Don't Go Into the Light

by CluelessMoose

Summary:

The Chain has landed in a strange new Hyrule, separated and confused and varying degrees of screwed. Luckily, there's a new Link to go along with this new world.

Well, luckily for them. Wild, on the other hand, seems to only be able to run into trouble despite his best intentions.

Or:

The long promised Alternate POV fic to Follow the Lights

Notes:

Hello, everybody! Here we are once more, horrified witnesses to Wild’s foolish heroism. If you’re new, I’d highly suggest reading Follow the Lights first- this is the alternate POV of that fic, but it’s not super functional as a stand-alone. This is meant to fill in the gaps where Wild wasn’t present/ wasn’t conscious, as well as provide a little back story about each member of the Chain and what they did before Wild got to ‘em. That said, in fair warning this fic will only run through FtL’s chapter 12, not all the way through the last chapter, since by then Wild’s up and about and an alternate POV wouldn’t add much.

Cheers, and enjoy the ride (again)!

Chapter 1: And Here I Thought We Were Done

Summary:

Turns out they weren’t numbered eight after all.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: General sickness

Actual Time: About 2:45 PM
Time elapsed since Chain transported into Wild’s Hyrule: Start timers… NOW
Chapter spans: ~15 minutes
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 1

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POV: Wind: Ship Wide Record Holder for Beating Tetra in Rock-Paper-Scissors … and Living to Brag About It

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The portal had looked perfectly normal when it first showed up- that is to say, weird as hell but like, in the usual way. 

 

Traveling through it was normal, too, at first- the usual shift from cozy heat to brisk chill, like diving below the sun-warmed surface waters into cooler depths. The squeezing pressure that bordered on pain was expected, if uncomfortable while it lasted, but at least Wind came out the other end pretty much unaffected. Some of the others -Four especially- weren’t so lucky, something Wind would gloat about if the portals weren’t a necessity on their quest, forcing all of them to endure whatever side-effects were inflicted whether they wanted to or not. They’re all heroes though, and Wind knows even Four would choose to go time and time again rather than stay behind. It just sucks that it’s so hard on some of them, that it’s such an ordeal that happens so often by nature of being their primary mode of transport between worlds. 

 

Right now, though, Wind’s especially glad he never rubbed it in, because if this is anything like what Four or Legend go through, he has not been giving them enough credit for being badasses. And that is saying something, because Wind’s no fool, and he doesn’t exactly have low expectations of badassery from them to begin with. 

 

So yeah, while normally he can leave the portals with a skip in his step and a cocky jaunt in his shoulders, this time was different in… a series of different ways. 

 

This time as Wind exited the portal there was an odd sense of resistance, of charging power, before the little Sailor was thrown forward in an explosion of screaming light and force with such speed and unexpected surprise that he didn’t even realize what was happening until it was done. He barely registered his body impacting a solid surface over the screaming energy storming around him before an overwhelming blast of pain and electricity abruptly slammed his consciousness into darkness; no finesse, no just absolute brutal, explosive force purging him from the gap between worlds. 

 

No, definitely not your average portal hop.

 

-----------------------------------------

 

Wind was being carried when his hearing started to trickle back into place; an unfortunately common circumstance to find himself in, being the youngest and therefore one of the shortest heroes in their band. This time, the Sailor was going to let it slide- he felt like the chafed underside of a pig, and if he didn’t have to move or open his eyes yet, he was going to take full and unabashed advantage of it. He shifted slowly, groaning in the back of his throat at the strained-muscle feeling plaguing his entire body, a headache pounding at his skull like he’d gone too long without water on the seas again. 

 

He unfurled across the soulbond, reaching to see who had him this time- only to startle and instinctively fling himself from the stranger’s arms as he snapped to awareness and realized with a dawning horror that he couldn’t feel any of the others nearby. He fell to the ground as he tried to lunge out of range, surroundings a dizzy blur that wrecked his ability to keep himself upright. Eyes crossing woozily, he glared up at the stranger, grasping his sword- and stopped, hesitating as he finally managed to focus on the red eyes and pale hair distinctive of every Sheikah he’d met across the others’ Hyrules. 

 

They’d always been friendly; they could be trusted, regardless of where the Chain had been thrown this time. He forced himself to loosen his grip on the hilt, hazy eyes narrowing to a more calculating stare, then squeezing shut altogether as the pain in his temples stabbed sharply in complaint to the sunlight.  

 

Wind let himself fall limp in their grip, utterly sick and still terribly shaken, even if he wasn’t amongst enemies as he’d first feared. A hand rested on his forehead hesitantly, and he opened watering eyes to see a young sheikah woman hovering over the shoulder of a kind faced man as he tended to the stricken Sailor. 

 

“How are you feeling, child? Are you hurt?” He was asked, and Wind wrinkled his nose in offense, stubbornly forcing himself upright. 

 

He clumsily flapped a hand in the air as if to brush off the demeaning diminutive. “I’m fine, it was just a bad landing. Where’s the rest of my group?” Wind asked, barely keeping the anxious note out of his voice, because they weren’t here , and he knew they’d never leave him unconscious with strangers unless they had no other choice. Perhaps monsters had cropped up, or there was an emergency that couldn’t wait for him to wake-

 

Two sets of ruby eyes blinked blankly at him, before pale brows creased in immediate dismay. “Your group?” Wind froze at the confusion in the man’s voice. Their heads swiveled simultaneously, and Wind followed their gazes to a strange building overlooking a ridge over the village they were settled in- it was hard to miss, shaped like a zapping pile of shit and shining a violent, burning blue. The woman continued, voice increasingly uncertain and nervous. “We found you up there; how did you use it? We’ve only ever seen-”

 

But Wind cut them off, because if the other heroes were missing he had to know . “Did you see the others?” His head throbbed and spun, panic starting to rise despite his attempts to stay calm. The silence stretched on, and his nerve broke at what it entailed. 

 

“There are seven of them! You couldn’t have missed them, maybe they went a different way, or landed somewhere else-!” He could hear his own voice rising higher as he looked around, spotting at least three entrances to the village from here on the main road. There were options, they must just be somewhere else. Wind hadn’t gotten separated, because it had been just a normal portal and they do it all the time, except for the weird feeling when he left it -

 

His panting breath caught in his throat as a hand landed on his shoulder, heavy and warm like Time’s but not the Old Man, because there was no answering old forest- steady decay-predatory patience as he reached out across the soul bonds nestled within him, and this Sheikah didn’t know him at all, not like his brothers did. 

 

“Easy there kid, I’m sure they’re looking for you too. Do you know what happened?” The man had a calm voice, but Wind was in no mood to be soothed- he had to find his family, had to know that they were here too, somewhere. 

 

“No, no I just-” He caught himself short, frazzled brain remembering at the last second that he couldn’t exactly tell them he’d gone through a portal-explaining that would take too long. He started to stand, shaking off their restraining hands with increasing fear. “I have to go, I have to find them! Let me go!” He shouted over their attempts to calm him down, to speak to him rationally, to keep him here. 

 

Wind wasn’t feeling very rational, and he certainly didn’t want to stay here when his family was not here. He shoved away from the man, the woman skittering far out of his way with a squeak, lurching to his feet and racing towards the nearest exit. 

 

He didn’t make it far. 

 

The ground leaned to the side, spots crowding in on his vision as he tried to get his uncooperative feet to stop staggering and catching on themselves. It was no use; he felt himself start to fall, felt arms catch him. He slumped defeatedly into them, feeling useless and ill and afraid. They continued to try to talk to him in urgent, quiet voices, but he stubbornly closed his eyes, taking a minute to just feel sorry for himself. 

 

Just a minute. Then he’d get it back together and work out what to do next. 

 

“Kid, come on, let’s get you inside-”

 

“Leave me alone!” He shouted ( begged ), trying to organize his scrambled thoughts to figure out what Warriors would do .  

 

There was a snap of fabric, like a sail catching sharply in the breeze.  

 

“Link!” The woman cried, and Wind tried to blink himself back into focus before belatedly remember that he hadn’t given his name, either one of them, to these people. He tried to sit up, twisting to see which brother was there, only to fall back onto the man in dismay and confusion at the unfamiliar teenager there. 

 

The hylian had long, bright blonde hair and snapping blue eyes that seemed almost oversaturated, features blurred -though the side of his face seemed discolored- as Wind’s eyes refused to keep focus, still dizzy from his misguided attempt to walk off. He was armed and dressed in a bright blue similar to Wind’s own tunic; the guy had taste. 

 

He looked incredibly cool, and very much like the kind of person who could help Wind. He watched dazedly as the other hylian sheathed his sword, the nervous woman declaring Wind harmless as she introduced him as a child.

 

Oh hell no. 

 

He spoke as scathingly as he could in a meager attempt to defend his honor, though the effect was rather ruined by the thin, reedy tone that came out. “That young adult is less ‘okay’ and more ‘feeling like shit’, but- wait, did you say Link?” The hostility in Wind’s voice died an abrupt death as her words caught up to his dizzy brain. The Sailor perked up, pulling himself upright from his slump to examine the other more closely than before, blinking his eyes determinedly into focus this time with only mixed success. 

 

Link was lean, built slender the way Wars was under all his chainmail, and rather diminutive in the same manner almost all the Links tended to be compared to other races. His clothes were as rumpled and grass-stained as Hyrule’s after a good wandering, stray leaves caught in his hair now that Wind squinted closer. He had bright, curious eyes and healthy tanned skin, smiling good-naturedly as Wind looked him over. There were no ghosts around him, but there was a faint, turquoise aura about him, like a light was shining within him through his skin, only noticeable when Wind focused hard on it. 

 

Heart racing with hope, Wind probed the nexus where all the soulbonds between the Chain resided in his mind, and there he was, suddenly. 

 

The other Link burst forth in his senses with all the energy of a brook frothing over rocks, swirling with river music as it raced down its course. He felt like rain falling from the sky on an upturned face, pure and cool. Bright, fruity flavors soaked into the air, warm and syrupy and inviting. Wind turned into it, drawing comfort from the connection despite its novelty.

 

The other seemed oblivious, only subconsciously wrapping Wind up a little with that rushing, cooling river song, eyes softening as he looked at the Sailor. 

 

Wind soaked in the presence of the other hero- a new brother, he thought in sudden, rabid enthrallment- with renewed awe and relief. Not alone after all , and better yet, Wind was the lucky one to stumble over their newest Link, and right away, too! 

 

He slumped back against the Sheikah man with a gusty sigh, grinning as his eyes closed in relief. “Thank Hylia,” he said vehemently, “you have no idea how long we had to look for Hyrule and Twilight.” They’d both been skittish when they found out there were people asking after them and both very good at keeping away from said group- all that had saved the Chain in the end was the insatiable curiosity inherent in every reincarnation of the Hero’s Spirit. They couldn’t help but investigate to see if they were a threat, in need of help, or something else. 

 

He gazed back up at Link beseechingly despite the vicious throb of his head at the renewed exposure to sunlight. This was his Hyrule, he would know better than anyone where Wind’s family had landed. “Speaking of, have you seen any other uhm… travelers? Seven of them, also blond, armed- for ah, for the road!” Wind amended quickly, because he distinctly remembers how Legend and Warriors had been suspicious of armed visitors looking for a ‘Link’. Rather than run, they’d instead been confrontational, Legend almost taking them out with a trap before they managed to talk him down. 

 

This time though, ohohoho . This time was going to be different. It was Wind’s turn to run the show, and he was going to learn from their mistakes, damn it- they’d all laughed over how each member had joined up often enough around the campfire, but Wind was going to blow them out of the water.  

 

Link’s expression quirked for a second, but Wind’s rationale must have worked, because he didn’t seem suspicious, only a little bemused as he answered in a pleasant, thrumming voice. “I’d hope so, there’s been an uptick in monsters lately, and they haven’t been sticking to their usual camps or routes.” He shook his head in a birdlike motion as if to get himself back on track, drawing himself up like a figure of authority. 

 

So cute , Wind thought. He had nothing on Time. 

 

Wind took it back in the next second as Link’s voice hardened considerably. “More importantly, what on earth were you doing at the shrine? Did you all mess with one of them?” Those blue eyes seemed to nearly glow as they stared intently at Wind, and the cool intensity of the look had the Sailor immediately switching tactics to those he generally used on the Old Man.

 

He let his eyes water, using the painful headache and looming anxiety over the Chain’s whereabouts to fuel the teary expression. Wind was still limply drooped against the Sheikah holding him up, looking adequately pathetic as he blinked innocently at Link, only half feigning his confusion. “Shrine? The bright…glowy thing?” He paused, then continued on, defensive and alarmed. “We didn’t do anything; there weren’t even any of those around when we disappeared! We were just minding our own business and suddenly I woke up here, with no one but strangers,” Wind said nervously, sidestepping the more… outlandish parts of why and how he was here. 

 

His throat started to tighten as his own words rang too true, leaving him once again panicking at the utter lack of hovering older brothers. Wind’s voice was small as he asked, “There was really no one else there? You didn’t see anyone?” The shaking was audible by the end as the tears in his eyes finally spilled over, leaving the young Sailor horrified at his own vulnerability as he turned away pointlessly to wipe them from his face as they continued to fall. 

 

Well. The ‘play the harmless lost kid’ plan had gone both better and worse than expected, in that he definitely pulled it off flawlessly because Wind forgot that’s exactly what he fucking was . The Chain has been separated before, but never out of the groups they entered in, never out of shouting distance from each other. 

 

Never alone . 

 

No. Stop sniveling, you lily-livered jack , he berated, trying to win back his control over the creeping fear of being lost from the rest of his brothers across time and space. The Sheikah rubbed his shoulder, and if he closed his eyes Wind could almost pretend it was Warriors, even if the lack of his wild lavender thick enough to sleep on-silk snagging on coarse fingers-rolling, pulsing drum like a heartbeat left a gaping silence in the illusion. 

 

The weak, false comfort shattered entirely as the man spoke, his voice far too weathered compared to the Captain’s clear, strong voice. “I went up to check what was wrong and found him in the shrine, unconscious. There was lightning zapping all around so I got him out -which you would have been handy for, electric repellent gear that I know you have and all- and brought him down here. He seems fine, just knocked out and a little fried by whatever happened.” Wind saw them look his way and kept his eyes averted, all too aware of the upset still writ across his face in damp trails. 

 

Mercifully, the man continued on as if nothing was overly wrong. “The shrine has calmed down a little since, but we’ve never seen anything like it. There wasn’t anyone else around that we could find, and a few of us even made sure to check up the road and towards the fairy fountain.” Everyone’s attention returned to the construction in question; Wind could only assume that it normally wasn’t acting like a tiny isolated lightning storm, energy zapping about it with an audible, ominous buzz even from this far away. 

 

Link turned to him suddenly, face alarmed. “You said there were seven others? That’s too many to have missed arriving here, but-” And here he pulled out an odd looking flat stone, the surface of which lit up in a similar shade to the out-of-control shrine. He flicked his fingers over it delicately for a moment, lips moving silently, before his expression grew grimly resolute. 

 

Even in the daylight, the glow cast by that strange slate caught the shine of the scars across Link’s face, painting them a pale blue. Those bright eyes glinted consideringly, finally looking to the side as he frowned harder. “Yeah, that’s what I was afraid of. The good news is I think I know where they are; I’ve got several other shrines that are acting weird like this one was,” Link said, eyes darting as he examined his stone. Wind sat up immediately, because it sounded like the hero was interested enough - concerned enough, by the set of his mouth- to help Wind out with finding the others.

 

Link sent him a warning glance, eyes catching a shine as he turned to Wind before glancing back down, drawing a finger gently in a line. The Sailor ignored it, gathering his feet slowly underneath him. 

 

The other hylian made a displeased sound. “The bad news is that some of them will have found themselves in a nasty situation if they weren’t prepared or go wandering in the wrong direction instead of staying put. Does that sound like something they’d do?” Link’s voice was hopeful, but, well. If Wind was being honest…

 

He couldn’t help but pull his shoulders in a bit, a fresh wave of fear rolling over him. They were adventurers and warriors, all of them heroes who didn’t just wait for a rescue. There’s no way they’d stick around these angry shrine things, at least not for very long. His voice was embarrassingly shrill as he insisted, “Yes, definitely yes! They’re not going to hang around long at all before trying to find the others, especially not knowing where anyone went. Will that… can we still get ‘em back?” His eyes were wide and pleading, desperate for the other to say it didn’t matter, that they’d still be able to find them, that the Chain would be safe and back together soon. 

 

It’s fine , he told himself,  it’ll be fine ! If Link was their newest companion, that must mean he’s a skilled fighter in his own right, and he got here so fast despite evidently not being in the village that he must have a few tricks up his sleeve. They’ll find the others, and Wind can use the shared experience to bond with him and get him acclimated in the smoothest transition yet, the others are going to be so impressed- 

 

“Not we ,” Link said flatly. Wind’s thoughts came screeching to a halt, staring up at the other hero with shock and betrayal. Those painfully bright blue eyes ran up and down his body, making Wind acutely aware of the manner in which he was still crumpled on the ground, leaning lightly on the Sheikah man for support. 

 

There was nothing but confidence in Link’s voice as he continued. “But I can get them back. Paya, take him to Impa and get the full story. Kid, I need you to tell them whatever you know that could possibly be related to this- “ 

 

Wind cut in, because this was the perfect opportunity to fill the other in on Hylia’s quest across time, and the eight other heroes of courage that were in it with him. “I think I know what might have happened,” he admitted, “But I really think I should tell you , since-”

 

Link ran right over his attempt to start a very important discussion, insisting, “There’s no time for that. Your friends are in some dangerous situations and I need to get them back here. Just- anything you would tell me you can tell Impa, okay? I’ll be back soon.” And damn it all to hell, Wind’d be drowned and damned before he tells this Impa fuck all without Link there as well, but just as his hackles were getting well and truly raised a hand was ruffling his hair in a playful motion, nails scratching lightly against his scalp for a moment before the older hylian pulled away, a delicate blush crossing over his tan cheeks. 

 

Link turned away and pulled another Sheikah guard along with him as he started to change his gear. Wind stared after him, eyes wide as his heart ached with desire to follow, to help, to save his brothers from the danger they could be facing alone. Instead, this Link would be going out solo, saving complete strangers off of nothing but the word of a strange kid. 

 

Another hero indeed, one who was thankfully as benevolent and weak to the charming, affectionate effects of their bound souls as all the rest of the Chain.  

 

And maybe, if they’re lucky, a new brother as well. Wind straightens his hair back out thoughtfully, considers how quickly and easily they’d all fallen into place with each other. His hand rests in his hair, combing through it in a facsimile of Link’s earlier action. No, he didn’t think it would take this new hero long at all to meld in with the others. Wind can afford to wait on his explanation, not that he’s been given much of a choice. Still, he’s made a more positive first impression on this Hyrule’s Link than many of the others got in their first contact, so step one of Be the Best Guide Into the Chain was a raging success in his books. 

 

Link’s voice trickled in again, confident and light-hearted in a way that set Wind at ease, considering he’d know best the dangers of his own kingdom, and he wasn’t concerned. 

 

“-Unavoidable if we want to see those travelers returned safely. See you soon!” He called, waving with devilish grin as he touched his special stone once more, odd slashes of light cutting through the air around him. He was leaving so fast?

 

Wind caught sight of the worry on the Sheikahs’ faces and couldn’t help himself from lunging forward, calling “Be careful!” to Link as his form started to break away into vivid, jagged bolts, something that Wind can only assume was normal judging by the other’s relaxed posture. The hero twirled towards him, hair fanning out as its strands broke away into light shards, grinning devilishly before laughing, “When aren’t I?” as he vanished. 

 

The silence thereafter was broken by a scoff from the Sheikah beside Wind. Uncertainly, he asked “...Is he? Careful?” Wind sent a dubious look to the man, but he only buried his head in his hands, shaking it slowly. 

 

That… was not promising. 

 

The woman finally shook herself from staring at the place Link had left with furrowed eyebrows before exchanging a nervous glance with the man and bowing slightly to Wind as if out of pure habit. “Shall we take you to see Impa?” She said, wringing her hands subtly before her. “She’s the village elder, if there’s anything odd going on with the shrines or the technology that runs them, she should know what it is.” Wind’s expression shuttered stubbornly, dark eyes turning flinty. She visibly hesitated, before biting her lip and looking aside. “Link uses the technology as well, so if there’s something wrong with them he could be in danger as well. Getting him to listen to advice can be… difficult, but he respects Impa enough to at least sit still and take in what she says.” 

 

Wind narrowed his eyes minutely at her thinly veiled attempt at leveraging his fondness for Link against him- and wow, but how obvious had it been that she caught it so easily? Wind can’t tell if he’s already done that fantastic of a job at endearing the hero to him or if the woman is just that bad at manipulation that she’d put so heavy an emphasis of what -outside of a soul-bound reincarnation of their Link with all the adjoining instinctive affection- would have been nothing more than someone having a friendly disposition and being good with kids. 

 

Young adults. Teenagers. Whatever. 

 

Still, this adventure… it’s probably best that Link hear it first from Wind himself, if for no other reason than to ensure no details are lost or incorrectly passed on if he’s not allowed in on Impa’s debriefing of the hero when he returns. He gives the nervous Sheikah a withering glare and proceeds to haul himself up and away, only to be turned by the shoulders relentlessly to the elder’s home. All his limp-noodled, half-hearted struggling was for naught against two full-grown men that he didn’t truly want to hurt, so he finally let himself be led in. 

 

It’s not as if he actually had to talk about anything important, after all. Wind could stall, he was fantastic at stalling- all it took was a good story weakly adjacent to the topic at hand, enough confidence to deter interruptions, and charisma to snag their interest and keep ‘em listening. They didn’t seem panicked for their hero, only mildly worried about whatever was going on and curious about his situation, so Wind’s chances of holding them off seemed pretty promising. 

 

He never got to put his plan in place, though, never got to see how good he’d gotten at emulating Warrior’s smarmy verbal dancing. Instead of charming the pants off of them and weaving a good yarn he’d instead ended up fainting dead away like a sun-dried fool, putting a clean stop to any discussions, productive or not. It would have been a brilliant stalling tactic and far more foolproof than getting lost on rabbit trails, except for the part where he wasn’t faking it . Honestly, sometimes it seemed as if Hylia herself were slapping his hand every time he tried to gather evidence that he could handle himself just fine on his own, thanks.

 

As he’d walked up the elder’s stairs the ringing in his ears had grown louder and louder, and he had only just been settled down - too little, too late laughed the black dots pressing in on his vision-  before the old, diminutive woman that reminded him too much of Granny when the light-headed weakness that had been steadily growing since Link left suddenly crested and rolled over him, sending the young hylian crumpling into a faint.

 

It put a bit of a damper on introductions, from what he could tell after the fact. 

 

After that, the Sheikah seemed to have decided to leave him to recover before grilling him- something about interrogating a sick youth must have left a bad taste in their mouths, and they were, as he first assumed, good people in the end. Wind woke up tucked into a cozy bed in a cozy room and was left well alone, not telling them that he only really had a headache and some lingering dizziness at this point. He was feeling less sick to his stomach than sick with worry at what his fellow heroes may be enduring at the moment, but he wasn’t going to let them in on that fact and face the music he’d so deftly avoided.  

 

The downside was that he was left to his thoughts, alone in a way he hadn’t been since this whole new adventure started. Wind hadn’t realized how heavily he’d depended on the others’ background noise and hovering and constant presence until it was suddenly unexpectedly gone . The world felt as big as it had on his adventures alone, looming again when he’d gotten so accustomed to the warmth and comfort lent by his brothers. They were out there, somewhere, but he had not a clue where to look. Link hadn’t even shown him the map, or mentioned any locations at all. 

 

Maybe Wind’d end up talking to Impa after all, if it could get him a lead on the others. 

 

It was after a long, tense, stretch of minutes spent thinking himself into a hole that he realized he’d never even gotten a chance to tell this Link his name, or anything of importance. 

 

Shit.  

 

Well, then. 

 

Wind’ll just have to hope whoever Link picks up next doesn’t let something too upsetting slide. At least it’s still gone arguably better than the other’s introductions, even he did kind of lose their newest hero.

 

He was going to come back, and he’d have one of Wind’s brothers with him. It’d be fine. 

 

With Link’s help the Chain would be reunited, and they’d go from there. 

 

It would be fine.  

 

It would be. 

 

Wind sat there, heart-wrenchingly alone for the first time in a long time and painfully aware of it. He tried to muddle through the overwhelming anxiety to figure out what to do next when he felt electricity suddenly rise in the air, heralding the thunderous crackle of the portal building. 

 

His heart jumped into his throat as he shot to his feet.

 

They were back.

Notes:

Wind, about to fake cry: hey watch me play this rube
Wind: *taps his real emotions, realizes there’s an Actual Problem*
Wind, actually crying: oh shit oh fuck I played myself oh god

Wind: How DARE you call me ‘kid’
Also Wind when trying to get his way: I’m just a BABY
Wild: Okay, but I still need you to-
Wind: I’M JUST A BABY

Paya: Oh my god the child fainted HE’S OVERWROUGHT
Cado: No, it’s fine, I’ve seen Link do this before, he just Needs a Minute
*cut to Wind, laying face down in bed listening to Black Parade on repeat*

Wind, left alone after fainting: Damn that worked like a charm, why didn’t I think of that
*imagines the rest of his big brothers flipping their absolute shit as their youngest collapses -for no reason or from prior sickness or injury, it would make no difference*
Wind: Oh yeah, THAT’S why

 

The truth is out- I’m actually quite terrible at ending chapters when I don’t have an easy transition like passing out on a shrine teleport, haha.

This first chapter didn’t add a whole lot of new material past Wind’s POV because, well, there hasn’t been any time for anything to happen. As we descend further, there’ll be much more previously unseen shenanigans being brought to light as the Links have to wait longer and longer at the shrine. There will be different POVs in a single chapter in the future- Chapter 2’s going to have both Four and Wind, since Four himself won’t be awake the whole time, so I thought I’d give our windy sailor boy a little more time to shine instead. It’s not the prettiest or most flowing format but I like having the two fics be a 1:1 chapter ratio, at least until we get to the later chapters with much more added material. This baby’s probably going to be longer than Follow the Lights, at least for chapter count. What… a…. Blast…

As I’m posting these alternate POV chapters, I’m doing some minor editing to Follow the Lights as well- if you care to look back over there, you’ll notice some changes and some very small tweaking to some of the text to make it flow a little more smoothly. Maybe adding a sentence or two for more descriptions. Nothing huge though, just a little bit here and there. Chapter 1 probably got the most switched up, only because the original tone was very much more casual than the whole fic ended up being, so I made it fit the general mood more closely.

And yeah, Wind got out of being grilled by virtue of being young and ill, lol. The Sheikah figured they can wait until Link brings back another traveler from their group to explain instead. Joke’s on them though, Four’s super unconscious too, and also looks baby.

Can I just say, there’s nothing more fun than coming up with the soul-bond descriptors. When I’m doing it I try to blend several different senses, or do a specific emotion in a very specific setting (fav example: the slow motion horror of watching an egg roll off a counter). This is the exact kind of mischief me and my work friend throw at one another over Teams on slow days. And with that, here’s a participatory prompt for those interested:

I can only come up with so many soul-bond-feelies, and I’m also plain old curious so-

If you have any sensations/emotions/general vibes you’d like to see, let me know! You think that Legend should give off strong Absol vibes? I agree, lessgooooo~

I’ll try to sneak them in, or at least give them an honorable mention! They don’t even have to be for a specific Link- I’ve got a few that are still a toss up between a couple members myself.

Stay groovy~

Chapter 2: That Chilling Feeling that You’re Not Alone

Summary:

Four is shaken, not stirred and Link gets Polar Plunged

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Hypothermia

Time until Wild Contact: About 15 minutes (Around 3 PM)
Chapter spans: ~45 minutes
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 2

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POV Four: Made a fork once, was (is) inordinately proud of it; it’s hung above the mantle in a place of honor below the two most ornate of the swords he’s made

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Four’s initial interest in the portals and how trans-dimensional travel worked had very quickly taken a backseat to the discrete, intense dislike he harbored towards them. He only had to go through once to realize it wasn’t a fascinating, easy trip at all despite its serene appearance, and that it wasn’t going to get any better with practice, at least not for him. 

 

This portal was no different from the rest, at least not until he stepped through at the end. Four had stepped through with no small amount of trepidation on his part and the normal, low-grade concern on the rest of the Chain’s. Heat rose like a summer wind around him as he passed the threshold, flush with the familiar flavor of Hylia’s magic. A pressure rose with it, fast, pressing upon him with an urgency that quickly passed into pain, then agony, before breaking all at once in a sweep of cold, taking with it all the boundaries of his mind. The neat compartmentalization of Blue-Red-Green-Vio- S h  a d o w   Four’s mind just… vanished, thrown into complete chaos as the four Colors were cast apart as if from the epicenter of an explosion.   

 

They scattered about, the typical disorientation of the split made all the worse by the foreign impetus of the act, and the overwhelming nature of transdimensional travel already without amplifying it four-fold. 

 

They were lost, there, asunder from one another and blown apart in the fathomless infinity of the space in between. Those interminable moments, filled with unspeakable cold, bone-throbbing star-song, and millions of millions of universes all laid out like a tapestry whose whole picture couldn’t be comprehended, and the underlying fear of what if I cannot find the others all swirled into a storm of emotions and noise and ache of a mind trying to understand what they should never have experienced before as mortals. 

 

And then -moments years seconds eons later- they were suddenly all there again at the exit point, and in the moment where they were thrown back into the body stepping out in a new world, Four once more came together. 

 

Well . Was thrown together. Drawn together, like powerful magnets crashing into one another and jittering raucously as they tried to ricochet from the force of the collision, pulled back together relentlessly in a clattering crash. Four minds tossed into a box and shaken until they all fell back into their slots, upside down or not.  It was horrible, and it got no easier with practice; moving through the portal was too discombobulating, too much an attack on their perception and functionality to allow for them to organize a better, easier recombination. 

 

Splitting and rejoining with the Foursword wasn’t painless, but it was more the healthy ache of stretching an overworked, sore muscle. The portal doing it felt more like ripping a limb out of joint and jolting it right back in. No finesse, no care given. Quadruple the confusion, quadruple the nauseating overload of alien sensations, quadruple the physical symptoms brought on by a form of travel no mortal -Goddess blessed or no- was supposed to experience. It was no surprise that Four found themselves so often crippled after going through a portal, whether by a migraine or partial paralysis or simply passing out.

 

The beauty of it was the momentary reprieve before it all hit- a moment of shock as all their minds crashed into place, the second before their body realized oh, that was too much and, overwrought, gave way under the pressure. 

 

It’s still so cold , Four thought vaguely in technicolor, before a spike drove itself through their skull and there was no room for any of them to think anything at all.

 

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Four was dragged back to consciousness slowly, and with all the heel dragging of a hylian enduring great pain and terrible cold. He instinctively curled himself into a tight, shuddering ball against the freezing temperature even though the stone underneath was no help; the fangs set against his skull eased their grip as he awoke, but refused to fully recede. As his hearing gradually notched into place, the ringing gave way to an unsteady crackling whine. 

 

He breathed a pained exhale as his head flared in agony, then was promptly forced the rest of the way to waking as the zapping crescendoed with a crack that sent literal shocks running over his skin, fluttering his muscles faintly as he scuttled backwards on blind instinct like a crab, only registering light and electricity as he mindlessly tried to gain a safe distance from the source of the sound and pain. 

 

The small hero promptly slipped over an edge, falling for a heart-stopping second before he hit solid ground with a pathetic yelp. The stone surface continued to zap above him, electricity running threateningly along the worn, patterned pedestal he’d fallen from, and he quickly backed off even further as stray bolts licked outward at him. 

 

What the hell is that? Lavender wariness as he flicked his gaze over the odd conical structure, brightly lit and furious with energy still. The attention quickly diverted into emerald unease as he looked around and found himself alone, with no sign of any of the others, nor anywhere they could have gone- he barely noted it was a small, snowy island, before clamping his eyes shut as a muddle of thoughts washed through their mind.

 

The Colors tangled up within him, tripping over one another and jostling each other’s thoughts off their tracks before finally falling silent, each of them determinedly listening to the sound of rushing water nearby. There were a few false starts; Four hesitantly opened his eyes again only to get bowled over by a green-red lash of dread-soaked curiosity, tried again a minute later only to fall to his knees as Vio and Blue accidentally kept changing each other’s thoughts, their frustration and rage quickly building past what Four could tolerate. 

 

It was cold, deathly so. They didn’t have time for this. 

 

They all knew it, but the knowing was no use to them, not when it was very clear -and yet so hard to wrap his-their-dammit Blue get out of the way - 

 

The tangled mass of thoughts fell away. 

 

It seemed this time the portal had left them physically fine -headache aside- and instead left the Colors tangled mentally, a condition that was no less crippling. None of them could gather a thought without dragging someone else into it, and once they were knotted up neither was any use. 

 

It was infuriating, terrifying, invasive for all that they were parts of the same whole- there were no secrets between them, but to feel their very minds get tangled together once more…

 

Even if there had been a way for Four to revert back to the way he was before he drew the Four Sword, before he was split, he wouldn’t have chosen it. He couldn’t have; for all the troubles that came with sharing a body between four minds, for all the downsides to his condition and the rough days where it was all too much between all of them, to get rid of them would feel like killing them. He didn’t remember what it was like, anymore, being alone in his mind. 

 

He didn’t want to remember, not if the cost was the Colors’ existence.   

 

This time, when Four shakily lifted his head, their thoughts managed to remain coherent, though shaky- like a radio caught between stations, both playing at once in joined poor quality. There was no sign of any of the others, he noted wearily, chafing his arms about his chest, breath shuddering as shivers shook his frame. Sharp eyes darted around for a few moments before the storm of useless arguing settled and they were able to properly assess what he saw. 

 

Absolutely alone and rather fucked , he thought with lapis-oak leaf dread, a glance about enough to tell him that there was nowhere for the rest of the Chain to have gone, though he doubts they’d have left him alone if they’d arrived with him in the first place. Four took in the ice-slicked island that currently held him with wide gray eyes, scanning over the fast moving river on all sides and the white mass of ice and snow that overshadowed him. The ground was thick with ice, clumped in gleaming ripples where water had splashed up and frozen, creating a slick, treacherous spread of ground. 

 

Nowhere for him to go, either. He shivered harder, cursing his thin layers and lack of winter gear- none of his adventures had involved climates cold enough to warrant special gear, and he could already tell that the temperature was low enough here that he was going to be in serious trouble fast if he couldn’t find his way to shelter soon. 

 

Vio started to list off how much time they had, the stages of hypothermia, before Red accidentally drowned him out with a wash of panic and if it won’t help I don’t want to know! They both rolled away in a mess of hissing and crying that only exacerbated Four’s growing headache and sense of disorientation, Blue only just managing to rein in his growing agitation before he dragged Green into another knot as well. 

 

Hand held to his pulsing head, Four carefully got to his feet, boots sliding before they snagged on a ridge. He eyed the strange building with no small amount of wariness as it zapped and shone with aggressive brightness, a near-personal attack on his watering eyes and throbbing headache. Four picked his way around it as far as he could, only edging a short ways along the side before giving up; all that was behind was more river, and a narrow band of earth around the base lost beneath a foot of treacherously slippery ice. 

 

His thigh seized as navy caution welled up in response to his wavering too close to the ledge of the shore, all the Colors following suit in agreement that proved almost worse than conflicting thoughts as his mind was wiped of everything but the sudden, overwhelming drive to get away from the water.  

 

Four scrambled back with such blind desperation that he fell on the slick ice, nearly cracking his head open and almost falling in anyways for all his uncoordinated flailing. In the end, he crouched in a shivering, fearful mess, riding the tide of hushed apologies buzzing through their mind. 

 

He took a single minute to count down and breath, trying to find his calm and gather them all together again at least long enough to get through this

 

We can’t split , came a lilac murmur dappled in green despair, almost drowning out the broad crimson banded question it answered; We know how to fix this, why-?  

 

Giving the odd, zapping structure as much space as he could, he leaned around the sloping walls of it, squinting along the arching sides and ceiling of the frozen cavern behind it in case there were any holes or paths to be found there. Four had the Roc’s Cape, but without a place to land it was no use being able to jump farther; he searched, but found nothing except sleek featureless walls and rushing, frigid water. 

 

He felt the first true sparks of crimson panic rising their way above the general unease. Four didn’t know how long he’d been out, but it was more than long enough for his body to already be going numb and stiff at the extremities, for his reflexes to dull and slow; his breath clouded the air with increasing frequency as his breathing picked up, panic growing as he took in his surroundings, eyes flitting for a way out, to no avail. 

 

The only escape would be downriver; he could just make out a tall shore down where the overhanging ice opened up, though he’d have to go farther yet or find a way to climb the river-slick vertical to dry land. Snow, it was more snow , Blue whispered with growing agitation that ended in an indigo snarl. It’s too far for the Roc’s Cape , Green interjected, and they barely managed to present the vague declaration of swimming as their only option ( still a bad one , in distinctly sapphire disgust) before their words fell apart into incoherent overlap and a rising urge to scream. 

 

We can’t, Red whispered fearfully, even as Vio’s indistinct, It’s only a faster way to die lashed out over the rest of the muddied swirl of anxiety. 

 

Clumsily kneeling close to the shore, Four carefully dipped a finger into the water pouring along the shore. Pure ice, and he recoiled back, face pinched in wisteria panic. 

 

We’d never make it to shore, Vio said lowly with devastating assertion. We’d be too frozen to swim in seconds, and drown long before we made it to shore. 

 

Four’s head spun in fearful rainbow eddies, the Colors too present and tangled still from the portal to keep their emotions quartered off- at this rate, he’d have to split regardless of the dangers just to be able to function, or to have any chance at all of working a way out.

 

It wasn’t dissimilar to the trouble he had when he waited too long to split; the way their current state of disconnect and disastrous inability to get on the same page and stay there was crippling Four’s ability to think at all was a familiar problem, and one he’d only been able to solve by letting them split and resettle as individuals before joining back together. 

 

This went beyond even that though, in the disintegration of their mental divisions; they didn’t usually have problems with the Colors’ thoughts bleeding into one another’s and muddling them like two inks on wet paper. Here and now they weren’t just disconnected and chaotic, they were crashing into and overlapping with one another, a sensation unique to the awful, excruciating experience that was portal travel. It was that difference - and the extrinsic source instead of the intrinsic one that stems from putting off separating his Colors- that made him wonder if splitting would even fix it, or if it would just let them…freeze faster, in equal confusion and dysfunction. 

 

Four ( Green-Blue-Red-Vio ) could already feel his thoughts slowing, could catch the muzzy edge blurring along the tangle of emotions and worries that pointed to a clock ticking down. 

 

Judging by the vicious shivering and icy temperatures, he didn’t have long- for all the bonuses of a small body, there were at least as many drawbacks, and one of them was heat retention. 

 

Red’s thoughts tripped over one another as he rushed to get them out before someone else tainted them beyond use, We could split and share body heat?

 

Vio’s wordless frustration, backed by Blue and Green as they did their best not to wash the whole discussion away again. I-We told you -

 

Crimson desperation, an irrational need to be with his brothers but not like  this, not tangled in their brain matter and crushing their thoughts underfoot-  I know, but-!

 

The sentiment was shared, and welled up threateningly between them as Four doubled over with a weak, shatterglass moan, shuddering in the cold.  

 

No, we’re less… hmm… sturdy as individuals. Any benefit of additional body heat would be outweighed by the increased fragility of our split forms , Vio said, his cold delivery betrayed by the waver in his voice at the end.  

 

Blue immediately snapped back, his voice a lashing snarl.  We can’t just do nothing! 

 

That’s all we can do. You saw yourself, there’s no way off that’s not a sure death. Our best chance is to wai- Green’s placating suggestion was lost in a chorus of cries as Four was doused with a painful blow of icy water that sent him staggering back and falling as the ice turned completely frictionless under the wash of water. His already thin clothes were suddenly twice as dangerous, clinging to his already cold skin and leaching what heat he had out into the sub-freezing air. 

 

He-they-HE couldn’t think, were torn four different ways and barraged with four hylian’s worth of panic and confusion-

 

Last thing we need-grab the sword!-find cover- cut our time in half- can’t give up

 

Grim pine-needle determination tangled them all up and let the whole color-splattered mess fall to the side, allowing Four to run on well-honed mindless battle instinct alone. 

 

He breathed in a gasp, registering the pain flaring across his chest from the direct hit as another blast of water shot above him. Blinking to clear his blurred vision, he followed the line of trajectory, searching among the frothing waves futilely for a minute before the creature popped its head up again, scanning for him before rearing its head back for another potshot at his prone, shuddering form. Four grappled for his shield, fingers refusing to bend, blue at the tips already as he managed to wrangle it in front of him in time to block another vicious impact that had knocked his back against the pedestal. Water sprayed over the edges, splashing to douse him and the ground around him. 

 

There was a flurry of muffled, indistinct thoughts, all of them screaming at Four to get out of the line of fire before he’s completely soaked through- and well, there’s less general consensus than four different minds converging on the same conclusion: there was only one source of protection on the island. 

 

He scrambled awkwardly onto the raised stone floor, unable to get his feet underneath him as they dragged behind him, numb and tingling painfully as if asleep. He barely registered the pinprick pain of the electricity skittering delicately over his skin as he rolled himself inside the building, tucking his small form into the zapping wall, choosing meager warmth over the dangers of electrocution. 

 

He shivered and twitched, huddled as close as he could to the energy-heated walls, but soaked with icy river water as he was and surrounded by arctic air, he could already tell it wouldn’t be enough on its own. There was, at least, no further shots fired from outside, and he dared not peer outside and risk drawing attention to sate his curiosity. 

 

There was nothing to do now but wait and try to quell the colorful clamor threatening to rip them into four as the stress and portal jump and rising panic and confusion all prevented them from finding any semblance of unity within themselves. Their hands would be fisted in their hair if they could get them to move anymore; as it is they pressed them tightly against the sides of their head, shivering and twitching as the electricity granted them a teasingly insufficient amount of heat. 

 

Their clothes started to freeze, their hair growing stiff with ice. The internal din died down somewhat as the confusion grew and coherency began to give way, the stream of solutions and scenarios slowing to broken sentences that faltered halfway through, the conversations completely disjointed as four minds suffered their body’s falling internal temperature. 

 

Head injuries and delirium had always been worse for Four than the normal person, the effects being amplified by the existence of multiple inhabitants all experiencing the symptoms together. They blinked heavily, rolling their head back and looking with confusion at the arcing lights around him. Brows furrowed, Four tried to reach a hand out to touch one of the zapping sparks, utterly failing as their hand did little more than flex in its loose fist. 

 

What is this? Blue-Green thought disjointedly with muted worry, Vio’s whispery mauve concern washing over without words. 

 

There was a crimson murmur about fireplaces and winter that faded to sapphire mumblings about licking metal poles. Four’s head rolled around and forward again as their eyes fluttered, thinking of little else except cool toned-suffering as their body froze in the subarctic temperatures. They tipped over and crumpled onto their side without a sound, still save for the jittering of their narrow chest with rapid shallow panting, cyanotic lips parted with each small puff of air. 

 

Four had arrived fifteen minutes ago. He wouldn’t last another ten. 

 

The crack and rumble of the stone around him was registered on a distant delay, his eyes flinching shut as the lights skittered over the stone with renewed fury and brightness. His muscles quivered in a sad facsimile of shivering as the bolts danced over him, doing nothing to protect himself from his surroundings. It was so cold it hurt, burned, as if he could feel every individual cell being stabbed by the ice crystals tearing them apart. 

 

 The sound calmed down as quickly as it had amped up, and in the subsequent, comparative quiet he vaguely recognized a breathy grunt and groan, hylian and not escaping his own throat. That was…important? That was … and it slipped away in a muddy muddle of frustration, before there was suddenly a juniper bloom of realization. Rescue. 

 

Four jerked, stiffly rolling himself onto unresponsive arms, only just managing to raise his head on a wobbly, unsteady neck and squint out the entrance, ice crackling along his eyelashes as he tore them apart where they’d frozen together. There was a figure there, clutching their head as they lay on the ground. Four caught the monstrous chuff and following wet cough, only just  managing to rip a slurred “Watchout!” from frozen vocal cords and unresponsive tongue before the hylian was sent skittering back against a rock by a cannonball of water. 

 

The strange rescuer  shook off the impact, drawing out a bow, and the arch of it finally tickled something awake in the Smithy’s cold-slowed mind and sent Four scrambling for his bag. He pawed through it with clubbed hands and a wavering objective, forced to search visually with no sensation in his frozen extremities. But there, metal rimmed yellow,  he used one hand to force the other’s numb fingers to wrap around it-

 

Four lurched upwards, watching with wide, unfocused eyes as the other hylian fired a clean but ineffectual shot as the monster - a lizard? Time had… some… simila r- came darting onto land. 

The heavy, full plumes of thought were nothing now but thin, wavering crayon scrawls across the blank canvas of a fading consciousness. Red had gone silent, throbbing a blank dark burgundy in the background, and Green was only radiating out vague mossy emotions that withered and died away as they sprung up. Blue was the most vocal, offering up fragments of sentences and thought still, only to cascade into furious, fearful deep water confusion each time he lost the thread. Vio was a small presence condensed tightly within himself, but at the familiar weight in their hand he stirred, and Four reached for the muscle memory in one sliding moment-

 

The boomerang left his hand, and it was a poor, straight line throw that left him falling to the stone once more as his muscles failed to correct for the momentum of his dead-weight arm- Four’s eyes weren’t focusing, weren’t tracking the rapid rush of the monster as it zig-zagged over the ice, and his hand released in a convulsive twitch that snagged the boomerang as he threw it, and yet-  it careened forward to rap edgewise against the monster’s head, all the mistakes somehow adding up to a weak hit that served its purpose. 

 

More startled than hurt, the creature flinched back as the boomerang hit the ground awkwardly and bounced back towards it, harmless but alarming in its oversized, obnoxious yellowness. 

 

Four felt his lips curl into a smile, cheek smushed against the icy stone as he tried to stay awake, trying to find the strength to get up… and… 

 

He should stay a w a k e - 

 

It was as he was trying to sluggishly coordinate his stirring legs that the other hylian managed to blow himself up and into the water, screaming monster following shortly behind. Vio didn’t rally enough to swear, but he did snap himself shut with a bitter flare of plum-wine rage that ended up bleeding resignation into their exhausted mind. Blue screamed, a blazing lapis flare of frustration as Four watched the monster dissolve and the hylian pop up a ways down, the current carrying him quickly away. 

 

He let his eyes fall closed, felt the fragile heat of a tear build up and fail to fall past his burning, freezing eyes. Blue was furious, roaring and pulling at Four in incoherent demand to follow , forcing him up until he was kneeling, until his blank stare suddenly registered that the hylian wasn’t being swept away, but surging closer in slow but steady progress. 

 

Oh. Oh , they had a chance, if he could make it back. Four fell off of the stone pedestal as he lurched forward, clawing his way towards the shore with eyes fixed on that blond, bobbing head as it dipped underwater, rising each time with determined resolution. He beat Four to the shore, scrambling uselessly on the slick icy slope in uncoordinated movements, skin waxy pale and  lips blue with cold.

 

Dragging himself closer, Four reached forward -not bothering to rise from where he lay stretched on his stomach- and tried to grab for the other, failing completely when his unmoving club of a hand refused to unclench. A high-pitched keen ripped from his throat as he curled an arm around the soaked hylian’s elbow instead, power bracelets letting him hoist them out of the water with blessed ease, leaving them both fall backwards onto more stable ground. 

 

Four collapsed into the airy snow, reserves empty, thoughts almost too numb to process his success, nonetheless what it meant. In his mind Blue fragmented into smug joy spiraling into loopy satisfaction, Vio settling deeper into Red’s puddled thoughts with lavender relief, Green sparking with hope. Four murmured their thanks to the Goddess, whispered graciously that it wasn’t too late, slurred to his brothers that he’d see them soon. 

 

Crackling ice drew his scattered, fading attention, his gaze snagging on the painfully blue eyes of the other hylian as he dragged himself closer to Four, frosted eyebrows creased in concern. All of his hair was freezing, actually, the soft blonde being gradually limned over with ice in the freezing temperatures. He looked afraid, and Four may be dizzy and tired -the cold starting to fade away to a background discomfort, distant enough now that it wasn’t excruciating- but he still cared enough to force a slurred “A’ight?” from his numb lips, only belatedly remembering that the other had fought the strange lizard monster. He made a half-hearted attempt to sit up, but fell still again after only a feeble shift, head rolling limply on the ice as his eyelids began to weigh down once more. 

 

Four was tired . 

 

They fluttered weakly as he was pulled into a hug against the other’s chest, not registering heat so much as a distant pressure across his body as they curled around him. Four twitched, only barely catching the end of the other’s concerned statement, broken by chattering teeth and blurred by his own ice-hazed mind; “-ou’re w-w-w-orse off than m-me,” the other claimed, and Four slowly managed to shake it around in his head before finally falling on confused.

 

“M not ‘ven shiv’rin’?” He argued weakly, for the painful, exhausting muscle tremors had stopped minutes ago; his head fell to land upon their chest, breath stuttering unevenly. In the dark, deep-water haze of their mind Vio suddenly jerked like a rope pulled taut, muddled alarm oozing thick and slow as they panicked, bad and dying rising from his amethyst presence sluggishly. 

 

“Ohnoo,” he moaned unconsciously, eyes unseeing as they flickered in an attempt to stay awake. “‘Sbad,” he rasped softly, barely more than a rough hiss as his hazed mind realized he was in danger, yet. Confused and afraid, he flailed in the stranger’s hold, no thoughts past escape in his mind. But their body failed them, weak and frozen and exhausted. 

 

His breath skittered out of control and Four closed his burning eyes, reaching inside for comfort within the Colors there. The normally whirling, rainbow mesh of thought and personality was inert, now, and colorless, each of the quadrants of Four’s soul still and quiet, only Blue still humming a weak, fading song. There was a weak tug from the soul bond nexus, a single line of light shining bright, like a shard of sunlight off water. 

 

Four curled in close, dizzy and sick and longing for comfort. Sensations ran down the bond, his fading mind only acknowledging cascading water-a cloak snapping in the wind-childlike wonder , the feel of the mind unfamiliar but welcome. He leaned harder into it, panting, as the distant cold suddenly seared in a different way, the bite of temperature almost burning against his skin. 

 

He breathed out a groan, shifted in short twitches as the heat built until he couldn’t stand it, pawing weakly at his shirt in an attempt to remove it, his skin burning like fire. His companion said something, dropped him to fall forward, where more heat seared at his face as it rested on the ground. “‘S hot,” he gasped in short twitches, still trying to claw off his clothes in an attempt to cool down, to find some relief from the burning pain that surrounded him. He continued, slurring out a plea for water, for coolness, for mercy, before finally fading out, consciousness wavering unsteadily. 

 

For a moment, it was gentle, and Four began to ease into the darkness. 

 

Then there was a sharp flare of heat beside him, awakening every nerve with all the vicious burn of scalding water. Four arched away from it with a hoarse scream he didn’t have breath to fuel, twisting and curling futilely against the iron hold keeping him trapped. Then he caught the taste of magic, burning on his tongue and scraping over his skin before the world wrenched around him and swallowed him up. 

 

He was gone before it even spat him back out, too tired and in pain to continue fighting. 

 

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POV Wind: H as caught a fish with his bare mouth in the ocean; yes, it was as cool as it sounds ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Wind was wrong . Link and his passenger weren’t fine at all ; not when the Sailor got to them and certainly not by the time Link ended up leaving again, despite Wind’s protests. 

 

He had gone sprinting out of the house he’d been sequestered without being stopped- oh, he’d have liked to see them try though- tracing down the side of the cliffside until he found the mouth of the path leading up to the crackling, lightning-riddled shrine. By the time he’d staggered to the top there was a hand under his elbow supporting him: he distantly registered the woman as the one he’d ran past in the house. His vision was going spotty at the edges, warning him that fifteen minutes hadn’t been long enough to recover from whatever the fuck the shrine had done to him, resting in a bed or not. There were two groups gathered there already, a pair around Link, who was slumped exhaustedly against a guard, and-

 

Four.  

 

The little Smithy looked terrible, and for a second Wind felt his heart stop at the sight of the small, blonde figure lying so still. The thin cracking of ice as they broke off his frozen clothes made Wind flinch with all the visceral horror of the sound of breaking bones, because Wind lived on the ocean and it wasn’t always summer there just because he had a beach for a backyard.

 

He’d heard of the dangers of being wet and cold, knew how easily fingers and toes could be lost when they were damp with seaspray and left too long in the cold of a brisk winter night while toiling away on deck.

 

Wind stepped forward, not sure what he could do that they weren’t already but feeling like he had to be there, had to help, as if him doing it was better than strangers, despite knowing that wasn’t true. A hand fell on his shoulder, holding him back from where they were swaddling Four’s slender body in blankets, stones tucked in alongside him. He spared barely a glance back at a pale-haired woman, but remained to the side, twisting his hands together as he watched them help his still, silent brother. 

 

Oh gods, Four was the worst one to be stuck somewhere cold- their Smithy got chilled so easily, always ended up bundled in the other’s spare coats everytime they wandered into a cool climate or the wind bit too sharply. For him to be this bad in the short time they’d been gone- he didn’t want to picture Four somewhere that cold, disorientated as always from the portal and alone and freezing without any of the solutions he was so good at puzzling out. 

 

And Wind realized something suddenly, as he watched them all with their prepared treatments for hypothermia and frostbite, laid out and ready in a way that would have taken longer than the two minute run he’d taken to get here after the shrine went off. They’d known, or at least known enough to have been prepared, and him? What had he done?

 

The Sailor was immediately stricken with guilt, and horror, because clearly they’d known something he hadn’t bothered to ask- how else would they already have the blankets and bucket with the warmed stones prepared? And all this time, he’d just been laying in bed feeling sorry for himself?

 

He went from wringing his hands to digging his nails in sharply, the familiar, bitter sense of too-young-to-know-better rising within him. It had always been fine for mundane things, like cooking or how to get stains out of his clothes. But when it came to admitting he didn’t know for the important, adventure-to-save-Hyrule kind of essentials…

 

Wind never felt more insecure than when Wars had to sit him down and walk him through proper first aid after the Sailor had struggled trying to help treat one of Twilight’s wounds. It made him feel young, and inadequate, and unprepared, made him face the fact that he was all of those things but had been left to do his best regardless.  

 

Wallowing in self-pity, he thought with self-directed fury, was a childish mistake to make. 

 

He was snapped from his roiling emotions by the man moving from Link’s side to offer a potion to Four’s caretakers. It was strangely glittery within the bottle, and he turned to watch Link drink his own as well, realizing with even more self-recrimination that their newest hero wasn’t unscathed either, shivering viciously and frozen in his own right. He began to work off his own clothes, falling over and eventually just wriggling on the ground to work his way out of them and into the dry clothes he’d summoned from… air? Was it a storage bag, like the rest of them had? 

 

Wind started to move to help, only to stop in horror as Link’s torso was bared, exposing the vicious burn scars lashing across one side of his body. He’d seen those that reached in over one cheek, creeping down his neck, but he hadn’t realized -

 

He doesn’t know how Link could have survived these burns and yet here he is, twisting around despite the thick, angry mats of scarring that show how nearly a third of his body had been seared by something . They must have healed well despite their appearance, because it didn’t appear to hamper the other hero’s movements or cause him pain, fortunately. 

 

No, the scars weren’t hurting him at the moment, but those bruises beginning to bloom across his back sure must be. One of the male sheikah noticed as well, stopping Link as he went to put the fresh shirt on and looking more closely at the blood pooling under skin too pale with lingering cold. Wind sent another look at Four, being steadily fed the potion provided by Link, then inched closer to the new hero, listening keenly for the answer as the man asked, “What did happen, Link? You were gone for maybe ten minutes. I thought you were just going to pick Wind’s friends up and come back?” 

 

The other hylian grimaced and wandered closer to crane his head at Four, watching for a moment before seeming satisfied, if worried. Wind found himself relaxing as well; the other hero seemed to trust in the care being provided, and he didn’t come across as inexperienced himself in the survivalist field, if his preparedness said anything. 

 

Link answered easily, frowning slightly in consideration as he continued watching Four.  “He wasn’t in the water, but there was a lizalfos hanging around that managed to surprise me and knock me in. I assume it got him with a water jet too; if he had been knocked in like me I don’t know how he would have made it back to the shrine with the current being so strong and no gear against the cold.” Wind went cold, thoughts stumbling to a halt at the realization that Four could have just… been gone. Link could have gone to the shrine ten minutes after they arrived, and found nothing, their Smithy already dead and drowned, frozen and still underwater. Distantly, he registered Link continue on in a gentler voice. “How is he, anyway? He was talking, but not coherent. Thought he was hot there, at the end.” 

 

Wind’s eyes snapped back to Four, taking in the way his breathing was already better, the color rising once more in his skin. One of the Sheikah around the Smithy answered. “He should be alright, from the sound of it. He’s out of the cold, but he was at least awake when we gave him the potion, if not making much sense.” 

 

The man near Link turned to Wind, tone softening as he addressed him. “The kid one of your companions, then?” 

 

And before Wind could say anything, mind still scrambling to keep up over his worry for Four and for their newest hero and what to say without saying too much, Link was jumping in, seemingly without a thought as he struggled to put on the shirt atop damp skin. “Not a kid,” he claimed, surprisingly correct for someone who’s apparently only had half a conversation with a delirious Four. 

 

Wind feathered out a feeler and let himself be bolstered by the reckless adrenaline rush- wave froth over river rocks-rust battered sword in hand that answered mindlessly. It was enough for him to get his footing again, to steady himself once more. 

 

“Yeah, that’s Four,” Wind confirmed slowly, still staring at Link with bemusement. “Link’s right though, I wouldn’t call him a kid; he hates that. He’s seventeen, and he gives like, one freebie on the ‘kid’ comment  -‘cause he knows he’s short- before he starts taking names.” Wind couldn’t help the fondness in his voice, because Four was a badass who was short and proud of it, even if it did have its drawbacks.

 

Link’s head tilted, eyes bright as they reflected the shrine’s electric burn. He hummed, then did a double take at Wind’s intense stare. “He doesn’t look like a kid, height aside. Awfully nice of him to give even one freebie, honestly,” he said, looking discomfited at the Sailor’s fierce concentration upon him. 

 

Wind stared skeptically at him. “I don’t think most people would call Four ‘nice’.” Ope, better not smack-talking him when Link had nothing to go off of so far as their gentle teasing goes- “Not that he isn’t!” He waved his hands quickly, because if Four finds out Wind badmouthed him to the new hero he’d have his kneecaps, ‘nice’ or not. “He just doesn’t come across that way? Like Legend being an asshole, but less extreme.” 

 

And now the new guy’s going to think Legend’s an asshole, too. He is, but very much less so than he’d like the rest of the Chain to believe. It’s alright, though. The rest of them play along with their Veteran’s affected grumpiness; he doesn’t need to know they’ve clued into how mushy the Veteran really is once you get past his sharp tongue. 

 

The Sheikah tried to nonverbally cue Link, before finally giving up at the hylian’s innocent, clueless stare. “Hearty elixir?” He asked pointedly, looking tired. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how your hair’s not just wet with water. I’ve seen you take on packs of monsters- how did one lizalfos manage this ?” And he gestured at all of Link, who blinked in response, bedraggled and shivering and bruised. 

 

“It was a silver lizalfos?” He laughed nervously, before drooping somewhat.  “Okay, it was a mix of bad luck and the monster being seriously overpowered. My arrow practically bounced off of it, for Hylia’s sake! It was also faster than I’ve ever seen before, as if lizalfos weren’t wicked fast in the first place. Add to that the ice covering everything and there you go,” Link said simply, gesturing a hand over himself with a flick of the wrist. 

 

Wait, that sounded familiar.

 

“Overpowered?” Wind said, perking up with intent eyes. “We’ve seen that before, it’s part of why we’re here! We’ve been following the black blooded monsters around, fighting them. We’re pretty good at it, if you ask me,” he bragged, because they were amazing at it actually, and he couldn’t wait to blow Link’s socks off. 

 

The other hylian ruffled his hair again, and Wind closed his eyes in bliss for a moment before pulling away, cheeks flushing. Link obligingly pulled back, the movement twitching and his breath catching as if in pain. Wind’s ear twitched in acknowledgement, but he promptly tabled the issue as he realized suddenly how that must have sounded to Link, when he apparently had such trouble with just one monster. Especially since it wasn’t a case of the other hero being a poor fighter, probably- the infected monsters were exponentially stronger than their normal-blooded counterparts, and if Link was unfamiliar with them he could hardly be blamed for being underprepared and overwhelmed.

 

“I mean, usually,” he amended for the other’s sake, wide eyed and genuine. “If they took both you and Four down then the others might be in trouble…” The thought didn’t help soothe Wind’s renewed fear for the rest of his family, caught somewhere strange with infected monsters apparently present at the shrines they may have landed in. 

 

Link picked up on his ramping anxiety, that dreamy voice taking on a soothing tone. “You said you’re all used to this; give them some credit, kid.” 

 

And it would have let him feel better, if it hadn’t instead almost set him off at the last word instead. He was happy to let Wars and Time and Legend refer to him as such, since they very much knew he was far from truly being a ‘kid’. But Link? He had no way of knowing what Wind could do, or had done. He hadn’t earned the right to call him kid, because coming from him at this point in time  there was no way for the Sailor to know he didn’t mean it in a condescending way. 

 

They’d work up to it, Link’d get there eventually, but until then- “My name’s Wind,” he declared boldly, before remembering there was more to it then that. He’d never been the one to bring a new hero into the fold before, and he suddenly fumbled for what to say next, where to start without sounding too crazy. “Er, well it’s Link, actually, but since all our names are Link we have nicknames to help know who’s talking to who.” Solid start, good job!

 

“All eight of you are named Link?” The older hero seemed puzzled, but receptive enough, considering what the chances of such a claim were, except in the case of a Goddess’ intervention. Wind nodded, but Link seemed to take it in stride easily. “And you go around fighting monsters, huh? Should I expect an invitation to join anytime soon?” He said laughingly, expression relaxed and open. 

 

Wind grinned, shouting, “Yeah! We’d want you to come with us! You’re a hero and everything, and if the monsters are a problem here then that means we’re in the right place for now-” Link shifted his weight and flinched, Wind abruptly remembering that Link hadn’t ever actually drank a potion for his injuries in spite of the Sheikah’s reminders. 

 

No, Link had called him Cado earlier, use it to seem more knowledgeable of the situation- one of Warrior’s tricks for feigning authority or in Wind’s case, maturity despite his young appearance. He adopted his most stern older brother expression, long perfected on Aryll’s free spirited rebel nature. “Cado’s right, you should take something for that. I have a red potion, if you need one?” 

 

He immediately started searching his spoils bag, hoping he hadn’t made a promise he couldn’t keep, but then Link held up another of those odd, shimmering potions and, tilting it to him like a smartass, drank it down. It was easy to see the difference immediately; the other’s shoulders fell from their taut position, though the furrow between his eyebrows remained. 

 

Link picked up where they’d left off with barely a flicker of hesitation. “Yeah, we’ve been seeing a lot more of the stronger monsters showing up. The last time it was like this was the Calamity, so everyone is pretty on edge that we’re starting to see the same problems again when it’s supposed to have been defeated. It’s only been a few years, and the seal on Ganon was supposed to last for centuries at least.” The other hero was clearly worried, and Wind couldn’t blame him; if he found out his Ganon had been revived after only a few years of reprieve, he’d be freaking out.   

 

Link shook his head, frowning heavily. “Whether it’s Ganon again or not, it’s a big problem, and it only seems to be getting worse. I’m glad to hear your friends are used to fighting them, at least, but just to be safe it’s best to collect them as soon as possible. Especially since they’re all scattered and alone.” His voice was brisk, and he quickly looked at his interesting stone once more before drawing out thick clothes in another display of magic, similar in feel and appearance to his teleporting ability. 

 

Wind watched Link throw back yet another potion with growing alarm, starting to wonder if the hero could possibly be as fine as he was trying to appear if he was drinking so many in a row. Link offered a potion of the same color to Cado breezily. “Here, I’ve made spicy mushroom skewers with Koko enough times that she should be able to cook some with these. For when Four finally feels up to food, yeah?” 

 

Wind felt a burst of pride and glee at the way Link remembered the Smithy’s name, in spite of everything that had happened. It was very much in contrast to the intense concern he was feeling, having watched him down three potions in as many minutes. He watched the other hero add layers and grab the stone again, and suddenly realized that Link really wasn’t going to be stopping for so much as a second.

 

 “Wait, you’re leaving already?” He said with no little alarm, lips drawing into a concerned frown. “You were hypothermic too, and hurt besides! Not as badly as Four, but you shouldn’t be heading back out, even I can tell!” Even now he could see the way the other was too pale under his tan, lips yet to recover their healthy flush, and the way he was bundled up it was clear he was heading somewhere cold again, far too soon for Wind’s liking. 

 

He took a breath, trying to reason with the older hero. “At least take me with you- you should have someone to back you up in case you come across more black blooded monsters.” He tried not to consider what that implied of the condition of the hero waiting at the shrine, but, well…As Wars always said, ‘hope for the best, prepare for the worst.’  

 

Link barely spared him a glance. “I mean, the next shrine is right by a talus, so I don’t know if it can even be ‘black blooded’, but with any luck your friend will have stayed close by and I can get in and out in no time. He wouldn’t have trouble with it unless he tried to hike down the mountain. And no,” Wind opened his mouth to interrupt, but the other bowled right over him. “You can’t come with me.” 

 

He closed his mouth indignantly, before opening it again to ask, “I- what’s a talus?” Wait, focus , “And your little disclaimer is exactly why I should come with! Why not be extra careful and bring another hero along just in case? What if it’s stronger than normal too? The two of you may not be able to take it on your own!” Wind stepped forward, face scrunched in upset, because the other hero didn’t know , hadn’t fought enough infected monsters to realize how bad it could get, how fast it could go downhill without backup. 

 

There was a reason Hylia was gathering all the Heroes of Courage together, and it wasn’t because these monsters could be taken down by one alone. 

 

Link stared at him hard, before sighing tiredly. No. No, he wouldn’t- “Look kid,” he started with a tone that gave away the refusal. 

 

Oh fuck no. 

 

“My name is Wind ,” he bit out through gritted teeth. 

 

Link winced, but powered through regardless. “Sorry, sorry . Look, Wind- even if I did think it was a good idea to take back-up, I wouldn’t take you. I would take Cado, or Dorian, trained guardsmen I’m familiar fighting with, who knows what they’re up against. But I’m not going to do that, either,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic. That didn’t change that he was doing something stupid. 

 

Wind advanced a step. “But!”  

 

The other hero slashed his hand through the air sharply, shutting Wind up with an, “Ah ah, no. Not because I don’t agree with you, but because the more people hopping along on the transport the harder it is on everyone involved. I’m already pushing it getting seven other people back here; I can’t exactly afford to have extra tag alongs. I want to save all your friends, and I can’t do that if I don’t take this risk.” That smooth tone was brisk, but not unkind. 

 

Wind can’t claim to understand the mechanics of Link’s transporting ability, but he’d been around enough magical items to know about energy cost. If that was the concern here, then he’d have to trust that Link knew what he was doing, that he knew his own terrain and monsters well enough to handle whatever awaited him. 

 

If the choice really was between making it to all the shrines and heroes in question or bringing along extra people and risking not having the energy to get to all of them? Well. “Why not just travel on foot for those who are closer? Or I could too, I mean all I need is a map-”

 

But Link was already shaking his head with a rueful look. “They’re spread pretty far out- even the closest one would be at least a day and a half’s ride on horseback. Teleporting is much faster and safer, without having to worry about monsters on the road or arriving too…slowly.” His head drifted to the side, mouth drawn in a disappointed frown. 

 

Damn, then. 

 

“Fine,” Wind agreed begrudgingly. “I won’t ask you to wait, not if they might need you now. But at least take these, in case you need them. If you don’t, you can always give them back to me later, but you’ll need them more than I will here.” And he shoved an armful of potions and fairy bottle at the other, about the only thing he could do to help. “I have more, don’t worry,” he said warningly, when Link looked ready to refuse. 

 

The taller hylian juggled them for a second before handing back the fairy with a determined look. “I already have three, so I don’t need this one, but thank you. I don’t want to risk you needing it and not having one, while I’m left with so many.”

 

Wind gasped as they all vanished in a tangle of lights, fascinated by the casual use of something so cool. Still staring avidly at the innocuous flat stone, he forcefully stated “I have so many questions for when this is all done.” 

 

Link smiled at him cheekily, eyes glinting mischievously. “I promise to answer at least three of them.” 

 

Wind cried out indignantly, “Only three?! What are you, a genie?” That was barely anything! There was no room for warming up with easy questions! There’s only two things Wind can do with three freebies; soft ball it so as not to overstep his boundaries or go hard and corner poor Link with his own promise. 

 

He glared up at the other, who only chuckled good-naturedly before giving in. “Tell you what then, I’ll answer at least three from each of you. Twenty four total questions. But if you want someone else to ask one of yours that’s on you to work out. That good enough?” 

 

A silly facade to hide a more serious promise. 

 

Wind went to respond before suddenly there was a flurry of activity around Four; his heart flew into his throat for a moment before he realized the Smith was being sat up, gray eyes open, though blurry. His breath caught, relief flooding in as an almost painful reprieve from the low-grade fear of seeing the smaller hero so still, so pale. 

 

The Sailor took an unconscious step towards him before remembering Link, about to leave and with an offer on the table. Wind was smart, he’d find a way to coax or trick or beg at least some of the other’s questions off of them. He spared a grin, boldly accepting. “Twenty four questions would be amazing, Link. Make sure you come back safe so you can answer them all soon, okay?” And if his tone was a little uncertain towards the end, well. Link owed him now, and he had to stick around to keep his word. 

 

The other hero nodded amicably, seeming perfectly cheerful, and Wind watched for a moment longer before heading over to Four. Behind him, he felt the tell-tale swell of that strange magic once more, before it left, taking Link and his warm presence in the soul bond with it. 

 

Wind couldn’t help but feel less confident in Link as he vanished this time- not for ineptitude, but for the questionable self-preservation that he was beginning to feel was running a little short of the average. It was with an uneasy sense of foreboding that he instead turned to Four, who was very much still out of it as he blinked at Wind, smiling belatedly and with more openness than the Smithy typically showed around strangers. 

 

He settled next to him, determinedly elbowing his way to his side and pressing in close. The adults allowed it, even going so far as to tuck Wind into a layer of Four’s blankets; the Smithy was cool, but at least shivering now, skin gradually shifting from pale pallor to a less heart-stoppingly pale complexion. 

 

He may still get sick, but he was certainly out of danger of dying from cold, and in a village where treatment was available for any ails that could befall him. That meant Wind was left to worry about Link and the others, now, and all of a sudden it was just too much, especially with one of his brothers finally here with him now. It wasn’t just strangers with whom he had to worry about them seeing him as nothing but a child- this was someone he trusted down to his bones, with his life and misgivings and fears. 

“I thought I could handle this on my own, but now I’m not so sure,” he admitted quietly to Four, who blinked up at him with vague confusion and growing protectiveness, for all that it was clear he was still too out of it to understand what exactly was upsetting their youngest. Wind leaned their heads together with a soft sigh. 

 

“I’m glad you’re alright, Four. Things have been… weird and bad,” he said anxiously, before remembering the banter with Link. “And good, too, but I- I’m just glad you’re here.” He admitted, all too aware of how singularly unhelpful and worrying all that was. 

 

In spite of how shitty he had to be feeling, Four still managed an impressive shadow of his usual judgemental face, underlaid with uncertain concern still. “‘S nonsense, Wind” He managed in a tired, bleary tone, but the Sailor couldn’t help but laugh in relief at how normal it was. 

 

“Sorry, don’t worry- it’s fine. Just focus on feeling better, everything is… under control,” he settled on, giving Link the benefit of the doubt at least until Four was well enough to turn his razor sharp mind on the problem at hand. The Smithy squinted searchingly at him, before deciding to trust in his words, snuggling in closer to Wind’s warmth with a sigh as he closed his eyes once more and drifted off. 

 

The Sailor closed his eyes too, feeling hot tears press threateningly at the corners as he once more quailed at the enormity of everything that was still in the air, everything that could still go wrong in the worst ways.

 

Gods, he hoped he wasn’t made a liar. 

Notes:

Everyone else: Dude wtf was with this portal? It was awful
Four: Just another day passing through the hell void on my way to work

Wind: I got this, no problem
Wind, the instant Four’s even halfway conscious: oh thank god you’re here everything is FUCKED

 

Paradoxical undressing is an odd concept right up until you run across something so cold it sears like a heat burn- Liquid nitrogen I'm looking at YOU.

The portals are interesting in that physically, all that’s happening is the Chain stepping into and out of it, but the space that would appear vertically flat in one plane and the other is experienced mentally by the Chain as a kind of wormhole between worlds. They’re ‘moving’ through it, but to them it’s perceived more like they’re disintegrated at the entrance and their atoms are flown through time and space and reformed in perfect conjunction to step out at the other side.

It’s jarring, for some more than others.

I’m going to tread very carefully here in terms of how the Colors are going to be interpreted, prefacing it with the usual disclaimer of ‘This is how I’m picturing it as I write, but feel free to see it from whatever perspective or spin makes you happy’. This is being offered solely as additional explanation for anyone curious about how I ended up finagling him for this particular story.

I wanted to be able to work with the Colors as active voices in Four’s mind, but also have a reason why -past keeping their secret- they wouldn’t /always/ be split. Prior to the FourSword, Four identified as a sole individual; that was changed by the magic of the sword splitting him, giving each of the four Colors dominant aspects of his personality. They are stronger when united as Four, and weaker as the individual Colors; he is more than the sum of all of them, but they are still only quarters of a whole. That said, they are very specialized in their weapons and individual skill sets as the Colors, so that makes up much of the difference.

They’re still slower, weaker, and have less stamina than Four, though, which is why they don’t just split up for every fight despite the advantage in numbers. /Since/ they’re only part of a whole though, they do actually recover quicker when split, either from injury or sickness, because each Color only has to do a quarter of the healing for when Four rejoins. If he’s sick or injured and splits, it’s an absolute shot in the dark as to which Color’s going to get what- it’s not evenly divided between them all or anything, necessarily.

For my headcanon I also like to think that they can’t stay continuously split for too long or stay as Four for too long without serious repercussions. Four himself is the overarching personality, but each Color has a voice as well. Over time, they’ll get more and more out of sync; this can happen over weeks or days, it just depends. Stress can make it worse, but that’s not the only factor. On the other hand, when they’ve been split for awhile -again, time varies- they gradually get more and more focused in on their aspects of Four’s personality. For example, at the beginning Blue’s still protective, yes, but he’s not one-dimensional. That changes if they stay split too long- their decisions, their actions, their emotions all start to revolve around that character trait, whittling them down to nothing else. In this example, Blue would become overprotective to a /fault/, becoming increasingly obsessive and covetous and unstable, using that term in the literal sense of being unable to stand on his own when he’s one pillar among four that comprise Four. Until they rejoin and rebalance with the other Colors, it’s gonna be a shitshow.

They’ve never let it get that far, and from their experience adventuring apart it would take a long time to get that bad, but… the fact remains. If one of them were to die, it’s less that the others would immediately follow then that it would be that slow deterioration as the whole withered away for want of a quarter of its being. They were created by magic; they’re component parts of an individual, not meant to function on their own. Four switches between he/him and they/them pronouns depending on the degree of cohesion between the Colors, but all of them use he/him.

Shadow is his own thing, so these rules don’t apply to him.

See you next chapter, and take a moment to chill if you haven’t had a chance to slow down in a while. <3

Chapter 3: Blorbo Acquired

Summary:

Sky reverse-imprints on the newest hero. This will cause him no end of grief in the adventures yet to come.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Blood/Violence, Vomiting

Time until Wild Contact: About 1 hour and 15 minutes (Around 4:00 PM)
Chapter spans: 1.5 hours of shenanigans
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 3

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POV Sky

=============

 

Sky isn’t traditionally skilled with magic, but he likes to consider himself an expert on recognizing Hylia’s particular flavor of it, what with dating her mortal incarnation. So when the normal interdimensional jiggliness of the portal suddenly fizzes into static and electric fuzz, he knows something is up, even if it isn’t necessarily malicious- the holy power that drives the portals had been proverbially tackled by this strange magic, but had responded as one would to an overeager puppy; fondness, exasperation, placation. 

 

Would that Sky could agree. 

 

He stumbled as he was thrown from the portal as if a hand had shoved between his shoulder blades, lightning crackling harmlessly over his thick clothes and armor, dancing with peppery zaps along Fi’s handle. He staggered down a step onto the thin layer of snow, knees wobbling as he continued to sink all the way down, slumping back across the stone platform dizzy, and light-headed, and-

 

Sky jerked back to awareness, head lifting from where it had lolled back, the ringing in his ears gradually fading away. Heart racing as he realized he’d honest to Hylia fainted in an unknown location, alone , he checked around him for any signs of danger, slowly rising to his knees when his head remained clear and his balance steady. He thoughtfully drifted a finger over the buckles of his baldric- cool, but not as cold as the ambient temperature yet; he must not have been unconscious long at all, then. 

 

Phew . He whistled a soft, relieved breath, a habit he’d learned was endemic to Skyloft once he’d spent more time around the Chain. After that, the more avian of his articulations had rushed in a renewed flood of bird pun-related nicknames that he had laughed off with appropriate grace, charmed by the affectionate teasing.

 

 Goddess above, but he hoped they were alright. He was alone, so it was a safe assumption that they had all been separated, but at least the interfering magic had been benign, if jarring in the effects of its intervention with the portal. 

 

Rising to his feet, Sky swayed dizzily for a moment, blinking into the clear sunlight as he gauged how he felt before unsteadily walking clear of the zapping structure and resting his hands on his knees, swallowing heavily as he fought down the nauseous flipping of his stomach. A minute passed, his careful, even breaths letting him drift into a calm state, quelling the sharpness of his sickness to something more manageable.

 

The Skyloftian breathed deeply, then paused, eyes opening as he testingly took in another breath. Standing straight, he looked around with wide, shining eyes, taking in the familiar high altitude point of view, the clouds stretching beneath the mountain he was perched atop. His breath flared before him, thin air clean and crisp and cool in his lungs.

 

 Laughing, he preened in the hazy high mountain sunlight, tilting his head upward in bliss. Bubbling with bittersweet contentment, he gazed down at the land sprawled beneath him, trying to puzzle out whose Hyrule he’d landed in. 

 

Sky was terrible at parsing the differences between each of their worlds, generally easy-going enough to be content to wait until one of the others recognizes their Hyrule. He wondered for only half a minute before giving it up as a lost cause, and likely unnecessary. Of far more interest and muted concern was the strange building he’d landed in front of- he’d never seen anything like it, nor heard any of the others describe something similar. It crackled angrily, hissing like an aggravated remlit as the sparks hit the snow. 

 

Sky warily gave it more space, keeping it in his periphery as he perched atop a rock and soaked in the view, taking a moment to relax and catch his breath after the jarring portal trip. His clothes were designed for high altitude chill, his sailcloth settled snugly around his neck as the familiar nip of brisk air and frolicking wind reddened his nose and ears, bringing a healthy glow to the soft curves of his face. 

 

He doubted someone would come along here at the top of the mountain if they weren’t already around, but he could easily find a ledge to leap from as a shortcut to the ground. For now, though, he relished in the familiar feel of up high and above ; when he closed his eyes he could almost imagine he was back home and higher still, the electric crackling behind him a campfire’s logs snapping in the heat, the distant cry of a bird an errant loftwing. 

 

Fi chimed softly, stirring at the soft longing blooming in his quiet introspection- she didn’t speak much anymore, only giving sleepy acknowledgements every now and then, like a dreamer rousing at a sound only to drift off once more.The familiar sound -quieter though, edges gentle as seaglass where she’d been sharp as a broken mirror in the beginning- only worsened the sentimental reminiscing, overlapping painfully with fond memories. 

 

Almost , he could fool himself, and bittersweet nostalgia rose thick in the back of his throat, nestling wetly at the corners of his eyes with a warm heat. Ah, but he missed Skyloft with all the throbbing ache of a broken bone. He missed the quiet, teasing moments together with Zelda, the unintrusive depths to which she knew him, the quiet twisting dance of their loftwings flying together in courting spirals.  He missed Groose’s all-encompassing hugs, the way the larger man could wrap his warmth all around him, the chats they’d shared and plans they’d made to combine Sky’s carving and Groose’s carpentry skills into fascinating, lovely inventions. He wanted to lay his mark upon the other’s works as he’d promised, wanted to hold Zelda’s hand again, kiss her one more time.

 

It felt like a betrayal to the rest of the Chain, felt like belittling the time they’d have together as nothing more than an unwanted interlude, an inconvenience, and it was anything but . 

 

Sky wanted ever more time with his brothers, wanted them safe and happy and content, in whatever form that took. He wanted space for them in his life in Skyloft, wanted to break time and distance so they wouldn’t leave him once this enemy was defeated. He wanted the guarantee that he would make it back, that the cost of meeting the echoes of his soul in all the others and getting to be part of the glorious whole as they rang in resonance together wouldn’t be his life. 

 

He wanted it all, selfishly. He would fight for it in whatever way he could, would leverage Sun and all her powers as the Goddess incarnate, would plead it of Hylia herself in all her burning glory. Sky would stand as a god-slayer before Her, and though he may not ever be able to bring himself to voice the threat it would be there regardless. 

 

Sky would wrench their happy endings into place with his bare hands. He would do anything for these men, these heroes, these boys who curled around his heart like they were part of it. Anything . He would do anything and everything for them, because after the lives they’d been forced to lead at the Goddess’ hand ( as the cost of Sky’s failure), he could live with no less from himself. 

 

He’d give up the promise of a future in the life he loved if that’s what it took to protect them from grief. 

 

He didn’t realize how tightly he was clenching his hands until a resonating pulse from the strange building made him startle, spinning to a crouch with a hand on Fi. Eyes the shade of a summer sky narrowed suspiciously as he warily crept closer, drawing Fi silently as he watched a figure form in shining strands. They coalesced into a hylian, fiercely backlit by the glare of the zapping building and the ribbons of lights that had made them, striking a proud figure for a moment as the lights that had brought them there faded. 

 

The second their form settled they were crumpling though, the building’s rabid lightning swarming their body with abandon, sending them twitching and staggering ineffectively as their knees refused to hold their weight. Their faltering steps took them to the edge of the pedestal where they collapsed into a shaking pile, one arm falling to droop over the edge, jittering in the air with muscle spasms. Sky’s breath caught in worry despite himself at the audible thump marking their unceremonious contact with the stone, at the boneless, twitching sprawl of their limbs as they laid there, prone and passed out amongst the vicious electricity.

 

His arm throbbed in memory at lightning’s tendency to bite deep and burn long. 

 

Sky felt Fi stir, resonating as if in a purr, even as he felt the ephemeral trail of sensations across his mind that he’d learned was indicative of one of the incarnations of his soul nearby. Almost, the non-physical feel of a sprout determinedly emerging from a shorn tree trunk to live again, overlaid by the ever familiar simmering soul-deep refusal to pass over a person in need of help could be brushed off as his own wandering mind for it’s subtlety, were it not accompanied by such a strong sense of understanding, a proverbial resonation along the unseen bond between the soul they shared. 

 

Sky was running to them before he even realized it, slipping to kneel beside the hylian’s curled, spark ridden body as they gave a weak, broken moan and were sick. Colors lashed out across the canvas of snow, strangely glittering and glowing like lava, and his concern sky-rocketed as he realized that it was an array of potions they had thrown up. Their newest companion let out an indistinct whimper and collapsed fully, nearly face-planting off the pedestal before Sky quickly caught him, gently pulling the unconscious hylian farther away from the zapping stone structure and onto his lap. 

 

Their head lolled back loosely, revealing the finely-structured face all the Links shared, though his was softened still by youth. Vicious, old burn scars marred the outer quarter of his face, the injury having marred the hair on that side a few shades paler than the rest near his face, extending down to disappear under his clothes. His complexion was dead white under the tan of his skin, lips colorless where they laxly parted.  Harvest gold hair fell stiffly along his back in a low ponytail, glittering with frost and rigid, half frozen where it was slicked to his skull. He was shaking in Sky’s arms, muscles twitching unevenly and giving way to great, shaking shivers that wracked his frame. It wasn’t just cold , Sky realized with concern as he clutched him tighter into his hold, draping his sailcloth over the tremor-ridden youth. In his arms the new hero felt small under the bulk of the insulating clothes, and Sky felt a familiar protective surge rise up within him. 

 

Ah, another one then, he thought with faint joy, the happiness of the realization tainted by the suffering of the companion in question. Fi roused at the swell of mixed delight, giving a shiver of what he would have called laughter, had it been from anyone except the stoic sword spirit. And yet, she seemed as glad as he did, though the reading off of her was still muzzy and sleepy. 

 

She’d come so far from the distant, apathetic being she’d first appeared as; she had been mercilessly logic-driven at first, and better as his adventure went on and she acclimated to human interactions and all the nonsensical emotionality of their needs and motivations. In her short but poignant encounters with his reincarnations he had seen how she became … subtler over time, a softer hand than she’d used on him. Part of it was the slumber that hindered a more active role as she’d played for him, but the rest? Well, he liked to think it was fondness, familiarity. 

 

The quiet buzz of affection’s distant relative hummed gently from the Master Sword, and he smiled softly. 

 

The look fell into a concerned mieue as he looked down at the other Link, worriedly noting that their shivering wasn’t stopping, though thankfully the spontaneous muscle spasms were. At least the electricity hadn’t had any lasting side effects then, hopefully. Wherever he’d come from must have been cold as well for him to arrive already frozen, and the top of an equally chilled mountain was no place to warm him up. 

 

He looked out, trying to gauge how high up they were; he couldn’t glide down now, not with an unconscious passenger, but- 

 

“Should I walk him down? How far down is the snow line, do you think?” Sky wondered aloud, and Fi stirred, more active than usual, drawn to more heightened awareness with the presence of a new hero yet awaiting their title from her. 

 

:Descent is the best option: she… not said , not in words, but in a vague thought-like transmission that communicated the conclusion regardless, his own familiarity with her speech patterns filling in the gaps. :Hypothermia, stage I, condition would only decline in current location. Suggestion: establish warmer setting : 

 

“Right,” he breathed. It was nothing he would not have done already, but his concern was doubled by the confirmation that their newest companion was in poor condition. “Up we go,” he said with affected cheer, arranging Link in his arms and rising to his feet. He gauged the weight, assessed the burden on his body, and concluded both that he would be fine for now and that he would need to find a way to fatten Link up in the future.

 

Sky took one last look at the soaring view before turning to the path. “And down we go,” he murmured resolutely to himself, gently tucking Link’s cheek against his chest and settling the sail cloth tighter around him. Having swaddled the freezing hylian as best he could, Sky started off, sparing a moment to be glad the snow was both light and thin on the ground, easy to step through. 

 

He carefully picked his way downhill across frosty stones, wary of dropping Link should he fall himself, or risk landing on him. All the slopes veered to the ledges, coated in slick, hardened snow; if the unconscious Hylian rolled at all, Sky risked losing him over the edge of the mountain for lack of being able to catch him and stop himself once they both had downhill momentum.

 

Then he’d have to jump on after, and figure out a way to hold him and use the sailcloth. Maybe a leg grapple? 

 

It… would be a quicker way down… 

 

Fi gave a buzzing negative, shaking in his back teeth like a scolding. No, the mechanics of it would be too complicated and he wouldn’t risk further injury when Link was already in a delicate state. Sky brushed off the absent line of thought, but tickled back at Fi, relishing in her semi-consciousness even though he knew it wouldn’t last long. 

 

“What do you think, Fi? He’s a little under the weather, but I like him already! He did come to a mountain through that… whatever it is for me,” Sky said into the cool mountain air, pausing for a moment to stick his tongue out as he cautiously placed his boots across a particularly sloped, shining stretch of smooth stone. 

 

He laughed quietly to himself, glancing down with soft eyes to the prone hero. “And his mind feels like hope, and courage. He’s nice, I bet! He’ll fit right in!” He declared optimistically and with full faith in his first impression. 

 

To be fair, the soul-bond was a bit of a cheat. 

 

Fi didn’t glorify his cheery musings with a response, but that didn’t deter Sky from his gushing. “In hindsight, it’s pretty lucky to have him come to us. What would you say the chances of him knowing where the others are is?” 

 

:Chances are very good that whatever alerted him to your location would similarly allow him to know the other’s as well: she provided, nonsensical sounds coalescing into comprehensible thoughts within him. 

 

“What, no percent?” He teased with a laugh, fully aware that her habit of doing so had fallen by the wayside as she realized humans didn’t weigh things as simply as she did, in numbers and cold-cut calculations- that there were far too many soft, intransient factors based in human psychology for that to be an effective means of decision making. He smiled discreetly at the low grade friendly exasperation that wafted through the connection they shared -her acquiescent :76% chance, then: feeling amusingly off-the cuff- before reconciling with, “But hey, that’s pretty good! Let’s hope the odds are on our side, yeah?”  

 

In his arms, Link stirred and let out a soft groan. Immediately, Sky swayed to a stop and gently knelt down, legs folded beneath him. His eyes were glued to the other’s face as it scrunched up, pain obvious in the set of his brows and down turn of his lips. He brought a hand up, cupping a frigid cheek, fretting over the still-too-cold skin under his palm. 

 

“You with me now?” He checked, voice low and soothing, watching as those flickering eyelids finally cracked open, brilliant lapis blue peering out and focusing on him. Sky’s lips tilted up, and at the brush of dragonfly wings flitting in a flurried rush-the crisp crunch of breaking an apple skin- laying atop sun-warmed stone against his mind let a full smile bloom across his face. He soothed a thumb over Link’s cheek as he peered groggily around before the slow blinks finally ceased and he weakly let his head fall back against Sky’s chest with a thin exhale. 

 

Unnoticed, Sky’s smile fell, his heart squeezing in worry, though he was careful to keep his voice even and gentle, trying to coax an answer from the clearly dazed hylian. “I was worried there when you first appeared; it looked pretty violent with all the lightning. I mean, I know I felt pretty sick when I arrived here but you were twitching, and you didn’t stop even after I pulled you out from the electricity. You stopped when you passed out but… how are you feeling now?” He coaxed, feeling out for any hints Link was otherwise injured in a way Sky hadn’t noticed already. 

 

Those heavy lidded eyes stared uncomprehendingly at him, some failure to process the question clearly going on as the Skyloftian waited for an answer, stomach sinking as the seconds passed. No, Link wasn’t alright, not if the unresponsiveness and impaired faculties were any sign. The Skyloftian pursed his lips with an unhappy hum, turning to his bag to grab a red potion- clearly something was very wrong past mild hypothermia, and he wasn’t taking any chances with their newest hero. 

 

He was quite attached already, and if the glad manner in which the dazed hylian leaned into his comforting touch was any indication he’d just gained another cuddle-companion. Sky was by no means touch-starved amongst the Chain, but, well… he’d merrily accept and dole out any human contact he possibly could without trespassing on the other’s boundaries, having practically no upper limit to what he’d gladly accept with all the blissful rabidity of a puppy.

 

Sky was not afraid to invade a sleeping roll, not if he felt any hint of welcome across their soulbond - resigned or not Legend, suck it up and accept the hug .

He sifted past empty bottles and one green potion he tried to keep on hand for Legend and Hyrule, glass clinking loudly as he rustled through the cluttered jumble to no avail- his mental inventory had been correct, and he had no healing potions left on him. He exhaled a measured breath through his nose, lips pursed, uneasy at the lack of an easy solution to the problem that rested in his lap, already almost unconscious once more. 

 

Link let out a shuddering breath as he shivered, making an uncoordinated attempt to sit up and nearly falling over in the process, too unsteady to hold himself upright. Sky was quick to tighten the arm he had around him, turning his attention from his futile hunt for a potion back to give the young hero a scolding stare. 

 

He doubted it was effective- it couldn’t be, not when he could feel the slant of his eyebrows shift from stern to worried as he scanned over Link’s face, taking in the pale cast and sunken eyes, settling uneasily on the too-wide pupils as they wavered out of focus. “Feeling alright?” Sky asked dubiously, providing an easy opening to get a better gauge on some of the other’s symptoms. 

 

His hand drifted up and shook, bobbing through the air with unclear purpose. Sky watched it tremor and fall bonelessly into the snow again with wide eyed horror, lips pressed tightly together in dismay. “‘M fine,” Link demurred in a crackling murmur, eyes drifting shut again. 

 

He looked distinctly Not Fine. 

 

Sky felt his ears pin back in agitation, eyes sharpening. “You were unconscious in the middle of what was effectively an electric storm,” he said in clean, carefully enunciated words, making sure to keep any sharpness clear of his tone. 

