Chapter Text
Link had been walking for an hour, and his paws were starting to ache.
Maybe if you hadn’t wasted time getting your beauty sleep in, this wouldn’t have happened, mind-Midna snarked, and he could imagine her leaning forward on his back to flick at his ears, unbothered by all the walking that she didn’t have to do.
He didn’t dignify his own subconscious with a response. His paws hurt, and he was starting to feel the sting of the Kargarok’s claw marks from when it had grabbed at his neck the other morning. He didn’t have time to argue with his own mind. He needed to find the group, and fast.
They’d clearly gotten up before the sun, and they could be who knows how far ahead of him now. He’d been walking for almost two hours, tracking their scent and hoping they hadn’t somehow warped to some other place without him, and by now the sun was getting too hot and his stomach was really starting to grumble.
Link continued along the trail, paws dragging, ears drooping, and hope slowly fading, until he heard a song.
Distant, but familiar. He raised his head and perked his ears, focusing. A soothing tune, one that reminded him of the song he always sang to Epona. His steps grew quicker, and he made out the shape of something in the distance. A tent?
A horse-shaped tent?
Before he knew it, his paws were moving faster and he was darting across the grass to the shape on the horizon. It got bigger and he could see that yes, it was a horse-shaped tent, with horses and people and cooking, which meant that there was a big chance his group was there, too. Two hours of walking, and finally he’d found them!
He skidded to a halt when he came near, his excitement stilling. The tent, while not filled with people, still had a good amount of Hylians meandering around. He didn’t know if he should get closer. He hadn’t had the best reactions towards this form in the past, and he didn’t want to cause any problems.
He padded over to a cluster of stabled horses attached to the side of the tent instead, making himself friendly and unthreatening in hopes not to scare them. Epona had never been afraid of him, but he wasn’t sure how these horses would react.
Luckily, they didn’t seem spooked as he approached, just curious.
New stable dog? A spotted one asked as he neared.
No, the second horse neighed before Link could respond, that’s a wolf.
New stable wolf, then?
All three horses whinnied with laughter.
I need help, Link interrupted. Have any of you seen a large group of Hylians come in somewhat recently? Seven people. One has markings on his face, another has a cloth around his shoulders. Ringing any bells?
The three horses swapped looks with one another until the second one who’d spoken gave a disinterested whinny and replied, lots of Hylians come in every day. If it’s not our rider, we don’t pay attention.
Link sighed. It seemed he would have to wait on the outside of the stable and watch to see if they left the tent. He turned to thank the horses anyway.
“Wolfie?”
Link glanced behind him, only to see someone staring straight at him, eyes wide and alarmed. A boy with a hood over his head, with a bow and arrow, shield, and sword strapped to his back.
The boy crouched down and grabbed Link’s face. “Wolfie!” He tried to pull back, but the boy was twisting his head from left to right, examining his face and ignoring Link’s attempts at escape. “Where have you been? We’ve been looking…everywhere…” he trailed off, a frown pulling at the shadowed corners of his lips from behind his hood, and from this close Link could see the scars on the side of the boy’s face and hands, stretching across soft skin and calloused hands. More scars than someone his age should have; scars that spoke of a horrible battle and even worse injuries.
“Is that Wolfie?” A new voice gasped, and a girl with an accent Link couldn’t place ran up from behind the boy, crouching in front of Link until there were two faces up in his. That was enough—he shook his head until the boy let go of him and he stepped back, growling. Enough touching was clearly understood.
“Why is he acting like that?” The girl asked. Her hair was blonde and cut into a bob, and weapons similar to the ones the boy had were strapped to her back. She didn’t have as many glaring scars as the hooded boy, but her hands did seem to have burn scars stretching out from her palms and the back of her hands in a way that drew Link’s eyes at the oddity of how they looked. And, at the back of her singed right hand, was the faint mark of the Triforce.
It was the same mark Link himself had on his paw, as faint and almost invisible as it had gotten since the end of his journey, and his head reeled as he looked, again, at her face. Only Zelda, him, and Ganondorf had parts of the Triforce. So how did this stranger—
“Do you know him?” A voice cut off Link’s rapid thoughts, and it took him a second to place it as Wars’. The two turned and stood as he approached.
“Yes,” the girl said, at the same time the boy went, “no.” They swapped a look and eventually the girl just shrugged. “Maybe.”
“I see. You can never be too sure.” Wars gave them a charming grin and laughed. “Pardon, I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Warriors—it’s a nickname,” he added at the faces they made. “You see, my traveling companions and I all share a name, so it’s easier to go by nicknames while we’re together.”
Huh. That would explain the strangeness of their names, and Link couldn’t help but wag his tail. If Wars—short for Warriors, it seemed—was here, then the rest of them would be, too. His relief was palpable.
“We thought that wolf right there was tracking us as we traveled, but if you know him, perhaps he was just on the way here. Either way, it’s good he didn’t turn out to be viscous. Right, boy?” Warriors grinned at him. Link stared flatly back.
The girl nodded understandingly. “My partner here went on a journey a while back, where he was accompanied by a wolf of striking similarity to this one. Yet he doesn’t seem to recognize us, and he does look a bit…younger. Perhaps we’re mistaken, although…” she glanced back at him. “They seem almost the same.”
The boy looked at him, too, with such heavy emotion in his eyes that Link felt bad for growling. Clearly, his wolf meant a lot to him, and he was upset that Link wasn’t who he wanted him to be.
