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Chapter Text

A soft breeze met them as they stepped out of the portal - or in Four’s case, fell through the portal - and the warmth of the sun warmed their skin. 

Twilight, one of the first to get through, whistled as he looked at the land before them, “Not a H’rule I recogn’se.”

Hyrule looked up from where he was petting Four’s back and beamed, “It’s beautiful.”

And that it was, they stood upon a cliff, before them a small village nestled into the hills. A strange house with something akin to a telescope watching over the small houses. The sky was beautiful and clear, making it that they could see far and beyond. The mountains, covered with snow in the distance, and on the very top a strange tower. To the right a wide and endless sea.

“Where the fuck are we now?” Legend grumbled, but it was obvious that he too enjoyed the view.

“HE SAID FUCK!” Wind cheered, arms in the air as he ran around, excited at the free pass to say the profanity.

Warriors groaned, “Wind, no! Bad!”

Time simply sighed as Twilight snickered at the antic of the others, “They’r treatin Wind as a dog.”

“You would know what’s that like, huh,” Legend drawled, rolling his shoulders, “Wolfie.”

Wind hollered as Legend ran past him, Twilight hot on his heels.

“Kids,” Sky chuckled fondly next to Time, “How fun they are.”

Time smiled, “You’re practically still a kid yourself,” He ruffled the boy’s hair, “Got over the portal sickness ‘lready?”

The chosen hero nodded and turned towards the village, “Do you think we’re getting a new hero?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Sky frowned, “Fi hasn’t said anything,” When Time didn’t look alarmed, Sky elaborated, “She hasn’t spoken to me at all, not just about this era. That’s not like her.”

At that, a little frown did pop up on Time’s brows, “Tell me if something changes.”

Four stumbled next to them with the assistance of Hyrule, eyes trained on the village, “Do you reckon they have an inn?”

Hyrule pursed his lips, “Do’wer have the rupe’s f’r that?”

“Depends on how expensive the inn is,” Sky hummed.

That settled they began readying themselves to go down the hill. Luckily there was a small, seemingly unofficial, road 

“Yar yar yar, house ahoy!” Wind pointed at a house that stood alone, separated from the village with a bridge. 

“Quit your fake pirate speech, sailor,” Legend pushed the teen out of the way, peering at the house Wind had pointed out, “It looks abandoned.”

“Nah,” Twilight had his nose in the air, “Someon’s th’re.”

“Let’s go ask them about this era!” Wind excitedly jumped where he stood, “Maybe we get a new hero that’s younger than me!”

Time fondly chuckled, “Don’t count on a new hero, we’ve been travelling without getting a new hero for three months already.”

Wind pouted, “You never know!”

So they set out to the house that stood separated, that stood alone yet solidly, with its own pond right next to it. With its owner right next to it.

They slowed down as the person came into view, they had short but uneven blond hair. Their ears poked out, unusually large and droopy. Out of their blond hair small antlers poked out.

Time raised his arms, signalling the others to halt their approach. He looked back at them, nodded once and got closer to the person? Fae? Shape shifter?

“Hello, could you tell us the way to the closest inn?” Politely and carefully, Time approached them.

One of their ears twitched, a hum came from the being, “If the inn is what you seek, venture into Hateno village and you will stumble upon your destination,” Their (Her?) voice came over clear and gentle, somewhat foreboding though, “But, Hylia blessed travellers, is it truly the inn you seek?”

Time could hear the others tense, the clinging of armour and weapons softly clinking, his own hand also went almost unconsciously to his sword.

“Who are you?” Time asked.

The person laughed lightly, the sound chimed as if bounced upon crystals, “Sit with me, travellers, and you explain to me who you are?”

Not wanting to offend the stranger with obvious connections to the Goddess, he carefully skirted around the pond. Their face was fair and ethereal, tattooed tears under their closed eyes. He awkwardly sat down a small distance from them, behind him the others did the same.

They hummed, tilting their head so they could bathe in the sun even more, “Introduce yourselves,” They demanded, “Why are you here?”

“And why should we tell you?” Legend snapped from somewhere behind Time, he yelped shortly after that, “What?! I’m right!”

The person chuckled, “Perhaps you’re right,” They opened their eyes and trained it on them, “My name is Zelda, and you are?” A shudder went through the group as they finally realised they were talking to this era’s Zelda. A Zelda that was not completely Hylian. Her ears too big, her antlers existing at all and her eyes. Oh, her eyes. They were bright blue with specks of green in them. Her pupils instead of black, a deep green. The whites of her eyes shone a purple. They were unnatural. Beautiful and haunting.

“Huh, never thought I’d meet a Zelda stranger than Sun,” Legend remarked.

“Sun isn’t strange!” Sky immediately defended.

“She is literally a goddess incarnate,” Returned the vet.

The zelda of this era slanted her head, “So you’ve met previous reincarnations of me, have you?”

Sky and Legend stilled, looking at her with wide eyes.

Time, again, sighed, “Yes, your highness, we have,” She looked curious, “I’m Time,” Twilight took the cue and also introduced himself, the others quickly following.

“Well,” Zelda looked bemused, “One time is a coincidence, two times is suspicious, but eight is downright evidence.”

They looked at eachother with raised brows, unsure what she was on about, except Four, “So you’ve realised.”

“Indeed, I did. Hero of Four swords.”

“Well, that spares us time,” Legend murmured.

She smiled, “So, heroes of olds, what brings you to this time?”

Time squared up his shoulders, “Hylia has been gathering heroes to fight a new threat. Black blooded monsters. They have been spotted throughout our Hyrule’s, they are exceptionally strong and smart.”

Sky continued, “The attacks seem coordinated, some more than others, but it’s cause for concern.”

Zelda looked at them with her unsettling eyes that seemed to look right through them, sadness in them, “You’re here to take my knight away.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’m afraid so,” Time said softly.

She closed her eyes, her ears trembled with emotion, “Hylia is cruel,” Her voice was ridden with sadness and resentment.

Legend huffed, “You can say that again.”

“L’gend, enough,” Twilight shot him a look.

Wind, always the most excitable, moved closer to the princess, “Are you Hylian? You don’t look Hylian,” He smiled.

“Wind!” Hyrule exclaimed.

Zelda chuckled and looked down at the boy with the utmost patience, “I am Hylian, yes. My physical… alterations are direct consequences of our second quest.”

The mention of quests sombered them even more, not to mention the second part.

“Can I ask where Link is?” Time asked carefully.

She shifted her gaze from Wind to Time, “My knight is a free spirit, I can not possibly know where he is at all times. He could be in the village store or Gerudo town for all I know.”

“So it’s a manhunt, just as it was for Legend,” Warriors said displeased.

“Oh fuck you, I already went on six quests! I didn’t want to join you, misfits!”

Zelda frowned, “So, you get no choice?”

Hyrule shook his head, “Th’r port’ls suck us r’ght in, ‘ven if we’r n’t re’dy.”

She looked at them all, silent and sad, “Link hasn’t got any rest yet and still, Hylia is already pulling him away again,” Her voice trembled, “You are welcome to stay at my house, I will go inquire to the whereabouts of my champion,” Zelda did not wait for a response, she gracefully got up and waltzed off.

The chain sat silently, staring at her back that got smaller as she walked over the bridge.

“Do you think Link will also have cool eyes?” Wind asked, breaking the silence.

“Wind! Read the room!”

“What?! It’s a valid question!”

Legend huffed, “I don’t know about his eyes but I do know that he’s gonna be fucked up.”

Twilight threw his arms in the air, “Whut’s up w’th y’all ‘nd not readin the room!”

Four, who had recovered somewhat by now, hummed, “Leg is right though, the new Link’s gonna have baggage.”

“Don’t we all?” Sky asked.

“Ya, but it’s something in the magic of this place,” Four looked around, “It’s…” They didn’t continue, not having the right words.

Twilight pulled his fur coat closer to him, “Weary,” He articulated the word carefully.

“Tired,” Hyrule added.

“Fucked up,” Legend concluded.

Wind pouted, “I bet he’ll be lots of fun!”

Time sighed, “Let’s go inside and wait for Zelda to return.”

--

The inside of the house was clean and comfortable, clearly lived in and loved. Pictures decorated the walls, decorations sat on shelves and tables. There were still plates from the breakfast the princess had enjoyed in the morning. To the right there were stairs to the loft with the only bed in the house.

“Why does the princess live in some small house in some small village,” Legend mused, “Doesn’t seem very royal.”

“Maybe it’s her vacation home?” Wind suggested.

Hyrule shook his head, “H’r magic’s rooted in the ‘ouse too much.”

Before conversation could continue the door opened to reveal Zelda who had returned.

“Link is in the domain, helping prince Sidon with the Lizalfos problem,” She cut right into the chase, “He will return as soon as possible.”

“We shall go help,” Time was already taking his back when Zelda shook her head, “Your highness, we’re seasoned fighters. We can help.”

Zelda frowned, “I am not questioning your abilities, hero of time. I am, however, questioning your understanding of distance.”

“Mine Hyrule is the b’ggest of us’ll, ‘nd it’s only ‘bout day travel,” Twilight explained, “We c’n make that.”

Twilight’s words visibly confused the princess, “A day?” She asked incredulously before she went to a closet, pulling out a map, “This,” She rolled it out on the table, and pointed out a symbol of a house, “Is Hateno and this,” Another house, “Is the Domain.”

Warriors looked puzzled, “No offence, your highness, but that does not seem all too far.”

“By Din’s name,” Zelda looked at them as if they spit in her tea, “If you were my Link, I would agree. But you are not. With the size of your group you would be mostly stuck to the road and without horses. So that would be about,” She hummed as she thought, “Four weeks.”

“FOUR?!” 

“Yes, look,” She showed what roads they would have to take, how far they took them away from the Domain before they could go the right way.

Wind blinked curiously, “Why can’t we go like this,” He put a finger on Hateno and pulled it directly to the Domain, “That would be way shorter, right?”

“Oh sweet summer child,” Zelda murmured, “Yes, it would,” Wind already started grinning, “But no one does it except the champion. It’s dangerous, not only due to monsters, but the temperatures, cliffs, mountains and rivers are all highly dangerous. And even if you could, it would still take you about a week to get there.”

“What the fuck is wrong with this Hyrule?” Legend looked pale at the prospect of walking for weeks on end.

Zelda looked fiercely at him, “You will not insult my lands. Especially if you’re standing in my kitchen,” Her ears flared and her eyes brightened.

Legend took a step backwards, “Alright alright, I’m sorry.”

She did not look wholly satisfied but let it go, “As I was saying, you would not get there in time. In fact, by the time you got there my knight would have been able to travel all of the land and get back to the Domain before you. So stay and wait.”

Hyrule shyly chuckled, “W’r not good ‘t that, waitin ‘nd all.”

“You’re of the same spirit as Link,” Zelda stated simply before she abruptly turned to the kitchen, starting dinner without a word.

Twilight looked at Time with raised eyebrows but Time only shrugged in response, “Ah, pr’ncess,” Twilight began very eloquently, “C’n ya t’ll us ‘bout yar Link?”

Her ears drooped again but she didn’t turn to them, “I would like to ask you a question first, how long have you had before you got pulled into this quest?”

Time looked at everyone first for permission before he answered, “I’ve had the longest, about ten years. Wind has had the shortest time, about a year and six months.

The breath the princess took shuddered, her frame seemed to waver and blur, “Oh,” She leaned on the counter, her hands pressed against her eyes, “My-” She shuddered, “My knight, my Link has not gotten that grace.”

Wind sounded sad, “He got even less than me?”

Zelda squared her shoulders and turned to them, the blue of her eyes a storm, “It’s been two weeks.”

--

Later, when food was ready and they were sitting around the small table, when everyone was still processing what the princess had said, Zelda sighed and left the house without a word. She left behind silence and an oppressive weight in the air.

Two weeks. 

When Time had found out about Wind and his journey, he had felt incredibly sad. The boy had been so young when his quest started, he was still so unbelievably young. Hylia had given the boy just the time for him to settle down again, join the normal life of his family and village again. And then she ripped him away from it all again.

But this Link, he hadn’t gotten that. The two weeks weren’t even down time, considering the fact that this Link wasn’t at home but at the Domain, fighting Lizalfos. He had gotten no time to recover, to settle down, none at all.

“What the fuck.”

Time sighed, “Laguage,” He was glad that Wind was too preoccupied with his thoughts to repeat the foul words.

“Oh I’m sorry,” Legend rolled his eyes, “C'est quoi ce bordel.”

Warriors put down his cup with a clang, “What even is that language?!”

The veteran smirked, “Oh? Does the fancy nobel not know the languages of Hyrule’s neighbours?”

“My nei’bours?” ‘Rule looked confused.

“The country Hyrule, not you fae boy.”

“About fae,” Four piped up, “What could’ve happened that left princess Zelda with such alterations?” 

Hyrule pursed his lips, “Sh’s not fae ‘lright.”

Legend nodded, “She has the typical Hylia ass divine magic.”

“Please never say that again,” Sky sighed.

“What? Hylia ass?”

Wind had started paying attention sometimes and cheered, “HYLIA ASS!”

Sky ignored the teen and glared at Legend, “I will tackle you.”

“Come at me, sleepy,” Legend grinned as he stood up, rolling up his sleeves.

Twilight, who sat next to the veteran, also stood up, “No fightin in the ‘ome of the pr’ncess,” He literally plucked Legend of the ground and held him up.

“Put me down!”

“No.”

“Why is no one here normal?” Four sighed.

Legend struggled in Twilight’s grip, “Bitch, we have the same goddamn spirit.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

Everyone stilled, Legend still in Twilight’s arms. Hyrule was snooping through the bookshelf. Wind was in the middle of egging Legend’s anger as Four just seemed uninterested. Sky had been looking amused at the whole debacle and Time was resigned to the chaos. But all of that had stopped, they turned their gazes towards the door from where they sat or stood.

In the doorway stood a man, sword out, other hand hovering over a slab that hung from his hip. A cape obstructed his face but they knew he was watching them intently.

“Oh shit,” Wind whispered.

“WIND! Language!”

The strangers' stand got even more rigid.

“Uh,” Twilight dropped Legend, “Ya wouldn’t be Link by ‘ny chance?”

The maybe-Link-maybe-not didn’t answer, instead he moved his hand over the slab. A bundle of perfectly ripe bananas materialised out of blue string. He threw it in the air once, catched it and threw it in the middle of the room, landing squarely on Legend.

Legend scrambled of the floor, throwing the banana’s off him, “What the fuck are you doing?!”

Time sighed and placatingly held up his hand, “Princess Zelda invited us in, we’re no threat.”

The hooded man looked him over carefully, and with another movement his sword disappeared in the same blue strings. His hands free he signed, “Where is Zelda?”

“She left about thirty minutes ago.”

With that information the man nodded, took the slab out of its holder and disappeared in blue strings.

“What the fuck.”

“Legend!”

Sky frowned, “That definitely was Link. Fi recognized him.”

Time sighed, he would go grey early with all these gremlins, “Of course he was.”

“He and this Zelda are rude,” Legend grumbled.

Warriors gasped, “Do no insult royalty! And certainly do not use her name without her respective title, not without her consent!”

“Oh, fuck you.”

Chapter Text

An hour had passed since Link had barged in and left as quickly as his entrance. Time had ordered them to stay in the house, there was no use searching for the hero and princess as they probably wouldn’t find them. Instead Wind took out his playing cards and suggested some game that no one except him knew. And then he proceeded to change the rules every other round, making it so that no one except him could win. Twilight had to restrain Legend once again because of that.

Four put down a card and hummed, “We’re not seeing those two again, are we?”

Sky frowned, “Did we scare them away?”

“Scare them away?” Legend sneered, “We did fuck all.”

“FUCK!”

Warriors shushed Wind and sighed, “The princess did not seem surprised at our arrival at all. So I do not know why she would flee from us.”

“We turn’d ‘er sad,” Hyrule said hushed, “She’d been so serene.”

Time hummed, “Do not blame yourself, we did not choose to start this journey or who would join in on it.”

“Still sucks ass.”

“ASS!”

“Hylia, do we really need to make a swear jar?” Warriors grumbled, “Are we that low?”

Legend cackled, “Hylia owes me swearing and money at this point!”

Twilight pinched the bridge of his nose, “C’n we’r focus ther fact th’t Link ‘nd pr’ncess Zelda arn’t back yet?”

Four sighed in relief, “Yes, thank you.”

Time nodded, “Sky, can you ask Fi about what she knows about this era?”

Sky hummed and took out the master sword, “Hello, Fi,” He greeted her with a soft smile, “Could you tell us about this era?”

Anticipation filled the air as they awaited the soft chiming and glow of the sword. Not one of them had the same relationship with the sword. 

Time felt dread but warmth thinking of the sword. 

Legend would rather not think about her at all. 

Four was curious and doubtful. 

Wind seemed to have a rather neutral impression of the sword. 

Twilight was rather fond of her. 

Warriors had a cold disposition towards the blade. 

Hyrule wielded it with the utmost of care.

And Sky? She was his precious friend. She was the blade he made. The one who helped him defeat the Demise. The one who stood with him as he got his own soul, the soul of his most loved one and the entirety of Hyrule cursed. When the sword was an ally to most of them. She was Fi to him. Not a weapon, not a curse, or a burden. A friend.

So it was no surprise that Fi answered Sky most, that he could talk to her in full sentences and not just soft chiming. He was connected to her in ways that no one else was. Same spirit or not.

And yet, as they waited, no chiming appeared. The blade remained the way it was, no soft glow to be seen, her softness kept them waiting.

“What? Did it become shy?”

Sky glared at Legend, “Don’t mock her,” When the boy only shrugged his shoulders, Sky turned to Time, “I heard her very briefly when Link got here, so I thought her silence spell was over.”

Time considered the sword, he did not know if it was the lighting of the house, but she looked older than before. More weary. More chips in her blade and her leather worn.

“We don’t know where we are in the timeline, so it can simply be that she’s adjusting,” Time suggested carefully.

Wind looked up from his cards, “Didn’t ya say that she takes the memories of the sword of this era, or somethin like that? Maybe she’s just takin her time or shit like that.”

“Language!”

“Hylian!” Wind grinned.

Twilight rolled his eyes but smiled, “Ther twerp’s probably r’ght. Give ‘er time.”

Sky smiled softly, “I hope you’re right.”

And so they went back to their activities. Cards for most of them. Sky with his woodcarving. Time writing a letter to his beloved Malon. And Legend taking a nap.

It was peaceful, as most of their down time was. They had clashing personalities at times, wholly different backgrounds and upbringings. But they still were the same spirit, the same soul. They had the same basics engraved in their very beings, in what they stood for. Heroes of courage. Or how their loved ones would describe them: Heroes of self sacrifice and stupidity.

So polar opposites most of them were, they were family, the same wave in rough ocean.

It hadn’t started like that of course, even if they had all felt the connection between them, they still had been strangers. Their bonds were grown out of hard work and sometimes, blood. With every new hero joining them, there were new group dynamics, old ones destroyed. Tensions rose and disappeared. 

And now, after they had been on this journey for almost nine months, they had been closer than ever. The dynamics stood strong and solid.

And now, after months without a new hero, that would change.

Time almost felt guilty for it, but he didn’t particularly look forward to that tension. He would of course welcome the new hero with open arms, as he had done with all of the others. But he couldn’t help but worry as he looked over his family. They were so peaceful, content. 

Perhaps the new Link would not create a ripple in their calm pond. Perhaps he would join them and fit in his space right away.

But Time thought that was unlikely to happen.

Legend suddenly woke from his nap, the same moment Hyrule’s attention snapped towards the front door, “Hylia damn, her magic’s oppressive,” He grumbled as he rolled his shoulders. 

Before anyone could tell Legend to not use hylia’s name in vain, the door finally opened. There, Zelda stood in all her glory. Her very weird, not Hylian, glory. Just behind her, peeking over her shoulders, was the same hooded person from before. Link.

“Thank you, hero of Legends,” Zelda smiled rather coldly, “I sacrificed plenty for this magic.”

Time’s eyes widened, did she hear Legend’s remark from outside? The veteran could be loud, but he had been rather quiet with his complaints this time.

“Figures,” Legend didn’t seem to be taken aback with the direct call out, “Hylia doesn’t give freebies, after all.”

The princess considered his words, “Not even our very own lives were freely given to us,” She remarked. The figure after her, Link, scoffed every so silently but didn’t add to the conversation.

“So,” Twilight awkwardly cleared his throat, “Yer Link?”

Zelda smiled and looked behind her, “You’re off duty, Link. You don’t have to guard me.”

Link signed something to her, but it was covered in the dark of his cloak, so no one else except her could see.

“You’re paranoid,” Zelda huffed, “You must feel Hylia’s blessing on them.”

That obviously didn’t satisfy Link’s worries, but he didn’t protest. Instead he crossed his arms and went to stand next to her. His face was still blocked with the cape, but now he was standing in the light. And it did clarify at least some things.

He was short. Not the smallest of the Chain, but shorter than the princess.

His hair poked out at his shoulders from his cape, so his hair was at least shoulder length.

He wore a bright blue tunic under his cape. One of the sleeves had been cut shorter, making place for an arm that was not off flesh, but metal. The other arm, even less visible, was covered in scars.

Time had to pull his focus off the new Link’s arms. He felt sick. Yes, they all had fought their battles, they all had scars from them. And they all had permanent physical changes from their wounds. He himself had lost an eye, and he had practised countless hours to compensate for the lack of depth in his vision.

But the loss of an arm? That, no one of them had suffered. No one but this Link.

“Hey! I’m Wind!” The teen excitedly bounced over to the new hero, “We all go with our hero titles! So what’s yours? Or do you want to pick your own  nickname? Sky did that! His hero title is the Chosen hero but that would have been such an awkward nickname, so he chose Sky! You can do the same! Something to do with your journey or something you like or where you were born or-”

Twilight slapped his hand over Wind’s mouth, muffling the boy’s sea of words, “Sorry f’r ‘im,” He grinned at Link, “Mine’s name’s Tw’light.”

The hooded Link didn’t greet them back, he only seemed to bury himself into his cape even further.  Twilight’s smile dimmed a bit at the apparent distrust and discomfort. 

“Link,” Zelda placed an unnaturally slender hand with claw-like nails on his shoulders, “It is terribly rude to ignore our guests.”

The man huffed again but his shoulders slagged, “Fine,” He said roughly, “ I’m Link,” He signed.

“No shit,” Legend drawled from where he was sitting, “Ya got anything else to say?”

Warriors sighed heavily, “Please ignore Legend, he is an arse,” He went forward to the new Link and held out a hand, “I’m Warriors.”

Link slowly shook the hand of Warrior, portraying his metal arm in full glory. It was made of golden plates placed in meticulous patterns, glowing blue peeking from underneath. Rings decorated every finger, one glowed ever so slightly. It went up to at least his elbow where it disappeared under his tunic.

“Her highness Zelda called you her knight,” Warriors smiled, “That makes us the only two that were in the army.”

Zelda’s eyes widened, “Oh no-”

Link shot her a look before she could finish, and signed, “My soldier days are long passed.”

The captain let out a surprised bark, “Long passed, you’re what? Eighteen?”

“My age is not a concern to you.”

“Well,” Legend made a clicking sound with his tongue, he looked bored, “This is going great .”

Link sighed, “So, a quest? To do what?”

Time sighed in relief for the opening, “We have been fighting black blooded monsters. The hordes exist out of monsters of all our times. Which suggests that there is someone behind the attacks that can manipulate time and space.”

“What do you mean by black blooded?”

“Their blood bleeds black,” Sky answered somberly, “They are exceptionally strong and smart.”

“So, they’re infected.” Link signs read as if he thought it was obvious. As if it was nothing new.

Time had picked up on it and frowned, “Have you come in contact with them?”

Zelda answered before Link, “You are describing what our monsters are like when malice riddens our lands. When evil is controlling the very earth.”

“Except the monsters of other times, of course,” Link added.

She chuckled, “Yes, except those.”

Hyrule looked pale, “M’lice? Like s’ckness?”

“You could call it that,” Zelda hummed.

Sky frowned down at his lap where Fi lay, “I had malice in my world, but that disappeared when I defeated Demise.”

A small but intense intake of breath made Sky look up, the new Link had his slab close to his face, the light illuminating his eyes, bright blue. They were wide as he searched for something on his weird device. When he didn’t  find what he was seeking he looked towards Zelda, then Sky. 

Her eyes followed Link’s gaze and fell upon the weapon in Sky’s lap, “Oh my, she seems so young.”

Realisation dawned upon Sky, “When we get to a new era, the current Master Sword sort of fuses with mine.”

Zelda looked towards Link, who nodded before signing, “She isn’t in the Purah Pad anymore.”

“How odd,” Zelda hummed, “Do you reckon that is to prevent potential space and time cracks? Although, nine versions of the same soul are currently present in this very room. So I do not understand why multiple Master Swords would break the time barrier.”

Sky looked at the princess with wide eyes, “I don’t know why it happens, Fi never explained.”

“Fi?” Links rough voice questioned.

“The spirit of the sword,” Sky explained;

Zelda smiled fondly, “So that’s her name.”

“Yeah yeah,” Legend rolled his eyes, “Fancy sword is a fancy special sword. Let’s talk real shit, what’s yar hero title,” He said to Link, “Or do we call you Rude Link?”

“I don’t have a hero title,” Link signed, ignoring the provocation.

Zelda frowned, “You have multiple titles, Link.”

“None I claim.”

“Fi can tell you,” Sky interrupted them, “Just touch the blade.”

Link tensed up, but quickly went to Sky, his hand shot out to her. And before Sky had even processed it all, Link was back at the other side of the room. But it had been enough, under his touch Fi glowed softly blue. She transformed briefly to her form of this era before going back to his Master Swords. And although it had been just a moment, just a second, Sky knew he would never forget how she would age. How she would tire.

But he pushed it out of his mind as Fi chimed. Her voice older than just a few days ago, more weary. Filled with melancholy and regret. “Link, born in Hateno. Personal knight of princess Zelda. Champion of the Hylians,” She told Sky, “The hero that I failed.”

She turned quiet, but it was not because she was finished. Sky had never heard something like this, Fi had never talked about any of the heroes like this. She had been fond of every single one, even Four, who she never met before, was dear to her. But this Link, although still close to her heart, pained her. 

She chimed again, “I have weathered, I have been corroded. Even millions of years being bathed in sacred light was not enough to bring me back to full strength,” Fi sounded brittle, small, “I have failed him not once, not twice. But every time he asked for my help, I failed, simply because I was too weak to remain. And I want nothing more than apologise to him.”

Sky held his breath, overwhelmed by the sadness she extruded. He wanted nothing more than to embrace the spirit within the sword. Instead he could only keep calm and try to come over as reassuring and stable. He did not want her to worry about two heroes. To feel like she failed two of her masters.

“Fi, whatever happened, you did your best. You did all you could,” He thought.

She was silent for a while, considering his words but when she spoke, it was clear and without any doubt, “My all, was not enough,” There was no space for argumentation in her tone, “He is who did all he could do. He is the Hero of the Wilds.” 

And with that, she faded away.

Sky took a shaky breath, tears threatened to fill his eyes. Fi was dear to him, as close to his heart as Sun was. To hear her so broken, was devastating. To know that one of his soul brothers went through something that could shake even Fi, was more than he could handle.

“Sky?” Time gently tapped his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

He looked up, not at Time, but at Link, at Wild and tried not to run over to him to hug him to death, “Fi is fond of you,” He smiled weakly.

Link’s hands twitched, he started forming words but stopped every time. Zelda went up to him, and laid a comforting hand low on his back, smiling softly at him, “You're allowed to be frustrated.”

“But-” His voice croaked.

“You have been put through so much,” She shushed him, “And all of it is because you were the one who pulled the Sword that Seals the Darkness. You are allowed to be distraught about it.”

Legend scoffed, “That sword and Hylia can suck my ass,” Link looked towards Legend and honest to Hylia, snorted, “I’m damn right! They both owe me so much money.”

“I have enough money,” Link signed shakily, “But she owes me cat naps.”

“That’s the spirit!” Legend grinned.

Sky hated to interrupt the somewhat pleasant interaction, “Your hero title,” Link got tense again and looked at him, “Is the Hero of the Wilds.”

Wind clapped excitedly, “Wild it is!”

Twilight smiled, “W’lcome to the Chain!”

“What a cruel name,” Zelda whispered, putting a damp on the celebratory air, “Link, you don’t have to go with that name.”

Link simply shook his head at her, “Wild it is,” He signed at the heroes, “But, excuse me, I’m retiring for the night,” He took his slab that he had called his Purah Pad and disappeared in the same blue strings from before.

Wind yelled in surprise, “But! We gotta stick together! Where did he go?!”

Zelda closed her eyes and breathed slowly and deeply, “He went to his home, he’ll be back in the morning.”

“Is Wild ‘lright?” Hyrule asked carefully.

Zelda looked down at him with her beautiful, magical but distraught eyes, “Link has given everything for me, this kingdom, Hylia . And she rewards him with a name that mocks his sacrifices,” She said coldly.

“I'm terribly sorry to pry,” Time carefully approached Zelda, “But can you tell us what you mean by that?”

“No. I will not, I will not tell his story,” She held her head high, her posture stank of royalty, “Now. I have arranged rooms for you at the inn, it would be lovely if you would leave my house so I can retire for the night.”

Stumped by the coldness, Time could only agree and wrestle his family out of the house in record time. Stumbling their way to the inn through the twilight hours of the evening.

“We didn’t even see his face,” Wind whined loudly, genuinely upset at the outcome of the evening.

Sky frowned, “Something here went very wrong.”

“Duh, if it didn’t, there wouldn’t be a Link in this era,” Legend sassed.

But the Chosen Hero didn’t take the obvious bait, “I have never heard Fi apologise before.”

They all stopped walking and faced Sky, his eyes were glassy and his lips trembling.

“What?” Legend asked eloquently.

“She has so much remorse, so much regret for what she couldn’t do in this era,” His voice cracked, “She loves Wild so much, she didn’t say it, but the way she talked about him, I-” 

Twilight took the boy into his arms and held him tightly, “Yer okay Sky, Fi’s okay,” He whispered into his hair, “Wha’ever ‘happend, everyone’s alive, nobody has died.”

Chapter Text

The sun had barely broken the skyline when the innkeeper came to wake them, “Ah good morning,” He greeted Time who had been already awake, “Link is waiting for you,”

“Thank you,” Time nodded at the man.

“Of course, breakfast will be served soon,” He left the room.

Time sighed, it was early. Around 5 am. Some of the Chain will not be happy to be woken up at this hour. But alas, Link, no, Wild had shown up just as Zelda had said. He wasn’t sure what else he had expected, but some part of him had been preparing to go down on a manhunt after Wild had left like that.

Wild.

The name didn’t mean much to Time, not at this moment. This Hyrule was big and from what he had seen from the hill they had portaled too there was plenty of nature. But it was not enough to explain the name. Neither did Wild’s personality seem connected with the name itself.

And yet, Zelda’s reaction told of an unfortunate origin for the title. 

“Pup,” He nudged Twilight, “Wake up.”

Wolf boy blinked against the light and groaned, “Wh’t’s ther t’me?”

“Too early,” Legend, the light sleeper he was, groaned from the ground he had been pushed on by Hyrule, “Now, shut up.”

Time fondly shook his head, “Wake the others, breakfast has been prepared for us.”

“Now you’re talking my language,” The veteran sat upright and stretched, his bones popped, “I’m waking up Sky in my way, though.”

Twilight glared at him, “No broken bones.”

“That was one time!” 

Suddenly a pillow soared through the air, hitting Legend square in the face, “Shut up,” Wind grumbled, “‘M sleepwing,” He attempted to bury his head under the sheets but was rudely interrupted by Legend tackling him, pillow right in hand.

“Oh no, you won’t!”

Time looked from the debacle to Twilight and shrugged, “Let’s leave them to it,” His descendant nodded with a grin and motioned he would wake Hyrule, Warriors and Four, leaving Sky to Time. The one most difficult to wake, of course. 

He went up to the chosen hero and paused. The night before Sky had shut down not long after he told them about Fi apologising. Whatever they had asked him, what they said to him, Sky did not respond. When it was time for sleep, Sky didn’t ask for cuddles as he usually would do. He instead hugged Fi tight as he fell in slumber.

And now, the man was still clutching to the sword, desperate. 

“Sky,” Time gently nudged him, “Wake up,” It hadn’t much effect, which did not surprise Time at all, “There’s food, that’s not made by one of us,” Now that, that did cause a reaction.

“Food?” Sky mumbled into his pillow.

“Yes and I would suggest getting up before you wind up in Wind’s and Legends… shenanigans,” Time chuckled as Legend screeched just at the right moment.

Sky frowned but opened his eyes just a tiny bit, “I see,” He said after he saw Wind jump up two feet into the air and land on Legend’s shoulders, “I’m up, I’m up.”

Time smiled at him and turned to see how Twilight was doing and was pleased to see that everyone was up, “Let’s go eat.”

They all quickly left the room, leaving the two fighting soul brothers to it. The innkeeper saw them and directed them to the deck outside, “The best breakfast is spent in fresh air,” He explained, “I’ll bring it right away.”

“Eccentric guy,” Four murmured as they opened the door, shivering as the morning air met them, “And very wrong too.”

Twilight  laughed heartily, “Yer just w’rm blooded.”

“And what about it,” They stuck out their tongue.

Someone cleared their throat. At the table, not yet filled with food, sat Wild. Hood still up, but his posture was somewhat more relaxed, “Goodmorning,” He signed.

Hyrule grinned, “G’morning,” He went to sit next to their new brother, “How’d ye sleep?”

Wild awkwardly wiggled in his chair, “Fine. You?”

Time silently sighed in relief, Wild seemed to have warmed up just a bit to them. Or, at least, he didn’t seem to entirely distrust them.

“Well,” The fae answered, “Been awhile we’ve st’yed at a inn.”

Four nodded, “Never knew I would miss beds so much in my life.”

Wild nodded, in understanding or to just give some reaction, Time didn’t know but he appreciated the gesture anyway. They took Hyrule’s initiative and sat down,

“Where are… the other two?” Wild asked.

“Legend and Wind are busy throwing pillows,” Warriors chuckled, “They’ll come outside when they finish.”

Wild nodded just as the innkeeper came out with their food. He had a plateau with bread, spreads and some hard boiled eggs, “If ya need somethin else, food or drink, just yell,” He said as he sat it down, ignoring their thank you’s he faced Wild, “The stable has send over the horses you asked for.”

“Thank you,” Wild answered softly, a different tone in his voice than when he talked to them, “How is Prima?”

The man grinned, “She’s doing well, we’ve been busy preparing for the baby! Come bless them with Zelda when they’re born, will ya?”

Wild chuckled, “It’s Zelda who does the blessings, I’m not too good at that. You know that, Worten.”

“Yeah yeah,” He rolled his eyes, “I’ll let y'all eat, don’t be a stranger Link,” He waved before he disappeared back inside.

“So,” Twilight had a smirk on his face, “You bless babes a lot?”

The new hero huffed, “Sometimes. People are getting more religious lately.”

“Oh, were they not before?” Time asked, “I think that Hyrule’s the only one with a population that isn’t too big on Hylia.”

“No use prayin to Gods tha’ won’t save ya,” Hyrule murmured.

Wild faced the boy next to him, head slanted. He did not say anything for a long while. It was getting somewhat uncomfortable, Hyrule started fidgeting with the bread he had been eating. Time was starting to consider a different conversation, something less heavy. Less confrontational. 

Religion is a touchy topic in their group. Just as they had different relationships with the master sword, they had other connections and feelings about faith. About Hylia. Most of them were not big fans of the Goddesses, or at least, not what She expected of them. Legend outright hated her while Sky loved her genuinely. What did Wild think of her? Time, again, did not know what to expect. He had seen too little of the world, of Wild himself, too take guesses.

But before he could change the conversation, Wild breathed out loudly before raising his arms and taking down his hood. Exposing his face to them for the first time. Time would be ashamed to admit it, but he stared at the young man’s face. Or more specifically, at the scarring that covered his face. It started from his left ear, the top of it gone, travelling down to under his tunic, crossing his eye. It was a wonder that he still had his eye, Time would know. Burn scars, his mind supplied. They were pink and wrinkly, pulling on his skin. 

“The people felt like Hylia had abandoned them for a hundred years,” Link signed, “That changed just a few years ago.”

Hyrule had this look on his face that Time did not fully understand, understanding? Relief? Hyrule’s lands could be described as sick, its people were distrustful and mostly faithless. He did his best to restore the kingdom he loved so much, but it had proven to be difficult. Most of them had not experienced anything of the likes. Times had been hard and people did die but those were moments of peril, small in comparison to life. The traveller’s world was not like that, the fight against the sickness was long and it tired the people. It outlived their hope, their faith in the Goddesses.

Sky looked at the both of them with sadness that came up every time they talked about the faith that was brought upon them all. As he was the first one, he was the only one who truly decided for himself to start his quest, to fight for his lands. His faith too was entirely chosen, and therefore strong. Knowing that it was not the same for the others was rather difficult for the man. Knowing that times had gotten so hard, so hopeless, that even faith was lost to them seemed almost impossible to him.

“Faith’s fickle,” Hyrule nodded, “Hard to m’ntain.”

“We talking about the absent mother?” Legend finally joined them, pulling Wind after him by the scuff, “Without me? I’m hurt.”

Wild took taken aback, he was actually quite expressive Time realised. His brows were furrowed, his mouth a little pout. It was actually quite cute, it definitely made his appearance more youthful.

Wind beamed from the ground, “Wild! You’re here! Your scars are so cool. How did you get them? Did it hurt? Oh, what am I saying, of course it hurt! But hey, they look so badass, you look like you fought God and won! How long did it take to heal?! How did ya lose yer arm? Who made the metal arm? Does it still hurt? What’s your favourite colour? Was your hero tunic also green? When did your journey start? How old were you? How old are you- Mumhpumpump-” His ramblings were finally cut off by, yet again, Twilight.

“Don’t listin to ‘im, he’s a curious lad,” The farm hand smiled apologetically;

Legend let himself fall on a chair, taking food immediately, “So, the hood’s off, huh.”

Wild rolled his eyes but ignored him again, “So, how do you work?”

“Work?” Warriors asked, “As in group strategy?”

“Sure. Strategy, group dynamics, rules,” Wild crossed his arms after he finished signing, raising an eyebrow.

Legend grinned, “The newbie has some spice, huh,” He got an unimpressed stare back, “Well, Wild Spice, it’s practically always the same. The owner of the era we’re in leads, explains what monsters there are, where, how we beat them, logical stuff, ya know.”

Time sighed, “Yes, other than that, we have multiple watches per night. Cooking is also in rotation.”

“I wouldn’t expect fine cuisine, if I were you,” Warriors added. Wild’s nose scrunched with worry but he didn’t comment.

Wind wiggled his way out of Twilight’s arms and made a barfing noise, “These people can’t cook for shit!”

Wariors frowned, “You also can’t cook.”

“I’m a kid ,” He stuck out his tongue, “What’s your excuse?”

Four sighed and ignored them, “Most of the time we go to the castle of the era, ask our Zelda’s where the monsters are and then go kill them. And that’s basically all of it.”

“Huh,” Wild murmured, “What about the origin of it all? How are you investigating that?”

“We’re not,” Legend huffed annoyed, “We don’t get the time or the opportunity and Hylia ,” He looked up to the sky with a glare, “Is not helping.”

Their Sky sighed, “The Gods cannot interfere with mortal problems.”

“She’s interfering in my life alright, though,” Legend snapped.

Twilight put himself between the two, “Anywa’, ya got ‘orses for us?”

“There have been reports of unusually large monster hordes around the castle. It’s interfering with the rebuilding efforts, so I’ve been asked to help,” He looked annoyed, “And I guess if I am asked to help, you’re coming along.”

“Don’t be too happy about it,” Legend drawled lazily.

Time sighed, “Legend, behave. And Wild,” He tried to smile reassuringly at the boy, “You don’t have to fight alone. We are glad to help.”

Wind threw a fist in the air, “Let’s fuck up some monsters!”

“LANGUAGE!”

“And I appreciate it,” Wild smiled forcibly, it seemed terribly wrong on his face, “But you are quite literally slowing me down. I could be there in one tap but it will take us about a week of non-stop travel.”

Ah great, Time thought. Another Link of course meant another person that was stubborn as a mule.

“Travel is slow with such a large group, yes,” Time acknowledged patiently, “But for now, horses will fasten our pace significantly.”

Wild’s eyes widened slightly, “You don’t have horses in your times?”

Twilight made a so-so movement, “I got mine Epona, but ‘orses ‘re expensive.”

Warriors nodded, “Even in the army there are limitate horses.”

“You can just catch them? Why would you buy them?” Wild was looking at them as if they just told him that Zelda went back in time and ate a spicy rock which turned her into an immortal dragon. Which they didn’t but he still looked very confused and with a lot of disbelief.

“The fuck are you talking about?” Legend actually laughed at the ridiculously, “Wouldn’t ya have like at least five horses, then?”

Wild nodded, “Yes. The limit at the stables is ten. So I have ten,” He said as if it was normal to have ten horses and that the only thing that stopped him from getting more was the stable

“Insane, this era is insane, you’re insane, what the fuck !” 

Wind pouted confused, “I don’t get all the fuss about horses, boats are better.”

“Boats are nice,” Wild agreed, “Fast with enough fans.”

“You mean the sails?”

“Sails are too slow. Fans work better, have more control too.”

Wind slowly shook his head, “I have no clue what you’re on about.”

“Right,” Wild nodded, frustration painting his face, “Let’s get moving, I’ll wait with the horses at the gate.”

He left them behind without any further discussion, or even directions where the gate was. Which annoyed them because they didn’t know where it was and directions would have been nice! 

“Still rude,” Legend muttered.

“Pot calling kettle.”

“FUCK YOU!”

“As I was saying, kettle.”

--

They were just passing the dye shop when Zelda crossed their path, her eyes brilliant in colour but her mood in terrible condition.

She scowled ever so slightly, “My knight is precious to me and to many others,” Zelda held her head high, her gaze cold, “If you hurt him, you will feel the wrath of our kingdom.”

“We'll try our best to be the best companions,” Time respectfully bowed.

Yet she didn't seem satisfied, “Best companions , huh,” She scoffed, “You have no idea.”

Twilight frowned, “Wild's in safe ‘ands,” He tried to reassure her.

Zelda carefully observed him, “Your magic's familiar,” Her eyes fell on the mark that painted his forehead and she visibly calmed down, eyes softer, “I entrust my knight to you , Hero of Twilight.”

The hero in question frowned even more, now confused at the sudden switch up.

“Entrust him your secret and perhaps he will do the same,” She smiled softly at him, “And you,” She turned to the others, gaze stern again, “I suggest you do the same,” And with that she turned around and left.

“She so knows yer a dog,” Legend nodded impressed.

Four agreed with a hum, “She recognized the mark.”

“She's cool, weird and missing some screws, but cool,” Wind grinned.

Twilight just looked pale, “She trustin I with Wild,” His eyes were wide, “Why?”

Time had compassion for his successor. When he had realised that he had thought Twilight in his future, even if he was just a spirit, he had felt lost. His pup already knew him, had learned to know a very strict version of him that would only accept the best.

He had to choose, follow the example of his future self. Be strict and expect perfection or … not. There had been no other specific option. Time could try to be his future self now or he could let it be just the future.

He had chosen to remain as he was.

But Twilight did not even have his future self to support him. He had been thrown in a roll of mentorship without any warning, without any rock to hold on.

“Yer a wolf, ‘is name's Wild,” Hyurle considered, “It fits.”

“Ha. Ha.”

Sky smiled, “Princess Zelda has trust in you, that must be for a reason.”

“I agree,” Time ruffled the pup's hair, “You will do wonderfully.”

Twilight pouted, “if ya think so.”

--

“Slow,” Wild signed at them when they arrived at the gate.

Legend was ready to throw hands right there and then, but he was stopped by Warriors.

Twilight, having psyched himself up, went up to Wild with a big smile, “So, horses.”

“Horses,” Wild agreed, confused.

The farm hand nodded, a very forced grin on his face, “Right,” He turned around, went up to Time slowly and buried his face in his hands, “I’m givin up,” He groaned.

Four nodded, “That was pretty painful, yeah.”

“Yer suppos’d to b’ck me up!” Twilight pouted.

Their local smith hummed, and actually considered it, “Perhaps so,” They nodded, “But,” They grinned, eyes flashing through the colours, “That isn’t funny though.”

Chapter Text

Wind didn’t know what to think about the new guy. He was like so cool! Cool scars, cool long hair, cool blue eyes and he had a cool magic stone! He hadn’t told them what it was or how it worked but what Wind knew was super awesomely freaking cool. Wild had even disappeared into blue fucking strings! In one second he was just gone. If that wasn’t cool, then Wind would eat his boot.

He was also so so mysterious. Like a puzzle, and Wind liked puzzles. He was going to absolutely love this new Link. Wild. Even his name was cool and mysterious!

Okay, Wind thought with a grin, let’s solve this puzzle.

They had just left Hateno, Wild had given him one of the smaller horses. Derry she was called, apparently, she was a very tame and polite little horsie. One of the first Wild had caught. And yeah, he had to agree! Wind wasn’t the best horseback rider, he hadn’t even heard about horses until this very quest. So he hadn’t had the most practice. But Derry was a sweetheart. 

Wind and Derry were in the middle of the group, for safety Time had said. He tried not to be upset at that. It wasn’t a bad thing, not that he needed to be protected. But because he was the closest to everyone, one move, just a bit faster or slower and he could talk to anyone. That also meant he could see everyone. Including the long-haired cool guy.

Wild was, naturally, at the front. He knew this Hyrule, they were riding his horses. And seeing from the impressive mount Wild had shown them he was obviously a very skilled rider. His horse, a beautiful black stallion with all-black manes, was called Blendyn. All of Wild’s horses had different saddles, some simple and some with decoration. But Blendyn’s saddle was made of fabric scraps with little bones strung on some rope. Wind thought it looked super cool. Like a demon horse.

Spurring Derry on, Wind quickly went from the middle to the front. Almost next to Wild, but not totally. Time and Twilight had looked concerned at him when he passed but when he grinned at them, they relented. What a worrywarts.

“Wild!” He excitedly called his attention and almost started bouncing in his seat as the Link turned around to him.

“Yes?” He signed and Wind wanted to bombard him with questions. He could ride without holding the rope thingy?! Twilight had told Wind he was never allowed to do that! Wild had to teach him how to do that!

But that was for the future, Wind placated himself, “Who’s your best horse?” He asked instead, a very safe question. You didn’t start the puzzle in the middle, you started at the border. Safe and easy.

Wild shrugged his shoulders, “All horses that allowed it have been upgraded to the best of their abilities,” He pouted ever so slightly, “So ‘best’ isn’t an adequate measure.”

Oh wow, big words, Wind wasn’t that good in sign language, “Aha,” He touched his nose in thought, “Then, who is most impressive?”

Wind didn’t know what about his question hit a good nerve with the other, but Wild’s eyes crinkled, a glint in them that spoke of mischief, “Epona,” He said with his rough voice.

Twilight and Time looked up from their hushed conversation.

“Ye ‘ave an Epona?” Twilight asked excitedly.

Wild nodded, “They say she’s a horse of legends,” He had a fond smile on his voice, eyes warm, “In truth, she’s my partner in crime.”

“Cool! Now three of you have an Epona!” Wind gestured to the three of them, “Why isn’t she here?”

Wild looked from Wind to Twilight and Time with slightly wide eyes, “Is she also a reincarnated soul?”  

While Wind pouted about his ignored question, Time hummed lightly, “We’re not sure. There are plenty of people that are in most of our lives.”

“Huh,” Wild pouted and Wind had to refrain from grinning. Wild pouted when he was thinking! Puzzle! Puzzle! Puzzle! “Who do you also have?” At this point, Wild had turned around completely. Meaning that he sat backwards on his horse! Now Wind definitely needed riding lessons. 

He saw Twilight itching to chastise Wild about his riding. But ultimately, he said nothing.

“Of course, Zelda,” Time began, “Most of us have an Impa.”

Wild nodded, “The Sheikah elder.”

“Yes, although, she seems very different in all of our Hyrule’s. Beetle, in comparison, is suspiciously coherent through the times.”

“A funny man, that one,” Wind giggled, 

“He’s reliable,” Wild smiled down at Wind, “But funny.”

Bingo, Wind thought smugly. He got Wild to smile at him. He was so getting the hang of this, he and Wild were going to be the best of friends and Wind would throw it right in Legend’s dumb face! And Legend would absolutely hate it because even if he was being so rude to Wild, he was actually so curious about the new hero. Wind could see it in the way Legend eyed Wild’s stuff and movements. He could pretend all he wanted, Wind wasn’t blind. 

“So,” Wind wanted to change the conversation to something that had more opportunity, “Why is Epona your partner in crime?”

The hero, honest to Hylia, grinned at the question. (Take that, Legend and Twilight!) “Let’s just say,” Wild had this look in his eyes that scared but mainly, thrilled Wind, “She’s not afraid of fire.”

Oh, he was so fucking cool.

--

They hadn’t been riding for very long when Wild stopped their little formation, he pouted slightly as he looked straight forward. Wind followed his gaze and even when he saw nothing he squinted, trying his utmost best to see what was up ahead. But no, nothing. Just trees.

“Is there something the matter?” Time nudged his horse forward.

Wild looked from the horizon to Time and back, “Fort Hateno is up ahead,” He said simply as if that explained anything. But Wind had come to realise that he did that often.

“A fort?” Warriors had approached them just in time, “That’s great! What are we waiting for!” He was always excited to see the soldiers from different eras. It gave him ideas, he said. But most of the time he just bitched about everything he thought was wrong.

Zelda had said that this Link, Wild, had been a soldier. Wild had been adamant that those years were behind him, he hadn’t seemed very pleased by even the mention of his knight status. And that was only being reinforced now, Wind thought grimly as he looked at Wild. 

Wild looked pained. The corners of his mouth were slightly turned down. His ears laid flat against his head. And his eyes were turbulent. 

Although many of The Chain treated Wind as a child who didn’t know better, that wasn’t exactly the truth. He had spent many a week on the ships, with different people who had all their own stories. Some happy, most sad. He had seen how grown men and women broke down if the wrong subject was approached. 

He had seen how the most closed off of them simply just… stared. With eyes that told stories of hardship. Such energy and emotions that Wind was scared they would drown, not in the wild ocean, but in their own pain.

Wild was one of them, he realised. The hero looked at Warriors with eyes full of grief and something else that he couldn’t exactly point out.

“It’s in ruins,” Wild signed tensely, “Has been for a hundred years.”

Warriors blinked at the revelation, “It must have been quite the impressive battle, for a fort to have fallen,” He hummed in something like appreciation. Picturing a grandiose battle full of bravery and excellent strategy. Or that is what Wind thought he was doing. Knowing Warriors it was that or he was thinking that it would never have happened under his leadership.

Wild’s face distorted into something cold, something distant, “The battle was long and tough, only a small battalion was holding down the fort and they all died. Leaving only two to finish the fight,” He spurred on his horse and they started moving again. 

Warriors kept his place at the front with Wild and Wind, “Do tell more, how did it end?”

Wind looked at the captain behind Wild’s back with a frown. Yes, he wanted to know too. But something was bound to go wrong, Wild obviously didn’t like talking about it and he would probably just shut them out. Behind him, he realised that no one was talking, all of them were focused on Wild. How they saw what he was signing back there, Wind did not know.

To Wind’s surprise, Wild continued, “There were hundreds of enemies, they defeated them all. One of them got out,” He paused his rather short story as they approached the gate of the fort. And true to word, it was in ruins. Parts were breaking down, other parts were held up by wooden structures and it was obvious that Monsters used the spot to camp but they had been cleared out. As the horses stepped through they saw a clearing so large Wind couldn’t see where the mountains started. 

“Wow,” Hyrule led his horse forward, passing Wild who stood still. The others frowned but followed Hyrule, observing the magnificence of this era.

Legend hummed appreciatively, “Not bad. Not bad at all.”

Sky gasped, his gaze focused on the sky, “Are those sky islands?” He said in awe, gaze excited, “I thought I was the only one who had them!”

But Wild didn’t answer. In fact, when Wind looked over to him, he was pretty sure that Wild hadn’t even heard Sky. Instead, he stared at a seemingly innocent spot of dirt as if it had tried to murder him.

“Wild?” Warriors touched his shoulder carefully, but the boy did not react, his body simply swayed with the little force Warriors used. 

Twilight quickly spurred his horse next to them, grabbing Wild’s other shoulder, but still no reaction. “What do we do?” He looked towards Time with wide eyes.

But a gasp disrupted any chance of making a plan. Between Twilight and Warriors, Wild was blinking a lot, his eyes springing from one place to another. His breathing irregular. He was panicking, confused and the two buffoons next to him were too stunned to do anything about it. So Wind hastened Derry to them, waving Warriors away, he took his place.

“Hey Wild,” He took both his hands with much effort (Why was Blendyn so much larger than Derry?!), “Wild,” He called him again and squeezed his hands (they were cold, why were they cold?).

Wild’s breath hitched but he did focus his gaze on Wind, he nodded shakily but did not attempt to say anything.

“Twilight once fell in a puddle of Bokoblin pee,” Wind said with a grin, hoping to come over as cheery as he could.

And to his relief, it worked, the shock of the ridiculous story made it so that the other hero’s breath hitched again, but this time it was of shock and even a hint of amusement. Wild’s eyes watered as he looked from Wind to Twilight and burst out in laughter.

It was bright, full of life and Wind felt something thigh in his chest ease up at the sound. Wild laughing, tearing up at something so ridiculous, seemed so very right.

At the ship, with those people who took the pain and hid it under their skin, Wind had thought of them as brave. As people with courage. Strong. But as he grew older, as he met more people, met the chain, he realised that hiding was not necessarily brave or strong. He hadn’t realised what they were then or why they were not the image of courage he had previously thought of them.

But now, as Wind looked at Wild who had depths in his eyes that rivalled the great sea’s, laughing and doubling over from that laughter he realised it. Courage was laughing even after the pain. It was being locked away in some weird trance that left you shaken and confused, but still being able to focus on the child that called for your attention.

Bravery was not hiding the pain away.

Courage was not silently drowning in your own head.

No, those people were not the symbols of strength for Wind anymore. He looked at Wild and knew. He may not know what Wild went through, he may not know what horrors haunted his nightmares. But Wild, he had the courage and strength to laugh.

And if that wasn’t so fucking cool, then Wind didn’t know what else it was.

Chapter Text

“So, you’re telling me that this, ” Legend wildly gestured towards the stable, “Is the best you could do? How even is this holding up?! Because I can assure you that one bad storm should be the death of this… fabric monstrosity! You are how far into the future? And you can’t do stables and inns right?!”

Wild stood in front of him with his arms crossed, an eyebrow raised as he listened to the rants of Legend. It infuriated the shit out of the veteran, but if he dared to even look strange at the newbie, Twilight would bite his hands off. The dumb wolf was entrusted one person to take care of by some rude ass princess and suddenly he was as overprotective as Sky over that sword. None of those people had any common sense.

“And don’t let me start with the fact that rocks just fall out of the sky and not one sign warns travellers! Especially if they only fall in specific areas! Why aren't there signs, Wild! Signs!”

The newbie (Shit head, rude ass motherfucker, mysterious pretentious piece of shit) sighed deeply ( Oooooooh , Legend was going to beat his ass), “Signs are not needed. Travellers are well informed.”

“You say that until someone dies ,” Legend snapped.

Twilight finally stepped in (Yes, Legend had seen how they all huddled together, away from Legend’s ramblings. And no , he was not salty about it.), “Woh,” He grimaced, “Let'snot take it that far, eh?”

“Don’t butt in ranch hand,” He glared at Twilight, “Spice over here doesn’t need your protection.”

“Hey! Ya-”

“No,” Wild cut in, “The hero of Legends is right. I do not need your protection,” He huffed, his cheeks puffed (No, it did not endear him to Legend, shut the fuck up!), “Now. If you can excuse me.”

He left them a few metres from the stables to go inside, his horses grazing comfortably where they had dismounted. 

“Now c’ chat ya did!” Twilight accused him.

Wind pouted as he stepped closer, leaving the rest behind who had started their own conversation by now, a little pout on his young face, “Yall better not ruin the progress I made.”

“Ye didn’t make anything,” Legend rolled his eyes (And no, he hadn’t been looking at Wild and Wind carelessly talking from the back of the group. And he didn’t carefully listen to what they were saying.) “He has a soft spot for kids, he’s taken pity on ya.”

The kid gasped, “I’m not a kid!”

“Ya are!”

“Am not!”

Twilight sighed, “Yer b’th brats, now quit the yapping.”

Legend glared at the man. People did not say what he could and couldn’t do. He did what he wanted to do and no one could stop him.

“You’re exhausting,” Four had crept upon their little group, “Legend and Wild are right though, you don’t have to protect him or anyone, for that matter. We’re all heroes.”

Wind loudly agreed, “Yea!”

But Twilight didn’t have the same enthusiasm as their resident sailor, “The pr’ncess trusted ‘im to meh,” He expressed seriously, “I ‘ave to keep ‘im save.”

“Mothercuccoo,” Legend rolled his eyes, “If he survived two quests, he’s gonna be just fine.”

The farm hand didn’t seem convinced, worry etched into his brows but he didn’t fight Legend and Four (he would lose anyway). Instead, he hummed noncommittal before wandering off to the stables, following Wild. To check up on him or try to bond with him, but probably to do both. As if that was going to work, Legend thought snidely. Wild was nothing but rude.

“Wild’s so nice!!” Wind contradicted Legend’s thoughts so acutely that the veteran almost asked if he could read minds, “He promised to give me riding lessons!”

“Since when have you been interested in horses?” 

“Since I saw Wild ride!” The kid grinned with all his teeth (It was so childlike, so innocent that Legend felt a stab of grief in his heart).

“Oh yeah?” Legend sneered, “Are you that impressionable?” He rolled his eyes but had to ignore the ugly feeling that had been accumulating low in his stomach the last day. 

Wind raised an eyebrow but his smile didn’t disappear, “You think he’s cool too,” (And Legend hated how the kid was right. How that kid knew how Legend felt), “Don’t ya try to deny it!”

Four nodded approvingly, “The new guy has his charms. Even if he’s trying to hide them.”

“You’re impossible,” Legend huffed and turned to leave, “Go lick his boots for all I care,” He threw them an accusing glare over his shoulder.

“You’re just mad ‘cause I’m right!”

And damn, the kid was spot on again.

-- 

Legend hung back with a rather satisfied smirk on his face as Wild and Time were arguing about the route and the distance they had to travel. Wild wanted to travel through the evening to reach the Proxat bridge or something like that. But Time had seen the map and realised that if they went a different route they would pass Kakariko, meaning they could spend the night in an inn instead of the wild. 

Wild demanded speed from them. 

Time wanted safety and comfort for them.

If Legend was anyone else, just a normal person with no adventures under his belt, he would think of Wild as selfish. He would think of Time as righteous and kind. But he wasn’t just a normal citizen, he knew of time sensitivity. He was used to the taste of sacrificing his sleep. 

He debated, would he speak up for the kid? 

Kid.

It didn’t seem right, Wild was obviously an adult. Somewhere around 25, meaning that he was older than most of them. But something in those eyes, desperate as he kept debating Time, was something that spoke of childlike hurt. Childlike despair. And it looked so utterly wrong on that face. Scars that told stories of unimaginable hurt and years of hurting. Of years spent healing instead of living quietly and peacefully.

Wild’s posture, his words and actions spoke of apprehension coloured from years of fighting. But also of trust broken. Of hope shattered.

Childlike hurt but eyes so very beyond his age.

Legend looked at Wild and felt that same pang of pain in his heart that he felt when he looked at Wind. And Hyrule. And Four and fuck, all of them. He grieved them all and he sneered at even the connotation that they had wormed their way so deeply in his heart that he hurt for them. 

Especially Wild.

Wild. Rude dumb Wild. An insolent brat that he hadn’t even known for 24 hours and yet he already cared for. And who for whom he was debating himself to step up, to oppose Time. He had of course done that before, Time may take the leader role but it wasn’t official and he was only human, his decisions could be wrong. 

“We’re going to Kakariko,” Time used his no-nonsense voice. He said it like a statement. A plan. There was no space for objection. 

Ah, Legend had missed the opportunity.

Wild’s jaw was rigid, his eyes fiercely blue and full of disdain, “Fine.”

They had barely the time to see his sign before Wild had already mounted his horse and spurred on the magnificent black steed towards the right, bypassing the road between the mountains.

Time tried to look unaffected but Legend saw how his eye wavered. Twilight looked worriedly from Wild to his mentor. And Legend couldn’t blame him. 

He had felt anger towards all of them, he had felt annoyed at them. But something in Legend’s soul, the soul they all shared, made it so that no matter how stupid the others were, Legend could never truly dislike them. They all felt like that.

Or at least, he thought it was like. But apparently not.

The look in Wild’s eyes. That disdain. It was genuine. 

He mounted his horse, an unruly piece of shit that was admittedly a good horsie anyway, and quickly went after the newbie. He had to refrain from looking at Time with a feeling something akin to disappointment. He got the decision, just as he got Wild’s desire to move as quickly as they could. 

Speed could lead to carelessness, leading to their deaths. 

Carefulness could lead to the death of citizens.

Legend got that, he understood both. And he was not sure what he would’ve chosen himself. If he was alone, it would be speed. With this group? Probably safety, but not Kakariko. Wild was right, it would slow them down too much.

They had told Wild that they would follow his lead, that he knew these lands, so he made the decisions. And yet, Time took that away from him. And yes , he understood why but still he felt frustration for the new kid.

“Hey,” He had caught up with Wild, “What’s the plan?”

Wild glanced sideways at him, raising a single eyebrow he huffed, “Rest. Apparently.”

His words were loaded with anger, frustration. With Time, with himself. And Legend was going to slam his head against a fucking rock. Why the fuck does he care about these people at all?

“Not what I meant,” He rolled his shoulders to try to set Spice at ease, “Ya clearly not gonna take this. So what’s the plan?”

He saw how Wild tensed even more, his gaze sharp and incredibly intense as he considered Legend. And honest to Hylia, he actually felt a bit intimidated by that stare. His soul laid bare to Wild even if he did not want it to. They were soul sharers after all. Soul brothers Sky would say.

That was perhaps also why he knew that Wild would fight Time’s decision in any way he could. They had the same morals, the same devotion. The same foolish determination.

“I fight.”

Wild’s answer was everything Legend had expected. 

“Alone.”

And it was everything he wished it not to be. But he knew that he would have said the same.

So he hummed, sending a smug grin towards the rigid looking Wild, “Yer not fightin without me, I’ll chain myself to you if I have to.”

“Hm,” Wild found something in Legend’s eyes that he approved of and loosened his shoulders, “We leave this night.”

(Ha! Take that Wind and Twilight!)

--

Wild’s Kakariko was unlike any other Kakariko they had visited in their many months of travel. It was small, nestled into the mountains. Hidden and safe. Rather homely but it had this feeling of importance. The Sheikah were proud in all of their eras. It would be strange if they were not in Wild’s world.

They were also wary if Legend had to guess by their reactions as they entered the village. Their horses had automatically slowed down and refused to speed up (Legend was impressed by how well Wild had trained his horses, but he would never admit it to the boy). But even if they were going at a snail's pace, the villagers moved out of their way swiftly, grouping up in front of the storefronts. Faces carefully blank. Reminiscent of Wild’s apprehension.

“Link,” A young woman with a ridiculously large hat, the Sheika eye painted on her forehead, approached Wild with a small smile and a flush on her cheeks, “Welcome back.”

“Paya,” Wild nodded before dismounting his horse, “How’s restoration?”

The question made Legend look around with a new perspective, a new objective to search for. And it was not hard to find, not at all. To the right of them, a building had such a large gaping hole that Legend had initially thought it to be a design choice. But the boulders around the village proved otherwise. Looking up he saw a large ring structure snugly wedged between two mountain peaks. And a part that was just floating above it. Somehow.

“It’s going well. Your findings of the Zonai have been of tremendous help,” She gratefully hummed, “Although, our more elaborate restorations have been put on hold as long as Hudson is stuck at Lookout Landing.”

Legend didn't know who that was, but by the way Wild tensed he guessed that this Hudson guy was important. With that blank face that Wild donned so comfortably, he assured Paya that he would go there as soon as he could, that he would make it so that Hudson would be free to travel in no time.

Paya smiled, “You have our utmost gratitude,” She gave him a little bow even if Wild waved her not to, “Grandmother would love to see you before you embark on your travels.”

Wild nodded, “Of course. Would you do me a favour and arrange beds at the inn for my travel companions while I go visit her?”

She smiled and happily accepted before she walked off gracefully.

“So,” Warriors grinned down at Wild, “Popular with the ladies?”

“As if you know what it's like to be popular,” Legend huffed but enjoyed the laughter from Wind and Hyrule.

The captain glared, “If you must know, I am the most eligible bachelor of my Hyrule.”

Before they could start bickering, Wild simply held up his hand between them, silencing them effectively, “Paya is the granddaughter of my friend. Please do not make any insinuations,” When Warriors reluctantly agreed, Wild motioned them to follow him to the largest building of the village. It stood tall and proud, with waterfalls a gorgeous backsplash to the grandeur. The two guards looked warily at the large group but let them in after Wild whispered something to them.

When Wild had said that Paya’s grandmother was his friend, he had expected a rather young grandmother. Maybe sixty or seventy but the Sheikah elder was older than that, she extruded wisdom that spoke of an age beyond the normal expectancy. 

“Ah Link,” Despite her old age, her voice was still strong and steady, “I see you have encountered very peculiar companions.”

“Impa,” Wild greeted her (Ah, so this is Wild’s Impa), “These are heroes of the old. Hylia sent them.”

The woman studied them carefully. Her eyes were calculated and careful. And yet again Legend was reminded of Wild, “Hylia blessed heroes,” Impa acknowledged, “Incarnations of courage. You have been sent on a quest, what is it?”

Time stepped forward and explained it all yet again. It was always the same spiel: black blooded monsters, portals, time travel, an enemy they did not know. The whole yadda yadda. It had gotten boring long ago.

Impa was silent as Time told her the story, face impassive, body still. A perfect image of an elder, wise and patient. When the story was done, she did not ask questions, she did not speak to them. What she did was reach out her hands to Wild, who immediately sank to his knees. He took her hands gingerly but with urgency, desperation. 

“Link, my oldest friend,” She caressed his hands, “Hylia has called you yet again.”

Wild closed his eyes tightly, “So it seems,” He whispered hoarsely.

Her eyes, decorated by the marks of time, watered ever so slightly, “Such little time you have had for yourself in all your years and yet, your third adventure has started.”

Her words were carefully chosen, said so very gently. Yet again, Legend felt that very familiar grief well up deep inside of him. That sadness and despair that he pushed down at the very reminder of who they were. Heroes, tasked with Hylia given quests. Hero of Legends, the veteran, had ventured more quests than anyone else in the chain. He prided himself on the fact that he had probably seen most of life already. He had experienced enough for multiple lifetimes. 

And yet, it never had gotten easier to hear that another adventure was about to start. No matter how little or much time he had gotten to recover, the call for a new quest shook him to his very core. It unburied the deepest parts of him that despised the Goddess, who wanted nothing more than to hide in a forest and leave everything behind. It broke his dreams for peace every time and still, he dared to hope for an easy existence after he got home from his quests.

That was perhaps why he found it so hard to hear about the other’s quests, when he got reminded about their age. They reminded him of himself.

“My dear friend,” Impa smiled mournfully, “My friend of the past. May the Goddess lead you through your journey as she has done before. May you keep safe. And return to your people as we will wait and pray for you.”

“As I will pray to return to you,” Wild’s voice trembled.

Legend felt like an imposter, like he was not meant to see this even if Impa and Wild hadn’t hesitated the slightest second. They were simply paintings on the wall for the two friends, onlookers that were the cause of emotions that were supposed to stay in the past when Wild had started his previous quests. And yet, with their arrival, they were brought back up again. 

Wild’s back seemed so small before the old lady, his long hair dirtied with travel seemed to belong to a child that was playing in the fields. He was so young, so old. Legend felt that disconnect even stronger now he looked at them together. Impa was a friend to Wild and he too was her friend. And yet, they comforted each other as grandmother and grandchild.

Something was not right, something did not add up but so very little had they been told.

“Tell me,” Impa croaked, “What title has the Goddess bestowed you? What other name will you take upon your shoulders?”

“Wild,” He whispered, “She named me the Hero of the Wilds.”

“Champion of Hylians,” She released his hands and straightened her back “Personal knight of Princess Zelda,” He breathed in deeply and bowed ever so slightly, “Holder of the Champion’s wills and bearer of the Sage’s oaths. He who has defeated the calamity and demon king,” Impa laid a single hand on the crown of his head, “Hero of the Wilds. We ask you once again to sacrifice yourself and seek to restore the peace of not only this land, but to cross time and save all of Hylia’s land.”

Wild remained silent at the plea but no one doubted that he had heard it loud and clear.

--

The inn was small and only had a few beds, not enough for all of them so they would have to share. They were apparently looking into enlarging the inn though. Something about how tourism boomed after the upheaval. What the fuck was an upheaval? Legend did not know. He should ask around, gather information about this Hyrule and its hero. That is what they usually did. But this time it felt wrong with how recent the events were.

Something that was unmistakable though was how well everyone knew Wild. 

Most of the chain had gotten some fame from their quests. Some got nothing at all. But Wild? It was something wholly different for him. They knew who he was, but he was not someone unreachable to them. Not a celebrity, yet they looked at him as if he had personally hung the stars in the night. They welcomed him into their homes for dinner, they asked him to go say hello to certain people.

Wild was loved and he loved them all back. 

Legend saw it in the way Wild looked at them, fondness in those eyes that were cold and sharp when they looked at any of the Chain. It was the way that Wild could ask about all of their personal lives that Legend could see how much he cared.

Impa had said that the people would wait for Wild to return and now it was clear to Legend that the old woman was not wrong.

“Ye got connections to Kakariko?” Four asked curiously after yet another person left the inn after conversing with Wild for ages.

Wild looked puzzled by the question, “They say my mother was born and raised here,” He signed even if he looked confused.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Four quickly apologised, “You must miss her terribly.”

Legend almost laughed at Wild’s expression. The way his brows furrowed so deeply and how his mouth fell open, his nose scrunched. The boy looked so lost. 

It didn’t make any sense why he would be confused, the conversation was pretty darn normal. Wild’s answer implied his mother was dead and Four apologised.

“Wild,” Legend decided to help the clueless boy, “When did ya lose yer mom?”

“Unclear,” Wild signed with a shrug, not at all bothered by the fact he lost his mother.

Twilight looked at the boy as if he had lost some screws (he probably did), “What’ya mean?”

The newbie hummed as he started looking through his bullshit magic stone thing (that Legend was not jealous of), “Hungry?” He asked instead of answering the goddamn question.

Wind popped up from behind a bed, scaring the shit out of Hyrule, “Food? Is it good? Did you make it? Can you cook? Do you have something with fish? Or maybe soup? My grandmother makes the best food, do you think someone here can cook as well as her? Do you think we will be able to taste it?”

Legend almost swore to Hylia when he saw Wild actually smile at Wind’s ramblings. The little fucker did make progress with the newbie, what the fuck.