 

Those bright eyes slit open and slanted him a devilish look he certainly didn’t appear to have the energy for, pale lips twisting into a wry smile. “So were you, I bet. ‘S not so uncommon, for a first time travel to a shrine.” Link’s pronunciation may have been indistinct, but the wry teasing as he called Sky out was perfectly clear. On one hand, it was comforting to know that at least their reaction to the… shrines ? That the shrine’s teleporting was normally harsh enough that Link expected it. 

 

On the other hand, any relief of concern that fact may have graced him with was stamped out by the very obvious manner in which Link was suffering far worse than Sky did. And it certainly sounded like it was something one acclimated to, so Sky would have expected Link -as hero of this world- to be long used to it by now. 

 

So… why was he so sick, then? 

 

Sky dipped his face down in thought, uncertain and worried. Link’s head slumped back, sending Sky’s heart racing with fear for a second before realizing the other was still awake, quietly speaking. “Thanks for getting me away, though. It’s not fun for anyone to wake up in the shrines right at the moment, not when they’re like this.” His voice was tired and hoarse, and Sky winced in sympathy. 

 

His lips curled down unhappily, and the Skyloftian let his voice pitch even lower than usual as he fretted. “You still don’t seem all that well, especially if you’re supposed to be used to it. You’re right, I fainted too when I got here, but not for long. A minute, maybe- the buckles on my bag weren’t even chilled yet.” 

 

Sky gave his head a little shake, expression pinching in distress. “You, on the other hand- your complexion is awful, and you’re still out of it- don’t think I didn’t see how much trouble you had focusing,” he accused fiercely, hugging the other closer as Link shivered again.  

 

The other hero turned his face into Sky’s tunic seemingly without thought, pressing his cheek in close as he murmured, “Yeah, it shouldn’t be this bad. Definitely something funky going on with those shrines past the light show.” A slow, bleary blink. “‘S gonna suck, getting all your friends,” he sighed, and Sky’s ears jumped forward in attention. Link moved to sit up once more, and Sky only held him stubbornly tighter. He had just said he was worse off than he should be, honestly . 

 

The younger hylian settled back with a huff that turned to a cough as his throat snagged. He tilted his head to meet Sky with marginally clearer eyes, a twinkle of mischief present. “Link, I presume? I’m also Link, nice to meet you,” he said amicably, sending up a bright smile that did nothing to hide the exhaustion all too plain to see on his features. 

 

Sky wrangled with the upset that fought to show on his face before finally letting a smile bloom, the genuine pleasure at meeting another Link winning out. “Hello, Link. You can call me Sky,” he offered easily. “I suppose that means you’ve met the others? Or some of them, from the sounds of it.” His thoughts raced ahead- there’s no way any of the others would let Link go if he looked like this, which left a handful of explanations available. Link could have just hared off, or he could have been fine until landing, the shrine truly affecting him that badly. On the other side of the matter, whomever of the Chain he’d left behind could have been in no condition to stop him, or otherwise unable to do so.

 

His gut twisted in anxiety at the thought, but he listened quietly as the newest hero wavered his hand about with a thoughtful hum. “I noticed the shrines acting weird and went to investigate at Kakariko Village, where Wind had landed. He mentioned he was traveling with seven others, and that’s how many glitching shrines I’ve got so it didn’t take a lot to realize where you all vanished off to. He filled me in on your group, and I’ve been hopping around to pick you guys up, since some of you landed in places that aren’t… necessarily hospitable.” Sky tried to meet Link’s eyes, but the other averted them sharply, looking to the side with thoughtful determination. “I’ve already gotten Four -he landed in the middle of Hebra, but he’ll be fine- so you’re only the second… er, third if we count Wind-, that I’ve recovered.” 

 

A small sound of acknowledgement escaped Sky’s lips, and Link’s eyes finally flitted back to meet his, big and sad and forlorn as his voice took on a distinctly apologetic tone. “Sorry, by the way. I know the shrines aren’t fun at the best of times, and right now they’re particularly brutal.” He patted at Sky’s chest before rolling upwards once more, slowly enough and with a clear enough gaze that the Chosen Hero allowed it, letting him clamber off to sit beside him. He wasted no time wrapping an arm around those narrow shoulders, covering him once more with the sailcloth and drawing the smaller hero close. It earned him a half-hearted haughty huff, which he brushed off easily with a grin, glad to see a little more life returning to the other. 

 

It was good to hear the others were if not safe, then at least on the road to being so. Link knew where they were, and that was more than Sky had dared to hope for- it meant they could split up, or go as a group to gather the rest, so Link didn’t have to take the burden fully by himself. “I’m glad to hear Wind’s alright- he’s our youngest and we all worry about him,” Sky admitted, before hesitating. “You said Four, too? What happened there?” He was wary of pushing too hard, but he had to make sure- Link had said Four was fine, but what was ‘Hebra’, and how was it dangerous?

 

Link answered easily enough, though, and with no great worry, though his tone was serious. “He was caught in the tundra, got soaked by a lizalfos before I arrived. He should be fine; he was awake to drink some spicy elixirs and soup when I left.” Sky felt his face smooth out in relief- even if Link didn’t recognize the bonds he shared with the Chain on a conscious level, he would never be able to so casually disregard true mortal peril of those whose soul he was so connected to. Four must be doing well enough that Link wasn’t overly concerned: therefore, there wasn’t likely cause for Sky’s concern, either. 

 

He trusted the young hero already, even with something like this. 

 

“Good, good.” He sighed shakily, feeling some weight fall off his shoulders. “And the others, do you know where they landed? Are they in danger too?” He inquired, trying to get a grasp on the urgency of the situation.  

 

Link pursed his lips consideringly, before answering quietly, though assuredly. “Not if I get to them fast enough, they won’t be. And the shrines themselves are safe except for the weather, so as long as they don’t go far they should be alright,” he said, as if he expected the band of irrepressible heroes to stay put and wait for rescue. 

 

So maybe… it wasn’t as bad as Sky feared, but also not as cut and dry as Link seemed to expect. 

 

Then his attention snagged on a specific part of what Link had said, which was directly at odds with the ill hylian beside him. “Shrines… the glowing building, yes? They don’t seem that safe to me, between the electricity and the general sickness from using them. Is it usually better, then? Safer ?” he asked pointedly, because if this was considered alright by the other he should know now, rather than finding out later that their newest companion’s idea of ‘safe’ and ‘normal’ are skewed. He gave Link a blatant onceover again, heart squeezing at the sadly shivering visage. Sky was drawing him close and curling around him without thought, taking pity on the dazed look he was getting; the younger hero’s sad state was more than answer enough for him. 

 

“I hope so. It’s not how we’re getting out, is it? I don’t think you’re up for another transport yet, and I’m not looking forward to it myself either, if I’m being honest.” He said in a genial tone that bore no argument, for all its subdued cheer. He nuzzled a cheek against Link’s hair, carefully hiding the flinch at the texture and temperature of the icy strands. 

 

They need to get out of here to somewhere warm. 

 

Exhaling through his nose, he declares, “Come on, I’ll carry you down below the snow line and you can fill me in on what’s going on.” Without waiting for an answer, he draws the other hero into his arms again, rising easily and giving an easy shake to settle his chainmail and sail cloth properly. 

 

Link argued, of course, but it was weak at best. His voice was thin as he tried to talk Sky out of it, saying, “No, we don’t have to walk down. Here, it’s just on my slate, we can head out now- there’s a shrine right by the village I can take us to.” The lean teen wriggled in his hold, making a move for something before Sky clamped down determinedly. 

 

No way in hell was he letting Link transport them away when he was still suffering the effects of one shrine visit. He started walking, easily toting the wiggling hylian along, paying no attention to the soft, plaintive whine he emitted. 

 

Link nearly flopped out of his hold, and Sky took a moment to readjust him with a single slight toss. “Oh no you don’t,” he chided. “If those shrines are making you sick then we’ll at least wait until you’re fully recovered to use them. I can take us down just fine; I-” and here he stumbled over his words a bit, a tad embarrassed but too late now to do anything but forge ahead- “was only enjoying the view up there anyway.” 

 

He could feel the flush in his cheeks, was aware of how it sounded, and decided he’d rather be sentimental and sappy in Link’s eyes than lazy or air-headed. “It reminds me of home, is all. I lived up high too and it’s been awhile since I had the chance to visit.” He could feel his eyes softening, fond memories tinged with sad longing.  

 

Link’s voice was bemused bordering on petulant, but not unkind as he spoke- Sky spared an amused, unseen quirk of his lips for the tone, even as he eyed the ground before him for the safest path. “I’m… glad, but look- It won’t be fun, teleporting, but I’ve still got several of your friends to gather up. The longer we wait, the higher the chance they wander into- woah!” 

 

His concerns broke off into a muffled shriek as Sky’s boot slipped and he instinctively clutched the other close, curling around the already weakened hero as his balance wavered about before he managed to still once more. Breathing a relieved sigh, he sent a withering glance at the stone behind them, this angle letting him see the shine of ice across it that hadn’t shown as he’d approached.  

 

He eased up on his grip at a soft wheeze from his passenger, laughing awkwardly, discomfited. “Heheh, sorry. Carrying someone downhill is a bit tricky in the snow. But!” He said with intense optimism, tone bright, “That's what we’re gonna do, at least until we’re far enough down for you to warm up. My friends can take care of themselves for a little while so you can recover; they’re plenty scrappy and clever enough from their own adventures, and they’ve been antsy the last few days anyways.” It was true enough, and saying it aloud helped Sky to relax more as he faced the honesty in his words. 

 

Wind, their youngest, was already confirmed safe- Sky hates to admit to worrying more about him, but he’s still so brash and prone to recklessness if there’s no voice of reason that he just couldn’t help himself. He’s so young that to imagine anything happening to him hurts in its own way, different from the concern he holds for the others. 

 

And Four- he’s never handled their portal travels well. Knowing that they’d all been separated and alone, the diminutive Smithy was the other he’d been most concerned for- like Wind, not for lack of skill, but for how helpless and hampered he could be by his own body’s failings in the face of transdimensional travel.  Migraines, partial paralysis, and unconsciousness would leave anyone vulnerable, no matter how capable they were normally. 

 

Oh, he was still afraid for the others, especially considering Link’s warning about the dubious safety of their locations, but the most vulnerable of their group was accounted for, which bought them a little breathing room for Link to recover. 

 

He looked down at the hero glaring up at him with half-lidded eyes, unable to stand steady and still insisting Sky let him go off on a rescue mission of perfectly capable warriors. He huffed a soft laugh. “Besides, you won’t be much good passed out again if they were in trouble, so you might as well relax. I’ve got you,” he soothed.  

 

This was rewarded with the subtle weight of Link leaning unconsciously into the soul bond between them, a feeling Sky recognized from when the others did it, most notably Four and Time. It felt almost like pressure, a hand resting its weight on the connection, like leaning into a comforting touch. There was a sense of blindness from Link, a certain unresponsiveness that hinted that he wasn’t aware of the bond, but that was alright. It was there regardless, and another avenue of comfort for Sky to press upon him. 

 

He began humming softly, and felt Link finally go boneless, resting at last. Sky pressed a smile to the top of his head, heart warm at the trust being shown him, at the younger hero’s willingness to accept help and comfort from him. 

 

They came around the edge of the mountain, leaving the path before them shadowed- there would be no using the sunlight casting across ice to gauge how slippery a surface would be. Sky slowed accordingly, for all that he wanted nothing more than to rush Link to a safer place where he could properly warm him up and let him rest. He picked his way across a ragged patch of stone, ridged enough to provide traction.

 

Two steps onto it, and the ground decided to cease behaving as a stable surface conducive to walking. 

 

The earth moved below his feet in an odd slide, leaving him to stagger and go down to his knees to prevent falling altogether. In his arms Link twitched, and Sky immediately shot his gaze to the ground, which was lifting up beneath them- he couldn’t draw Fi like this, but he braced himself to jump free of whatever attack this was, only to be flung from the rising stone as it shook in an odd, distinctly not-stone-like wiggle. 

 

His foot caught on a shelf of rock as he was hurled free, and he dropped Link for fear of landing directly on him, instead impacting the ground viciously in a spray of feathery snow. He managed a clumsy, sliding roll up to his knees before bracing one foot out and placing a hand down to stabilize himself as the spinning fall caught up to him, wheezing a thin breath to recover what the ground had smacked from his lungs.

 

 Link was right by him, still sprawled in the snow, but apparently well enough to give an exasperated shout. “Shit! How the hell did I forget the thrice damned talus?!” 

 

Ah, the unceasing thrill of discovering new, strange monsters in the others’ Hyrules. 

 

A talus, then. Sky eyed the creature - was it even alive? It looked like stone - as it hulked up and up and up, all crushing force and solid, impenetrable mass. Fi jumped to his hand and he strode over to Link, gripping him firmly by the bicep and dragging him clear of the stone monster as it began to trudge towards them. The younger hero couldn’t find his feet, but Sky was relentless, watching the talus as it sensed their moving away and followed.

 

How, he couldn’t say; there weren’t any eyes visible on it. Shame, that - they were always a safe, weak point to strike when all else failed.  

 

From where he was stumbling beside the Chosen hero, Link managed to croak an indistinct “What?” but Sky had no time for more than a flash of concern over concussions before the talus stopped following and geared up for some kind of long range attack. It drew an arm back, and Sky immediately braced his feet in preparation for whatever was to come They were out of striking distance, so it was either going to lunge, or-

 

The boulders comprising the arm jetted off the body mass and straight for them. In a flash the Skyloftian was diving for Link and rolling them out of the way to curl over the more vulnerable hero. He gritted his teeth as debris struck him, the impacts bruising even through his mail armor. Once the rain of shrapnel stopped he leapt to his feet again, aware of at least two points where the shards had been sharp enough to cut through to his skin. 

 

Wild eyed, he watched as the rock creature slammed itself into the ground and withdrew a whole new arm, just as dangerous as the first. “What?!” he barked incredulously, face set in shock. 

 

Bad, bad bad bad. Beside him, Link had pulled out a bow from- where had he gotten that? 

 

There was no time to wonder, the native hero immediately taking control as Sky faltered with this unfamiliar threat. Link’s voice was firm, unwavering even if it was still crackling, as solid and sure as the Captain’s under pressure. “There’s no cover around here so we’d better go straight in. That rock on its back is the only weak spot, so don’t bother going for anything else. I’ll shoot it to stun it; get ready to climb up,” he ordered, not even looking at Sky as he laid out the plan, if the haphazard sketch of actions could be considered so. 

 

Link may sound like the Captain in tone, but certainly not so much in phrasing. 

 

The Chosen Hero spared a wide-eyed glance to the other, barely letting out an uncertain “Uhm?” before Link fired, eliciting a stone-grinding scream from the talus. Startled -having expected the arrow to just ping off the stone without effect- he plunged into a sprint before being stopped by Link stepping in front of him with an arm out, still facing the talus. He pulled up short and only barely jostled the smaller hero before blinking in helpless confusion as Link then dashed forward himself, the talus crumpling to the ground and lying as still as one would expect a pile of rocks to. 

 

He darted to follow, stride breaking in hesitation as the younger hylian scaled the stones without hesitation or complication to stand atop the monster, a sledge hammer suddenly in hand and a menacing look in his eye. Sky tried to emulate the climb, but there was no traction for his hand or his feet; if he could just manage a lunging step up he’d be atop the talus too, but he slid uselessly off of the smooth stone, scrabbling like a bug in a cup. 

 

“Sky?” He heard from above, and he took another short running jump, almost, almost managing to get a grip when the stone shuddered beneath him and he fell back once more. 

 

He snarled in desperate frustration, furiously crying, “How did you get up there?” as he was forced to retreat, the talus rising up once more to its feet. Growling, he tested a few slicing hits against its legs- tough as true stone, as he’d expected- before flipping back and skipping away as it suddenly whirled around, trying to pinpoint his location underneath it. 

 

Link cried something, still atop it, but all Sky caught over the rush of blood in his ears was a demand to take cover before the hero was flying off it with a shout that cut off as he hit the ground on the opposite side of the monster Sky was watching from. The lean form rolled with the force of his fall and stopped.

 

That moment stretched on in Sky’s eyes, staring at the limp sprawl of his companion. 

 

Another second dragged by, and still Link didn’t move. He was motionless, rag-doll limbs askew, hair a spray of gold across the snow behind him. 

 

The talus took a shuddering step towards the prone hero, and Sky saw that lean, fragile body crushed under the weight of the boulderous creature. 

 

Sky saw red . 

 

He flew forward, sailcloth flaring behind him as he whirled smoothly into a hammering strike to the leg, dipping deftly beneath an arm to unleash a flurry of devastating blows. 

 

They didn’t do much; his assault left behind pale lashes where Fi bit shallowly into the stone, but no true damage of any kind was inflicted. More importantly though, the talus had stopped moving towards Link and was instead putting its full effort into crushing Sky with various parts of its anatomy. The heavy swinging legs and wide sweeping arms were easy enough to dip and dodge around as long as he stayed beneath it, though he kept an eye on any sign for it to drop down to try to crush him as he did his level best to keep it from the downed hero until he could wake up. 

 

He would wake up. 

 

Link mentioned a stone being a weakness upon it, and Sky had glimpsed such a thing as he tried to scrabble on top of the creature- dark, sparkling, different from the rock that comprised the rest of the talus. Sky spared a glance towards where Link had fallen and found him rising at last, blessedly free of major injury, watching back from a ready crouch. Perfect . 

 

Sliding clear of the talus’ feet and weaving smoothly around the arm as it was thrown at him, Sky darted around the hulking mass and charged Fi, leaping high and bringing her shining blade down on the vulnerable stone upon its back where it lay within reach as the talus dipped its shoulder into the ground. It didn’t shatter as he hoped, but there was a promising flare of light and power as he struck it, and he could see fine hairline fractures so close up before he flipped backwards of its furious flailing. 

 

There was an explosion at the creature’s back, and for a second Sky feared it was some kind of defense mechanism or additional attack, only recognizing it as another hit landed upon the glittering stone by Link when the talus started writhing again and crumpled to the ground. 

 

This time, Sky didn’t hesitate as he dashed forward, lungs aching as he ran up the ramp of its arm, clumsily scrambling up the treacherously slick stone. Sheer determination got him to the top, and he wasted no time taking out his annoyance and fear on the talus’ crystal, stance firm and braced for power as he landed two-handed, brutal blows to the stone. Small shards broke off, but though the fractures grew there was no sign of severe structural damage yet. 

 

He lashed at it furiously, but by the time the rock beneath his feet shuddered once more Sky could tell it wasn’t enough yet to put the monster down for good. From the side he heard Link warn, “Get ready Sky, it’s going to throw you off!”, and at the memory of the other hero being harshly thrown off, opted to dismount of his own volition in a smooth, well-timed hop and easy roll to clear of its feet. 

 

He darted right back in immediately, letting out a frustrated yell as his attacks continued to do nothing , before pulling away to reassess from a safe distance. He checked to make sure it wasn’t heading off towards a vulnerable Link again and- 

 

Uh oh. Where-? Where was Link?!

 

His head whipped around, but he didn’t glimpse any hint of blonde or color in the snow. Sky darted a wide perimeter around the talus, keeping one eye warily on it as he searched for his companion- he had just heard him, he couldn’t be far, he couldn’t have gotten hurt, right?

 

Thinking he might have retreated up the path for a reprieve, Sky scoped up and his periphery snagged on his missing hero, clinging like an overzealous kitten high up a sheer cliff. 

 

Something like a shriek of despair tried to escape his chest. “What- Link, get down from there!” He took an unconscious step that way, as if he could spontaneously cross the distance and catch him if he fell, only to be forced to abort the movement in a sideways hop as the talus reeled back to hurtle its arm at him again, forced instead to shelter behind a low boulder so he could panic in peace for a second. 

 

“Roger that!” Link piped, and the Sky ‘s head shot out from behind the rock just in time to catch him letting go, free falling for a heart-stopping second before he suddenly let loose an impossibly fast flurry of arrows upon the talus, the onslaught exploding on impact. The hero wavered, and the last arrow went flying into the cliff; he had been out of range for the initial explosions, but this one blew up directly below and behind him,so near that the force of the explosion hurled him away. That lean form was sent flying right into the talus, and through the swell of flames Sky saw him slam into the crystal and pinwheel off of it to crash into the snow. 

 

In his hand, Fi cringed, half formed concerns of : internal bleeding, crushed rib cage, fractured spine, punctured lung s, snapped neck : flitting by, already mirrored by Sky’s own fears. Oh Hylia, no. No, please, no!

 

He hadn’t fallen far from the raging monster, and Sky was flying forward the instant it took a single thundering step towards Link’s still form, aware of how ineffective he was against the stone creature but he’d be damned and dying before he let it move unhindered towards his fallen companion. 

 

This time though, it was more determined to take out the prone victim before it. This accursed time, it spun away from any of Sky’s attempts to land a blow upon its crystal mound. He tried to dart around it, tried to trip it up, tried to draw it to hurl a limb and be forced to rearm itself, but it simply gave him only enough attention to keep him from killing it, everytime the Skyloftian moved too far in an attempt to get around its back only ending in it edging steadily closer to Link 

 

Sky wouldn’t allow it to reach him, couldn’t risk letting it move forward as he attacked its stone in case his killing blows took too long to finish it; he had no idea how many more hits it would take to kill the talus, or whether it would even die after the crystal was destroyed. Link was still alive, Sky could feel him through the bond yet, was holding to that thought like the only shelter in a storm-  

 

He needed to think of something else, fast . 

 

“Sky! Get clear!” Came a strangled, desperate scream, and there was the briefest flash of relief and panic -all of them had a self-sacrificing streak, and he couldn’t see what Link had done- before he obeyed, blindly trusting the other as he hurled himself gracelessly from the talus’ reach, the hulking mass following after him, finally, now that he didn’t want it to, of course . 

 

There was an overwhelming flash of blue, blazing light, blooming outward in a wave of flame and magic that ate up the talus and came alarmingly close to Sky as he reeled backwards from the blast. The air in his lungs pulsed as the percussive wave rolled over him, throwing him backwards and off the mountain altogether, leaving him spinning dizzily in the air as sky, mountain, and far-off earth blurred around him. 

 

It took a second to shake off the shock of the blast, a rasping wheeze dragging through his lips as his lungs burned threateningly, uncomfortably tight and unresponsive as he star-fished, gradually bringing his aimless spinning under control. Pulling in a whining breath of air, he blinked his eyes clear of the blue-white after-image glossing his vision, and like a raptor focused in on the falling form beneath him. 

 

Link had been flung off too, it seemed, and he was falling without any sign of flying gear in sight. Not too surprising, that- only about half of the Chain had any tools that helped with free-falling, and it would seem their newest hero wasn’t one of them. 

 

Sky streamlined himself to catch up, sail cloth whipping freely about him as he drew closer to the unmoving form, wind screaming in his ears. Coming up from above, he could see clearly now that Link was not awake, mouth slack and body folded limply as he fell, hair lashing wildly about him. Sky began revisiting the silly, Karma-tempting thought from earlier, bitterly considering how best to secure the unconscious hero with both arms busy on the sailcloth when suddenly those shockingly bright blue eyes opened and met his. 

 

Oh, good , he had time to think. 

 

Then in an odd, twisting flail a cloth sprang up between them and Link was suddenly no longer below but gusting right past Sky’s freefall with a crack that did nothing to hide the agonized cry of pain from the other as he flashed out of Sky’s view.

 

He flipped upside down and strained to see through the frenetic waving of his own wheat-gold hair, clawing a hand through it to check their distance to the ground. Far enough yet that there was no reason to panic. He flared his sailcloth open again, only to startle as the other hero skimmed right past him in a horizontal trajectory, clipping him across his back before spiraling away from the sidelong blow.

 

Fi flared in venerable light, grandly declaring : Welcome, Hero of the Wild : in august, weighted words before collapsing in upon herself with a weary sigh, the sense of her folding up neatly until she was once again slumbering in the sword, unresponsive yet again and exhausted from the delivery of Link’s title. 

 

Thrice damn it all, but Sky did not have time for this right now. 

 

Biting back the muted grief of Fi's departure, he wobbled wildly in the sudden flurry of air currents, grabbing for Link with a desperate gasp and missing by a scant few inches before snaring the cloth’s corner back from the air with practiced precision. His head whipped around, trying to spot the other and gauge what the hell was happening, when he finally turned into a gentle spiral and there Link was, right above Sky, holding his own glider. 

 

He was listing dangerously to the side, head bobbing uncertainly before his half-lidded eyes suddenly snagged Sky’s. The surprise on his face almost made the Chosen Hero feel better about his own confusion. A wobbly breath of pure, relieved laughter barked from his chest, and for one moment, everything was beautiful- they were both safe and gliding through the cool skies, wind combing through their hair as they gradually descended towards the lush green landscape. 

 

Reality came crashing down in short order though, as at the very edge of his periphery Link went boneless, the half-curled, taut curve of his body dropping into dead weight. His head rolled forward loosely, one hand falling limp from the handle of the glider as he fainted again, the strain of holding himself aloft too much for his injuries. Sky cranked over, only just barely managing to snag him as the glider fell to the side completely and lost all air resistance. 

 

Finally! Safe in his arms! 

 

He could have screamed, but there was no time; they were in freefall once more, and neither were able to use their sailcloths to slow them at the moment. 

 

Sky desperately clutched the smaller hylian close as they fell, rapidly running out of falling distance as they neared the ground. Through their whirling hair he caught a glimpse of Link’s face- bone white complexion shining under a cold sweat, eyes rolled back under half open, flickering eyelids. Maybe not out completely, good - Sky needed his help, as much as he hated it with the kind of injuries Link must have right now.  

 

“Can you hold on to me? Link!” Sky tried, insistent and harsher than normal as he remained painfully aware of the shock that had to be kicking in for the other by now. The other hero moaned a soft exhale, trembling a bit in response. Sky shook him gently despite his hindbrain screaming about broken bones, hating having to risk worsening any injuries, but- well, it was a bit late for that, and landing at this speed would certainly be worse. 

 

Thankfully, Link seemed to rally, finally hugging Sky back in a full body cling as he buried his face into the Skyloftian’s tunic. It sent another warm, painful ping through Sky’s heart, fear and fondness and worry all colliding together in a sharp, tangible squeeze of emotion. Bringing his body to curl around the other and support him as best he could, Sky gently brought the sailcloth to bear one last time as the details of the ground grew ever more distinct below them. 

 

The instant his arms left the other he could feel how tenuous their situation was, could feel how Link dragged down after even a second of having to bear his own weight. He huddled tighter around him, grimly -and with no little snarling at the macabre irony- facing the fact that he may actually have to grasp Link between his legs if that wavering grip failed. 

 

There weren’t any good options available to them. Link had to be badly hurt; if the way he’d passed out twice already in the air and the shocky look to him weren’t proof enough, Sky had seen him ricochet off of cold hard stone after almost being blown up, and the young hero didn’t have any hard armor on to protect him from an impact like that. 

 

But Link didn’t have to hold out for long; they didn’t have far to go; only a handful of seconds in the air before they would be safe on the ground where he could get the injured hero some real help, hopefully. 

 

(He pushed away the uneasy image of Link’s Hyrule as he’d seen it falling, nothing but open green forest and plains. No towns to be found in sight. No help visible anywhere nearby from where they’d land.

 

They’d been able to see quite far from so high up , Sky feared.)

 

A worry for after they were on the ground. 

 

The problem with safe landing, Sky thought grimly, was that you were in danger practically all the way up until your feet were back on earth- getting close didn’t count, here. They may presently only be a few stories above the ground, but he was all too aware of the kind of damage they’d take when he felt Link’s arms shake warningly around him as he slipped lower still. 

 

“It’s fine, just a little longer” He promised, hoping it would be enough. “We’re almost there. Just hold on, we’re going to make it!” He heard the desperation shine through as he ended on a shout, feeling Link shift dangerously. 

 

The other hero let go with an arm, slipping down to Sky’s hips as he did, slurring out an incomprehensible blur of words- his heart pounded, afraid that the younger hylian was on the brink of passing out again when they were so, so close, yet still too far. 

 

Then he heard the victorious breathy cry, saw jagged sparks of light crawl into existence around them like bright scars, and knew what the other had done even as they entered safe falling distance a matter of feet above the ground. 

 

“Damn it Link, no!” He snarled as he let go of his sailcloth altogether, curling his whole body around the injured hero, unsure if momentum was carried over as well and all too aware of what kind of broken bones or internal bleeding he must have, dangerous even without exacerbation. Tucking that hare-brained blonde head under his chin, he gripped the other close, nothing left but to hope that the stress of this teleporting wouldn’t prove too much for Link’s compromised health. 

 

The lights consumed his sight, bright even as he closed his eyes against them, and there was an odd flutter, a hiccup in his consciousness, before he was suddenly standing upright and slammed with as much nausea and pain as the last time he’d appeared in one of Link’s shrines. His knees wobbled and dumped him to the ground, dizzy darkness rising up even as he wondered for a moment, if Link was alright. 

 

He moaned, straining to stay awake and check, to help, to do something other than pass out and leave him untreated, but-

 

Well, Sky knew better than most that no matter how determined a mind, the body always gets the last call. 

 

And so, for all that he fought it, his mind flickered, shuttered, and fell into unconsciousness, leaving Link without any assistance at all.  

 

-----------------------------------------------------------

 

An unpleasant pressure on his stomach and dizzying rush of blood to his head greeted Sky as he roused, flailing a little before realizing he was slung over someone’s shoulder in an undignified but effective carry hold. 

 

“Could… you put me down, please?” He asked thinly, clenching his jaw against the low-grade nausea as his stomach complained about his uncomfortable position. 

 

He was not going to vomit down this man’s back, he was not . 

 

Not if he was put down , anyways, he amended with a healthy dose of queasy spite. 

 

“Of course, just a moment,” the man beneath him replied, before gently crouching and helping Sky to sit, head drooped down and elbows on his knees. He brought a hand up as if the pressure could quell the gripping headache; it had eased off while he rested, but was back with a vengeance now after the latest… shrine… teleport?

 

The shrine on the mountain. Link, the talus, the explosion, Link, falling, flying, Link, Link, Link -

 

Where was Link.  

 

He flung his head up and around, panic clawing up his throat with vicious speed. He barely managed to lay eyes on the scarred hero where he was leaning on Wind as his head -and stomach, and body in general - protested the rapid movement, threatening to pass out again for a moment before calming back down. Link was walking mostly on his own from the looks of it, and Sky let himself slump back down for a moment in relief before his languid blinks finally cleared his vision, and he made out the chalky complexion and stiff way he was holding himself as he walked in small, mincing steps. 

 

There was blood trailing down his chin, smeared away but red still where it hadn’t yet dried.

 

Whatever Link had taken, it seemed he was in need of at least one more, if he was still this badly injured. Then again, Sky acknowledged grimly, he had taken what easily could have been a harsh enough blow to shatter his ribcage and spine. He hauled himself to his feet and prowled over, worriedly scanning the injured hero for lucidity and breathing- those fantastically blue eyes were bright with pain but focused, and his breathing was steady, if shallow and pained.  

 

Focused, but blinking frequently and slowly. Steady and clear of any foreboding gurgling, but borderline agonal nonetheless. In the back of his mind, his doubts grew steadily. 

 

“Are you alright?” Sky checked, keeping his voice low and firm as his eyes flicked over Link’s face. The hero nodded without thinking before he even finished the question, and Sky bit down on the growl that tried to roll out from his chest. He shook his head once, sharply, before turning to the little Sailor, who was watching him with due caution and healthy meekness.  

 

He spared a moment to reach out to the youth’s frictionless dive into water - prank gone right victory- crisped fish skin crunch with a comforting stroke, a wordless greeting that got back a wave of relief as the Sailor leaned into the bond. 

 

Seems like their youngest could use a good hug once Link was straightened away- Sky would be more than happy to provide it in just a minute, but first-

 

“Scratch that, Wind, did you give him a potion?” Sky barrelled on, when there was no immediate answer to his initial wellness check, his ire and concern rising as he caught Wind’s negatory shake from the corner of his eye. “No, nevermind, he needs a fairy. He was so sick from the shrine travel, and then that rock monster! He ended up passing out almost before we even went through the shrine- I saw him accidentally blow himself up and bounce off the talus, Link, sit down!” He snapped at the wide-eyed hero, who had apparently refused any treatment despite having exploded himself right into a boulder . 

 

Sky was going to scream , but he was going to hold it in until he was someplace private because he was a trained knight, and this was not the time or place for expressing frustration in a useless manner. 

 

Sometimes he loathed the necessity of being a responsible adult, truly.   

 

“I’m fine,” Link insisted, even as he looked like a friendly pat on the shoulder would send him crumpling. Sky’s nostrils flared as he pursed his lips, expression going flat with resignation even as cornflower blue eyes glittered with worry. Link tried for a charming smile, but it only drew attention to the clamminess of his skin and his sunken eyes, and Sky could feel his eyebrows drawing together in despair. 

 

Hylia save him from reckless companions.

 

 He couldn’t keep all of the disbelief out of his voice as he watched Link move as if to continue down the path on his own, hunched over his stomach and shaky. “You aren’t walking. Why are you walking?!” Sky demanded, whirling on the Sheikah man with blazing eyes. “He should be being carried- what were you two thinking?” 

 

Wind flinched, and even in the middle of his blinding concern Sky internally winced at his unfair accusation. He stepped into Link’s personal space, gently gripping him under the elbows and drawing him from Wind’s support to try to get him to sit down. The other silently refused to settle, locking his legs and raising his chin in weak belligerence, leaving the Skyloftian with no recourse but to manually try to search out his injuries and assess them that way.

 

There was a heavy flinch at the ribs that had Link’s breath catching for an unnervingly long span of seconds, but Sky didn’t need to do more than brush a hand along the ribcage to know that it was still intact, if not fractured in a few places. It seemed the blow had been glancing enough to not deliver enough forward blunt force to shatter them inwards, as Sky had feared when he first saw it happen. 

 

A long-fingered, chilled hand gently touched his as he moved to press on Link’s stomach, having found his spine and neck fine, if as tender as the rest of poor Link’s body must be feeling under all the bruising he was fostering. The other hero’s voice was still hoarse, the tone too light and airy yet for the situation as he soothingly spoke.“I’m fine, Sky. I already had some elixirs, there’s no need for a fairy. They just need a little time to work, that’s all.” 

 

The Chosen Hero stared him down, and deemed the answering hazy gaze insufficient in its attempt to quell his concern. 

 

“No,” he said flatly. “No, you’re taking a fairy. You fainted in mid-air! After I found you unconscious by the shrine! And - and I bet you were unconscious when we arrived here again, too!” He turned to Wind to check, and the Sailor nodded, eyes wide and worried as he too, began to watch Link with renewed concern. 

 

Sky rested a reassuring hand on Wind’s shoulder, and sent Link a warning look, fast coming to the end of his patience as he watched the lean youth waver on his feet, expression lost and ill, eyes focused, still, but fading. Sky softened at the sight, but his voice remained low and stern. “We have plenty for now, and you are using one. That’s not up for debate.” 

 

He waited, keeping his expression open but firm, breathing evenly evenly as Link blinked unsurely back. Then the Sheikah chimed in, “You were vomiting blood, Link. I think that warrants a fairy, if only to be on the safe side. Who’s going to save the rest of Wind’s friends if you end up dead from a poor decision?”  

 

Sky’s sucked in a sharp breath, straightening up and shifting forward as if he expected Link to collapse any second. Wind’s panicked shout of “Did he just say BLOOD?” rang out beside him, followed quickly by Link’s desperate, “It’s fine, the hearty elixir took care of the internal bleeding-”

 

Wind was having none of it though, clawing at the air in frustration as he hissed, “Internal bleeding is absolutely grounds for a fairy, what the HELL-”

 

Sky couldn’t help but interrupt with his own disbelieving, “How are you still arguing this?!” He stepped before Link, hands fluttering over him worriedly to gauge the severity of the confirmed internal bleeding, apparently untreated after all this time yet - he ran his eyes over him again, taking in the shocky, pale appearance of the other with deep concern. 

 

Wind ruffled his hands through his hair in pure agitation, viciously muttering “Why couldn’t we get someone with actual self-preservation for once, Hyrule’s going to throw a FIT-” 

 

And that was an excellent point that had a pang of regret running through Sky’s veins that the Traveler himself wasn’t here to bring down the full force of his fury and healer’s charm on Link’s ridiculous, unsuspecting injured face. That’s alright- Sky can certainly step up in his absence. 

 

Link tried desperately to argue in his defense, voice thin but adamant. “I have self-preservation, thank you. But fairies should be saved for emergencies, and this isn’t one.” He gave Sky a determined glare, pale and shaking and badly injured, why have they been cursed with such pointless stubbornness.  

 

Sky allowed himself a quiet, airy scream for a second before descending into defeated laughter. “‘Internal bleeding isn’t an emergency’, Hylia save me from fools with a death wish,” he muttered in bitter disbelief. 

 

He shook his head and gathered himself from his despair, meeting Link’s eyes in supplication. If there’s one thing that’s always worked on the others… Sky let his misery and concern show on his face, sending sad eyes at Link as he dropped his tone low in upset. “Please, do it for us then, if nothing else. You can use one of our fairies, if you’re so worried about saving yours.” He gathered Link’s hand between his own, trying to distract himself from the overwhelming need to snag Link by the arms and drag him to sit down and accept the damned fairy. 

 

Link faltered visibly, and Sky went for the throat, voice tear-choked and sad and most importantly, absolutely honest. “We’re worried about you. If we let you leave like this, we’ll be afraid the whole time that you won’t make it back, all because we couldn’t convince you to heal with the resources we have aplenty,” he said, big blue eyes brimming with misery and tears of frustration successfully masquerading as pure emotionality. 

 

“It’s not because you can help get our friends back, but because you’re a genuinely good man to go into danger just to help perfect strangers, and we don’t want you to die for us. Don’t make us have to live with that, or fear it while we wait.” Link hunched down a little, and Sky released his hands to gently touch one stiff shoulder.  

 

“Please?” he implored softly, his countenance hesitantly hopeful despite the fact that he was inwardly vibrating with feral esperation. 

 

The unsuspecting hero crumpled under the full force of Sky’s baby blues. He let his head list to the side, mouth quirking as he acquiesced at last. “Fi-” He started softly, only to cut his breath off suddenly with a violent spasm of his diaphragm, lips clamping shut as he stiffened and curled forward with a sharp twitch. Sky jerked forward as well, hovering his hands over Link’s shoulders as Wind nudged up to support him from the side, brown eyes wide with trepidation. 

 

The Sailor rested a hand on the injured hylian’s sleeve. “Link?” he asked quietly, fearfully. The teenager opened and shut his mouth before shivering hard and turning almost gray, what little color he had fleeing and leaving him clammy skinned and distant eyed. He pushed at Sky half heartedly as he collapsed to his knees, the Skyloftian swaying back but quickly following Link down to support his shoulder as he arched forward, body shuddering as he vomited. 

 

Blood fell forth, splashing to pool bright red and glistening in the grass before them. 

 

Oh no. Oh no .  

 

Wind cried out in shock, but to his credit only hesitated a moment before darting in to hold back the ill hero’s long hair where it had fallen from his ponytail. There was a ragged, breathless sob, and another wave of traitorous sanguine was distributed across the grass to glitter oddly as Link retched again, half fainting from the pain of his contracting diaphragm around ruined, hemorrhaging organs. The violent display on the grass wasn’t the whole of it yet, though, and Link continued gagging weakly; he would have fallen completely had Sky not caught him across the chest in an awkward hug, half swooning and keening in quiet agony where he had breath to spare. 

 

Okay, that was enough . 

 

Hugging Link closer as he finally subsided into shaking, limp stillness, Sky looked to the Sailor, face dead serious, eyes concerned and grim. “Wind, fairy. Now .” 

 

As the young hero scrambled to obey, Link’s chest expanded under Sky’s hands in a shaky sigh. The Skyloftian gently gripped his wrist, gauging the heartbeat; fast, and thready, but not faltering. His breathing was worse, jagged and wheezing now, but still strong. Where his other arm rested across Link’s chest he rubbed a thumb soothingly over his shoulder, the motion comforting to Sky as his thoughts raced over possible complications of untreated internal bleeding.

 

Death , some wicked portion of his hind brain kicked out. His hand tightened over Link’s pulse, nose tucking into his hair. 

 

Under his hands Link sighed again, pointedly dramatic and put-upon, but more importantly acquiescent at last , no matter how grudging the acceptance of his fate.

 

How rough his life must be, forced to endure a fairy’s healing at Sky’s cruel hand after he vomited blood.  

 

Exasperation softened the biting edge of worry at the sound of their newest companion’s attitude. He gave the limp hero a brisk rub over his shoulder, mouth begrudgingly quirked in relief and humor as he shut the other’s wordless complaints down with a definitive “No.” 

 

He could see just enough of Link’s face to catch the way his mouth edged into a mild pouting frown, even his eyes remained closed and his body tight with pain. Sky carefully pulled him to rest back against his chest, feeling him shake in pain as his body uncurled. He glanced over as Wind gave a slightly hysterical laugh as he finally brought out a fairy to hold high in momentary victory, placidly floating in her bottle as he wrestled to uncork it. The instant she was released she spiraled out in a glitter of sound and light, immediately zooming over to Link and bobbing before his face speculatively. Unsatisfied, she proceeded to circle him, determinedly laying her healing magic over his battered body. Under his hands Sky could feel Link go limp and languid as his injuries were healed, only stirring into a lazy stretch as the fairy finished her work with a shimmering trill. 

 

Sky let him sit up, the weight of fear falling from his shoulders at the sight of the other’s healthy flush once more, the sharpness in those eyes from wit and a clever mind once more rather than the jagged cutting edges of pain. 

 

“Thank you,” he said effusively to the tiny, self-satisfied figure, sending the fairy a bright smile that had her ruffling her layered skirt in well-earned smugness. 

 

Link was quick to follow suit, offering a brilliant smile of his own. “Thanks! I really do appreciate it. Here-” He said cheerily, producing a large berry dripping with honey to the fairy- again, from somewhere Sky couldn’t discern. She seemed utterly pleased, gripping the fruit half the size of herself and singing out a gliss of lovely notes before departing. Her bright form flitted away but didn’t disappear as was their wont, instead darting off up the path in the direction of the forest, visible right up until the trees shrouded her luminous form from view.

 

Interesting, that; it may be a unique aspect of Link’s fairies. He caught Wind looking too, a keenly speculative look on his face as he surveyed the forest with intent. Sky was more than familiar with the look their youngest got when he was cooking up a scheme; if he had to guess, the Sailor was going to be sneaking back out in search of gathering that fairy back up once she’d had time to recuperate her magic again. 

 

A flash of metal drew his attention back to Link, now sporting a broadsword and metal coronet across his forehead, odd flat stone in hand and a distinctly shifty look about him. Sky narrowed his eyes, drawing himself up to his full height. 

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, letting his voice roll out at the lower edges of his register. There was a small spark of vindictive satisfaction as Link tensed in a minute jump, before quickly affecting a carefree demeanor. 

 

The younger hero laughed easily, fixing his ponytail as he avoided Sky’s eyes. “I’m doing better, so I’ll just be heading out now. Just like we agreed, yeah?” His voice was carefree and happy, rolling gently over his words in a nearly sleep-smoothed manner, all soft edges and easy lilt. 

 

It was a voice Sky could fall asleep to, suited to lullabies and quiet conversations, an almost hilarious contrast to the peppy attitude Link was putting off at the moment. So it was even more laughable that despite the calming tones, Sky only found his frustration growing at the careless brush-off of the mortal injuries that he’d been suffering literally only a few minutes ago. 

 

The other hero bounced a little at the end, landing with his hip cocked playfully and a foot out in a mockery of a courtier’s bow, and Sky felt his fuse get snipped that much shorter. 

 

He could have died . And while as heroes that was a risk they’d all run up against multiple times on their adventures, there was nothing Sky despised more than a cavalier attitude towards such a narrow miss. Link was barely five minutes healed and he was already perfectly willing to brush off the experience as no big deal and go charging back out again with nary a breather. 

 

There was a difference, Sky had found, between keeping the mood light after a close call and treating the trauma of the situation with no regard for how it had affected others. He’d never had to deal with it on his own adventures, nor, he assumed, had the others, being for the most part alone save for the occasional companion. But…

 

To joke about a close call while drenched in their own blood, while fear still lingered fresh in the minds of the others, while the reality of their death was still sharp and close- Sky couldn’t stand it. 

 

Legend was guilty of it, as was Warriors. Sky could understand why . The near wild laughter afterwards, the high of escaping death one more time, the victory of living another day despite everything the world has thrown at you. They certainly weren’t searching for that kind of danger and risk -Hylia knows they’ve faced the ramifications of senseless violence often enough to quell that kind of hunger- but there was no denying that their favored method of coping involved embracing the adrenaline rush from their near-death experiences and laughing in the face of the abyss as it drew back under fairy light. 

 

Some of them - Time, Twilight, Four - opted to brush these close encounters with death off, electing to move on with as little fuss as possible once they’d recovered. Others sought quiet comfort, uneasy at the reminder of their tenuous mortality- Wind, Hyrule, and Sky himself fell here, more open with their emotions and delicate in their anxieties and fears than the others. 

 

These coping methods each played their part in the greater balance of the group, though. Levity was important, lest the whole mood of the camp be brought low and remain there under the constant barrage of injuries and danger. Gravitas was equally as essential, lest they become careless or callous. They couldn’t afford to linger on their mistakes or misfortunes, only learn from them and continue on. 

 

(The irony is that these particular coping mechanisms all got flipped on their head the instant it was someone else who nearly died; in that manner, all the Links proved their shared spirit was built around at least some fundamentals, one of which was an unrelenting and overwhelming need to protect those they cared about, in whatever manner that expressed itself. But whether it was blatant cuddling, muted expressions of comfort and companionship, or outright threats to take care of oneself, there was no denying that all the Links loved their brothers with a ferocity that was terrifying and glorious.) 

 

Doesn’t mean it can’t piss Sky right off when someone acts like almost dying is ‘no biggie’, as if his concern for their life was wasted or unnecessary when it most certainly wasn’t , why can’t they understand and hold their continued existence at the same level of utmost importance that others do?

 

Wind, who was very familiar with this particular rant of Sky’s, was watching him with wary eyes, biting his lip in cautious anticipation. Those coffee-dark eyes darted towards Link, acting absolutely oblivious despite the distinctly nervous set of his shoulders giving way that he was definitely picking up on some of the danger beginning to permeate the air. 

 

“Um” the Sailor managed, before choosing silence as the greater part of valor the instant Sky began slowly, precisely, stepping towards Link. 

 

“What.” He demanded in a low rumble, eyes blazing as he dared the younger hero to repeat his harebrained plan and the implication that Sky had in any way, shape, or form agreed to it.  

 

Link skittered backwards with a breathless laugh, eyes wide and darting. “Haha, right,” he tittered nervously, before giving up altogether and hoisting his stone up in his hands, calling,”Thanks for the fairy, bye!” 

 

Sky lunged forward and was deftly deflected with an elbow jab towards his face. “I’ll be back soon, don’t worry!” Link said, as if there was any possible way Sky could not panic at the thought of the other hero going out alone and at the mercy of those brutal shrine teleportations. 

 

Sky dove for him, only to draw up short as those transport lights arched into existence around him and Wind cried, “Sky, wait! Don’t touch him!”, fearful of disrupting whatever magic this was at risk of hurting Link even more for his intervention. He circled the hero’s form as more lights bloomed and wove together, furious and helpless. 

 

“We are going to talk about this when you come back! And Hylia help you, if you’re in need of another fairy when you get back-!” he snarled, fists clenched in fear and fury alike. Link looked back, face cast in blue light, overlaid for a moment by the cold gray pallor as he’d lain injured in Sky’s arms minutes before. 

 

He crossed his pinky over his heart, smirking for a second before faltering at Sky’s pursed lips and burning gaze and sending him a ‘sorry’ with a wince. 

 

Oh, he thought that would save him when he got back, how laughable. 

 

Sky narrowed his eyes dangerously, Wind calling, “Drink something!” from behind him, with a demanding wave of his arm. 

 

The lights all coalesced in a bright ball before drifting skyward in glowing ribbons, leaving nothing behind.

 

Sky groaned deep in his throat, grinding the heels of his hands into his eyes as he tilted his head back, breathing slowly as he tried to rein in the urge to scream. There was a hesitant hand at his side, and he took another moment to steady himself before gladly wrapping the Sailor in a bear hug, curling desperately around him as he tried to satiate the overwhelming urge to protect, even if Wind was perfectly safe and uninjured. 

 

Or was he? 

 

All at once, Sky realized he didn’t know, hadn’t asked, and he was immediately pulling back, gripping Wind by the shoulders and meeting his eyes. 

 

“Are you alright? Oh gods, Wind, I didn’t even check-” he said worriedly, anger settling to the side in favor of confirming the well-being of the hylian before him. Wind huffed, flapping his hands to bat away Sky’s fluttering. 

 

“I’m fine, I’m fine! I didn’t even do anything, I landed in the village,” he said with some level of disgust. 

 

The Sheikah suddenly spoke up, startling Sky as he suddenly remembered the presence of the silent man behind them. “Wind was rather sick from the shrine, actually. He’s been up and about, though, regardless of our attempts to get him to rest as he should.” 

 

‘Dorian, shhh!” Wind hissed, but it was too late- Sky, with all his frustrated protective tendencies that had been bottled up when Link scarpered off, latched on in an instant to the hint that Wind may not be at full health. 

 

He tried for a second to run before being promptly scooped up by Sky in a lightning-quick grab. The Sailor struggled briefly, eliciting a grunt as he buried an elbow in the Skyloftian’s gut and a growled “Don’t! Struggle- Wind!” before settling in to sulk in Sky’s arms. 

 

He gave a dramatic flail, less an attempt to escape and more an excuse to sprawl in the hold, head falling back to glare upside down at Dorian as they finally started towards the village once more. 

 

“Oh, don’t glare at him, Sailor! Better I find out like this than by you passing out without any warning!” Sky chided in a bright, distinctly dangerous pointed tone.  

 

Wind scowled, and couldn’t help but mutter, “I wouldn’t have passed out at all because I’m fine now, just like I said.”

 

Sky elected to ignore him, keeping a brisk pace forward. “How’s Four, then? He gets hit pretty hard on a normal portal, and this one was so rough even on you… Link made it sound like something happened?” He asked worriedly, increasingly concerned as he realized that Four’s absence didn’t speak well to the Smithy’s well-being. 

 

Dorian hopped in, padding silently beside them. “The little one landed in Hebra Mountains- Link got to him quickly, but apparently he had a run in with a water lizalfos that didn’t help with the cold. We got him warmed up, but he’s still recovering at the moment.”

 

He caught Sky’s devastated look, grimacing awkwardly but forging ahead in an attempt to reassure the other. “He’ll be fine too. Nothing a little rest and some spicy elixirs won’t fix.” 

 

Sky frowns, but there’s little to do but trust him until he can lay eyes on Four and judge for himself. He set a quick pace, only slowing to allow the Sheikah take the lead once they were amongst the village proper, letting Wind down as they entered an inn and storming through the indicated door. He paused a moment at the door, taking in the bundled blankets that added so much bulk to Four’s tiny form. The aged Sheikah waiting at his bedside was utterly unruffled by Sky’s abrupt entrance, and didn’t hesitate at all before he stood and made to exit the room. 

 

“Pikango,” he offered briskly, offering his hand. Sky took it, gaze diverting between Four and the person speaking to him. 

 

“Sky,” he offered distractedly, moving to stand beside the bed, resting a hesitant hand over the Smithy’s forehead- it was a little cooler than it should be, but his breathing was steady and deep. 

 

There was a pointed stretch of silence that he supposed he should fill, but Sky opted instead to flit his gaze over the two brothers present as his mind struggled with worry for all the others. Wind pressed once more into his side, and Sky obligingly let him curl close, observing Four’s easy breathing and calm features. 

 

There was a flurry of subtle movement from the two Sheikah, some kind of silent argument, before Pikango’s voice finally rumbled from the doorway, firm but not unsympathetic. “We’ll give you a few minutes with him, then we’ll be having you speak to our village elder about what all happened to land you in the shrines, if you don’t mind.” 

 

“Pik- please, be a little more polite!” Their companion stuttered, finally breaking from his dutiful silence. 

 

“Do your job then, Dorian, and I won’t have to! Make sure he doesn’t take too long, either; we can’t work on fixing what’s wrong if we have no information, and Link’s gone awol again, so he’s no help until whatever endeavor he’s set himself is done with.” Pikango said, and left before Dorian could reply with anything more than a half-formed denial. 

 

He hesitates, before turning towards the trio of heroes with awkward determination. Sky decided to be merciful in light of the man’s obvious hesitance to overstep on a personal reunion between friends. “Let me check on him, then I’ll come out and speak with your elder. Wind will stay with him in the meantime, if you could have someone nearby in case they need anything while I’m gone.” 

 

The Sheikah guard tipped his head graciously, backing towards the door. “No, of course. We’ll be providing dinner, and the room is yours for however long you need it.” 

 

“We’ll pay for it, of course,” Sky hurried to reassure, but Dorian shook his head with a subtle smile. 

 

“Link will cover it, whether you want him to or not. He’s a habit of leaving payment no matter how often we tell him it's unnecessary, and now that you’re under his care he’ll certainly want to help you out in this as well. The boy has more rupees and gemstones than he knows what to do with, I swear.” His voice was fond, and Sky was glad to hear it. 

 

As soon as Dorian left Wind eased up onto the bed, burrowing under the blankets to curl beside Four like a pair of kittens.  “Don’t get too comfy,” Sky warned with a smile, removing the covers to check Four over for himself. His knight’s training covered basic treatments, but after his adventure Sky had pursued higher level learning- he’d never be a medic, but he was more trained than most of the other knights on what to do for a decent range of injuries and illnesses. And so he counted out the Smithy’s pulse, checked his nails on his hands and toes, pressing the skin to gauge how pliable the tissue was. He listened to his breathing, relieved to find no sign of water in the lungs or crackling that could prove dangerous down the line. 

 

All good, if still chilled. He pressed his forehead to Four’s hand in gratitude, sending a brief, heartfelt thanks to Hylia. 

 

Tucking Four back in -along with the warm, suspiciously dragon scale-like items that were snugged in close to the small hero-, he smiled at Wind, who had watched the whole examination with worry and close scrutiny of Sky’s expressions. “He’s just sleeping it off now. There shouldn’t be any complications, though I would watch for him to get too warm with all these blankets once he starts heating up on his own.” 

 

Wind heaved a sigh of relief, eyes closing as he turned to bury his nose in Four’s shoulder, hugging him tightly. Sky noted that he too looked exhausted and worn, and remembered Dorian’s comments that he’d been bad off as well. 

 

“You can sleep, if you like. You’ll get hot too, if the temp rises too much, and you’re right next to him, so you don’t have to worry about missing it.” Wind glared at him, but Sky only waved it away airily, laughing nervously as he tried to reassure the Sailor that he could sleep- he looked so tired! And he was in a bed anyways-

 

“There’s no need to stay up, really- Four won’t need to be woken for food or drink unless he sleeps all the way through the morning as well, which I doubt. But if you really insist on staying awake, feel free I suppose. Just, if you’re tired, you can nap and it’ll be fine-” He rambled helplessly, trying not to sound condescending while also impressing the fact that Wind could absolutely catch up on much needed sleep if he had to.

 

Wind put him out of his mercy, rolling his eyes before nestling in tight, closing them pointedly in dismissal. “I get it, I get it. You’re anything but subtle, you know it? I’ll sleep, don’t worry. Now get going before the Sheikah come in and drag you off to meet their leader. That’d be a terrible first impression, and the Chain deserves better from you, oh Chosen Hero.”

 

Fondness bloomed in his heart, and he couldn’t stop himself from running his hands through Wind’s hair as he knew the Sailor liked, massaging gently until the young hylian went limp, nearly purring.  He pulled away and rested the hand lightly on Four’s chest, reassuring himself once more of the warmth and easy breathing before forcing himself away. 

 

Wind was right- as the representative of the Chain, he had a good first impression to make. 

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Wind was a little hellion , was what he was. The Sailor had somehow failed to mention the mess that was his initial arrival, along with the fact that he’d gone to meet the elder and passed out in front of her, only to run off when he woke up and wreak havoc on the poor villagers and harry them right up until Sky’s arrival, providing absolutely zero information to them despite their gentle nudging. 

 

Good first impression his perky little ass . The Sailor was lucky he was young, or the Sheikah may have actually been offended instead of indulgently bemused at the whole ordeal. As it was, there weren’t any ruffled feathers for Sky to soothe at all in spite of Wind’s gremlin tendencies, only sympathetic looks as he despaired at the younger hero’s inconsideration. 

 

Impa especially seemed smugly amused to find that the Sailor’s scoundrel behavior wasn’t personal in the least. She was a familiar blend of understanding and calculating, even if seeing her weathered alternate here was an old, aching wound to his heart.  She listened with all the open-mindedness expected of an official leader, and answered what questions he had as she could without impinging on Link’s privacy. 

 

In other words, a great many questions were brushed off until their newest companion returned, though he did learn more about this kingdom’s reincarnation of Ganon. 

 

Defeated two years ago by Link and Zelda, who was currently in another village because apparently this particular Hyrule was mostly comprised of ruins, and the castle was no exception. Link had not been overestimating the dangers of his kingdom, it seemed, nor the amount of time it would take to gather the Chain together by foot. Impa knew no more about the whereabouts of Sky’s fellow heroes than he did- the Hero of the Wild did not make a habit of informing others of his whereabouts or plans, apparently. 

 

As frustrating as it was to have no answers, at least he wasn’t alone in his abandonment. All the Sheikah present had familiar long-suffering looks on their faces, and Sky made a mental note to mention the tendency to Warriors so they could keep an eye out for it once they were on the road again with Link.   

 

But the meeting as a whole went well, and that was what mattered. Sky went back to their room and was treated to the adorable picture of Wind and Four twined together in a tangle, blankets half off the bed where they’d been sleepily thrown clear. 

 

He checked the time and frowned, concerned- it had been an hour and a half at least since Link had dropped him off. 

 

Well, since Wild had dropped him off. What a name, and one that Link seemed determined to live up to, aware of its existence yet or not. Sky doubted he’d caught it as they were falling, but it would seem that Fi had been feeling impatient about meeting the new hero. 

 

She was silent, now. He held her on his lap, blade naked and inert despite his gentle mental prodding. The MasterSword was well and truly hibernating once more, her job finished for now. 

 

They waited, and waited some more. Wind woke up and ate with Sky, and Four too roused several times over the course of the evening enough to gradually finish off his own meal before promptly passing back out, body exhausted from the trauma of freezing.  

 

As night fell, Sky left the room and found that the Sheikah had begun preparing an array of potions -elixirs, they were called here- just in case. The only lead they had on was Dorian’s recognizing Link’s headpiece as a cooling charm, though apparently there were clothes that were far more effective if he were facing severe heat. Link hadn’t said anything to anyone, so they were left scrambling to prepare for any range of scenarios or injuries. 

 

He didn’t like it, the not knowing. The waiting . He’d had prophetic dreams and feelings before, but this particular sense of sticky dread he tried to convince himself was his own anxiety, untainted by knowledge of the future. This wasn’t foresight, it wasn’t . Just regular old trepidation, well-founded concern, not based in the gift of precognition the Goddess had seen fit to give her Chosen Hero. It wasn’t the out-of-place panic and adrenaline that marked ominous, weighted foresight. It didn’t have meaning , this dread. 

 

Sky couldn’t always say the same.

 

(He’d gone careening straight into a panic attack in the middle of class years ago, jerking awake from his nap only recalling the adrenaline-inducing prolonged sensation of falling without any of the relief of waking up. Sky had passed out, utterly heedless of any comfort or platitudes given to him, and woken up no better, still in the grips of whatever mindless, building panic had gripped him. Later, he learned that only 15 minutes after his initial breakdown Gaepora had fallen from a ladder across Skyloft, breaking his spine and leg. He’d been alone, the leg an open fracture he had no way to tend to, and he very well could have gone hours before being found if not for Pipit's searching him out to help comfort Link, the only parental figure available on the island at the time.

 

It wasn’t the first such incident, but it was the first time they’d realized what was happening, exactly.

 

Sky’s foresight was never wrong, never , no matter how distinct or vague the instance was.)

 

Sky didn’t sleep that night, alternating between watching over the two small heroes as they slept and worrying over Link and the Chain, lost somewhere in this strange, dangerous world. 

 

It could be nothing , he told himself as the night dragged on with no sign of any heroes. 

 

It could be what you fear most , whispered his hindbrain as dawn broke, washing sunlight over a tense, worried village. 

 

Four awoke and was caught up to speed, leaving Wind and Sky free to trade off waiting at the shrine with the Sheikah, prepared for the moment they would come back. 

 

It was almost a day later that the second shrine lit up, heralding Link’s return, relief instantly souring into cold fear at the sound of Hyrule’s trembling plea for help, a limp figure draped in his arms. 

 

No, Sky’s premonitions were never wrong. 

 

Notes:

Moose: New chapter!
*polite golf clap*
Moose:*airplane noise* Sky's POV!
*rampant chaos*

Link: *looping lazily on his glider, since it does mostly horizontal gliding*
Sky: *Goes screaming past in stops and starts because his sailcloth goes primarily down*
Their gliding apparatuses work in intrinsically different ways and it’s not really conducive to helping catch your friend when they pass out at the wheel lol

Wind: Now I’m pretty good at Puppy Dog Eyes
Sky: *plush lips parted and trembling with misery, summer blue eyes welling artfully with Ghibli tears, eyebrows drawn in sorrow and the gentle curve of his chin and cheekbone on display as he tilts his head up in supplication, pleading wordlessly as he fights back tragic tears*
Wind: But I’ve got a long way to go before I reach God Tier

Wild, popping up from the ground like a daisy: Haha, alright I’m good now let’s go!
Sky: …go?
Wild: ha. Ha… ha…?
Sky: Say that one more time, straight to my face. Look me. in. the eyes.
Wild: shitRUN

Sky, overcompensating @ Four and Wind: If ANYONE gets so much as a scratch I’m going to lose my GODDAMN MIND

Sky just wants everyone to love themselves as much as he loves them. He was right by the way, about his bad feeling not being his foresight in play. Just good old fashioned worrying over someone who’s home late after leaving on a dangerous mission after being recently and grievously injured. I doubt I’ll end up playing with Sky’s precognitive abilities in this particular fic, but boy would I love to get my hands all up in that particular bucket of playdough at some point. Anyways, I’d like to think that this foresight is expressed in a range of ways, though fairly infrequent events. It can be anywhere from a distinct -though difficult to recall- dream, as in the beginning of Skyward Sword, or a baseless sense of dread or panic, which can also range in severity from minor to as major as the one in the flashback this chapter.

I had this chapter ready to go 3 days after Chapter 2 but purposely held off in an attempt to pace myself at a 10 day schedule- we’ll see how long that holds up before I get crushed by the length of those later chapters, hoo boy. Something tells me they’ll end up getting split between pre and post Wild encounters by Legend’s chapter, but only time will tell~

So far as Fi’s provided percentages, it’s not like Sky didn’t appreciate having hard information to decide off of, but the manner in which those were being calculated… Let's just say at the beginning of her existence, Fi didn’t have a strong grasp on how to deal with humans, nor a good conceptualization of their subjective needs. She didn’t know how to account for the messiness of human psychology, so she realized eventually that all her calculations were either skewed in a manner she couldn’t hope to correct for (with the inherent issue of an AI being unable to conceptualize human behavior, which I imagine a sword spirit to be at least somewhat equivalent to in this context) or pointless altogether when Sky didn’t have all that much room for free-will on his adventure in the first place.

None of the Heroes of Courage did, really. At some point the facts just hurt, when you’ve no option to turn back despite how bad the odds are. In the face of this truth and her growing familiarity -and yes, affection- towards Link and all his reincarnations, she learned from Sky and ceased giving them numbers stating how fucked they were.

(And how sad is it that the odds were never, never in their favor?)

Chapter 4: What Fresh Hell is This?

Summary:

The day proves to be a single slowly crescendoing mental scream for Hyrule. In its defense, there's a half hour where its one of excitement before doing a sudden but pretty seamless switch to absolute anxiety and panic.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Blood/Violence, Vomiting, Heat-induced Illness, Hallucinations

Time until Wild Contact: About 1 hour and 45 minutes (Around 4:30 PM)
Chapter spans: 22 hours
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 4

==================

POV: Hyrule

==================

Hyrule woke to the comforting chorus of fairy song and a distinctly unfamiliar taste of magic in the air. Purple veined eyelids fluttered, his exhale breaking apart in a silent, pained gasp as he became aware of the ache and illness of his body, the portal having wrought absolute havoc with his magic. 

 

The sensation was not new, but the severity of it was . He sprawled across heat soaked stone and shuddered under the weight of the world, swept like a leaf along a stream, aimless and unanchored. 

 

Hyrule knew his fairy heritage was, as all things are, both good and bad. His sensitivity to natural magic had always been a gift, letting him sense monsters closing in on him in his own world, allowing him to draw from the unending well of power held in the earth below, throbbing through ley lines like blood in a vein. He, like all fairies, had a strong connection to that magic, was dependent on it to help replenish and bolster his own magic when he drained himself dry. 

 

The primary limiting factor had always only been in his own body’s limit of how much natural magic could permeate into him at a time, and how quickly his own stores could accept it; it wasn’t until Hyrule was pulled from his own world and sent skipping through others that he realized how very different the texture-taste-feel-colors of the world could be. Such sensations were ever-changing, yes, but had what he would have considered fundamental components, until now. 

 

It presented a problem that he would honestly have never seen coming, and one that he has no means to circumvent.

 

Each time the Chain left that strange path between planes and stepped out into a wholly new world, the frequency of the ambient magic reflected the Hyrule they were entering, the sudden change not unlike the pop of pressure after diving too deep. Normally the travel itself was peaceful, the absolute raging of countless worlds’ magic and light distant and muted from Hyrule’s perception as Hylia’s grace served as fogged glass around them, a protective barrier as she led them where they needed to go. 

 

At the end of these journeys the silent serenity of the space in-between once more gave way to the normal influx of magic that Hyrule was accustomed to, the usual riot of color and light and sound that was at once comforting in it’s familiar chaos and jarring in the swift shift from silence to riotous sensory input. The arrival was more disorienting at some times than at others, depending on which world they landed in, but after acclimating Hyrule had never such trouble that he found himself hindered in any way worth admitting the issue to the others, most of his suffering - too strong a word for how mild the discomfort was most of the times - going unnoticed by the others. Legend and Time had the keenest sense for when Hyrule was suffering from the magical recoil the worst, but such times were rare enough that it was easy to brush off as a ‘bad trip’. 

 

They all had them- it’s just that Hyrule always had them, to one degree or another. It was fine, it was inevitable, and it was absolutely not worth the worry and helpless frustration he would have to watch the others suffer if he ever told them it was happening. 

 

And anyways- they didn’t need to know of the problem to help him with it.  

 

Each of the Links’ worlds had a unique feel that let Hyrule discern immediately which they’d landed in, but there were trends to be found as well, similar patterns and sensations amongst the variety. Warriors’ and Four’s were brighter and more frenetic in energy, a hummingbird flitting amongst a sun-struck field of cut-gem flowers. Time’s and Twilight’s worlds were slower, steadier, like water gathered on a stalactite and dripping a steady beat into a cave pool, centuries in the making and still young. Wind and Sky’s Hyrule throbbed with the fresh ache of growth and change, a scale wobbling on a new focal point as it settled into a different balance, fresh and untried but glowing with hope and opportunity. His own world and Legend’s simmered, razed and burned but not destroyed, all scorched earth that followed wildfire and seeds that grew from the ash, blooming in disaster’s wake. 

 

But exiting this time had been more of an ordeal than he’d suffered yet, trumping even the overwhelming shock of their first portal. Stepping out here he’d immediately passed out as his returned magical perception crumpled under the collision of Hylia’s retracting protection, this worlds’ pulsing, fierce feel, and a third intervening force that tasted of electricity and adrenaline, barrelling in and exploding into a blinding, deafening scream of energy. 

 

Hyrule woke still suffering the after effects of his arrival, reeling and in pain, body throbbing as if with fever. His head screamed with all the desperate agony of broken bones rubbing against one another, the normal easy circulation of magic within himself thrown askew in the intersection of so many powerful and alien sources of magic ripping at one another within him. 

 

Trembling from the pain and disorientation, he curled up instinctively in a subconscious attempt to self-soothe, only to shudder weakly and gag at the movement, body completely overwrought as his nerves sang at the pain of the chaotic flow within his veins. He phased in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of the nervous fluttering of fairies upon him, their magic warm and bright and as minutely, poignantly painful as sparks off a fire to the razed, raw flow of energy within him. 

 

Something blazed like a sun to his senses, whiting out his perception every time he turned his burned out magic towards it, lured by a tantalizing song and promise of relief. Above him his sisters begged him to move, trying to heal him but failing, unable to interact with the source of his pain- the hopeless tangle and burnt thread skeleton of his internal magic system. 

 

One landed before his face, tiny hands patting anxiously at his cheeks as she lilted a plea for him to try. Hyrule blinked slowly at her, green eyes hazed with pain, before planting a trembling hand to the ground, feeling it shift and give way treacherously under the contact. Ears ringing loud enough to drown out the song and beat of the world around him, he pushed himself up and fell back in the same motion, head bouncing off the ground as he passed out once more. 

 

————————————

 

A strong voice called out, beckoning him with all the seductive allure of a spring in the desert, a fire in the dead of winter. Head rolling listlessly in the sand, he let his face drift towards the sound, body leaning towards it like a flower to sunlight, lost in the promise of care and love and healing . 

 

Hyrule clumsily threw out a hand, pulling himself towards the supernova as it beckoned, rewarded with a warm blush of pride and gentle encouragement, a citron burst around him. He dragged himself forward again, and the fairies around him rejoiced, their hope an olive-tinged smattering of rosy wood-pops. 

 

Every time he paused the call would soften and assure him, drop low until it echoed the heartbeat throbbing of the world, intense and relentless as it urged him forward.

 

Hyrule dragged himself along, gasping and shaking and covered in cold sweat, disoriented as his body fought to acclimate to the disturbed flow of magic within him. He was utterly adrift, lost without any connection in this strange new world to tie him to the energy he so desperately needed to start synchronizing with so it would stop warring within him and against his own battered power. But this world’s hero was nowhere to be found, and the others he could have used as a crutch to support his wavering magic in the interim were gone as well. 

 

Fairies are sensitive beings, more dependent on their environment and company in matters of magic than most realized. Hyrule was no exception, for all that he was of mixed blood- while each portal left him disoriented and weakened, the other Links served as anchors for him after the portal jumps and throughout their adventures when he was outside his own world, filling the gap between his magic and whichever strange world they’d been taken to, letting him lean into the soulbond of the corresponding hero to the land they were in and recharge as he would in his own Hyrule.

 

They weren’t here, though. And this world wasn’t his, and neither were these fairies, nor the being he was slowly approaching. 

 

And yet, like called to like, and he could not refuse the invitation. 

 

Hyrule moaned as the pain swelled past tolerating, half fainting as he went limp. Quick, ragged breaths jarring his body as he laid there, listening blankly to the flurry of panic and encouragement around him. As ever with every sign of faltering, the song swelled: a supplication, a command. 

 

Hyrule obeyed mindlessly, blindly drawing his quaking body forward, clawing through the sand and plants to roll like a ragdoll down a shallow slope, budging gently against something warm and smooth. 

 

“Little one,” came the crooning call, iceberg blue with pity as it washed over him in a breathtaking rush of magic and flushed heat. He shook wearily, clouded green eyes half open and searching, clawing at the smooth mushroom cap before him to draw himself up only to collapse across it, head hanging limply over the edge as he panted shallowly. 

 

One of the fairies flare brightly, desperate, and the burst of agony that answered across Hyrule’s raw magic drew a wordless cry from his lips, muscles tight in an excruciating flinch. The pain drew tight the knot of nausea, and he retched, pain gauging white-edged fluorescent pink rends across his vision, black following in its wake as he wavered on the edge of unconsciousness. 

 

Please , he mouthed, not even fighting to stay awake anymore, not knowing what he was pleading for.  

 

“Little wanderer,” the voice intoned, “ Link .” His breath shuddered, eyelashes flickering. “Attend me, dear one.” It commanded, and poured into him a small, blossoming spark. It landed and jumped to life within him, singing along the flayed lines of his own magic, the rush sweet agony. He curled tight with a strangled gasp before lurching forward, eyes unseeing as his senses were consumed by the supernova before him, all white energy drawn straight from a ley line, earthsong echoing through their voice as they looked into him and beckoned him home. 

 

Link. 

 

In that instant, Hyrule understood what drives moths to fly into fire, understood choosing to die for a chance to lay hand on the sun. Hypnotized, invited, his body moves forward, staggering three clumsy, faltering steps before collapsing once more, the flare that empowered him fading and gone as quickly as it had been gifted to him. His crumpled, trembling form was caught and cradled, the darkness closing in around the rejoicing of his fairy sisters and the warm oasis of the Great Fairy as she drew him into the well of magic, his last action a rough twist of his power, a click of rightness that let the world finally settle correctly around and within him, the raw scrape of misaligned edges soothing to a smooth slide water-on-glass slide before it winked out completely.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Blissful serenity is what he wakes to, and the relief from the scalding, toe-curling agony of before is so lovely that Hyrule can’t stop himself from sighing gratefully, uncurling with a luxurious stretch, rejoicing in how painless the world was around him once more. The Great Fairy holding him greets Hyrule with a coo as he relaxes to lay languidly in the waters of her fountain, rubbing abashedly at his eyes as he reclines trustingly against her once more, his fairy form dwarfed by her in every way. 

 

She hums in comfort, covering him in the blanketing depths of her magic, almost sending him right back to sleep before she eases away. He drifts for a moment, nearly senseless off of the unrelenting comfort of her presence, before spinning in the liquid-formed magic and climbing her hand, wings fluttering gently to clear droplets off of them as he finally turns his focus to her. 

 

She blazes still, flush with power and regal as a wild thing, resplendent in her well of magic. The Great Fairy feels ancient, the energy she wields a slow moving majesty, unspeakably powerful but bound tightly by its rules, abiding politely by the natural balance of the world. She smiles at him, rainbows dancing across her skin and low bell tolls ringing her joy at seeing him alert and well. 

 

Her jewelry caught the light of her fountain in odd fractals, the magic abounding in the air and water sending nonsensical spectrums of light skittering in any reflection. It was dizzyingly delightful to look upon, a joy to behold the bright colors dancing as physical manifestations of the fountain’s healthy, happy energy. 

 

His world had nothing like this, his own fairy fountains regal, despairing stanchions against the lingering darkness of his lands, too weakened by its taint to saturate their environment like this, the natural energy so potent he couldn’t help but shed sparkles in abundance as he perched on one pointed foot atop her finger.

 

Her voice was rich and playful as she greeted him, her magic already caressing his with familial affection. “Hello, little one. I am Tera, Great Fairy of the Gerudo Desert. By what name are you known?” She brought the hand he was lit upon artfully before her, pinky held delicately out as she gazed upon him, a stranger in her world but a fairy nonetheless. 

 

He gazed at her adoringly, helplessly hypnotized by the lull of earth’s beating heart pulsing in her veins. She smiled, bringing one finger to gently, gently caress his side, finally stirring him from his daze. Hyrule whirls into the air in a rain of sparkles, flipping to hover before her eyes, revitalized and brimming with bubbly energy. “I am Link, Hero of Hyrule, holder of the Triforce. It’s an honor to meet you, Great Mother.” With a flourish he learned from Aurora he bows, arm gracefully stretching behind him. 

 

“What a good son,” she lilts playfully, blowing a pink pollen soaked breath over him; as the motes landed upon him he felt the energy imbued within them soak into his skin, dipping gracefully from the air to land upon her hand as it rose to meet him, boneless and sated. It was like drinking a warm cocoa and feeling the heat blossom through his chest, but the sensation was prolonged and enduring, his magic swaddled in gentle heat and safety that slowly sparked into something peppier, less somnolent as he took in the magic and made it his own. 

 

“You’re an odd one,” she mused aloud without judgment. “I’ve never seen another child so glad for help, nor so desperately in need of it. Tell me, darling wanderer, what manner of mission brings you here to land at my fountain with so little regard for your health? I felt Hylia’s touch, but she would never dare treat fairy children so callously, nor be so foolish as to tear them from the nourishment of their own world’s magic.”

 

 Hyrule hesitated, because that’s exactly what had happened. Tera needed no further explanation past the hitch in his magic, the unsurety in his minute features. The buzzsaw hiss of cicadas welled up, her irritation and disappointment clear and resigned as those otherworldly eyes narrowed, looking through him. 

 

Her voice sang low and mournful, a horn lowing through desolate mountains. “She grows ever distant, the Goddess, and weaker in her influence on this land, by choice or circumstance. Sometimes I wonder if she’s energy left to care, or if she will choose to leave the fight to the mortals who are most affected.” She was not a little bitter about the matter, it would seem, and Hyrule blinked to hear it, to hear another voice the same doubts that the Chain had murmured around the fire at night. 

 

About whether this journey, this gathering of heroes, was the Goddess’ attempt to stop the cycle, when it had grown so very clear that each Link’s victory only gave a brief reprieve at best from darkness’s onslaught. If, having seen them all fail to destroy the threat alone, she had instead chosen to unite them together and finish off the darkness for good. 

 

(That was optimistic, that was giving her the credit of preemptive action. What they all feared, what could be seen in Time’s eyes and found in Legend’s soft whispers of doubt, was that all their victories had been a losing battle and this was the last attempt at winning the war, regardless of the cost to her heroes who had shown they couldn’t complete their heavenly ordained duty.)

 

Hyrule tucked the upset away neatly, though he knows Tera felt it roll through him, upwelling cold in a toss of waves before he managed to push it down again. “She’s gathered us together to fight a… strange enemy. It’s a dark creature, whose origin we don’t know, only that where it goes black-blooded, empowered monsters appear, drawn from all our worlds and infected with dark magic, all the stronger for it. It travels across dimensions, and she lets us follow after, leaving portals for us to move between worlds in pursuit,” he said awkwardly, offput by the agitated flurrying of the other fairies and Tera’s own simmering lava-crawl frustration. 

 

On his behalf, he could tell, but it was unnerving nonetheless from the normally serene and distant Great Fairies he was accustomed to. 

 

“No fairy would choose to leave its world, little one, not unless it wished for a slow death. For you to do so is dangerous, even if you are saved by the shared spirit of your companions.” The currents of her magic shifted, a deep riptide to the previous babbling brook. 

 

Her voice dropped lower yet, reverberating in the air. “Say it as it is; she gave you no choice when she plucked you like a flower from its stem, regardless of the risk to your life that had nothing to do with the war she’s given you.”  Brutal honesty like a bludgeon to the head, no less devastating for its bluntness.

 

He flinched back, pressing against the skin of her hand, sick at the truth of her words but still desperate for the comfort she offered by her very existence and the sweet siren song of her magic. It was nothing he hadn’t thought himself in bitter moments alone, or listening to Legend’s own furious slander of the Goddess’s uncaring nature, but… well, one likes to believe their life and happiness has worth to their patron deity, especially one who is so closely intertwined with the hero’s spirit. 

 

“I would have gone anyway,” he said softly, quivering and vulnerable. The truth he used to quiet the doubts and bitterness. 

 

“You still deserved to choose, even if it was known what that choice would be. That’s what makes the difference between a mere pawn and a trusted hero due respect. And you, Hero of Hyrule, are certainly worthy of respect.” She ensconced him in her hand, cupping gently around his fragile, trembling form in a show of protection.  

 

She breathed out through her nose, admitting, “She was not kind to our hero either, every advantage granted him proving to be a double-edged sword. Our Princess fared no better, unable to claim her powers until the kingdom was already lost, the only avenue left to her containing the beast in hope her hero would return before her strength gave out.  

 

“You said it’s been a millenia- maybe the holy blessing has thinned from the royal bloodline. You’re farther along in the timeline, I can feel the age of this world compared to the others,” Hyrule tried, though it wouldn’t be anything Tera wouldn’t have already known. 

 

“The Queen before her accessed her powers young as well, and without half the effort of our young Zelda,” she said with tempered fury, her frustration honed to a sword’s edge, sheathed peaceably for now but no less sharp for it. “Whatever the problem, it is not dilution of the power, but the Goddess at the root of the blessing.” 

 

She grew serious, long lashed eyes luminous with sharp consideration. “Perhaps that’s what this quest of yours is, then. Her final play at finishing it, her last intervention before the end, whatever it is. Our hero’s near failure and the suffering of our kingdom  has not spoken well of her, and this blatant disregard for your wellbeing on a quest of such importance does not bode well.” 

 

He nervously shifted to the other foot, tucking the behind the knee as he crouched down, wings tucked in close, still and tense. 

 

“After all,” she said huskily, “If she cannot care even for the heroes bound to the shard of her power her mortal incarnations hold, how can she possibly care for the countless lives that reside in her domain, utterly unconnected to her?”

 

He jerks, straightening his shoulders from their defensive hunch. “She does care! We hold the triforce, we can feel her love. Sacrifice is not the same as disregard ,” he argued. In every portal he could feel the humming protection Hylia offered them, the fierce, despairing love she felt for those she flung into danger. It was not terribly unlike the Great Fairies' own affection, maternal and unconditional. 

 

Tera may not be able to feel it, or see it in the Goddess’s actions, but he would not let her erase this. 

 

(Still, something whispered, flickering through his magic as doubt- his Great Fairies had always known and trusted in Hylia to do what was best for the land. Tera herself had said that in this world, She was distant, and that fact was clearly proven in the distaste and speculation that was all that Tera, in her great age, knew of the Goddess. 

 

Something was wrong here, and he had a suspicion that it was in this world that whatever event spurred Her decision to construct the Chain had occurred. This was the missing evidence in all the questions surrounding their quest, if he could only find someone here who had the answers here.

 

If a Great Fairy knew nothing though, who would?) 

 

Tera blinked slowly, in turn taken aback and proud at his willingness to stand before her, diametrically opposed and digging his heels in against her. The Great Fairy offered a small smile, pleased but shadowed by sadness. “She would risk you dying before you ever lifted a sword for her, at the base of the very portals she pulled you through. She would drag my hero away from the kingdom he sacrificed everything for, the only reward he ever got for his suffering a peaceful life as he and his world heal from the darkness She did nothing to stop.” A bitter laugh, the wish for something better for her hero -and for Hyrule, mouthy and newfound and already desperately loved- a bold slash of blood magenta across her magic. 

 

(There was a sense of failure Tera let him feel - stacked stones clattering into water and letting forth the dammed flow- though whose was indistinct, for all that bitterness surrounded it. Was it the heavy air of judgment from one who had sacrificed for those under her protection and held another to equal standard? Or Tera’s own failings, for which the Goddess did not step in on her behalf for those left unprotected in the wake of her misfortune?)

 

That thrumming voice had a thin edge of disdain, now. “She may love you, and it may pain her to submit you to such trials, but I cannot agree with her doing so at the cost of your free will, even if I understand the necessity of it all.” 

 

“We all do what we must,” he said miserably. “If a bloodless fight could end this, we’d never have been stuck in this cycle of conflict to begin with.” 

 

“On that,” she said with a coy, tired grin, “we can agree, my fiery little fae-born. But ever will I side with the small things, and as a being of great power myself I could not abide doing the same to my own children. I know you, and our Link, and have tasted his magic and the flavor of his suffering soul. Hylia is a Goddess, and I expect more of her than this abandonment. She may be a loving mother, as you claim, but she is not a good one.”

 

Hyrule was silent, letting the truth send its ripples through his mind, mournful of the fact as he launched himself into the air and slipped to rest amongst one of Tera’s curls, another fairy rubbing her cheek against his in comfort as they tangled together there, the fountain’s magic a balm despite the harrowing discussion, or maybe all the more so because of it. 

 

For all the heaviness of the topic, and the exhaustion and despair that should follow such dismal conclusions, Tera’s magic made it hard to remain unhappy. She had worn her emotions openly for him, let them play out in her magic for him to see and hear and examine, generous and fair in respect to his inability to hide his own doubts and feelings  from her at all. The Great Fairy’s magic was magnitudes more powerful than his, her sense of the world countless degrees more nuanced and precise. For all its surficial volatility though, at its deeper levels the nature of her power teemed with the patience of a planet, all the calm surety that something would always remain to survive, no matter how complete the destruction. 

 

It was an interesting twist on how hope usually felt; fierce and fiery, fingers clenched at the edge of a cliff. It was the kind of vicious, adrenaline-fueled hope Hyrule was familiar with in his own wreck of a world.

 

He probed more closely at this world’s magic, felt the worn thin quality, dappled with grief and injury, felt the ferality that had grown in response to the continued agony of Ganon’s attacks, like a beaten animal gone vicious in defense of itself. Life throbbed in untamed lushness, unrestrained in the devastation of the world and screaming in defiance of the threat of destruction growing in their castle, ever closer.

 

Ganon’s shadow had loomed over this world, leeching darkness and blatant threats and deadly promise here, and this was a universe that had grown mad and rampant and viciously wild under the approaching ruin and lack of any force to check it, Hyrule’s population drastically reduced. 

 

Tera watched him with ivy-drowned knowing, a reflection of the runaway growth of her world shining like animal eyes in the night at Hyrule as he tasted the ambient magic around him with careful respect. “Humanity may fear a looming threat, but nature has no such qualms; magic is magic is growth and fertilizer, and there is plenty abounding as the Calamity lay trapped in the castle.” She said lowly, and for all that she was fearsome he did not fear her. 

 

He was a fairy, and she would never harm him. 

 

( Ah, and that’s what she meant, isn’t it? For he’d never thought the same of Hylia ).

 

He left the protective shell of her hair, and took in his surroundings, to see the world that matched this fierce, feral song; a desert surrounded them, all red-gold sand and rippling air. The chorus of magic was wild and varied, the life here specialized and specific and hardy, all fluting interludes and quick drumbeat focus, bright darting colors and textured blurs as the creatures and plants hurried about their way in the gradually waning afternoon heat.

 

Tera’s fountain was surrounded by the usual flush of vegetation, climate inappropriate mushrooms and greenery sprouting up around it, a small oasis in the midst of the sun-scorched desert. Above them was a skeleton striped sky, ribs arching around them in somber majesty. 

 

Bones of a giant whale, or so Hyrule thought until he spiraled up and around it, curious. He fluttered over the two small limbs extending from its back, the residual magic still radiating in the skeleton strong enough to hold them together even centuries after its death, so potent was its aura. 

 

Not a whale at all, but a wind fish. 

 

Thank the Three Legend isn’t here , he thought. The older hero disliked talking about his previous adventures, but there were times he shared light-hearted memories same as all of them when they were relaxed around the campfire, and Hyrule well remembered the empty look in his brother’s eyes as he spoke of a creature, a wind fish, and vaguely mentioned the perils of dreaming. 

 

(Something about it didn’t fit in with the interpretation of setting goals too high for oneself , though. Something about it wasn’t as clear cut as he’d made it seem, all short, clipped sentences. Something about it brought to mind all the nights Legend sat up, sleepless and haunted, bond jumping with sharp fear every time he dozed off.) 

 

That look had anchored the story in Hyrule’s mind, book-eared it as a point of trauma in Legend’s adventures. If speaking of the being had been enough to bring the Veteran low, Hyrule doesn’t want to imagine what seeing the bones of the winged whale would have done.

 

(He wouldn’t mention this, when asked of what happened.) 

 

The Traveler touched a foot onto the blazing, bleached crest of bone, avidly scanning the landscape around him. In the distance, there were mountains and plateaus, and what could be a mirage-rippled city as well. An open expanse, and somewhere to be. 

 

A new world, and an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. 

 

Chest fluttering with excitement, he glittered his way back down to Tera, who was leaning her elbows at the lip of her flower with an indulgent smile. Hyrule tumbled in close, skipping over the magical pond and bouncing off a petal to halt gracefully in front of her, shedding a healthy fall of dark pink sparkles. 

 

“How far is… hmm. Where should I go, exactly?” He asked, suddenly aware of how utterly lost he was, no idea where the castle was or if it was even a viable option here, if it had truly been playing host to Ganon until recently. 

 

He knew better than most how long it took a city to recover after that kind of damage.

 

Tera’s eyes went heavy lidded and soft. “Link will have realized something occurred at the shrine, and I expect he’d come to investigate before too long. If you were with others, he may just be going around and not have gotten here yet.”

 

And Hyrule perked up, because that meant that while he may not get to travel across this new world, he also didn’t have to speed through it on a mission. So- “Do I have time to look around? I’m curious; even the desert here has more life than my own world. I’ll stay as a fairy, and I’ll be careful!” He promised hurriedly, swinging his legs anxiously as he hovered in place, the sprawl of explorable land calling around him, tempting him into it with little songs.

 

She probed at him with pearly insistence, tickling him as her magic skimmed over his assessingly, heavy and dozy before he shook it off determinedly and zipped around her head in challenge. Pleased at his recovery, she reclined once more in her fountain, watching him with heavy-lidded contentedness.

 

“No,” she agreed. “Unless you’ve charmed clothes and jewelry as our hero does I wouldn’t suggest a hylian form here- in the day it would only be a matter of hours before you’d succumb. But- do you feel it? The shrine?” She asked, those luminous eyes casting over to the odd building also located beneath the skeleton, all stone and glowing veins and spitting sparks. 

 

It buzzed to his ears, giving off an otherworldly glow. Like a lotus it rested upon the surface, but he could clearly sense where it connected to the ley line beneath, the same node that Tera herself rested upon, a pool amongst the river system of magic that ran along the earth. As a fairy, he could hear the song it sang even dormant as it now was; its magic had a quieter glow to it, the notes in its soft, limping tune injured and tired. 

 

“This is where I arrived, right? It seems… weak, now. Did I hurt it?” He straightened, suddenly worried, for the magic around the shrine was not that of a creature but carried a sentience nonetheless in the manner old, powerful items tended to.  

 

“Such a sensitive little thing,” Tera crooned, resting her chin on a ringed hand as she tipped her head lazily. “It was nothing you did, darling- in fact you were rather victim to the same misfortune the shrine was. Something disrupted the specific strain of magic they use; I know our ley line running through the desert was especially upset by the event, and all the Sheikah temples along it as well, though only this shrine actually brought anyone forth.”

 

She waved a hand carelessly. “If you can hear it now, you’ll hear it when Link arrives. They’re usually much quieter than this, even. When in use though, the swell in music is… difficult to miss. They light up rather exuberantly to the senses, both physical and magical,” she said with a mischievous twist of her lips. 

 

“It’s okay to use like this? All… off-kilter from whatever messed with its magic?” He wondered worriedly, head shifting between the shrine and Tera.    

 

“We’ve no way to warn Link either way,” she said reasonably. “He may very well know more of it than us, if he’s dealing with others like it. He can always jump to one of the other shrines instead and travel over; the desert holds no great danger for him, prepared as he is for its trials. Either way, you’ve time to explore if you like, my little far-flying wanderer. I’ll tell him where you went and have him wait here for your return.” She waved Hyrule off light-heartedly, indulgent affection ringing a plummy purple through her magic. 

 

“Stay clear of monsters though- don’t shift back to Hylian if you can avoid it. Your magic may be straightened out now, but it will take time to fully recover from the mess all that foreign energy left you in, so best not to stress it by changing too much,” she warned, sunny white glow heating up within her veins for a moment before easing back to a subtle, soft pearly fuzziness to her skin once more.

 

She sent him a playful smile. “Something tells me that you know what you’re doing, though, so I won’t hold here any longer. Be safe and have fun, little hero!” She flipped her hair, angel white strands catching a rainbow light in a feathery fan that settled back to perfect coifs and curls, before descending back into the depths of her magical pool in a laughter of splashes. 

 

He could feel her yet, of course, curiously assessing the shrine and the ley line, trying to puzzle through what had happened. Hyrule had no frame of reference, and wondered if there were lingering inconsistencies elsewhere as well, not just the shrine in question.

 

Not for long, though.  

 

The shrine conundrum was interesting, certainly, but he could feel the buzz of energy in his wings and the yearning for new discoveries in his veins. He fluttered over to the edge of the shade, perusing the landscape before him, before darting off in the direction of the village, still distant but a tantalizing beacon of thriving life despite the dry sand and torturous sun. Even from this far he could see the aura of bright, cheery rich hues, all fierce joy and determination, but undeniably content and proud, striding trumpet tones and clever strumming. 

 

This community wasn’t suffering, for all that they lived within such inhospitable heat and isolation. Hyrule… was curious about what that kind of flourishing looked like, sounded like. And there was plenty of desert in between as well, abounding with well-hidden, precisely adapted life. 

 

He was easily charmed by the beauty of the land around him, all bold warm hues littered with tiny, hardy animals- lizards and beetles flickered around between the dune shade, birds lazily lifting their heads at his passing from the shadow of their wings as they perched upon one foot in the glittering sand, curious and sun-slowed. 