“A journey, you say?” Warriors redirected their attention back to him. “What did you two say your names were?”
“My apologies. I’m Zelda, and this is my former and re-self appointed knight, Link.”
What.
Warriors’ eyebrows raised at that. “Interesting. Link happens to be my name, too.”
What.
Other-Link’s eyes narrowed. ‘So all your friends are named Link too?’ He signed, clearly done with speaking.
“Yes. Would you two mind coming with me? We might have something important to share with you.”
Other-Link and Other-Zelda glanced at each other, engaging in some sort of silent conversation. Link, on the other hand, was on his paws and eager to go the second the offer was made. An explanation was coming—an explanation for whatever weird time paradox he was in. Talk of different Hyrules? Nine Links? Another Zelda? A second Master Sword? All because he fell into some portal? He felt like he had all the pieces of a puzzle, but he didn’t know how to fit them together. Whatever Warriors wanted to say, Link wanted to hear.
“Alright,” Zelda agreed. “We’ll come. How about by the cooking pot? My Link here is quite the chef, I’m sure he could stir up some nice banana stew if you’d like.”
That certainly took Warriors a moment to process. “Banana stew?” He was clearly trying to find a way to take that in stride, and failing. “Uh…sure. I can’t say I’ve ever had that, but it certainly sounds…different.”
That answer seemed to please them, because the tension left both of their bodies and they both began to walk towards the pot. “I’m kidding,” Zelda called sweetly over her shoulder. “Banana stew is disgusting.”
Warriors watched them head off, dumbfounded. “What?”
Link didn’t respond, instead bounding after the pair and leaving Warriors to catch up.
Other-Link looked delighted to see him approach, and he grabbed a strange flat box thing from his Zelda’s hip, tapping at it. Link sprung back as an apple materialized the ground in front of him, and the two Hylains laughed at his shock.
“My Wolfie did the same thing,” Other-Link commented. Then, to Zelda, “do you think they could be the same, somehow?”
“Maybe,” she said, studying him as if he was a particularly interesting frog on the table for a dissection. Link focused on eating the apple. “Didn’t you say Wolfie liked pumpkin soup?”
“With fish,” Other-Link agreed. “And cheese. Do you like that, new Wolfie?”
Link felt his tail wag, and he tilted his head. He did like that—now did this boy know? Surely his wolf wasn’t that similar to Link…
“I’ll make that,” Other-Link decided, and he turned to the pot, lighting the fire and tossing ingredients in with his weird magic box.
Warriors gathered the others quickly. Sky and Wind seemed delighted to see him again, and Link watched Time’s face tighten the second he spotted him by the fire. The others, however, looked unsurprised—as if they knew he would catch up eventually.
When they all sat down, Zelda crossed her arms and said, “so, you’re all named Link?”
There was a chorus of yeps and unfortunatelys from the group, and then Time began to speak.
“You know our names, but did Warriors tell you anything else?” When Zelda shook her head, he nodded and turned his attention to Other-Link, who looked to be more interested in cooking than whatever conversation they were having. “You said you went on a journey?” Other-Link nodded without looking up. “Against Ganondorf?”
Other-Link’s eyes flickered away from the pot for a second to glance at Time’s face. “Ganon,” he said quietly.
“As did we.” That seemed to fully rip the boy’s attention away from the cooking pot, and Zelda’s eyes widened. “Have you two heard any legends of heroes of old? You might not have, depending on—”
“Yes,” Zelda interrupted, eyes shining as she leaned forward, and Link had a feeling she knew exactly where this conversation was going. “The Hero of the Skies, the Hero of Time, and the Hero of Twilight”—Link was startled to hear himself in the mix—“although their stories have been muddled and changed over time, we know them.”
“Then you might be surprised to know that we are them,” Time said, and then smiled as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on Link’s head.
Because if that were true, then their names, like Sky and Time, meant…
…the Hero of the Skies. The Hero of Time.
But the Hero’s Shade was the Hero of Time, not this strange man with markings in his face and disapproval in his eye. If it was true, and they were one in the same, and Link’s mentor was the same man who’d been ready to draw his sword at him last night.
If it was true, then Link’s own mentor hated him.
“How can we believe you?” Zelda asked, dragging Link back from his despairing realization. “As fascinating as it sounds, you can’t just saunter in here, claim to be the Heroes of Old, and expect us to instantly cheer and throw you a party.”
Sky chuckled. “You’re right. We don’t expect a party, but maybe this will help convince you?” He took his right glove off and held the top of his hand out for Zelda to see. Link leaned forward, looking over her shoulder to see and hoping she didn’t mind the sudden close proximity to an eighty pound magic wolf as he did so.
On the back of Sky’s hand was the mark of the Triforce, faded like Zelda’s but still noticeable at first glance, unlike Link’s. Though faded, it was still there, and Link could tell it was real.
“That’s…” Zelda’s eyebrows furrowed, and then, quick as lightning, she grabbed Sky’s hand and tugged it closer to examine. “Fascinating!” The heroes all startled at her sudden change in tone. “Would you happen to be the Hero of Skies?”
“Um, yes, I—”
“I knew it! It’s the ears—in the few ancient images we have, Hylians seemed to be depicted in the skies, and some of them had smaller ears that looked almost curved like yours. Is it true that you started the royal bloodline?”
Sky reached his free hand towards his ears, clearly having trouble keeping up with her. “Ah—yes. No? We haven’t really gotten there in my era yet, we only just put a couple of houses down on the Surface, there’s no real royal anything yet, so, uh, m-maybe?”