“Here,” Wild handed over an apple that appeared from those weird strings, “The inn will provide dinner for you.”

The kid appreciatively took a bite out of the perfectly ripe apple, “Awright, twanks,” He said with his mouth still filled with food.

Dinner for you, Wild had said. Not dinner for us. Legend observed Spice closely, he had gone back to swiping around on his stone shit thing. His brows ever so slightly furrowed. 

Ah, Wild wanted to leave before dinner then.

Alright.

“Newbie,” Legend called for his attention, “Is there a shop in this town?”

Wild’s frown remained for just a second before it cleared out, understanding in his eyes, “Yes. Do you need to restock?”

A clever one, that Wild Spice.

“Great, they better have good prices or I’ll badger them poor.”

Time looked over them with suspicion in his eyes but relented, “Be back before dark.”

Wild nodded forcibly, “Does anyone need something?”

“I’ll join ye,” Twilight was already standing up, taking his wolf pelt from the bed.

“No.”

Wild denied him quickly, his voice cold and fierce, “Small stores, nervous and secluded people. So we’ll go with two.”

“Oh.”

Auwch. Legend actually felt somewhat bad for Twilight. The poor guy looked as if someone had kicked his dog.

Very quickly Wild had a whole list of necessities they needed and off they went.

Legend smirked as they were getting farther and farther from the inn, “Ya do that lots? Lie and distract people to leave?”

Wild’s shoulders tensed but relaxed just as fast, “Sometimes,” He answered, “We’ll get what your companions need and then we leave.”

“They’re also your companions.”

“If you say so.”

Goddamnit Wild Spice.

--

Portals suck. They feel as if your body gets yanked up from the ground to then be thrown across an entire wheat field at accelerated speeds that should kill you as soon as you land. But you don’t. Instead, you abruptly stop, giving you whiplash. And you get dropped. Not from very high, you just get dumped on the ground. And your body was mostly fine, neither the speed nor the sudden absence of speed had any impact on your body. Only nausea remains.

Legend had expected teleporting to feel the same.

Wild had warned him that the first time was bad and that it would be worse because they were with two. But that had not prepared him for the feeling of being ripped apart and being put together again. 

It had started so innocently, just a sense of airlines that filled his entire body as if all his limbs had gone numb at the same time. But then he saw his fingers disappear into those blue strings and then the pain started. Legend had experienced plenty of pain in his life, he had sprained and broken bones. He had been thrown around by monsters and Hylia alike. Been punched and kicked by plenty of beings. But this pain, he would remember it as the worst of his life.

Every single particle of his very being was ripped from the rest. The very organism and structure he was made of quickly disassembled and thrown into a stream of magic that felt not entirely natural. And even if he was not whole anymore, if he was disconnected, he still felt all sensations of all different particles. He felt the pain of being ripped apart, of being apart when that was not supposed to be natural. Of the wrong magic engulfing him in his entirety even if he was not whole.

It was agony.

It was forever.

But it was also just a moment. Because suddenly he was put together again. Suddenly the pull that he felt from every part of him disappeared as he could feel his fingers again.

He was whole again. Aching lingered in his limbs but he was a singular being again.

Next to him, Wild looked completely normal, not a hint of discomfort on his face. Instead, he seemed rather chipper.

“Welcome at Lookout Landing,” He smiled at him.

“That fucking sucked,” Legend groaned.

Wild’s eyes widened for a second but a genuine grin quickly overtook his features, “You didn’t puke. So you’re doing better than my first time.”

Goddamn, Wild knew how to appease him.

“Linky!” A woman called from somewhere left of them. Wild’s reaction was immediate, he took Legend’s arm and led him towards a deck that was connected to a building with a huge telescope on top of it. To their right was a courtyard of some sort, a horde of Hylians and other races (how the fuck does Wild have Zora, Rito, Gerudo and Gorons?!) quickly rushing through it.

“Purah,” Wild let go of Legend as the woman launched herself at Wild.

“I was so worried when you didn’t get here immediately! It’s unlike you to stay away from trouble for so long!” She released him from her iron tight grip and took him in, “You’re not injured. So what happened?”

Wild glanced at Legend, “Long story. What’s the situation?”

Purah frowned at Wild and then at Legend, her eyes scanning him meticulously, “You can fight?”

Legend scoffed, “I’m the best ye can find.”

She laughed, “While Linky’s alive? I doubt it! But no matter,” Purah’s smile fell suddenly, “Hudson and his workers were out when a horde of monsters attacked the town ruins. They’re still there and holding up but they need to be rescued ASAP.”

Wild nodded, “I’ll do a quick scan, be right back.”

And he was gone, hurrying towards the place they teleported to, which was a huge tower now that Legend took the time to look. 

“The fuck is that?” He asked just when suddenly the floor beneath him shook. A large balloon beneath the tower blew up and deflated rapidly with much noise. Not even a second later a body flung out of the top.

Flung was the wrong descriptor though. No, the body, the man, Wild?????? Launched into the sky as a spear, it spoke of lots of practice and experience. He kept rising for so much longer than it took for him to get launched and after what felt like minutes Wild took out a cloth kind of construction. And he remained in the sky.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Purah grinned triumphantly at Legend (who was not staring with his mouth open!), “It took years to develop those towers.”

“You did?”

The young woman laughed, “Of course, dearie! Who else could it do,” Her smile took a sombre turn for just a second but it disappeared just as quickly, “Only Linky can actually use the towers but they’re worth the hassle.”

“So, they just shoot him up the air?”

“And fill in his map on the Purah map,” Purah nodded, “Oh, he’s coming back down.”

Legend looked up and paled. Wild was head diving towards the ground, no immediate action to somehow break his fall and he was only getting closer at alarming speeds.

“Holy fuck,” Legendbarced himself to witness horror as the newbie was about to turn into the dead one. And he was goddamn right, Wild didn’t pull out that stupid cloth thing. He just plummeted to the ground. Legend hadn’t seen it, he had closed his eyes just in time. But he heard the loud collision of his body onto the ground.

Oh Hylia, oh fuck. What was he gonna tell the others? He let the new guy die! Oh shit, oh no, how the fuck?! It wasn’t even actually his fault! Wild was being reckless and now he’s dead. And why the fuck wasn’t Purah screaming? Why the fuck was he hearing laughter? Are these people insane? These people are fucking insane! He knew it. Wild was insane, so of course the people of his Hyrule were insane. Just look at his Zelda!

“Legend.”

Great, now he was hearing voices! 

Wait.

He opened his eyes and there he was. Wild. In some stupid purple skin tight suit with lots of tassels and brown accents and a dumb owl mask.

“How the fuck aren’t you dead?” Legend demanded.

And Wild had the fucking audacity to burst out of laughter, “Sorry, sorry!” He was almost crying, “The Great Fairies upgraded this suit so well that I can fall from any height without any repercussions.”

“What the actual fuck?!”

Purah slapped his back, “Crazy, isn’t it! Linky has such interesting connections!”

Wild pouted, “Please don’t call the Great Fairies connections. They dislike that.”

“That’s literally the most insane shit I’ve ever heard,” Legend was still reeling from the whole experience, “How the fuck does that even work?” He had many a enchanted clothing, weaponry and jewellery. But completely negating the laws of physics? What the fuck.

The piece of shit that was his new soul sharer shrugged, “I give them the ingredients they ask for and pay. They do the rest.”

“If you won’t bring me to them, I will strangle you.”

“Noted, anyway,” His entire feel changed, the vague impression of magic that Legend felt from Wild turned cold, “There are about forty monsters. Mostly black bokoblins, one black boss bokoblin. About ten lizalfos and around five moblins. They have set up camp just behind the gate that leads to castle town.” 

“That’s a fuck ton, you think it’s better to get the others?”

Wild slanted his head, confusion in his eyes, “I agree that it’s more than usual. But we’re both skilled fighters. We should be fine.”

Okay, was Wild just that good a fighter or was he cocky as fuck and about to kill the both of them?

“If ya say so.”

Purah laughed again, “Don’t ya worry, stranger! Even if y'all aren’t fine, Linky will teleport both of you away in a second!”

The thought sent shivers down his spine, “Great.”

--

Don’t get Legend wrong. Most of the time he didn’t exactly enjoy fighting. 

He enjoyed saving people and knowing that his pain and trouble made people safe. And sometimes, when he was frustrated or angry, or when the monsters were extra annoying, he really enjoyed kicking their ugly asses.

Fighting in the chain had been more enjoyable too, it was nice knowing someone had your back. It was also nerve wracking to know that someone other than you could get injured.

So, when he and Wild made their way towards the gate with the monsters he had been stressing somewhat. They had never fought together before and he had also never seen Wild at all. He could fight, that was obvious, except if the calamity and upheaval were some checkers competition Legend didn’t know about. But how did he fight?

Wild had been a knight, so did he fight like Warriors? But he had an apparent dislike for the army, so did he abandon their teachings? Resulting more in a fight style that’s reminiscent of it? Like Sky?

Turns out, it was both and neither.

Wild had given him a stupid looking helmet to wear while they fought but would not explain why. And oh boy, some explanation would’ve been very handy. 

They were hiding behind some planks of wood close to the gate when Wild started fiddling with his Purah pad. His clothes changed in blue string (Fuck, it was starting to get difficult to deny that he wasn’t jealous of the stupid thing). His dumb-looking physics denying suit was replaced by an airy pair of pants, no shoes but he did have an ankle bracelet, body paint and fur as a chest piece (what the fuck???) and some dumb fish helmet.

“You look horrible.”

“Thank you.”

“How are you not dead yet, wearing those clothes?”

“Magic.”

“Of course.”

Wild grinned at him and went back to his pad, his weapons changed in the same blue strings. A mighty bow, a large and heavy looking sword and the Hylian shield were now on his back.

Then suddenly, the rings on his prosthetic arm pinged with light. From them blue dots emerged, flew away and enlarged into four figures. A Zora, larger than average. A smaller than average Gerudo woman. A very average Goron and a fucking Rito child.

“Wild.”

“Yes?”

“Who the fuck are they?”

“The sages.”

Ohhhhhhhhhhh, that’s what Impa meant.

It still didn’t explain shit though.

“And how?”

“They’re connected to my soul by some ancient pledge.”

“What the fuck.”

Wild shrugged, not bothered by the literal blue transparent ghost fucking things, “Let’s go.”

Legend did not enjoy fighting, not most of the time.

But. 

Wild, he was something else to behold. To fight alongside.

They had barely approached the horde of monsters when Wild motioned him to stop. He touched hands with the blue figure of the Gerudo woman and suddenly the world turned yellow and charged. Lightning. No wonder Wild had given him a helm, it must be lighting resistant (or so he hoped). Wild took out his bow and readied three arrows (what the actual fuck? You can do that?!)His breathing slowed down and Legend could see how his eyes seemed to sharpen. His pupils got smaller, and more pronounced. The brilliant blue seemed as charged with electricity as their surroundings.

With no warning, Wild released the arrows.

Everything was on fire, plenty of monsters were dead in one swoop. And Legend felt his heart quicken. Not in fear or worry as he had predicted. No, it was excitement. Pure, unfiltered, excitement. He ran after Wild and those ghost thingies with glee on his face, his weapon of choice ready to be blackened with blood.

A whole row of bokoblins charged at him but a ball of fire blew them away, leaving a blaze of bodies. The Goron, Legend saw it briefly before it returned to Wild’s side. Said boy sprang into the fire, pulling out the cloth contraption and rocketed into the sky. But instead of just letting himself fall, he let the cloth go and pulled down his bow. Time slowed, Legend realised with glee, Wild slowed down motherfucking time with a bow! And before he knew it, more monsters were down.

At this rate Legend wouldn’t have killed anything, he thought incredulously. And he couldn’t let that happen, could he.

So, sword in hand he charged into the middle of things. Slashing down the weak bokoblins, they work with colours Wild had explained. And now that he was fighting them, it was very apparent. Not only was their strength different, but their intelligence was too. No matter though, with Wild having literal eyes on every front, this would be a walk in the park.

That was until screams travelled through the battlefield.

There, Legend spotted the origin. It was the barricade where the workmen had hidden themselves behind, it had broken and the monsters were overrunning them. They were trying to defend themselves with hammers and shovels, but it had little effect. Legend started running towards them, slashing down monsters on his way but doing little damage due to his hurry. 

A small and stumpy man was in front of the group, fighting as best as he could. Some of his moves were reminiscent of the Gerudo techniques, solid but his hammer was unequipped for such force. It broke just as a bokoblin, silver of colour, raised its travellers' sword. Legend was going to be late.

That was until he saw electricity pass him by, it was not all engulfing as before, but concentrated into a singular arrow. It struck the monster right in the head, paralysing it momentarily. But with its weapon dropped and the extra time, Legend could slide underneath its legs, sword slicing through the body. It was already crumbling into nothing when Legend got up.

“Thank you!” The man smiled at him before he literally punched a monster, “That would’ve been real bad!”

“My pleasure,” Legend grinned and started hacking down at the monsters again. 

Don’t get him wrong, he doesn’t normally enjoy fighting.

But that was fun.

--

“Ah, Link!” The man he had saved went up to Link with the widest smile, “I see you came to help me out yet again!”

Wild smiled, “Hudson, I’m glad you’re alright,” He switched to sign.

Ah, so that was the man Wild was worried about, laughed heartily, “Thanks to your friend over there!”

Legend smirked, “It was easy.”

He expected Wild to call him out for how slow he had been, too slow. But the newbie did nothing like that, he instead smiled gratefully. Huh.

Hudson frowned ever so slightly, even with the smile on his face, “You came right on time, we had no more materials to strengthen the barrier. We would’ve been killed.”

Wild stilled for just a second but quickly recovered, he laid a hand on Hudson’s shoulder and smiled, “You’re alive,” He said hoarsely, “Your wife still has a husband and your daughter still has a father.”

The man wiped away tears, “Thank Hylia.”

“You’ve been requested at Kakariko,” Wild signed, obviously redirecting the man’s mind, “Something about big restorations.”

“Ah yes! I had already forgotten with this whole monster obstacle! Thank you, my friend. I am once again in your debt.”

Wild shook his head, “No debt.”

Hudson smiled softly, “At least accept my wife’s invitation to a meal. It’s the bare minimum we can do to repay you.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

It was no time at all when Hudson and his workers left, making their way to their next job. Legend was impressed by the work ethic and wondered, how often did things like this happen? They had been so normal about the whole situation. In his own world, if people got trapped by monsters for about two days, they would cry for hours. And not that he blames them for that. But still, in comparison to the people of this Hyrule, it was rather pathetic.

“Ah, it’s already dark,” Legend came to the realisation as he said it.

Wild hummed, “It’s about three in the morning,” He signed before going back to farming monster guts and parts (Disgusting, but who is he to judge).

Wait, how the fuck was Wild shining? He was literally a walking light.

“Light potion,” Wild simply answered when questioned.

“Time’s gonna kill us.”

Wild didn’t seem bothered.

--

“What were you thinking?” Warriors pinched the bridge of his nose and Legend already wanted him to shut the fuck up, he was still dizzy and sick from teleporting, “Do you have any idea how badly this could have ended?”

Wild rolled his eyes (dangerous shit), “We would’ve been too late.”

But that did nothing to lessen the anger of the captain, “Wild, we’re a team now. You can’t just walk off on your own!”

Legend scowled, “I was with him,” He didn’t like to be overlooked, so his words were biting.

“That isn't any better!” Warriors threw his arms in the air.

“I have fought larger hordes on my own,” Wild signed agitated, “With Legend’s help it was over very swiftly.”

Legend grinned at the reminder of the fight, some of the adrenaline still in his veins, “Hate to admit it, but Wild Spice over there can fight.”

Warriors opened his mouth to rebuke (probably to scream at them if Legend knew the captain well. And he did) but Time held up his hand, sushing the man. He slowly stood up, now towering over Wild and Legend, “You both ignored our plan. You ignored the agreement you would be back at night time. You left without any word,” His words were a mix of anger and disappointment. Both were cutting to receive from Time, “You were reckless.”

“People would have died,” Wild reiterated again but his signs were more cutting than before.

“ You could’ve died,” Time said harshly, “ Legend could’ve died!” He gestured towards the veteran, “And you show no remorse.”

“Hey! Don’t use me as leverage!”

Time glared at him, “You should know better.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Legend started to feel his blood boil, his anger getting to his head “Wild’s right and you don’t want to admit it! People would’ve died!”

“You could’ve died!”

A loud bang stopped their argument. Wild, standing over the now broken table, breathed heavily. Tears in his eyes, “You’re not even listening. People would have died. We were just on time to save them.”

Time breathed in sharply but quickly pulled himself together, “You should’ve taken more people.”

“You would’ve fought me every step.”

“I would’ve listened.”

Wild laughed, it was unhinged, manic. He looked up to the heavens and swore, “Hylia damned,” He sharply looked down again at Time, “I know every citizen in this godforsaken land. Do you have any idea what I would have to do if I was too late? I would have had to go to their families. Parents, partners, children! To tell them I failed! That their loved one is dead because I was too busy trying to convince you!”

The room was deadly silent.

Even Legend felt as if the air was punched right out of his lungs and he had been at the damn fight! 

“I,” Wild’s voice cracked, “Would have had to travel to Gerudo to tell sweet Maddison that I failed her father. That he was dead,” His breath hitched, “ So no, I have no remorse. Because I don’t have to help with organising any funerals today.”

“And I understand that,” Time slowly said, obviously trying to calm down the situation, “But you can't sacrifice your safety like that. Not when there's help available.”

“Sacrifice?” Wild's eyes were wide, his scars pulled visibly with the movement. The fire of the candles lightened them so that fire seemed to cradle his face, “You have no right,” His voice cracked, “To talk to me about sacrifice.”

With that Wild moved his hand swiftly over the Purah pad, and without having to look he disappeared into blue strings.

And he was gone.

Legend stood silently, staring at the blue strings that had mostly vanished by then. His head was empty but so incredibly busy at the same time. That was the most Wild had said to them using his voice and Legend wished that it was never uttered at all.

“Well, fuck.”

“Language,” Warriors scolded Wind but it did not have the usual energy.

Time slowly let himself fall on the chair he was sitting on before, his entire body was shaking ever so slightly. They had been travelling together for not even two days and yet, everything had fallen apart. Legend could sympathise, he could see why Time did what he did. But Legend had seen the worker they had saved. He had seen how they all knew Wild so very closely, how sure they had been that he would show up and save them.

To be Wild, to know that people were so sure about him, what incredible pressure that must be. His apprehension to their slow travel, to Time’s insistence on rest, seemed so much more reasonable now and Legend had already thought it to be right before.

“Time,” He looked at the defeated man with disappointment. And now, he would not be ashamed to show it, now, he was sure that the man had been wrong, “You should trust Wild.”

Warriors huffed, “You? Talking about trust? That’s new.”

“You shut up,” Legend snapped, “The kid trusts me because I trusted his judgement. That’s why I could come along. That is why I know why he wanted to go fast.”

Twilight looked desperate, “Then tell us.”

“This Hyrule is so unlike any of ours,” Legend thought of the towers, the ruins he had briefly observed, the castle that was literally floating. The way that a horde of 40 monsters was just a bit more than normal, “I don’t think I could even begin to explain how extreme everything is. But,”

“But?”

“I think I understand why he is called Wild now.”

Chapter Text

The sky islands were just called that, sky islands. They had individual names but nothing more. Their descriptor was just that, a descriptor. Link thought it was a waste, that those islands that existed of unimaginable magic and beauty deserved a name as equally gorgeous. 

He didn’t exactly know what the name should be, he wasn’t one to be poetic. If he was he wouldn't have called his first horse ‘Horse’, to be fair, he had been awake for just a few weeks and the only name he actually knew was Link. And he couldn’t just call his horse Link, could he? But that doesn’t excuse a name like the sky islands, that was as bad as just weeks old Link!

Especially The Great Sky Island. Such a boring name. 

Also, what was his problem with waking up at locations called something something great? It was the Great Plateau at first and then the Great Sky Island. Unoriginal if you asked him.

He sighed and let himself fall over, staring at the stars that were dimming as the sun began to rise. High up in the skies, the air was cold and biting. But it was silent. Kakariko, so far below him, was silent. North Necluda Sky Archipelago as it was called, had a dumb name.

Link was a dumb name. 

Dumb name with a dumb past that was also very annoying and a pain in the butt.

A bird screamed in the far distance, Link knew that particular scream, it was ready to hunt. Kill and survive. Nature was simple like that, eat or be eaten, fight and win or be defeated. His life had been eerily similar so far, although most people didn’t like it when he described it like that. One time, Sidon had sat him down to explain that life wasn’t supposed to be about only survival. That they were blessed with the ability to love, to feel. 

Emotions were immense, everlasting, a wide ocean that had no end in sight, Sidon had explained. It was possible to hate and love the same person. To want someone but to despise them to your core.

To be Hylian meant that nothing was easy. That nothing should be easy. It meant that life was full of hardship. Full of beauty. A wonder of complexity, not purely a feat of survival.

Link’s entire worldview had shifted after that conversation. His interactions with the people of Hyrule were forever changed, it wasn’t about trading information and goods to survive anymore. He could care for them and he learned that they cared for him in return.

Yet he could not enjoy it. Not entirely, he wouldn’t be able to live that fully for years. Not until Zelda could walk with her people again. Not until the souls of the Champions were free. 

Not until he could do what the version of himself, a hundred years in the past, couldn’t do.

Only after he defeated The Calamity could he breathe. When he defeated all monsters after the last blood moon, he could wake up without fearing for his life. Only then could he go visit his new friends with a smile on his face, his head free of worries. 

When he did what he couldn’t do when he was the him from a century ago. When he finally became a better version of the knight they lost back then. That was finally the moment he could live life.

That was the moment he earned the right to just be. To lay down his sword and enjoy the small life he had been granted. 

Finally, he felt like life was allowed to be something else than a constant fight. It actually started feeling like all the struggles, the fights and the wounds had been worth it. He could start to see why anyone would want to settle down and raise the next generation.

Link could suddenly learn about the world around him, not because of necessity, not because he would die without that information. But because he wanted to know. How were weapons made before The Calamity? Why did the colours of certain flowers vary with different soils? What were the holiday traditions of the different races of Hyrule? And why were they different?

He learned the native languages of all races. He learned to walk amongst them, accepted as one of their people for he was their saviour and their friend. He brought them together, helped build Tarrey town into what it was today. He belonged, he was wanted. Not for his sword, not for his past but because he was Just Link to them. The guy that helped them, that didn’t say no.

And so, when Zelda came to him for help to connect the races, Link felt proud. For the first time since he woke up, he felt like Hyrule and its people were finally ready to leave The Calamity behind and heal. Just as the ruins had started to get overgrown with plants and wildlife, the wounds of the people finally had the chance to scab over. Their Champions were finally laid to rest, their princess was safe and the monsters ceased to be.

They had the opportunity to live a life of safety. A normal, mundane life.

But then the sickness started.

Gloom seeped from the ground surrounding the castle. And it infected the healing lands around it, destroying progress that had taken them years in just a few weeks. It indefinitely delayed their plans of rebuilding Castle Town, forcing the people to flee just outside the gates.

Then the Blood Moons started again, irregular but close to each other. It scared the people, made it so that they stopped travelling, forcing them to hide in their villages. They looked towards Link again, not for help with their Hateno Cows or demonic Cucco’s, but for safety. 

Earthquakes started plaguing regions that never had them, resulting in caves and passageways that had been hidden for centuries. Houses took damage, lands shifted. People who had not taken kindly to the return of the Monarchy sent letters to the fort that now sat just before the castle, asking for help. Shameless and embarrassed they begged, and Zelda could never refuse.

So they explored the castle, now even more destroyed, even more unexplored. Hallways and basements that weren’t there before, were revealed to them. Zelda loved them, Link enjoyed her enthusiasm but knew something wasn’t right. Some deep, primal part of him he had put to rest after he had killed the last monster, woke. It rumbled and groaned.

And then they found him.  

Dehydrated, large, intimidating.

Deadly.

And he knew them. Link and Zelda, and the sword that could banish the darkness. He had expectations of Link, ones he failed. 

The sword broke.

Zelda fell. And Link missed her. Her hand had been so close to his, his disgusting and infected hand that crumbled with just a breeze. So very close she had been, and yet so far away. He would never forget the look of desperation and fear in his eyes as their fingers grazed but failed to latch on. How her radiant blond hair glowed with divine energy just before she disappeared.

He had failed.

Link had failed again.

His princess was gone and he had let that happen. Again.

He fell, the one he swore to protect gone, and all seemed lost. And there was no resurrection shrine to save him again, Hyrule would fall again and he, again, was the reason for it and this time he wouldn’t be there to save it. 

Yet, he awoke in a dark cave again with something lost. His arm gone, replaced by one alien and strange. Zelda gone.

How cruel Hylia was. 

Everything he had spilt blood, sweat and tears for, so much he cherished, was gone. His health, his stamina, his arm, his best friend, gone. The monsters were back, lands had been uprooted, craters that led to the very depths of the entire continent disrupted nature. All regions of Hyrule were plagued with disasters that put their very lives in danger and he had been taking a goddamn nap again.

Oh, how he had cried when he realised just what he had lost. 

He closed his eyes and remembered how confusing but enchanting the few first weeks had been. How wonderful he had found nature on the Great Sky Island, how free he had felt so far away from everyone. But how he felt nauseous as he thought about the people beneath, his people. His Zelda.

He remembered sitting down for a long while after Rauru talked about her. He spoke as if he knew her very well, as if he had heard about Link very often. It wasn’t silent back then, nature on the Great Sky Island was abundant and lively. 

Just as the grass back then, the grass now, tangled in his fingers, felt ever so slightly different textured so high up. Something about the air pressure forcing the grass to evolve into a sturdier kind, Zelda and Purah had theorised. No matter, he thought. It was still just some grass, a feat of survival, yes. But grass.

Being resistant to the world did not mean it was extraordinary.

Dew started collecting on the ground, dampening his clothes, so slowly, he got up. His limbs ached from exhaustion and the cold. His scars pulled from the lack of care as he had been too preoccupied with them. His gaze travelled down to Kakariko, so little and insignificant from so far up. So innocent, as if his worst nightmare wasn’t in the inn right now. 

Why was Hylia so cruel? They had told Link that She plucked them from their timelines and just dumped them where they were needed. So why was it that She chose now? Why only two weeks after he had defeated the Demon King? Link wasn’t ready yet. 

Hyrule wasn’t ready for him to leave yet.

The Blood Moons had not stopped. Monsters were not cleared out yet. Link had so much to do, his work far from finished. And still, She brought them here. To do what? They said that they will need Link’s help in some battle with dangerous monsters but their leader does not listen or trust him. The people were still in danger but they slowed Link down.

So why would the Goddess bring them here if it wasn’t to show him what real heroes looked like? 

The stories of the Heroes Of The Past had mostly been lost in time and when The Calamity hit. So Link knew little of them, but their names. But what he knew, what he remembered of his time in the army, of his countless hours of training was that Heroes never failed. They prevailed, they fought. 

The heroes won and there was no space for hesitation, fear or failure.

Link had to win. And he didn’t. He had died, he had failed.

They did not.

The Goddess was cruel.

An absent mother, Legend had called her just that morning. But Link had to disagree, She was everywhere in his life. She healed him, traded him vitality and stamina, talked to him when he was in doubt. Kind but distant when they talked but so incredibly cruel in her actions.

He had fought and bled, for the people of his Hyrule. Link had done everything he could as soon as he had awoken, with no memories and no goal. Just a voice asking for help and yet he did not hesitate. Everything.

He did everything.

And he won.

He fought and he died and he fought and he won. And all was well. And then it wasn’t. He failed. But still, he did everything. He had gotten Zelda back, he had defeated the Demon King. Even with the loss of his arm and Rauru’s arm, he fought on. He got used to the prosthetic arm while he fought because that was what his people needed.

He won.

He fought and he adapted and still, it wasn’t enough. Hylia had dumped eight other heroes on his doorstep. Heroes that didn’t fail. Heroes that expected him to be someone he wasn’t.

She just had to rub his failure into his face, did She?

They, those heroes, were so jovial. So… happy, no, that was the wrong word. Content? At peace? Okay? Ugh, whatever, he pulled out a handful of grass. Stupid stupid grass. Those people, they had waltzed into his home. They had been so at peace in that house when he walked in, casually joking around. Acting like there was not a care in the world while apparently, all of their worlds were in terrible danger.

How could they do it?

How could they smile at him, try to joke when everything was ending again?

How could they ask of him to slow down and rest when his people were in active danger?

Link’s breath hitched as he thought of the conversations, their nonchalance. The leader’s insistence on safety and rest as if Link ever wanted something else. All he ever wanted was peace and safety. But that wasn’t an option as long as people were depending on him to save their lives. He could not be safe when his people were not.

He couldn’t stand still when they still suffered from his failures.

The Rito were still feeling the effects of their damaged crops, even if they were the first ones Link went to help. The result was them limiting their own food intake and disbanded all exportations through trade routes. Arrows were already becoming scarce and messages took longer to get around.

The Gerudo their trade routes were still slow going and the occasional Gibdo still wandered into the towns, resulting in injuries. Temperatures were still extreme and abnormal, sandstorms still weathered the desert far more than before. Little travellers dared to enter land, less Gerudo women had the desire to send their daughters back to Gerudo.

The majority of Gorons were still actively suffering from withdrawal, even if the Rock Roast didn’t exist anymore. Impacting not only their local community but also their economy. Gems had decreased in value and the many Goron missing from work due to withdrawal made it so that the rebuilding of Hyrule slowed down exponentially.

The Zora’s water had cleared but many had died due to the slug literally choking them. Both young and old were lost. And now, months after the slug was cleared and the monster vanquished it became clear that the waters had poisoned the fish. Plenty of fish had been contaminated and the majority of eggs had died, breeding grounds were destroyed. They now had to go fish in other, more unsafe, rivers and tried to buy from the Rito, but they too did not have any fish extra.

Hyrule was in shambles. Many were actively in search of more food and stability. Many were just recovering from the sickness.

And yet, here came Hylia, here came eight other heroes, acting as if Link had the time for all of this. As if he had the energy, the will, to start his third quest when his second hadn’t actually been dealt with.

Tears welled up in his eyes and he looked up, feeling lost, at the sky. The dark blue of the night was beginning to make way for the oranges and pinks of the morning. Another day, another fight.

And he wondered as a single tear slid down his cheek, did Zelda sleep? Or had she sat beside the lake of their house for the entire night, gazing into the water, observing how it reflected the sky she had traversed for millions of years? Did she lose herself again in the ripples of the water? And did she startle awake to search for Sonia, only to realise that she has been dead for so long that her bones have fossilised?

Did Purah, his saviour, visit the graves of her friends who lost their lives more than a hundred years ago, when The Calamity hit and she was ordered to put his body in the Resurrection Shrine? While almost everyone she loved was left behind in the burning castle town and research lab? Did she regret so much that she couldn’t sleep, like him? Or did she make peace?

Could Impa look at her granddaughter and not think about Link’s life? Would she ever be able to get past the fact that they were supposed to grow old together? That they would’ve attended each other's weddings, that they would’ve been adults with their own lives. But that he had died, instead. That he lost his childhood to the sword and his adulthood to the Goddess? Was she able to fall asleep knowing that Hylia was taking him away, again? Was she planning to keep him at Kakariko, this time, like how she had considered when he had just woken from the Shrine of Resurrection? When he had known nothing but his own name and destiny.

Did they stay awake with the knowledge that this may well be his last adventure?

He should say his goodbyes, Link realised. Not only to them, the only loved ones from a hundred years ago, but to everyone he held dear.

Riju, his little sister in everything but blood. His partner in crime, always willing to prank her own people. Always willing to go hunt Molduga for sport. Emotionally intelligent and kind, a generous leader to her people and a great friend.

Yunobo, a dear friend that always managed to be reliable and kind even if he was afraid. He always went out of his way to be generous and helpful. He found braveness in kindness and did all he could.

Tulin, the brave fledgling that had reminded him of someone he had forgotten. Someone he had loved dearly and yet, had no face. A small child, always in the back of his mind, the smell of their hair, something he missed but could not pinpoint. Tulin, the son of his dear friend, was brave and fearless. He knew what to do and would not hesitate to get to his goals. Link thought of him as something like a protege, his little sibling.

And Sidon, his best friend even if he was now a king and a married man. The one he went to with his doubts, his regrets. He had been just a child when Link died, when Sidon’s sister died. And yet, he had never blamed Link, moreso, he was grateful to the Hylian Champion. They had connected on the little memories Link had of the Zora they both loved. Even silence used to be comfortable with them. He had been Link's greatest comfort. 

And yet, he was about to leave them all.

They would be devastated if he left without a word. And Link could not do that to them, not again, not after how scared they were when he disappeared with Zelda all those years ago. When they had fallen beneath the castle and had both awoken in a place so strange. She in the past, he in the sky. Link had asked Purah and then so many others how long it had been since he had vanished. How long they had thought he and Zelda were dead? But no one wanted to answer him. Purah told him she was happy he was alive. Impa looked at him with sadness. Sidon had frowned, muttering about how long his life was and that time had little meaning to him.

They tried their best to withhold the information from him and yet, in the end, it was a gossiping stable hand that accidentally let him know. Three months, he had been gone for three whole months while he let his people suffer, while they thought him to be gone. Dead.

He couldn’t do that to them, not again.

Hylia be damned. 

The Chain be damned.

Even if a portal appeared at that very moment, he would go visit his friends. The ones he loved, for they were the ones he would come back to, they were the ones he would miss so dearly. They were his home.

Link brushed away the tears, let himself shiver in the emotions for just a second more and took his Purah Pad. He considered where he should go first and decided to start with Yunobo.

The blue icon of Marakuguc Shrine brightened as the teleportation technology started to disassemble Link’s very being. He was not ready to break the hearts of those he loved and not ready to leave them behind. But he couldn’t help being just a bit happy that he got to see them at least one more time before he left them. Another quest, another adventure, another opportunity for him to never come back.

And if the quest turned out to be as dangerous as they seemed to think, if it turned out more deadly than he had anticipated, then he could at least join Hylia with no more regrets than he already had. 

He had plenty of regrets already, many he could never undo, many that were about the deaths of the ones he loved. The ones he couldn’t save, the greatness of Hyrule that was destroyed because he was too weak. The ones he couldn’t save because he was too busy fighting to hear their S.O.S. call.

Even with the little memories he had, he missed Daruk and his brotherly protection. He missed Urbosa and her tough love. Even Revali and his own messed-up version of affection had left a hole in his heart. And Mipha.

Mipha, whose name brought up feelings of inconsolable grief, the one he was going to marry. She was the one who he missed the most, who he felt most guilty for because he still had so little memories of her. Her Grace was filled with love and protection; it was deep and potent. Unending, even in death, even if the other champion’s souls had moved on and their gifts had lost most of their power, it remained tightly beside his heart. Warming it in moments he was about to lose hope, caring for it when it shattered underneath the pressure once again. 

She was love itself and she was gone.

Link had never been able to say goodbye to them, he never heard their S.O.S. call. And he would regret that for as long as he lived. It would leave a hole in his heart that could never be filled, only the space around it that others occupied would soften its emptiness. 

As he had many regrets about how he lived his life, of Before and After, of what he did and didn’t do. What he let happen and what he should’ve stopped. But leaving everyone he loved behind without proper farewells, that would not be among those regrets. Not again, not after his first and second journeys. 

This time, he would spare the ones he loved of that regret. They would never wonder what would've been said if they spoke to him one last time. They would look back with a smile and appreciate their last moments together. Because this time, Link had the chance to say his goodbyes.

This time, Link would prepare for his inevitable failure.

Chapter Text

“All I’m sayin, is that yer an asshole!” Legend snarled and twirled his fork in the direction of Time, Warriors and Twilight, so Hyrule didn’t know who he exactly meant.

Time looked rather unaffected, Warriors was offended and Twilight looked like he might cry or punch someone, those two expressions were rather similar with the wolf. 

“You’re no saint, either,” Wars crossed his arms, “And although you are right, we should have listened to Wild. You really should not have run off with him.”

“Ya don’ know the lands,” Said Twilight solemnly, “The old man’s right, ya could've gotten injured.”

Legend glared, “Yall really don’t wanna believe me, huh.”

“Leg,” Hyrule hesitated, nervously pulling on his fingers, “Yer sayin tha ye beat a forty strong horde just ya two.”

Four frowned, “It’s hard to believe.”

“Sounds cool though!” Wind pushed Four out of the way and got all up in Legend’s face, “So what did ya say that happened? Something ‘bout lightning and rocks?”

“A Gerudo girl and some Goron,” Legend corrected, “And I don’ care how crazy it sounds! I’m telling ye, it happened!”

Hyrule observed Legend closely, he sat with crossed arms, his brows furrowed in the way they did when he was genuinely angry or upset. The story they had been told felt improbable, pretty ridiculous, even. And yet, Hyrule didn’t think that Legend was making anything up. Wild had summoned ghosts who fought alongside him. All of them with their own powers.   

He hadn’t thought Wild to be weak, none of them were. But Hyrule still had it difficult to accept that their new hero had abilities that went beyond his imagination. Abilities that made it so that forty monsters did not scare him.

None of them were weak, but none of them would jump into a battle like that. And yet, Wild had done just that. More so, he lived to tell the tale. Was it stupidity if he could actually do it?

“So, Wild’s a genius,” Warriors raised an eyebrow, “Is that what you’re saying?”

“If yer takin it like that, sure,” Legend shrugged tensely, “But I don’ think he is, I think he’s just used to numbers like tha.”

And if that wasn’t a frightening thought, Hyrule had to repress a shudder. His lands, his Hyrule, was a sickly place with roaming monsters a plenty. They were with many but they kept in small groups, prayin on travellers and unsuspected citizens with stealth. Large groups couldn’t do that. They were loud and slow to move, but what they lacked in surprise, they made up for in brute strength. Just a few monsters were enough to overwhelm one person.

And yet.

“He’s a survivor,” Sky’s small voice concluded from somewhere in the back of the room, “Fi called him ‘ He is who did all he could do’ and she’s not one to exaggerate.”

Wild’s lands had spoken to Hyrule in a way that no other land except his own had done. Its abundance of nature, its loneliness and its scars. All of it was reminiscent of his own home, of the pain it had experienced and how slow it was to heal. But Wild’s land was lush and green, it had persevered, it had fought the battle and survived. 

It gave Hyrule hope for his own land.

‘He is who did all he could do.’

It gave him the confidence to try too.

Legend looked at Sky with a stricken face and let his arms fall defeated, “I thought so already, to hear Fi of all people, say that. Well. It just seals the deal, doesn’t it.”

The Chosen Hero looked down at the blade, “She said that,” He paused, the silence heavy, “That she failed him.”

Oh Shit.

That’s no good.

“And that’s new?” Heads snapped towards Four, eyes wide, “What? I never actually wielded her in my quest, but from what y'all told me, she wasn’t always the best.”

“She has her master’s best interests at heart,” Sky defended her but his voice shook.

Legend shrugged, “The smith has a point.”

“Our best interest,” Time hummed as he looked outside, “I do suppose you could look at it like that.”

“You should still apologise to Wild.”

“What a jump in conversation.”

“I’m just sayin,” Legend glared, “That this whole sword thing doesn’t actually matter while Wild is gone!”

Warriors rolled his eyes and sighed, “And what do you suggest that we do?”

“Anything but sit here!”

The Hero of the Wilds had been gone for at least twelve hours now. Those were spent arguing, sleeping, breakfast and arguing again. Plenty of plans had been made and discarded just as quickly.

First, they had devised a plan that would make them split up into four groups, they would divide the lands into four parts and go search for their missing hero. They had concocted the idea in the first moments of panic after Wild didn’t immediately return. So, they packed their bags, split up the teams and asked for a map of the innkeeper.

Ollie, an old and sleepy man, fished up a rather dusty map from some random basket underneath his counter, “Ar’nt y'all travelin with the twerp?”

“We should be, but he ran off,” Legend huffed, “So we’re searching for him.”

“Is that why ya kiddos want a map?” Ollie raised an eyebrow, “Ye do realise he could be up in the sky or down into hell, do ya?”

Legend looked the man square in the eyes, “Excuse the fuck me?”

“What my companion here meant to ask is,” Warriors shoved the veteran to the side, and put on his most polite smile, “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Keep cursin and you lot can sleep on the outside tonight,” Ollie yawned as they apologised, “The twerp’s the only one tha’s able to go the sky islands and the depths. So yer search’s a lost cause.”

Well Fuck.

So, that plan got scrapped.

“What the fuck is a ‘depth’?”

“Hell?”

“Never mind that, what do we do now?”

“Back to Hateno?” Four suggested, “Ask Zelda for help?”

Twilight visibly shuddered, “She’ll execute me, I lost ‘er pup!” He shook Four’s shoulder, “Ye want me dead?!”

“So, that’s a no.”

Early in the morning, after they had a fretful sleep, they realised that Twilight could literally change into a walking tracker and smell out Wild. They were heroes of courage, not wisdom.

Yet, when they hid away from the villagers in the surrounding forest and let Wolfie out, they were stumped. The wolf, not entirely Twilight anymore, more animal than Hylian but not a carnivore in its entirety, stretched. He sniffled the air for a long while. Twilight, back when he had a mouth, had explained how all Hyrule’s smelled and felt similar but very different. They were the same dish but with different spices and herbs, he had said.

The same magic but aged and battered, forever changing and never the same. That was how Hyrule thought about it, how it felt. He wouldn’t describe it with a dish, no, he’s not as food motivated like that. Not when it’s about magic. 

Magic was inate to the very land itself, it slept in the ground, it got his life force from the living on those same grounds. It was as strong as healthy the world was. His own magic was slow and heavy, having endured generations of sickness and death. Yet, it lived on.

This world’s magic, Wild’s magic, had the same qualities as his own. Survival. They were in different stages, they had to recover from something very different. But the core of it was so similar that Hyurle found it easier to access it than most other lands.

Wolfie looked around confused but not for the usual reason. Hyrule could see it in his eyes.

Normally, the wolf was disoriented because of the shift of magic. Of the feeling of the lands, as he said it. Twilight had never shifted between their realities as Wolfie, he had always been Hylian. But it didn’t feel the same, the taste of the world was muted. So when he shifted, it was overwhelming and disorienting. So it was normal for him to act confused after shifting. But now, he stood still, nose in the air and eyes wide. 

“Wolfie,” Time carefully approached him, “Find Wild for us.”

The animal looked at their leader with understanding eyes but hesitated nonetheless, lightly trampling in place. Then, a wind picked up, ruffling his fur and his nose shot into the air, ears peaked. He sniffled and ran towards the village, stopping at the end of the hill. 

“He’s back in Kakariko?” Wind asked doubtful.

But the wolf shook his head and looked up as far as he could, gaze focused on the singular floating island above them.

“Great,” Legend said with a deadpan expression.

“So close, yet so far,” Sky murmured.

Warriors hummed, “Can we get up there?”

“Can you fly?”

“No.”

“Then, no.”

Wolfie’s ears suddenly dropped, the animal slanted his head and looked puzzled at the island. He shifted, dark smoke gathering around his body. Twilight quickly stood in the wolf’s place, “He’s gone.”

“The fuck?”

“Language,” Warriors sighed, “But, he was up there and now he’s not?”

“Yea.”

Legend shrugged, “He teleported, it’s a small miracle he was so close by anyway.”

“Can you follow him?”

“Nah,” Twilight shook his head sadly, his ears dropping similar to Wolfie, “Smell’s gone.”

 Sky sighed, “We should go to his Zelda.”

Before Twilight could protest Wind raised his hand in the air, confused, “Why aren't we asking Impa?”

Again, heroes of courage, not wisdom, the lot of them.

--

“You have returned,” Impa gazed at Legend with all knowing eyes, “And yet, I do not see our hero among you.”

Legend sighed, “Yeah, he left some time ago.”

Wind pouted, “We don’t know where he went! He could be anywhere!”

“Can you give us any information on where he went?” Time asked politely.

“Did ‘e go home?” Hyrule considered, “Where’s that? Do we’r know?”

Impa looked fondly at Hyrule and then considered their leader closely, her eyes turning cold, “I do not know the whereabouts of our hero,” Her lips curled up so very lightly, “He has a place with all families of this kingdom. All houses, all burrows you will find are his home. He may not realise it, nor will he easily accept it, but the people and the very land itself welcomes and loves him. They honour his very life, they respect his every decision,” She looked pointedly at Time and Hyrule wondered what she knew and how she would’ve known.

“That may be,” Time sighed, “But time is of essence. Any grievances Wild has shall be thoroughly discussed and resolved.”

“Wild you call him,” Impa blinked slowly, “But you do not know why he was named such. Yet you have spoken carelessly and harshly. Yet, you stand before me to ask me to do what?”

The name had intrigued Hyrule before, not only the nature of it but why Zelda reacted to it like that. She had been distraught, angry. Her magic, serene but powerful, had flared, reacting or perhaps, with her emotions. 

Hyrule had thought that Wild was called that because of the abundance of nature, even when they had only seen Hateno, he had felt it. The lushness of it all, the plentiness of wildlife, the very life itself. Hurt but living on, almost thriving on the scars.

And yet, Zelda’s reaction spoke of something more.

Twilight looked pale, “We need yer help to find 'im,” He looked down, guiltily.

“Link,” She closed her eyes, “Is our saviour. He is the one who sacrificed all he had for us, and still fought on. And yet, you ask me to guide you to him,” Impa opened her eyes, glaring and fierce, “While he has left on his own?”

Sky stepped forward and kneeled, laying the master sword in between him and Impa, “Please, elder,” He respectively bowed his head, “We did not mean any harm.”

“We? I did fuck all!” Legend scoffed.

“But,” Sky ignored Legend, “Wild has been hurt by what has been said. We only want to make it right.”

The old woman looked down at him, “I will protect Link as he has protected us.”

“Please,” Time sank on his knees beside Sky, “He won’t accept our help.”

But Impa tutted, her face impassive but eyes sharp, “You say that with confidence and yet,” She gestured towards Legend who was already looking smug, “Link accepted the Hero of Legend’s help. So, ask yourself, Hero of Time. Why did he not accept yours? Why would he feel the need to leave now when he showed you the willingness to cooperate before?”

Time looked down, ashamed, “I considered what was best for the group. But it seems, I have failed.”

“We could’ve set up camp,” Legend snarled, “We’re not prissies that need a bed every night.”

Twilight laid a hand on Legend’s shoulder, “The old man’s not sayin tha, we just didn wan’ Wild to fight ‘lone.”

“And in doing so you, you took away every urgency to help his people!” 

“Our Link,” Impa demanded silence with just her voice, “Our hero, has known nothing except fighting as long as he can remember. Do not expect of him to lay down his sword.”

Twilight objected, “That’s not wha happened!”

But the elder seemed unfazed, “Do not expect of him to pace himself. Not in his own world. Not when his people are in constant danger,” She let the words sink in, “This group,” Impa gestured towards all of them, “Is, indeed, important. Sacred, you could say. And safety should be sought after. We wish for nothing more than for Link to be safe. But when duty summons him, Link will always respond. His own safety is only second to the lives of those he loves.”

“And what if he loves everyone?” Warriors asked pointedly, “What then?”

Impa gaze softened, “Pure of soul, he is. That was apparent even after just one sun cycle into his life. His heart is big and strong. Do not fret about it as he is the one that has always had that love,” She looked at them all one by one, gazing in their eyes, “Be kind to nature and it will reward you. Try to tame it and you will lose it.”

--

They stood outside, just at the end of the stairs leading up to the large house, silence enveloped them as the cold washed over them. Night was falling quickly, although it wasn’t that late yet. Still, Sheikah left for their homes, lights were lit and the nighttime critters came out with their songs.

It was lovely, peaceful.

“So,” Warriors interrupted the comfortable ambiance of the village, “That did not help at all.”

Legend scoffed, “Be kind to nature and it will reward you?” He mocked, “Bullshit! If I ignore it a wolf will try to kill me!”

“Hey!”

“Not you, Twilight.”

Four sighed, massaging their temple, “She was talking about Wild, dipshits.”

“So his name is about nature, then?” Wind asked.

Legend ignored the teen and crossed his arms, glaring at no on in particular, “We still don’t know where the fuck he is.”

“It's getting late,” Time stated the obvious, “Let's just retire and figure out what to do tomorrow.”

But Sky frowned, “The portal's gonna show up soon,” He fidgeted with his cape, “So I don’t think we have the time to wait and see.”

Time laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, “The Goddess won't let us leave without him.”

“What if’th Lady thinks of ‘im not ready?” Twilight considered, his ears low in distress, “No one ‘ere seems to ‘appy ‘bout ‘im leavin.”

“If She thought that,” Sky thought for a second, “Then we wouldn't have dropped us here,” He concluded.

“She doesn't consider our well-being like that,” Legend rolled his eyes, “Why pretend she does.”

The Chosen hero looked at the veteran with sadness in his eyes, “Legend, I know you don't think highly of Hylia. But She does consider us.”

Legend gazed at Sky with hard eyes, “If she did, none of us would’ve went on quests.”

“The people-”

“Can protect themselves,” Legend interrupted, “And she should’ve had to defeat demise and ganondorf. Or whoever started this fucked up cycle.”

Sky looked stricken, his hands clenched the master sword, “I was the one that-”

“Sky, shut the fuck up,” Again, the chosen hero was cut off, “Yer a mortal and she’s some kind of goddess that’s apparently too weak to do anythin’ herself. Don’t blame yourself and don’t fucking defend her,” With that Legend waved them off and stomped towards the inn leaving the rest of the chain behind. 

None of them knew that they were not alone. That not so far from them was a lonely statue in the midst of serene waters, fireflies dancing on the subtle ripples and shining light on the one that held them so dear. Silently listening to the pains of Her most beloved creations, not able to call to them as She could with Her wildest child, the one that was closest to nature itself. The one that had visited Her for just a moment before cruel and unnatural magic ripped him away from Her. 

With remorse She saw them spare Her no mind as they walked towards the inn. One missing from their midst. Her child that felt so alone even if he was one with the very land itself. Scars fresh and raw, not only from his most recent battle but from a century ago. Never did they properly heal, never did he feel understood, truly connected to.

Her scared little fox, still chained to his life Before with only thin threads that he did not dare to touch. Unworthy, he felt.

She smiled softly, filled with relief, knowing that Her most beloved children were eating properly in the inn not so far from Her. And knowing Her most precious one walked down the wooden bridge, his eyes slightly red from tears spilled but content on his smiling lips.

“Hylia,” His voice was rough from the scars, the damage, his fear to say something wrong. Selectively mute he was, and fondness filled Her at the reminder how much this little one cared about every living being around him. How important he thought it to be to be the best for his lands. So much so, it impacted his every movement and every word.

“Link,” She caressed him with divine energy, Her heart ached to hold him close, “My Child of Nature,” He inhaled a harsh breath, “The baggage on your shoulders is heavy but true. And yet it does not have to be that way. Share your heart and rejoice that you are alive.”

Her child closed his eyes, “I’m not worthy,” He leaned into the divine energy, seeking comfort and something already so fragile broke inside Her.

“My Hero of the Wilds,” She ruffled his hair, a giggle escaping Her when his nose scrunched, “You are loved. By your people, by nature itself. You belong and you are worthy. My dearest child, you were brought back with the magic of the very lands itself, you are one with the very fibre of existence.”

Slowly he opened his eyes, gazing at the sky above as he knew where She would be, not the statue itself. No, She was in the stars and somehow, he had always known that.

“My Child of Nature,” With a final push of adoration in Her divinity She started fading, Her strength not up to par to stay in the realm for long, “Remember, even in times of peril. How dearly I love you, my little one.”

She left him with no regret even if tears streamed down his face, because just at the end of the bridge they stood. The ones that would help Her little fox heal from wounds centuries old. Mend the fractures in his soul, so very ancient and damaged as it was put through many hardships throughout the ages.

But they would be able to help, to balm his pains as they were largely made of the same materials. The same soul, the same suffering.

She threw them Her love, even if She knew that only Her Wild one would fully sense it as he was the one made from the very matter She was made from. 

Her children, so dear to Her heart, the ones she yearned to protect.

And yet, hylia could not.

For truly, she was the one who had failed the very beings she created. she was the one too weak for the world that was born from her love. Too fragile and faded to protect the ones she had made from her very being.

Chapter Text

“And then the largest whale ya'd ever seen JUMPED from tha water! Almost takin’ us with it!” Wind stood on his chair, his arms all over the place as he mimicked the waves hitting their ship, “Tetra was ‘bout to hunt the beast down, when suddenly-!”

Silence washed over him, as it did over the entire inn. A wave of familiar warmth engulfed the entirety of the building, cradling the Hylian’s in it. Sky recognized it, he adored it. Hylia’s blessing, her special brand of love, overwhelming but just right. For Sky it was home, it reminded him of the era he loved most. His place in the universe, with the people he adored. With his Zelda, his Sun, the one he so very dearly endeared.

It was an energy that had been with him as far as he could remember, but to his demise, it was barely there in the other eras. Only when they were in temples or when the portals showed up he felt it. And most of his soul brothers didn’t notice the warmth of it. Nor did the people who did not have close connections to the Goddess.

And yet, the inn was silent. His soul brothers, Ollie, and the other visitors sat in the calm. His soul sharers in alarm, the citizens with content.

“Divinity,” Twilight rolled his shoulders as he took in the magic. He was one of Sky’s brothers that did usually sense the Goddess, “It’s strong.”

“Is this what makes y'all sense the portals?” Wind asked.

Time slightly shook his head, “It’s too strong. Portals are subtle.”

Sky disagreed, for him Portals were loud and attention grabbing. They sang to his very soul, they pulled his mortal body close. They were Hylia and Hylia blessed him. How could he ever feel like She was subtle when She was everywhere and everything?

“This’s no portal,” Legend narrowed his eyes, his body was tense, “I’ve never felt anythin’ like this.”

Hyrule fidgeted with his hands, “Not ‘ven tha Great Fairies’ have magic this strong.”

Guilt and despair filled Sky as it did so often when he heard about the eras of his brothers. Desolated, abandoned and barren, that were their lands. Hylia wasn’t there for them as She had been for him. They had no Goddess to support them, no Sun and no Fi. Only a sword, perhaps a companion, perhaps some instructions. 

“What’re ye kids yappin’ ‘bout?” Ollie lulled from behind his counter, “It’s just the brat prayin’ to the Goddess statue.”

Wild.

Not one word had to be said, not one order had to be made for all of them to spring upright from their seats to dash towards the door. Sky had the lead as he was the one closest to the door and as he was the one who felt Her the best. And oh, how he had missed Her. As soon as he had stepped outside he stumbled into the most overwhelming divinity he had felt in a very long time.

When his journey had ended and Sun and he had started to build up the kingdom they would name Hyrule, She had fallen into slumber. Still very present even when she wasn’t consciously watching over them. Only in the temple did he feel her eyes on him. 

And yet, this, the intense feeling of Too Much was entirely a distant memory to him. It was flowers that sprung up in the fresh grass of spring. A young nest of rabbit young opening their eyes for the first time. An old owl saying goodbye to her last young, of her very last offspring.

It was birth and death.

Love and hate.

A prickling sense in his blood as he was taken in by a force that was above them all. A being that was made of the very universe and what made even that.

Too much, too little.

Hylia in all her glory.

Sky’s breath stuttered as he saw Her and saw Him. Standing not so far away from him, just separated by a small wooden bridge and yet They were so far beyond them. Standing, surrounded by water and fireflies. Stars and moonlight shining brighter than he had ever seen, the ethereal of it focused on Them. 

His soul brother, the one who had been missing. The one that he felt mournful for, even if he did not know why yet. Kneeled before a small statue of his Goddess, his gaze not forwarded to it but instead, to the sky. And there, floating, was She. Not in Hylian form, not even recognisable and yet, it was Her. Glowing gold and bright. 

Unreal.

“What the fuck.”

Sky didn’t like to agree with Legend when it was about their Goddess. But for now, he had to agree.

Wild said something to Her, and the brilliant divinity wavered before brightening again. It came closer to the young man, engulfing him even further. Swaying in the non-existent wind it faltered. And a realisation hit Sky.

He was not sure how to feel about it. He was delighted, disappointed, proud, jealous.

“She’s talking to him,” Sky’s voice was small. 

Sun was the one who was connected to Hylia, she was the very incarnation of the Goddess. If the Goddess wanted to talk to him, it was through his beloved Zelda. Never had She embraced him with Her energy as She did with Wild. Never was She that close to him.

In all other eras, Hylia’s presence was slight, sometimes not existing at all. Sky had disliked it, as he missed Her. Yet, it had always caressed some prideful part of him. Some part of him worshipped Hylia to the extent that Her doting on him proved something. Her constant presence in his life meant She cared, that he was special. Sky was the one who defeated Her enemy, he was the one who started the cycle. The first Link. The Chosen Hero.

And yet.

Hylia’s light wavered before it started dissipating towards the stars above them. Leaving Wild on the ground, alone and shaking. A final last wave of divinity washed over them before the very world itself darkened as she had left them.

All was silent except silent sobs.

All was silent but hurried footsteps over a wooden bridge as one of his soul brothers hurried towards the one that was loved most by Her.

All was silent for Sky as doubt crept up his spine, accompanied by a hurt he had never foreseen happening to him.

A hand laid on his shoulder but it did little for the cloud that fogged up his very being. It did little for him as he took a step and another one to his soul brother. A reincarnation of him. And yet, more loved.

“You can speak with the Goddess?” He heard himself ask through cotton ears.

Wild looked up at him, tears still streaming from his sky-blue eyes, “Can’t everyone?” He asked, voice thick with emotion.

Next to him, Twilight shook his head, “The Lady’s connected to Zelda.”

“She hasn’t said anythin’ to me, at least,” Legend huffed but despite his harsh tone, he was carefully rubbing Wild’s back.

“You’ve always been able to speak to her?” Time asked.

But Wild shook his head, “Since I woke up,” He signed. Not elaborating when Wind quickly asked what he meant by that and ignored the looks he received from most of them.

“Does she tell ya anythin’? ‘Bout the quest?” Asked Four.

He shook his head again.

“What does She tell you then?” Sky asked, his tone harsh. It made the others look at him in surprise, and he agreed with them. It was unlike him. It was unfair of him.

Wild, though, did not look at him with surprise. He knew too little of Sky to realise this was unlike the Chosen Hero. Instead, the boy looked down, fidgeting with his scarred hand. “She-” He tried but his voice faltered and ceased to be. 

“Have ya eaten’?” Twilight asked gently while narrowing his eyes at Sky over Wild’s head, “The inn’s gotten good food.”

The tension in Wild’s shoulders melted just a bit, “I’ve eaten with Riju,” He mustered up the slightest smile before getting up. His cape swayed with the movement and his metallic arm glinted in the light of the moon.

“Riju?” Wind quickly started walking next to the hero as he started walking towards the inn.

“A friend,” He smiled, “The chief of the Gerudo.”

Warriors whistled, “Friends with royalty, are you?”

Wild pouted but didn’t protest the claim.

“Damn, didn’t take ya as a bootlicker,” Legend smirked, “No wonder ya got those weird clothes and ghosts.”

Wild stopped walking, when he turned to the veteran he was as white as a sheet, “Ghosts?” He signed courtly.

“Yea?” Legend raised an eyebrow, “Those weird blue ghosts?”

“Oh, them,” Wild relaxed, “They’re sages,” He tapped the ring on his ring finger, summoning a blue light that sporadically moved before a woman appeared.

Wind squealed in delight, “THAT WAS SO COOL!”

Wild ruffled Wind’s hair with a smile on his face, “Meet Riju’s sage form,” He gestured towards the blue lady, “The sage of lighting, chief of Gerudo.”

Legend grinned, “Told y'all he has weird ghosts.”

At the mention of ghosts, Wild tensed again, “Sages.”

“Whatever,” Legend waved it away, “Who are the others?”

“Others?” Wind grinned with excitement.

“Yunobo,” Wild summoned a Goron, “The sage of fire and the owner of YunoboCo,” Then he summoned a Rito, “Tulin, sage of wind. Son of the Rito chief,” Then a large Zora was summoned, “Sidon, sage of water and the king of the Zora,” He then took some distance from them all and summoned a large… something. Sky did not have the words for it. Large and from metal, with arms and legs, “And this is the construct where the soul of the sage of Spirit used to reside.”

“Used to?”

“She finally passed on.”

“Ye always talk like a monk,” Four muttered, “Why’s that?”

Wild slanted his head and observed the smith, “Intrigue?” He ignored the laughter of his peers as he pressed all of the rings and every sage disappeared into the same blue light. 

“How did ye get the ghosts?” Hyrule asked.

“Second quest,” He signed, helpfully, before sliding open the door to the inn.

“Link!” Ollie greeted him enthusiastically, “Ya got any truffles for me?”

“What the fuck is a truffle?” Legend whisper-asked.

But no one could answer and the ones who could, Wild and Ollie, were already huddled over said truffles.

The innkeeper whistled, “Where do ya always get such big ones?”

“Sturnida Springs Cave,” Wild answered, “Plenty of mushrooms too.”

“Where’s that? Hebra?” When Ollie got a nod in response, he sighed, “My joint’s too old for the colds of Hebra.”

“We’re gettin’ ignored again,” Wind pouted somewhere next to Sky.

“Any updates on trade?” 

Wild sighed, “They found new caves with both mushrooms and fish. Routes should start again coming autumn. Depending on weather.”

Ollie nodded, “And the Gerudo? We’re low on watermelons.”

“Negative. I did pick up all they had for you,” He took his Purah pad and in a string of blue dozens of green balls appeared on the counter.

The old man looked from Wild to the balls to Wild again, “Thank you,” He took a basket and started filling it with watermelons.

“The fuck are watermelons and truffles?” Legend asked when Wild joined them at the beds.

He shrugged, “Fruit.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Thanks.”

Suddenly, Wild tensed, his eyes trained on the door to the outside. Before anyone could ask what was wrong, Sky understood, “A portal.”

The more sensitive Chain members nodded after a moment of trying to sense it.

“We’re going, then?” Wild looked saddened.

Twilight laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, “You’ll come back.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Wild waved his concern away, “I’ve said my goodbyes. I’m ready to leave.”

Chapter Text

“Oh, don’t worry,” Wild waved his concern away, “I’ve said my goodbye’s. I’m ready to leave.”

Well, Twilight thought, that should be reassuring but something about the steadiness in Wild’s eyes made him doubt it. When they found Wind, it was at his own home, all his loved ones surrounding him. Even Tetra was there when they left and yet, even when Wind was able to say goodbye to them all, doubt and fear still filled his eyes. He had held onto his grandma and sister for dear life and saluted his captain. And when they stepped through the portal, he hid his tears from them.

He didn’t expect Wild to cry, not in front of them at least. But earlier, when they talked about leaving, Wild looked stricken. That was gone now. Confidence extruded him, or was it acceptance?

“Gather up your supplies and team up,” Time slung a bag over his shoulder, “Wild,” The blond in question tensed up visibly, “For safety, we go through the portals in pairs. Join whomever you trust most,” Their leader figure spared just a glance to Wild before continuing his own cleanup.

It left their newest member lost and unsure. To pick someone he trusts most is to consider his every interaction with each of them. It was to admit who he liked most, who he thought was less trustworthy. And although Twilight would understand completely if he wasn’t chosen. If Wild didn’t feel a connection to him just yet. He was a hero, and he had been trusted with the destiny of the world itself before. Any insinuation that he wasn’t trustworthy enough to go through a portal with a soul sharer, well, that would be hurtful to his ego. And considering some of the others had bigger and more fragile egos than him, this wouldn’t go well with most of them.

Time knew that though, his pride was plenty too. So to ask something so very specific to Wild was a curious decision. One that Twilight didn’t really understand and wouldn’t have chosen himself. Because if they knew what trust meant because they were heroes, then Wild did too.

Knowing that he would have to talk with Time but that it wasn’t the moment for that, he chose to help to ease the decision, “Wild,” He smiled down gently at the pup, “P’rtal sickn’ss has little take on me.”

“Me neither!” Wind excitedly quipped, “Let’s band t’gether!”

Wild looked at them strangely, his gaze switching from them to the others, “Portal sickness?” He asked instead of confirming that he would portal jump with Wind and him.

Somewhere in the back of the inn Four groaned next to their clothes, “The portals are a real fucking nuisance,” They cursed under their breath, “Foreign magic and shit.”

“Language, Four,” Warriors sighed, losing his forever battle with the foul words, “Portals mess with our inate magic,” He explained to Wild, “Resulting in nausea, dizziness, fainting spells or regurgitation.”

Legend’s head shot up from his bag, “Regurgitation?!” He almost yelled while throwing a wooden spoon at the captain’s head, “Just say puke like a normal fucking Hylian!”

“Well excuse me,” Warriors threw the spoon right back, “I didn’t know your IQ was so low that I have to dumb down  my words!”

“FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT,” Wind threw his own random utensil in the mix.

Pushing the chaos to the background, Twilight looked down at Wild who was looking very fucking overwhelmed by the entire situation. Eyes wide, brows furrowed, mouth slightly open in shock. Very much puppy behaviour.

“Don’t mind the lads,” He nudged Wild with his elbow, “They’re a rowdy bunch.”

His icy blue eyes shifted towards Twilight, “They’re always like this?”

“Frazzling, isn't it?”

“WHO THE FUCK SAYS FRAZZLING?!” Legend screamed somewhere in the mayhem.

Wild’s brows furrowed even more but didn’t comment on anything. Rather than actually communicating (after Twilight was doing his very best to put him at ease, thank you very much) he simply shrugged and went to the counter of the inn where Ollie was simply observing the absolute anarchy in his inn with sleepy eyes. In a string of blue lights, a letter appeared in Wild’s hand, he handed it off with a soft smile and made his way back to Twilight.

“Team?” He asked with his head slanted just the tiniest bit.

And without even trying, a large smile bloomed on Twilight’s face, “Team,” He agreed.

After Time and Sky managed to calm down the riot, processions towards the jump went smoothly. Even if the definition of smooth was wholly different for them in comparison to the general Hylian. No one killing someone or something was considered normal for most. For this particular group of ragtag heroes, that was very smooth. Calmly collecting your belongings and not losing any of them was very desirable and optimal for normal journeys. For them, it was a small miracle if everyone knew where their respective weapons were. So, for them to leave the inn without someone betting their whole life savings and everyone alive, was incredibly smooth.

As soon as they left the inn, it struck Twilight how many people were gathered in the town’s centre. Both old and young were present. Standing in a half circle they surrounded the little wooden bridge leading towards The Lady’s statue where they found Wild not long ago. Through the gaps between the crowd, it became clear just why, there, instead of the statue was the portal. 

Wild paused as he left the inn, his eyes widened the exact moment he saw all the Sheikah observing the portal in wonder and apprehension. He passed by Twilight and Time, quickly descending the stairs towards the large gathering. Touching someone’s shoulder he got absorbed into the crowd.

“Did any of y’all connect to like literally everyone like that? In your Hyrules?” Legend asked.

Warriors frowned, “I have never gotten the opportunity or time.”

Four huffed, “They’d rather see me gone.”

“I do,” Wind smiled, “But Outset Island is small.”

“Why do you ask?” Sky asked instead of answering.

The veteran paused, his gaze trained on Wild, “No reason.” 

Well, that was a fucking lie. But Twilight knew he wasn’t the person to get secrets out of Legend before he wanted to stop being mysterious and brooding. Hyrule could do it, Wind to if he played his cards right. Perhaps Wild would be able to do it too, they share the mysterious and brooding aesthetics after all.

The crowd of people suddenly broke up, creating a pathway to the portal, Wild already at the end of it, staring at them. His ocean blue eyes piercing even from so far away, long blond hair swayed in the wind. It was not the first time Twilight thought of an ethereal being when he gazed upon Wild. Something about him wasn’t entirely Hylian. Just like Hyrule didn’t seem like a full Hylian until after a few months he revealed by accident he was in fact part Fairy. It had been a moment of clarity, so many things explained. So many doubts cleared. But now, looking at Wild, the same primal part that recognised the difference in Hyrule spotted something in Wild.

Walking towards a portal hadn’t been so nerve-wracking for him in such a long time. Every time a new hero joined them the next portal became an unknown variable as every one of them reacted differently to it. But never have they been sent off by an entire village. Never had they been so openly resented because they were taking away their hero. Children had tears in their eyes, adults looked at them with a mix of sadness and accusation. 

And at the front, with Wild, stood Impa and her granddaughter. Both of them had soft edges to them, kindness in their every move but regality in their posture. The elder Impa and chief Paya of Kakariko, both clearly very fond of Wild. Both so obviously distraught at his departure. 

“Heroes of the old,” Paya greeted them respectfully, “Please take care of Link. We hold him dear and would be devastated in case something happened,” She had tears in her eyes but kept up her polite smile.

Time nodded at her, “Of course. We watch out for each other.”

Her smile hardened but still, she nodded gratefully. Next to her, her grandma didn’t offer the same courtesy, her eyes hard and no smile to be seen. 

“Link,” Impa turned towards Wild with remorse, “May you remain safe and return to us shortly.”

At the request of the elder Wild shifted into a tense stand, bringing his right hand, tightly clenched into a fist to the left side of his chest. A salute of sorts, not one Twilight knew but the Sheikah did. Recognizing the plight of her hero, Impa repeated the salute but instead of a fist she carefully laid her open hand on her heart. Behind her, in a wave, all of the Sheikah that were waving Wild off swiftly took the same stance.

Even when Wild let his salute fall and when he took Twilight and Wind by the arm, ready to step through the portal as the last three of their nine-strong group, they kept standing there resolutely. It spoke of such strong respect towards Wild, a kind of love that few of them got from the general public after their quests. Looking behind him just before stepping into the circle of divine energy, Twilight understood why Legend looked at Wild like that before.

--

Going through the portal felt like missing a step on stairs. You expect ground but instead, you fall into nothingness. It wasn’t difficult or painful but it was rather nerve-wracking to knowingly step into nothingness. Landing was another story, not only was it substantially more difficult but it was also unpredictable. Stepping into the portal you knew you were going to fall. Stepping out meant you could step out on grass, perfectly aligned with your feet. That was the perfect portal but also the most infrequent one. 

In reality, they more often than not end up falling or stumbling out of the portals. Sometimes on sand, other times in water, very often a few fence posts high in the sky. It was a gamble and it resulted in sprained ankles almost every time. 

The worst portals though, were the ones where they got dropped into a monster camp. Those didn’t end up pretty.

And this portal, although special because it was the first one since they got another hero in their group, was like any other portal. A bit disorienting because it was a dark and endless void before they got dropped off. Nauseating because the magic was so unlike his own. A very ordinary portal.

As suddenly as the darkness showed up, light started to seep through, the ground was abruptly beneath his feet. In an instant the smell of this Hyrule assaulted his nose, it was earthy and ashy. It’s magic didn’t try to overwhelm him, instead, it stayed away. Unusual for the very inate magic of the lands itself, normally it should react to the new presences that invaded its boundaries. It should feel out who they were and accept them just as quickly when the very nature of their souls was recognised. And yet, none of that happened.

Next to him, Wild stumbled out of the portal, his grip on Twilight’s arm tight and his face an unnatural shade of pale. Twilight supported him as best as he could, but the jump through made even the least affected of them unsteady on their feet. Though they didn’t fall in one big heap of useless hero limbs, due to Wind on the other side of Wild supporting him alongside Twilight. But their newbie did seem a bit weak in the knees.