 

A particularly large creature drew his attention, and he veered off his already meandering path towards the city to investigate, wondering at the size of it, and why it was slowly rolling underground as if through water. The spikes along its magic spoke of an ornery nature, but not a malicious one- a predator in a harsh habitat, nothing more. Sinister and dangerous in its own right, especially at this size, but none of the human intelligence of a true monster.

 

He landed lightly atop a cactus’ fruit, bright arterial red with an acidic burn to its scent, nowhere near sweet enough to draw his curiosity in this form. He was close enough to the mysterious massive creature to truly appreciate its size, now; he realized abruptly that it could have been the source of Tera’s skeleton, if not for the wings that clearly belonged to no underground animal. There was a small plateau lush with trees and plants around which it circled, and he could sense the water welling up, a gift in the desert for those who could brave the beast to get to it. He hesitated, glancing between the far-off village and the oasis, wondering if he had time to get a closer look-

 

Something shifted in the air. 

 

The ley line he had unwittingly been following pulsed where it lay deep in the earth, far deeper than the creature he’d come to see. Like a heart suddenly racing, its beat picked up, the edges suddenly fraying with searing flares and outbursts of magic. In an explosive wave a roll of energy flashed down its length, and he caught the bright, high song of a shrine as it drew the power in. It lit up and the song suddenly fractured, the magic falling to chaos as it flickered and fell apart to continue streaking along the ley line weaving through the desert like a great river. 

 

Another shrine awoke and took up the call, springing to life and crumbling as the notes burst in all wrong, jangling and jumbled and hurt with the backlash of uncontrolled magic. The music fell into an agonized saw of bow across strings and dove away. 

 

Onwards the wild wave of energy raced, and Hyrule was in the air, eyes wide and only vaguely registering the distant flash of turquoise flashes and lightning sparks that corresponded with what he was sensing. Again, the surge reached the junction where a shrine connected to the ley line and raced upwards, exploding in a destructive blaze of magic. Once more came that screaming crash of sound, all agony and confusion and tearing apart under the unbridled current of energy. 

 

It crumbled once more, and raced on, finally arriving at Tera’s fountain, and Hyrule’s heart stopped in terror as he suddenly feared for her, so deeply connected to the magic as well as she was. The pulse crashed into the pool the Great Fairy rested upon, but unlike the smaller intersections of the previous shrines the fountain’s nexus was large enough not to crumble under the onslaught. The waves rippled through it, the vicious flares lashing out and crackling with raw energy, destructive in its sheer mass of amplitude and untamed might. 

 

But there it stopped, hissing and writhing amongst Tera’s junction before gradually dispersing to something furious still, but benignly so now. He could feel the Great Fairy herself still, simmering with residual power and unease, but uninjured, if slightly spent by the effort of mitigating the damage of such force. 

 

He considered going back, began to fly in that direction once more to make sure she was fine and investigate whatever had arrived at her shrine, tired and fried and quiet, except-

 

Something had been left behind on that last burst, and Hyrule thinks he knows what it may have been. There had been a note missing as the pulse crashed on towards Tera’s fountain, a sentient song that had been hurting and breaking and afraid. Spirits had a feel, and this one had been familiar even at such distance, the all too familiar flavor of courage and sacrifice and will flaring in a distinctive spring-leaf green glow recognizable even as they splintered apart under the runaway magic. 

 

A person, and there was only one that they had been waiting to come through the shrines. 

 

They were still there, in the shrine that had gone dead quiet and dark in the wake of the overload. They were guttering like a flame in the rain, scattered as a dropped pot’s shards, but still alive, their magic still trying to gather itself back together again. 

 

They needed Hyrule, and he would never refuse such desperate urgency. He was racing across the desert sands before he’d given thought to the consideration, all his senses honed on that familiar, flickering spirit, their new brother who had been wrecked for sake of Hyrule’s recovery from the desert. He whizzed over the dark, lashing purple tendrils that marked which stones were monsters hiding in wait, leaving healthy space around the hungry voids of monster camps, painful ulcers where dark magic had corrupted the otherwise natural energy of the desert. 

 

The expanse of the sands and sky had been glorious before, and were yet remarkable as night gradually fell, the sand-lined sunset flaming in all the jewel tones befitting of the vibrant landscape. It was beautiful, and dangerous, and terribly, terribly large. Their newest companion had been left all the way across the desert; hours of breakneck flying later he was still not there yet, wings burning and magic -already over-sensitive from his own mishap with the shrines- thrumming in pain as it was pushed to its limit and then farther still. 

 

Night fell in a sweep of dark curtains over the bright colors of the sunset, stars like diamonds in the velvet sky slowly sparkling to life above. Hyrule wove over a tall rush of sun-bleached grass -flying miserably low now- and faltered in his flight as he failed to clear it completely, landing and rolling in the cooled sand to shudder and shiver there, exhausted and grimly determined. 

 

The other hero had been steadily stabilizing; Hyrule had been hyper-focused on the soft firefly flickers speaking an unknown language-cool evening air-sprout unfurling from an acorn after a terrifying span of a half hour where their magic had dipped so low he feared they were entering the final spiral and he’d be forced to feel them fade and die from helplessly far away. Now they were awake it seemed, though still not well judging by the clouded sense of confusion and odd blurriness to their aura, all muddied colors and hard-leaning notes.

 

He gathered himself slowly, noting their recovery as he shakily stood, deep pink glow dimmed by over-exertion, wings trembling with fatigue. He could afford a few minutes now that they were doing alright- 

 

- oh, he spoke too soon.  

 

There was a flurry of activity suddenly, blurred and dizzyingly quick, and an animalistic roar that carried through the cool desert air with painful clarity. 

 

Oh, no .

 

Hyrule was launching into the air without a thought, mind racing faster than his blurring wings. He hadn’t noticed before, - how hadn’t he noticed?! -  the magic all muddled in the area under the shrine where the ley line was still torn and ragged and bleeding energy. The giant earth swimming monster -sibling to the one he’d gone to look at so many hours ago now already- must have been dazed by the explosion of magic as well, so still that he hadn’t sensed it amongst the bleeding patches of blinding power in the earth, unconscious enough to give off no feelings or instincts for him to catch. 

 

It’s presence had been so subtle and still he’d not noticed it beyond the second of the great beasts, agitated and laying directly between his path towards the other hero, the perfect distraction and accursed decoy to the true threat so much closer to where his companion lay injured and dazed. He couldn’t have known. 

 

(He should have known; he could feel the third monster now , couldn’t he? When it was too late, when it was already attacking the other, injured and dazed and in no shape to ward off anything of that size.)

 

Unfortunately, it seemed it had taken their native hero by surprise as well, judging by the orange confetti burst of alarm and frantic flare of dancing panic. The Traveler was close, closer than he’d realized, but still so far away, damn, and damn again -

 

Minutes stretched like years as he pushed himself faster, reading the fire-edged resolve and steel beat picking up and settling into a determined war march, seeing the wild panic-edged agitation in the creature, fearful and seething and jittering in the flayed magic of the ley line it usually fed off of.  He blazed straight through the spattering of monster camps that circled the second creature, his tiny airborne form not drawing their attention, though the behemoth was still roiling close to the surface in a circling spray of sand that forced him to fly higher to avoid getting peppered by tiny biting granules. 

 

A few minutes later, an explosion rocked the night. 

 

Hyrule crested a dune just in time to look out over the last stretch of desert and see the creature hunting his hero finally break the surface, a rocky leviathan that dwarfed the small hylian form falling through the air beside it to bounce off one craggy flipper and get lost in the tidal wave of sand as the giant landed once more upon the ground. 

 

Hyrule could still feel him , he reminded himself as his heart tried to stop in his chest, a scream escaping without him realizing it. 

 

The creature shifted, before burrowing back under the shifting sands, tail sending a spray of grains into the air with a final flip before it disappeared to circle below, waiting and searching for any sign of the tiny intruder above for another strike. For his part, the other hylian was all razor focus and sharp panic, dragging himself free of the pile he’d been buried beneath and staggering to his feet, faltering for only a moment -and Hyrule could feel how dazed he was, hear the clamorous racket of his discombobulation- before managing to fumble his way to an outcropping of stone, the furious beast hot on his trail but too slow thank the light and the land , twisting in rage at its foiled attempt to kill Hyrule’s soulbound companion. 

 

Said companion was currently collapsed but conscious, white sparks of pain holding back the heavy weighted exhaustion. Hyrule came close, safe to hover over the sand as he kept his distance, aware of the hair-trigger wariness of the other as he coughed dryly in the dust-laden air, pawing clumsily at his eyes. 

 

This new hero was covered in the orange dust, grains pouring from his clothes still as he sat against the rock, long hair an indeterminable pale color under the stain of sand, the rusty granules caked around the moisture of his mouth and eyes and nose, clinging to the sweat of his skin. 

 

Hyrule drifted closer, but the other was too out of it yet to hear the chime of his magic or flutter of his wings, too focused still on wiping at his eyes-

 

All thoughts of being careful not to scare the new hero vanished at the sight of the pink tears weeping from the sand encrusted lids, the eyes themselves clearly injured from the debris caught in them during the chaos of the creature’s attack. Hyrule was suddenly in front of him, eyes wide and worried, tiny hands lifted to assist. 

 

“Do you need help?” He asked, flinching in sympathy as bloodied blue eyes flew open in alarm, watering and bleary as they tried and failed to focus on him through the injury. There was a single spark of violent intent that instantly cut out into sun-dappled confused recognition, hands raised to grasp a weapon suddenly falling as he squinted pointlessly at Hyrule, agitating the grains that the fairy could see still caught in the eyes, the pain dragging at the other sharply as hooks, small but not insignificant. 

 

The Traveler lunged forward as he saw his suffering, exhausted wings clumsy as he dipped awkwardly, crying, “Oh, no, don’t- close your eyes, they’re bleeding! Here, let me help you!” He heard an obliging tilt of song and wasted no time brushing the sand clear, tiny form much more conducive to the precision needed around delicate, injured eyes. 

 

The hovering was nearly too much for his fatigued wings, but he determinedly landed upon Link’s face, feeling the calm trust drift between them in bittersweet serenade as he gently braced himself upon the too warm skin, the other hero submitting himself to the care of a strange fairy with muted bemusement, golden and warm. 

 

He was kind and brave, his soul fitting in neatly next to the others in Hyrule’s heart and mind, the fresh, familiar feel of sticking a hand in a hole just to see what’s in there-feet silent upon the ground - berries in hand and smeared over a forearm, just to check a comfort, a reassurance of the other’s well-being. 

 

Hyrule nestled into the connection between their souls, gently tracing along Link’s magic and imitating the resonance there, leaning into the bond and drawing energy from this Hyrule through Link’s connection to this world, letting it feed slowly through their bond. It was only a trickle, but much-needed nonetheless, especially if he wanted to perform any significant healing on the other hero.

 

“Thank you,” Link murmured in a sand-worn rasp, cheeks curving into a smile under Hyrule’s feet. The fairy spared a moment to give a reassuring pat to his temple, a fresh fall of sparkles bursting from him at the sweet affection that rose within him. 

 

Hyrule hummed a moment. “I saw it jump, you know. I got here just as it came free from the sand, and I saw you go under- I was so afraid, you’re lucky you managed to make it to the stone in time, it was right behind you!” He said, agitation in his voice as the memory made the dread spark anew, for all that the hylian was here under his hands, alive and well enough for now. 

 

Speaking of- “Are you hurt anywhere else?” He said, tiny face pinching in stern determination as he laid both hands on Link’s cheeks and leaned in to glare at one closed eye in threat, as if he could stare him into honesty through force of will alone. 

 

“Can’t fairies usually tell?” The hylian asked, quiet amusement threading through his voice. “Usually when I let you out you guys just know what needs fixing, yeah?” It wasn’t a pointed comment, more of an off-handed observation. He was much too exhausted to have the kind of cutting edged-curiousity Legend or Four would have faced this with, only wearily accepting that there was an unusual fairy up in his face, apparently not that adept a healer when he was in desperate need of exactly that, blinded with a monster circling close by. 

 

Hyrule bit his lip, nudging angrily at his sputtering magic as he cleared the last of the sand from the right eye and went to move to the left only to dart back as it slitted open, setting light, warning hands atop the red-worn eyelid until it closed again, his voice as forceful as he could get it in its current lilting, melodic state. “No, leave it shut! I haven’t cleared the sand inside it yet,”he said, because nothing could be done so long as there were still grains left underneath the eyelids. 

 

He brushed a hand thoughtlessly along the creases of pain at the corners of the eye, trying fruitlessly to ease the discomfort. “Just, try not to move them too much, okay? Lids or eyes.” There was a distinct flicker of wry sufferance, an impish warbling note to his song, but Link obediently kept his eyes still. 

 

The hero didn’t let the silence linger long, shifting with a wince at his well-earned soreness before rasping, “What are you doing so far from the Fairy Fountain, anyway? I didn’t think Tera liked you guys wandering about with the monsters popping up more often again. Although, I didn’t think fairies cared to wander about on their own at all. Hylia knows I’ve only ever seen you all around the Fountains.” His tone was light, but Hyrule could sense the concern under the words; apparently the hero was taking his odd fairy behavior as signs of distress or confusion, believing him to be… what, lost? 

 

How sweet, when he himself was hurt and in no shape to help. Hyrule owed him a little honesty, if only because of how warmed he was by the utter lack of suspicion- even the soul bond couldn’t foster absolute trust, but that was exactly what he was being granted. The least he could do was something to earn such easy faith. 

 

He gave a soothing pat to the furrow that formed between those dirt-crusted eyebrows before bashfully replying, strangely self conscious at what he was about to share. “Sorry, it’s just- well. I’m not-” Realizing he was stammering, he stopped, letting out a self-effacing laugh. 

 

“I’m a special fairy,” he said flat out. “I quite enjoy wandering, unlike my kin. So much so that some would say -and have- that traveling is my occupation. I certainly prefer ‘Traveler’ over the more commonly used epithet of Hero. It makes me feel there’s something left for afterwards, you know? The heroism was just one part of the adventure, anyways. I would have been wandering regardless,” he said with a wistful smile, for the wandering had always been his favorite part of his adventures. 

 

All the curiosities, all the little wonders and small sparks of hope and growth to be found in what, at surface level, appeared to be desolate and dying land. If one walked long enough and had time to look closely though, there was plenty to be found, even in a kingdom as barren and scarred as his. Even the villages, sparse and rugged and ruthlessly tough as their dwellers were, stood as signs that there were survivors who would carry that hope forward, who could heal and recover in the weakening evil that had so long poisoned the land. 

 

There was no greater sign of hope than that, for him, and he’d travel as far as he needed to see it all, every last glimpse of restoration that showed his victory wasn’t empty, or futile at all. That he hadn’t just killed Ganon and banished evil from a land too far gone to recover, but truly, honestly done something to save his kingdom from its slow death. 

 

“An adventuring fairy?” The other wondered, breaking him from his introspection. “ You- you wouldn’t happen to know Wind, would you?” 

 

Oh, clever , and more attuned to magic than Hyrule first assumed, considering Link hadn’t sensed the fairy nearby. Or maybe just more sensitive to the nuances of the soul bond? He didn’t seem actively aware of it, but Hyrule would bet a pretty rupee that their connection had, at least on a subconscious level, been what gave him away, because the others certainly wouldn’t have described him as a fairy to this hero. 

 

“I do!” He cheered, “did you meet him? And the others?” 

 

“Some of them, though I wish he would have mentioned one of his companions was a fairy.” Link’s brows furrowed in rueful pout as he echoed Hyrule’s thought, the creasing of his eyelids drawing a flinch from him, though he brushed right past the pain. 

 

Hyrule laughed sheepishly, bringing a hand to ruffle the back of his head. “About that… I suppose the secret’s going to be out anyways.” He opened his mouth, before reconsidering, musing, “And we really do need to wash out your eyes before I can heal them. And take care of that monster too. Just don’t- don’t freak out, okay?” He says in a rush, pushing off before he could second-guess his snap decision. 

 

The soft, fluffy glow of Link’s innocent confusion was the last thing Hyrule sensed before he pushed his magic -burning lower than he’d like but still sufficiently bolstered from Tera’s generosity at her fountain- into the transformation spell, the overlap of songs and colors slipping behind the fogged glass senses of his Hylian form, harder to feel and harder yet to read. 

 

Hyrule staggered a little, the exhaustion hitting differently as the overworked muscles in his wings transferred oddly across his torso, the hefty chunk of magic the spell required eating an unfair amount of his stores. Shaking out his shoulders, he smiled at the other, shyly waiting his reaction before Link spoke, face still held in polite puzzlement.

 

“Why would I freak out?” The other hero wondered blankly, clearly still clueless. 

 

Definitely not so magically gifted, then, Hyrule amended.

 

“Sorry, I thought you’d feel the transformation magic,” Hyrule said, the other startling sharply at his voice, eyes unconsciously opening in surprise. “No don’t look, your poor eyes! It’s still me, don’t worry,” he rushed to assure, stepping in close, relieved as Link relaxed once more as the shock wore off, even this reveal not enough to shake his trust in Hyrule.

 

He worried that the other may still look, if only for curiosity’s sake- he could see some kind of emotion blooming on Link’s features -parsing others’ emotions was so difficult right after changing shapes, transitioning from finely tuned empathy to mere intuition always took some time- and sought to head him off at the pass before he could injure himself further; he’d seemed like the curious sort, if what he’d felt as a fairy had been right.

 

“I’m just a hylian, now; I can change between the two. Not everyone in our group knows, so Wind wouldn’t have said anything. It does lend me magic and healing abilities, though,” he said with no subtlety at all, gently taking Link’s hand in both of his and shaking it, relieved when there was no sign of pain or distress at the action. He beamed at the other, eyes squinting shut and ears perking out happily. “The name’s Hyrule, here to help!” 

 

Link’s lips twitched into a smile, face scrunching in good-natured bemusement before he flinched as the wrinkling of his eyelids agitated the sand in his eyes. Hyrule gasped at having even peripherally been the cause of pain, immediately scrambling for the canteen at his hip. “Oh! Here, I have some water, let me rinse the rest of that out for you-” he offered, already uncapping it and stepping forward. 

 

The other hero shook his head though, nearly knocking the water from his hand as he blindly waved him off. Hyrule fumbled and caught it, clutching it unsurely to his chest as Link continued, voice regretful.  “No, no, save that, you’ll need it. Just, can you try to brush it out, maybe? If I hold them open?” 

 

Hyrule reeled back, mouth open in a silent gasp of affront. He sputtered for a moment before incredulously replying, “Just scrape them off across your very delicate eyes? I suppose if that fails I can just try to use a cloth and hope it doesn’t grind the sand further in?” He huffed a breath from his nose, lips pursed in determination. 

 

“No,” he said in a firm voice, “water’s best to flush it out, and once it’s cleared away I can help heal you or give you a potion. We can spare some,” he promised, voice softening. He had plenty of water to get across the desert, Tera had said Link was well-prepared himself. Between the two of them-  

 

“No, we can’t.” Link refuted, voice sharp, the agitation in his magic betraying his attempt at a calm exterior. “I don’t have any supplies, at all . That water is going to have to get both of us to Gerudo Town, which is several hours’ walk, if we don’t get lost. I don’t have my map, and it’s an open desert,  so even that’s pretty optimistic, unless you know where you’re going?” He said, leaning forward a little, hesitantly hopeful. 

 

Hyrule swallowed- he had only been able to head here by virtue of his fairy form and the superior magical sensitivity it gifted him. As a hylian in a strange world, in a climate he was wholly unfamiliar with, he dared not make any promises that may leave them stranded in the desert- not that Hyrule would be in any danger, if that happened. 

 

He had nothing to fear from the heat, after all. But with Link’s eyesight impaired, he would need Hyrule’s help fighting that beast at the very least. 

 

He clenched his jaw. If Link had no items then apparently something had gone terribly wrong- most certainly with the transportation that had gone awry. It couldn’t be helped anymore, but it still took a moment to wrangle down the frustration and instead focus on the problem. 

 

The trek that had a half minute ago seemed inconsequential was suddenly a very real threat on Link’s life, and Hyrule had just been given front row seats to whatever tragedies awaited them.

 

Link sighed, head dropping back against the stone. “Right. Then we need to be careful with rationing that water. There are hydromelons, those will help if we can find some. Voltfruit too, though they’re so sour you feel like they’re dry.” He murmured, voice crackling. 

 

Hyrule hummed, thinking. He needed to assess how badly injured Link was before moving forward; there was no point making a mountain of a molehill if the situation could yet be salvaged. 

 

“I’m going to touch your face, alright?” He checked, before gently touching Link’s face, cupping under his jaw before softly skimming a hand over his cheek so as not to alarm him with a touch right at his vulnerable eyes. They were still weeping, the tears leaving clean trails in the dust on his face, hinting at tanned skin under the grime. 

 

He gently touched the eyelashes, calmly requesting, “I’m going to open this, don’t try to help, alright?” Link acquiesced, and Hyrule eased the lid up. 

 

It wasn’t good- there was definitely still sand stuck in there, fine grains caught at the edges and across the eye despite the continual wash of tears, the sclera already red with irritation and dotted with blood in a few spots where the eye had taken true injury. 

 

Hyrule had no way to fix this, not without flushing the whole eye clear. Resolutely, he checked the other eye as well, Link complacent beneath his hands. It was more of the same, the left eye slightly worse off than the right.

 

Neither one could be helped, and Link wouldn’t be seeing -or looking, Hylia help him if the hero so much as tried - out either of them until Hyrule managed to get him some proper help. 

 

“Keep them closed,” he said warningly, before placing a hand on Link’s forehead, snagging the other around the back of his neck when he instinctively pulled away. Too warm, just as he’d suspected; his fairy form was less sensitive to temperatures, but he’d hoped he’d been wrong in this. Link was already overheated despite the cool night-time temperatures -Hyrule went grim at the thought of how bad it must have been before the sun set- and his pulse was too quick. He’d have brushed it off as adrenaline but for the accompanying elevated body temperature, injured as he was and recently harried by a giant creature he could no longer see but whose insistent circling was perfectly audible around them yet.

 

He pinched the skin at the back of Link’s hand, frowning heavily as the skin resettled slowly. He was still glaring at it when Link gave an unsure, inquisitive “Um?”, voice cracking on the single syllable. 

 

He was badly dehydrated already, Hyrule realized, stomach dropping. He’d been here in the desert for hours before the Traveler had gotten here, but he hadn’t been conscious and aware for most of that time. 

 

Not that it mattered , he thought bitterly, when he’d had nothing to help him either way.   

 

Dread crawled up the Traveler’s throat, concern splintering sharply in his stomach as the severity of their situation set in. 

 

“You said you didn’t have any gear? No water? You’ve been here a couple hours- when was the last time you drank?” He asked intently, already unscrewing his canteen. 

 

Link swallowed as he thought, throat clicking dryly. Hyrule’s jaw clenched in helpless anxiety at the incriminating sound. “It’s been a busy day- maybe this morning? Though I was sick, so does that count-” Hyrule exhaled sharply, a feeling not unlike a sob catching in his chest. He immediately tucked Link’s hands around the canteen, suddenly desperate to get the other to drink, suddenly irrationally afraid his condition was going to nosedive if they waited too many seconds longer. 

 

“Here, drink. Slowly, and only a few sips, alright? You need it, so don’t argue!” He said sharply when Link tried to return it. The Traveler forced the other to bring the water he so desperately needed to his lips, eyes blazing in tightly reined fury when he turned his head to the side in continued refusal. 

 

Hyrule breathed in and out slowly, reaching for patience. “Please,” he asked softly, eyes closed and face tipped down in upset. 

 

There was a flicker across the bond and Link gave in, taking first a small sip, then immediately giving in to his body’s desperate thirst, forcing Hyrule to pull the canteen away lest he make himself sick. The Champion let out a desperate cry, leaning after it mindlessly, and Hyrule caught his hand and squeezed it, unable to give him more water, even if he needed it. 

 

They had to save it, at least for now, and they could not risk him throwing any up if his dehydrated body was overwhelmed by untempered consumption. 

 

“Give it a little time, then you can have more. Don’t worry, we’ll find some of those fruit you were talking about and then we’ll be able to drink all we want,” he tried to soothe, all too aware of how empty his promises were when they both knew how careful -how lucky- they had to be to make it out. 

 

Link rested against the stone, coated in dust and face tight with discomfort, clearly exhausted. His magic was still recovering from the shrine, flayed in the same way the ley line was, the way Hyrule’s own magic had been. If he was suffering even a fraction of what the Traveler had, he must be on his last legs already, and they still had a fight and trek out before they were somewhere safe. 

 

As he quietly despaired, that accursed creature let out another of its regular roars, ever prowling around the rock serving as their refuge. Hyrule watched it go, never wandering far before it looped around again, confident that the hero remained stranded there still on the small rocky outcropping. 

 

He felt the steady press of Link’s mind begin to go soft and pliable against his, the other giving into his exhaustion. Regret burning like a brand in his chest, Hyrule moved to rouse him; there was no time for him to let the other rest, not if they wanted to get on the move while the sun was still down.

 

First thing is first- he needed to clear the air so far as who he really was; the longer he waited, the worse it would be when it finally came up. Link hadn’t introduced himself at all yet, and Hyrule couldn’t be sure how much the Chain had told him of their mission, or their otherworldly origins. 

 

Worst case scenario, it still wouldn’t be too odd for a random person to recognize the Hero, even if it was always alarming and disconcerting when strangers knew him on sight -or it was for Hyrule, at least, yet another mark his tattered world had left on his psyche. 

 

Who knows, maybe this is the one hero who isn’t named Link, he thought, uncertainty piling on doubt after doubt, taking what should have been an easy, straight forward conversation and tangling it up as it left his mouth, all jumbled thoughts and awkward phrasing. .  

 

“Are you the Hero? Because I’m pretty sure you are, and I’m going to help you either way, but I think-no, you have to be him. I can just tell, you have that certain aura, you know? An inextinguishable spirit.” He said, voice bright despite his nerves.  

 

Rallying himself, he continued on in a determinedly cheery voice; at least he didn’t have to worry about his face or wringing hands - stop it! - giving away his rising anxiety. Link seemed utterly unbothered, listening calmly, so at least Hyrule hadn’t acted too embarrassing yet. 

 

Yet. 

 

He found himself falling into the familiar scramble, a flood of words pouring out as he tried to fill the other in. “Tera said you’d be coming through the shrine, but I wanted to go explore a little while I had the chance. It was okay- as a fairy I’m immune to the desert heat, and I could sense the shrine, a little. Tera said that when you use it they quote, ‘light up to the senses’, so I would know when to head back, and she’d tell you where I went in the meantime.” 

 

He paused, realizing suddenly that he was hyperfocusing on small points, unnecessary ones that Link certainly didn’t need to know about. Warriors always wore a pained face when Hyrule had to give a report;  in his wanderings -doubling as a means to rebalance his magic in peace- he often was the first to get the lay of the land when they arrived in a new Hyrule. The Captain had tried very patiently to coach him on what points were relevant, and what details to include but- 

 

Well, it always got away from him when it came to speaking. The words that were so hard to find and organize with the suspicious villagers in his homeland came all too easy amongst those he trusted, a boundless stream of thought he could hardly hold back when excited or nervous. Link simply tilted his head in interest, though, face still receptive and attentive.

 

Hyrule relaxed, and tried to calm himself, organize his thoughts as Wars had taught him. 

 

He went on determinedly, starting off strong. ”She was right; I felt the shrines light up, alright. I don’t know what they’re called, but four in total went nuts. Three of them felt different, though; there was another note, another color to the event that the last one missed,” he said, feeling the familiar frustration that came with trying to put words to the sensory experience that had no Hylian equivalent, and thus no way to describe in the hylian language. 

 

Colors, notes. It was like trying to describe blue to a blind man using ‘cool’.

 

You’re doing it again- don’t get distracted!

 

Hyrule shook himself, suddenly aware of the rabbit trail he’d almost gone down. Focus, focus- where was he, right-

 

“The third one was… sputtering afterwards, for lack of a better way to describe it. Like a guttering flame, almost. I was already about halfway there, and since it was the last shrine to have that interesting, extra aura I decided to check it out. I was close when I heard the explosion go off and the monster scream, and I got here as fast as I could after that to help.” 

 

Not fast enough, he didn’t say. He turned his head to the side, ashamed at how long it took him to get here, even if he’d done everything he could. 

 

Voice unhappy, he continued, emotions rising as he remembered the fear of his flight here, how for a second he’d thought he was seconds too late. “I got here to find a hapless hylian being flung around by a beast one hundred times his size. So I know you’re Link. Because you came through the shrines, yes, but also because no one else would manage to get themselves into this kind of mess. I mean, stranded without gear, blind, lost in the middle of a desert, and fighting a monster like that on top of it? It’s the exact kind of mess we get ourselves into regularly. ‘A complete clusterfuck’, as Legend would put it,” he said with despairing defeat, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.  

 

The Champion’s dropped open, clearly offended. Hyrule rushed to amend his statement, having been mindlessly talking, forgetting that Link didn’t know him well at all yet, for all that his mind and magic felt like an old friend. 

 

“It’s fine though! All those messes means we have plenty of experience getting out of them. This’ll be no different. We’ll figure it out together,” he said, pure determination. He was a survivor; all the heroes were, and he could tell this Link was no different. 

 

Link was silent as he took in what Hyrule belatedly realized was quite the flood of information, and the Traveler’s cheeks blushed under the freckles as he ducked his head. But the other hero only quietly said, “You can sense magic, then? And Tera can apparently feel the shrines when they’re in use?” He waited a moment, and Hyrule nodded before remembering the issue with that. 

 

Link correctly took his silence as a positive, though. “Huh, that explains a lot, actually. You talked to her, then? What was that like, fairy to Great Fairy? I’ve never seen the fairies directly interact with her, though they speak fondly of one another.” he pondered. 

 

His eyebrows drew together in contemplation, and he hissed in a breath as he aggravated his eyes again. Hyrule immediately brought his hands up, encouraging Link to relax his features with trailing hands and a bit of soothing down their soul bond. 

 

As the other’s pain eased and tension drained back out, he replied shyly; it was easy to talk about fairies, and for all that Tera had been a strong personality, she’d nonetheless had the same kind, fiercely protective streak that ran through all the Great Fairies. “It’s very much like talking to an Aunt who remembers you as an innocent little child and doesn’t seem to realize you’ve grown up since. The Great Fairies’ magic is highly soporific to us when in close quarters; we spend a lot of time napping and relaxing in the fountain to recover our magic or just rest. It’s important to their magic, and ours, that the fountains serve that function. When hylians come by we’re slow to react if we’re still feeling those effects; the Great Fairies would never let anything untoward happen to us, but if a fairy doesn’t feel like being bottled to heal a Hyrulian, they’ll fly off so they can wake up a little and properly hide,” he explained. 

 

None of the others -save Time- had known so much about fairies’ habits apart from Hylians, and they’d all been fascinated to learn as much from Hyrule, thankfully not pushing him on how, exactly, he knew it, because he hadn’t considered that before he’d gone off on the tangent the first time, and, well.

 

Well. As he’d already said, words came too easily around his brothers, all the more so when it's a topic he was passionate about. What secrets he had he’d always kept easily in the stilted conversations with strangers, and Aurora and Dawn had already known what he’d hidden from all others. Then he’d joined the Chain, though, and it was as if all the words that he couldn’t speak in his own world were finally bursting out, and his secrets were dangerously close to being caught up in the flow. 

 

It was through no deceptive skill on his part that had kept it hidden, that was for certain. Just luck, and he’d long resigned himself to it being outed eventually. And if he were honest with himself, he trusted them all. Trusted them with his words, with his thoughts… his fairy form, the curse of his blood, the complete triforce upon his hand, these secrets weighed heavy on him, and the chance to share that burden with those he knew down to his soul would always remain at his side- well.

 

Link knew, now, and it was going fine. All the long-learned fear that had held him back from telling the other seemed especially foolish now, in light of how easily the Champion was accepting something so odd as turning into a fairy. Somehow, Hyrule doubted he’d be much more ruffled by his other secrets, either. 

 

Talking of fairies got the exact reaction he’d hoped for- just as much interest as the others had shown, with Link perking up, lips parting in awe. “That… explains so much,” he breathed, and Hyrule let out a bright laugh, pleased and relieved, because the Champion knew that this wasn’t just cool new information or casually dropped facts.

 

This was Hyrule sharing about himself, trusting him with not only his own vulnerability, but that of his sisters, too. And even so, he didn’t feel an ounce of fear that it would be misused, just as he hadn’t worried for the rest of the Chain. This was about trust, and Link had taken it seamlessly in stride. 

 

Maybe… after this, when he told the others what had happened… he wouldn’t lie about this, or ask Link to. It felt like it was time for them all to know this, at least. Even if he didn’t tell them everything, this at least, it finally felt right to share with them. 

 

With any luck, they’d take it as easily as Link had; no fuss, no fluttering. Hyrule felt his anxiety ease away, the easy camaraderie on Link’s end helping to soothe his nerves. He breathed deep, spreading his senses to serve the dual purpose of calming focus and scoping the situation. 

 

They were duller to his hylian senses- he felt less anxiety as a fairy, but because of the mellowed degree of sensitivity stretching his magic out in his natural form had always been a solid way to center himself. 

 

The creature, ever present. The ley line bright as a streak of sunshine and chaotic as a wisp of smoke along its path. The shrine… quiet. Aloud, he commented, “I can see why this shrine felt so… still… compared to the others. It’s dark, but the one by Tera had blue and orange lights, bright as lightning- she said they were generally dimmer, but this one looks… dead.” His eyebrows creased, because it had been subtle as a fairy, but now-

 

“What?” Link snapped, jerking upright. Hyrule’s eyes were open and his hand was holding him back from standing in a flash, belatedly realizing what that had sounded like. 

 

Thoughtless , he chastised himself.  “It’s not,” he said, and hastened to clarify. “I could still feel it, though it was much more muted than even the others that flared when you arrived.” His eyes were wide, guilty at the distress he’d caused. 

 

Link latched onto the past tense with admirable voracity. “Could? Is it gone now? Did it go dark after it disappeared?”

 

“Oh!” Of course he didn’t know, Hyrule realized. “No, it’s not what you’re thinking. My magic sensing is much stronger and reliable as a fairy; my range is a lot smaller in my hylian body, and what I do pick up is harder to parse. I can feel the same things, if it’s strong enough or I’m close enough, but sometimes it’s like I’m suddenly lacking the instinct to understand what I’m reading.” He rubbed the back of his head again, because it sounded ridiculous out loud, silly almost. 

 

“I can’t feel it now , but it was dark when I arrived as a fairy, and I could still sense it then. I think it’s exhausted, and sleeping, or the shrine equivalent to it, anyway,” he said, confident in that, at least. If it hadn’t faded right away, he doubted it would at all. 

 

He looked up to the sky, noting the moon and the still dark horizon. Link himself was breathing easier, and it was best not to let his adrenaline completely crash when they couldn’t yet rest, not with a time limit. “On a more pressing subject, while I’m immune to the incoming heatwave,  you’re not. I don’t have to worry about overheating as a fairy, but you’re still very much in danger out here. I can get us back to the fountain and the shrine, but that means we have to take out that creature first.” His face took on a determined cast, eyebrows furrowed and lips thinned. 

 

“The molduga” Link said, and oh, it was always nice to have the name of the beast. “I can give you tips, but I don’t know how much help I’ll be blind. Even when they were open I couldn’t see anything clearly enough to be worth the pain.” 

 

Hyrule made an unhappy noise, concern rising anew at that information. He had to hold on hope that his vision would fully recover once they could treat him properly; they just had to get that far, which unfortunately meant-

 

“As much as I hate to admit it, you were right, about conserving water. Flushing your eyes properly would take too much, and it may not even be enough. We need to save all the water we can for drinking; you’re already showing signs of being badly dehydrated, and we still have a long walk ahead of us. Since I’m here, I think we can take the risk. I don’t like you staying injured, or blind,  but I can’t heal heat exhaustion or dehydration. I've only got green potions, which aren’t any use for rehydrating.”

 

He exhaled sharply through his nose again. Breath in. Breath out. Move past what you cannot fix. 

 

 He handed Link the water canteen, watching to be sure he didn’t drink too voraciously, but this time the other hero was more careful, pulling away after several small, measured sips. 

“Now-” he started, accepting the canteen again, only to find it barely any lighter than before. “Wha- drink more, I just said you were dehydrated!” He seethed, forcing Link to take it back, catching and holding his hands around it until he begrudgingly began to drink again. 

 

“You’re already in pretty bad shape, I don’t want you to get worse suddenly and collapse once the heat kicks in when some water in your system could have helped! It takes time to work, Link! By the time you’ve fainted you’re already on your last legs! We’re going to avoid that, alright?”  He glared, but it hardly felt -or was - effective when the other’s eyes were still closed. 

 

Link grumbled a grudging agreement, but drank more of the water, only a little. Hyrule waited, silent, until he huffed and took another sip.  

 

“Tell me about the monster,” he requested, eyes narrowed as he watched the other keenly. “Do we have to fight it? Or can we sneak past it?” 

 

“ You could, if you were flying.It hears and feels the vibrations on the sand. “ As Hyrule had expected, then, from his success flying past the second molduga without any reaction. “I’ve never managed to sneak away once I had its attention, but you can distract it with a bomb. Time it right, and you can manage to blow it up in mid air and stun it long enough to take it down, if you do it a couple times.” His magic slowed for a second in deep thought before snapping into a spinning motion.

 

In conjunction with his magic’s swirling, Link snapped his fingers, perking up and giving a vicious grin.  “I have bomb arrows! You can borrow them, if you want, they’re perfect for this.” He smiled in Hyrule’s direction, all renewed hope and vigor. 

 

The Traveler hated that he’d have to crush that exuberance, but better that than to move forward with any plan that had him at the wrong end of a bow and arrow- wielding it, as any member of the Chain would immediately agree with. “That’s the explosion I heard, then,” he said slowly, before reluctantly continuing. “No, sorry. As much as I want to use the bomb arrows - and I very badly want to try them out- I’m absolutely useless with a bow. Add in a moving target and timing and there’s just no way.” 

 

He ruffled his hair in embarrassment and shame, trying to feel out other possibilities. “Can we lure it away with the arrows? I could help aim you to fire one far away, if that’s all it takes.” He couldn’t aim the bow himself, but if Link was good enough, direction and distance would be enough. 

 

Except that theirs was a moving target, he immediately realized. Primarily underground except for a small window of time, and there was no way he’d be able to track it well enough for Wild to land a hit, and it wasn’t a risk they could take. Hyrule had never needed to use a bow before now, but he felt plenty of regret at the moment. 

 

“Even if it didn’t matter where it landed? A blind man would still do better than you?” Link asked, the tired humor evident in his voice killing Hyrule’s self-recrimination.  

 

His own voice was dull, because he was that bad. “I’ve had arrows shoot backward over my shoulder, and plenty just fall a few feet away.” He dropped his face into his hands, Link’s morbid humor spreading. “If I blew us up I would never hear the end of it.”

 

Gods, just imagining the others’ reactions… Well, he’d gladly take the ribbing. He’d take anything, as long as it meant they were all alright to do it, and that Hyrule and Link were there to take it. 

 

Link turned his face away, lips quirked and shoulders slightly hunched. Embarrassment?  

 

“I think blowing yourself up with your own arrows isn’t as hard to do as most people think, and that they shouldn’t judge until they’ve seen how easily it can happen first hand,” he said with great aplomb coming from someone who’d apparently blown themselves up before. 

 

Was he blushing under all that dust?

 

The Champion cleared his throat nervously only to fall to coughing, eventually spitting out dirt darkened saliva. Hyrule palmed his shoulder, but thankfully the fit didn’t last past that; hopefully it was just him clearing the lingering dust from his airways, not any issue with his lungs. 

 

“Okay,” he started, “so we can’t stun it with a bomb arrow, not unless we get lucky. Will it still jump up, though, if we lure it over?” 

 

Because if so…

 

Link was nodding already. “It’ll jump out, yes, but unless you hit it mid air it’ll just sink back underground where we can’t do anything to it. You have something that’ll work?” He asked, ears perked hopefully, catching onto Hyrule’s thoughtful tone.

 

The Traveler grinned. “I do! I can do spells, and one of them is really strong! Are molduga weak to lightning at all? Or immune to it either, I guess. I can always use fire instead, but it’s a lot weaker,” he trailed off, considering which was better with what magic he’d have after downing a green potion.  

 

The other hero was almost buzzing with excitement. “Did you say…fire? You better at aiming that than an arrow, ‘Rule?” His grin was near feral, eyebrows creasing in confidence. 

 

Why the excite-oh. Oh . Does he mean- “The arrows can be ignited by fire, too? Not just impact?” He checked, because if so, that changed everything. 

 

That gave them a chance.

 

“Oh, they sure can,” Link affirmed with that wolfish smile. “ If you can hit it with your lightning-”

 

“Thunder”, Hyrule corrected, but he too was jittering now with renewed adrenaline.  

 

“-Your Thunder spell”, the Champion allowed smoothly, “which is hopefully actually lightning and not literal thunder, though if it hurts that’s all that matters-” 

 

Hyrule was quick to quell any concerns. “Believe me, it’ll hurt. It takes a lot of magic, but it’s worth it. I’ve got green potions for that, anyway. But yeah, we hit it with Thunder, which should stun it-”

 

The other smoothly picked up where he left off. “We can use that chance to land some hits and scatter around the bomb arrows. We clear out when it starts to wake up, and before it goes under again you light them up with some fire, and-”

 

“Boom!” He cried, just as Link did.  United, and on the path to victory, one that even included explosives. He laughed in relief, because this plan? He had an excellent feeling about it. 

 

Link’s voice was rough, but deeply satisfied as he leaned his head back. “It should finish it off. That much damage is more than enough to polish off a normal molduga. So far this one hasn’t been behaving oddly, so I’m hoping it’s not one of the weirdly strong monsters.” 

 

And there was the answer to the question of whether Link’s world had infected monsters yet. 

“The black blooded ones?” He checked, grimly unsurprised when Link didn’t deny it. “Hylia, I hope something this big isn’t infected. Still, this is our best chance to deal some heavy damage. If it doesn’t take it out, we can worry about it when we get there.” 

 

Hyrule stood, brushing off the sand for a moment before realizing the futility of it when they were going to go straight back out into the desert. He sighed, resigning himself to the gritty irritation of sand along his skin, and turned to the Champion, gently gripping the other’s wrist and tugging to let him know it was to help him up. “You ready?”

 

Link grins at him cheekily. “So fast? We only just came up with a plan of action.” He pulls himself up, Hyrule lending a hand under the elbow and steadying him as he swayed, exactly as the Traveler had expected. He shook it off quickly though, steadying and waiting patiently for Hyrule’s next move,head patiently cocked.

 

“No time like the present,” the Traveler murmured worriedly, before pursing his lips and straightening himself to his full height. “You said you weren’t hurt?” Green eyes blazed an unseen warning. 

 

Link answered honestly, if more dismissive than Hyrule wanted to hear at the moment. “Just tired, and being blind doesn’t help. A fairy helped me before I came here, and nothing else happened past the shrine bouncing me around. I can do this, don’t worry.” His voice was less confident than it was serene, utterly unbothered by his current condition in the face of what was to come. 

 

Hyrule couldn’t help but bristle, his reply nearly hissed in his alarm. “‘Bouncing you around’? That’s what happened? You-” He cut himself short, pinching his nose and squeezing his eyes shut. Onetwothree, onetwothree.  

 

Not the time.  

 

His tone grew clipped, completely void of the thrumming anger from moments ago, solely business-like. “Nevermind. No, all you’re going to be doing is firing the first arrow, Link. I’ll have to get in and out quickly, and having to guide you will take time we don’t have. I don’t want to risk getting caught up by it or missing the chance to use the arrows because we couldn’t get clear in time.” He glanced at Link and did a double take, shaken from his residual fury by the sight of that relaxed, blase attitude finally cracking.  

 

Of course it wouldn’t be his own death that pierced the calm- Hyrule felt no small part of him wither in fear at the ramifications of that realization, of what it said of Link’s self worth. Even now, the emotions that had been muted under a layer of focus were breaking free from where they’d been pushed aside. All at once they shone through, all too easy for Hyrule to read: desperate fear of his shortcomings causing another’s death, of his being left to listen to Hyrule die and be utterly unable to do anything to help. 

 

It was a fear the Traveler understood all too well, and it hurt all the more to see it in another, to feel how it pricked at their mind when he knew how it gnawed and bristled.  

 

His voice softened, but stayed well clear of placating, firm and honest. “You’re not well, no matter what you say. I know you’re a strong fighter, and capable, but right now you’re dizzy, and blind, and you’re more likely to fall or get lost than land any hits.” 

 

Link snarled, not comforted in the least by the list of facts. “I know, I know. ” And Hyrule could feel that he did, and that it was that recognition that burned the most. “Sorry,” he went on, anger directed inward. “You’re right, and I would have seen that from the beginning if I was paying attention.” 

 

That was bitterly said, especially considering how quickly Link acquiesced, all told. Hyrule felt an uneasy pit grow in his stomach, disliking the amount of self-reproach he was seeing in the other, how much responsibility the hero was trying to shoulder upon himself alone. There was nothing he could do about it now, though, for all that it was clearly laid out before him.  

 

Link frowned deeply, begrudgingly admitting,  “I don’t like being helpless. We should be doing this together, but you’re going to be alone out there, and if something goes wrong I won’t be able to see, or help-” his breath caught, and his expression crumbled, all raw vulnerability. 

 

All the downsides of the hero complex; such familiar sights . Hyrule gently grabbed Link’s hands, holding them to his chest, and raised his head to look into the other’s face for a moment before closing his eyes as well, mentally stroking the soulbond between them. “No one likes being helpless, Link. You’ll have to trust that I can do this. I have your back, and once this is over and we can get you healed up I know you’ll have mine, too. It doesn’t mean you’re weak, just that you were one who got unlucky this time. If what you said is right, you’ve been running around to help the rest of the Chain before this; it only makes sense that you’re tired and hurt.”

 

The Champion breathed out, body drooping as some of the tension left; not gone, no, but stabilized, all the downward trajectory of his spiraling thoughts halted. Hyrule laughed sadly, heart aching at the thought of yet another of Hylia’s chosen heroes who bore far too much trauma and responsibility. 

 

Lightening the mood now that the situation was disarmed, the Traveler gently teased, “I, on the other hand, have practically been lounging on a beachside this whole time. So let me take care of this one, yeah? And worse comes to worst, I can always turn back into a fairy where the monster can’t sense me and fly out of range. It’s magic intensive, but I’ll still have enough left for it after the spells we’ve got planned. I’ll be fine, promise.” 

 

It didn’t mean much; such a promise never did when they faced the dangers and uncertainties they did, but-

 

He still said it, and he could see that Link took comfort in it, even as his face crumbled a little at the same time, a weak laugh escaping him; it could have been a sob, the perpetual stream of pink tears from his eyes hiding any true form of crying. Hyrule waited as he steadied himself, finally giving the Traveler a little nod, standing straight with a bracing breath. 

 

“Okay, okay,” he murmured, gathering his calm about him once more like a protective shroud. “Point me to a spot close enough for you to get to. I’ll fire one bomb arrow to get its attention, then another when it gets close to get it to come up. I can remember the position, you’ll just have to let me know when to fire again, alright?” 

 

“Perfect,” Hyrule said, and that was that, all their emotions tucked neatly away now that there were no imminent breakdowns on the horizon, only sharp, clean focus on the fight ahead of them. He plucked free a green potion and downed it, smacking his lips unhappily at the lingering dry feeling in his mouth, though the stretched, scraped feeling of his magic fell away, worse than he’d realized now that it was gone. 

 

There’d be hell to pay for that later, but with any luck and a little planning they’d be clear of the desert by then. 

 

He gave his magic a minute to steady and then set Link at the proper angle on the stone. Holding his side to keep him facing the right way, he told him the distance to aim for and watched with no little respect as the blinded hylian angled the bow -raising the weapon in a perfect vertical trajectory, X axis utterly unmoving- to an inner mark and stopped. Hyrule patted him to let him know he was still lined up, and Link nodded.

 

In the end, for all the worrying and panicking, the fight itself took less than two minutes.  

 

“Here we go,” he warned, and released. The bomb arrow launched, landing startlingly close to where Hyrule had instructed and exploding with more force than he’d expected of such a little bomb head. He stared for a second before the molduga suddenly began to approach the site, drawn by the noise, hurrying to hand Link another arrow.

 

He took it and nocked it, the bow held flawlessly on its mark. Closer that wave of sand drew, and closer, before falling to level earth. He could feel the creature turn deep before abruptly flipping about and charging the surface, picking up enough speed to be airborne when it breached-

 

“Now,” he said, seconds before it hit the surface. The arrow flew and  the molduga crested and rose in the air to meet it, taking the explosion in the stomach. The hit didn’t do much damage, evidenced by the way the beast was still able to scream, the sound furious even as it fell to land upon the ground, stunned on its side. 

 

Perfect.  

 

Hyrule gathered the magic to himself, splitting the air and charging it in a single power-draining rush before releasing the tension he’d created with a snap, letting it all slam together with a thunderous crack of lightning, the subsequent roar as the air expanded nearly a tangible pulse in his lungs. 

 

He shook off the brief dizziness from the rapid fluctuation of magic in his system, drawing his sword and leaping from the rock to charge through the sand at the beast, still living, spasming in the aftershocks of the electrocution. He laid into its stomach as soon as he was within reach, all power and no finesse as he stumbled in the poor footing the sand made. 

 

Making his way towards the more vulnerable throat, he continued to slash at it, leaving rents that poured blessedly uninfected blood. On a monster this size, though, even good hits were little but thorn scratches on the beast, all the blood spilling forth nothing compared to the stores within it still. The molduga groaned as more wounds opened up though, and he heard Link shout his warning: “It’s waking up, ‘Rule! Lay the arrows and get out of there!” 

 

He grabbed the quiver from his shoulder, hurling it towards the molduga’s head as he changed direction and sprinted away, cursing himself for getting lost in his string of attacks, for sneaking in just one more hit even after the creature had stirred.

 

He wasn’t fast enough. 

 

The creature spun, its tail lashing in too wide a circle for Hyrule to outrun the blow. 

 

Instinctively, he cast Shield, the dome absorbing the greater part of the force of the strike, leaving him to roll across the sand for a few feet from the momentum of the hit more than any actual impact. That didn’t mean it didn’t knock the air from his lungs, or leave his body feeling like one massive bruise just waiting to come into color upon his skin. Over the struggle to breathe again, he heard Link shouting again, and he couldn't understand the words, but the tone alone said he’d better get his shit together, fast ; he couldn’t take another hit like that, and he couldn’t spare the magic for Shield again.  

 

Hyrule forced himself to his feet, wheezing in a gasp, finding that the molduga had spun a full circle atop the sand when it had whirled around to strike him. The quiver that he’d thrown, the one that had bounced off of a fin to land frustratingly at its armpit, had rolled in the whirlwind of the spin, leaving a trail of bomb arrows all along the sand beneath the creature’s throat. 

 

He took it all in in a split second as the molduga reared its head up, magic gathering within it as it prepared to go back underground. 

 

Hyrule didn’t need air for Fire, only his sword- holding it flat behind him, he called flames to life upon its length, letting it grow hungry and hot before sweeping the blade out in a horizontal swing, sending the flames to shoot along the edge in a single fireball, sailing through the air in a straight shot. 

 

He may be unable to shoot an arrow to save his life, but he’d never, ever had problems hitting a target with Fire. It hit and the first arrow blew up, igniting the others in a trail of explosions all along the molduga’s underbelly right as it dropped down to enter the ground again.

 

Close range, vital spot, multiple hits .

 

The giant monster screamed, the sound wet and warbling as it bled out in the sand, the gory spray of its injuries slowly being eaten up by the growing spread of blood. Weaker, it cried out, before finally shuddering into stillness, the enormous frame slowly falling away to smoke, dissolving on the desert winds. 

 

That… could have gone so much worse , he thought with loopy giddiness. Hyrule gripped his sword and fell to one knee, stabbing the blade into the ground to help brace himself. For a second, he was sure he was going to pass out, hearing narrowing down to his own wheezing breaths and thundering heartbeat, sight blacking out entirely, before it all eased back to normal again. 

 

The light-headedness remained, as did the sick ache of his magic, all raw edged nerves again after the back to back events all messing with his system. He raised his head from where he’d dropped it against the hand braced on his pommel, unease flashing through him as he realized how close he was to Link and the rock he’d been left on to stay safe. 

 

Oh gods, if the molduga had lashed out just a little closer-

 

But it hadn’t. Hyrule didn’t need to worry about it, didn’t need to picture that or imagine what it would have been like, because Link was fine. 

 

Except Link was coughing, though, great hacking coughs that wheezed at the end, coughs that didn’t sound very fine at all . 

 

Hyrule determinedly climbed to his feet, blaming the sand for his unsteady gait as he strode to the stone as fast he could without risking keeling over himself, calling “Link? You alright?” as he approached. His heart jumped into his throat when the other didn’t answer, sputtering where he was bent over, limp hair shielding his face from view. Hyrule wasted no time hauling himself up, clambering with little grace towards the other and slinging arm about his waist to hold him up. 

 

The fit seemed mostly resolved, only a few lingering rasps catching as Link breathed heavily, the sound raw and painful but not wet or crackling. 

 

There was a strong sense of worry through the bond, the other hero’s fist gripping his shirt tight, and he realized that Link would have had no way of knowing what had happened at all, past the indistinct cries of the molduga. 

 

He scrambled to explain, guilt heaving up brutally within him,  but the words came out jumbled in the panic to sort his own tangled thoughts. “Sorry, it ended up a lot closer to you than planned. Thank the Three it wasn’t infected, that would have been bad.” He dragged in a shallow breath, diaphragm still burning from the molduga’s shielded blow; the dusty air caught in his throat and elicited a dainty, sharp cough. Just one, only little, but Link’s head snapped around as if Hyrule had been the one doubled over and coughing up a lung. 

 

“Are you hurt? You sound off.”  He accused, hands landing on Hyrule’s chest to blindly feel for any injuries or sign of pain. The Traveler let him pat him down patiently -he’d already proven unable to sense magic, so there really was nothing to find, actually, beyond soreness that he’d surely survive- before catching his hands once they’d gone still, unsure of what to do next. 

 

“Just tired,” he promised the other, feeling devastatingly touched at Link’s sensitivity towards his well-being already; even blind he’d been able to tell something was wrong, even if he had no experience reading what he was subconsciously picking up from their connected souls. 

 

“I used a lot of magic in a short time. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. I’ll take a green potion and be right as rain.” He smiled softly at Link, before holding true to his word and sipping down half; he’d need to be able to move without risking fainting, and as his magic was now he’d not only probably pass out sooner rather than later under the added strain of walking, but he wouldn’t even be able to scrape together enough power for his Fairy spell. 

 

That, more than anything, was essential. As long as he could shift back to fairy form, it was safe for Link to drink the water they had, such things being unnecessary to Hyrule’s survival in the magical form. It was exhausting and a poor idea with the state his magic was in, but it could very well save Link’s life -and Hyrule’s as well- when it meant they wouldn’t have to split what meager water they possessed. 

 

That thought in mind, he nudged the canteen into Link’s hand again, the other almost mindlessly beginning to open it before pausing and turning his sightless face towards Hyrule, ears perked and eyebrows furrowed unhappily. “Do you need some? I haven’t heard you drink any yet yourself.” The other hero weighed the canteen in his hand, lips pursing. 

 

Green eyes widened in alarm as he hastened to explain before the other took this as grounds to refuse water. “I’m fine- it’s the dust and smoke more than anything, same as you. As a fairy I don’t need as much as a hylian, and being immune to the heat means I don’t need the extra water nearly as bad as you do,” he clarified, reaching forward to rest a hand on the other hero’s wrist, gripping it reassuringly. Then his voice hardened with determination and warning. “We’ll find some melons and fruit and we’ll be fine, Link. You’re going to need help, and I won’t be able to help you if I’m fainting away myself. I’ll drink when I need it, I promise.”

 

Link hesitated, clearly unsure as he shifted uneasily on his feet, but without sight he had only the vague feelings from the unrecognized bond to go off of, and Hyrule wasn’t lying, despite the Champion’s doubt. Slowly relaxing, he turned his closed eyes to the sky, as if checking the moon’s height. 

 

“We should head out then,” he asserted. “ What time is it?”

 

Hyrule checked himself, but the stars were unfamiliar, and they had already found that seasons weren’t necessarily consistent between each of their Hyrules. “The sky’s still dark, but I don’t think dawn is more than a few hours off.  We should try to cover as far as we can while it’s cool.” 

 

He helped Link down the rock, hand held in his and the other arm hovering at his back in case he tripped or wavered, but the Champion proved stable enough, despite his subpar state of health. Hyrule squeezed his hand reassuringly, but didn’t let go. “I’ll let you know if there’s any hazards in front of you, okay? Just follow me, and let me know if you need a break,” he pressed, thumbing Link’s pulse subtly- still fast, still strong. 

 

He’d keep an eye on it; they all had too much of a history of pushing themselves too far for him to ever trust Link at his word, no matter how much he trusted the other to have his back. 

 

(Never mind how he himself felt shaky, his exhausted magic leaving him dizzy and wrung out before they even started. He had another green potion, but-

 

Well. He needed to save that for when the heat became too vicious; his water could never sustain two hylians across the desert, but one… 

 

One could make it, if they were determined. 

 

Hyrule had good faith that this hero wouldn’t prove the exception in that regard.)

 

Grudgingly he led them out, keeping a sharp eye on the other as he set the pace- not so brisk as to tire them as they pushed through the sand dunes, but nowhere near leisurely, the clock ever ticking down to sunrise. Link’s hand remained in his, holding just as securely as he was, fingers loosely intertwined as he trustingly followed Hyrule’s quiet directions without question.

 

He circled them cautiously around the other molduga, hating to add extra distance but all too aware that they could waste time fighting the creature and all the monsters that surrounded it. Trying to distract Link from his injuries and exhaustion, he kept up a running commentary on their surroundings; all the bugs, stones, and sparse plants, in the hopes that any of them would be of any use to the pair. 

 

None of them were the aforementioned fruit useful for rehydration, though. He swore to keep looking, because he’d seen at least the cactus, if not the melons Link described. Eventually the scenery grew redundant- it was still a desert, after all, and it would be overly rude to describe its beauty when they faced such danger at its expense, and Link wasn’t able to see it anyways, and so he asked Link a few questions about the rest of his world, fascinated by the concept of such lush nature and rampant wildlife as was described to him. 

 

(If every dune they climbed led to a short rest break at the top, well- Link never noticed that Hyrule was just as breathless, and he had no way of seeing the pale draw of his face under his olive complexion, freckles stark as he held a hand to his forehead as if to ward off the light-headedness with a touch. 

 

Not that the Champion fared any better- he wheezed unhealthily as well at every steep incline, energy already clearly well-exhausted even from the start, movements clumsy. They both needed such small reprieves, but it was for the best if Link was never aware of that fact- he’d already proven too willing to throw his own health away if it benefitted anyone else’s.)

 

Finally, dawn began to blush at the horizon, the sun gradually pulling its head free of the distant mountains to blaze in the sky. As soon as even the weak morning rays hit them the nip already vanished from the air, hinting at how quickly the day would heat up as it rose higher. Hyrule gritted his teeth, pulling Link by the hand to walk that little bit faster. The Champion staggered up the shallow sandy slope at the tug, drawing a sharp pang of guilt through him, but quickly settled into the new pace without complaint, breathing heavily but not desperately. Hyrule could feel his own mouth growing dry as he talked, and was finally forced to call it by the growing rasp in his voice, regretfully telling Link that they should hold off talking for now to help conserve water. Better now, than to worry the other as his growing dehydration became clear in his voice or, Hylia forbid, an actual issue.

 

Link gave a crackling, sad chuckle, nodding his agreement with a rueful twist to his lips. The bloodied tears running from his eyes only added to the mournful look, even if he seemed only miserably resigned, not enough energy left to be truly upset. It was highly concerning, but aside from a reassuring squeeze there was nothing Hyrule could do to help, and the knowledge curdled in his stomach, needling angrily at his own faltering health remorsefully, even if he couldn’t have rationally done anything differently. 

 

Time dragged on in the silence, their trudging footsteps seeming slow when it was the only sound that stood out amongst the discrete wind over the sand. 

 

It was difficult, navigating like this- he was too far to feel Tera’s fountain, but he could trace the ley line underground with somewhat reliable accuracy, knowing it would lead there eventually. The problem was that it looped and turned, far from a straight line and far from traveling at a consistent depth from the surface. In some areas it was close, but in others it dipped so low he couldn’t feel it any more, and was left wandering blindly in the hopes that it didn’t turn too harshly while down deep and appear outside his range again, leaving them lost and completely aimless. 

 

It hadn’t happened yet. Even if it did, he’d scope around until he found it, but- well, they didn’t have time for that, and Link certainly didn’t have energy to spare either. If Hyrule was exhausted from the high level spells he’d cast back-to-back, then the Champion was far worse off, already having been left unconscious to the desert’s mercies after being ravaged by the ley line. He may be up and walking yet, but already his gait was hitching and heavy, shoulders heaving and hair dark with sweat. 

 

He didn’t complain though, and Hyrule could admit- he got so lost in tracking the ley line, in getting as far as they could while it was safe to do so that he completely forgot to check on Link past his initial struggles. 

 

Gods, but he’d even seen it coming. 

 

For all his admirable tenacity, even the Champion couldn’t push himself forever. He stumbled, Hyrule easily bringing his other hand under his elbow, eyeing the sand tumbling down the dune where it had given way under Link’s feet  before suddenly perking up and squinting- was that a pair of melons? The hydromelons? There was certainly some kind of greenery there, and that could be an edge of an orb-

 

(Distracted, he missed the way Link’s legs quivered, one knee giving way as he shook his head to clear it, lank, sweat soaked hair flipping heavily in the air over a too thick tunic. 

 

Idiot- wasn’t Link the blind one? He’d chastise himself later.) 

 

It wasn’t until the other hero faltered again that Hyrule realized how he’d fallen a step and a half behind, their linked hands pulling sharply as Link struggled to keep his feet beneath him, staggering on wavering legs. Inhaling sharply through the guilt, Hyrule immediately lunged to support him, drawing an arm over his shoulder and grasping Link around the waist. The other hylian slumped into his side, muscles shaking with fatigue, reluctant to release Hyrule’s hand; he compromised by gripping Link’s wrist instead, the skin slick with sweat under his fingers, shaking hand twisting to weakly wrap around his wrist in return. 

 

There was certainly a distressed edge to the Champion’s breathing now, he realized with dread, and no hill to blame it on. He took in the angry flush of the other’s skin, sweat long having dampened the dirt enough to be wiped away. Link looked young, and clearly exhausted, all softly angled features stippled with scars along one side, sunburn overlaying it all already. 

 

“Okay, here, sit down,” he coaxed, eyes darting nervously between his struggling companion and the possibility of life-saving fruit resting several hundred feet away.  “I think I see some of those hydromelons,” he said, stomach sinking when Link gave no reaction past a weak flick of his ears in Hyrule’s direction. “I’m going to go over and get them, alright? I’ll be right back.” 

 

This, at least, drew a soft sound of acknowledgement. He patted Link’s hand and rose up, watching the other for a moment- form slumped where he sat, head resting on his knees- before his eyes hardened and he raced towards what he prayed to be the hydromelons that Link so desperately needed. 

 

What he found was a pair of pale green, faintly striped fruit, larger than apples by far but nowhere near Twilight or Sky’s pumpkins. Smaller than he’d like, if they truly were filled with potable juice. 

 

Oh Hylia, let these not be some kind of poisoned melon doppelganger , he prayed as he cut them free, staggering slightly in the shifting sands as he trotted back to Link. 

 

Link, who had crumbled bonelessly to the ground, who wouldn’t be able to drink anything if he was unconscious. 

 

Hyrule shouted, breaking into a clumsy sprint, the sand suddenly twice as unwieldy as he stumbled through it, near falling with no hands free to brace himself as he scrabbled haphazardly to get back to his fallen companion. The sprint left him nearly fainting as he fell beside him, only for his heart to stop in relief as the Champion raised a hand in a wobbly wave, drawing himself up on his elbows, head falling back wearily, though his eyes remained closed.  “‘M fine, ‘Rule. Just sore,” he said in a worryingly slurred tone. “And hot,” he grumbled, dropping back down onto his back. 

 

Blinking through his own spinning head and dotting vision, Hyrule wasted no time pressing a hand to his forehead, hissing quietly at the scalding temperature there, sun-baked and hot from exertion. “You’re already too warm, and it’s barely midmorning,” he said, unsettled how Link’s worsening condition had gone so unnoticed by him. “Here, I’ve got the melons- there were only two. Can you open them? I don’t have any desert gear, but I have some clothes and boots that aren’t as insulating as what you’re wearing.”  The Traveler dug out a short knife, carefully folding Link’s hand around it when he hummed his assent, taking it and the melons with sure hands, even if they did shake. 

 

“Should have thought of this hours ago,” he muttered angrily to himself as he turned back and brought out his spare clothes. Link didn’t look good; rivulets of sweat ran down his skin, pooling already in the divot of his collarbone and darkening the fabric of the tunic that Hyrule had only just realized was unreasonably thick. It wasn’t terribly hot yet, but if Link continued wearing something that warm he’d be in serious trouble long before they reached Tera. The odds were already against them; they didn’t need to pile anything onto the wrong side of the equation.  

 

“Yeah, well I should have said something to you,” Link said, wryly bemused at Hyrule’s upset. “And to be fair, hours ago it was still cold. Damned deserts just can’t make up their minds, can they?” He gave a tired smile, holding a melon up for the Traveler, a hole cut around where the stem had been. 

 

“Here, you can drink it. Then we’ll cut it open and we can eat the rest.” Hyrule watched as the Champion drank his down, careful not to spill and going painfully slowly, even as he could sense the desperate thirst the other was fighting back to avoid getting sick. Once sure that Link would keep his share down, Hyrule followed suit with his own melon, too dizzy to risk passing it up. 

 

He held the melons as Link changed, considering the state of his own body now that he had focus to spare. It wasn’t good; there was a tell-tale throb running under his skin, a hollowed-out feeling to his magic. He’d been light-headed for a while now, and half the reason he hadn’t noticed Link’s decline was because he’d been fighting through his own. Even now the world seemed bendy around him, warping unsteadily. His limbs felt weak; he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to get up again, the adrenaline from his earlier fright and sprint having wiped the last of his endurance. At this point remaining Hylian would only use precious resources; he would be no use helping Link, not when he himself could barely stand.   

 

He closed his eyes in despair, less so for the magical cost of switching and more for the implications of the other hero’s state, and the manner in which it was sure to suffer as they continued on. Unlike Hyrule, he couldn’t just escape the heat in another form. 

 

Unlike Hyrule, he’d have to suffer and scorch and walk on, and all the Traveler was going to be able to do is hope he can get them to the fountain before Link’s body gives in. 

 

He was still wearing the headpiece from before when he sat back down to finish cutting the fruit for them to eat. Hyrule watched keenly as he slid the knife in and prised the halves apart slowly, the melon finally cracking cleanly under his careful leveraging. From there he took over, slicing them and carefully handing the wedges back over for Link to eat, face blissful as he took delicate bites, greedily sucking at the juice before it could drip into the sand or trickle down his hand. 

 

He gave Link all but a single slice; he himself would be fine as a fairy on that alone. The hydromelon was warm, with an odd cucumber-like after taste; it was bliss, absolutely amazing, desperation making it heavenly.  

 

Thirst sated for now, Hyrule watched as Link got up, wobbling but stabilizing fine on his own.. He went to follow, only to fall back to one knee as the light-headedness threatened to break into a full faint. 

 

Looks like his time was up, then. He drew out the other half of the green potion, downing it with grim determination. His magic stirred, the weak trickle expanding out to a healthier stream within him. Not much, but enough for this. Heart aching, the Traveler staggered to his feet, thanking the powers above when the world wavered but held back the dots at the edge of his vision. 

“Just a minute, Link,” he said, staring hard into the sand, as if willpower alone could let him be strong enough to help the other. He swallowed hard, but forced himself to go on as the other turned, shoulders stiffening as he picked up on the tension in Hyrule’s voice. 

 

“We have to talk about what we’re going to do from here. I don’t have any cooling spells or heat negative gear, and you have only the one; I can tell it’s not strong enough for the desert heat, either.” He took an unsteady step closer, clasping one of the Champion’s hands as he drifted the other over that circlet, blessedly cool against the fierce heat of Link’s skin. He let some of his magic drift into it, strengthening the charm, and could only hope it would be enough to save him. 

 

“I can fall back on my fairy form, but it’s… really tiring, so once I do I probably wouldn’t be able to swap back again and still be of help,” he said dully, frustration tickling at his eyes with tears he couldn’t afford to let fall.

 

Link… relaxed. Hyrule froze, poking at the bond for hints that he couldn’t read. Was that-

 

Relief? Of course , of course it was, he realized with dismay. Because it would only make sense that this hero, already heat-sick and battered, would be more glad of Hyrule’s assured safety than concerned that he would have no physical support should he need it. 

 

When he needed it. 

 

“Okay,” Link agreed readily, swaying unconsciously into Hyrule’s hand where it yet rested at his forehead. Gods, how aware was he, even now? Against better judgment, the Traveler let his fingers drift to the other’s temple, sending some healing magic to soothe the worst of the sunburn and ease the headache Link must certainly have- he still had enough to shift, though each use outside of that would leave him in increasing danger of fainting if he changed back without another boost from Tera. 

 

“I’ll have to change soon.” He admitted, only to have Link nearly hit him in the face with a clumsy hand  as he quickly dragged his fingers up Hyrule’s arm to test his temperature with an answering hand to the Traveler’s forehead, all that easy acceptance swallowed up by apparent concern. Eyebrows creased in concern as he brought the other hand up as well, palming the Traveler’s cheeks, but the problem wasn’t his overheating, as the other feared. 

 

No, he was warm but only edging into the beginning of heat exhaustion, where Link… the sun was only a few hours into the sky, and already the other was showing worrying symptoms. The only thing he could do now was keep the other calm as possible, lead him the most direct route and keep an eye out for hydromelons and voltfruit. 

 

“No, no,” he assured in a choked voice, chest tight with fear, angry that he couldn’t switch places with the other. He brought his hands up under Link’s elbows, biting his lips as the other leaned gladly into his support. Gods, how would he make it on his own?

 

“I’m still fine, don’t worry. Or, I will be fine. I’m afraid if I went on much longer I’d start needing to tap into the water as well, but that would still be a little ways off.” He caught the guilty down turn of Link’s lips and continued on, hoping to distract him from needless worry for Hyrule , of all the people in this situation. 

 

“More importantly… Well, I said I could sense magic as a hylian, still, right? But my range takes a hit? Well, we’re still far enough out that I can’t find Tera yet, not as a hylian. It was easy when we were at your shrine; I knew which way I came in. But out here… there’s no landmarks or anything and I… well.” He let out a forced laugh, because he was all too aware of how high the stakes were if he messed up the route back- yet another reason he couldn't afford not to take up his fairy form. He’d be able to feel Tera’s fountain for sure, and lead them on a straight path easily. 

 

Ha. 

 

As if any of what was to come would be easy.  

 

“I’m not the greatest with directions under the best conditions. And out in a strange, open desert may not be the best conditions. I just don’t want us to get off track, not when we can’t afford to waste time in this heat.” 

 

He hesitated, before laying out the last of his hand, the long-shot, last resort scenario. “And Hylia forbid, if you do end up needing my help to make it, we’d at least be close enough for me to find Tera even in this form and make it there.” He said, as if he wouldn’t be semi-conscious at best if he was forced to turn Hylian again without another magical boost, as if he himself wouldn’t rapidly fall prey to the desert temperatures without any kind of protection at all in that form. 

 

If it got that desperate, none of that would matter- he’d take all the risks he had to if Link needed him, if the only other option was to leave the hero for dead. 

 

“You’re right,” Link agreed, frowning at the fact that Hyrule would dare put his life in danger for a stranger’s sake. 

 

The hypocrisy, he thought, greatly pained and painfully proud, may just kill him.  

 

Still, Link rolled with the change in plans with surprising grace. Or maybe he was just too sick and tired to gather the energy to panic over the ramifications , Hyrule’s anxiety whispered. He throttled it into silence with the knowledge that Link had already proved almost distressingly level-headed so far, despite the mess he’d landed in. It spoke well of his character, and poorly of the experiences he must have endured to remain so utterly unruffled in spite of everything.  

 

His voice was nothing more than a weary rasp as he held a hand out to Hyrule expectantly.  “The heat’s already… wearing on me, somewhat,” he admitted, as if he weren’t the walking example of moderate heat exhaustion. “Hand me the water to hold, then we can head out. You’ll have to keep chiming, though. I can’t exactly hold your hand as a fairy,” he said with a small smile. 

 

Hyrule gave a trembling breath of laughter, feeling like he was going to cry for how attached he was to this hylian already, how afraid for him in the hours to come. Still, he responded in kind, because Link had the right of it- all that was left was to make the most of a bad situation. “Make sure you tell the rest of the Chain this when we get back, about how I was the one to guide us to the Fairy Fountain, across a desert, nonetheless! Without a map!” He said, perking up a little at the looks on their faces. 

 

“I doubt any of them could… do… better,” he said, slowing to a stop as he realized that unless he was willing to answer the inevitable ‘how?’ he’d best not tempt them. Not until he was willing to share his fairy form with them, at least; it would be terribly rude to flaunt a secret he wasn’t going to tell, and terrible for morale if he made clear that he still felt he had to hide things from them. 

 

They all had secrets, and they all knew it, but…even with his own hidden talents, the thought of the others’ trust only going so far hurt. He wouldn’t do that to them. 

 

Maybe… maybe once this was all over, with Link at his side he’d finally have the courage to tell them this, though. It’d be nice, to change freely, to dance among them in his fairy form as he’d so often longed to.  

 

“Nevermind, ugh. If they ever asked how I don’t know how I’d explain it. Just- I’ll point out Time and Legend, and make sure they know, alright? I need this win.” He said, gently joking. It was worth it to see the beaming smile on Link’s face, to feel joy break cleanly through the muted haze of his emotions for even a moment. 

 

He grasped Link’s hands, tipping their foreheads together; they were nearly of a height, Hyrule ever so slightly shorter. The other’s skin was damp and scorching against his, fingers trembling in his hold. He squeezed them tightly, and Link responded just as fiercely back, before pulling away, standing firm, chin high. 

 

“Go on then, ‘Rule. Don’t let me stop you,” he said, waiting expectantly. 

 

A moment of hesitation, of wondering if this was truly the best course of action, and then he shook himself free of the doubt and reached inside himself, taking his magic in and, like seeing both aspects of a visual illusion with a indeterminable shift of the mind, molting down to a smaller form, both hardier and far more vulnerable than that of a hylian. 

 

Ah, the world was so much brighter now, weighing heavy on his magic even as all the stresses of the scorching environment eased off of him. He dipped low, drooping as his magic ached at the shift, overused and intent on screaming about it. 

 

That was fine though, he could power through the pain, just so long as it held out long enough to see Link to safety. He could feel the fountain clearly now, in the distance, the ley line winding towards it like a meandering river of sunlight under the earth. 

 

He knew the path, and with a chiming cry he spurred Link forward, the other quickly falling into a fugue state as he followed placidly. Hyrule opted to fall into a continuous song, flitting through various wandering tunes as the hours dragged past, senses split between keeping their heading straight, watching for the tell-tale darkness surrounding hidden enemies, and keenly observing Link’s condition, prompting him to drink each time his spirit seemed to waver and edged  too close to collapse. He was all too aware of the dwindling time between each stumble, of the ever lighter weight of the canteen, of how each time the other hylian rocked back into motion his steps were clumsier, heavier. 

 

He did what he could to make it easier, choosing flatter paths and staying clear of any potential fights. For the most part, it was at least easy enough to swerve a safe distance around the strange, camouflaged monsters and keep out of sight of monster camps. He could sense where stalfos lay in rest under the sands, blessedly inactive in the day- if there was one boon, it was that, for there were many reposing from the sunlight, often in groups. 

 

Then again, if it were night, Hyrule would have been able to help fight them off, so he promptly took that silver lining and melted it down in the fires of his simmering fear and frustration. 

 

Glancing again at the other hero, he felt the growing panic bubble higher yet. Everything he could was far too little, nowhere near enough to save Link as they finally edged past the halfway mark, none of the distinctive liquid songs of the desert fruit near enough to expend the energy to retrieve, nor risk the added time. Not when there was still water, when they were already running on the cusp of too long a journey for Link’s body to bear. 

 

Hyrule was afraid, and there was nothing he could do about it.

 

Behind him, Link was gasping, feet dragging in the sand, tripping into wavering staggers as he continued to drag himself forward. His skin was furiously red and blistered in sunburn, lips cracked and bleeding, held determinedly shut despite his heaving breaths in an attempt to avoid losing any water. His ears, though, remained perked, ever swiveling towards Hyrule’s song, his encouragements, his increasingly concerned jittering shimes. 

 

When finally a cactus stood tall along their path Hyrule fell to the scorching sand with a barely restrained sob of relief, clutching his hands over his mouth to avoid alarming Link. He forced his screaming wings back into the air, flight wobbly and uneven as he led the heat-sick hylian to the pathetic slice of shade and the life saving fruit. 

 

Gods, Link couldn’t even lean against it, with those spikes. Another rush of furious tears ran down Hyrule’s face, enraged at the unfairness of it all, at his own helplessness as Link suffered right beside him. Heedless of the vicious stab of needles along his body and feet, he tore the fruit from the cactus limbs, rolling them across the sand to Link’s limp hands, far too weak to carry it in this form. 

 

The other hero tore into them with terrible, trembling care, hands shaking viciously as he peeled them and consumed the fruit slowly, letting it settle in his stomach even as his mind screamed in near rabid desperation, only held back by wrought iron control. Hyrule curled close by his neck whispering his support, telling him to wait, he was doing so well, yes, another bite is fine, take your time . 

 

Once the fruit was gone Link curled within the shadow, breath gradually slowing to a shallow rasp. It was still too quick for a resting rate, as was the pulse that fluttered beneath Hyrule’s temple at his throat. Drawing himself to an unsteady hover, the Traveler began his work on the ruin of sunburnt skin; he couldn’t let it get worse for fear that when all this was done he wouldn’t be able to heal burns of that severity, and if he could lessen some of Link’s suffering, even a little, even for a short while, he would. 

 

The Champion’s eyes though, were still beyond help. Hyrule brushed his hands over the discharge running like tears down Link’s cheeks, thicker than water and a troubling orange tone. “Not tears,” he murmured, disturbed. “I think it’s pus or blood, maybe both; the color’s all off. Your eyes definitely got scratched, and it’s not helping that the sand is still in there. I can’t heal it, or I risk the granules getting embedded.” 

 

He landed upon Link’s shoulder, hands fisted and arms wrapped tight around him, trying to hold himself together as the panic tried to stampede out of control, trying to look past the fluttering of Link’s magic beneath him and steady himself on the earthen pulse of the ley line instead. 

 

He took a shaking breath in, sadly wrapping the hazy, limp mental presence of the other in as much comfort as he could offer, carefully clear of any of his fear or trepidation. Firming his resolve, he looked sadly upon the Champion’s shuddering, exhausted form; they couldn’t afford to stay any longer. More rest wasn’t what Link needed, and he would find no water or coolness here. 

 

He kept his voice purposely light, steady and musical as he coaxed the other once more into action. “We’re getting closer, but there’s still a ways to go. The sun’s practically overhead; there’s not going to be shade here much longer, and I don’t see anywhere else for us to shelter in the midday sun. Is there more to drink inside the cactus?” He asked with little true hope; Link had said nothing that hinted towards such an option, and they were already well into the degree of desperation that would have brought it up by now. 

 

“Poisonous,” the other murmured, voice little more than a rasp as he gave a single, half-hearted shake of his head.  It was exactly what Hyrule had expected. The answer was a solid blow that drove the air from his lungs all the same, a hand squeezing around his heart. 

 

“We have to keep going, then,” he said numbly, pressing himself close to place a hug across Link’s cheek, swallowing heavily at the heat raging there. “I’m sorry, Link. I know it’s hard, but we’re going to make it,” he promised softly, fiercely, and strength sent through the soulbond had no power in the physical world, but he felt the other’s spirit steady nonetheless. 

 

He pushed off gently, falling a short ways before his shrieking wings finally managed to flicker back in rhythm and lift him up again. Link smiled in his direction, immediately cracking open his lips, to Hyrule’s immediate frustration. 

 

He didn’t heal them again -couldn’t spare the magic, not if he wanted to keep his range up enough to still feel the fountain. As he wore his stores down it shrunk, but luckily- for now, at least- they were drawing close enough that even that reduced range was close enough to feel her still, a northern star as target for their straight shot. 

 

On, they went. He continued singing, forced away from mindless tunes when he kept finding them grow anxious and hurried, all too clear a reflection of the storm of panic and agitation welling within him. In his wake Link grew rapidly worse under the merciless blasting heat, his strides deteriorating to faltering stumbles. The placid weakness emanating through the soulbond drifted towards mindless confusion as his lucidity began to slip, his overheated body finally beginning to give way in truth. 

 

Still he followed, though, and even as Hyrule’s own magic began throbbing in a more dangerous manner and his own diminutive form threatened mutiny, he pushed on. Link had it worse, and Hyrule had to be there for him, had to keep going so that if… if…

 

He looked ahead, the fountain still out of sight but closer, ever closer in excruciatingly small margins, every unsteady step a victory. 

 

He looked back at the hero dragging himself up from where he’d fallen to a knee, feet braced wide as a newborn colt before Hyrule realized what he was waiting for and chimed, drawing him to fumble forwards towards him once more. Realization set in, heavy as a stone, the finality of it silencing all the panic. 

 

When. When Link finally lost this battle, Hyrule would be there to take him the rest of the way. 

 

Countless steps later, the heat-stricken hylian faltered to a stop, swaying like a boat caught on ocean waves. The blurry haze of his mind twisted, and suddenly he was pawing at his eyes, utterly heedless of Hyrule’s attempts to stop him, his desperate cries falling on deaf ears. Link looked around, blood hazed eyes unfocused as he scanned sightlessly over Hyrule’s shivering form before closing them again with a juddering sigh. 

 

Quietly, voice hitching around stifled sobs, Hyrule sang once more. For a moment, it did nothing, just as futile as his previous cries, Link’s mind trembling and melting back to a vague, senseless daze. 

 

Desperate, he plucked their connection sharply, rewarded with ears once more swiveling his way. Recognition trickled in with agonizing slowness, devastatingly free standing as the sieve the heat had made his mind into lost how he knew Hyrule, or why he was following him. 

 

There was only trust, blind and baseless, as he once more fell into motion. 

 

If Hyrule’s song was broken around the full-body sobs at the feel of such lost, hazed devotion, there was no one around who would remember it. If he was to be the light that guided Link home, then nothing would silence him- not his own sobs, or the choking fear that nearly stifled his voice to stillness. Not even the way his own body threatened to give out, vision and magical sensing alike warping around him in warning. Not the amount, but the use of it, he knew, though it was much the same difference in the end. 

 

The sun was falling in the sky now, for all the good it did. The temperature was still climbing, the heat of the day not yet at its peak as the air rippled and ground seethed, even the wind too hot for any relief, only sending Hyrule to fall to the sand until the gusts died down, too weak to remain aloft when it gusted. 

 

Taking off from the ground was little better for saving energy though, the searing agony of his magic as it moved through his ravaged system nearly enough to keep him from flight altogether, body seizing up under the onslaught of screaming nerves. 

 

It took several tries, but finally he was aloft again, shaking and unsteady, glow dimmed and unhealthy. He sang even as his voice warbled weakly, hitching around his pained breaths. 

 

Link was beyond noticing, anyways. Hyrule was fairly sure he was hallucinating, from the muddied emotions he could pick up, the slurred, senseless murmurs. 

 

More concerningly, the way those ears sometimes flicked away from Hyrule towards an unheard voice, threatening to draw him from the path to the fountain, to his salvation. Always, the Traveler had managed to draw him back, singing ever more sweetly, ever more pleadingly, drawing his face back towards the distant fountain with tiny hands and gentle persuasion through the bond. 

 

It fell through Link’s mind without even a ripple, but ever did he return, always coming back to follow Hyrule forward. 

 

Heart breaking, the Traveler could only continue to lead him to further ruin, magic useless in the face of illness such as this. 

 

He glanced back again at the sound of a wordless whine, a fearful “Link?” on his lips, only to find those tortured, bleeding eyes open again, Link himself far away and lost in his own mind. He scrubbed a hand roughly over them, and Hyrule dove forward with a scream, faltering to fall into his chest, awkwardly clawing his way up to hang pointlessly off of that hand- 

 

The damage it could be doing , he thought, before his voice tore from him in a scream. “No! Close your eyes!”

 

He dragged himself into the air, noting that the ravaged eyes followed him, his glow -weak though it was- still a point of attention even in the too sharp brightness of the desert around them. 

 

At the confusion and disconnect clear in the delirious stupor of the hero before him, Hyrule let his voice soften. “Close your eyes, Link,” he reiterated, ever so carefully gentle as the other’s attention remained on him, the single point of focus in the muddled mess that could be felt through the bond and heard in his magic. 

 

“They’re hurt, remember? You shouldn’t be touching them,” he lilted, relief washing over him as Link finally obeyed, continuing to hum a lullaby as he drifted his hands over that dry, scorched skin. 

 

Trust was a painful, beautiful thing sometimes. 

 

Link kept his face tilted towards Hyrule, turning into his touch. He swayed forward, trying to press closer to that sole comfort in the hellscape around him, and there was nothing to catch him but a fairy who could only tumble out of the way himself to avoid being crushed. He screamed as he flipped through the air, fearful for Link even as his own wings seized and failed. 

 

They both hit the sand, the dead-weight impact softened by the blazing grains. By the time Hyrule pulled himself from the sand mound he’d fallen into, Link was, surprisingly, already on his knees. He’d been sure the other fainted, had been afraid that this was the point he’d been fearing all along.

 

Hyrule forced himself into the air, leaping down the gentle slope of a nearby dune to give himself a boost. Faltering enough to be forced to push off again with a foot, he managed a tortuous flight back to the other. Link’s head rolled limply as he lurched to his feet in one leaning, crooked push, one leg shaking and nearly giving way before he managed to catch himself, curled painfully forward. 

 

“Link, you have to drink,” he urged breathlessly. “The canteen’s right here, follow my voice, yes! Here-” he darted forward, fumbling until he managed to get the cover off, Link utterly unaware of his intervention as he brought it to cracked, bleeding lips and drank it down voraciously. The Traveler’d have been worried he’d throw it up but for the fact that there were barely two swallows there, for all that the other tried to shake more out, licking desperately at the mouth of the canteen. Finally, he dropped it, fingers going lax as he slowly slumped forward, muscles shuddering. And like that he stayed, nearly doubled over and swaying, gasping unevenly through lax, bleeding lips. 

 

Hyrule tried to coax him forward again in a tear torn voice, even as he looked upon a hylian clearly pushed far past his limits. “Come on Link, this way, okay? We’re almost there, I promise,” and he wasn’t lying- the fountain was just at the edge of sight, the skeleton stretching over it warped by the heated air, dancing tauntingly in the distance. 

 

“We’re going to make it, just keep following me, okay? That’s it, you’re doing so well Link, keep going, we’re nearly there-” he swore, knowing that Link was far beyond understanding his words but unable to stop, not when his voice still drew the other on, when those ears still tilted his direction. 

 

The Champion dragged himself forward like a broken thing, movements heavy and too loose, like a poorly guided puppet leaning along its strings, swaying drunkenly as he struggled along. His forward momentum broke, staggering sideways as he tried to keep his feet, swaying to stillness at the crest of an easy slope. His limbs quivered and contorted in vicious cramps, face drifting skyward for a moment. 

 

Link wavered, knees buckling, as a confused whimper slipped from him, soft and lost. He faltered, sand sifting as he fought numbly to stay standing before just… crumpling. Body falling suddenly loose, he tumbled back down the incline he’d climbed, rolling like a dead thing before he finally came to a stop, face down and still in the sand, utterly unresponsive to the burning earth upon bare, scorched skin. 

 

The vague, confused delirium that had hung like a sickly fog at Link’s end of the bond vanished in a violent, instantaneous severance. 

 

Hyrule was upon him before he’d realized he was moving, screaming and begging and patting at the other, ducking into the shadow of his crumpled body to feel for his pulse- he was breathing yet, body quaking through fast, shallow gasps. The heartbeat beneath his fingers was skittering wildly, desperate and overworked. 

 

He viciously pinched at the delicate skin under his jaw, yelled into the ears that had been ever turned his way, but there was nothing. Now that he dared to face it, across the soulbond was the still silence of true unconsciousness, even the fervent panicked song of his magic dreadfully quiet, fluting scatter of discordant notes distant and indistinct. 

 

Thoughtlessly, he yanked -magic screaming and fighting him-and crumpled to the ground himself, hylian and exhausted and too hot and fai nting buttherewasnotimeforthat -

 

The world thinned out around him as the pain dug its way through every vein in his body, every fiber of muscle suddenly set aflame. His body shuddered as it fought the shock of agony, exacerbated by the way his stores had been drained once more, another stressor on his already frayed and flayed magic. He choked in a strangled gasp, trying desperately to anchor himself awake, green eyes rolling back as the color drained from his already peaked face.

 

It was too much.  

 

His head lolled, lips lax and only the whites of his eyes showing as his body continued to twitch in agony, refused the painless escape of unconsciousness. He forced another breath, burning air hot against his lungs as he dug his hands into the scorching sand, finally settling back within himself enough to clench his eyes shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. He curled up, teeth gritted as he cringed from the merciless sun, the heat searing up from the ground, the molten agony pouring along his own bones. 

 

Lost in his pain, he was only aware of the approaching fairy on the most distant, subconscious level, his sense of the magic around him in tatters. Within him it curled and writhed, screaming at its ragged edges, the taint of this unfamiliar world like acid on a wound.Suffering with no recourse, it struggled and strained within his veins, weak and wounded and furious.

 

 A new note of pain rose even as the general overwhelming scream of agony reluctantly slunk down to an insistent pulsing throb, the constant background complaint of a bad burn. Glazed green eyes, dark and feverish, slid open, slowly focusing on the dancing light of a younger sister, fretting over him. 

 

“Brother, wake up! You’re close, don’t give up now!” She cried, lightly landing atop him and fluttering tiny hands over flushed, freckled cheeks. “Oh, your magic, what did you do? No wonder Tera’s so worried! Come, come! Up, up, and to the fountain with you!” She grabbed a handful of sweat dampened hair, tugging it as she bounced into the air, all grace and ease. 

 

Her magic helped, native and lively- too small to bolster his own, which far outpowered hers, but a small breath that saved a flickering flame, just enough of this world’s magic to steady the tumultuous chaos of his own. 

 

This, he could work with. Face pale and tight still, shaky from residual shock and lingering malaise, he forced himself to his knees, and remained there. The fairy danced around him worriedly, chattering her concern, but could do nothing further to help. He spared a moment, gasping and shaking and stretched too thin, until a drip of sweat tumbled from his nose to simmer on the sand. Beside him, Link’s wheezing gasps were quieting. 

 

This was not a comfort. 

 

He let himself fall towards the other, running his hands uselessly over the other’s faltering form, before whirling towards the fairy, half fainting as the world tried to catch up. 

 

“Help him, please! I know-” he coughed through the dry air,

 

With a wordless cry of pain he forced himself to move, grasping the other hero and sitting him up. He tried to lift him, to draw him over his shoulder, but his body was only barely holding on, sending him folding to the ground with a sad wheeze, Link limp and unresponsive atop him. 

 

Fine, fine. 

 

Hyrule dug himself out and stubbornly repositioned the other back into a sitting position, gently tipping his head to fall back rather than bonelessly to his chest. His hand lingered across his forehead for a moment, breathless with fear at the heat of the other, before he brought his hands up and under Link’s arms to drag him instead, at once thankful for the sand’s easy slide and internally cursing at the blaze of heat it was handing along as it pressed across the Champion’s body. 

 

Mercifully, he didn’t have to stretch his senses to feel Tera’s fountain; he’d likely have passed out if he’d tried. She was there, in sight, so close. Alone and fresh to the desert, the trek would have taken him ten minutes.

 

He didn’t know if Link had that long.

 

Hyrule stubbornly dragged his limp body along, letting them both tumble down slopes that were agony to climb, not bothering to stifle his own cries of pain or choked moans as he struggled in the heat, against the rebellion of his own body and magic. 