“If it’s true, then you’re my great-great-great times ten thousand grandpa.” She beamed. “Nice to meet you!”
The realization that he was someone’s great-great-great times ten thousand grandpa seemed to rock Sky to his core, and he sat there and stared into the distance, even as Zelda let go of his hand and turned to the others to ask questions. Poor guy. At least he hadn’t found out his own great-great-great grandpa, who also happened to be a Stalfos, had a living form that hated him. Not that Sky’s news wasn’t good—he would have a family that lived and knew him for centuries and centuries in the future, so it was quite the opposite.
Still probably a shock, though.
When Zelda’s questioning finally died down (he could tell it took a lot out of her to sit still and not infodump about the rare relics found from the Hero of Time’s era) Link finally turned to see how Other-Link was doing with the news.
He was clearly overwhelmed, and Link knew how he felt. He nuzzled gently at the boy’s hand in a weak attempt at comforting and the newest hero glanced down with a fond look Link wished he could reciprocate.
“Since we all have the same name,” Wind began to explain, gesturing to all eight of the surrounding heroes, “we make it easier by using our hero titles. If you don’t know your title, you can touch the Master Sword and she’ll tell you! Right, Sky?” He nudged the hero beside him and Sky jolted out of his daze.
“Um, right!” He took the sword out of its sheath and held it out before Other-Link, whose eyes widened. It was no overreaction—the blade was crisp and shiny, and while the sacred blade itself could never rust or dull, Link’s own Master Sword looked almost dulled in comparison to it. “All you have to do is touch the blade—not the edges, that would hurt—and she’ll tell me what you’ll be called.
“Do it whenever you’re ready,” Sky added softly. “While the sword is a good friend of mine, as strange as that sounds, I know the other heroes might not have a good relationship with it. She won’t hurt or do anything to you, I promise, but you can take as long as you want.”
Other-Link hesitated. His hand raised and then hovered over the blade, as if he was afraid of what would happen when he touched it. Link could see the quick breath he took and the way he squared his shoulders before he placed his hand on it and braced himself.
There seemed to be no pain, but there was a glow—soft and blue, followed by a faint, distorted chiming. Then the light faded and the sword quieted, and Other-Link took his hand off, unsure.
Sky, on the other hand, was beaming. “She said ‘the Hero of the Wild.’ Which, in typical shortening fashion, means we’ll call you Wild. Does that sound okay?”
Wild smiled, looking almost amused, and nodded. From beside him, Zelda laughed, not bothering to hide her pleasure.
“I feel as if it’s a bit of an understatement, actually,” she said, nudging Wild playfully. “Perhaps she should’ve said ‘Hero of Batshit Insanity.’ Then you could all call him Batshit.”
Wild nudged her sharply back, but he was grinning as much as she was. To Link, Wild didn’t seem wild like Zelda said. He seemed sweet, and gentle, and even a little nervous. But Link knew better than anyone that first impressions could be deceiving, and that people had layers to them. He’d have to see.
Wild turned back to making soup, and after a moment, Zelda’s smile fell off her face. She turned to the remaining heroes with a new, less enthusiastic look in her eyes.
“You still haven’t told us, though, why, or how you’re here,” she said, and they all swapped knowing glances. “If you’re all here together, does that mean…”
“According to Sky,” Warriors began, “the Goddess Hylia—I don’t know if you’ve heard of her—is the reason for all of this. There’s something dangerous going on across our timelines, and we’ve all been called to stop it. And that includes, yes, Wild.”
Wild’s grip on the soup ladle tightened. Beside him, Zelda’s eyes darkened.
“There’s no choice?” She asked, voice quiet. “He only just defeated Ganon a couple of months ago. We’ve hardly begun to rebuild.”
“We all left people we care about behind,” Time said, an understanding look in his eye. This version of Time, with a comforting tone and an almost fatherly sense to him, was closer to the Hero’s Shade than Link had yet seen him. While the Hero’s Shade wasn’t exactly paternal, he’d been a steady, comforting figure in Link’s life during his journey, one that he’d never forget. It was strange, seeing someone like the Time represent the Shade.
“But,” Time continued, “we’ve come back to them. We’ve only been traveling for a couple months, but we’ve already revisited some Hyrules. He’ll be back, maybe even very soon, and when this journey is over, he’ll be back permanently.”
“I understand,” Zelda murmured, with a cold voice and the resigned eyes of someone who knew you couldn’t avoid fate or the will of a goddess. It was subtle, the way she seemed to shift closer to Wild, and the way he seemed to relax when she was nearer. They were lucky to have each other, after everything they must’ve been through.
The pumpkin soup was ready soon after. Everyone, including Link, got a bowl, and it was warm and delicious. If he closed his eyes and ignored the cloud of sadness around the gathered heroes, he could almost pretend he was home.
—
When Other-Link became Wild, Link became Twilight.
It made sense. Out of nine Links, he was one, whether they knew it or not, and he couldn’t go around being the only one called Link. He knew his hero title, the Hero of Twilight, and while it wasn’t exactly what he would prefer to be called, it was definitely better than Wolfie. So Twilight it was.
And Twilight was not having a good time.
“I just think we shouldn’t bring him,” Four said, waving his hand towards Twilight. “He’s a dog, wolf, whatever, but we don’t know if he can fight. He might just end up getting hurt and costing us something. He should stay here.”