“At least he’s not puking,” Legend tried to act tough but he was leaning against a tree, face as pale as Wild’s.

“Regurgitating,” Warriors mumbled from his tree where he sat to recoup. 

“Fuck you.”

Wind, always the one to recover quickest, laughed brightly, “Ya good, mate?” 

“Just dandy,” Wild answered, voice rough and quiet but dripping heavily with sarcasm.

The sailor brushed away Wild’s bangs and observed him, “Yer colour’s coming back to the cheeks already,” Wind looked up with a grin, “He’ll be just fine.”

Hyrule, their local healer, looked up from Four’s unconscious body. He considered Wild from afar and nodded satisfied, “Ya’r dealing well.”

“Does anyone recognize this era?” Time asked.

Twilight breathed in deeply, he had already found the smell familiar the moment he went through the portal but it was difficult to differentiate so quickly. After all, Hyrule and its magic were basically the same. Its flavour and spices changed over time. Even the land itself changed, whole mountains were located differently over the eras. But inate magic would never switch to an unrecognisable other kind.

The magic they were surrounded with was weak and hidden. While some other eras were so abundant with magic that it willingly reached out to them to either attack the foreign entities or to welcome the new life it could nurture. This era did not do anythin’ like that. It stayed under the earth, far away from them. It was a magic Twilight had felt before, it was one that made the most magic sensitive lot of them sick if they stayed for too long.

“Well,” Hyrule sighed, “This’s mine.”

Immediately tension grew. Hyrule’s, well, Hyrule, wasn’t a kind place. Food was difficult to find, enemies were around every tree stump and the inhabitants were reclusive. It was a place where they weren't allowed to rest comfortably or joke around too much. No one really liked this particular era, not even Hyrule himself ever looked stoked when they stranded there.

“Are we safe here?” Warriors’ hand was already on the hilt of his sword, his gaze travelling over their surroundings.

Hyrule looked around as well, his brows furrowed, “For now.”

“How ominous,” Legend said, more at ease than most of them. 

Wild, already standing up on himself, looked around with wide eyes, his ears twitching towards every sound he heard. 

Hyrule looked sadly at him, “Yea, sorry ‘bout this,” He vaguely gestured to everything, “Mine’s real sad.”

Wind frowned, “Ye don’t have to apologise for this.”

But the traveller shook his head, “Only mine’s gotten unsound like this.”

“Oh stop that,” Legend kicked away a rock, “If anyone is responsible for this it’s Ganon or whoever.”

“But-”

“No,” Legend interrupted him, “I’m not hearin’ anythin’ about it!”

Hyrule looked dejected and Twilight was about to change the subject when Wild crouched down, laying a hand on the dirt and patches of grass. His brows furrowed and a little pout on his face, he looked quite serious, “Dry spells?” He asked Hyrule after he upheaved some of the earth.

“Uh,” He looked surprised, “Yea. Rain’s sparse.”

Wild nodded, “When my first quests started and ended nature took a big hit. Something about the spike in malevolence,” He stood up and clapped the dirt of his hands, “It took about three sun cycles to stabilise. How long ago has it been for you?”

Hyrule just stared at Wild for a few solid seconds before he realised he should probably react, “Two cycles,” He sounded more like he was guessing than answering.

“That checks out,” Wild went to a tree and broke off a low-hanging branch and inspected it, “There’s resistance and sap. A good sign of health. The other trees and bushes seem in the same condition,” He didn’t exactly smile at Hyrule, but his eyes were kind, “The lands will heal and wildlife will follow swiftly.”

“Oh,” Hyrule was stunned, his eyes wide and slightly watering, “Thank Hylia.”

Wind skipped over towards Wild and took the branch he had broken off, staring at it with curious eyes, “Are you like a boltonist?”

“Botanist,” Warriors corrected.

“Right. Botanist,” Wind tried again.

Wild shook his head, “Just surrounded by scientists.”

“You get scientists and I get some fucking fucker in a rabbit mask,” Legend grumbled, “Hylia and her goddamn favouritism.”

“Aren’t you courting said ‘fucker in a rabbit mask’?” Warriors raised an eyebrow.

“And?” Legend narrowed his eyes, “I’m sure Wild Spice over here is also ‘courting’ one of his ‘scientists’ or his goddamn Zelda. None of us are creative with partners.”

“Zelda is one of those scientists,” Wild signed, “And no, I’m not courting her.”

Legend pursed his lips, “Don’t ya discredit my theory. You are romancing someone obvious, aren't you?”

“We’re not going to pressure anyone for any information,” Time crossed his arms, disappointment on his face.

“You’re already married, which means that your romance is boring” Warriors waved away Time’s comment, “Now Wild, who were you dating again?”

“No one.”

Wind looked shocked, “Even I’ve dated before! And I’m like sixteen!”

Wild looked at the boy with the most deadpan stare Twilight had seen in ages, “I’ve dated before,” His movements were short and cold.

“And?” Wind saw his opportunity and struck, fishing for stories, “What dramatics went down?”

“She died.”

The silence was deafening.

“And my other lover got in an arranged marriage while I was gone for a few months. And then married during my second quest. I was asked to attend as his best friend and saviour, or whatever,” Wild shrugged.

“Holy fucking hell.”

“That’s bonkers, mate,” Wind almost whispered, “Sorry I asked.”

“Did you attend though?” Warriors asked.

“Well, yeah,” Wild sighed, “It was also his coronation, and because Zelda was missing I became the representative of the Hylian monarchy.”

“Coronation?!” Wind gasped, “The dramatics are dramaticing even more!”

“Is that even a real word?”

Legend ignored Wind and Warriors, and very seriously went up to Wild, putting his hands on his shoulders, “Please tell me, you made a scene?”

Wild looked mildly terrified, “No,” He signed awkwardly because Legend was restricting his movements.

“Oh Wild Spice,” The veteran shook his head, “You gotta live up to the name! You gotta go big!”

“I was quite preoccupied with my second quest,” Wild raised an eyebrow, “Not much time for scandals.”

“There’s always time for scandal!”

To Legend’s despair the conversation got halted when Four groaned as they finally woke up, Hyrule immediately went to support them, “Easy there,” He fished up a flask of water from his bag, “Yer good?”

“I hate portals.”

“Four, ye gotta hear this shit,” Legend threw his arms in the air, “This fucker’s boyfriend suddenly married someone else and he went to the wedding and DIDN’T cause a scene!”

“To be fair, they thought I was dead when he got engaged.”

The smith, still very much on the ground, looked at them with disbelief, eyes flashing through colours, “I did not wake up to hear this kinda shit.”

Twilight made a stop motion, “Wild, they thought you’d died? How long?”

“About three moon cycles?”

“He moved on in THREE MOON CYCLES?!”

“Shouldn’t we go find a camping spot?” Sky interrupted the scene.

Time, very gratefully, agreed and got them up and walking. It did not stop the interrogation over Wild’s love life, though. 

“So, ye disappeared f’r three moons and ye get back and he’s engaged?” Four was very clearly judging the man.

“Arranged.”

But Legend scoffed, “He still went through with it after ya returned!”

“He had to, political stability and all,” Wild sighed, “She’s really nice too. Grew up with his sister.”

“You know, one thing about me is,” Legend seriously laid a hand on his heart, “That I hate politics to a very personal level. So I don’t give a flying fuck.”

“You don’t have much to say,” Wild rolled his eyes, “You’re in a relationship with a guy in a rabbit mask. I argue that’s worse.”

Warriors (and many of the others) barked out in laughter, “He’s got a point!”

“I’ll give you a point on the nose!”

Twilight laughed at the shenanigans but left them behind as he caught up with Time, who was walking in the front together with Hyrule and Sky.

“Ya’d thought Wild would’ve kept them quiet with the brooding,” He joked.

Time threw a glance over his shoulder, observing the bunch and sighed, “He is certainly eccentric,” He looked forward again.

Twilight frowned at his mentor. Time normally wasn’t one to openly accept every new hero, he had high walls and low expectations of them. Resulting in difficulty in having confidence in anyone. But never had he been so openly cold and distrustful of their new recruits. 

“Ya don’ like’im?”

The old man sighed deeply, “I don’t don’t like him.”

Well, that was no answer, “What’s it then?”

“Different morals, I suppose.”

--

Hyrule had let them towards a cliff side where a large rock gave them plenty of coverage due to the overhang. It would keep them dry if rain decided to show up and keep them safe from the biting wind that tended to blow here in the nights. 

Quickly they went about their usual camping routine, some went to find wood, others started to lay down the bare bone structure for their campfire and someone had the displeasure of being the cook for the evening. All of those tasks were rotating between the bunch of them, not two evenings after each other would be the same. With Wild joining them, the rotations would change once more, but as tradition, the newest member wasn’t included in the first shift.

Twilight didn’t know if Wild appreciated that or not. Most of them did not, it was difficult to join a group that had pre-existing routines and bonds with each other. To be then asked, above all that, to just still for the evening. Well, it could be described as torture. But Wild simply took in the information and went to look for a good spot to hunker down and there he stayed until every task was finished and dinner was called ready. 

Warriors had been the cook, which meant that the food wouldn’t be inedible but that it would be rather… portioned. A real commander, someone who had spent years on the battlefield, Warriors didn’t really know how to cook normal food. His dishes were mostly stew that could be made of literally anything and were, admitable, very filling and high in proteins. Not tasteful at all. But it did the trick.

“I miss my grandma’s soup,” Wind pouted as he sloshed his stew around, “This is for pigs.”

Warriors sighed but didn’t reprimand the boy, “Although rather bland, it is a very efficient food for soldiers.”

Legend scoffed, “I’m no soldier though.”

Twilight didn’t get why they complained about the food every night over and over again. It never actually improved the taste of it. 

“It could be worse,” Warriors remarked, “At least we have meat.”

“If this is what you eat in the army, I’m never joining,” Said Four.

“Good,” Legend pointed his spoon towards Warriors, twirling it, “Soldiers get treated like shit and the pay ain’t even good.”

“Hey!” Warriors looked offended, “The barracks can be gruelling, but it gives you plenty of comradery!”

Wind looked doubtful, “Hey Wild, you were a knight, right?”

At the very edge of camp, sitting noticeably far away from them, sat Wild. Calmly ate his food with no complaint and not even the slightest hint of disgust for the unsavoury food. His gaze snapped up at the sudden callout from Wind. Hearing the question he slowly nodded. 

“Great,” Legend drawled, “Can ya confirm Warriors is talking shit?”

Wild sighed and let his spoon fall into his bowl of almost finished stew, “I do not like talking about that.”

“About the barracks?” Warriors questioned, “I’ve rarely heard anyone who hated every moment of their training. The companionship with the soldiers training alongside, growing up together, learning together! And when of age, going after the ladies together!” He laughed heartily at the memories.

The stories Warriors told them were fascinating to Twilight. They spoke of immense trust in your fellow Hylian, of growth and happiness. Such love for your country and its people that war doesn’t lessen the joys of being a soldier. Twilight knew that those experiences were probably coloured gold in Warriors' memory and that they would’ve been different if he wasn’t a captain. Someone with immense power in the army. And a Link too. He assumed that for Wild it would’ve been the same. Being the hero chosen by The Lady herself gave you perks in most aspects of life. Most obvious in company of royalty or structure.

And yet, Wild looked at Warriors with eyes that spoke of no recognition. It didn’t look like he got reminded of the good times in the army or the fondness he shared with the soldiers. He looked sad and pained. Wild gazed down at his hand, the left full of scars, the right made of metal, and sighed, “I was not gifted the opportunity of leisure,” He signed.

Why was it that everything this man said was sad? Twilight thought incredulously, not even Legend was this bad in the beginning.

Warriors narrowed his eyes ever so slightly, “Did you have a high position?” 

Wild shrugged, “Depends on what is considered high to you and it does not matter to me.”

Legend tossed his empty bowl to the side, leant back and crossed his arms, “Something about that answer says you were high on the soul-sucking ladder of abusive hierarchies.”

“You have issues,” Four murmured.

“I heard that.”

“Good.”

“Right,” Warriors lightly shook his head, “Although I would gladly discuss Legend and his abundance of problems.”

“Hey!”

“I would rather hear about your position, Wild,” He ignored Legend, “None of these rascals were ever officially soldiers.”

Wild however still didn’t look very keen on having this particular conversation. Swiping on his pad a clothing piece appeared with blue strings on his lap, a cap, “Is this enough for you?” He threw the thing across camp, landing in front of Warriors' feet. Dust flew up and lightly covered the royal blue of it.

The captain’s eyes widened as he quickly brushed the dust off, “It’s different from my era,” He observed it closely, “But that colour says enough. A royal knight, huh? Impressive.”

But Wild scoffed, crossing his arms he looked into the fire. The flames cast shadows that contorted around his scars, seemingly hugging them. His eyes, brightened by the light, were mesmerizingly haunting. “Nothing impressive about it,” He said hoarsely, his gaze never leaving the flickers of the flames. 

Time hummed, “Royal knightdom was most sought after in my era,” He observed Wild closely, “It was an honour few received. And most only did later in life.”

Wild’s gaze snapped from the flame to Time in an instant. Even at night, only lightened by the fire, his eyes were bright and intense. Twilight had seen plenty of expressive eyes in his life before, he had seen entire stories in them. Emotions, good and bad. Eyes that struck him down with the intensity of them. And still, Wild’s ice blue eyes made the others seem bleak in comparison. Large and clear, they were the way that Wild expressed himself, even if he did not know.

“What age did you become a royal knight?” Asked Time.

And something shuddered in those eyes even if Wild’s face kept impassive. An animal that thought they had healed their grievous wounds before but with just one wrong conversation the scars ripped open, revealing the past and its pains.

“Too young,” Wild’s words were clipped, burdened, “Now, if you can excuse me. I’m off to bed.”

Not one to wait for permission, Wild had already stood up, his belongings disappearing into the pad with quick movements. He made his way to his sleep arrangements with haste, rolling himself into a blanket before two blue lights appeared from him. The Gerudo women and Goron appeared out of them, without any instructions they stood guard over his resting body. Their gazes swept over the campsite and its surrounding woods.

Silence filled their camp, the sudden appearance of the Sages and the implications of them dawned down upon them. The heaviness and wrongdoings of the last two days lay heavy on some shoulders. 

The moment Wild’s breath evened out Legend nodded, impressed, “He’s got his own built-in bodyguards,” He whispered, “Neat.”

“He doesn’t trust us as far as he can throw us,” Four stated while cleaning their weapon.

Wind sighed, “Ye can’t blame the guy,” He let his head fall onto Twilight’s shoulder, “He’s gotten pretty clear boundaries. But they’re gettin’ sailed over.”

Twilight closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the breathing of his brothers. All of them so different, so similar. Wind was right. Even though it was obvious what was too far for Wild, curiosity pushed them for answers. And he was not yet ready for that. Wild, skittish and brave, his entire world got turned upside not so long ago and he was not given’ rest by them.

“We should know who we’re travelling with,” Said Time matter of factly.

“Why?” Twilight asked, “We’ve neve’ pushed f’r answers before.”

Sky, his arms tightly squeezing Fi, looked up at the sky, “She trusts Him,” His voice was silent, “We shouldn’t pressure Him.”

But Time’s eyes, that hardness in them, didn’t change, “I am simply prioritising our safety.”

“Yer not doing shit,” Legend snapped, “He’s cool and don’t ya dare tell him I said that,” He pointed his finger at all of them, leaving it on Time, “Yer just mad he went off on his own!”

“And why wouldn’t I be worried that he could do it again?” Time asked.

“He did what he had to do,” Warriors was fiddling with the cap that Wild had presumably forgotten, “A knight’s duty is to protect his people. A hero’s duty is to protect everyone, even if he has to endanger himself. And do not misunderstand, I wholeheartedly believe he should have communicated his moves,” He looked up at Time, “But do not mistrust him because we didn’t give him the chance to trust us.”

The old man's gaze wavered towards Wild’s sleeping form, the two spectres still looming over him protectively and sighed, “I will think about it.”

“And talk to him,” Legend raised a brow, “Kindly.”

Warriors snickered, “You’re talking about kindness, now?”

“Shut the fuck up prima donna,” The veteran threw a pebble at him, “Time?” 

He closed his eyes, “Of course,” Time agreed.

“Good,” Legend smirked, “Now, Twilight, why the fuck do you stink of wet dog?”

“Yer a prick.”

“Oh, what sweet words you speak!”

Chapter Text

The second night shift was literal dogshit. You sleep for a few hours, get woken up in the middle of the deepest part of your sleep, then you'd have to be awake for a few hours and then back to bed. And if you could fall back asleep or not, was entirely your problem. 

So, alone, in the dark, sleepy and grumpy. Those were the miserable hours of the second shift. And yet, Legend quite enjoyed them. It was not often that he could get away from all the ruckus from his idiot brothers. The cold of the night was a comforting weight, a reality check that the warmth of companionship and understanding would end some day. Preferably but also regrettably, soon.

This night, however, he was not alone. The two weird blue ghost thingies of Wild were still active and moving. The Goron mostly stayed on his spot, but the Gerudo lady walked around without making any sounds. It was quite difficult to determine how aware the ghosts were, Legend decided. Their eyes were hollow, not one sign of life in them. And yet, something about the awareness of them was eerie.

He did have to admit that he knew practically nothing about the things. During the fight he didn’t particularly have the time for observation. But when Wild introduced them all (not that Legend memorised the names) they had been listless. Just standing there. Unlike what was happening now.

Behind the translucent blue of the Goron Wild turned in his sleep, now facing the campfire and all of them. Both the ghosts gazed at him for a long period of time after the initial turn, when it was apparent that Wild was still asleep, they continued to keep watch along with Legend. 

He wondered how responsive they would be if something actually happened. Would they recognise danger faster than him? Would they kill whatever monster with efficiency or would they mindlessly hack on it? 

With questions like that, Legend wished that Wild would tell them more. Or at least, give them some hints that he could work with. He liked puzzles, he liked the frustration that dissolved like sugar in water when he got it. He liked seeing others struggle while he didn’t. But whatever Wild had given him ‘till now wasn’t enough. Not to figure out those weird ghosts, at least.

A gasp pulled Legend’s attention, there, at the very edge of the camp sat Wild. Upright with his head in his face, his shoulders trembling with whatever nightmare plagued the man. The Goron and Gerudo immediately flocked to his sides. While he still stood guard, just closer, she kneeled down next to Wild. A hand on his back and another one on his shoulder. The weird ghost thingies were comforting Wild. Huh.

“We all have them, you know,” Legend averted his gaze towards the flame, “Nightmares, I mean.”

But silence was the only response he got for a while, only the crickets in the bushes filled up the space. Had he already broken a boundary? Should he have kept quiet? But if he did that, would Wild ever let down his walls all on his own? Something in Legend told him that no, he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do it himself, why would Wild?

Only the faint rustling of clothes allerted him to the fact that Wild was moving towards him. Not even his footsteps made sound. 

“Ye hungry?” Legend asked when he saw Wild sit down in his peripheral vision, “I stole some beef jerky from Wars.”

But Spice shook his head and silence overtook them once again. It was comfortable. Wild reminded him of the cold, the blanket of security both seemed to emulate. The clearness in their nature. 

“Those ghosts of ye.”

Wild turned to him, “Sages. They’re not dead, so no ghosts.”

“Right right, whatever that means,” Legend waved it away, “Are they, like, sentient?”

Spicy hummed and threw a glance over his shoulder, towards the two ghosties that stood guard again, “It’s complicated. They are but they are not.”

“Ya love ya’r mystery, don’t ya,” The vet chuckled dryly.

The other man shrugged but the flames made his slight smirk oh so visible, “When the real sages are asleep they can choose to control their ‘ghosts’, as you call them. They do not do it often, but they’re protective.”

“Well,” Legend looked at the two blue shit heads, “Isn’t that nice of them.”

“They do not trust easily,” Wild averted his gaze towards the flames.

“Ya have that in common.”

Breathing in deeply, Wild closed his eyes, “We do.”

“Ya also have problems with Time,” Legend rolled his shoulders, “Not that I blame ya, he can be a real piece of work.”

Slowly Wild opened his eyes, casting them on Legend; they were electrifying blue, “I guess.”

“Is there any reason, next to the ‘bvious?” 

A breeze passed through the camp, it was cold and biting, not too unusual for the time of year but surprising nonetheless. Wild did not seem to care about it though, he still gazed upon Legend with unfaltering eyes. They analysed him, saw through him. Or that is how it felt, to be observed by Wild. He knew that it was a ridiculous and irrational thought. And yet, he could not shake the feeling off.

“My nightmare,” Wild signed, “It was a memory.”

The change of topic was disconcerting, “Aren’t most?” He asked, somehow short of breath.

“My father was a captain, as was my grandfather and his father and so forth,” Wild slightly slanted his head, observing Legend’s every reaction, “It was natural I was also to become a captain.”

“Did you want to?”

He shook his head ever so slightly, “I did not enjoy training. But I had no choice and then, when I was a squire,” He sucked in a deep breath, “I pulled Her.”

Legend’s breath got stuck in his chest, it was uncomfortable. It was too real. Those eyes, those words, those feelings. They were recognisable, they were a truth he knew all too well. The despair of having a faith you don’t want. The agony of doing what you’d rather not do.

“And then you became a hero,” Legend didn’t know what to say otherwise, what to ask instead.

But Wild shook his head, “I didn’t become anything. I simply stayed a child.”

“Was that the nightmare? Pulling the sword as a kid?”

“Yes. No. It's complicated,” He sighed, “Training was already unfairly harsh because of who I was as a captain's son.”

Generational pressure, a father expecting everything from you. The soldiers and trainees filled with resentment and jealousy. And then their object of that hate, just a child, pulls the sword of legends. The mental scene was so clear. So obviously cruel and yet simple.

“And then you pulled her,” The knot in Legend’s chest remained, it pulled and twisted as Wild nodded with nonchalance painted on his face, his eyes calm waters, “Goddamn Wild Spice,” He snapped his gaze away from those blues, it was all too much, “Ye got any more tragic shit to r‘veal?”

A light chuckle bounced through the camp, creating a symphony with the crickets. The very air itself warmed with it, “Wouldn’t you like to know,” Wild’s voice was ever so rough as usual. 

“I do,” Legend shot a glance at Wild, he sat more comfortable than he had previously seen, his gaze on the fire and a slight smile on his lips, “Ye got fancy ghosts and trinkets.”

The smile deepened, “Don’t push it,” There was mirth in his eyes.

“You’ve told me plenny,” The vet rolled his shoulders, “Though why, I don’t get.”

Wild hummed, holding up his right arm up, making it reflect in the flames, he shot a glance towards Legend, “Figure it out yourself,” His smile turned mischievous. 

“Yer a brat,” Legend scowled, “None of th’se fuckers’ gonna bel’ve yer not some brooding asshat.”

Again, light chuckles filled the air, “Your loss,” Wild signed before standing up and stretching, “I’m off to bed.”

“Hey, Wild,” Legend trusted on Spice to pay attention and kept his gaze on the fire, “None of us mean harm.”

The other man hummed, “Goodnight, Legend.”

“I hope there’s a snake in yer blank’t.”

And with a final short chip of laughter silence enveloped Legend again. Leaving him with his thoughts and feelings. With the new information Wild had willingly given him and the realisation that he was, again, given the trust of the newbie. 

Ha. Suck it Twilight.

Chapter Text

Link awoke with loud chatter surrounding him. Ah, right. Them.

With a heavy sigh he pushed himself up, flinching at the throbbing pain in his arm. He shouldn't have slept with the prosthetic on. But removing it in such unfamiliarity was a daunting thought.

“Ah!” Wind practically shoved his teen face into Link's, “Yer awake!”

Although annoyed at such energy, warmth pooled in his chest. The kid reminded him of Zelda before, well, before that.

“Ye gotten preference fo’ eggs?” Twilight asked from his place at the fire.

Legend scoffed, “What’s the choice? Burned or slightly burned?”

“Rude.”

“No thank you,” Link signed before they could start bickering, “I'll just have an apple.”

Twilight shrugged and went back to cooking.

Wind, still very much in his space, looked at him with a wide grin, “Excited for adventure?!”

As if his ‘adventure’ had ever stopped. As if he had gotten the chance to miss the action.

But he smiled softly at the kid, “Very,” He lied but the brightening of Wind's eyes made it worth it.

“Great! These galls are SO not cool,” Wind ignored Legend protesting in the background, “So we - the coolest of heroes - are gonna team up!”

“Okay,” Link agreed before ruffling the kid's hair. Wind squealed at the action and swiftly scurried away but the smile didn't leave his face.

“G'morn,” Hyrule softly greeted him, his arms full of wood, “How'd ye sleep?”

The sun was bearing down on him, it was late morning and everyone except Sky was awake, “Well. Long.”

“Tha mornin’s young,” He dropped the logs next to Twilight, “Yer fine.”

Link hummed, not entirely too sure about that. A quick look at his Purah Pad showed that it was the seventh hour. Two hours later than his usual wake up time.

“Okay,” Warriors clapped once, a grin on his face, “Let's review the rotations before embarking on today's journey!”

Seeing how everyone flocked to their seats from last night, Link decided to also go back to his former spot. Carefully chosen, just at the edge of camp.

Warriors cleared his throat, carefully opening a paper he looked almost like an aide instead of a captain, “We're not changing much,” He hummed and scratched something on the paper, “The rotation will only be prolonged for a day. Wild, do you have a preference regarding your first task?”

Did he? He would like to cook, it would be comforting to do after the last few days of continuous stress. And it didn't seem like any of them could actually cook. Not that Link cared that much, he had eaten way worse before. In the army and after he had woken up. Food is food. Taste did not matter when it came to survival.

“I don't,” Link lied.

Cooking to him was comfort, it was losing himself in the moment and in himself. Those were the moments that Zelda managed to take him by surprise. The only chance for others to sneak upon him.

“Alright,” Warriors nodded, “Then, hm, let's see. I’m putting you-”

“With me!” Wind interrupted, “I’m on wood duty today!”

Link thought of the 999 bundles of wood he had currently in his Purah Pad and frowned. Even when he was low on supplies, getting wood had never been a job for two before. Then again, nothing was a two man’s job to him. 

“Sounds good to me,” Warriors agreed, “Then you will have to take the first night shift, Wind. And Wild, you're on second shift. Tomorrow you’ll have no night shift and water duties. And after that I'll just tell you then. Or you can have a look at the schedule,” He waved the paper.

After that, little was said, instead rustling of bags filled the air as they got ready to embark on whatever adventure this was supposed to be. Wind continued to hang around him with a never ending grin, stories of the sea an endless stream of entertainment. It was pleasant background noise, if sometimes a bit too loud. 

“So then me lill’ sister, Aryll,-”

Link didn't hear the rest, not consciously anyway. The sky, already somewhat dull in this sickly world, grayed even more. Greens became muddy and distant. He wanted to sigh but could not afford to pull attention to himself. Bright laughter started filling his ears, far away and yet directly into his brain.

He began to move, why he did not know. It mattered little, not when a high, chipper voice followed him wherever he went. She was telling a story, it was one he knew. He was the one who read it to her after all. It was her favourite, so it was also his favourite. 

A chill started creeping up his spine, but no matter. She giggled as she took his hand, pulling him further and further. It was almost her birthday she told him, she and auntie were preparing a huge party and she started begging for him to be there. 

How old was she turning again?

Ten! She answered even if he didn’t actually ask anything. Her big brother was now seventeen, so she would be ten! 

Dread filled his entire being. Ten. She had been talking for months about turning ten. She had begged and cried for him to be there. And yet he couldn't promise anything, he had been appointed as the personal knight of Zelda not long before. On top of that he still kept up with his usual training regimen. He had so little time. So little energy for anything that wasn't his Goddess given mission.

But you promised, her voice had been thick with tears when he told her that he couldn't come. Princess Zelda’s seventeenth birthday was upcoming so they had to make the journey to the spring of wisdom.

Link couldn’t stay for Aryll's birthday. He couldn't be there at her big party at Castle Town.

Her laughter, ringing loudly through his entire being, morphed into sobs and screams. And back to laughter, once again. A child of quick change and easy forgiveness. And yet, the last time he had seen her she had proclaimed her hate for him.

Familiar sensations overcame him. Fear and adrenaline, dread and anxiety. The feelings of battle were ever the same, ever the concoction of nauseating experiences. Screams echoed in his head, glaring red dots itched on his skin. He had to get Zelda to safety, he had to get her to Hateno ford but his sister was at Castle Town. The first blow took his breath away, the favourite story of his sweet sister kept being told even if violence became his entire world. Zelda needed him, his sister begged him to stay. The guardians tried their very best to blow him into tiny pieces.

His entire world became a fight, and he was not sure if it had ever been anything else. People screamed, Hateno ford fell, smoke was in his vision no matter where he tried to look. Every direction, every town, every living being he saw, they were all on fire. Dying and on fire. And he was failing to do anything about it, he himself was on fire. Or so it felt like. The burning of his muscles so intense that he wished to be thirteen again, when his uncle had taken over his training and he was pushed to practise from dusk till dawn. Until he fell over from exhaustion.

So when the princess thanked her brave knight, the night finally ceased to be and the sun rose for the first time in dicenia. So was the end of Aryll's favourite story. Picture perfect and serene. One time just before she fell asleep she had confessed to him that she hoped it would be like that for him too. A gentle end to a violent life.

And yet it was not to be.

Pain and suffering became a staple so present in his life that he learned to fight even in his sleep. So that even if his mind was nowhere to be found, but his body was able to keep on standing, he could fight on. So that he would never let down someone else's Aryll.

So that he would always be able to protect his knights, his comrades in arms. Even if he did not like them, even if he did not trust them. He would fight and he would protect. For that was his Goddess given role. Even if that meant he would sometimes awake in a pool of blood and guts, worried faces circling him and questions hurled at him. 

Even if that meant he would have to relearn over and over that his dear sister was dead while he had to grapple with the reality of his life. And simply, just get up and move on. With little regard to the worry of his soul sharers.

After all, if one, born to fight his every living breath, were to lose his very mind. It was only natural for him to continue the battle regardless.

Chapter Text

A sharp ugly yelp was all that alarmed him to the arrival of bokoblins. It was a hideous red one that he didn’t recognise, must be from Wild’s time period then. It was crawling on the ground, bleeding black but retreating. Another one of them monsters screeched from the bushes behind the crawling bokoblin, it bared its teeth before jumping out at the group.

“DEFENCE!” Warriors screamed, his weapon already in hand.

The monster aimed for their youngest who stood ready with his weapon in hand, its frame larger than any of them, it had large feet and hands. Warriors was fast but not fast enough to block the monster before it would reach Wind, a shout sat ready in his throat when in a movement of shifting blue the monster was struck down. Wild above it with a two-handed weapon as large as him. The remaining monsters screeched at the death of their pack member but it had little impact on the hero that stood on the dissolving corpse.

“I could’ve gotten that,” Wind pouted with little actual offense. 

“Attention,” Time stepped forward, “There’s others.”

And so there were, not only the remainders of the pack, but the noise of the short scuffle pulled the attention of surrounding monsters. In no time they were surrounded by a healthy mix of monsters of all eras. 

“How dandy,” Legend muttered while standing in formation, “I am not mending any clothes tonight,” He said loudly to the lot of them.

“Yea yea,” Four rolled their eyes, “Yer not our mum, we know.”

Twilight sighed, “Yall ain't take anythin’ seriously.”

“Nope!”

“Guys,” Warriors chuckled, but quickly pulled himself together, “We got business to do,” He observed the monsters, they were circling them without attacking immediately. Some intelligence, some form of team work, “Black blooded. And with plenty of numbers,” He said. 

Bokoblins, Tektite, Peahat, Moblins, Darknuts, Wizzrobes and some annoying Keese surrounded them. How lovely of them to show up to their walk.

“Wild?” Wind’s voice pulled Warriors attention, it was small, worried. And he saw quickly why, the knight still stood where the monster had dissolved, his gaze distant, “He’s been acting strange the entire morning,” The teen’s eyes were wide as he looked from Wild to Time and Warriors.

“There’s movement,” Legend alarmed them.

Great, Warriors threw a quick glance at the monsters, some bokoblins were creeping forward, “Twi, protect Wild,” The farm hand nodded and swiftly made his way over to the boy, “Okay, usual team-ups except Hyrule, you join Sky and Legend.”

Finally, the monsters decided they had stalked the heroes enough, a black moblin screeched and in one great wave, they came at them. Warriors slashed down a red bokoblin easy enough, two of them replacing the dead one in quick succession. Next to him, Four pounced down on a peahat before continuing on the flood of weak but many boko’s.

“Shit!” Was all Warriors heard Twilight curse before he saw Wild sprint past him, his four blue spectres right besides him.

“Twilight!” Warriors blocked a darknut’s attack, “Get him out of here!” Dodging under the club of a bokoblin he used the momentum to stab the darknut in the crevices of the armour.

Twilight was already past him at that point, "Yer talkin' 'bout catchin' a runaway horse with no reins!” He screamed over his shoulder

“Just let him!” Legend screamed from his own battle, “He can handle himself!” 

“Yer kiddin’!” Twilight kicked away a bokoblin before it reached Wild, “He’s not ‘imself!”

“Wizzrobe!” Four warned them, “It’s an elemental bitch! Electricity!”

But before they could get worried about the wizard like monster it got struck down with multiple arrows. Warriors looked around but knew not who had shot the damn arrows. Hyrule and Sky were busy with multiple darknuts. Time and Wind had a small army of Tektite on their hands. Legend had made his way towards them, a manic grin on his face.

“I’m telling you! Spice can handle a bow!”

“Wild isn’t holding a damn bow!” Warriors kicked away a peahat.

But Legend cackled, stabbing down on the same peahat Warriors had kicked, “Ya missed it!”

The world turned golden, his hair charged with electricity, “What monster?!” Hyrule yelled from afar, his gaze panicked. And for good reason, the entirety of the battlefield was a danger. None of them were resistant to lightning and most were actually susceptible to it with their armour.

But Legend kept cackling, “Do it Wild!”

Warriors span around, just in time to see Wild hold up a mighty bow, three arrows ready on the string. He focused on a particular spot on the field where none of the heroes were but plenty of monsters stood to wait. A deep breath and he released the storm. Lightning struck where his arrows landed, the monsters fell. 

“Go Spice!”

“Damnit!” Warriors punted a bokoblin down, “This would’ve been nice to know!”

“Ye didn’t fucking ask!”

“Legend!”

The ground shook and fire ignited, before he could ask what the fuck was happening now, the Goron returned to Wild. Another fucking spectre. Their local apparent nutcase ran towards the flames, jumping in them, “Wild!” He yelled but it was to none hearing ears and to little consequences as from the flames Wild flew up with a wooden contraption, “And what is that?!” He yelled over at Legend while stabbing a darknut in the neck.

“Time magic!” Legend cackled while slashing down bokoblin after bokoblin, his words pulled attention of most.

“He has WHAT?!” Wind yelled in shock but obvious excitement.

“Just waiii-” Legend’s words slowed down as did everything else. The monsters, themselves, the weapons, the fire. The world itself nearly froze. It was only arrows that sped past with much velocity. And before long, in no actual time, speed resumed to normal and monsters fell down in quick succession, “-it!”

Wild fell down to the ground, panting and trembling, Twilight already by his side, “He’s ailin’!” He yelled at no in particular. And it did little as Wild pushed him aside and summoned a new sword in blue strings, this one a one handed one that seemed reinforced with some kind of horn.

And so it went on. Wild took out hordes and hordes of monsters, numbers that overtook the others combined. He summoned lightning itself, set fire to the enemies and used their burning bodies to send him off into the sky to kill more of the dwindling pack.

It was in no time that the last bokoblin had been decapitated with much ease. None of them had large injuries, only fatigue plagued them seriously. 

“That was…” Wind sat down on the ground, his tunic ripped, “AWESOME!” He threw his arms in the air.

 But his enthusiasm did little in the aftermath of such a taxing battle, more than that, something wasn’t right. Twilight stood next to Wild, clearly doubting what to do. The hero swayed right where he stood with no apparent reason why. 

“Sit’m down,” Hyrule instructed right after he checked up on everyone’s smaller wounds.

He did so with care and Wild let himself be handled with no fight. In fact, he didn’t react to anything at all. 

It was behaviour that Warriors recognized. His life had been spent mostly on the army and battlefields, his years have been enjoyable for the larger part. But war was never for the weak and it would never be. He had seen many of men and women injured beyond repair, physically but sometimes most damaging, mentally. They set off for their battle with a fight in their eyes and yet they returned just empty shells, leaving their loved ones with a living body but not much else. For some of them it was temporary, for others it was in episodes and for the unfortunate it was not to end.

He did not like to admit it, but it had always been a fear of him to end up like that. Just a husk of a body that had to be returned to Zelda and Impa. Tales of battle attached to him but sacrifice too large.

To see a hero like that, his soul sharer, was not something he had himself prepared for. And why should he have? A knight with a sickness of the mind was not one that would return back to the battlefield. Warriors had expected it would be the same for them, heroes. Yet those were soldiers that froze when their minds disappeared, Wild had done nothing to those likes. He had fought on. 

And he supposed that was more terrifying than freezing up and doing nothing more.

“Bodily e’ll be fine,” Hyrule muttered after finishing his most basic tests, “The mind’s ‘nother tale.”

Four crouched down before Wild, peering into his eyes, “He’s there,” They hummed, “Just. Stuck. I guess.”

“We set up camp in the tree line,” Time announced, "Prioritise rest and safety. Twilight, please move Wild to camp,” He turned around towards the trees he was speaking about and walked off.

Next to Warriors Legend raised an eyebrow and set his hands on his hips, “This’s not gonna end well.”

Four rolled their shoulders, “Wild’s unreliable,” They shot a look over at Twilight who was carefully leading Wild over to the camp with Hyrule’s help, “Crazy strong, but Time’s not going to appreciate it.”

“But,” Wind looked around with wide eyes, “We don’t know what happened.”

Warriors sighed. He was already dreading the conflict this would start. Time prioritised safety the most and not for naught, the man had a wife to go back to and would do everything to have no death on his hands. He told little of his own adventure to them, but Warriors has known a version of him before the current him. Back when portals plagued his era with enemies but allies alike. It was back then when he met the little sailor and Mask. Just some kids in a war.

“He’s unwell,” Sky’s voice was small, his gaze intensely on the master sword in his hands, “Suffering from old wounds.”

Four slightly slanted their head, “She told’ya that?”

The Chosen hero shook his head ever so slightly, “She hasn’t spoken to me since that day. It’s just,” He sighed, “A feeling, I suppose.”

“He’s a royal knight,” Warriors looked at the retreating back of Wild. Hunched and shaking. Barely moving forward even with Twilight and Hyrule’s help, “We do not know what happened on his quests.”

“Nothing good,” Legend scoffed, “Wind, ye good on yer duties without Wild?”

The teen pouted, “Yea. Getting wood alone is boring, though.”

Legend pulled Wind up, “Let’s get going then,” He grinned before setting off to the woods, leaving Wind to squeak and hurry after him.

Warriors sighed again and looked around, Sky and Four were both standing next to him, worried silence a blanket over them. Most monsters had completely dissolved by now, only some parts left behind. The sun still high in the sky and yet their journey for the day had been cut short. Not that they had much other choice. They were tired, Wild was in a catatonic-like state and Time was obviously upset.

How great for team dynamics.

“Let’s go,” He nodded towards the direction the others had set off to, “We got a camp to set up.”

--

Wild sat unmoving, as he had done so for the last hours. His hands carefully placed into his lap twitched at moments but remained stagnant in place. Although he was looking at the fire, it was clear that he saw none. His eyes, normally so electrifying blue that Warriors worried they would glow in the dark and make it so that enemies would see him, were dull. Almost scarily so. 

The others moved around him with much caution, they had none too little experience with the state of such mental anguish. And neither did Warriors. He had seen it a plenty in war, so much so he feared it. And so he had always run from it. His soldiers were sent home or were taken care of in a medical facility far from the battlefield, far from his position. They needed much care and patience, he was told. It could take hours, days, weeks or even more. 

They did not have the time for that, nor the expertise. Even if Wild deserved precisely that, care from his family and doctors. And yet he was here, the Goddess decided him ready to join their ranks and the result was more disastrous than any of them had even dared to guess.

The sun was beginning to set by the point that desperation began to settle amidst their ranks. Tasks had been finished and wounds were mended. It was the time they normally would’ve spent joking around, shaking the exhaustion off their shoulders by pretending all was good. But none had the energy for that, not even Wind’s attempts had much effect on their morale.

Most of them have had little direct contact with Wild, not enough to know who he was or what he stood for. But the connection they had was unmistakable. Heroes and knights alike aside, they were soul sharers and no matter how little interactions they have had. They were linked.

Warriors gaze fell upon the blue spectres. They had never actually left Wild’s side, they had faded at moments before coming back in a bright blue light. But gone they had not. They stood around him in a half circle, three faced the woods, the woman at them. Little trust was given to them, not even by spectres and Warriors could not blame them.

The smell of food started engulfing the campsite, it wasn’t a particularly good one but it was not bad or burned, so that should be counted as a victory for the day. Four was absentmindedly stirring into some mushroom stew, or something that was supposed to be a stew. Wind was starting to complain that he didn’t like mushrooms, that he missed his grandma’s soup, when movement caught Warriors eyes.

There, at the side of the fire, Wild twitched. It looked painful as it took over his entire body momentarily but seized as quickly as it had started. His breathing quickened as his eyes, dull before, started to brighten again. Awareness filled them, as did confusion. 

“Hey,” Twilight carefully approached Wild, not touching him and showing him his hands clearly, “Yer safe at camp,” He said soothingly.

But Wild frowned at him, perhaps not comprehending his words, and started looking around frantically. The sight of his spectres relaxed him somewhat but the presence of them all was overwhelming.

“Wild,” Twilight tried again but the knight didn’t react at all to that, “Wild, hey,” He tried again but said blond’s breathing just quickened even more.

Warriors sat at the sideline, almost desperate to be of some help. But he did not know what to do with people that had lost their minds. Nor did he know Wild well enough. None of them did. It was a hopeless situation where he couldn’t help but wonder what the Goddess was thinking when she sent them to Wild.

Surprisingly it was Wind that spoke up when Twilight’s pleas started diminishing, “Link,” He crouched down before Wild, “Do you like mushrooms?”

The blue of Wild’s eyes snapped on Wind, pupils small with stress and adrenaline. He was still shaking, breath erratic and unhealthy. Yet he was paying attention to Wind, he was seeing him and that was all that he needed.

Carefully and with large motions Wind reached out towards Wild’s hands, taking them slowly so that Wild could refuse, he started to blabber about mushrooms, “-and they’re just so slimy and gross and tasteless. And I know that doesn’t make sense because how can they be gross and tasteless but they are! I swear it! I don’t know how but they are!” Minutes of Wind talking about all the food that Wind likes and dislikes passed by and slowly but surely Wild started calming down.

“I fancy pumpkins,” Twilight had sat himself next to Wind a while ago, “Pumpkin soup’s the best,” He smiled softly at Wild who had startled at the sudden addition to the one-sided conversation.

Wind tutted, “Grandma’s soup’s betta.”

At the other side of camp Legend let out a bark of laughter, “Ye would say that to a castle cook!”

“And I would be right!”

Warmth pooled in Warriors chest. He may not have known what to do and neither did any of them, laughter and jokes would never totally evade them.

“I like mushrooms.”

Surprised silence overtook the camp, gazes stuck to Wild who looked down at Wind with a bare smile. Soft but fragile. His voice cracked with every syllable, barely loud enough to be heard by all. But it was a delight to hear.

“Bleh,” Wind stuck out his tongue, “Ye got shite taste!”

“Wind! Language!” Warriors chastized but he couldn’t stop a large grin.

They would be alright.

Chapter Text

“What was that?” The comfortable small talk by the fire got abruptly broken with a harsh tone. It was not unexpected, nor was it unwarranted. Although Legend loved to see Wild in battle again, he had to admit that they should’ve probably discussed abilities and strategies beforehand. 

On the other hand, seeing everyone’s faces when Wild pulled out his bow was the funniest thing he had seen in ages.

But dangerous, he guessed.

Wild’s shoulders had tensed considerably at the words, his gaze intently on Time but no words or signs as a response. Legend could already see veins pop up on the old man’s face.

“You went off on your own,” Time didn’t exactly glare but it was clear he wanted to, “Again.”

Warriors cleared his throat, “Technically he didn’t get any orders.”

Legend snorted much to the annoyance of Time who crossed his arms, “How long have you suffered from disease of the mind?” He asked Wild pointedly.

Little tact, Legend judged. He wasn’t sure what Time thought his approach would do, Wild hadn’t reacted well to any direct confrontation as such. Simple conversation and empathy was the way to go with the guy.

Wild didn’t react strongly to the rather rude question, he simply exhaled and averted his gaze to the flames, “I will only tell what is necessary,” He signed without locking eyes with anyone, “Ask what you want to know.”

Huh.

Legend had not expected such a mellow response. If Time had asked something like that to him, he would’ve gone ballistic on the old man. And yet Wild has apparently chosen to be the one that would put the first water in the mead.

“When did it start?” Time didn’t waste any time. 

Wild sighed audibly, “I don’t know.”

The answer didn’t satisfy the old man, but it was clear that he believed Wild. Something in the way he looked at the flames spoke of truth.

“How often do you experience such,” He considered his words, “Conflictions.”

Wild Spice seemed to deflate at the question, his gaze on his hands. Flexing both of them, seeing how they both looked in the flames. On one of them, metal reflected beautifully in the dancing light, the other scarred by the very same wounds that the light source inflicted, “That depends,”  He smiled but it felt wrong to call it a smile. It was pained and full of remorse. 

“On?”

“I don’t know.”

“What makes them start?”

“Nothing,” He shrugged, “Everything.”

The warmth of the flames seemed null with the tension in the air. Time had little expression on his face, but his eyes were hard with anger, perhaps something more. The little honest conversation Legend had with Wild before made it so that he believed that Wild wasn’t being vague on purpose. The little shit had too much fun with being intentionally mysterious.

Instead, he looked… lost.

“How can we help?” Legend asked.

Wild’s head snapped up, his blue eyes wide and focused on him. He looked utterly shocked at the question, “Help?” He asked. His voice raw.

Next to him, Wind took the opportunity to change the overal aura, a big smile on his face he said, “Yeah! You know, how to snap ye out of’it! And like prevent it and shit!”

“I don’t know,” Wild’s voice was small, breakable.

Warriors frowned, “Did none of your companions have strategies for situations such as?”

But the question did nothing for clarification, instead Wild’s eyes widened even more, his brows furrowed, “Companions?”

Oh.

“You were in the army, were you not?” Warriors voice had softened, “Did they not have healers?”

Wild shrugged and did not answer.

“Or your quest companion?” Wind asked, a thrill in his voice, “Mine’s a talking boat! Or like a boat with the soul of a dead king in it and-”

Legend cut him off, “You were alone? In both quests?”

A simple nod was all that confirmed his fears. 

“That explains a lot,” Four said. 

None of these idiots had any fucking tact. 

Silence overtook the campsite. Little of them had traveled purely by themselves, let alone for two adventures.

“What about them, wa’did ye call them, sag’s?” Twilight asked.

Wild started fidgeting with the rings on his fingers, abruptly calling away the ghosts with just a tap on them, “They were with me for some parts. To defend their own territory and at the end.”

“Zelda?”

A shrug and no answer. 

Well.

That’s nice.

How great.

“Wild,” Sky’s tone was serious, he held out the master sword with slightly trembling hands, “She’s sorry.”

It was as if time had stopped once again, Wild’s breath had caught at sight of her and the accompanying words. His eyes shone with a focus that resembled a child that knew his parents were mad and was trying to figure out how to negate the fallout.

Yet he reached out to the sword, carefully taking it out of Sky’s hands. And as it does for all of them, it dissolved into the sword of their eras. Sometimes the changes were so little that it was barely noticeable. Other times it was a purely aesthetic change.

This, however, was nothing like he had seen before. 

The sword crumbled and chipped. The bright colours faded into dullness. It- She was battered. A shell of her former self. Merely a remnant.

Sky’s breath caught but he did not seem surprised. 

“What happened?” Wind asked, almost upset.

“She’s old,” Sky answered solemnly.

Wild shook his head slightly, “Hurt,” laying the sword on his lap he signed, “My fault. I failed.”

Why are all these motherfuckers self-sacrificing, self-doubting, self-blaming assholes? 

“Wild-”

“I suppose,” He interrupted Sky, “My ailment started then,” Wild directed at Time, “But I can not tell you how long ago that was,” He shook his head and carefully placed his hands on the sword. She chimed at the touch, a slight glow of blue eliminating him. She looked healthier like that, glowing happily.

Time had been silent for long, his attention strictly on Wild, “Can’t or won’t?”

Wild shook his head, “Can’t,” He signed with one hand, his gaze still on the sword. 

“Why?” Wind asked carefully, “Are you cursed?”

The absurd question made Wild look up in surprise, his eyes wide, “Cursed?” He giggled short but sharp.

“What?!” The sailor looked around when others started laughing too, “It’s a real problem! My grandma’s distant cousin’s best friend got cursed! She’d gotten crab legs!”

Shaking his head, Wild smiled softly, “I suppose you could say I got cursed.”

Wind laughed triumphally, “See!”

“You’re distracting us, kiddo,” Warriors laughed, “Wild, you were saying?”

Spice shrugged, “If I am,” Hey paused, a thoughtful frown on his face, “Away. To say. Just shake me.”

“That doesn’t sound like the right response,” Four frowned, “Won’t you panic?”

“I suppose.”

“You’re self-destructive.”

“I’ve been told.”

“What made you spiral earlier today?” Time intercepted the banter.

Wild hummed, his gaze traveled towards the sky with its stars a plenty. His hands still on the sword he looked like he was far away again. But he smiled and answered, “I was reminded of my sister.”

Wind beamed, “You have a sister?!”

A hesitant nod, “Aryll, just like yours.”

“I know we’re literally reincarnations but your sisters also have the same name?” Legend looked sour, “That’s just weird.”

“I think it’s cool!” Wind grinned, “What’s she like?”

Wild’s gaze stayed on the sky, his grip on the sword tightened before releasing it and signing, “Let’s keep that for another night.”

Twilight hummed, his gaze on the fire, “Yer Zelda,” He began, “She said, secr’ts and trust go hand in hand. We tell ours, earn the right to hear yers."

Wild’s ears twitched but he made no move to look at the farm hand. Nor did he say anything. 

“I’ve gotten thu abil'ty to sh’ft to a wolf.”

Ah so we’re doing this now, are we? Legend thought bemused. Seems like some of these idiots learned somewhat.

Slowly but surely Wild’s head turned to Twilight, his mouth agape and brows furrowed, “Ye what?” He said in the most none-propper way Legend had heard him speak. Gone was his proper and careful pronunciation.

“He’s our pet dog,” Four nodded solemnly, not a hint of joke on their face.

“Am not.”

“He is,” Wind high fived Four with a big grin on his face.

Wild’s mouth was agape, his eyes flickering from person to person, “What?” He signed.

“Twili magic,” Twilight fidgeted with the Shadow Crystal that hung from his neck, “Suppose ye can call it me curse,” He chuckled a bit awkwardly.

Whatever reaction Twilight had expected from Wild, Legend did not know. Perhaps he had hoped that Wild would laugh at the joke, or burst out with all kinds of questions. Maybe smile and tell them one entire truth about himself. But Wild did none of that, because, why would he? He’s Wild and this motherfucker wasn’t going to tell them things easily. 

Instead of reacting normally to information as crazy as transformation (And no, he was not going to tell anyone he could turn into a bunny. Over his cold and dead body) Wild just nodded? As if it made any fucking sense?

“Ha, uh,” Twilight smiled awkwardly, his eyes desperate, “Ye… uh, wanna see?”

“No,” The answer was quick and without hesitation, “That’s okay,” Wild’s face was back to impassive. As if nothing would ever truly surprise him for longer than just a moment. 

Legend couldn’t help but laugh at the situation too much of Twillight’s annoyance, “Is there anything that faces ye, Spice?”

He had meant it purely as a joke, he had not anticipated any real response but Wild did nothing except surprise him, “Plenty,” He signed before looking down at the master sword. It had stopped glowing the moment he took his hands off it, without it the sword looked sick and pathetic. 

“She can hear you, you know,” Sky took the opportunity (as he would always do if he got the chance to gush over his oh-so-special sword), “Fi, I mean.”

A single brush of Wild’s touch made her brighten up once again. Brilliantly blue, similar to the eyes gazing at her with remorse and another feeling Legend did not know how to analyse. 

A conversation between Wild and his Zelda came to mind, it had been full of anger and upset. Or at least, from Zelda. Wild, even back then when he had been in the familiarity of his own era, home and princess had shut himself off from engaging in the feelings he had about the sword. About his name.

He wondered, if they had not been there, would Wild have admitted his hurt to Zelda? Would he have sought comfort, a place to be honest for once. 

Does anyone know the entire truth of Wild? Or did he speak in riddles and half-truths with everyone in his life? Running away from all who care about him?

“What do you need to know,” Wild suddenly spoke up again, but he did not answer Sky, instead he looked to Warriors, “Of my abilities. For strategy.”

The sudden callout seemed to surprise Warriors, but recovered fast, ever the (self-reported) good captain he was, “All of it. What weapons you can wield and have in your arsenal. Your ability with the bow. Special abilities,” He took out a notebook from some inside pocket, “And perhaps more if you think it to be important.”

Wild nodded, but before he started the (probably way too lengthy) list he handed over the sword back to Sky, “Thank you,” He almost whispered, a soft smile on his face.

Sky looked like he might cry, “Of course,” His smile was wobbly.

“Okay,” Wild looked back to Warriors, “I am professionally trained with one-handed swords, two-handed swords, spears and the bow.”

Four whistled short and sharp, “Damn. And mastered all of them?”

“As far as I was able to.”

Warriors was nodding, an impressed look on his face, “I have seen little men better with the bow than the skills you have shown today.”

A slight frown formed on Wild’s forehead, “Little men? As in children?”  

“Uh-”

“If children possess better abilities than I do,” Wild paused, his face twisted, “I cannot imagine how extraordinary your era must be.”

If Wild didn’t look absolutely crushed by the thought of kids being better than him, Legend would’ve laughed at the joke. But it was no joke.

“Spice,” Legend massaged his temple, “He meant that yer one of the damn best archers he’d seen yet.”

Warriors nodded along frantically, “You’re impressive,” He double-downed.

Time looked away when he agreed, “Although I still have the opinion that you should have stayed out battle. I do admit your way with the bow is admirable.”

Wild’s cheeks blushed as he looked away abruptly, his ears also rather red, “I am also capable of wielding whips, axes, magically inclined weaponry and basically everything that I can hold.”

Wind laughed, “That sounds like yer runnin’ ‘round with a ladle, spankin’ the beasts!” He took a branch next to him and played out his fantasies.

Rolling his shoulders Wild stood up with a painful sounding cracking of his knees which he paid no attention to. With a touch on his magic stone shit thing, a ladle appeared in blue strings, “En garde?” He challenged Wind.

The teen’s grin widened even more, mischief lighting up his eyes, “Oh! Yer on!” And without further communication or warning Wind barged forward, branch ready to strike. He ran low, taking advantage of his smaller stature, aim at the legs.

Wild stood largely still, his stance was ready for a fight but he made no move to actually defend. So when Wind’s branch, although not the largest or most painful one looking, came grass lengths to his legs there were already outcries of worry. They maybe had a healer but unnecessary and plain dumb injuries were not in the plans even if Legend thought them to be funny.

But their worry was unneeded. The branch was practically touching him already when in a feat of acrobacy Wild flipped backwards. And just like before, when in battle Wild had managed to slow down time, the same oppressive feeling sucked the air out of the world. He fell slowly, just as the rest of reality was as slow. But the moment his feet touched the ground he sped forward, unarming Wind with ease, and still continuing his attack. In what felt forever but was only just a moment he had not only removed his enemy's weapon but struck him down plenty of times.

The air returned and Wind looked around confused, his hands free and him defeated. 

“I just tapped you each time, but with real force, a ladle can be a deadly weapon,” Wild twirled around the utensil, “Not very durable, though.”

“Huh,” Wind said.

Four narrowed their eyes, “Ya do that with all yar weapons?”

“Most.”

“And you maintain them?”

Wild’s eyes widened, “So,” He looked towards Warriors again, ignoring Four’s curses, “Need any more information?”

“Well-”

“Yes,” Time interrupted Warriors, “Please explain your magic.”

The knight slanted his head, “My sages?”

“No, your magic,” Time put much emphasis on ‘your’ and yet he got no response, just a confused frown, “The time magic.” He explained further.

That did seem to set off a lantern, “My Champion ability?” Wild shrugged, “I don’t know what there is to explain.”

“Time spells’re extrem’ly rare,” Hyrule spoke up for the first time, his dislike of confrontation shining through that night, “Harsh to wield too.”

“Spells?” Wild frowned.

“Ye were s’cool!” Wind had shaken himself from his loss, “Ye were like!” He pretended to jump onto a log in slow motion, “And then ye were like wha!” He drew the string of his imaginary bow, “And the monsters!” He shot down Twilight with an invisible arrow. The man gasped and fell backward, stirring up dry dirt with his fall, Wind rushed towards him and switched to his mighty non-existent sword, stabbing it right through Twilight’s chest. The largest grin on his face, “Totes badass!”

“Thank you?”  

“I gotta give it to ya,” Legend drawled, “The magic’s impressive, ye gotta show me the trick.”

Wild still was frowning, his nose scrunched, “I don’t have the ability for magic.”

Not all of them had magic, not innate anyway. Magic tools and gadgets? Sure. But it was only Hyrule and Legend that had magic all of their own. The others with magical abilities were ones that they had acquired through their adventures.

Twilight’s ability to turn into a dog? Thank the crystal and the twilight realm.

Time’s… well. His time magic was done with his music. Through an object. As far as Legend knew the guy couldn’t do it without his ocarina. And if he did, Legend would kick his ass for keeping such a thing from him.

Pure innate magic was rare in the group, even if they shared the same soul. You could even argue that most of the abilities they could perform with objects were a result of that soul. So for one of the ones to have magic that he could use without any help or medium to say he doesn’t have magic? It was absurd.

And again, if Wild didn’t look so absolutely lost and serious, Legend would’ve thought that he was just messing around with them.

Hyrule seemed to think the same, “Yer joking?” He asked with wide eyes, disbelief painted on his face.

But Wild didn’t burst out in laughter, saying he was joking. Instead, he kept frowning, “No. Magic has been lost with time,” He signed.

“Wild,” Hyrule sounded so absolutely done it was honestly somewhat hilarious.

Legend didn’t laugh though, “Okay, Wild,” He got his attention, “If ye don’t got magic, how can yer lightnin’ ghost-”

“Riju,” Wild quickly signed before he could continue, “And not a ghost.”

“Okay okay,” Legend threw up his hands in defeat, “How can yer Riju use ‘er powers then? And ‘ow can ya use them through a soul oath?”

Wild’s hands started forming a word before he stopped, his nose scrunching up in thought, “Innate abilities?” He settled on.

Again again, if Legend wasn’t so sure that Wild was legitimately just clueless he would think the motherfucker was playing dumb.

“Wild.”

“What??” He started looking panicked on top of his confusion.

Legend sighed, “What is magic?”

“Uh,” Wild audibly hesitated, “The ability to perform spells and such?” His signs were slow and careful.

“Which is?” Legend rolled his hands, trying to convey that he just had to follow his own trail of thoughts.

And it seemed like Wild was doing just that, he mouthed a few words before he tried, “Innate to the user?”

“And how do you slow down time?”

“I… just can?” Wild shrugged before a small lantern went off in that pretty head of his.

Legend smirked, “Which is?”

Wild pouted, “Magic,” He signed before looking away, his arm crossed. It was an oddly childlike move for the man.

The camp burst out in laughter at the conclusion of their conversation. It seemed like they had followed it closely to see just when Wild would realise his own abilities. And the final of it was amusing enough, especially with the little pout on that normally serious face.

“What’ya mean, magic’s lost?” Twilight cut through the laughter. He didn’t look worried over it like Hyrule or a bit sick like Sky. It was an honest question.

Wild squinted at Twilight, considering him before abruptly lowering his arms to sign, “The royal family distrusted the Sheikah, they banished them from the castle. At that time the Sheikah elders decided to abandon their magic so they could still be trusted.”

Warriors frowned slightly, “What fools banish Sheikah?”

A shrug, “The king from that time used the Sheikah to defeat the Calamity. Their abilities and resources were the reason they won and after that he got scared.”

“He sounds fucking stupid.”

“WIND!”

“wHAT!” The teen threw his hands in the air, “He does!”

Wild eyes softened, “He was,” He agreed, “His decisions caused more harm than good. It set a precedent for all royalty to come.”

“Careful now,” Warriors tutted, “You may be Hylia’s hero, but criticising royalty will not be forgiven.”

“Zelda is the only royal remaining,” Wild’s eyes bore into the captain, “And she hates the monarchy plenty more than I.”

An icy gust of wind passed the camp, the flames of their bonfire lessened but moved sporadically, creating shadows over Wild that only made his words heavier.

--

Wild hadn’t slept. 

He originally wanted to do the first night shift but everyone gave a resolute no. Not after the day he had. After a long discussion, he only conceded when Time and Warriors both gave him a stern no.

And yet, the night has passed and all shifts report the same. Wild was awake when they had their shift. Sometimes walking around, other times looking at his magic-tech-thingy, just every so often he laid down to presumably try to sleep. But that never lasted long, they told Legend. He presumed that Wild at least talked to them sometimes but when he asked he got mixed answers.

To Wind who got the first shift, he did speak.

Time, who got the second shift, received a cold shoulder but he also admitted to not trying at all.

And Twilight, who got the third and last shift also got some pleasant conversation. But apparently Wild did everything he could to avoid any mention about the whole wolf thing. 

Still, Legend couldn’t say too much to the guy because he was literally the most active of them all this early in the mornin’. He had gotten wood even before any of them had woken up, he somehow found a safe stream somewhere and gotten plenty of water, everything stood ready to make breakfast (and fuck, it was his turn wasn’t it?) and now, after all that, he sat by Wind, mending the kid’s tunic.

He sighed.

“What do y'all want?” He didn’t say it all too loud. If no one reacted he could make what he wanted to and that meant he could be lazy.

But he had no such luck, Wind had heard loud and clear, “Pancakes!” He grinned.

“Ye know damn well I can’t make pancakes,” He raised an eyebrow, “Be realistic.”

Wild looked up from the tunic and frowned but shrugged and looked down again. What a fucking weirdo. What was that look? Did he not know what pancakes were? Was that it? Was Wild’s era so depressing?

Wind dramatically sighed, “Porridge’s fine,” And yet he pouted while saying it.

Porridge he could do. He didn’t like it, but hey, ye gotta pick yer battles.

He yawned as the thick slurry began to thicken after some time. It was way too damn early. And most of the others were beginning to wake up, noise doubling with each of them. Really, it was a wonder that monsters didn’t find them more. 

“Food’s ready,” He began to shovel decent portions into bowls when Wild appeared next to him, a frown back on his face, “What?” Legend asked.

“No fruit?” Wild pointed at the porridge.

Huh. That would sweeten it up, wouldn’t it?

“We don’t have any,” He replied, acting like the idea didn’t surprise him.

“I do,” Wild quickly signed before he focused on his bullshit-stone, and in barely any time Wild was holding fruit that he hadn’t even seen yet. He tossed it all on some makeshift table, immediately starting to cut them up.

“Food?” Sky held out his hand, eyes still closed, swaying at the very spot he stood.

“Wake up, first.”

“Ye got bananas?!” Wind gasped when he also turned up for food.

Wild nodded and presented his array of fruits to add to the porridge, “Banana, apple, wildberries, hydromelon, voltfruit, and for some spark I have some shock fruit.”

Oohs and aahs filled camp.

And after adding most to his porridge (no, he didn’t add shock fruit , why was Wild trying to make his damn food laden with electricity??) he had to admit, it was damn good.

--

To not only his own surprise the following day went without any issues. No monster. No fights. It was rather peaceful.

That on its own was worrying enough as it was, but on top of that Wild seemed very comfortable with them. He hung back at the end of the group and talked with whoever decided to join him in the tail. Dare Legend say that it was a small miracle! Even Time seemed content with the dynamic that was slowly forming. The night before had explained plenty enough, it seemed like. Or enough for the moment, at least.

The only thing that pulled down the day somewhat was Twilight. The rancher had been sulking next to him from the moment that Wild pretty obviously avoided him this morning. And the sun has begun to approach the horizon by now, so it has been a damn long time. His pouting was getting on Legend’s damn nerve.

“Yer whole damn family didn’t get bloody murdered,” He snapped at Twilight, “The pup yer tryin’ to adopt just said no. So stop actin’ like tha!”

The pout only got bigger, “Didn’ get a no.”

“Right. He just ignored ya.”

“His reaction to your wolf persona was quite strange,” Four popped up between them, making use of their smaller stature.

And the little freak of nature was pretty spot on with that. Wild’s reaction was strange.

“The shit’s hidin’ somethin’,” Legend murmured, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder at Wild who was currently giving Wind a piggyback ride for some reason.

Twilight frowned but didn’t say anything, Four however did, their eyes flashed blue, “He has been looking at his Purah Pad and at Twilight a lot,” Blue peeked through, “He’s pondering about something.”

“Ponderin’?” Ranchie frowned, “Bout what?”

Four shrugged, “Ask him instead of me,” And with that he skipped toward other heroes, leaving points of interest with all of them. 

“Cryptic lill’ shit.”

“Legend!”

“Yer just mad cause’ I’m right!”

He sighed, “Do I ask?” Twilight asked, “Wild, I mean.”

“I know what you meant, big doof.”

“Doof?”

“Just ask,” Legend rolled his eyes, “Yer just annoyin’ me with askin’ me.”

Twilight pouted just for a moment before a big grin appeared on his pretty little face, “Yer right! ‘Gotta holler me boots and strangle the snake before it bites me sheep!”

“What the fuck are ya on ‘bout?”

But Twilight was gone already, making his way to the back of the group. He had little time to consider the whole conversation before the Ranch hand’s now empty place got filled with their special little birdie.

“Sky,” He greeted him.

“Hello Legend,” His smile pure and bright as always.

He never talked much with Sky. Their ideas and beliefs were too different, almost entirely opposites. That didn’t mean he disliked the guy, not at all. It was just somewhat hard to talk to him.

“Wild trusts you,” Sky said, “Does he not?”

Huh.

“I like to think he does,” Legend narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

The birdie fidgeted with his hands, pulling on his fingers with anxiety, “I am just,” He hesitated, “Worried. I suppose. He is loved dearly by Fi and the Goddess Hylia herself.”

“Don’t ye say we’re all?”

“Yes, but-”

“He’s special?” Legend raised an eyebrow, “Is that what yer sayin’?”

“I suppose.”

Well, that’s some bullshit. 

Legend knew that something was up with Wild and his relationship with literally everyone. The master sword apologised to him, he talked to the fucking goddess of all people, the people in his Hyrule kissed the ground he walked on. But was that enough reason for Sky to consider him special? To insinuate that the goddess cares more about him than all of the others, including Legend himself?

“What is so different ‘bout him?” Legend knew that he sounded upset. And that was because he was, not for himself but for all of them. How could she have ‘special’ ones? How dare she show that she has ‘special’ ones?

Sky merely shook his head, “I do not know. But She worries and so I worry.”

“Why? He’s adjusting just fine, isn’t he?” A quick look to the back showed how right he was. Twilight stood next to Wild with a large grin, ruffling the blonde long hair. Wild’s ears red with a blush.

“I,” Sky pulled his sailcloth tighter around him, “He. I don’t know,” He interrupted himself, “He seems.. Lost. Lonely.”

Did he?

Wild had moments where his gaze was far away, moments where his entire mind was corrupted by a disease they did not know. And yet he answered the questions they asked the most he could. He smiled for them, laughed with them. He let Wind ride on his back even if the teen was more than capable enough to walk on his own.

Lost? Perhaps in his own mind at times.

Lonely? He had his entire Hyrule after him. Every citizen they had met and even his Zelda herself were protective to a fault and what Wild had said about the sages told Legend that they too would fight for their hero to the very bitter end. And now he was surrounded by people who understood him best for they shared the same soul.

How could Sky call him lonely when that was all so apparent?

“She’s tired,” Sky suddenly spoke up again. He had the master sword in a tight grip, his eyes laid heavily upon it, “Exhausted and guilt-ridden.”

“And?”

“Legend,” His eyes begged for understanding, “She is a sword who does not hesitate to put her own master in a seven year sleep. She has no regrets about that. And still, she does feel guilt for Wild.”

He didn’t know who Sky was talking about, what hero slept for seven years or why. But still, it gnawed at him that it would do that. How unfair it was that the hero who was its victim at that time did not deserve guilt and yet another did.

“But you don’t know why.”

Sky shook his head softly, “She won’t tell.”

“Wild ain’t tellin’ us either.”

“They have that in common.”

Fucking bastards, the both of them.

“Do not blame them,” Sky said almost pleadingly, “If anyone, blame-”

“Don’t ye dare say ‘me’,” Legend interrupted him, “I’m blaming yer cursed goddess, not anyone mortal.”

The Chosen hero, the first of them, eyes filled with unshed tears, “What is our soul if not immortal?”

Chapter Text

A voice, young but steady, filled his ears and thoughts. It spun together stories and places, adventures and misfortunes. The image of a small island was created, dainty and close-knitted. With a sister and a grandma waiting patiently at a home for their dear brother and grandchild to come back. The chipper and laughter of that voice was a stark contrast to the silence of the nature they were in. Far removed from the oppressiveness of Link's head.

The sister’s name was Aryll, the voice chattered. Oh, how amazing it was they both had a younger sister, how delightful it was that they both were called Aryll! 

Sweet sweet Wind. 

He used his arms a lot when he talked, he liked to show how it went down. His face was an open book, it contorted and brightened plenty. But it was his eyes that gave most away, it was the sparkle in them when he spoke of Aryll that hurt the most. Because oh wonderful was it that they could share stories about their Arylls! 

How wonderful.

His Aryll was strong but kind of a crybaby! What about Links? What did she like? How old was she? Was she proud of her brother, a real knight and Hylia’s Chosen? Did she boast of his trials and victories? Did she scare away bullies with the mention of her big brother like his Aryll did?

Wind told all he possibly could and asked the same of Link.

And it was the smile that Wind bore when he asked all that, that made it difficult for Link to simply tell him that he could not indulge in the questions. That the memories he had of his sister were sparse and painful. The very mention of her and the reminder that he could not answer most questions were tearing him apart.

He could not answer truthfully without admitting he did not remember or acknowledge that she had left the realm of the living long ago. So he did what he could do well and smiled softly down at the teen, lies on his lips and fingers. He listened to the stories of a sister he had never actually had and twisted the details of her into a version that his own sister could have grown into. Just enough similarities to delight Wind, just enough differences to intrigue him.

Yes, she loved drawing. But as she grew older she despised every picture she had made. So she destroyed them all. Leaving none for Link.

She had always been a tall child, taller than himself and their mother. But she was still smaller than their dad, she looked more like him too. While Link took after their mother.