 

Halfway there, Link awoke, delirious and murmuring. Hyrule, edging on fainting himself, blinked back the dots, gasping his name as he let himself crumple to his knees, Link falling neatly into his arms. He jerked a hand over the others’ eyelids, felt the lashes tremble beneath his palms, the sweaty slick of his own skin sliding over the bone-dry heat of the other’s. 

 

“Link, can you hear me?” He begged, feeling the weak tickle of the other’s mind against his, stirring, listening, but not understanding. He sobbed, because he could feel the other’s pain, could hear it even with his own dulled, pain-dampened sensing, keening and suffering, but-

 

He couldn’t do this, no matter how he wanted to. He was slumped into Link just as much as the other rested against him, bracing each other upright, his pulse heavy in his ears. He dropped his head to the nook of the Champion’s neck, letting out a sob of fear and frustration and hopelessness.

 

“Link, you have to get up, we’re so close, please .” He choked, aware of what he was asking, aware that his own weakness was piling more suffering onto the other, his failure forcing the difference to be taken from someone with nothing left to give. 

 

He dragged Link up with one fumbling arm, patting clumsily at his face, forcing his voice into something harder, more demanding, even as his heart broke at the pain-addled confusion of the other. “Stand up, Link,” he ordered, the words cutting like broken glass in his mouth, all slicing self hatred and shame. 

 

Weak, without even the dignity to take the suffering of it upon yourself

 

But he forced himself up, nearly slumping all the way over Link as his head went dangerously light, the world threatening to fall away as he breathed shakily through the fit, clinging with white-knuckled desperation to the faltering sense of the other hero to anchor him here. Link went easily enough to his knees, and a great heave from Hyrule left them both staggering like drunks as they tried to stay up, leaning upon one another as if between the two of them they could manage a single stable unit. 

 

Link nearly slipped back down before Hyrule secured a limp arm over his shoulder, nearly sobbing in relief as the Champion found his feet somewhat, taking his weight from Hyrule moments before the Traveler’s own shaking legs would have given way. 

 

He still had to wait a few moments before moving forward, lest they collapse regardless. Green eyes glued to the looming skeleton, he forced them forward, shuffling and weaving like drunks, vision dipping in and out as he forced his wavering mind to focus, to stay here, blinking determinedly, gasping encouragement to Link. 

 

Because for all that he’d asked too much, dragged the Champion past his limits, forced him from the painlessness of unconsciousness, those ears, sunburnt and blistering, tilted towards his voice regardless, the dimmed mind leaning into him like a flower to the sun- he would sooner choke on sand than be silent, no matter how dry his throat or how painful it was, hot air scorching to burn inside his lungs and esophagus, then take that small comfort from him.

 

By the time they staggered under the first band of shade, Hyrule was half out of his mind with fear that Link would collapse here, that he would collapse here. There was a concerning ringing in his ears that blotted out any of the fairy song around him, slowly wavering louder and louder. 

 

Tera was there, leaning as far from her fountain as she could, eyes intent and full mouth pursed. 

 

“What do I do?! Please, he’s not even aware anymore, I- I don’t know how to use these shrines-” He cried, wild-eyed and panicking as they fumbled to a stop near the building, crackling with angry energy still. Locking his knees, he swayed dangerously as Link’ weight bore down hard against his side, the other’s feet clumsily shuffling through the sand as the pair wavered before sliding to their knees. 

 

Hyrule continued to look at the shrine with horrified confusion, giving no notice to the pair of fairies fluttering worriedly around them as he clutched Link to his side. 

 

Like a siren, Tera’s rich voice rang out, a croon, an answer. “Bring him here, little one. Into the fountain, both of you, and then we can deal with all the rest.” Hyrule’s sunburnt face turned to her slowly, pine green eyes fluttering with incomprehension. A trembling hand drifted over Link’s weakly shuddering shoulder, moving as if to grip it before hesitating. For all the gentle command of her voice, his tattered magic chafed against a brighter, sour emotion, sharp enough to make it flinch away.

 

He began to turn back to the shrine, because, because fairies couldn’t help with heat sickness, or lack of water, or-

 

“Hero of Hyrule,” she called gently, and his gaze snapped back to her, lips parted and eyebrows pinched in helpless confusion. “Link, I can help. Bring him to me, dear one.” She was all softness now, all cool relief, and he leaned her way, shuffling his legs until lurching upwards, inelegant as a newborn foal. The Champion remained slumped upon, weight falling to land against his leg instead. 

 

“Come on, just this last bit then. Tera can save you, we just need a little more, Link. C’mon, there you go-” He chanted, voice crackling uncharacteristically as the other rolled his head with a moan, submitting to being dragged forward again with only vague murmuring and loose twitches. 

 

Hyrule heaved his dead weight across the last stretch of sand, falling time and time again as his cramped hands lost their grip, forcing a body that felt like someone elses to obey him and stand just one more time and move forward. They tumbled gracelessly at the foot of the fountain, grass crushing under limp-limbed bodies. 

 

“Just a little further,” the fairies urged, nervous sparkles raining ineffectively over angrily flushed skin, soothing away the blistering burns but helpless against the heightened internal temperatures that were the true danger. Tera loomed above, leaning out, and with the last of his strength Hyrule wrapped his arms around the other hylian and dragged them that last few feet. 

 

Hands the size of him snapped out with a speed his dizzy head couldn’t follow, but the palms that cupped around them were achingly gentle as she lifted them both and dipped them into the magic that filled her fountain. 

 

Beside him, Link writhed, weak cries of pain cracking from a dry throat before his strength finally failed and he drooped sadly over Tera’s hand, breath shallow as he restlessly shifted. 

 

For Hyrule though, returning to the Great Fairy’s pool was nothing but a relief, to both his overheated hylian body and to his shredded foreign magic. He laid trustingly in her grip, the idea of changing back into a fairy to properly soak in the power and recover quicker flickering through his mind and magic briefly before Tera soothed it away.

 

His semi-conscious mind let it drift off without a fight, glad to sink into the well of power as it once more soothed the burn of his own magic, as the luke-warm temperature of its physical presence eased the edge from his own heat stricken body. It was only as he came back to himself under the healing effects on his currently delicate magic system that he realized just how far gone he had been himself, caught in the intersection between heat stroke and his over-exhausted, tangled magic sending him right to the brink to true shock. 

 

By the simmering upset he could feel in Tera’s magic -which she was letting him feel, now that his ability to listen had returned- all creaking tree wood and leaves caught rustling in a whirlwind eddy, she was very aware of how she’d saved his life and more than a little unhappy she’d had to. 

 

“Okay,” he began, voice already smoothed back to his usual glossy tones by the fountain, “In my defense, it was necessary-”

 

She interrupted him, eyes calm and blameless now that he was safely sequestered within her reach. “You do not have to defend yourself, little hero.”

 

“I-” He drew up short, not sure what she wanted if not an explanation, and tired nearly to the point of tears.

 

She sighed, putting a little edge of dramatism on it to take the edge off the uneasy atmosphere.  

“I’m grateful to you for your courage and determination, little one. Our darling hero would have died without you; I’m only upset at what it cost you both to get here, and for so foolish a reason as a misbehaving piece of technology. 

 

“Technology? But… that’s not?” He said confusedly, stirring enough to focus on the shrine again, and on the magic that was definitely linking it to the ley line. 

 

“It’s both,” she said distractedly, attention shifting to the other hylian in her care, who had no fairy blood to allow her to heal him as Hyrule had been healed. 

 

Link.  

 

He was still delirious, and barely reacted at all as Hyrule surged off of Tera’s hand to slip into his side, fingers pressing against the too-quick thrum of his pulse. A wash of water over his hair -blessedly cool compared to the heat still radiating from both of their skin, despite Hyrule knowing from earlier that it was truly rather warm- elicited only a low moan, barely reacting. Even as Hyrule cupped water and trickled it into Link’s slack lips, the other only swallowed and fell still again, none of the earlier voracious thirst despite how desperately dehydrated he was. 

 

He continued holding the other hero, humming songs of healing and comfort as he tried to cool him down from the dangerous fever invoked by the desert heat, desperately coaxing agonizingly small trickles of water down his throat, Link all too often shifting his head until it poured out or refusing it in a weak cough, forcing Hyrule to stop for fear of getting it in his lungs. 

 

He himself had to be wary of his own water intake, careful despite how terribly he wanted to guzzle it down, to set his mouth to it and drink in gulp after gulp to finally feel something other than thirst ever again, lashing at his throat and churning in his stomach. 

 

Ah, he’d better slow down after all. He managed to keep what he’d drunk down, forcing himself to wait for his stomach to settle despite how he had a hard time keeping his eyes off the tempting sparkle across the magic-drenched liquid-for him especially and his fairy blood, the waters of the Great Fairy fountain were potent indeed. 

 

The Champion, though, wasn’t getting better, nor was he worsening. His pulsed still raced desperately under flaming skin, eyes sunken, bloodied tear trails washed away as Hyrule continued to cup water through Link’s hair, over his forehead. He didn’t dare try to wash out the sand here, not when there was a high risk of drowning and he himself was too weak to hold Link safely if he struggled. 

 

Another series of flickering muscle spasms gripped the forearm under his worried hand, and he tried to massage it out, even knowing that it was futile so long as the other remained so heat sick.  

 

He brought a hand to Link’s head again, wondering in vain if the temperature had gone down or if it was just wretched hope speaking. 

 

But- “H’l?” Came the weak croak, a fleeting sensation of butterfly wings delicate underhand-sand washing off an artifact-pulling a plant free of the soil in an upspring of hidden roots . 

 

Link was still limp, but Hyrule couldn’t stop the way his arms tightened around the other, heart fluttering. “Yes,” he whispered as the other shifted and rolled his head, trying again to vainly open his eyes under the soaked cloth Hyrule had placed over them. He wasted no time cupping a handful of water to the other’s mouth while he was awake enough to drink, trickling it in as the other finally showed the interest he’d been hoping for, with all the drawbacks that came with it. 

 

Link drank down what he gave him, seemingly unaware that he was merely cupping it from the very waters that the Champion was resting in, submerged over his shoulders. When he finally stopped, worried the other would only weaken himself further if he was sick, Link cried for more, begging him for water that was rippling just within reach if he’d tip his head forward and reach a few inches. 

 

The depth of his disorientation was frightening, but all Hyrule could do was make promises the other couldn’t comprehend, feverishly rolling his head back and forth as he murmured incomprehensibly. “I’ll give you more in a minute, I promise,” he murmured, throat tight as he swallowed down the tears.” He pressed again at the other’s cheek, a weak sob escaping. 

 

 “He’s still too hot, Tera,” he said, all agitation and panic as he turned to her with begging, desperate eyes. “ Are you sure you can’t help him?” He asked, though he already knew the answer in the sad, liquid eddies of her magic. 

 

She dipped her head, eyes closing in remorse. “We great fairies cannot heal the races of Hyrule, not anymore. Our magic split from theirs thousands of years ago, growing along different lines of power. and we cannot bridge that gap. Young fairies, like yourself, have magic that’s still pliable, still open to adapting. It’s why you can heal them; your magic can bend to bridge the gap, shape to something their bodies accept. With aged power comes firm roots and deep trenches, dear one. As much as I want to, my magic would only be rejected by his body, and I cannot mold it to be otherwise. I’m so sorry, little one. You must know I would if it were possible.” She explained mournfully. 

 

It was nothing he hadn’t already felt, deep as her connection was to this world’s ley line, the raw natural veins of power that were a far cry from anything any sentient races could hope to harness. 

 

His breath hitched, shaking as he tried to breathe evenly. “I don’t know what to do . I can’t heal sickness, or heat exhaustion.” He said, face crumpling with tears. “I can’t do anything, I haven’t been able to do anything to help him-!”

 

Tera cupped her hands around them, ensconcing them in calming magic that forced Hyrule’s heart to slow, wielding the full range of her influence over exhausted fairies upon his overwrought system. “Even if you could,” she began in a rolling hills voice, “you would need more time in the fountain to be able to help, my dear sprite. He’s sick, yes, but stable.” Hyrule blinked limpid eyes at her, nervously flitting his hands over Link in blatant doubt. 

 

But she brought a careful finger to tip his jaw up, drawing his gaze back to her. “You’re exhausted too, dear one; that last transformation pushed you nearly to your limits, and the trek here almost finished the job.” She crooked the finger and ran it along his scalp and down his spine, tingling pleasantly where his wings would rest as a fairy. 

 

Her magic coated him, and she gave a satisfied hum. “A little while longer and you should be ready for a boost. Then I would return to Kakariko; they’ll have better supplies to help him, with others to assist. You shouldn’t be doing this alone, dear one.” She lifted them higher in the water, Hyrule fumbling to hold up Link’s dead weight without the buoyancy, sending her a betrayed look as his current weakness was fully exposed. 

 

His ears drooped, a healthy blush rising beneath his freckles as he held his ground regardless. “How will we get there, though?” he asked suspiciously, for he could tell by the lack of worry that she didn’t intend to send them back out into the desert. 

 

“Link’s slate arrived at the shrine without him, and it’s still here. It’s how he travels between them, and it’s how you will both go to get help. He has awoken already, with any luck he shall do so again.” 

 

“Where- ah, nevermind,” he said, gently resting Link into Tera’s hand as he pulled himself up to peer out in the sand, eyesight useless but able to sense the foreign, strange magic of the sheikah technology in both the shrine and a smaller unit as well, cast all the way over by a rib. He pulled himself from the water, climbing out only to roll awkwardly down the rubbery mushroom stairs as his leg went noodly and slipped out from under him. 

 

Clutching at the throbbing ache in his head and ignoring the despairing keen-eyed stare he could feel at his back, he trudged to fetch the slate. Weak kneed and wobbly, he knelt to grab it, peering curiously at the strange item. Prodding it with his magic elicited nothing but a strange sense of :negative: and nothing more, the magic of the slate utterly refusing to budge at all for him. 

 

Keyed to this world’s Link then, his magic rather than his spirit. Hyrule made his way back, light-headed and weak but thoroughly successfully as he eased back in, suddenly freezing and fumbling, asking “Wait, is it water-pro-OH!” as it nearly dipped under, only to lose his footing on the slick sloping edges of the bottomless fountain and go under himself, slate and all. 

 

Tera was laughing a full body chortle as he surfaced, already pouting at the still-magic stubbornness of the slate in his hands, perfectly fine and absolutely resolute in its refusal to obey him. Seems they really would need Link for this, then. 

 

A good thing Tera’s humor at Hyrule’s expense had him stirring, then, tongue darting out to lick his dry lips as he slowly came back. Helping him along, the Traveler chaffed his hands gently down Link’s arms, encouraging him with purposefully lilting tones, easy and carefree. “Link? Hey, can you wake up for me?” 

 

The Champion wrinkled his nose, one limp-wristed hand coming up to touch the band Hyrule had tied over his eyes with a twitching frown, only to fall back into the water. He made a soft noise of acknowledgment though, calm and sedate even if most of that was the fogginess Hyrule could feel bogging him down. 

 

He lifted Link’s hand and rested it upon the slate, glancing at Tera for confirmation only to have her shake her head, nail tapping at her lips as she watched them. 

 

He looked back at the screen, still blank. “Um?” He said with a growing note of panic, trailing Link’s fingers across it as if that would work instead. 

 

It did. 

 

He felt something spark between the unit and Link, and it blinked and lit up, still blank though. Expectant, almost, where it remained enmeshed with the fringe of Link’s magic. 

 

Hyrule felt the first trickles of doubt, because Link? His energy was all muddled and indistinct, vague currents under a painfully still surface. And yet, there- he didn’t see what happened, but he could feel that something did, a specific turning of a diamond to catch the light just so to cast the perfect spray of sparkles. 

 

Link shifted, hand shaking as he suddenly tried to move it across the screen, nearly knocking it from Hyrule’s hands with the discoordinated spasm, all clumsy fingers and jerking movements as he tried and failed to do something.  The Traveler tightened his grip on the slate and Link’s hand alike, leaning over his shoulder to squint at the pictograms there, trying in vain to read them, but well-

 

He’d never been all that literate, and for all that they could read each other’s hylian, it was very different between their worlds, from grammar to spelling to the way the individual letters looked. It took a very loosely mastered skill and made him even worse at it; and Link’s hylian writing? His was particularly bad. The Champion tried to move again, tossing his head weakly when Hyrule kept his hand from falling off the slate, worried it would break the connection and that they’d have to start over. 

 

“No,” he slurred clumsily, speaking indistinctly until Hyrule caught ‘map’. 

 

Good, they’re on the same page, at least. ”Don’t worry, I’m just trying to help. Here, I can bring up the map-” Ah, there it was, and holy goddess above, Link’s Hyrule was huge. Tabling that for later, he kept his eyes on it as he called out, “Tera, do you know where Kakariko is?” She didn’t even bother to speak, instead simply pointing with one pristine nail to a village set in the mountains, two glowing runes nearby. 

 

“There? Talon… Hag? Does that sound right?” 

 

Link slurred something quietly, drowned out by Tera’s answering,“No, not that one. There’s another close by, one that hasn’t been broken. That’s the one you want.” She took a moment to stroke the edge of her hand along Link’s face, the ill hylian leaning wearily into the touch. Despite being dripping in magic, Hyrule could feel how it rolled off the Champion like water over oiled leather, an absolute inability to interact. 

 

Compared to his magic, tinged with the distinct natural energy of fairies, which soaked in the natural energy like damp earth drinks in rain. 

 

“Rakna Rokl, then.” Hyrule said haltingly, squinting uncertainly at the tiny icon.  

 

Tera hummed an assent. “The Sheikah there should be able to help. I will warn you though, that in his state he may very well be worse off after traveling- he’s in no shape to be using magic, but that’s the cost of travel.” 

 

Hyrule swallowed, hesitating a moment. “He won’t… it won’t kill him though, right?” he asked in a low voice, seeking for reassurance that this was the right path, Link’s best chance.

 

“With the Sheikah technology acting so oddly… normally I could say he would be fine, for it guards its master vigilantly against the drawbacks of its use. Now, for it to place him here in such a state, and at the wrong shrine?” She paused, considering, idly fondling the shrine’s magic with her own, ignoring the biting thorny sparks with ease. 

 

“He is alive though, and after being thrown through the line with such carelessness most would have been incinerated. That more than anything is proof the safeguards are still in place. If you go with, it should take whatever magic Link cannot safely provide from you instead, as a passenger.”

 

“What if I don’t have enough?” He asked, turning his attention to where his magic laid like a welling fountain within him, energy gradually bubbling to fill it as he basked in Tera’s glow. “Would it kill me then? Since I’m not its user?”

 

“It wouldn’t take you at all, then. If there wasn’t enough magic to fuel the jump Link would die anyway as it failed partway through; in that sense, you’re protected as well. It’s a useful tool, when it’s not being thrown into complete havoc by mysterious forces,” she said, liquid metal eyes sliding over to the shrine, its glow reflecting in her eyes, bright blues and oranges sharp against the gentle, warm hues of her own fountain. 

 

She cupped a hand gently around Hyrule, the deep thrum of the earth’s power echoing as a pulse through her magic, a great heartbeat that he leaned gladly into. “Are you ready, little one? I can give you more magic to ensure the shrine takes you, but fair warning- you will be sick after using your magic with so little regard to its balance.”

 

“I can handle it, Tera. Link needs help, and I’ll survive it.” His chin jutted out stubbornly, he gave a fierce little tug at her magic, as futile as a puppy playing tug of war with a daira. She laughed, but good-naturedly played along, feeding a thin, ripe stream of magic into him, the energy uncomfortably warm as it flowed into his burned out system, simultaneously a comfort to top off his stores and a painful agitation of already injured magic. 

 

“Is all well?” She checked as she pulled away, gently pressing at his magic, all pillowy and pliant and less responsive than the norm, flooded with strange power as it was, and not enough time yet to cycle through and settle in his system.

 

“All good! I don’t… you didn’t owe me anything, but you were free with your kindness and magic nonetheless.” He said, giving her a heartfelt smile, gracious beyond measure. 

 

“You know it was nothing to me, and it is never a matter of owing when it comes to my children, even if they do hail from another world,” she said with no little fondness, magic twisting about him wistfully. 

 

“It was nice to meet you, Tera,” he fluted sweetly. “Thank you for everything, and I hope to see you again someday,” he said, honest but doubtful.  

 

“It was my pleasure, dear one,” she reiterated with similar bittersweet orchid purple coloring her tones. “Be sure to visit Cotera when you get back; she’ll help you replenish the rest of your magic, and she’ll be thrilled to meet a nephew.” She gently tapped his nose teasingly. 

 

“Make sure you tell her Tera sent you though, before she gets thoughts about having first claim on you. Best of luck, and go safely.” She sent them one last indulgent smile as Hyrule subconsciously checked Link again, confirming he was no better but more importantly no worse, and as ready to leave as he would be. Carefully, he shook the other to wakefulness and tapped their fingers over the shrine, holding his breath as the slate’s magic reached out a questing tendril. 

 

It brushed carelessly over him, curling around Link patiently as his magic once more shifted, countless layers of weaving strands aligning just so to reveal a glimpse of some previously hidden truth. 

 

It flitted a merry loop with an affirming beep from the slate, and there was a sudden pull as the magic sparked around them, bending and flexing around them both. He felt its attention leave Link -a certain unhappy ring signaling the shift- and instead draw from his own well, voraciously and with little care for his burnt out magic. 

 

It hungrily took and took and took, leeching away most of what Tera had just given until finally it was plump and glowing as it swallowed them up altogether, the world simply… going away. 

 

Nothing, and then all of a sudden, everything once more. 

 

Wildlife burst up around him to his senses, such abundance and suddenness agony to his freshly razed system. He choked on a scream, convulsing weakly as his magic threatened to crumble completely at this final drain, nearly out of his mind with pain as the bonds sparked to life within his mind, Link’s still forebodingly dark, his magic-

 

Link’s magic flickered unsteadily, and Hyrule screamed mindlessly, panicked and desperate and dazed as he struggled weakly to get to the other, held down by gentle, familiar hands and roiling, concerned magic. Sobbing, he begged them to help, unaware of their reassurance, of the care already being issued the Champion. 

 

He continued the broken cries even as he was scooped up, tears coursing down his face well after he passed out, utterly depleted.

 

It wouldn’t be the last of the delirious pleas that would come to haunt the others in the days to come. 

Notes:

Four going through the portal: Screaming into the void as his brain leaks out his ears
Hyrule going through the portal: Vibing and chilling to elevator music

They’re having fundamentally different experiences, lol

Me: okay now Hyrule’s gonna have a rougher go of it for the portal… so…
Hyrule: *utterly blitzed by the shrine x portal smackdown*
Me: oh whoops my hand slipped

Hyrule, on the brink of total shock the whole chapter: Nobody’s gonna know
Tera, gazing upon the ragged Traveler: They’re gonna kno-
Hyrule, internally swearing not to tell any of the Chain: How would they know???

There is SO much more throwing up in this story than I ever planned for, oh my god. One of the downsides of making nausea/vomiting the prevailing symptom for the messed up Shrine travel AND elixir overdose, both of which are found aplenty here. Not to mention the concussions as well, and the heat stroke, hmm…

Ah, well. Too late NOW

So far as Hyrule’s magic goes: he is hylian, but much of his magical abilities stem from or are enhanced by his fairy bloodline. Fairy magic is very strongly connected to the earth and the ley lines running through it (which are what decided the location of the shrines and Sheikah towers, actually, given that they tap ley lines for magical energy). Most significantly, this is the main way he regains magic- it’s faster than Time or Legend when they use theirs up, but only in his own or…

Well, or when he has someone from the native Hyrule with a soulbond to him that lets him sneak a connection in through their magical resonancy. With the less magically inclined Links he’s gonna refuel slower, just because the connection is thinner and less conducive to leech off of, for lack of a better word. On the other hand, Time and Legend, who are more magically competent, have more significant bonds with their worlds- think of them like rivers versus streams, both carrying water from one place to another but capable of very different volumes. He can’t draw huge amounts of magic through Wars because there’s just not enough inlet for it.

When Hyrule came through the portal he essentially got laser beamed by a bunch of strange magic, frying his system and flooding it with foreign magic all in one go. It’s actually just the same thing that always happens when he goes through the portal, but about 1000x worse because of the shrines’ getting all up in the way. He would have acclimated on his own anyways -for all that he was sick and a little shocky he wasn’t in any true danger of dying- but the fairies didn’t like seeing him in that much pain and Tera was /right there/, so they all bullied him into visiting the fountain. She served as his anchor point, their shared fairy lineage enough of a connection for him to go off of because of the pure powerhouses of natural magic that Wild’s Great Fairies are.

And also, yes, she could boost him all the way up to full health given enough time but- well, there was a video that beautifully illustrated the difference between water absorption of soil depending on dryness. I like to think that Hyrule’s magic is the same way- when he’s low or reeling from the shrine travel, he can still take in magic when offered from a viable source (ie Tera/any Great Fairy or from the earth when that Hyrule’s Link is close by) but much more slowly, a kind of self-defense mechanism to prevent shocking his system by sending it from dry lake bottom to flooded to the brim too fast- as the green potions did, of which he really shouldn’t take more than 2 for the exact reason that we saw here. Hurtling from one extreme to the other so fast, and so many times is dangerous, I’d like to think.

Okay, now the rest of the endnotes for this chapter are in the comments- it's capped at 5,000 and this chapter had a heck ton~

Thanks for reading! Cheers~

Chapter 5: Rub Some Dirt In It and Get Back Out There

Summary:

Everyone’s doing their best to make things better, to varying degrees of success.

Notes:

Note: This one actually kicks back a little ways in the timeline to the beginning of chapter 4 ish instead of picking up where Chapter 3 dropped off. We had a little for Four to cover before Wild arrived, after all.

The POVs are going to be jumping around a little bit: ============= as a line break denotes a POV shift. It’s purposely a little chaotic and overlapping to keep the feel of a more jumbled, anxious vibe for this chapter. There will also be a little hopping between Link and Wild as we enter a weird liminal space between the use of both by multiple different characters.

Chapter Warnings: Eye Trauma, Illness, Vomiting, Altered State of Mind

Chapter Starts: Appx 1 PM
Time spent in Wild’s Hyrule: 22 Hours
Chapter spans: 9.5 hours
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 5

Four had not had a moment of peace since he woke up; there was a vicious war being fought inside his skull, and it was hard to say whether the victory was going to the headache gnawing at his skull, the strain and struggle of his Colors as they continued to deteriorate, or the dismal news that their group was all split up in a new world, and that the newest Link in their Chain was gone, and had been so for nearly 12 hours. 

 

Four burrowed deeper in the blankets with deliberately measured breaths, clamping his hands into his sides where no one could see the pressure he was exerting. Peeking an eye open, he surveyed Sky, settled on the chair beside him, anxiously fiddling with something in his hands; he hadn’t left Four alone yet, since he’d woken.  

 

That was because of the cherry on the cake: the fever that had set in before he even woke- not serious, more likely a result of the combined hypothermia and stress of his fracturing mental state than anything else, but, well, having a reason didn’t exactly work to calm Sky down from the rabid coddling he was intent on doling out. 

 

It was a problem , one of many Four was currently saddled with.  

 

Already he can feel the strain of four minds trying to pull apart within him, well overdue for a Split to recenter and establish their mental boundaries, regardless of the fact that he managed to sneak away just over a week ago and should have been fine for at least twice this long at least .

 

The portals always tended to mess that up, though, and this one in particular had been so rough he shouldn’t be surprised. It was resulting -as it always did- in an embarrassingly low tolerance for bullshit and stupidity, lower than the usual and parried with true sharpness rather than dry wit. 

 

A shame, then, that the first thing he was caught up on was tales of stupidity and ridiculous haphazard foolery on the part of the currently missing Link. 

 

All the years of practice wrangling the Colors under control while holding a calm facade were still nearly ineffective in holding back the devastating racket and chaos the portal had left him in; it was like bracing a glass door against an incoming wall of water. The only consolation was that this had happened before when he’d waited too long to split, and none of the Chain had been offended at his shorter temper, only concerned. If his eyes narrowed and lips tightened in pure antagonism, then at least for all their playfully nervous shying away and leaning back Sky and Wind likely knew it was Four’s fault, not any true wrongdoing on their part.

 

Still, there was no hiding that he was running on a fuse clipped well short of its usual generous length, a background sense of agitation threatening to make every minor slight set him off. Unfortunately, being perfectly self aware of how irrational this short-temperedness was proved absolutely useless in the face of the baseless, mounting agitation he could not quell, all of Blue’s irritation and Vio’s prickliness spiking out at the smallest provocation, flames fanned by Red’s increasing worry for the others and Green’s mounting anxiety over their… situation. 

 

Four closed his eyes as Sky tucked the blankets around him again, breathing evenly as he fought the temper that was pouring out from the Color’s mounting frustration. The others certainly don’t deserve it when they’re just trying to help, even if their efforts are coming across as more than a little demeaning. 

 

Stop it, that’s the chaos speaking. They were worried, still are, and you aren’t well, for all that you’re trying to pretend to be, he scolded himself, the thoughts glinting distinctive crimson.

 

He pinched his nose against the throbbing headache, waving Sky away with a sharp huff as the other tried to wipe the fever sweat from his forehead. Heavens above, he had a fever, is all; they’d all traveled and fought through far worse. Wind offered water, trying to steady the cup when Four’s hands trembled, his fingers twitching as Red surged forward gladly at the taste of his favorite honeyed tea. A single cutting side-long glare had the Sailor pulling his hands free as if an alligator had snapped at them, leaving him to carefully sip the shaking cup, ears pinned back in embarrassment and ire. 

 

Four sighed internally, and the Colors wilted in common guilt at what their disordered condition had wrought- not that it was their fault, either. Sometimes … sometimes he needed to Split more often, and sometimes all it took was one trigger - like one particularly vicious portal jump and further tangled confusion of hypothermic delirium- to tangle them all together so badly they couldn’t work out the knots inside Four’s mind, only the clean separation of a split enough to isolate each Color within themselves once more. 

 

He could already tell that this wasn’t one of those times where he’d get off so easily. 

 

Wind doesn’t deserve this degree of irritation though, and Four can see that he’s all the more concerned for Four’s short temper. He’d brush the wide-eyed worry off as just the Sailor’s misguided concern except that Sky had leaned forward with the exact same poorly-disguised worried look the instant Four bristled at his hovering, all of Green’s instincts to hide your injuries put on a strong front being very much triggered by the incessant examinations and repetitive are you okay?’s.

 

Speaking of , he thought as Sky checked yet again, as if Four was going to suddenly change his answer and admit that he was slowly losing his mind as his four sub-identities got increasingly caught in the mire of their own tangled psyches. 

 

“I’m fine,” he bit out again , determinedly holding back the scathing poison-purple comments that wanted to escape, recognizing Red’s volatile emotions as the fuel for this multi-colored firestorm of growing anxiety and defensiveness.

 

“You’re sure?” 

 

He was fully aware of exactly how wild-eyed he was when he shot a warning look at Wind, holding onto the shreds of his temper with white-knuckled tenacity. They weren’t doing anything wrong- they’d actually been nothing but comforting and caring since he came completely back to himself, and he’d certainly latched onto Wind during the night with no small degree of gratitude, physical contact a small balm when he was feeling like this. 

  

Even now, irate as he was, he was still pressed tight to Sky’s side, the Skyloftian clearly more than a little nervous as he curled an arm over Four’s shoulders with all the caution due a hissing porcupine. He yearned for the contact even as he remained hypersensitive to any perceived wrong word or tough. It was an absolute overreaction to put it mildly, and all of that only made him angrier at himself and this toxicity and at the Colors and their frustration grew in response and-

 

Doing it again , Red murmured miserably, wincing away from Vio’s hissed, salty Shut up . 

 

Four fought down the urge to rattle his head until they all shook back into their respective spaces in his mind. 

 

It was a nasty cycle he was caught in, and one that would only continue to spiral downwards until he Split- they were still holding it together as of yet, albeit with some outwards signs already, but it would only continue to get worse the longer they stayed together and the further the Colors got tangled and blurred together. 

 

It would be fine normally, even if he wasn’t at home where he could split freely; it was easy enough to duck off and wander far enough away to release the proverbial pressure and return to his baseline. Even with seven other heroes -or maybe especially with seven other heroes- they each valued their occasional solitude, and were glad to respect it when sought by the others as long as the setting allowed for it, safety wise.

 

At the moment though, Sky was Not Having It, and Four knew exactly who was to blame; this fresh new hero, who had captured their residential Skyloftian’s heart instantly, if the exasperated affection as he spoke of him and his ridiculous fondness of the entire Chain was any indication. The Chain was scattered about a new Hyrule, fates uncertain, and the newest Link had made the mortal mistake of worrying Sky and then scarpering off before the Chosen Hero could properly act upon his over-protective tendencies. 

 

That meant in the meantime, until the Chosen Hero could resolve his concerns towards Link, all of those foiled instincts were lovingly gooped all over him instead, as the next most ill companion within caring distance. Problems arose in the fact that Four was in no mood to be his normal patient,  enduring self when his mind was busy fracturing into four screaming parts, and that his deteriorating mental state and already compromised physical state meant that Sky was in no frame of mind to let Four waddle on off into the woods all by his lonesome, with Wind firmly on Sky’s side in the matter even if he was too much a coward to say it to the pissy Smithy’s face. 

 

Smart, that Sailor. 

 

Four was trapped here, then, under the watchful, worried eyes of the others as he grew steadily more agitated as the hours passed, increasingly desperate for touch and leaning ever more heavily into the stabilizing mental bonds between his brothers, wondering what he felt like to their minds as he felt himself slide further into chaos. 

 

Sky fretted over his fever, which hadn’t abated the way the Sheikah had assured the Skylotian it likely would by now. Four shifted uncomfortably, avoiding those summery blue eyes as he acknowledged that his little unresolved mental issue likely wasn’t helping on that front. If he could just manage to sneak away though, that would be enough, hopefully, though then he’d have to worry about them coming to search for him and drag him back into bed.

 

Where’s your clever scheming now, huh? Blue challenged Vio, receiving the mental equivalent of a sneer in return as their edges bled into one another before Vio pulled back with a snap not unlike a rubber band sound. 

 

Maybe if we just ask? Red said quietly, ever sensitive to the others’ emotions and clearly strung out from the continued onslaught around him, each flare of passion from the other’s peppering in tiny eye-searing crimson sparks against the murky garnet of his presence. 

 

Green cut in, all nervous shivering energy and the feeling of wringing hands, accidentally sinking halfway into Red’s overwhelmed misery and unconsciously adding an anxious edge to it. And say what when Sky inevitably wants to know why we need to head out alone? He’s going to need an answer, and I don’t know about you all but if we were going to tell him we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place- 

 

Just tell him he doesn’t need to know, and that it will help us feel better- that’s sure to work on him, worried as he is, Vio replied impatiently, giving the responsive twisting red/green braid of alarm sharp lilac slaps until they calmed down to panic in silence. 

 

Wow, minimal fucking effort. That’s your grand solution, Vio? Navy disgust dripped from the thoughts, snapping like a wet towel at Vio’s steadily flaring presence, an infuriating attempt to get the other’s temper to break.

 

Blue, don’t - Red tried, aware of the building tempers, only to cringe back as that midnight wrath turned his way, muffling around his presence like a stifling blanket. Aggressive scarlet spears stabbed out as Red finally lost his patience, the pair bouncing around like an urchin swaddled in cotton candy.

 

Slow hyacinth irritation, fur ruffled the wrong way. Why waste energy coming up with a convoluted scheme when the simplest one would work? We all have secrets, and everyone has been respecting that so far. 

 

Anger whirled between them all, short tempers abounding- none of them were happy, but there was little cause for it aside from the discomfiture of their current situation and the infuriatingly simple solution that was just out of reach, Sky’s well-meaning attempt to help them recover ruthlessly foiling their best chance at remedying their condition. 

 

Gods, ten minutes alone and this could be resolved. 

 

Hours passed, and preparations were made. Four continued to sleep where he could, glad of what reprieve could be found in the heavy, dreamless sleep of the over-exhausted. Truly unfortunate then, that his sleep was not heavy, nor dreamless, for all that he was distinctly tired on both a physical and mental level. His fever was still unwavering, to everyone’s dismay, not high enough for concern but high enough to leave his sleep shallow and easily interrupted, Four himself flushed and uncomfortable and never, ever alone. 

 

The tension grew as Link remained absent long past what they expected, and Sky doubled down on keeping an eye on Four despite the fact that aside from the fever and lingering exhaustion he was far out of the woods after his ordeal. 

 

As one, the Colors politely agreed not to mention Vio’s now-moot plan, thoroughly crushed to dust as it became increasingly clear that something had gone wrong with Link, and they had no way of doing anything but waiting to see if he makes it back.

 

Instead they were left to wonder and worry with the rest, caught between their own discomfort and the honest concern for the rest of the Chain, especially their newest member. Four’s memories of him were fleeting and jumbled, but he recalled the way the bond between their souls had lit up and settled into place like it had always been there, the gladness and joy that had surpassed his relief at being rescued. Even now he was aware of the bond, though the distance between him and Link was too far to pick anything up from it. 

 

It was there, and Link was alive, yet. And as he pressed against it, drawing comfort from its continuing presence, Four acknowledged that he was maybe already a little attached himself to their newest member. 

 

What can he say? Link had made quite the first impression, and his mind had felt wonderful, even to a half insensate hylian nearly beyond words when they met. 

 

So when the shrine finally sparked to life again far too many hours later and Four was finally left alone as Wind and the others scrambled to assist the two unconscious arrivals, he didn’t slip away despite finally having a chance to. He considered it, of course; considered trekking off unseen, considered the relief of finally relieving that building pressure within his mind,  considered… abandoning the others just when they may need him most…? No, he allowed the thought for only a moment before ducking out right on their heels, determined to at least gauge what assistance they may require before making a get-away. 

 

A Sheikah hurried into the main entry with an unconscious Link in his arms, wasting no time laying him down on the mattress that had been set out in the sitting area to allow for more room for the caretakers and, most importantly, for the tub being prepped with water. Four got a look at the sunken features and pink-tinged makeshift blindfold for only a moment before the Champion was properly swarmed, someone shouting out that they had been right, it had been the desert like they’d feared. 

 

Within a minute Sky darted in through the doors as well, holding a semi-conscious Hyrule. Four was quick to meet them as their entrance garnered nearly no attention from the Sheikah, eyes darting over the Traveler’s pale, pain-creased features. He reached a hand up to test his temperature, indignant rage fading into surprise as he found it cool and clammy, shocky rather than the later stages of heat exhaustion like Link. An exploratory brush proved Hyrule had magic enough, so the issue wasn’t him having used too much to try to heal the other hero… except, there -

 

Four almost didn’t notice past the chaotic impudence of his own magic as he tried to wrangle it into four-directional obeisance -Vio’s distant analysis warring with Blue’s cool encompassing wash of magic, Green’s surficial spot-checking of important facets butting heads with Red’s intuitive recognition and understanding- but Hyrule’s magic was very much in an unusually chaotic state as well, considering that for all the peppy energy he usually carried it was always underlaid by the same slow steadiness that all natural magic has. 

 

What he was feeling now  was full of unusual eddies, jittering in a scattered pattern that was nothing like the usual smooth glide; normally random but harmonious, ever continuous and flowing, like a ribbon dancing through the air.

 

But he was stable from what Four could feel, with no urgent need to divert attention from Link’s care. Sky seemed to agree, murmuring “I think he’ll be fine, as long as someone keeps an eye on him,” he said leadingly, and the Smithy froze instantly. 

 

Sky hesitated for a breath. “Four-” he began in a soothing rumble of a voice, and the Smithy lunged to duck away only to be bear hugged by a ready Wind and carried up to their room again, the Sailor’s power bracelets far outweighing what meager struggles he was able to put out without his own equipped. 

 

Rookie mistake Blue hissed, and Red cried an indignant agreement. 

 

There goes our best chance , Green noted miserably, Vio dramatically falling to a soft lilac puddle in dismay. 

 

Four was plopped down in the chair while Sky settled Hyrule in the as of yet untouched second bed in the room, Wind drawing away with narrowed eyes. Four glared back with justified pissiness until the Skyloftian whirled around and pinned the Smithy with a warning glare, snapping him from the staring contest with Wind that had been more filing a complaint than actually full on rebellion, anyway. 

 

Sky slipped into his seldom used tone of command, the rich low notes matching well with the King that their Skyloftian would one day become, even if his phrasing remained as gentle as ever. “Stay,” he intoned seriously. “At least for now, alright? Someone needs to keep an eye on him, and with your fever I don’t want you exerting yourself trying to help Link out, not when there’s plenty others to do it instead. Wind-” he hesitated, clearly debating whether the Sailor should accompany him or remain away from the emergency downstairs. 

 

The young hero made up his mind for him though, staunchly putting his foot down. “I’m coming with you- I might not know deserts, but there’s been enough poor souls who got stranded at sea that I’ve seen with sun-sickness and dehydration. I could- maybe help.” His voice wobbled at the end, tripping over a promise he wanted to make. 

 

Four’s eyes darted over the Sailor, taking in the tense posture and fisted hands, dark eyes desperate to help in whatever way he could. 

 

He needs this , Red acknowledged, batting away Blue’s hissing and Green’s fidgeting restlessness. Let him go for now. 

 

If this goes poorly, he’ll blame himself , Vio says darkly, blooming out in offended plum surprise as Red whirls to nip at him. 

 

He’d blame himself if he didn’t do anything either, Red says with uncharacteristic sharpness. At least let him try!

 

The colors whirled, tussling for dominance, before finally Green silenced them with a pine needle burst. Enough! Red’s right- let the Sailor do what he can. Whether we could handle it or not - he said pointedly, quelling Blue’s flare of defensiveness- this at least, would be better for him than us. So just- he flared out a sigh, scraping together some vestige of calm. 

 

Just deal with it, alright? He finished, and if his tone was a hair too sharp, the leaf green of his feigned coolness edged with acidic neon, none of the other Colors rose to the fight. 

 

Four settled back with a sharp exhale through his nose, arms crossed but giving Sky a small acknowledging jerk of his head before pointedly turning his glare to Hyrule’s form, ignoring the Skyloftian as he dropped a hand to his shoulder and murmured a thank you. 

 

It didn’t matter- the other would have felt his shoulders droop, seen his eyes soften as he watched the exhausted, whimpering Traveler, felt the apology ring sharp and bitter through the soulbond even as the frustration remained. 

 

Sky permeated warmth through the connection, all clouds glowing bright with sunlight-ozone sharp across the tongue-the moment where a leap turns to flight.  

 

“See if you can learn anything about where they were or what happened,” Sky asked gently, before leaving him in peace, alone with his worries and thoughts and squabbling mind- fantastic .

 

 Hyrule wasn’t restful in the least, wavering between light unconsciousness that Four hesitated to call sleep and fitful, anxious wakefulness, asking insistently after Link and trying to get up to help him. The Smithy was at one point sitting on the Traveler’s chest until the other gave up and accepted his fate, sending a bitterly victorious thought at Sky that this truly may not have been the better task for his own weakened, diminutive self after all, despite their best intentions. 

 

And yet, for as worrisome and painful as it was to see Hyrule struggle in spite of his own sickness to help another, it was the times between when he laid in semi-peaceful repose that Four struggled the most. With nothing to do the Colors fell to arguing, nothing to center them or keep them from falling farther apart. 

 

It would be so, so easy to slip away now, to Split. No one was watching, and Hyrule was down for the count… 

 

For now. He wouldn’t risk it, knew so despite the thought rising again and again, for all the sweet temptation of reprieve from the growing headache and stress and agitation he would never risk anything happening while he was gone. He wouldn’t be able to live with that, and if he couldn’t live with the consequences, he refused to chance them becoming a reality. 

 

Four could manage with his colors dissolving- he’d done it before for far longer. But he would not be the cause of any further chaos in the delicate situation downstairs, or any complications or accidents with Hyrule in his absence. 

 

So he waited, and the waiting was agony, yes, was spiders crawling over his skin and teeth-gritting patience, but it was the kind of strain he’d chosen willingly, was choosing with every excruciating minute that passed. 

 

It was better this way.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When Hyrule finally woke up and refused to go back to sleep, Four was finally given the reprieve from his own thoughts that he’d been hoping for, giving him a quick rundown of the time he’d spent in the desert with Link. Not a true debrief, but enough to give Four an idea.  

 

“The Great Fairy said he was prepared for desert travel,” Hyrule said anxiously, eyes large and sad. “If he hadn’t been separated from his slate, he would have been fine, or could have just left right away with me. It was terrible luck that the shrines separated him from it.”  

 

“A slate?” Four said, cocking his head. Vio and Green offered up vague memories of a glowing handheld slab of stone. 

 

“It’s… his inventory, and teleportation system, linked up with a network that he can jump to, apparently. That’s how he’s been moving around,” Hyrule explained, eyes cast upward as he tried to recall what the Great Fairy had told him of the odd piece of technology. 

 

“The Sheikah guessed that he may have headed to the desert, solely because of the circlet he was wearing when he left, an item for increased heat tolerance,” Four said slowly, trying to get the pieces to slot into place; they were all there, but fluttering around and refusing to line up. He closed his eyes, trying to bring into focus the hazy, dream-like memories of the elixirs fed to him when he had been so cold, how they had warmed him. That hadn’t been cold tolerance, but an actively heating magical property, and if they had that- 

 

What are the chances they also have a cooling one?

 

=================================================================

 

The first few minutes after Hyrule and Link’s arrival moved oddly in Sky’s perception, freezing at the Traveler’s desperate scream, the Champion’s boneless drop to crumple on the pedestal happening in slow motion before him. 

 

He blinked, and Hyrule was in his arms, insensate and hysterical as he begged them to help Wild, utterly disregarding his own sorry state. The Traveler’s skin was clammy against Sky’s hands and terribly pale, and a potion was gently nudged into his hands to help feed to the panicked younger hero, who balked, confused and distracted. After further coaxing and assurances that “Link will be fine, we’re getting him help” the Traveler consented and drank the red fluid down, markedly improving his complexion and focus.

 

This was good for Hyrule’s health and bad for the degree of worry he was capable of showing towards his companion, murmuring repetitive, scrambled statements of overheating and dehydration, walking alone in the desert, of being unable to do anything to help. 

 

His mind beat like a baby bird’s heart through the soulbond, the curl of ribbon-laughing bells-nights spent under star laden skies feeling slower and more scattered than usual, which only made sense considering the sorry state of the Traveler. 

 

Sky tucked the damp curled head under his chin and looked over to find much grimmer faces around Wild, Cado wiping the blue potion away as it trickled uselessly from the unconscious hero’s slack mouth. He overheard someone calling “This isn’t working, we need to get him back to Kakariko, now, ” before Cado scooped Wild up, the Champion frighteningly limp. With a fluting keen, Hyrule reached out, pressing desperately against the bond in their mind for comfort, reassurance, before fading away as his burst of energy left him, eyelashes fluttering fitfully as he kept watering green eyes fixed on the Sheikah carrying Wild.  

 

Another blink, and he was striding at a near run through the village, ducking into the inn to the clamor of shouted instructions. Hyrule stirred once more as Wild broke into dry, choking coughs, calling out indistinctly as he flailed in Sky’s arms, despairing at being separated from the person he’d just gone through hell with. 

 

“Shhh, ‘Rule, it’s alright. We’ve got him, he’s being taken care of,” he soothed as the Smithy slid up beside them, looking over the freshly swooned Traveler but not seeming overly worried at what he found- a small weight off Sky’s shoulders, to have his own examination results confirmed. Then he saw those clever gray eyes slide over speculatively to Wild’s group of caretakers, concerned and considering, clearly weighing the chances of him managing to escape bedrest in all the chaos.

 

Too bad for the Smithy, though- for all the distractions at hand, Sky has more than enough concern and focus to spread across three members of their Chain, especially when he can hit two birds with one stone. He pointedly met Wind’s eyes where the other hovered behind Four, and the Sailor nodded in understanding. The young hylian  readily pounced on the smaller hero when he tried to escape the instant Sky assigned him to watch over the Traveler, bundling him into a hug and toting him upstairs so he could continue to rest with maybe a little too much glee. 

 

For all his hissing and indignancy, the Smithy did clearly need it; his usual grace was gone, lost to slumped shoulders and curved posture, head perpetually tilted to the side as if he was warding off a nap. His iron-toned eyes were glassy, and at moments lost their focus, clean cut eyebrows tilting in confusion before he would blink back to himself once more. The red blazing across his cheeks was also nearly jarring, a violent blush on the normally unruffled, collected Smithy- though, at the moment, he was proving far more volatile than usual as well.

 

His tone was as scathing as Sky had expected it to be at the news that he was once more to be sequestered in their room; he was clearly in one of his moods, snappish and prickly with an air of quiet desperation and churning regret that always gave Sky the extra ounce of tolerance when this happened. They were all aware that their littlest companion nearly out-grouched Legend whenever he was ill, famously irate and short-tempered until he was feeling better. Four was always careful to apologize afterwards, completely genuine even if he never gave the reason for whatever recurring sickness left him exhausted and wrung out and grumpy for how poor he must have been feeling. 

 

He didn’t usually run a fever though, and maybe that accounted for the noticeably worse temperament this time around, although… well, the stress of the situation as a whole certainly couldn’t be helping. Sky’s mood was notably shorter as well, and the Sailor more withdrawn than usual; all of them were coping, but the signs were still there, the weight of their worries taking their toll. 

 

Those concerns weren’t going away anytime soon, either, Sky acknowledged fearfully as he and Wind both re-entered the main room of the inn to the sound of choking gasps, carefully tucking away his concern for Four’s struggles and Hyrule’s obvious upset for now in favor of the situation at hand. Wild was surrounded by Sheikah, his dry, barking cough giving way to gasping heaves, limp bodied and suffering as he brought up what meager liquid they had managed to coax down his throat. 

 

A sob escaped the ragged Champion, barely conscious as he struggled weakly against the hands supporting him, falling limp with a weak moan. Sky was diving forward the instant he felt the tickle at his mind, a weak plea for help, a search for comfort. Cado spared him barely a glance from where he was supporting Wild’s fainting form, though Pikango took much greater interest in the arrival of another pair of hands. 

 

“Good, you’re just in time- come on, help us get him into the water, quickly now. He’ll fight it, but this is the fastest way to cool him down,” the older man said, gesturing with his hands for Cado to carry Wild over to the waiting tub of water. 

 

“In you go lad, there we are, hold him now-” Pikango instructed, and Sky had barely entered the tub himself before Cado was easing Wild down to rest against him. The instant he was submerged the Champion snapped awake with a breathless scream, muscles seizing and twitching as he weakly struggled; it broke Sky’s heart how easy it was to hold him close, to restrain him before he could injure himself against the side of the tub. 

 

“It’s alright Link, we’re just trying to help- you’ll feel better soon,” Sky murmured into that sandy, sweat-clumped hair, tears welling in his eyes as Wild gave a weak kick, gasping out a plea too broken to understand, shaking like he was back on top of that mountain, freezing again despite the heat radiating from his skin.

 

 Wind leaned in with a bowl, gently pouring water over the Champion’s scalp and face while carefully shielding his eyes, whispering, “I know it's cool now, but it’ll feel good in a minute, just give it some time.” Wild only loosed a low moan, shuddering and flinching from the water, curling sadly into Sky’s chest and weakly around the bond between the three of them, a small wisp of a presence that nearly sank completely into Wind’s shrieking seagull cacophony-boundless ocean all around- building anticipation as a clock ticks under waiting eye s. 

 

Wild passed out again in short order, limp but still breathing raggedly, interspersed with vicious coughs that brought up dust laden phlegm. Muscles spasmed wickedly, stirring the water slightly as his limbs twitched and locked up intermittently. Wind followed his questioning look, placing a hand upon the cramping appendage with a deep frown and panicked eyes. 

 

“That’s not good- we need to get him to drink something, now ,” he said shakily, only to rest his eyes on the unconscious hero, true terror blooming as he realized the logistical problem before them. 

 

“It’s fine Wind, we’ll manage. Here, Sky, lean his head back like so- good,” Pikango instructed, and wet a cloth to dripping with cool water, gently dabbing it at Wild’s parted lips. Moments passed in held breaths, and Sky shifted a hand to rub his knuckles harshly over the Champion’s breastbone. The body draped over his chest gave a weak twitch in response, neck trembling as he tried to turn his head, awake in only the vaguest sense of the word.

 

It was enough, though. 

 

A tongue darted out, and the cloth was wet further until it dripped steadily into the sluggishly responding hero’s mouth. Wild let out an uncomfortable moan, shifting his head but accepting the trickle of water as a cup was held up this time by a patient, steady-handed Wind. The drink seemed to invigorate the ill hero, stirring him enough to speak.

 

It didn’t take long at all to realize that the Champion was utterly delirious though, head rolling as he begged, “Lemme go, lemme out, need to save’m,” words slurred with exhaustion. He struggled against the cloth wound around him to keep him from flailing, and Sky loosened it somewhat as he felt the frayed panic well up in the maelstrom of the other’s mind. 

 

“It’s alright,” he promised, tears in his eyes as they continued to try to fight Link’s failing body, the lie like ash in his mouth- it wasn’t alright at all , but he could only pray it would be. “They’re safe, you’re safe. I know it’s bad right now, but it’ll get better,” Sky promised, smoothing a dripping hand over Wild’s hair. He had to close his eyes against the choking grief as the ill hero leaned into it, delirious and trusting and finding so much comfort in so small an action. 

 

Wild shook with a tearing sob, fingers clawing into Sky’s arms as he gasped out broken sentences, pleading that someone needed him, that he couldn’t do it again, and Sky just-

 

Couldn’t.  

 

He hummed low in his throat, a lullaby that lingered on as Wild grew too weary to continue speaking, only curling with desperation closer to Sky in the water, still too warm in his arms. Pikango leaned in, voice soft and creaky as he said, “He should drink while he’s awake- not too much now, but quick, before he passes out once more.”

 

Wind was immediately there with some water, and Sky helped hold the insensate hylian upright, softly coaxing him into drinking. He was passive right up until they pulled it from his lips, whereupon he suddenly twisted, insisting, “Have to leave, now, ‘fore ‘s too late!” and Sky’s breath caught at the thought that any of the others had suffered as he had, too late and too slow in spite of their best efforts. 

 

“It can wait, Link, there’s plenty of time,” Sky said in a choked voice, shaky as he pushed aside memories of his own journey when that had never been the case. It was now, though, and he clung to that fact. 

 

There was time to recover, time aplenty to save the others. 

 

(Sky didn’t even notice himself slip from the mindset of recovering the others to having to save them, unknowingly caught up in his own trauma and the bleedover of concern and urgency from Wild.)

 

“No!” Wild shrieked in a broken crackle, “Too much time, a hundred years too late- It’s, I never made it, there was too much- we…I-I don’t,” he stammered, confused and flagging fast even as his already ragged breathing sped up dangerously. “Guard’ns just… why? Why?” He begged in a small voice, deaf to Sky’s and Wind’s attempts to calm him as he went slowly slack once more, breath slowing without the panic to fuel it. 

 

Sky’s heart raced as he reached up to grip Wind’s hand reassuringly in the ensuing quiet, telling himself it was better this way as they listened to the slowing rasp of the ailing hylian’s gasping. 

 

Two minutes later, they were carefully leaning Wild over the edge so he could throw up the sad fraction of water he’d drunk, weak and out of it and frightfully ill. 

 

They settled back into the water and started over.

 

==============================================

 

Wind was well out of his depth here, for all that he’d seen similar situations. He knew the stages of dehydration and heat sickness, had seen them as minor afflictions, had been too young to be allowed in when a set of stranded unfortunates had been too far gone to save by the time their boat washed ashore.

 

As he coaxed another infuriatingly insufficient amount of water down Link’s throat all he could do was line his symptoms up with what he’d been told, what he’d read about. Here and now, they seemed caught in a terrifying cycle, one which would only end in Link’s death if they couldn’t break free from it. 

 

Under Sky’s hands the Champion arched tellingly, breath hitching in a gag, all limp, lolling limbs as they eased him to be sick over the side of the tub into a bucket, the unnecessary size of it compared to the pathetic trickle of water brought up nearly laughable, if it hadn’t threatened to bring tears of frustration and fear to Wind’s eyes instead. Another heave produced bile, Link’s stomach already emptied several times over at this point as his body determinedly refused the only thing that could save it. 

 

Wind didn’t know how much longer Link could hold out, how much longer his heart could withstand this kind of dehydration and overheating before it wore itself out and gave up. Sky was already patting the Champion’s cheek again insistently, batting his head around until finally the ill hylian murmured, fingers twitching in a barely there attempt to push the offending hands away. 

 

Pouncing again at the opportunity, Wind wasted no time feeding in another mouthful of water, hoping against hope that this time, this time Link would keep it down, would finally take a turn for the better instead of lingering dangerously on the precipice of a deadly downward spiral. A few good sips and he pulled away, not wanting to overwhelm the other’s delicate stomach, wary of pushing his luck too far. 

 

He need not have bothered, it turns out. 

 

Even that small amount was enough to send Link heaving once more, passing out as what energy he had left failed, his body’s rebellion continuing on well past the point of him fading out, finally leaving him unconscious, drooped like a week old cut flower over the tub’s wooden edge, breathing in thin, shallow wheezes. His skin was sallow and sunken, his nearly too-lean frame shaking with ague. The sodden blindfold was tinted pink and yellow, lips cracked and oozing blood.

 

Wind took a shaking breath, met Sky’s sorrowful eyes, and moved to try again when Four rushed into the main room and nearly fell to his knees beside them, eyes bright and more than a little wild, cheeks blazing still with fever. Hyrule followed as well at a slower pace, hand on the wall before he crossed over to them on unsteady feet to slump against the tub as well, eyes trained only on Wild’s frightful appearance. 

 

He was doing worse , and it was a trajectory his body couldn’t afford for much longer. 

 

Four cut straight to the chase, quickly saying, “Wind, do you have his slate? It’s possible Link stocked it with a cooling elixir- the Sheikah can’t make them, but if he travels to deserts fairly regularly-”

 

“Tera said he’s prepared, any good hero is!” Hyrule interrupted frantically, as if by convincing them he could make it true. 

 

Wind scrabbled in his Spoils Bag and drew out the odd stone slab that he’d seen the Champion use in the past, the one Sky had dumped into his hands unceremoniously when he’d arrived. “Is this- ah!!” He squeaked as Hyrule’s hand snapped out and grabbed it, immediately lunging into the bath water to retrieve Link’s lax hand, gently agitating the other’s magic in an attempt to wake him, with limited success from what Wind could tell. 

 

Placing the slack digits to the screen, Hyrule gave Four a look that had him reaching to slap Link’s cheeks in an attempt to wake him. The screen lit up with a chirrupy beep, but did nothing else, the Champion only weakly moving his lips silently as he laid there. 

 

“Wind, try giving him the tea again, sometimes that helps wake him up a little,” Sky suggested, before turning tired eyes to Hyrule and Four. “He hasn’t been keeping anything down, though, so-” 

 

And as if on queue, Link promptly heaved, shuddering over the bucket held at ready from bitter experience. Hyrule let out a choked sob, hands over his mouth, eyes wide and panicked as the ramifications set in, the bleakness of the situation laid out all too clearly before them. 

 

“No, no! Link, come on, open the slate, please, please! It’s right here, just…” A moment of silence, Hyrule gazing at Link as Wind felt a spark of magic from the slate. “No!” The Traveler cried, “You stupid stone, let us in!” 

 

He shook it viciously before Four stilled him with a hand over his own, the Traveler’s breath hitching for a moment before he switched tactics and began singing shakily, his voice no less lovely and fluting for the tears that clouded his eyes. 

 

Link’s ears twitched, still draped near the edge of the tub. They shifted towards Hyrule’s voice, flicking slightly as the slate lit up again. Sky leaned forward, pressing his face into the groove of Link’s neck, shaking with silent sobs, all their hopes strung on this last desperate chance.

 

“Please,” Wind whispered, not knowing what he was asking for but understanding that whether Hyrule succeeded here decided if Link lived or not; they'd asked for a miracle, and this would be the closest they’d get. “Please Link, please,” he asked softly, and Four leaned into his side, grabbing his hand and holding tight.

 

Another blip of magic, and the Sailor felt Link answer this time with a weak wobbling twist at the core of him. Hyrule let loose an unhinged laugh, high and unsteady. The slate beeped reassuringly and opened, Four lunging over the edge of the tub to see it as Hyrule flipped to what seemed to be an inventory screen, hundreds of items held within it- any other time he’d be impressed, but at the moment it was that many more dead-ends hiding the supposed cooling potion that Four was hoping existed within the little stone. 

 

“This one, can we just-?” A bottle appeared in a string of lights, caught by several hands before it could fall and break. “Take out more, take them all!” The Smithy ordered, and that’s how they ended up with eleven bottles of this strange, cold-frosted potion carefully placed around them as each one bloomed forth in a lovely spray of light. 

 

“Quick! Here Wild, come on, there we are-” Sky soothed as Four wasted no time tossing the cork behind him and trickling the chilly luminescent blue liquid into Link’s mouth. He paused after a few sips, and they all waited to see if it would be as immediately rejected as last time. But Link only murmured, head drifting forward to search for more, which the Smithy gladly provided, until half the bottle was gone and the Champion passed out again. 

 

The heroes waited, and with each minute that passed uneventfully the tightness around Wind’s chest eased. Sky lifted a hand to gauge the ill hylian’s temperature, smiling through his tears as he laughed, “It’s going down, thank Hylia! He’s cooling down at last!” 

 

Hyrule nearly fell into the water lurching forward to hug them both, laughter bright and relieved. Wind turned and gave Four a solid hug as well, unable to stop smiling in his relief. The Smithy returned the embrace fiercely, bottle clutched in a white-knuckled grip. 

 

“It was a guess,” he whispered, as if confessing something terrible. 

 

“It was brilliant, and saved his life!” Wind corrected, crushing him closer as if he could squeeze the negativity right out of the smaller hero. “You’re the best, Four!” He looked up at the others, grinning like a loon. “So are you Hyrule! And Sky too, you’re all just- you’re great you guys,” he said in a wobbling voice, before breaking down fully to sob atop the Smithy. 

 

The Sheikah cautiously stepped in thereafter, seeming simultaneously glad and caught off guard by the intensity of relief and devotion these strangers had for their hero. The heroes all continued to linger nearby even after they handed off immediate care, Sky not even mentioning Hyrule or Four heading back up without them. No, they all waited in the main room, glad eyes pinned warily on Link as he steadily improved until he -Wild,” Sky admitted when Wind asked about his earlier slip-up, “not that he knows it yet.” -was deemed well enough to move upstairs into a bed of his own. All the Links immediately tried to jump ship to claim that room as their collective own instead, before the Sheikah firmly quashed the idea, citing Link’s right to privacy even if he would have someone sitting with him.  Hyrule was plonked back onto the bed alongside Four, Wind laying over the pair of them to keep them there as the Sheikah shook their heads and Sky took the first shift with Wild, gladly changing out of his damp clothes and checking over the three younger heroes with before ducking out, leaving them drowsy and dropping off.  

 

Wild was still sick, still unconscious, Hyrule still recovering and Four still feverish. They were still waiting, but this time it was with far lighter hearts and far greater hope. 

 

===============================

 

Hyrule gave it a few hours, let Wild get a few more doses of the cooling potion (chilly elixir, according to the Sheikah) and recover a little before laying down the plan for clearing the Champion’s eyes out, finally. 

 

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” he admitted uneasily. “Four, do you know anything about eye injuries like this?”

 

“Not personally, no, though I’ve heard of flushing them before with water like you said. Anything after that a potion should take care of, though. We just need to be sure the sand and dirt is cleared out,” Four said distractedly, shaking his head quickly as if to clear his thoughts.  

 

Lifting a hand to settle his hair back in place, he looked at the Champion, sleeping peacefully, completely unaware of what was yet to come. “He’s not going to like that; we can’t exactly explain to him what’s happening in his state of mind. Although,” he said thoughtfully, ”He has shown to be more trusting and receptive around us; that’d be the soulbond working its usual magic.” And there was uncharacteristically blatant fondness in those even tones as he turned his eyes to Wild, the moment tainted by the manner in which that gray gaze slid out of focus before Four’s lashes fluttered and he focused back in. 

 

Hyrule felt a thread of unease for the Smithy at the sight but tucked it away for now when the other turned to him expectantly, instead opting to examine Four’s observation. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” he pondered skeptically, before looking back and realizing he really should have. After all, why else would Wild follow a stranger blindly across a desert, no arguments or doubt; even when he had been utterly delirious and hallucinating, he’d still only ever listened to Hyrule. 

 

The thought of such trust had him humming, pleased and touched, before it was immediately tainted by the realization that it had been utterly, horribly misplaced in him; Wild had nearly died , and Hyrule had been right there the whole time, for all the good he’d been. The Champion had had a fairy alongside him that whole trek, and it had been utterly useless, Hyrule had been absolutely worthless as a healer and as a hero. 

 

He’d led him out, yes. Nearly at the death of him, had Four’s mind not registered what Hyrule could have realized right away if he hadn’t been so weak as to succumb to his own issues. His magic’s difficulties in this new world were so pathetically mild compared to Wild’s suffering, and yet he’d been nearly insensate himself, leaving Wild to struggle on to compensate for his own silly oversensitivity, then leave him without treatment as he fainted away in bed after getting a boost from the Great Fairy, after getting his own help and swooning anyways.  

 

Gods, Wild could have died, and it would have been Hyrule’s fault alone for not thinking of the chilly elixirs in time- Tera had told him, he knew about the slate, it had all been right there -

 

Thank Hylia that Four at least, wasn’ t incompetent, or oblivious, or self-centered and weak and selfish-  

 

“Hyrule? Are you ready?” Sky asked in a low, worried voice, cornflower blue eyes wide and head tilted as he keenly watched Hyrule- and he could feel his wilting posture, his pinned-back ears and miserable face, all of which he quickly wiped clear. The smile he sent the Skyloftian was weak and possibly utterly transparent in its fakeness, but the last thing he could bear at the moment was the focus being on him again when Wild was the one who was still suffering, still blind. 

 

Hyrule was fine ; it was Wild who was still in need of help from what he’d been put through. 

 

“Let’s get to it,” he said firmly, and though Sky eyed him intently he didn’t argue. 

 

With the key realization that WIld was instinctively more trustful of the Chain thanks to the soul they shared, the heroes were allowed to take the lead: Sky and Wind were in charge of holding Wild down, a viciously quick series of arm-wrestling matches proving their claim that they were stronger than the average man purely as a baseline. 

 

The hilarity of watching the well-muscled Cado get slammed by their scrawny Sailor was a charming light note that faded all too quickly as they all took their places around the placid hero, Wild freshly settled upon the floor to avoid soaking the bed or risk him falling off of it when he struggled. 

 

When. Hyrule felt the familiar resigned dread that accompanied necessary medical violence such as this, wherein as a healer he had to inflict additional pain on an already suffering patient for their long term well-being. It was made all the worse when the patient was too ill or injured to understand the why’s of it, and Wild-

 

Well, Wild was doing better, yes, but he was still nowhere near clarity, still fading in and out on the waves of a high fever kept in check by intermittent chilly elixirs. It would have been nice to wait until the Champion was fully unconscious, but with his improved condition his rest was far lighter- a relief, absolutely, but it made the upcoming procedure that much more difficult for both Wild and them, and he was still delicate enough that Hyrule refused to consider a sedative. 

 

They arranged Wild on his side, head tilted towards the ground. Sky ended up spooning him, bringing his arms around to pin Wild’s against the Champion’s torso, hooking his ankles around Wild’s legs to keep them still as well. Wind cradled his head and neck, gently but firmly enough to disallow any movement or attempts to jerk back. As Hyrule gently pulled the blindfold free -he felt it stick a little, glad it was soaked through with water at least- Wild stirred faintly, eyelids fluttering where they were crusted with dried discharge, fresh, discolored tears trailing down anew.

 

Wild was silent, though even that must have been painful. He was probably already accustomed to it, Hyrule realized, after nearly a day of suffering from the injuries.  

 

“I… can’t tell if they’re infected or inflamed,” the Traveler admitted quietly to them, before Wild trembled and let out a small distressed moan as he found he couldn’t shift in their hold, prompting him to speak gently to the confused hylian, voice going soft and pretty. “It’s alright, Link, we’re going to help you; you’ll be feeling better in no time, alright? Just bear with us for a little while as we rinse out your eyes,” he explained patiently, unsurprised but disappointed when Wild showed no signs of comprehension or acknowledgement past relaxing at the sound of his voice. 

 

He swallowed heavily. “Four? I’m going to hold his eye open and cover his nose, and you pour the water over. We’ll keep going until I feel that it’s clear before we go to the next one. Simple, alright?” He said with forced cheer. 

 

“Simple, but not easy,” Four replied dismally, realigning the array of water-filled cups beside him- not the most technical of set-ups, but it would suffice. “I’m ready anytime you are, though.”

 

“Get ready, then,” Hyrule said with a determined frown. “He’ll struggle, but I can’t heal his eyes until the sand is all out- this is for the best, okay? It’s going to be rough, but it has to be done,” he reiterated, looking a nervous Wind in the eyes. The Sailor firmed his expression and nodded back, gripping Wild’s head more securely.

 

Even knowing how Wild would react -how anyone would react, disoriented and subjected to such treatment without context- it was still difficult as they proceeded, the Champion whimpering and struggling, clearly panicking as he screamed to no avail, knowing they were the cause of that fear.

 

It had to be done , Hyrule thought firmly as Four continued to rinse out the irritated eye, feeding his magic through Wild in a search for any foreign debris. Sky was murmuring low in Wild’s ear, though it seemed to be of no comfort to the Champion at the moment. 

 

Finally though there was nothing, and Hyrule wasted no time declaring, “That’s enough, this one’s good, we can turn him over.”

 

“Should we give him a break?” Sky asked uncertainly, looking down over Wild’s dripping face, the nervous sheen of sweat running along his uncovered torso as he gasped in jagged, hitching breaths. 

 

“Best just to get it over with,” Four said flatly as he poured more water into his array of cups, his calm facade betrayed by the tremble in his hands and the heavy swallow he gave as they prepared to flip Wild to the other side. 

 

He did not go calmly, for all that he was weak and ill and exhausted, screaming a desperate cry that tore at the others holding him as they began anew with the other eye. He jerked free of Wind’s careful hold, water pouring past Hyrule’s hand where it had shielded his nose and mouth from the onslaught. 

 

“Stop!” He cried, though Four had ceased the minute Wild began coughing as he inhaled the water, letting the eyelid fall closed in favor of resting a hand on the Champion’s shoulder until he had cleared his lungs, gasping and shaking, crying out again as they immediately began to flush his eye once more. 

 

All clear. 

 

“We’re good, you can loosen up. Link? Can you hear me? We’re done with the water, I’m just going to heal you now,” he said gently, hand already resting over the other’s eyes and letting his magic bubble over, washing across delicate, torn tissue and mending it anew.

 

Wild stilled under his hands but for continued trembling, the faint traces of lingering fear giving way to forced lassitude as the exhaustion hit the sick hylian hard. Hyrule continued to heal until his magic registered no further injury, instead pooling fondly over Wild as if to blanket the emotional hurt as well, though even that was quickly fading as the memories slipped through the other’s fever-dazed mind. 

 

“Link? Can you open your eyes for me?” Hyrule murmured gently, hesitating when the Champion gave no sign of following his request or registering it in the first place. “Okay, okay,” he said to himself, nervously looking at Four, who rolled his eyes and leaned forward, carefully holding Wild’s eyelids apart for Hyrule. 

 

A startlingly blue iris greeted him, rolling vaguely before focusing on his face, the sclera healthy white once more, no tears or discharge collecting at the corners. The pupil contracted as he turned Wild to the light, asking him to follow his finger as he moved it across the other’s line of sight. 

 

Thank Hylia, Wild could still see, and showed no signs of sensitivity to light past what was healthy, either. 

 

The eye slid away from him, rolling back as Wild began to slip away. Four let it fall closed, and they repeated the process with the other eye when Wild managed to rally back to consciousness. 

 

“He’s okay then? He’s going to be fine?” Wind piped up, leaning over Sky’s shoulders to peer down at the Champion’s relaxed face anxiously. Hyrule beamed up at him, curling an arm around Four’s shoulders in a side hug as he laughed. 

 

“He’ll be alright. He’s not out of the woods yet, but the worst is past us. All that’s left is for him to recover,” he said, tension draining from him, taking all of his energy with it as he slumped into Four. 

 

Sky heaved an enormous sigh of relief, Wind nearly overbalancing as the shoulders beneath him drooped suddenly, before yelping again as Sky scooped Wild into his arms and stood, Wind still clinging onto his neck like a baby monkey. He cast an eye over the pair still on the ground, looking rather pathetic in their exhaustion now that the excitement was over with. 

 

Those plush lips curved into a faux-stern set. “Alright, back in bed then, the both of you! I’ve got Wild, now you two go take a well-deserved nap,” Sky said, immediately giving way to the usual soft-eyed smile that immediately sharpened as his gaze cut over to Four, already bristling with objection. “Yes, Four, you too, don’t think I don’t know you’re still running hot.” 

 

Four raised his chin, eyebrows scrunched in rebellion. Sky continued staring, eyes suddenly narrowing, cocking his head in warning. The Smithy scrunched his nose but went willingly when Hyrule pulled him to his feet, aware of the warmth radiating through the other’s damp clothes now that Sky had pointed it out. 

 

“Come on, Four, if you’re already sick you shouldn’t stay in wet clothes. You get any worse and Sky will bundle you up and never let you out!” He joked, and though the Smithy didn’t smile some of the tension did leave his small frame. Even after they both curled up under the covers, freshly dried off, Four pressing in tight against his back, Hyrule could feel the tightly coiled anxiety radiating from the other’s mind, more chaotic than usual with little of his normal surficial overlay atop it. A quick look at his magic showed worrying levels of abnormal movement, like a beaten egg under the assault of a whisk as opposed to the powerful but controlled play of deep-water riptides that Four usually bore, directional and predictable.

 

IT was nothing he hadn’t seen before in all of the other episodes Four has suffered during their adventure, but the added illness was concerning, and he feared it may be a portent that this particular bout of affliction would be worse than the previous. Belatedly, he realized that this particular shift may have been just as brutal on Four as it had been on him, and certainly couldn’t have helped matters- it never did, for the Smithy, only ever worsening whatever it was that occasionally ailed his magic. 

 

Behind him, Four’s mind flickered again in pent up, nervous energy, clearly worn by whatever was riddling his magic with such chaotic disarray. Hyrule tried to coax it, to offer some serenity, but the buzzing frission-hammer strike felt all the way up the arm- petrichor on every inhale as a rainbow perches in the sky continued to fairly vibrate in the other, Four himself uncharacteristically oblivious to Hyrule’s attempts, as if his sense of their connection was drowned out by his own mind. 

 

Worried, the Traveler reached a hand back, and the Smithy gladly curled their fingers together, burying closer and exhaling a shaky sigh into his back. Despite his own exhaustion, Hyrule determinedly stayed awake until Four finally passed out beside him, mind finally going blessedly still, though the Smithy’s magic continued to writhe like a nest of snakes.

 

Even his dismay wasn’t enough to keep him awake as Hyrule finally found himself dragged off into slumber as well. 

 

Just when one thing finally seemed to be looking up… he thought, and slipped into the heavy sleep of the thoroughly exhausted. 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When they woke up a few hours later the four members of the Chain all gathered together for  a proper report. Four had been sleeping so fitfully that he had roused the instant the Traveler went to leave the bed and of course, insisting  that he wasn’t tired and that they needn’t put off getting everyone on the same page on his account, standing firm on the matter despite the bags growing under his eyes and faint tremble to his hands. 

 

“You’re sure?” Hyrule checked dubiously, and Wind and Sky both winced, giving Hyrule just enough time to wonder why before Four’s face curled into a snarl. 

 

“How about we all just leave me to be the judge of how capable I am, yes?” He snapped sharply, eyes angry. 

 

“Of course,” Hyrule said carefully, internally tucking his doubts about Four’s ability to not push himself past his limits somewhere the keen-eyed Smithy wouldn’t notice. “I just wanted to make sur-”

 

“Wind, you go first. What happened?” Four cut in, snapping that moody gaze to the Sailor. 

 

There was a moment where each of them weighed whether it was worth it to call Four out, before collectively coming to the conclusion to leave it be for now, though the connection spider webbing between them flexed with three-way worry. They each provided the run-down of their experience in this Hyrule thus far,  Hyrule especially being well and properly grilled over what had happened in the desert, as his recovery had returned back the most severe casualties. 

 

He managed to last about a minute and a half into a convoluted explanation that was doomed to failure from the instant the words left his mouth, because they already knew he had no natural resistance to the heat, and ‘powering through’ hadn’t worked for Wild, so there was no way it had for Hyrule. The weak delivery didn’t help either, and he eventually just stuttered to a stop beneath Four’s skeptical eyes, lips parted in disappointed disbelief.

 

Hyrule opened his mouth, trying to think of a way to fix it. 

 

He closed it again for lack of any kind of explanation that wouldn’t be even more outlandish than what he’d tried to pull off, nervously flexing his hands. 

 

Finally, he gave up under the combined force of Wind’s impatient bouncing at the scent of a secret to be spilled, Four’s menacing aura that dared him to continue lying, and Sky’s mounting nervousness as he realized Hyrule was being inadvertently backed into a corner by the other two. 

 

“Now, guys-” The Skyloftian started soothingly, trying to give the Traveler an out. 

 

“I can turn into a fairy!” Hyrule blurted overtop his salvation, panic fueling him right up until he realized what he’d done, whereupon it promptly left him in the dust to face the music alone. Silence rang out, three sets of wide eyes pinned on him; he stood firm despite the warm blush flaming at his cheeks, doubling down. “That’s how I did it, when Wild couldn’t. That’s how I got to him, and how I got back without ending up sick like him.” How he managed to avoid any of the negative repercussions of being a worthless fairy in a desert, he means. “But I couldn’t heal him, or help him, because fairies can’t heal overheating or dehydration and he walked all alone in the heat because if I’d stayed hylian I’d have been worse off still. And, and I could take us back, I could feel the fountain as a fairy, but even when we got there we couldn’t do anything to help, and- and” The rest of it died in his throat as it closed tight, Hyrule nearly choking over the guilt rising sharp and heavy in his chest. “And I can turn into a fairy,” he reiterated, because he couldn’t bear to see how their faces would change if he continued to extrapolate on how little help he’d been to Wild. 

 

“Oh,” Sky said weakly, looking lost as he took in the dismal, drooping Traveler. 

 

Four fell back onto the bed with a heartfelt groan. “Dammit, now I owe Twi money.”

 

Wind gasped, jumping to his feet and pointing at Hyrule. “That’s why you’re always hanging around Time when you’re tired! It’s his damn fairy mask!”

 

Hyrule promptly fell to his side on the bed and pulled a blanket over his head, refusing to come out again. Despite his huddled posture he did begrudgingly accept the hugs through the warm fabric, weak to their genuine delight and pleasure despite his determination to wallow in guilt. The thick cloth did nothing to hide the happy relief that sang through the bond between them at their easy acceptance, the boneless gratitude that they seemed purely happy he’d made it back alright, without any lingering bitterness over his having kept his fairy form a secret in the first place.

 

His heart ached at the bubbling gladness fluttering through it, so happy he could cry.

 

Good, he thought as the group toppled over onto the pillows, Four wiggling under the blanket with him. I don’t think I want to hide anymore anyway. 

 

======================================================================

 

Wind perked up as Wild began to stir again, caught somewhere between anticipation and worry as he waited to see how coherent the other would be this time, considering that in the time he’d joined Sky sitting with him the other had yet to speak a word of sense in the handful of time’s he’d been awake. 

 

“Hey Wi- uh, Link. How you feeling?” He said coaxingly, leaning in as Wild rolled his head to look at the Sailor, blinking blearily before smiling loopily. 

 

Strike one , Wind marked. 

 

“‘M … great ,” Wild sighed in that dreamy voice, relaxing farther into the blankets with a little snuggle and a sleepy blink.

The Champion was looking better; his skin was no longer flushed an alarming red, thin, quick breaths wheezing past bleeding, peeling lips. The hollowed, sunken look to his cheeks and eyes was much improved, and his hair had been cleaned of sand and grime best as it could be. His eyes were no longer leaking any color-tinged fluids, and the eyes themselves -restlessly flickering open, rolling about as he faded in and out- had no bloodied scores or burst vessels remaining. They were back to a near-glowing cobalt blue set against healthy white, once more able to see without any complications Hyrule could detect from a delirious Link’s passive acceptance of his tests.

 

Wild  was not , however, looking ‘great’ by any stretch of the imagination. There were patches of angry flush upon his cheeks, the rest of his skin too pale, glistening with sweat. His eyes, though no longer visibly injured, were glassy and vacant, looking almost bruised with how dark his eyebags were. He was visibly ill, just not as mortally ill as he had been.

 

Strike two , Wind thought, even though the current state of the Champion was already ridiculously obvious. 

 

He frowned unhappily, watching as Sky coaxed more cooling elixir down his throat, Link barely reacting past pleased humming as Sky gently rubbed at his scalp. The ill hylian mumbled something absolutely incoherent, Sky replying in a soft, rumbling voice while giving him some more potion. 

 

Then the champion’s head was suddenly lolling forward, glittering blue liquid dripping from his lax lips. Sky cursed quietly and pulled the bottle away. He settled him back down, wiping away the juice and the sweat beading along his temples with a damp, cool cloth. 

 

Link murmured again, already slipping away even before Sky managed to lay him back down, Wind hopping in to help support his head as it lolled back, carefully gathering his long hair and casting it out of the way on the pillow. He settled back into the chair, absentmindedly untangling the golden strands as  the room fell quiet again, for now. Before long at all Wild’s hair was completely straightened out, and Wind was once more left with restless hands and a wandering mind. 

 

Gods, but he hated waiting, and offering to play games in the interim felt extremely rude when Wild was still so ill beside them. Instead, Wind sulked over to Sky’s side and slowly burrowed under the Skyloftian’s arm, unease growing even though Wild was steadily getting better. Seeming to sense the Sailor’s anxiety, Sky obligingly curled it around him, pressing a kiss to his hair as he draped his sailcloth around Wind’s shoulders. 

 

There was a stretch of unhappy silence, both of them stewing in the mess of the last day, in the continued uncertainty of what the future would bring, with so many of the Chain still missing. 

 

“Don’t you dare let him get away without the self-preservation talk.,” Wind ordered suddenly, lips pouting subconsciously. He turned accusatory eyes on Sky. “You always give right in whenever anyone acts the least bit sad or sorry- but this time, you gotta stay strong.” The Sailor got right up in his face, snub nose nearly touching Sky’s as the elder went nearly cross eyed trying to meet Wind’s gaze.  

 

Sky laughed, gently hoisting the Sailor away, lifting him under the arms and up with disgusting ease. “I won’t, Wind.” 

 

“You gotta be tough this time, like actually tough.”

 

“I prom-hey, why do you say it like you don’t think I’m capable of being tough ? I’m tough on you guys!” Sky, renowned cuddler, sappy pushover, and #1 source of non-judgemental comfort, replied with completely unfounded indignation.

 

“You’re a marshmallow when it comes to making any of us sad, Sky, absolutely gooey,” Wind said, tilting his head onto a hand in mock dismay. “Zero structural integrity, your spine,” the younger hylian managed to say before twisting and smacking Sky in the face with a pillow he’d subtly grasped as the Chosen Hero made a dive for him. 

 

Sky’s subsequent yelp of surprise was muffled, and as he pressed the fluffy square over the other’s face Wind spared a glance at Wild, completely unaffected by the sudden theft of one of the many pillows around him or the not-so quiet struggle at his bedside. 

 

Sky’s fingers at his sides abruptly turned from playful pushes to targeted tickles though, and Wind beat a hasty retreat, snickering as Sky threateningly brandished the pillow in his direction. 

 

“See? No difference,” he taunted, and Sky buried his face in the pillow, shoulders shaking. He was still smiling when he went to replace it by Wild, playfully side-eyeing Wind as he teasingly lingered over the array of ammunition piled under his hands. 

 

In the end though, he opted not to risk waking the infirmed hylian, settling beside Wind with a slightly-too-hard ruffle of his hair. The levity slowly drained from the room, and Sky sighed, though he didn’t sound quite so dismal as he finally said, “I don’t know how much good it will do, but I won’t let him go without something . The real trick will be to get him to see that we want him safe for his well being- not just to use him as a means to an ends.” 

 

“I think… He’s used to that. I know that’s what it always seemed like, on my own adventures. As long as it didn’t interfere with the quest, it didn’t matter.”  Wind said, too bitter for his young age. Too experienced with the less savory parts of the world for someone so young. 

 

Sky leaned into the smaller hylian’s side, voice reassuring. “We’ll change that, Wind. It’s not that way for any of us anymore, and he’s part of the Chain now. We won’t let him burn himself out.” 

 

“Yeah,” Wind said, perking up a little. 

 

On the bed, Wild started to toss and turn again, and they settled in once more to wait.

 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Next time around wasn’t any better, though it was more amusing in its continued harmlessness.

 

“Presentation?” Wind guessed, and it almost aligned with the garbled mess that Wild slurred again moments afterwards. Sky sent Wind an amused look as he stroked a damp cloth over Wild’s fevered forehead, already propping him up for the now familiar ritual of dosing him with some chilly elixir. 

 

“Shhhh, we get it. Presentation. Don’t worry Link, you look great, you’re looking so much better,” Sky crooned, soothing him as he helped him drink, this time well-prepared as the other passed out again in the middle of a sip. 

 

Sky sat back, hands lingering consideringly near Wild’s hair, and Wind mouthed “Pillow” at him when he finally raised his head, a question on his lips. 

 

His mouth snapped shut and his eyes narrowed, but the Skyloftian shook it off with an over-dramatic sniff, running his hands through Wild’s hair with a thoughtful look once more. 

 

Rolling his eyes, Wind bounced over, nudging Sky out of the way. “No no no, I’ve got a little sister. If anyone’s gonna give Wild a nice, good looking braid, it’s gonna be me,” he said confidently, gently turning Wild’s head to get a better angle to partition the hair out, deftly producing a loose, neat braid he tied off with a proffered length of tie from Sky. 

 

“Very impressive, Sailor,” the Skyloftian said with wide-eyed honesty, blinking down at the long, elegant braid laid caringly over Wild’s shoulder. 

 

“It was nothing,” Wind said with a small smile. 

 

Sky’s smile was knowing and serene as he leaned back, closing his eyes. “You know it wasn’t.”

 

================================================================

 

The next time Wild woke up, Sky was on watch. The Champion was well and truly drenched, the relief as he’d begun sweating again from fever nearly offset by the fear of him dehydrating himself all over again; a panic that proved unfounded, fortunately, as the doses of chilly elixir continued their ongoing success in helping him keep down fluids. 

 

“It’s alright, Link,” Sky said softly as the Champion twisted his head to the side restlessly, fist clenching in the blankets. He turned into Sky’s touch along his forehead and opened bleary eyes, which wasn’t a surprise. 

 

Then they focused on Sky, and he perked up at the chance that the other was finally lucid. “Link?” he checked hopefully.

 

“Hi Sky,” came the raspy reply, and gods but the Skyloftian could cry. They’d known Wild would recover, that he’d be okay, but there was something that had lingered in his stomach, dark and oily and wretched, until this moment, hearing Wild speak to him and look at him and see him. 

 

He slumped forward in an oozing pile of relief. “Thank Hylia, Link. You can’t do that to us, you hear?” He demanded, and despite Wild’s drooping ears and sad eyes couldn’t hold himself back from continuing, that fear still too close and raw, the promise he’d made to Wind ringing in his ears. “It was too close, far too close for all of our liking. You were really sick, and nothing we did was working fast enough for how quickly you were worsening.” 

 

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push aside the memories of despair and impending grief in favor of a cold recall. “Four finally asked about cooling elixirs, and we managed to get the sheikah slate unlocked and some from your stock. I know you said the transport only worked for you, but we didn’t know everything was keyed only to you. For a minute there, we thought you wouldn’t be able to unlock it for us.” He forced out a weak chuckle. “Hyrule was about ready to throw it in the pond, I swear.”

 

Wild made a complicated face at that, quickly resolving into frantic concern, trying and failing to sit up. “How is he?” The Champion demanded, face crumpling in confusion,  I don’t… remember anything clearly. But I thought… he was with me? Not as a fairy, but ‘s a hylian.” His head wobbled unsteadily before he turned hazy eyes back to Sky, all dazed naivety and limpid blue eyes. “Is he okay too?” 

 

Sky tried to hold back the soft smile for only a second, bringing a hand to hide his mouth as he fondly surveyed the hylian before him, completely unaware of what he’d just said, only thinking of Hyrule’s well-being. The Skyloftian let out a rich laugh, playfully saying, “Good thing he gave up the ghost and told us, or you would have blown it.”

 

Wild blinked blankly, still concerned and still utterly unaware, perhaps, that their Traveler’s other form had ever been a secret at all. Sky caved in, assuring him, “Hyrule’s fine, just magically exhausted and a little overheated. He was unconscious for a while too, and up and around before any of us liked, but there was no keeping him from pitching in to help.” Sky ruffled a hand through his hair, biting a plush lip  thoughtlessly. 

 

“He was really upset he couldn’t heal you. We knew fairies’ and his healing didn’t work on sicknesses, but being able to do nothing to help you when you so desperately needed it hit him pretty hard.” Sky frowned, for none of his reassurances that none of them saw it that way -or that Wild himself would see it that way- had done anything to soothe Hyrule’s misguided guilt. 

 

And as he’d expected, Wild’s ears pinned back, a horrified look clear on his face as he let out a pained sound, as if the thought were an injury upon him. Sky grabbed his hand at the sound, leaning in close and palming his cheekbone in concern; they’d looked him over countless times by now, but as long as he was awake, it wouldn’t hurt to check- “How are you feeling? You’re still too warm, but it’s so good to have you lucid again, thank Hylia.” 

 

Link relaxed fully, head falling back as he sighed. “Better. Much better, thanks to you all.” He hummed, eyes still closed, and Sky frowned at him, too pale with fever-red cheeks. Perhaps lucid had been a bit… overreaching. “Tired and sore. There’s a headache, still.” 

 

Sky shifted to gently stroke along Wild’s temples instead, softly massaging with his fingertips, keeping his voice low and smooth as he soothed the Champion absentmindedly. “Good, good. Or so much better than ‘terrible’ that it’s good, rather. I kicked ‘Rule out again about ten minutes ago to go get some sleep, so I’d expect him to be coming back in to check on you any minute now,”  he said with a small smile, glancing at the door as if Hyrule was going to burst in any second; if he were being truthful, Sky was more than a little surprised he hadn’t already. Since he hadn’t yet, though- “Honestly, make sure you tell him there wasn’t anything more he could have done. I think he’s upset with himself, thought he should have done better , or more for you.” 

 

Wild opened his eyes again to glare muzzily at Sky, the flaming passion greatly crippled by the way his eyes refused to focus. His voice however, was the epitome of gasped affront.  “He did great , excuse you,” he breathed, puffed up in offense on Hyrule’s behalf.

 

Sky let loose a laugh, waving his hands in the air defensively before clapping them. “That’s perfect! Just like that!”

 

Wild looked as if he were missing something, but remained determinedly skeptical of Sky, side-eyeing him with a healthy dose of suspicion. 

 

It was at that moment that Hyrule made his appearance at last, whispering “Link?” from the doorway before he spontaneously appeared at the bed, already checking Wild over as he asked “You’re feeling alright?” He checked, musical voice bright with nerves. 

 

Wild gave him a wide smile, loopy and out of it but clearly happy. As Sky tried to get out of Hyrule’s way Wild suddenly whirled on him, betrayal in his eyes as the Skyloftian withdrew his hands from that long, golden hair. He opted to rest a hand on Wild’s leg instead, and the Champion seemed reluctantly content but settled back regardless with one last sad, longing look just to punish Sky for his abandonment. 

 

It was done in jest, he knew, but he couldn’t help but imagine that same look as Wild must have been wandering the desert, without any true help save for Hyrule, trapped in his fairy form by the cruel climate. He swallowed against the tightness in his throat, already feeling the conjured nightmare image sinking into his mind to haunt him later. 

 

What was one more set of nightmares, anyways? As long as he could wake up and find it merely a dream, Sky would survive. Sleepless and tired and sad, but he’d be fine. . 

 

He snapped back to Hyrule looking Wild over for the umpteenth time, filling him in on Wild’s steadily dropping fever and how much true rest he’d gotten while Sky had been with him, as well as what Wild himself had just mentioned. Hyrule sent him a grateful smile, but sent a flicker of magic through Wild anyways, and at the sight of the soft rosy pink of the glow, Sky once again kicked himself for not realizing the nature of their Traveler sooner. 

 

At the very least, it shouldn’t have been such a complete surprise as it was. Though magic wasn’t rare exactly, healing magic to Hyrule’s degree of skill was, especially since he wasn’t even using an item, just his own raw energy. Add in the lovely, melodic voice and shy, pure-hearted nature, and it fit . 