“And who’s gonna get him to do that?” Legend argued back. “It’s not exactly like he listened the first time we told him to scram.”
“He seems to like Wild,” Warriors pointed out. “Maybe he can tell him to stay.”
When all eyes turned to Wild, the boy tensed. ‘He can fight,’ Wild signed. ‘I’ve seen him do it.’
“We’ve already established that this isn’t your wolf, though,” Legend pointed out.
“They’re different, but they’re the same.” Zelda, who had been dubbed Flora after a long conversation about different Zeldas and how to differentiate between them, finally spoke. “We know he can fight, but we can’t control him.”
Time’s voice stopped the conversation. “It doesn’t matter.” They all turned to where he was standing beside the horse Wild had pulled out for him, stroking her neck gently. Despite the soft gesture, his eyes were sharp and seering as he looked at Twilight. “Flora says a group of black-blooded monsters are migrating between these Dueling Peaks, and that’s our first priority. If he can keep up with the horses, he can throw himself into danger on his own accord. Whatever happens, don’t get distracted, and we should be fine.”
Twilight stared back at him, but Time’s eyes were hard and unreadable. It didn’t matter—if Time thought he couldn’t keep up, he was sorely mistaken.
Twilight had spent most of his journey running. Running from one shrouded twilit place to another, chasing monsters and friends and any cure for whatever had happened to him. He’d gotten used to running on four paws. Hell, even when he wasn’t journeying, he’d spent a lot of time dashing around.
He distinctly remembered the two days he’d used up trying to get money and how he’d avoided Fyer’s canon like the plague. He’d spent all day warping to the outside of Castle Town and running, full speed, across Hyrule Field to get to Fabli’s Flight By Fowl, again and again and again until his paws were aching and he never wanted to hear the sound of a cucco again.
Midna had called him stupid for not paying. Twilight had gotten two thousand rupees by the end of those two days and had single-handedly helped Malo put a Malo Mart in the Castle Town Square. He would call it a win, no matter what the imp in his shadow had said about it.
“So these are horses?” The wonder in Sky’s voice matched the wonder in Wind’s eyes. The two heroes were petting a shiny golden mare whose pelt was starting to make Twilight’s eyes sore. He couldn’t imagine growing up in a world without horses, and he wondered how either of them had survived without one of Twilight’s greatest joys.
“Mhm!” Wild hummed proudly, leading the last horse out of the stable. He’d pulled out seven horses for all of them (seven horses! That boy owned ten whole horses, not including the ones he let “run loose,” whatever that meant) and was handing them off to the people he seemed to think would “match with” each horse best. This excluded Wind and Sky, who’d never even seen a horse before, and Hyrule, who’d never ridden one. The three of them would ride with Time, Wild, and Legend respectively.
Twilight couldn’t help but think the long-haired hero was doing a great job at the matching. The gentle mare Legend had been assigned had already fully tamed him and had its entire face buried in his hair. Legend, to his credit, was doing a great job at looking pissed off about the whole thing, but Twilight could smell the delight rolling off him in waves.
“What’s her name?” Wind asked, making kissy noises at the blinding horse’s face quite endearingly.
It was Flora who responded, coming up behind Wild with a proud look on her face. “I call her Monstrosity. She’s quite the sight, and she’s more than a little stupid, but I love her. She’s the first and only horse I’ve tamed.”
Wind and Sky cooed, and Monstrosity seemed overjoyed at all the attention she was getting.
“Is everyone ready to go?” Warriors asked. He was standing beside a regal white stallion with a saddle and bridle with the Royal Hyrulean Crest on it, and watching both of them stand tall and straight side-by-side was more than a little amusing.
When everyone confirmed, they all mounted their horses (and tried not to stare at Wild as he swung onto a horse two times bigger than a normal horse should be) and held onto the reins.
“You secure?” Time asked over his shoulder at Wind, the smaller boy wiggling around for a moment and then shooting the old man a thumbs up. “Alright. Hang on tight.”
There were some glances in Twilight’s direction, where he was still sitting and waiting patiently. When he noticed them glancing back, he wagged his tail at them.
“Maybe he’s going to stay on his own,” Legend suggested.
Hyrule frowned from behind him, looking unconvinced, but shrugged anyway. “Maybe. He might like it here.”
“Let’s go!” Someone shouted from the front, and there was a chorus of hyahs! as they all spurred their horses into motion.
Twilight watched them leave, tail sweeping against the ground lazily. He would give them a head start.
When they got halfway to the distant bridge, Twilight decided that was far enough. He got to his feet and tore across the grass, paws flying across the ground so fast he barely felt the stalks of the plants beneath him, only the wind whipping through his fur and pressing his ears flat to his head. The horses in the distance got bigger as Twilight covered ground, and in a mere minute he was running alongside the heroes.
Wind spotted him first. “Wolfie!” He cried, and the others’ heads turned. There were laughs and groans, and when Twilight caught Wild’s eye, he saw the boy was grinning.
They reached Dueling Peaks quickly. It was easy to identify the small mountain structure, split down the center, and it was even easier to hear the sounds of cheering monsters from the large crevice in between. When they all stopped, Twilight skidded to a halt by the river and leaned down to lap at the water, panting heavily.
Maybe he was a little less used to running than he thought.
When he left the river’s side, the group was huddled around each other and Warriors was trying to get a good battle strategy in.