Yes, she enjoyed horseback riding just as much as he did. They were taught by their mother. 

His grandparents did not live in the same village as he did, growing up. One pair lived at Kakariko, they visited them at every festival. His other grandparents lived at court, they had been busy and strict people, making it so they saw them less. His sister didn’t like them very much. She disliked the castle as it was not how she had envisioned it when she was just a toddler. Royalty was not as enticing as the stories. Knights were not as heroic as promised.

She was kind and funny, the real treasure of the family.

Delight at every detail, at every story, urged Link to continue to twist his little memories with the true stories of Wind’s sister and his own imagination. The teen was so very excited to talk and gossip about their sisters. Almost relieved that he could share his worries with someone who would understand Aryll. Link couldn’t take that away from him.

A story about danger, kidnapping, and bravery was somehow spun in all the stories Wind told. He had turned the sea upside down and forced destiny to recognise him, all that to save her. He would do everything for her. Had done everything for Aryll.

And Link? Wind asked him. Did he have to go to save his sister too? Or was she always safe? Did he worry for her? Wind’s Aryll always cried when he came back to Outset Island safely again! She was such a worried cuckoo! 

Link smiled down at the teen, his words failing him. The heavy feeling he always felt in his chest had swelled into something bigger and painful. It was not a new feeling or a new hurt and yet it took his breath away just the same. His body was heavy and his head felt full. And still, Wind went on, still he had to smile at the teen, pretend like nothing was amiss.

How cruel.

He felt bad for lying, it was not something he liked to do but a skill he had nonetheless mastered to an extent. After he woke up, lying hadn’t seemed necessary in the beginning. That was quickly proven otherwise as he encountered assassins determined to kill a hero that Link didn’t realise was him yet. And friends that worried much at the smallest wound. He was a busy man and he could not afford to be held down for days on end at Zora’s domain when he was just a tad bit sad or when he had but just a flesh wound.

And now this kid, he was so young when he had to save his sister. When he had to do what he had to do. In what world could Link admit to this bright-eyed teen that he had failed? That he was tired and old, with no family because he let all of them die.

So he told Wind stories of someone he had never met. Someone who had never gotten the opportunity to grow up into the person that was being described. Guilt gnawed at his throat, grief pooled in his abdomen but none of that was worse than the overwhelming nausea and hurt he felt at the mere thought of admitting to these heroes that he had failed his sister.

He would rather die.

Wind’s ramblings fell silent, his smile turned curious, a certain hero had stopped walking and waited to reach them at the end.

“Wild,” Twilight's ears hang low, his eyes large and droopy. Just like Wolfie. “Can wer t’lk?”

No. He would rather not. He doesn’t want to know for certain that the wolf that he so endeared was a hero sent by the goddess to watch over him. Link didn't want the confirmation that She had so little trust in him after he failed a hundred years ago that she sent him a babysitter. 

But if he said no, if he was honest, Wind would continue telling him about all that Link was missing. He would enlarge the hole in his heart by filling in the what-ifs.

Not for the first time he prayed silently for a portal to show up only for him, for the Goddess to realise she made a mistake. For him to be allowed to go home and lick his wounds in peace. But he was not that lucky nor loved.

“Sure,” He signed instead.

The sailor pouted, “Need space?” He asked Twilight, his pout only getting more pronounced when the farm hand nodded. “Okey then…,” Wind started walking away, kicking every little stone on his path, before looking back with a grin, “Wild, ye gotta finish yer story later, ‘right!” With that, he ran towards Four.

“Quite a lad, isn’t he?” Twilight fidgeted with the fur stuck on his belt, a careful open smile on his face. 

Link hummed. There was much to say about Wind, none that he wished to discuss with the heroes. Plenty he wanted to cry about to Zelda or perhaps Sidon. 

Besides that, there was plenty more to say about Twilight at the moment. And that was precisely why the man in question walked beside him, anxiety on his shoulders and worry in his eyes. It was quite the look for a man of his stature. Burly and powerful but emotions on a golden platter for everyone to see.

“I do not have anything against ones that can transform,” He signed slowly so that there was no chance of miscommunication. 

Relief washed over him, “Ah,” Twilight laid a hand over his heart and exhaled, “Then- why?”

Hm. Why? 

Why did Link want no further explanation? Why did he act like it was no shock to him? Why does he continuously cast out Twilight? Was it only the fact that the thought of Hylia trusting him so little was heartbreaking? Or was it the knowledge that it was no animal that saw him struggle through the hardest years of his life, but a Hylian? Maybe he was hurt that if the wolf that accompanied him was truly a hero of the past, a shapeshifter, that he never trusted Link with that information.

Perhaps it was all of that.

Should he be honest about that?

The wolf in his first quest was grey and old, unlike the Twilight before him. Did that mean that the hero before him wouldn’t remember any of their time? Should Link tell him anyway? If he did, could he pretend like he was a normal kid when his quest started? 

“The stories say the hero of Twilight was taught by a Hero’s shade,” Link signed. His heart pounding in his chest. The farm hand nodded slowly, a frown on his face, “Legends of me have not been created yet,” A lie, “And if it was up to me, they would never be,” The truth, “But if they did exist, they would talk about a hero joined by a large wolf.”

The man took a sharp breath, his eyes wide, “Ya mean?”

“He was unnaturally big and smart. More Hylian than Wolf and yet an animal all the same,” Link signed before taking his Purah Pad, quickly going down his pictures where he knew a single picture sat with his dear companion, “He had a mark on his head,” It hurt to speak, his voice scratched and the scars pulled, “Like you,” He found the pic.

It was him, younger with brighter eyes, and next to him a wolf that reached his shoulders when he sat. Beautifully grey with streaks of brown and even lighter grey. Blue eyes with such wisdom that it put most Hylians to shame. Affectionately he leaned onto Link in the picture.

Twilight’s eyes widened even further when he saw the picture, his mouth slightly agape, “Wild-” His voice wavered, “Ye said ye didn’ gotten companions,” He looked up to Link with tears in his eyes.

Guilt squeezed his throat and he did not know why. 

“I suppose I was wrong,” He cleared his throat even if he did not speak, “Although he or you, I guess,” Link looked away, “Did not speak. You were my strength.”

A sound that was similar to a sob escaped from Twilight, but when Link looked he wasn’t crying. No, a big smile sat on the man’s face, “I’m glad,” Without warning he threw his ginormous arms around Link, embracing him in a hug so large he actually raised him. 

“Woah-” Link cried in surprise but it did little to deter his wolf-friend.

“You were not alone,” Twilight softly murmured in his hair, relief flooded his intonation.

He was reminded of Sidon. The largeness of them both, the puppy-like excitement and love and softness. Both of them had eyes that begged for something that Link found difficult to give or to even name. They asked for him to open up, to take his heart and show it to them. 

Perhaps that was why he and Sidon broke off in the way they did.

Perhaps that was why Link didn’t want to know if Twilight was really Wolfie. Or why he felt deterred from bonding with the man.

But now that he did know that his wolf friend and Twilight were the same, what was it going to change? Twilight did not remember their time for it had not happened yet for the man. And Link was not going to tell him what happened. It was not for the hero to know. 

None of these heroes had any right to know.

Not even Zelda knew everything. So why would anyone else get the right? 

That disgustingly heavy feeling in his chest swelled and throbbed. Twilight’s hug was warm and safe, it was exactly what he had missed so dearly since the day that Wolfie had disappeared. The same support that had pushed him through nights of hunger and hurt. But it was tainted with the knowledge that behind that exterior of a wolf had been a hero. 

A hero that didn’t fail.

A kind hero who had tears in his eyes because he was so glad that Link hadn’t been alone.

Such a person had been with him as he learned what a failure he had been. Twilight would see every moment of Link’s first quest. How he shivered in the cold of the night. His attempts at hunting and his trial and error with plants. 

Twilight would see every death. He would see how careless Link had become the moment he received Mipha’s Grace. How he took the sweet Princessess’ gift for granted. 

The thought sickened him.

But now the hero knew nothing of that, he simply laughed and celebrated the fact that he would be of some support.

Oh, how he prayed a portal would take him away.

Chapter Text

Wild was silent.

The realisation wasn’t anything groundbreaking, to be sure. The new hero preferred sign over verbal words. It was not the silence that Sky noticed, well, he did. But it was not His sign that made Sky stand still and gape at the Hero of Wilds with a sense of awe.

It was not the words on Wild’s fingers that struck Sky as odd.

No. 

Wild sat in His silence.

He stood still, wind pushing and pulling at His clothes and hair. Grass and flowers at His feet. He basked and glowed with the sun on His skin. It was in those moments, where He was silent and grounded, that Sky had little option but to observe Him. 

Wild snuck up on people. His step was silent and deadly. He disappeared into the background with ease, made Himself small. 

And yet in moments like these, moments where Sky saw that He was not the only one who noticed it. Wild became oppressive. His long blond hair swayed with the wind, His eyes were closed, skin glowing in the rays of light. Birds that Sky had never heard before in Hyrule’s era chirped and sang. The hero of the Wilds did not suddenly start talking, His silence did not dissolve with His sound. And yet He was suddenly so very loud. 

Sky had little inclination to magic, not like the way others in the Chain had. But he knew. It was no mystery why Four observed Wild like an animal, not sure what the wild beast would do. He understood why Hyrule and Legend frantically whispered about the times when birds that had not been there before suddenly started to sing. Sky almost went along with Twilight who got pulled to the new hero and His energy. 

He had no magic like them.

What he did have, however, was a connection to the Goddess unlike any other. He was familiar with Her divinity. Her presence. It was why he recognized the portals quicker than most. It was why he had such strong devotion that it led to conflict within their rag-tag group of heroes.

It was also that exact same devotion that made it so that Sky noticed the moments when Wild stood still and basked. The moments where Him standing, His silence, became so much more than who Wild was before. The calmness He carried like a cloak, got shrugged off and instead, He became something Sky recognised. 

Divinity.

Wild had yet to explain His name. He was not obliged to, none of them were and plenty had never indulged into the stories of their titles. But Sky didn’t think he had to hear the story behind it. No, that energy, that divinity, that Wild let loose in the moments He relished in nature, it explained enough.

Sky didn’t know yet who Wild was to the Goddesses, to Hylia. But it mattered little. His devotion was strong enough for uncertainties. 

It was in that same moment of almost unbearable divinity, recognisable but not the same kind that Sky missed so dearly. That Wild shuddered and that Sky’s missing got solved. A portal shuddered as it ripped apart the fabric of reality. 

Somewhere to the left of him, Hyrule sighed with relief, “Th’nk the lords,” They had been at the young man’s era for about two weeks already. It was longer than most stays and harsher than desired. Food had been scarce to find, markets not stocked enough for the villages and nine travelling heroes.

“Team up,” Time called to them. His voice was as steady as it always was. His gaze sharp.

Wild walked among them again, He was smaller than before. The energy gone. It was disorienting how quickly it happened.

The hero quickly got flanked by Wind and Twilight. It was no surprise, they had pushed and pulled their relationship with the man more than anyone else. Not even Legend was that set on it. That was mostly because he refused to grovel like that. His ego too large and fragile. But Wind did not care. They both had a sister called Aryll. And Twilight’s resolve only got stronger the more he bonded with Wild.

Both of the heroes had some connection to Wild now. Even if it wasn’t yet clear in what exact regard (Twilight had only grinned when Wild said they knew each other already, in some way. As if that explained anything.).

They started moving through the portal. Many of them already looked nauseous just with anticipation.

It felt like falling but not. Something pulled at his body, pressure on his stomach made it feel like he was dropping. But he stayed in the same exact spot, in the middle of a darkness so dark that it wasn’t actually black.

It was everything but nothing.

He stayed stagnant but he was also actively falling.

And suddenly, as if everything exploded he stumbled into grass. Fresh air rushed into his lungs, the sun blinded him.

And just as suddenly he knew where he was. With the air in his lungs, he breathed in the warmth of all he had ever known. The sun that prickled on his skin was so very similar to his dear with the same namesake.

“Mine,” He choked out as the nausea hit him hard. 

They were on the mainland. The ground. He already knew just by feeling the grass beneath his hands as he heaved and puffed. The texture was different, the thickness of it varied much more. It was mostly untouched.

Pulling up some of the bravery that he was supposed to possess, he looked around. Never mind how his head spun with the simple motion. Most of his brothers were in similar states as him. On the ground, faces sickly pale. It was the little sailor who walked around with curves in his steps. The only effect that proved that the portal did in fact have an influence on the little guy.

Wild in comparison was already walking around with a skip in His step. His eyes wide as He looked around, handling the plants with careful touch. Taking pictures with His pad.  

“You fucker,” Legend snarled to the hero of the wild, “How’r yu foine?” The vet fell forward, gall in his throat.

Wild halted in His exploration, sympathy on His brows, “I’m used to it,” He said hoarsely. His voice always rough. The man kneeled beside Legend, a careful hand on the curled back, “Warm milk?” He suggested. He had to dodge a poorly aimed punch but not soon after everyone sat around a campfire, a cup of warm honey milk in their hands.

It was surprisingly helpful.

The warmth calmed down the aching nothingness that pooled in his stomach after a portal. The honey gave his tired body a boost. Yet there was something else in the milk, something that drove away the deep exhaustion he felt. It was not as simple as the boost he felt, not just sugar. It was deeper. Something that helped a part of him so deep and ingrained that he hadn’t known it was there.

Sky was not the only one who had noticed.

Four, quicker on their feet than they had ever been, questioned it too.

“Oh, that? Sundelions,” Wild tapped on His pad and in His hands, with a sliver a blue, a beautiful flower appeared, “It has healing properties.”

“Ye know yer plants.”

The hero shrugged, “As does everyone in my era.”

He did not elaborate, not when asked directly, not when someone tried to get it through a different subject. He remained silent. 

It was in that same silence that Wild looked around again, His brows ever so slightly furrowed. He breathed in long and deep. 

Sky knew no magic.

But he did know that Wild had something innate to Him. Something similar to the divinity of Hylia Herself. Something that made it so that He belonged to the very lands they walked on. A magic that made birds flock to Him, foxes curious and deer relaxed. 

Wild knew magic. No matter if he realised or not.

A magic that Sky’s era reacted to. And in turn Wild recognized.

--

It wasn’t long before his dear Loftwing swept down to the earth, others not far behind. It was not the first time Sky had visited his lands with soul brothers with him. So by now, they knew to send at least seven hylians and their loftwing along with his Red. 

It also meant that there was no extra Loftwing for Wild. Not that it mattered much, someone could lift with Sky and Red. But it did seemingly ruffle the hero’s feathers that He was the only one not accounted for. Which was admittedly understandable if not somewhat insecure. 

Wild didn’t care for too long though. How could He when loftwings gathered around him, their beaks pushing against His ribs? Their hylians had looks of surprise on their faces. Loftwings were not cruel beings, quite the opposite, most were gentle and caring. But they were also beings that were bonded with just one Hylian. So for them to flock around another Hylian? It was unusual.

His soul brothers recognised that oddity as well. Shooting gazes at each other that spoke more words than their actual voices ever would.

Not that Wild noticed. His eyes were glued to the large birds, hand reaching up but not touching. Instead He bent his knees and lowered His head. It was strangely polite and customary. The man had not said anything of similar beings in his era and yet He treated the loftwings with the respect that was taught from young in Sky’s era.

“Let’s go,” Sky said, his voice tight.

It was decided fairly quickly that Wild would join Sky and his Red. It would be his first time on a loftwing after all. The hero nodded in confirmation when asked but kept His eyes on the birds. 

And yet, when they were high up in the air, Wild did not seem panicked or uncomfortable. The man sat loosely behind Sky, not even holding onto anything. In fact, Wild had His eyes closed, a soft open smile on His face. He looked free. As if He belonged in the air just as much as He belonged in the forest. Wild seemed happy. Content. His hair swayed and whipped with the wind, His shoulders slacked. He was relaxed and true.

It was not a description Sky had expected to pop up in his mind. He had seen Wild smile plenty of times, he had seen the man surrounded by nature. In those moments he looked plenty content, if not somewhat wary of their soul brothers. But this was different. 

It was just Sky, Red and Wild up here. 

And apparently, that was enough for that wariness that impacted Wild more than Sky could have ever guessed to fall away. Was it that Red impacted the man so? Or was it the fact that there was just one soul brother surrounding him instead of seven? 

“You’re comfortable with the sky,” Sky sent a grin over his shoulder, to Wild.

The man didn’t open His eyes to see the grin, “I’ve spent plenty of time in the clouds,” Wild signed slowly. His smile was still playing with His features but it had become less relaxed. As if Sky’s voice reminded Him that he was not alone.

Sky tried to not let it affect him, “Your sky islands?”

Wild nodded, “They are peaceful.”

At least they had plenty to share between them, Sky thought with a puff and relief. More than some of the other heroes at least. Both of them had a connection with Hylia, more than just the fact that they had the hero’s soul. They were the only ones that had islands that floated up in the sky. Their Zeldas were just a tad more… More.

His Sun, his darling, the very personification of Hylia. 

Wild’s Zelda, doused in divinity. 

All Zeldas were connected with the Goddess. It was in their blood. But that did not mean all Zeldas had the same bond to that connection. 

It was reassuring to know another Link knew what it was like to have a Zelda that was more. It had scared Sky plenty of times, the moments where his dear Zelda made place for a Goddess, not knowing if his darling would return. It mattered little how much he adored Hylia in those moments. He was but a mere mortal, so was his Sun. In the matters of the all-powerful, their identities were fragile.

Wild knew that too. 

More than any other Link besides Sky.

It was reassuring. And dreadful. Knowing he was not alone in his fear was delightful. But the thought that his soul brother had gone through the same was clenching his heart. Wild hadn’t told them what had happened in His journeys. 

And yet, Sky knew that the other hero knew of that fear of losing their Zelda to something that was more.

He had seen it in the way that Wild’s Zelda floated around, her feet bare on the ground. Her eyes unnatural but mighty. Her voice soft but not singular in a way that was almost not noticeable, but Sky had plenty of experience.

He had seen it in the way that Wild clung to her. Not literally, no. Sky couldn’t imagine Wild clinging to anyone. But in the way His eyes searched for her in every moment, with her every movement. The panic in His eyes when he realised He would have to leave. 

Sky hadn’t felt lonely amidst his brothers before Wild joined them. Neither did he feel like he wasn’t understood. And yet, the knowledge that the hero behind him went through the same fear as him fulfilled something that he hadn’t realised was missing.

--

She had been waiting for them, for him.

Her blond hair swayed, the jewels in it glistened with the sun's rays. Blue eyes, kind and large, focused on Sky with such focus he started blushing. 

Jumping off Red he swiftly made his way towards her, his Sun, his love. She greeted him with open arms, lightly grasping his tunic, slightly trembling. Her sweet scent put his soul to rest. 

Oh, how he had missed her.

“Welcome back,” She whispered warmly. 

“I missed you.”

Her laugh loosened up his heart, lightened his lungs. His Sun, his love and life. 

Sky hadn’t felt lonely amidst his fellow heroes and yet he had in a way only his dear Zelda would ever be able to solve.

“Sky and Sun! Sittin’ in a crow’s nest! K I S S-” Wind started his little chant, just like he did every time any of the heroes met up with their partner. 

Luckily Legend slapped his hand on the teen’s mouth, “Sh’t it,” He hissed. 

Warriors chuckled, “Let the kid.”

“Call I a kid ‘gain!” Wind tried to look mad and intimidating. But the pout and squishy cheeks negated the effect, “I’ll stab ya!”

Twilight took away the knife the teen had already taken out. On the other side of Wind, Four had another knife ready to take.

“I’m delighted to see everyone so chipper,” Sun spoke softly but with authority. The messing around quickly ceased to be with her words, attention shifted to her. Most of them, although comfortable with her, had trouble interacting with Sun. 

She was a Hylian, a Zelda, but she had an aura around her. Gentle and swaying. But it was one that most of the heroes had never really known in their own journeys and eras. But they respected her deeply, like they did with any Zelda. 

“Oh,” Sun inhaled sharply, her gaze settled behind the group. There where Red and some other loftwings stood, was Wild. He was circling around them, careful to not touch but interacting with them all the same. Before any of them could tell her about Him, she was already on her way to the new hero. Sky trailed her closely and assumed the others did too. 

Wild was entranced in some weird dance with Red. He made a movement and the loftwing did it back. Red did something next and Wild copied as best as He could. It was charming to watch. The behaviour was oddly child-like, especially for Wild who kept Himself composed at every moment.

To Sky’s disappointment that behaviour stopped the moment they came close enough. Even with his back to them, He had somehow known. Wild turned around, His eyes were wide, “Hylia?” His voice was tight as if He wasn’t breathing. 

Sky wanted to correct Wild but before he could he felt Sun shift. She was not just herself anymore, no, she was never just Herself anymore. She became less herself. Just for a moment. A very long, scary moment.

Sun, Hylia, She carefully approached Wild. Her delicate hand brushed against His cheek, careful to not touch His scars. The man looked apprehensive but let her. 

“Your soul,” She whispered and it was so much more than just her voice. It was doubled, layered, with not only Hylia but divinity itself. It was that same divinity that had slightly layered Wild’s own Zelda. So very subtle but if you knew it was there, it became impossible to miss.

Wild frowned but it was not because He was confused. No. The man knew what She was talking about. His eyes shifted from Her to Sky and the others behind him. And back to Her. 

She caressed the skin just underneath His eye, “It is old and shattered. Held together by matters not belonging to mortals.”

Again Wild’s eyes shifted to them and back to Her. He inhaled deeply, “Much has happened,” He gently whispered, remorse in His voice, “I admit I did not care well for the hero’s soul.”

“No,” She shook Her head, “It is not in a mortal’s power to damage a soul to this extent.”

Something fundamental in Wild shifted at the words. His shoulders shook and His breathing had become shallow.

But She did not take notice, “What is your name, child?”

Wild opened hHs mouth but nothing came out, his breath shivered. He shook His head ever so slightly. 

“Hero of the Wilds,” Sky didn’t whisper, but it was close. The moment felt fragile. 

She glanced at Sky and smiled, not with the smile that he so loved and desired, “The Hero of the Wilds,” the title felt sacred on Her tongue, “It is not a name you desire,” She observed, “And yet it is one that is connected to your very core.”

“I am no hero,” Wild signed, “I can accept Wild. I will not accept ‘hero of the wilds’.”

The fragility of the moment worsened.

The identity of being a hero was something so very difficult. It was not something that they really spoke about. And if they did, no one admitted their doubt.

“Yet you are,” Her voice was overly kind, almost motherly, “Your presence in this very era is plenty of proof.”

Wild gnawed at His lip, eyes shifting to them again and back, “It is a mistake.”

Sky had to stop himself from gasping. Wild had just told Hylia Herself that She had made a mistake. A literal Goddess. 

“I do not doubt I have made mistakes,” She chuckled and Sky was losing his absolute mind at the fuckery that was happening, “You, my child, are not one of them.”

Wild didn’t look convinced but did not contradict Her. Moreover, He stopped communicating altogether. She told and asked but silence was the only answer She got. Sky tried to help, so did most of his soul brothers. But Wild had shut Himself off. Not like He had before, His mind was still very much present. He still heard them but simply chose to not engage.

It was quite rude.

Somewhat hurtful.

And Sky had a sneaking suspicion that Wild knew that but that he simply didn’t care. Or perhaps he did but not enough to change his behaviour.

When they stopped trying, Wild's posture finally relaxed a bit. His frown lightened just a bit. And before long he had somehow snuck off. Leaving them behind.

Chapter Text

The moon was bright that night. Just not yet full, but close enough for it to be large in the sky. The stones of the houses and streets glinted with the light. She was alone on her night walk. Her dear Link and his companions had taken to their sleep quarters early after the exhausting month cycle they have had. 

All except the newest hero, that was.

He had not joined them for dinner after he had left. They did not know where he was, except for the fact she could feel his energy on the island. Link had asked Fi to help, but to no avail. Some of the heroes had been restless, they wanted to search for him. But Sun had calmed them down. The boy needed his space and she thought him deserving of it. 

It was not often that her mind got pushed aside for the Goddess. And it was even rarer for it to happen to speak to a Hylian. No matter if the individual was a hero or not. And yet it had happened. Her thoughts had become muddled, her world vague. That, for a Hylian.

A hero.

Link had looked conflicted when the new hero had left. So did his companions. But they did not explain it to her, or discuss it among themselves. Their worry was the individual kind. Not something they shared and yet they all possessed. The heroes had never been particularly good at communication. It was a frustration Link had mentioned before but spent sparse time on. He himself was not an ideal example of the skill, after all.

She had seen the problem first-hand before. When they discussed battles and plans. When certain heroes did not tell of their fear of birds and heights. However, she had not seen them so tight-lipped about their worry for one of theirs before.

The hero of the Wilds. 

How curious. He was just one man, a peculiar man, yes. But he was just a Hylian.

A breeze swept her hair back. It made her stop in her tracks, although she did not know why. They lived on islands in the sky, breezes were not unordinary. And yet, there she stood. In the middle of the cobbled street, dim lights and the bright moon on her. 

It was comforting, the silence. The reprieve of others. Sometimes Zelda liked to be alone and lately she had little time to be at peace. The company of only the familiar houses and streets was welcomed. So were the Loftwings high in the sky. The birds were free to slumber when they wanted to and it seemed that this night they wished to soar. Not so unusual for a few, but the number of them did surprise Zelda.

Yet it did not surprise her as much as the sight of a warm flame high up with the birds. It sat beneath a balloon, on top of some platform. 

Zelda called out to her Blue, her precious dear. And was not shocked to see her appear from the flock of Loftwings up with the balloon. 

“Hello, my wings,” She whispered to the bird as Blue gently pushed her head up to Zelda’s shoulder, “Bring me to the flame.”

And so her precious Blue did. They rose up into the dark night, lights below them, the moon and the strange flame meeting them up high. The wind was chilling with the lack of sun, yet Zelda smiled at the biting feeling. It had been so long since she had gone on her own little adventure.

There, on the odd platform with its odd flame, sat a hero she herself had not yet met. Not with her own mind-controlling her body, at least. He was staring at the moon, not yet full, but almost. Eyes wide and glowing in its light. Scars glinting in the cold shine of it. Blond hair free in the breeze and too close to the flame for her comfort.

He had noticed her, she knew by the way his shoulders had tightened the moment Blue had reached his height. But he had not looked at her, paid her presence no mind. It was not behaviour she was used to, most were practically required to acknowledge her presence nowadays. And yet here he sat. The boy that her Link paid special attention to. A hero the Goddess deemed worthy to speak directly to the moment he had appeared.

With careful grace, she stepped off her Blue onto the platform, which was more akin a basket now that she stood on it. The flame was comfortingly warm now that she was so close to it. Sitting down on the weirdly green shiny benches, she found herself to be smiling. Zelda had spent plenty of time in the sky, it was a home just as much as her actual house. But it was always in movement, the Loftwings could not stay adrift on one spot. That was not how most birds worked. With that always came wind and noise. And although pleasant, it was not like this. The weird balloon that hung in the sky as if held by the Goddess herself. 

“We have not met,” Zelda spoke softly. She did not want to scare the poor hero.

She had expected him to disagree, to point out their prior conversation but he did not do anything of that sort. Instead, the hero of the Wilds averted his eyes from the moon to her, “We have not,” He said. His voice scratchy and raw. As if he was on the verge of tears, emotions too immense. But his eyes (Blue and intense, but kind) were dry. 

“I am Zelda,” She smiled, "Although I am called Sun by your companions.”

The hero frowned at that, “That seems unfair,” He murmured and his gaze got called back to the impossible close moon.

She thought it be an odd statement at first. But as she did not respond and the hero kept quiet himself, she mused. Zelda did not dislike her nickname. It was quite lovely, in fact. Neither was she called that very often, only by the heroes.

By her Link.

Sometimes her Link still called her his Zelda. But her name had become sparse on his tongue. It was not that she despaired about it, she thought little of it most of the time. But after visits of her beloved where her name was absent, she laid in bed with sleep evading her. 

“I do not mind,” She broke the silence. And although she did not continue for a long while, the hero did not respond. It was as if he knew she needed the time, “Yet, I have shared my identity for so long. To be called another name besides Zelda or Hylia, it is…” She paused yet again, the words her mind provided her failed to describe the feeling that resided deeply in her very soul.

She hadn’t been just Zelda for such a long time. Neither had she made peace with her connection with Hylia for all that long. 

Still, Link’s new adventure made it so that she was forced to be yet another version of herself. Just another Zelda. Just a part of a relationship so tumultuous and cursed that her very soul would return over and over again. Just as her sweet Link would. Just as that evil identity. 

Just another Zelda in the grand scheme of time.

But that was not entirely true, was it? She was not merely a Zelda. She was the start of it all. Not only the beginning of a reincarnation cycle that would continue for eternity. But together with the Chosen Hero, she was the start of so much more. They, she, would become the origin of the Royal bloodline and thus, Hyrule itself.

The weight of a future she would never experience herself laid heavy on her shoulders. Her Link spoke of beautiful lands, he also told her of harsh times. Springs and autumns. Summers and winters. Of a future they created. And although she enjoyed listening to the stories, she could not help but feel wronged. Zelda would never see those lands they would create. Not like her Link was able to do. She could not join them through the portals, could not live through the adventure that gave her a new name.

The lands Link spoke of, far removed from their time, were so different from theirs. His voice was filled with pride as he spoke of it. The villages and cities were large, he said. There were so many people in most eras. With cultures and traditions. Some worshipped the Goddess, still. Others had not heard about her. But She was present in all of their lands, her presence felt in the smallest of ways. 

Zelda wished she could see it for herself. 

It was a future that relied on her shoulders. One that she had never thought to be hers. She had never been anyone special previously, she was not a princess or the daughter of the village chief. She had been Zelda.

Simply Zelda.

But as time moved on after Demise’s defeat, change followed soon. She was not simply Zelda anymore. Then Link got called away with a dark purple portal and a few heroes. 

It was lonely to be left behind. 

It was heartbreaking to welcome her beloved back and hear his stories. To hear about what they would accomplish as a couple. 

She had not been just Zelda for so incredibly long.

Sun had the future on her shoulders. A kingdom, large and ever-growing, a Royal family. Her future had been decided for her. 

When it got mentioned that Link and her would start the Royal bloodline, it was with giggles and whistles. They thought it to be funny how they knew of their children before Link and Zelda knew themselves. But she felt no such joy. 

Sun was so young.

Zelda had been so young when she lost her individuality. When her life and the future of their world had been thrown into danger. When everything was suddenly on Link and her.

She had been young when Link and she kissed for the very first time, not that long after the defeat of Demise. She had thought it to be lovely, their relationship had been evolving for so long before. Their friendship was comfortable before, precious. It was the danger that had threatened their very lives that made them jump into the dark to be something more than best friends. The knowledge that it could all be over so swiftly was sharp in their minds. So Zelda, and at that moment she had been just Zelda for a moment, had grabbed her beloved’s hand and made him promise to stay.

He just had to stay. But a promise had never been enough before and it was not suddenly going to be.

Hylia called him away. 

Her Link came back as Sky. The chosen hero. And Zelda, just like her Link, was not the only one with that name anymore. She was not singular anymore. So they called her Sun

And Sun was the start of the future. The beginning of what would ultimately become the present for those heroes.

When she had just been a small child, she had little control over her life. That was in the essence of being so young. Especially with the dangers of living in the sky. As she got older it got better, she had freedom at the Knight Academy and on the back of her dear Blue.

That freedom got taken away as Hylia resided in her body alongside her own soul.

After Demise it got better, Hylia slumbered more often than not. She could go back to school. Zelda had the time and freedom to fool around with her lover. She was just a teen with a bit more to her than most.

She hadn’t even thought about children.

Yet, she was told she was going to birth to at least one. Zelda became Sun. And Sun became the first queen that established a whole kingdom and a bloodline.

It took away her freedom in a way that even Hylia did not. Hylia had taken over her body just when she had to. The Goddess did not do anything that would alter the very existence of Zelda. And yet, the presence of the heroes of futures that relied on her, did do that. It was not just her shoulders that bore the weight of their lives. It was her very body, her womb.

But she was still so young.

“I did not know my name when my journey began,” The hero broke the silence, his words echoing across the sky, “It had to be told to me.”

Zelda brushed away tears that she had not realised were spilling, “Link, is it not?”

He did not turn to her, but she could just see enough of his profile to see a soft smile, “Yes. My name is Link,” Now he did turn to her, his eyes so unbearably kind and warm, “And you are?”

She had told him. He knew exactly who she was.

But she did not care, with a genuine open smile and tears spilling she answered, “Zelda.”

“Pleased to meet you, Zelda,” Link’s voice was soft, gentle. A wet chuckle bubbled up from her, it had been so long she truly felt seen.

“Likewise,” She smiled, “It is a lovely evening, is it not.”

Link’s gaze fell back on the moon, “It is,” He agreed, “Peaceful, for once.”

The sky was rarely not peaceful, but she did not tell him that. Zelda knew not of the era of this Link. Not of how it looked, not what dangers lurked. This Link was a mystery to her, she knew only of the love Hylia had for him.

“The Loftwings are intrigued by you,” She said instead. Eyes on the large flock of birds that circled the balloon.

Link glanced at her, his brows furrowed just a bit, “Is it not because I am new?”

She laughed, short but true, her tears slowly became history, “No!” The thought was ridiculous, “They do not care for new Hylians. Only for their bonded one.”

“Then… Why?”

Zelda hummed, her hands on the weird material of the basket, “I can not answer you with certainty, for I am not the one with control over the divinity. But,” She closed her eyes and felt. The wind cold on her exposed skin, the flame warm where she came close to it. The Loftwings, beings gifted to them by the Goddess. And Link. “You're the same as them,” She realised, “Not entirely, of course. You could impossibly be. But both they and you have been touched by the Goddess. You belong to the same space.”

When he said nothing Zelda opened her eyes to find him staring at her. The blue of his eyes conflicted with the cold of the moon and the warmth of the flame. 

“Nature,” Zelda carefully said. Although, she did not know why she had. It was simply that she felt that it was needed.

Link's eyes widened before he scoffed and looked away again, “Hero of the Wilds, huh.”

“But it is more than that,” Zelda prodded, “Do you not know?”

“Can I tell you and trust it to stay just with you?” Link asked with a tight voice, “The heroes do not need to know.”

The heroes.

She paid the odd wording no mind for now, “Of course,” Zelda poured all of the warmth she felt for the man into her words, “I do trust you to keep mine secrets as well,” She could not imagine the hurt her Link would feel if he had to hear about her insecurities and hurt from one of his soul sharers.

Link smiled, still not at her, but she could see it still, “I am quite adept at keeping secrets.”

“I have noticed,” She chuckled, “You are worrying your companions.”

His shoulders sagged at the comment, “I do not belong with them.”

“So you have told Hylia.”

“So I have,” He agreed, “I died.”

The words punched the air out of her lungs. He had said them so casually, he did not even look sad. His gaze was still on the moon, but it had not changed from before. That while Zelda felt like the flame lost its warmth and the Loftwings lost their sound. Her entire reality felt like it had turned on its axis. And Link did not change, at all.

“You-” Her voice was shaking and raspy, she was out of breath and she was only sitting down.

Link looked at her with worry, “I am sorry, I should not have-”

“No,” Zelda interrupted him. How kind this man was to apologise to her when she reacted badly to his misfortune, “You do not have to ask for forgiveness for speaking your truth.”

He lightly shook his head, the smallest of smiles on his lips, “Most in my era know of the fact, I had forgotten it to be shocking.”

“And yet, they do not know?”

Link looked down at his hands. One from flesh and one of metal, how had she not noticed before? “I am not ashamed of dying. The odds had never been on our side.”

She did not like knowing of the future, it took away her freedom of choice. But these were moments that she regretted not knowing something. Zelda wanted to help this man. Not because he was a hero, not because he had the same soul as her beloved. No, it was not for reasons that made actual sense. She wanted to help this stranger because he looked so much like her.

Lonely. Yet surrounded.

But she did not know how to help him, she did not know his story.

“They will not think of you any less,” Zelda tried.

“I failed,” Link shook his head, a wry smile on his face, “Thousands of lives were lost alongside my own.”

She wasn’t sure if she would ever be able to breathe properly again, “The odds were against you, you’ve stated it yourself.” 

Link didn’t respond immediately, his gaze still on his hands, his ears low. He looked defeated. 

“I am no hero,” He murmured after a long while, “I have never been.”

Her first instinct was to deny his claim. To point out the fact that he was here, brought by Hylia with eight other heroes. But she remembered how he shut down with Hylia herself just a few hours ago. How he did not introduce himself as Wild with enthusiasm while most other heroes had done with their own titles. 

She also thought about how she felt when some talked to her like she was the queen already. Someone she was not. A title she could not imagine her ever embracing fully.

“Who are you then?” She asked what she wanted to hear instead.

Link wrung his hands, the one made from flesh turned white from the pressure, “Link,” He forced out, “I always have been just Link. No matter the amount of titles, no matter what was expected of me.”

Tears sprang to her eyes again. Oh, how long it’s been since she had felt recognised.

“Then-” She stopped talking as soon as she began. The conversation had led to something she felt deeply in her soul. But it was a problem she did not know how to solve even for herself. It was not something she could advise Link on. The fact was simply that they could not all be called Link. Even if they deserved it all, to keep their identities.

“I do not mind to be called Wild,” He spoke before she could make up her mind. A warm but small smile was directed at her, “It is simply that I do not want to be called a hero.”

“What do they call you at home?” She asked before she thought about it.

A slight blush crept up on Link's ears, “Plenty,” He cleared his throat, “I do not want to bore you.”

And Zelda could not help but giggle, “I do not think any version of your soul could bore me.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Link’s smile was soft and familiar. 

The silence that followed was comfortable. High up with the Loftwings, the pleasant cold of the night sky and the warmth of the flame. Which was from a campfire she realised. Odd.

“This device,” Zelda looked at the benches, the railings, the balloon itself. They were green and shining. Odd, “Where did you find it?”

Link shrugged his shoulders, “Made it from Zonai charges,” He said if that made any sense to her, “I lost my arm at the start of my second quest and got a replacement from a past Zonai king.”

Zelda nodded, eyes slightly wide, “That makes sense.”

He obviously disagreed but did not comment, “With his arm I got powers. When my quest ended I lost most of the arm.”

Ah. The metal arm.

“Most?”

Link didn’t answer her, instead, he took the object at his hip and with a few taps his cape disappeared in blue lights. His bright blue tunic now fully on display, its incredible details finally getting the attention they deserve. But it was his metal arm that pulled her eyes most. It was gold and intricate. Slightly glowing symbols were etched into the metal and between the plates green pulsed through. She had thought it would reach his shoulder but she was proven wrong. The metal crept up to the upper half of his bicep but ended there with a padded material. Above it his arm was not the same colour of flesh.

She looked up at Link’s gaze with curious eyes, “The Zonai king’s arm?”

He nodded, “A remnant,” With a push on his special object the arm hissed and released itself from Link. What was left was an appendage that started just above where his elbow should have been. Although very tin and obviously irritated and dry. He pushed up his sleeve to show how the green-like colour of skin stretched out into odd symbols, “As a result, I still have his powers. Although, less powerful.”

“And this,” Zelda waved to the balloon, “Is one of your abilities?”

Link shrugged, “Sort of, yes.”

“How intriguing.”

“It has given me freedom beyond my dreams,” Link leaned far over the railing, his gaze gliding from the moon to the Loftwings to the lights of houses far below them, “It’s not incredible like your bonded ones, but with it I can fly.”

Her heart felt tight but the hurt was lovely. Since it was not a hurt that existed purely out of pain. No, it hurt because she recognised a part of her soul in his words. A part that had been nurtured from the moment she had bonded with her dear Blue, that had its wings clipped as her life took turns she had not wished upon herself.

This Link of a future far beyond her imagination had recognised her in a way that she had so desired before. He saw her not as Sun and not as Hylia. But as Zelda. And it hurt how glad she was. 

It hurt how overwhelming it was to be seen.

To be understood.

“Thank you, Link.”

He looked over his shoulder, his body still largely hanging out of the basket. He looked confused. It was quite adorable and the realisation that he had given her such comfort without his knowledge hit her hard. This man was so incredibly kind. It pained her to see him so isolated from his companions.

“My Link would love you dearly, if you gave him the chance,” Zelda smiled, tears pricking in her eyes, “We adore the same people, after all.”

But the man did not make it easy, he looked away from her again, eyes back to below, “You are too kind.”

“I am truthful.”

His shoulders sacked, “We should get off, the balloon will disappear shortly.”

It was an obvious distraction, an attempt to run away. But it was also a successful one at that. As he had finished his sentence the balloon above their heads had started blinking and Link was already making his preparations to leave. His metal arm quickly back on his appendage and with some taps on his magic object he changed clothes. His blue tunic making place for an owl suit with plenty of lovely tassels.

“Race you?” He smirked when she had just gotten on her lovely Blue.

She was perplexed but her curiosity had been sparked, “You’re on,” She grinned. To her utter horror but amazement the man laughed shortly before he plunged into the dark of the sky just after the balloon dissolved into sparks of green, “Blue!” She spurred on her dear to go after the crazy man. A crazed smile on her face as the icy wind watered her eye and whipped around her hair. The thrill was exhilarating. It had been so long since she had done anything to the likes of this. 

Below her Link was still diving inhumanly fast but he had control over his movements. The weird suit he had on shifted with the breeze, it made him one with the sky in the same way her Blue carried the current.

Hero of the Wilds. 

She laughed loud and free. Oh how the name fit him so well. How he belonged with the Loftwings, with the sky! How he loved and cared for strangers and loved ones in the same manner forests did for seeking deer. The caution he had for the unknown, for ones that would be able to hurt him and his loved ones. Similar to the rabbits that hid in their burrows low below them on the surface.

Free in a way that she envied.

Caged in his role of a hero to an extent that felt torturous.

He was not one who shared her soul, yet she felt as if he knew her as if they did. Perhaps it was because their souls would forever be connected. It could be the connection both of them had with Hylia. Whatever it was, she could not help but scream with excitement as Blue and she dived almost unbearably fast towards the ground.  

And it was no matter to her that she lost their little diving competition. Zelda had won something so much greater. 

“Goodnight, Link,” She bid him farewell with the truest smile she had worn in some time. 

The bounce in her step as she made her way back to her quarters felt unfamiliar but so very welcome. Her room was silent but for the breathing of her Link and her heart leapt out of her chest.

Her beloved, back in her bed. Where he belonged.

Zelda had been so lonely for so long but as she joined her Link beneath the covers of wool she felt warm and content.

She had lost plenty.

But her connection with her beloved, her dear Link, that she would never lose. 

“I love you, my Link,” She whispered in his hair.

And to her surprise, her beloved had been just awake enough to respond, although slurred and mumbled with sleep.

“Love you too, Zelda.”

Chapter Text

The sun was close. 

The rain hit her harshly before she moved out of the way.

Someone whispered regrets.

Sonia’s hug felt like her mom's. Oh, how she missed- who? Who did she miss?

Snow gathered on the lands below her.

Annoyance filled her heart, why him? Picture perfect blond hair, a proud lineage. The sword comfortable in his hands while she could not fulfil her expectations.

What expectations?

Her skin rippled with the wind, oh how she enjoyed the feeling.

An evil being woke up again far below, but it was not the evil she was supposed to defeat. How did she know? She could not tell.

Pressure on her head.

Warmth around her as she got hugged, fur-like arms tickled her nose and she sneezed. 

Coldness. She lost someone again. But who? 

The apologies were back. If only she could weep along with them.

The beings below played their silly war games, they painted the grass red and she couldn't care less. It had been so very long since she belonged with them.

Ah, an event that she already had lived through happened. It was an odd feeling, recognising her soul somewhere on the very earth. Even if it was not the exact version she remembered.

Remember what?

Rumbling, she descended.

Ocean stretched as far as she could see, the air had turned into salt. Boats and creatures were small. Seagulls were forever loud.

A voice, she missed it so. How long had it been since she heard it? How long must she go on to hear it- him again? Must she traverse the skies till the end of time, would that be enough? Would She grant her that wish? Would She finally answer her prayers instead of his?

The lands, dead. He would mourn.

He?

A warm, large hand on her so very small head with too much hair. The empty platitudes of a mother hurt more than most.

A mother.

The queen? Urbosa? Or was it Sonia?

She did not know anymore. The women merged into one and before long they disappeared yet again. Skies filled her mind.

Sky islands.

Adventurous birds that flew higher than they were supposed to. A particular one settled on her head often, cooing softly. Bonded in another life.

There.

A soul, not one she shared, and yet she knew. But why did she know it, who was it? Gone again.

She missed. 

Her tears escaped her and with it, the feeling of loss intensified. She did not remember but she felt. And it hurt.

Sorry.

I’m so sorry.

Come back.

-a, please come back!

Her head hurt. When had the regrets and apologies turned into pleas? And to whom? She had always been one with the clouds and sun rays, why would anyone beg her to return? 

It went away again. 

The lands were so very quiet for so long. She slumbered in the peace. Ah, how she had prayed for such silence for so long. It was a wonder She gave it to her after all this time.

How long had it been?

Her soul. The one she felt most connected to. It was there, wavering and in pain, but it was there. Pulsing and existing. What had happened, again? It felt like torture. It had been endless. Where was he? How long would he keep her waiting? She could not hold on for so much longer and it hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. He wouldn’t come and it hurt. Pins and needles got stuck in her flesh and his wounds were not closing, not fast enough. Did the shrine fail? Would she die alone and senseless? It hurt. It hurt. It hurt. 

His eyes opened.

He did not even know his name.

It hurt.

Oh.

It was gone again, what had she been thinking? 

Ah, how nice the breeze was so close to the ocean. The spiral beneath her satisfied her keen sight. Salt tickled her nose.

Pressure on her head.

Pleasant conversation with tea when the weather was nice. A father she loved, another mother who died.

Who was she again?

Not her mother, no. That question she had left behind millennia ago. No, who was she? Her time spent in skies, whether stormy or blue. Lands below her ever-changing. Souls she had been popping up alongside souls she recognised. Just for them to disappear just as fast.

Why was she here?

Dinraal. How did she know the name? Why did she recognise him? They did not talk, they merely crossed paths. 

Why did they not speak?

Could she speak?

She missed him. She wanted to talk to him. Where was he? Had he woken up yet? Had he learned his own name, had he learned her name?

It hurt.

Pressure on her head. Her heart empty and aching.

When was he going to find her?

And why did she need to be found?

Hylia, why?

“Zelda,” A hand on her shoulder, she looked up, tears streamed down her face. She had shoulders. She had a face to cry on, “How long have you been sitting here?” Purah’s eyes narrowed with concern. Zelda remembered the day she was born.

No, how could she? Purah was older.

No. Zelda was older. Was she?

Her friend crouched down next to her, “Zelda,” Her voice was thick, “You have to take care of yourself.”

But she had been?

Oh. She looked down and it was that pond again. The one next to her house. The water clear and had it risen?

Had rain come by and had she not noticed?

“Where is he?” Her voice was rough and it hurt. But she had been hurting for so long already that she did not notice. 

Purah’s expression fell even further, “I do not know.”

She did not want that answer.

Was he with the ever-going ocean? Or the lands that died and stayed that way for so very long? Perhaps he was surrounded by peace and quiet? 

Her heart quickened, the options were plenty. Where was he? When was he coming back? Had he woken up already? Did he remember her?

He did not know his own name.

But it hurt, she had been fighting for so long already. The castle was cold and with only evil accompanying her, she felt so alone. Souls of her friends screamed for her and him from the corners of the lands she failed. She wanted her mom.

Who?

Ah, all of them had died. 

Her soul-

“Zelda!” Someone shook her shoulders. 

That was her name.

Was it?

“Where is he?”

“Come inside,” The woman (a friend?) begged, her voice thick, “Please, Zelda.”

She looked down. 

Ah, the pond.

It was where she met heroes that she had seen before. Where she could not recall, but their souls had been so very familiar. Bonded ones. In a way.

They took him from her. 

“He will come back,” She whispered, staring at the calm waters. Ah, it had started raining. “He needs to.”

Purah, that was her name, tried to pull her up but Zelda’s heart was heavy.

It hurt.

When was he coming back?

She had been fighting alone for so long.

Chapter Text

Stupid Legend. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid! Wind rubbed at his arm, it hurt! He didn’t care that Legend was angry for being woken up in the middle of the night. There was something floating in the sky! As high as those birds! And Legend didn’t even look! It wasn’t Wind’s fault that he was rooming with Legend. What should he have done?! Go to the only other room in this dumb hallway? Sky’s and Sun’s room?! Yeah. No. He was not opening that door.

No way.

He would rather eat Hyrule’s food.

The bruise on his arm wasn’t very bright yet, but the fact that it was there at all was so irritating! Stupid stupid stupid Legend. 

The pink haired idiot was still sleeping and breakfast was about to be served up. And Wind was not going to wake him. That would teach him. AND! He was going to steal Legend’s dessert that evening! Ha! Take that, stupid multiple quest shithead!

His mood didn’t get any better, not even the thought of food helped. The hallways were confusing him, too many turns and crossings. But he didn’t feel all too bad. Sky told him he didn’t know his way well either. Something about him and Sun being gifted this fancy almost castle-like house when the village found out about the future. Pretty ridiculous, Wind found. Why would anyone want to live in such a large stone prison? Give him his wooden boat and Wind would die happy!

But no, no boats. Flying and open skies instead. How fun.

Oh and don’t forget the stupid cold walls! Grey and stone and cold and ugh! They all looked the same to Wind. Even the tapestries were the same! And he didn’t even know if he was closer to the dining room or his own stupid sleeping quarters. And he hadn’t come across any servants, so he couldn’t even ask for directions.

Stupid thing before the moon. Stupid Legend. Stupid cold halls. Stupid stupid stupid stupid stupid-

A giggle.

And it was one he knew! That was Sun! A smile bloomed on Wind’s face. He had found his way! He had defeated the maze of stone and ugly carpets on the wall! Victory!

His excitement was not too large for him not to notice that the door blocking Sun was not the diner room. It also wasn’t her room, so it wasn’t like Wind just walked one big circle. So he wasn’t sure where he was exactly. Eh, what did it matter? Sun could help him either way. 

But as he laid a hand on the slightly ajar door he halted. Someone was with Sun. That wasn’t the halting fact, of course there was someone with her. She was laughing and talking. So if Sun hadn’t lost her marbles since the last time Wind had seen her, he expected Sky to be with her. He had never heard Sun that carefree with anyone except the chosen hero after all. She was somewhat stern and cold with the lot of them.

Yet.

It wasn’t Sky but another voice he recognised that responded to her with low laughter. His heart halted just as much as his movement. That laugh.

The second day they had met, they came across a field, empty and vast except for some ruins. There had been a battle there, so they were told. But their narrator had grown still and haunted. Only when Wind poked through his bubble with humour did he go back to normal. With laughter and tears in his eyes. 

Since then... When had Wild laughed that freely again? A few times, yes. Short and rare. But they had been travelling together for about three weeks now, he should have been familiar with the sound by now.

And yet, the low breathy laugh he heard alongside Sun made his heart feel heavy.

“Explain to me,” Sun was still laughing softly, a smile in her voice, “Just what would compel you to eat a frog?” Her voice shook as she tried to remain composed, “I cannot fathom why you would!”

Wild chuckled, “My Zelda is a curious woman.”

He was speaking.

Wind’s hand on the door balled up, his nails pierced his palm. 

“Are you suggesting she asked you to eat it?” Sun practically wheezed out the words. Somehow she still sounded just as graceful as always.

“I am,” Wild’s voice was warm. And it wasn’t the first time Wind had heard it be that warm. But still, it was different than before. He sounded comfortable. At peace. Something that he hadn’t ever been with them, not to that extent, “You would like her.”

A soft sigh, “I am certain I would,” She paused and Wild let the silence be. Not because he was unwilling, like he was with them. But because he was patient, “It’s a shame,” Sun sounded sad, “I have been tasked with a destiny larger than myself. And yet I am not to bear the fruits of it. Not in the way my beloved can.”

Huh?

Wind’s mouth was agape, his eyes wide. What were they talking about? When had they even met after they talked yesterday, long enough for Sun to be so open? Wind had met Sun plenty of times, they came back to SkyLoft pretty often after all (Hylia had favourites, even if Sky always denied it). But she had never said anything like that before. No. She asked about them, of course, but never said anything about herself! 

(But Wind hadn’t asked her anything either, did he?)

“Do you want to meet her?” Wild’s voice was soft and comforting. Even with all its scratches and rawness. “My Zelda, I mean.”

What?

“What?” Sun echoed his thoughts.

Wild cleared his throat and it sounded painful, “Hylia confirmed my theory when I talked to her. We can go meet her, with the help of your precious bonded ones, that is.”

It was silent for quite a bit. And Wind was thankful for it.

Wild’s Zelda? Here? 

Huh?

That didn’t make any sense. Like none at all. They had tried to bring others along, holding their hands when stepping through the portals. But nope. Those sails had not been strung tight. So how the actual fuck did Wild bring his Zelda along? She hadn’t even been at Kakariko!

“How?”

Sun! Asking the real questions, again!

Wild hesitated, “My-” His voice cracked, “It is a long story.”

“Aren't yours always?” Fondness filled her voice.

“I suppose,” And he laughed.

Again.

He hummed, “My Zelda, well, it would be easier to show than to explain,” Wild sighed, “Her very existence has been a sacrifice.”

Well. At least Wild still talked in riddles even to Sun. Wind was glad that the other hero didn’t do it on purpose with them. 

“Will you bring me to her?” 

“Of course.”

Chairs screeched on the tiles and Wind should scuttle away, hide from them and pretend like he hadn’t heard anything at all. Let Wild believe he was as sneaky as he thought himself to be. Give him room to open up on his own time. 

But Wind wanted to get to know the man.

Wild was so cool. He had thought it from day one. But he shut Wind out. Kindly and carefully, always. And obviously in a way that he hoped that Wind wouldn’t notice it. He promised to tell stories in the future. Let Wind use him as a horse when his feet got tired but he never initiated conversation. He smiled and encouraged Wind to talk and talk and talk. And that worked! 

All of it worked!

Wind did keep talking! He did believe in the future stories and he appreciated the help! But he also knew that it was how Wild kept him far enough to keep himself safe but close enough for it not to be that noticeable.

But Wind did notice.

He wasn’t blind. 

And he was sick of it. He hadn’t been that annoyed just ten minutes ago. But that was when he thought Wild to be slow to open up. Or even naturally that mysterious and gloomy. But he wasn’t! He was laughing and chuckling. He carried his heart in his voice and Wind couldn’t even remember any conversation where Wild only talked. And he didn’t mind the signing! Whatever Wild needed for him to be comfortable was all good to Wind.

But- he was jealous.

And he felt guilty.

What had Sun done to receive Wild’s vulnerability? His voice and laughter? His story? And what had their group done for Wild to shut them down? No, that was a stupid question. They had done plenty wrong. But Wind was mostly innocent in those mishaps! It wasn’t fair!

So he stayed rigid in front of the door, his shoes filled with stones and his heart low in his belly. Even when Sun’s and Wild’s eyes got wide with surprise.

“I want to meet her too.”

It surprised Wind how steady his voice was. 

Sun’s eyes shifted from him to Wild with concern, her mouth slightly agape, “Link-”

She called him Link? She had never called any of them that, except Sky of course. 

Wild was quiet for a while, his eyes steady but tumultuous. 

“I’m sorry fo’ eavesdroppin’!” He blurted out when Wild kept quiet too long, “I s’lookin’ for the dinin’ and I- I- s’halls are just so dumb and the lot of them look the same and I- fuckin’ hell- Sorry for cursin’, Sun! But I just kept walkin’ and walkin’ and walkin’ and! Then I heard Sun and I just wante’ help. But then I heard ye, Wild! And ya were laughin’! And I have heard ye laughing before, but- which is always great to hear, by the way! But- ye just kept laughin’! So much more than I ever heard ye do before and ye kept talkin’ even when yer voice started soundin’ more rough. Not that t’is unpleasant! Please don’t stop talkin’ because ye think yar voice is annoyin’- of course ya should stop when it starts hurtin’- but! I just-”

A hand going through his hair stopped him dead in his tracks.

Somewhere in his mumbles, he had closed his eyes as he just kept talking and talking. So he had not noticed anyone coming closer.

When he opened them, eyes upwards, he was met with a soft smile and kind blue eyes. Even the scars on his face looked gentle. 

“She would love to meet you,” Wild almost whispered and Wind could not help but feel tears prick in his eyes.

“Really?”

“Really.”

Wild’s hand was rough, he could feel the thick scarring even on his head. But Wind didn’t care. It was so soft. 

“Sorry for eavesdroppin’,” He muttered, emotions thick.

Sun kneeled before him, and normally Wind would hate that. He was small but goddamnit, he was not a kid. But the gentleness in her eyes made him not care. She took his hands carefully in hers and smiled, “Although naughty, I forgive you,” Sun giggled, “You could have entered though, you would have seen you found the kitchen instead of the dining room.”

Wind sniffed, “Oh.”

The moment Wild lifted his hand away Wind already missed the weight of it, “We should go, I do not know her exact location for long.”

Sun smiled at him and led them with few words to the Loftwing barn. Not that Wind knew for sure that it was called a barn. The only barns he had seen anyway were Time and Malon’s and Twilight’s. What even were the criteria of a barn? Big wooden structure for animals? Wheat?

The blue bird of Sun skipped its way to them. Its beak terrifyingly large, eyes big. Horrifying.

“Link,” Zelda put a hand on Wild’s shoulder, “Shall I take Wind with me and Blue?”

Wild nodded, “I can manage.”

Okay. HUH.

How the fuck did they communicate? Wind thought back to the conversation he had heard and the confusion grew. One of them made a statement or asked something. And the other one just asked or stated something different. But somehow they continued, knowing all too well what the other meant. Like, that wasn’t how that was supposed to work! 

But. It did remind him of something.

But what?

Sun helped him get up on the beast.

“Wild-” He wanted to ask how Wild was going to follow them without a bird but he just- no.

He didn’t even know what the fuck he was seeing.

On the ground, multiple weird objects appeared in blue strings. They were odd and they were of metal. And Wind was so very very very confused.

But that only got way worse when Wild’s metallic arm started goddamn glowing and with barely a flick of his finger, the weird objects flew up to connect into… something. Somehow!

“How curious,” Sun murmured from before him, “I had not imagined it to work so. Why is it not sickly green?” 

Wind’s eyes got impossibly large. What was she saying? What the fuck was going on?!

Wild hummed as he went through his pad, “That was made of Zonai charges, these are authentic.”

Huuuuuuuh?

“Ah,” She hummed, “I suppose that makes sense.”

But Wind had to disagree. Because no, it didn’t make any fucking sense? It made even less sense.

In more strings of blue Wild’s clothing changed. Into… something.

“Why are ye naked?” Wind asked before he could stop himself, “And why are ya wearing Cucco feathers as a crown?”

Well, the hero wasn’t technically naked. He was wearing a weird halter thingy with a necklace. Leaving most of his chest bare. Showing all the scars he had and Wind had never realised before how many there were. Neither did he know that the metal arm didn’t go higher up than his bicep. Or that the skin of that arm was green. Or that he had weird symbols on his shoulder. Odd. The skirt was odd. And the boots were oddly high. And a feather crown… okay, what the fuck?

“Makes my Zonai batteries go on longer.”

Fucking hell.

That explained fucking NOTHING.

“The mask is rather extreme, is it not?” Sun hummed, “And I have to agree with Wind, the feathers appear to be Cucco.”

Wild just shrugged and before anyone could ask more about the ridiculous outfit, Wild stilled. It was obvious and jarring. His face had closed off so quickly that Wind wondered if it ever had been open. His gaze was on the sky. With a swift movement and a glowing arm, he moved the creation swiftly. And if Wind got any time before Sun’s bird suddenly took off he would’ve screamed about all the abilities Wild had been hiding in his hand (literally).

But he hadn’t.

They were already soaring through the air, at much higher speeds than he had ever experienced before. Somehow Wild was too. On that weird creation with turning wheels at the front and back and a steering wheel looking thing in the middle. That was somehow flying.

Somehow.

Wind was pretty sure that he had started hallucinating sometime that morning. There was no other logical explanation at that point. He should’ve known the moment he heard Wild acknowledge he ate a frog. Because his Zelda asked him to do it.

Or maybe it was the height that made him lose his fucking mind?! The air was becoming pretty fucking thin by now! And they kept on rising and rising and oh fucking Godesses. The clouds were now far beneath them. He never wanted to see the ground from so far up. And yet! Here he was!

How was Wild’s Zelda supposed to be up here? When even the bird seemed to struggle.

He closed his eyes and hung on close to Sun, her erratic heartbeat somehow grounding. It was welcoming. Wind wasn’t supposed to be in the sky, no matter what his name suggested. He belonged on solid and rocking grounds. Sand and wood. Not the back of some cursed bird, high up. It was cold and the wind was not one he was familiar with. Different from the ones that collided with the open waters.

“Oh,” Sun’s voice shook just like her entire body. The bird suddenly started flying much more calmly and steadily. They had stopped ascending but a heavy air current made them tremble, “Curse Hylia.”

The shock of those words forced Wind to open his eyes.

Somehow the world stopped for moments, non existent music trembled around him. And a creature he had never imagined to exist flew not so far away from them. 

Beautiful.

Haunting, somehow.

The dragon was impossibly large, stretching far beyond Wind’s sight. Curving and sliding through the sky as if it commanded the very existence of it. Pale scales that reflected the light, iridescent almost. Blinding. Blue crystals as vibrant as Wild’s very eyes popping up on its back. All along to the front and to the tail, one that was spiked and rough, existing of the same material as the blue stalagmites. 

Wild motioned for them to come closer before he suddenly jumped off the creation he had made. Abandoning it to the abyss that was the clear blue skies. He had changed his outfit yet again, now a purple owl suit. It made him agile in the sky. And before long, Wild stood on the back of the dragon.

Sun’s evil bird brought them closer to the creature and Wild. He held out his hand to them. Sun did not hesitate at all, and before Wind could even blink she stood next to Wild, on the dragon. Her hands already carefully on the crystals.

He supposed he should do the same.

Wild’s calloused hand was as grounding as it had been before. But they were so high up and Wind belonged not here but far down below, where his sea was supposed to be. 

The scales were surprisingly not very slippy. And it was not as curved as he had feared. The dragon was very big, he supposed. 

The hero of the Wilds motioned them to follow him again. And it did not escape Wind that he hadn’t said anything since they departed. Slowly they made their way to the front, it was clear that Wild wanted to go faster. He was somehow so very familiar with the curves of the creature.

Something daunting started creeping up on Wind. He was missing something and he knew it. Something huge. Something that would explain so much about Wild.

The music he was hearing was gentle. Slow. Peaceful. But it was not literal music. No, it was something he was feeling, something that influenced him. Similar to how Wild made him feel at moments. The same moments where the more magic inclined members of the chain looked panicked and unsure of what to do.

So so similar. But different.

Dragons, they were immortal, were they not? Is that how Wild knew this majestic existence? Did he meet it in his era? Was he familiar with it for that reason?

Why would his Zelda be here?

What was Wind missing? 

The music- the feeling, it felt like it was longing for something. Waiting for someone. And he recognised it- where has he felt such aching before?

Wild’s hand brushed alongside every stalagmite they passed, soft and gentle. Sometimes he stopped to collect something at the base of them before it disappeared with blue strings that were similar to the crystal of the dragon. He started moving faster and Wind could see why, they were coming close to the head and-

Oh.

Oh no.

Long familiar blond manes flowed through the wind. Wispy and soft. Wind’s breath caught. The same brilliantly blue crystals from her back peeked through the blond. But instead of stalagmites, they curved and flowed into horns. Reminiscent of branches. 

Horns Wind had seen before. 

He stopped in his tracks, his heart beating harder than it had in a long while. Wild didn’t notice. No, the man was too close to his destination for him to care about such things. And Wind did not feel offended. He couldn’t. Not when he was pretty sure that his fears would become true.

Next to him, Sun took his hand, her eyes unbearably sad. Yet a smile graced her face, “You have met her before, right?”

“How?” He choked it out. Words failed him, his body felt heavy. His heart ached.

Sun simply shook her head and pulled him towards where Wild disappeared into the hair of her.

Wild was sitting down, his clothes changed again. His normal blue tunic again. But his hair flew freely, it was not something he ever did around them. 

“I brought you some company,” Wild was smiling but it was empty. His hand went comfortably through her fur, “Zelda, meet Zelda and Link.”

Wild’s Zelda had been such a strange woman. Her behaviour was disjointed and a bit erratic, but she looked so sad to Wind. Even when she threatened them. But she was kind and warm in a way all Zelda’s were. The way she looked at Wild was… Wind didn’t know the right word. He wasn’t sure it had a description. She seemed happy but sad. Excited but filled with dread. Her eyes kept apologising but thanking Wild.

Desperate.

The music he felt deep in his soul, the music that didn’t actually exist, now he knew why he found it to be familiar. It was the same aching feeling her eyes were filled with.

Those eyes, he hadn’t really thought about them much after they left her behind at Hateno. But Wild had the same look in his, the same curve in his eyebrows as he stared at the dragon beneath them. The same music that called out to anything- anyone. Deep from his soul and desperate. And it hit him. Why Wild spoke the way he did. Why Sun could follow it without issue. Why it always felt like Wild said so much more than his actual words.

Wild and his Zelda were alike.

In so much more than the hurt in their eyes.

“Fun to meet ye ‘gain,” Wind smiled with too many teeth, unnaturally and forced, “Yer Wild’s been a real nuisance,” It was difficult to sound happy. Tears threatened him and he cursed every goddess. He barely knew the woman. So why did his heart feel so tiny and why was the hurting so much larger?

Wild smiled but did not look up, “You probably want to chastise Wind, don’t you,” His touch was so gentle. As if she would break. As if she was not an immortal being that was above them all, “You’ll have to wait for a bit, I’m afraid.”

Sun’s hand, still in his, shook. And looking up, Wind saw her crying.

He had never seen someone else's Zelda cry.

It hurt as much as seeing his own Tetra cry.

“She is warm,” Sun, even while crying, was so very gentle in her words.

Wild nodded slightly before slowly getting up, his hair longer than Wind thought. He looked to his side, blocking whatever it was with his own body. His shoulders slumped.

“Why is she here?” Sun walked closer to Wild, still pulling Wind along, “Both of them.”

Before he could ask what she meant, his question had already been answered when Wild moved slightly aside.

The master sword.

In the dragon’s head.

In Zelda’s head.

It was glowing blue and gold. It was damaged in a way he had never seen before. Not even when it chipped away in Wild’s hands that one night at the campfire. It was hurt and it had never looked so frail and tiny before. But the beginning of brilliant light was coming from it. From gold to blue. The colour of her manes faded into the brilliance of her horns. Fragile but beautiful.

Healing.

“Our second quest,” Wild shrugged as if it was no big deal. As if it didn’t matter.

And what the fuck. Wind felt how he was starting to shake and it scared him. Wild looked the same as every other moment. As he had just informed Wind what he would make with the bad quality food they had obtained. With a shrug that said that he would do his best to make it somewhat fine.

“Wild,” He couldn’t help the shake in his voice, the clear upset in it, “D’s she look like that ‘cause of this?” Wind hoped his question made more sense to Wild than to himself.

“Yes.”

Sun frowned slightly as she looked from Wild to Wind and back, “I assume the loss of your arm is connected.”

He nodded, “Just as I have remnants, so does she.”

Wind carefully pulled his hand from Sun. He felt a little sick. It was too much. And he couldn’t say why. All of it? 

The air that was so very thin, his lungs desperate for so much more of it. The intense feeling that came from her. The music and it’s emotions. The memory he had of her tortured words and her sad incredible eyes. He recognised it but also not. She felt divine and so much more and the shallow breaths he was already taking worsened. The wind was loud and strong. Sun was still crying. Silently and calmly. But she looked so sad and he felt so sad.

And Wild.

Oh fuck. Wind didn’t know what to feel. Wild just stood there. Even if he was upset, you could see it in his eyes. But he didn’t cry. He didn’t scream. He wasn’t walking around with overflowing feelings like Wind was. No, he just dealt with it. He looked comfortable and as if he belonged up here. With his Zelda.

Wind was pacing around the sword. On dragon Zelda’s head. Oh goddesses.

“Yer Zelda,” Wind was audibly panicking, his voice cracking and wavering and filled with tears, “She’d been a dragon in yer time, yea?” He got a nod as an answer, “How much time did ye spend up ‘ere? Talkin’ to ‘er?”

He shrugged.

“ Wild. I need to know. Please. ”

The hero started looking concerned, “A few hours, a few sun cycles,” He hesitated a bit, his hand gently touched the sword and he sighed, “A moon cycle. When I found out about her,” He signed the last bit. The only sign that the truth impacted him just as much.

Wind thought he wanted to know more about Wild. He wanted to know why Wild was the way he was. Just like he puzzled the other heroes together piece by piece. Not that they were completed. But he had the corners and the borders. Wild’s erratic puzzle pieces had never connected before.

But now.

Now he could see some connections. And he didn’t like it. He hated it.

It wasn’t a pretty puzzle. None of them were, you couldn’t be a hero of Hylia and have a clean story of sunshine. But this? No…

“Oh sweetheart,” Sun gingerly put her arm around Wild, “Both of you have suffered under Hylia’s cruelty.”

Wild didn’t agree but he also didn’t disagree. He just frowned, his eyes portraying something that Sun seemed to translate just fine. That while Wind could not even begin to try. 

What was it that Wind was doing wrong?

What was it that made him feel so choked and panicked? He could finally get to know Wild. He could finally begin to understand what made the man stop in his track and lose himself to demons only he could see. But Wind was the one that was retreating into himself instead.

What the fuck. How the fuck. 

Wind could not possibly imagine himself just standing on top of a majestic creature that turned out to be Tetra. He would never be able to be calm and collected like Wild. Could never just talk about it without his voice failing him and his body locking up.

But Wild could.

How?

Why was he not breaking down? What strength kept him going?

“Will you visit her,” Wild smiled at Sun, “When I am not around?”

The smile she returned to Wild was warm but shaky, “Of course. She is of my kin, after all.”

How were they able to do that?

“How’r ye so calm?” His heart betrayed his common sense.

Wild and Sun both looked surprised, eyes a bit wide. 

“We’re on a darn dragon. Yer Zelda!” He pointed at Wild, “Yer reincarnation!” At Sun, “How’r are ye not freakin’ out?!”

Sun’s arm fell down, releasing Wild who was already moving towards Wind. His face contorted and open. And oh, he was so worried about Wind. He kneeled before him and Wind almost wanted to cry about not being a child. But Wild’s arms were already around him, tight but careful. 

The tears started streaming before he could stop them.

He imagined Tetra as a dragon, in a sky millions of years before their own time.

He imagined finding that out. 

“How’r you so fine,” Wind found it difficult to talk. His throat felt impossibly tight, “She’s ‘ere! Why is yer Zelda here?”

He absentmindedly noticed that Wild had started rocking them slightly. Rubbing calming patterns on Wind’s back. His voice soft as he murmured sweet nothings.

It only made him cry even more.

He imagined showing another Zelda and another Link his Tetra. A dragon in another era. He imagined the other Link starting to cry and he couldn’t imagine having the strength to comfort him.