 

He’d not transformed for them, citing exhaustion, but Sky was internally vibrating at the thought of a tiny Hyrule, all sparkly and glowy and cheery. 

 

Sky was snapped out of his fairy-centered reverie by Wild tilting his head to look into Hyrule’s eyes and say with devastating honesty, “I didn’t get a chance to thank you, ‘Rule.”

 

The Traveler froze, eyes wide, and Wild’s face drew tight with sorrow at the surprise, one hand trying to reach up in comfort only to fall back. Instead, he continued on insistently, fever-bright eyes imploring. “I wouldn’t have made it if it weren’t for you. You have to know that; the molduga would have finished me if the heat or dehydration didn’t,” he said desperately, half rising from the bed as he tried to make the other see . 

 

Sky remained silent, smoothing a hand over Wild’s knee as he listened. 

 

“I know,” Hyrule said plainly, but his eyes were still so, so sad as he pressed their folded hands to his cheek. “I know , but I’m a healer, and I was helpless while you were suffering there. We got out of the desert and you just kept getting worse. We got to Kakariko, and supplies, and water, and none of it was working . You were dying in the desert, but even after I got you out you were still dying, and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop it. If Four hadn’t-”

 

Hyrule’s voice caught on a choked breath, as if the words were too cruel to voice aloud. His gaze suddenly focused on Sky’s face, eyes meeting in a near tangible collision. Hyrule took a steadying breath, pupils gradually dilating back over sage green irises. 

 

His voice was calmer when he continued, almost detached compared to the earlier panic. “It was sheer dumb luck and Four’s brains that saved you; he’s the one who deserves your thanks. My getting you out wasn’t going to save your life, not until he thought of the cooling elixirs.” He sounded defeated, as if he had personally failed Wild when he had almost given everything himself to ensure their return to safety. 

 

Link let out a weak laugh, eyes unfocused. “Wouldn’t’ve been here for Four to save if I was still in the desert, ‘Rule.” He blinked so slowly at first Sky thought he’d fallen back to sleep, before stirring once more. 

 

Those brilliant blue eyes were fierce as he sent a smile at Hyrule, gleeful as if he had the surefire answer. “What was it you told me, back with the molduga? Just cause you couldn’t help this time, doesn’t mean you’re useless, or weak. It doesn’t mean you won’t have my back later on.“

 

His smile softened, his voice a dreamy croon as he gazed at Hyrule with all the gentle support of a parent. “It doesn’t mean I’m not so damned glad I had you with me, blind and scared and sick but not hopeless, not lost , because I had you. And you were all I needed, ‘Rule. We made it, just like you promised,” he said, in a voice so purely happy that Hyrule couldn’t help but breathe out all the self-reproach and guilt he’d been carrying, not without subverting Wild’s absolute relief. 

 

Sky smiled as he watched Hyrule give in and give up his self blame, falling into that same simple pleasure at their happy ending that Link was basking in. His voice was quiet but unendingly wondering as he murmured,  “Thank you, Link. You don’t know how much that means to me.” A wet laugh, and Hyrule burrowed his head into the Champion’s shoulder. 

 

Seeing the heavy blinks as Wild cupped a hand in the Traveler’s curls, Sky leaned forward, grabbing the cup from the bedside table. “Here, drink this before you go back to sleep,” he said, and Hyrule straightened at the hint, taking the time it took Wild to finish the drink to collect himself once more, slipping back into the role of healer with a significantly happier cast to his body language this time. 

 

Wild also seemed satisfied at last, finally letting himself slip back into that dreamy, vacant state. He only started a little, sleepily wondering what the time was, before Sky gently leaned him against his chest as he rearranged the pillows, Hyrule watching with a smile from the side, finally reaching forward to help as Wild nuzzled into Sky’s warmth. 

 

As he went to lay the other down he clung to the Skyloftian with sleepy stubbornness. When Sky moved as if to peel the Champion away, Hyrule gently stopped his hand, eyes mirthful as he good-naturedly told him, “I never thought I’d see the day you passed on cuddles and a nap.”

 

Sky stifled his laugh into Wild’s hair, before accepting his fate and resting next to the dozy hero as Wild curled towards him. Hyrule rested at the side of the bed, rubbing the Champion’s back as he immediately drifted off, still sick enough that even a few minutes awake had exhausted him. 

 

They were both quiet for a while, relishing in the calm, easy breathing of the newest member of the Chain. 

 

“He’s right, you know,” Sky began. “It was a group effort to save him, and if any of us had failed he’d be dead. You were a part of that, just as important as Four was.”

 

“As important as you and Wind were, too,” Hyrule said firmly, and Sky felt the last of the worry fade away, because if Hyrule was busy looking out for other’s disregard of their contributions, that meant he’d finally stopped hyperfocusing on his own. 

 

Still, the Skyloftian found himself having to cut off the instinctive argument as he realized it would also nullify what he’d just said to Hyrule about all their roles being essential. His lips quirked, and by Hyrule’s smug, devilish little happy hum he was well aware of what he’d done. 

 

It was good to see things getting back to normal , he thought, and Wild shifted closer, murmuring indistingly. 

 

Or rather, it’s good to see everything getting even better than it was.   

 

===========================================================

 

As soon as Four’s fever broke, he was allowed to take part in the Wild watch, and he did so with pure determination that the Champion would wake and submit to a very thorough questioning and scolding, the Colors having decidedly fixated on the failings of their newest companion and had plenty of time to get worked into a collective rainbow tizzy over it. 

 

And if his fever hadn’t ‘broken’ so much as been temporarily vanquished by a dose of carefully hidden chilly elixir -Wild himself had no further need of them, Hyrule had decided a few hours ago, only water and fruit juice to keep hydrated- then it was an action so clever he refused to feel guilty at the cheating feel of it. 

 

Even if he did fear what the others would do if they found out about his purposeful misdirection. With any luck, the fever would resolve itself before anyone caught on, or at least remain manageable with the elixir he had. 

 

Dangerous game to play , Red chastised with a twirl like a blooming rose, dripping azure water into Blue’s concurring unease. 

 

We agreed it was necessary, Green shot back, trampling messily over the others but bulldozing ahead regardless. We all wanted to talk to Wild, and this was the easiest way.  

 

Besides, bedrest was wearing on the both of you too, especially since it’s not going to fix the fever that we all know is coming from the current discordance here , Vio said dryly, a lavender powder dusting over Green’s mossy spread like pollen.  

 

We think that’s what it is, Blue argued moodily, but who can say for sure? Doing it once is fine, but I don’t know if we should keep pushing our luck with it. 

 

Green wavered uncertainly at the thought of making anything worse, and Vio whirled on him in frustration at his easy capitulation. Red tried to jump in only to get scattered about, the whole damned mess getting on Blue’s last nerve as he too jumped into the fray with a roar like a crashing wave. 

 

Four swayed, gray eyes distant, head throbbing viciously. 

 

As if sensing that this was the one time the Smithy was unprepared to deal with him, Wild chose that moment to jerk awake, lunging upright with a hand to his head. “How long have I been out?” He demanded intensely, clearly shaken by something as Four pushed him back down, the Colors shocked into ringing silence within him. 

 

The blood that had drained from the Champion’s face slowly slipped back as he laid there, giving Four just enough time to sweep his own frazzled state of mind away with practiced speed, instead focusing on the lecture he’d been building up for the last hour of waiting.  

 

“Calm down, you can take some more time,” he said evenly, because it was either that or Blue’s brash order would escape his lips.” You almost died, after all. It’ll take a little while to recover from that.” 

 

Keen blue eyes blinked and focused in on him, running over his frame and flickering with recognition. “Four, how long have I been out?” He asked agitatedly again, and it was very easy to guess why. Red had been right, but he didn’t feel any happier than the others did at the fact, unease rising up fast and heavy. 

 

Four breathed in a measured breath, and out, answering with hard facts; easy, detached. “Only about a day since you and Hyrule got back. You showed up yesterday evening, and it’s about.. Hmm, six thirty in the evening now.” He turned his face to the window, watching Wild from the corner of his eye through the curtain of his hair. 

 

The Champion immediately reacted negatively to that little snippet of information, sitting up and burying his hands in his hair, tugging anxiously. “That’s too long, why did you let me sleep that long?!” He demanded, though it didn’t take Red’s intuition to see that the aggravation was directed primarily  inwards, not at Four. 

 

He reached forward and gently freed Wild’s l ripping fingers from his hair, giving him an unhappy look as the concern that had been amplifying within him threatened to bubble to the surface. “It’s not nearly long enough,” he said with a proper sapphire-stained glare, nightshade purple bleeding in from below. 

 

“When you arrived you were dangerously overheated and dehydrated. Since it wasn’t an injury, ‘Rulie couldn’t heal it, and red potions also aren’t very effective against sickness. Or symptoms directly caused by heat related illness either,” he said sharply, “As we found out. Not until you’ve managed to get the temp down and fluids back up, anyway.”

 

Four shook his head sharply, crimson manipulation making a go for a guilt trip. “You really scared us. Hyrule felt so guilty he couldn’t save you sooner, Sky was distraught that you left unprepared because of him, and Wind just wants everything to be okay again.” He tilted his head defiantly, staring hard at Wild, who only looked back with the kind of placidity that Four would kill for right now. 

 

“You said ‘us’- what were you feeling?” The Champion asked wonderingly, disarmingly discerning as his eyes looked thoughtfully into the distance for a moment before piercing Four once more. 

 

A flurry of tie-dye emotions, all too bright and too sharp and too overwhelming as each Color remembered and felt and answered- Afraid, sad, lost, helpless, frustrated -

 

“I was mad,” Four said with the remaining shreds of his control, trusting in Red once more as he made a guess. “We understand just as well as you how time sensitive the situation is, however: you’ve been rushing in half cocked to every temple so far, and where has it gotten you? More and more injured, so sick you’re out of the game for a day.” He paused for a moment, bracing himself against the onslaught of emotion before Green won out for a few seconds. 

 

“It’s the most efficient method, yes,” he said grimly, “But not the most effective. And we need this to succeed; the cost is too high for us to fail even once, with anyone.” And the instant he said it, Four could tell that it landed wrong, though for the life of him he was too clouded himself to see how . Did Wild truly value himself so little, that Four’s reinforcement that they weren’t going to sacrifice his well-being for the others…

 

Well, maybe that hadn’t been the best wording after all, he realized dizzily as he tried to recount what he’d said in a blaze of verdant passion and blue assertion. 

 

Wild left him no time to rephrase though, his expression wounded and voice bitter as he replied. “For me to fail.There’s no ‘we’ here. They may be your friends, but as much as you want to help- when I go, I have to go alone,” Wild said, straightening his shoulders as if accepting a mission from a commanding officer. 

 

So convinced that only we can fix the wrongs we see , Green said tiredly. Where have we seen that before? Red/Vio answered in a smear of color. 

 

Four tabled that for now, focusing on the fact that Wild thought that he was on his own, apparently completely oblivious to just how untrue that was. In his defense, he had been unconscious and delirious for the last day, but honestly- Wind and Sky had bonded with him for sure, to hear them speak of the newest hero, and that kind of connection isn’t one-way.

 

“You think that just because you’re leaving alone, you have no one to help? Or care?” He asked loudly, a volatile mix of emotions bubbling forth. 

 

He jabbed a finger at the other, eyes blazing. “We’re all heroes too, Link. We’ve all been forced to take on incredible burdens completely on our own, and we’ve agreed to never do it again, not while we have each other. That includes you, too, whether you accept it or not,” Four said before leaning back. 

 

 “We don’t want to do the same to you; just give you a quest, and kick you out to do it all by yourself. We’re here to support you in whatever capacity you need us to and in whatever way we can, whether it’s strategy, information, supplies, or just comfort and support.” Four promised fiercely, barely stopping short of shoving his face into Wild’s, instead sitting next to him, eyeing his receptivity before giving into the clawing need for contact. 

 

“Whatever you need, we want to help you with,” Four said vehemently, nearly vibrating with the force of his emotions. A warm flush was running through his body, whether because of how worked up he was or because the elixir was wearing off, but he brushed it off as unimportant at the moment either way. Wild would be distraction enough; with the Champion’s personal image and emotional state as messy as it was, the others would be tripping over themselves to try to fix it in whatever ways they could. 

 

Like Hyrule’s attempts to recreate Sky’s pumpkin soup? Or Twilight’s? Or Wind’s Grandmother’s? Or - A muddied cackling laughter as Green and Blue coiled together. 

 

Four shook his head sharply as if to banish the memories, but the acrid taste of charcoal and burnt socks appeared as if summoned by unholy powers to cover his tongue nonetheless, so potent was the experience despite the time that’s passed. 

 

Face twisted slightly at even the shadow of such horrors, Four admitted half aloud, half to Wild,  “It would be easier if you would tell us, though; some of us are abysmal at reading people. You risk someone doing something monumentally stupid in a misguided attempt to cheer you up if you leave us to our own assumptions.” 

 

Wild looked at him with parted lips, and Four could only blink confusedly back as those blazing blue eyes suddenly watered and the Champion turned to curl into the headboard. Completely bewildered, Four froze, twitching slightly as the Colors argued uselessly over what to do, finally just flopping forward to hug Wild from behind. 

 

The Champion grasped his wrist gently, and Four thought that the gratitude he was picking up must surely be from their soulbond, not from the general chaos in his own mind. 

 

Vio drew away from the blissful haze of the comforting touch first, drawing himself into fine focus to say, We should check that -  “We really can’t come with you to help? The slate won’t allow it?” Four asked, and blinked in confusion at the thin barrier between thought and speech, suddenly. 

 

Link hummed before speaking in a slow, thoughtful voice, the sound vibrating pleasantly under Four’s ear. “I can take passengers; I told Wind as much. But if a normal transport is inconsequential to me, normally effortless until I’ve done 20 or so in a row, adding a passenger is noticeably exhausting. That’s with perfectly functioning shrines.” Wild said pointedly, and Four found he couldn’t pick up anything at all from the bond, nor anything when they were sitting like this, Wild’s voice too serene and lilting to give the impression of anything more than mild emotions that were beyond his current ability to parse. 

 

The Champion was perfectly willing to sit up once more though, having calmed from his earlier emotionality not at Four’s open declaration of brotherhood, but at his plea to be honest with the group. 

 

Of all the things to cry over , Four wondered.  

 

The Smithy was just along for the ride; he doubts he knows anything, anymore. 

 

Still, he puzzled aloud over what he knew, trying to draw more information from Wild. Trying to draw one specific answer from him, the most important one of all: “Wind said you got sicker each time you came back; I think he’s afraid you’re going to just…die one of these times.” 

 

He gazed at Wild with dangerous focus, the question unsaid but demanding an answer nonetheless. 

 

Wild stood fast for a second before shifting. “The broken shrines are different,” he said defensively. “Worse. But it’s hard to say which symptoms have been from the shrine and what’s been from… adjacent complications.”

 

And that was it. 

 

Four waited, but it was clear that that was all Wild intended to say on that unless pushed. Unluckily for him, Four was standing before an elaborate array of dominoes and could not WAIT to see the picture they painted upon the ground.  

 

“You mean the hypothermia from getting me?” He said acerbically, charging on without drawing a breath or pausing a moment. “Or maybe the internal bleeding from Sky’s rock giant. I can see why being unconscious and half out of your mind from fever and delirium would make it hard to tell what these ‘broken’ shrines are doing, exactly, yes.”He bit out, the Colors’ indignant fury and concern a whirlwind within him that couldn’t be restrained any longer. 

 

Wild snapped back, that dreamy tone gone low and dangerously smooth. “It’s more than twice the effort to bring someone else along. At this rate, I don’t know how many more jumps I can manage, “ The Champion admitted with quiet anger, clearly taken by his temper. “I can’t risk it if taking one of you now means I can’t pilot it later on. Then two additional passengers, to get us all back to Kakariko again? I, I don’t think-” Wild’s jaw snapped shut, cutting the flow of honesty short, and the helplessness at the Champion’s admissions, the realization that they couldn’t follow, that they’d be stuck here, the frustration that Wild had stopped speaking-

 

It all boiled over at once in a froth of rainbow chaos. 

 

“What?” Four shouted, “ You don’t think you’d survive it?” He demanded, eyes wild. He panted for a second in the silence, before he was taken again by a lashing whip of entwined navy and iris purple, binding him tight to his fury. “From what I’ve been told, what I’ve seen, you’re right. Each time you leave it’s more dangerous, and you don’t seem to care at all for your life with how reckless you’re being.”And, and-

 

That last part wasn’t rage, was it? It was fear, and his voice choked on it, strangled under the weight of ‘what if?’

 

What happens when a hero doesn’t care if they make it past the end?

 

What happens if everything depends on them, and they decide they don’t care?

 

His voice was nothing more than a wrecked whisper as Four stared into space, the Colors tangled and silent and shivering as he spoke hollowly. “Do you even know what you almost did? If you had died, that would have been it. You didn’t tell us where anyone else was, or what could happen to them, nothing. None of the Sheikah here know anything, or even where to start looking! You would have been dead and they would have been missing and where would we have been then?!” His voice had raised to a shout by the end, lips pulled back in a snarl as he forced Wild to see what could have been, because of his carelessness and recklessness, because, because-

 

Because he didn’t care about himself, didn’t see his own value aside from a tool for the Chain to use to gather together once more, willfully ignorant of the fact that he was Link in their group as well.  And gods, Four didn’t want to reinforce that manner of thinking in any way but if it was speaking in terms Wild could understand that would get him to listen -

 

He’d do what it takes. 

 

Wild was hesitant as he spoke, and Four barely heard him over the screaming panic and disorder of his own thoughts. “I’m sorry,” he said in a subdued voice. “I- I know that it would have been bad. It’s one thing to act urgently, but-” 

 

A laugh that had nothing of joy in it, one hand coming up to lightly rest against Wild’s temple. But I should have at least given you guys a brief overview. I’ll do it before I head back out, you’ll know where to look if…” He said hintingly, seeming afraid of voicing the words, as if it would trigger Four once more. 

 

The Smithy hated to admit it, but it very well might have, if the unfinished thought’s effect on his rapidly spiraling control was any indication. He curled up tight, face buried in his hands as he tried to hold back the shuddering sobs that were trying to break free, all of it too much suddenly. 

 

“Four?” Wild said softly, horrified.

 

“What do I have to say?” Four begged the Colors, digging his hands into the delicate skin of his face, but there was no coherent answer, only a violent confused splash of crimson overlaying pale sage splatters. 

 

A hand rested upon his back, and the muscles there flexed beneath it as he drew a shuddering breath to no avail. Four whirled upon the other, grasping his shoulders and drawing their faces close.

 

 “What do I have to say,” he demanded in a low, shaking voice, “to make you realize that we care for you beyond what service you can provide us? I know you feel it too, Link. A sense of kinship, the need to protect us. An unflinching belief that we’re deserving of your trust, though you have nothing to base it on. Wanting to see us happy, and healthy, and doing well in the world. The reason you are risking your life eight times over for perfect strangers, Link, though no one told you to or asked it of you.” He said intensely, making far too much direct eye contact , some distant, rational part of his brain pointed out. 

 

“I’m a hero,” Link answered firmly. “A champion of Hyrule. It’s in my job description to do this kind of stuff.” 

 

Four nearly screamed, then, before Red suddenly came tripping back into focus with a Wait! He knows, can’t you see?

 

No, no, he couldn’t, not as dizzy as he was, blinded by his own flaring emotions. 

 

Can’t you feel it? Red tried, and the Colors all whirled, trying to settle, to focus, to move out of the way so the sensations vibrating across the soulbond could be understood. 

 

The faintest twinge, a moment of striking connection- but it was enough. 

 

Autumn leaves crunching underfoot- that first sip of well-made broth- fingers sinking deep into lush moss.  

 

Kinship, serene acceptance.

 

Four sighed, closing his eyes against the most recent slope of his emotional rollercoaster ride. “Don’t you get it?” He asked tiredly, “ We also feel that towards you, Link. You’re included in this; it’s not a one-way connection. We want what’s best for you, same as you do us.” He said with a cheeky smile, hoping that this time, at least, the message had gotten through. 

 

Wild flushed and averted his eyes at the honest words, nervously fiddling with his hair before finally seeming to notice the braid securing his hair. 

 

“Does that include braiding my hair for me while I’m asleep?” he said in a clear attempt to move away from the emotionally drenched conversation. 

 

Four paused for a moment, wondering if he should press the issue, make sure that this time he truly had been blunt enough, before Wild’s easy posture and fond eyes convinced him that this time, the Champion had heard and taken to heart his words. 

 

The Smithy was also worn out from their talk, and coming due for another dose of elixir for the fever he could feel settling back into place. He played along with no little enjoyment of his own, before setting Wild up with some clothes and ducking out to grab him something to eat and let Hyrule know he was truly awake and alert this time. But not, of course, before Wild tries once more to insist he has to head out immediately, sparking up the headache that had been easing off with the resolution of their discussion. 

 

“We literally just talked about this,” Four said, fingers clawed as if to strangle a certain stubborn hero. 

 

“Yes,” Wild agreed with complete certainty,  before halting and tripping onwards. “But- ugh, fine, yes. Bring in the others though; I’ll be fine to talk tonight still, and we can see where it goes from there,” he ordered before standing slowly but steadily on his own. 

 

Well, so much for possibly holding off on the chilly elixir then- there’s no way he’d be able to hide the returned fever from the others if they were stuck in a room for a few hours. Frowning at the complaints whipping around in his mind, Four decided that delegation was the better part of valor. “You’ll have to take that up with Hyrule. Wait here while I get the others,” He said tiredly, before stopping at the door, turning with a faux friendly smile on his face.  “Oh, and now that you’re no longer delirious, I think they’re going to let you have it for scaring them so badly, so you should prepare yourself for that,” he said sweetly, leaving Wild to his dread as he made his way down the hall.

 

He ducked into the supply closet along the way, drawing the elixir from behind the various bottles and baskets within and taking a few measured sips, feeling the cold chase away the uncomfortable heat from his body, at least for now. 

 

The Colors twist within him in a nauseous curl, and he shakes his head sharply, lifting a hand to rub at his temples as he meandered down the hall once more. He knocked on the door of the Chain’s double room, only to find it empty when he opened it up. Grabbing some food from their bags -travel fare, but bland enough that it was probably for the better on a delicate stomach- he trotted down the hall to see if the others were in the main room. 

 

They met him right before the stairs, and he barely got out, “He’s awake-” before he was pressing himself against the wall to avoid being run over, hearing the squabble immediately sparking up inside the room and deciding that his throbbing skull could use a break while that quieted down, assigning himself the task of searching for Wind. 

 

All he had to do was make it through this final rundown, then he could relax the rest of the night and mull over the problem of how best to assist Wild before he left again, and it proved surprisingly easy, for a change, Wild proving to be a quick study, if still a bit clouded as he continued to recover. Had they all the time in the world and a less stubborn Champion, Four would have insisted that they hold off for another day. 

 

Wild was stubborn though, and so they disseminated all their collective knowledge then and there; they had the names of the rest of the shrines now, even if they still had almost no way to comprehend how far they were in Wild’s vast Hyrule. It was not everything- the Champion’s endurance, though impressive, was still not up to that length of conversation- but for now, it was enough. 

 

They went to bed having agreed to reconvene in the morning to reassess Wild’s condition and adjust their timelines accordingly. Assigned to share with Hyrule, Four dosed himself once more with some elixir before practically passing out on the bed, brain nearly staticy with competing thoughts and ideas and plans and worries. 

 

They knew where Wild was going, now. What dangers he was facing, and he in turn, knew of the strengths and weaknesses of the rest of the Chain. It was enough , he told himself as he fitfully tossed around in the bed, Hyrule doing a poor job of feigning sleep beside him. 

 

And it was, right up until they noticed the moon was bloodied, and everything went all to hell . 

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Four woke with all the muzzy disorientation of a far more sick hylian than he’d gone to bed as, bones heavy and head aching more deeply than before. Hyrule was gone, which was good; he could feel the sickly heat of fever once more gripping his body - told you so what did we say why’d you do it - barely registering that he hadn’t awoken so much as been woken when he noticed Sky in the doorway, clearly waiting for his acknowledgement. 

 

The Chosen Hero took a step into the room, one hand on the doorknob and the other braced against the frame, as if he’d meant only to peek his head in and wake Four with his voice, but realized something was awry.

 

And it was, but Four wasn’t ready to deal with that yet, and he sensed the perfect distraction of an emergency in Sky’s body language. A thread of worry leaked into the Skyloftian’s low tones as he asked, “Four? Wake up, somethings happening with the moon and Wild’s freaking out.” 

 

Barely holding a moan within his chest, Four peeled open his eyes again, trying to look alert and somewhere even close to healthy, waving Sky off when he took a few steps close still. “Freaking out how?” He asked, rubbing at his eyes to hide how slow they were to come to alertness, the unhealthy flush of his cheeks. 

 

“He insisted he had to leave right away and ran off into the woods- he was… not doing well, but the Sheikah said to give him space, that the Blood moons were a problem that should have gone away when Ganon was defeated,” Sky said, and by his voice he also had no idea what that was- the Sheikah and Wild hadn’t seen fit to involve that in their summaries.

 

No fair, Red whined warping across the spectrum into searing indigo. Running off into the woods alone was our idea , Vio grumbled, bristling with abyssal blue glow. 

 

“Slate?” Four demanded, raising his head to stare at Sky, alarmed. 

 

“In his room still,” Sky said, waving down his concern. “He wasn’t leaving, just needed time alone first. But I’m not under the impression he was going to wait long,” the Skyloftian warned, fidgeting once more, clearly antsy to go out and search for Wild or hunt for answers. 

 

That was fine, Four would prefer him gone as well, even if he also was desperate for the Skyloftians’ cuddles, for his generous heat as the night air suddenly turned cold around him, a sensation he’d had enough of when he’d first landed in this damned world.  

 

“I’ll wait at his room in case he tries to come back for it, if you want to wait outside or go searching. How long’s he been gone?” He asked tiredly.  How long has he been sleeping through another crisis?

 

“Five, ten minutes? Not long, but also, too long? Considering the rush he was in and how worried the Sheikah are. As far as I can tell, the moon’s just red, but everyone’s scared about something , and Hyrule says the magic isn’t right, that something really is wrong. Can you feel anything?” Sky asked, turning back into the room. 

 

Four took in a shaky breath, tamping down on the shivers that tried to escape. His magic was naturally more useful as a tool for sensing and reading others or objects, more sensitive to the slight aural nuances than of true use for any spells; at most, he used it for some minor magical tools. Now though, any subtle details of whatever a red moon meant here were lost on him, his ability to sense completely overwhelmed by the agitation and frenetic flurrying of his own magic, a key sign that the Colors were becoming more dangerously intertwined. 

 

Somethings wrong alright, Vio said darkly, dripping across the darkness into navy fear. It’s tainted, unhealthy , Blue whispered, flipping in frantic flashes with Green’s voice and visage. 

 

“Yeah,” he managed, “Something’s off, but I don’t know what. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before either.”

 

Sky nodded, seeming to accept the vague non-answer before stepping back. “Stay at his door- if one of us finds him we’ll bring him back, alright? Thanks Four!” He called, and the Smithy could hear him jog off, the pace unusual for the normally sedate Skyloftian.  

 

That’s how Four found himself leaning heavily against the wall outside Wild’s room as if it wasn’t the only thing holding him up, still exhausted despite all the sleep he’d gotten in the last two days. He hadn’t even had a chance to drink any chilly elixir, either, Sheikah swarming the Inn like a kicked bee hive, nervously hovering about for their hero.

 

He let his eyes slip closed, head falling back as he fought the urge to slide to the floor, heartbeat pounding in his ears in a bid for domination over the fearful squabble of the Colors. 

 

The door suddenly opened beside him and Wild stepped out silently, scaring the everloving shit out of Four. Clutching his chest, the small hero eyed him over before stepping closer, alarmed, because the Champion had his slate in hand and looked very much ready to head out, despite the condition he’d been in just hours ago. “Wild,” he tried, “you should really wait.  They’ll be here in just a minute and I know they’d want to say goodbye-”

 

But Wild shook his head, shaking and afraid, speaking quickly.  “There’s no time, Four. Tell them I’ll be careful, I promise. Just like we planned. Hopefully I’ll be back before midnight, otherwise it might take awhile.” He finally looked over at Four, clearly not seeing him if the distant eyes were anything to judge off of, giving a perfunctory, weak, “Try not to worry too much,” before the Smithy lunged forward, suddenly very afraid that Wild was going to leave right then and there, looking so very afraid at whatever was happening. 

 

Stop him! Grab him convince him keep him here trap him tell him it's alright-

 

He didn’t know what to do . 

 

“Is it truly so dangerous?” He asked desperately, trying to understand. “You know it would be best to wait until you’ve recovered more. Is it worth the risk?” 

 

How could it be? What was a blood moon, what did it mean ?

 

A twist of deep green, of powder blue, of desaurated, sickly red and lurid purple, as wrong as if a foreign entity had reached into his mind and wrung the Colors together. He would have collapsed at the feeling if he hadn’t still had a hand braced on the wall. 

 

An odd moment where he nearly passed out, and then it was gone again, only the same sickness he’d awoken with. 

 

Wild swallowed heavily. “It is, Four, I swear. There’s no time to waste if we want to save whoever’s at the spiral shrine.” The other nodded, eyes cast in shadow, lips thin and worried. 

 

“Good luck, Wild,” he murmured into his chest, lost for anything else to say, all his usual wit torn from him by the maelstrom within his mind. “Godspeed.”

 

As if on queue, there was the sound of a door slamming open downstairs, and Four held the hug, keeping Wild there, with them, where maybe one of the others could think of something to make him stay. 

 

“There they are, just wait a minute-” he said, looking over his shoulder to find the others sprinting down the hall, finally letting Wild go when the other subtly shook him off. 

 

They were already speaking over one another, and they would get nothing done but to scare the Champion off, so Four let out  a piercing whistle before it could escalate any further.

 

“Hey!” He said in as steady a voice as he could muster, stern and snarpy. “Wild’s heading out, now. He needs to get to the shrine before the blood moon raises the monsters there.” 

 

Sky’s head jerked up in alarm, visibly fighting down the desire to step towards Wild. Hyrule curled in on himself, looking pale and shaky, eyes nervously flitting over the Champion despite his health being a non-factor in his decision to leave immediately. Wind held back not one whit though, running forward to tackle Wild around the waist, burying his face in the other’s shirt. That was all it took for Hyrule and Sky to gather as well, Four staying back for now as he reclaimed his space on the wall. 

 

Against the wall , Blue pointed out wearily. 

 

Details , Red tittered weakly.

 

There was a sickening swirl inside him again, and he closed his eyes briefly against the dizziness, opening them to find he’d missed a chunk of conversation but that Wild was still blessedly present. 

 

Wind clasped Wild’s sleeve, hesitantly asking, “Grab me a souvenir, yeah? Whatever’s close by, like a seashell, or a random hylian named Link.” 

 

Wild mustered a weak twitch of his lips. 

 

“Whatever’s on hand, yeah.” He promised, and it seemed to satisfy Wind, even if it didn’t clear away the worry. 

 

“Be safe,” the Sailor requested. 

 

“Be smart ,” Four corrected, brows furrowed, straightening to a casual lean against the wall as Wild looked at him. “Remember what we told you about the others, and don’t do anything stupid, or reckless, or-” 

 

“I’ll try to use my brain Four, don’t worry. I’m not going to be alone,” Wild said, and the call back to what Four had told him eased his mind more than anything else would have. 

 

He looked down at his slate and it lit up at his touch, fine strands of pale light creeping into existence to dematerialize him before their eyes. Wind waved first, then Sky and Four and Hyrule as well, more reserved than the Sailor’s full arm flail. 

 

Then he was gone, and there was only the four of them and the strange magic in the air. 

 

Hyrule was instantly in front of him, eyes blazing a soft pink at the center of those mossy green eyes. “Four,” he said with forced calm. “When were you going to tell me that your fever had gotten worse ?” Sky gasped, whirling as well, Wind’s eyes widening as he brought his hand to cover his mouth at Four’s audacity to hide his resurging illness now , of all times. 

 

Shit.  

 

At least that meant he could finally sit down.

Notes:

Four: Don’t make me pull this car over
Red: WE’RE ON A ROADTRIP FIVE STATES FROM HOME WE’RE ALL TRAPPED HERE YOU INCLUDED

Four: It’s okay I can just duck out to the woods
*Wild is officially declared MIA*
Sky: We’re on LOCKDOWN no one is allowed out of the (C)area
Red: Shit
Blue: Shit
Vio & Green: SHIT

Wild: X.X
Four & Hyrule: Give him some MILK

Sky: I promise I won’t give in the instant I get puppy dog eyes from him
Wind: mkay I just BET

Four: *receives an armful of chilly elixirs while his style’s being cramped by a fever*
Four: I haven’t heard Hylia speak this loudly in a loooong time

Next up on which of the Chain is actually way worse off than you realized in Follow the Lights is… Four! Stay tuned for more inside deets on which Links got way more Wreck’t than Wild ever noticed!

So yeah, the Sheikah wouldn’t have the ingredients on hand for a chilly elixir, being nowhere close to anywhere where it would be necessary- high mountains, sure, but why go up there? And I’ve also become aware that the Inn in Kakariko is just a one floor building with all the beds right out in the open stable-style, so instead of me revamping everything we’re just going to pretend it's a two level building with a main sitting area and a few guest rooms instead.

What’s hilarious and also completely by accident is that when Hyrule arrives in Kakariko what he’s suffering from isn’t new or anything- Legend or Time would have recognized it as the same weirdness that afflicts him after the portal jumps, though obviously more severe due to Unfortunate Attributing Factors (yes they do indeed notice, the whole Chain does but those two know it’s something about the magic specifically, and yes the native Link is always happy to let Rulie hang around closer for a little while if it helps him feel better faster). But alas, Sky and Wind don’t have a knack for magic sensing, and Four wouldn’t know because after a portal he’s always out of commission himself lol so he’s never paid close enough attention/had concentration to spare to assess Hyrule’s magic himself in those cases.

Little does Four know that he does this (I.e. Gets really cranky and short-tempered) everytime the Colors start to get too scattered. It just happened so quickly this time that Wind and Sky are even more worried; usually it ramps up slowly, but the whole Chain knows to keep a closer eye on him and be a little gentler in teasing when he's like this. They just assume it's a recurring illness and that he gets grumpy when he’s not feeling well; Four doesn’t really realize they’ve noticed anything at all, lol. His normally pretty awesome people reading skills and situation analysis goes to shit when this happens, as it turns out. And Wild, of course, is too caught up in his own recovery/panic over the blood moon to notice any of this either.

Hyrule’s description of Four through the soulbond goes out to waterspouts’ fantastic ideas in the comments, and Four’s description of Sky is all thanks to Imsotiredofwormmart’s contributions. Thank you guys for your help!!

Chapter 6: When the Moon Hits Your Eye

Summary:

Things go right for Time -New son! New son!- and then they don’t.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Minor Descriptions of Illness & Weight Loss, Vomiting

Time until Wild Contact: 1 Day, 7.5 hours
Chapter spans: 1 day, 8 hours, ending at 10:45 PM
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 6

Time knew immediately after entering the new Hyrule that he was in for one helluva ride. 

 

One instant he was stepping through the portal to the sound of Wind and Legend heckling a bet over whose world they’d come into, and the next he was crumpling to all fours as he exited the void between worlds, his magic pulsing within him like a struck bell. The sensation of vibrating bones and the aura of power threatening to shake away from him was only worsened by the external agony of electricity -where the fuck was that coming from?-hungrily biting across his plate armor to burrow under his skin and dig into his muscles. He felt a cry wrench from his throat as his torso seized under the onslaught, gritting his teeth as he tried to move away, to escape whatever this was only to falter, panting as his wobbling magic sent a mind-blanking blast of pain through his skull and down his spine. 

 

It was too much, too sudden, and he struggled to gather his thoughts as the pain and overload continued to shake them from his mind, because what of the others? What-

 

Time was forced to close his eye against the skittering lights as they crackled once more with renewed viciousness, bright skeletal branches of light drawn inexorably to his prone, struggling form. He groaned, kicking out a leg as he writhed, trapped within the jumping electricity and the metal armor gladly inviting it into his body.  

 

His mind shuddered into focus amongst the pain, just for a few seconds, jumping automatically to the soulbonds between him and his boys- were they alright? Were they suffering too?

 

Silence and absence, the lack hard to focus on through the screaming, roiling pain his body was in. 

 

Where were they? He wondered in pained stops and starts, feeling himself start to slip as his mind tried to escape the agony in unconsciousness. “No,” he choked out through gritted teeth, more of a punched out breath than a word, but a denial nonetheless as he tried to move, to do anything except twitch helplessly, clawing at the ground. His back arched in combined agony as his magic rattled around him and electrical impulses cranked his muscles to vibrating tautness.

 

Time struggled and jerked and felt the faltering fear of dying here like this - were the other’s trapped as well? Why couldn’t he feel them -

 

(You know why) Came the dark whisper, his deepest fear.

 

He twisted onto his side, shaking as a periodically contracting hand fumbled at the buckles of his armor in a weak attempt to remove it before his waning consciousness slipped altogether-

 

Something thick fell partially upon him, and he was suddenly bundled up in stiff fabric as he was dragged in a few sharp tugs to fall a short ways into grass, and then drawn further yet before left to lay there. Limbs still twitching as the effects of the electricity lingered, he turned his face into the ground, gasping as if that would clear the haze from his mind, would let him feel where his boys were as he tried to drag his head up to look, to find them-

 

“Link? What happened, what’s-on wi-hear m-?” The voices filtered uselessly past his ears, only the name snagging upon his frazzled mind for a moment. 

 

He managed to get himself onto all fours, unsteady as his arms continued to periodically jerk, muscles spasming still. Time was unaware of the hands fumbling at the buckles and straps for him right up until the weight of his cuirass fell away from his heaving chest. Someone dragged him by his arms to sit up, head bobbing as it continued to refuse his commands to look up, to look for the others. They needed him, they needed help too-

 

Bracing a hand blindly upon a shoulder, Time tried to heave himself up, surroundings a colorful, wobbling scene of a forest and rocks and something shining blue and bright.

 

The smell of horses, warm and musky and familiar.

 

Home? He wondered weakly, his eye fluttering as he fell back to the ground, body finally throwing in the flag, forcing his mind to follow into darkness. 

 

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Time awoke stiff and sore, his magic still unsettled and shaky within him but no longer vibrating nearly out of his skin with reverberations from whatever had gone wrong with the portal. It was as if something had taken the smooth layer that hung in a clean aura around him and crumpled it like paper, heedless of the wrinkled network of stress lines left behind. They would smooth eventually once more, but were painful and brittle in the meantime. 

 

He instinctively reached out, and the feeling was familiar in all the worst ways, an isolation he hadn’t known for months now- The portal, the others!

 

  His eye flew open with a gasp, one hand darting to push himself up as he mentally groped around for anyone, any hint of their presences, so warm and bright and dear. 

 

Time couldn’t feel any of the younger heroes nearby, his connection to them silent with distance. It was a completely useless and entirely sentimental act in futility as he insistently prodded at them, already knowing there was no point; they’d already well established that the soulbonds were only active in close proximity, and for all that Time had the best range of all of them he still had no sensation either past a certain point. 

 

(They’d had a contest one night to figure out where they all ranked; Sky was last, predictably, and Twi not much better. Hyrule had him beat completely on how well the Traveler could read the others’ emotions correctly, but Time? His greatest ability was a complete, smothering blanket of leisurely serenity that he could and did happily toss over the mind of any misbehaving hero who may be ignoring their need to sleep or relax. 

 

They could shake it off if they tried hard enough, but only if they really, truly didn’t want to succumb to that deep, calm comfort, the feeling drawn from lazy nights on the ranch with Malon, from evenings around a campfire with his boys. Lazy chatter, calm contentedness, good health and a lovely sky above. 

 

Legend was hilariously wary and also suspiciously inept at shaking the effects off for someone who truly didn’t want any help getting a sound, dreamless sleep. Wars would never admit he needed help, but was always grateful the next morning. Sky, on the other hand, needed absolutely no help but melted at Time’s blanketing effect anyways. 

 

They called it smothering, and he was very, very careful to hide the smile on his face as Wind muttered “Emphasis on the mothering.”

 

Gods, but he loved them.)

 

The soulbonds were all there, seven of them, still firmly anchored in the minds of the heroes Time viewed as sons with all the vicious, protective devotion of Nayru herself. He sagged limply back down onto the bed, resting a hand over his eyes in exhausted relief, adding several tic marks to the mental board he kept tracking how many years they aged him, mentally, with these kinds of things. 

 

Outside their power or not, these boys would be the ruin of him. Time had spent so much of his life alone, in one sense or another- isolated as the only hylian amongst kokiri, as the hero on a quest, as a child in an adult’s body, and then the other way around as well. 

 

Alone in all ways, once Navi left, and never came back. 

 

Then he’d had Malon, all kindness and honest truths he’d needed to hear and face and utter devotion and affection he’d never believed himself worthy of until she beat it into his skull over years with her indomitable will and soft, tender kisses and every small, inconsequential action she took to show that she loved him. 

 

He’d never known what it was to have a weakness rest inside another person as a piece of his heart, to willingly welcome the danger of loving a living thing until Malon, until these heroes from other times each wandered into his life and immediately took up a shard of his heart with little more than a greeting and a thought. 

 

And like a fool, he gladly let it happen, gave himself over to each new opportunity for loss, for another abandonment.

 

(He knew how this adventure would end, but he would never have given up his time with Navi, not even if he had known back then that she would leave, and to imagine living without this connection, this joy, this unspeakably warm pride and affection for his family-

 

That thought hurt worse than any inevitable parting.)

 

For all that a ranch is not a hazardless place to live, and for all the worry he felt for Malon without him at her side, it had nothing on their current adventure so far as danger went, and his poor, Old Man heart gave a familiar burning ache in his chest at the most recent realization that his boys could very well be in harm’s way, and far from his ability to help or protect them. 

 

They must have been separated, Time acknowledged grimly as his heart rate slowed down from the blind panic he’d awoken with to a tight, background anxiety, forcing himself to relax somewhat as he dropped his hand from his eyes and sat up. If any of them had landed with him they’d not have left an unconscious member of the Chain alone, and certainly wouldn’t have wandered far enough off to fall out of range. 

 

Though it was a point of great concern that not only had each of their three groups been separated as each trio passed through the portal, but that he’d also been split from the pair he’d entered with as well; need they join hands to avoid it in the future? Or was it unavoidable?

 

Was it the result of one of Dark Link’s machinations? 

 

What it was , he thought tiredly, was another wrench he didn’t need to be worrying about every time they got dragged from one world to another. Something to ponder and stew on as he searched for them, and there was no time to be laying about in bed when there were seven wayward trouble makers just waiting for their chance to shine.

 

Using that internal threat of all the shit that tended to hit the fan whenever his boys were let loose without proper parental supervision, Time dragged himself to his feet, muscles shrieking along his legs and back as he moved slowly. Gods above, for all that they teased him and called him Old Man, he didn’t usually move like one, but if they could see him now-

 

Who is he kidding? If they could see him now -shaking and weak-limbed as if caught in a fever0 they’d be concerned, first and foremost, and force him back into bed immediately, saving the teasing for long after they’d ensured he’d be fine. Which he would be, just maybe a little farther down the line than he could afford to rest for at this moment in time. 

 

Time wandered forward a testing step, feeling the tightness along his calves and spiking down his neck but deeming them manageable and therefore insignificant as he immediately began looking around for the armor someone had managed to wrangle off of him while unconscious. He felt exhausted and weak, still, and he spared another moment to imagine Sky and Twilight forcing him to blessed bedrest in such a condition-

 

But they weren’t here, and that was the entire problem, wasn’t it? He didn’t even know where here was, for Farore’s sake. Time had apparently been settled in a large open tent furnished with several beds and a table, evening falling outside the open flaps, through which soft music in a familiar tune lilted in. There was a desk hosting a dark-skinned man, who had his head cocked curiously as he watched Time wobble about, calmly drying a dish before settling the towel over his shoulder in a neat, practiced flick. 

 

“Up at last, stranger?” He called when Time acknowledged him with a slow nod, sounding friendly enough. He made as if to come to check on his recently unconscious hylian patient, but Time waved him off as he drew slowly to his feet, hand tight around the bedpost as his legs threatened to turn to jelly beneath his weight. 

 

Not promising, that. 

 

Do your job , he mentally ordered his legs.  

 

“How long was I out for?” Time asked the man who was still watching him with polite concern in his pinched brow, studying the stranger for any sign of threat before kneeling -landing too harshly as his muscles gave way before he could settle more gently to the ground-  to check his inventory, finding everything in place and accounted for as the other answered. It was a habit that always made him look mistrustful and suspicious of others, but he was, and if that warded off any attempts at deceit or deception then all the better, though this time it truly was merely habit, only covering his bases. 

 

Time felt at ease, here, and he trusted his instincts after years of honing them. 

 

The man’s voice was naturally jovial, and he seemed relieved that Time was for the most part alright. “Only a couple hours- sooner than we expected, considering how long you were getting zapped by the shrine. We thought you’d be out through the night.” 

 

A glance up from his masks showed the other reaching for a plate as he continued on, voice even as he continued to watch Time check his gear, seeming unoffended by the show of mistrust. “How’d you end up there, anyway? It went up in lights and electricity, and we found you caught inside it when we went to check who was there. All that armor was a poor choice if you didn’t want to get shocked,” he jibed politely, pure customer service in his voice. 

 

Ah, it seems Time’s arrival there had been suspicious after all, though not overtly threatening, considering they’d still rested his sword against the wall beside his bed instead of confiscating it. The man seemed only mildly wary, but not enough so to overcome the innate goodness that had him helping a complete stranger to recover from an incredibly odd, painful experience. 

 

Even if the arrival was less than welcoming, at least the people here seemed friendly enough. 

 

Time sifted through his potions, snorting in amusement for the other’s benefit and in no small part at the obvious attempt at digging for information. He could afford to throw the man a bone, though, and hopefully win himself some points for transparency.  “I wish I knew myself- I’d certainly not have been wearing it if I had known I was going anywhere, to say nothing of somewhere just waiting to electrocute me,” he said dryly, finally rising from his crouch, waiting straight-faced for the light-headedness to fade as his hand hovered over his sword consideringly before deciding against arming himself. 

 

If they meant him harm, he’d not have woken up unguarded and unrestrained. Besides, first impressions were everything, he’d found, and the man had reason enough to be wary without Time walking around with a giant sword upon his back. Instead he shouldered his pack -no reason to tempt fate and leave it unattended- and approached the desk, glancing outside as he did. 

 

In the dusky light he could make out a river, and landscape stretching out into a field bracketed by trees. There was no sign of any other buildings at all, save a very distinctive castle in the far distance, dark against the deepening violet sky. Only a dirt road ran past out front, and he could hear horses nickering on the other side of the tent walls, but that was it, even the music gone silent. 

 

“Where is this, then?” Time asked politely, taking in the world around him with calm curiosity serving as a thin veneer for the growing unease at being unexpectedly alone once more, so suddenly parted from all the younger heroes he’d taken under his wing.

 

He wasn’t used to this kind of silence, not any more. Months on the road with a group of teenagers and young adults had gotten him accustomed to a certain level of background chatter and noise, and for all that he’d luxuriated in the quiet of the third night watch every now and then he found himself stiffening in discomfort here in the midst of such silence. 

 

They were missing, the ache in his chest drummed out. They’re gone, and he had to find them before they got hurt.  

 

“Riverside Stables, sir. And I’d be the stablemaster, Lawdon,” came the prompt, polite reply, elbow rested on the counter as the stablemaster tipped his head amicably. 

 

“Time,” he returned with equal respect, also not offering a hand to shake. “Riverside Stables, you say?” He said invitingly, hoping for further clarification. Time waited, but the other seemed unbothered, and not purposely rude as he merely nodded, eyes on his task; apparently, this was a sufficient amount of information to the average traveler, then. Nonplussed, Time motioned with his jaw. “Is that Hyrule Castle?” 

 

Now, that had the other shifting, gaze darting up to him uneasily. “‘Tis indeed. Not familiar with the area?” Night-dark, intelligent eyes sharpened as he straightened from the counter, freeing his hands as he looked up at Time with no fear- only wary contemplation as he surveyed the tall hylian before him, dropped from nowhere. ‘Where do you hail from, then, that you don’t know our castle, Time?” And his name was said with mild weight, a subtle warning that he’d said something wrong, but there was no way to know what . 

 

Gods, but he hated talking to people as suspicious as him. 

 

He knew what to do though, even if he’d rather have left such things to Wind’s charm or War’s charisma; hell, even Legend’s wit came in handy when the Vet could be properly motivated to take over. For all that he took on the closest thing the Chain had to a leader position -laughable, considering how equally responsibility was shared, and how little his so-called authority was ever respected- it had not taken long for the others to realize Time was not amongst the top picks for gathering information. He’d too little patience for nonsense, no knack at all for small talk, and far too direct a nature to endear strangers to him without putting in significant effort to act otherwise. 

 

Just his luck that now, when he’s so tired, he finds that he’ll have to use the energy to try.

 

Time purposely set his stance casual, loosely folding his arms before him as he settled easily onto one leg, letting his posture slump and his good eye go half-lidded. “Not Hyrule, you’re right,” he chuckled light-heartedly. “Though we’re not too many generations out from the grands’ who did live here. I returned with my other relatives, but I never expected to be split from them quite like this,” he said, letting his mouth twist into an unhappy frown. All of the Chain shared a similar enough look that they’d claimed to be family before without drawing any doubt, and without them here Lawdon had no reason to doubt his word. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen any of them? We were eight strong, and I don’t like the idea we were all scattered about.”

 

“There were that many others?” Lawdon wondered, before blinking back to himself. “We didn’t see any sign of anyone else, unfortunately,” he said with a shake of his head, the long side bangs swaying with the motion. 

 

“I suspected as much when they weren’t here when I woke,” Time admitted, frown deepening as he brought a hand up to cover his mouth, eyebrows knit together in worry. 

 

Lawdon leaned forward, the early nervousness gone now that the older hylian seemed nothing more than a concerned, lost man separated from his family. “Don’t worry, if they got caught up in this Link’ll find them. Since you came through a shrine, I’m sure he’ll be along to investigate soon,” he promised, and it took every ounce of willpower Time had not to perk his ears or twitch at that major bit of information. Lawdon continued, oblivious to the hero’s current revelation that their group was to be nine in total.  “We were sure it was him who’d done something crazy when it first happened! Imagine our surprise when we found another hylian had somehow managed to sneak a ride in- or, I suppose, gotten kidnapped, moreso,” the man said, quickly sobering in consideration to Time, still frozen where he’d gotten snagged on the prospect of a new Link. 

 

A new hero, a new soul bond, new family , he considered with an internal purr of satisfaction, as excited at the prospect as a dragon crooning over a new diamond within their hoard. After meeting all the others, he can’t possibly imagine not loving this Link all the same, can’t picture him possibly not being as brave or kind as all of his other sons had shown themselves to be in their own unique ways. 

 

His family felt whole, yes, but that didn’t mean that this new hero wouldn’t find room in Time’s heart for him when they finally met; even the thought of it unlocked a new space, another piece of his heart already waiting to be given away.

 

Damn it , Time thought with nothing but painful euphoria.   

 

His silence was not, apparently, acceptable, and Lawdon continued to push for more details, any details, of how Time had gotten dragged to this shrine. “What happened, exactly, though? They never behaved like that any of the times our wayward hero used them.” 

 

Time sighed and tucked the warm feeling away for now, looking outside as he considered what was safest to say, here. “I wish I could say myself- we were traveling together, and then one step to the next I was suddenly here, being shocked in more ways than one,” he said with a wry little grin, earning a small, hesitant smile from the other man. “They’re competent enough, but I don’t want them on their own for too long, regardless.”

 

He flicked a hand to the castle, and made his riskiest move yet. “We agreed that if any of us got separated, we’d meet again at the castle,” he said with not an ounce of finesse -and being completely honest about their plans for separation, he would like to note-, curiously waiting to see what reaction it would garner this time. 

 

Outside the tent walls, Time heard a couple muffled gasps, and the accordion that had been playing when he first awoke jumped a note or two from out of sight towards the road. Lawdon himself drew back as if Time had slapped him, eyes wide with alarm. “The castle?! Why would you ever set that as a meeting point?” He asked, as if Time were mad. 

 

Time blinked at him- no need to feign his confusion. “Why wouldn’t we? It’s the most distinctive location in Hyrule, isn’t it?”

 

“For all the wrong reasons!” Came a new voice, low and with an odd undertone, heralding the appearance of a large blue and red bird from outside, accordion still clutched with his wings. 

 

Time stepped back in alarm at the towering figure advancing on him so rapidly, hip bumping solidly against the counter as his gait faltered. At the movement, the bird seemed to realize it had startled him and stopped, slightly sheepish but still clacking his beak nervously, feathers nervously tapping at the keys on his instrument.

 

“Time, meet Kass, wandering Rito bard.” Lawdon said with some recovered aplomb, turning on his heel and  leaning out the outer window of his desk to glare at the unseen listeners. “Ignore the others, if they’ve not the manners to introduce themselves,” he said pointedly to the unseen eavesdroppers.

 

Three boys tripped in, the eldest adult embarrassed at having been caught out, though the youngest happily began to trot over before being caught by his brother, who tipped his head and apologized, giving their names- Yolero, Izra, and Ami, all three of them brothers.

 

Time’s heart twinged, worrying desperately for his own missing family.

 

“You can’t go to the castle!” Kass insisted once introductions were finished, “It’s far too dangerous, are you mad?”

 

That… didn’t bode well, considering that if they’d each been separated all of the others would be making their way to the castle that was not currently making itself out to be a very good rendezvous. They had no secondary meeting point; they’d never considered that they’d need it, and there were few other places that existed across all their timelines. 

 

“He’s a foreigner, Kass, he doesn’t know- though I’d have thought Hyrule’s state of affairs would have made it well past the border by now,” Lawdon said as he turned back to Time with a cocked head, eyes curious. 

 

The experienced hero waved his hands, giving a self-effacing laugh. “I never claimed to be a historian, or even very savvy of the on-goings of the world. Dangerous or not,” he said as he fell back into a sad, resigned smile, “That’s where we set our rendezvous point. If it’s truly so bad, then I need to go all the more to make it safe or to warn them away from it.” 

 

Lawdon tucked his chin, uneasy. “I… suppose now that the Calamity is gone from the castle it’s not the total death wish it was before, but… for all that Link visits it frequently, monsters still tend to accumulate there, powerful ones that feed off of the lingering dark magic. I’ve heard there’s a task force that’s trying to purify it, possibly rebuild the town, but that’s a ways off, yet.”

 

“I see,” Time murmured. “And… this Link?” He asked innocently, leaning against the desk to take some of the weight off his weary legs. 

 

Lawdon snorted and Kass perked up immediately, hopping on his feet like a cheerful, oversized chickadee. “Link is our esteemed hero! He who vanquished the Calamity that has haunted our kingdom for a century, held back by Princess Zelda herself- I have a song about it, if you want to hear it?” He offered, lifting his accordion. 

 

Time considered the night falling fast outside- he wasn’t going to avoid traveling in the dark tonight anyways, and any information on Link was well-appreciated.  “I would love to hear it, yes,” he said with keen eyes, and the contents were interesting indeed. 

 

Chilling , but interesting. The lines ‘Gives his life’ and ‘pays the price’ were foreboding indeed, though it seemed that this newest hero was alive yet, and still running around to investigate strange events such as the shrine Time arrived at. 

 

“I should leave tonight,” he murmured halfheartedly, even as his own assessment of his body proved that he may not have a choice but to spend the night here. Time shifted his weight testingly, and found his legs worryingly shaky beneath him, his head too often going light and floaty even just standing there. 

 

But, the others- he knows they’re alive and in this world as well, but until he sets eyes on them again there will be an itch in his feet and a tremble in his heart for fear of what could happen in his absence, without his help or support and that’s enough that he has to at least try.

 

Time refocused on Lawdon, who was looking very unimpressed by his statement, and only looked more so at Time’s request, “Would you leave a message for Link, asking him to wait here, or-” he winced, because they had just said how dangerous it was, “Meet at the castle when he arrives here? I fear I may need help searching for my family, if they do not show up on their own. If he’s the hero as you say, he would be my best chance.”

 

“You are not leaving tonight,” Lawdon said flatly, and Time pulled up short, blinking in surprise.

 

Yolero added his two cents, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, I don’t think so. You were looking pretty rough when I pulled you out of the shrine, and I know I’m still feeling shaky and sore myself, and you’ve got to be way worse off, having been stuck there so long!” He exclaimed, eyebrows pinched in worry, shaking his hands as if to send remembered sparks of lightning from them. 

 

Take it easy, Old Man, we don’t want you keeling over on us , he could hear Wars jibing. 

 

Well, they weren’t exactly wrong.  

 

The younger man continued, more confident as Time listened without arguing. “There’s no way you’re good to head off to the castle and deal with whatever monsters have popped up there this time, even if you do seem like a competent sort, with all that armor and whatnot.”

 

“Thank you,” he said awkwardly on reflex, then shook himself. “But I should head out as soon as I can-”

 

“What about the monsters?” Kass chirped, cocking his head as he stepped beside Time, towering over him- the hero would be more intimidated if not for the distinctly kind glint he could now see in those intelligent avian eyes, the genuine care in that voice. 

 

“I’m an adept swordsman,” he assured them. “Though you didn’t see me at my finest, I am rather skilled and an experienced traveler and hunter, well-practiced in clearing roads of monsters myself.”

 

Kass laughed, a great booming thing that struck a lovely harmonic double pitch. He whacked Time on the back cheerfully, sending the tall hylian staggering forward, legs like noodles and just as weight bearing without the support of the counter. He crumpled down straight into Lawdon’s arms; the stablemaster had come around the counter and lazily approached, and seemed not at all surprised to suddenly have an armful of hylian to deal with. 

 

“Right,” he said, hoisting Time’s arm over his shoulder as Izra sent his brother some dramatic rolled eyes -teenagers, he swears - and then came to help, both of them distributing him gently onto his bed from earlier after soundly ignoring his futile attempts to get his feet back under himself. “So you are not going tonight. Rest up, take a night, and then tomorrow we can see about you getting yourself a horse and going on your way. But I’m not letting you out here to get yourself killed- what would your family say? What would I tell them, hmm?” Lawdon asked, leaning in with a stern look and making a very valid point.

 

Time recognized a losing battle- this man had the same no-nonsense aura that Malon carried so well, and Time had been well-conditioned to abide by it already. Maybe it was something about working with horses …

 

He heaved out a sigh of defeat. “You’re right.” Time leaned back against the headboard, dragging a weary hand over his bad eye- he could feel it trembling as it rested there, warm and calloused. “I’m sorry- the thought of them there, when you said it was dangerous…”

 

“If you were far away and they didn’t get caught up in this as well, then you’ve plenty of time before they’re close. If they did get caught up, well, there’s not that many places so much closer to the castle either.” Lawdon patted his shoulder firmly, Kass sending him a smile over the other’s shoulder. “You said they were competent; now you’ve got to trust in your words and what you know. It can wait until tomorrow, it has to.”

 

Time sighed again, but could already feel his body succumbing to the much needed reprieve of the bed. “Thank you,” he said quietly, moving his hand to cover both eyes, utterly exhausted. 

 

“Of course,” Lawdon said sincerely. “Is there anything else you want to know?” He offered kindly, Kass settling at a table on the far end of the stable and starting to play that familiar cadence once more, soft and sweet.

 

There was plenty he had to ask about, and the stablemaster was glad to share what he knew about their hero and the state of their kingdom. By the time he went to sleep, the night didn’t feel anything like a waste anymore. 

 

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Come morning, first thing was first- Time needed a horse, which was both easier and harder than he’d realized. Lawdon had readily told him that they weren’t for sale or rent, but that there was a wild herd just through the forest that he could catch one off of and get registered, if he didn’t want to walk to the castle. 

 

“I’d suggest a horse, if only so you can outrun some of the monsters and avoid unnecessary fights,” he said, before smiling. “Though you did say you cleared monsters, so maybe that’s not really up your alley in the first place. That, and it takes speed, stealth, and strength to catch them, and I’m not sure how much you’ll have to spare for chasing around wild horses tomorrow.”

 

Maybe it was the company he kept, but Time thought he heard some age-related skepticism in there as well, and that pricked his ranch-hand pride just enough that his fate was sealed thereafter, lest Malon ever find out that he backed out of a chance to do the Lon name proud.

 

Having gotten a full night’s sleep meant that Time was indeed feeling much better, a few sips of red potion having taken off the edge of sore muscles, the weariness abating with good rest. He’d opted to at least try for a horse- for the speed if nothing else, and for the pure fascination he couldn’t deny feeling over the thought of taming a wild horse on his own. 

 

(And for the satisfaction of the  look on Lawdon’s face when he rode it back, Time acknowledged wryly in the hind part of his mind.)

 

It had been awhile since Epona had first calmed under his hands and to her song, but the feeling of it was something he’d never forget: a free spirit unbroken, a partnership based on trust-

 

This was a chance to feel that again anew, and Time was excited.  

 

Sans armor but armed with his sword, he meandered through the little scrap of forest behind the stables, wondering at the abundance of plant life and wildlife as deer scattered, startled when he came into sight so close to them, stepping silently through the woods as he was. A band of horses was there, as Lawdon had said they would be, though there were none with the coat patterns commonly associated with the calmer temperaments; no easy out for him, then.. 

 

Scanning over them, he mentally marked the chocolate palomino as his target, back to him and grazing, solely for the way his color was similar to Epona’s since he seemed to be feeling nostalgic today anyways. Feeling silly but only heeding Lawdon’s instructions, Time crept forward, keeping behind the trees, closer and closer until-

 

Well, until another of the herd facing towards him suddenly looked up and called out, sending the whole bunch whinnying and rearing about before scattering at full gallop. They cantered around in a tizzy for a while before slowly gathering back up together farther out in the open field, no cover nearby and with horses facing in a variety of directions.

 

He was starting to see how this could be problematic. 

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

In the end, it took him over an hour and a half to even get his rear on a horse’s back, and he still only managed to nab one by combined luck and circumstance. After chasing the group around the adjacent plains trying to corner individuals -any of them would do at this point, ye gods- and mount them without getting a kick to the chest, he finally opted to sink to the low level of bribery in the form of apples laying for free back at the stables. Lawdon had said nothing to him as Time stalked over and grabbed some of the fruit, but Time most definitely caught the amused twist of the stablemasters lips before he turned on his heel and determinedly headed back out, fully on a mission. 

 

Bribery didn’t work at all, as it turned out. The apples didn’t even serve as a distraction while the horses were eating them, the clever, twitchy buggers. They did however, prove to be useful in separating individual horses from the herd to be cornered against some rocks, as rolling them over the ground elicited quite the squealing fit as the horses danced away from the small, bouncing fruit. 

 

It still wasn’t perfect, but it proved to be enough. Time was just lunging out of the way of a kick from the blue roan he’d cornered against some rocks when a second horse pulled up short to avoid it, stopping neatly out of its rush right beside him as it drew its head back from the roan’s flying heels. 

 

Gift horses, and all that. 

 

Time twisted a hand in its mane and kicked off the ground with all the practice due from a man whose wife owns a ranch, settling firmly onto the broad back and gripping tight as the horse squealed and bucked. He rocked along with it, thankful that this horse had nothing on the more vicious yearlings the ranch sometimes had the misfortune of kicking out, for all that they tried to breed for temperament as well. 

 

His instinctive ‘Woah’s’ made no discernible difference, but the bucking eased into crow hops much sooner than he expected from experience, and those into a bold gallop, before something changed . The next time he patted its neck and instinctively soothed it with a soft hushing sound, he felt his magic ripple and loop outwards, and then the horse was calming beneath him. She still tossed her head every now and then, far from perfectly obedient, but by no means the wild, bucking mustang she had been a half minute ago. 

 

Time poked at his magic, but it felt no different than before to him- still slightly off kilter from his arrival, but recovering well, and apparently somehow spontaneously bonded to this mare. It had nothing on his connections to the Chain, nor the deep-rooted emotional bond he had with Epona that had, over time, expressed itself in his magic as well, but it was undeniably there. 

 

This world was odd . 

 

He tested out her paces, well pleased with her speed and sass, and tauntingly ran through the troublesome herd of horses for all the trouble they’d given him, hopping off his mare just long enough to pick up an apple and give it to her. She gave a joyous toss of her head and butted him solidly in the chest, and he couldn’t help but laugh and scuffle a hand through her forelock in response, mounting back up and heckling the blue roan a little more before trotting back to the stable. 

 

By now the mare had gotten more used to him, and she pranced up with an arched neck and danced happily in place before Lawdon, who’s incredulous blinks Time found immensely satisfying, even if he refused to show anything more than an easy, relaxed smile.

 

“That didn’t take you long at all! With a wild-tempered one, too, very impressive, Time! Link may have some competition yet,” the man laughed. 

 

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” Time lied, like a liar. “Had my eye on this lovely lass and wouldn’t accept any others. It was a piece of cake. A walk in the park, child’s play. I even had a bit of a picnic, too, and a nap for awhile there,” he said, and by the end Lawdon was smiling as well as Time gestured grandly with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. 

 

“And here I thought it had just taken you this long to get a horse,” Lawdon commented wryly, sharp eyes lingering over the grass stains and damp patches of sweat on Time’s clothes. “You know the drill then, now. Registry is- ah, thank you! I’ll get the tack, and then we’ll get you all set to go. Think of a name, in the meantime,” he called as he went around back. 

 

Time turned to survey his mare, and she drew her head up and looked back as if weighing him up as well. She was a dark bay, with a face that looked like it had dipped its muzzle in a pail of milk. Powerfully built, more so than any horses they had back at Lon Lon, not being ones for breeding draft horses. Not the fastest, but with endurance enough to serve, and with a build like that she’d likely be able to bowl over the smaller monsters without any damage to herself; if the other wild horses’ attempts to trample Time were any indication, the horses in this Hyrule had no shortage of bloodlust for running things over. 

 

He gathered his things, ensuring he was all ready to go as Lawdon returned with a serviceable saddle, and watched Time get her ready with no issue past having to tighten the girth once more when his mare proved she had a habit of puffing her belly on the first go. He gave her a friendly pat on the withers, and turned to Lawdon, who merely held his hand out for the rupees. 

 

The instant they crossed palms, Time’s magic flickered again against Lawdon’s: until now, the man’s magic had been standard and still, but at the moment it suddenly lit up with wild depth, a bridge across a great expanse, a deity’s presence leaning in close for a second and bopping Time on the forehead as he stood, transfixed and afraid. He jumped as another ripple wiggled through his magic, delving deeper than his original connection with the mare - Dipper, now-  before smoothing over and leaving no mark in his magic.

 

Dipper perked up, nostrils flaring, but the deity who had tied her to Time was gone already, and Lawdon utterly unruffled, though watching Time’s obvious alarm with curiosity. On his part, the hero was trying very hard to assess what the deity had done exactly. 

 

“Malanya give you a start there, Time? He’s harmless enough, so long as you take care of your horses,” Lawdon said, expression growing worried as Time continued to look tense and bothered. 

 

He forced himself to calm, feeling nothing awry with his magic past the superficial bond to Dipper, now. “Malanya?” He asked warily. 

 

Lawdon nodded, and picked up the registry. “God of horses, and if what Link’s said is true, quite the sense of humor, too. I’m glad- who wants a God who’s only serious all the time?” He gave the book a pat on the cover. “You’re all good to go, then.”

 

Time blinked, shaking his head. “Is that it? You don’t need my signature?” He asked, incredulous. “The magic was enough, then?” 

 

Lawdon’s eyebrows quirked curiously. “Magic? Hmm… Malanya takes care of his own, and the stables and registry all run through her. You don’t need to do anything, not unless you wish to be registered under family that isn't’ blood, or that you’ve married into, se-”

 

The stablemaster froze, having reopened the book to show Time, his finger frozen upon the page as he stared at it, the whites of his eyes showing for how wide they’d gone. The hylian leaned forward, curious, and found that Dipper had been added to an already existing account- Link’s, apparently. 

 

Well, then. Looks like Twilight’s not the only descendent he has floating around. He couldn’t keep the soft smile from his face, warm satisfaction glowing within his chest at the physical testament of his connection with this world’s hero. 

 

“You said your family originated here in Hyrule?” Lawdon asked weakly, still staring at the entry that had auto-filled on its own, proof of blood and magic shared. 

 

Time smiled broadly, unable to help himself as his chest puffed with pride.  Even if it was just their shared spirit shining through, this was the final piece of evidence that this Link was one of theirs, one of Time’s, another of his boys. If Time had been impatient to find him and meet him earlier, he was more eager now. 

 

“You’ll tell him then, that I’ll be waiting at the castle for him?” Time checked, keeping his excited bubble of laughter behind his teeth as Lawdon continued to be gob-smacked. 

 

“I- yes. Of course I will. He’ll- he’ll be there. I mean, that is if he shows up here in the first place, of course-” Lawdon stuttered, fumbling past what appeared to be crippling surprise at the fact that Time was related to their hero. 

 

“If he doesn’t, I’ll come back here and we’ll reassess.” Time mounted up, Dipper bouncing a little in place but holding steady under rein. “Thank you again, Lawdon. It’s been a pleasure,” he said, tipping his head with a good, honest smile. 

 

Lawdon raised a hand in a wave, and around the tent came the youngest of the brothers, also waving his goodbyes. Kass played him off, a rendition of Epona’s song slowly fading as Dipper moved him down the road, breaking into a gently rocking canter. 

 

The peace lasted all of twenty minutes. He came upon the promised bridge and found a traveler being accosted by a monster, one of the scrawny, weaker ones that had something of the look of Wind’s bokoblins to it. Dipper drew into a gallop eagerly as he guided her to come behind the bokoblin, stabbing down as they passed with devastating force, spinning her to the same halt she’d pulled when he first caught her, dragging the monster off balance and away from the traveler even as it died and began deteriorating as it cleared his blade. 

 

He dismounted cleanly, wiping off his sword as he approached the skittish, panting traveler, watching him with wide eyes. 

 

“You’re- you’re not Link!” She cried, “But thank you for your help! I was in a tight pinch there- these guys always come stand at the bridge, and I’m always left running past or beating them off. Much appreciated, sir!” She drew herself up tall, sending him a grin as she patted at her pockets.

 

“It wasn’t a problem,” he assured her, concerned that this was so frequent a danger. “Is there a different route, or someone who can-” he was immediately cut off as she let out a cheer and came up out of her pockets with a small handful of candied honey treats. “For your troubles,” she grinned, patting him on the shoulder and jogging off towards the stables again, seeming no worse off for the ordeal. 

 

Time was left with a handful of candies, feeling for a second as if he was 10 again and getting patted on the head for rounding up a bunch of cuccos. He tucked them away for Wind, huffing a short laugh. 

 

He and Dipper continued on, but the rest of the ride was uneventful, if not lovely- for all the ruin of the castle the land itself was thriving and lush with life, bugs and birds and foxes all puttering about as he cantered past. The bright feeling of life immediately dimmed as he drew close to the castle, nearly three hours later. The tall grass gave way to blackened blades and patches of ash-dark earth as he followed along the battered, broken spine of the battlements to the front gates, whereupon he could see the true ruin of CastleTown. 

 

It was all too familiar a scene- a bustling town devastated by a hero who couldn’t drag a victory out in time, one Time knew all too well from his own first adventure.  

 

This was never something he wanted to share in common with any of the others, this failure. He’d never wanted any of them to know what it was to not be enough, to face an enemy they could not defeat, even to the ends of their strengths and lives. 

 

The hero gives his life- shields her body, pays the price. 

 

Time’s heart throbbed painfully, wondering , hoping he was wrong.

 

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He could only abide to linger there for so long before riding out again, scoping for any monsters along the paths coming in that could give his boys trouble if they came as they should, considering that despite Lawdon’s warnings and everyone’s worries, there hadn’t been any monsters in the town at all, at least none he could see or sense. 

 

(And the instant he reached his aching magic out he’d felt the insidious darkness still drenched into the land and stone there, the half-hardened pools of blackened goo practically radiating ill intent. Even if there were no monsters now, surely they would be attracted here, and it wouldn’t be safe for the average traveler to linger amongst this darkness, lest they be tainted themselves.)

 

Along the edge of the plains past the lovely fountain, Time found something strange indeed: monsters, as he’d been expecting all along, but …

 

They were on horseback, of all things. He actually pulled Dipper up short as he spotted them, squinting his good eye and standing in the stirrups as if maybe he was just seeing some kind of strange centaur monster, this Hyrule’s version of a lynel, perhaps, but no. They were the same bokoblins he’d defeated on the bridge, just… on wild horses. 

 

As he watched them one turned and spotted him, calling out in an odd warbling shriek that had the lot of them -four in total-  turning their horses his way, all of them spotted and dotted, none of them very obedient to the monsters’ commands despite their likely docile nature, dancing sideways and tossing their heads as they came at him, monsters brandishing spears and was that a bow -

 

He kicked Dipper into a gallop, and was surprised despite himself how quickly she jumped into full speed, powerful hindquarters digging in and launching them forward and out of the way of the first few arrows.

  

Time decided to pay them back the same; he brought his own bow from his inventory in a sharp flare of magic, carefully looping Dipper as he watched carefully before snapping his arm up and firing as one of the monsters sighted him. Years of practice with a hampered sense of perspective came through for him, and the arrow dove deep into its dark-skinned chest, sending it slumping off of its horse. 

 

Another monster came screaming up from behind him and he turned and loosed another arrow into its throat, flipping the bow in his hand to redirect the weakened jab at his stomach well away. The golden skinned monster rode on past, choking on the -gods dammit, blackened- blood frothing from its mouth as it scrabbled at its throat.

 

Upon a smaller chestnut appaloosa came the third bokoblin from behind him, armed with a club and white-furred. Dipper drew to a halt and turned to face them, Time drawing his sword for the moment, internally grimacing; it was an ill-suited weapon for a battle on horseback, unwieldy and slow, not very maneuverable when wielded one handed. 

 

A second later an arrow tried to drive into his hip, pinging off his armor with bruising impact, even through the plate and chain mail. He curled to the side and would have been thrown from the saddle if he’d been a lesser horseman as Dipper suddenly reared, sending the chestnut before her skittering back with rolling eyes, one great feathered hoof ripping at the riding monster’s face before she came down almost upon the other horse’s back, crushing the monster beneath her weight as she nipped at the smaller chestnut’s neck viciously, sending it charging off, heedless of the monster trampled beneath the two sets of hooves as Dipper chased the other away with pinned ears. 

 

A glance behind showed it wasn’t disintegrating, but it certainly wasn’t getting up, either, so Time resolved to circle back to that one once he’d handled the two surviving ‘blins.

 

It took three shots to knock the other archer bokoblin from its horse, a common problem he faced with moving targets at that far a distance, unfortunately, and the reason he usually wasn’t the archer in Warriors’ strategies despite his excellent aim. At straightline targets, or still ones,he excelled, but not those turning on a horse. Down it went regardless though, arrow in its shoulder firmly hampering any further potshots at Time.

 

For now then, that left the last monster, golden furred with the arrow yet lodged in its throat, facing him down once more. Sighing, Time brought out his rarely used shield; while his armor generally sufficed instead, when it came to spear thrusts on horseback a direct hit would be able to pierce even his plate armor, or dent it enough to break bones beneath it, especially if the creature was infected.  

 

The golden bokoblin swung its spear overhead, building momentum as it charged him, and even though he brought his shield up in plenty of time to take the blow across its surface the absolutely devastating force of it nearly knocked him clear out of the saddle, braced though he was. As it stood he still nearly fell off, practically flattened on his back across Dipper’s rump, arm shrieking dangerously, spine sending stabbing warnings from where it had been wrenched and twisted over the saddle from the strike. 

 

Black blooded monsters were so fucking strong it hurt, gods damn . 

 

But broken arm or no, Time was alive yet, even if he was forced to draw the shield from his forearm and send it back into inventory lest the weight on the fractured bone send him into shock or unconsciousness. 

 

That’s what armor was for, was it not? The perfect back up for cases like this. 

 

Either way, he couldn’t risk another strike like that, Time acknowledged grimly as the golden bokoblin slowed its pretty pink pinto in a gradual turn for another run. 

 

None of that, now. 

 

Dipper raced after the other horse, catching up quick as she galloped to it. Seeing him coming up from behind, the golden monster let out a bloody, gurgling scream and sent its horse back into a gallop as well, but Dipper proved far faster, catching the other and drawing alongside it to knock her shoulder into the pinto’s, the bokoblin’s attempt to spear her running high at the impact. She’d come up with Time’s bad arm to the monster,  in far too close a quarters for its weapon to be of any use- or his, long as the Biggoron Sword was. 

 

The monster’s spear skidded across Time’s legs instead and he grabbed it with his good hand, tucking the shaft under his arm. The bokoblin choked furiously on its own blood as it glared at him with maddened, glowing eyes,, holding tight to to the weapon as it lunged for Time with its teeth and just like that - he twisted in the saddle, using the leverage of the spear across his own body to send the monster off the horse entirely, flipping over its hindquarters with a breathy screech and flailing hand, opening lines of blood across the pink pinto’s haunches as it fell. 

 

The spear was wrenched from his hands, his back screaming at the added torsion when it was already injured, but the damned bokoblin was off the horse at last, on grounds Time was much more suited to fight on. He brought Dipper to a stop and slid off of her, allowing himself a second to lean his forehead against her sweaty shoulder and listen to his back and arm shriek at him before unhappily drawing out a red potion. Removing his vambraces, he probed tenderly at his forearm, but the bones seemed to be aligned, yet, merely fractured despite the battering and subsequent jostling it had undergone. Deeming it good enough Time drank half of it down, grimacing as heat flushed over the muscles in his back, encasing his arm and tingling across his legs and hip where he’d taken bruising blows. 

 

He paused, gauging his fitness for battle, before recorking the bottle and putting the rest away- his arm was healed, as was his back, and his mobility was functional enough for this. There was little left of this fight except to finish off the dead and dying monsters anyways. 

 

Hefting his sword, Time stalked towards the golden bokoblin where it was staggering his way, hissing and frothing at the mouth with black blood, spear in hand, other arm clearly badly broken where a stray hoof must have caught it. Judging by the river of inky darkness spreading over its chest, the arrow in its neck had been jostled, and he doubted it had very long left before it bled out and died, infected blood powering it up or not, but he wasn’t in the habit of leaving monsters alive in his wake, and he wasn’t about to start now. 

 

In his element the battle was easy enough, infected or not- one on one, monsters of this level were rarely a true concern. A sidestep to avoid the golden bokoblin’s forward thrust and then his blade was slipping across the monster’s chest, dipping through its ribs and skin before a steady change in stance let him thrust up under its ribcage, severing the spine and several arteries before he stepped back to avoid the pooling, inky blood. The monster gurgled furiously at him, still swiping as it fought despite the mortal injuries, eyes glinting with maddened, animalistic rage. 

 

Turning away as it began to break down into dark vapor, he made his way back to Dipper and dispatched the other surviving bokoblin- it was a mess of broken bones, the eye in the intact half of its face vacant as it lay shuddering for breath in the grass, pale fur striped by the black blood holding it to life despite the grievous state of its body. One strike separated head from body, a mercy despite the atrocities the creatures had proven themselves capable of, time and time again. 

 

He took a moment to just stand there, dipping his head back to soak in the sun on his skin and breathe through his throbbing, tired body. Then a series of bird calls jarred him from the near meditative state he’d slipped into, and Time got back up on his faithful bay. There was a false start, his still-bruised hip aching sharply enough on the first try to have him settling back to the ground, but with a deep sigh  he gritted his teeth -good grief, he didn’t want to have to waste the other half of the potion for a bruise, of all things- and forced himself up. 

 

When he passed back around the golden bokoblin was gone, and the pink pinto had rejoined the herd of once-more free, wild horses, quick to dart away from him and Dipper when he tried to assess her injuries; nasty, but she was unhindered as she high-tailed it away. They seemed shallow enough, judging by how little blood trailed down her hindquarters- she’d be fine. 

 

Shifting uncomfortably in the saddle, Time resigned himself to head back to the gates and start to set up camp even as he continued to habitually scan the fields for any other sign of trouble as he loped along. It was approaching evening by now, the sun drawing low in the sky, warm tones just beginning to bleed into the blue. Just enough time to get a fire going and settle in to wait. 

 

Hopefully, the others would join him soon.

 

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Time situated himself by the gate for the night, leaving his armor on and double-guessing whether a fire would do more good to mark his presence or if it would only draw monsters to him- in the end, he opted to do so, if only so he could take them out himself. Better him, armed and prepared, than any other passerby or one of his weary fellow heroes.

 

And… It was cold, and he was sore. If Time longed for the small comfort of a warm fire, then he couldn’t be blamed. 

 

The skies’ burnt orange was still at the horizon, shading in bright ombre to a deep midnight blue, stars just poking their light-holes into the canvas of the sky, when the moon rose. 

 

It rose wrong . 

 

It rose red and flaming, a furious blazing orb that radiated bloodied menace. He stood there, unaware of when he’d risen to his feet, frozen as he stared in horror. His traitorous mind imprinted a face upon the circle, twisted into a mockery of a grin to match the threat that was weighing in the air with deadly intent. He could almost feel it now, catching ever thicker in his lungs as the hours ticked down-

 

No. No, that was real , this was real , Time realized as he staggered backwards, slamming into the stonework and sliding to the ground. He unfurled his magic, and there it was, permeating all around, that same sickly hostility that drenched the decimated town behind him. 

 

It wasn’t what his memories had offered back up, what they laid over reality like a mirage. This wasn’t Termina, and that wasn’t his moon, but it was real. Something was happening, and it was dark and malicious and dangerous. 

 

Dipper meandered closer, nosing at him as he continued to breath too quickly, eye distant as it stared at the bloody moon. 

 

What did it mean?

 

His pondering was interrupted by a sing-song “Helloo~” from not too far off, and he turned to find a mounted pair coming his way from the ruins of Castletown, giving the blackened pools of muck a wide berth. In the lead was an older man garbed with a voluptuous golden collared-shirt, a knotted head scarf pink as Legend’s hair to match his pants; the other was powerfully built, with a sledgehammer resting over his lap but a distinctly nonaggressive set to his shoulders, and Time relaxed from the defensive stance he’d jumped into when they surprised him.

 

Pay attention, he scolded himself, annoyed that he’d gotten so distracted by the moon that he’d lost track of his surroundings so badly. 

 

They seemed nervous too, glancing at the moon as well. “Heading out, too?” The man asked, walking his horse to a respectful distance. Time shifted his weight, but made no overt move for his weapon; they seemed harmless, and his own tension and discomfort was no reason to attack strangers. 

 

“No, I’m waiting for others.” He replied, and their faces immediately twisted in concern and confusion. 

 

“Waiting- you can’t just stay here, my good man! Once that moon hits midnight this whole area will be crawling with guardians and all sorts of other monsters!” 

 

“My group agreed to meet here if we were separated, though we didn’t realize the danger at the time,” He admitted, shifting uneasily himself as he glanced warily at the crimson moon. “I will not leave without them though, especially if they risk coming here regardless.” 

 

“Just leave a message for them- to stay would be madness! If they’ve any wits at all they’ll wait until it’s been cleared again. Look- come with us to Serenne Stable; it’s close enough, maybe they’ll go there instead to wait out the night.”

 

Time let the rationality of the offer wash over him, before considering the likelihood of the other heroes not advancing towards the monster-ridden castle if they had any suspicion Time was there in the middle of it, waiting for them. 

 

Not a chance , he acknowledged with weary resignation. 

 

“They would come regardless,” he repeated, dead inside at the stupidity of Hylia’s heroes of courage. Stupidity which he shared in equal parts, mind- in the same way they would continue towards the castle, so he was determined to remain as well, for the same reasons. Any of them would run headfirst into danger if there was even the slightest chance one of their own was facing it alone. It was stupid, and reckless, and gods, but he loved them all the more for that kind of bull-headed loyalty. 

 

“They would be fools to do so,” the other said incredulously. “As you would be to stay.”

 

“All true, and none of which you bear any responsibility for,” Time said, less uneasy at how abruptly they were being written off than he would be if he weren’t a hero on a goddess-issued quest. 

 

“Listen, you look like a fighter- I haven’t seen armor like yours around except on our Link. But let me tell you, even he struggles with those guardians, and he knows what he’s doing. You may be handy in a fight, you may know monsters, but what’s coming at midnight is more than you realize, and you’re sitting right in the middle of it with no way out.” The other looked at him, mouth set firmly, expression grim. “It’s not worth your pride, and your fellow companions would surely rather you leave and live than die waiting for them- waiting for nothing, maybe, if they’re even half the fools you make them out as.” 

 

Time looked back, his eye burning into the other man’s gently beseeching gaze. “Come with us,” the man requested intensely, but he’d already lost. 

 

Time could never risk it. He shook his head, taking a step back to rest a hand on Dipper’s shoulder. “I must stay,” he stated, though it brought him nothing but resignation and trepidation. 

 

“And we must go,” the man said face painted with sympathy. “I wish you luck then, and your fellows. May they be wiser than you, and may you be luckier than you look.” It was said sharply, one last attempt to scare him into retreating with them, but it rolled from Time like water from a duck. 

 

“Safe travels,” he bid, and they turned and galloped away, the second man lifting a hand in farewell as they went. 

 

Time was alone once more, and knew now what was cresting around him. 

 

It made him feel no better.

 

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The hours passed by with agonal slowness, that crimson face drawing higher into the sky, and the stomach-turning wrongness in the air building with the same inexorable crescendo, gnawing ever more intently on his attempts to tame his fear, to anchor himself in the present, to steel himself against the dizzying sick feeling that dark swell was inflicting upon his own magic. 

 

Supper was tucked back away after only a few bites, his appetite completely ruined- by the growing nausea or the rekindled trauma, it was hard to tell. Dipper stayed near to him, laying at his side after he removed her tack. He would put it back on nearer midnight; for the comfort her presence was giving him she deserved some of her own. That white-dipped head rested trustingly in his lap, and Time stroked the familiar coarse horse hair ceaselessly, fondling her ears and scratching beneath her jaw as he paced his breathing, sending his magic out in a probing pulse for his boys at timed intervals, the anxious worry for their sakes climbing as the moon did. 

 

He kept his power tucked in close otherwise, as if that would shield it from the malice in the air, as if it did anything to ward off the growing sense of illness within him, every part of him rebelling at the flood of dark magic.

 

Time only drew away from Dipper to stagger to the side and quietly empty his stomach, gritting his teeth at the fear that flooded his veins, the painful tightness banding his chest that he was rapidly losing the fight against without anyone to anchor him- he was good at being strong for others, but if there was one thing that he’d been reminded again and again ( bright chiming voice, familiar light flickering ever at his shoulder ) it was that he’d never been willing to be strong for his own sake. 

 

And here he was, trapped uselessly as some dark force built and built itself up in strength, as some disaster slowly crested over him like a tidal wave, and the others could very well be out there as well, in far less safe a place than this, Hyrule and Four and Legend maybe even crippled as he was by the nauseating magic in the air, helpless and in danger-

 

He barely had time to realize he’d ceased counting his breaths before the painful worry twisted his guts and he doubled over again, shaking from more than being sick. Let them be alright , he begged, even now not daring to make it a prayer, not trusting the Goddess with this.  

 

His hand gripped the stone with white-knuckled desperation, and he fumbled back to Dipper, head raised and looking at him with soulful, equine eyes under her braid-ridden forelock. Half collapsing, he draped himself over her neck, burying his face into her horsey smell, trying to stop shaking, to stop being afraid, to be useful and not need a rewind, for once. 

 

He sent out his magic again, his normally pristine control slipping in his growing panic, nearly as shaky as he was as it rippled out like echolocation, searching for the familiar feel of the hero’s spirit, much farther reaching than the soulbonds in their minds. 

 

Something pinged, and his aching, racing heart nearly stopped. He narrowed his focus, trying to get a better read; the flavor was unfamiliar, though, even though it was distinctly resonating with his own magic. 

 

Link, approaching from the northwest. 

 

Instantly, his world recentered around this new hero, and the fear suddenly dipped below a neatly unfurling list in his mind; still present, still an ache in his chest, but no longer the only thing he could think of as he was left waiting, alone. 

 

He wasn’t alone now, and that made all the difference. Time’s, eye closed as he tracked the other hero’s progress- on foot, their magic harried and weary the same way his was under the moon’s onslaught. He uncurled from Dipper’s back, prompting the mare to her feet and prepping her once more, resettling his own armor on his person and strapping his sword into place. 

 

Time added some sticks to the fire, prompting it back to brightness where he’d let it dwindle before in his distraction. In his mind a connection sparked to life - the smell of fresh-baked cookies, warm and soft in the mouth and tasting of home - and he let his magic snap back into place against his skin, forcing his breath to be deep and easy, stilling the shake in his hands as he read the emotions fluttering along the bond, noting how they mirrored his own. 

 

He focused on Link, the despair and worry and urgency flooding the other, and pushed it from himself; Time could do this. Link needed him to be calm, needed a stanchion of strength, needed a port in the storm from whatever was building in the night’s magic, and Time would be that for him, gods dammit . 

 

The other came into view, sprinting in the discoordinated manner of those too exhausted to run but doing it anyway, nearly staggering to a walk when he spotted Time’s fire, the wariness in every line of his weary body only amping up as Time stepped from the shadows. He noted with no small concern that Link hadn’t seen him despite Time making no attempt to hide, flinching terribly as the tall, armor-clad hylian drew into view. 

 

It didn’t bode well of Link’s state of well-being, that the other’s attention was so fractured; if Time had been one of the monsters he’d been warned about, what could have happened -

 

He shook off the thought before it could trap him, focusing instead on the other hylian, unimpressed and worried by what he found. 

 

This hero was young, and scarred in ways that squeezed at Time’s heart; great lashing burns across his face and neck, hinting that they extended much farther. His long, golden hair was pulled back in a braid, too-sharp cheekbones pale even in the reddish cast of the moon. Eyes so blue they almost glowed darted to him the instant he was in view, nearly feverish in their darting franticness, hands jerking up abruptly with a weapon in hand. His breath was coming too heavy, obviously pushed past his limits even as the determined set to his mouth when Time stepped out proved he wouldn’t let that stop him. 

 

Time liked him immediately. Time was also highly, extremely concerned, and not about to let the other continue on in such a state. First though, he needed to be calm, and gentle, and welcoming- this newest hero looked fit to shake out of his skin with nervous energy, an air of desperation and fear carried strongly in every trembling line of his body, every anxious flick of his ear at any little sound, the way those eyes darted at every little movement, from bobbing grass to Time gently laying his sword down, cursing the fact that he’d been holding it in the first place. 

 

He couldn’t afford to be so thoughtless, not if he wanted to keep him and Link safe in whatever mess was to come. Luckily, he had a bit of a cheat on his side, and he used it shamelessly, sending Link a soft smile as he expertly ran warm comfort down the line between their minds, a lulling sense of comfort, the familiarity and resonance between their souls providing the gate for him to gently pile soft, soothing emotions on the other’s overwrought mind.      

 

It was easy, and familiar, something often done for his boys when they were relaxing, or in need of comfort but too proud or ashamed to ask for it. It was subtle, and silent, and devastatingly effective, and this hero was no different than the others. 

 

Link dropped his sword, startling into a straight stance as he stared at Time as if transfixed, his heaving chest the only thing keeping him from total, wide-eyed stillness. In his mind, the younger hylian’s racing mind momentarily stilled in shock, restarting again but slowing at the edges Time could reach, steadying where the focus was on his extended comfort and not whatever had put Link in his condition in the first place. He almost felt the other wiggle his end of the bond testingly, all butterfly alight on a hand-fletching an arrow, straight and true- honey dripping free from a comb.

 

He internally crooned, and the emotion passed between them as a tickling vibration, soothing as a kitten’s purr. Good , he thought with some satisfaction, watching with a pang of sadness as the small, slender figure swayed, suddenly blinking slow and somnolent, hit hard by Time’s heavy-handed effect. 

 

The younger hylian twitched back to himself, forcefully dragging his mind and magic from the well of serenity Time had wound around him. Link stepped forward to shake his hand, only the thinnest thread of nervousness showing in lines around his eyes, and Time could already feel and see that thrumming, unhealthy energy building back up to its former fury, the respite short and insufficient.

 

This time though, it was underlaid with a curious interest in Time, the younger hero’s mind hovering close even now, affectionate and shyly inquisitive. Completely subconscious, but all the more endearing for the honesty therein implied. 

 

“Hello, I’m Link! The Chain’s told me about you,“ the younger hylian said in a pleasant voice, sending Time a hopeful smile, chest still heaving as he caught his breath. “But you can call me Wild, the rest already do.” 