“Sky, your foot is still injured, so you’ll have to do something far distance without much movement.” The Captain gestured to Sky’s foot, which was wrapped but not splinted anymore. Clearly, he’d taken a lot of red potion and had a lot of rest to heal whatever had been wrong with him so fast. “Are you good with a bow?”
“I have one, but I’m not the best shot,” Sky admitted. “I have a whip, though. And a slingshot, and also a clawshot. Oh! And a Hook Beetle.”
“I…don’t know what half of that means. We’ll come back to you.” He turned to Flora. “How are your fighting skills?”
“I’ve only been training since the Calamity ended, which hasn’t been for that long,” Flora confessed. “I can take out a regular enemy camp with Link, but if these monsters are as strong as you say they are, then I’ll be more of a burden than a help.”
‘She’s a good shot, though,’ Wild butted in. ‘Almost as good as me. She can headshot from a mile away. It’s impressive, and helpful.’
“Brilliant! A plan is coming together, men and woman. These monsters will be dead by dusk!”
In the end, their plan wasn’t as complicated as Warriors probably wanted it to be. It was as simple as this: Flora and Sky would head up onto one of the ledges alongside the split of Dueling Peaks, where Flora would rain down hell and Sky would keep a steady supply of bombs falling onto large clusters of monsters with his Hook Beetle. The rest of them would charge into battle and hope for the best.
“And you…” Warriors glanced down at Twilight, who had managed to wiggle his way into the group huddle between Wind and Four.
“Don’t get in the way,” Time finished darkly, and Twilight kept his fur from bristling. Time would soon know that he was no burden in battle, wolf or not.
And thus the plan was in motion.
“Any tips before we go in?” Four asked Wild as Flora helped Sky scale the side of the peaks and onto the ledges to get into position.
Wild shrugged. ‘Stab them. Blow them up. Use fire. Throw things. Drown anything that isn’t a Lizalfos.’
That was all the advice they got before Flora and Sky reached the lowest ledge and gave them a thumbs up.
The monsters themselves were camped by the riverside. In the mix of monsters, he could identify Bokoblins and Lizalfos as well as some strange-looking Chus. There were a handful of other monsters he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before, and with all of the monsters together, they created an encampment almost larger than the Bulblin base outside of the Arbiter’s Grounds. They were huddled around multiple fires, some with large slabs of meat cooking overtop them, with some of the Bokoblins and Lizalfos atop pillars, bows in hands.
None of that was too strange, and what really caught Twilight’s attention was the large pile of bones the monsters had seemed to circle around. Probably the bones of their prey, and it made him feel nauseous to think that there might be Hylian skeletons right in front of him.
Wild raised a hand from beside him, and there was the soft sound of something whistling through the air before the nearest Bokoblin lookout slumped over and fell, turning into black smoke before it hit the ground. The entire monster swarm sprung up with roars and oinks and hisses, eyes scanning for the source of the attack. Each and every eye slipped past the various boulders the eight heroes were hiding behind, and in a matter of a couple of seconds, every lookout had been shot and killed.
Wild had been right. Flora was a great archer.
Wild’s other hand raised, and there was a small buzzing sound as a mechanical golden beetle with something in its mouth hovered towards the monsters. Some stared. Others threw rocks and yowled angrily.
The beetle let go of the bomb onto the crowd below it with a resounding boom that shook the earth.
“Go!” Time shouted over the shrieking of monsters as the smoke cleared, and they charged into the fray.
Very few of the monsters were dead and burning on the ground from the explosion, but it had given them the element of surprise that allowed Twilight to latch his jaws onto the nearest Lizalfos, fangs digging into its neck as he chomped down.
The Lizalfos collapsed and there was another explosion from farther away. Something flew past Twilight’s head and shattered on impact on a nearby blue Bokoblin, and when it fell to the ground Twilight sprung and grabbed onto the jugular vein on its neck, tearing it open and killing the monster in a puff of smoke.
He glanced up to see Wild giving him a thumbs up before a new weapon (he’d thrown his sword?) materialized into his hand and he swung it behind him into the jaw of a gangly silver monster.
The rest of the fight was a blur of teeth and swords and arrows and explosives. Monsters clawed at his fur and swung swords at his face, and he dodged and tore back as best he could, keeping watch on the other heroes and jumping in when they needed help.
The monsters were plentiful and their blood was pitch black, and the fight seemed to drag on forever. By the end, his body was aching and he didn’t know what blood was his and what blood belonged to the monsters he’d defeated.
By the time the last Bokoblin perished beneath his feet, the sun was gone from the sky, and the last remains of the sunset were trickling beneath the horizon. Around him, the heroes finished off their foes and stood, panting, eyes darting around for any remaining monsters, dirtied and exhausted and wounded.
“I think that might be i—” Warriors began.
The ground started to shake. The bone pile rumbled, bones falling from the force of the tremors, but no, he realized. They weren’t falling from the force of the tremors—they were causing it. They slotted together and moved, bone connecting to bone connecting to bone until he could make out a hand, and then a full rib cage, and then a body that rose from the ground and stumbled on two white feet. In the center of the creature’s skull was a single beady eye, and that skull opened its jaw and roared.
“What the fuck!” Someone shouted.
“Is it a Stal?” Time asked, and from beside him, Wild nodded.
“Stalnox!” He shouted, grabbing one of the fallen monster’s claymores and charging forward. “Shoot the eye!”