It was Wild’s Zelda they were standing on though.

It was Wild comforting Wind as he sobbed into the blue tunic. 

The divine energy of the dragon was comforting but upsetting at the same time.

“Wind,” Wild raked through his hair, “She will be okay,” He shushed.

But his heart didn’t stop aching.

“But-” He hiccuped through his tears, “She-”

“Will have visitors,” Wild interrupted him, “And she will someday return to her own era, to me.”

Sun had come closer, Wind noticed when she put her delicate hand on his head, “Don’t feel like your empathy is bad. Your tears and worries are kind and warm.”

His breath stuttered. 

“If there is one truth,” Wild pulled away a bit so he could look into Wind’s eyes. A smile on his face, “It is that Zelda is strong,” Behind Wild Sun smiled ruefully, her eyes similarly filled with tears. Her hand tightened just a bit on Wind’s shoulder, “She will be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

But what about Wild? Who did he allow to take care of him?

--

When Zelda flew closest to Skyloft so far below them, they went back. Wind with Sun. Wild, like the absolute nut case he was, just jumped and fell towards the ground. And Sun didn’t even look surprised.

He had a headache. And his eyes felt heavy.

It had been a pretty long time since he cried. Wind missed his grandmother, she would make him her famous soup to cheer him up. Maybe he could ask Twilight to make his pumpkin soup. It was decent.

“Hey Wind,” Sun didn’t look at him, “Thank you.”

“What for?”

She didn’t answer him. And he didn’t know if it was because the wind stole away his words or not.

--

Legend was in their room when Wind entered. Tears started escaping again. 

He didn’t know why.

Wind stopped crying back up on Zelda’s head. But the moment he parted with Wild and Sun when they got back on Skyloft, he started again. Sobs bubbling up in shocks. No matter how hard he tried to stop them.

“Leg,” He shut the door with too much force. 

“WIND!” Legend was ready to start continuing shouting but the moment he raised his head to look at him, he stopped. Eyes wide, he quickly got up, “Hey hey, kiddo, what’s going on?”

Wind’s breathing became even more erratic, “I’m not a kid,” He cried, “And yer an asshole.”

Legend winced but didn’t disagree, “Who do I need to hurt?” His hands hovered above Wind’s shoulders. Uncertain what to do.

It wasn’t like Wind had ever gone crying to him before.

“Not hurt,” He said weakly and let himself fall towards Legend, glad when the hero caught him in a hug, “Heal someone f’r me?”

He practically felt Legend frown, “Ya have to be at ‘Rulie for that.”

Wind shook his head, “Not the body.”

“Who told ya them’s story?”

Smart pink cookie.

“I didn’ gotten told shit,” Wind chuckled, he didn’t find it very funny. But somewhere in the truth he found some humour, “Just pieces.”

Legend hummed, rigid in the hug. It was different from Wild’s hug. Less familiar, more questioning, “And the pieces’s ugly?”

Wind tried to burrow himself in the slightly taller hero, “They’r beautiful.”

And she was. For the little time he had seen her fully when they were flying away, she had seared herself into his brain. Majestic and godly. More than they as mortals could ever hope to be. Lovely in her colours, heartwarming with her divinity. And yet.

Lonely.

Haunting.

The quick hug he tried to give her before they left felt too little. But he couldn’t do more. Her hurt had already been solved in the far future and Wind was never meant to be part of that solution. Still, he felt so very sad and sorry. 

Legend patted his back twice, awkwardly, “There there.”

Wind couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up, “Yer so bad at this!” He tightened his hug despite the lack of skills. And Legend didn’t seem to mind.

Chapter Text

Warriors wasn’t sure why they even bothered making up battle plans. It wasn’t as if anyone actually paid any mind to them. They rushed and they stabbed almost mindlessly. All the structure they had practised for, was nowhere to be found.

“Wind! Stay in position!” He screamed across a loud battlefield, one with some monsters he didn’t recognise. Must be from Wild’s era. That also meant, they were monsters they hadn’t discussed before.

Wind punctured the eyes of a blue eyegore, “But Wild’s not in ‘is spot!” He grinned and continued straying even further away.

“Yer not Wild, now ‘re ya?” Twilight took the words right out of Warriors mouth, “Where’s the rascal, anywah?”

An explosion ruptured a decent distance away.

“There ‘e is!”

Warriors was going to scream. For all that fancy arsenal Wild seemed to have, he surely seemed to prefer bombs. And do not forget those sages! The ones with powers that Wild hadn't actually explained. Sure, they seem mighty to have when alone, but in their squadron of nine, they were certainly not a necessity. They merely enabled the hero to fight a distance away from them. Meanwhile they could use Wild’s mastery of the bow at that moment.

An Arpagos or three circled high above them. Too high to reach with their normal bows, let alone with spears. They dove and attacked when they saw the opportunity, striking them at crucial moments. Damned beasts.

“WILD,” That boy was too far away, “UP!” He still barked out the order. An arrow flew over their heads, it seemed like the hero had heard Warriors anyway. But even Wild’s arrows did not reach the monsters, “Fuck!” Warriors looked around to see if anyone else could do anything.

Sky and Legend were fighting an odd mix of colourful bokoblins, arrgi and bow guards. Just a few of each. Time was cornered together with Hyrule and Four, their enemies mainly existing out of buzz blobs and a moblin or two. They were all far removed from Warriors, Wind and Twilight. Far farther than he was comfortable with. The boarblins that surrounded him weren’t particularly hard to deal with, but they were with plenty. Nor did the lizalfos that were sprinkled through the battlefield any help. 

So, they were too far removed from each other. No one had special bows. The hook shots could not reach such heights. What else… there had to be something!

“Leg! Do you have a spell for those fuckers?” He quickly pointed up when Legend spared him a look between stabbings.

But the small man scowled, “Ye think mine spells can reach high as kites?”

“I don’t know?!”

“No!”

A negative, it is. 

“Twilight!” the man grunted in response, “You look out for when they dive to attack, then you shoot them!”

He pushed his heavy foot down on the skull of a fallen monster, deep black blood splattered on his boot, “I?” Twilight practically squeeked, “Yer kiddin’, Cap!” But still he took his bow. 

Wind’s boomerang took out a rogue keese, “I can try too!” He grinned, even if his blond hair was stained red by battle.

“You,” Warriors was going to scream, “Are staying IN position!”

“BORING!”

Why did he ever decide to go into the army, again? Ah yes. Destiny.

“They avoidin’ the’rrows!” Twilight yelled while he tried to shoot down one of them as it dove. But as he said, the beast swerved away from the sharped flying projectile,”Darnit!”

“Someone, just take these fuckers out!”  

Then it happened quickly. One moment Warriors was punting away a chuchu that was distracting him from the actually dangerous enemies. Then before long he stood in an utterly silent field, that was if he could ignore the ringing in his ears, even the monsters clutched their heads. The arpagos were dead. A canon had suddenly overwhelmed the battle with sound, striking the flying bastards in one try. His ears hurt. Another shot and a group of monsters that was standing some way from them got blown to smithereens. Some part of the remaining beasts, the ones closer to the squadron, got taken out by arrows and it finally dawned upon Warriors what had happened.

Wild.

Another sage, one that had passed on. And yet there it was. With canons for hands and Wild on it’s back, a mighty bow in his hands and the Rito spectre just behind him.

They really need to discuss shit more.

“Wild Spice!” Legend’s cackled, “Ye insane motherfucker!” 

The hero in question just jumped off the thing before quickly tapping a ring of his, making the metal being disappear in that recognisable blue. A bokoblin immediately charged at him from behind, but before anyone could warn Wild, the Zora spectre launched his spear straight through the beasts’ head. The few monsters that still fought them screamed in alarm at their pathic numbers. Some even started abandoning their troops. Though they did not get far before they dissolved into nothing but organs as the heroes slashed their fleeting backs.

“THAT WAS SO COOL!” Wind threw his arms in the air the moment the last monster fell, “Wild! Ya didn’ tell ya got canons!”

“You’re bleeding,” Wild frowned, he took the kid’s arm, and carefully peeled the sleeve up. The blood was still actively oozing, although less than before judging by dried brown blood that clung to the sleeve. The wound was long and wide, curving along with Wind’s forearm. It was not deep enough to see the bone, but it looked like it was close enough. “Looks like a curved sword got you,” Wind didn’t even get the chance to say something before Wild had already summoned a red potion. 

“Wait-” Wind tried but his own screams cut him off. It happened all so fast, yet again. No one, not even Warriors who stood so close by, had time to stop any of what was about to happen. Wild squeezed the kid’s arm, forcing the wound together so hard that the skin around it got as bleak as the winter sky. The flesh of the wound itself looked angry red beneath the even aggressive red of the blood. Tears streamed down the poor child’s face as Wild poured the red potion on the wound, sealing it part by part with a thin line of scar tissue. The hero hadn’t looked remorseful one moment in the entire process. Wind’s tears and screams did nothing to his passive expression. Warriors was both impressed and regretful. A soldier did not get stone faced like that without tragedy plaguing their past. 

“Wild!” Hyrule ran over to the two with panic on his face, “What’re ya doin’?!”

The hero let Wind go, “Drink the rest,” He gave the kid the rest of the red potion before he faced Hyrule, “Closed the wound,” He answered.

The traveller’s mouth fell open, “C-closed the wound? Without cleanin’ it? There could be iron in the arm!!” He looked wildly around, focusing on Warriors and Twilight, “Why didn’ ya stop ‘im!” Back to Wild, “Ye can’ just close fresh gashes, Wild!”

“There wasn’t any debris in the wound,” Wild shook his head lightly, “I checked.”

“Ya checked?! Are ye even sure ya know what yer lookin’ for?!”

Unnatural silence washed over the battlefield, the surrounding forest’s rustles had stopped. Wild’s eyes were bright. He raised an eyebrow, the one where a scar ran straight through it. 

“T-them are burn scars,” Hyrule’s cheeks started brightening.

Again the hero remained silent, he simply raised his tunic ever so slightly. Revealing just a sliver of skin. Or if Warriors were to describe it better, a mosaic of scar tissue. 

“I-” 

“‘Rulie,” Wind interrupted him, tears still stained his cheeks, “M’key,” He showed off his arm, the scar already started fading. It was long and curved, but it was a thin and slight thing. It did not even resemble the scar of a sword, “I don’ feel ‘nythin’, just tired.”

Their medic’s eyes widened just slightly, “H-how?”

“Hearty elixir, ‘make them myself,” Wild put his hand on his hips, shifting his weight to the side. 

Hyrule shifted his gaze from Wild to Wind’s arm and back, “O-oh,” He bit his cheek, “I’m sorry. I’m not used to- I apologise.”

Wild’s shoulders slumped, “Don’t worry.”

“C-can you show me? How to make that potion, that is?”

“Elixir,” Wild corrected, “And of course.”

Well, wasn’t that all so very nice. Forget the crying child, the pissed looking Time in the back, Twilight pouting at Hyrule’s shouting. 

Very nice.

“Spice,” Legend slapped Wild on the back, “Ye gotta show off yer tools more,” He grinned, an unsettling sheen in his eyes, “Ye got any magic weaponry? Clothes? Fish?”

“Fish?”

“Like yer big fish friend over there!” Legend grinned even more and Warriors could almost swear that his teeth sharpened. Resembling more like the teeth of a vulture that Legend was down to his core, than the hylian he actually was.

“Sidon?”

The vet scuffed, “Sidon, Bidon, Ridon, who cares! Ye got any magic fish or na?”

“Yes?” Wild genuinely looked disturbed, “I got two? I guess?”

“What’re ya waitin’ on! Show them stinkers!” Legend made odd grabbing motions. 

The silent hero very slowly raised his hand, the one of metal with the rings, he pushed on of them while holding tense eye contact with Legend, “No. You would scare them.”

“Wild Spice, ya can’t do that to little old me!” Legend fake pouted, “Common’ show me yer goods!”

Warriors felt his last remaining will to live drained away during the conversation he just witnessed. Around them he could see similar expressions of horror. Legend had said odd things, had done even odder things, but this was up with that one time the vet decided to fist fight a 80-year-old.

“Wild-” Legend started creeping to the man, “Common’, show some fish-”

Twilight nudged Warriors, “Should we stop him?”

He felt a shudder creep up his spine, “I don’t think we can.”

“Wild-”

“Fine!” Wild spoke for the first time that day. The closeness of Legend seemed to unsettle him, “Just- stand back,” When Legend happily did so, Wild took his Purah Pad, its blue making sure that they saw the very moment Wild started grinning.

“Hey-” Legend couldn’t even try finishing it before a dark swarm started obscuring the sky. A swarm that as soon as it appeared, also crashed down onto the hero of Legends. With all its glory of fins and heads. The smell cleared up the doubt of what the swarm was way quicker than the blackness of the vast numbers of roasted fish, “WILD!” Muffled screams could barely be heard above the sheer amount of roasted fish.

Wild grinned before he very slowly started pulling the fish back into his Purah Pad. The screams of Legend never subsided.

“You’re evil,” Wind grinned.

Wild shrugged, “He asked for magic fish and these,” He handed over a fish skewer to Wind, “Have magic effects.”

“What?!” Wind shrieked and took a big bite, “Ywe cwan dwo twat?!!!” He asked with his mouth full. 

The hero nodded as he went around, giving everyone a skewer, Legend still under a pile of them.

“LET ME OUT!!!” 

“Should we help?” Twilight asked before taking a nibble, “Oh-”

Warriors shrugged, “He brought it upon himself. The fish smells better than him, anyway.”

“It tastes better too,” The wolf man murmured before inhaling the rest of the fish skewer.

“You’ve tasted Legend?”

It dawned upon the other hero what he had said, his eyes wide, “No?”

Warriors really questioned why he was made to join the bunch of idiots that was the chain, “I’m not even going to ask,” Instead he also took a bite and oh. Okay. He wasn’t expecting it to be better than any fish he had ever eaten at the royal court. The crust was just toasted enough while the flesh stayed deliciously tender and juicy. The mix of herbs and spices did not overtake the taste, but rather complimented it. Before he knew better, he had finished it all. And alongside it, energy he didn't have started flooding his veins. As if he hadn’t fought monsters for hours just a few moments ago.

“Is this like that dandelion milk?” Four asked. Wild nodded as he started taking away from the pile again, “How interesting,” Four’s eyes blinked blue and purple.

“When you get Legend free, we leave,” Time cleared his throat.

Wild didn’t spare the hero a glance, instead he gave a simple thumbs up.

How very nice.

--

As they returned to SkyLoft when their battle had finished, they were greeted by a familiar pull towards the other side of the island. It was sickening to have such divinity play with your instincts. Warriors' stomachs always squeezed together at the manipulation. The energy too strong for him, the implication uncomfortable. 

And yet, he had no choice but strut towards the origin of that sickness. It was better to enter the swirling purple himself, or else the thing would appear beneath his feet with its lack of patience. The nausea that followed was far worse than a voluntary shift. 

Next to the purple she stood waiting for them, the first queen of the proud dynasty that was the Hyrule lineage. The jewels in her hair reflected beautifully, her golden hair a halo. 

“I am delighted to see you back safe and well,” Her voice rang bright and clear. Delicate hands lightly clasped before her.

Sky walked past them with a hurry in his step, his voice trembling,  “My dear,” He took her hands and brought them to his lips, “I will return to you.”

Sun’s shoulders slumped from their perfect posture, “As is expected of you, my beloved,” She smiled at him.

After plenty of weeks spent in recovering woods and cold Hylians, Skyloft had been a pleasure to visit. The warmth between Sky and Sun was a sight for sore eyes. Thus Warriors found it a shame they were already leaving. May the Goddess be kind to them and at least bring them to another gentle era.

Sky let go of Sun’s hands when Time called them all to action for preparations to leave. Bags were being ruffled around and the check ups were going as smoothly as it could be with their group.

“Sun,” Wind had wrung his way between the couple of the era, Sky only looked a little offended, “Thank you,” His cute cheeks were red. 

And although Warriors had no idea what his gratitude was for, Sun seemed to appreciate it, “But of course,” She kneeled before him, “Be kind and be brave, little one.”

The kid pouted, “I’m not little,” But he did not have the same ire for her as he had for them.

“You are smaller than me though,” Sun’s noise scrunched as she laughed, “Little one.”

Warriors could not recall Sun ever smiling like that before. She had always been polite and graceful, a pleasure to be around. But relaxed as such? That was a whole new facet of her that the captain hadn’t seen yet.

“Freaky,” Legend murmured just loud enough for Warriors to hear, “Ye recon she gotten swapped with brain eatin’ monsters?”

He wondered, who was a worse influence on the other? Ravio or Legend? Or were they both so far removed from normalcy that they had turned out with too few screws in the heads, without the influence of each other? If it was that, they must've stolen even more of the common sense either of them had, “Wind is easy to dote on.”

Legend rolled his eyes, “Never said ‘e wasn’t,” Warriors was about to answer some nonsensical and sarcastic comment when Legend’s eyebrows shot in the air, “Next yer gonn’ tell I that cucco’s are benevolent.”

The captain followed Legend's gaze and he too had to raise an eyebrow. Wild pittered his way down to Sun and the surrounding heroes. His step as light and fluttery as always. It was the hint of a warm and genuine smile that was unusual, “I am grateful to have met you,” Wild spoke. 

“Huh.”

Warriors saw how the others all froze, their eyes on their newest hero. It was not that they had never heard him speak before. They had plenty of time. Just earlier it had happened. It was not his voice itself that shocked them so. It was the loudness of it, the clearness, the obvious gratefulness in it. 

Sun smiled wide, her eyes crinkled with it, “Likewise,” She pulled him into a hug, “Be true to yourself, sweetheart.”

He hadn’t even known that Sun and Wild had interacted with each other. Let alone that it had been long enough for such transparency in their emotions for each other.

“Punch me,” Legend pulled at his sleeve, his eyes wide with shock, “I’m dreamin’ ‘gain.”

Warriors happily obliged and slammed his fist against the younger hero’s shoulder. He pretended not to enjoy the cry of surprise with a hint of hurt.

“Boys,” Sun’s disappointment travelled across the courtyard, “Act your age,” Was she forgetting that most of them were still mere youngsters? “Now, sweetheart,” She put a hand on Wild’s face, “Do not fret about your matter, I will make sure to fulfil my promise.”

“I thank you,” Wild leaned into her hand, his eyes closed. He looked small like that. His stature was not large but he carried himself with a confidence that made the ones around him pay attention to his every move. He knew his body and its capabilities to such an extreme that Warriors could only be impressed. It was a delight to see in battle. How the hero moved in such a way that his energy was spent as little as possible and yet his movements were still graceful and precise. His dodges always masterfully, although often scarily close.

But in her hands, he transformed into the young man he truly was. One with scars that told stories of horrors. Eyes that held secrets that he did not want to share. A kind of vulnerability that he hadn’t shown them before, not even when they spoke of his issues of the mind. 

Yet he did with Sun. Someone he had met only two days ago. Warriors did not know what had been different for her, why she had such an easy experience.

“Now, take care of my Link, will you?” She asked Wild, playfulness clear in her voice.

Sky, who had been standing shell shocked next to the whole show, spluttered, “W-what? Dear! I don’t need protection!” She giggled and went to say more but Warriors lost interest quickly. 

He rather paid attention to the hero of the wilds. He was staring at the sky with an intensity that hackled Warriors. Wild looked at the skies often. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, just to let it all out just as intensely. Just to do it again. And again.

“Pair up!” Time called.

And Wild opened his eyes, the blue of them burned bright.

Something about the hero terrified him.

“Hey Wild!” Warriors cleared the distance between them with a brisk walk, “Join me, won’t you?”

He slanted his head and those eyes with their blue focused purely on the captain. Considering everything about him. It seemed to last an eternity. As it seemed to do with Wild a lot. Until finally, he nodded once curtly.

How very nice

Chapter Text

Rico was a simple being, it woke up and screamed. It ate and screamed again. Before retiring to bed, it screamed again. 

A simple being.

But sometimes it didn’t stay simple, sometimes the giant returned in a stinky pile of purple with other giants that smelled like they didn’t belong here. This time there was a new giant in the group. He still didn’t belong, his scent stood out, but it quickly faded into the background. 

An interesting giant.

Now, Rico wasn’t exactly an extrovert, but it was confrontational. So it shook its stance into something proud and large and made its way to the group of giants. They quickly stepped aside when they saw it coming and Rico preened. Puny giants.

It stopped its prance before the new giant, its blond hair cascading over its shoulder, blue gems peered down at it. Yes, Rico was right, the giant did not belong but it did!

“Greetings!” Rico greeted the giant with a shake.

The blue-gemmed giant lowered, its wings strangely deformed, “Hello?” It greeted Rico back in a dialogue it barely understood.

The other giants murmured in a language Rico refused to learn. It was beneath it. 

“Large one, you are blessed!” Rico threw its feathers in the air, “You know the language of the greats!”

It pointed a deformed wing at itself, “I’m self-taught,” It said.

Now Rico was getting impressed, self-taught! It had never seen that before! Even the lady giant had to be taught painstakingly! “What are you called, tall one? I must report your extraordinary deed of prowess to the council!”

“The Hylians call me Wabble,” The giant held out its hands and Rico jumped on them without hesitation, “Though the Cucco home call me Lunco.”

What a gracious name! It had both the proud u and o of their language! This giant must be highly respected by the great council from the land it came from, “Welcome to our territory, Lunco!”

“Ha,” Another one of the giants, one that reeked of wrongness disturbed them, “Wabble, flibby flar ay gabbering at the gookoo?”

Lunco nodded its head in apology at Rico before answering the giant that was smaller than Lunco, “Wibble’s takwop.”

The ugly small giant made a laughing sound, “Wobble?”

“It blorged up woo me and fribbled my snarb,” Lunco answered.

“Wabble,” The nuisance stepped closer, “Jibby foo flib your snorb in the babber?”

Lunco shook its head, “Narb-” It looked upset at the conversation and Rico was not going to tolerant a giant that was so far below it to make its respected giant upset!

“Insolent brat!” Rico screamed at it, picking at it as a warning, “Do not disrupt the conversation from your superiors! Or I will personally make sure you will suffer in every Cucco territory you step into!”

“Wobble the firk?”

Lunco moved its large hands, taking Rico further away from the brat, “I ask you to forgive the disrespect of my companions,” It bowed its head, “They do not know the right customs.”

“You ought to educate them!” Rico puffed its chest, “The lady of the house will assist you!”

“The lady of the house?”

“That be me,” Lunco turned around so fast that Rico almost flew off its hands. 

It ruffled its feathers, “Molun, your tact has still not bettered.”

The lady giant showed its teeth, “I sorry,” It said in its broken Cucco, “I Molun, Blubba the Zylians call me Zibzon.”

“Zibzon?” Lunco slanted its head.

“Molun is the partner of the giant of metal,” Rico inspected its nails, oh how it wanted to scratch the being, “Loud beast.”

The kind lady of the house shook its bright red feathers, “Lark kind,” It disagreed with Rico many times before, always about that buffoon, “Lark my husband,” It said to Lunco.

“You’re Married to Tyrm?” Lunco’s bright blue gems widened.

“Sadly,” Rico let out a scream of frustration, “Uncultured beasts have no right to the respected giants!”

Molun took Rico gently from Lunco, “Wabble needed for councill giants,” It placed Rico down, “We respect later,” It bowed.

Lunco followed its example and bowed, “May you and the council be healthy,” It paid respect before leaving with Molun.

Rico was a simple Cucco. It was not an extrovert, but it was confrontational. And it respected the giant of changing nature, it had a name of importance, after all. So it swore on all its beautiful feathers, it would fight for Lunco. It would be a part of the flock after it met the high council, after all.

Chapter Text

What was it that Legend called Wild? Wild Spite? Wild spike? Ah, Wild Spice, that was it! Very fitting, Warriors had to give props to the vet. Wild fought with fire and violence, he took no disrespect and did only what he wanted to do. 

But Warriors thought the man deserved yet another nickname, like they all had plenty. He had thought of some already- Quiet-one, fire-lover, will-stab-one-of-them-in-the-back-if-they’re-not-careful-Link. Wild? More like calm Link! Things like that.

But he was starting to consider ‘Crazy’ too.

“Pacow?” Wild eerily accurately imitated the cucco that had stormed through the group just a moment ago before it started screaming at their newest addition.

Twilight frowned, “Wild’s playin’ with fire.”

“What the feck’s happenin’,” Legend sighed from his spot on the ground.

The cucco screeched back to Wild, “I don’t know,” Warriors hummed, “You good?”

“Yea yea, just sufferin’ from hell itself.”

Dramatic ass. The portals were not great, but they were fairly easy to adjust to, Warriors found. 

“Sht’t,” Four moaned in pain from where they were lying flat on their face, Hyrule patting their back. “Wid, mik,” They demanded, still muffled.

Hyrule grimaced, “Wild’s busy.”

“Speakin’ with a cuck!” 

“That’s no-” Twilight tried to correct Wind but the kid was already not listening. Warriors laid an understanding hand on the farm hand’s shoulder.

Wind left Sky behind from their spot in a short sprint, “Heyo, Wildin’, why’re ya bawking at’ta cucco?” He circled around Wild and the cucco on his hands. Sky looked like he wanted to join the kid, but his face turned even more white with any movement.

“We’re talking,” Wild answered the kid, at times looking nervously at the cucco. Like Warriors said, Crazy.

“Well well well, will ye look at that!” Someone slapped hard on his shoulder, “A new one!”

“Malon-” Time appeared from wherever he was (For how tall he was, he always seemed to blend into the background). He picked up his wife, spinning her, “How I have missed you.”

Well, how nice. They went from one era with Hylians that were over the top in love, right into the next one. How fuuuuun, another couple to ignore. Maybe Warriors could suggest hitting up some pubs later that evening, he needed it. Not Twilight, that man was a hopeless romantic as well. Wild was old enough to drink, right? 

“Wild, did’ya hit yar head in tha fight?” Wind’s high voice took attention back. It pulled Hyrule’s gaze from Four to Wild swiftly.

Wild shook his head quickly, “No-” But he got interrupted by the cucco that started flapping its wings around aggressively, trying to pick at Wind while Wild did his best to keep the kid away from harm's way.

Malon laughed, patting Time’s shoulders to be let go, “Now, fae boy, who’s he?” She straightened her dress. 

Time sighed deeply, “Fi called him The Hero of the Wilds.”

Warriors cringed. Time could convey his feelings without many words, his tone of voice was enough. And the way he said Wild’s title, said plenty enough. Bitterness, a bit of disdain. Feelings Warriors didn’t really understand. He could feel frustrated with Wild but so had he with all of them in the beginning.

Malon’s perpetually busy hands fell still, her gaze narrowed, “Is he not kind?” She analysed his face closely, looking for an explanation of his emotions.

Twilight waved his hands hurriedly, “No no! He is!” He looked over at Time, “Wild’s slow to warm.”

Now Malon was getting suspicious, her gaze snapping all over the place, “Go inside, we’ll talk later.”

“My heart,” Time tried to take her aside.

But she shook her head, “Fairy, the cucco needs my attention.”

“Oof, rejected,” Legend whispered from the same spot as before. 

“Leg,” Hyrule quickly intervened, “Help carry Four.”

Malon ignored it all and walked towards Wild and Wind, beckoning the kid to her before sending him inside as well. Her smile softer again as she started cackling to the cucco as well. 

“What the fack.”

Crazy Wild and Crazy Malon. Very fitting if you asked Warriors.

“Wait- does tha mean they actually can talk cucco?” Wind asked.

Warriors pushed to kid inside and threw one last look at the two, awkwardly cackling away, “No,” Or at least he hoped they could not. Wild actually being able to talk to cucco’s was as terrifying as evil itself.

Chapter Text

“Wilds, was it?” She asked him as they made their way towards the house that apparently belonged to her and Time.

The red haired woman towered above Link, although not as much as Time or Twilight. Her blue eyes peered down at him with focus. Malon, as she had introduced herself, seemed kind. Her clothes frayed in the same way the clothes of the farmers in Hateno did. The border destroyed by the constant dragging across the ground, and stains forever caked into the apron. The smell of horses hung around her in a manner that spoke of constant care for the animals. It did not stink but it was strong. And hay stuck in her hair. A farm woman through and through. She reminded him strongly of the Hylians in Hateno, who Link adored so much. It almost hurt to be reminded of them to such an extent. 

But Malon was the wife of Time. He couldn’t let his guard down with her. 

“Wild,” He corrected her.

“Sign, huh?” Malon moved her hands with confidence and familiarity, “It’s been a while since I got the opportunity to practise it.”

Oh.

“You know sign well enough to use it yourself?”

She smiled, “Well of course! Me dear hubby and I used to talk silently all the time!” 

Time knew sign.

That in itself was no new news. All of the heroes of olds could sign. They would have experienced much more problems than they already had, if they could not. Link was able to force his voice into working, but it would fail on him at some point. Purah had explained the scars were deep enough to pressure down on his vocal cords. So even if he wanted to, he could not sustain on just his voice.

But luckily they could read sign, so his vocal cords could rest plenty. But he had assumed they could just read it and had not the ability to sign it themselves. Just as it was the case for almost everyone in Links era. He was used to it. But it got somewhat lonely to speak a language that people understood but not speak. Link had to use simple sign a lot, even when talking about serious topics. There had been cases where beings of importance had made fun of his sign because they were simple. Never mind he had to dumb them down for them. And although Zelda and he had made sure they regretted their words, it was difficult to forget. And even more difficult to not notice how he missed expressing his mind to its full extent. 

It was soul destroying to be pulled away from his loved ones. His best friends that learned all they could of sign, for him. Forced back into a life where his existence would be simplified.

But Time knew how to speak sign.

And that knowledge sat uncomfortably in Link's mind. He knew Time didn’t like him, why it was to the extent it was, he did not know. They had their disagreement and its consequences that were luckily just a dysfunctional relationship, instead of death. But they danced in circles of snide comments and silence that seemed out of proportion. Link had only wanted to save his people and he wanted to be left alone. He never asked to become a part of this so-called chain. He didn’t like leaving his era when they needed him such. He didn’t like to be disliked by the leader of the group he was forced to join. And he disliked to dislike someone else. Link was not one to enjoy feeling negative about other beings just trying their best. 

But he did dislike Time. The man was cold and brash, his eyes hard when they looked at Link. His words were cutting, not like Legend’s sarcasm or Wind’s naivety. No, Time’s words meant to punch the air out of Link and it worked. Somehow he looked at Link and knew what would not only be able to pierce his heart with a sword, but also managed to twist it mercilessly. He had little empathy or desire to listen to Link. And if Time chose to never speak again, it still would be too soon for Link.

And yet, even with all that frustration and hurt with Time, Link felt shaken by the news. The desire to really talk, that never went away in his life of mostly solitude, came back tenfold. And he had to wonder, did Time know that it would hurt Link so? To take that connection of speaking the same language away from him?

“Wild,” Malon bent her knees just a bit, so she was eye level with him, “Are ya okay?”

A shudder travelled over Link’s spine, “Yeah,” He dismissed her concern, stepping backwards and clearing his throat even if he wasn’t planning on using his voice, “You were saying?”

The lady of the house, as the cucco had called her, frowned but continued nonetheless, “I said I was surprised to see ya speak cucco. I was starting to think that I was hallucinating Rico talking to me.”

“The first cucco I understood was talking about how much it hoped I would fall off the roof,” Link smiled at the memory, he and that cucco were still great friends.

“What were ya doin’ on a roof?” Malon questioned as she started walking again, Link hadn’t noticed they’d stopped.

The real question was, what wasn’t he doing on a roof? “Picking up unruly birds.”

Malon seemed to accept that as a satisfactory response, a solid nod was all Link got before she steered him not towards the door but to the right, “Ya sound like ye got a good sense of animals.”

“I grew up on a farm.”

“Did ya, now.”

Did he?

Link forced himself to keep walking, to not let his emotions show again. But his head started to ach. Why did he say that? Did he grow up on a farm? He knew that he started his training young, way younger than he wanted to admit or remember. But before that? Where had he lived? Who had he been? His mother was Sheikah, he was told. They lived in Hateno before they moved to Castle Town.  How had he not the connection that he grew up in a farming village?

“Now, farm boy,” Malon slammed her open hand on his shoulder, making him stumble, “Let’s do some chores.”

A rake got shoved into his hands, bales of hay towered before Link. The message was pretty clear, yet Malon carefully explained how she liked the hay to be moved. How much he should bring to the animals and to where. It was a lot of information but nothing Link couldn’t handle. He had done much more for Hylians he had never met before. And he may not like her husband, but that did not mean Wild was about to be anything less than useful.

“How have the boys been treatin’ ya?” 

Link’s movements halted just for a moment, the question took him by surprise, “Good,” He said and immediately wanted to cringe away at the sound of it. 

Malon hummed and started filling up feeding buckets with milk, “Young ones are so fragile,” She carefully moved the buckets into a wooden holder, the height for small animals, “They need constant attention and plenty of milk,” Making sure it’s all in place one last time, she opened up a barn door. Screaming little goats immediately flocked to the milk, “Sometimes I wonder if they’re worth it.”

With a final swing, Link threw the last of the hay into a feeding rack, dust flew everywhere. Grown goats started making their way over as well. They looked healthy and strong, happily chewing on the dried grass. 

“And then I look at them,” Malon made her way over to Link and the goats, “And I realise, they are worth it. They may need more care and love because they were rejected by their mother, but they deserve that love.”

Link didn’t know what she expected him to answer to all of that. Did she want his opinion on the merits of raising cattle by hand? He hadn’t had much experience in such, he was never in one spot for that long. Did she want him to ask questions about the whole concept? Make a comment about how cute goats were? Because they certainly were, but he didn’t need an odd conversation to admit that.

But she didn’t want any of that, did she. He felt like she was saying something between the lines and Link didn’t have the translation book for it. He was more than fluent in court talk. The way nobility used to insult each other even if their words were flowery. How they discussed politics and confidential information in plain conversation, surrounded by others and yet not discovered. Zelda still fell into those habits from time to time and although he didn’t remember it explicitly, his brain was hard wired to understand it. But baby goats? He wasn’t quite sure what that meant. He didn’t remember the animal to be symbolism for anything either, not like flowers had its own language or the way you could wave a fan and wish death upon someone.

“Yer quite a negative one, are ya,” Malon shook her head with a sigh after Link had stayed silent for too long, “Legend and ya must get along well.”

If Link thought Malon had lost him with the goats, before. He was wrong, it was now that she lost him. The comment was abrupt and presumptuous. He had said very little to the woman and none of it was damning for such an opinion. He also did not necessarily agree with her, he would rather see himself as a realist. He knew when he was in too deep. Recognised the dangers and the save. In many cases, he was more positive than negative, too. Link saw challenges that seemed impossible and took them on with no plans of failure. He had defeated Lynells with only one broadsword and two travellers shields. He did not anticipate his downfall, only his success. And yet she called him negative for a reason he did not understand or would dare to question.

“Legend seems to like me to some point,” Link ignored the first part of her statement, “And I do appreciate his tenacity.”

She shot him a sideways glance that made Link rethink his existence but chose not to comment, “Let’s go,” With a hand gesture they made their way back to the house, letting them in through a backdoor, “Ya got any chopping skills? The boys are hopeless in anything concerning the kitchen. You would think that experienced fighters would know their way around with a knife and some vegetables but apparently not. Don’t get me wrong, I love all the boys Hylia dropped off at my doorstep, but some help in the kitchen would be extremely helpful,” She rambled while clanking around with pots and pans.

“I can-” Link tried to sign but she was too busy to notice, “I-” His voice was silent and hoarse, “I can,” It was loud enough for Malon to hear, “Chop- chop vegetables, that is.”

Showing lots of teeth, Malon grinned, “Let’s cook together,” She excitedly clapped her hands together, “I’ll let Link know what needs to be done, still. You start choppin’ up somethin’ already, alright?” She hadn’t given him a moment to answer before she had left already. Leaving him alone in a kitchen he wasn’t familiar with. 

Malon was flighty and busy, just like her space was. The cabinets were well cared for but obviously used. Painted in a dark red that always mismatched itself. Even if the cabinets were painted on the same day, with the same amount of coats, they dried slightly differently. The countertop was smooth dark oak, maintenance clearly a priority. A simple workbench sat in the middle of the room, a bucket of fresh water stood on a stool next to it. Pans and pots hung on walls. It was a well stocked kitchen and Link couldn’t help but feel at home in the space.

He hadn’t had much opportunities to cook in the last few weeks. Even when he was on duty for it, not because he didn’t want to. It was just simply that Link didn’t get the chance. Even before he had set up a space to work, he got told what to make. Meat Twilight caught that evening, or the rations they still had. It didn’t matter that Link had more food than he would ever need in his Purah Pad. Everytime he wanted to get something out of there, he would get suspicious eyes. And he understood their paranoia, he also barely trusted others with his food. So he simply worked with what was given to him, to appease the group. 

The food was… decent. Never particularly good. It was hurtful to his pride, it had been so very long since he made food that was merely edible while he was genuinely trying. It turned out that it was quite hard to make subpar meat and stale vegetables taste good after all. They didn’t even have seasoning, let alone Goron spice or salt from the Zora reserves. 

But thank Hylia, Malon had spices put on shelves. Link would finally be able to use his taste buds again after almost a month of plain food. 

Some ingredients were laid out already. Peppers, carrots, tomatoes and pumpkin were most noticeable. Meat that smelled like goat was already simmering on a low fire, coated in a nice dose of butter. The beginning of a delicious meal.

Link cleaned the vegetables in the clean water and started the therapeutic actions of gutting seeds and cutting the remainders up. 

Chop, scrape, chop chop chop. 

Chop, chop, scrape, chop.

Peel, chop chop chop chop chop chop.

“Now that’s settled,” Malon entered the kitchen, a slightly forced grin on her face, “Funny boys, they were surprised yer joining me cookin’! But would ya look at that,” A more genuine expression fell over her face as she came closer, “That precision speaks of experience. Ya said ye can chop, but I reckon ye can cook!”

Link put down the knife, “My cooking is acceptable.”

She laughed, “Put ya next to those precious boys and ye will look like a cookin’ god! Ya got this, right?” Gesturing towards the vegetables, she hummed, “Imma start on dessert and you finish up the main dish, will ya.”

“And what am I finishing?” There were endless options with the available ingredients.

“Whatever ya feel like! I trust you!” Malon smiled wide, the skin around her eyes crinkling, “Now, what for dessert? Apple pie or pecan cookies?”

She trusted him.

“Well, apple or pecan?”

He was free to do whatever he wanted to do.

Link’s heart squeezed in the same way it did when he got asked to deal with something by hylians back home. With their warm smiles and reassuring words. Their complete believe in him and his abilities, “Apple pecan pie.”

Malon pointed at him with a moving finger, “I like yer vision,” She hummed, “I’ll have to make it adorable, Wind was complainin’ to Sky that it had been so long since they visited his era and he misses his grandma. I always try to make him comfortin’ foods, then-”

Wind had been mentioning his grandmother for a while, it fell mostly on deaf ears. They missed all of their own eras, after all. And although Link felt for him, he hadn’t known that food would help the teen with his home sickness or how serious it was. 

“Shall I make a hearty soup, as well?” He cut off Malon’s ramblings without meaning to.

But she did not look offended, instead she nodded enthusiastically, “If ya can! We don’t have much ingredients left over though.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Link switched to sign again now that she was looking, “I have some ingredients from my era,” He took the Pad and with a few taps lots of new and fresh vegetables covered the workbench again.

Malon clasped her hands, her eyes wide, “Well would ya look at that! I need me to get one of those!”

“I’ll see what I can do,” The Purah Pad was a singular device for now, but Purah had been talking about making more now that Zelda was back. 

“Are they special in yer era?” She asked curiously, happily accepting it when Link handed it to her, “It’s just for food?”

Link activated the pad for her, showing his ingredients and knick knacks, “Food, weapons, clothes,” He switched through the categories, “Entire meals, powers, everything else.”

Malon switched through everything, inspecting every ingredient, glancing at the descriptions and admiring the clothes, “You have replicas of their tunics,” Her voice was soft.

“Real,” Link whispered, tapping on the tunic of Time he read the text written in Sheikah, “Legend has it this armour was once worn by a hero who travelled through time. It can be worn by a child or an adult.”

Silence overtook the kitchen as Malon touched the screen gingerly, she looked stricken. Something about the description had impacted her enough for her smile to fully disappear.

Gently he touched her shoulder before turning back to the vegetables, giving Malon plenty of space with the Purah Pad and the image that took her entire focus. He decided on filled pumpkin for the main course and everything for the hearty soup was laid out already. The ritualistic experience of cooking took him once again. Cleaning and gutting out the seed. Chop them up finely and evenly to ensure even cooking. His Purah Pad appeared next to him at some point but Link hadn’t seen Malon lay it down there. The sweet smell of apples was the only indicator that Malon had begun her pie somewhere behind him and his werkbench. 

Time hadn’t gone that quickly and peacefully in such a very long time for him. Even before Link had joined the chain, everything had gone slow and painfully after the defeat of the demon king. Zelda was in a bad shape mentally. Link had to travel constantly between the regions to help them set up hunting and gathering grounds again. So that the trading routes could stabilise and help the other towns. He had slept so very little and there hadn’t been any end in sight. 

Travelling with the group of heroes hadn’t improved his sleep or exhaustion at all. His mind found it difficult to find the peace and space needed for him to fall asleep. So only when his body desperately needed the rest, did he lose consciousness, despite how unsafe he felt. It was so very reminiscent of his first quest, when he hadn’t known the inhabitants of Hyrule well enough to be at rest in their presence. 

The group walked slowly. Made plans for attacks even slower. Their wake up and sleep routines went on forever. Tasks so easily done by yourself had to be done with two. 

Everything Link had been doing on his own for so long, took so much longer with nine. It was exhausting in a way that loneliness never was. 

“It smells wonderful,” Malon touched the shoulder of Link so very suddenly, giving him a jumpscare that could compete with horroblins, “What did ye put in the soup that created that earthy smell?” 

“Large heart truffle,” He showed an example on the Purah Pad, “Combined with the right ingredients, it gives a boost.”

She hummed, “Like magic?”

“No,” Or at least, he didn’t think it was, but he wasn’t too sure what was magic and what wasn’t, anymore. 

“Holler when it’s almost ready,” With a last tap to his shoulder, she left the kitchen, leaving Link alone once again. 

--

The soup was rich in flavour, the warmth reassuring. It was everything Link had been missing and more. He closed his eyes and imagined he was back in Hateno, Zelda next to him enjoying the dish loudly, never stopping complimenting every taste she discovered. They would start planning their schedules for the next day, who would they visit? How long would they stay? But they would get distracted and start giggling about rumours they had picked up along their travels. Relationships that ended and started. Kids growing up into teens and starting their rebellions. The new businesses that popped up everywhere. 

Wishes of new towns and more connections that could be heard in every settlement. There was so much hope for the future. Zelda and he would revel in the possibilities of it all, even if their wounds and scars ached so terribly.

Comfortable silence would settle upon them until once again Zelda would start complementing the food. And Link would accept it all, because she was truthful and his peace. The state of their kingdom didn’t matter when they were together. Nightmares and episodes were just a small worry when they knew each other so well. 

With his eyes closed he could pretend it was all fine. He could almost ignore the sounds of the heroes of old talking and laughing. They were leaving him alone at his spot at the end of the table. And if he was delusional enough he could pretend they weren’t here, that his friends were the ones that were eating his food. Riju would like it but add some naan bread to dip into the soup. Tulin and Teba would ask if they could take some home for Saki who was always welcome, but chose to stay home and watch the settlement. Yunobo’s dish would be filled with rocks, specially made for him and he would start crying at the gesture. No matter that Link always did it for him. After it would have cooled down enough for them, Sidon and Yona both would’ve found it a bit too spicy, even if there was no spice in it. There would be laughter and jokes, but Link would be able to join in on their ambiance. He wouldn’t be sitting at the end, he would be up and about, making sure everything was fine for everyone. Until he got forced to sit down, right in the middle of them. 

He would belong. 

“Oh! Wild made it!”

His nickname pulled him from his wishful delusions, his eyes opened to see the entire table look at him with variations of shock on their faces.

“Ya mwade twhis?!” Wind raised his dish of filled pumpkin, his mouth filled with food, “Itsw amwaswing!”

Malon laughed and passed a handkerchief towards him, “Here dear. The soup was him too, ‘has ingredients in that pad of ‘im that I didn’ even know.”

Normally Link loved compliments on his food, he revelled in it. But all of those eyes on him itched and he wished that Malon had kept quiet.

“You never said ya could cook,” Legend raised an eyebrow.

“You never asked.”

The vet raised his hands in surrender, “My bad, Spice, my bad.”

Warriors inspected his food carefully, “Remember those fish Wild piled upon Legend?”

“What?” Malon asked.

Wind laughed, “Best day of me life!”

“Best day?” Legend narrowed his eyes, “That happened earlier today! And now I smell like fish!”

“Yeah, we know,” Four murmured. 

“YOU-”

Warriors shoved Legend, shutting him up, “Anyway, did you also make those?”

Link furrowed his brows, they had not realised? Had they thought he just bought that much food from others? “Of course.”

“What is happening here?” Malon signed quickly, “Did you not cook for them before today? I thought you joined them a few weeks ago?”

Link didn’t respond immediately, his system shell shocked once again by the sudden signing, “I did,” He took control of his emotions again, “But I used the ingredients they gave me. Just as the others do.”

Time frowned, “We all contribute our food to the rations.”

“As do I. We have eaten plenty of fruit I have put out for breakfast and between travelling. As have I made sure we had flour and such when needed. Products that are not easy to poison, for your peace of mind,” Link signed rapidly, heat rising in his stomach for no good reason. This was no matter to have words about. 

Wind whined, “Ye’re signin’ to swift! What’r ye talkin’ about? Is Time bein’ an ass ‘gain?” Hyrule lightly shook his head and no one else would explain, leaving the teen in the unknown. Though, Link appreciated the call out.

“Poison?” Malon was still signing, “Why would you think they’d suspect you of poisoning them?”

“I would like to know that as well,” Time crossed his arms, his voice cold and Link felt his temper bristle.

Warriors sighed, “Can we not, I am quite enjoying my meal.”

Twilight tried to placate the situation as well, “It’s good. ‘Pumpkin’s amazin’.”

“Thank you,” Link nodded at them, he had no energy to smile at them, but he was glad they gave him space away from Time.

“Wild,” But Time did not let it go, “Answer my wife.”

Link closed his eyes, he felt irritation and rage bubble up in his stomach. He disliked it. Disliked Time. He breathed in deep and long, and let the air escape his lungs just as slowly, before he opened his eyes, “Malon,” He refused to look at Time, “I only did what was customary and used food they provided to prove my trustworthiness. I did not mean to insult the heroes of old nor did I mean to imply they did not trust me.”  

It was not quite the truth but not entirely a lie. It used to be considered a sign of dislike and even a threat to give nobles and royalty food that was not carefully observed when made. It trickled down into the common folk for a while and died again during the 100 years of calamity. Though, with the appearance of Yiga, it became considered dangerous to accept food of others you did not fully trust.

“Customary?” Warriors slanted his head, “In what quantities does poisoned food appear in your era?”

Wasn’t Warriors from an era with plenty of royalty and court etiquette? Did he not come into contact with plenty of assassins? Did he or other royal knights not oversee the making of food for their liege? 

Hyrule looked sad, “Me era’s the same.”

“Poison?” Wind frowned, very out of loop, “The enemy eats first? And ye click yer glasses real hard so ya poison’ each other?”

Legend scuffed, “That’s barbaric, ya let yer criminals taste everything first, of course.”

Horror enveloped everyone at the table. 

“Legend…” Hyrule murmured, “No…”

“WHAT?! That’s how we do it!”

Four scrunched their nose, “This’s why we stay ‘way from the castle,” They stabbed down their fork on a piece of goat meat, “Poison’s the cowards way.”

Malon coughed awkwardly, “Well would ya smell that, the pie is ready,” She quickly made her way to the kitchen, leaving the mess behind.

But of course, none of them were heroes of wisdom, so they did not pick up the social cue of Malon. Warriors was quick to continue, “Our sorceress makes sure the food is safe. She hasn’ failed us yet.”

Link pretended he knew who or what he was talking about, none of the others seemed perplexed by the mention of a sorceress.

“Isn’t she a battle mage?” Legend raised a very judgemental eyebrow.

“Yes. That matters little, though,” Wars waved Legend’s judgement away, “She does what is asked of her. And were you not the one that said you use criminals as guinea pigs?”

“Yes, and?”

Sky dragged a hand across his face, “Hylia, dear Goddess,” He clasped his hands together and looked towards the ceiling “Are these your heroes? Destined to defeat evil and save the lands?”

Twilight laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, “There there, all be well.”

“Pie!” Malon, thank all the Goddesses, interrupted whatever was going on, “And no poison talk anymore,” She shot them all a look.

“Thank you, dear,” Time smiled warmly (Link didn’t know he could do that).

She sat it down, “Of course, it’s apple pecan. It’s a new try for a recipe, so let me know what ye think.”

Link gracefully accepted his piece, impatient as it cooled, he ate it no matter the burned tongue as a consequence. The apple was sweet but had a sour after taste. The pecan was salted, which made the sweetness and sourness stand out even more. The crust was perfectly baked, it flaked but didn’t fall apart when handled. The nuttiness of the finely cut up pecans were the perfect tinge of bitterness, which made the sweetness gentle. Its texture perfect in the smoothness of the pie, “It’s perfect, Malon,” He smiled at her, “I would add just a bit more cinnamon, but that’s to your own taste.”

“I thought so too,” Malon nodded, taking another bite, “More pecan as well, the apple overtakes too much.”

Wind inhaled the pie, “I dun’know watcha talkin’ ‘bout, this is fuckin’ fantastic!”

“Language!”

“It’s great,” Time placed his hand on hers, “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Malon frowned, “Ya wouldn’t? Are ye sure? You don’t even like pecans that much.”

“Everything you make is perfect, dear.”

She didn’t believe him, her brows were furrowed and her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she averted her gaze from her husband. Instead Malon looked at Link, “Yer on cookin’ duty when yer here, any objections?”

Link shook his head.

“Great! Fairy,” She looked at Time, “Isn’t it great that ye boys finally got a cook!

Time didn’t look that happy but the others let out cheers of various volumes.

“We’re a bit affronted ya let us eat Hyrule’s sludge,” Four pointed their fork at Link, “But, glad yur here.”

Twilight nodded harshly, “Good food. Finally.”

“Hylia blessed us,” Sky prayed to the ceiling again. And Link hadn’t had the heart to tell him Hylia did no such thing. 

“You act as if we’ve been eating worse than dubious food,” Link signed slowly, making sure Wind would be able to follow.

Hyrule nodded, “They know no real bad food.”

Warriors shrugged, “I’ve eaten worse.”

But Wind disagreed, “Our food last week moved! It fuckin’ moved!”

“And?” Hyrule asked.

“Sick! Yer sick!”

“Chu Chu jelly also moves but not only is it quite refreshing to eat as a quick snack, it has amazing qualities when incorporated well into elixirs. So it moves and is good,” Link signed, not really looking towards the others. But instead thinking about what else moved that could be eaten. Other things that were insects and animals, that was.

“See, Wild gets it,” Hyrule nodded.

Wind looked like he didn’t know if he was going to be sick or interested. His face blotched with spots of yellow, “Ye have stomachs of sailors.”

Malon laughed bright and loud, “A farmer’s stomach, we say!”

Conversation flowed easy after that, favourite foods were a topic that could do no wrong. And it was something Link loved to listen to, he learned so many recipes he had never heard about before. Many with ingredients his era did not have. It was interesting, something that made him excited to jump between time and space. He may have left his Zelda behind, but he could take pictures for her. Write down descriptions and take some specimens along. Perhaps they would find farm crops that were beneficial or easy to grow in certain environments that had disappeared through time and disasters. With the right plants or combination of seeds, they could revolutionair farming in their era.

The idea excited Link. 

A goal. An actual, tangible goal. Not a vague quest to defeat the origin of black blooded monsters. An evil they had no name or face for. In Link’s era, monsters had already bled black. When the blood moons had started to disappear, so had the blood started to lighten into something more of a red. But they never bled red like Hylians. Blood moons were directly connected with the return of Ganon and Malice, foretold or not. 

It was the same infection that made the citizens so very sick after the upheaval. But instead of weakening, the monsters grew stronger and smarter. It was the exact opposite, very curious. An idea started bubbling up in Link’s jumbled brain.

If weakened Hylians got healed by the Sundalions, would the strengthened monsters get weakened by it? Link would have to discuss it with Zelda and Purah.

“Wild,” Wind had appeared next to him, his small hand pulling Link's tunic, “Will ya come with I? To the outside?” He looked nervous and troubled, his chin stubbled as they tend to do when hylians pull weird faces.

“Of course,” Link tried to sound warm but his voice would never fully sound as gentle as he wished it to.

“Will ya let me join ya two?” Malon also appeared beside him and it was only then that Link noticed that everyone had gotten up and about, “They’re doing the dishes,” She answered his confusion.

Wind glanced at Link before nodding, “Sure,” He said almost carefully.

The teen never let go of Link’s tunic, even as they made their way outside. It was sweet, although worrying. Wind wasn’t one to take a lot of distance, but he normally didn’t cling to Link in the way he was doing now.

The evening air was chilly. But it was pleasant enough to keep his champion’s tunic on. It was quickly getting dark, the lights of the house only illuminating a small distance around it. It made it possible for the stars to really start shining through already, even if night was not at its ultimate height. They looked different compared to his, making constellations that didn’t exist in his era. And missing the ones he did have. 

Link was so far from home. 

Wind kept pulling him forward, Malon next to them, content with the silence that was only filled with critters and farm animals. Horses bristling around, goats that were starting to settle down and the cucco’s that never seemed to stop. It was a familiarity that would always put Link at ease.

“Here,” The young hero settled down on some abandoned hay, pulling Link down with him. 

Malon happily fell into the hay as well, explaining much about her appearance, “So, little one, what’re we doin’?”

Wind finally let go of Link, just to start wringing his hands nervously, “The sky,” He was forcing himself, “Is she here?”

Ah.

“She should be,” Link had to use his voice, it was too dark to sign, even if he did not like it. Tears already stinged the back of his eyes. It was all so very recent.

“Who?” Malon asked, her curiosity clear.

He felt Wind shift next to him, uncertain what to answer to a question only Link had any right to answer. But he also did not know what to say. He had told Sun because of who she was. The strongest connection Link would be able to have with his Zelda when not in his era. Not even the Zelda’s from other era’s would be as close to her as Sun. She was the first Zelda, one that lived in the very skies where his Zelda flew. 

Taking Wind along had never been the plan, but still he did. The desperation in the teen’s eyes had been his breaking point. Link looked at them and saw himself, he could not bear to disappoint or hurt Wind. It would be too confrontational to his own trauma and hurt. 

And he would not say that Malon was not kind as Sun, nor wasn't she not sweet like Wind. But he wondered if it would be smart to tell her, to expose such a fragile part of his heart to someone that was so close to Time. Even if she disregarded Time’s odd attempts at creating conflict with Link. 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Malon whispered, careful to not break the peace of the moment, “You heroes have so many secrets, even my fairy boy has not told all of his to me.”

Wind shuffled, rustling the hay, “And ya don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” Her smile could be heard in her voice, “Your journeys are yours,” She was too kind. Patient in a matter that most were not. In a matter her own husband was not. Or at least, not with Link, “I can go, I will not ask for anymore explanation.”

Link took a deep breath, “You can stay,” Wind grasped his arm and Link’s heart ached.

“Thank you,” Malon whispered before falling back into the silence of the night.

So they stayed for a minute or two before Wind got the courage again to continue, “Is she lonely?”

Goddess, he hoped she was not. He would pray day and night to make sure Hylia gave Zelda peace of mind through those millions of years alone. For he did not know for sure, neither was Zelda last time they spoke of it, if she had been there of mind. She experienced moments of confusement, moments she thought to be back in the skies. But she did not know if they were memories of moments that merely passed, that now she coloured in with fear and loneliness. Or if they were memories, true to her experiences in those moments. It was all a mess of memories and feelings, and she hadn’t had the time to untangle them.

“No,” Link lied, “She was entirely consumed by it, so she did not experience it like a hylian.”

He hoped.

Oh how he hoped.

“How long was she up there?”

“We’re not sure.”

“When did’ye find out?”

He remembered finding out, the smell of silent princesses comforting him as he fell out of the memory. His tears hot on his cheeks and the sun bearing down as if Link’s world hadn’t just been destroyed beneath its rays. 

Link hadn’t told anyone, not for a long time. 

But no one had seen him for a long time, either. They couldn’t, Link had been grieving his princess for so very long even if she was literally beneath him. He had listened to her music, felt her magic and mourned. Day cycles passed and before long, a blood moon had gone by again, signalling a moon cycle. 

The knowledge that monsters reappeared on crucial travel points was the only thing that compelled him to move. To leave her behind. But her presence was everywhere from that moment. He searched for her in every sky, asked the other divine dragons where she was. Even his travel logs on the Purah Pad were imprinted by her existence. Her fly path forever mapped out.

Link had known and he had mourned, “A while after my quest started, a long while before it ended.”

“I’m sorry,” Wind’s voice was thick with emotions, “Ya should be with her, not here,” He covered his eyes with his arms, as if hiding them would cover the tears.

And although Link could feel his own grieve overtake his entire being. How his loneliness, that only worsened every day, took control of his lungs and squeezed it until he was out of breath. And how his longing for home and Zelda electrified every fibre of his supposedly mortal body. Yet he still could feel his heart weaken and tremble even more for this hero. Just a teen, so small and so sweet. He was supposed to be home, with his family, just like Link. 

As Wind’s body shook with suppressed sobs, Link pulled him closer. Letting the teen curl into his side, even if the scars made it so that the touch felt distant. 

He didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to join this cursed group of heroes. Link wanted to be home and he wanted his peace. But if he was forced to be there, he was glad that Wind was one the heroes around him. 

“You’re a good kid, Link,” He whispered into Wind’s hair and pretended not to notice how the sobs grew louder.

--

“Why is my husband against you?” Malon asked long after Wind had cried himself to sleep, her voice was hard in a way Link hadn’t heard before.

“We had a disagreement shortly after we met,” Link answered truthfully, “If there is more to it, I wouldn’t know what it was.”

“I see.”

"How can you see? It is dark."

Chapter Text

Now give him a glass of booze and call his mother a cow. Wild could hold his liquor! The man chugged down a pint of mead with brazen confidence. His eyes tightly shut as he drowned away the day. 

Warriors couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh, oh this was about to be an amazing night!

With a slam, Wild put down the wooden cup, his cheeks slightly blushed, “This’s shit,” He murmured with discontent. 

“Can’t disagree, my friend!” Warriors clapped a hand on the other man’s shoulder, “But it does the job, don’t it?” He grinned at the slight glare Wild gave him. Those terrifying blue eyes dimmed in the dark tavern and the alcohol. 

Wild shrugged off his hand, “You’re loud,” He huffed. 

“Thank you! It is quite difficult to have such a booming voice!” He laughed and threw back his pint too, “Darling, another pair of mead,” Warriors winked at the passing waitress, she rolled her eyes at him but that didn’t bother him. 

“Pervert.”

Warriors’ head swivelled to Wild, his mouth slightly agape, “How preposterous! I am no pervert,” With big movements, he grabbed the tunic where his heart was supposed to be, “Wild, you have wounded me with your words!” And it was a miracle that he was using his words, wasn’t it? Warriors tried not to smile dumbly at that fact.

Wild raised his eyebrows, narrowed his eyes and his nose scrunched. The classic ‘you can’t be fucking serious’ look. One of the most used faces in Wild’s arsenal. Should Warriors or any of the others, for that, be proud of that? No! But is he, anyway? He sure is!

“Wild, my dear friend,” And that look only got more pronounced, “I simply have to show my admiration for when I witness beauty!”

It was at that moment that the waitress returned, her gaze sour as she looked at Warriors. She put down his pint harshly, spilling some onto the stained table. But when she put down Wild’s pint, she softened, “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Wild smiled and Warriors had never seen that smile before. It was airy, showing his teeth just the right amount, with one of the corners of his mouth slightly raised higher than the other. Oh, that sneaky bastard! “Can you recommend me a drink, sweet and sugary?” He slanted his head, his hair sliding across his neck, exposing the harsh lines of it. 

And it was as if another waitress had replaced the woman, her artificially blushed cheeks, more natural and spread out now. Her smile more shy than confident, “Of course,” She brushed her hair behind her ear, “We have a flower infused mead, with hints of apple. It’s one of my personal favourites, just sweet enough on the tongue but not biting in the throat.”

“That sounds delightful,” He leaned forward on the table, keeping eye contact with her the entire time “Will you bring me two of them?” 

“Naturally,” She nodded slightly before turning away, lightly making her way over to the bar.

“And that,” Wild had a smug smile on his dumb face, “Is how you do it.”

Warriors didn’t know if he wanted to jump with joy or slap away that smugness, “You arsehole,” He laughed instead, “Who knew you had it in ya!”

The other man shrugged, sipping from his mead with a sour face, “You’re just tacky,” Warriors couldn’t disagree, “And creepy.”

Now that? That did hit a cord, a very sensitive cord. He grasped his heart again, falling onto the table with a loud gasp, “Creepy?!”

If Wild found Warriors' dramatics odd or over the top, he didn’t let it show, “Yes,” He casually kept sipping from his mead, “Creepy. Threatening. Disgusting-”

“Okay okay!” Warriors raised his hands in defeat, “I get it, I get it.”

The look he got from Wild told him that the hero didn’t believe him. But Wild didn’t go into it, “You try too hard.”

“And you try too little,” Warriors tried to dispute but it was a dumb argument.

“Here you go,” The waitress put down two glasses that were too beautiful and pristine to be in a place like the moody and decrepit tavern. Damn, Warriors didn’t even know they had any real glass. But there the two pints were. Large, patterned and textured pieces of art, filled with a light looking mead, “Will that be all, sir?” She smiled dainty.

“Please, call me Champ,” Wild held out his hand which she took immediately, “And you are?”

She averted her eyes, “Tilly,” She shook his hand and let it go slowly, lingering just noticeably.

“Well then, Tilly,” Champ took one of the glasses, took a big gulp of it before he raised it high, “A toast to you and your good taste.”

Without much time or grandiosity, the woman grinned before slipping a paper into Wild’s hand. Leaving their table with a little hand gesture and was already on her way to other patrons calling for her.

“You were saying?” Wild held the paper up, a satisfied smirk on his face.

What a douchebag, “Alright alright,” Warriors surrendered with a sigh, “You win, crazy lad,” The other hero seemed satisfied with it and with his victory he gulped down the disgusting mead, “What’re you goin’ to do with that?” He asked, nodding at the paper, abandoned on the table.

Wild raised an eyebrow, “This isn’t my era.”

“And? See it as a holiday sweetheart,” Warriors also downed his pint of mead, already anticipating the sweet drink that Tilly had brought.

“Is that what you do, Warriors?” Wild leaned forward, his gaze hard, “Go around places you will never be again and leave hurt and pain with the people you have met?”

Well, Warriors thought awkwardly, that was a harsh read on his behaviour. He tried to ignore the question by drinking away his attention, but it was empty. Damn. He forgot, “I never promise to stay,” He had to answer and grabbed the second glass of the flowery mead, “If I leave hurt everywhere I go, then it is not deliberate.”

Wild regarded him with narrowed eyes, his brows furrowed, the blue toxic, “Alright,” He eased and fell back, taking his glass as well, “If you say so, captain.”

Now, why did he say the word in such a tone? Warriors pouted, he felt like he just got insulted, somehow, “You’re such a bore, Wild,” He shook his head, “Maybe I should’ve dragged along Twilight anyway,” Raised eyebrows were the only response he got to that, “Or Time-” Ah, a roll of the eyes. Progress! “Now Wild, what makes you a better drinking buddy than those two?”

Wild raised his glass, sipping from it slowly, obviously thinking, “What makes you think I want to be your drinking buddy?” He asked, mouth hidden behind his drink.

“Well, you’re here, aren’t you!”

Wild scoffed, “I needed a drink,” He looked away, “Especially after these few weeks.”

Was Warriors imagining it, or was Wild starting to be very honest by now? It was a miracle enough that the man had been talking to him, at all. But he was tired and the tavern was dark, and perhaps the alcohol was getting to him as well. 

Would it be ethical for him to get some truths out of the intoxicated man?

Oh well, he was literally a captain in the army! Ethics were never in his books!

“You not havin’ a good time?” Warriors asked, almost feeling bad. Almost.

Wild laughed, unbelief in the sound, “Nice try Cap’,” He put down the glass just a bit too hard, his eyes narrowed again, “I’m not tipsy enough for that,” With a wave he pulled the attention of a waiter, someone else than Tilly, to their table, “And neither are you.”

Warriors should have known that was a warning to what was to come. 

Warriors should’ve pulled the stops to their drinking.

But instead, he smirked, “Bring it on, kid.”

Shit went by real quick then, the flowery drink they kept ordering turned out to be much heavier in alcohol contents than the basic mead they had started with. It was also much nicer of taste, so they kept drinking it fast-paced and with no breaks for water in between. Warriors was having fun, he had to admit, Wild’s nonsensical ramblings and stories amused his blurred mind.

When Warriors laughed about the fact, Wild got mad, he was not telling stories, he said. All his words were truth and history. Wild had defeated a Lynel with a stick! He had solved a political crisis by stalking the major candidates, just to find out they were idiots. And he did tame all animals! From horses to bears to a mountain deity! 

Silly silly Wild.

At one point Tilly had come by, worry on her face when she saw the amount of empty cups that decorated their table by now. Wild had teared up at her concern and started apologising for leading her on when he would likely never return to the tavern. Before she could accept or reject his regrets, he pulled out a massive ruby from his Purah Pad, “Here,” He had sniffed, “Take this, buy yourself a pretty thing with it,” Wild said as if that size of a jewel wouldn’t be able to buy her a house. Tilly gratefully accepted it, and before long Warriors heard her yell that she was quitting ‘this shitty job’. She sounded happy about it.

“Yer a good guy, Wild,” Warriors lulled, the taste of blossoms numbing his tongue, “So good.”

Wild glared, an exaggerated pout on his face, “Shut up,” He swatted aimlessly in the air, “I’m nat listenin’ to yu!”

“GASP-”

“Did’ye really said ‘gasp’,” Wild gaped, “Ye ‘sgust mi,”

Warriors laughed, and kept on laughing, even when it wasn’t funny anymore. Even when it had never been funny before. Wild had joined him at a moment, but the night was starting to merge with his mind. Yet he didn’t care, he hadn’t had such fun in ages!

“Ya!” He hiccuped, “Stop,” He made a big X with his arms, “Fightnin’ tha old man!”

Wild raised his hand and let it fall heavily on Warriors' arm, a big frown on his face, “Tell ‘im tha’, I’m doin’ notin’!”

Ehhh, was that the truth though? Warriors could remember Wild doing things that were obviously going to end up in trouble, so…….. Eh, what did he know? 

“Alrigh- alrigh-” Warriors pulled Wild to him, slapping his arm around the other’s shoulder, “Wild, Wild, Wild, Wild, Wild, Wild, Wild-”

“What?” Wild shoved him in the ribs.

“Are ye nah havin’ a swell time?” He barely remembered what he wanted to ask, “Are ya happy?”

The silence from the man stung in such a loud place, especially after so much chatter from him. His downward eyes, hidden from Warriors' view, they already said so much.

“Wild-”

“Shut up,” Wild shoved him again, but it was softer, with less effort, “Asshole.”

So they sat there in silence, the sound of the other rambunctious visitors did little to break their fragile little bubble. Why had Warriors remembered to ask! Why did he want to know at all, when the answer was so clear anyway! Dumb dumb Warriors! After this night he was never going to touch a drop of alcohol ever again! No sir no, he was going to go sober! It is what Artemis had asked him to do, anyway. Maybe Impa would go easy on him as a reward next time they sparred?! 

Wait- what was he doing again?

Ah! Comforting Wild!

Uhhh, “Ye got’n a lover at home?”

Wild sighed, “He’s gott’n married,” He looked up with an upset pout, “And ye knew tha!”

Someone needed to punch Warriors, and hard. He deserved it. What kinda idiot was he? “M’sorry,” Pathetic apology, he admitted.

“Asshole.”

He had to accept that too. 

“Pretentious.”

Alright, that he could agree on as well.

“Dumb scarf.”

“HEY!” Now the man went too far, “Not tha scarf, bad Wild.”

Wild shook his head, his hair swishing around dramatically, “M’no dog!”

“D’mn right, yer a mut!”

“Ya wanna fight?!” Wild had shoved him off completely by now, “I’ll beat yer arse!” Imaginary sword slashes were directed at Warriors. 

And the captain blocked all of them, his cheeks red, eyes dazed, “Come’t mi then!” He stood up, inviting the other hero to attack. 

“Whoah whoah whoah,” An older man came between them, “No fightin’ ‘ere lads,” He gave them both a stern look, Wild wilted under it. And Warriors was gonna beat that man’s ass for it, “Pay yer tabs and get outta ‘ere.” 

Warriors was about to do none of that, he would show the man to not mess with his brothers! That was what he was about to do! Yeah, fight that old man’s ass! From the floor! 

…

Why was he on the floor?

“Drunks,” The old man tutted above him while spinning around, why was he spinning? A few golden rupees got shoved into his wrinkled hands, eyes went wide at the sight, “Sir-”

Wild waved him off, “Keep the change,” He mumbled, his hand out for Warriors to take, “Ya fell, dumbass.”

Well, that was rude. Still, Warriors took his hand, gratefully. His head spun with the sudden movement when he got pulled up. He was never touching alcohol, ever again. 

“Let's leave,” Wild pulled him along, out of the tavern, into the chilled night with its big moon, “Why’s always near’n a full moon,” He murmured. 

Warriors snorted, “Ya don’t know?”

Wild raised an eyebrow, “What?”

“Full moons return every month,” He now full-on laughed, didn’t Wild know that?! Oh how funny, why didn’t Wild know something so simple?! Ahhhh, ridiculous kid. 

“Asshole,” Wild let go of his hand, shoving him instead of keeping the soft touch.

It just made Warriors laugh more, stumbling around, trying his best to not fall, “Common’ Wild!” He boasted, “Let’s find ‘nother tavern!” He took the hero’s hand again, pulling him further into the future with a bad hangover.

The second tavern had no such mead as the first one, though it did have a clear drink that stunk incredibly. It didn’t go in easy, but that did not stop them. 

The third tavern had only light drinks that somehow made their heads spin faster than before.

The fourth tavern didn’t let them enter.

The fifth let them in with laughter but refused to give them more after a few drinks each.

The sixth was closed. And so were all of the others by then. 

Wild and Warriors stumbled and skipped to their next destination with little care for the silence of the night. They were comfortably warm, the poison in their veins heating their cooling bodies. Their laughter masked the crickets of the night. Warriors shoved down Wild, and Wild shoved Warriors against a wall. All with giggles and threats. Throwing golden rupees into a fountain, loudly wishing for the other to trip over a pebble.

It was mighty fun. Shenanigans Warriors had missed since leaving his era with the other heroes. None of the legal-abled drinking heroes were fun drunks. They were sombre and calm, and no shade to them! But Warriors missed swaying through abandoned streets, singing old men’s songs while supporting each other's weight. Laughing hard when one of them fell. 