 

And at that the knot in Time’s chest loosened somewhat- the others were safe, then, this world’s hero already having done his work well. Or at least, some of them were safe, Time amended mentally, once more noting the urgency gripping Wild, keeping him from letting Time help in even the smallest way.

 

He waited, hand still outstretched for Time to shake. 

 

The older hero stepped closer to the other, eye running over his exhausted form with an internal frown, even as he kept the tilt of his lips friendly. Wild was still out-of-breath from his run, wrist and hand far too thin where they waited for him to accept them, shaking finely as he grasped it gently, all too aware of the delicate bones too close under the surface. 

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Wild,” he said, still soaking in the other’s presence, mind, soul and sight. He didn’t release Wild’s hand yet, instead shifting his grip until he was holding it curled within his own, too cold and shaking still. “My name is Time. The others are safe?” He asked, letting his voice thrum pleasantly in his chest, soothing and deep.

 

Wild nodded, but he still seemed nearly mesmerized by Time’s presence, or perhaps dazed from his overexertion as he swayed slightly, steadied by the older hero’s grasp on his hand. Staring distantly into his eyes, the younger hylian suddenly winked, the action purely thoughtless. From his mind there wasn’t even a hint of clever deviousness, or mischievousness, only awe and curiosity, Wild apparently completely taken in by him. 

 

That was fine; Time was rather taken by him as well, and that familiar fondness was fully welcomed and embraced as he smiled back warmly, opening both eyes to properly wink back, relishing in Wild’s shocked face and returned delight tickling down the soulbond. 

 

It was only then that the younger hero snapped back to himself properly, and he visibly gathered himself back together, gaze flicking around and up to the sky before he drew himself up the same way Warriors did when giving a report. “You were each dropped at different shrines; I have the only tech that can jump to them, so I’ve been picking you up and taking you all back to Kakariko Village,” Wild supplied smoothly, his restless shifting drawing Time back to their clasped hands. 

 

He hummed, finally letting go of Wild’s hand and stepping back, aware of how close they were standing. Wild leaned after him subconsciously before his eyes snapped to Time’s suddenly from where they’d been wandering the landscape, bright azure on ice blue, voice drenched in sincerity. “I’m glad you’re here- I can take you with me to the next one, then drop you off at Kakariko together,” he said with a certain nod that immediately gave way to uncertainty as he turned his face aside, eyebrows creased in worry. His voice was soft, directed towards himself as he murmured, “I’m pretty sure that saves a trip, in the end- that has to be worth it.”

 

Time cocked his head at that, frowning minutely at Wild’s erratic behavior, the worn-thin feel of his magic, the unsteadiness of his stance as they stood together. Something was wrong, and Wild wasn’t saying what it was- the others wouldn’t have left him alone, not in this shape, not when he was one of them and clearly suffering in this endeavor on their behalf. 

 

Time wasn’t going to allow it, and neither would any of the others, though some hadn’t so sharp of eyes as him or Sky in these matters. 

 

Not that they’d need to, Time thought grimly. Wild was visibly unwell and exhausted, his mind bordering on distraught and his magic in ragged turmoil. Between all of those, any one of the Chain would have realized something was off the minute they laid eyes on him. 

 

Still, he kept his face calm, kept his presence soothing along their connected souls. “Why didn’t any of them come with you? To pick everyone up? Why take them one by one to Kakariko?” he asked gently, cocking his head. 

 

Wild froze like a hare spotted by a hawk despite the neutral questions, waiting a moment too long to give an anxious laugh, eyes darting away from Time’s gaze too fast. “This was a side-stop, to make sure no one was in Castletown. The blood moons in the past have revived all monsters killed, and this area especially was swarming with guardians. We thought they were done with, so I didn’t want anyone to be caught off guard.  Still, that means we have to hurry,” he said with no little emphasis, if the speed of his words hadn’t already given hint to the antsy jitter practically vibrating through his body. “You’re the only one here and we need to get to the shrine at the peninsula before the moon has it crawling with monsters.”

 

Of course there would be a timeline strictly enforced by that accursed celestial body; what is his life if not repetitive and forever jumping back to past events he’d rather leave buried.  

 

“Always the moon, isn’t it,” Time said bitterly, scowling at the sky with a blazing eye. He exhaled through his nose, tearing himself away before the memories could creep up on him again. “I was told about it. How many of our group do you have? Could any of them still make their way here after the moon hits its peak?” He asked, toeing the line between firm and gentle, painfully aware of the delicate, jittery state Wild was in but needing to know. 

 

Wild shifted his weight back and forth unconsciously, biting his lip. “All that’s left to fetch is Twilight, Legend, and Warriors, if Four told me truly. The only one who could reasonably end up here would be coming from the shrine in the hillside, but it’s far up the cliff with no way down but to climb or glide,” Wild said, voice thoughtful. Then he shook his head. “They’d already be here if they came straight from the shrine. There’s a stable nearby though, and as soon as anyone caught sight of the moon they’d warn them from coming.” 

 

Serenne Stable, Time assumed. The same one the men were speaking of, and he decided to ignore the embarrassment at the fact he could have reunited with one of his boys all the sooner if he’d listened to them after all. Wild paused a moment, hands flicking anxiously. “You can’t stay here Time, it’s too dangerous,” he said urgently, ears flicking frenetically.

 

He took in the other’s fear, conflicted- he wanted to give in, to help abate the other’s worry, but-

 

But Wild himself had admitted there was still a chance of one of them showing up here if he left with him, and being caught at midnight alone. He straightened his stance, tilting his head. “It cannot be both too dangerous for me to stay and safe enough to risk one of them coming here despite being warned against it,” he chastised mildly. “We always meet at the castle; with us all scattered it's where we would all end up with any choice in the matter.” He pointed this out with an even tone, rational. 

 

Wild’s expression tightened subtly, agitation trembling along his frame as his fidgeting worsened. But he tried again, stubborn. “They’d meet Bolson on the road here, if they decided to rendezvous like normal- he’s heading to those stables,” he argued, words coming quickly, eyes darting around nervously as he avoided Time’s increasingly concerned stare as the other hero grew visibly more anxious. “All of this assuming, of course, that they aren’t still stuck up the wall in the shrine. Everyone else is already at Kakariko or far enough away that there’s no way they’d make it before we got to them.” Wild said, shoulders bunched tight, ears pinned tight to his skull. 

 

The trembling hero took a shaky breath, clearly trying to center himself, continuing on with a little more reserve. “Please, trust me - once the blood moon hits it will be very easy to tell it’s not a safe place to be. You can avoid guardians if you know what you’re doing, they’re bright enough they stand out at night even at a distance, but when you’re in the middle of them, many of them-” Wild cut himself off, panic lacing his voice as he shivered. “I’ve always shrine-jumped away,” he said quietly, still defiant of Time’s denial. “And you don’t have that option.” 

 

Having said it out loud, Wild seemed to come to a realization, voice firming with resolve. “You can’t stay here; you’d only be killed. One hit from a guardian’s beam is crippling, if not completely lethal. Their range is insane and most of them will follow after you, moving fast,” the young hero listed off, grim facts that painted a terrible picture when paired with the cruel burns along his face. 

 

Wild’s voice was resolute. “We need to go, Time. The other Links at the farther shrines are in more danger, and we can use our time most effectively by heading to them,” he explained, and Time didn’t have a map, but well- 

 

He trusted Wild to know his own Hyrule, to know where is more dangerous, and he agreed. Even if one of them ended up stuck in a hole in a wall, that was at least safe according to Wild, and he knew from experience that the stables weren’t half bad either. The bare information he’d been given wasn’t enough, wasn’t nearly as much as he wanted, as much as he needed to be certain, but- 

 

Wild was clearly antsy, and Time could feel the urgency himself as the magic continued to flood the night, insidious and wretched.There wasn’t time for more , which meant this was time for trust, instead.

 

It had always been so terribly, dangerously easy to trust his boys.

 

“You’re right,” Time agreed, chest twinging at the absolute surprise on Wild’s face- he knows he strikes a domineering figure, and for the other to show such shock at his listening to and being convinced by Wild’s very valid arguments hinted at underlying issues with authority figures in the past and their receptivity to feedback. 

 

Something to note for the future, in case it was an issue that cropped up again- he couldn’t take away the trauma that haunted his boys’ footsteps with far too much frequency and severity, but he could do his best to override them with better memories instead, healthier approaches instead of the irrational distrust and paranoia their adventures had ingrained in all of them. The way Wild gazed at him with disbelieving, joyous eyes, gratitude practically radiating off of him was as painful as it was gladdening, Time turning to retrieve the rest of his gear to hide the sad turn of his mouth. 

 

He would be better than whoever had sowed such expectations before him.  

 

To Time’s surprise though, instead of immediately heading off Wild promptly knelt down and started taking out supplies of his own- interesting, that wherever they were going required additional gear to the point of requiring precious time to don it. As he drew out clothes, Wild spared a hand to gesture to the northeast sky, where a thunderhead was visible in the distance only as the continuous lightning lit it against the night sky. As he did, he informed Time of where they were going, and the dangers that awaited. 

 

Apparently, lighting was just as common an issue here as Time had feared upon his own rather electric arrival. Needless to say, he gladly took up Wild’s advice to remove his armor and the offered shock-resistant earrings and weapons. The realization that his sword would also pose a risk sent a bolt of trepidation for whichever of his boys had landed there- all of them preferred the sword as their primary weapon, with any alternative being far weaker or less flexible in a fight. If they were surrounded by monsters, having their sword be essentially useless would be a crippling handicap. 

 

They were good fighters, adaptable, clever, strong, but they weren’t undefeatable. If the odds were long enough, they possessed no immunity to death or injury, only so many tricks up their sleeves. 

 

Time could only hope that the lightning wouldn’t prove to be the last straw that took out one of his own before they could provide help. 

 

Dipper wouldn’t go with them, sadly -he’d grown terribly fond of her already, as is the nature of animals to win a heart in an embarrassingly short time- but at least Wild assured Time she’d be safe, and return to the stables just fine on her own despite the monsters. They were wrapping up when he noticed Wild tucking the last of the gear into his bag, instead of the device he’d been pulling his inventory from before. 

 

“You’re not leaving them in the tablet?”  He asked, curious of what the significance of the difference was; storage space? Item type incompatibility? Only to realize seconds later as Wild squirmed uncomfortably that he’d accidentally stumbled on a tender subject. 

 

As if the words were being dragged from his mouth, Wild begrudgingly admitted, “The slate has been… misbehaving, somewhat. At the last shrine I didn’t have access to it - unexpectedly !- so me and Hyrule agreed it would be best to prepare for it to happen again, just in case,” he said quickly, light-hearted tone doing little to hide the anxious twist of his lips, the way his brows furrowed in fear and worry as he spoke. 

 

“It will get us there alright?” Time checked warily, letting some of his skepticism leak into his tone, staring hard enough at Wild to discourage any half-truths. 

 

Wild gave a false start before settling on a dismissive, “Let’s not worry about that unless we have to,” a non-answer that only had Time feeling more concerned. Not only for him and the success of their upcoming use of the slate, but for whatever fault had Wild so afraid himself, wondering if it had in any way contributed to the rough, worn appearance of the other. 

 

They finished changing into the location-appropriate gear to the increasing feel of dark magic in the air, every breath rolling sickly in Time’s stomach as the wrongness of it abraded his own magic, an insult to health and wellness. He worriedly checked Wild, already in bad condition and of dubious sensitivity to atmospheric magic, but the other hero was fortunately less affected, it would seem. He still looked ill, worryingly thin and shaky, but he was either oblivious or had some degree of immunity to it as a native inhabitant of this world; Wild could very well have grown accustomed to the sensation, even if the thought of anyone enduring this often enough to get used to it did make Time want to bury his head in his hands. 

 

Wild edged closer, their shoulders nearly brushing as he guided the older to rest a hand on his arm. “You ready?” he asked Time, looking up to him as he held the slate before them, a glowing map shining upon its front.  At the older hero’s short nod the younger clenched his jaw, trepidation fluttering across the bond for a second. “Alright,” he said uncertainly, as if trying to convince himself it would be, before tapping. 

 

Nothing happened- no sounds, no building sensations, nothing. 

 

Time cocked his head, about to ask, when the slate suddenly crackled, and sharp slices of light tore through the air around them. His grip on Wild’s arm tightened, and he dragged the smaller hero against his side, wary of the angry nature of the magic sparking out from the slate, the chaotic taste of it disconcerting. The lights darted at them, dug into them like restraints as they bound them, and it was terrible ; too loud and too bright and painful even with the shock-proof gear. The familiar sensation of his body turning against him, paralyzed by electricity, was one he’d hoped not to feel again, and certainly not so soon. 

 

Certainly not when there was another weakened hero in his arms, suffering it as well.  

 

Beside him panic crested within Wild’s mind like a heavy wave, and it was only then that Time realized this was what the smaller hero had feared- the slate was malfunctioning, and they were right in the middle of the fraying magic. He curled around the smaller hylian, wondered for a moment if Nayru’s protection would help or make things worse as the two magics clashed-

 

The scattered power around them stopped, as suddenly as it had started. A few lingering jets of electricity skittered across their clothes, and Wild slumped in his grip as their muscles finally loosened from the tight grip of electrocution. Time’s head snapped down immediately, thoughts of stopped hearts racing through his mind before the younger hero turned his face wearily into Time’s chest, and he gladly gripped Wild tighter, comforting the both of them as they trembled in the aftershock of the slate’s error. 

 

Wild’s mind twisted oddly along his, and in Time’s grip all of his muscles jumped in a twitch, one hand flying to support the younger hylian’s head as it drooped back. Those excruciatingly saturated eyes wandered around indistinctly, face set in vague panic, that kicked into clouded awareness. His breath sped up, the trembling of his body having at some point switched from electric aftermath to what Time recognized as an oncoming panic attack. 

 

Wild gave a low series of sobbing breaths and Time immediately cradled him closer with a gentle hush, worried over how much worse the failed transport had affected Wild, from the physical blow to the obvious mental one as the other continued to spiral into a scattered panic in his arms. 

 

He pushed free from Time, stumbling nearly to falling over to grab the slate, and before Time could think he was reaching out and gripping Wild’s wrist, heart racing at the thought of the other trying again when he was still reeling, still falling apart from the first try. 

 

Startled blue eyes met his, white rimmed and dilated as Wild’s weight leaned heavy against his grip before they both straightened, the other likely too dizzy to keep bending over without falling.

“Don’t, Wild.” He ordered tensely, looking at the slate lying innocuously on the ground as he steadied the wavering hylian beside him. “Whatever that was-”

 

Wild’s ears flickered forward in surprise and right back in dismay, and he gave a weak tug. “We need it, Time. It’s glitched before, but it still worked, in the end,” he said, but there was a distinct uncertain dread in his voice even so. 

 

Wild didn’t believe what he was saying, but he did believe it was necessary to move forward. 

 

More importantly - “It’s done this to you already?” he said with deadly calm, watching Wild intently for any subtle queues.   

 

He need not have- the confirmation was blatant in Wild’s discomfited jolt and stammering attempt to sidestep the question. “It- I” he stuttered, and this time when he tried to pull his hand free Time released his hold, only to immediately have to catch Wild’s elbows as the other nearly fell over backwards; he’d been more dependent on the taller hero’s support than even Time had realized, it seemed.  And the fact that Wild could barely stand on his own cemented the decision Time had been about to make anyways. 

 

“Are you alright?” He immediately checked, staying close as Wild seemed to fight off a faint before him, trembling and bone white as his eyes wandered in and out of focus under Time’s gaze. An attempt at a nod was short-lived as Wild was forced to close his eyes, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead, Time sure for a second that the other was going to pass out.

 

But Wild remained standing, determinedly trying to straighten and continue on, and Time? Time could not, would not let him continue, refused to allow Wild to harm himself this way, even for the others’ sake. 

 

In his head, he balanced the definite danger of the faltering form before him over the uncertain fates of the remaining three Links, and made his decision.  

 

Patience all used up, Time laid out the facts plainly for the other. “You’re shaking, Wild, worse than before, and you’ve lost what little color you had to start. Does the slate always do this?” Time asked directly, trying to pierce the daze that seemed to have taken over Wild. 

 

Wild’s gaze wandered over the grass, some focus returning as he blinked, swiping an arm over his forehead. When he answered, his voice was slow, the pauses between the words ever so slightly too long, too irregular. “Not usually, no, but something about the shrines you all arrived at is off.” The distinctly ill hylian made an attempt to straighten up and blatantly lied right to Time’s face in the next breath. “I’m fine , it just takes longer to shake off the effects than usual.” 

 

Time stared at him, waiting for him to realize how weak an excuse that was, and Wild crumpled under the disappointed disbelief. To his credit, he still gave one last try, though, desperate and determined to be let free to save the others, or die trying. 

 

Looking at him, Time knew which was inevitable, likely at the cost of the other. 

 

“Look,” Wild said, his voice low and frantic as he gestured at the blood-red moon above them.  “We don’t have time to figure something else out,” he pointed out, leaning down to grab the slate. Time kept a grip on him , even though it was so, so tempting to let Wild fall on his face in the attempt and be forced to face exactly how bad off he was. The other hero was leaning hard into him, terribly unsteady as he straightened up, pointedly not acknowledging Time as he sent him a warning, incredulous look. 

 

Wild couldn’t even stand on his own, and he was still insisting they try again, that they go off where only monsters awaited.

 

 May he be saved from the incorrigible spirit of the self-sacrificing heroes of courage .

 

The screen was no longer a map, but an odd little spinning fish, unresponsive to any of Wild’s fidgeting, nor to the smack he gave the stone. Time watched for a moment, but it was clear it wasn’t going to work, and even if it had this was where he was ending this ridiculous endeavor. “Wild,” he said, keeping his voice gentle as he carefully drew the hero’s attention to him. “I know these heroes- all of them are skilled fighters and intelligent tacticians. They aren’t going to pick fights they know they can’t win- we all know when to retreat to try again with better odds. We have time to get to them- there’s no need to take this risk.” He shifted, adjusting his grip on the other, lips setting into a grim frown as Wild only leaned harder into his support. 

 

“Even if that does work, I don’t like the thought of you being caught in a fight in the state you’re in, or worse.”“You don’t look well,” he said, letting the beseeching dismay that was bubbling within him show in his voice, “And if there’s any chance using that stone will make it worse, knowing there’s a fight waiting… that cannot be the best option, surely.” He nudged more warm comfort along the soulbond, concern spiking as Wild’s mind drifted along it, unresponsive and inert compared to the earlier sparkling curiosity. 

 

Wild shook his head in slow, clumsy jerks. “Too much has been going wrong,” he insisted, blinking too fast. “Anything could have happened to them, could still happen, we can’t leave it up to chance.” 

 

And Time couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t listen to this poor, overburdened youth try to convince himself, to convince Time that he had to keep going even as everything about him screamed that he shouldn’t and desperately didn’t want to. Wild was afraid, terribly afraid, and while Time could admire facing that kind of fear this was not the time or the place, not when that panic was wholly self-preservative. He brought a gentle hand to carefully turn Wild to face him, voice soft and rumbling as he gently told him, “Wild, we do not have to use the slate, especially if it’s not working the way it’s supposed to be.”The other’s cheek was frightfully cold under his palm, and he swallowed back the frustration and fear, focusing on the promise. “We do not have to take that risk,” he swore, taking upon himself any repercussions of the decision, shouldering the responsibility for abandoning the rest of the Chain. 

 

For now , he reminded himself. Not forever. For all Wild’s insistence, this was not the only way, merely the best. They would have other options, other opportunities. 

 

Wild stared at him with hesitant hope, the desire to trust Time painfully clear, warring with his own belief that this was what was necessary and therefore the only option, his own health be damned. “But, what if they need us now ? The slate’s acting off, but it won’t harm…” His tremulous voice trailed off, eyes unfocusing again as Time wondered -for the umpteenth time that night- if Wild was going to pass out. He grit his teeth against the injustice of it all, the useless rage railing within him at the suffering of this young hero. 

 

But Wild rallied once more, blinking at him as Time laid out a new plan, taking advantage of the lingering confusion from Wild’s near swoon. “We’ll take my horse- the peninsula doesn’t look too terribly far off.” And Wild grimaced there, but he ignored it; regardless of the actual distance, they were not using that slate again. “We can recoup once we see what’s awaiting us there- for now we should get clear of here,” he said grimly, firmly ignoring the oily slide of his own stomach as the air grew ever more corrosive and nauseating around him. 

 

The magic was thick, having grown progressively more pervasive until it thrummed around them with an alien heartbeat that vibrated through Time’s magic and muscle, burrowing invasively through his being in a way he couldn’t ignore, couldn’t shield from. It felt like infection, like the slow crawl of decay, and he was the sun-baked carcass being steadily consumed, the dark tendrils of rotting magic slowly invading his own in a manner that was nauseating.

 

Wild, at least, didn’t seem to be suffering the same, though he suffered nonetheless. 

 

Wild paused, trembling. “It’s… going to be at least 6 hours- it’s not close, that storm is just huge,” he said, his tone making it all too obvious that he didn’t want to change Time’s mind, but he couldn’t leave the facts unspoken.

 

Time remained silent, unflinching, and Wild swallowed. “You’re sure?,” he asked, voice small, tentatively hopeful, but so painfully afraid to believe Time wouldn’t ask him to use the slate after all. “One shrine is on an island…”

 

Time smiled at him, soft and sad and resolute. “I’m sure,” he stated firmly, snugging Wild into a quick hug. “For this shrine we’ll ride. At the very least we can lessen the times you have to-”

 

A musical ping, like a glass being rung with a spoon. Movement caught his eye, the map reappearing on the slate’s screen. Time blinked down at it as the icon lit up and barely had a moment to flinch and think ‘ NO-! ’ before he and Wild were both zapped, forced apart from one another as their bodies twitched at the shock. There was a sudden, furious storm of light once more, Time curling and twitching within the staticky fuzz, Wild’s scream barely audible over the screeching of lightning through air. He tried to reach out, but his fingers cast through empty space, a boom of expanding air as the magic all snaked out in one massive flare of light and heat and then nothing . 

 

Ringing silence, and when he could finally see past the light-spots burned into his eye there was no one, Wild and the slate completely vanished, gone without a trace except for the last, flickering sparks that vanished all too soon as well. Time was left alone and afraid, heart in his throat as he turned inward, practically clutching the now silent connection between his soul and Wild’s as it flickered and darkened, drawing thin-

 

No, no, NO!

 

He railed against the immoveable boundary of space, hurling himself desperately through the bond as if by will alone he could cast his thoughts, his mind, his magic, anything to join Wild’s side once more. Wild was dying, he was dying and alone and there was nothing Time could do except feel it happen from a distance, too far to even send comfort in his last moments. He felt the glimmering starlight feeling begin to dim and slow, and around him dark magic swirled and grew, a dangerous portent of the midnight event Wild had pushed himself so far to beat.

 

Over his head the faceless blood moon mocked him, and within him Wild’s soul was suddenly-

 

It was-

 

Gone . 

 

Time threw back his head and s c r e a m e d.

Notes:

Lawdon: Wow good job you caught a horse
Time, rumpled and missing a shoe: What, like it’s hard?

Malon, with her horses: This is Thunder, Xephos, Forgemaster, and Indomitable
Time, with his horses: This is Marshmallow, Snuffles, Doodlebop, and Toadstool

Chain: Time is such a badass, man’s unflappable
Malon & Navi: Link is such a dumbass, man’s hopeless

Time, toddling his way to the Castle: We’re all gonna be safe, and we’re all gonna have a good time
*blood moon rises*
Time: what the jesus christ was that

*Failed in their hero journey at least once, to the detriment of Hyrule and its people*
*Died while trying to beat their respective Ganon*
*Moon trauma*
Wild: Same hat!
Time, tearing up: what does that MEAN are you OKAY I KNOW I’M NOT

I feel like this one is NOT very exciting for the entire first half, but uh, that’s what happens when not much goes wrong, for once, for a little bit. Congratulations Time, you’ve the best luck out of all of them so far, when you ah, when you average it out! You can see why Time (and Twi) were at the back end of Wild’s list, huh? Not a whole lot of danger where they landed unless you go hunting for it, or hmm… or a blood moon starts bringing things back to life. It’s okay though, I feel it picked up enough there at the end~

Pardon me while I make Time an exhausted, socially inept adult who’s primary motivation for living a non-lazy life are his family… and that’s it. Hylia dragged his ass through that portal the first time, and thereafter it’s only his undying love for the boys that’s keeping him from living the good life back at Lon Lon Ranch. Well, that and said Goddess. I love the concept that if left on his own Time would literally just laze away in the countryside now that he has the freedom to do so, content to watch the sunset with his wife after a good day’s work on their little ranch.

Time’s one of the more magic-savvy Links, but he’s gonna be less rocked than Rulie and Leg and heck, even Four because he doesn’t really use his except for spells, lol. Like, the others all at least passively also sense it, but Time tends to keep his magic clamped close to him unless he’s specifically feeling something out. He can do it, and very well, but his normal setting is set to -Personal Bubble- and it stays well within it except when he’s using it to check in on the lads.

The castle is a lot less dangerous than the common folk think it still is, but Link and Zelda aren’t gonna say otherwise until it's been properly purified and cleared by Bolson and crew for any wandering snoopers. So yeah, it’s not that bad compared to what Lawdon warned him it would be, phew.

Also, this is your fair warning that come October the update schedule on Don’t Go Into the Light will be changed -DON’T PANIC- as in very much slower, probably only one or two that month. It’s not a hiatus, but I do want to do a bastardized version of Whumptober, so while I’ll still be working on Don’t Go it certainly will not be making the 10 or so day update schedule I’ve been holding to so far (or maybe I’ll go into a mad writing frenzy and it will, who can say). But Sicktember has been an absolute PLEASURE with the daily updates -and no I don’t care if the authors only posted daily for the first week, it was lovely and I’m so happy and honestly kudos in the fic sense and RL congratulatory sense for going hard at ALL- so I wanted to give that back in the best way I know how, by doing my best to provide daily updates for my own fav thing- WHUMP

And it will not be the ~official~ whumptober prompts, because I looked at them and was personally unimpressed and uninspired, so I’m going off the rails and doing what I want, in total cat fashion. (I’ve seen Febuwhump and I’m fascinated, but could not stand to wait that long, so here we are~). So yeah, Wars’ chapter is likely going to be split, and I expect chapter 7 will still make it out on time or soon thereafter, but everything through October is in the air as I turn most of my attention to other works. After October, we shall resume the normal scheduling, to the best of my abilities as usual, heheh.

And thank you to Imsotiredofwormart, I doubled down on your cookie idea for Wild’s side of the soulbond with Time, and I love it~

Chapter 7: Gotta Be Sneaky

Summary:

Warriors doesn’t mean to be rude, but… 1 star out of 10, with his current experience, does not recommend whatever the hell all this is.

And it’s not really important but it’s vital to me that you know- the chapter title is from Charlie the Unicorn and must be said in a /very/ specific tone of voice to align with how I hear it in my head every single time I see it

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Electrocution, Seizures, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Time Until Wild Contact: 1 Day, 8 hours
Chapter spans: 1 Day, 8.25 hours
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 7, but only the very beginning of it

Wars walked through the portal and was immediately shocked so violently that the twitch of his muscles sent him flying through the air to land shoulder first into a pile of sand. 

 

What the hell . 

 

He raised his head just enough to spit out sand, sending the ground beneath him a withering glare as he registered the rain pouring down from above, his back already soaking in the cold water. His ears flicked at the sound of rumbling and crackling lightning, and he turned to it just in time to see an odd stone pyramid light up as electricity poured along its surface before fading away again, illuminating the empty space within it before everything went dark once more. 

 

The Captain rose to a low crouch in one swift lunge, head twisting about as he searched around and confirmed what else he’d seen in the light of the construct- the others were gone . No sign of them, though in the murky darkness of sleeting rain and overshadowing storm he couldn’t see much. He poked at the mental bonds they shared, but only registered the unhelpful silence that meant they truly weren’t nearby. 

 

Warriors didn’t like that- hated it, in fact. There had been absolutely nothing special about the portal or their trip through it, and yet they had apparently been torn apart from one another. Whether it was the Dark’s machinations or something more harmless, he didn’t like the deviation from the blessedly stable (or presumed so, up until now) portals that moved the Chain about. They were a necessary means of transportation, and he swore he could feel hives breaking out at the thought of that much unavoidable uncertainty and potential danger every time they had to switch worlds. 

 

The Chain wasn’t doing so well on this adventure that he needed any proverbial handicaps, thank you very much. 

 

And yet here he was, Wars thought surlily as another wash of rain buffeted over him as he smooth soaked hair back across his scalp to clear his line of sight, for all the good it did. He tried to shield his eyes, but it was no use; the downpour was practically a curtain it was so thick, and though it wasn’t night -else it would be completely black- visibility was only a few feet around him, and he felt suddenly blind and deaf, nearly claustrophobic for how the rain walled him in and dulled his senses. 

 

A crackling ping, then another, and a strange frisson across his skin. Wars looked down from trying to peer through the deluge to find tiny sparks running over his pauldron, and a twist over his shoulder showed his sword doing the same, to his confused blinking. There was nothing around, and as the zapping grew louder and more frequent he suddenly jerked his head upward, at the muted flashes that occasionally lit up the dark clouds above. 

 

Oh, oh no . 

 

“Shit!” He barked, and tore the sword from his back, fingers dancing expertly over the buckle for his armor as he backed away from the sword, sparking more angrily on the ground now. He freed himself of the metal and let it fall as well, retreating fast as the buzz in the air peaked. Sparks continued to flicker over his chainmail, and he scrambled to remove it as well before falling over, nearing hitting his head on a leaning stone pillar. 

Hoping it would be enough, the Captain slid under it and held his breath, slowly relaxing as he stopped sparking, only to jerk in surprise as the electricity gathering on his other metal items finally hit its peak. 

 

Wars’ eyes closed instinctively, but there was no ignoring the flash of brightness as the lightning struck with a crack of expanding air, the ground shaking with the force of the impact. In the following darkness he recognized the shape of the little pyramid from before, outlined by bright lashes of electricity running over its walls. He wasted no time abandoning his tiny, barely adequate cover for the opportunity of more spacious shelter, slinking over to it and nearly eating it as his foot snagged on a near invisible landing of stone leading up to the open inner room. The Captain only just managed to catch himself with a hand on the warm stone of the building, only to yelp as a spark jumped on him with a painful little bite. He eyed it warily for a moment before ducking inside regardless- It had nothing at all on the lightning strike that could have hit him earlier. 

 

It was no dryer even under its roof, the inlet shallow enough and wind vicious enough that the rain blew in relentlessly, but it was some small scrap of shelter and better by far than being outside in this madness.

 

And madness it was- the wind screamed outside, sheets of rain falling with driving force, the general calamatous riot of sound -accentuated by the prevailing roll of thunder and whip-crack of lightning- positively terrifying. He watched as another strike of light and fury blazed across his discarded armor, pressing nervously back into the rear wall of his shelter.

 

“No metal until the storm passes,” he murmured with a disturbed frown, and inched cautiously closer to the entrance to take in what he could. The lightning, Warriors found, would strike the metal every few minutes, always with enough precursory sparking to act as a proper head’s up beforehand. Eventually, he brought his pauldron under the shelter of the shrine, waiting outside just in case they were struck anyways, but his flimsy knowledge of lightning and electricity served him well, as it had with the stone arch earlier- as long as there was something non-conductive overhead, metal was fine. Useful knowledge, and some small relief, that. 

 

What was interesting was that the shrine also seemed to attract lighting, but was also seemingly non-conductive itself, seeing as he’d been unharmed when it was first struck with him inside. 

 

Scared shitless , but unharmed.  

 

Warriors gave it his best approximation of an hour, but the storm showed no signs of giving up, and he was finally forced to resign himself to the storm and dangers of going out unprotected in favor of making some headway on finding the others, or even just scoping out his own situation failing all else. Huffing an exasperated breath, he stripped off the chainmail and his gauntlets, feeling terribly vulnerable as he put his tunic back on, already soaked and clinging too closely to his body. 

 

No weapons, no shield, no armor. 

 

This was shaping up to be a clusterfuck, alright; that was fine , though, the Captain reminded himself despite the gritted teeth. He’d had his fair share of facing long odds and working with too little, and all the heroes of courage were well-practiced at making the most out of a poor situation.

 

 At this point, he needed information more than anything else. Now safe from the lightning -or as safe as he could be while out amongst the storm- he meandered past the confines of the building, cautious and painfully aware of how exactly how little he could see or sense around him. He’d mentally marked several pillars, which must have formed a ring around the glowing pedestal in the sand in front of the shelter before they were destroyed. Examining the odd stone did nothing, the round dip in the center possibly a place to put a key of some kind. 

 

He didn’t have any dungeons in his own era, but he’d gone through more than a few now in the others’, and this? This kind of key-finding business seemed exactly like some kind of dungeon fuckery, which was unfortunate, considering that it meant monsters were an inevitability, not a matter of chance. 

 

Continuing to explore, he wandered in ever larger circles around the shelter, spotting an oddly shaped something- a chest, if he was lucky, or supplies perhaps. 

 

It was neither, as it turns out. The Captain drew close in the gloom, cautious but curious, only to have the object fly upwards with a burst of sand and sloughed rain that sent him crouching and reaching for a sword and shield that weren’t there shit -

 

 He tried to track it only to get a double eyeful of wind-blown rain for his troubles as he stared skyward a rapidly approaching cackle from above the only warning he had to roll away. The Captain wasn’t quite fast enough, razor edged claws catching on his thigh and cleanly cutting through muscle even as his body hit the sand and rolled out of range for the second swipe. He managed to slip behind the leaning pillar as it came into view through the driving rain, edging along it quickly to keep the solid stone between him and the monster.

 

Whatever it was moved fast , and his leg was in no shape to continue circling around the pillars for long, already threatening to have buckled beneath him if not for the support of the stone every time he lunged between them.  

 

Best to face it on his terms, then, and with that resolution he made a snap decision and on-the-fly plan.

 

Was it the best plan? No, of course not, not when barely a handful of thoughts went into it. It probably wasn’t the smartest, cleverest, or most efficient or effective plan. But was it all he could do with what he had? 

 

Sure as shit was.  

 

Mouth tucked into an unhappy frown, the Captain unwound the scarf from his neck, twisting it around one hand and readying himself as he continued to play ring around the rosy with the monster. Seconds passed like hours as the sparks lit up over by the shrine until finally there was a crack of lightning several meters to the side, marking the location of his sword and the start of his timer. Warriors switched directions and came nearly face to face with the monster as it slipped around the closest pillar in pursuit of him; it was a giant lizalfos of some kind, he saw now, its previously sand-colored skin now a foggy gray that made it hard to focus on in the driving rain.

 

It drew up from its quadripedal position and the hero’s hands flashed about, scarf-wrapped hand snaring one of the monster’s wrists as the other looped the sodden, heavy fabric around the lizalfos’ other arm, twining both scaled hands together and pulling the scarf through the loops about his hand. He tugged the knot tight with one hand -easy enough when the scarf was sodden and twisted, practically rope-like and easy enough to swing into a knot- the other busy being planted in the monster’s eye and shoving the mouthful of teeth away from his shoulder and neck, painfully vulnerable without scarf or armor to protect them.

 

Gripping the bound arms by the scarf knotting them together Wars twisted and pulled the monster over his back, flipping it through the air as it squawked in surprise, the bulk of it lighter than he’d expected- lizards were bony things though, and he wasn’t about to complain about sending the lizalfos farther than hoped.

 

Orienting himself by the pillar with the distinctive missing top, Warriors limped as fast as he could through the rain towards the lightning strike, aware of the monster shrieking in rage behind him as his searching eyes finally snagged on his sword in the sand. He bent without slowing and laid his hand over the already sparking hilt, not wasting time looking over his shoulder as he let himself skid to a stop on his good leg, spinning around as he did. The lizalfos was faster than he liked- though he suspected it would have been faster yet if it wasn’t forced to stay on two feet with its arms bound. It streaked forward to meet his strike only to leap backwards at the last minute, blade whistling through empty air as Wars overbalanced and fell, his wounded thigh unwilling to take one for the team as it dumped him to the sand. 

 

His cursing was lost to the wind and the rain, the monster thankfully too far away in its retreat to take advantage of the dangerously wide opening Wars had just given it. A soft zapping, sparks crawling over the hilt and across his hand with jittering warmth and warning, the lizalfos darting in a zig zag as it circled, its color and the rain combining to make it near impossible to track were it not for the royal blue of his scarf as he staggered to his feet once more, shuffling to face it as it looped around. 

 

He did not have time for this.  

 

(He could wait, throw the sword at the last minute-

 

But what if he missed and was left without a weapon? He discarded the thought gladly, ignoring the part of him whispered and his scarf would be fried, then, the scoff that sentimentality would get him killed yet sounding suspiciously like Impa.)

 

Wars groaned, clutching his free hand to his bleeding leg and falling to one knee, head drooping as his soaked hair fell to shield his face. From the curtain of driving rain came the lizalfos, bright blue scarf at its front as it charged the injured hylian. 

 

Hook, line, sinker, you little shit. 

 

Sans front claws to swipe with, the reptilian creature lunged for a bite, neck extended in open invitation for the Captain’s sparking blade as this time, he waited until the monster had fully committed before striking out. It didn’t cut all the way through, catching on the spine despite the full body twist powering the blow, but it was enough to leave the monster pouring its black blood out into the sand, and a single foot bracing against the pommel sent the blade the rest of the way to separating head from body. 

 

Panting, the Captain stabbed the sword back to the open sand in front of the shrine, turning away from the impending lightning to save his eyes and night vision, a gust of wind blowing soaked hair back from his face as he walked away from the weapon. He bent awkwardly down to gather his scarf as it pooled around the fading form of the lizalfos, pulling the knot free with a single smooth tug and wrapping it once more around his neck before limping back to the shrine. 

 

Minutes later, red potion begrudgingly ingested and fighting fit once more, Wars finally let his head fall back, a grimace on his handsome face. 

 

This whole ordeal was bad, and didn’t look to be improving anytime soon. Gods, what had happened to land him here? Harried by lightning and strange monsters, alone in an unending storm with only one way out, and he could guess what awaited him along that path. A part of Warriors couldn’t help but wonder if it was another of the Goddess’ tests, some version of a dungeon.

 

What the hell he or any of the others had yet to prove to her was beyond him, but well, if it looks like a dungeon and acts like a dungeon-

 

Then it must be some kind of trial, whether it was Hylia, Dark Link, or some odd quirk of fate that had landed him in it. 

 

The Captain had a suspicion that this may be a new world, for the building and the monsters were unlike anything he’d seen before in any of the others’ kingdoms, and the stone construct seemed important enough that it would have been mentioned by its respective Link. It sang of power and magic, even to his weak ability to sense such things. 

 

Then again, he thought wryly, he could also just as easily landed in one of the many kingdoms outside of Hyrule Legend had saved and refused to speak about. It didn’t explain why they’d been separated, but Warriors doubted he’d get that answer until he managed to find the others, if even then. 

 

Hylia did not often deign to explain herself, after all. 

 

Dungeon or not, purposeful test from the goddess or no, he couldn’t wait here. The others were either on their way to him or they weren’t, and in either case it made sense for Warriors to go out and take what monsters he could out of the fight, carefully, of course. 

 

There was no cause yet to take dangerous chances- if the others were coming, getting himself killed before they arrived would be unnecessarily rash. If they weren’t -for reasons he dared not let himself wonder over when it could lead nowhere but paralyzing worry- he would still need to try to get out on his own, and scoping out and culling the herd did no harm.    

 

Warriors had two red potions still, which was safety enough to validate another venture out to see what he was up against.  The easier he could make it on the others the better, and if he got out of whatever this was on his own then he could begin his own search for them, just in case they’d been landed in trials of their own. 

 

Looking at his situation, he prayed that wasn’t the case. Looking at his past history and the many examples of the spirit of courage’s shitty luck, he bit back a surge of fear. 

 

The other Links had not proven themselves exceptions to said shitty luck.

 

It was growing darker outside, the already abysmal visibility growing ever worse at a steady pace. Nightfall, then, for all that he had no way to track the time in the storm. 

 

It was possible that he could sneak out past the monsters  now, if ever he’d be able to- subterfuge had never worked for him before nor been his first choice so far as tactics went, but the others had used it with some success at points in their adventures and he was more than happy to take a leaf out of their books if it had a good chance of success. Unarmed as he was, Warriors would prefer to avoid what fights he could, and the cover of darkness and rain seemed as good a scenario as he was going to get. If the path was lined with those pillars for additional cover, all the better. 

 

Happy with the plan, he set about preparing. 

 

The Captain stepped out of the squat building, and did a quick series of experiments within the storm. He could place his zapping sword and armor in his bag, and they wouldn’t get shocked while in there- something in the magic of the storage spells seemed to lock it in a different dimension, which lined up with what little of Legend’s prattling he’d understood. He could not, as he’d hoped, dissipate the building charge by placing it in his inventory- the metal continued sparking just as badly when withdrawn from the bag. 

 

He couldn’t just continually escape getting zapped by periodically stowing his sword, then, but at least he could bring it with him and use it in a similar fashion he had with the lizalfos- time it out to the lightning strikes, and use it in the minutes in between. It was dangerous, and full of things that could go wrong, but in the end all that mattered was whether or not it was better than going unarmed. 

 

Definitely, yes. Just the thought of facing up against a dark nut or something similar with nothing but his bare hands again made him shudder. He could abide long odds, but even he had his limits.

 

He also finished scoping out the area around and behind his little pyramid;  it was a small circle of sand, it turned out, with water churning at the edges, waves crashing and roiling as far out as he could see, which was not very. Swimming in that would be asking to drown, especially when there was no telling where he was headed, leaving only the twisting path that led out past the pillars and the round pedestal, curving gently as he followed it. The isle of sand was narrow enough that he could almost see where the sand gave way to water on either side through the falling darkness and incessant rain.

 

Lightning cracked down a few feet in front of him, illuminating an odd metal weapon whose sparking he hadn’t spotted, and a towering monster, pale and looming in the darkness, looking back at Wars as well. 

 

A booming crash rolled across the air around them and darkness fell once more, the Captain already pulling his sword free from his bag and bracing himself, squinting into the rain-soaked wind. It was only honed reflexes that saved him as a spear came stabbing out from the darkness, the monster at the other end of it using the dismal visibility and superior range of the weapon to its full advantage as it danced just at the edge of what the hylian could make out in the storm.

 

With a twist of his wrist Warriors flicked his sword to circle around the shaft of the spear and lick up the monster’s pale arm, opening the arteries there with deceptive delicacy as he slid it back towards himself, shifting his stance in one flowing stride and bringing his other hand up to immediately slide forward and stab the monster in the stomach. A wash of dark blood poured out and was immediately diluted by rain before his eyes, and for his troubles the Captain was promptly clobbered hard enough to send him flying to the side, sword ripped from his hand as it remained nestled in the monster’s body. 

 

He flipped ass over teakettle until he hit water, the sea bottom nestling under his shoulder for a moment before he was promptly dumped back over the sand by a crashing wave that nearly dragged him back out again as he sputtered and coughed, head spinning and with absolutely no idea where he was or where the monster was in the chaos of the storm. 

 

Warriors need not have worried though, because the hulking whatever-it-was didn’t have the same issue finding him ,  lumbering out of the dusk and swiping at him with the spear once more. He flipped narrowly over it and skipped a retreat back the instant his boots touched sand again, eyes latched on the sparks beginning to blossom at the center of the monster’s chest, the only thing he could make out in the solid darkness at this point, and, oh -

 

He couldn’t see anything, but gods help him if he backed into the rioting water again and got tangled in the waves. The Captain immediately began to step more carefully, suddenly wary of the ocean’s danger, the crash of waves incomprehensible from the roar of downpouring rain and shriek of wind. 

 

The spear darted out from the darkness, flying past him by luck rather than any avoidance on his part, cutting a thin line along his ribs and bicep as it slipped between the gap of his body and arm. His surprised shout was lost to the wind, and Warriors turned to see if he could find where the weapon had landed, to at least have something in hand, only to find another of the hulking monsters there, nearly on top of him but utterly unaware of the fact. Its back was to him, nearly invisible with its dark fur -was it a moblin ?- head swiveling as it looked around for the source of the spear, nothing more than an indistinct line at its feet.

 

What kind of moron thought it was a good idea to head out at night, in a storm again? Goddess above, but he’d said it himself- sneaking had never worked for him in his adventures, and some things never fucking changed. 

 

Behind him, the monster he’d impaled finally met with the too-friendly lightning ever licking at Wars’ heels, finishing off that problem, at least.

 

He wasn’t going to be thanking it, though- the sound and the light drew the dark moblin’s attention right to him as it too sought the location of the strike, and Wars opted for a retreat back to his sword, immediately losing the black-furred moblin in the gloomy downpour.

 

It was as he was running along with his heart pounding in his chest as he uselessly eyed the impenetrable darkness around him that he acknowledged he may have made a mistake. Like, a big one , because this? This wasn’t working. 

 

Sure, Warriors was taking the monsters by surprise, but he was being caught off guard just as much as they were, so there was no advantage there. The moblins weren’t powerful, for all that they were infected, but half-blind and disoriented by the rain and mayhem of the storm around him they were far from easy opponents, to say nothing of the hit and miss availability of his weapon. 

 

Even now, all it would take was the dark moblin sneaking up behind him and striking a solid hit on his unarmored back, and he’d be well and truly fucked. Between the cover of the storm’s roar and that thrice cursed rain in the night-time shadow, it had ample opportunity. Just to be safe, Warriors spun a slow circle, but the sense of vulnerability remained, prickling along the back of his neck no matter how often he turned, watching for even a hint of smoky fur or hulking movement. 

 

A double-edged sword indeed, the Captain thought of the darkness, scrunching his nose unhappily as he mentally notched a few inches off of his ego in accordance to recent events. He huffed a dry laugh and decided retreat was the better part of valor, turning to carefully head back and spend the night in relative safety within his shelter and come up with a better plan moving forward.

 

He left the sword on the sand and let the lightning take it again before placing it in his bag. The flash at last revealed that the dark moblin had moved farther down the stretch of sand, already turning to face him once more at the crack of electricity and confirming that nighttime was the worst possible time to be trying to sneak out- not that he’d be trying again in the daytime, either. He kept one hand ready to pull out his shield in case another monster showed up beside him in the low-light, and began to head back. The sky gifted him an array of several bolts in a furious flurry,  exposing for a handful of moments the world around him, for long enough this time that he could get a half decent look at his surroundings in detail as the veil of rain was momentarily stabbed through with clarifying light. 

 

A looping spiral of land, the full shape of it visible now that he wasn’t holed away in a building at the center. There were forms in the water, and at intervals along the sandy path, and then the image was gone again. 

 

Trapped, and nowhere near the end. 

 

For the first time, true fear clawed at Warriors’ lungs, doubt bleeding in as he stood there, shaken. He’d barely managed to take out one moblin, and that was literally just the start. If he was right, then this storm was part of the ordeal, and wouldn’t let up until he had escaped. 

 

Wars did not have an infinite amount of rations, or time to spend whittling the monsters away one by one. The insight of the spiral’s monster population only solidified his decision to recoup for the night- he couldn’t sneak past so many, not blind himself, and getting caught between several monsters in this kind of fight was not an ordeal he needed to undergo. Wars wasn’t so desperate, not yet. 

 

The Captain cautiously made his way back, warier still of the water now that he knew enemies were waiting within it, though they must have been duly distracted by the waves. Spinning his head cautiously around him, he caught sight of something odd and only just made out several stals clawing forth from the ground before he picked up his pace to a trot, more determined than before to wait until morning. 

 

Like hell was he dealing with stalchildren on top of those damned moblins and lizalfos -he was not hunting around for an errant skull in this weather, not while fending off the body and juggling a zapping sword.

 

 It was easy enough to lose them in the storm, thankfully, even if he did nearly jog right into the water before correcting his path with a yelp and a panicked “Holy shit!” before he managed to dance back out onto solid sand. Ducking back into the little building was a surprising relief, considering that it was little shelter from the storm. Just having solid stone at his back was enough to calm the frazzled edges of his nerves, the zapping walls still serving as a safer place than the darkness outside. 

 

And so Warriors huddled at the back of the shrine, brows knit tight in focus and predatory patience, running over the facts and the options as the night dragged by, the hours he’d been separated and the others lost piling up in an increasingly difficult-to-ignore panic at the hind of his mind. 

 

He forced a deep, slow breath, and set it aside for after he was free of this. Worry was a distraction, now. It was not helpful, nor productive, and so there was no place for it. Over the course of the night the Captain forced himself time and time again to re-orient to the problem at hand, the spiral path of monsters leading out. 

 

(He knew the water was building behind the dam, that it couldn’t hold forever, but it only had to hold long enough . He could manage that. 

 

He had to.) 

 

Wars waited, and plotted, and choked his panic down where no one could see it, like a good army Captain.  

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

It was impossible to say when he woke up the next morning, save that the pitch black of night had given away to a gray-green cast instead, the storm still raging around his little sheltering stone. From what he had gleaned from yesterdays (mis)adventures, his enemies were mostly comprised of the lanky moblins and quick-footed lizalfos, both of which he was confident in being able to take down in one on one confrontations now that he wouldn’t be fumbling in the dark. 

 

It would be time-consuming, but as long as he could take them out one at a time without triggering the aquatic enemies it was only a matter of making sure he didn’t exhaust himself or let them group up. 

 

He could do this. One monster at a time, take care in between. The danger wasn’t in the enemies, but in his own fear and haste, should he get reckless. 

 

Steady on, Captain. 

 

He made his way back, looping past the cleared sections. The black moblin was there where he’d left it, dragging an arm over its eyes as if to clear away the water. Another crack of lightning made it jerk, noticing Wars in an instant. 

 

He waved with one hand, reaching for his sword in his bag. 

 

What followed was nothing if not an exercise in frustration- the moblin would have been fine on its own, were it not for the rain in his eyes, the ocean bracketing him, the thrice damned water shots being fired at him without mercy. Wars had no time to aim back, and the gust of the winds made it a moot point anyway- he was a terrible shot at the best of times, and this was not that.

 

By the time he managed to take out the moblin and two more lizalfos he was dead tired and cold to the bone, with little distance to show for the effort he’d put in. It took far too long to even get that far; it was already late afternoon. By this point he’d grown as used to the setting as he could- using the lightning to his advantage where possible, overjoyed by the realization that some of the monsters had wooden weapons, which he was all too happy to steal and turn against their brethren. 

 

Even that wasn’t a perfect solution though, as the wood proved brittle to his overpowered strikes, shattering against moblin hide and leaving him no worse off than before he’d had to juggle his zapping sword. He was working on another moblin when he only barely managed to side-step an octorok’s rock straight into the monster’s club. The blow caught him behind the ear, sending him sprawling. Between them lay the sword, and he blinked heavily at it before his addled brain jumped back online and oh fuck there it went -

 

He and the moblin were both close enough to get the peripheral zaps off of the lightning, though nothing so debilitating as a direct hit. Combined with the brain-scrambling hitit was plenty enough to send him over the edge of consciousness, though, and away he went in a fizzle of light.  

 

------------------------------------------------------------

 

Warriors woke up wet, cold, and in pain. He was folded on his side, tangled in one of the few scrub brushes on the sand bar, head near splitting and thoughts slow to form and hard to hold, like honey dripping through his fingers. 

 

What was- ? Ugh, that, oh that was nausea oh shit - 

 

And some part of him knew that this was a bad sign, but as his stomach was busy turning itself inside out the Captain hadn’t the heart to care, faltering on the edge of fainting again if only so he could escape the crushing pain in his skull. Groaning, he rolled to his back, shuddering in pain as a sharp trill of agony told him that part of his skull was not ready to come into contact with anything. 

 

He drew himself to his knees with a sad wobble, probing his head with clumsy fingers, falling forward with his vision going bright and spotty as he touched something very sensitive. His hair was wet- oh that was a lot of blood then, that was bad- Except, when he squinted at his fingers in the dim light there was only water. 

 

Oh, oh it was raining, quite a bit, wasn’t it? It must not be that bad then, if there wasn’t any blood. 

 

Or was it worse when it's bleeding inside? He couldn’t remember, and his head hurt too much to try. Wars barely noticed as he slumped back to the sand- the ground was cold, and gritty, and uncomfortable, but he was… so tired… didn’t matter-

 

-----------------------------------------------------------

 

He blinked, wavering as he stood, barely upright, blinking dizzily at the bouncing skull in front of him. It hopped at him and he shouted as he tried to dodge and promptly fell away from it, the bat in his flailing arm smacking across it and cracking the brittle bone. 

 

The breath was knocked from him as his shoulder hit the ground hard, his head following suit, the world winking out in a flash of pain.

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Wars came to doubled over and vomiting,, hands braced against wobbling knees. He coughed and straightened to a sideways hunch, sure that he’d fall right over if he stood up all the way. He staggering like a drunk over the sand as he held a wavering arm to shield him from the rain before coming to a stop, not sure what, exactly he was doing. There was something glowing in the distance though, and he walked towards it like a moth drawn to flame until his legs fell behind and he fell forward, barely catching himself. Head drooping, he panted, trying to think, but his head hurt so much-

 

He looked up, and there was something glowing in the distance. Nowhere else to go and feeling as if he was in a dream, he tried to climb to his feet and failed, finally giving up and crawling forward. Something exploded nearby, and he curled up and covered his head with clawed hands, fingers accidentally gripping something that   h    u       r            t 

 

------------------------------------------------------

 

The Captain blinked uncomprehendingly up at a glowing pyramid, dragging himself halfheartedly towards it until his fingers brushed the stone. Try as he might, he couldn’t claw his way up it- rain slick as the surface was, weak and clumsy as his hands were. 

 

Oh! his -his grappling hook, that was good for climbing. He flopped his bag onto the sand, dumping the contents out- sword, shield, red potion, green potion oooohhhh, was that a wooden figure of a- a….

 

He stared at the carved figurine in his hand, head bobbing and eyes drifting out of focus before they fluttered and sharpened somewhat. He moaned, cradling his head, opening one eye to look at the potion and grab it. 

 

Anything to make this headache go away , he begged, knocking some of it back and nearly throwing up afterward, keeping his mouth determinedly clamped shut as he heaved. It half worked, in that he did indeed still throw up - and here he thought he was winning - but only once, gagging again but keeping what remained of the potion down successfully on the second - oh gods nevermind he thought as he retched again - third time. He blinked as the warm glow of magic tingled through him, and blinked again, pushing himself up with no small amount of alarm.

 

What… happened ? No, what the fuck had happened? Oh gods, he knows this pain, this absent-mindedness, that’s a head wound, shit -

 

Wars grabbed the bottle where it had fallen and promptly swallowed the rest of the potion, the nausea and pain smoothing away to something more easily ignorable. Now, where was he- what?

 

The scattered supplies around him were- they were sparking?

 

That… that was important, and as the little bolts increased in number and ferocity he slid up onto the platform and cautiously backed into the shelter of the building, unnerved by the growing sense of electricity. 

 

A flash of light and heat, too close and too loud and full of biting electricity that gripped him in muscle-twitching pain for too long before dropping him haphazardly into darkness.

 

-------------------------------------------------------------------

 

By the time he woke up again, he was in no fucking mood . Every inch of his body ached with overuse and exhaustion, and what memories he could recall were scrambled and indistinct, full of rain and electricity and monsters in a senseless jumble. They fell into order a little as he sat there, having gathered his supplies from where they’d been scattered around near the temple and eaten a much needed meal, judging by the shaky weakness in his limbs. 

 

His head injury was mostly healed, enough that he was wary to use his last red potion on it. There were hints of other semi-healed wounds as well- a twinge in his leg, a bone-deep ache in his shoulder, but none so serious as to hamper him. It was fully dark outside, and he vaguely recalled having quite the goddess-damned time out there in the night. Seeing as he was in no shape to tackle anything at the moment, he instead settled back, hoping some rest would help with his still semi-addled mind and strained body. 

 

It was loud, though, and for as tired as his body was, his mind was raucous in its growing pain and continued state of confusion. The wind and crash of waves was thunderous, to say nothing of the random lightning strikes that seemed able to maliciously sense every time he was about to nod off. 

 

Just when it seemed he was finally getting accustomed to the violent cracks of lightning -or at least desensitized to the crash and clamor of them- there came an explosion of sound and light to put all the other strikes to shame. It cracked down upon him and his little stone building like the wrath of Hylia, shaking the earth and sending electricity running rampant even through the previously shock-resistant stone walls, ensnaring Warriors in its electric grip as the world outside turned bright as a flash of sunshine. 

 

In the seconds it took to recover from the initial shock -literal and figurative- he realized that the building around him was charged , and particularly zappy at the moment. The Captain stumbled out from it with a yelp, turning to find it sparking worse than ever, like the last strike had finally knocked the insulation right out of it. Wobbling on muscles still jumping from the electricity and dazed from the lingering remnants of his concussion, it took an embarrassingly long time for him to realize that there was something very much still zapping and sparking behind him on the sand between his building and the circular stone pedestal. He squinted against the rain and the vicious, lashing flares of light, and immediately cursed and started forward as he recognized the jumping, twitching form of a hylian, caught in the throes of some kind of electrical well. 

 

The instant he came close though, it jumped to Wars’ body as well, crumbling him to his knees and twisting his back in pain before he managed to roll clear, panting and twitching, and very, very afraid. 

 

Because through the electricity, fading in and out, he could feel it, feel him - just the vaguest impression of the other, consciousness too fragmented at the moment to have a definitive feel, but- 

 

It was another hero, caught before him. Flickering, fading in and out, dying . He convulsed violently within the lashing branches of lightning, and Wars knew even a hero couldn’t survive so long under this kind of onslaught. He dove forward once more, determined to grab the other and roll them both clear, only to get soundly zapped and thrown violently away, the impact of his still-aching head against the sandy beach nearly knocking him out again. 

 

He laid there, clinging to consciousness by a thin, thin thread, thoughts slowly settling back into place as the world trickled back. He became once more aware of his tingling extremities, of the terrible soreness of his aching body, the pain pulsing through his skull to rattle in his brain. Distantly, there was a discordant, odd note, and it was only when a crackle of electricity followed that he realized the sound had been missing compared to before. 

 

A soul bond flickered back into place within his wavering mind, and he subconsciously clung to it as it hummed, weak and faltering, already a part of him he couldn’t bear to lose. Link needed him, now. 

 

Get up!  

 

Warriors forced disobedient legs to gather underneath him, stumbling like a drunk to the fallen form, no longer seizing on the ground, their form practically invisible in the gloom but for the few remaining licks of sparks along their body. He came to rest beside the other, the dark wash of blood pouring from Link’s nose near the only detail he could make out in the darkness, and as he rested a trembling hand on their chest they twitched powerfully, choking on the rain pouring into their slack mouth. 

 

They -no he , Wars realized in a flash of leaf adrift a tumultuous stream-fingers gently plumping a piping marshmallow to test for doneness- gave a weak cough, but did nothing to avoid the rain, twitching spasmodically under his hands. A glance over his shoulder showed the stone temple dying down gradually, and with a weary sense of acceptance he began to heave the other over. It was far from careful, his dragging, as he kept overbalancing and falling over himself, but the hero remained completely unreactive, even after he was toted up into the stone shelter and out from the worst of the rain with damn near the last of Warrior’s strength. 

 

The Captain immediately scrambled to take vitals, the brief crash-course of field medicine running wildly through his mind. Link’s breath was faint and strained, but a quick examination showed that there were no broken ribs, though they were disturbingly prominent under hand, the face now visible in the glow of the building gaunt and pale. Wars checked his pulse too, concerned after he had spent so long seizing and remained so unresponsive despite the jarring of his moving them through the storm- he could feel that the other was awake, though clearly something was wrong. The other hero’s presence was unclear and vague, nothing more than a vague impression at best. His pulse, too, was weak and faltering, the rhythm jagged and barely holding to anything resembling a steady beat.

 

His eyes flickered open, a dazzling blue glinting in the turquoise shine around them. They ran over Warrior’s face, the hero’s expression crumpling in confusion as his eyes unfocused and roamed aimlessly, a concerning tremble taking root in his body. Wars placed a hand on his forehead, testing it for fever but finding it cool and clammy, almost too low, if anything. 

 

Confusion, clammy skin, erratic pulse - “Don’t you dare fail me now,” he threatened the other’s heart, turning to grab a red potion with the hand not currently tracking his faltering pulse-  

 

Then Link’s eyes rolled back, and that was all the warning the Captain had before the other hylian began to seize in earnest, jittering and jerking as Wars was left to watch, knowing there was nothing he could do but wait. 

 

He swallowed, all too aware of the fact that this was a very bad sign, and a dangerous symptom after what the hero had been through- there’d been similar cases before after devastating head injuries or terrible illness, and there was nothing to be done except hope they come out of it. He didn’t know if it was from the electrocution or something prior to his arrival, but no matter- as soon as the hero was able Wars was going to shove a red potion down his throat, and that would - it would it would it would - fix whatever was wrong. 

 

He forced himself to down half of a healing potion as well, knowing he’d need to be steady on his feet and clear of mind if he was going to get himself and a sick companion out past all those monsters any time soon. The last of the confusion cleared away, leaving only an easily ignorable headache for now and a clear mind, with the image of his convulsing soulmate forever branded in perfect definition within his memories.

 

The seizure finally slowed and halted, and Link was still breathing at the end of it, even if his heart was stuttering enough to have Wars propping his legs up and clutching the red potion with white-knuckled unease, waiting for the moment the other woke up even in the slightest or-

 

Or for when his heart stopped altogether, and Wars had to try his best to give it to an unconscious body without drowning him. 

 

He kept his fingers tight to Link’s wrist the instant it relaxed enough to be safe to grab, tense and excruciatingly patient as time passed in a slow, stop-start battle of the other’s heart. Finally, there was a shift in the younger hylian’s breathing, from shallow gasps to a deeper inhale, and he opened his eyes again, blank and distant and empty. This too, he’d seen before, thankfully- it was terrifying to see a mind carved free of any personality or thought, and had he not known to expect it he’d be panicking. 

 

Panicking even worse, that is. But Wars could work through panic, knew how to wrangle it down and out of the way to focus past it, was fully familiar with riding the wave of adrenaline and skating the line between the energizing drive of the emotion and the dangerous desperate recklessness that spawned from wild fear.

 

(It wasn’t in his nature to be careful- this had almost proven the end of him once, and the harsh lesson kept him humble and cautious when he had time to think and exercise restraint, but sometimes… 

 

Sometimes he followed his instincts, traitorously proud and dangerously impulsive, proving that lessons learned can’t always trump ingrained reflexive reactions.) 

 

Cautiously, Wars lifted Link up, heartened when the other’s initial twitch of shock and weak flail suddenly froze, his mind turning into the bond; there was nothing cognizant at the moment, but it seemed even that primal part of the other hero’s mind recognized Wars as no threat to him. The Captain did his best to send a happy, comforting emotion over as he coaxed the other hero into drinking the red potion, carefully gauging his condition as he allowed the other slow sips. Finally, that shallow, hiccuping breath evened out and his pulse steadied, though less markedly than Warriors had hoped for.

 

Link had finished the potion by the time he came back to himself and woke from the fugue state, grimacing weakly and immediately resting a hand on his stomach with a faint moan. Concerned, Wars followed suit, catching the first warning shivers of the other’s diaphragm under his hand before Link relaxed again, the tense line of his neck easing into a weak sprawl against Wars’ shoulder once more.  

 

Worried he’d passed again, Warriors immediately heckled, “You awake? Can you tell me your name?” 

 

Those brilliant blue eyes opened, staring unseeing at the wall as his mouth slipped open, lips shaping soundless words for a second before he slowly blinked. 

 

“‘m Link” The other slurred exhaustedly, rolling his head back and forth slowly as if trying to figure out how to move his body again. At the confirmation Wars couldn’t help but let his grip fall into a gentle hug around the other, his younger age and obvious suffering and confusion triggering something deeply protective within the Captain. The rain gusted in ferociously, and Wars immediately turned so he would block Link from the worst of it, using one arm to pull the scarf from his neck and drape it over the other’s torso in a way that wouldn’t tangle if -Goddess forbid, no truly Hylia don’t you dare - Link suffered another seizure; it was sodden, but they were both soaked through and still being spattered with water, so there was no helping it. 

 

He tried to gauge the other’s clarity, because if what he was picking up from the bond was correct, Link was very much still out of it,  a mess of weak, overlapping emotions and half-formed thoughts. “Good,” he soothed, “Do you know where you are?”

 

Too long a silence, the younger hylian seeming almost oblivious to the fact he’d asked a question at all, and Wars was just gearing up to deeper concern when the other did finally answer. It was broken, and wrong, but at least made sense in the context of the question, leaving the Captain with a mixed bag of worry and tempered relief and growing trepidation.

 

 “I- Castle… no, a mist’ke, it’s-” Link shifted agitatedly, his breathing picking up. 

 

Through the bond Wars caught a glimpse of a handful of the Chain, clustered around and looking resigned and unhappy, Link relating relief and desperation to the memory before it was gone again, at least confirming that the others were better off than the Captain had been. 

 

“The spiral, the swirl’n shrine. Jumped n’ landed ‘n a l’tng well when it ‘ll went wrong again,” the hero slurred, confusion clear on his face as he clearly tried and failed to arrange his thoughts. There was a brief stirring of alarm across the bond, lost and confused and afraid, and Wars couldn’t do anything but run a hand soothingly through Link’s hair, hushing him. 

 

“Here, you should finish this,” he said softly, offering the other half of his red potion to the disoriented hero. Link took it after a few missed attempts, his hand shaking so viciously that Warriors had to steady it so he wouldn’t spill the precious potion inside. 

 

Immediately afterwards Link jerked forward, gagging, and for a moment Wars was sure he was going to throw up the potion before it had a chance to work. But the hero slowly eased, falling back against his limply, eyes closed as his head leaned back against the war hero’s shoulder. 

 

Warriors refused to let him sleep yet though, despite how desperately he looked to need it- there was too much he had to find out first about this world and what had happened, especially if Link was going to be passed out for who knows how long while he recovered. He knew the Chain was safe, now, and quietly switched the priority of that lower, then, in favor of information more critical to getting both of them out of here safely.

 

 Wars leaned his head forward, hooking his chin over Link’s shoulder and resting their cheeks together as the other’s head began to loll, trying not to get too caught up on the sharpness of the other’s cheekbone against his own. “Link? What do you mean it went wrong?” He asked, nudging the other’s face a little to get a response, still unwilling to free his hand from monitoring that flickering, worrisome pulse. 

 

Pure confusion met him though, and Wars mentally added the inability to retain short-term memories to the growing list of concerns he had on Link’s health. He opened his mouth to ask a different question when a particularly long roll of thunder hammered outside as a lightning bolt flashed down before them. The Captain waited for it to subside so he could speak again, only to realize that Link hadn’t relaxed past the initial flinch, still tense enough to shake , and cursed himself for his insensitivity even as he ran his thumb reassuringly over the others ribs, hugging him tighter. 

 

Link had just been electrocuted to an inch of his life- of course he’s going to be frightened by the rampant lightning storm right outside the open entrance of their measly shelter. Warriors carefully kept his sigh inside himself,  fingers tightening unconsciously as he noted that the beat of the other’s heart had predictably worsened as it raced along. “Damn it,” he muttered to himself. “You should really have another potion.” 

 

Another memory handed over the bond, of Link throwing up a dazzling array of sparkling potions onto a blank canvas of snow, dizzy and nauseous and overwrought before it blinked out again. Wars considered the starved look and the nausea every time he’d gotten Link to drink the potions, and with a spark of realization put two and two together. 

 

“Or maybe not,” he said numbly. “ Shit .” He swore, because all that Link needed on top of seizures and electrocution complications was potion overdose as well. Except, how else was Wars going to get him help, trapped here as he was? He hadn’t even been able to get himself free, and now he had another person to watch out for, one who shouldn’t be drinking anymore of the only healing resource they had available.

 

 “ Shit . ” He iterated softly, with more ferocity.  He rubbed a hand thoughtlessly over Link’s stomach, even though he knew that the nausea wasn’t going to be soothed by the pressure, not when it was based on magic abuse more than any physical malady.  

 

He still did it, though. It was all he c ould do, apparently. 

 

Link was quiet in his arms, but surprisingly not drifting off, not yet. Instead, his gaze wandered blearily around, resting on Wars’ leg as he twitched it away from a biting spark off of the walls. Damn things had died down but were still there aplenty, and stung like a bitch. They were harmless enough to him, but he did worry about any heightened sensitivity on Link’s part, concerned for his heart’s resilience in any further interaction with electricity at the moment. 

 

Link twisted and clumsily hauled his bag from between them with no small amount of wiggling and help from Wars in unfurling his scarf from around them. This seemed to immediately distract the other, whose gaze moved from the bright blue and snagged on his face, lighting up. So close together, he could see the slight wavering in Link’s focus, could watch the confusion fog his eyes briefly before giving way once more to satisfaction and joy. 

 

Could he feel the soulbond already? Wars knew most of the others could right away upon meeting the other heroes of courage, though how much and how clearly could be sensed varied between them. He wasn’t very sensitive himself compared to the others- the emotions he picked up were sometimes hard to read, the only reason he was at all able to discern them being the practice he’d had with Mask and Tune. 

 

The memory snatching was, to Legend’s endless amusement, more a symptom of his clumsy inexperience with the intricacies of the soulbond between them all than any kind of actual skill, his ham-fisted attempt at forging a connection ending up snatching the most relevant, potent memory from the others if he wasn’t careful.  

 

(Legend had never sounded so disgustingly smug as when he laid it out ‘in terms Warriors could understand’: “It’s like having someone knock on your door, right? Except sometimes, when it's you, you throw a rock through the window and reach in and take a picture frame off the wall.”

 

“Legend,” he’d said dumbly, “what the fuck?”

 

The Vet bristled immediately, snapping “Don’t ‘what the fuck me’; you’re the one breaking and entering!”

 

Which wasn’t entirely accurate, of course- Legend had been pulling his leg somewhat. Any of his soulmates could withhold the memory he latched on to -and he had no choice of what he got, since the whole damn thing was still outside his control anyway- but usually they didn’t bother. 

 

‘It’d be like smacking candy out of a kid’s hand,” Sky had said with a sympathetic shrug, and Warriors had begged them all to please take this seriously guys, I’m reading your minds!

 

“Only ‘cuz we’re letting you,” Hyrule had reminded him, smiling brightly at him.) 

 

“I’m wild!” Link blurted out as he leaned in closer, nearly touching their noses together. Wars blinked back at him, wondering how, exactly, he should respond to that. A congratulations? 

 

Link laughed, a little too high and vigorously for their immediate setting, and Warriors lips tightened into a thin line as he  grimly added emotional volatility to the list of symptoms. 

 

He nearly missed Link’s follow-up of, “You are…?” 

 

The Captain blinked again as he realized he’d not bothered saying yet -rude, even if Link wouldn’t have remembered- before sending the other hero as bright a smile as he could muster, drawing on the genuine relief at finding Link and him being alright, even if everything else was shit .  

 

“I’m Warriors,” he said, and the instant it left his mouth he realized that Link had been introducing himself, not making a completely random comment on his personality. 

 

The goddess damned nouns for names will get him yet, he thought ruefully. 

 

The other hero had taken the hand he’d offered in a shake, and Warriors took full, shameless advantage to further gauge Wild’s recovery;  instead of releasing it he gently twisted the other’s hand and quietly surveyed it as it trembled tangibly within their shared grasp. Too cold, and the poor circulation was a concern, certainly. The tremors could very well be from the electrocution, or from magic overuse if he’d overconsumed potions-

 

“I thought you were supposed to have pretty hair?” Wild said, and the Captain’s mind switched immediately to full indignation, head jerking up immediately as his hand flew self-consciously to his soaked hair, plastered to his skull. 

 

He couldn’t stifle his offended gasp. “I do! When it’s not soaked from a full day of being out in a storm!” He argued, hackles up at the unfairness of the comment. And of his failed first impression, apparently- he hadn’t even realized he had a reputation to live up to; what had the others been telling Wild? Apparently, surprisingly flattering things, if his first dazed comment was on the fact that he’d expected Wars to be well-groomed. 

 

A pleasant surprise, that. And one that meant  Legend must have been either busy somewhere else or sufficiently quelled to silence by Time while they were giving Wild the rundown. 

 

He brought his hand to his hair, restlessly running a hand through it before giving it up as a lost cause and refocusing on where he’d left off, only to find Wild’s hands buried out of sight within his bag in the midst of his distraction. 

 

Oh? Clever, or just coincidental?

 

He hoped it was wit, because if Wild was able to scheme in his current state that either meant he was a tactical mastermind or a terrible gremlin who had mischief burned into the very fabric of his spirit and was beginning to feel well enough to express it.

 

First though, he wanted to know what the Chain had told Wild, and if he had met them all- he’d been worried they all may have been separated, if his being trapped alone was any indication of how the portal landing had gone. 

 

“How many-” He started to ask, not getting far at all before being immediately cut off by a slippery hat being shoved over his head and face, breaking off to sputter indignantly and attempt to peel the odd, clingy -was that leather? - fabric off from where it had immediately plastered itself to his damp skin. His hair wound up spiked oddly from all the wrestling, and he could feel it sticking up strangely as he gave Wild a withering look. 

 

It rolled right off the other, who only blinked owlishly at him before frowning. “What are you- put that back on. Here, I’ve got earrings too, are your ears pierced?” He said carelessly, already back to looking in his bag, pulling a hand out and clenching the fingers before clearly struggling to pick something up with them and failing. 

 

Wars leaned forward, plucking up the earrings Wild had been fumbling with and holding them up in the dim light to examine. “What is this?” He wondered aloud, though he had an inkling- he’d seen enough charmed jewelry on Legend to guess that this was something similar, even if he’d not the sensitivity to feel the magic on his own.

 

Wild confirmed, lightly replying, “They’re for the lightning, so we don’t get zapped getting - wait.” He stopped suddenly, and that familiar film of confusion ran across his face once more.  

 

“Where’s Time?” He asked in an odd, lilting voice, expression lost. The Captain’s heart sank at the obvious slip in lucidity. Just when he seemed to be doing better - 

 

“Time was supposed to be with you?” He asked, disappointed. Time’s presence would have been fantastic, or… maybe not, if he’d only ended up as bad off as poor Wild. “No,” Wars confirmed, “You were alone when you arrived, and it was quite explosive; I couldn’t have missed someone else showing up like that.” He said it with full confidence, and then immediately paused, because between the rain and the darkness, would he have?

 

If Time had been sparking like Wild, probably. But it not, if they’d planned for it and Time had been wearing some of this electric-warded jewelry as well-

 

Could he be out there? If he hadn’t been zapped like Wild -and therefore clearly visible through the stormy gloom- he wouldn’t be passed out, and if he wasn’t passed out he’d almost certainly have headed towards the building as the only glowing, constantly  lightning struck-and-therefore-very-visible thing around. He watched as Wild’s face fell into still shock, seemingly uncomprehending of the fact that Time had not, in fact, come with him here. 

 

(Probably, with 90% certainty that rose every second Time didn’t come out of the rain.)

 

“What happened?” The Captain demanded firmly, dread growing in his gut at the shell-shocked look on Wild’s face, the horror swamping the bond. 

 

Wild stared back with uncertain, vacuous eyes, looking terribly young and ill as he tried to answer.  “We traveled to the shrine?” He offered weakly, and then seemed lost for any further words, a sheen gathering in his eyes at the frustration and befuddlement of his clouded mind. 

 

Warriors nodded encouragingly, gentling his tone a little as he tried to narrow the course a little for the other. “How did you do that?” 

 

Wild’s eyes fluttered as he thought hard, struggling to focus, voice shaky and uncertain. “The slate. It- it’s been acting weird with the broken shrines and we thought it wasn’t going to work this time but then it beeped and there was light everywhere and I was here- oh god,” he gasped, curling in on himself with wide, horrified eyes and going absolutely still for a single second, before the tension broke across him.

 

Wild’s trembling grew frightfully worse, and Wars felt concern shoot through him as the other hero descended into panic far too fierce for his wavering state of health. “Oh Hylia , what if the tech lost him?” Wild cried, shaking his head. “What if he’s dead, what if it tore him apart too and just didn’t put him back together -” The younger hylian’s words fell apart completely then, his hands gripping viciously at his scalp and pulling as he uttered soft, denial soaked ‘no’s’, clearly spiralling into pure distress. 

 

Warriors’ apprehension grew as Wild’s breathing sped up, what little color he’d gained falling away. The Captain immediately eased the other’s hold on his hair, trying to soothe him. “Link, it’s alright, can you breathe with me? You’re okay, Time’s okay,” he said gently, but Wild only continued to shake and mutter, deaf to Wars’ quiet assurances. 

 

So he pulled the smaller hylian into a hug instead, drawing Wild’s head to rest upon his chest over his heart, breathing in deep and slow, doing his best imitation of Time’s wave of comfort across the bond and knowing full well he’d not managed it at all. 

 

So failing that, he coiled tighter around the other, softly soothing him and leading him to match Wars’ breath, drawing him back into the slow rhythm each time it began to pick up once more, his eyes still distant and wild but his respiration gradually tracking along with the steady inhales under his ear. Everytime Wars grew hopeful Wild was coming out of it he would fall back within his own mind, tangled within some internal panic and too ill and afraid to be drawn free by any external guidance. 

 

His breathing grew ragged, the trembles giving way to tremors, and Warriors tried, again, to bring him back, his voice almost begging, but it was no use; with a bitten off grunt Wild arched suddenly in his hold, muscles seizing up as he fell once more into a fit, forcing the Captain to lay him down as best he could and draw clear of the flailing limbs, jaw clenched in helplessness, pale gaze pinned on the seizing hero before him. This seizure was shorter than the last, but no less terrifying to witness, Wars leaping forward the instant Wild stilled to check the state of his heart, heart jumping into his throat at the flighty, fluttering beat of the overworked muscle. 

 

He pulled Wild back against him, needing to feel him warm and breathing still, needing that reassurance as the weight of the past day crashed down all at once in the relative silence of the storm. If this was a test, it was a harsh one indeed- sending him here and driving home how helpless he was when stripped bare, then adding the terrible responsibility of another hero’s life, a precious soulbound companion whose only chance rested in his inadequate hands. 

 

And Time - something had happened there, something bad enough to send Wild into a panic attack at the thought of it, and Wars couldn’t help but feel part of himself wither in fear of the what-if’s that bloomed up like blood plumes in water. So far separated, he couldn’t feel anything from any of the others, but surely if any of them died he would know?

 

Surely he would feel the space where their shared soul had been linked together, the hole where those familiar minds pressed against his?

 

He never wanted to know, but he forced himself to believe it to be true. There was no time to languish in the alternative, no room for the kind of distraction that worry would cause him. He couldn’t fall apart, which meant there could be nothing , at this moment, that could shatter him- be it achieved by denial or repression or whatever the fuck it took to keep going.  

 

In his arms Wild sighed and pressed tighter to him, awake at last. 

 

Warriors looked down at him- the only one who mattered at the moment -  asking, “How are you feeling?”  but Wild barely met his eyes before gently pulling away to sit up unsteadily, lips tight and eyes just a hair too desperate for his liking. 

 

The other hero felt around for his bag, ignoring Wars even as he flicked an acknowledging ear in his direction, hell bent on whatever task he’d pinned his mind to in an attempt not to spiral. 

 

 “Wild?” He said again, voice soft but tone firm. The Captain frowned harshly as Wild staggered to his feet, and lunged after him when his hand emerged from his bag with another potion. 

 

He snagged that too-thin wrist and held it firmly, practically holding the other up as he paused for a moment to calm himself back down -because it was far too soon for Wild to be standing walking taking another potion moving - before keeping his voice carefully even, ever cautious of letting anger be what was heard when all he was feeling was concern.

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea? You just had a red potion- ' ' One and a half, actually- “And you need to be careful how many you drink,” he stated calmly, matter of factly. “I think part of why you’re feeling so bad is because you might have had too many too quickly; some of your symptoms line up.” Wild huffed slightly at that, skepticism in the tilt of his eyebrows even as he wearily regarded Warriors, who remained relaxed and friendly despite the anxiety coiling within him. 

 

Warrior’s felt his mouth purse in disbelief that mirrored Wild’s slightly bemused stare. “It is possible to overdose on them,” he iterated, not heartened by the lazy blink he received, “Though heroes tend to be the only ones getting in bad enough trouble often enough to suffer from it,” he admitted.

 

Wild’s eyes darted away shiftily, and Wars despaired at the ongoing silent treatment. “How many have you had? While picking us up? It doesn’t sound like it’s been going well,” he said delicately, which- you could say that. 

 

Not going well. One hell of a way to put it, with some of the Chain still gone and Time.. with his sprite-

 

Ah, no, not now, remember Captain?

 

Wild looked into space for long enough that Warriors began to wonder if he still remembered the question. Then he blinked and said with unconvincing seriousness, “Only three, spaced a day apart.”

 

Wars just looked at the hero before him displaying all the signs of potion overuse with tight-lipped dismay. 

 

Wild drooped at the disappointed stare, face crumpling and dropping into his hands before shaking his head in frustration and looking up to meet Warriors’ worried gaze. “We need to hurry , Wars,” he begged in a shaking voice, eyes intent. He gestured his hands over his body before holding them before him, shaking visibly. “I can’t do it like this, and we don’t have time to wait, and I’m- I’m sorry, about Time, I’m so, so sorry,” he gasped, face crumbling as he seemed to edge near to breaking down once more as he turned away, voice hardening around the tears as he intoned, “But we need to go .”

 

Wars rested a hand on his shoulder from behind, trying to soothe him.  “Wild- Wild, it’s alright. Do you-” He hesitated in the face of the riot of negative emotions across the soulbond, and changed directions.

 

He was still sure Time was gone then, possibly dead, and Warriors had to know how much of it was confusion or misunderstanding, had to know just how possible it was that Time -that Mask - was- was…

 

“Are you sure he’s gone, Wild?” He managed, voice trembling as he faced a world without his brother. 

 

Wild sniffled, shoulders hunched defensively. “I- the slate almost killed me at the desert shrines- you get unmade and reformed in a teleport but there… it kept unmaking and remaking me, but it was all wrong and it hurt, and here, it almost tore me apart even after I arrived. It’s not- It’s never done anything like it before, I’ve never been in danger before, but the way it is now, I- “ He paused, trembling, clearly shaken by the disastrous betrayal of a previously faithful item. 

 

Wild shook his head, the water-worn braid flinging back and forth behind him. “It could have killed him, it could have dropped him off somewhere else, I just don’t know. This all is nothing like what I’ve ever seen,” he admitted, and for all his fear and anxious energy Wars actually felt better, now. 

 

Wild didn’t know, and had assumed the worst. He could hardly be blamed for that, considering he was in no shape to be handling anything like that well, not on top of whatever other complications he was dealing with. Warriors though, would just have to assume the best until they were in a position to provide assistance.

 

“What did you see? What happened, exactly, when you ‘jumped’ here?” The Captain checked, keeping his voice soft. Wild seemed nearly on the brink of collapse again, but fought against his gentle nudges to sit with all he had; after seeing him fall into a seizure after getting too overwrought before he would do anything to help keep him calm as he could in the middle of this clusterfuck, but-

 

Well, Warriors needed all the information he could get.

 

Wild seemed to focus a little, drawing out of his panic a little as he worked through his memories with a clearer mind. “We tried to use it, and it shocked us. When I picked it up the screen was working, but weird, and it was beeping. Time…” Wild flinched at the name, but continued on gamely, unreactive to the comforting squeeze of Wars’ hand on his arm or the wash of reassurance he sent the other. 

 

“Time and I decided not to use the slate if it was acting oddly. Right after, it beeped again, and the map was working when I looked at it. It shocked us again, and then-” Wild blinked, and his eyes sharpened. He gave his head a sharp shake, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his temple in concentration as he slowly continued. 

 

“It shocked us, and we jerked away from each other. I don’t- I couldn’t see or feel anything after that, but-” Wild’s eyes popped open, bright blue and practically crackling with manic energy. “If we weren’t touching, he might not have been brought along at all. He could still be back there,” the younger hero whispered, hope blooming hard and fast across his face, and as he laughed in relief Wars couldn’t help but grip his shoulder tighter and try to keep him focused, wary of the manic energy radiating from the clearly exhausted hylian, the emotions looping frantically between their minds near dizzying. 

 

 “He may still be back where ,” Wars pressed, but the other only laughed harder, unresponsive to his name as he barely caught himself short of devolving into sobs, instead.  

 

Wild’s answer was confused, and broken again, the confusion rising to the surface once more. “He- he could still be at Castletown, I don’t think we were touching, he could be alive, but- oh goddess I don’t know, I’m not sure, and with the blood moon he could still be in danger when all the monsters come back-“ Wild mumbled, trailing off as he thought aloud. 

 

“What?” Warriors snapped to attention, because that sounded bad . Worse, it sounded imminent. “What do you mean, when the monsters come back?” He asked apprehensively, voice sharper than he meant. 

 

Wild sent a useless glance to the storm-ridden sky outside as he shivered, arms wrapped tightly around himself. “Tonight is a blood moon, it’s why we have to hurry . At midnight, it’s possible that all monsters will be resurrected,” He said, placing odd emphasis on the uncertainty of the event, completely at odds with the absolute dread on his face and in his body language. “We have to be close- it was 11 when me and Time went to leave. The slate will know for sure,” he murmured, hand flitting to an empty holster at his hip, before looking out into the rain where he’d arrived. 

 

Oh no, he can’t honestly be considering- No , absolutely not.  Wars learned from his and other’s mistakes, and Wild had suffered several seizures and who knows what else from the last time he used this slate. 

 

The Captain’s voice hardened, his tone a firm refusal. “I don’t think we should be using that, if what you’ve said is true. It’s almost killed you, and- Time?” He reminded the other, a cruel thing to do but well, he had to make his point. “You were afraid it had killed him, for a minute,” He reiterated, because in his scattered state that fact seemed to have slipped Wild’s mind in favor of the blood moon rising.

 

Wild just continued squinting into the rain, flinching back at the next flash of lightning but not in the least dissuaded from nearly dying to this item already. He perked up and threw out an arm, shouting something lost completely to the subsequent boom of thunder before tripping away from Wars’ lunge and stumbling out into the storm. 

 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The Captain snarled as he followed right after, eyes glued to Wild’s form through the rain as he fell over picking up something, immediately dragging him right back to their shelter before any stals caught wind of them and became a problem. The younger hero cried out and flinched into him as the building was struck by lightning right in front of them, but Wars merely shielded his eyes with an arm and continued forward, practically dragging the too light hero  inside as Wild’s legs seemed to tangle up and give way. 

 

They stood there, Wild leaning hard against him as he tapped at the- slate? Tapped insistently, before screaming in frustration and throwing it from him and burying his hands in his hair, clearly distraught by the utter non-functionality of the item. He breathed shakily for a second or two before standing waveringly on his own and visibly drawing himself together, the closest to calm -or the best facade yet- that Wars had seen from him so far.

 

The Captain did the same, taking a look at what he knew and compiling it into something functional. He drew himself into parade rest, standing tall and calm and commanding, easily drawing the persona of the unruffled leader over himself. “Alright,” he stated, drawing Wild’s gaze, desperate for direction as everything seemed to be falling apart. “We need to leave now, then. We can make it by midnight; It hasn’t been as long as you think since you arrived -only fifteen, twenty minutes- and small scale battles like this can go fast, “ he assured the younger hero, gauging Wild’s receptivity and confidence as he spoke. 

 

The other seemed heartened, which meant that it must not have been a far stretch- good, because Warriors was taking a gamble with what little he had to go off of. There was also a lack of concern there though, a disregard for his own current state, and Wars moved to curb any overconfidence before it could lead to tragedy down the line. “You’ve had several seizures and your pulse was still unsteady even after a red potion,” he laid out plainly, making it as clear as possible how serious that was. “You’re more responsive now, but Wild, you shouldn’t be doing this- a potion didn’t fix what sitting in that lightning pool did to you, and neither will another one. If this were up to me, we’d hole up here and let you recover.” 

 

He let that sit for a moment, staring grimly at the chastened hero. It was all true- Wild was bad enough off that he’d never throw him into battle in such a state, were it not a last resort situation. But they couldn't stay here, either, not if they risked being swarmed by resurrected monsters with no retreat and limited weapons and armor, and nearly no potions left at all. 

 

“That’s not an option, though,” he admitted heavily, and Wild’s shoulders dropped in relief as Wars tipped his head in acknowledgement to Wild’s earlier insistence on the looming danger.  Wild relaxed all at once at the implied permission, the bond glowing briefly between them with positivity. He sent a small smile to the younger hero, who tipped the potion in his hand to him, drinking it as Wars gave him the rundown of what he knew -and what he remembered, thanks to that concussion- of the strange area around them. 

 

The good news was that Wild also had potions of a sort, and better yet, he had weapons that weren’t lightning rods, even if they were apparently as fragile as the monsters’ ramshackle wooden spears. 

 

Still, it was already so much better than he’d hoped for, and it just might be enough that he could see how Wild found his haphazard declaration feasible after all. 

 

One last status check- and he reassured Wild that he would be fine to have more potions if injured, since the other had seemed so completely befuddled by the concept of overusing the brews- showed Wild about as good as he was going to get, stabilized by whatever potion he’d drunk earlier. 

 

Still shaky, heart still worryingly tenuous, but there was no time nor any other way to help it now- they had no choice but to push onwards. 

 

“Anything else before we go?” He checked, because it was quickly evident that they wouldn’t be able to speak all that well once out in the rain and the wind once more. 

 

Wild perked up. “Oh, yes! There’s a ridge of shallow water that’s shallow enough to walk across, a shortcut of sorts. I know the lizalfos in the water usually make swimming impossible unless you’ve cleared them out, but if we could find it we could run across it, and that’s one more stretch that we don’t have to fight our way through. And maybe we could swim straight to shore from the outer western curve; it’s not too far.” 

 

Interesting, but unrealistic in the current state of things. “The water’s too rough, and the visibility is too poor,” he rebuffed regretfully. “We couldn’t know which way we’re going and could too easily drown. But this shortcut- do you know where it is?” That at least, was promising, if the water didn’t prove too fierce to cross with the current waves. . 

 

“It’s back behind the shrine- I should be able to find it alright even in the rain,” Wild swore, straightening up under Wars’ assessing gaze. 

 

He gave the younger hero a nod and a bright grin. “I’ll leave you to find it, then. These are your monsters, so I’ll follow your lead, alright Wild?” 

 

The Champion flushed at the show of trust, something warm and bright bubbling over the soulbond happily as he drew himself upright at Wars’ confidence in him.  The Captain’s grin softened into something proud, then, and he let himself slip into a more relaxed stance as he winked and pulled the rubber helmet down, carefully laying the scarf so its sodden weight fell out of his way. 

 

Wild snagged the slate before they left, and then they were off, back into the storm and as prepared as they were going to get.

Notes:

Warriors @ Legend: Haha nerd~
Warriors the instant he’s alone with a problem: *pulls goggles down* it’s time for SCIENCE

Legend: New world scientist- reading/researching and structured experiments, results carefully notated and shared
Warriors: Old world scientist- throw shit at it and see what happens, explosions: inevitable, safety:optional, results: SHIT DID YOU SEE THAT

Do not dare tell me Wars wouldn’t be able to fight with his scarf because I don’t buy it. Describing what was happening when he tied those knots was ridiculously difficult, but if you want to get the gist of like, the vibe I was aiming for check out bowline knots, which take like 2 seconds to tie. No, Wind does not know Wars is fantastic with knots and his scarf and rope, by extension. When he DOES find out, he is absolutely THRILLED and they get into long arguments over which knot is better for what, involving many knot competitions for increasingly ridiculous things. Legend sometimes stars as a surprise co-host for these, to Wars’ and Wind’s delight and everyone else’s absolute chagrin.

Wars never really attracted the attention of the lizalfos and octoroks in the water, mostly because he was out at night and very much made less of a racket then he and Wild did later. He managed to stay under their radar, sneaking along as he did.

And another fun snippet: Wars’ world has marshmallows, and Wild’s does not. The sensations picked up through the bond are always from the receiver’s POV; it’s the way they’re perceiving the other, in this case how Wild’s soul feels to Warriors, specifically. Which means it changes a little depending on the state of the other hero, the setting, and to a lesser degree how they’re doing emotionally, but it’s relatively stable unless something truly traumatizing goes down.

Wars does indeed refer to the other Links as his soulmates in a completely non-sexual but absolutely shamelessly sappy way. It’s not /because/ he can use ‘already having met his soulmate’ as an excuse to brush off unwanted advances, but that /is/ a handy bonus. If that doesn’t work, going off about how smart and clever and funny and kind and brave they are always does.

There’s a little less soulbond action in this chapter because, as Wars himself said, he’s not nearly as good with it as most of the others. There is that hilarious little blip of his memory snatching, which he always freaks out about more than any of the others do, but other than that he just generally has a harder time interpreting the exact emotion being felt, relying more on reading the physical cues instead. He’s generally shyer about trying to send feelings or impressions, because that’s when he accidentally pick-pockets a memory. Wars is a bit of a soulbond kleptomaniac, but the Chain loves him anyway.