An arrow soared through the sky and struck the Stalnox in its single eye. The enormous monster roared and took a thundering step forward. Another arrow flew and landed in its destination, and the Stalnox bent. Twilight tensed, ready to attack when it fell, but it never did—instead it rose again, one hand wrapped around the trunk of a tree.
Wild skidded to a halt, looking alarmed. A third arrow hit. Nothing happened.
Four asked, “what’s going on?” and Wild gave a hopeless shrug. Clearly, this wasn’t normal behavior.
A skeleton couldn’t have black blood, could it? Skeletons didn’t have blood! But this one clearly hadn’t gotten the memo, and with three—no, four, now—arrows stuck in its eye, it turned to Hyrule, who was struggling to get his sword unstuck from the ground.
“Hyrule!” Wind screamed, and Time took a panicked step forward.
Twilight was the nearest. He tore across the distance between them as the Stalnox raised its arm and threw the tree, crashing into Hyrule and sending him tumbling away. He felt the whoosh of wind and the dirt tear up from the force of the tree as it slammed into the ground where Hyrule had been.
He glanced down at Hyrule beneath him, and the boy stared back with wide, alarmed eyes. He sniffed at his face to make sure he was alright and then stood over him protectively, turning his body to snarl at the Stal enemy.
A fifth arrow soared and struck its eye, and finally, finally it fell with a roar, clapping its bony hand over its injured face. Wild charged forward again and everyone, Hyrule and Twilight included, followed after him.
He wrapped his jaws around the bones and felt them crack beneath the force of his bite, the others hacking away at the monster beside him. Eight against one, they demolished the bottom of the Stalnox quickly, and when it tried to stand it didn’t have enough bones to support its weight and they all scrambled away as it collapsed forward onto the ground again.
With a forceful swing of his claymore, the weapon in Wild’s hands shattered into a million pieces, and the Stalnox let out an agonized roar as its bones deteriorated into dust. Left in its place was nothing but a couple of teeth and some of the weapons that had been stuck in its body.
For a little, it was silent except for the labored breathing of the heroes. It was fully dark now, and Twilight could feel the exhaustion of battle finally hitting him.
Wild shuffled forward to collect the remains of the monster, and Four’s eye twitched when he picked up one of the spears that had been lodged into its head.
“We’re going to have a talk about your weapon care,” the tiny hero broke the silence, and the after-battle tension faded as they all laughed.
—
They headed to Dueling Peaks Stable.
The moon was high when they arrived, and everyone desperately wanted to sleep. Hyrule insisted on checking on everyone as Wild boarded the horses, claiming that after a big battle like that there were bound to be some injuries. After being pressured to check on himself first, Hyrule made his rounds to the others.
Twilight found himself taking note of each injury. Hyrule himself was just a bit sore and scraped up. Sky and Flora were unharmed. Time had a bad cut on his face. Wind had, somehow, managed to break his thumb. Legend had sprained his ankle and had a nasty bruise on his cheek. Four was suffering from multiple bad cuts, but claimed that they should all be more worried about the fact his heart had snapped in two after seeing the way Wild manhandled his weapons.
When Wild got back from boarding the horses he got a thorough checkup, too. He was clearly unused to being so closely examined, but after losing a stare down with Flora he reluctantly agreed and was quickly diagnosed with a black eye and a shoulder wound from being impaled by a spear, along with all of the sword shrapnel stuck in his hands.
While the healer used his magic to heal the more dire wounds and gave out red potions to those with less severe injuries, Twilight laid down beside the cooking pot and tried to ignore the stinging of his own wounds.
He didn’t expect Hyrule to walk over to him after he was done with the others. Twilight raised his head when the healer approached. Taking in Hyrule’s tense body language and wary expression, he relaxed his body and let his tail wag to let him know he wasn’t a threat. It seemed to work—Hyrule’s shoulders relaxed and he crouched down in front of Twilight with an almost shy smile.
“Hi,” the healer said, and Twilight wagged his tail faster in greeting. “I, uh, noticed you had some injuries from the fight. I don’t know if you can understand me, but magic is different from yours and I’m afraid using it might hurt you instead of help. Warriors taught me some first aid he learned during his war a little while ago. Would you mind if I gave you a look over to make sure you’re alright?”
Twilight nodded in a way that was probably disconcerting to see on a wolf and sat up, letting Hyrule lean forward and look through his fur for wounds.
Halfway through, Hyrule broke the silence between them as he began to wrap up a bad cut above one of his paws.
“I just wanted to say thanks for saving me,” the healer said, not meeting Twilight’s eyes. “I’ve been kind of judgemental towards you because the magic you give off feels like some sort of dark magic, but you still risked your life for me anyway. I could’ve been crushed and I’m grateful I wasn’t, thanks to you. If, uh, it makes up for how I treated you.”
Twilight was surprised. Less for the thanking and more for the apologizing. He’d had some pretty bad reactions to his wolf form before, and Hyrule’s wasn’t anywhere near the worst of it. Still, Twilight leaned down to reach the side of Hyrule’s face from where the boy was crouched and gave him a quick lick on the ear. I forgive you.
“Oh, ew!” Hyrule pulled away, making a face, but he was grinning. “Gross, Wolfie.”
Ugh. It looked like the Wolfie name had stuck. Wild was nice, but he needed to work on his naming skills.
Hyrule finished the rest of the checkup quickly and gave Twilight the all clear before he left to grab his things and head into the stables with the others. It was almost midnight, and everyone was exhausted, Twilight included. Time had Sky slung over his shoulder, the latter limp and practically comatose, and Wind and Four were trying and failing to stifle their laughter as they watched the older man carry the younger like a sack of flour.