“Oh!” Wild stopped abruptly, his mouth agape in wonder, “I want,” He pointed high up in the air.

Warriors had to squint to see it, he was pointing to the top of the temple, “What?” There was nothing to see except the- “The bells?” He asked in shock, but looking down at Wild he could only see unfiltered excitement. His eyes glittered at the mere thought, “Why?”

“Shiny.”

Well, that was certainly a motive. Warriors was about to say no, but the other hero was grinning wide. Slightly jumping on the spot with excessive energy, no matter how unstable he was. It was the most excited Warriors had ever seen Wild. 

… They shouldn’t steal. Especially not from a temple.

But then again, he was a captain- what were ethics? He didn’t know her- Fuck it, they were stealing those temple bells. 

Pulling Wild along, he made his way over to the large wooden door of the temple. It was locked, but with a good whack with a sturdy sword hilt at the brittle mechanism, it broke off. 

“After you,” Warriors bowed jokingly, extending his arms into the temple to show Wild the way. The man rolled his eyes but went in anyway, his excitement making him impatient. 

It was a fairly standard temple. A statue of Hylia, wooden banks that ought to be uncomfortable. Stained windows with stories that Warriors didn’t know. Donation boxes at the right side of the building. A ladder to the top-

“Bingo,” Warriors grinned, “Wild, common’.”

Wild held up a finger, “Gettin’ permission,” He said before making an unstable way over to the statue. Like that was going to do something.

Wait-

It came back to him, the day they left Wild’s era- How had he forgotten? “Wild!” Warriors stumbled after him, trying to yell in a hushed way, “Ye can’t ask the Goddess’s permission to steal ‘er bells!”

Wild looked behind him, his brows furrowed, “Yes, I can,” And so he could. The moment Wild stepped up onto the altar, the room got bathed in gold. The oppressive energy that Warriors associated with the portals filled the room, “Yo,” Wild greeted her as if she were an old friend. And warriors, he was beginning to think that he was hallucinating. They were in a temple, asking the Goddess permission to steal her bells! Totally normal, totally average! Every drunk did that! “Just the bells,” Wild nodded, Warriors hadn’t even realised the goddamn goddess had responded! That was it, they were both gonna suffer eternally in the afterlife! “Thanks, Hylia.”

The glow disappeared and Wild turned around with a big grin, “Let’go.”

Warriors stumbled after Wild to go steal some bells. Was it even stealing if the Goddess gave them permission? He was pretty sure it wasn’t. 

Wait, wait- No, Warriors was hallucinating! Wild just disappeared into the ceiling. What the fuck. Looking at his hands, Warriors counted all his fingers- one, two, three, four, five, six, eight, nine, ten- He wasn’t hallucinating, then? What was going on? Warriors felt like crying, he was so confused. Murmuring about the strangeness of the evening, he began climbing up the ladder. Why was he doing this- oh his heart, his foot had slipped and it was only because he had decent muscles that he hadn’t fallen. 

“Wild!! Goddamnit!”

A head popped up at the opening above, “Hm?”

“You gon’ be mi death!” Warriors glared up, “My death!” Wild shrugged and pulled away, leaving him alone. Damn him. Damn Hylia. He pulled himself up the last ladder, “Wild, ya shit!” Wait where the fuck was Wild?

The space was not very big. The ladder ended up at the very edge of the tower, immediately looking out over the town. The wind harsh and cold so far up. You could just about walk around the bell. It hung in the middle of the stone structure. Somehow the town had acquired a beautifully ingrained golden one, too. Perhaps that was why it had pulled the attention of Wild. 

Speaking of, “Wild?”

“Yes?” His voice was muffled and distorted. As if he was in a hollow room- oh Hylia damnit-

“Why’rya in tha bell?” Warriors got on his knees and yeah, there were Wild’s feet sticking out from under the bell, like the lunatic he was, “How-” He snorted, the ridiculousness of the situation making him go mental, “I’m not drunk enough for this-” He wheezed.

“I used rewind wrong,” Wild said muffled and Warriors could perfectly imagine the pout the man was wearing, “Was a mistake, ‘lright?”

It made the cap only laugh more, his lungs felt too small for it all, “What the fack is rewind,” He barely got the question out with how busy he was with not dying from lack of air. 

“This-” Ticking filled the air, a yellow shine brightened the bell just before it started moving, as if it was going to announce the hour. Wild stood in the middle of it, calm and collected, “Is rewind,” He showed off his metal arm, his glowing metal arm. Before moving from underneath the bell and snapping his finger. The yellow glow disappeared.

Yeah no, he was hallucinating. Was he sure he didn’t miscount his fingers?

“I was’ tryin’ to get it loose,” Wild explained. Not that it explained anything. But who was Warriors to point that out? It was not as if he was the sane one between them two! “But got’n stuck ‘nstead.”

Sure, whatever at this point.

“Just pull that out,” Warriors pointed up where the bell was attached to the framework with the headstock. Just sliding out one of the pins of the mechanic would loosen up the thing. 

Wild nodded enthusiastically, immediately doing what Warriors had suggested. And wasn’t that something new? Actually being listened to. The moment Wild had gotten the thing free, it disappeared in blue lights, into the Purah Pad. 

Great, they were officially criminals. 

The hero of the Wilds nodded satisfied looking at the screen of his purah pad, a glint in those mischievous eyes. Had he been a kleptomanic this entire time? 

“Insane.”

“Hm?” Wild looked up from his screen, an easy smile on his face. 

“Nothing,” Warriors looked away, his gaze on the town beneath them, “We goin’ back?”

The blue from the Purah pad stopped lighting up the now empty tower, “We could,” There was an obvious ‘or’ coming and Warriors was already anticipating it, “ Or we can gnome hunt.”

Gnome hunt? Warriors tried to find the joke on Wild’s face but found none, “Fuck it, let’s go.”

--

Warriors awoke with a horrifying throb in the head, it was oppressive, all overtaking. He didn’t even dare to open his eyes. Goddam, what had he done? He and Wild went out for a few drinks and then- Oh Hylia, what had they done? He dragged a hand across his face and groaned, “Wild-” His voice was hoarse and painful.

His friend shushed him, turning around loudly on the rustling material they were lying on- huh. Warriors dared to open an eye just ever so slightly, where were they? The last thing he remembered was them being chased out of a garden by a stubby little man waving around a roller. And now he was lying in… hay? Hay.

Who’s hay?

A weight on Warriors' chest, that he hadn’t noticed before, moved. And made noise. Oh, oh no- It purred, a very low and subtle sound, not unlike a cat. But that was no cat. Warriors' gaze shifted slowly from the hay to his chest and yeah- that was not a cat alright.

“Buk buk?”

Warriors had never before jumped up that fast, panic and adrenaline in his veins as he scanned the room, now wide awake. Cucco’s. They were everywhere where he looked! The cucco that he had thrown off glared at Warriors, flapping its wings in anger. But that wasn’t his biggest problem, no, Wild was covered in them! 

“Wild,” Warriors yelled hushed, not daring to step closer, “Wild!”

“Shut up-”

Hylia damn, “Wake up!”

The other man finally turned around again, glaring at Warriors with tired eyes, “What?” 

“We have to leave- before they attack,” The captain, dared to come a bit closer to Wild to pull at his tunic, “Wild, get up!”

But Wild didn’t get up, instead, he sighed deeply, massaging his temple, “We gave them gnomes, we’re fine,” And he turned around again, wiggling into the hay and taking a cucco into his arms. As if it was a damn stuffy!

“Insane Wild, you’re insane,” Warriors started backing up, the man lost it! Totally gone and lost his sanity! 

“Mhm, w’ever ya say,” He snuggled even more with the damn demon.

That man would be the death of him! Warriors didn’t know yet what crazy action of Wild would be the final nail in the coffin but he wasn’t about to find out! 

“Ba-gawk?” One of the cucco’s had woken up, its eyes of beads focused on Warriors, “Buk buk?” It jumped closer, tilting its head, “Buk?”

Warriors felt the sweat drip down his spine, “G-good cucco-” His voice trembled, “Nice cucco-”

“Buk,” The cucco only came closer, hopping twice for every step Warriors took, “Buk buk buk?”

“Wild,” Warriors felt like crying, “Help.”

“No.”

“Wild,” Oh Hylia, he was about to die. The beast only came closer and Warriors didn’t want to risk running for it would perhaps trigger it. But the door was close now, he could feel the draft, and his freedom was already promised- a piece of the floor stuck out. Just a tiny piece of wood, and Warriors fell. The thud of his large and heavy body woke up the den of beasts. Their beady eyes focused on him.

“Buk?” They almost bawked in unity. It was loud and just not yet in sync. 

Warriors tried to remember, had he given his will to Impa before he left? He hoped he did. He lay there hopelessly, the door so close by but his way over was already obstructed by the army of birds. He was finished.

“P-please-”

“Ba-gawk!” A cucco, sitting high up screamed and suddenly, in a tidal wave, the creatures ran towards him. And Warriors had never before screamed that loudly in terror.

Chapter Text

The soul was an abstract idea, one that most didn’t quite agree on. Its existence itself was the main discussion. Even with all the myths and proven magic, a soul and your belief in them was a matter of religion. Twilight had never really cared, too busy with managing goats and small children. Yet, he was one of so few who got proof of its existence. 

He himself was proof. 

His brothers, all around him, pulled from other eras and dimensions, were proof. 

And, oh, was it odd to see them walk around. The issue of a soul was that it was a singular experience, one that you had difficulty to explain if you were not a master of words or perhaps, a lover of philosophy. But when that singular experience became not so very singular, it made the existence of it clear. There was a pull, recognition.

It was odd, though. To get to know other versions of your soul, all impacted by different lives and circumstances. Turning the same essentials into unique Hylians. All of them similar enough to get away with the family story in towns, but still their own. Shaped by who they were born by, which era they lived, who they came across. 

The same soul but different stories. 

The same soul, doomed for tragedy. And yet, even their fated disasters did not look the same. 

It was surreal to Twilight to live and walk among those differences. Bizarre and difficult to describe in the same way the soul itself was. And if he had lived another life, not one that was tainted by dark magic and a canine side, he wasn’t so sure he would have dealt with it very well. The odd connection they all had made the quest more intense. 

They were family. 

Twilight had never been good at seeing family in pain or trouble. 

It was that plain truth that made the part of him that was oh so very primal, jump out when he heard Warriors scream. It was a terrified and blood-curdling sound, one he had never heard his brothers make before. It spurred him into action faster than he had ever before. It resulted in feet turning to paws. Smooth skin into fur. Twilight felt the familiar magic pull at his bones, twist them in shapes they didn’t belong in. Smell, sight, hearing- all of them instantaneously stronger, almost overwhelming. And yet he never stopped running.

Warriors was screaming and no amount of pain or body horror would ever be able to stop Twilight from running to go save him. The canine part that had taken almost completely only strengthened that desire. Protective of his own. One minded when there was a threat

When he was like that, he could only run and ignore everything else. The horses he so endeared quickly left behind, no apologies to the startled cows. Not even his soul calling to him with different voices than his own could make him slow down. Twilight had to get to Warriors, save him from whatever horrors were haunting the man. 

In the far side corner of the farm stood a small barn. It was plenty large for a few Hylians to stand in it but lessened the options of which monsters were threatening the life of an experienced hero. The normally warm reds of the Lon Lon Farm’s barns, looked menacing with the screaming. Its homeliness transformed into bloodiness. And the closer he got, the larger the barn appeared, the more determined the wolf became. 

It barged into the space, the door already slightly a jar. His teeth exposed and a growl already thundering. He barked (and oh wasn’t that embarrassing) loudly, making sure that the beasts knew he had arrived and that he was ready for the beasts that were mauling his brother and- oh.

Twilight shifted on his paws as he looked around. Warriors was spread out flat on his back in the middle of the small barn, hay covered his entire body, as did cucco’s. So so many cucco’s. But for how many cucco’s there were, there were also just as many garden gnomes lying around. They were neatly set up, entire scenes playing out with them. It was an odd sight that rendered Twilight motionless. There were no monsters, only two sorts of homely demons. Cucco’s and garden gnomes. Both loved by grannies, both had deep evil in their eyes. 

A slight purring pulled his attention to the corner. Multiple cucco’s sat on a moving mountain of hay. Ah, Twilight saw his blond hair between the strays of hay first, just before he noticed Wild’s eyes, already focused on him. Intent and focused. Cold and all seeing. 

Eyes that made Twilight think of creatures that lurked in the shadows of forests. Observing. Analysing. Ready to pounce or flee any moment. Tense in the danger of the woods. 

But Wild and he had a bond. One that the Lady decided on would be strong enough for Twilight to mentor Wild in the future. Someone who would teach the young hero how to survive, how to fight. A rock of comfort in an adventure that would test all parts of the cub. His tenacity, abilities and will to survive. Just like Time had been to him. Twilight would be that rock for Wild. He would support him the same way Twilight had been.

And yet, when Twilight looked in those eyes at that moment, he didn’t feel like the Lady had chosen right. 

He had thought that they were slowly getting along, that the cub just needed a few more weeks for it all to settle. Maybe a few more group conversations to clear up the air between them all. And Twilight knew it would be easier said than done, that the group was tense and Wild even tenser. But he also had felt like some progress had been made, and yet.

Wild’s heart was beating loudly. He hadn’t blinked once since making eye contact. His hold on a cucco had tightened. 

Wild had said an older version of Twilight had come to his help. Talking about it, Wild had such a fond look in his eyes. The pressure they normally possessed had fallen away just for a moment. He wasn’t a predator in the shadows anymore, neither a scared animal ready to flee. When talking about the wolf in his era, he was… different. Unlike the Wild that joined them on their quest. 

Free. 

It was why Twilight thought that the moment he showed up before Wild as Wolfie would change something in their relationship. That it would become the moment where their bond would really be established. But Wild’s eyes, his heart, his lungs- Was he so wrong to have expected the hero to open his arms with a smile? Happy to see Wolfie again? His mentor, his rock, his support- Twilight thought Wolfie would be the key. That his Hylian side would never be able to do what the Lady wanted of him. But-

He could hear Warriors shrieking in the background, and he knew he should probably help the man. But Wild looked at Twilight as if he could lunge at the cub at any moment.

Wasn’t this the moment where Wild would finally give Twilight a real chance? Wasn’t this the start?

And if it was not, what was Twilight supposed to do? What was it that his future self did so differently? Had Twilight himself changed that drastically in the future, that he would never be able to recreate their bond in the present they now shared?

Wild opened his mouth but closed it just as quickly. 

What was Twilight doing wrong?

How was he supposed to create a bond similar to the one he had with Time? Could he even do it? Twilight didn’t see what the Lady saw, did not have the same vision She had. And was it because She was a Goddess that made it so that She had trust in Twilight’s abilities? What could She see that he could not, which resulted in Her believing Twilight would be good for Wild?

He stared in that blue and felt desperation bubble up in his entire being, he wanted to see what She saw. Just a spark so Twilight could believe Wild would come to him for comfort in the same way he went to Time. That Wild would come to him for advice and reassurance, so he had someone to hold onto like Twilight had. 

Twilight wanted to hear stories from the future, the shenanigans they were up to. Like he told Time about their time together. He wanted them to create new memories, ones they could have at the same time. Establish inside jokes and trust, build on them now. 

But Wild’s eyes were cold. So unlike the moment he talked about Wolfie or when he conversed with Sun. His being shone in her presence and Twilight wasn’t so sure if Wild was a moon, reflecting Sun’s brilliance. Or if he himself had a light in his core, one that couldn’t show with them. And he wasn’t so sure which of the two he would prefer.

What was a truth that Twilight would rather live with? That Wild could not bloom because Twilight was a being of the dark? Or that the hero of the Wilds was like a sunflower being kept in a dark room?

And did it actually matter in the end? When Wild ultimately still kept himself small and far removed from them? 

The Lady was wrong. Whatever She had in mind for them was not going to happen on this quest. Because Wild did not trust them. Did not trust Twilight. And that was just as difficult to admit as the fact that it was not Wild’s fault that they had no bond. 

Twilight should’ve tried harder when things started going bad. He was to blame. 

But even if he knew it was his own fault, it did not make it hurt any less. They had the same soul and yet, they did not understand each other. They lived through the quest on different wavelengths, merely brushing against each other. Both of them pretending they were closer than they actually were. Twilight chose to keep up the appearance that it wasn’t painful to be of the same soul and yet not connected. Wild giving the illusion of closeness to not only him, but to many of their brothers.

“Wild,” Warriors was practically begging, “Please help-”

But despite his calls for help, neither of them responded. 

Instead Twilight moved farther away, his paws bringing him to Wild ever so slowly. And he didn’t know why, he should be helping Warriors. He could just run and flee from all of it, he wanted to do that. And yet, he was practically crawling to Wild, body low to the ground, ears drooping. Twilight wanted to hide in the back corner of the stables to maybe cry a bit, perhaps he could beg for the Lady to listen and answer his questions. It wouldn’t be the first time she answered a Link, after all. But a part of him, the canine one, wanted different. It made him approach Wild, why? Twilight wasn’t so sure.

Yes, they were supposed to have a bond, Wild was supposed to be a part of his family. But why would that make it so that the wolf part of him wanted it to actually happen? Why did Twilight feel such an urge to go lick Wild’s cheeks to try to comfort him? Attempt to warm his heart by dropping his entirely too big of a body on him?

What made it so that he could not will his body to turn around? To go help Warriors?

Did it, just like the Lady, know more than Twilight? Did it want to prove that Twilight wrong and the Lady right? 

Was it lonely? Even when they had seven brothers to fill whatever void the wolf was feeling? 

No matter what it was, Twilight couldn’t ignore it even if he tried. It pulled and it pushed. It wanted to comfort Wild, soften those eyes, calm his heart. 

It wanted its cub. Wild was supposed to be family in a way that transcended their soul connection, even more so than the others. It longed for something and it meant that the wolf would be willing to push Wild’s boundaries. Ignore the way its cub pressed himself against the wall. How his heart quickened and his breathing became shallow. 

Their cub-

“What’s going on here?”

Twilight’s head snapped to his mentor’s voice, warmth overtook his heart. Time was here. He could help. He could tell Twilight what he did wrong, what he could do to change it. Twilight would finally be able to satisfy that nagging part of him. Finally, he could bond with Wild-

A heartbeat overtook all noise. 

It was irregular, erratic, even. Loud and heavy. Filled with fear. It was not Warriors, for all that the cucco’s and the odd gnomes were unsettling, they were harmless. The birds were just swarming him, perhaps enjoying his squeamishness. So it had been easy to cast out the man and his panicked heart. 

It was a calm heart compared to the one that took his attention. 

Cold washed over him, it was not Warriors’ heart. It was not Time’s and certainly not his own. He had thought that Wild’s heart had been beating harshly before, but he looked back and saw a Wild he hadn’t seen before. 

Twilight tried to become close with Wild, so he could become a mentor to the hero. Wild may not have needed it, but it was written in the fate’s it would happen. But Twilight didn’t mind because he had Time. Their relationship was not just swordsmanship and hardship. It was so much more, Time was a source of comfort, laughter and happiness for him. And Twilight wouldn’t have minded being that comfort for someone else. But Wild-

His blue electric eyes followed every movement Time made. His hold on the cucco had lessened, but his arms were tense. Breathing shallow but measured, he was in control even if his body was being surged with adrenaline. 

Time, such a comfort to Twilight. The man who taught him how to be a hero, even when they were harsh and brutal lessons. The one person he would always go find in a crowd of people to find some confidence, who he would talk to about everything. His fears, his hopes- 

That man, the hero of Time, terrified Wild. 

The reason why Twilight- the Hylian, not the canine, would try to become what the Lady envisioned- 

“Time-” Warriors whined from underneath all the cucco, “Help me!” 

But Time also did not move to help the man, he merely gave the heap of Cucco a glance that naturally started going over the entire room. Glaring at every gnome that came into view. The more ridiculous ones received an extra harsh look. He closed his eye and sighed deeply, “This explains it,” He opened his eye and somehow it landed directly upon Wild. 

A skip in the cub’s heartbeat.

“Tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime-”

It was loud, his heart was so so loud-

“Please, heeeeeeeeeelp-” Warriors cried out. 

And although Wild’s heart was trying to break out of chest and his lungs had started a riot, Wild breathed in and chirped. It was an oddly cute noise, even when it sounded so alike the demon birds they were surrounded by. The cucco on Warriors must have thought the same as they looked up, their evil filled black beaded eyes on Wild. The hero chirped again and the birds hopped off Warriors, happily hopping out the barn. Past an unhappy looking Time. 

Warriors sat up abruptly, throwing his arms up to cheer, “I’m fr-” He barely managed to get out before he threw himself to the side just to throw his stomach belongings up into a pile of hay. It was a foul stench and it made Twilight regret his entire existence as a wolf.

He looked away from the disaster in the making, just to see another tragedy on the horizon. Time had his arms crossed, his eye narrowed in a glare. And Wild sat against the wall, his eyes wandering from Warriors to Twilight to Time. His fingers twitched ever so slightly, Twilight only saw it with his heightened vision. 

“Folks have come knockin’ on our doors, searchin’ for they belongin’,” Time drawled his words, “Said drunks stoleth them’s in the dead of night,” He sweeped on arm around, pulling attention to the entirety of the room, that was filled with garden gnomes, “I appear to have found them.” 

Warriors groaned from his spot of shame, “Shhhhs, talk smaller-” He said nonsensically as he grabbed his head, wincing. Only damning the situation more with his obvious hangover.

Wild and Warriors had gone on a bender and stole garden gnomes. Oh shit. He looked at Wild and tried to see how he was. He did not see him suffering like Warriors was, but he also had not moved abruptly as the captain had done. Wild’s eyes switched from Time to Twilight, suddenly. As if he knew the wolf had been watching. He blinked, and in a moment of softness Twilight hadn’t seen often, he huffed. A sound that sounded so very fond that Twilight wasn’t sure if he hadn’t dreamed it.

“I’m fine,” Wild, somehow, answered his concerns.

Oh. 

Oh.

Something in him shifted, the desire of his wolf felt so much more natural. They really were just one lonely wolf. One that had never belonged when in this form. Treated like an outsider to wolf packs and as a pet with Hylians. But Wild- Wild knew what he was asking- It was not that Twilight wanted to be a mentor to give comfort and it was not that the canine in him wanted a cub to be protective over- it was that they wanted connection with someone who understood. 

And Wild, oh dear Wild, he was one so very strange in their group. He smelled like nature, felt like the very ground they walked on- silent and graceful. Loud and proud. He was the hero of the Wilds, and Twilight, he was beginning to understand what the Lady saw in their potential bond. Suddenly, with just one moment of understanding, Twilight could also see why they were fated to be more than just a soul connection. 

Wild and Twilight were carved out of the same tree. 

“Ever more,” Time’s voice broke whatever content Twilight had found, his chest was puffed out and Twilight felt his own heart tighten, his mentor was mad mad, “The temple bell, it’s gone.”  

Wild raised his hands, sign already beginning to form but Time didn’t even watch. The hero’s gaze switched from Wild to Warriors and back, “Who’s idea was it?” He demanded. 

Warriors groaned loudly again, the palms of his hands pressed to his eyelids, “I agreed,” He slurred, “I’m pretty su-” His words got cut of by the upset of his stomach once again, the pile of regrets in the hay only getting larger. 

Time looked at the captain with clear disappointment and sighed.

“M’fine-” Warriors murmured just before another wave started up. The stench quickly overpowered the smell of cucco. Passing out shortly after. Twilight stepped farther away from the stinky hero. And felt how his movement was closely watched by Time, his mentor’s gaze critical even if Twilight didn’t know why. 

“What we’re ya thinkin’?” Time‘s gaze snapped to Wild, “Runnin’ around, stealin’? And pulling along Warriors!”

Wild’s heart was even louder now that Twilight stood a bit closer. Heavy and fast. Louder than the cucco and the rustling of hay. Almost overtaking the sound of Twilight’s own heart. 

“I don’t know what ya do in your era,” Time took a step closer, he was so much larger than Wild who still sat on the ground. His glowering gaze so much more intimidating than the wide eyed blue’s of Wild, “But here,” He swung around an arm again, taking up more space, “Here, we don’t steal.”

Wild’s nose scrunched ever so slightly, it was barely visible even to Twilight, “I don’t steal in my era,” He signed, “I didn’t steal here-”

“These,” Time interrupted Wild and grabbed a random gnome that stood close to him. It was a silly one, with a polka-dot hat and glasses. And yet, it didn’t light up Time, “Don’t belong to you.”

The heartbeat got louder, more erratic, more panicked, “I left rupees-”

“So what,” The man interrupted Wild again, “You had no right. Yards are no shops.”

“I’m sorry,” Wild signed quickly and without the usual finesse he possessed, a slight tremor in his hands. It pulled Twilight’s attention. Not just his hands, but his entire body was shaking, if lightly and difficult to see. His breathing had become short and laboured. The control he had of it previously was disappearing. And yet, if Twilight wasn’t paying so much attention, he wouldn’t have noticed. Even with all the panic and fear in Wild’s system, he looked strangely normal, just a hint of irritation in his face. But his heart and lungs betrayed him to Twilight.

He had never seen the cub in such a state and if he had been a Hylian at that moment, he still wouldn’t have. But perhaps that meant that it was not that he had never seen Wild in such a state before, it was that he simply had never noticed. 

“What were you thinkin’!” Time continued on, spending no mind to the apologies, “Did you even think about the consequences,” It was no question, but rather an accusation, “You have damaged the reputation of the farm, my family, my wife! Have you ever spend one single moment of consideration that when you’re a guest here, every action of yours will reflect on us?!” Time kept going and going, and with every word Twilight could feel how that loud heartbeat that was starting to drown out everything else, started becoming his own too. Panic started settling into his veins and he just wanted his mentor to calm down, “How will you look Malon in the eye’s now?” He looked down. Ice cold blue that was not meant for Twilight still washed over him. 

“Malon,” Wild’s voice was small. That while the few cucco that still remained with them got louder and more squeamish, “I’ll,” He pulled away farther, as if he was trying to merge with the wall, disappearing from it all, “I’ll apologise to Malon,” The look of his eyes, wide and blue and fragile- Twilight found it difficult to breathe normally when he looked at them. Filled with hurt and shame. Drowned in the shadow of Time’s looming presence, “I didn’t mean to-”

 “You never mean to do anything,” Time spat out, “Would it hurt you to take responsibility, for once?”

A hitch in his breath, a skip in his heartbeat. Just a moment of silence before both went spiralling. Twilight couldn’t differentiate himself from Wild anymore. The cub’s raging heart was his and the quickness of his breathing quickly turned into not being able to breathe at all. Twilight felt overwhelmed and sick. 

And yet-

“I will make it right,” Wild signed forcibly. 

“You shouldn’t have done such things, to begin with!” Time refused to listen.

To the side, Warriors finally emerged from his misery, face green, “What’ya only scold the kid for?” He still lulled on his words, “I did so as well.”

“And we’ll talk later,” He glared, “You reek of alcohol.”

“And you-” Warriors wonkily pointed at Time, “Are n’asshole!” He slumped over. Twilight heard how his breathing evened out again. So sleeping, not dead. Great.

Time massaged his temple, “By Hylia,” He cursed, “Where is the bell?” The topic changed suddenly, his glare directed at Wild again. 

“It’s mine.”

Huh.

Both Twilight and Time had to process the words. They were signed with much conviction that it was jarring.

“Yours?” Time said with unbelief, but with anger laced beneath, “Have you lost your mind?”

For perhaps the first time in the conversation, Time actually left space open for Wild to answer. Silence to defend himself. But the hero said nothing. Instead, he looked Time dead in the eye and with Hylian vision, he would have looked stoic and headfast. But Twilight saw how he still trembled, even more than before. 

The question had hurt. And it made Wild look so small, covered in hay like a child that came back from play. Quivering eyes as he got scolded unfairly harshly.

Twilight couldn’t handle it anymore to simply look while his cub suffered. He tippy tapped over the wooden floors of the cucco den, trying to be as small and kind looking to Wild. He felt Time’s eye on his back, and he hated how it burned. Why was it that kindness to Wild was deemed wrong by his mentor? 

Wild’s eyes watered as Twilight dropped himself on the ground next to him, his head on his cub’s leg. 

“Return it all,” Time said, “The gnomes and the bell.”

“I’ll bring back the gnomes,” Wild agreed, and quickly, just before Time opened his mouth, he continued, “The bell is mine. I have gotten permission.”  

A moment of silence, then, “Then why’s the ecclesiastic runnin’ round, tryin’ to find the bell?” Time got closer, “Is stealing not bad enough?”

“Oh shut it,” Warriors had apparently awoken again, “Kids gotten the goddess’ permission,” He sat up right, heaving to support himself unless he would fall over again, “Saw it myself, the priest ain’t shit.”

And again, the ownership of the bells took away Time’s swiftness in rebuttals. He stood there, his arms against his body, his eye narrowed at Warriors. It was the only expression that stood out. Other than that he was like a statue, Twilight only knew that Time was agitated because of the familiarity between them. He could not pick out his mentor’s heart above Wild’s panicking one. But it did not escape him how alike Wild and Time were.

Because just like Wild, Time hid away.

“You,” Time’s gaze snapped to Wild. Because unlike Wild, Time did not hide away his hurt with silence. “Fix your mess,” And despite the fact that the man was already plenty close, he took another step. His figure had started blocking out most of the light coming in through the barn door. His features fading out in the shadows, it was unnerving. Uncomfortable, and that was an odd feeling for Twilight to have about Time. His mentor. He didn’t want the man to come closer, “Got it?” Another step and Twilight could not take it, he felt driven into a corner. He understood Wild’s desire to merge into the wall. 

And before he knew what he was doing, he growled at Time. It was a low and rumbling sound, one that warned and threatened. 

Twilight had growled at his mentor. It surprised even himself, Twilight had never even thought of the possibility. Time was his comfort. And yet.

Time’s eye widened, his movement halted on the spot. Shock and betrayal flashed through his blues. Not unlike those of Wild.

“Just,” Time had a waver in his voice, “See to it,” He promptly turned away then, leaving the cucco den with a fast stride. And Twilight felt something snap. The complete trust he had in the hero, the belief that he was a just man. 

Twilight saw now, their bond, it was not untouchable like he had thought before. The connection, so very precious to him, had been damaged in a way that was wholly preventable. And that hurt. It had all been so unneeded. 

“The fuck’s up in his arse?” Warriors let himself fall to the opposite side of the puke, “It’s too damn early for this,” The captain nestled into the hay and almost instantly light snoring replaced his curses. 

It left the cucco den to be in silence. Just the breathing of the heroes and the cucco’s filled the space. It was that peace that made Twilight’s own panicking heart all the more obvious. He didn’t know how much of the quick beating was because of his own emotions or those of Wild. Was it that he took the cub’s hurt onto him, or that he had seen a part of Time he had never seen before. Sternness, not with the goal to better the skills of his trainees. But instead, motivated by nothing except anger. 

Who was the man acting like such to Wild? 

They had the same soul, yet Time hurt his own as if Wild was the enemy. 

It was certainly not Twilight’s mentor. Not the hero he admired, so. 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Wild’s voice was scratchy and tiny. Twilight looked up at him and saw an expression that fit the smallness of those words. A fragile thing. 

A hurt kid. 

With hesitation, Wild touched Twilight’s head, “He will be cross with you,” He scratched a spot between his wolf ears, one that Twilight didn’t know was such a pleasure to be scratched at. It almost made him forget what had happened. What Wild was saying, “He was so kind to you, before,” The cub whispered. 

He should be kind to Wild, as well. Twilight tried to tell the cub, he pressed his head into Wild’s hand. He tried to show how he cared, that he would shower him with all the nice words if he was a Hylian. But that he knew that it was Wolfie that was needed now. That he understood that it was Wolfie that whom Wild had a bond with, not Twilight. 

It was not that the Lady made a mistake, it was simply that Twilight had misunderstood. It was not he who understood Wild. It was not his Hylian form who had finally noticed the hurt. But rather a version of him in that was more attuned to nature. The canine in him that he largely ignored before, just a tool. Now it had become an anchor to a bond he had thought to be futile just earlier. 

It was also the reason he now felt disconnected with Time.

How tragic he found it, that it seemed to be a choice between the two. When Twilight felt understood by them both, if in different ways. And how sad it was that they were both alike and yet, they could not see each other because they circled around one another. Looking for weaknesses, trying not to get hurt. One more than the other. 

It was a sad ordeal when they were proof of souls and destinies and yet, they remained blind. 

Chapter Text

No one fucking told him anything in this dysfunctional ass family. Fucking nobody!

He just wanted to have a nice fucking breakfast after the horrible night he had, one filled with nightmares and waking up in cold sweats. Wind had searched for Wild after one of the dreams, but hadn’t found the hero. And that was apparently because Warriors had wildnapped him! To go drinking! 

Without Wind?!  

He was a goddamn pirate, for Hylia’s sake! 

So instead of nursing a nice hangover, he just sat at the table with only like half the group. The rest chose to fuck off, or some shit.

“Mornin’,” Malon appeared from the open front door, holding a basket balanced on her hip, straw in her hair, “Slept any good?” 

Legend mumbled something negative, his exact words taken away by the fact he was laid face down on the table. Next to him, Hyrule smiled softly at the woman, nursing his hot milk. Four didn’t even glance up from their spot in the corner they had taken up to examine some random trinket he had stolen from Wild when the hero hadn’t been lookin’. And Sky had fallen asleep again on the couch the moment he had come down the stairs.

Wind, however, was taking the chance to complain and whine. It was in his nature! “Maloooooooon, did’ye knew Wild and Warriors went to drink?!” He threw himself on the table, dramatics turned up to the max.

The patience the woman possessed had to be Hylia gifted, because she grinned and ruffled his hair, “A shame they didn't bring ye mighty sailor.”

A saint of a woman! Wind threw his arms in the air, “See! The missus gets it!” He cheered, “I’m a pirate! Mead’s in me blood!”

Four didn’t look up when they said, “You’re lucky already you haven't got a bedtime.”

“Hey-”

But Wind got interrupted by screaming. It was Warriors and it was very distant. He heard the telltale sign of Wolfie appearing, a sickening, crunching sound of bones popping and cracking. And almost immediately after, Time was yelling for the canine to slow down. 

It all happened so suddenly, Wind didn’t even register the sounds entirely before his brothers jumped up, running to the door. He wasn’t even sure where the sound came from and yet Legend had already halted in the doorway, the others running, “Keep Malon and Sky safe!” He yelled at the sailor before running after the others. 

“Hey, wait!” He attempted.

But he was left behind with a sleeping Sky and an amused-looking woman. Wind hadn’t even had the time to react.

“Oh dear,” Malon had a hand on her cheek, “They are surely overreacting, this is a safe haven, for goodness sake.”

Wind looked up at the lady, his mind a haze, “What?” 

“Well,” She leaned down with a grin, “This’s protected lands. Now,” Malon ruffled his hair again, “Want some apple cake?”

She, too, did not wait for any response, already making her way into the kitchen. Now he was the only one in the room, sleeping Sky did not count, and Wind was about to scream. He wanted to go check on Warriors! He wanted to go along with the others! And the job of protecting Malon was clearly not a real task, according to her, at least.

Left behind the night before.

Left behind when possible danger had appeared.

Fucking assholes, all of them!

Maybe not Wild. 

Wind sighed and let himself slither down to the ground, right in front of the fireplace. The warmth was nice and comforting. He embraced his legs and rested his chin on his knees, he stared how the flickers of the flame played with the breeze that wafted in from the chimney. It was so fickle.

The nagging feeling he had been carrying for quite a while now was overwhelming in the silence. 

He missed his grandmother and sister. 

He missed how the group of heroes was before they met Wild, the sweet trust they all had. But Wind also hated that they perfectly could have the same even with Wild. But they didn’t, for some stupid reason. And he couldn’t understand why. 

He felt alone. 

For the first time in so long Wind was alone with just his thoughts, there wasn’t even snoring in the background. And he felt it. When had he gotten so sad? When did he start feeling a disconnect with all of them? After Wild had joined their group? No, they had been just fine the first few days. Just some tension… but that was normal. It had all been so fucking normal! So what was it that made them collapse into the disappointing heap of shit they were?!

“Here.”

A piece of apple cake on a pretty little plate appeared in his vision, Malon’s laboured hand holding it gingerly. His grandma would hold him sweets in the same way when he was in a mood. Her care and love always so gentle. 

A careful hand on his shoulder, “My little breeze, what’s goin’ on?” 

“They-” Wind tried to keep strong but his voice broke and despite the warmth of not only the flame but Malon, he felt so cold, “Everything,” He managed before burying his face in his knees. Tears threatened to leave his eyes.

Hylia damn, would he ever be rid of the tears? When would the well of sadness finally dry? He was so sick of feeling blue and down. So sick of suffering of stupid reasons that could easily be fixed. And he was so sick of mourning a journey he didn’t know much about.

“It’s been tough for you,” Malon put her arm around him, settling beside the fireplace with him, “Hasn’t it?”

And despite his efforts, the rain clouds broke and a sob wrecked through, “I miss me grandmama.”

Her hug tightened, “I can imagine,” She whispered, “Yer far from home.”

A ripple of hurt made breathing difficult. He was so far away from Outset Island, yes. His family waiting forever on him for his adventure to once again end. Their gazes on the ocean so they would not miss him coming by. But his second home was right around him. Or to be frank, his home was running around doing fuck all. Destroying themselves, becoming people Wind barely knew. 

“Them idiots-” Wind sneered through a sob. The reason why his tears never stopped, so clear to him in the churning seas of frustrations,  but always lost when needing to find their way into words. Insults were easier. “Idiots!”

Malon hummed, “No one’s too sure ‘bout them’ footing.”

With how quickly she figured out certain things, Wind really wasn’t sure how the fuck she married Time. The idiot was the source of most of their problems! And he wasn’t sure if the hero of dumbfoolery even fucking noticed. 

“I dunno why,” Wind murmured, “T’never was so difficult with the others.”

She didn’t answer immediately, instead, Malon let the crackles of fire fill the silence. It was calming and recognisable. Something that filled cold evenings in the woods. Represented the moments that some peace was allowed to exist. Only when exhaustion ruled their bodies. 

“He’s much like him,” Malon said quietly, just not yet a whisper, “I haven’t knew Wild long, but he’s like a youngling. Like me darling Link was when I met ‘im.”

Wild and Time? 

Wind unburied his face from the crooks of his arms, eyes red and itchy, “They are?”

Malon smiled down at him, mirth in her eyes, “Oh yes, mischievous lads, the both of them!”

“Then why?”

The question took away the joy, a frown took its place, “At times, you may not like a part of yerself,” She said slowly, “And when yer lookin’ that part in tha eyes, ya can be cruel.”

“Wild doesn’t deserve that.”

“No,” Malon rested her head upon his, “He does not.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When had the last time been since someone looked down at him and declared him to be a reckless idiot who never did anything right? 

He couldn’t exactly remember but that wasn't anything new. Link knew little of what actually happened in his past, to the person he was before. But the things he had felt in that time, those were etched into the very veins of his body. His heart itself was beating along with the forgotten pain of the past. The faces of those who hurt him were long gone from his mind, though the scars of them forever on his body. Even if they had gotten covered by new wounds already. But he wouldn’t be surprised if they looked somewhat similar to Time and Warriors. 

Large and imposing. The looks in their eyes hardened and critical. 

Though it was hard to think of Warriors as a captain when he was puking out his guts in the corner of a cuckoo den. And it was now impossible to think of him as stern when both he and Link had gone around town, raiding yards and temples. Warriors wasn’t like the faceless traumas that followed Link even after death.

Time, however, he was a whole different case.

After the man had left the barn, silence had fallen upon it. Warriors had fallen asleep after some choice words and Wolfie… stayed as Wolfie. Link didn’t know if he was thankful for that or not. Talking to Twilight didn’t sound appealing. 

Talking to anyone didn’t sound appealing. 

Link had just woken up and he was already so tired. But the precious presence of his wolf friend was a salve to his aching wounds. And an equally painful reminder of how weak he was. It couldn’t be a coincidence that Hylia gave him his best friend when he had woken up like a duckling fresh off the egg, naive and weak. With only a sense of survival pushing him. And when she took him away, it was when he could survive on his own, when he had to.

But here he was again, years later, being comforted by the smell of fur filled with dust and grass. A sense of recognition he always had felt with the wolf, that Link could now place. 

Link had grown weak and Hylia had gifted him his best friend again. Wolfie… who turned out to be Twilight. Another hero, another version of his soul. Someone who didn’t fail even once. While Link had failed twice. 

He closed his eyes when he felt the tears well up. Wolfie was so very warm. So very familiar. And it hurt in a way that reminded Link of the times he was aching for home while he didn’t even know what that was. He missed Zelda and he missed his lands. The familiar feeling he now knew was called magic. He wanted to run through the fields of Hateno, play in the sands of Gerudo, throw snowballs in the mountains of Hebra, soothe his aching muscles in the hot springs of Eldin and swim up the waterfalls in Lanayru. All while Wolfie was close by. It was one of the many desires he had since the animal had disappeared. 

And Hylia had given him just a part of his wish, with the added cruel joke that was Time. She never could give him all he wanted. 

Wolfie whined. He was worried and distressed. The fiasco with Time had taken a toll on the poor lad. Link wished Twilight hadn’t seen his hero like that. He didn’t know who he admired once, but the disappointment he felt for that person still sat deep in his chest. And to think his best friend went through that letdown too was sad. If not a bit of a relief, and he found it a bit selfish of himself, but he was glad not to be alone anymore under the steel glare of Time.

A wet nose got pressed against his hand, and finally, Link opened his eyes to look at his best friend. Precious Wolfie, Twilight, his eyes were searching for something in Link’s. Some hurt he could lick away, perhaps. But Link smiled ruefully, none of the hurts he had were physical. 

“M’fine.”

Link had to keep himself from chuckling when the wolf gave him an oh-so-familiar look of incredulousness. Oh, thank Hylia for she gave him this comfort. She tried.

“Warriors’ less fine than me,” He tried to satisfy the wolfman, but he wasn’t impressed. So Link rolled his eyes and nudged the wolf, communicating to Twilight they should go help poor Warriors. 

They got up, Twilight watching closely as if Link was going to stumble and fall. And if he was Warriors, maybe he would’ve, but Link could withstand the alcohol a lot better. So he got up fine on his own. The shaking in his legs wasn’t from the hangover. He almost wished it was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sky awoke to screaming. 

His head was groggy and he had the vague sense he had dreamed something he should have remembered, but it was gone. And that was quite concerning. But he couldn’t exactly think about it for long, because the screaming was a bit more alarming. Just a tidbit more. Legend was known to scream often anyway.

“Leg, Sky’s sleepin’,” Hyrule’s soft voice tried to cut through the intense noise.

“Rulie, you heard the same damn shit I did, how do you expect me to be quiet?!”

A sigh, “M’angry as well,” His voice trembled, “Furious, even. But Sky’s sleepin’ and we must be angry silently.”

A hush followed and Sky could imagine them looking at each other all intensely and angrily. The two of them had an odd bond like that. It made Sky curious what got the both of them so upset, it wasn’t easy to get Hyrule like that, after all. Legend in comparison was incredibly easy to rile up. An overripe apple could do the trick on a bad day. But the both of them would never tell him, Legend was apprehensive of him because of his connection with the Goddess. And Hyrule really ever told Legend things. So he remained silent as if still asleep.

“Be angry all ye want, we can do nothing,” Four said, and from the faintness of their voice, Sky figured they were sitting pretty far away from the other two.

“Nothing?!” Legend spat, “What ya want us to do? Watch as that Hylia damned man keeps antagonising one of our own?”

Four sighed, “Tyme’s also one of us.”

“Guys-” Hyrule’s voice had a tint of desperation in it.

“After he said all that shit, no he fucking ain’t!” Legend walked farther away from the couch where Sky still pretended to be asleep, “He keeps doin’ shite like this and I won’t see it anymore!”

“At most, we can mediate till they figure it out themselves.”

Hyrule was now the one that responded to Four, his tone carefully blank, “Tyme’s the one who’s having to figure it out. Wild done nothin’.”

“Wild hasn’t helped-”

“No,” Legend cut them off, “You can’t say nothin’ ‘bout Wild. He hasn’t been the most social but other than that he has done nothin’ wrong! And Time is bein’ an areshole and endangering our group!” His footsteps were harsh and quick and before long Sky heard the front door shut forcibly. Hyrule’s light feet already rushed after the hero, calling out his name.

Four sighed, “Sky, stop pretendin’.”

He should’ve known Four would know, “What’s going on?” Sky asked as he sat up.

The colours in their eyes switched and jumped, an obvious tell that the hero was conflicted, “Warriors screamed as if he was bein’ killed,” They began and Sky cursed how deep he slept, “When we got there it turned out to be fine, but Twilight and Time had gotten there before us. And we overheard some…” They halted the explanation, the moment of conflict obviously arrived, “We heard Time bein’ unnecessarily harsh.”

Harsh?

Time could be stern, but harsh? “To Wild?” Sky connected, “Why?”

“Wild and Warriors have gone on a drunken spree and taken all the gnomes of the village. Time went on a whole spiel against Wild for it. Said some harsh things,” Four looked away, a deep frown on their face, “It was pretty bad.”

Sky’s first thought was that it couldn’t be that bad. That Time wasn’t one to be cruel like that. He was serious but not cold. A bit distant but kind. A good leader.

The kitchen door opened, Malon looked at them wide-eyed, “What did he say?” She asked, her voice slight but badly hidden anger in there. 

Four cringed under her watch, wringing their hands, “We’re not sure it be best if we told you.”

“I wanna know too,” Wind appeared from behind Malon, cake crumbs covering his face, “Four, please.”

They wilted even more under the big doe eyes of Wind, all of them weak for the kid, “We didn’t hear everything,” They stumbled over their words, “But he said to Wild that he never takes responsibility,” They paused when Wind gasped loudly, his eyes wide in horror and Sky felt how his heart sank to his stomach, “That he never thinks about consequences-”

A good leader. That didn’t sound that right anymore.

“Motherfucker-” Wind snarled, “He don’t know nothin’ ‘bout Wild, fucking dumbass of a loser! Sorry, Malon, but yer husband needs to keep his dumb mouth shut! Him can say ‘bout me that I’m not thinkin’ ‘bout consequences but Wild?!”

Malon didn’t take offence, she looked stricken, “What else,” She demanded, almost.

“That he damaged the farm’s and yours reputation,” Four murmured, “That’s what hurt Wild the most,” They added even more silently. As if they had hoped Malon wouldn’t hear. 

But she had and Sky watched in horror as tears and anger filled her eyes, “Where?”

“The cucco barn.”

She nodded forcibly, “Right… right,” Malon looked away from them all. She looked angrier than he’d ever seen her. Her face pulled together as if she was going to cry or maybe scream, perhaps both, “Anythin’ else?”

Four looked taken aback by the sudden continuation of the conversation, “Uh,” They stumbled, “He asked if Wild lost his mind?”

It was the last straw for Malon, without sparing a word to them, she spun around on her heel. The door fell heavy behind her.

The room was silent in her departure.

Time, he had been a good leader. From the very beginning, he had always tried to be understanding, even when they were being ridiculous. But Sky felt how the farm felt small and tense, the unusual calming energy deformed. And his thoughts strayed to the last few weeks. 

“What did ya do?” Wind asked Four, eyes filled with tears, “When ye heard Time bein’ a bitch, did ya stop’im?”

Did any of them stop Time? 

Sky looked at Four and saw the guilt that overcame their face and felt like he should feel guilty as well.

“No.”

“And Legend? Hyrule? Anyone?” Wind was almost begging at that point.

Had any of them done anything that was actually substantial? More than simple words and careful distraction? 

Sky didn’t remember if he had more than three conversations with Wild alone. And although they all impacted him so, he didn’t think it meant the same to Wild. Sky was simply one of the heroes that watched their newest member from afar, with wonder and perhaps even envy. But what were those feelings to Wild if most of them hadn’t tried connecting to him?

Only a few days ago had there been some visible change. 

Only a few days ago when they had been travelling together for more than a month already.

“Four!” Wind tried again, “Did’ya just listen?”

“W-warriors and Wolfie, they- they went against Time,” They looked ashamed, “We did nothin’.”

“Not even Legend?” Sky asked, “That seems unlikely.”

“Me and Hyrule stopped him from storming in and committing homicide,” Four explained, “And at some point, we all just got stuck paralysed from… shock, perhaps.”

Wind scoffed, “Fucking cowards,” He muttered before turning around and disappearing into the kitchen again.

And maybe, Sky thought, maybe Wind was right about that.

They were cowards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His heartbeat was irregular and loud, beating a headache into existence. But that mattered little to Legend, that level of anger was familiar to him. Almost comforting in a way, certainly easy. It was a result of a life spent adventuring for some stuck-up goddess that refused to do her own dam part. Which resulted in Legend having some fucked up life that left him hurting. And he could deal with that, just like the anger, he felt comfortable with the hurt. Had learned to be strong.

But Legend knew he had a weakness. It wasn’t one he liked to admit to, but anyone that knew him well enough knew of it. And Legend would kick them in the fucking shin if they dared to say it out loud. More than that, he would hurt anyone who reached into that weakness. 

Naturally, that meant he had to go find Time.

Legend was marching through the farm as if on a warpath, his footsteps loud and heavy and he didn’t even care. Fuck the lessons he had learned about being quiet and swift. The anger swept those concerns away. Time had been pushing his patience for quite a while. Legend had been nice and proper, or as much as he could, at least. But the man had crossed the line. 

“Leg!” Hyrule was coming after him, his voice hissing in a bell-like quality that betrayed his nature, “Ya can’t hunt down Tyme!” It was a warning or perhaps worry. Legend didn’t quite know.

And Legend didn’t care, “Ohhhh, I can! And will!” He kept on strutting down the pathway, his eyes searching for that damn giant of an eyesore, “He can’t say shit like that to one of us!”

The fae faltered, “Legend, Four’s right,” He frowned, “Tyme’s still ours. An ass but ours.”

Heat bellowed at the base of his throat, he turned around with eyes ablaze, “Hylia has given’ all of us hell! Hell! And take one good fuckin’ look at Wild and ya can see clearly he had it rough,” Legend couldn’t help but raise his voice, “So Time had and has no right to say anythin’ he did!”

Hyrule looked sadly at Legend and for a moment he felt his heart twitch, but he pushed it aside. He could not falter for the kind eyes of the fae, not at that moment. They had all been giving Time the time to grow and calm down. But the man had repaid them by making matters worse. Their dysfunctional group of fuck ups had never been as stable as some of his idiots tried to say, but the way they had been the last few weeks was simply getting unbearable. And Time was at the core of it, while the man pretended Wild was the problem.

“We can’t let it break us,” Hyrule muttered, “Leg, this can’t be the end. I won’t let it be.”

“And it won’t be,” Legend hissed, “But I sure won’t let Time get away with this.”

He would like to say that the searching eyes of his successor didn’t impact him, but that would be a lie. Hyrule had found something akin to a pack in them all. Had imprinted on them in a different way than he and the others could do. Legend could only imagine how much Hyrule was hurting simply by the thought of breaking what they had. And yet, Legend could not continue like they were.

“Rulie, think of Wild.”

Tears sprung to the hero’s eyes, his breath hitched, “That’s unfair,” He said, “They both are mine.”

“Time’s hurting him, ‘Rulie,” Legend’s voice cracked. It was unfair and he hated it. He wouldn’t say that he had been particularly close to Time before, but they had that stupid connection of their soul. And to see the man he had, at least, respected before turning into a version of himself that was harsh and unforgiving was difficult. Stupid.

Hyrule’s bottom lip trembled and anger seeped in his eyes, “I refuse to give up, we’ll fight. We’ll grow and make it right. I’ll fix it!”

“You can’t,” He felt like crying himself, out of frustration, of anger. Perhaps even desperation, “Hyrule, don’t ya think that if it was fixable, ya’d already done somethin’?”

Hurt flashed in Hyrule’s eyes, “Ya-” 

A howl interrupted their conversation- Twilight- and Legend was already running. Hyrule was right behind him. His heart was racing, what was going on now? The situation with Warriors had been nothing, just his dramatics and demon birds. But Wolfie didn’t howl for nothing. No, it was his signal for danger, for monsters. Far away and close. And by the loudness of that howl, they were close. 

He barely noticed that somewhere far on his left, Sky and Four were storming out of the main building. Or that Wind joined them quickly. What he did notice was the sick waves of magic that rippled in the air, a clear sign of monsters. A lot of them.

But they were on the Lon Lon Ranch. He had never heard of a monster attack even close to the farm. 

Hyrule speeded a bit, “Somethin’s wrong with the magic!” He heaved as they ran. But of course, there was something wrong with it! The monsters- then he noticed what Hyrule really meant. 

Lon Lon Ranch had always been at peace, tranquil even. A magic that was soothing to the mind. But that energy- that magic- was shaking in its fundamentals, “The magic! It was protective!” Legend deducted. 

Another sick ripple of evil stench overcame them and Legend wanted to hurl over and puke. Malice, as Wild had called it, had a way of intruding into the very pores of his magic. Clogging them with a sticky and foul energy that tried to corrupt his very core. It was an invasive and sickening feeling. 

But despite his suffering, Legend continued on running- until-

He stopped and gaped at the scene before him. They were at one of the cow pastures, luckily empty of the animal. Unluckily, it was filled with monsters on monsters. Many he recognised, plenty he didn’t. He couldn’t count them, he wouldn’t be surprised if they hit the hundred mark. They were positioned in groups, meaning there were at least some black-blooded monsters in their rank to organise them all.

And it the epicentre of it all, the eye of the hurricane, stood Wild and Wolfie. 

They looked to be unharmed, though already covered with slowly disappearing monster blood. Red and black. 

“Oh, what the fack-” Wind wheezed as he skidded to a stop beside him.

Legend’s heart was going to give out, “We fight our way till the middle, join those two and fight from the inside out,” He quickly gave orders to his fellow heroes. Warriors and Time were nowhere to be seen, after all. And Legend had the most adventures under his belt.

To his relief, the heroes nodded and with a battle cry they entered the fray. 

Legend wasn’t sure what exactly was happening or what he was doing. He slashed and he stabbed. Threw some fireballs to the left and let Hyrule cover his right. Wind and Four at his back and Sky in front. No monster came too close. They couldn’t afford it, the horde was never-ending and they were two men short. Three if you didn’t count Wolfie. So, seven against possibly a hundred monsters? Sure! Whatever! It was not as if they were simple Hylians who had limited stamina and strength! 

Legend felt a vein pop up on his forehead and slammed down his sword, “FUCK YOU HYLIA!” He slashes around wildly, “Now I fucking known why we’re with nine!” He ranted as he impaled the head of some ugly red bokoblin from Wild’s era, “Why not twelve, hylia?!” A well-aimed kick ruptured a chuchu, “Fucking monsters, damn goddess,” Legend complained and muttered as he got doused in so much blood that he might as well throw his tunic away after the fight. The disappearing goo that was monster blood could not go away fast enough for it not to stain. 

“We’re almost there!” Sky yelled from up front, his professional teachings of the sword apparent as he systematically and efficiently got rid of the oncoming beasts. 

“THANK FUCK,” Wind screamed just as the earth shook, and shook again- a large shadow loomed over them, “A FUCKING HINOX?!” 

“Shit shit shit shit shit shit-” Legend repeated as he looked around. There was a pack of wolfos approaching them from the right and the momblins and bokoblins were making way for the hinox. Like the ugly little boogers the lot of them were.

Hyrule finished a guay that had been disrupting them for a while. With a little jump, he stood close to Legend, “Portal on protected lands and a dungeon beast, we’s in big troubles.”

“At least it’s slow,” He snarled, “I’d love if Hylia would give us a damn getaway now.”

The fae frowned, “Malon would be left.”

Malon-

Legend got thrown back by a wolfos that had rushed at him when he faltered. His shoulder throbbed and hurt, warmth feeding the pain, “Fuck-” Blood stained his fingers. Two of his idiot brothers were nowhere to be seen and Malon was walking around somewhere. Probably making her towards the battle, ready to jump into the fight when she shouldn’t.

Hyrule must have gotten rid of the Wolfos, because his face suddenly filled Legend’s entire field of view, “Com’here,” He widened the ripped tunic, frown on his face, “Tis shallow.”

“Spare yar magic,” Legend pushed himself upright, “We got shit to do.”

“LEG!” The scream of Wind was farther away than it was supposed to be, “Wild and Twi are headed here!” He had barely finished his sentence when the large body of Wolfie leapt over a group of bokoblins, Wild on his back. Bow in hand and arrows flying around.

With a loud thud and a cloud of dust, the animal landed, barely waiting for Wild to get off before already lunging with bared teeth at the throats of monsters and beasts alike. Quickly thinning the density of danger around them. 

“Wild!” Sky ran over to the hero, his eyes wide, “Are you okay?” He grabbed the man’s shoulders, his gaze crazed as he searched for injuries.

Wild Spice slanted his head, “M’fine,” He said hoarsely, “Hinox first. Cover me.”

“Ya can’t do a bloody mini boss alone,” Legend was already shaking his head, throwing fireballs around to keep the monsters at a distance, “Reckless idiot!”

“Trust me.”

The onslaught of fire haltered for just a moment. 

Legend wanted to scream at Wild, for his dumb foolery and apparent willingness to die. And his tendency to ignore the help of his brothers. A hinox was not something to do alone when you had the possibility of help. It was large and heavy, and the one slowly making its way over to them had protection on his ankles. Weapons as a necklace. 

He shouldn’t let one of his brothers fight a hinox alone.

Wild could die.

“Fuck,” Legend cursed and tried to throw his dirtiest glare at Wild, “If it’s blackblooded, retreat and we’ll fight together.”

Wild smiled. And Legend cursed again.

What fools they were.

“But-” Sky was beginning to object, and for good reason. But Legend shook his head and the hero accepted that much.

“You,” Legend pointed at Wild, “Go fight ugly, we cover and don’t you fucking dare die.”

With a quick nod, blue light replacing Wild’s weapons and a last curse to Hylia they began their fight. Warriors would have a stroke if he saw the lack of organisation. There was no reason or plan, they were simply fighting and hoping for the best. Wild leading them, sniping monsters from closer than should be possible. Legend, Four and Wind on the left flank, Sky and Hyrule on the right. Wolfie was somewhere in the fray before them all. 

There was no reason in it all, they simply attacked and defended. Their teamwork a dance they had been practising for so long already, it had become so natural they could do it in their sleep. Legend attacked up close, Four protecting his back and Wind looking out for the both of them from afar with his boomerang. Switching seamlessly when his flames were needed. It continued like that until the air became fright with energy. 

Thunder deafened all with ears. Lightning blinded all with eyes. 

The hinox was down, grappling its single eye with pained shrieks. A bomb landed on its lap and its ankle protectors and necklace were on fire, the weapons fell on the ground. In just a moment the hinox that was threatening all their lives turned into a pathetic thing. 

The fire started spreading, it latched onto the high grass of the fields. Found life in the fresh air and rotten flesh of the beasts. The battle they had been traversing turned into a game of avoidance as they dodged flaming fists of dying monsters. 

It made it easy to keep track of the hinox and Wild. It quite helped that Wild had into a ridiculously bulky armour set at some moment. It looked like he had a fish bowl on his head. 

The giant groaned as it stood upright, ignoring the flames, towering over the small stature of Wild. Legend’s heart started racing just by looking at the height difference. No matter what mighty battles you survived and how an experienced fighter you were, height and weight could always be the end of you. And yet Wild calmly raised his bow, three arrows ready, the Gerudo spectre next to him. 

“Close yer eyes,” He warned the others just in time for light to flash over the battlefield yet again.

The hinox sat down again but instead of throwing a bomb, Wild ran to the beast. His bulky armour shifted in blues to scantily clad rags, a skull on his head. The two-handed weapon he was holding was larger than himself but still, it looked light in his hold. Wild’s pace didn’t slow when he got to the hinox, instead, he twisted his shoulders and with the momentum of both his running and the weight of the sword he spun around. Quickly and without a moment of rest, Wild kept hacking into the same flesh wound he created on the rotted flesh. Digging into it deeper and deeper, the cavity it created was big enough to crawl into. And the hinox could do little more than scream in agony as its insides got carved out. 

Until Wild stopped, his body obviously shaking as he heaved in exhaustion. The monster, barely alive, saw its chance and took it. It slammed down its hand where Wild sat as it tried to get up, but the hero was already gone. The hinox looked around frantically with its eye, stumbling on its legs it searched in vain. 

It never thought of looking up.

Wild dropped down on the shoulders of the giant, clutching himself on the head of it. The weapon in his hand was bright and jaggedy, divine power cascading from it. It burned the skin of the hinox just by being close to it. With similar shrieks of hurt the beast went to grab onto Wild but ultimately didn’t get the chance before Wild brought down the holy sword. Piercing the skull at such an angle, the end of the sword poked through the singular eye. Yanking it out just as the hinox’s body started to disintegrate. 

The battle between Wild and the hinox had taken barely two minutes.

The fire the hero had started had wiped out the weakest of the horde, weakened the remaining. It was rather easy from then on out. Wild had not taken any moment of calm before he was already storming stunned monsters nearby. He kept close to Legend and the others when many started piling up around them, with a one-handed sword in hand. But it was never long before he took distance again, spinning around with deadly heavy-duty broadswords. Summoning his spectres to do damage to everything around him. 

Legend had thought the battle would be their end. That they would need twelve heroes to defeat such a horde. But as the group started dwindling he cackled while crushing a skull under his feet. They had survived!

Lon Lon Ranch would smell like burned grass and intestines for a while, but it would remain to stand tall and proud! Time and Malon could keep their love dove farm-

“LINK!” A shrill non-Link voice shrieked and Legend felt his heart stop once again. Throwing his body around to search for Malon he saw him. 

There were so few monsters. They were almost all gone. Just some stranglers that were tough enough to survive till now remained. They should have been fine!

But Time was on his knees, blood caking his blond hair. Sword out of reach. And towering above him a silver bokoblin, axe raised high, ready to strike- Legend screamed, his desperation and fear joined by the others. He had already begun to run, but he knew he could never reach Time on time-

No!

The axe came down and tears already started streaming down Legend’s face. He had been angry at the man, wanted him gone- but not like that! Not by death!

Time tried to scramble back but something was wrong with his leg. He couldn’t get away- he was going to die. Malon was right there, she would see.

All the air of the world seemed to be gone as the axe embedded itself in the hero of the Wilds. 

The bokoblin staggered back, confused at the sudden change of target. But it did not last long, it took the handle of the axe, ready to pull it out from its victim. Sitting so like the previous hero, on his knees, fear in his eyes. But Wild did not cower backwards like Time had been. He looked straight into the bokoblins eyes as he pulled a blue shining dagger from his boot. And with a swift movement, he severed the hand of the beast. 

The bokoblin staggered backwards right into the snarling teeth of Wolfie. 

As shrieks of unbelievable pain echoed over the field, the heroes ran. Two of their own were down and possibly dying. 

Legend didn’t think he could handle it. 

Not their injuries, not their possible deaths and certainly not the space they both would leave behind. The questions and possibilities that would always surround them would haunt them all.

He skidded over the ground, no care for his bare knees, just in time to catch Wild. The axe was still in his chest, stuck in his ribs and perhaps a lung. Maybe more. 

“HYRULE!” Legend cried for the healer. Where had the fae been? Was he close? Legend didn’t dare to look away from Wild to check.

Blue eyes peered up at him, somehow the hero was still awake and even more miraculously, he seemed aware, “S’Time safe?” He gurgled. Blood in his lungs, Legend knew then.

“Care ‘bout yer fucking self,” Legend spat but no one would believe it was in anger, “What the fuck did you do?! I said you weren’t allowed to fucking die!”

“M’not dead.”

Legend already had all insults known to Hylians ready on his tongue as Sky settled down next to them, Hyrule with him, “Time’s alright,” He brushed a loose strand of Wild’s hair behind his ear. A chunk missing from it, “You saved him.”

Despite Hyrule taking out the axe with the help of Wind and Four, and the tears that streamed down his face while blood that gushed out of the gaping wound drenched his clothes, Wild smiled. A soft thing. 

“Good.”

Sky’s breath hitched, “Do you want to pray with me?” He caressed his hair, “I can’t promise Hylia answers me.”

Wild chuckled, blood staining his lips, “Yer n’t missin’ much,” He coughed to Hyrule’s dismay. The excessive movement of his lungs made the blood gush even more, “She’s only sass.”

The cracking of bones made way for sobs as yet another brother sat beside Legend and Wild, “Cub,” Twilight’s voice cracked, “No-”

“Why?” Legend looked away from Wild to see Time, supporting Warriors as he limped, “Why save me?” He asked and Legend would have hit the man if it was not for the dying man in his arms. 

Wild frowned as if simply puzzled by the question. As if he was not actively bleeding out.

“Leg,” Hyrule whispered, stress in his voice, “His lung has sunken, me magic’s not ‘nough.”

Legend watched as Hyrule suddenly seemed so far away, and heard how everyone was suddenly silent and muffled. He felt like he was away, like he was simply observing the situation. 

“Leg? Legend?” Hyrule’s face crumbled, tears streaming down, “I can’t,” He sobbed, “M’not enough.”

It broke him to see his fae like that. 

“Wild, stay here!” Twilight begged and slowly, barely in control of his tired body, Legend looked at his Wild spice. 

The scars covering his face had never looked so gruesome before. They burned away at his youth, sucked away his life. Took the colour out of his face, the light from his eyes. But Wild had survived them before, he had successfully fought them to keep his heart beating and his lungs breathing. 

Legend wasn’t sure that he would succeed in that again.

The sky-blue eyes fluttered. Twilight begged for them to stay open while crying filled the space in between. Wind had at one point started to hug Wild’s head, repeating the question for Wild to stay. To not leave Wind behind.

Wild hummed, a wet noise as blood trickled down his chin, “M’hero?” He asked no one in particular.

“Of course, you are,” Sky’s voice was warm but sad, “The best of us.”

“What a stupid question,” Wind was bawling, “You’re me hero!”

Twilight brought a hand of Wild’s to his face, close to the mark on his head, “A born hero.”

Wild huffed, “That’s nice.”

“His heart is slowing!” Hyrule yelled in alarm just as the sound of thundering hooves overwhelmed them. A horde of horses came at them at full speed, Malon leading them on Epona.

“LINK!” She jumped off before Epona had time to stop, “I got the doctors!”

Legend couldn’t help but be reminded of the battle when everything suddenly happened so fast.

Someone took Wild from his arms. So many people Legend didn’t know surrounded his spice, he wanted to tell them that Wild didn’t like being touched too much. Wanted to ask them what they were doing. But Legend’s body had gone numb. His mind was distant and foggy. At some point, Hyrule had been speaking to him for a while, long enough for Legend to notice, but he hadn’t heard anything. 

He simply remained on the spot where they had taken Wild from him. His boots were stained with blood. And he was sure that his pants would have been for the flames if he was wearing them. Instead, it was his skin that touched the cooling down blood of Wild. 

Legend failed Wild.

They all failed Wild.

And yet it was Wild who questioned if he was a hero. While he was the only real hero in the lot of them. 

Chapter Text

The first thing he noticed was the salt in the air, the way it laid down thick on his tongue, how it stung his nose. Recognisable in such a way he knew where he was without having to open his eyes to gaze. But the grass beneath him was starting to get dewy and he knew what that meant, what he would miss if he simply enjoyed the air. 

He had to shield his eyes from the sudden intake of light just for a second, but let his hand fall quickly away. A deep sigh unearthed itself from the deepest depths of his body. Oh, how he missed that view so. The sun was almost kissing the ocean and as if giving a gift before they would meet, it coloured the sky orange and pink. The world itself felt warm and soft underneath the gentle touch of the drowsy sun. And he basked in the presence of the great Sun, the mellowness she showed. 

Beneath him, at the feet of the cliff he was sitting on he saw the town with its peculiar architecture he helped rebuild. Its people lived their lives peacefully now that danger had been defeated once again and tourists came from far and wide to enjoy the seaside life of Lurelin. The bustle of life and all the sounds it produced felt like a warm embrace for his tender heart. They were alive.

He should take Zelda on a vacation, enjoy the same wants and needs of regular people. Find out what it meant to be a tourist and not a savior. Live quietly instead of constant turmoil. Perhaps it would calm her mind, give her back the part she lost of herself during the millions of years that she roamed alone. Zelda deserved to sit on dewy grass, simply to enjoy a dusk, with the smell of salt and roasted fish in the air.

She would enjoy it so.

But he had to wonder, and he wished he did not have to, how and when had he arrived at the seaside village? Had a portal taken him? And, if so, where were the heroes of old? Had they finally realised what a failure he was after he died once again?

Oh. 

That is how he got here.

“You have realised,” A soft and sweet voice whispered mournfully, her webbed hand with its sharp nails laid gently on his shoulder, “I regret we meet like this, always.”

His breath shook and he, then, noticed how his lungs did not quite feel right. They were tight and full of liquid where there should be none. Blood, he assumed. She sat down, so very close to him that their arms were touching. Her very being a comfort to him, and she knew what influence she had on the weak and hurt. On him. 

“Mipha,” His voice shook terribly so, “Oh Mipha-”

“Do not be afraid to cry,” She moved so she could sit in front of him, her hands took his, her head tilted so she could gaze into Link’s downcasted eyes, “It is not weak to cry, you have been so incredibly brave.”

As if her words were permission, a sob wracked through his aching body. Tears escaped the confinement of his eyes and hurt, on such a level he did know he could feel, overwhelmed his mind, “I died again,” He felt like he was admitting a dirty secret. And that was because, to him, it was his filthy and shameful truth. One he hadn’t admitted fully to anyone, not even Zelda knew the exact number he had perished and succumbed to the battles that had befallen him.

But Mipha, dear and soft, she knew. She had been there for all of them except one, his first. Her magic carried the scars of his deaths, the heaviness that was to revive someone. Someone less would crumble underneath it, but Mipha did not. Because she was kind to a fault. Caring as if she was Mother Nature herself, the goddess of life itself. Mipha, oh dear Mipha, his love of a life he barely remembers- she looked at him with eyes that made his heart hurt for past times. Her words were spoken with such devotion he did not deserve. 

The only reason he did not fail to save everyone on his second try.

“You died, yes you did. But my love,” She smiled, “You saved a life as well. Someone’s husband, someone’s father. And it did not matter to you who you saved, how you were wronged such by him,” Mipha tucked a loose string of hair behind his disfigured ear, “A true hero is not one that wins on the first try. It is a soul that falters and falls, and still decides to stand up again.”

The sun disappeared into the ocean and in its place the night welcomed the return of stars plenty and the darling moon. Before him, just over the shoulder of Mipha, Link could see how the water reflected the shine of those glorious wonders in the sky. How the ripples of the water turned from waves to peculiar waters that made place for air. 

“You have been challenged a plenty,” Mipha also looked back, the proud village of the Rito before them, “Even by the ones supposed to be your allies, but you took every chance you found and fought for them.”

Revali’s mocking and fake arrogance and pride echoed over the snow-ridden lands.

“He would’ve called me pathetic,” Link chuckled through the tears, ignored how his lungs started to feel better, “Would’ve thrown another axe at me for good measure.”