Chapter 8: Get the Hell out of Dodge

Summary:

Wild and Warriors have already overstayed their welcome here- looks like they’re gonna have to speedrun this shit

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Vomiting, Electrocution, Seizures, Blood/Injury

Time until Wild Contact: 1 Day, 8 hours
Chapter spans: 1 hour 15 minutes or so
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 7, first half

Wild looped them around behind the shrine, standing at the edge of the waves marked by something the Captain still couldn’t make out in the rain-riddled darkness. He watched as Wild looked out over the water, gauging for himself how rough it was and what enemies awaited before turning and pantomiming an offer to snipe the octoroks so they could move forward. 

 

Onto what they were stepping was still a mystery, considering that all that could be seen was a roiling mess of peaked waves, but Wild hadn’t hesitated at all when searching for the supposed shortcut, and seemed equally as sure now in his ability to snipe them despite the brutal lash of wind and rain. Warriors could only trust that the Champion’s confidence wasn’t misplaced, the chance to return fire or even take out the long-distance enemies otherwise untouchable in the water too good a chance to pass up without at least attempting. He sent an ‘OK’ at Wild, shaking it for emphasis to make sure it went across.

 

And glory be, but Warriors luck finally seemed to turn, because it turned out Wild was a dab hand at archery, even ill and stranded in the middle of a stormy night. There was a special kind of vindictive joy in seeing that first octorok get sniped as it hovered up to blast them after all the dodging and ducking Warriors had been doing on his own. The Champion leveled the bow at them with a steadiness that was shocking, considering the tremble of his arms when he readied it at his side as he eyed the monsters, watching the lizalfos keenly before letting off a series of rapid-fire shots that left it falling apart in the waves riddled with arrows. 

 

Wild checked that he was following closely, then stepped out into the water, knees bending as the water pulled hungrily at him. Warriors immediately moved to brace the other as a wave crashed against their legs, knocking the Champion off balance before he gathered himself once more and continued edging forward, cautiously timing their steps to the gaps between wave swells. The nearest octorok was neatly picked off, but the course, though short, was hellish , knowing that any projectile or wave strong enough to knock them off their path would leave them stranded in the water, a practical death sentence. Wild waited until they were almost dangerously near to the second octorok, just outside of its detection, before bringing the bow up- there was less room for error, here, where the ocean was particularly furious. If Wild missed and drew its attention-

 

The Champion staggered as a particularly tall wave shoved at their hips, only saved by Warriors looping an arm around his waist from behind as his feet were washed out from under him, Wild only barely managing to plant his feet again as his weight dropped in the Captain’s arms to save them both from being swept away as the water dragged at him. Under Warriors hands his ribs jolted in a cough, the ocean spray relentless where they were currently stuck until the octorok was taken out, the waves at a perfectly terrible intersection here to find the stability to make said shot.

 

Wild seemed to realize it too, leaning against Warriors’ support as he dragged the slender hero upright, trembling in his hold before snapping the bow up and firing a heart-poundingly slapdash shot. Another rush of unrelenting water had Warriors gripping Wild closer still without seeing if it landed, ruining any chance for a follow-up shot if he’d missed and leaving them utterly vulnerable and completely fucked if the octorok survived to fire on them. Even despite his fast reaction and the way he curled over Wild to hold them in place, he only barely managed to keep both his feet and Wild from being swept away from under him. Another wave came from the other side in a sharp jostle and then Wild was pressing forward in his hold, tugging at his arm, and Warriors followed when he realized the other was leading him onwards, nearly blinded himself by the salt spray as he tried to spot any other enemies around them that could pose a risk. 

 

Every step through the coursing ocean water was a test of trust, risking falling forward into the bottomless, twisting water around them, forcing himself to believe that land would appear underfoot when none of his senses could confirm its presence. But Wild, goddess bless him, led them faithfully through, and Warriors never thought he’d consider this storm-wracked stretch of monster-ridden isle the safer option, but damn him if it wasn’t better then the shortcut had been. 

 

They raced through the part he’d cleared and continued to make their way along at a much faster clip than Warriors had managed on his own, though much of it was thanks to Wild’s bow work; anything out of the gale-shortened range of his arrows was well beyond the scope of noticing the two hylians amidst the storm, leaving them to pass in peace where they couldn’t take the ocean-faring monsters out. Even Wild’s impressive adroitness wasn’t infallible though, and for all that their luck held for a while, it was only a matter of time before the wind shifted too fast and threw a shot off. 

 

The piercing cry of the first lizalfos as it noticed them and flew into a charge attracted a second golden one in from the water, and Warriors gladly stepped forward to face it and start contributing to their endeavor, the unfamiliar weight of the wooden sword Wild had given him heartening nonetheless in its assured safety from the lightning still flashing above them. 

 

If there was one thing he didn’t have to worry about anymore, at least it was getting electrocuted. 

 

Relishing the freedom of not having to drop his weapon every 45 seconds, Warriors gladly intercepted the golden lizalfos, grinning as he caught its claws along the wooden blade. It continued to lunge forward to bite at him and he dipped its weight to the side, coiling into a spin that lashed along its ribs and sent it skidding away with a furious cry. 

 

Ribs cut to the bone but not mortally injured yet, it snarled at him as it rose on its hind legs just outside of his sword’s reach, looking to the sky and swaying. Its horn sparked, and for a second Warriors thought it odd, because none of the other lizalfos had acted as a lightning rod before without metal on them-

 

An electrical field swelled into existence like an explosion, snagging the Captain easily within its circle and freezing him as every muscle seized in rebellion. He twitched painfully, body pulled over-tight as his mind skipped and snagged at every thought, whited out by the electricity interfering with every function. The air around him pulsed and he spasmed in time with the throbbing shocks, completely at the mercy of the electricity thrumming through him and around him. 

 

Then it was gone, taking every ounce of energy he had with it. Nothing left in him that could hold his body up, world flickering with warning white spots and an encroaching field of darkness at the edges, Warriors took a single wobbling step that had him sliding to the ground as his knees immediately buckled. The part of his brain still thrumming with adrenaline, though scattered to hell by the shock, let loose a sense of directionless alarm, and it was the only thing that had him gripping to painful consciousness with deathly tenacity. 

 

Warriors was left kneeling, practically doubled over and tilted to the side, upright only in the loosest sense of the term, but still he shuddered into motion as a part of him recalled the monster that had to be nearby yet. His hand tightened convulsively around the wooden hilt it had cramped around, and he forced his spine to straighten, dragged a leg from under him to brace against the ground. Panting, he squinted into the rain and could see Wild, arcing a slash across the lizalfos that had so thoroughly disabled Warriors. 

 

The Champion was worse off than him- Warriors should be helping . A series of spasms ran along his limbs, the manner in which they twitched out of his control frightening, but Warriors gritted his teeth through it and made an attempt to heave himself to his feet regardless. There was a shiver along his quads as he made it halfway up before the whole leg cramped viciously and sent his knee slamming back down into the sand. He groaned and shuddered, slowly curling to the side as his body refused to obey his signals yet, only sending him excuses like mild electrocution and exhaustion and painpainpain . 

 

Yes, he knew , thank you very much, but there were more important things at the moment, such as getting Wild and himself out of here alive. The Captain raised his head just in time to see Wild kneel beside him, wasting no time in reaching an arm forward to help drag him to his feet. Warriors’ legs wobbled and twitched again, but with Wild’s help were willing to hold him for now. 

 

There was warm breath in his ear, and Wild pressed in close to ask, “Are you alright to keep going?” His tone belied his concern, and exactly how badly he needed the answer to be yes. There wasn’t time for him to gather his wits, nor to wait for the effects to wear off. 

 

The worst of the spasms had passed, but his muscles were still jumping, something along his neck and jaw twitching uncomfortably even as he answered. “A-a little shaky, but I think it’ll wear off. Just one shock t-too many, I think. Help me walk- I’ll steady up as we go.” There was nothing he could do to stop the stutters, nor the way he tremored under Wild’s hand, but he’d fought through worse. 

 

Warriors did what he did best, and continued to push through. 

 

Wild bore his staggering weight with impressive aplomb considering his own feet weren’t terribly steady themselves, but as they hurried on with no monsters save those Wild could take out in the water Warriors’ mind gradually got a hold of his body once more, the last of the trembling finally inconsequential enough for him to jog on his on once more. 

 

Around the next bend a moblin awaited them, and with the memory of Wild’s wide-arcing slice in mind he gave the other space as they bracketed the monster, Wild leading with a vicious blow. As the monster reeled -and Wild too, he noted, something they should address because he was wide open had there been any other enemies around to capitalize on the vulnerability- Warriors dipped in, plunging his blade into the moblin’s side and deftly stepping clear of its haphazard swipe at him. Wild took advantage of its split attention by winding into an impressively powerful spin attack that sent the towering monster sprawling, even though Wild himself was once again left staggering and dangerously off balance as well. 

 

Warriors finished the prone beast off while it was still dazed, taking full advantage of the near-unconscious state of it after Wild had practically shattered its rib cage with that last hit. He turned with a vicious grin on his face, nodding to the Champion as he straightened back up, seeming awed by Warriors despite the fact that Wild had done most of the work in bringing the creature down. He nodded his respect and the other hylian grinned at him, shifting his weight across the sand in a way that was nearly a sway. 

 

No, wait, that was definitely a sway.

 

Shit, then maybe it was more than just a haphazard fighting style that had the other reeling after each attack, Warriors realized as his own head spun a little at the rapid dancing around. Wild had been shocked far worse than him- the other was certainly still going to be dizzy and uncoordinated, even if he was as loath to admit it as the Captain was.  

 

Warriors was going to have to keep a closer eye on him to make sure to cover his back, then, until Wild was properly recovered and fully fighting fit. Alas, beggars can’t be choosers, though, and the bar for ‘fighting fit’ was well and truly lowered to two half-fried hylians staggering around in a storm making themselves dizzy with spin attacks. 

 

It was working, and that’s what mattered.

 

After that, it was a very unassuming exercise in giving Wild the space he needed as a wide-range melee fighter while still remaining close enough to guard him in the dizzy, wobbling aftermath of his more destructive attacks, on top of every other hazard in their current battle ground. 

 

Things didn’t wait too long to go downhill, though. A pair of stal creatures dragged themselves free of the sand, and Wild was already darting forward by the time Warriors noted that one had a metal weapon, sparks jittering along the giant blade even as Wild met it sword for sword. The Champion couldn’t afford another shock, but with the other moblin right alongside maybe he could switch opponents and take the lightning rod for himself-

 

Ah, nevermind, he thought as Wild split the two monsters away from one another and followed the sword wielding one with reckless single-mindedness, the Captain forced to hoof it to keep the other skeletal moblin from landing a hit across his unguarded back, left wide open, again. 

 

Yeah, they were definitely talking about that later.

 

He ducked under a whirling swipe and tried for a one shot to sever the spine, feeling the brittle vertebra crack under the blow even as the magic animating the stal held strong despite his best attempt to wreck it. Warriors dipped away from the answering stab and backed away to give himself more space for a full swing; this time, the thick column of bone broke under the force of the wooden blade, the creature falling away in halves and scattering apart upon the ground. The great skull jittered and snapped about, simultaneously a low grade biting hazard and an enormous pain in his ass as it bounced randomly around his feet. 

 

He was considering whether punting it would break a toe and even do it any damage when, from the corner of his eye, he saw Wild get thrown to the ground by his own opponent, and in spite of all his training and experience in chaotic battlefields, despite knowing better, he couldn’t help the way his attention immediately split away from his own enemy. Warriors hopped away from the jeering skull to give himself a safe amount of space before turning fully to ensure the other was alright, peering into the rain to catch Wild dive across the sand to only narrowly avoid a blow as a lightning strike lit up the peninsula. The Captain turned to finish off the stal’s skull and go assist, feet braced wide in preparation of landing a hit as he squinted in an attempt to predict its movements in the gloom-

 

The barest hint of movement in the darkness at the outermost edge of his sight had him instinctually twisting and raising his shield, still only barely fast enough to catch the full-force blow across the wood rather than his shoulder. Warriors only barely registered the pale, towering hulk of a moblin reeling from the momentum of its own hit as he was spun around by the blow, shield shattering and falling from his screaming arm as he caught himself on his knees, only barely managing to avoid falling entirely. 

 

Where - 

 

He rolled from the lunging stomp back onto his feet, shaking out his tingling arm and cursing as the skull rolled up the reformed skeleton, leaving him facing off against two moblins, of both the living and undead variety. His ear flicked back in any attempt to pick up sounds of distress from Wild’s direction, but there was nothing that could be made out over the wind and rain; that was no source of comfort. A glance to check for any other advancing monsters -and maybe also sneak a backwards look at Wild, who was still up and tackling the stal- showed that these were the only monsters nearby. 

 

Good- this shouldn’t take long.

 

Warriors forced himself to face forward, to block off distractions outside of his own fight as he gripped the sword more firmly and settled his feet. The moblin moved first, quicker than the shambling stalmoblin as it swung a fast hit at him, opting for speed over power now that he had no shield to soften the attacks. Wild’s warning of the brittle nature of their weapons flickered across his mind and the Captain parried it away in a ricochet instead of taking the hit across the blade, the opening for a follow up ruined as the stalmoblin also hammered in a shot, heavy and taking full advantage of his split attention. Only his quick footwork got him out of the way, the tooth-riddled club slamming heavily into the ground where he’d just been, a crashing flash of lightning nearby back-lighting the moblin lunging with its claws at him.

 

Nowhere to go with the water licking at his heels, Warriors loosed a wide range swipe across the both of them in an attempt to win back some space, shattering the stal once more even if the moblin was only sent back a single step. This time, he wasted not a moment in taking out the skull with a solid lash of his blade, practically on top of it as he was, and as he felt it connect the wood splintered along the sword, falling to pieces even as the stal broke apart as well. 

 

He jolted, blinking at the broken sword in hand before immediately diving towards the discarded club of the stalmoblin even as the moblin shrieked and lunged after him. Warriors was left tripping over disintegrating bones in an attempt to avoid the next swing of the moblin’s weapon, opting to give up grabbing the club in favor of not getting his brains bashed out. It left him empty handed but uninjured enough to glare at the moblin straddling the other club as it chuckled at his soaked, unarmed form warily edging around it. 

 

Except he wasn’t, not at all. Grinning viciously, his hand darted to his bag, to his sword, perfectly good for killing monsters even when it did come with a timer. 

 

If there were any doubts about this moblin being black blooded, they fell away in an instant. It saw him go for his pack and immediately surged forward, giving him no time at all to dig out a weapon. Warriors could scramble away, but the reach of the lanky monster kept him on his toes, and the uneven slope and give of the sand towards the dangerous waters was doing his maneuverability no favors. The moblin had him backed up against the lashing waves, leaving nowhere for him to sprint along the curved beach that wasn’t closed off by the smug monster, for all his greater speed. 

 

Warriors was trapped, and it… might not be fine after all.

 

He let it take a swing, risking a foot in the water to lean out of the way and darting in before the moblin could recover, stepping in close enough to hammer a foot to its knee. The joint crumpled but there was no familiar crunch of bone under the blow, the infected monster too sturdy to give way under mere hylian strength. Warriors was just pushing off to get away when a jut of bone crashed along his temple, the moblin twisting around to elbow him across the head with all its terrible strength. 

 

The world dissolved into white, sparking pain, and he opened unfocused eyes laid out upon the sand a second later, limbs feeling distant and unresponsive as he fought off the dizzy call of unconsciousness. He might not have wholly succeeded as everything shifted in the next blink, the moblin already gripping his tunic and hauling him up even as he dazedly scrabbled at its fist, coming back to awareness far too slowly to save himself. It gave him a nauseating shake that sent pain snapping along his neck and flung him away with one hand, the icy touch of the ocean barely registering as his skull bounced against the rain-hardened sand once more. 

 

He came to a stop sprawled at the very edge of the water, legs caught in its dragging currents, head bobbing and vision warping dangerously as he tried to clamber to his feet, staggering nearly to falling as he pulled himself from the sucking pull of the ocean and futilely attempted to pinpoint where the monster was. A cold wave crashed across his knees, the full force of the water buckling the already unsteady joints as he dizzily turned to find the moblin’s club already upon him.

 

There was no dodging it this time, not with his feet swept from under him leaving him prone on the sand, not with the way the world spun dangerously lightly about him. The full, black-blooded force of a moblin drove the dragon-bone studded mass of wood crashing into the slender hylian form, meeting only thin fabric charmed for insulation, not protection. The club bit deep into delicate flesh and bone, crushing them heedlessly against the ground with devastating force as it came hammering down.

 

Warriors felt his ribs give way under the hit, bending and breaking around the club where he was slammed into the unforgiving ground, the shattered rib cage and re-concussed skull more than enough to send the world skipping out of focus. The sound of his hammering heart and the screaming wind around him was the only constant as he faded back and forth, lost in the struggle for breath and flighty, scattered thoughts. 

 

He choked on something warm and wet, the spill of it over his lips nearly scalding compared to the frigid wash of water across the rest of him, already setting his body a numb, far distance from his faltering mind. Warriors fumbled a clumsy hand to the lagging side of his chest, the attempt to roll his head to look down eliciting nothing but daggers of pain down his spine. Sharp bone met icy fingers, more warm, wet heat spilling out over his skin and the sand.

 

He pressed down without a thought, guided by some knowledge whose basis slipped past him already, but the pressure immediately fell away at the answering, dizzying pain of the attempt, at the terrifying flutter of tissue under his hand that could only be one thing as he choked again for want of air. 

 

The attempt hurt like nothing he’d felt before, and drew only half a gasp damp with blood as he weakly writhed at the agony that haunted every second of living, of breathing through the lacerated mess of his lungs. His eyelashes fluttered as he coughed, fighting for another scrap of air. 

 

A potion- he needed… did he have one, though? No- wait… yes?  

 

The tripping mess of thoughts was interrupted by a blazing hand pressing down upon the mess of his ribcage, the wash of agony nearly carrying him away, even if he didn’t have the air to spare on a scream. Blinking back from the blip of unconsciousness, Warriors dragged his flagging focus outward and saw Wild, pale-faced and frightened, hovering above him. His instinctive placation caught in his throat in a bubble of blood though, and there was nothing of comfort to be found in the pained twist of his mouth or the way he choked for breath.

 

Warriors tried to send it across the bond, instead, but it was difficult at the best of times, and for all that it hummed within him trying to maneuver it was far beyond his dazed, dizzy mind. His blinks grew heavy and slow, half-lidded and blind as the numbing chill grew worse. The pain was fading, even if the starved desperation for air wasn’t, and that was bad , he knew, but-

 

Warmth, tickling across him and sinking in through his skin in a way that was far too familiar. The pain grew impossibly worse, the world winking out for a second before he twitched tiredly awake as the fairy magic drew away, the tell-tale burst of adrenaline designed to get them back up and fighting sending his heart racing to pump what blood the fairy had managed to salvage, leaving him panting from the memory of pain and of dying. His hand flew to his side, pressing reassuringly over unmarred skin and ribs arching the correct way once more. 

 

Then there were hands under his head and a bottle at his lips, and an odd tasting red potion hit his tongue. In its wake his shakiness steadied some, and the worst of the dizziness faded somewhat as it helped with the blood loss, though that was an issue not easily resolved by anything but time. Warriors sighed and let his head fall back cradled in Wild’s hands, relishing in having survived once more, savoring the drum of his heartbeat. 

 

Wild said something he didn’t catch, but when Warriors dragged his eyes open to make sure he was alright the Champion’s face was only relieved and rattled. The reassuring lack of any hints of pain on the other’s countenance were immediately shattered as Wild rested Warriors’ head upon his thigh and promptly threw back some of a potion, testing his shoulder between sips as he warily looked around them, his posture cautious and tense even if the hand he still had resting on the Captain’s chest was nothing but gentle.  

 

A stop-gap, trying to conserve what potion he could while still getting back in fighting shape. Between the darkness and the soaked state of their clothes there was no way to see any signs of injury, but Wild at least seemed only concerned for the mobility of his arms, so it was unlikely he was badly hurt elsewhere.

 

Wild confirmed as much when he caught the Captain looking him over, rushing to reassure him, shouting to be heard over the clamor of the storm. “I’m fine now; it was my arms, otherwise I would have left them.” Oh, wonderful. Scratch having faith in Wild’s ability to property gauge wound severity, then.  “I can fight now though, and we should save it in case we really need it; that’s all we have left.”

 

Balancing their health and caution for future injuries was, admittedly, the most important aspect of their situation, and Wild wasn’t doing anything Warriors wouldn’t and hadn’t done many times before. He didn’t like the act of moving past injuries where possible, of pushing a wounded body past what was safe, but it was well and truly the nature of being a hero stuck in battle, and for all that they’d both made it out alive so far there was still plenty farther to go before they were safe. 

 

Then he could lower his standards of what warranted a potion, and make sure Wild didn’t scamper away or laugh off any injuries, no matter how inconsequential. 

 

But for now, Wild was getting noticeably agitated, even if he didn’t have the heart to force Warriors up to his feet quite yet. The sentiment was appreciated, but they had to move, and even if he was now missing a few pints of blood, Warriors wasn’t dying anymore. He lifted himself off of Wild’s lap, the Champion hesitating for a moment before visibly giving in and helping him up. That slender arm around his waist was all that kept him from toppling back over as the blood rushed from his head and the world went dangerously light and wavy, and he only stayed standing as Wild bent to pick up a club from the sand by virtue of wide braced feet, feeling as unsteady as a newborn fawn.

 

The Champion braced his shoulder more firmly to support Warriors, sending him a hesitant, assessing look before the Captain took the initiative and moved them forwards. His lips pinched unhappily at his own unsteadiness, and at how Wild’s balance was wavering too; fairy healing was amazing, but even it took a toll if the subject had suffered multiple severe injuries and healings in a short time. 

 

Wild must have cleared out some of the monsters ahead of them, because they were unharried for a pleasant change right up until they came upon what showed itself to be the last stretch of sand in the illumination of the next lightning strikes. It also lit up several monsters, and despite everything - the dizziness and nausea, the odd exhaustion running under the rush of lingering fairy healing- Warriors couldn’t hold back a feral grin. 

 

They were going to make it, and the thought was a threat and a command to himself. He straightened and eased his weight off of Wild, the other trotting forward to grab a boomerang and wasting no time hucking it at a lizalfos, breaking its neck as it ducked the flying weapon with one clean shot from the club. If there was one thing they were good for, it was vicious, crushing force; Warriors can attest to that. He followed along peaceably, hand on the wooden blade he’d been given as he watched for any hint of Wild getting in over his head. 

 

The Champion seemed to be doing fine though, for all that he’d been through under Warrior’s watch and the weakness that he’d felt as they walked together. He took out two of the octoroks as they leapt to fire upon the hylians, before giving the bow a look and tucking it away with a grim expression. 

 

Not many shots left, then, it seemed.

 

Wild stalked towards the moblin with deadly intent, his head-on approach broken by an odd pause with the club held at the ready behind him before bursting into motion and swiping the moblin’s weapon aside with such force that the towering monster was nearly knocked backwards, the Captain right at his heels. Wild followed the swing into a spinning attack, hitting solidly against the moblin’s knee and bringing it crumpling down neatly in range of Warrior’s blade, a single, lashing strike biting deep enough that he felt it catch upon the spine. 

 

The finesse of the kill was then utterly ruined as his momentum immediately and instantly got the best of him, sending Warriors stumbling over the moblin’s flailing leg in an attempt not to run over Wild. The Champion made a valiant attempt to catch him, but only crumpled under his weight until they were both left sprawled on the sand, far too injured and exhausted for this kind of ordeal. 

 

Warriors let out a bitter laugh, then instantly regretted mocking fate when three stals began digging themselves out almost on top of the downed hylian pair. Wild had mostly untangled himself, hovering over Warriors’ still fumbling form, but he immediately launched forward and hammered one of the stalmoblin’s heads clean off before it was even fully emerged. 

 

The skull flipped through the air, and Warriors was lunging to his knees and bringing his sword to bear almost before it even landed, nailing the wooden blade through it before it could start to skitter in full. It was only the fragility of the weathered bone that saved him, letting it shatter under the unsteady thrust rather than slide away as his hit nearly skidded across the surface instead. The spinning in his head got no better as he made a valiant attempt to gain his feet, only to have the world slide to the side and dump him back upon the sand. 

 

Warriors did his best to blink his sight back into working, lightheaded and dizzy even though he was sprawled on his side. Before him, Wild was doing a damned good job of keeping the two stals at bay, scattering one to pieces before he got tangled between them and took a hit. The Captain struggled to get his arms under him and willed his blood to stay in his head where he needed it as he pulled himself onto one knee. 

 

Something knocked into him, pale and sharp-edged through the dark dots eating into his vision, and his wobbling stance crumbled immediately as the skull of the moblin Wild had just broken apart bounced about. It wasted no time harrying his arm, half the teeth breaking off upon his bracer before a solid smack with the pommel of his sword sent a crack running down it and had it jittering away, eyes glowing maliciously. 

 

Snarling at it and at his uncooperative legs, Warriors swayed up to his feet just in time to see the skull switch directions to roll back to its body, abandoning him in favor of Wild, who’d been fighting off two stalmoblins while he’d been fucking around with a single, harmless skull. 

 

“No you don’t,” he bit out as he dove forward, falling to half tackle, half stab the slippery head, sword shattering alongside the skull as his weight fell upon it, leaving him with a face full of sand and a pathetic sense of achievement.

 

Then, over the rain, he heard Wild’s scream, the desperate sound sending him rolling to his back and twisting to sit up in a quick move that sent his head spinning, only barely registering the moblin right on top of him and half managing to get an arm between his head and the incoming- 

 

Was that a skeleton arm?

 

Pain cracked across his arm and skull, and there was nothing.

 

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Warriors comes to wet, aching, and shaken. Not… in the rattled sense -though the spread of his thoughts feel like someone dumped them out into a river and let them just float away- but in the very literal jostling, turbulent rush of motion that did nothing for what he surmised to be a solid concussion, with all the meager brain power said concussed mind could gather.

 

Something warm is at his back and laid across his chest like a hot band through the soaked cloth, and he’s too weak for now to do anything but lay back against them as the swaying motion steadily tightens the vice around his fractured skull. 

 

The world gives a harsh lurch, snapping his head forward, and a groan is pulled from his throat as he reflexively flinches, feeling his weight begin to overbalance and slide. He gave a half-hearted flail, trying to drag his eyes open but finding that it was no brighter even then until with a blinding spear of agonizing light it suddenly was . Warriors registered hands fumbling to hold him, foreign panic pressing against the blurred confusion of his mind, and tried desperately to gather himself, to sit up, to help, to reassure-

 

His tenuous hold on consciousness slipped all at once, and he was gone before he realized.

 

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Warriors came awake hanging off  a horse, unfocused eyes staring at the ground as he felt himself slip closer to falling from where he was precariously seated upon it at an ever growing angle. Hardly able to think through the pain and growing urge to be sick, the Captain made a weak effort to understand what was happening before promptly giving up as his head gave another agonized stab at the attempt. He barely managed to bring an arm up to clutch more tightly to the hand around his torso before the hindquarters underneath him heaved into motion and the horse’s back folded and punched upward. 

 

A blink, and all at once they were airborne and weightless.

 

The moment stretched oddly on, before all at once he was slammed back to earth, his head  bouncing off of something just hard enough to top off the series of concussions he’s gathered already. The nausea that had been an oily tension this whole time suddenly twisted maliciously, and he lost time in the interim between the thought ‘ oh, I’m going to be sick ’ and blinking back suddenly on all fours, retching up what little was left in his stomach. His scrambled brain decided that surely couldn’t be all he had and wrenched a fist around his gut again, leaving him arching forward once more in a wretchedly painful dry heave. He coughed as his diaphragm finally had mercy on him, arms trembling to hold him and the weight pressed across his back-

 

Another odd blip, and he was staggering alongside the other hylian - Wild , his struggling mind finally offered, sorting through the scattered memories as best it could- head lolling as he did his best to help when it was so hard to keep track of which way the ground was moving underfoot. He dragged his gaze up, the world a haze interspersed with painful points of focus; a green smear of a hill in the distance, a thousand perfectly defined leaves of a bush nearby. The solid gray of rocky slope and-

 

Bokoblins, lined at the top, looking down as Wild dragged them perfectly in range of the bows in hand. A blink, and they faded to blurred blobs, but he was already digging in his heels, though it did no good when they’d been all but dragging along anyways. 

 

“Monsters, no, don’t-” he tried to argue, but his lips refused to participate, and the jumble that reached his ears was barely comprehensible even to him. 

 

Wild dragged him on, though, grip desperate, voice somewhere between panicked and grim. “Come on , Wars, we’ve gotta go,” he gasped, and all of the Captain’s attempts to stop them failed as Wild continued to pull his entire weight forward, looking continually behind, when the danger was before them.

 

Suddenly, a horse. Warriors face planted into its side, the pain of even that small impact on his head whiting out his brain before it jumped back online as he was smeared over the animal’s side in an attempt to push him atop it. He gave a weak flail, twisting to once more look up at the monsters waiting for them, trying to drag a hand free to point as he shouted, “Wild, no- look up !”

 

Still slurred, but this time the Champion seemed to catch that he wasn’t just being difficult for the sake of it. His head whipped up, and his expression fell into despair. Warriors reached out to provide solace but only succeeded in slumping against the other, trying to blink the encroaching darkness  and odd red light spots from his vision, doing his desperate best not to pass out and leave Wild alone in this mess with nothing but dead weight. 

 

Then he was shoved against the horse once more, his hylian support twisting away in a flurry of confusing motion. Warriors managed to grasp unwieldy fingers in a fistful of mane and keep himself up, jerking dizzily as Wild screamed beside him in desperation. The world bled into red and navy, and he determinedly locked his knees in an attempt to stay upright only to be dragged down in the next second, too fast for even the startled cry to leave his lips.

 

The world left him behind as he fell, the blood loss and concussions and rapid descent too much at once, and he was out before he hit the ground.

Notes:

Wild internally: Oh my god he’s so cool
Warriors: I feel like Wild’s doing all the work, I have to CoNTRIBUTE
Warriors: *gets immediately KO’d*

Warriors: ... something's wrong, I don't think I'm doing so hot
His many times healed, electrocuted, concussed body: YA THINK

 

Ayyyy I’m back at last!

Warriors bb I love you but I also totally headcanon you and Wild as the physically weakest heroes. You cannot break a moblin’s knee with pure spite and a good kick the way Legend or Twilight can, no matter how badly you want to. Sigh, my two slender knights who have no power-enhancing bracelets or stronk genes like all the others, you poor things. Doomed to wander the world only able to pick up the average sized wood bundles while their brothers tote around entire boulders.

This was initially going to also contain the Blood moon hitting, but I couldn’t edit all that tonight still, and more importantly it was a really jarring switch in POVs and timeline. So. Instead, the next chapter will be covering the blood moon and the fallout, possibly in two POVs.

So instead you get a (comparatively) short chapter and short notes because I am very much sleep deprived and feeling it, lol. Cheers everyone, see you soon~

Chapter 9: Everyone Hates the Waiting Game

Summary:

No Legend, not yet, but I offer the blood moon instead. Have some heroes freaking out and wallowing in Kakariko, on me.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: None, actually, this one isn’t so bad

Time until Wild Contact: 1 Day, 7 hours or so
Actual Time at start of Chapter: 10:30 PM of second day
Chapter Spans: 14 and a half hours, from the blood moon to Wild arriving back with Legend from the Kakariko gang’s POV
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 7, second half

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Wind’s POV, back in Kakariko

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The problem with the Chain, for all its moments of happiness and bonding, was that by the nature of their quest someone was constantly in some degree of peril, be it some unfortunate innocent or one of the heroes themselves. And they kept coming out victorious, yeah, but every time it seemed things were finally looking up fate decided that it had gone too long without a shitstorm.

 

Wild had finally come through the other side of his harrowing desert ordeal, and Hyrule had been recovering from the worst of his own magic fairy problems and Wind had thought maybe, just maybe, this was the turning point. That Wild would get to rest up and he’d go off and gather the rest of the Chain with far more ease than he had while run-down and injured. Even if he still worried for the others still out there, at least this one night he didn’t have to worry about Wild as well. 

 

Except then the moon had gone red, and the people of Kakariko had grown fearful, the sentiment reflected in their hero as Wild freaked out and insisted he leave despite being barely on the cusp of recovery. And it wasn’t fair that Wild got no time to rest, that he’d only enough time to get to be minimally functional before dashing off again. What kind of dark magic brought all the monsters back, anyway? That was insane, and the only small good note was that it had stopped after Wild had beaten Ganon, right up until now, of all times. 

 

Now, when Wild needed nothing more than a night of sleep and healing after almost dying, again . But Four had argued in his favor, and they’d begrudgingly let him go- not that there was much to do to stop him, not when he could teleport at will. 

 

Wind might still have tried, had he not been caught between two hateful choices; Wild’s rapidly deteriorating health or his brothers’ uncertain, ever worsening chances. There was no way to know which path was better, only Wild standing steady before them with yet more potions bolstering him up, eyes blazing and determined despite the pallor of his skin and jut of his cheekbones. 

 

The Champion had vanished in blue ribbons of light that had by now began to leave nothing but a pit of anxiety in Wind’s stomach at the sight of them, shaky but stable, the fear plain to see on him and the other Sheikah enough to convince them all of the importance of his task. Hyrule had wasted no time whatsoever rounding on Four, who -now that Wind wasn’t being thoroughly distracted by Wild’s jittering panic and the confusion of a half-explained bloody moon- wasn’t looking so good. 

 

Why was he leaning on the wall like that?

 

Then, with a sigh, Four had collapsed right into Hyrule’s arms, and next thing Wind knew he was shoulder to shoulder with Sky hovering over their smallest member, slingshotted right back into the all too familiar panic of his whole experience in Wild’s Hyrule. The Smithy gave them as indignant a look as he could muster, eyes half-lidded and oddly distant before he gave up the valiant effort and relaxed wholly against Hyrule’s chest, terrifyingly small and pale. 

 

After a minute of intense glowing and even more intense glowering, Hyrule’s lips settled firmly into an unhappy mien. “I can’t find anything,” he lilted frustratedly. “Or rather, I can tell it’s something wrong with your magic, Four, but there’s no reason for it to be this tangled and messy. Do you know what it is?” He pressed warningly, even though his hold on Four remained ever gentle, one of the Smithy’s hands being thoughtlessly massaged by Hyrule as they all stared intently at the diminutive hero and the stubborn set of his mouth. 

 

“It’s the moon,” Four tried, and Hyrule hugged him tighter and glared harder, not that the Smithy noticed as his eyes fluttered shut in exhaustion and… pain? Had he been hurting this whole time, without them noticing?

 

“Nice try- something weird and dark is absolutely wrong with the moon but there’s no way that’s all of it, or else I’d be down too,” Hyrule argued, his stubborn streak showing hard. 

 

It’s just too bad that Four was less stubborn and more frustratingly elusive, almost as bad as Time when it came to redirecting questions or giving half answers, easily marked by the tell-tale glance to the side to avoid eye contact. The reassurance of seeing the familiar habit faded in the next second though.

 

“I’ll be fine, just-” He scrunched his eyes closed suddenly as he winced, and when they slowly reopened they were unfocused and wandering, Four’s voice suddenly vacuous in a way that was utterly uncharacteristic of their well-spoken Smithy. “If I could just, I just- Time. I, I some- alone, augh, it’s loud , please-!” His voice raised louder, and he twisted in Hyrule’s arms to clutch at his head with a pained exclamation. 

 

The Traveler had only just rested a glowing hand to Four’s temple when the Smithy went limp again, this time totally unconscious, his hands falling from where they’d clenched in sweat-dampened hair to flop across Hyrule’s legs. 

 

Wind couldn't stop himself from jumping forward to rest a hand over Four’s chest, feeling the hammer of his heart and the expansion of every breath with near dizzying relief. Sky too, was looming over all three of them, Four’s wrist in hand, as Hyrule murmured under his breath about migraines and exhaustion and dark magic. Wind himself couldn’t feel anything of it yet past the unease of their group’s bad situation, between the still missing heroes, Wild’s clear over-stretching of his limits, and Four’s collapse and what did Hyrule just say .

 

Hyrule’s voice was quiet and unhappy, and the prettiest tones in the world didn’t make Sky or Wind any happier to hear what he was telling them. “-I just mean if this blood moon keeps getting worse like Wild said there’s a good chance it’s going to put me down as well. It’s not too bad right now, but it’s… stifling, almost, and uncomfortable, and if it’s only building…” Hyrule trailed off apologetically, as if it was his fault that everything was once more going to shit. 

 

So much for a reprieve. 

 

They all knew Four got migraines occasionally, really bad ones that left him unable to function and off for a few days afterwards. “If this is one of his migraines, the after-effects of the hypothermia, and the dark magic around then that might explain what’s going on,” Wind suggested, voice hushed under the weight of the worry and stress between them all. “He’s said stress can be a trigger, and I think we hit that button more than a few times since we’ve arrived.” He winced, remembering how badly Four fared through the portals on a good day. “Which, yeah, that probably wasn’t one of the easier portal jumps either,” he said, looking at Four’s face, faintly pained even now. 

 

Sky tipped his shoulder to bump reassuringly against Wind’s before leaning back some so he wasn’t looming quite so much, some of the rampant concern softening in thoughtfulness. “He’s never been self-conscious about them before, but with so much going on now that may be why he hid it.”

 

“What, so since I’ve never been able to heal it before, so why bring it up and distract us from Wild? That’s ridiculous!” Hyrule cried quietly, clutching Four closer as his eyes grew round and wet in upset.

 

“Yeah, it is. But Four’s overdue for being dumb, and I think he deserves a bit of a break considering his brain was breaking while he was thinking this all through,” Wind said, because he recalled all too well how the Smithy struggled when his head went into open rebellion against him, and it only made the whole situation sadder to think of Four in pain and still worried about the rest of them, coming up with this as the best answer.  

 

If the idiocy of it wasn’t proof enough something was wrong with their Smithy, Wind didn’t know what was. Hyrule carried Four back to his bed, and Sky opted once more to talk to the Sheikah about the moon and what was coming, putting Wind in charge of their unconscious friend and the apparently soon-to-be unconscious Traveler.

 

The Sailor found himself caught somewhere between gladness for something to do and the given responsibility and absolutely terrified that something would go wrong under his watch. He was no healer, he didn’t know anything! For now, Four’s fever wasn’t too high, but what if it got worse? Hyrule, too, was growing steadily paler and quieter, but when Wind came closer to rest a hand on his shoulder and ask how he was, he sent back a shaky smile. 

 

He let out a melodious hum of reassurance, even though Wind was the one trying to impart comfort. “I’ll be alright, it’s just a gross feeling more than anything truly harmful,” he said, and it was a dirty lie because no one looked that pale over just a ‘gross feeling’. At Wind’s doubtful look, Hyrule pursed his lips in thought for a moment, before snapping his fingers. 

 

“Like being sick after drinking too much!  It looks bad, sure, but it’s just a- a given consequence. The dark magic won’t hurt me or Four, but it’s not agreeing with us in the meantime. Really, I promise. It’ll get worse, but I’ll be fine once it’s over with,” Hyrule soothed, and between the lull of his voice and the gentle reassurance pulsing warm and soft over their bond Wind found himself relaxing somewhat, despite how horribly everything was going. 

 

The peace didn’t last long. 

 

Shortly afterwards, Hyrule moved from the chair to the bed, waving off Wind’s fluttering to no avail as the Sailor determinedly continued to flit between the two helplessly. Sky slipped back in, face unreadable but something comforting in the tired smile he sent the youngest hero, not hiding his worry but far from despairing. 

 

“It should be alright,” he led with, and Wind slumped gently onto Four’s bed, head burrowed in his folded arms. “The blood moon can be rough on some of the more sensitive, but it always passes at midnight. From what Impa said, Wild’s also more sensitive to it, so it’s not unprecedented that Four and Roolie are hit this hard.”

 

Wind’s head popped up, eyes blazing. “And Wild? Any sign of him yet?”

 

Sky’s lips tightened. “Dorian and Cado are heading back up to the shrine soon to keep an eye out for him.”

 

Wind’s expression went grim. “He should be back by now,” he said, tone quietly pleading Sky to say he was wrong. 

 

Sky wasn’t one to lie, though. “Maybe- it’s been long enough now since we all arrived that the others could have moved away from the shrine. He could just be looking for them, not necessarily in trouble, but even so- he’s made it back every other time, even when there were complications. We don’t know what’s happening, or why he’s taking so long, but we’ve got to trust him to get back here in one piece.” It wasn’t a comforting statement, not really, but there wasn’t anything they could do now, not with half their number down and midnight closing in fast. 

 

As Sky had said, the two sheikah guards popped their heads in to let them know they were heading out, frowning at the pair on the bed but wishing them well. Wind replied in kind, calling out a “Good luck!” even if it wasn’t meant for them, not truly. 

 

Then they were left once more to wait, and it seemed like all they'd been able to do since arriving here. Just wait for Wild and the others to come back, helpless and practically useless. Wind hated it, felt the itching need to go out and do something like a burning under his skin, the wet cloth he was wiping across Four’s brow far too little a contribution to feel like he was helping in any way while his brothers were suffering, here before him and out there somewhere while Wild killed himself trying to save them. 

 

And here Wind was, sat at a bedside, perfectly fine and hatefully safe. 

 

Meanwhile, the others were getting worse. Though his eyes darted under his eyelids and his fingers frequently twitched where they rested atop the covers, Four remained out for longer than Wind had expected, given how disturbed his rest was. With nothing left to do but worry and simmer in his own futile self reproach, Wind kept his gaze fixed on their Smithy’s face, smoothing away the worst of the fever sweat as Sky did the same for Hyrule, whose condition was not much better, anymore. Their Traveler was steadily shifting from discomfort to something bordering on pain, pale faced and tense as he curled in the other bed, teeth clenched and stubbornly still. 

 

By now, even Wind was starting to pick out what of his feelings were from the magic just edging into his awareness- as the itchy agitation grew stronger he finally recognized it was an external sensation, not just his own roiling anxiety and urge to move . From what he could feel though the dark magic likely wasn’t helping those emotions, but knowing that did nothing to help push them away; dread was dread, even if he knew it was from an empty threat. Wind could feel the fear and helplessness and anger rising with the moon and the magic, and there was nothing to do, nothing else to focus on except him, here, doing nothing, nothing, nothing -

 

Four’s eyes slitted open under his distant gaze, snapping the Sailor back out of his spiralling thoughts as he leapt to his feet, waving to get Sky’s attention before leaning in, keeping his voice low and quiet. “Four? Hey, you with us?” He checked, when the Smithy did nothing but start to murmur under his breath, eyes gazing through Wind as they flitted around blindly. 

 

The Sailor’s smile dropped from his face, fingers resting tentatively on Four’s hand as it restlessly twisted the blanket in its grip. “Four?” He asked, more fearfully now, because this didn’t look like a migraine anymore- Four wasn’t reeling from the soft candlelight, hadn’t flinched at all at Wind’s voice, quiet though it was. His brow was creased in pain but he wasn’t crippled by it, only seeming caught in his own mind. 

 

Sky settled in on the other side, a careful finger under the chin gently guiding Four’s face to look at him, but the little hero only gave a slow, uncoordinated blink, still mouthing a steady stream of incomprehensible words as his face twitched through a myriad of microexpressions. Wind pressed his hand to the other’s forehead, but though the fever was high, it shouldn’t be causing delirium like this, and migraines didn’t do that either, not that he’d seen. 

 

So what was wrong, then?

 

Then their Skyloftian snapped his fingers in front of Four’s eyes, the crisp pop of sound something that would have been excruciating and cruel if their Smithy were suffering a migraine like they’d thought - hoped , if only to have an answer-  Four twitched and blinked, eyes focusing on the face right above his. 

 

“Sky?” He said, the shape of the words indistinct compared to Four’s usual crisp pronunciation. But that was the entirety of what made sense, as the next flow of slurred speech stopped forming anything understandable, Four’s voice nearly warbling. “What’stopdon’thelppleaseit’snotgoingon-” And on it went in stops and starts, deeply disconcerting, clear proof that something was very, very wrong. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Hyrule called from his bed, stiffly propping himself up and raising his head, curls growing damp as sweat gathered at his temples. Despite his pain though, he seemed only concerned for Four. Wind darted over, leaving Sky to try to coax some water into their Smithy and maybe get something useful from him. 

 

“We don’t think it’s a migraine after all, but he's definitely getting worse. So are you, though, so… hopefully it's the blood moon, and…” He swallowed, realizing that he didn’t have any answers, not really, and Hyrule collapsed his hand reassuringly, squeezing tight. Wind shook his head furiously, blinking back the warmth in his eyes because Hyrule was the one who needed help, not him. 

 

He buried his uncertainty, pulling himself together to present a front that Hyrule wouldn’t feel he had to act strong for. “It’ll be better after midnight, remember?” Wind said, and did his best to send cheer and hope down the line to the Traveler, heartened by Rule’s tight but genuine smile. Wind tentatively hugged the other as he laid him back down, and Hyrule slowly -though the Sailor thought it was from pain more than any hesitation- brought his arms around the younger hero in turn, burrowing his head gratefully into Wind’s chest. It left him in an awkward twisted half crouching, half kneeling position by the bed, but he’d have held it for far longer than Hyrule let him if it was the only comfort he could give the other. 

 

“Still, in case it's not the moon,” the Traveler panted as he turned onto his back once more, gritting his teeth as even Wind felt another hot, heavy pulse of magic pound through the air like cannonfire. “I can see if I can help him, let me just-”

 

Sky was there suddenly, holding Hyrule down easily with a hand to his chest as he let his voice roll out in a smooth rumble. “He’s already out again, and if your magic couldn’t help out before it won’t help now. Just stay down, ‘Roolie, you’re not doing so well yourself.” The curly haired hero stubbornly held his gaze for a moment before Wind felt the sickly press of dark magic swell again, flinching himself as the Traveler shuddered and twisted to his side, arm over his eyes as his hands and jaw clenched in pain. 

 

They continued to watch over Hyrule and Four, and the moon rose ever higher, bringing a black, greasy feeling in the air as it did. The magic sunk its claws steadily into them all, needling at Wind’s awareness and drawing Hyrule into a fetal position, Four slipping ever farther out of touch with reality as he thrashed and muttered before finally passing out for good at a particularly painful brush of acidic magic. Sky paused where he was rubbing a shivering Hyrule’s back back, confusedly lifting a hand to his own temple as he gave a minute wince. Lucky bastard wasn’t sensitive enough yet to notice, but boy, if Four and Hyrule were getting worse than the building headache and sense of wrongness that Wind was, it was no wonder they were so bad off. 

 

It made him feel better, in a backwards kind of way that should have been counterpoint to the shaky sick feeling growing in his own limbs, that he could feel for himself what exactly was ailing his brothers. It wasn’t just some mysterious, baseless sickness anymore; Wind could perfectly well understand now what had Four suffering so and Hyrule curled in pain. 

 

They just had to make it to midnight, and it would get better  . 

 

It was easier said than done, watching Hyrule wither and twist in pain as the oily, burning chafe of dark magic rose ever higher around them. Wind migrated back to Four, who flitted between waking and fitful unconsciousness in painful jerks and whimpers, curled in a ball and gripping his arms so tightly across his chest that Wind couldn't’ help but hug him as well, clutching him firmly as the feverish Smithy shook in his grasp. When awake Four only spoke nonstop nonsense, the normal chaos radiating from his mind kicked into an incomprehensible mess; his soul usually felt like the odd, cohesive chaos of a flock of birds twisting and turning as one in the air in random, flowing movements, but now it was nothing but a frantic scribble of color and sound thick enough to blot out any sense or thought.

 

His grip shifted to Wind’s arms, holding the Sailor tight around him as he pressed in close before fainting away once more. The young hero took the opportunity to pull away an arm to run a damp rag over Four’s forehead, clearing away the sweat and tamping the heat radiating there ever so slightly with the cool water. 

 

Then the thick coil of magic lingering like unseen poisonous fog in the air seemed to condense before his eyes, into dark curls of smoke and flickering, sickly embers that swirled on an unfelt breeze. Wind’s breath caught as the air seemed to burn in his lungs like acid, and Four choked awake, twisting wildly as the nauseous press of the blood moon began to crest in truth around them. 

 

Behind him, Hyrule’s pained voice rose in a chanting plea, and a glance over his shoulder showed the Traveler writhing in Sky’s hold, head flung back and hands trying to claw at his skin as his legs curled under him in pain. Then Four’s coughing gasps gave way to a strangled cry as one arm wrapped around his chest and the other flailed out, head twisting unnaturally as he tried to bury it in the bed despite the awkward turn of his body.

 

Wind couldn’t hold back a sharp, bitten off curse as a wash of burning pain spread over his skin, like he’d suddenly jumped straight to a terrible, whole body blistering sunburn. His heart drummed in his chest, the malicious press of spite and hate driving his panic ever higher, the Sailor’s attempts to ground himself failing as the uncertainty and grinding wrongness continued to grow. 

 

Then a heel kicked into his stomach, and Four less launched himself off the bed than he fell sidelong from it as he twitched and writhed around, scrabbling at the ground in a disturbing show of uncoordination and flailing limbs, like a puppet whose strings were being fought over. Wind followed him to the floor, his move to help faltering as the pain in his head spiked violently and he crumbled under the wave of hate that followed, the racing shadows through the room and growing glow of the sparks darting ever faster across his spotting vision. 

 

Hyrule screamed at last, sweet voice ripping apart as the agony grew too much, but it wasn’t over yet, still building and growing and tearing into all of them-

 

He dove atop Four as the Smithy’s mouth opened in a silent cry, hands jumping to his temples and pressing so hard he almost feared Four was going to hurt himself. Under him the tiny hero twitched and shuddered in pain that had at last crippled him from fighting, was beyond expression even as Hyrule gave another vibrating wail of agony. Through the pain he felt the familiar cool rush of raindrops disturbing the mirror surface of a pond-feet drumming over ground in a reckless sprint and dragged his eyes open and up to meet Wild’s in the doorway, distantly aware he was crying but with no room for shame between the suffocating panic and dizzying relief that their Champion had made it back safely.

 

Midnight hit with all the force of a tidal wave. 

 

Wind barely managed to avoid Four as he collapsed completely, dark magic stabbing into him and setting his nerves alight with scalding pain, the malice twisting and rotting around him and within him as he curled in on himself. The air in his lungs was wrenched from him in a breathy, cracking scream that was echoed by his brothers, but there was no escape from the magic as it washed around them and through them, their agony crashing against the bonds between them and amplifying off of one another. 

 

There was no room for thought, or coping, only the misery of fear and pain and mindless suffering under its dark hold as Wind shuddered upon the ground, another scream pulled from his lips as the pressure built in his head until it would surely burst-

 

Like ears popping whilst climbing a mountain, the magic in the air suddenly broke and faded away, so quickly that Wind was dizzy and light-headed from the suddenness of the relief. His eyes slitted open just enough to catch the last of the smoky haze and hellfire fade from the air, suddenly clean and weightless in his lungs once more. His cheeks were wet with tears and he scrubbed them away, the crushing panic fading away as the press of that hateful magic vanished altogether. 

 

In its wake Wind would have been left embarrassed and more than a little alarmed by how badly it had affected him, had he not felt the same sentiment reflected back from the others. 

 

Wait- no, only Sky and Wild, Four and Hyrule gone silent at last. Wind pushed himself up, reassured when his arms didn’t shake this time, head lifting to find Four budged up next to him.

 

And another Four curled half underneath the first, and a third, and a fourth.

 

The fifth was different, but present all the same, his features just as fine as Four’s even if his hair was dark as a raven’s wing and his skin a paler cast.

 

What the fuck. 

 

Wind was distantly aware of the others talking and moving, but all he could do was stare confusedly at the pile of Fours, all of them unconscious and utterly still, unlike the Smithy’s earlier fevered flailing. 

 

“-are the others alright?” He heard one of the sheikah ask, and it jolted him into action, the memory of Four’s struggling and screams ringing loud in his ears through the heavy silence of the aftermath. 

 

“Uhm hold on, holy shit , okay,” he coaxed himself, hands jumping to check that all the Fours - what the hell what the hell - were okay. He paused on the green one for a moment, thinking for a moment that it was the original Smithy, only to realize as he turned him to his back that nope, the tunic was a solid color. So were the others, though the embroidery remained; blue, red, purple, and black, which what the hell , that wasn’t even on the original tunic? 

 

They were, thankfully enough, actually better than Four alone had been before midnight hit. Still a bit warm, but nowhere near the vicious fever that their smallest member had been fighting, and their features -all the same, all familiar- were relaxed, their rest peaceful. They seemed almost asleep, with no signs of distress in their even breaths. 

 

It was an eerie switch from Four’s abysmal condition a minute ago, and Wind didn't trust it at all.

 

“I think they’re all fine; they’re passed out but their heartbeats are normal,” he called back, eyebrows quirked suspiciously but relieved all the same. He gave a breathy squeak of a laugh again at the sight of five Fours all sprawled around him, because really, “What the fuck though, what the fuck?” 

 

The others were distracted though, and Wind was left to try to handle his hysterical confusion alone amongst a pile of his brother. Sky and the sheikah were fluttering over Wild, but the concern was tamped enough that it didn’t seem to be an emergency, so the Sailor turned to his own problem. He carefully helped lay each of the little figures to rest on their backs rather than the boneless sprawl they’d been in, scattered as if Four had just popped apart, sending each of the multiples falling away.

 

Look, Wind didn’t remember anything like that happening, but in his defense, he’d been very distracted himself. Still, the others’ continued ignorance of the very weird very alarming issue was growing both increasingly frustrating and hilarious. The Sailor testingly shook the shoulder of the blue one, but they were out cold. There was nothing weird from Four’s mind, because there was currently nothing whatsoever there; just the normal blank presence of unconsciousness, unhelpful except in confirming that wherever Four was or whatever had happened, he was at least present in some sense of the word, even if it was scattered across five bodies. 

 

He turned his attention to the most curious of the figures then, the dark one who was a color shifted version of their Smithy. Of them all, he seemed to be a little worse off than the others, looking thinner and more exhausted in a way the other four didn’t. 

 

Wind was pulled away from his curiosity as he overheard Wild saying it was Warriors he’d brought back, looking round the room once more to verify that no, the Captain hadn’t snuck in while he’d been focused on the too-many Fours issue- and okay, maybe now it made more sense that no one had noticed yet. His wandering gaze caught that of the female sheikah -no… Paya! That was it!- as she answered that Wars was hurt but getting care before pausing to stare blankly at the colorful bodies around him, lips slightly parted and eyes wide before she blinked and promptly seemed to decide it Wasn’t Her Problem, looking quickly away from his accusing, please help me gaze and stammering out some excuse before darting from the room. 

 

Fine. Great. 

 

Then Sky’s voice rose in sharp disbelief, and Wild gave an airy wave of the hand as he lilted “It was a while ago,” in that dreamy voice of his. 

 

Oh please. 

 

“You’ve been gone an hour and a half! That’s not long at all!” Wind called over, because if he had to endure countless scoldings about being more careful then like hell was Wild getting away with such a weak excuse. Besides, with Legend gone, someone had to make sure to call everyone out on their bullshit, and Wind was more than happy to step up.

 

Sky seemed to agree, bristling as the Champion scrambled to soothe his ruffled feathers. Then Paya was back, handing off a red potion to be fed to a disturbingly limp Wild, who despite his arguments didn’t seem to be doing well at all. Sky helped hold him up as he drank it, and it was only then that he finally took the time to properly look over at Wind and Four. 

 

And Four, and Four, and Four, and Four , if he’d gotten his hands on squid ink.

 

Sky’s face froze in alarm, lips dropping open to softly demand, “What the hell?”

 

Wind gets it- he’d been there too just a little while ago, but by virtue of being ignored for the last few minutes he’s already way ahead of the other so far as acceptance goes, having moved past the initial what the fuckedness and on to how the fuckedness. 

 

Wild’s voice drifted over as well, asking the obvious: “Why… are there five of Four?”

 

Yeah, why indeed . Four of Four would be weird enough, but either their Smithy was playing a 3D chess game with his name or something weirder than even Four knew of had happened under their noses. 

 

Sky flung a hand in the direction of a shrugging Wind and his army of tiny, conked out heroes. “I don’t know!” He said, and seeing him so frazzled by a couple of unconscious bodies was perhaps a little funny. “Wind?!”

 

Ope, oh no, blame for this does not get laid on him. The Sailor waved his arms in denial, yelping, “Don’t ask me! He just fell apart as the blood moon hit, I don’t know any more than you do!”

 

Sky finally snapped out of his surprise, frowning as he turned to Wild, looking for answers at the event end of things, then. “Was it the dark magic at midnight, do you think? And… is that a Dark ?” This was added with a haphazard finger pointing in their direction, his tone somewhere between mild concern and much confusion, all of them turning to look at the purple haired Four with varying degrees of curiosity and suspicion. 

 

Literally none of them had any experience with their darks for any kind of basis, unless Wild was just faking that wide-eyed fascination and utter confusion at the term. The little guy didn’t look evil? Just sick, really. Just as young-faced and seemingly innocent as Four appeared, and his skin was a normal enough hylian tone, not the dark ash of the one Dark they all knew. 

 

Sky continued on thoughtfully, speaking less now to Wild than trying to puzzle out the oddity of it all. “Could a blood moon make your own magic go haywire? I’ve wondered if Four had any, and if it was something like this his name would make sense, as well as that of his sword. The fifth could be a fluke, darkness spawned from the blood moon...”  He finally rose and glanced over Wild to make sure he wouldn’t keel over or do anything like Hylia forbid stand up while unattended before wandering for a closer look. 

 

Wild and Dorian continued to discuss the possible effects of the returned blood moon on a foreign hero’s magic, and Sky knelt by the mysterious figure, checking him over like Wind had and frowning unhappily at the signs of illness on a face so like Four’s, wary but worried all the same. “He doesn’t feel wrong at all. The others said their Darks were all the worst parts of them, but this one just feels like another reflection in the same way the other four do.”. 

 

Wind’s not sure what that’s all about, but he can say that this little figure didn’t invoke any kind of bad feeling in him, and after the way the midnight magic had flayed his senses he was sure he’d recognize the flavor of malicious magic right in front of him. 

 

Sky hummed, frowning. “We would know if he was a Dark, right? I thought they had gray skin? Do they just… spawn when there’s enough magic, even? Or was this one tainted by the blood moon, maybe? He does look ill…” He looked to Wind as if for help, but the Sailor shrugged, just as clueless as Sky was.

  

 

“I dunno, I’ve never met one either” Wind admitted, scratching the back of his head; he hadn’t thought of it being just another Four sick from all that magic, didn't know enough on it to weigh in, but that just made him feel guilty for what he said next. “We should do what Wild said and tie him up though, just in case.” Better to be safe than sorry, he reminded himself, and better to apologize than to be taken unawares by a Dark in their midst. 

 

Besides, he could secure them in a way that… wasn’t so harsh, maybe. The thought of taking a victim of dark magic, already ill and wearing the face of his brother, and restraining them, the fear they’d feel upon waking-

 

No, it’d be okay- Wind would keep them safe and the little one comfortable. 

Sky frowned but nodded his agreement, fingers lingering under the possible Dark’s jaw where he’d been checking their pulse, pausing to arrange his limbs into a more comfortable position even though Wind had already done that, the incorrigible mother cucco.  The worry faded some as he continued to check on each of the little Fours, doubling back once more to the dark one and frowning anew as he felt along their ribs for injury. 

 

Sky kept up an impressive round of magical conversation with Wild as he fluttered over them, Wind shadowing behind him as he went to work moving the Fours to the bed as Sky gave each the silent okay, incrementally settling the last of the rampant worry that had been curling in Wind’s belly, that maybe something was still wrong and he hadn’t noticed. 

 

It could be yet, but at least the Fours weren’t as sick or hurting as before. It wasn’t much, not when before had been a storm of dark magic and all the pain that involved, but also yeah, it actually meant a lot to see them all relaxed once more, painless and calm.  

 

The look-alikes fit on the bed together without issue, and goddess damn it but Four wouldn’t even care if Wind teased him about it, the little hero giving not a single shit about the other’s poking fun at his height.  Though he did have to have them pair up on each pillow, cuddling them together to make enough room to ensure they weren’t too close to the edge and tucking the edge of the blankets around them for further security. 

 

Wind surveyed his work for any gaps in containment and turned to the fifth Four. He got a thick, warm blanket and wrapped it around the little figure, in a careful binding swaddle that tucked his limbs in a loose curl close to his body before going to his bag and hauling out some rope- he always had some, one of a few of the Chain who perpetually kept some on hand, along with Twilight and Legend. 

 

He wound it carefully around the little blanket burrito, ensuring it was snug but not stifling. Unlike the others, this one’s skin was almost too cool, adding even more weight to Sky’s infection theory. And Wind… couldn't just leave a sick Four on the ground, could he? There was no room on the bed anymore-

 

He paused, hand on his chin, considering the bed anew.

 

There was, actually, he realized with a grin. Four and his clones were all equally short, and that left ample space at the foot of the bed made to comfortably accommodate adult men. He carefully lifted the last Four and settled him to curl at the base of the mattress, stealing a pillow from Hyrule’s bed and arranging him carefully on his side, worriedly checking that he was breathing fine still despite the bindings. 

 

His ear perked towards the others as panic ran across Wild’s bond, though, the Champion finally realizing what Wind and Sky had already been freaking out over; the uncertainty of exactly how helpless the blood moon could have left those not yet in the safety of the village, if any of them had reacted as poorly to it as Hyrule or Four had. 

 

Honestly, Wild’s Hyrule had no chill, and neither did its hero .

 

But the explanation for the range of reactions being the sensitivity made the most sense. Why else would the three of them be fine, when Four and Hyrule were completely taken out? Those two were much more gifted than him and Sky, as Legend had not so gently broken it to him. Which, that’s fine, so long as he could use the Wind Waker he had magical talent enough for him. And Wild’s already said he didn’t have any magic that he knew of either, and he was already up again, even despite the injuries it seemed he’d garnered saving Warriors.

 

Speaking of the Captain- Wind could feel him nearby, though unconscious still. That was worrisome, since if they were right about the blood moon then as a magical dud he shouldn’t have been knocked out by the dark magic. Since he wasn’t up, that meant his injuries had been what put him down for the count, and with what was going on with the Chain and Wild nothing but a serious wound would keep Warriors out of the game. He was getting care, though, and so Wind would check on him in just a minute, as soon as they hashed out what Wild should do, was capable of doing in his current state of tenuous health.

 

The Champion and Sky were still trying to figure out how badly the remaining heroes may have been hit, judging on their magic. ”How much do the others have? Are they all like Hyrule?” Wild asked, which was hilarious , though he couldn’t have known it. None of the rest of them came anywhere near Hyrule in terms of skill or power, between the healing and the battle magic and oh yeah, the fact that he could transform into a magical creature ?

 

Sky was gentler than Wind’s subtle snort, though. “His magic comes from fairy ancestry, so it’s unique even among us.” 

 

Wind finished the others off for him, because there’d been plenty of speculation and nudging for placings in various who’s better at what contests. “Time knows some spells, and I think his masks are magic too. Legend has a lot, but Twilight’s got nothing. Not even any magic gear, I don’t think.” He gave a helpless shrug, then, because it was hardly his fault that so many of their group held their secrets close to their chests.  

 

Sky got shifty eyes immediately, though, and Wind honed in on it instantly, curiosity piqued as the other avoided eye contact hard and murmured, “Twi would have been hit pretty hard as well.” 

 

And Wind’s interest was immediately lit aflame.

 

Now why would he say that, when Twi was literally easily at the bottom of every list they’d ever made for magicapacity? Wind shifted, but ultimately opted to put it on the back burner for now, gazing absently over the Fours as he spotted the blue one’s hand shift a little, prompting the Sailor to edge closer and rest a hand atop the other’s. 

 

In the meantime, Wild had gone still and pale- more so than he already had been that is, and wow, now that Wind was paying attention their Champion looked like shit . In the day and a half since Wind met him he’d lost a terrifying amount of weight. The young hero knew what that meant when it happened this fast, because some dungeons took a couple of hard, gory runs to complete, and who among the heroes hasn’t had that moment of startled realization at the toll repeated rapid healings took? It wasn’t hard to figure out, not when he’d seen Wild down several potions in a row, been present while Sky and Hyrule forced even more upon him. 

 

Potion overuse aside though, Wild looked caught between fear and disassociation, and the distant panic faintly felt across the bond only cemented the fact that something was going on. Whatever it was though, the Champion tucked it away before Wind or Sky could ask, inhaling sharply and rising.  “No time to lose, then,” he said a touch too sharply, anxiety written all across those too narrow shoulders.

 

Yeah, like that’ll work . Wind looked to Sky, who was already on the job and watching Wild with a dangerous calm.  “You can’t be serious. You haven’t even told us what happened with Warriors yet!” Sky’s normally calm baritone rolled out laced with rarely seen irritation, the Skyloftian leaning in towards Wild and only punctuating how small and ill their newest companion looked at the moment. Wind spared a moment to panic at the implication that they really had been in true danger before getting back, reaching once more to check on the soft, unconscious presence of Warriors nearby, just to make sure he was still alright. 

 

Sky’s voice was a warning as he went on, each word bitten out softly,  “Not to mention you were just having heart problems? Remember that? From five minutes ago , Wild?” 

 

Now that was news to Wind. So much for Wild being alright, then- he must be worse off then he looks. That didn’t stop him from trying to argue the point, though, for all that doing so ever worked against Sky when he was in a ‘if you won’t look out for yourself I will’ kind of mood. Wild shook the wrist Sky was clamped around and had the balls to sound exasperated as he said, “You can feel for yourself that it’s fine now, Sky. If everyone who’s left could be in anything resembling Hyrule’s condition, then whoever’s on the island shrine is dangerously vulnerable right now, especially since they wouldn’t know it resurrected the monsters.” 

 

Wild’s shoulders slumped, and he sent a gentle look to Wind before kneeling in front of Sky, giving him a tired, crooked grin. “I’m almost done, now. So don’t worry- I’ve got most of the tough ones out of the way, yeah?” 

 

And just like that the spell broke, because if that wasn’t begging to be proven wrong, Wind didn’t know what was. “Don’t jinx yourself Wild, don’t you know better?!” He hissed fiercely at them, as if maybe fate wouldn’t hear him if he kept it quiet. His worries garnered him an impish smirk from the Champion, but the heavy worry had faded to something less stifling, for better or for worse. 

 

Wild began to pack up, then, and some stirring amongst the pack of Fours snagged Wind’s attention, though a quick check confirmed it was less them waking then a shift from unconsciousness to sleep. The dark haired Four bundled in the blanket burrito was still firmly out, though, showing no signs whatsoever of rousing any time soon, same as the peacefully sprawled Hyrule on the other bed. 

 

Wild made his goodbyes right away, and Wind was heartened as the Champion wandered over to haul him into a tight hug. The gladness of such open affection was immediately stifled by the way Wild’s arms shook at the effort of hugging the Sailor so hard, though, and he pulled away as Wind’s own hold loosened in alarm, stepping back with that thrice damned stone in hand. 

 

Something shivered across the bond, a feeling very small and afraid in the way Wild’s stormhead on the horizon looming like a wave-fingers slipping on a climb, catching just in time skimmed across the edge of Wind’s mind. Then the familiar light came up to take the Champion away, and the fear broke over his face and across their connection like a wash of icy water, potent and paralyzing.

 

Wind was frozen by it for the second he had to help, snapping into motion to reach out, mind and body surging to help whatever was wrong, too late -

 

Wild was gone, and all Wind knew was that he’d been terrified as he left. 

 

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Sky POV:

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“Okay,” Sky said shakily in the wake of Wild’s departure, the fear on the other’s face as he disappeared branded into his mind, their bond silent now that he’d gone but the memory of the lashing, mindless panic scalding like a burn where he’d been. An echo of it rang across Wind’s mind now, too, and their youngest immediately turned to face him, sharing a worried look, hands still upraised where he’d made a too-late lunge to reach for the Champion

 

That overwhelming fear was something he’d felt far too often from Wild already between the blood moon and the multiple narrow escapes so far, and Sky’s heart withered in pain at the realization. It made sense, given the situation they were all in, scattered across an unfamiliar world without warning or preparation, but the worst of it was that there was nothing he could do to make it easier for Wild past being there to help patch him up only to send him off once more. 

 

Now, he was left with the battered half of the Chain, and no idea what to do to make any of it better. Start… start simple, then. Hyrule was out cold still, but he didn’t seem to be in pain any more now that the blood moon had passed, only exhausted yet from being overwhelmed by so much dark magic. Even Sky had felt sick from it, and he was many degrees less sensitive to it than their fairy-born healer. For now though, he seemed stable, and the Traveler would know best what will help once he wakes up. 

 

Four was… an interesting conundrum, right now. All five of him, really; and Wind was feeling cheeky , wasn’t he, snuggling them all together like that, with the fifth far enough to be safe but close still. Sky very much approved of the gentler restraint approach their pirate had opted to use; this one in particular seemed ill, and while Sky would always do what needed to be done he loathed mistreatment, and this seemed to wander uncomfortably close to the edge of that. Unlike the colorful individuals, this one was thinner, the shade of his skin pallid compared to Four’s healthy glow across the others, and if Sky was right about him only having been worse affected by the dark magic then he was a victim and nothing else. 

 

Sky sat on the edge of the bed, brushing back the dark hair and noting how cold the skin was under his fingers, though his pulse was as reassuringly steady as before. Unlike Wild’s, jittering along and jumping between too rapid and far too long pauses in a way that did Sky’s own heart no favors. It had steadied, yes, but the scale weighing out Wild’s clearly suffering health against the remaining Chain was fast tipping a way their Champion wasn’t going to like one bit. 

 

The Skyloftian nudged testingly at his bond with Four, but they were all unconscious and reading blank, not even enough there to yet discern if there were truly five minds at the other end of the connection to match the number of bodies. So he instead turned his attention to what faint sense of magic he did possess; only the barest ability to gauge the balance of light and dark magic. 

 

He’d grown up accustomed to Sun’s brilliant purity, only later finding out why, exactly, she’d so easily outshone anyone else he’d ever met. Most people though, were a balance, some shade of gray. The feel of this final Four was much closer to the darker tones of Wolfie or Ravio’s auras, though similarly lacking in any malice or ill intent, because if there’s one thing Sky had learned it's that darker magic doesn’t mean bad, and light doesn’t mean good. 

 

He has no idea what it does mean, but Groose was the darkest-magic individual on Skyloft, and he’d proven fully well that under all the bluster and fronting he had a good heart and more loyalty than was necessarily safe. And Hylia knows, Sky’s pure white aura did nothing to stop her from pulling pranks and kicking ass, sometimes without waiting to make sure it was warranted. 

 

So no, he didn’t think this one was a Dark, but the evidence was too damning to completely discard the possibility, if purely for the sake of pragmatism. 

 

And that brought them to their most recently returned brother, for whom the knowledge that he was injured was woefully insufficient after the states all the others had been returning in. So, first order of business- check on Warriors to get the full scope of his condition. 

 

 “Would you keep an eye on him, Wind? I’m going to go check on the Captain,” Sky asked, preferring the Sailor to stay here in case it was bad and bloody; there was no need to risk traumatizing their youngest with nightmare material, not if they didn’t have to. 

 

Usually, there was no choice, but here? Wind looked ready to argue, until he glanced back over at the dark Four, hesitating before a pout broke over his face. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Sky. You can’t just assign me to be the babysitter while you go off and handle everything!” Sky blinked dolefully at him, and Wind’s lips pursed together before he huffed in defeat, folding like wet paper under the full force of that innocent, silent plea. “Yeah, yeah , fine , I’ll stay here with them. Go make sure Wars’ is gonna be okay, and then drag him back here, alright?”

 

The Skyloftian quirked a smile. “We can’t all nine of us end up in the same room, Wind. There’s nowhere for him to rest in here, but I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him,” Sky said good-naturedly, giving the young hero a side hug and warm mental brush before leaving the room, the affable easy-going smile dropping from his face the instant the door closed and he turned down the hall. His strides were sharp and fast, and then he was looking in on the Sheikah surrounding a prone Warriors, still unconscious. 

 

“How is he?” Sky demanded, wasting no time moving to join them at the Captain’s bedside, immediately taking up a listless hand and clasping it, noting how cold it was, the way Warriors’ hair was still damp; he’d be downright exasperated if he saw the way his natural curls were being allowed to form as it dried. 

 

The way the Sheikah had it parted aside to probe at his skull wasn’t helping, and he felt his heart sink in trepidation at the frowns on their faces as they began to apply a poultice to a dangerous looking bruised bump. Still, as painful as the bloodied gash looked, Sky knew it was the internal damage that was far more important to gauging how bad off Wars was. “The biggest concern is the head injury, which looks to have been exacerbated by repeated blows to the head,” one of the healers said calmly, gesturing towards the bruises along Warriors’ temple and jaw, as if Sky could have missed the signs of suffering across his brother’s pale skin. More bruises were coming into vicious color across his ribs and hips as well, dark smudges spattering his form.  

 

“How bad is it?” He asked fearfully, gripping Warriors’ hand tighter, eyes pinning on the shallow breathing that could be the injured ribs or a brain bleed. “Do you have a fairy? Does he need one?” 

 

“We don’t, and we haven’t been able to get him to swallow any hearty elixir,” Pikango said, face neutral even though his red eyes were distinctly pinched at the corners. “Though, Paya said… you’re heroes, yes?”

 

“We are,” Sky promptly confirmed, making direct and intense eye contact that the older man met unflinchingly. 

 

“There’s a rumor of a Great Fairy above the village- no one had ever found it, and I searched the woods all around and never found a sign of anything, but Link-

 

“Link told me that he’d seen it, had spoken to the Great Fairy herself. Showed me a picture of it, too big to have missed unless it was hidden from all but those blessed to find it. If he could find it though, you should be able to as well, and there were fairies near it. If you can find the fount, you’ll be able to get a fairy for him.” He turned to Warriors, grunting. 

 

“Your friend may not truly need it- Link never said how he was injured, or if he’d already awoken or not, and there’s no asking him now that he’s gone off half-cocked again. But head wounds are tricky things, and even if there’s no sign of serious brain damage now, they can take a turn quickly.” To reinforce his words he pulled Warriors’ eyelids up, exposing the evenly sized pupils that proved for now, at least, he wasn’t in great danger.

 

Sky straightened up, nodding once as he stood. “I understand. Do you know anything more of the fountain’s location?” 

 

Pikango shook his head, but was helpful nonetheless. “I never asked, knowing that I never stood a chance myself of breaking through the charms hiding it. It’s past the shrine atop the hill, I know, but I would follow the left fork first; Link never said anything about it being near the other shrine, the one you arrived on,” he said with a nod towards Sky, who dipped his chin in acknowledgement. 

 

“But the forest isn’t large, and in the picture there was a cliff rising behind it. I’ll send someone in to keep an eye on the other heroes, if you want to take the little one with you- he looked like he could stand to feel useful,” Pikango said suggestively, giving Sky a shrewd side eye as he rested a hand on Warriors’ pulse. There was nothing left to do but finish wrapping his head and monitor him, now, and wait for him to wake up and take some healing potion. 

 

The old healer was right, though. The Sheikah could be entrusted with their unconscious companions; Sky needed Wind to help look for the fountain. 

 

The little Sailor reacted just how Sky had expected; thrilled to be of use, and immediately and devastatingly concerned for Warriors. The worst part was, the young knight couldn’t even properly promise that the Captain would be alright, not without it feeling like a lie. Wind was young, not stupid, and empty placations were no comfort to him. 

 

Doing something to directly help find a solution, though? That brightened him, lit a determined spark in his eyes as he practically dragged Sky out of the village towards the shrine he’d apparently first arrived at. 

 

The moon was full and white above them, the crimson tint having bled away at midnight, leaving no sign of the nightmare less than a half hour past. They ran up the ramp, Wind slowing just enough to dance antsily around in front of the panting Skyloftian as he visibly bit back demands for Sky to move faster- by now they were all more than aware of his limitations, and the dangers of pushing him too far past them. 

 

He was still impressed with Wind’s self control, though, considering he was feeling rather furious at his own frustrating lack of stamina himself. They passed the first shrine, the electricity around it having slowly died as time passed, leaving a dully glowing temple that both of them regardless gave a wide berth to. Up the path, they caught a blue flash of light that darted into an undergrowth as they ran on, but once it had vanished there was no further sign of it or any danger. An odd flagged arch passed overhead, and both of the heroes slowed as they surveyed the very faint fork ahead, looking warily around for whatever the odd glowing creature had been. 

 

“Look! There’s another one, along the left path!” Wind whispered, already drawing his weapon and crouching, eyes narrowed and predatory. Sky followed suit, but hung back as the smaller, sneakier Sailor crept forward, sheltering behind a clump of ferns to hide his larger bulk and pale sailcloth. Then the blue light hopped closer to them, meandering about without worry, and that-

 

That was a rabbit, though just as odd a one as Legend had been. Yellow eared and blue furred and glowing , it nibbled the grass, ignorant of the way Wind turned around to point at it as he mouthed ‘Are you seeing this?” to Sky, before promptly standing and sprinting towards it, waving his sword harmlessly in the air. The little creature jumped straight up in alarm before running back and forth as the Sailor advanced, finally turning tail and dashing off as he got nearly close enough to catch it. Sky could tell Wind wasn’t trying to do so, but he understood the appeal- though, as it ran his way, he was immediately and disturbingly made aware of the odd owl like face, with large, orange glowing eyes before it noticed him and zig zagged away into the shrubbery in a mess of bright sparkles. 

 

Okay, then. At least it seemed harmless, if more than a little odd to look at. Probably not something they’d want to hunt, at the very least, considering the luminescent shine and possible holy nature of the creature.

 

“Sky! I found it!” Wind shouted from farther ahead, having wasted no time moving onward. Sky didn’t have to go far to see what the yonder hero meant, though; the warm light of the fairy fountain was easy to see in the dark of the night, and far, far easier to find than he’d ever dared hope. It took the form of a large, luscious petaled flower, adorned with mushrooms and -most importantly- surrounded by a handful of fairies dancing above the waters it nestled in. 

 

Wind was already trading his sword for a bottle, and Sky did the same, eyes tracing over the four fairies there. They had enough bottles, thankfully, Wind having happily borrowed a few from Four’s bag under the close supervision of Sky to ensure none of the Smithy’s more interesting knick knacks got ferreted away for Wind’s later examination. 

 

Sky would like to say that they had an even catch, but the truth is that in the time it took him to carefully, quietly edge his way towards the farthest fairy -all too aware of how little they could afford to risk scaring them away without Time around to sweet talk them back- and wait for the nearest fairy to move far enough away to not be startled by the first’s capture with one deft swing of his net, Wind was already two down. By the time he finished coaxing the little fairy into the bottle, the Sailor was just popping the cork on the third fairy, holding her up and smiling as she flitted playfully around before settling good-naturedly to lounge within its confines and cushioning enchantment.

 

Sky tucked his fairy into his bag, sending a long, considering look at the fountain before turning away from it. Wind bounced over, setting one foot at the bottom-most mushroom-comprised step. “Are we going to talk to her?” He checked, practically vibrating with curiosity. 

 

The Skyloftian bit his lip but shook his head. “The fairies we have should be enough to heal Warriors and the others if they need it- talking to her can probably wait until later, when more of us are up and doing better. I don’t want to leave the Captain with that head wound for any longer than necessary,” he admitted, and winced as the Sailor’s focus immediately snapped away from the fountain to focus on him, dark eyes wide. 

 

“Did he really look that bad?” Wind asked, voice steady but undeniably afraid; and he didn’t, Sky hadn’t lied to him earlier, but he may have leaned more on the optimism of Warriors’ likely recovery instead of on the inherent uncertainty of head wounds, and Wind had been shaken at even that. He was already moving away from the soft lull of the fountain’s magic, grabbing Sky’s hand as he passed him and speeding back to the village without a backwards glance. “Sky, come on! I know you’ve got at least one more good sprint left in you!” He goaded, already dead set once more on getting back to Kakariko ASAP.

 

Sky did not have another long sprint left in him, not really, not after the dash here , but for Warriors, he certainly did his best.

 

It was nowhere near acceptable to the Sailor; Wind wasted no time leaving him in the dust, darting ahead with all the boundless energy and single-minded drive of a youth on a mission. By the time Sky made it to the inn, drooping for a second to gasp over the staircase handrail before hauling himself up the steps, Wind was already in Warriors’ room. 

 

He’d popped out a fairy, and it seems she’d done her thing by the time Sky entered, already flitting out the window with a farewell chime, likely to go right back to the fountain again to recharge. Then Warriors groaned, and Sky summoned just enough energy to race to the bed, barely skidding to a stop to avoid jostling it as the Captain stirred at last, complexion already much improved even if the bruises still lingered in colorful swathes. With bigger, more dangerous injuries to take care of, the fairy wouldn’t have wasted her magic on them, and their lingering existence made Sky nearly limp with relief that they’d gone to get her help, that they’d been lucky enough to have a fairy fountain so very close by. Sky leaned in to unwrap the bandages swathed around that pale blonde head, before stopping to rest a hand on Warriors’ cheek as bleary blue eyes opened to blink up at him.

 

Sky’s face softened from its concern immediately, a gentle, glad smile stretching across his face like the sun after a rain shower. “Hey, Wars-” was all he got out before Pikango shoved him aside with a strength that was surprising considering the leanness of the older man and by how much Sky’s muscled mass -perhaps more padded than most of the other heroes, admittedly- outweighed him. 

 

The pointy elbows and their invasion into his ribcage may have had something to do with his success, and Sky only hoped Wind wasn’t taking notes at how well it worked.

 

“Move, then- you did your part, now let me do mine again. There’s a good lad, you can stay, you’re not in the way” Pikango added to Wind in a much kinder voice before giving Sky a warning look that had him taking another step back. 

 

Pikango undid the bandages with practiced speed and carefully tilted Warriors’ head to the side, speaking to the Captain the whole time, Wind clutching a hand that was holding just as tight back. The sheikah poked at Warriors’ skull, but other than a faint scrunch of his nose, their brother seemed unbothered by it. The vicious lump and gash from before was gone without a mark, the bruise along his jaw still dark even as the conspicuous absence of the pooled blood at his temple hinted that it hadn’t been so harmless as it had seemed.

 

“Look at me,” the old man requested, and Warriors focused easily on him, a patient smile on his face, looking perfectly relaxed- mostly as a show for Wind, whose relief was currently buffeting the Sky’s bond with him. Between the two of them and the intensity of the emotion, chances were even Warriors could feel it, from the shapeless happy feeling coming from him that was likely supposed to be comforting.  

 

Finally, Pikango let Sky take his place by the bedside, immediately snatching up the Captain’s free hand as it rose to clap his arm in a consolatory pat. Warriors sent him a sleepy grin and immediately leveraged their clasped hands to pull himself up into a sitting position, fine hair tousled in a way that Wind wasted no time worsening with a two-handed ruffle, though it escaped no one’s notice that he very much avoided the injured site that Pikango had been looking at. 

 

His own way of making sure Warriors was really recovered, probably; their Sailor was getting sneakier by the day, it seemed. 

 

“How are you feeling, Cap?” Sky inquired gently, taking in how tired the other appeared; not an uncommon side effect of fairy healing, albeit one that often only hit after the adrenaline from a fight had faded. 

 

Warriors testingly shifted his body in increments, flexing his legs and arms to check responsiveness, before answering honestly. “Tired, sore, and a little battered still, but functional.” He blinked at them, then squinted off to the side in thought. “Shouldn’t there be more of you? I thought Wild said-”

 

Those bright blue eyes sharpened from their previous sleepiness, scanning the room before landing back on Sky. “Where’s Wild?” He demanded, shifting as if to get out of bed himself. 

 

“Four and Hyrule are in the other room, still recovering from the moon,” Wind said, neatly side-stepping their state of consciousness; it was likely Wars couldn’t sense them as they were. “Wild left again already- but don’t worry! He wasn’t too badly hurt, or Sky would’ve never let him go,” Wind added brightly, even though there was a distinctly worried cast to his face he couldn’t hide. Said concern didn’t escape Warriors’ attention, and he frowned at them both. 

 

“He really wasn’t in any shape to keep going while we were on the spiral,” he said suspiciously, though the way his glare shifted to aim at the wall instead of Sky implied that he was more frustrated with Wild than the Skyloftian. 

 

Spiral? The peninsula Wild had told them about, lined with monsters all the way out. “Wars, what happened? The Champion didn’t take the time to tell us before running off again as soon as we shoved a red potion down his throat; the blood moon had him highly concerned about the others still out there and how it might have left them,” Sky said, expression somber. 

 

Warriors straightened up, regal as a king even though he was shirtless in bed. “You first- how are you, how exactly are Four and Rule, and what do you know of this whole mess?” His voice brokered no hesitation, Sky promptly and gladly spilled all the information he had. 

 

It wasn’t much, considering Wild’s tendency to skim over only the most important facts and scamper off before they could question him for further clarification. Apparently that was right in character though, because the Sheikah here didn’t know much more either, though some of them seemed friendly with the hero. 

 

Warriors was satisfied by it all, if ever so slightly frustrated by the gaps and shallow depth of some of the info, particularly on Wild himself and his adventures. The reason for his lower than usual standard of acceptable report was made clear very quickly as he went to fill them in on his end of things. It seemed that multiple head traumas, terrible visibility, and repeated electrocutions had done their Captain’s normally impeccable memory no favors- what he recalled was hazy in some spots and jumbled in others. He could guess at the order of some of the events before Wild had arrived, but much of his and the Champion’s escape and some of their conversation beforehand was indistinct or gone altogether. 

 

He had no clue how Wild had gotten them out; last thing he knew there had been a horse -which he had no explanation for whatsoever- and before that only the vague feeling of fighting, though whether it had been the battle between the stal creatures or the moblin or a random octorok that had taken him out he couldn’t tell, not from the tangled timeline of his recollection.

 

It didn’t matter, though, because what he did recall was enough to know that it had been a shit show, and that neither he nor Wild had gotten out of it unscathed. Warriors had recounted how he met Wild, and that and Sky’s own description of the lingering heart issues the Champion had been experiencing left some very unhappy heroes waiting for his return. 

 

By the end of it Warriors was nearly nodding off where he sat, practically smothering Wind where the Sailor had budged up next to him on the bed as he slowly but surely leaned farther and farther over and onto the smaller hero. He grumpily obliged their settling him to lay back down, waving off offers to join the other room when Sky admitted he’d have to share with Hyrule. 

 

“I won’t intrude on the Traveler’s sickbed,” he said wryly, “Not when there’s plenty of space here. Might as well enjoy my own room while I still can.”

 

He snorted in reply. “You know just as well as I do that Hyrule would love to have someone to cuddle with, unconscious or not. But fine, we’ll leave you your peace- may it be short-lived,” he said bittersweetly. 

 

Warriors squinted up at Sky’s melancholic stature balefully from where Wind was piling the blankets onto him, heedless of the Captain’s distracted hand flapping to ward him off. He wasted no time doing what he did best and keeping the mood up and clear from despair. “Not too much peace! Keep me updated when they wake up or if anything happens- hopefully by tomorrow we’ll all be better off.” He broke off in a yawn, shaking his head a little in an attempt to clear it as he tried to speak through the tail end of it. “They’re keeping an eye on the shrine? For when Wild gets back?” He checked, wriggling as Sky tucked the edges of the covers around him to keep him snugged in place. 

 

“ Yes , Wars, now go to sleep. If we need you before morning, we’ll wake you up, I promise,” Sky swore, resting a hand on the Captain’s shoulder and watching as he sighed, blinking heavily before finally closing his eyes. The Skyloftian checked again as he closed the door, pausing with it cracked to make sure Warriors wasn’t faking him out, but by the slack features and manner in which he’d buried his nose into the blankets, he was already out again, exhausted by the fairy’s healing. 

 

Good, Warriors needed it. 

 

He wasn’t the only one, either. It was already early morning, the sunrise hours off yet, and neither he nor Wind had slept at all. Last night hadn’t been much better for Sky, worried when Wild had been gone so long, and rightfully so, considering that his jaunt through the desert had nearly killed him. Everyone was tired or already passed out, and that meant another sleepless night for Sky, keeping watch despite how badly he longed to just pass out on a bed for hours of reprieve from this nightmare. 

 

If that didn’t prove he’d do anything for his brothers, he doesn’t know what does. 

 

“Sky, I can stay up! It’s not fair that you’re taking watch again; you did it last night too!” Wind argued, pretty valiantly for a kid so blatantly exhausted by the non-stop worry and mere hours of sleep he’d gotten over the last two days, exacerbated by his age. 

 

“Wind, I’ll be fine- and honestly, I probably wouldn’t sleep for worrying anyways. There’s no reason for you to stay up too.” Not even a lie, that. For all his exhaustion, his mind was racing, and there was no room for restfulness amongst his speeding thoughts and flurrying concerns.

 

The sailor frowned heavily at him. “The bags under your eyes are worse than usual,” he accused, and Sky grimaced, because he knew it was true from the dry, gritty feeling every time he blinked and the puffy skin that met his fingertips as he felt at them. 

 

Sky huffed through his nose, though- no point denying it. “Maybe so, but that doesn’t change anything,” he asserted, before adding something he knew Wind wouldn’t be able to pass up. ”If it makes you feel better, by tomorrow night not even concern’ll be able to keep me up, so you’ll get your chance to gloat over my slumbering body then, one way or another.” He kept his tone wry so it was clear it was a joke, and that he wasn’t actually in danger of passing out from exhaustion. 

 

Not yet, anyways. Tomorrow might not be a far off guess, actually…  

 

Wind perked up at the promise of an opportunity for heckling though, squinting at him suspiciously before nodding. “I’m going to ‘I told you so’ so hard, Sky, you’ll be lucky if you don’t wake up with a mustache drawn on you,” he warned, grinning predatorily. 

 

Sky nodded along to the (hopefully) empty threat, watching the Sailor retreat back to Warriors’ room to sleep on the spare bed in there despite the afore promised peace, before turning his eyes to the others, settling in to wait. Hyrule shuffled around, gradually shifting to sleep and spreading out accordingly, splayed across the mattress for lack of anyone to press against. The many Fours stirred restlessly over the course of the next few hours, some of them blinking awake for a few moments before drifting off once more, snuggling in closer or wriggling free of the blankets and overwhelming heat of four bodies so close together. 

 

None of them truly woke, though, not that night. 

 

Sky’s watching was as pointless as he’d told Wind, but he would have been awake regardless, just as he’d told Wind;  he was tired, so miserably, tearfully tired, but sleep didn’t once threaten his racing mind, not with the concern still clawing at his heart for those missing still. He yawned again, stretching his legs out and looking at the slowly brightening sky outside, the night peaceful and undisturbed in the wake of the blood moon.

 

Here, at least, where there were no monsters to resurrect. Elsewhere, though…

 

It was a long, long time till dawn.  

 

----------------------------------------------------------

 

Wild hadn’t come back yet, and the sun had risen hours ago. 

 

By now, his being gone for this long was normal, a fact that Sky loathed with great fervor considering how much trouble he now knew could go down in that amount of time for their unluckiest new hero. 

 

The village was very much awake outside by the time Hyrule shivered and finally sat up, rubbing sleepily at his face as he broke into a jaw-popping yawn. Sky answered with one of his own in the next second, and when he opened his eyes Hyrule was already out of bed and staring wide-eyed down at the bed of Smithy’s, clearly puzzled and uncertain of how worried he should be.

 

“Sky?” He started to say, before pausing to gather his thoughts again. “Um, what? Four?” He asked weakly, pointing to them as he turned large, liquid eyes pleadingly in Sky’s direction. 

 

He chuckled at the Traveler’s plight, even as the shorter hero began to lean in to check them over on instinct. “They’re alright, from what we can tell, but they haven’t woken up yet to share what they know, if anything.”

 

Hyrule glanced in the direction of Wind and Warriors’ room, then looked at the sunlight outside with a frown before resting a gently glowing hand over the blue Four’s body. “Five, though?” He wondered aloud, before shaking it off. “They’re only sleeping, now,” he confirmed, before turning his eyes to the darker haired Four, face pinching in concern. 

 

“Not this one, though,” Hyrule murmured, noting the way he was tied into the blanket burrito before pulling the cocoon away enough to check the fifth Four over more wholly than he had the others. “I’m… not sure what’s wrong with him. His magic, though- he’s not a Dark?” Hyrule asked, turning to Sky as if the knight would have any idea. 

 

“We didn’t know, but considering they all showed up after the blood moon we decided to err on the side of caution. Is… he alright?” Sky prodded gently, wandering closer himself as Hyrule tucked the blankets back around the small, dark-haired form. 