Twilight laid down by the pot again. The air had a chill to it, and he knew he’d have trouble sleeping out on the ground.
Just as he had the thought, Wind called out from beside the stable entrance. “Hey, Wolfie! You can’t sleep outside! It’s too cold! Come inside with us. We’re doubling up ‘cause there aren’t enough beds, so you can be my sleeping partner.”
Twilight glanced towards Time, unsure of what the designated leader would have to say. To his surprise, though, Time merely nodded.
Twilight had to force his tail to still as he jumped to his feet and padded after the youngest and into the large horse-shaped tent. Around him he saw the others getting into bed, latching onto their “sleeping partners” or simply flopping onto the nearest bed and waiting for another, equally as exhausted hero to flop down beside them.
Time gently laid Sky down on a nearby bed and tucked the covers up to the sleepy hero’s chin before turning around and announcing, “Legend’s on Sky duty.”
The veteran groaned and there were tired, sympathetic murmurs from the others as he stumbled over to Sky.
Wind leaned down and whispered into Wolfie’s ear, “nobody wants to sleep with Sky because he grabs onto you like a koala and doesn’t let go, like, ever. He also sleeps ‘til the middle of the day and it takes dumping a bucket of ice water onto him to wake him up, so Legend will be stuck with him for a long time. I think that’s why Time did it—we all know Legend is gonna try and wake up early even though he’s hurt, but now he can’t.”
Ah. The more Twilight learned about Time, the more it seemed like he was just a man who was trying to care for his companions. He would have to admit there might’ve been a bit of a misunderstanding between the two of them.
“I dunno why everyone complains, though,” Wind yawned, lifting his own covers up and slipping inside. “Sky gives great cuddles, so Sky duty isn’t even that bad.” The kid patted the top of his bed. “Up-up.”
Twilight rolled his eyes at the dog command but turned and jumped onto the bed anyway, turning in circles for a second before realizing the bed wasn’t big enough for him to try and avoid touching Wind. Instead, he turned and flopped right on top of Wind, resting his chin on the boy’s chest, careful to avoid the broken thumb.
“Oof,” Wind huffed. “You’re heavy.”
Twilight growled. Didn’t he know it was rude to comment on someone’s weight?
“I’m sure it’s all just fluff,” Wind said quickly.
“Be quiet,” someone groaned.
Wind mumbled something under his breath and reached his hand up to scratch behind Twilight’s ears.
Twilight felt his body relax, and he closed his eyes, falling asleep to the sound of snores around him.
—
He woke up when the sun did.
Wind was still snoring beneath him, one leg dangling off the side of the bed and drool trailing out of the side of his mouth. Upon glancing around, he saw that everyone else was still asleep, too—everyone except for Time.
The man was nowhere to be found, and Twilight felt his curiosity get the best of him. Wiggling out of Wind’s grasp (and just narrowly avoiding waking him up) he jumped down from the bed and headed outside.
Twilight found him by the pot. The fire wasn’t lit, and nothing was cooking. Time was merely sitting there beside it, staring with an unreadable expression into the sunset. Whether it be the sound of the chain still wrapped around his ankle or something else, Time seemed to notice him standing there hesitantly a couple of feet away, not sure if he was allowed to approach. Time’s eyes flickered over to the wolf, and then turned back to the horizon.
“You can come,” he said, and Twilight jumped at the sound of his voice. He’d been expecting him to stay silent. Warily, Twilight took a step forward, and then another, and then another, until he was standing beside him. When Time didn’t make another comment, Twilight slowly lowered his haunches to the ground and sat.
It was silent. Twilight took his chances and glanced up at Time’s face. He wasn’t wearing any armor, which shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d just been asleep, after all, but with how much he always wore it he wouldn’t have been surprised if he slept with it on, too.
Without his armor, Time almost looked normal. Nonthreatening, just an everyday guy you might walk by. If Twilight ignored the facial markings, he looked like someone who Twilight might’ve grown up around in Ordon. Someone who might’ve raised me, a traitorous little voice said in the back of his mind, but he pushed it away. Time was possibly hundreds of years in the past from Twilight. There would’ve been no raising, and Twilight hadn’t needed him even if he wasn’t long dead in his era. Rusl and Uli had done a good enough job doing that on their own.
“I’ve been unfair to you.” Again, Twilight flinched at the way he spoke unprompted. When he glanced up curiously, Time’s eyes remained locked onto the horizon. “I’d feel strange talking to an animal that doesn’t understand me, but you do, don’t you? Understand. You’ve got a look of intelligence I’ve seen on only a few creatures before. At first, when I saw that look, I’ll admit that it scared me. That, and the magic you gave off—something akin to dark magic—made me think that you were something sent by the Shadow. Possibly even Ganon himself.
“Me and the others don’t have great history with magic of that kind, and when you showed up with eyes that were too smart and magic like it? I feared you were here to hurt those boys. I pushed you away because I thought if I didn’t, you’d get to them before I could stop you. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. But that’s not what you are, is it?” Finally, Time looked down at him and met his eyes. “You’re not here to hurt them. You’re here to protect them. And it took you saving Hyrule’s life for me to realize.”
The old man cleared his throat and leaned back with a sigh. “I’d like to apologize, if it means anything to you. For how I reacted before I took the time to think about what you’d already done for Sky, and everything else. Although,” he added, “you can understand the situation I was in, I hope. You’re not exactly the most angelic looking creature out there.”