An easy but nostalgic smile played on Mipha’s features, “Revali was a soul hurt by the expectations it had to endure,” A knowing look in her eyes, “Full of anger and envy and such a pronounced feeling of being lost- till the very moment his heart pumped blood for the very last time.”

“Mipha-”

“He reminds me such of your new friend,” Mipha interrupted him, “Legend was his name?”

Suddenly, the snow was unbearably cold and the moon heavy. The hero of Legends- the hero that held him as they wrenched the axe from his body. When his lungs collapsed and blood filled the hollows of his body that should never be not a space devoid. Legend, who had held his dying body. Guilt crept up in his veins, the disgust he felt for himself got yet another taste. Another facet of his failures as a hero. 

His soul was shattered, that was what Hylia had told him. 

Link had died and died and died and died- he had thrown his body away in his efforts. Had broken his soul to such an extent that it had to be held together with something. And if that was not bad enough, the mutilation of himself- he now exposed such a grueling sight to heroes. Made another Hylian shoulder his death, let a child see parts of the Hylian body he never should have-

“Are they there?” Link’s voice was small and fragile, “It was no easy or clean death.”

Mipha smiled ruefully, “It was not, I am having to take my time.”

“So they are-”

“No,” Careful hands took his again, “The princess of the era you take space in has forbidden them from entering. You begged her to do so with your dying breaths.”

The snow beneath his fingers started the melt, the cold and wetness did nothing to him. For he was not in the mountains, the stone beneath him was carved and elegant. The walls that closed Mipha and he in were familiar but locked away in his memories, as most of the castle and his time at the grandeur building was. 

“She seems kind,” Mipha said, “Burdened by her journey.”

As all of the reincarnations were, Link guessed. Cursed the moment they were born to carry a fate no mortal should ever endure. Kissed with the divinity of a Goddess too weak and distant to do what she wanted to do. Imprisoned into the expectations that were given to all Royalty. Trapped and forced to do the bidding of all except their own. 

“What happened?” Link looked away from Mipha and instead focused on the engravings of the wall. He could not stomach the look in her eyes when she told him how he died. And how she was bringing him back. A gaze of pure love for him and the pain that comes with loving him. 

And to be loved is to be known, so, of course, she knew why he looked away. It saddened her somewhat, he could hear it in her voice. He knew her just as well, for he had loved her just the same.

“Doctors of the castle took you in a carriage, away from the heroes of old,” She explained and the engravings changed. Started to show him what his mind had hidden from him, “They were told to do all they could but their efforts were in vain. You were brought to a room, healers hailed to be the best cast all spells they had, but-” She faltered.

“They’re not you,” Link guessed what she wanted to say. Her despair obvious to him, she knew if she had been there, she would have been able to mend his wounds enough for him not to die. But instead, she was but a company in death. 

She sighed, a shuddering thing, “They do not have the gifts I was born with. Their efforts could not save you and as they told that truth to the princess of time, the heroes entered the room.”

The stone moved, a weeping Wind lunged at the mangled body that was his. Doctors pulled the hero, so very distraught, back. Talking to him- trying to calm him down- but Wind collapsed in his grief and a disgruntled Warriors pushed back the Hylians, encasing the kid in a hug. 

“You woke up,” Mipha went to stand next to him, “Saw the horror on their faces and you, oh wonderful you, wanted to save them once again.”

“No one has to see that.”

She took his hand in a weak grip, her voice trembled, “It is not wrong to want comfort as you die, Link. Even more so, you deserve that.”

The dying body of Link beckoned the princess closer, her eyes kind as she listened to his dying whispers, “Alone, let me die alone,” Mipha whispered, “That is what you said.” 

The princess raised her arm, and with a short command, she ordered everyone out. Guards pulled back the heroes, they tried to fight back. But the fight of before and their grief had gotten them weak. The healers cast spells of drowsiness over them to help the guards just a bit. But as the princess was about to leave the room, she cast a glance at the stuttering chest of Link. 

“She could not do it,” Mipha told, as the princess on the stone closed the door, “She shares what I believe, Link,” The Zelda of the era of time crossed the room swiftly, her hands careful and gentle as she took his, “She said ‘Not one warrior deserves to die alone and cold’ and prayed even beyond your last breath. And it is she who is watching me mend your body.”

“I will have to apologise to her,” Link murmured, “She does not know me and yet I asked for plenty.”

Mipha averted her gaze to him, he dared not to look back, “It is not wrong to ask kindness.”

“Not everyone has a soul kind as you,” He answered back even if he knew it was not the answer she was seeking. Not the journey she had envisioned for him, “Thank you for reviving me.”

“It is not I who you should thank,” She said, almost angrily, “If it was not for your desire to live on, I would not have been able to do such.”

Those words, angry and sad as they were, were curious to him. It made him dare to look at Mipha and see how tears welled in her eyes, desperation and love engraved in them, “Mipha-”

“I am but a fraction of my soul,” She crossed her arms, “An echo of the Zora I used to be. I feed on your magic, it is why I have been able to stay. Why I have been able to heal you beyond what I could do when alive. It is not I that is the source of those powers but you, Link. And your desire to live.”

An image he had tried to bury in his mind started showing on the walls. A cliff in the Gerudo mountains, one that had views that made him dread his journey. It showed him all the lands he had failed before and the vastness that he was supposed to save. And if he looked back, he could see a Titan, he did not remember its name back then. Did not want to think about it too much. He had survived Vah Ruta by pure luck and by sniping it from behind the terminal with dozens of electrical arrows. Vah Medo had destroyed all his hiding spots and he had barely survived- escaping death with just a silver string. The titan of the Gerudo would have been his death and the lands were filled with people who wanted him gone.

He saw his options, all of them ended with death.

So, he chose how.

“You brought me back,” Link said, and the tears welled up again, “It was the first time you did.”

Mipha looked back at him with just as many tears, “You wanted to live, Link, your soul desires life.”

“My soul is broken and-”

“Lonely,” She said before he could continue, “You’re so incredibly lonely, Link. And it pains me to see it,” Mipha touched the wall and it broke away, sunshine blinding his eyes. But the feeling he got from his surroundings alone told him where they were. The forest of spirits, on the great plateau, “You are the Hero of Wilds-”

“Mipha, don’t.”

She shook her head, “Your soul is a culmination of magic and time, broken and repaired by a shrine connected to the very ground by the Sheikah. After your first death you became so much more than before, Link. You did not change, no, you evolved. The magic you have, the nature of who you are- it had always been inside you. But your death gave it and you the chance to grow. You were part of nature before and now you are the wilds!”

He could remember no time when Mipha had talked to him in such a way. 

Angry.

Frustrated.

Sad.

“I don’t understand,” And he did not, for years he thought himself broken. Even the Goddess herself had told him his soul to be shattered. And yet Mipha seemed so sure about her words, her idea of him as… What even was it that she thought him to be? More than Hylian? More than a mortal?

Mipha’s face crumbled, “May no soul responsible for your low self-image ever rest peacefully,” She sighed as she closed her eyes, “Link, listen to this forest. It calls you, wants to speak to you. It is because you are part of it, more than leaves are part of the tree. You are its roots and you are what gives those roots its strength.”

The wind seemed to respond to her words, it shook the branches and rustled the leaves. Brought animals out from their hiding spots, their eyes on him. 

“Nature is both solitary and community,” She opened her eyes, their gaze on him, “As much as you pretend to be a lone wolf- you are not. You’re a creature of both. Able to survive alone and in group. Needing both. So, Link,” She started to fade, “Do not deny who you are.”

“They don't trust me,” He answered, “It is not I pushing them away.”

Mipha simply looked at him with her kind eyes, she did not need words to bring across the message she wanted him to get. It was not that she was blaming him, or accusing him. And it was not as if she thought him to be the cause for the divide between him and the heroes. 

Mipha, very simply, wanted Link to be happy. And for that, he had to admit some truths he did not believe. 

She would only ever want the best for him, “Mipha, thank you.”

With a gentle smile, the last of her started drifting away with the wind, “It was my pleasure.”

Chapter Text

Blue encased the room, pale and cold. The stone of the walls, a deep gray that refused to retain any warmth, glowed underneath the touch of the magic blue. As much as they warded off heat, they welcomed the cold that was death. Because that was what was happening, a man had died. She did not know him, and had never heard of him before his demise. But she had comforted plenty of dying men she had never known before. Had not even known their name, only their occupation, why they sacrificed their lives.

With the man, dead, but not, lying down before her, that was different. She knew his name, she knew it as well as she knew her own name. She had sounded out the sound of the name with confidence, fear, anger, desperation- It was a name that carried sacrifice and loss and hope.

A name filled with failures and victories.

Life and death.

And it appeared to be that this Link had miracles written into the groves of his name. For he had known victory, as he won the battle that had fallen upon Lon Lon Ranch. And he had met death as a result of that endeavour, sacrificed his own body and mind for the survival of one another. He met the being that escorted the deceased because he fought, won and yet, lost. It should have been the end of it all, as death was supposed to be. Zelda had buried enough men and women and even children, to know that truth.

Unless you can change the past, unravel the strings of time, death was the end. The dark after a life of light.

But blue made this man’s, this Link’s, death something that was not dark and ending. It was cold, as all associated with death was. Yet, it was not freezing as it was supposed to be. The body was not cooling and his arms kept flexible. His death was defying all laws of nature she knew. Not even time itself was being touched or altered with, she would know if it was. 

That blue, which she did not understand, was alive. But it was just as death. It moved and breathed in the same manner she had seen old priests live, just before they passed quietly in the night. It moved knowing it was nearing its end. Or, as she thought it to be, it moved despite knowing it was supposed to be no more.

The lights of the chandelier, a singular thing that gave enough light with its few candles but was kept simple and practical, dimmed. The warmth of the flames drowned in the blue that brightened and enlarged. Growing from a simmer that encased the man’s body into something larger and towering. Into someone. Ah, she thought, no wonder the blue felt dead but alive. Why the man had stopped breathing but had the colour on his cheeks remain. 

The blue was a being that reminded her of Zora, the mere folk that was neighbouring her. But it was slightly different, the proportions and details altered. It- She- wore delicate but grand jewellery, and even if they were the same blue- see-through and filled with magic, the gems were obviously priceless. Live and death, something so familiar to the owners of such a heavy name. And so it appeared that having the adoration of Zora princesses was yet another shared fact.

Her hands were adorned with nails sharp and long, they could be called claws. A weapon attached to the princesses body, but she did not use them so. Zelda witnessed how the Zora, kind eyes that only focused on the dead boy, used her weapons as tools for healing. But what a gruesome healing it was.

Zelda had seen dying men. Had accompanied them as doctors tried and failed to preserve their lives. She had seen how their bodies were wrong and broken. Sometimes it was a sword stuck in their abdomen or a sickness that made the lungs filled with holes and blood. Rarely she had been beside a dying soul whose innards of the chest were exposed. The ribs open to the air in such a manner she could count them and point out just where they had been broken and shattered. Lungs and a heart beneath those bones exposed. The organs still as they would be in a body deceased. But she had seen them rise and pulse, when he was alive. When he looked her in the eyes with panic, not for his own life, and asked her to die alone. To remove his namesake from the room.

To spare them the gruesome end he was about to endure.

Zelda had not seen many living so accursed with wounds that large, they died long before she would see them. She had never heard the wish to be left alone, to perish on their own, with no other living soul to comfort them. Perils and hope, and the utter conviction and will to make no one else suffer. Yet another fact that could be named when you spoke of the name Link.

Careful hands pushed back lungs into the places they belonged. Her nails, covered with magic, were used to stitch up the gaping hole in one of the lungs. Tears that streamed down her face washed away the blood. Scales she plucked from her own body, if translucent, got bound over the cracks in his ribs. Melting into them as if they had always been part of their structure, only leaving a small line of red. It took a while, to put back his ribcage how it was supposed to be. 

Her tears never stopped.

Nearing the end, when the boy’s innards looked right. As if it was a normal autopsy after a peaceful death. With only his chest open, but ready to be closed. The Zora leaned down, resting her head upon his ribs, just above his heart. Still but warm, as if it was just on pause, as if the time stood still-

She closed her eyes and the magic started to well up. It was mournful and sad, Zelda did not know this man and yet she felt like crying. It was a large magic, something made up of nothing mortal. It was singing and it was not pleasant. A boding thing, lying in wait while terrified, wishing for something- someone. Desperation drenched the magic. The Zora quivered over the dead body of the hero. Her mouth moved but no sound came out. Silenced by death. 

It was a dreadful display, one that made even the toughest of hearts shake and shutter. But along the desperation, through the blue of her body, Zelda saw how that still heart became alive again. A beat, small but there, was the beginning of his revival. 

Lungs full of air instead of blood, enlarging and deflating alongside the rising and falling of his chest. A heart that beat slowly, as if simply asleep. Ribs that were whole, even if red lines made of scales coloured them now. And the Zora, tears almost dried, lifted herself up. She pushed the rift in the hero’s chest closed, making his body whole once again.

“Protect him,” The voice of the Zora shook Zelda out of her trance, she had thought the princess could not speak. She had a soft and kind voice, one that teachers and nurses had. Comforting and caring, “His heart is bleeding and I am not able to heal it,” She looked at her, then, “Please, princess Zelda. Watch and see. Listen and hear. And you will know.”

Zelda gazed at the kind Zora, plenty of questions plaguing her mind. A wound she could not heal? An emotional wound then? Something that made the Zora worried for the hero so much so, she asked a stranger to care for him. What influence did the Zora think Zelda had on a hero she never met before? 

But the blue got weaker and the Zora looked away, she had missed her space for questions and clarification. 

The hero was moving, just so very slightly and then his eyes fluttered open, blue met blue. A hero met his saviour. 

Link was alive.

“It was my pleasure,” The Zora muttered as her magic started fading out, her purpose fulfilled. And she left Zelda and this new Link to their own in a room, now devoid of blue. With only a weak flame of a candle almost finished. It felt emptier than before, the cold warmth that the soul had, gone. 

She shivered lightly in the chill of it all, and watched this Link. His hair, sun bleached blond, was long and matted, dried blood clotting it even more. Scars covered all skin she could see, a large one on the side of his face. His chest, still exposed because of his death, more tissue of battles won than unmarked skin. Zelda stepped closer, towering above him now. He was awake still, but his eyes were glassy and unseeing. She did not think he noticed her, but still his ears twitched as the heels of her heels clicked on the cold stone. Perhaps he had lost his eyesight, and now that she was closer, she was surprised he only now would've lost the ability to see. The scar on his face, a horrific burn scar, engrossed his left eye. Making it drown in the remains of a wound that probably killed him. Zelda was sure of it, it stretched from his ear, a chunk out of it. And travelled all the way down to his waist, disappearing underneath his trousers. His chest was covered with stabbing and slashing marks. But it was the burn mark that took half of his torso, streaks of it. And stars of the same type of burn, but differently applied, more sporadic, dotted all of his chest.

And in the middle of it all, a new line of pale white scarring. Clean and straight, carefully put together by the Zora princess. It was different from the jagged scars of wounds healed by nature, slow and with great effort. It stood out and it made her see the difference between the wounds he survived and the ones that needed more. There were plenty.

Too much.

No wonder he did not seem afraid to die. 

His hands twitched and she closed her eyes, breathed in deeply and made herself ready. Calm and collected. She could not betray the horror she felt at his fate. Had to hide the curiosity she had in the magic that kept him alive.

So she opened her eyes and put on a polite smile, “Hero, I welcome you to my time.”

The Link blinked rapidly at the sound of her voice and turned to her, his eyes, blue as the sky, focused. He frowned, “Zelda?” His voice was rough and silent, she had to strain to hear it.

And he used no title, no decorum, a Link removed from polite society? “I am the Zelda of the era,” She agreed, “And you are Link, of the future I presume.”

He nodded, “I-” Link’s voice cracked and gave out, he closed his eyes with the failure.

“Do you require medical attention?” Zelda offered, “I cannot fathom death is easy on the body.”

But Link shook his head and opened his eyes again. He opened his mouth and still, no sound came out. With an ease she did not expect, the hero pushed himself up, and swivelled his legs off the bed, “Do you know sign?” He asked in a dialect of sign she did not know, but she just could just read through the familiarity of the Hylian base.

She hummed, “I can. But your sign has evolved from our times, so have patience,” He nodded in return, some of the tension in his shoulders calmed, “You have saved the hero of my time, I thank you for that.”

He shrugged.

“And I have to give you my deepest apologies, my healers were insignificant. As a result you lost your life,” Zeld clasped her hands and bowed, not deeply, but more than she was supposed to ever bow before a peasant.

“It doesn’t matter,” Link signed, “I live all the same.”

“I think your Zora friend would prefer you not to die,” The words left her before she could stop them. The matter in which Link talks about death and life was grating to her. She who had been the catalyst to disasters and death- she who doomed her own Link to a fate no kid deserved. She who- no, it was not the time to hang on to those times. She forced a deep breath and did not look away from the hero before her, his eyes ice cold, “I apologise, I crossed the line.”

Link regarded her with narrowed eyes, “Your apologies aren’t needed, you are right,” He sighed, “She nor I like my deaths, princess,” He added the honorific after a pause, as if he remembered belatedly he was speaking to a member of the royal family.

“And yet,” Zelda thought of the shock-stricken Time, his recounting of what happened. How he was supposed to be the one that was struck down, but the new hero jumped in front of him. She thought of the horror in his eyes, the acceptance in those of the new hero, and she chose her words carefully, “You wilfully sacrificed your life. Despite your distaste for death.”

“I am alive,” Link signed, it was with harsh movements, “He would have died and he would’ve stayed dead.”

A defensive response, one that he probably told himself to make peace with his demise. A technical truth that makes the harsh reality a bit more bearable. And she agreed with his view, better a death that can be reversed than one that stays permanent. But it did not reverse the psychological damage, “Are you well?” Zelda asked.

Link took the question as a sign to stand up, stretching his arms, one of them metal. Turning and twisting his shoulders and back, his body in good shape and health, “I’m well,” He confirmed before he took a strange device from its attachment at the hip. A strange eye on the back, glowing orange in the dim room. 

“Shall I call the heroes of ages in, I am sure they would want to see you healthy,” And alive, Zelda did not add to her offer. Even if she knew the heroes were probably dead fast asleep. As she asked the sorcerers to make it so. It was easier to deal with mourning after sleep and a time of calm, she had learned. And she had not expected for the man to revive.

Link’s hands were busy with his device, so he did not answer, but his face scrunched. With blue light, so very similar to the Zora princess, the clothes of the hero changed. The damaged light blues of the destroyed tunic made place for a dark uniform, a thing that reminded her of order and the castle.

“You are a knight,” She stated, as a cap appeared in his hand.

Link nodded, putting the device away he saluted. A stern and rigid stance, his right hand bawled up at his newly beating heart, “I am the personal guard of my Zelda and a royal knight,” He introduced himself in a voice that kept falling away, “Now, they call me Wild.”

“Ease soldier,” Zelde murmured and he let his salute fall immediately. It was not the right greeting for this age, he was supposed to get on one knee. And he wasn’t allowed to look her in the eye. She did not know if it was different in his era, or if he was a lousy knight. Perhaps both, if the divine had any humour, “Hero of the wild, is it then?”

“It appears to be, yes,” Wild switched back to signing.

A royal knight, known to be strict and stern, named Wild. It was certainly interesting. He had called her without her title, so she had thought him to be far removed from his royalty. But that was proven to be wrong, “The Zora, she was a princess, was she not?”

Wild nodded, “The crown princess of the Zora,” He added, “And a dear friend.”

Royal knight and a close friend to another royal family, yet he had to be careful in his politeness. It did not come naturally to him, “I am pleased to hear Hyrule and the Zora remain steadfast allies, even in the future.”

He smiled but it was a tight thing.

Wild was shorter than her, not by a huge margin, but noticeably so. But the uniform made him look taller than he was, the proportions and colours making sure of that. The scars on his face were intimidating, maybe even scary for some. But the man had dark bags under his eyes and his shoulders slagged just a bit. He looked terribly tired and frail.

“Tell me, hero,” Zelda thought of the words of the Zora, her request, “I offer you a reward for your bravery, you saved my hero, his wife and their ranch. Speak of what you desire and it will be done.”

A frown appeared on his handsome face, he had not foreseen the offer. Had not thought of rewards, and why would he? He was a hero, sacrificed to do the bidding of powerful beings, willed to save. That all with no prospects for gaining anything besides nightmares and scars. 

“I do not-”

“It is rude to refuse a royal gift,” Zelda interrupted the knight and had to hide her amusement at his clear panic. His eyes were wide and his ears red. It was such a different reaction compared to his confusion and frustration. It was an innocent look, embarrassed and smaller. More like the man he probably was, behind closed and trusted doors. Away from her, a stranger and a royal on top of that.

“Your Highness, I do not wish for anything,” Wild signed slowly, carefully.

But she shook her head at the answer, “No mortal will ever not wish, it is our nature, hero.”

Her words struck him, she saw, he adverted his eyes. Pulled and twisted his fingers made of flesh, “I’m afraid my wishes are not something a princess will be able to fulfil,” Ah, that was more truthful. For if she gave a normal citizen the chance to wish, her power as royal would be enough. But she was not talking to a simple farmhand or seamstress. The man before her was a hero who had fought and died, far removed from his own time and loved ones. It was only natural she may not have the means to grant his desires.

She beckoned him to follow her, the room had become too dark for her taste. The hallway was brighter, filled with light and air. Maids and knights scurried along, avoiding her path and bowing when she passed by. She had not realised how heavily the room before had smelled of blood and iron, not until the freshness of plants overcame her then, “May I ask, what is it that you wish for, hero?”

She did not immediately get a response, she did not expect him to have one either, she would not have a quick response herself. She had food and she had clothes, a roof over her head and attendees for all her needs. Zelda had the life many dreamed of, she knew that. And yet, when she stopped by an open window, with the view of the sun going to rest, she felt not the happiness her lady in waiting described. She felt empty and alone. The view of birds gave her a sense of loss and a sharp sting of jealousy. 

What was it that she wished?

The only one that knew her cage, knew how it felt like, had left his. Had left his journeys behind him and married the woman he loved. His life was quiet and peaceful for a long while until the Goddesses wanted more of him. Leaving her alone once again.

She saw birds and envied them. 

She saw Link leave the castle to go spend the night with his wife and she longed to leave the large void that engulfed her very life.

“Wild,” She stepped out onto a balcony, with views of castle town and the fields beyond, “You have gone on an adventure, I reckon,” Zelda did not look at him.

The man stood a step behind her, ah, that was proper etiquette, “This is my third, Your Highness.”

“Third…” Far away, she saw a caravan of people, a single horse pulling a cart. Travelling town to town, selling their wares, showing their shows. Always on the move, free to go where they wanted to go, “I am sorry the divine asked for so much sacrifice.”

He stepped closer to her, right beside her, even. Not proper, not proper at all, “I wish for peace,” He whispered, “And I dream of being home.”

Home, the castle was supposed to be her home, but it was cold and it was not like her dreams. She was confined to the gray stone walls and the stained windows, “Once your journey ends, perhaps both wishes will be fulfilled.”

“Perhaps,” Wild agreed.

They stood in silence then, admiring the view, absorbing the light of the waning sun. Only the bustle of the workers behind them filled the silence. Wild was a lovely companion for the moment of peace they found, his presence warm and calm. 

“Your Highness,” A maid sank to her knees behind her, Zelda recognised the sound of long dresses dropping down on stone, “Your father, His Highness the King, has summoned you.”

Zelda’s hands on the railing turned white from the pressure she was putting on them, “Tell the king I will see my guests settled first,” The maid scurried away with too much noise to her liking, “Tell me Wild,” Zelda closed her eyes and tried to melt her stress away underneath the last sun rays, “As a royal knight, how do you cope with the court?”

“There is no court, not anymore,” He said, “Most died along with my first death.”

Huh. She tried to imagine it, no court- just her on her own. She thought of the dreams she had, they felt prophetic, but they could not be the truth. Not anymore. She was too old, she still had a father, the castle was still standing- She wasn't free as in those dreams.

Zelda opened her eyes, just to see that the sky had turned mostly dark. Wild’s dark uniform blended well in the night, “Your Zelda?” She asked. 

Wild smiled, “Survived, but she sacrificed just as much,” It was a rueful smile, one that spoke of much pain and sadness, “If not more.”

No parents, no support, just she- oh, she felt guilty for being jealous of such an event that left Wild in turmoil and literal death. But she was trapped and she was sick of it all-

“Zelda,” He called her and she should tell him to keep decorum, that he should be careful not to let anyone hear. Less someone tells her father. But she did not, “Thank you,” Wild said.

“For what?” Her chest felt so utterly tight and twisted.

He signed, “For not listening to me. For staying with me when I died.”

He looked so utterly honest in that moment, there were no alternative motives behind his eyes. He was simply grateful. Wild called her by her name, saw the decision she made as just a Hylian- no princess, no royal, just her morals and beliefs. And he thanked her for it. That while she knew that one of the guards must have told her father, that she was called to him so he could berate her. Princesses weren’t supposed to stay with dying men, certainly no peasants. 

But Wild knew of courts, knew how they worked. Yet he cared not, he had been freed and he gave her just a moment of that same feeling. 

“I am glad you’re alive,” She told him and she meant it so very deeply. He was not anymore a singular life she had held in her hands for just a moment, “My hero,” Zelda saw him rustle at those words, “For now, I invite you to dream smaller. Give me the chance to reward you.”

He looked at her and he saw her, “Then please, keep my revival a secret. Tell them I survived because a powerful healer arrived last minute.”

The Zora’s words rang through her mind, watch and see, listen and hear. And she was beginning to know what she meant, “Why hide from them?”

“I do not like talking about it,” He sighed, “Mipha’s grace is a complicated gift, one with many scars.”

“You want to spare them from the truth?” Zelda frowned when Wild nodded, “I am unsure it is the right decision, but I will not tell them.”

Wild’s shoulders sagged, “Thank you.”

She was going to have to talk to her Link, something about the reluctance was not right, “You’re welcome. Though, I shall bestow you another gift,” She held up her hand when Wild wanted to protest, “It is a bath, dear hero. You stink of blood and monster guts.”

He wrinkled his nose when he noticed, “Right once again, Zelda.”

“Now now, don’t you start complimenting your way up the social ladder,” Zelda laughed, it felt good to laugh, “Karya, will you please prepare a room and bath for our hero,” Her lady in waiting appeared from behind the corner of the open door leading up to the balcony. Always following her, close but far enough for Zelda to feel comfortable. 

"Of course," Karya made a courtesy, smaller than she should, but she knew Zelda, “If you’ll follow me, stinky hero,” She showed the way with graceful arms to the red-faced hero.

He followed her then without much hesitance until he just started going through the open door. He took the device from before off his belt, and with a few arbitrary looking touches, a dessert appeared in blue strings on his hand, “Here,” Wild gave it to her, “When my Zelda had to meet her father, sweets always helped her get through it,” With those last few signs, he quickly walked away. Leaving her alone on the balcony with only the moon and a sugary little cake. 

The hero of the wild, huh? She took a bite and smiled, it was good and sweet. What an odd but pleasant man.

Chapter Text

The cart rocked violently; its wood creaking under the weight of so many people. Its oak brown grain had already started to stain red. It all happened so quickly, his head was still spinning with it. One moment Malon had been screaming at him because he tried to protect his men; then suddenly his love, his heart, collapsed, gasping for air. The tranquility of their farm was gone in the blink of an eye.   

She took Epona, went to search for help.   

He ran towards the sickness that was ruining his home, the only place that made the ever-present hum in his head quiet down, only to find a battle already in progress. His brothers were in the thick of it all, fighting towards the middle, where Wild and Wolfie worked in tandem. It struck him how naturally they fought together. Why was it only him who was worried about Wild and his oddities? Why did even Twilight abandon him?   

A bokoblin charged him and from then on time went by as if controlled by a child. Too fast, too slow; it didn’t feel real. Time didn’t feel right; his chest ached with the sick malice in the air. And he was so tired of fighting alone.   

His knees buckled.  

He found himself on the ground, the mud wet beneath his knees. A terrible ache in his left leg shot electrically through his entire spine. It was then that Time had lost his sword. And it was why he had nothing to defend himself with as a bokoblin stalked towards him. He tried to stumble away; he wanted to live, he had a wife to keep living for. A future that he had envisioned and wanted to protect. But the bokoblin had a great axe in its dirty hands, and it seemed to enjoy the hunt. Its teeth gleamed, yellow and stained.   

It raised the axe. Time’s heart pounded in his ears. He was going to die- he was going to leave his wife a widow. And his brothers would keep the bitterness they felt towards him forever; but the guilt of his death would destroy them even more. He knew, because it would be the same for him- if one of his brothers died, he wouldn’t know how to continue living.  

But he had little choice in the clock deciding life and death, not anymore.   

Then-  

He struggled to breathe all of a sudden, as if his lungs had been ripped away from his chest. Blood covered everything: the grass, his clothes, Legend’s hands... Wild.  Oh Hylia- he couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t comprehend-   

Warriors filled his view. “How’s your leg?”  

His leg? He looked down and saw a deep gash, going from his knee to hip. It hurt. Oh Hylia, how it hurt. But it was also... numb. He stared at it, his body screamed in agony, but his head mind understood that it was nothing compared to Wild. Time knew that axe would’ve split his head right down the middle. But Wild was standing, the axe wouldn’t hit his head but right in the chest.  

“He’s alive?” Time asked and when Warriors looked back, Time could also see. The boy was in Legend’s arms, an axe- that axe- buried in his chest. Nausea rippled over him Time, and bile settled in the back of his throat. “How?” he asked desperately.  

Warriors shook his head; his face was rather ashen. “Willpower, I’d say.”  

Hyrule ushered Wind and Four closer. With a horrific sound, squelching and gushing, and a terrible crack of something breaking, they pulled the axe free from his body. The sourness of bile traveled up Time’s throat quickly, and only a moment later, Warriors had to hold his bangs out of the way for him as he retched. Wild - Time puked again, riding out another wave of sick.   

Time had seen bodies before. Dead; almost dead. He had seen men die. Wounds like Wild’s were not new to him, and yet the sight had never before had such an impact on him. The deaths he had seen... those people didn’t die for him . They never were close to him like Wild was.   

Oh, Hylia. He couldn’t breathe, and the taste of his horror made his eyes water. Or was he- no; no, he couldn’t mourn the kid. He was alive, still breathing. His heart, exposed though it was, still beat. And Time would not mourn a living kid. Not Wild; not that kid.  

Somehow he made it to the boy. His chest lay ripped open, eyes cloudy and far away. He looked young. Twilight sank to his knees, tears in his eyes and a howl on his tongue. He cared so much more for Wild than Time had realized; or was it simply the fact that one of them was dying? Was that it for Time as well? He had not liked the boy; something about Wild made him irritable and angry. But still he felt the recognizable grief grow in his chest; a heavy feeling that made it hard to focus on anything else.  

“Why?” Time asked and hoped the sorrows of his soul were not evident in his voice. “Why save me?” Legend shot him a murderous glare, but Hyrule hushed rushed words to Wild, and whatever he said was more important than Time’s pointless pleas.   

“Because I can,” Wild’s voice was weak. Tears welled up in Time’s eye as he looked upon the boy. “I wanted to,” Wild added, his eyes soft and a smile on his face. And Time’s knees buckled again. The pain of the impending loss was constant throughout; the sourness in his mouth was a dirty reminder of his guilt. Wild’s smile cut deeper than the axe ever could’ve.  

“You can’t die,” he whispered, “I won’t allow it.”  

But Wild didn’t listen to him. He had never listened to Time. He knew the boy wasn’t about to start listening now.  

Wild’s heart started to sputter out, and his mind began to fade just as the healers arrived. They put his slowly cooling body into the cart, and a soldier ushered Malon and Time into the same one.   

All that Time could focus on now was the blood-stained grain of the wagon.   

All he could see was the red of Wild’s blood, stark and pungent. It had no time to dry before fresh blood covered it again. The smell of the farm, hay and sweat, and the unique stench of animals were all overlaid by the metallic taste of iron, so thick in the air, it weighed down the tongue heavily. Mixed in together with the taste of his sick, it turned Time’s foggy head into a thing of pure hurt.  

Wild’s body lay in front of him, blond hair stained into a dark, jarring red-brown. Malon sat next to him, squeezing his hand. “What happened?” she asked, and Time could not find the strength to answer, knowing that the truth would break her heart. How could he tell his dearest love that he was the reason for Wild’s imminent death? When she had just chastised him about his treatment of Wild mere hours ago. Instead, he buried his face in her hair and breathed. His lungs still worked. His heart still pumped blood and beat loudly.   

Time was still alive.  

A healer hissed to the sorcerer beside them that Wild’s breathing was getting even shallower, who in turn brushed the beige cotton fabric that separated them from the front of the carriage aside, to rush to whoever was steering the cart. Soon they were leaving their convoy in the dust. Still, Time could hear the wailing of Wind; his grief echoed over the fields of Time’s Hyrule, and again something twisted his heart so very cruelly.  

As the wagon sped through Castle Town the crowds watched them pass by. Time could hear them whispering in curiosity and horror. They whispered about the blood that dripped on the sun-warmed stones. They wondered, who was it? What was happening? Why did no one stop it? And Time couldn’t help but wonder the same.  

The castle was as cold as always; its air humid and heavy. Dust on the flagstones flew up as they were rushed to a wing of the building he knew well enough. It smelled of medicine, a pungent smell that reminded him of plant monsters dying. Fresh, but with a hint of rotting. The walls were decorated with simple tapestries, simply to keep the cold out and the warmth in. There were no tales shown on them; it would not be proper for the type of wing they lined the walls of.   

The healing wing of the castle consisted mostly of large rooms with multiple beds. Healers scurried through the hallways, books and bags in their hands. But at the end of the hallway, so very long with so many doors, it became quieter. The rooms were smaller; private rooms, reserved for the most important of patients and the most severe cases of illness or injury. Wild was put in one of those rooms. The interior walls were slightly rounded, the rough corners of the castle softened. The candles had just been lit, and the beginnings of the wax were starting to drip. It was clean; sterile. The ideal place to treat a high-priority patient. To treat Wild.  

Time decided that he despised this room. It looked like most of the rooms in the castle, too small, too cold. Compared to the wooden house he called home and the forests he spent most of his time in, the room was unnatural.  

He stood in the doorway; Malon left at some point and he allowed himself to be pushed aside every time someone entered or left. His heart pounded so loudly, and yet the healers yelling orders to each other were louder still as they worked to save Wild. They were losing him, they needed a stronger potion; they needed more, needed better resources to heal him.   

A younger healer, some fat of youth still in her cheeks, tapped Time’s shoulder. “Your companions have arrived, sir Link,” she informed him.  

“I’m no sir.” It was a reflexive answer, one he had built into habit with all his castle visits. “Bring them here.”   

She nodded. “They are on their way. Do you require assistance with your wound, sir Link?”  

His wound? The pain in his left leg flared up at the reminder of it. It was starting to get terribly red and irritated; there was surely mud and other pollutants in it as well. “No, thank you.” It wasn’t logical of him, wasn’t the safe decision. But as he listened to the bustle of people trying to save Wild, his own wound felt so very insignificant.   

“Ignore him and heal his wound,” Lullaby commanded. Her heels were harsh on the uncarpeted hardwood floors and her purple dress dragged behind her. She looked regal as always, with a stern face and unsmiling eyes, “Link, I wish our meeting had more pleasant origins,” she said briskly. The healer looked between Lullaby and Time, unsure of what to do, but decided on following the command of her princess. “Lady Malon has been brought to your chambers. She seemed rather distraught. What happened?”  

Time blamed the tears in his eyes on the sting of the healing. “A new Link has joined our ranks,” he informed Lullaby. He looked away from the impassive face of his Zelda, his chest tight with emotion. “Our team dynamics have been… shifting, still.” It was a gross understatement; almost a lie. But yet again, he could not look into the face of a person so important to him and admit that he had lost his iron grip on the Chain. And how it had ended up in with the disaster they were currently in. “We thought to be safe at Lon Lon Ranch. It used to be a safe haven.”  

“Lon Lon Ranch was breached,” Lullaby surmised, her tone dire. “That is not supposed to happen.” She clasped her hands at the height of her hips, close to the body, over her golden belts. It was to hide it from others how she was fidgeting with the golden accessories of her dress, Time knew. The news had unsettled her, made her anxious. “How are the blessed heroes?” she asked.  

They had betrayed him. They preferred a new hero over him, and Time didn’t know why, because Wild had always been so cold. His niceties were faked; he pretended to be close, but he was distant from them. The stories the man told them were just that- stories. He told them only the bare necessities, just enough for them not to die to his abilities. Wild lied. And it was such an obvious thing, Time knew the others knew. But they didn’t seem to care; they kept close to Wild anyway, not even necessarily talking to him. Still they had started to take Wild’s side when problems arose. Even when their safety was at stake. 

The blessed heroes were utterly mad and illogical. And one of them was about to die because of it- and it was... Time’s fault. Hylia, it was all his fault…  

His head hurt and the tightness in his chest only grew worse. “He’s dying,” he managed to choke out. Lullaby looked alarmed. “The new hero, he-”  

A gentle hand on his shoulder. “I am saddened to hear of your battles and your loss,” Lullaby said. “Please let the healer continue on your leg; it is a dangerous cut. And I will be there to comfort the hero, so rest.”  

“No, I have- I need to-”  

“Link,” The princess interrupted, and shook her head. “Rest, my friend. You have suffered and you are tired.” Lullaby gave his shoulder a last soft squeeze, and then she glided past him with all her princes-born dignity to a man dying, and he wondered where she found the strength to be the calm in a storm. 

The healer finished with cleaning out Time’s wound. “Sir, this may hurt,” she warned, just before the effects of magical healing washed over him. His skin pulled and resisted the magic; his muscles contorted with pain. It was awful. Tears escaped his eyes despite his stubbornness, and he pretended they were solely due to the physical ordeal of healing. It was not because of the iron in the air, the way it tainted the already awful taste of the Castle air; nor was it due to the blood that was only now starting to be cleaned up in the hallway.   

Rushed footsteps echoed through the hallways; Time knew those sounds. The difference between heavy armor and concerningly light shoes. His brothers rounded a corner, distraught looks on their faces, blood on their hands.   

“Time!” Sky rushed towards him, Wind and Warriors shortly behind him, “How is he?” But the smell of iron hit him just as hard; he halted. His face paled. Such a strong scent of blood was a bad sign; they all knew that.  

“Wild, no!” Wind ran into the room, Warriors closely behind. “No, no, nonononono,” the young teen sobbed as a soldier stopped him firmly. “Get yer hands off me- I need ta go get to ‘im!” He pushed against the soldier and punched, though without much strength. Lullaby spared him a quick glance, sadness in her eyes before she focused on Wild again. Her hands held one of his, her lips murmuring prayers through the wails of grief echoing behind her.   

Warriors pulled Wind away, his face pale and stern. “Status report,” he barked, seemingly forgetting that these soldiers were not his. But nevertheless, the soldier responded, with a slow head shake and a grim look.   

Time felt sick.  

“Sir, I’m done,” the healer treating him said kindly, distracting him. “Can I help one of your companions?”  

Could she heal the fatally wounded? Bring back the dead? “One of us... exhausted all his magic,” Time remembered hollowly. He hated how weak his voice was. “He should still be unconscious.”  

Sky pointed at a room a bit further away in the hallway. “He’s there,” he offered, and looked at Time then, tears streaming down his cheeks. “How are you?”  

Time couldn’t look at those tears; he was weak to the hurt of his brothers. “I’m fine,” he grunted and regretted it immediately; Sky’s tears only seemed more pitiful. So, he averted his eye, turning his gaze back on Wild, surrounded by healers and sorcerers. Wind, kneeling on the floor, was crying his heart out. Warriors hovered above the kid, his hands hesitating to comfort him, as if he didn’t know how to deal with the grief himself.   

“She won’t let him die,” Sky said, voice shaking.  “She can’t, you know.” His hands, clenched so tightly around the Master Sword   that his knuckles were white, trembled with strain. “Wild’s special, the Goddess loves him. She'd never let him go, not like this.” He wasn’t looking at Time or Wild; Sky was staring at the hilt of his sword, tears dripping down onto her scabbard. “Hylia gives him all Her attention, his death would never pass Her by. She’ll stop it.”  

Hylia . Time felt the usual pang of bitterness at the reminder of her, and the grief of lives lived and remembered only by him. But for once, he also felt an urge to pray and hope in her name. Sky was right, Wild was loved; different than Time was. So, would she really let him die? Her favourite child? She and the Sword had sacrificed years of Time’s own life before because his body was too young, too small. So, would they really let a soldier as useful as Wild die?  

“He’ll die,” Four said, appearing out of nowhere; face stricken and gray, arms crossed tightly. Their words were harsh and filled with dread. A pang of something ugly and terrible shot through Time once more.  

Sky shook his head as tears rolled down his face. “Don’t say that!” he snapped. “We weren’t   sent on this mission to die! Certainly not Wild!”  

“None of us are special enough to be spared from death,” Four protested, frowning. “Not even Wild.” Their voice trembled. “So how will we tell his Zelda?”  

Time’s eye searched out Lullaby. She sat on a stool next to Wild, holding one of his hands, her eyes closed in prayer. The princess was a gentle woman; she cared for all. And she- Time’s lungs tightened. Lullaby would make sure Wild would die in peace, with kind hands holding him. She did that for everyone who needed it, for everyone who couldn’t die beside their loved ones. Like Wild. Far away from both his era and his Zelda.   

“We’re not telling her anything,” Sky pleaded, starting to sound angry, desperate. “Wild isn’t going to die! I know the Goddess and I know Her intentions!”  

“Then why is he bleeding out!” Four demanded, raising their voice. “He’s dying! We let him die! It’s all our fault and we need to tell his Zelda! You can’t pretend this isn’t real, Sky, you can’t act like your delusions are true. He’s practically dead already!”  

“How can you say that?” Sky roared, accusation heavy in his voice. “He’s hanging on! Why are you forsaking him?!”  

“Stop it,” Time sighed; he was so very tired. “Both of you. Fighting won’t help him.”  

“You don’t get to say shit,” Four snapped, eyes pinning him down. “You’re the reason for all of this!”   

The words hit Time like a blow. They seeped into the wounds on his soul, drenched the most vulnerable parts of him in truth and hurt. Weakened the structures that upheld his very existence.  

Sky weakly protested, “Four, don’t say that! That’s not... that isn’t true.”  

But it was and they all knew it. Even if he’d liked to pretend it did nothing to him and that he was free of guilt, Time knew it as well. Thinking back, Time couldn’t quite pinpoint when it started to go wrong. When they had met Wild, he hadn’t thought much of the boy. Just a kid with scars and fears, paranoid at the arrival of strangers. He hadn’t blamed Wild for that; Time would have felt the same if he were not the first hero sent to another era. Any of them would have been a fool if they were not wary of the heroes. And yet, it had irked Time when Wild had stayed paranoid. It hadn’t taken long after they met until Time felt annoyance at their newest hero’s arrival.  

Wild smelled like autumn leaves; he fluttered around the world as if he was new to it and yet, overly familiar with it all. A creature of nature, through and through. Time had noticed it the second day they met; had seen how Wild interacted with his horses and known, soul-deep, that Wild was like him. Something not entirely Hylian. Perhaps Wild did not grow up alongside creatures of the forests, as Time had done. But he felt like Wild would understand the pull that the natural world had, and the burdens it laid on them. The heaviness that was the hero’s soul, and the connection with the other heroes that came with it. Time loved his brothers; he would sacrifice much for them, and he had thought Wild would feel the same- but the hero chose citizens over his own soul instead, and Time couldn’t understand why. If Wild was like him, how could he abandon them so?  

Wild never stopped endangering them and yet he felt like the forest of Time’s childhood.  

Everything about Wild made Time want to relax in the shade as he listened to the critters hiding in leaves and branches, as he distantly heard the echoes of Kokiri playing in his head. Then Wild burned down his forest with his accursed abilities- and along with it, Time’s heart.  

“Time.” There was so much fury and grief in Four’s voice. “Did you know Wild breaks- broke his weapons like all the time?” Time hadn’t the heart to say he did know. That he watched and observed Wild every moment he could, to find something to hate about him. “Because we knew. We wanted to make him a sword, one that wouldn’t break. But you didn’t know that! And worst of all,” they pointed to the dying hero, “Wild didn’t know either! Because we didn’t talk to him! We never said one fucking word to him! Just watching and watching and watching! Because we thought there would still be time to speak to him later!”   

Wild reminded Time of his childhood and of the way it had been destroyed. And in turn, Time robbed Wild of his future.  

“Stop it! There’s still some time left!” Tears streamed down Sky’s face, “Hylia won’t let Wild die!”  

“Four, please,” Time went to stand between the two, “I am sorry-”  

“Sir Link,” A soldier interrupted him, his stance stern and expression blank. “The princess has asked you and your companions to leave,” Wind started screaming louder; the guard grimaced. “Immediately.”  

Time glanced at Lullaby; she had stopped praying. Wild was awake, smiling at the princess, the short and clear words ‘Thank you’ on his lips. Cold washed over Time. “Zelda,” he called out to her, “Don’t, please.” But the moment he tried to walk towards her, soldiers blocked his path.  

“What, what’s happening?” Sky asked frantically, “Princess, don’t make us leave-”  

Her shoulders slumped. “Leave now or I will use force,” Lullaby commanded, refusing to look at them, at Time.  

Wind cried out, “No! Ya can’t let 'im die!” He kicked and screamed as a soldier started pushing them out, “Wild! Look at me! Wild! Ye promised me ya’d tell me stories, Wild! Please!”  

Time stood frozen; horror etched into his heart. Wild was dying; truly, actually dying. It wasn’t a scare; it wasn’t a close call. It was death, and that was a truth that would not change. There would be no last-minute show of magic to turn back the clock; no healing springs or fae to perform miracles.  

“He’s dead.” Four clutched their tunic in white-knuckled hands. “We let him die- no- we tried our best and we did everything we could! But we didn’t! When have we ever talked to him- but he didn’t talk to us either, did he?! But he died! He has people who love him and we let him die!"  

“Leave,” the same soldier from before said again, this time more forcefully. He lowered his spear at them slightly. “The princess has ordered it.”  

Wild was on death’s door because Time had failed in battle. And Wild would die alone, without his soul brothers. Time felt like death was also at his door, the way his heart jumped and skipped; how it raced as if Ganondorf himself was behind it. Time felt himself being pushed out of the room; it was rough and yet he barely noticed. He couldn’t breathe, why were the healers also leaving the room? Why had they given up? Wild wasn’t bleeding as badly anymore...  

They closed the door.  

“Sky.” He forced his voice to work even if his entire being screamed at him to be silent. “Please.” He felt a deep hurt pressing his chest. “Please- Hylia sees you just as much as Wild- pray to her.”  

Tears streamed down the Chosen’s face. “She doesn’t respond to me,” he said, shaking. “She never has.”  

Chapter Text

Wind still felt the scrapes on his knees from where they had hit the wooden floors of the healing ward to grovel for mercy. His throat was hoarse from screaming and begging. His shoulder blades ached from how roughly the soldiers dragged him away. But worst of all, worse than the wounds still lingering from the battle and worse than the homesickness that had been plaguing him, his heart hurt.  

It was a heavy ache, pressing sort of pain. The weight of it pushed him further into the straw mattress; gravity itself changed by Wind’s grief.  

The ceiling above him seemed impossibly high and yet dangerously low, its wooden beams imposing and spinning — they were spinning and blurry — and Wind was crying. The pressure in his chest was suffocating him, compressing the air in his lungs. The room was spacious, yet it closed in on him as he curled on his side, clutching the fabric of his tunic, hoping it would take away from the pain. But it did nothing to lessen it; such a simple thing couldn’t change the past.  

Despite all of Wind’s hopes, his tears and pain would not blow him back to the moment just before Wild was hit. No higher power would let him go back to save Wild. No Hylia and no Golden Three allow Wild’s last moments to be in the future instead of a few hours before. They did nothing but ensure that there were enough heroes to finish the quest. And that thought hurt just as much; the thought that Wild was expendable . 

Wind knew some of the sacrifices Wild and his Zelda had made for their era’s. Had seen some of their scars and knew just how much they had been changed by their Quests. But not even that had been enough for the Goddesses to love and dote on Wild. For all that Sky waxed and preached that Wild was precious to Hylia, she  still let him die. She let him suffer; not only in battle but with them, with the Chain. Unhappy and lonely, pulled away from his era and his Zelda, freshly finished with his last journey.  

Wind’s heart hurt and ached; it was so tiny and yet felt overfull with grief. Wind was sad and angry. Everyone had failed Wild, including him, and he couldn’t help the tears that came with the realization.  

His door opened; Wind ignored it. “Wind,” said Warriors, his voice rough and tired. “Hey, kid.” 

The captain made his way over to Wind, his boots loud and heavy on the floors. His armour clanked and shifted in its usual grating manner. Wind’s heart tightened with every step Warriors took; he wanted the other hero to just go fuck off. He wanted to be alone, to simmer in the hurt that enveloped his entire being. But he didn’t snap, didn’t shout, and Warriors touched his head, rough hands in his hair, murmuring soft words. It reminded Wind so much of the morning in Sky’s era, and his tears grew heavier because of it, the hitch in his breath more painful. Wind didn’t want to cry; he despised that someone had to comfort him as if he were a little kid. But Wild was dead, and his was the only hand that Wind wanted in his hair.  

“How’re you?” 

What a stupid question, Wind wanted to snarl. “M’tired,” he said instead and curled up more, squeezing his eyes shut.  

“You haven't slept long.” Warriors kept his voice low. “But you have to eat, just a bit.” 

Wind was angry; it simmered, a burning that settled low in his stomach. An itch in his fingers. The divine had done nothing to or for Wild, but his brothers? Oh, they’d done plenty more than simply nothing. They’d pressured and hounded Wild, ignored his pleas for peace. Even worse, they’d provoked and hurt him. And now Wild was dead. 

“M’not hungry.” Wind shook Warriors’ hand away. When he joined the chain months ago, Twilight had given him a big, wide smile and told him that they all would look out for each other. When Warriors came along and recovered from the shock of seeing Time and Wind again, he had made sure that Twilight’s promise was kept. They planned, and they trained. Wind knew most of his brothers’ strengths and weaknesses; he could cover them because of it. They survived because of it; they kept whole as a group because of it.  

And now Warriors sat on his bed, trying to console Wind for a death that should never have happened. 

“Kid, I know it’s hard,” Warriors said, and the anger churned deeper through Wind, “and I know you looked up to him. But Wild would want you to take care.” 

“Ya don’t know nothin’.” Wind’s throat tensed as he spat out the words, muffled by the blanket. “None of ya knew anythin’!”   

Warriors was silent for a while, and the lack of response was even more infuriating to Wind. He was the only one who knew of the dragon that flew in the skies of all of their eras. He was the only one who had seen that part of Wild, his grief and sadness and all of his sacrifice! And yet here Warriors spoke as if he knew Wild. As if one night drunken was enough, more than all the effort Wind had put into getting to know Wild himself! 

“I’m sorry,” Warriors said finally. “You knew him better.”  

Wind had known Wild better, and yet it had resulted in nothing. Wild had sent them out; Wind had seen him ask it of Lullaby. Had seen how Wild’s chest stuttering as he tried to breath, torn open and so very not right. But no matter what Wind knew and how close he thought they were, he still wasn’t allowed to be there for his big brother, his personal hero. It hadn’t mattered that Wind knew Wild better; at the end of Wild’s life, Wind was just another one of the heroes who took Wild away from his home.  

 “We failed.” Wind still refused to look at Warriors. “Ev’n if we manage t’slay th’ origin o’ this evil. We will’ve failed.” 

A careful hand rested on his arm, tentative words reaching him. “War comes with sacrifice,” Warriors said. “We’re soldiers, Wind. And as soldiers we risk death, all for the good of our worlds. You know that.” 

Wind wasn’t so sure he actually knew that. “S’not worth it,” he croaked, watching the sky through the big window he was facing, and felt how Warriors’ hand stilled. “What’d our worlds do f’r us that we have t’go an’ die fer ‘em?” The light coming through the window bore down on him. Views of blue skies with just a few birds, the corner of a tower, and its roof met him. “If he died, what’ll we do?” 

“We live,” Warriors’ voice was tight, “and we fight. For him and ourselves.” 

Outside the window sprawled views that a day ago would have excited Wind, would have invited him to go explore the castle grounds, maybe climb a roof if no one was watching. But now he watched and dreaded leaving his bed. He couldn’t imagine feeling the wind on his skin, knowing Wild would never feel it again. The possibility that he could see Wild’s Zelda up there without Wild paralysing.  

 “Wind, you have to continue,” Warriors said, almost begging. “Little sailor, please look at me.” 

He hated hearing the desperation in Warriors and disliked being the reason for it. But all of it was so unfair and stupid. None of them should have to die. They should have stopped it, and Warriors should keep his mouth shut. Wind was so so so angry, and he didn’t know what to do with the burning of it. “Go away!” he snapped. 

The silence following the words was heavy and unpleasant. 

“Is that what you want?” Warriors asked, his voice so very vulnerable, so unlike anything Wind was used to.  

Wind wanted a hug and his grandma’s soup; he desired comfort and warmth. “Yes,” he said instead, regret washing over him the moment he did. Warriors was a lot of things: a nag and a posh pretty boy. But Wind also knew that the captain was one to listen to him. Warriors may see Wind as a kid, but he respected such boundaries and wishes. 

It didn’t surprise Wind when Warriors muttered, "Alright," before getting up from the bed. It rocked and moved, taking away all the support Wind so desperately needed. “I’ll ask the maids to bring you some food.”  

The door to Wind’s room closed; the noisy existence of Warriors’ presence was gone, and Wind crumbled even more. He had asked for it, wanted to be left alone, but he couldn’t help but be angry. Why couldn’t Warriors see that Wind shouldn’t be left to his own? That he was breaking under the empty hollowness that coloured Wind’s world now? Wind didn’t need the silence that filled up the room without his brother. His scattered thoughts and shattered heart were overwhelming in the emptiness of the space.  

He was alone; the thought made Wind choke up. The isolation of the moment was so very similar to when he was trying to force faith itself into accepting his soul. Wind wasn’t meant for the journey; there had been a mistake. But in the desperation of it all, the agonising thought of losing his sister, Wind had pushed through. His soul wrong and only the soul of a king stuck in a ship as a companion; it hadn’t been enough. The companionship of Wind’s brothers wouldn’t be enough, not anymore. 

Somewhere in his pain and cries, sleep kept overtaking him, even as it abandoned him just as quickly. It wasn’t restful or pleasant; snippets of dreams and nightmares followed Wind to the land of the waking. Visions of blood and broken bodies were etched into his reality; he couldn’t unsee and escape it. 

Wild looking at him with empty eyes, his arm lifelessly hanging from his deathbed. The light shining upon Wind’s bed got darker every time he reopened his eyes. Blood that stained Wind’s hands and tunic, most of it not his. Monsters’ guts so very pungent and sticky underneath his feet. The kind but sad light of the moon replaced the sun. Hyrule screaming as his magic got weaker; Wild’s body getting colder. A hand- someone's hand in Wind’s hair- and, oh he wished he wasn’t dreaming. 

Wild’s calloused and kind touch made him shiver with longing for a time past. The dream continued to be cruel and untrue. His rough and broken voice eased Wind into an easier sleep. Wind didn’t know you could sleep and dream in another dream, and yet that was what happened. Sights of horrors slowly being replaced by the smell of salt in the air and the rocking of an ocean beneath his feet. 

When he opened his eyes again, it was morning, and Wind despaired once again. Even in death, Wild was calmness and kindness itself. But it was a sick joke of his grieving heart to pretend Wind could still get that comfort. 

His back ached; he’d been lying down for so long already. Crumpled into a sad bag of meat. Sniffling like the useless child he was. But Wind couldn’t make his legs move and his tears stop. His body was out of his own control, and he hated it, but what did it matter in the end? Wind didn’t feel like leaving the comfort of his blanket anyway. 

A knock at the door. 

“Warriors, go away!” 

The arsehole knocked again, and when Wind ignored it, there was another knock, and then another and another. Soft but firm knocks and Wind felt as if his head was going to burst with them. Knock knock knock knock knock knock-  

“Stop, please.” Wind whimpered; he tried to hide underneath his pillow, to drown out the noise. The beat of his heart overtook the knocking, the panic in his breathing distracting. He just wanted Warriors to stop; he wanted him to go away just like the evening before. The man was stupid enough to do so anyway. 

“You worry your brothers.” It was Lullaby, her heels loud on the wooden floors but muffled by the long dress. “They did not ask me to come here,” she walked around the room, the clack-clack-clack of her heels betraying her, “but they are cowards and won’t come themselves.” 

Wind sniffled. Cowards? Not something he’d ever heard his brothers called before. Sure, he'd thought it, yelled it out. But someone else, a Zelda even, saying it... He peeked from underneath his pillow; Lullaby was standing with her back to him. She was looking at a painting; it was one of the castle with a blue sky in the background.  

“You share the same grief, and yet none of you dare to ask companionship.” Lullaby turned around; her brows were furrowed. “You were not like that last time I saw you.” 

“Princess,” Wind had to force his voice; it was rough and strained, “we’re broken- withou' Wild-” His nose started to feel incredibly stuffy again as pressure behind his eyes grew. “I don’ know wha’ ta do.” 

Her brows relaxed slightly. “Oh dear.” The princess came to sit on the edge of Wind’s bed, her gaze on him and so very soft. “You care about Wild.” 

“’Course I did.” Wind’s tone was defensive. “If ya met him ye’d know, it’s-” he paused, trying to make sense of what he was trying to say, “Wild’s impossible ta not like. It’s like, he’s just- warm.”  

Lullaby nodded and said, “Wind, I ask you to remain calm.” She took his hand. “I have met Wild, I understand your feelings.” 

Wind’s heart stuttered; he didn’t know if it wanted to race or not. The pulse in his ears was loud and overwhelming. The light from the morning sun felt too bright. 

“What?” he croaked in confusion. 

“Your brother lived,” Lullaby smiled ever so slightly, “Wild is alive.” 

Breathing was suddenly difficult. “Yer lyin’.” 

She laughed, a short scoffing thing, unbecoming of a princess. “On my crown and people, I vow that I only speak truth. The hero of Wilds prevailed.” 

His memories of Wild, his body covered with blood, chest ripped open violently – he couldn’t have survived that. No one could! Wind watched and searched for something in Lullaby’s eyes; a sign that she was lying or that he was hallucinating. But he didn’t find anything except honest and worried blue. 

“How?” Wind asked, incredulous.  

Lullaby answered, “A powerful healer came just on time.” Only because Wind had been watching, he saw how she shifted through her answer. The smallest of movements in her rigid shoulders. She wasn’t telling the whole story. “Perhaps,” the princess smiled, “You should go see him.” 

He could go see Wild- he itched to go run but the room was coloured orange in the morning light; it was still early. “Will he be...” Bloody? Whole? Ripped open? “Him?” 

She smiled. “I promise.” 

It was all he needed to hear to start running, after almost falling out of the bed. Wind’s body ached just as before, but he felt his legs and arms, and he was in control. The dullness of it all was quickly fading away with adrenaline. 

“Wind,” Lullaby called to him when he yanked open the door, “He’s in the kitchen.” 

And for the first time in what felt like centuries, Wind smiled bright and wide and called back, “Thank ya, Lullaby!” 

Chapter Text

The bells of the temple rang, the great volume of the sound echoing over the town, all the way to the castle.  

It rang once, twice, thrice... and kept ringing until the twelfth chime fizzled out. Silence followed. It was an unbearable quietness to Legend. His room was empty and lonely. Normally he loved a room just for himself; it was a luxury in times of travel. But it was oppressive now. Something he’d rather escape than find safety in.  

Staring at the wall, the world seemed to lose its focus. The stone edges stopped having clear ends and beginnings, and the gray grout seemed to blur out of existence in the light of the night. Legend himself started disappearing into the monotony of that damn cursed wall. He saw so much, more than ever before. The tapestry that decorated the far-right side of the otherwise empty wall was well in his view. But that wasn’t quite right—he shouldn’t be able to see so much. He had never been able to do so before.  

And yet Legend sat on his bed, an expensive thing fit for a castle, and stared. So much wall, so little detail. His head strangely clear but his mind muffled and distant.  

The tapestry had no story on it, just some colours and shapes. Blue borders, green leaves next to it. And a whole lot of red. Legend couldn’t see the shape of it – had no idea what it was supposed to be. But he looked at it, saw it, and shivered. His hands felt sticky. Legend had washed them excessively until they were scrubbed raw and bleeding. Until Twilight had pulled him away with sad eyes and shaking hands. But it hadn’t done shit; Legend still felt the blood on his fingers. The way red had caked under his nails and stuck to the fine lines of his palms. And the smell that didn’t seem to leave-  

It was nauseating.  

He felt like the world could fall away from underneath him, and if it truly did, Legend would welcome it. Maybe he’d actually cheer for a portal this time. Anything that would take him away from the cursed era they were in.  

Anything that would take him away from the body that was supposed to be Wild.  

Perhaps Hylia would take pity on him and bring him to his own era so he could embrace the people he so dearly missed. Ravio and Fable – they would give him some semblance of normalcy. Give back some of the stability Legend felt slip away in his own bloody hands. But the thought made his heart stutter; Wild would have liked Ravio and Fable. And they would’ve loved Wild. Sure, arson would’ve followed their acquaintance, but Legend would rather have Wild commit all the possible crimes than have the memory of holding his dying brother.  

But the thought didn’t matter anyway; Legend heard the temple bells ring one, two, three times, and no portal had taken him to some other era. Night was passing by, slow yet unfathomably quick. The stone wall and tapestry turned more muted and hidden in the deep of the night. The period before dawn was darkest of all, and Legend wished he could melt into it. For maybe there, he would be able to forget the red on his hands and the way Wild’s light had gone out.  

One, two, three, four and a fifth chime rang out. Rustle and bustle started to fill the halls as maids and servants started preparing for the day. The silence was no more, and rays of sun started to seep into existence.  

But Legend hadn’t disappeared with the dawn, nor had a portal stolen him away. He still sat on his expensive bed with its silken covers soft under his hands. And he didn’t dare look if he had stained them red.  

The silence had haunted Legend through the night, but the noise of people living their lives mocked him. It shook him by the shoulders as if to say,  ‘See? It isn’t that difficult to keep people alive! They can do it, no problem! So why can’t you?’ .  

And Legend didn’t find the strength to disagree. Could only see how he had failed Wild, in life and now in death as well. Legend wasn’t thinking. Hadn't been thinking as he finally got off that bed to escape the looming red tapestry.  

Disappearing into the stream of maids and guards was easy. Keeping away from his brothers' rooms was only natural to him. He had just started walking and kept on going and going until he ended up in front of that cursed door in the medical wing.  

It wasn’t a special door; it looked like all the others. Dark oak, vertical planks, the handle a heavy metal thing hanging on just a slab of the same material. He looked back to the rest of the hallway and was greeted with plenty more of the same door. Imposing in the amount of them. Haunted by the new association they now carried.  

Was Wild still in that room? Cold and stiff? With bugs already starting to creep up to him, ready to start the natural process of decomposition. Legend didn’t want to think about it and felt how his chest tightened just by the mental image. Wild’s body, left alone in a strange era, away from his family, and away from his home.  

And Legend didn’t even have the guts or the strength to open that damn door. He wanted to know if Wild was still there, rotting alone. But touching that handle sent shivers down his spine and made his heart stutter and ache. He couldn’t do it. When they pulled Wild away from him, when the doctors took him from Legend, Wild was still alive at that point;   bleeding heavily and losing consciousness, but alive. And Wild was meant to stay alive, in body and spirit. He wasn’t meant to be a thing of death; it was against his nature.  

Legend’s knees felt weak, his body heavy. The feeling of loss was infinite.  

How were they supposed to go on without Wild?  

How were they supposed to be whole when they lost a part of themselves?  

“My apologies for disturbing you, hero.”  

With great difficulty, Legend managed to look away from the door towards the gentle voice. An unassuming maid stood before him, her head slightly bowed as if he had any real standing in the castle.  

“Speak.” His voice cracked.  

The maid nodded, “Her Highness Princess Zelda has summoned you and your companions to the inner courtyard.” She conveyed the message in careful wording and pronunciations. “Though, Her Grace has made clear you were expected, preferably with your soul and mind calmed.”  

That had to be a joke. Legend stared at the maid, expecting her to start laughing or some shit. Of calm mind and soul? His hand twitched for some weapon and a dummy to obliterate. That damn princess knew well enough that none of them were of anything close to sound of mind and soul! Not before Wild, not after Wild!  

“Tell yer Princess that she’ll have’ta wait for a damn while then.” Legend scoffed, anger churning in his gut.  

But despite Legend’s foul mood, the maid simply smiled. “ If you do not know how to go on, then let your calm mind and soul be a fact of the future.” She recited, “Princess Zelda encourages you to find answers, hero. Alone, in front of a door. Or, with Her and your companions.”  

Legend sighed; he was tired. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t had a moment of real rest. Fate and destiny had kept him tortured, and now royalty sought to make his anguish even worse. And it didn’t help that the maid looked so proud of her princess, as if Lullaby had found the cure to all sadness. Had no one in this damn castle realised what they lost? Had no one noticed that the world wasn’t as bright anymore? Was he truly all alone in his grief?  

“Hero, the clock is ticking.” The maid smiled, narrow-eyed.  

Hylia damn. “Whatever,” Legend grumbled before pushing past the very annoying and pretentious maid. Lullaby’s politely nasty manner of speaking was rubbing off on her staff.  

The hallways had become busier than before, everyone awake and well by now. Legend should be used to it; he had been in castles plenty of times. Had been in the medical wing just a couple of hours ago. But the healers walked slowly, their voices hushed yet excited. Groups of them huddled at windows, a thrill of ecstasy among them. It wasn’t right, Legend had known enough healers to know a death on such a scale as Wild’s would devastate them.  

It was uncomfortable, their happy buzzing. They had failed and they were acting as if nothing happened? Despicable.  

“Did you see who did it?” one of the healers asked someone else just as Legend passed them.  

“No one has!” the other healer answered, awe in their voice. “They just appeared and disappeared! Didn’t even enter the room!”   

Their voices fizzled out as Legend left the medical wing, his path taking him deeper into the castle.  

“It’s a miracle-” A guard whispered to a servant, hidden behind a pillar.  

Legend frowned.  

“But how? It’s impossible!” Someone else exclaimed.  

The halls of the castle, with its bright red carpets and its hundreds of staff being illuminated by the light coming from the large windows, felt impossibly narrow to Legend. Every turn he took—left, right, or straight forward, towards Lullaby and her damn antics—was met by whispers and excitement. It wasn’t just the medical wing, and it certainly wasn’t in Legend’s head.  

Something had happened, and Legend was out of the loop. Guards had smiled at him, warm and happy. Not the remorseful smile you expected from the whole world after a loved one died. The castle didn’t feel like a funeral, as it damn well should. The rigid place felt more alive than ever, and it wasn’t meant to be. Wild was dead, and no one seemed to care.  

The maid who always served Legend and his brothers when they were at the castle greeted him with a bright smile. “Sir Legend!” Julia clapped once in her hands. “I am so relieved for you! Oh, you must be ecstatic that everything turned out to be just fine!”  

Cold washed over Legend, “What?”  

“The whole castle is in uproar!” Julia exclaimed. “A mysterious healer saving a man on the brink of death! And to such an extent that the hero is already up and about! It’s as if from a fairy tale!”  

Her words couldn’t be real. It couldn’t be true.  

Wild's chest had been ripped open, heart exposed, blood drained.  

Wild had died.  

Brutally and painfully.  

“And he’s such a kind man!” Julia continued, oblivious to Legend’s anguish. “We’re emptying a room in the same hallway as your quarters for Sir Wild. It’s taking longer than expected, but we’ll try our best so the hero has his own room by tonight!”  

She kept talking, but Legend   didn’t hear her. Her words passed in a blur, the world askew. It couldn’t be. He looked around, desperate to find some wrong detail that could prove he was dreaming or hallucinating. But there was nothing off from the ordinary; he recognised the people, and the tapestries were all in order. There was no fault, no hint of a dream world.  

Wild was alive?  

Legend’s heart thumped loudly, his pulse palpable at the base of his throat.  

Wild was alive-  

His feet were faster than his mind; he was running, dodging confused and startled people in the hallways. His breathing was laboured and inconsistent, as if he had been fighting for hours already. Tired and exhausted – unsure what was going on. Legend’s mind was so very full.  

How was Wild alive?  

He tripped over a ripple in the carpet. His knees and hands scraped, pulsing with adrenaline. But he barely felt it as he scrambled upright; he had to keep running. Unrest in his heart and impatience in his veins, the castle was too large to get places quickly. The inner courtyard at the heart of it all- Lullaby – did she know? She had to know.  

‘If you do not know how to go on, then let your calm mind and soul be a fact of the future.’  

Sly fucking princess, Legend seethed. Damn royalty, damn fate!  

The end of the last hallway was in sight, the door to the inner courtyard open. It was blinding, the sun bright and warm. And Legend? He stopped in his tracks. Fear gripping him by the throat. What if he was dreaming again? Maybe he had fallen asleep; maybe a storm had taken him again-  

Nausea hit him suddenly and heavily. His feet wobbly underneath him.  

Legend wouldn’t be able to handle it, not again. If the Wind Fish was back and played him again – he didn’t know what he would do.  

And what if the maids were misinformed? What if someone else miraculously lived through the night? What if Wild did in fact die, as Legend thought had been the case? Then he would enter the inner courtyard, hope and relief in his veins, only to crash back down into reality.  

Legend couldn’t decide what he’d rather be the truth.  

His heart in his throat, fear embedded in everything he was. Legend fought to find the courage that was the base of his soul. Of Wild’s soul. And he took a careful step, and another one.  

The temple bells began to ring once again; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight times. It had been such little time since Wild had left the world, even less since Legend found hope. Yet it had been so incredibly long and exhausting.  

A final step was all it took; with one final step, he’d be in the sunlight, and he’d be able to face the truth. Whatever that might be.  

Heart in his throat and desperation in his veins, he took that final step into the inner courtyard. The wooden floors  changed into became a stone path, lined by beautiful flowers and bushes. Further into the courtyard, right in the middle of the space, a spacious gazebo. Lullaby was surrounded by familiar faces: her lady-in-waiting, Wind, Wolfie, and- Oh hylia, Legend's heart threatened to give out from the stress.  

“Wild-?”  

His brother, alive, turned to him. His eyes, electrical blue and open , on Legend. A small and loose smile on his face, “Morning.”  

Pressure that had been building since the day before, when Legend had his brother in his arms, bloody and dying, disappeared in just an instant. Relief and happiness flooded his body, his knees weak with it. “This’s a dream.” He whispered, not loud enough for anyone next to Wolfie to hear. It had to be; the gods would never permit something to go right – would never give Legend something so grand.  

“Well, are you not coming any closer?” Lullaby asked, amusement in her voice.  

“Ledge, c'mere.” Wind’s voice was rough, his face red and blotched. He’d been crying. His lips still trembling with emotion.  

But Legend wasn’t sure if he could walk, afraid to break some kind of spell. If he stepped underneath that gazebo with all of them, would they remain? Or would they fade away, revealing that it was a dream anyway? One that no dream fish had made, but his own cruel mind.  