An apology. From the Hero’s Shade himself. Twilight’s head was buzzing, but he tried to keep up with the conversation anyway. He could understand Time’s thought process—he knew that if he put himself in the same situation with the kids in Ordon, he’d react the same way. He hadn’t been expecting an apology, but he managed to clear his head and nuzzle Time’s hand gently to let him know there were no hard feelings.
Time smiled down at him—smiled! Had the Hero’s Shade ever smiled at him?—just as he heard the sound of footsteps from behind him. They both turned and saw Wild speeding out of the stables with an irritated looking Flora stumbling after him. It was clear who the morning person was between the two of them.
Wild sat down beside Twilight and turned on the fire, getting ready with breakfast. The others woke soon after, probably smelling the beautiful aroma of whatever the cook was making, and soon all except for Sky and Legend, as Wind had predicted, were up and around the fire.
“Do you know when the portal will arrive?” Flora asked as Wild passed out some of the most delicious smelling omelets Twilight had ever laid eyes on, and he almost passed out with joy when the boy gave him a plate, too.
“Sometimes,” Four answered as they all shoveled food down their throats, and the tips of Wild’s ears grew red as they all complimented his cooking in between bites. “Sometimes we feel some sort of pull before it happens, and other times it takes us completely by surprise. We never know what might happen.”
“One time a portal showed up right underneath mine and Hyrule’s feet!” Wind added, mouth still full of food, and Warriors jabbed him in the side sternly with a look that clearly said, chew your food before you speak! Wind rolled his eyes and swallowed loudly before adding, “we landed in a pile of horse shit.” Warriors facepalmed.
Hyrule flushed and Flora’s eyebrows raised. “Does that happen often?”
Four sighed. “Yes. Hylia has it out for us.”
Flora nodded sympathetically, and Twilight realized he still wasn’t quite sure who this Hylia goddess was, or why exactly everyone seemed to be slightly passive aggressive with her.
‘Are we only going to Hyrules we know?’ Wild asked.
“The only time we ever go into a new Hyrule is when we’re recruiting a new hero, like you,” Warriors explained. “This is our ninth, only because we had a strange situation before this…”
“Right,” Wind agreed. “We were dropped into a strange Hyrule for a whole month, and none of us could recognize it. We thought we were recruiting a new hero and we went to Castle Town to find out if anyone knew him, but nobody even had any news about him. We couldn’t even get an audience with the queen—we stayed there for a whole month, and nothing happened! Eventually, a portal picked us up and we came here, but I’m still curious about that Hyrule’s hero and why we couldn’t find him.”
Twilight almost choked on his foot. They’d been to his Hyrule?
He couldn’t confirm it was his, but it made sense. A Hyrule for every hero recruited, and if he hadn’t gotten stuck in wolf form and teleported away before they could meet, he would’ve been that eighth recruit. Which meant…had they been the reason the queen had wanted to meet?
Twilight turned to Wild and whined at him. My Hyrule! That was mine! Wild just shook his head at him and signed, ‘Sorry. No more food.’
Twilight turned with a despairing huff. How much longer was he going to be stuck like this? He found himself wishing for a portal at that moment, one to take him back home so he could fix this curse and become Hylian again.
Hylia, whoever she was, seemed to hear his call. In the corner of his vision, there was a flicker and a large, purple triangle opened a hole into the space time continuum. There was a shriek from a nearby Hylian wearing a comically large backpack as he stumbled back and landed on his butt at the portal’s sudden appearance.
“That’s our que,” Time sighed, standing with a grunt. “Everyone, get your things. I’ll wake Sky and Legend. Don’t take too long, or she’ll move the portal beneath our feet.”
There were groans and grumbles as everyone jumped up and hurried to grab their belongings. Twilight didn’t move, since he had nothing to bring, so he opted to sit with Flora and Wild.
Flora was unclipping something from her side and handed it off to Wild, who took it reluctantly.
“Purah will make me a new Pad,” she said. “I know you’re used to having something like the Slate with you on adventures. Stay safe, alright? Don’t die again.”
Again?
Wild chuckled weakly. “You don’t die, either. Hateno is close. Don’t fight any monsters if you can.”
“I should be telling you that,” Flora retorted. And then, to Twilight’s surprise, she turned to him. “And you.” Her voice was stern, and he straightened up instinctively. “Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble, you hear me? And don’t get into any trouble yourself.” Twilight rumbled affirmatively and got a pat in return.
Soon afterwards everyone was gathered around the portal, their things hastily thrown together as they all waited in front of the swirl of purple. Wind caught sight of Twilight and beamed. “Is he coming, too?”
“Can he? I thought only we could go through,” Four pointed out.
“We’ll have to see,” Time said. “After you?” He gestured to the portal. Twilight didn’t need any further prompting. He jumped into the purple, the world shifting and warping in that familiar feeling, and after what felt like forever and no time at all he was spat out somewhere else.
He opened his eyes quickly. Was it his world? Was he back—
The cold wind tore through his fur sharply as he stared in shock around him. The others began to appear after him, making various exclamations when they saw.
They weren’t in his Hyrule. They weren’t on a Hyrule at all.
Sky let out a delighted gasp. “Guys! This is mine!” He cried, all of his previous bedraggled-ness gone.
He ran forward and turned, stretching his arms out theatrically.
“Welcome to Skyloft!”