Was it allowed to be real?  

Wild alive and walking around, as if nothing had happened?  

Tears threatened him; he didn’t want to cry. Not in front of all of them, not when there was no death to cry over anymore. But he was weak, and he felt small.  

“How the fuck are ya alive?” Legend remained still in his spot, his body trembling, his voice full of hurt and disbelief and happiness.  

“Legend-” Wind started crying.  

“Don’t get I wrong, I’m glad yer alive but I held ya,” Legend’s voice started to break, and the tears couldn’t be held back, “while you were dyin’, bleedin’ and dyin’, I held ya!” He couldn’t look at them, not at Wild or Wind or Wolfie. It was too much. They were too much. “Ya had a hole in yer chest, Wild. I saw yer heart and now-” His chest hurt, and breathing was difficult, “yer just... here. As if I don’t have yer blood on me hands.”  

He hated crying, hated the emotions that came with it. He’d rather be angry and scream. Pretend like it didn’t matter to him. And normally, he would be able to do just that.  

But Wild touched his shoulder, his long hair hanging loosely into Legend’s downcast view. And he hugged Legend. Wild was warm; he smelled like uprooted dirt and fallen leaves. And his heart was beating loudly enough for Legend to hear.  

Wild was alive.  

Oh, Hylia blessed, Wild was holding him. Gently and carefully, as if Legend could break at any moment. As if it was Legend who almost died and not Wild himself. And the anger that seemed to always exist in Legend melted away with the care Wild showed.  

“Don’t ya ever scare me like that ‘gain!” Legend sobbed as he desperately grabbed onto Wild’s tunic. “Don’t ya dare die on me watch!”  

Wild didn’t answer, just kept holding Legend tight. Later, Legend may demand an answer and promises from Wild. But he cared too little and felt too much at the moment, so he relented and revelled in Wild’s companionship.  

“Can I join?” Wind’s fragile voice popped up next to them.  

Legend looked down at the kid, pale and wide-eyed, “Why even fucking ask.” He said before pulling the kid close. Wolfie followed closely behind, leaning heavily on Wild.  

“Oh, how pleasant!” Lullaby chimed. “Only the arrival of the remaining heroes is necessary for a complete reunion!”  

“Shut up!” Legend sneered while burying himself further into the hug with his brothers.  

Karya, Lullaby’s lady-in-waiting, gasped at Legend’s words and was about to comment, but the princess raised her hand. “Ever so polite, hero of Legends.” She smiled. “Now, please come join me again, for the tea is getting cold.”  

A low chuckle made Wild’s chest rumble; it was a pleasant sound, one Legend had already missed so terribly. “Princess, if ye’d like to join the hug, you can.”  

The suggestion made Legend pause; he distanced himself just enough to look up at Wild. The hero was looking over at Lullaby with an amused smile. And she looked back, just as amused.  

“Perhaps when all heroes are here and showered.” She joked.  

Wind pulled away from the hug as well, just to stick out his tongue at the princess, “Yer loss!” Wolfie barked in agreement.  

Lullaby laughed, an unusual sound for the princess.  

“Wild- what did you do to her?” Legend asked with horror and amazement.   

But his brother seemed lost. “Nothin’?”  

“Thank Hylia-”  

They all swivelled their heads towards the entrance to the inner courtyard. There stood Sky, Warriors and Hyrule, faces pale and tears in their eyes.  

“Mornin’,” Wild said again.  

“Wild! We thought you died! You can’t just say mornin’!” Legend chastised him just before the wind got knocked out of him by three heroes throwing themselves into the hug.  

Sky was actively bawling his eyes out, “I prayed and I prayed, and she listened! She listened for once! Oh Wild, my soul brother!” He grabbed the hero’s face. “You live – you actually live!”  

Hyrule sniffled, “Me magic’s wasn’t ‘nough,” he said through his snot, “M’sorry Wild!”  

Wild seemed baffled by the attention, simply petting the heroes that clung to him. Hadn’t the man realised what they went through the last night? They mourned him, of course they would.  

“Good to have ya back!” Warriors clapped Wild on the back, “Ya had me scared, I gotta admit!”  

“I’m sorry,” At least Wild had the sense to look guilty.  

“But- how?” Hyrule asked.  

Wild looked over to Lullaby, his eyes large, “Uh-”  

“A healer,” The princess took over, “they weren’t at the castle at first. But came in just in time.”  

Warriors frowned, “But the injuries-”  

“Just on the verge of salvageable.” Lullaby interrupted the captain with a tight smile. “Though it hadn’t been easy on them.”  

“She won’t let us thank them,” Wind pouted, “said they’re sleepin’ or some shit.”  

Hyrule nodded, “I would’a be out for a while ‘swell. Magic’s drainin’.”  

Wild smiled at them, a tight little thing, “I thanked the healer; do not worry.” He signed.  

“Wild, we thought you were dead.” Sky took him by the arm. “Of course we worry, and of course we want to thank your saviour.”  

“Now,” Lullaby stood suddenly next to them, “will everyone be nice and obedient for once and come drink tea with the poor, lonely princess?” She smiled narrow-eyed. More a demand than a question.  

Wild nodded hurriedly and lightly pushed the heroes clinging to him towards the gazebo.  

“What’s up with her?” Warriors asked Legend. “She’s so...”  

“Strange?” Legend added to his question.  

The captain nodded. “First Sun... now Lullaby, does Wild have Zelda magic?”  

“It would explain a lot.” Legend nodded. “You don’t look too shocked he’s alive.” He said as they slowly started walking towards the gazebo, behind the rest.  

Warriors looked at him sideways, brows furrowed. “I am plenty shocked, I am also very perplexed.” His gaze searched Wild then. “You see much death in war, and that wound was one that killed. Not one to be healed.”  

“Then... how?”  

“I don’t know.” Warriors whispered, something akin to horror in his voice. “If it was a healer, truly, then I can’t imagine in what anguish Wild had been through the treatment.”  

Legend thought back to all the times Hyrule healed a wound, the way it pulled and stretched the wound into a scar. It hurt, no matter how large the wound. But the larger, the more painful. A wound on such a scale as Wild’s... Legend didn’t want to think about it too much.  

“The heroes of Time and Four Swords do like to keep me waiting.” Lullaby politely complained, one hand holding her tea, the other softly on her cheek.  

“It is early.” Wild signed.  

“Nonsense!” The princess exclaimed, “It is already the eighth hour!”  

Just as she said it, Time walked into the courtyard. “It is the ninth hour, your highness.” And as if to prove it, the temple bells began to ring. One, two, three, four... until the ninth hour.  

“Oh Goddesses,” Malon had walked in just behind her husband, eyes red, cheeks blotched. But unlike Time, she hadn’t solely looked at the princess, “Wild!” She burst into tears as she ran towards the gazebo, past all the heroes. “Oh, dear child- yer okay!” She squeezed his cheeks and tilted his head, examining all she could see to see if he was alright. “Thank all high beins’, yer alive.” She hugged him tightly after she was satisfied enough with his health.  

Four, who had been hiding behind Time and Malon, stood close to Wild but seemed hesitant to approach. The colours in their eyes never staying solid for even a second.  

“Hey Four,” Legend whispered, “go to him.”  

The hero opened their mouth and closed it again, wringing their hands as if they could squeeze out the answers out of their fingers. “Wild-” Their voice uncertain and unsteady, “we’re happy- we mean- uh- I am happy you’re okay.”  

Wild smiled, “Thank you, Four.”  

“Oh fairy, isn’t this great!” Malon smiled so brightly as she turned around. “Our Wild is alive! Alive and well!”  

They all turned their attention to Time. He stood frozen, still in the same spot as before. Just like Legend had been frozen, uncertain what to do.  

“Link?” Princess Lullaby asked.  

The hero of Time didn’t seem to hear; his gaze was purely on Wild. “You’re alive,” his voice was shaky, “but I saw you...”  

Wild looked down at his hands, “I lived...” he muttered, almost sounding sorry.  

“Thank Hylia.” Time’s voice broke, and Wild looked up in surprise. “Oh thank all the Goddesses,” the man fell down to his knees, as if in prayer; he bowed down low, “you’re still here.”  

Wild stood up, panic and confusion on his face.  

“Wild-” Time sounded like he was about to cry, “I am happy you’re alive, and I apologise for all I’ve done.”  

Chapter Text

Zelda’s head was held high, eyes stern and looking straight forward. She couldn’t show hesitation; she couldn’t let show how shattered her heart and mind truly were. Her long golden hair trailed after her, floating as if there was a current of air lifting it. There wasn’t. That was something Zeldahad to adjust to: the way her body reacted to the world now.  

Gold hair that glowed slightly in the night, always moving and shifting. Misshapen horns that seemed to have their own mind settled into the unruly strands, catching on doors and curtains. Ripping apart anything that was deemed too fragile by the sharp things.  

Nails that were just as piercing, weapons that she couldn’t hide or destroy. Zelda had tried to cut them short – tried to rip them out one particularly bad night. But they grew back almost immediately, bloody and vile. She hadn’t tried since then and chose to wear gloves instead. But it was the peak of the high season, and the gloves were warm and itchy, and Zeldajust couldn’t afford to discard them. Her hands clasped in front of her, as had been natural to her hundreds – or was it thousands – of years ago.  

The bridge underneath her heels chimed; the Zora’s architecture was grand like that, musical and blinding in its materials. Yet Zelda couldn’t find enjoyment in the sound of it. Since she had come back to her Hylian form, what – eight months ago? She had found shoes to be a painful thing, tight and constricting. Too grounding. When her dear Link had been with her, he’d said that she floated around. Her feet touched the ground, but it was in a fleeting manner. It wasn’t anything she did on purpose; it was her natural way of walking. Or it had become so, at least.  

Shoes were horrible things that took that freedom away from her.  

So now, the chimes of her heels wrecked her nerves.

“Your Grace,” a Zora bowed, and Zelda wondered, hadn’t Link and she done away with royalty? “King Sidon and Queen Yona are awaiting your arrival.” Ah, the reason why she was in a ridiculous dress and heels came back to her.  

The Zoran royals had requested her presence with an urgent-sounding letter; Purah told her that she didn’t need to go. That her health took priority. Impa had disagreed with sad and concerned eyes. And Zeldaknew in her heart and soul what had to be done.

So, with clicking heels on chiming stone, Zeldaclimbed up the grand staircase of the Zora palace. The ridiculous fish looming over her, an architectural wonder. She blinked, and the tail was missing. She shook her head, and it was all back.  

Damn Hylia, she cursed.

“Princess Zelda!” Sidon greeted her with open arms as she climbed the last stair. “My dear friend, how are you?” He clasped her shoulders carefully and tried to dodge her horns that seemed to have shifted once again.

Baby Sidon looked at her with big eyes as Zeldatried to smile her very best smile. “King Sidon,” he was so very tall all of a sudden, a wry look in his eyes at her voice, “thanks to the support of you and all of Hyrule, I have had the time to heal. For that, I thank you. And dear Yona as well.” She added just to look away from that suffocating concern in Sidon’s eyes.  

The green Zora smiled politely; she didn’t know Zelda well enough to see and hear the lies. 

“How are you faring?” Zelda  asked, her voice colder than she had intended.  

Prince- kid- no, King Sidon (she blinked away all the versions of her friend) released her shoulders. “Link has still not returned?”

Link-  

His name echoed to the very core of her being; it was a gut-wrenching feeling. She missed and she longed for her dear friend. He was her laughter and her tears, and Zelda’s only wish in life was to hold him. But he was away, so very far away and he still hadn't opened his eyes when it had been sixty-four years- 

“Lynels have been spotted in groups.” Sidon’s grave voice snapped her out of it.  

Cold washed over her; worse than even the skies high above them all. “Groups? How many?” She started to pace, ignoring the nagging feeling that she wasn’t being proper and right.

Yona was the one that answered, “Three groups, two of three lynels and one with four. All low-level coloured.”

“T’doesn’t matter if they’re low level. They’re with many, and it’s against their nature. They’re highly territorial and would kill their own offspring if they didn’t leave fast enough. So, for them to travel together–” Zeldalooked up; she had been nervously itching on her gloves, resulting in her stupid long sharp nails poking through. “Where are they travelling to?” 

Sidon had a perpetual frown on his face. “We have been monitoring their path; the two smaller groups are predicted to settle on Upland Zorana and Ploymus Mountain. We’re not as concerned about them. The larger pack, though, it looks like they’re aiming to claim Inogo Bridge and the surrounding area.” 

“They’re closing you in.” Zelda’s voice was shrill and shrouded. The multitudes that she had learnt to hide came back in full.  

“They’re carrying electrical arrows.” Yona’s voice was soft and worried; she held Sidon’s arm close. “Our soldiers can’t take them on.” 

In agreement, Sidon nodded. “We need Link.” 

Link, oh Hylia, where was he? Zeldaclosed her eyes and allowed herself to wallow just a bit. Just a moment. She felt her body twitch and change with the devastation of it all. She missed him so; they need him so. He had always been there for Hyrule and her but now- 

“Alright, alright-” Zeldamade a decision. One that would make Sidon screech in shock and worry. But she had to do it, so she opened her eyes. Unnatural and full of colour and so very not-Hylian. “I’ll deal with them.” 

Chapter Text

The ground felt unsteady beneath his paws, the stone too warm. The purple flowers, just to his right, were smelly and pungent. The yellow ones to his left, sweet and gentle. The air was salty because of all the tears. The courtyard was loud; everyone was breathing so very loudly, and the stone walls around them captured the sound and refused to let it sizzle out. But it was not primarily the breathing that made it so overwhelming to Twilight.  

It was Wild’s heart.  

And it was Time’s anguish.  

Twilight felt the pressure behind his eyes grow. He looked between his brothers and felt as though his heart would give out. It hadn’t been long since the barn incident, not long at all; but here they were again, the same situation in reverse. This time it was Time on the ground. This time it was Wild towering over Time. And yet Wild’s heart beat fast and loud, as if he were the one cowering close to dirt and stone.  

“I am happy you’re alive, and I apologise for all I’ve done.” Time’s voice was weak with tears. Wild’s heart was unruly, all confused and creeped out. Twilight’s fur stood on end with worry.  

“T-thank you?” Wild stammered; he looked back to their brothers and Lullaby, eyes holding a question. One that Twilight found he couldn’t decipher.  

Lullaby sighed, a small and fond thing. She stepped forward and held out a hand to Wild, not unlike how knights were expected to escort royalty: palm facing upwards, her other arm politely tucked away behind her back. Wild took it almost immediately, though with furrowed brows wrinkling his forehead. Lullaby smiled as she started escorting the hero towards Time. Wolfie walked right beside them, brushing against Wild’s leg every other step.  

Wolfie was there for Wild – he had to make sure his cub knew that.  

They walked down the two steps of the gazebo onto the stone paths and passed all kinds of flowers. Pungent, but their smell was almost muted underneath the scent of Time’s desperation.  

“Link,” Lullaby called to her hero, voice soft but demanding, “most do not cry from a distance after a reunion so miraculous.”  

The wind was shaking, tension in the air. Wolfie could smell the sweat on Time’s brow. Could feel the defeat in Time’s soul as the hero looked up. His singular eye was red and puffy; grief carved into it. There were no words on his tongue.  

“Princess-” Wild’s eyes were wide as he stared up at Lullaby. A shiver shook his shoulders, a tweak in his left eyebrow.   

Lullaby rolled her eyes; it was a short moment, gone before most could notice it. But Wild had seen it and he pouted at it. But both Wolfie and Time had seen her roll her eyes, as well. They did not pout; both stood frozen as they watched the exhibited behaviour. “Hush now, stinky hero.” The princess scrunched her nose, and Wolfie’s wolf brain couldn’t help but copy it. But not because Wild stunk; he didn’t at all, actually. It was because of Lullaby’s behaviour and Wild’s response. They were a spectacle... two Hylians Wolfie was supposed to know. But when he looked at them now, he could only see glimpses of the loved ones he knew.  

As if to showcase how little Wolfie knew Wild, the hero started to inspect his clothing, his pout only growing. “But I washed up good...”  

Back under the gazebo, Twilight could very quietly hear Legend whisper, “What the fack is wrong with them two?”  

Lullaby patted Wild’s cheek, her golden bracelets tinkling and clacking with the movement. “And I am so very proud of you for that. However, I am speaking, and it is rude to interrupt a lady. Okay, little Imp?”  

“Imp?” Wild whispered.  

But the princess ignored the cub. “So, Link,” she had authority in her voice that only royalty had. Impossible to ignore, literally illegal to disobey, “please cease your self-pity and come drink tea with your family.”  

“But-”  

“Now Link,” she interrupted the wide-eyed, slack-jawed Time, “I know our relationship is rather informal due to our highly unusual soul bond. But I’m surprised at your behaviour.”  

The courtyard had gone silent after her words; not even the bustle from the castle seemed to make a dent in Lullaby’s echoes. The murmuring coming from the table under the gazebo had been stunned in total silence. Legend’s never-ending snarky comments had somehow (and finally) ended. Lullaby deserved an award for that. Would she accept dried-out clay with Wolfie’s paw print in it?  

“I don’t deserve it.”  

Time’s voice snapped the silence and pulled Twilight’s thoughts back to the everlasting family drama they had.   

“Don’t deserve what?” Lullaby asked; it wasn’t kind. She was stern and harsh; there was a chill in her voice that she had never used on any of them before. And Twilight had to wonder, was she genuinely upset at Time?  

Wild looked small next to Lullaby’s anger. “It’s okay.” He signed.   

“No, it’s not.” Time refuted with a shake of his head. “My actions led to your death! Even if you somehow didn’t die. I was born and created to fight and protect!” Twilight heard how Time’s breath got shallower. How his voice went tighter as his vocal cords were put under stress and emotions. “I despised Hylia and the sword for putting the world on our shoulders. But I-” He stopped and shuddered. With his shoulders hunched and his eye filled with tears, he looked small and miserable. “I did the same, didn’t I?”  

“You-” Wild’s voice cracked and gave out. He groaned, frustrated with himself and his voice. Slowly, he opened his mouth again, but no sound emerged. Wolfie couldn’t help but whine softly at him.   

“Little Imp,” Lullaby laid a hand on his left arm, “take it slow.”  

And as if the princess had given all the answers in life, Wild nodded sternly, a new determination in his eyes. With confidence he left Lullaby’s side, striding towards the still-kneeling hero of Time. Wolfie followed, a pang of worry in his heart. Was Wild about to strike Time? The man would deserve it, but it wasn’t exactly the most diplomatic choice of action. The way Time looked up at Wild, it seemed as if he expected and accepted a punch as well.   

But Wild would forevermore surprise them all. Twilight should have already known that.  

Wild stood tall over Time, his shoulders square and high; his mouth set in a stern line. Their brother of nature stood firm-rooted in the ground. Took the space of the courtyard as if it belonged to him.  

And then he- dropped himself to the ground before Time.  

Time didn’t immediately respond, and neither did Wolfie or anyone else. Instead of justified violence, Wild sat before Time, crisscrossed. He raised his hands and began signing, “I don’t believe myself to be a hero.”  

“Wild-”  

But Wild kept signing; didn’t wait for Time’s words. “No, Time. Let me talk. You owe me my voice.” Twilight laid down as he watched his cub’s hands and vaguely registered everyone getting close. Curious bastards, but he was no better. “The hero before me failed. He died and with him, so did most of Hyrule.” He ignored the dismayed reaction of Sky. “I became the one who had to fix it all, no family or a name for myself. Only a mission. And I fought, Time.” Wild had years and grief in his eyes. Hurt in his scars. “I sacrificed and I fought. And sometimes, I lost.”  

“…What are you saying?” Time didn’t use his voice, but instead his hands. Like Wild.  

Wild looked surprised, but then a small smile played on his lips. “I have said things I regret. Trust the wrong people and distrusted the right ones. I have made mistakes that ended with death.”  

“Wild-”  

“I understand you.”  

Time hands shook as he signed. “No, it was unfair and plain wrong of me-”  

“I ignored your words, that day. Because I had people to protect.” Wild smiled, a small and comforting thing. “You too just wanted to protect your own.”  

Legend scoffed, “Ya belong to us too, dumbass.”  

“Part of the chain!” Wind chipped in with a silly smile.  

Wild looked at them and didn’t respond. Only the smallest of twitches in his eyebrow made clear that he wasn’t quite agreeing with their words. But the hero was too nice to say it out loud. Or perhaps he didn’t want another confrontation on top of the current one. Twilight thought Wild was an idiot for still not seeing his place in the group. So, Wolfie scooted forward and nudged his leg with his snout.   

“Thank you.” Wild smiled, a tight thing. “But it was different.”  

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” Time disagreed. “The moment fate chose you, you belonged with us.”  

“As if ya listen to somethin’ like fate!” Malon snickered. “Yer a stubborn one, fairy boy. Fate’s changin’ nothin’ bout that.”  

Sky had the master sword in his hands. “Perhaps we should trust fate more.”  

“Fate, my ass!” Legend scoffed. “This was all on Time bein’ an asshole!”  

“We didn’ help, though.” Hyrule shook his head. “Just... watched.”  

The traveller’s words were met by quiet pondering and an awkward look from both Wild, Lullaby and Malon. And Twilight wished he could disagree with Hyrule; he wished he could say he tried and fought for Wild. But it hadn’t been the case, and he had to accept that.   

“If Hylia was smart, she’d send at least one Zelda along with you.” Lullaby had her arms crossed and a furrow on her brow. “This team misses brains.”  

“And emotional competence.” Malon agreed.  

Wind nodded his head with much vigour. “The lot of them’s darn stupid.”  

“Language!” Warriors chastised the kid. “And you belong to us! So, who’s stupid here?!”  

“You are, ye stinkin’-!”  

The conversation left Twilight spinning. He was glad he was still transformed into Wolfie; no one expected him to talk. The atmosphere felt light, and his brothers had smiles on their faces. Small and big, genuinely happy and more muted ones. If Twilight had lips, he’d be with them, somewhere in between.   

The shock from Wild’s apparent death had been devastating. Twilight wasn’t there when it had supposedly happened. When they carted back Wild’s body to the castle, his wolf had flipped out. The smell of blood and death was overwhelming and maddening. He transformed, and he ran after the cart. But running through a busy town as a big, bloody, mad wolf wasn’t appreciated by the guards. So, he was held back and got detained until Lullaby ordered him freed. By then, it had been too late.   

Wild was dead, and Twilight hadn’t been there.  

But now he rested his head on Wild’s lap as his brothers made a ruckus about who of them was stupid and who wasn’t. And Wild was alive. And Time was apologising. And hope grew in Twilight’s heart; maybe it’d all be alright. Maybe Twilight wouldn’t have to choose between his mentor and mentee.   

“I will be better.” Time signed amongst the chaos that was their horde of brothers. “I will make sure of it, I will.”  

Twilight glanced up and saw how Wild’s hands hesitated. Felt the shallow breaths against him. “I can’t promise you cooperation or obedience. I am not a knight, and I am not a hero. I am just as much of a puppet in this war as you are.” He signed, his face grave. “But I will always do all I can to protect everyone. Even if I have to put my life on the line.”  

No one had seen Wild sign it besides Twilight and Time. The lack of shock and outrage of the others was proof of it. And Twilight didn’t know if he wished the others had seen it or not. To be saddled and cursed with the knowledge that Wild would throw away his life for them, again. He whined and pushed against Wild’s stomach. His cub wasn’t allowed to sacrifice himself; Twilight would do everything to prevent that, and Wild had to know that.  

Time had an ashen shine to his skin as he signed, “Please don’t.”  

Wild smiled.  

Twilight despaired at it. That wasn’t Wild’s obedient smile.   

“Wild.” Lullaby’s voice made everything quiet again. Her eyes were haunted, and Twilight realised that she had seen the conversation as well. “You may look good in blue, but don’t seek to cover yourself with it.”  

Was Lullaby... flirting with Wild? Twilight looked from the princess to Wild with a strong feeling of bewilderment. That was genuinely the weirdest flirting he’d ever heard. And Twilight spent lots of time with Midna.  

Warriors went to stand closer to the princess. “Princess Lullaby, if you want some pointers... let me know.”  

She frowned, “What?”  

“What what?”  

“Princess, I will try my utmost best to only wear a moderate amount of blue.” Then he looked at Warriors, and his polite expression changed to the most deadpan stare he could muster up. “You should give no one pointers.”  

Warriors sputtered. “And you should give back the temple bell!”  

“Wait,” Lullaby narrowed her eyes, “you were the ones who took the bell?”  

Wild coughed one really dry cough. “Hylia gave me permission.”  

“Hylia did, did she now?” She massaged the bridge of her nose. “I’ll accept it. Only if you keep your promise.”  

Wild was about to sign when suddenly his head swivelled towards the other side. “Portal.”   

Sky frowned just for a moment before he could also sense it. “Seems our time with you has run out.” He said to Lullaby. “It was a pleasure.”  

She chuckled lightly. “May our next meeting be more enjoyable.”  

Then the wave hit Twilight as well. That sickening and wallowing sensation that seemed to seep into his very soul washed over him.   

“Pack up, heroes.” Time sighed as he stood up. “We’ll try to stay to the very last minute.” He turned to Malon with a sad expression. She led him away, desiring a quiet goodbye.  

“You have keen senses, Imp.” Lullaby said as she overlooked the rest wander off to go get their stuff.  

“Why Imp?” Wild got up as well. Twilight kept following him.   

The princess laughed. “Multiple reasons, stinky hero.”  

Wild pouted. “This’s bullying.” He started petting Wolfie; it was an unconscious thing for Wild, natural. But Twilight’s heart stopped for a second, warmth filling it when it started beating again.   

It would be okay! Everything would be okay!  

“You have no one to tell me on.” Lullaby smirked mischievously. “The perks of being royal.”  

“I can tell Hylia.” Wild quipped back. As if he couldn’t be punished for talking back to royalty.  

But no matter how shortly the princess had known Wild, she seemed to accept his rudeness. Seemed to enjoy it even. “She may try to punish me; it can’t get worse than the dreams.”  

The cub hummed, and silence followed. It was comfortable and peaceful. The calm after the storm, and Twilight enjoyed it very much.  

Head scratches and pleasant company? Where could he sign up for more?  

“The portal is almost at its end.” Sky had his bags thrown over his shoulder.  

“Everyone! Team up!”  

Warriors came up the three of them. “Twi, ‘got your stuff.” He showed off Twilight’s ragged old bag. “You two coming?”  

Wild nodded and let his hand fall from Wolfie’s head. He missed the pressure and warmth already. “Goodbye, Lullaby.”  

“May you have a safe journey.” She smiled. “Next time I’d rather see you without blood stuck in your hair.”  

She got a hearty laugh from Wild in return. “I’ll try!”   

The portal was, as ever, deeply unpleasant. Like an ocean churning and storming. It was a feeling that Twilight would never get used to, and his wolf form made it an even odder experience. His senses were overwhelmed and drowned out. But as he got thrown out of the ocean of black-purple nothingness, he landed safely on his four paws. His smell and sight were muffled, but he didn’t feel sick. Which was the most pleasant part of being Wolfie when portalling.  

“Zelda?”   

Wild’s voice made Twilight look up, trying to focus on whatever he was supposed to be seeing. Why was Wild’s smell so overwhelming all of a sudden?  

“Hylia damnit,” Legend cursed.  

Black grass was the first thing Twilight could start making out. It was shiny as if wet. And it reeked of death and malice; it was a scent he knew, but from where?  

“Link-” A fragile voice that refused to be singular rang out over the battlefield. And it hit Twilight then all at once. The grass was black with monster's blood. A lot of it.  

And there in the middle of a carnage of dissolving corpses sat Wild’s Zelda. The cub ran to her, not fazed by her appearance. She held out her arms, welcoming Wild in her longer-than-normal arms. The spikes on them seemingly moving out of the way so as not to hurt him. Her tail circled around Wild, making their hug tight, protecting them from harm. The horns on her head changed from a cage to the more subdued version they had seen last time. She was crying out Wild’s name, asking him if he was real.   

Wild told her he was as he wiped away her golden tears.   

"Link, you’ve woken up!” Zelda cried.   

Wild pulled away from her a little, his posture tense. “What?”  

She smiled. “May I ask... Do you really remember me?”  

Chapter Text

The portal spat them out as if they were poison. Link stumbled out of it, almost tipping over. He didn’t get sick of it like the others, but that didn’t take the inconvenience away from being dropped into another era. It always let them out just a tad bit too high! Link wasn’t even the smallest in the group, so he didn’t know what Hylia was thinking.   

Next to him, Four was falling; Link just about managed to catch him. See, Hylia! This is why the portal should be ground level! Link thought annoyed. The goddess should take note of Purah and Robby’s teleportation techniques. She could learn a thing or two! 

“Gross.” Four muttered as Link helped him safely on the ground.  

The... blood-soaked ground. Quickly, Link looked up. Heart racing. Who was injured? Did they need help? Did he have enough weapons? He had been running out of them, and he hadn’t gotten the chance to go buy some in Time’s era. Oh Hylia, his arrows were almost out as well – corpses. Three of them. Lynel. It was their blood, black and sticky, that was coating the grass. And in the middle sat the piece of his heart he’d been missing.  

Zelda.  

His Zelda. 

Link’s heart ached, she was beautiful. Haunted. The dress she was wearing was the only royal dress she had remaining. It was purple with beautiful golden detailing, telling the story of their first journey. Paya had made it with the help of Impa. They thought it was important for Zelda to have at least one ceremonial gown; proof of who she had been and who she was now. The beautiful dress was now ripped to shreds. Her scale covered skin exposed to the chilly air. Her golden hair, long and in need of a deep wash, cascaded down her shoulder like a waterfall.  

He had to fight the tightness of his throat and the quickened pace of his heart. She was real. His Zelda, real and there and- his breathing shook and shivered. Link was scared. She looked fragile under the heaviness of her horns. Misshapen and sharp, incasing her head and shoulders as if they were armor. Her eyes downcast; gazing at her blood covered hands.  

The way she sat there reminded Link of the day after he got her back. 

“Zelda?” Link forced, ignoring the terror that gripped his heart.  

Her entire body twitched at his voice, as if shaken awake. Looking up at him, her eyes were glowing purple and green. “Link?”  

Her voice was multiplied, not entirely her own. But she was his Zelda even when the look in her eyes made Link nervous. Scared and unsure, she gave him the courage to run. Faster than he’d ever run before. Because she was his Zelda, precious and darling. And she was sitting there, alone and bloody and there. In arm's reach, in his arms.  

“You’re here?” Zelda asked him, grasping his tunic, pulling it. “Link, that can’t be you.” 

“It’s me, Zelda.” Link ignored his hurting voice and the ugly rasp in it. “I’m here.” 

But she was shaking her head. Somehow her horns didn’t hit Link in the head. “But you can’t be real.” She was crying golden tears faster than Link could wipe away. 

“But I am real, Zelda, I am.” Link took her hand and laid it on his chest. The heart that Mipha kept beating strong and quick.  

Zelda looked up in their hug; her eyes widened, a smile on her face. “Link! You’ve woken up!” 

Ice washed over him. “What?” Link asked as he pulled away a bit, searching for a sign on Zelda’s face. Searching for the time period she was stuck in.  

To his utter horror, a bright smile overtook her face. "May I ask... Do you really remember me?” Zelda looked down at him. Eyes earnest and wide; full of hope. 

The same eyes that looked at him that day 5 years ago. Freshly free from her one-hundred-year prison. Finally, Zelda was free to live and enjoy all that the world could offer. And though Link’s lacking memories were hurtful to her, she thrived. 

A world free of evil. 

A world without the threat of Ganon. 

A world where Zelda and Link could live and be at peace. 

But it was not meant to be. And now, years later, another journey later, Zelda looked him in the eyes and asked once again. “Link... don’t you recognise me?” 

Two journeys have passed. Two journeys they have suffered, and still, Zelda had to suffer. Link caressed her face, holding it as if she were a treasure. “Zelda, of course I recognise you.” 

“But you were gone for so long! And you weren’t waking up-” Zelda held his wrists. Tears in her eyes. “For so long I had to watch and hope and then- Link. You didn’t know your own name. Link- my knight, my hero- you didn’t know your name!”  

Heart heavy in his chest, he watched her cry. The conversation didn’t go how it went last time; back then he had only some memories. Link hadn’t said 'of course' back then; hadn’t even said her name.  

“Wild,” Wind carefully dodged the monster guts, “is she... okay?” 

“Zelda,” Wild ignored Wind, she was the one who needed him right now, “I remember. My name is Link, I am the Hylian champion. And I remember what happened. I know how the others died. I know what you did, for the kingdom, for all of us.” 

“You... you do?” Zelda sniffled. “But the shrine. It wasn’t meant to-” 

Wild pulled Zelda towards him, back into the tight hug she had him in before. “The shrine did what it had to do.” He rocked her as she sobbed and thanked Hylia. Zelda’s grip on him was painful; her nails were too long and piercing. But Link didn’t care she was hurting him. The pain proved she was real and not yet another dream. His Zelda, precious and loving, in his arms.  

Hylia had finally listened to his prayers. 

“Do you remember me?” Link asked Zelda. “The real me?” 

She stilled in his arms and pulled back a bit. The wonderful thing that was her eyes, were trained on him.  “What?”  

“Your favourite flower is the Silent Princess. You cry at bad romance novels. Spring’s the season you like the best. You wanted to become a scientist, and Zelda, look at me.” Link took her hands in his and caressed her chafed knuckles. “You followed your dreams and studied under Purah and Robby. And it wasn’t enough for you, so you became a teacher.” 

“Me? A teacher?” Zelda smiled at the thought. “And you?” 

And Link? 

He was the one that Zelda greeted after those hundred years. Link held her hand as he introduced her to their unrecognisable Hyrule. Impa had thanked him when he escorted their beloved princess to Kakariko Village and asked him to remain at her side. And of course he did. Zelda was a part of his heart and soul, a being he couldn’t be without.  

So, when years passed by in the blink of an eye, Link was beside Zelda. For all her accomplishments, he was present. When she had nightmares, he was the one to hug her sorrows till they were something raw and tender. Softer and more manageable. Link was Zelda’s rock in strong waters and her mountain in vast wastelands.  

Link without Zelda was an almost impossible thought. But it wasn’t unheard of; he travelled without her. Learnt and explored on his own. He had his own relationships and their respective failures. Fell in love and lived.  

But then she became the dragon in his skies.  

And Link?  

He became a shell of himself.  

“I’m just Link.” He answered her, and he tried to smile as truthfully and warmly as he could. 

Something about the action spurred something within Zelda. The gloss in her eyes mostly cleared up. “You enjoy the sound of rain on leaves.” 

“I do.” Tears sprang to his eyes, and a pang of something so delightfully hurtful but sweet terrorised his heart. 

“You like sneaking into Gerudo Town, just as an excuse to dress up.” Zelda’s smile became something soft and fond. Her eyes ceased their glowing; instead, they filled with recognition and love. 

Link laughed; it was a wet laugh, as tears had sprung into his eyes and he refused to hold them in. He was holding his Zelda, and she recognised him. “Don’t pretend you don’t encourage me!”  

His sweet, sweet Zelda brushed away his tears. “You’re real.” She whispered. 

“I am.” 

“You came back to me.” Zelda’s voice trembled; her forgotten tears came back, but they were softer. More gentle. 

Link adored her so. “I always will.”  

Suddenly her smile tightened; her brow had a twitch in them. “Haven’t I told you before that you need to have more pride in yourself? Just Link, you said. Just Link!” Zelda poked his forehead. “You, my friend, will never be ‘just’ someone.” 

“I missed you.” Link whispered. 

It made Zelda’s ire cool down. “And I missed you.” 

“This’s sweet and all, but yall gotta stop ignoring us.” Legend said in his usual tone and Link didn’t need to look back to know the hero was crossing his arms.  

“Leg!” Hyrule hissed. “Shut up!” 

“It’s alright.” Zelda sighed as she released Link from their weirdly positioned hug. “It’s been a while, heroes.” 

Wind, who had been hovering very closely the entire time, fidgeted with his hands. “Uhm, pr’nc’ss? Can I...” He opened his arms while a terrible blush spread across his cheeks and neck. He couldn’t even muster up the words. 

Zelda looked slightly confused, but she wasn’t someone who would reject a kid or teen. So, she smiled and opened her arms, giving permission to the teen. Wind took the chance greedily and threw himself at not only Zelda but also Link. Squeezing them as hard as he could. Which wasn’t terribly hard at all.  

“Hello to you too, Wind.” Zelda patted the teen’s head. “Were you worried?” 

He nodded and didn’t dare to look either of them in the eyes. The action made Zelda look at Link with concern and questions in her eyes. 

“A lot has happened.” Link answered. 

“Right...” The concern on her face deepened and etched itself on her forehead. “All of you will have to catch me up.”  

Warriors saluted. “Of course, your highness.” 

“Zelda, you need rest.” Link saw the bags under her eyes, and by the look of them, she hadn’t slept properly in a long time. “We can talk later.” 

But she shook her head. “In your absence, monsters have taken advantage. There is no time for rest.” Zelda absentmindedly played with Wind’s hair, a nervous gesture. “Sidon has asked for your help.” 

“That bad, huh?” Link closed his eyes; he felt a headache come up from all the tears and stress. Damn Hylia. After the marriage between Sidon and Yona, they hadn’t dared to ask Link’s presence at all. He had better things to do, they said. But now, the goddess had pulled him away, and monsters had gotten so bad, even they wanted his help again. “Three lynel?” 

“Three groups of lynel.” Zelda grimaced. “I destroyed two of them; the largest remains. Four of them, all equipped with electrical arrows. The Zora can’t risk getting into confrontation with them.” 

“A smart bunch, aren’t they?” Warriors murmured as he stood above a disappearing Lynel corpse. “I have to admit, groups of Lynel do not sound ideal.” 

Not ideal. That was one way to put it. Link was gone for how long? And the monsters in his era decided it was high time to start organising more. Make the solitary monsters' group up. Use the knowledge they have been amassing over the last hundred years, while he was dead to the world. Every time Link thinks it all may get better, every time he gets his hopes up.  

“Where?” 

Zelda laid her hand on Link’s. “Inigo Bridge.” 

The entrance to the Zora valley. Link finally opened his eyes; Zelda’s face filled his vision. It was natural, seeing her in his moments of anguish. Hearing her voice when all seems muddled. And here they were again. 

“Remember that one time,” Link whispered and he did not care if any of the others heard, “we got attacked by a horde of monsters. We were alone.” 

She grimaced. “There were lynel back then too. What are you thinking?” 

“Nothing good.” Time said. “Wild, we have yer back.” 

Link sighed, he felt the disappointed look of the hero of time burn on the top of his head. He could do it. Teleport to the Maoikes Shrine, don the thunder helm and take the four beasts on. All on his own, as he has always done so before. He wasn’t weak and he didn’t need help. 

Wolfie whined and pushed his head to Link’s shoulder. 

The others would hold him back. They didn’t have thunder helms. Didn’t know what spots on the Inigo Bridge were extras slippery and what mosaic was slightly higher than the rest of the bridge. The land before wasn’t the safest either, rocky and muddy. Warriors and Time’s armour was too heavy, Hyrule’s clothing soaked up water too easily, and Four was too light for the strong winds. They weren’t made for Lanayru terrain. Protecting and safeguarding them would put them all in more danger than needed. 

“Soldier, think practical.” Warrior had a stern look on his face. “I see that fear.” 

Hyrule settled down next to him. “C’mon, Wild.”  

Zelda’s clear, bright eyes on him. She had no expectations for him, not as his soul-sharers had. But she had hope for him. Her smile for him was encouragement, a push in the back and also a hand to hold. He found bravery in her presence and the will to try in her touch. 

Time apparently decided he had been staring at Link’s back for too long and went to stand to the side. His eye trained on him, always. “Your era, your decisions.” He said. 

Link let go of Zelda, raised his hands, and with a final leap and that pang of fear that Warriors had seen, signed. “We go down the mountain, rest up, make up a plan.”  

“And attack?” Wind asked cheerfully. 

“First, we get the right equipment.” Link chuckled. “You lot would die so quickly.”  

“Alright then,” Time smiled, a small thing, and held out his hand, “then lead us down the mountain, Wild.” 

Link looked at the outstretched hand and wondered. Where would he be if Time had said those words all those weeks ago? How would he have fared with this group if he had gotten the trust they had promised? Would he have been happier? Less ripped apart? 

Who would he have been by now? Just Link? Or would he have been Wild? 

The what-ifs that have been plaguing him since the moment he woke up were ultimately useless. The truth was that Link was sitting on a mountain, amongst so many versions of his own soul. A remnant of who he once was; a shadow of who he could’ve been.  

Just a Link, taking the hand of another Link. Two beings of hurt and sacrifice, a past full of opposition, and yet now, there was amicability. 

Zelda patted his back when he got up. “Let’s go see Sidon.” 

Chapter Text

Lonely, she stood high and mighty. A trident loosely in her hands, pointing down at the waves made of stone and crystals. Her eyes kind but unseeing, forever staring down onto her people. Before, she had been among them, but she preferred the mountain. Though she saw less of her loved ones, it was easier to ignore the hurt of only listening. Split between her people and her love, invisible for the living and an announcement of death for those who saw her. Mipha was so very alone.  

Yet, she walked beside her Link. Saw what he saw, felt what he felt. Next to him, she grieved, and she laughed, and she lived. The times she had been young and life was so very exciting, not so distant anymore. The despair that had gripped her very being when she perished, always hanging onto her with heavy shackles.   

Mipha missed the way her lungs used to fill with air.   

Mipha thanked Hylia for letting her spirit linger each time that Link died.   

Mipha mourned the lost childhood of Sidon and the doomed relationship between Link and him. Awkward as it was for her. 

Mipha celebrated the lives Link and Zelda had found. The way they had grown and flourished underneath the bare skies, lacking the system that held them down those hundred years ago.   

She was a being of contradictions, as all living and dead beings were. Her very essence was supposed to be long gone, just as the other champions had left. Only the shadows of her power were supposed to be with Link. Instead of healing death, easing the pain of a burn, that was supposed to be all of what she remained. And yet.   

Link and Zelda were together again; Mipha tried to touch their cheeks. Her claws only passed through. Oh, how did her heart, of nothing but air, hurt. Her friends, the ones she loved so dearly, she could not reach them, unless in death.   

The mountains surrounding the Zora Domain were familiar to her, so much so that she could swear to still feel the slippery rocks beneath her feet. The way the cold and damp soothed her body. Mipha, also, remembered the dangers and could recognise the doom it could mean for the ill-equipped group of heroes. A selfish part of her, so very tiny that most did not even know she had it, wished that her Link and Zelda would abandon the heroes of foolishness. Both of them could descend the mountain in much safer manners. But they were kind, otherwise she would not have loved them so.   

So, they scaled the mountain, slowly and carefully. Mipha pretended to halt her breath at every particularly dangerous part. And left out a non-existent sigh of relief when they passed it by safely.   

“Link.” Zelda brushed against Link’s shoulder. “You lost weight.”   

Link simply nodded in agreement, and Mipha tried to stop them in their tracks. With her arms wide open, she wanted to catch them. But, as always, they simply passed through her. And Mipha did not get the chance to tell Zelda about the suffering their Link had gone through. The way he reverted back to eating food, just to survive, instead of enjoying every taste to the fullest.   

“Have you faced much danger?” Zelda asked.  

‘Link died.’ Mipha responded.  

But she was nothing but air, so her words disappeared in the harsh winds of the mountain and got carried away on the wings of a falcon.   

“Not too much.” Link said instead, and he averted his eyes. Pretended to look over his companions. But neither Mipha nor Zelda fell for his tricks; they knew him too well.   

Grief seeped into the edges of Zelda; her supernatural body shaped itself to her emotions. She had become a wonder and a mystery that the Hylians were still trying to decipher after her sacrifice. But Mipha saw and knew how the magic in Zelda worked. It clung to her like a child hanging onto its mother. Upset and greedy. Responding to her emotions and whims with violence towards everything around her. When Zelda lost who she was, her magic would panic and try to protect her. Her horns would become a shield and her nails, weapons. It was effective and yet counterintuitive, for she became a shield even for those who could help her. Except Link. More so, the magic-still-a-child would only accept Link. It recognised his soul and its ancient magic.  

Sometimes, when Mipha came close, the magic of both Link and Zelda seemed to reach out to her. But that could not actually be; it was simply the desperation of a spirit, all alone for so very long. The moments of companionship were only reminders of the harsh life her most beloved lived. They were not worth him dying. Mipha would rather be alone for eternity than to spend a minute with Link because he died too young, too early, and too unwillingly.   

Link wandered away from Zelda, his eyes focused on the hero of Four Swords. The hero was on the smaller side and had little weight to hold them steady through the harsh winds.  

“Four.” Link had slid to the hero. They were not yet climbing down a steep cliff, but the ground was getting steeper and the grass was slick with dew. “You holdin’ up?” He asked Four, voice rough from overuse. Mipha tried again to ease the hurt on his vocal cords. But her efforts would always be in vain.   

Four watched Link for a long while; the small hero did so often. The colours of their magic mixing and arguing as they did so. The small hero was an odd one, fighting within themself, quite literally, so. But they were not unkind, if a bit distant.   

The silence stretched, and her Link just kept watching Four back. Eyes inquisitive, mind wandering. Link had never been comfortable with silent people who simply watched him. He did it to others plenty; it was taught behaviour. Observe and disappear into the shadows, always two steps behind of those whom he guarded. He wasn’t meant to be perceived, and even after those hundred years, the instinct to disappear kept stubbornly stuck in his being.  

“M’key.” Four finally answered. Their answer lacklustre and not entirely the truth; the colours not mixed at all.   

Link frowned down at Four, the slightest of pouts on his lips. Mipha smiled. At moments like these she was reminded of Link, just barely eight years old and so new to the world. Zora Domain a marvel to him, and adults the biggest mystery of all. They held secrets about him, large prophecies that would end his life. But Link knew none of that; he simply saw their eyes. Troubled and sad and full of conflict. They were about to start training a kid, too young for the destiny on his shoulders. Link’s eyes still bright, his tongue still used to enquire. He did not yet hide away, could still hold himself without the weight of the world. Mipha could still so clearly remember the clear blue of his eyes. The innocence and the youth, qualities he lost so very quickly.   

But as he looked down at Four she saw hints of it, and it overjoyed her so. Her Link, not afraid to question and watch. His eyes blue and clear. Mipha mourned the fact that Link had to die first before he could escape just the tiniest bit out of the royal grasp on his psyche. But she could cry in relief, looking at him now.  

“Wild, yer clothes. They enchanted?” Four asked suddenly, their magic mostly red.   

The smile that overtook Link’s face was blinding and genuine. “You noticed?” He asked as he fidgeted with the climbing gear on his pants.   

“Ye did it yerself?” Four’s eyes were on the same gear that Link was fidgeting with. Their magic leaning forward, itching to grab the blessed clothing, desire to take it apart and study it.   

‘Legend and Four, both are interested in your clothing.’ Mipha let her hand hover on top of Link’s shoulder. She pretended that they could touch. ‘Take the chance, Link.’  

Link shook his head. “Oh, no.” The no was barely audible with the cracking of his voice and the howls of angry winds. He should stop using his voice, Mipha thought.   

"Sign,” Four quickly intercepted Wild when it looked like he was about to continue talking, “if you want. Of course.”   

She was not alone in her worries for Link anymore, it seemed. She wavered with her relief. Mipha searched around for the faces she had become familiar with. Her Zelda and the heroes that finally stopped to listen and think.   

The hero of Twilight, still grieving a death that, for all he knew about, didn’t happen. Stuck in his wolf form, watching Link, always. And the hero of Winds, hanging back in the group, was uncharacteristically quiet and clingy to Zelda. Both of them struck silent by what had happened; stuck in a space of what-ifs.  

Legend and Hyrule were whispering, faces grim and tight. Mipha shifted closer to them, curious about the heroes covered in controlled magic and reassured that she could leave her Link behind with a concerned Four.   

“Rulie, stop it.” The hero of Legends grumbled as he ducked underneath a heavy branch. “He lived; accept it.”  

Oh? They were talking about Link. Mipha pretended to walk among them, as if they could gossip together. ‘And didn’t I do a marvellous job? It barely scarred!’   

“I ‘ave! But Leg, ya can’t ‘gnore it’s weird.” Hyrule look down at his hands. “Have ye ever ‘eard of a healer with such power?”  

Legend didn’t respond immediately; doubt and a nervousness that was uncharacteristic of him painted on his face. He refused to look at Hyrule, couldn’t show how he agreed. It would be an admission of something impossible and grand.   

“Them wounds- nothin' but a goddess given miracle would close them so.” The fae grasped Legend’s arm. “Ye know well ‘nough.”  

“Miracles don’t happen.” Legend sighed. 

Mipha would not be held a secret, not for long. She had known that since they met the heroes. Yet, Link had thought he would manage it. Not die, not once, and Her Grace would never even come into play. But he was too good, too sacrificial, and he ended up in the dream space she created for him. Axe in his chest and relief in his eyes, Link had saved yet another soul. He hadn’t thought about the secret he kept so close to his heart. And now his comrades were questioning his survival.   

‘Miracles don’t happen, but I do.’ She told the heroes. ‘Please don’t dig too deep, not yet. He is not ready yet.’  

“And what’f it was a miracle?” Legend grumbled. “He’s with us.”  

Sweet sweet Legend, betraying all he believed about fate and miracles, just to keep his relief pure. She walked beside him and watched him fight his internal battle. Magic was strange like that, difficult to see when alive. But her death, funnily enough, opened her eyes. Magic coated its origin, lived and breathed alongside it. It was a physical representation of health, emotions, thoughts... it revealed much. Four and his battle of four within. Twilight’s magic, close to his body as if to protect him from the grief. Hyrule and his flittery magic, nervous and always on high alert. Legend fighting his disdain for all higher up.  

Hyrule threw his arms in the air. “Leg?! Ya can’t actually believe-”  

“’Course I don’t!” Legend interrupted Hyrule as he turned around to the fae, eyes wild. “But Rulie- Are ya willin’ to question it? ‘Cause if ya are, then go.” He pointed to where Link was helping Sky on a particularly bad rock. “He’s alive! Alive and here! Walkin’ as if nothin’ happened!” He hushed, insanity seeping into his voice at the end.   

“Yer fine with this? Pretendin’ nothin’ weird went on?” Hyrule asked, eyes wide.   

“I am. He’ll tell us himself, when he’s ready.” Legend responded, steadfast.  

But Mipha wasn’t so sure of that. They had not yet realised to what extent Link would go to protect the people around him. It did not stop with the physical. He would keep Mipha secret, just to keep them safe from the emotional baggage that was her power. He’d pretend he was just like them, a hero still on his first chance. Not the being of rebirth that he actually was.  

For them he would act as if he were untouched by death.  

Mipha didn’t want to hear more of their conversation. It was sweet to wait for her Link, he deserved that patience. But she knew him, perhaps too well. It saddened her to realise that if the heroes truly were to wait from now on, Link would let them wait forever. Sure, he’d probably show his beautiful personality. The mischievous side he was keeping mostly under wraps. His love for all that is food and drink. But his hurts?  

She watched how Link massaged his right bicep. He hadn’t cared for his amputated arm properly since joining the heroes of old. The arm of metal was supposed to be taken off every night, preferably even more than that. The fresh stump needed to be massaged, and Link was told by Purah to check up on it often.  

Soreness overtook his right side.  

Mipha couldn’t do anything to help. 

‘Zelda. Make him take it off. Tell the heroes that he should follow his care plan.’ Mipha pushed against the large magic of Zelda. Attempted to make it notice her, just the tiniest bit. But it just rippled underneath her touch, reminiscent of the gentle current of a pond. It was all that Mipha would ever be able to do now.  

Keep Link alive if he wished to stay so. And make the tiniest of ripples, not even waves.  

Never again, waves. 

Her jewellery got entangled around a thorny and leafless branch. Mipha looked down bewildered; she wasn’t able to get stuck on things. She tried to pull and twist, but it didn’t budge.  

‘Wait!’ She called to the group of heroes. ‘I’m still here! Don’t leave me behind!’ Somewhere in her panic she forgot she was attached to two axes. She had been attached to Link alone for so long already, after all.  

The mountain grew colder; the lack of heroes with oppressive magic surrounding her was disorientating. She hadn’t been truly alone since Link released her from her titan-made prison.  

She was stuck.  

She hadn’t been stuck since- 

“Mipha.”  

Her name- she looked up and searched around. Someone was calling for her.  

“What do I do?”  

Her jewellery passed through the branch, as it was supposed to do so before. She was free once again to roam and follow her beloved. But the voice had created an anchor deep inside her spirit, and she could not go down the mountain anymore. Instead, she saw a beacon of bright blue light on the highest point of the highest mountain.  

She closed her eyes and imagined the view. Blue skies as far as you can see. The sound of gentle water, music to the ear. The light splatter of frogs and fish alike, thriving in the clean water of the spring. Her statue, catching the sun and moonlight alike.  

“Yona and I... we had a disagreement.” The gentle voice of her brother blessed her ears.  

‘So it was you, getting me caught.’ Mipha opened her eyes to see her little brother kneeling before her statue. She went to go sit beside him, anchored to the top of the mountain, for now. ‘Tell me more, of the disagreement.’ 

“We have lost our way. I want to go fight for our land, but Yona says my safety is more important. That I should not try to take on what I cannot handle.” Sidon stared up to Mipha’s stone-made face, gentle looking. Without judgement. 

But Mipha was not without judgement. She had lived too long, had seen Link and Sidon do too many dangerous shenanigans. So, for all that she had patience, she also had judgement. Her brother did not know if such, though. Sidon did not even know of her lingering spirit or her ability.  

‘Yona is smart, lily pad. I am sure she had her reasons.’ Mipha tried. 

“I cannot bear to send out my allies alone for a fight on my own mountains.” He continued, frustration in his voice. “And no matter what merit her arguments hold. It holds only shame to continue doing so. I will not stand by as the princess fights on her own.” 

But she wasn’t on her own anymore; Mipha wanted to tell him. Zelda and Link had reunited. Sidon’s beloved Link was currently on his very own mountains, and he didn’t realise it. But that was not all she was frowning about.  

‘Sidon, I have seen the arrows of lightning those Lynel held. It is not that Yona does not want you to fight, it is that she does not want you to die.’ Mipha went to stand up in her worry and anger. ‘You fool. I was blindsided and ambushed by electricity. But you would seek it out willingly?’  

“She says we should call upon Link, when he is back.” Sidon deflated even more. His red colour dulled with emotions. “Yona believes he will understand.” 

She could barely believe her ears. ‘Of course you should summon him! You have monsters on your borders and feelings clouding your judgement!’ Mipha started pacing around him. ‘Hylia blessed you with a smart wife.’ 

“Mipha, I don’t know what to do.” Sidon fully bowed down, voice slight. “I am scared, sister. And I am alone in my fear.” 

The words struck her more than anything physical ever could. Her brother, bowing down to his dead sister. He was just a little fish when she died. Mother and sister gone, the Hyrule Royal Lineage uprooted after millennia of ruling. Sidon was left alone with a grieving people, stuck in the past. Their father kind but ever mourning.  

He did not even know she could hear him.  

Sidon did not know he wasn’t alone.  

Mipha hugged him, tears streaming down her face. ‘I am sorry. I have left you behind.’  

She had sacrificed her life willingly, had chosen to be a champion for the honour and safety of her people. But she had not realised what scars her death would leave behind. The blame for her death was put on Link, while he was a victim just as much.  

She left behind a legacy she didn’t endorse. Put pressure on Sidon he didn’t deserve. And all Mipha could do was watch. She could not even make a wave.  

‘Sidon, Sidon- my sweet lily pad.’ Mipha wanted to wipe away the sorrow on his face, but her hand couldn’t make contact. She was forever stuck away from him. Cursed to be just a statue to him. ‘You are loved and you are adored. Life might be scary right now, and it will continue to be so for some time. But you have a fire in you, my sweet Sidon. Don’t you lose that fire; it gives so much love for the people around you.’ She put her hand where his heart was and felt how it beat. Strong and warm. It was a heart meant to be shared, the right heart for a king and husband. 

“What do I do?” Sidon begged. “I don’t know what is right and wrong anymore.” 

Mipha tried to dry her tears and begged Hylia to let him hear her. If not her words, her feelings, anything. For she was his big sister and he was her little brother that needed guidance. And if fate had her die young and made her brother grieve a sister, she was owed this one thing. Just one moment of sisterly advice.  

‘Go down the mountain.’ Sunlight bore down on her statue. ‘Remember your soul and heart. And when you do, follow what they tell you. For the answer lies in you, already.’ 

“Mipha-” Sidon’s eyes filled with tears as he watched the statue glow with light. “Oh Mipha, thank you.” 

But Mipha wasn’t standing in front of the statue. She wasn’t even close to Sidon’s line of vision. It was not she who he was looking at. She was not stone and crystal; Mipha was air and nothing. A whisper you misheard and the shadow in the corner of your eye that you imagined. 

Yet, Sidon found heart in her statue, and she did not know what he heard. Hylia was kind to give Sidon some kind of sign. But she was limited in her reach.  

So, with a heavy heart, Mipha watched Sidon leave her court of nothing but the sky and birds.

And she wondered, would she ever be fully free from the shackles she willingly put on every day?

Chapter Text

The last time Link visited the Zora palace, it was because of a wedding.  

He stood next to the groom, in his royal guard costume; he was not simply a guest, he was the Hylian Royal representative. Zelda had been gone for two years by then. Link had managed to free the Zora and Rito from their tormenters by then. And somehow, he had managed to see his love marry another, as well. Before that, Link used to love the palace. Its bridges were instruments as well as pieces of art. The blue crystals were now again blinding in their beauty after all the mud got washed off.  

Since the wedding, Link had sent his messengers only to the Zora Domain. He did not dare to see it for himself, not if they didn’t need him. And it didn’t seem they did. For neither Sidon nor Yona called for him in the last years, after the wedding. Only when it was time for them to fight Ganon did Link see Sidon again.  

Only when the leaders of the lands got together to discuss trade and worries did Link see Sidon from afar. 

And only when Hylia called on Link again, for the third time, did Link seek Sidon out himself. And only because Link wanted to make sure to leave with no regrets. Just to be sure, in case he didn’t come back. 

He didn’t blame Yona. Didn’t even blame Sidon. But that didn’t lessen the hurt that had burrowed its way deep into his heart, so much so that it had become an old and distant grief. One that you could almost forget existed. Almost. 

Link stared up at the shining palace, the other heroes loud and excited about it, and felt the urge to cry. It had been so long. It had become unfamiliar and stayed too familiar at the same time. Link had spent so much time here that it had become a second home, a place he was always welcome at. And yet, now, Link felt like an imposter.  

“Master Link! Princess Zelda!” Dumna abandoned her guard post in favour of greeting them. “You’re back!” 

“On guard duty, today?” Link asked her before she could tackle him into a hug. 

Zelda gave Link a dirty look before she opened her arms wide. “Dumna, darling. Long time no see.” 

“Sorry to have missed you earlier! And yes, sir, yes!” She grinned at Link after letting go of Zelda. “Oh, dad will be so relieved to see your face! You should visit him more; he ain’t getting any younger, you know.” 

Link rolled his eyes at her. “Rivan is far going to outlive me. But I’m glad to hear I’ve been missed.” 

“Of course you are! You must know how sad everyone is because you don’t show up to the rain festivals anymore.” Dunma whispered the last part, looking around as if anyone would jump her for telling on their big secret. But it was no big secret; the members of the Big Bad Bazz Brigade had all sent him plenty of letters since the wedding.  

“I shall try to make it to the next one.” Link patted her arm; lies were so much easier to tell in sign. “Now, we have to get going.” 

It was only then that Dunma had realised that they had visitors, and plenty at that. Her yellow eyes widened at the eight heroes behind Zelda and Link. “Yes, of course. The King has gone out to visit the lady Mipha. But the Queen is in the throne room.” 

Zelda smiled softly at the Zora. “Thank you, dear. Tell Rivan that if we don’t see him today, we will visit, soon.” 

They barely waited for confirmation to start walking again, leaving the curious Dunma behind them. The crystals underneath their feet made a cacophony of notes; its music was disconnected and chaotic. Link sighed.  

“I need to stock up on arrows.” Link told Zelda. “As in... all of them.” 

Zelda laughed, a bell-like sound. “I’m sure the fletchers of the lands missed your business!”  

“And I missed them.” He chuckled, just to let his smile fall just as quickly. He stopped just before the grand staircases and turned around. “We are going to meet the Queen and probably the King. Address them as such, unless asked otherwise.” 

“We know ‘ow ta deal with royalty.” Legend quipped. “No need fo’ this.” 

Zelda, however, shook her head. “I ask you not to assume all our royalty is the same as yours. All lands have their respective head families, but not all are actual royalty. Nor would they be appreciated to be called so. Still, in all effect, they have the same function.” 

“I imagine Riju would never stop making fun of you if you’d call her queen.” Link grinned at the thought and enjoyed the laughter it got out of Zelda. “Now, where were we? Ah yes, be polite but not overly so. Don’t treat them as high and mighty, but don’t be too familiar.”  

“Sounds tricky.” Warriors hummed. “Anything that is always safe to do?” 

“You can always just stay quiet.” Zelda shrugged. 

“Yeah Wars, shut up!” Wind grinned largely. “Don’t want ta insult yer precious royals!” 

Something soft overcame Link as he watched Warriors go after a cackling Wind. It was a pleasant warmth in his belly and a calmness over his mind. It shouldn’t be happening, not through the chaos that was Sky trying to come between the two wrestling heroes and Legend cheering it on. They were all over the place and starting to attract attention from passing-by Zora and the occasional tourist.  

“You’re growing fond of them.” Zelda leaned into Link, warmth radiating off her. “I’m glad.” 

“I’m tired, Zelda.” He took her hand into his. “So very tired.” 

Zelda hummed but let silence overtake them as they witnessed heroes of old making fools of themselves. It was nice, Link thought, the quiet he shared with her. So many feelings and worries hung between the two of them that it became difficult to actually translate them into words. He missed her terribly, worried for her health always, wished he could spend his days with her – all that and so much more. But he knew that Zelda already knew all that and more than he himself knew. She was Link’s best friend. 

Yet he couldn’t fathom telling her about the past weeks. The loneliness that stuck to his very being, the pain of being away from his era, and the otherness he experienced among the heroes of old. Zelda would listen and understand to such an extent that it made Link keep quiet. He didn’t want her to suffer alongside him, didn’t want Zelda to despair because of his hardships. Wouldn’t want her hate towards Hylia and all that was divine to grow even larger. Not for him. And not ever again because of him. 

“I wondered who’d make cause for such excitement.” A gentle voice rang over the courtyard. Link closed his eyes and tried to ready his heart. “It turns out to be you, our dear Master Link.”  

Link forced a happy smile on his face, opened his eyes and turned around. Having to let go of Zelda’s hand in the process and already missing her presence. “Yona.” He looked up at her, green and oh-so-gentle. 

Behind him, the heroes had stopped bickering and doing Hylia knows what. Thank the gods, they kept quiet as Yona started descending the stairs.  

“And Princess Zelda, I am much relieved to see you safe and sound.” Yona reached for Zelda’s hands and squeezed them, kindness in everything she did.  

“Of course.” Zelda smiled. “I have learnt some tricks over the years; some monsters won’t deliver me to Hylia herself.” 

As if the very idea itself was a shock to Yona, she gasped. “I may only hope Hylia keeps her hands to herself for a long while yet.”  

“Pray that it may be.” Zelda agreed. 

“And you,” Yona let go of Zelda and addressed Link, “oh, how glad I am to see you, alive and well.” She fidgeted with her hands, not sure what to do. She couldn’t grasp Link’s hands like she did with Zelda’s, could she? No, Link wouldn’t like it, and she knew that. She was smart like that, sensible. 

But Link didn’t know how to deal with sensible. Then again, he also didn’t know how to deal with the insensible. Maybe Link didn’t know how to deal with anything. 

“How have you been?” Yona asked. 

“Busy.” Link cringed at his own rudeness. “You?” 

If the queen had any qualms about the way Link was talking to her, she didn’t show it. Yona kept her easy smile and kindness on her face. “Worried about you and my husband, mostly.” 

Huh. 

“You must know, I haven’t spoken to Sidon since the last Meeting of the Lands and of course, the evening before I left on my new mission, but that almost doesn’t count and – Yona, I assure you – there is nothing to be worried about –” 

“Link, stop, please.” Zelda took his hands and forced him to stop signing. 

His heart was beating too quickly, Link realised, as if he was fighting. But no monsters surrounded them; it was just Yona. Yona, with her sad smile and her kind eyes that were filled with pity. But he wasn’t one to pity. Why would she pity him? 

“Master Link, are you staying for a while? I know Sidon would love to see you.” Yona clasped her hands, as if in prayer.  

“I-” Link lightly pulled his hands out of Zelda’s grip so he could sign again. “My companions will stay here until we’ve gathered enough supplies to take on the large group of Lynell.” He gestured to the heroes behind him. 

“Oh, how rude of me!” Yona exclaimed. “You must be the heroes of old! I am Queen Yona, but you may simply call me Yona.” 

The heroes looked surprised that the attention suddenly shifted towards them; not even mouthy Legend had a response ready. It was Time and Warriors who both stepped forward at the same time. 

“I am Time.” He introduced himself with a slight bow.  

“And I!” Warriors took a step forward, his voice loud. “Am Warriors, captain of the Hyrulian army, your majesty.” He knelt, a custom not strictly upheld since the inauguration of Sidon and Yona.  

“Now now, please get up. No need to be so formal.” Yona chuckled. “And you?” She gestured to the remaining heroes, who started to introduce themselves. 

Zelda took the chance to lean towards Link. “She didn’t mean to insinuate that Sidon and you were having an affair, just so you know.” 

“Good. Because we aren't.” Link huffed, arms crossed. 

Zelda smirked. “But she wouldn’t mind if you were.” 

“What?!”  

“I’m just saying.” Zelda shrugged and pretended to pay attention to the introductions of the heroes. 

Yona was having pleasant conversation with the lot of them, and Link couldn’t grasp why he felt so annoyed by it all. She was effortlessly nice and sweet and everything he was not. It was not an insecurity he was used to, feeling not-nice, because he was nice! Link got complimented as a nice boy by plenty of grandmas who tried to set him up with their grandchildren! But Yona... Yona was more than what grandmas loved. She was too nice. To such a level, even Zelda thought Yona would share her husband with Link?!  

Link didn’t know if he could do that.  

Link wasn’t as nice or good as Yona.  

“Time.” Link went up to the hero. “I’m going out to buy arrows and resources. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” 

For just a split second, it looked as if the hero of times was going to argue. But stopped himself. “Will ye take someone with ye?” 

He could. The teleportation runes could take travel with three people, but- “I’d rather not; I need some time to myself.” 

“I won’t pretend I like it, but do what you have to do.” Time smiled; it seemed a bit forced and unnatural. “Stay safe?” 

“I’ll try-” 

“Link!”  

Everyone turned to the voice, everyone except Link. He didn’t need to turn around to know who was calling to him. It was the voice of the one that got away and the voice that haunted his dreams and memories. Link could picture the large smile on Sidon’s face as he spoke Link’s name in a way no one else could. 

It hurt and Link couldn’t. He didn’t exactly know what he couldn’t do. He just knew, he couldn’t. 

“I’ll be back.” Link said to Time and with just a few taps on his Purah Pad, he was starting to dissolve. The last thing he heard before he got away was Sidon calling for him again, desperate. Loud and so very desperate. And Link just couldn’t. 

Salt filled the air; the wind was rather harsh, and the view of Hateno replaced the confused gaze of Time.  

Hylia damned. Link ran away again, didn’t he? 

He was supposed to be a hero of courage, and he just ran. As he always did, Link ran from his fears and emotions in his first life. And it seemed he never stopped doing that. Not even in his second life. It was his second chance, and he was wasting it.  

Link stared at the Purah Pad in his hand and wondered how mad Purah would be if he threw it against a wall. Without the bloody thing, he wouldn’t be able to get away as easily from his troubles. He’d be forced to actually face them – He sighed and tried to shake off the deep frustration he felt towards himself. He didn’t have time to stand around and sulk. So, Link turned around and opened the door to the Hateno Lab, no need to knock.  

The space hadn’t become less chaotic in the time Link had been away. But it didn’t become more chaotic, at the very least. Papers were thrown around, covering every inch on the tables and under them. The boards at the left side of the lab were filled with drawings of new ideas and possibilities.  

Robbie was nowhere to be seen, but Josha sat in a corner, leaning against the wall. Papers as high as her surrounded her.  

“Josha-” Link simply wanted to get her attention, but she made an eep sound at the sudden noise and threw the papers she had in her hands. “Sorry.” He cringed. 

“Sir Link!” Josha shouted. “You’re here?!”  

“I am?” 

She scrambled to get up from her cosy spot, tripping over her own feet multiple times. “Weren’t you gone?!” 

Link couldn’t help but laugh, even if it hurt his throat plenty. “You’re a dear, Josha.” 

“Thank you??” Josha looked even more panicked now. “But Sir Link! How are you here?” 

“Never mind that.” Link waved away her worries. “Where is Robbie?” 

“Why do you need Robbie for?” Josha abandoned her previous enquiries for the new lane they entered. “Maybe I can help?” 

Abandoning his painful voice, Link signed: “As you know, I am on a new journey for the Goddess.” Josha nodded excitedly. “And well. A lot of monsters are showing up, from different eras of time.” 

“Oh! How scary!” Josha was practically shaking in her sandals. “What do you want us to do? Bring back old backlogs of all monsters through the eras?! Oh! I’ll be on that immediately, Sir Link! Do you think they’ll let me enter the royal archives?? Or what's left of it anyway – oh dear! I can smell the old books already!” 

“Ancient arrows.” Link interrupted her with his cracking voice. “I need ancient arrows.” 

 “Oh...” Josha pouted at first, but quickly that turned into furrowed brows and a worried gaze. “You don’t think...” 

“I don’t know, Josha.”  

She gnawed at a fingernail. “Oh Hylia, I hope not. I’ll get Robbie back; he’s on a trip with Jerin. But this, this is more important. When do you need them?” 

“As soon as you can manage; I don’t know when Hylia will pull me away again.” The idea of leaving his era without special gear made him nervous; he had taken a huge risk before. And he paid with his life. If he had those arrows, he wouldn’t have died. And it would have been a hell of a lot easier to explain the fancy arrows than how he ‘recovered’ from his wounds. “Please, get all the arrows out of storage as well. I’ll pay, of course.” 

“The bomb arrows and such?” Josha frowned. “But didn’t you start using other materials?” 

Link looked at his metal arm; he didn’t know how potent Rauru’s powers would stay now that most of his arm was gone. And without those powers- “I’m not taking any risks.” 

“You worry me, Sir Link.” Josha suddenly looked so much older. Not the little kid he met all those years ago anymore. She was a young adult now, one that had seen too much already. 

"Oh dear, Josha." Link took her by the shoulders and whispered, "I'll keep on fighting, I promise." 

Josha didn’t respond; she simply watched him with sad eyes. It unsettled Link; there was nothing to be sad about. Nothing to be worried about.  

“I’ll be back.” Link signed before he quickly made his way over to the door. 

“Hey, sir Link.” Josha made Link stop in his tracks. “We- we as in the town- miss you. Always.”