 

“He’ll be fine. He may look like a Dark, but his magic doesn’t feel malevolent. I don’t know what to make of it, but having him bundled in blankets won’t hurt him until we figure it out,” Hyrule assured him, before running a hand through his curls in bemusement. “The amount of dark magic might have hurt him, his magic feels a little raw, kind of? Inflamed? The evil taint was more concentrated than I’d ever felt outside of Ganon himself, so I’ve no idea how it would affect a dark being if it didn’t strengthen them.” They both looked at the pale, ill-looking Four, clearly not strengthened by the blood moon. 

 

“As long as he’s not in any danger at the moment,” Sky said in relief before turning a beatific smile on the Traveler, still looking ragged himself, a touch too pale under his freckles and face pinched ever so subtly in a hint at a headache. “And you, ‘Rule? You didn’t fare so well during the blood moon either, how are you doing?” His face fell into a wry grin as Hyrule gave a nervous chuckle, looking to the side for a moment to escape eye contact as he pinned on an innocent look. 

 

“I’m fine!” Their Traveler insisted, sending Sky a cherubic smile. 

 

The Skyloftian sighed, unsurprised by now. “Sit down, ‘Rule. I’ll get you some breakfast, and then you can tell me how you’re really doing.”

 

Hyrule opened his mouth, before reconsidering. “What-?” He hedged meekly, and Sky couldn't help but melt a little in relief. 

 

The look of bliss as Hyrule tucked into two-hands worth of honey drizzled and jam lathed biscuits was a delight to witness. Wind and Warriors’ arrival with their own meals and their familiar teasing and gentle coaxing to ensure everyone ate their share did wonders to heal the ever growing cracks in Sky’s sanity, settling him in a way he hadn’t realized he so desperately needed in all the non-stop madness. 

 

It was nice, having brothers, even if they did worry him to death. 

 

-------------------------------------------------

Blue POV

------------------------------------------------

 

There was a sense of achey relief and general exhaustion first thing as he came to, tempered by the presence of the other Colors close by. Waking up curled next to his brothers was a familiar feeling, and a comfort Blue always relished in, the heat of the others pressed close blissful to the perpetually chilled Color. It had been far too long since they last did this, unable to spend a night split apart when they agreed this was a secret to keep from the Chain. 

 

A secret… wait.

 

It was at that point  that the memories of what had preceded this lovely nap hit, jumbled and confused where him and the others had overlapped too far towards the end, feverish and muddied and the whole mess only made worse as all of them gradually lost their ability to cope. They’d deteriorated unnaturally fast, and it had taken far, far too long for them to realize it was because of the strange, dark magic phenomena that was building all around them, by which point there was nothing they could do, uncoordinated and scrambled into a giant, muddied mess of too many intersecting minds. It had all been topped off with whatever that final wave of magic had been, forcing them into a non-consensual split for the first time in years as it seeped into all their cracks and ripped them apart, pain too severe to comprehend being the last thing Blue could recall, shivering at the memory of it, no matter how far removed and muddled it was.

 

There was a gentle brush of a mind against his, through the soul bond with the other heroes, not the shared mindspace of the Colors. He could feel their presences around him, now, less clear than as Four but easily enough to know who was there with him and the others. So much for hiding, then. This could all have been avoided then, if they’d known it was an inevitability; it only made Four’s suffering to stay together completely pointless, which was fine. 

 

Totally fine. 

 

Blue’s eyes flew open, meeting instantly with Wind’s curious gaze. The kid was practically vibrating from where he was peering over Sky’s shoulder, the Chosen Hero leaning forward with gentle concern, almost too close for comfort. 

 

“... Four?” His voice was quiet, the low tones coarser than usual in direct conjunction with the same lack of sleep that was likely attributing to the dark circles under Sky’s eyes. Blue vaguely remembered how the other had worried and taken control as the oldest of the uninjured, hale Chain members at Kakariko; he likely hadn’t slept much, not if Four had split on them after being so ill, without any explanation at all. 

 

He’d have to make sure he got a nap, then, once there was a gap in crises to allow for it. 

 

“Blue,” he corrected through a yawn, blinking himself farther awake and twisting to see the others still out, Red happily sandwiched between Vio and Green. Violet was at the other edge of the bed, facing outwards, sunk much lower with his legs extended to brush undercovers against-

 

“Shadow?” He gasped, lunging to the foot of the bed to kneel beside their friend, freshly alive again, even if he did look like shit and was… tied up? Blue whirled to glare at Sky and Warriors, who had stepped up as well with hands raised placatingly at the ferocity of the Color. “What happened, why is he tied up?”

 

“Because he’s a Dark, or so we feared. Without you to ask, we wanted to be careful,” Warriors answered calmly, “He’s a friend, though?” 

 

A friend? Maybe not, not to Blue, who’d mostly known him as an enemy and only at the last as the golden-hearted under-dog hero Shadow truly was. But he’d proven himself perfectly well of being their reflection down to the last heroic sacrificial tendency, and Blue couldn’t deny that Shadow felt like he belonged , once the dark magic that made him had been stripped of the Malice that haunted every Hero’s existence. 

 

“He’s a brother,” Blue asserted softly, stroking the back of his hand over the cool, pale cheek, noting the way Shadow’s hair wasn’t floating as it always had, the way he was unresponsive on every level, body and mind. The anger was quick to cool at the guilt that made its way over the bond with the other heroes, the way Warriors took him at his word and moved to undo the knots. 

 

Not the best idea, not yet, maybe. The odd event that seemed to have spawned him had been evil, poisonous, and there was no promise that out of that Shadow had come back with pure, untainted dark magic alone.  Blue swallowed nervously at the insidious thought, but couldn’t ignore it completely. “Wait, let me check, first.” All eyes flew to him as he moved his hand to rest upon Shadow’s forehead, voice somber as he explained. 

 

“He was dead. Sacrificed himself to beat Ganon and Vaati and save the kingdom; it was what let us win, in the end, but that was it.” He swallowed, jaw clenching at the memory of the despair stabbing through Vio’s mind, at the harsh loss of a hylian who had nothing but promise to be a brother, a companion, a comrade in arms to them, if he’d only had the chance. “We never got him back, thought maybe he could be saved or remade, being a dark reflection of us, but- if he was spawned of that kind of magic, he might not be o ur Shadow, not anymore.”

 

Not yet, at least, he amended, for they’d dragged the malice from Shadow’s magic already, and they would do it again if they had to. Blue was not the best suited Color for this kind of investigation, but he prodded carefully at Shadow’s magic, trying to figure out how to feel its state of being when the other was unconscious and ultimately coming up short. 

 

Then he felt a stirring of wakefulness, though it wasn’t Shadow. “Ah, shit ,” he swore, before warning the others with a wince. “Okay, Vio’s waking up, and he was closest to Shadow out of all of us. There’s every chance he’ll throw a fit seeing him bound up-”

 

A sleepy groan, and one of Vio’s feet kicked at him, the meager attempt further softened by the covers between them. “Blue, shut up- it’s too early and I have a… head… ache-?” Vio’s voice trailed off, his head popping up from the pillow to squint around before he jolted. “Shit!” He yelped, looking as taken off guard as Blue had ever seen him, scrunching his nose as he too pieced together what had led to this from the fragmented scatter of memories he had. 

 

Blue could see the exact instant his brother’s gaze wandered to him, and down to Shadow, roped up in a blanket and distinctly ill and unconscious. His expression immediately fell from sharp-eyed focus to something far more vulnerable and soft, hope warring with disbelief at a dream come true right before him. “Shadow?” He breathed, and moved much slower than Blue had, as if afraid this was a mirage that would fall apart at a touch. 

 

“It’s him,” Blue promised. “Though, Vio, the magic he was born of this time, it might not be-”

 

Vio held up a hand to his face, the other already cupped around Shadow’s cheek as he closed his eyes and focused, nothing but a warm thrum in their mindspace to indicate anything was happening. 

 

A sniffle, a tear dropping to land on Shadow’s hair, and Blue’s heart sank, wondering how bad, exactly it was. How fixable, how risky. 

 

Vio smiled, and dropped to touch his forehead to Shadows, a relieved laugh breaking free from him. “It’s him, he’s fine, he’ll be fine. He’s good, still, Blue, it’s him .” 

 

And how could Blue do anything but laugh through his tears as well? Hugging both his brothers tightly, ecstatic that they’d been reunited at last, against all odds, after so many years of fruitless attempts. 

 

Then a third body glomped to them, Red wrapping his arms around them as he too let out a joyous, whoop, drawing Vio in for an especially teary, jubilant embrace. “Vio, Shadow! How? We thought- but he’s here!” Red exclaimed, rocking them all merrily as he reveled in the gladness of this unexpected reunion. 

 

“How indeed,” Vio said wondrously, smiling still. “The sheer amount of dark magic must have done it- we’ve never had so much at hand, not any of the other times we tried to bring him back. Imbued items, yes, but this trumped all of them. He must have reformed when we split in the midst of it, though the real question is how he avoided the malice imbued in the magic that fueled his reformation.”

 

“But he’s back for good?” Red checked, as Blue shuffled back over to give Green a testing shake on the shoulder- nope, still out for now. 

 

“He’s stable, though I wouldn’t let direct sunlight hit him until we could better assess how robust this new body is,” Vio warned, as if he was going to be leaving Shadow unattended at any point until he woke up. He was already untying him, pulling the rope free and handing the whole pile of it to Wind.

 

“Is it okay if we ask who Shadow is, exactly?” Sky said hesitantly, abruptly reminding the colors that they had witnesses.  

 

“And what, exactly, is going on here?” Warriors added, face helpless as he gestured across the Four littered bed. Red blushed, while Blue merely rolled his eyes. Vio simply began carefully pulling the still blanket wrapped Shadow up to the head of the bed, Sky immediately stepping forward to help him undo the cocoon and retuck him in beside the still sleeping Green, Vio settling in to sit against the bed board on his other side. 

 

 “Oh, of course!” Red chimed, hunkering in where he was smack dab in the middle of the bed. “It was the Foursword-”

 

Blue immediately slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh no you don’t- Vio, do you mind? I don’t particularly want to have to explain it twice.” Red made an indignant noise but was immediately mollified as Blue wrapped him up in a hug, a dutiful, exasperated look on his face even as he did nothing to stop Red from burrowing closer and settling them both in comfortably.

 

Vio sent a longing look at Green, looking as though he was going to be out this whole explanation, but sighed with over-the-top put-uponness. “Alright, listen up, then. We were all Link, once, an individual just as all of you are, before our adventure brought us to draw the Four Sword.”

 

“By its magic Link’s psyche was split into quadrants and reformed as four heroes, each of us characterized by key character traits. Though we’ve enough of everything to function as four well-balanced individuals normally, when combined as Four for too long without splitting -or the opposite, spending too long apart- things can… destabilize, somewhat. That’s what you saw earlier; keeping the ability hidden made finding a safe opportunity to split nigh impossible with seven of you hanging about and insisting ‘no one goes alone’. It crept up on Four, and the blood moon and particularly terrible portal travel to this world only made it that much worse than usual.”

 

Sky sighed gustily, leaning back on his chair. “So it’s not usually that bad? It was terrifying, seeing Four like that. But that was just you all? Are you still separate, even when you’re… Four?” He asked, clearly struggling with the phrasing. 

 

Vio paused, but Blue and Red were all too content to let him carry all the weight, watching him like all the others were, as if they were part of the audience as well and not shameless free loaders riding off of him taking charge. 

 

“It’s hard to explain, in the same way that the soul bond between all us hero incarnations is difficult to describe to a person not experiencing it. We’re still there, but so is Four. He’s made up of us, and we are inherently all a part of a whole. It’s an admittedly odd balancing act, one that we have very little true control over past splitting or reforming.”

 

Warriors sat up, raising a hand from his lap hesitantly. “I have… so many questions.” 

 

Vio brushed him off for now, though. “Shadow’s a dark though, Link’s dark. There’s only one of him, and though he was brought into existence by the enemy, by the end he had changed loyalties. I… played double agent, got attached, and so did he, apparently.” Soft sentimentality seeped into his voice, then, and he fondly ran a hand through Shadow’s hair. 

 

“We purified his magic of the malice it had upon creation- we were ready to keep him with us, afterwards, to show him what life was really like outside of the plot he’d been born into, and he was so excited- 

 

He still threw it all away to ensure Vaati and Ganon lost, though. We gave him a glimpse of the future he could have and he sacrificed it and himself to ensure that future could still exist, even if it was without him in it.” Vio raised his head, eyes blazing. “He’s a hero, he always was. Our dark, ours , and just as much a hero as we are.”

 

Then his eyes turned to Green, and narrowed. “Now, get up Green, you’re answering their other questions.”

 

A harsh shoulder nudge had a single emerald eye popping open, face pleading as Green rolled to his back. “But you did so well, Vio! And you’ll only correct me anyways,” he pointed out to no avail, as Vio only proceeded to continue shoving at him, almost rolling him off the bed before Warriors reached to catch the final Color from face planting.

 

“He’s a sweetheart, isn’t he?” Green cooed, face smushed on his hand as he looked lovingly at the balefully glaring Vio. “I heard most of the explanation-” (“You were awake the whole time?!” Blue yelped indignantly) “But a lot was left out,” he said airily, seemingly impervious to Vio’s narrow-eyed stare. “What else do you want to know?”

 

Warriors was starry eyed, immediately drawing up both hands, fingers spread, before ticking one down with the first question. 

 

Too late to backtrack now , Blue thought with vindictive glee as he watched the amicable smile on Green’s face falter in the face of Warriors’ total, information-gathering focus. 

 

========================================

 

By the time all the information had been doled out to inquiring minds, it was coming up on noon, and there was an antsy edge to the group of heroes. Wind wasted little time gathering companions to investigate the Fairy Fountain, standing like a sea captain upon a chair as he called his men to arms, Hyrule smiling excitedly as he bounced on his feet and Red also gladly volunteering, eyes bright at the opportunity to meet a new Great Fairy. The other colors opted to stay behind with Shadow, yet to awaken.  

 

Warriors and Sky accompanied them as far as the fork in the path, separating to relieve the sheikah guards from shrine watch, the building monitored as always for the moment Wild and his newest hero companion arrived. 

 

(Once they were out of view the older heroes dropped the facade of light-heartedness, both of them somber as they checked with the guards before taking up the watch in their stead, quiet save for some broken, sad attempts at small talk. Apart from the energy of the younger members, the dread of a ticking clock loomed over them, every minute that passed in the unbroken peace of the forest adding the insurmountable weight of time running out before their eyes. 

 

Wild had been gone going on 12 hours, now, and the slowly tightening noose of panic as they were kept in excruciating suspense was weighing gradually heavier on all of the heroes that had been left behind. There was nothing else they could do, now. They had all their fairies, had what red potions -no, hearty elixirs, that’s right- Kakariko could offer. There was nothing now but to wait, and the waiting was a torture in its own right.

 

Some were pulling close together to cope, some doing what they could to turn their attention elsewhere; Sky and Warriors were doing the only vaguely useful thing left, and even that, in the end, was nothing more than waiting.) 

 

The small trio of heroes trotted up to the fountain, Wind gesturing grandly to it as Hyrule and Red took it in with delighted gasps and immediate perusal, wandering all around the flower and dancing lightly through the glistening water as they poked at the rainbow array of mushrooms and lush greenery surrounding it. They finally rounded back to the front of the flower, most curious about the fairy within, Wind and Red both gesturing for Hyrule to lead. 

 

They watched as he advanced up the mushroom staircase, breathing in the bright, floral scent of the air. Hyrule had only just knelt to peer more closely into the whirling, opalescent waters within when the water suddenly burst upwards in a sparkling spray, the Great Fairy pulling herself from the surface to tower over him. 

 

She was just as resplendent as Tera had been, taking a similar, bedecked shape as her sister had. There was the same majesty and enormity to her, something greater to her form than what mortal eyes could capture. A weightiness grew in the air at her arrival, not heavy or obtrusive, but an odd awareness of the power she represented, wild and natural and older than the youths before her could truly comprehend.

 

“Why hello there, little one,” the Great Fairy crooned, curling a hand invitingly towards the Traveler. He sent a shy glance towards Wind and Green, before obligingly condensing into his fairy form, what magic he lost in the transformation made up for in this shape’s easy acceptance of the fountain’s bounty of magic compared to his hylian form, even if it wasn’t of his world, even if it wasn’t perfect. “I’m Cotera, one of four, and happy to see you!” She said merrily, both hands gently bracketing his tiny form as the magic welled around them. 

 

“I’m Link,” he said softly. “Called Hyrule by the heroes I’m traveling with, across worlds and through time.” This was said with slight trepidation, remembering Tera’s reaction, but if Cotera had the same reservations she hid it well from him, only beaming down at the small fairy as she began to gush over him.

 

“Darling nephew, it’s a pleasure! Oh, look at you! Such a lovely little fellow, and powerful, too! I bet there’s more than a few lives owed to your good work, aren’t there?” She asked proudly, and they couldn’t see Hyrule’s blush in this form, but the way his pink color grew brighter and darker was as good as. 

 

Wind was more than willing to do the bragging Hyrule was too shy for, though. “Oh, he’s a fantastic healer, and a super strong hero, too! There was this one time I got a couple fingers lopped off, and Hyrule was able to reattach them- it was amazing ,” Wind said, jumping at the chance to hype the other up.  

 

She laughed like a great tree rustling in the wind. “Impressive indeed, to have such skill with non-mortal wounds. Believe it or not, those are trickier,” she said conspiratorially to the two hylians. “Though we never wish others to need such help, it’s always a pleasure to be able to offer it. Though, I must ask,” she said, face falling to a small frown, large luminous eyes glowing in an otherworldly display of whirling light. “Where is our world’s Link? He was at Tera’s fountain; I wouldn’t have expected him to pass up a chance to visit.” 

 

And just like that, what small escape they’d found was gone, and Red and Wind exchanged a look before Hyrule himself flew higher to eye level and spoke, the Great Fairy’s face set in disconcerting focus as she listened, before sighing and cupping Hyrule in her hand once more, drawing him close and breathing pure, regenerating magic over him, even if he only absorbed a fraction of it. She did the same for Wind and Red, tracing a deceptively dextrous finger along their heads, the action nowhere near as threatening as it should have been, not when she exuded nothing but maternal warmth and care. 

 

They continued to talk, but the happiness was muted, now, even as Cotera continued to fuss over Hyrule and listened to Wind’s stories of the Traveler’s spectacular feats, Red glad to add appropriately impressed commentary. There was an underlying melancholy, an acknowledgement that this was a distraction from a deeper problem, a sad cast over the whole interaction.

 

Just through the woods, a shrine awaited. Cotera did her best to keep their minds from what couldn’t be helped, but it lingered there, under the warm, sparkling aura of the fountain. They hadn’t… it wasn’t necessarily good or bad, the not knowing. 

 

It was hard, nonetheless.

 

======================================

 

Back at the inn, Shadow stirred slowly awake, met with most of the Colors, exuberant and joyous all over again at this final step in Shadow’s return. He was exhausted and in pain but whole again at last, the tell-tale acidic gnawing of malice gone from his magic and self, chased from him by Rainbow’s connection with him, body and mind and soul, even after they were drawn apart. It left his magic feeling raw and scooped empty, forced through a filter and scorched within an inch of its life, but- 

 

They’d already done this, and he didn’t regret it this time, either. Vio hugged him close, Green and Blue bracketing the pair and enclosing Shadow in blessed warmth and touch and happiness, all of it simultaneously overwhelming and something he refused to pull away from after so long lingering in the void of wherever his shattered mirror had dropped him, too weak to do anything but exist , alone. 

 

Red wasn’t here, but Shadow knew he couldn’t be far. Vio was murmuring as he held him, refusing to let go even as Green and Blue pulled away. Blue wrapped them both up in a quilt, Shadow peering up at him with the eye not covered by Vio’s hair, but the Color only huffed a breath and smiled at them. Shadow turned farther into Vio, hugging him tightly back as he shook and laughed, no better off himself.  

 

There was something else going on, he could tell- Blue and Green seemed on edge, though predominantly relieved that Shadow had woken up. There was a too sharp edge to their smiles, eyes pinched tight at the corners despite the genuine happiness flooding their mindspace. Even Vio’s reaction was slightly worrisome; the tears and refusal to let him go not surprising in any way except their magnitude, as if this was the breaking point for a much larger group of concerns. 

 

Shadow knew that Vio tended to keep his feelings tucked in close, that he would rather ignore the building stress and work past it than take the time to do some internal introspection- after all, Shadow had watched him slowly buckle under the guilt of his perceived betrayal, even if he didn’t realize that had been the cause of Vio’s growing agitation and distress.

 

He had no doubt that Vio had missed him, because he’d been devastated in the moments before Shadow broke the mirror, shattered at the realization of what was about to happen, but this? He wasn’t cocky enough to believe this was just him coming back. Something else was wrong, Shadow could feel it in the unease pervading their mindspace.

 

For now, Vio could release the repressed emotions he’d let build too high, and Blue could coddle them and Green keep a watchful eye over them. Red’s return would mean more cuddling and hugs, but Shadow had no complaints there. He had no idea where he was, how long it had been, or what had gotten him out of the void.

 

It could wait for now, though. Shadow was back, and the Colors were safe, and that’s all that mattered in this moment.

 

======================================

 

Through the forests and the valley below, all attention snapped upwards. Someone was screaming, and there was the familiar blue shine of the forest shrine’s activation, if one knew where to look.

 

They were back. 

 

Something was wrong.

Notes:

Four: okay we need to come up with a reason we’re sick ASAP
Colors: *avalanche of discourse culminating in a dazzling, instant migraine*
Four: wait, no, shit *passes out*

Sky and Wind: How is Warriors?!
Paya: he’s hur-
Sky: holy shit wild was that your hEART STOPPING
Wind: fucking hell Four this is bugnuts insane PAYA DON’T LOOK AWAY HELP
Paya: is this a bad time? It feels like a bad time

Sky, Wind, Wild, trying to figure out magic to blood moon impact correlation while knowing nothing about magic: *red strings conspiracy board meme*

Sky and Wind in the butterfly meme: Is this a Dark?

Sky’s love can be directly measured in how steep an hours of sleep to waking hours ratio he’s willing to run on for said person

Absolutely no one:
Me, peppering in more useless skills for the Chain that will probably never get mentioned again: here Sky have a visual sensitivity to light v dark magic for no reason whatsoever past me liking the feel of it

 

Sky’s talent for seeing the balance of light to dark magic is absolutely useless, and also effortless and subconscious, like seeing someone’s hair color. And so far as he can tell, it’s just about as indicative of morality and ethics of the individual. Though, on second thought, it’s rather handy for discerning if dark magic is actually Dark magic, because the two are not synonymous. Monsters are drenched in Dark magic, and hoo boy does that hit different than just regular /dark/ magic. Depending on the Hyrule more or less is known about the properties, but -excepting populations like the Twili and the Sheikah that consistently lean pretty dark- it’s not something that’s very easy to study or track, unless you’re Sky, who’s the blessed hero and grew up with Hylia in mortal form.

It’s not something that usually comes up or that he pays attention to, not unless something like a dark copy of one of his brothers pops up randomly and without explanation. Though, come to think of it, that does mean that if Shadow or Dark Link were ever to shapeshift Sky would probably notice the instant he saw them, so there’s that.

Anyways, dark magic and light magic are not inherently good or evil, but Ganon was originally just dark magic inclined, so that’s what he can more easily corrupt towards his needs and uses. Over the course of the repeated incarnations this has led to a bit of a misconception, since most of the Malice ridden monsters and people/players were indeed dark magic based. So the blood moon being a reflection of GAnon’s power meant it was -as many characters have mentioned- a dark magic wave, though one tainted with Malice. This was power enough to reincarnate Shadow as a dark magic being, and Four acted as something of a filter against the Malice by virtue of the taint being weak to light magic and Four, very much light magic oriented, being connected in every way that matters to Shadow.

I’ve never played FourSwords or read the manga, so if I got anything wrong in Vio’s small recap let me know and I’ll amend it~

And I don’t know where I saw it or how correct it is, but I saw that dilated pupils after a concussion or different sized pupils was NOT indicative of a concussion necessarily, but WAS indicative of brain damage on some level, which is the reason it’s listed as a symptom. The presence of it means that it was a very bad head injury and immediate help is needed- Warriors had a slow brain bleed that hadn’t caused any damage yet, but given enough time it would have, so it’s a good dang thing that they got that fairy, or he would have gotten to the mismatched pupil point.

Next up is Legend, at long, long last. Not Wild though, not unless I go truly above and beyond on word count.

(I wouldn’t hold my breath on that)

Chapter 10: Living the Dream

Summary:

Nearly Naked Castaway Goes Absolutely Feral on Local Island Monsters: More at Midnight.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Panic Attacks
Time until Wild Contact: We don’t see him yet, folks, he’s a half hour off still
Chapter Spans: 1 day 9 hours, from arrival to the Blood Moon
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Covers all the time up to Chapter 8

Here’s a secret that not many know: Legend doesn’t actually have that much magic. 

 

Which is to say compared to the average hylian he was powerful indeed, but amongst those gifted in the ways of the arcane? He had a far smaller store of power at his fingertips than most realized, even amongst the other heroes. Nowhere near as sad as Twilight and Warriors were, but- nothing impressive by any stretch of the imagination, not when looking solely at capacity.  

 

That’s not to say Legend wasn’t scarily good at working with what he did have. So far as precision went he was unmatched; every spell trimmed to the leanest consumption, every trick in the book used to piggyback on ambient magic or streamline environmental loss. The Vet preferred to use magical items, the conductivity of their enchantments acting as a much more efficient delivery method, with markedly less magic lost to the atmosphere than with open spellwork, no matter the breathtaking finesse of the caster. 

 

Legend had to conserve every tiny fragment he could, and he had gotten very, very good at it. 

 

Hyrule often described magic as music, and though Legend couldn’t say he heard it as such the energy did have frequencies of a sort that could be manipulated, or matched, to magnify a spell without pouring extra power into it or weaken an enemy’s by hitting dissonance against theirs. Legend knew where excess power could be cut without compromising objective, knew inside and out how each of his magical items worked and the full range of attacks they were capable of, if one were skilled enough with their magic. 

 

He’d’ve shown Wars some real tricks with that fire rod, except that he’d been there when the Captain had first used it in the most generic pour-magic-into-it-and-watch-fire-come-out manner, and had seen the depth of fathomless confusion when he started to suggest, ”If you twist your magic as you add it-”

 

The Captain had blinked at him as if he was speaking a different language, Legend drawing himself up short at the blatant lack of comprehension greeting even that basic instruction. “Just a twist,” he repeated in disbelief, because maybe he just hadn’t been heard? Except Warriors’ eyes cut to the side and back before settling into polite resignation of playing audience to a concept far outside his capabilities.

 

For fuck’s sake, he wasn’t asking him to tie a knot with it. If Warriors was this magic blind it was no wonder he was the first to give a magical item to the Captain. 

 

“No?” He’d said flatly, just to be sure, and Warriors at least had the grace to look sheepish as he shook his head in agreement. 

 

“Not a chance,” the Captain admitted, as resigned to the fact as though his shallow pool of magic were an ocean held back only by a stalwart dam with a single valve of access; open or closed, and very little leeway in between. It very much wasn’t - he’d less magic then Legend, which generally lent itself to better control, though exceptions clearly existed. Legend considered his own stores a not-too-much-larger circulating pond, with a careful maze of aqueducts and canals and water wheels and supplementary streams to bolster the many ways he could access it. Small, but respectable in what it could accomplish regardless of the fact.

 

His control couldn’t be hidden, not from those who knew how difficult the pinpoint etchwork of his magic casting was. But so long as they thought him drenched in magic, that precision was a double threat, not a necessary skill to bridge the gap from a weak mage to the truly powerful, and there had been plenty of powerful enemies more than capable of wiping the Veteran off the map with a single, potent strike. 

 

But that’s why he bothered with the facade at all, wasn’t it? He’d beaten far more magical creatures and foes than he should have, going by power alone- all thanks to nothing more than finely honed control and a bit of deception. Legend had found that enemies didn’t lead with an all-powerful strike if they didn’t think it would finish him in a single devastating hit. Equals, they treated with more care and caution, and that was all the opening Legend needed to even the  playing field with a couple tricks and tools. If it took a little subterfuge to get him there, well. 

 

He’d never minded the thrill of a trick well played. 

 

So he went out of his way to hide this weakness; let his array of magical items and knowledge draw them to think he was powerful, that his tendency towards magical tools and clever, trickier spells was from the malicious delight of drawing out darkness’ death rather than that a single one of Hyrule’s Thunder spells would leave him practically unconscious. He kept hidden that stripped of his magic-amplifying rings, even all his cleverness and aptitude towards shortcuts and small, carefully pieced together spells couldn’t make his pond of magic an ocean. 

 

That’s alright- he liked using magic, had a tool for every occasion, but a sword solved almost all problems, and that was perfectly fine with him.

 

Legend wasn’t a mage, for all he sometimes pretended to be one, but he also wasn’t going to let what magic he had go unused to its full potential just because there wasn’t much of it. The battle skills were useful, on occasion, but more often he elected instead to supplement what physical prowess he already had, be they speed or strength or stealth. 

 

His favorite, by far, was figuring out how to make sensing work within his constraints. 

 

He’d learned to lay a filigree fine-net around him in a mockery of Time and Hyrule’s magic-drenched sensory bubbles, that his magic easily rested along leaves and living things. It was already attracted to such natural sinks of energy, happy to fall over them with no effort on his part, and -most importantly- nearly all of it could be drawn back where it stuck instead of dispersing into the air and being lost as with traditional sensing. 

 

The amount of magic Hyrule must be letting free into the world around him when he was actively sensing was simultaneously breath-taking and horrifying , as was how utterly unaffected by the loss he was. It was enough to make a mentor proud.

 

And to motivate said mentor into emulating the skill himself, if only for the benefit in catching land-borne enemies and attacks early.

 

As long as there was plant life, he could do it. The thinnest layer of sensory magic possible, spun in a spider’s array over his surroundings, just waiting for the faintest trigger to hone in and gather around an interruption to see if it was a threat or something worthy of investigation. Considering his stores and over-cautious nature, that meant outside of battle a good portion of his magic was reaching out and paying attention, an antennae just waiting for a vibration. 

 

An exposed nerve, if he wasn’t careful and quick.

 

Which is why the instant Legend stepped out from the portal, harmless as any others, the magic he’d had blossoming out around him, sliding harmlessly across the emptiness of the portal in preparation to check their surroundings upon arrival, was immediately and ruthlessly shorted out by a surge of foreign power. His system, finely honed and flexible but accustomed to his own modest stores, was taken out at the knees by the crash of magic that rocked across his senses like a tidal wave hammering into spun glass.  

 

He thinks he might have screamed, maybe. 

 

Legend staggered, blind and senseless and reeling from the proverbial strike, the ground slamming suddenly into his shoulder before he’d even registered falling. There was a moment of blind panic, of wondering what had attacked them before he’d even been able to sense it or defend, were the others alright were they fighting were they hurting too-

 

 He gasped, twisting as he tried to draw together the ragged shreds of his magic from the dragging whirlwind around him, sick and half-fainting from the overwhelming press of the magic still flooding all around. His own magic felt as though a bomb had gone off within it, flayed apart into raw, agonizing shards and burning .

 

Captured in by the haze of pain, Legend only distantly recognized the terrible, familiar feel of lightning screaming around him and within him with a sharp crack and fizzle of nerves. Through the jangling mess of proverbial and literal shock he made out a staticy, wrong-toned voice in his mind and magic, speaking indistinctly of challenges and orbs and scavenging that made no sense as his thoughts jittered apart under the influx of energy. 

 

He made one last, desperate attempt to draw his magic in to shield himself from whatever mess they’d landed in, only for another press of foreign energy across his skin to shove him firmly under, and away. 

 

As the world faded around him, the last to leave was his soul bonds, the final moment of consciousness catching on the odd sensation of being alone in his own mind again.

 

The confusion and panic sparked by the realization were snuffed out before they even had time to fully bloom, passing into the dark calm.  

 

-------------------------------------------------------

 

Legend snapped awake with a pained jolt, muscles fiercely aching and hammers already taking to his skull. On instinct he flung out his magic to scope around him as the world spun dizzyingly where he lay, only to hiss at the burning sensation that answered across the core of him. He pulled it back in, bringing a shaking hand to his face, only for his eyes to snap open, the deep purple catching in the dimmed moonlight. 

 

His mind rang empty, no background hum of fogged emotions or thoughts, no comforting heat of companionable presence, no Warriors fumbling around with the soulbond with all the finesse of a four year old in oven mitts.

 

It wasn’t silent, not between the wind and the crackling behind him, but without the chatter and hubbub of seven normally boisterous companions it was as good as. 

 

Where were the others?

 

They weren’t around that he could feel, and even though the dizzy feeling persisted Legend still pushed himself upright, looking around because maybe they were just unconscious, still, as he had been-

 

A glowing, zapping pyramid of rock and magic, a painful disruption in the otherwise soothing balm of the landscape to Legend’s scalded magic system. An ocean stretched out far beneath him, dark and calm in the night. An island spanning below, all silvered sand beaches and moonlit trees. 

 

Quiet, solitudinous. 

 

A nightmare he thought he woke up from long, long ago. 

 

It can’t be, though.The others must be around somewhere, scattered beyond his reach, and Legend couldn’t possibly have been dropped back in a dream because that was impossible . The portal must have messed up, for the first time ever, must have- must have -

 

He closed his eyes against his racing breaths and skittering heart, opening them to find it all the same, perched atop the mountain where the windfish’s egg once sat above its dreamed island and habitants, above Mabe Village and-

 

No. “No,” he forced out, shuddering, eyes latching onto the mainland easily visible in the distance, on the small size of this island, on the lack of any village at all, of any sweet-songed islanders with stars in her eyes-

 

“It’s not Koholint,” he assured himself with painstaking determination, ignoring the battle between relief and blazing disappointment within. 

 

It plainly wasn’t, for all its surficial, shallow similarities. But he was alone all the same, deserted on an island once more with no idea how he’d gotten there, the same way he’d started a few of his various adventures. Or the portal had taken him here after all, and the ability to trace how he’d arrived would have been more comforting if not for the fact that he’d done the same after the shipwreck and waking up to Marin on the shores of a sunny, blissful beach. 

 

He’d lived in dreams before that melded seamlessly with reality; there’d been no way to tell then, and there was no way now, either. 

 

Legend forced himself once more out of his mind, staring at a fern and carefully tracing his eyes over the leaves, one at a time. Agitated, he stretched his magic out, ignoring the burning pain in favor of at least ensuring he couldn’t be jumped whilst caught in his own mind, setting it across the grass with a pained shiver. It ached like using an injured limb, but held, and would trip all the same if anything approached. 

 

That small worry lifted, he unraveled, free from fear of dying for it. Legend crouched on his heels, curled into a tight, motionless ball, muscles locked as he struggled against the memories that had been triggered without warning, without anyone there to anchor him to reality, to make him the promises he so desperately needed to hear. He wanted Ravio, wanted Zelda, wanted anyone who he knew to be true. 

 

There was no one, though. He was as alone as he always had been on his adventures, but this one- spontaneous, mysterious, jarring- had all his normal poise failing him. Legend was drifting dangerously despite his best attempts to remain in the present, every sight, every sound, every sensation doing its best to slip him gently back to Koholint. 

 

Through the rising doubt and subsequently rising dread, he wondered wildly if having been victim to one dream creature made him more susceptible to the same affliction by others like the windfish. Maybe Hylia had seen his success, and deemed him the go-to for all such issues , he thought with a hysteric gasp of a laugh, muscles straining even tighter as he spiralled, breath constricted by the taut curl of his torso and the panic looping around it like a tightening hand.

 

He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t -

 

(He’d sometimes wondered -hadn’t been able to stop himself- if the Chain was truly real, if Hylia had genuinely gathered heroes from across time and space on the most poorly organized, absolutely blind chase after a vague threat he’d ever had the horror of facing. It seemed, in turns, both too ridiculous and too high a gift- some of the other heroes’ abilities were absurd and unheard of in the stories of old, and just as at Koholint he’d been given Marin, so now had he acquired seven brothers, dear to his heart and bound to his soul. 

 

It felt too good to be true. 

 

Sometimes, he feared it was.)

 

Legend shuddered helplessly at the old, familiar fear. The wind brushed over the cold sweat along his skin, chilling across shoulders and chest and stomach and thighs as he abruptly realized that he was nigh near naked, and stripped of any gear or pack. 

 

That wasn’t right- portals didn’t do that, and yet- 

 

Legend’s breath choked on the solid panic of the moment before starting once more, fast and shaky, trying to drag his mind from the similarities of waking without any of his possessions or charmed armor once before. This was real, surely, it had to be. People didn’t just get hurled into dreams, and people most certainly didn’t get unlucky enough to endure that twice. 

 

  Heroes weren’t just people, though, were they? 

 

He laughed, then, high and wild and afraid. The Chain all had a special brand of unluck, and this didn’t seem so terribly far a stretch considering his own history. What was more likely- that the portal, after all these months of working fine, would suddenly and without warning glitch and separate the Chain when it never had before, spontaneously stealing his gear and clothes? Or that Legend had been dragged onto another of his quests to save a foreign land, out of nowhere and with no warning or consent on his part?

 

( Or that this wasn’t real, again, that all this strangeness was a d r e a m )

 

Another quest. Legend screwed his eyes shut, burrowing his face in his arms, curling tighter. He clung to it, repeating it over and over until the thrum of battling thoughts faded to the background enough to finally catch a breath. 

 

Shallow, racing, but air enough. The light-headedness began to draw away, and when he lifted his head just enough to open his eyes the black dots swarming at the edges of his sight were dissipating too. 

 

Breathe. Count the leaves. Ignore the waves, the seabirds, the smell of salt in the air.  It was just another quest, and the sooner he got off this island, the sooner he could get back to the other heroes. 

 

( The sooner he could wake up .) 

 

Something prickled along the magic-limned grass to his right, the familiar acidic bite of malice snapping him to the hyperfocus of his fight response. Legend rose from his taut crouch in a single roll of muscle, turning just in time to see a stal creature crawl from the ground, of a height with him and horned but like none of the stal children he’d seen yet. Huffing a derisive scoff, he reached for his sword-

 

And his hand clasped empty air. 

 

Shit. 

 

The monster swung its wooden club, clumsy and uncoordinated and very, very easy to step away from with how blatantly it was choreographed. It made three such lunges, and by the third Legend had its range down, moving only so far as to let the bat swing harmlessly past his chest. The stal stumbled, arched awkwardly forward as it followed the momentum of the missed swing, and Legend stepped in, grabbing its skull and pushing it farther down. It moved to elbow him but he was already rolling forward over its lowered shoulder blade, twisting and yanking with his entire body weight at the fragile neck. 

 

It snapped off and he landed neatly on his feet, bouncing away from the body as it fell away to jittering limbs and bones, its dark magic already moving fast to draw everything back together. 

The insistent tug on the head in his hands was nowhere near strong enough to pull it free, but Legend nonetheless wasted no time in turning and punting it over the edge of the small plateau he was on.

 

It was only the moment before his foot made contact that he remembered that he was barefoot oh shit , but it was very much too late to stop by then. The bone cracked over the top of his foot, and though it may have hurt like a motherfucker the skull at least was brittle enough that it was what broke at the impact, shedding shards of bone as it careened out of sight, jaw gabbing as it flew. 

 

“Fuck! Ow, ow ow ow,” Legend hissed as he doubled over, shaking his foot out vigorously as the skeleton behind him started to scuttle back together to reform, the cussing hylian dismissing its antics as harmless. Sure enough, in the next second there was the inaudible snap as the skull finally fell too far, the stal creature dissolving away as the keystone moved out of range and tore the animation spell apart. Legend watched the purple smoke dissipate with a baleful eye before giving his foot one last probing poke, nose wrinkling in disgust at the already forming bruised bump that would remind him of this moment until he got his hands on a potion again. 

 

He limped off, circling around the edge of his little plateau, taking in the ocean and the mainland in the distance as well as the lack of any way down that didn’t involve hopping off of either a small cliff or a very large one. The building was no help either- still overcharged and painful every time he tried to poke at it with his magic, like running an already burned hand near a flame. A spark lashed out at him and he stepped back, and off of the platform, tumbling into the dirt and hissing as his foot was jostled again- in the last few minutes it had already grown to a decent sized lump, gloriously purple and red and tender. 

 

If Warriors caught a glance and ever found out how Legend got it he’d laugh his ass off-

 

There was a mental jolt he couldn’t stop, a swell of pain and doubt that crashed over him like a wave, stealing his breath and leaving a cold numbness after it, Koholint and the Chain and this island all briefly overlapping again in that odd dreamy un-realism. 

 

He’d get back to them, he would , because they were real, whether or not this was. He had escaped a dream before, and he could do it again if that’s what it took for the Captain to laugh at his idiocy just one more time.

 

“Another adventure,” he said weakly, voice fading as the sea breeze played with his hair and the lines between reality and memory blurred once more, what magic he could scrape into sensing blaring out wrong wrong wrong this was wrong .

 

And he’d experienced not right before, felt it build as he fought ever closer to an egg upon a peak, knew what the niggling, unconscious snag at the back of his mind meant. 

 

Now you know, isn’t that better?

 

(It wasn’t.)

 

No, no it had to be real, because Legend needed to believe that dreams couldn’t be brought to life like that except as a once in a lifetime misfortune. Because if they could, he’d never be able to tell what was true. 

 

He already struggled, his paranoid nature ill-suited to such mindgames, executed with flawless precision and devastating detail. 

 

( She was lovely, but not perfect. Her hair was too frizzy in the humid air, one side shorter than the other where she cut it herself. Her fingers were short and stubby, far from the elegant hands of the court maidens. 

 

It didn’t matter to him- every imperfection was charming because it was her , and his ring on Marin’s finger would have been the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen for the promise it represented- )

 

Ah, but that way lays insanity, and so this had to be real .

 

The stone building crackled ominously as another fierce skitter of electricity lashed out across its surface and the magic it channeled twisted and flickered, but the hylian was still and distant and unaware, lost in the listening.

 

It could have been a second or minutes before he stirred back to the present, roused from his daze at the weak, lingering nip of dark magic beside him.

 

The tiny spark proved not to be a stal, but rather an arm of the one he’d ripped the head off of, fingers wriggling on the grass as the last stubborn knot of animation stayed nestled within the bones. Legend’s head fell slightly to the side, curiosity sparking slightly at the oddity- was this just an odd form of the infected blood for the undead? 

 

Probably not- the magic was there but fading nonetheless, weak enough that it would be gone in an hour or two, and practically harmless in the meantime. He picked it up nonetheless, watching it flex and testing its strength- weak, even for an uninfected monster- before breaking it over his knee and watching it crumble and go up in smoke.

 

Weird. But the stal creature had left more behind than just its arm, and Legend perked up a little as he limped over to the monster remains and grabbed the wooden club, hefting its decent weight for a second before nudging a foot at the teeth and horn left behind. Any weapon was better than none, and even if the club had no edge to it there was something to be said for pure bludgeoning force; it may not be heavy, but Legend wasn’t going to let that stop him from cracking a few skulls with it. 

 

That left the rest of the remains- monster loot wasn’t unusual, but the body parts were new. He left them, though, with no storage and no perceivable use for them. Or maybe- he wandered to the edge and glanced down at the monster camp below, populated with horned monsters that looked like the living version of the stal creature and something much taller and stronger looking, all unfamiliar. 

 

 

The novel enemies weren’t so unexpected, the strangeness posing a challenge that was interesting, but surmountable. It was no worse than the recent experience of seven other heroes’ worlds each having their own monsters or variations thereof- this was the exact same problem they’d encountered every time they met a new Link in a fresh iteration of Hyrule.

 

(It was the same on Koholint, too, yes? Spinning off of memories…)

 

Legend veered from those thoughts with a sharp inhale. This was normal. He knew it was a dream this time, and that made it different than before. He wouldn’t fall for the lie, not again. 

 

Another scraping sense of wrong scratched over his magic as if to argue, his head throbbing sharply in answer. Legend rolled his neck out, took a centering breath that did nothing to alleviate the pain or the itching mental discomfort, and opted to focus on finishing this whole ordeal as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to put up with this for any longer than absolutely necessary.

 

He was the Veteran- if he wanted to crank through an adventure there was no one to stop him and no means to complain so long as all the baddies got their asses properly kicked.

 

And boy, did  kicking some asses sound deliciously cathartic right about now.  

 

Legend wasn’t sure how long he had until dawn- the full moon was moving towards the horizon, but the edges of the sky were still dark and soft, no sign of dawn’s warm hues yet. If he wanted to take out the monster camp now would be his best shot, while most were sleeping. Except, there was no sneaking up with the archers awake, and he had only a measly club and no knowledge of these monsters. They could be infected, even, if he knew his luck. 

 

(No, they couldn’t be, because he wasn’t on that adventure anymore, was he?)

 

None of that mattered. What did matter was that there was a glowing orange orb there amongst the unsuspecting monsters, and that seemed very, very promising so far as getting out of here. Legend could work around everything else; he’d seen far worse before, even if the lack of his gear or even a sword was irksome. 

 

That orb was important, and he was going to get it. 

 

There was another ledge under him, still overlooking the camp, but no path down but to scale the cliff. Legend was a god awful climber at the best of times, and he had no wish to make the experience all the worse for getting an arrow in the back by an archer catching sight of his clumsy descent and taking potshots at him while vulnerable. The problem then, was finding a way down that didn’t draw any attention. 

 

Climbing was a foregone conclusion; there was no path available, nothing but clean vertical surfaces all around. He was not overly dependent on his gear. Legend used them to supplement his own abilities, and without them he was maybe a little pissy at the lack of his usual shortcuts but he was not helpless. 

 

Like hell was a cliff going to take him out just because he’d been stripped to his shorts. 

 

They hadn’t noticed him yet, but to ensure that he was out of their scope of attention before he went scuttling down a cliff with his naked back to them Legend picked up a monster horn and hucked it, watching it fall nowhere near the archer -shut up Wind, he was amazing with a boomerang and that’s what counts. Though the red furred creature did startle as it bounced over the ground near its watchtower, whirling about confusedly it didn’t look up, and that was enough for him. 

 

Legend mentally scooched the likelihood of them being infected down a notch at the show of naivety; it didn’t seem to be smart enough or nearly bloodthirsty enough for the ravenous black-blooded monsters he’d grown so accustomed to fighting. 

 

He craned his head over the ledge and gauged the distance down once more before grudgingly admitting it was too far to fall without risking injury. Fine, then. No time like the present for learning how to climb down a smooth rock face without rope or training or practice. 

 

Fueled by thwarted obstinance and the stinging defeat of not having a clever way out, Legend turned his thinly clad butt to the monsters below and lowered himself down off the ledge, blindly scoping for a foothold and cursing his badly bruised foot as it protested the movement. He managed to fumble his way down a fraction of the face before his tenuous hold on the situation failed entirely. A fruitless search for another foothold had him flailing just a little too hard, the splay-fingered hold he had on the faintest bump in the rock sticking for just a second before the torque did it in. His fingers slipped from the stone as he twisted, and the other  hand’s weak hold along a hairline crack refused the entirety of his weight, falling free in the next moment. 

 

He bit back the instinctive yelp as he fell, skidding (bouncing) painfully across ( off of ) a shallow slope of rock in the next second before crumpling onto the grass, knees and ankles twinging at the impact as he laid there, cringing as his joints throbbed and the freshly flayed skin along his limbs began to weep blood. 

 

For a second he held his breath, waiting as the blood rushed in his ears, the tension cresting before breaking suddenly as the moment passed in continued silence. There was no cry of alarm, and he popped his head up to find that the archer was still utterly clueless of his impromptu descent. 

 

Legend crawled over to the clump of ferns that were the only thing on the ledge that counted as cover, the throbbing in his legs fading to the background as he stared at the monster, marking how it swiveled around steadily in a half circle to watch the edges of the camp. The other archer did too, but there was no overlap between where they watched- a path right through the middle of the camp was, ironically enough, the least monitored route open to him if he wanted to use stealth to attack. 

 

It was the best option, for all that he was itching for the rush of a good, head-on fight, especially against monsters he was confident he could beat. A fight was no fun if he was being riddled with arrows during it, though, so he contented himself with a stealthier assassination style strike instead, mentally mapping his way right past the sleeping monsters in the center of the camp and around behind the archer on the right, where there were ruin walls to provide cover from it’s searching gaze. If Legend was quick and quiet he could take both the archers out and then have at the rest. 

 

And if he wasn’t, well, he’d get that chaotic throw down after all then, wouldn’t he?

 

Legend’s pride pricked at the thought of getting caught, though, even if it was an outcome he had little issue with- he had always been sneaky, even without the gear designed to capitalize on the fact. It was the drop from the shelf he was on down to the monster’s level that was the next trick;  it wasn’t as wasn’t as far as the first cliff had been, but Legend was careless, and in a bit more of a rush this time, very painfully aware that an arrow could land between his shoulder blades at any moment if the monsters caught sight of him from the corner of their eyes, his hands sweaty with nerves, and-

 

Well, Legend fell again, is what happened. Feet hitting first, knees bending and crumpling until he was dumped on his ass. He nearly cracked his head on a giant flat slab of stone that he had definitely not seen from above with how close to the cliff base it lay, but it served as excellent cover, for all that there was a good few feet of open space under it where it rested on something glowing. Legend crept under the shelter of the stone, peering out at the still-undisturbed camp for a second before his eyes flicked between the orb’s glow and curling pattern and back at the matching orange patterning upon the covered pedestal beside him. 

 

Surely that was too easy, right? But it wasn’t then, was it, not with an immovable stone covering the glowing stand. He put a hand to it, about to push before realizing how stupid that would be when it could rock back down or shift and crush him. 

 

Problem for later, then. There were monsters to kill, first.  

 

Lips parting in focus, Legend discretely wove some magic around him, dampening his presence; he had another spell for subtly letting attention slip off of him, but that worked best in crowds, with other people or objects to shirk it off onto- it’d be practically useless when he was the only thing worth paying attention to in the open stretch of grass he was trying to cross. He bided his time watching the monsters cycle through their rotations, until finally they landed on the one he’d been waiting for. 

 

Both archers turned away to face the outer edges of the plateau and Legend darted out, bare feet falling silently across the grass as he sprinted to the closest ruin wall, right past the sleeping monsters. As he went, moonlight caught across the blade of a rust-eaten sword in the grass, only a little out of the way- but no, the nearest archer was turning towards him already, and there was no time-  

 

Legend only barely managed to dive into a roll and pop back into a crouch behind the wall safely out of sight- and only a handful of feet beside the largest of the monsters, sending him nearly hopping back into view before he registered that it was soundly asleep. He breathed a silent exhale, trying to slow his racing heart back to the already rabbit-like sprint of good old sneaking into a monster-camp level of adrenaline. 

 

This close, he could guess it was a moblin of sorts, based on the pig-like features and the size, even if it was far less beefy than the moblins he’d seen amongst the Chain’s world- maybe something related, then. But the smaller monsters were definitely bokoblins, and their scrawny build made him suspect that’s just how the ‘blins were built here. 

 

And would you look at that: seems like the monster had been using a sword, far nicer compared to the wooden club Legend gladly traded out for the weapon resting beside the monster’s clawed hand. 

 

The moblin snorted, reaching up to scratch its belly as it shifted, the Veteran gone still and anticipatory as he stared intently at it. But it didn’t wake, only continuing to snore and stink to high heaven in peace, and Legend narrowed his eyes in contemplation. Head cocked to the side, he lifted his new sword thoughtfully, examining the poor quality of the steel and forgery flaws and how despite that, it still easily took the thread of magic he fed into it. 

 

Yeah, that would do. 

 

Along the length of the blade Legend honed an edge sharper than the metal itself of magic, precise and cold and bloodthirsty, rising just enough from his crouch behind the wall to bring it down across the moblin’s throat with his whole body, letting the power flare as he made contact. The paper thin edge cut through the neck effortlessly, and the careful surge ensured it drove through the vertebral column without pause as well. As he’d half expected, the blade shattered under the manufactured force of the strike, brittle despite its receptivity to his magic. He ducked tight to the stone ruins, immediately snatching up the club he’d tossed aside, blood pumping as he waited for the sound of footsteps, magic near vibrating along the ground in anticipation of a monster’s approach. 

 

Nothing though, even as the moblin’s body twitched and went up in smoke, leaving behind a metal shield, more teeth and horns and some kind of organ that pulsed . Legend stared blankly at it for a second before scooping up the shield and stepping past, darting out once more under the cover of his stealth spell to the base of the archer’s tower. 

 

A silent ascent up the ladder, and a moment to contemplate how to kill the bokoblin soundlessly before he moved. 

 

A spark along his fingers, and a hand to the back of the monster’s neck to deliver the shock and paralyze the vocal cords long enough for him to hammer a blow across its skull as it turned to him, knocking it from the platform. He hopped after it, knowing the silencing shock wouldn’t last long, and two mighty blows later Legend was standing over another disintegrating monster corpse, victorious and smug. 

 

They weren’t infected, by the smear of noxious purple blood along the bat, and he smirked in grim satisfaction at having been proven right. Legend gathered the bow - a sad, weak, wooden thing- and the meager handful of arrows, surveying the pathetic haul of ramshod weapons on hand with furrowed brow. 

 

It wasn’t much, but it was more than enough for this bunch of monsters. He slung the lot over his shoulder and slunk off to loop back around the ruins to take out the second archer, finding a chest with a much nicer bow and immediately swapping them out on his back, dismantling the first for its bowstring, which he wrapped around his wrist for now. The second archer was silenced with an arrowhead drawn across its throat, and just as deftly dispatched with all the brute force of a pissy hero with only a bat on hand. 

 

“Alright then, you lot- your turn,” he said, making no effort to keep his voice down as he stalked with purpose towards the rest of the monsters, stealth magic draining from his steps. 

 

They didn’t stand a chance. 

 

In the aftermath, he brushed the slivers of the shattered bat from his hands, coolly surveying the scattering of wooden monster weapons and rough-hewn shields. He brought down the orb -well, pushed down off the platform, really, but the thing proved sturdy enough- and settled it in the middle of the camp. Another exploratory loop rounded up another semi-acceptable non-rusted sword from a chest, but that was where his luck ended, it seemed. 

 

The slab of rock across the pedestal would. Not. Be. Budged. 

 

It could be rocked, balanced atop it as it was, but the weight was too massive to shove aside, and there was nothing he could use for leverage without risking it tipping back and crushing him in the attempt. He settled onto his heels, glaring at it as he rubbed his wrist, longing for his power bracelets, or his bombs, or any of his other tools that would make this easy . 

 

Hell, he’d even take Twilight at this point. Or Wind.

 

(He’d take any of them- no, focus, he’d get all of them back once he moves this thrice damned, goddess forsaken, mother fu -)

 

Legend could force it away with his magic, but the blast necessary to move a stone this heavy would wipe him out completely, especially without a potion to help him recover. Legend wasn’t so desperate as to leave himself possibly passed out and helpless on a strange island, not when the size of it meant there was more to do than just this one task. From the lower height of this plateau he could already see an enormous monster at the center, asleep for now but massive enough for even him to be wary of jumping in unprepared to face it. 

 

Giving up on the slab for now, he followed the edge of his raised area to where he’d seen the other camp below in his initial loop, hosting two archers along an odd, ascending series of platforms within a tree.

 

And another orb, orange as well, and just as poorly guarded as the first. No pedestal in sight, but maybe another lump of rock was stacked atop it hiding it from view. Just because he could from the advantageous higher ground, Legend sniped at the closest bokoblin, the first arrow skittering past its feet before the second landed solidly in its chest. He watched, fingering a third arrow begrudgingly as the bokoblin lived, still, staggering on its feet but functional enough that he used up another of his precious supply to finish it for good. 

 

Legend grimaced. “Thought I was a better shot than that,” he said bemusedly, frowning down at the perfectly serviceable bow in his hands that could neither shoulder the blame nor bridge the gap of his seemingly mediocre archery skills. 

 

Only three arrows left. The other archer was farther away, possibly out of range and hopping mad, firing uselessly up at him as he gauged the distance before muttering, “Dammit,” and opting not to waste any more arrows on potshots.  

 

Forced to admit defeat and face the monster on a level playing field -fair play was for idiots - Legend sulked away to once more try to find a way down that didn’t involve a failed attempt at rock-climbing. One quick sweep along the edge of the plateau and a few rocks thrown into the air proved that Hylia still didn’t love him; he could either bruise his tailbone further on another fall down a cliff or take a chance leaping into the water. 

 

Well, he doubted the third time would be the charm so far as spontaneously developing climbing skills.  

 

With that, he secured the weapons on his back with the pilfered bowstrings and took a running jump off into the ocean.

 

A second of freefall, satisfaction that he’d successfully avoided the rocks, and then contact. 

 

He plunged all the way to the bottom, gently folding his legs and pushing off the sand in one smooth reversal of momentum. The water was cold, but tropical still, waves and currents hassling Legend as he surfaced and turned to the shore with quick, knifing strokes.

 

A distinctive splash- puh! sound rang out, and to the clamor of angry mental alarms Legend ducked below the surface just in time to avoid the rock as it shot overhead. Fantastic- a whole new world and yet there’s still octoroks of some accursed variety. He took the opportunity to continue shorewards underwater, saltwater burning his eyes as he forced his way forward. Sand nestled in underfoot, and he plunged up and forward, sending a venomous glare to the octorok as it leapt out to search for him again. 

 

He reached for his bow, only to promptly duck into the waist deep water again as it turned out there were two of the damned things. 

 

Legend beat a retreat inland under fire, fingers itching to peg the monsters but knowing they weren’t worth the last of his arrows. It didn’t stop him from throwing a rock of his own at one, even if it did nothing but bounce harmlessly along the balloon top peaking out above the water.

 

Unsatisfying to the point of being rude, that. 

 

Face already set in a scowl, eyes glinting with irritation, Legend turned to the tree fort, confidently striding forward knowing the archer was on the other side of the tree and well out of sight. 

 

Only to come to a stop, making solid eye contact with a third ‘blin archer who’d been hidden from view on the plateau, standing lookout from a little watch point nestled at the edge of the clearing. It watched him right back, raising a horn as Legend brought his bow to bear and fired off a quick shot. 

It missed, of course, because he was competent with bows, not good enough with them to snap off a split second snipe. The horn rang out, cut off sharply as Legend’s second shot hit its mark, the Veteran already sprinting forward to finish it off as it fell off the platform. 

 

What are the chances that woke the slumbering giant?

 

He hissed down at its beaten, disintegrating body before twisting and abruptly raising the shield in time to ward off an arrow from the final archer, a pale bokoblin. “Yeah, I’m coming for you next!” He shouted, pointing at it threateningly as he trotted over to the stairs leading to the monster’s position. Another arrow plinked off the shield to roll off in the grass, and Legend made note of that for later as he went, all too aware of his exposed legs even if the bokoblin was ignoring them. 

 

They were better archers than he was accustomed to, but still couldn’t track a moving target for shit, luckily. He made his steady, furious way up and wasted no time drawing his sword on the monster- Legend’ll give it this much; the silver bokoblin was stronger than the others, but a bow was no match for his skills in close-range combat. It ended with the bokoblin’s own arrow shoved messily into its eye, Legend plucking it back and the others up from the ground they’d fallen to and shoving them into his own quiver. 

 

He paced up resting a hand on the orb before opening the chest to find-

 

Another bow. Fantastic. What he really wanted was a sword made by a competent smith for a change, but it seemed that some kind of handicap had been deemed necessary by this forsaken island, on top of all his own gear gone missing. 

 

He had better get that back once he’d beaten whatever awaited, or else . 

 

Still, he wasn’t going to leave semi-respectable weapons behind; this too, he swung over his back under the shield. Then he looked over the land around him from his vantage point. 

 

And looked harder, before cursing as a pedestal failed to appear upon a second perusal. 

 

“Where-” A shove on the orb, sending it bouncing down the stairs with heavy, metallic thunks “-the fuck is your thrice damned pedestal.” It bonked into the tree and rolled along the platform, Legend hurrying after it to nudge it with his foot down the next set of stairs. The ball fell off the side halfway down, thunking onto the grass with a puff of dirt, but there was no harm done to its smooth sides, the orange glow not dimming or flickering at all despite the abuse.

 

Legend hopped down beside it, frowning as he paced around the ball before sighing. “Don’t move,” he warned it, before spinning and heading back towards the beach, giving the accursed octoroks space enough to go unnoticed as he proceeded to walk along the outer edge of the island; the easiest way to get a vague lay of the land without getting lost, considering he knew it wasn’t overly large. 

 

The sky had bled into the soft light of sunrise, and he paced along at a brisk walk, noting in the growing brightness that the water was littered with octoroks that caught notice if he wandered too close to the ocean. Where the beach was made of sand it was sprinkled with crabs and lizards aplenty, skittering when he got too close but an assurance he wouldn’t starve nonetheless.

 

Then the sun came up, and for a moment he was ensnared as it flashed across the water, looking out across an endless ocean on a clear morning, a song carrying along the breeze as Marin- 

 

Stop it. 

 

His breath was shaky as he forced himself to turn away, focusing instead on traversing the beach ahead as the sand gave way to spray-slicked rocks instead. He’d rounded the far side of the island from where he’d first awoken,  but there was nothing of note so far but forest and-

 

And a small section of rock rising from the water, the pedestal’s orange light melding with the rising sun’s across the water between it and the shore. Another orb must be nearby then, though a glance down the beach along the other side of the island showed nothing but another small camp of monsters at a campfire. 

 

“Might as well be thorough,” Legend muttered darkly, hefting the sword into his hands. One pathetically easy fight later and he was gazing at the mainland as he cleaned monster blood from his sword, just far enough off that swimming wasn’t a possibility. 

 

Distance wise or monster-wise, unless he managed to clear a path through the proverbial barrier of octoroks.  

 

In lieu of swimming his way to freedom he opted to search the forest for enemies or a glowing ball, or maybe just anywhere that was far enough away from the sound of crashing waves and seagulls’ crying. 

 

It didn’t work- the island was too small to escape the sea sounds. But though there was no reprieve there were distractions. What he found was three-fold, in total: 

 

A pond comprised of a muddy sludge that he desperately hoped didn’t hold the orb. 

 

Banana trees to compliment the palms along the beach, and some trees that had a terrible, odorous spiky monstrosity as well that Legend was fully considering a weapon whether or not it truly was one. 

 

And lastly a mother fuck ton of octoroks, which -despite the brutal satisfaction of literally punching one into popping- were a pain in his barely-clad ass, now significantly more bruised after a couple instances of slip-sliding into trees or banging his shin on a fallen log while racing to smack an octorok. 

 

All he can say is that there was no orb in those woods, and no octoroks either, not anymore. 

 

So after one hike through the patch of forest and enough cursing to burn Hylia’s ears, Legend was back at the second orb he’d won, rolling it right back through the woods to the backdrop of cheery early-morning bird song and the ever steady beat of waves on the shore. By the time he got it to the water he was sweat-slicked and panting from shoving the rolling dead-weight up and away from every little slope -his heart had nearly stopped when it began to make its heavy way down towards the sludge pond, ye gods .  

 

A new problem presented itself as he plopped to rest on one of the boulders lining the shore, looking at the stretch of water, then at the heavy metal ball, and then at the platform raised three vertical feet from the surface. 

 

Why him, why.  

 

Legend abandoned this one too for now, because if it looked like an impossible task then there was probably some gear on the island that was made for moving circular things or creating bridges or something very finely tailored to this exact problem, and like hell was he going to waste time trying to work around it if the solution was sitting in some cave in the unexplored corner of the island. The Veteran settled the orb comfortably amongst the boulders where it wouldn’t roll, gave the pedestal -so close, yet so far away- a last baleful squint, and went to finish checking out the only section left. 

 

The last corner of the island was a small hill with an ascending ramp curling around to the to and a large claymore abandoned on the beach, but of greater importance was the raft at the base of it, a ramshackle little thing with a ragged sail, planks firm and not rotten when he testingly tilted it-

 

- water-swollen wood under his cheek, waking to the sound of seabirds and the pain of sun-scorched skin, weak from dehydration and numb with the realization that they were gone, that they’d never been there in the first place - 

 

Legend shook his head sharply, the memory fading slightly even if the pain in his heart and scent of salt stayed sharp. He forced his frozen legs to move past the raft, ascending the last hill in something of a daze and finding another pedestal there, covered with metal boxes and guarded by yet more monsters. They shrieked as they saw him, the hylian making no move to hide, purple eyes dark and distant with memories he couldn’t shake with the ocean all around him. 

 

Fighting though, has always been effortless. A blink and the sword was in his hand - no, in a bokoblin’s gut -, another and he was kicking a second monster into the flames of the fire they’d gathered around, settling slowly back into his skin at the familiarity of clearing a camp, the waves and the rush of blood in his ears melding together to something more benign than the drowning recollection threatening him on all sides. 

 

One of the zappy yellow blobs jumped at him and he parried, still detached enough that the implication of the sparks across it passed him by.

 

( Were they real , or was the storm scent in the air just his mind again?)

 

His blade struck electrified, conductive gel in a clean slice, and Legend was instantly shocked, sword jumping from his hand as he jolted spasmodically and staggered, falling as the ground sloped beneath him, as-

 

- he’d known he was in trouble long before the storm hit him, the towering bank of dark clouds dragging its cape of rain ever closer even as he tried to outrun it in a ship far too small to weather what was coming.

 

But the knowing was nothing to being within the belly of the beast, climbing the waves as they crested like mountains around him, his sail tearing free in the winds screaming past, leaving him adrift and helpless to the toss of the angry sea around him, soaked and praying as he turned his eyes heavenward, the delicate lacing of a lighting bolt tracing across the sky before jumping down to meet him. 

 

The electricity scorched him from within

 

Seizing his muscles and leaving him stiff, still, and helpless

 

He fell to the ground the deck, breath skittering in his lungs as his heart and diaphragm and muscles tried to remember how to jump back online.

 

Another jolt of motion threw him against unforgiving wood as his boat began to capsize, the storm darkened sea fading altogether as his tenuous hold on consciousness gave way completely- 

 

Another shock, a warm gel pressed across his side tingling painfully across his skin as his body jumped once more, hand seizing around nothing. 

 

He would wake up to her, now, to paradise lost.

 

Legend came back to himself with a gasp, rolling away from the electric chu as it moved towards him, yellow and sparking again while its fellow was dark and recharging from its own attack. The scent of salt was in the air, thunder rolling behind him, and he gave himself a fierce shake as he gained his feet. “Stay here,” he shakily ordered himself, forcing his gaze onto the strange monsters, the island he had never seen before. 

 

Never been marooned on before . 

 

“The skies are clear, and you’re not there .”  If his voice was too thin, if his eyes were white-rimmed and grip on the bat he’d pulled from his back desperate, no one was there to see or sit him down later to talk it out, Time, Warriors . 

 

A chu leapt at him, discharging harmlessly enough as he skittered out of the way, farther than needed to escape the electric field it put off, but he was hyper-cautious now of his questionable ability to keep the present about him if he was lightning struck zapped again. As the electricity dimmed he swung out with the wooden club and it burst into smaller chunks that flopped and wiggled from the force of falling but made no move or show of sentience. The final bokoblin was circling around him, lunging in with a squealing overhead strike as Legend leapt clear of the last chu’s sliding attempt to shock him. 

 

The bokoblin took the hit instead, and Legend got a third person point of view of its jittering, shocked-still suffering. He scattered the discharged chu and cracked open the bokoblin’s skull with his bat, taking its own from the ground to finish the job when the wooden weapon shattered under the hit.

 

He stood panting in the aftermath, eyes darting around for any further threats, attention jumping to a lizard as it made a break for the tree. That was it though, only a scattering of teeth, horns, and discarded weapons remaining alongside the yellow blobs of jelly. 

 

Legend gave them ample space as he moved past, sniffing cautiously at the meat roasting over the fire before hauling it off to toss away and replace with a fish from one of the many unfortunate octoroks to cross his path. As his meal cooked Legend re-armed himself, unconsciously frowning at how easily his weapons were breaking on him. Only the metal bow remained from the original weapons, and that most likely only because of how few arrows he had to use it with. 

 

As he sat he considered the red barrels across the fire from him, marked with skull and crossbones and very much of interest to the curious hylian. Cocking his head, he moved closer, inspecting them and sniffing the distinct tang of gunpowder along the seams where they were sealed. He eyed the fire with a hum, before turning to the metal crates upon the pedestal and giving an exploratory shove. 

 

Nothing. They far outweighed the orb, it would seem. 

 

Mulling the problem and prospective solution before him, Legend meandered over to the edge, gazing down on the massive, still sleeping monster, squinting at the orb hanging around its neck, orange glow visible from his new angle. 

 

He really should have guessed that was where the third one was, honestly. Now the question was, would blowing a crate up atop this hill wake it up? The horn at the second orb’s camp hadn’t, and that had been closer and prolonged. Legend didn’t want to tackle it quite yet, not with what half-assed gear he’d managed to scrounge up and break on even the weak monsters, but this? Dropping a couple of explosive barrels on the monster seemed like a decent place to start.  

 

There’d been barrels at the first camp he’d taken down too,so he had room to play around with these and still have some left. 

 

And really, he couldn’t exactly use them without testing them, right?

 

Hyrule would agree. Anyone would, really. 

 

So Legend rolled a barrel over to the crates, then after a thought rolled the second one well clear of whatever explosion should ensue. He was debating which wooden weapon to sacrifice to the experiment when the fish that had been steadily burning finally caught fire, landing him with burnt fingers before he’d even successfully blown anything up. But finally he lit a spear, resting it at an angle to contact the explosive barrel once it burned far enough down, and promptly raced down the slope and around the bend of the hill, only his head poking out to keep an eye as he laid safely against the vertical rise of earth. 

 

And waited. 

 

In hindsight, there’d likely been a better fuse - he only belatedly remembered the bowstring he’d scavenged around his wrist, but there was no telling how fast that would burn or if it would go out before igniting the barrel. He could also possibly light an arrow and fire that, so long as he covered it with something flammable enough to keep alight during its flight, but he had so few that to use it here felt a waste.

 

Minutes passed, and he took the time to peacefully sunbathe in the afternoon heat, patiently watching as the spear’s whole length caught, then the barrel alongside it, the whole array crackling merrily-

 

Without warning the inside of the barrel lit, and there was a thunderous explosion as the whole thing went up in a swell of flames, the array of junk piled atop the pedestal flying out of sight and shards of flaming shrapnel whistling past overhead.

 

Legend let out a low whistle, standing and carefully stepping around flaming patches of grass; the pedestal had been cleared and remained utterly unscathed, much to its acclaim. The explosion was smaller than Legend had expected though, likely due to the age of the powder and the dampness from any rain upon it in all its time here. Potent enough though, based on the complete decimation of the wooden crates. 

 

Lovely. 

 

Legend smiled, surrounded by falling cinders and flaming wooden shrapnel. It only lasted a moment though before the last of the adrenaline eased off, his gaze turning to the mainland. 

 

He couldn’t swim there, but with the raft… He considered staying here, blowing up the creature; it had only been a day and he had two orbs down and all the pedestals secured, if not entirely put into place as they should be. 

 

And yet.

 

Legend was no quitter, but he was plenty aware that he was distracted here, that his mind kept slipping him seamlessly into a world long lost to him. He had gotten lucky, that the flashback in that last fight hadn’t gotten him killed while he was ensnared in memories. The thought of leaving all this unfinished was galling, but the anxiety drilling into him everytime he let his focus slip, the haunting doubt at how real it all seemed - was it though? Or was it another dream? - was wearing his nerves thin already. 

 

He’d not been here a day, yet, and he already felt on the cusp of losing his mind. 

 

Legend didn’t have the fortitude to deal with this, not anymore- he could feel himself slipping closer to a breakdown with every tiny scream of wrong scraping over his magic like nails on a chalkboard. He wanted to get away from it, from all the reminders and similarities that waited like pitfalls all around him here.

 

He needed to get away, to get back to the others. It would be better, then, back in the real world. 

 

(How do you know that’s the real wo-) 

 

Clenching his fists tightly enough to hurt, Legend wandered down the ramp again, batting away the flaming chus as they popped up from the ground with a crackling warning along his magic. They either hadn’t been there on his way up or hadn’t managed to catch him in his dazed ascent, slow as they were. The thought of being so out of it that he hadn’t noticed an enemy made his skin crawl, only driving home how poorly equipped he was to see this through. 

 

He paused, staring at the grass and thinking of the orbs, all right there if not for the complications that seemed utterly pointless. Was it a test of skill? Of ingenuity? Of magic, perhaps? Surely there was something at the end of it, likely important for the rest of his adventure if he’d been dropped here at the start, and yet- 

 

He didn’t know that, and nothing seemed to be about to tell him, either, not past whatever half-assed explanation played while he was being oh-so-helpfully electrocuted upon arriving. 

 

Trapped, with an objective he didn’t understand and that he didn’t care to; the ever pressing whisper of ocean play rasping along raw memories, the past trying incessantly to drag him away at each reminder on this accursed island. It wasn’t Koholint, wasn’t close, even, but an island it was nonetheless, and his battered, mine-ridden mind was more than capable of filling in the gaps. 

 

(Why was it so easy? Was it because this was a dream too? )  

 

He didn’t know, he didn’t know and he thought it was but maybe, maybe it wasn’t-

 

“Enough, enough !” He screamed, digging his hands in his hair as he tried desperately to get a grip on his spiralling emotions. He wasn’t doing this- he couldn’t - 

 

He would come back if he needed to, but Legend could not bear staying on this island - in these memories - for another goddess-damned minute without losing his mind.

 

Sobbing breaths ripping through his chest, Legend raced back to the raft, scooping up the large, battered claymore without a thought and pushing the seacraft out into the water. He mounted it, twisting a hand in the mast’s rope with a practiced ease he determinedly ignored, setting haunted purple eyes on the mainland and the calm stretch of sea between. 

 

An octorok popped from the water, and Legend silently shrugged the shield into his hand and deflected it back, all the irritation from before scooped out by the rising paranoia that this island wasn’t what it seemed. 

 

That it was exactly as he feared, really. 

 

The wind was weak, and twisting, but he caught it nonetheless, face grim as he slowly snailed his way past the octoroks peppering the shallow waters along the shore. Farther out, more monsters awaited, water spraying in wakes behind them as they cruised along in great loops. The wind died altogether as he caught the attention of the closest, waiting with sword until it stopped a distance away, firing shots of water at him until he finally managed to wrangle the bow off his back one handed behind the shield, wasting far too many arrows before it died in the waves. 

 

Waves, belying the windless mast above him. 

 

His breath snagged in his throat, and Legend crashed to his knees, using the shield as a paddle to move forward towards the mainland, right there, just over there -

 

The raft spun in a circle and began drifting back towards the island despite Legend’s attempts to keep them moving away from it. He tried again, and was gently rebuffed, and again, snagging two of the aquatic lizards’ attention. He was bashed against the mast as he failed to block simultaneous water shots from two different angles, a cut opening across his forehead as he desperately fired upon them until the ocean was still around him, more monsters wandering farther off. 

 

Legend panted - gasped - as he curled once more over the water with his shield, finally falling still as he watched the blood dripping from his forehead swirling and get dragged away by the current moving him inexorably back to the island, stronger and faster now that he’d gotten farther, undoing everything to set him drifting back to shore. 

 

He let it, this time, too lost in his own spiralling mind to do anything but accept what fate he’d been consigned to, curled gasping and blindly staring into the air as he shook and fell apart. 

 

Another dream then, it would seem.  

 

------------------------------------------------------

 

He must have passed out at some point, opening gritty eyes to find he was beached upon the sand once more.

 

Sun-warmed skin, palm trees swaying overhead, a kind, concerned face-

 

“No,” he rasped, forcing his eyes closed, grasping out with magic that slipped over lifeless sand and water without anchor. Legend fumbled off of the remains of his ship raft, faltering until he hit the vegetation, letting the warm press of the plant’s living magic bolster under his own, proof that this wasn’t in his-

 

-head. But if it was, and he knew how the sensory net felt, did it really mean anything at all? All the proof he had was in his own mind, and everything there was only supplement to the dream around him. 

 

There was no way to know, then. 

 

(He was already aware- he’d not realized on Koholint, not until it was laid out plainly, and even then the thought had been rejected at the dream that felt so real, so solid, the love-)

 

Legend lost more time after that, enraptured once more by an island girl’s waking song. 

 

--------------------------------------------

 

The sun had set by the time he was finally ready to go on once more. Numbly, he waded through the water, raft bobbing along behind him as he hauled it towards the orb he’d left upon the shoreline rocks. The empty-eyed hylian nudged the wooden platform as close to the boulder-laden shore as he could, slipping carelessly over the stones before hauling up the orb and staggering with it over to the raft. He turned to gauge the distance before simply jumping onto it, landing as he’d wished at the center but nearly tipping forward at the sphere’s sheer weight, raft tilting dangerously but ultimately bobbing its way to nudge up against the pedestal. 

 

Legend took a step towards it, and the whole platform tilted as the weight shifted, threatening to capsize until he moved back to the center. Blank-faced, he heaved it up higher in his arms before spinning and tossing it up; it landed with a resounding metallic clang and rolled slowly away. 

 

He leapt after it, gauging his shin painfully on the edge of the pedestal as he scrambled up it and dove for the orb as it wobbled near the edge. A hand stopped its imminent fall, and he guided it into the divot at the center. The sphere settled into place with a soft hum, the color shifting to a turquoise glow matched by the pedestal once more. 

 

Nothing else happened, and Legend let himself plop to sit on the stone with a short despairing scream. Burying his head in his hands and breathing shakily as tears burned at his eyes, he tried to get a grip on his fraying emotions. Nothing was supposed to happen- there were three, and this was only the first. 

 

He felt like crying nonetheless, though, so he did, and as the evening dragged on he felt the riotous emotions pull away, the world setting itself at a safer distance from him than before. There was a dangerous kind of apathy creeping up on him, now, and Legend couldn't tell if it was better or worse than teetering on the edge of another episode. 

 

Better, probably. Less painful, certainly.

 

If this was a dream, best to get it over with. 

 

(At least this time there was no one else here, no one to grow attached to and kill leave behind once he woke up again.) 

 

Legend finally tottered to his feet, light-headed in a way that hinted he’d gone too long without food or water. He sighed, closing his eyes in exhaustion, and made his way to the campfire he’d seen along the beach, only to twitch at the combination of coziness and the waves under the stars, and the memories they were far too reminiscent of to bear. The Veteran abruptly turned into the woods, pausing only long enough to rip off a few bananas that did little to ease the oily nausea of a day spent on edge. He settled in, eyeing the island around him as a whole, cleared of everything but the final monster. 

 

Tomorrow, he promised himself, and let the weary defeat of the day draw him into restless, shallow sleep. 

 

----------------------------------

 

He woke again not long later, groggy and startled, hand jumping to his sword before he realized there were no monsters around, despite the vague burning along his senses that spoke of dark magic. Legend groaned softly, barely a breath of sound as the ache in his bones hit fully, the nauseating aura hanging so heavy in the air sapping strength he didn’t have to spare, not after a day spent warding off memories. He cast out to try to get a better sense of what was happening, tripping over the crawling sensation that spoke of dark things nearby, before he was blindly forcing himself to move despite it all, because whatever was causing this, whatever was affecting him like this, it had to be bad . 

 

He had to get up, had to fight or get away-

 

His thoughts were fever-fogged and slow, and as Legend stood a dizzy spell nearly knocked him back to the ground before he found his feet, sword held limply in one hand as he staggered to stay upright. Hazy violet eyes checked the woods warily for any sign of what was causing the nauseating grind of dark magic, but there was nothing. 

 

He could feel it, though, the malice that ran through every monster sworn into evil’s service, rich in the air around him. And yet, a small, wobbling loop around the tree only proved he was truly alone there, and that so long as his area was secure he was in no shape whatsoever to be trying to pick a fight with anything . Legend’s head was throbbing, and it felt far away and near unattached as he tilted and fell into a tree trunk, even that short trek leaving his knees weak and wobbling beneath him. 

 

Malice snagged across his sensory magic like barbed wire, and Legend was snapping it back from the plant-life around him without thought, the pain forcing him into immediate retreat. He blinked open eyes he didn’t remember closing, nearly doubled over and only held upright by the tree, panting shallowly through the pain and sickness that had come out of nowhere, far too quickly to be natural. 

 

Legend raised his head to stare into the forest, pushing himself upright. A few exploratory steps away from the support of the tree confirmed that he was going nowhere and fighting nothing. The sword in his hand was immovably heavy and thereby useless, his surroundings spinning slightly as he struggled not to tip over. 

 

Damn it.

 

Black dots swarmed across the grass before him, and he admitted defeat while he still had grace to do so, foggily aware of just how close he was to nose diving into the earth.

 

Distantly, a part of him shrieked in alarm at his helplessness, but Legend was exhausted, his head pounding and sluggish, and there was nothing to be found and nothing to be done when he was in this condition. The Veteran staggered back to the sad padding of leaves he’d been resting on and promptly passed out, the moonlight just beginning to peek through the canopy of leaves across the grass and his bare, bruised skin.

 

Scarlet, it was, bright as spilled blood- an unseen omen of what was coming. 

 

--------------------------------------- 

 

What felt like seconds later Legend was rousing once more with a feeble moan, barely aware of anything past the way his magic burned inside him, everything warping around him and writhing vilely across his magic. A breathless shudder ran over him as he flinched at a wave of pain, abrasive power rushing over him for a handful of moments before fading to a slightly worse threshold than before. Weakness followed in its wake, and after a brief struggle against the drag of unconsciousness -one he wasn’t sure he won-  Legend managed to pull his eyes open again to find the forest cast in a bloody red light like a nightmare come to life. 

 

“What… what’s going on?’ He muttered, flinching as his skull squeezed around his brain, sitting up to brace his back against a tree only to curl to the side as the forest swayed around him. Malice surrounded his limp form like a poisonous fog, building around him in a way he’d never felt before apart from Ganon’s direct presence. 

 

Was he here, then? Is that what this is? But no, not even facing Ganon’s hate and vile aura had brought Legend down like this, nor left him so helpless as he felt now. 

 

He couldn’t afford to be so weak, though, magic be damned. 

 

Legend dragged himself to his feet by sheer force of will and drew his sword, the tree the only thing keeping him up as he was forced to brace a shoulder against it, but to look around it was only the same forest- tropical, empty, and significantly more foreboding with red moonlight cast over it. He squinted up at the sky, making out the angry crimson of the moon through the canopy before almost falling over in another dizzy spell. The press of the dark, vicious magic over his own was sickening and inescapable, even as he drew it inside of him in a vain attempt at buffering the sensation. 

 

It didn’t work- and his head rolled limply to press against the tree bark as another wave of suffering caught him in its grasp, knees going limp before he managed to stab his sword into the ground and drape over it, determinedly staying upright as the world around him blazed and burned.

 

When it passed he was collapsed on the ground with no memory of falling, covered in a cold sweat and shivering in the night air, weak and ill and afraid. There was no sign of any enemies, though, or source of the phenomenon. Only the building magic and the fearsome, heart-racing effect it was having on him on top of poisoning his magic. 

 

As if he’d needed the help. 

 

The night wore on, and Legend’s grip on reality slipped completely as his thoughts grew scattered and delirious, as Marin’s voice rang out more strongly than his own fevered murmurings, as the dream around him turned into a nightmare as punishment for what he’d done to her. 

 

She forgave him, she screamed at him, she renounced any of her feelings for him. The cold steel of the knife she stabbed him with burned in his stomach and spread across his skin, the warmth of her embrace as she tried to soothe his suffering the only thing that kept him sane as the malice thickened around him. 

 

Hyrule’s musical murmurs hummed lowly nearby, Warriors’ scarf draping over Legend’s fever-damp shoulders a comfort, even if it gave him no warmth. Ravio’s soulful eyes, a shade darker than his own, watched sadly from the cover of leaves before the shadows consumed him and took him home. 

 

The Veteran panted on dry, rancid air, alone with monsters raised by a poisoned mind, shivering and distant eyed in the bloodied dark of the night. He called out desperately to empty air, making weak, aborted attempts to rise before passing fitfully into unconsciousness. His temperature spiked in answer to the malice as it seeped into his body and magic, and the hylian was helpless to stop its rampage.

 

Legend screamed as every nerve lit up in his body, curling into a ball with a strangled cry as he tried to escape the air, the atmosphere, the magic that enveloped him. 

 

His heart threatened to beat out of his chest as wild eyes took in the forest around him, all stark black trunks and shadowed leaves and smoky fog- and what if he’d missed a creature, what if something was coming while he was helpless, while-

 

Legend thoughtlessly cast out a thin layer of magic once more, and it promptly sizzled away amidst the dark magic seeping like miasma over the ground. He jerked at the pain of a chunk of magic being bitten away so suddenly, body seizing up in shock before writhing slowly as the magic swelled higher, the hate and hurt so thick he couldn’t breathe through it. 

 

Through flickering eyelids he saw the blaze of the crimson moon, saw malice so potent it was streaming through the air. 

 

The building wave hit its peak, the power vibrating in his bones the truest form of agony, before all at once it crashed down in a blaze of pain and darkness.

 

There, at least, it didn’t hurt.

 

Notes:

Legend in a desert: Magical sensing? In THIS economy?

Legend, upon waking up on an island: oh my god do I have to actually face my traumas
*Random monster wanders up*
Legend: Oh thank god catharsis here we come

Legend @ the pedestal under the slab: I’m coming back for you, baby. I’M COMING BACK FOR YOU

Hyrule, actually actively feeling out how much magic Legend has: Wh-whe
Legend, smug as shit: hm?
Hyrule, raised on stories of the Hero of Legend’s grand magical prowess: Where IS IT *gently bapping at Ledge’s magic as if more will appear from the aether* LEGEND WHAT DID YOU DO

Legend: okay I think I finally got this panic thing under control
Blood Moon: (ʘ ͜ ʘ)

First off- if you haven't played Breath of the Wild and have no idea how Koholint Island is laid out and are curious, here's a video of a run through for that part of the game
Anyways, I kept spontaneously re-remembering that Legend was in nothing but spanks throughout this whole chapter, and it was hilarious every time

Next order of business: why yes, what has Legend so thrown for a loop that whole time /was/ the malfunctioning shrine’s magic, not that he realized it. All he can feel is that something is wrong, and as he is, already on edge about dreams and islands and sick from the messed up arrival, he jumped to a conclusion. A wrong one, but considering the circumstances and his history he can hardly be blamed. The sensation would obviously be worst right next to it, but he’s in no mental state to notice the intricacies of signal strength.

What can I say I love the idea of Legend kicking a dozen plus monsters’ asses with barely a scratch but bruising and cutting himself left and right tripping over things and falling down cliffs lol. He’s so on top of it when fighting but the instant he’s just moving around or trying to multitask that hyperfocus just bites him in the butt.

Idk guys super attached to the concept of our ever vigilant veteran totally cheating his magic-broke ass into a halfway decent sensory range and shamelessly fooling everyone into thinking he’s a very powerful mage when in REALITY he’s super careful and the only impressive thing about his magic is his god-like control over it. Because strong Legend is good, but secretly mediocre Legend who’s so good at faking being strong that he unconventionally IS is even better~

I’m partial to Legend having that cold, mercenary attitude towards monsters, especially when the alternative would be having a(nother) breakdown on the beach. With the Chain present, it reroutes more to overprotectiveness and a more thoughtful approach akin to Warriors’ take on fights, but unlike the Captain Legend’s default is just fully feral fighter; he pays a mind to tactics, but though clever he’s single-minded in his goal to KILL EVERYTHING and less so on minimizing casualties (except, again, when the Chain is involved). That served him well on his adventures when there was no room for trauma and no one he had to keep safe or to watch his back when he needed it, but like Time he really does cope best when there’s another person around.

This chapter was intentionally meant to be slightly a mess to read, because /Legend/ is currently a mess and his POV reflects that fact. He’s caught between thinking this is a dream and hoping its reality, and doubting everything and everyone in the meantime. I’m tossing him between (unhealthy) focus on fighting monsters and warding off panic attacks every time he stops to think about what’s actually happening around him; he’s learned how to be functional (?) despite the many mental landmines he’s got, but sorry Ledge, sometimes there’s no stopping it.

Oh, and as of this chapter we’re officially about the same length in the google doc page count as Follow the Lights. Oof. Chapter count has been updated to more accurately reflect how much more material there is to cover- ideally I’d get all of Legend done in the next chapter, but I know better than to expect to fit 2 Follow the Lights chapters into one of Don’t Go’s, lol

Chapter 11: I’m Just Gonna- *Unkills Your Monsters*

Summary:

Legend fights down the urge to strangle someone for their own good.

That ends up being morbidly ironic.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings:Blood/Violence, Descriptions of weight loss, strangulation/suffocation, panic attacks, flashbacks
Time until Wild Contact: Legend’s been here for 1 day, 9.5 hours
Chapter Spans: 5 hours or so
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 8

Purple eyes snapped open. 

 

Faster than thought, Legend rolled into a crouch, immediately falling forward to brace a hand on the ground as his head threatened to spin right off at the quick movement, the forest tilting around him before finally settling upright once more. Nothing was glowing with embers or whirling with dark energy around him, though; the vicious crimson glare had been traded for clean silver moonlight once more, with no trace of the nightmare he remembered. 

 

Externally, at least. The air may be cool and fresh once more, the magic settled into a peaceful background hum around him, but Legend could feel how his own energy was aching and scorched and emptied out. Probably half his symptoms stemmed from the fact that the majority of his magic was gone , though he had only a dim, indistinct memory of crimson agony and scalding fire as explanation to where it went. There was a lingering weakness in his limbs and a headache setting up shop in his skull, but the dizziness at least was abating as he breathed in deep, even counts. 

 

What. The fuck had just happened.

 

Another glance at the sky, but it was the same innocent, blase night as he’d expected when he’d gone to sleep.

 

 So it was just… done, then?

 

What was the point? Torture? The experience had been bad, yes, but short-lived, and without terrible lasting repercussions. No, that much dark magic was a waste; if its only directive was to hurt Legend; there were far easier and effective ways to do that. 

 

Just drop him in a dream again. 

 

Even though he’d been utterly vulnerable, no enemy had even come to take advantage of his pathetic state- not even whatever or whoever had summoned the event. He’d been easy prey, and by the very fact that he was still alive the Veteran knew he’d never been the objective there. 

 

It must have done something else, then, and he was just collateral.

 

Standing proved his legs steady enough, even if he could tell his reflexes would be dampened until he recuperated in full. Stretching out the worst of the soreness, Legend assessed his magic stores before letting them settle safely within him; he could afford to depend solely on his physical senses while his magic recovered. It may have smoothed the way on the island so far, but nothing he’d come across had needed anything but a blade or a bludgeon to take out. 

He could already tell the rest of the night was a bust- after the disaster he’d awoken to before, there was no way he’d ever relax enough to fall asleep again, no matter how weary he still was. The Veteran had gone plenty longer without sleep- a handful of hours was not going to be what finished him. Instead, he opted to kill two birds with one stone and grab some more seawater to boil off while taking a better look around to settle his nerves. 

 

Legend was three near silent steps past a clump of ferns when he heard the tell-tale soft pop of a hellspawn leaving the earth, a deceptively adorable sound that sent him from level-headed caution straight into incandescent disbelief. 

 

Giant googly eyes searched the darkness, the fluffy bush upon its head jostling softly as the round monster curiously looked for the source of the rustling leaves Legend had brushed past carelessly.

 

“Where the hell were you hiding?” He demanded with a snarl as he hefted his sword up, those bulbous, roving eyes honing in on his voice immediately as it squeaked and fired off a rock at his head. Legend hopped out of the way far enough to dodge, then cursed and skittered farther when stone shrapnel tore across his bare skin. 

 

He watched it land and burrow and disappear completely, plant and all. Nothing to visually track its underground movement, even though he could still feel the faint rumble of the earth under his bare feet. A puff behind him marked its exit, and he turned and only barely managed to parry the rock with his shield; it had fired immediately and was gone again before he could reach it. 

 

This one was faster, then. Fantastic. Legend moved to at least have a tree at his back and was immediately bombarded by two more rocks, more of the googly eyed fiends popping up from the forest he had definitely cleared of octoroks yesterday. 

 

Fresh monsters, then, summoned in? But why waste that kind of power on octoroks , of all things, who were more of an annoyance than a danger. 

 

With that much energy being thrown around, though, maybe a time-shift was the more likely candidate. It had been a well of magic, and there was plenty of precedent from Time’s adventures, at least one of which definitely involved a time loop he knew about from lore more than anything the Old Man had deigned to share past some mutterings about moon allegory or some such. 

 

It was a working theory, but it made more sense to have a deadline on an island quest and a reset than for some unknown entity to go through the trouble of transporting balloon monsters in. 

 

Unless the point was to piss him off, in which case- nailed it.  

 

These octoroks were much faster than those before, and much sneakier. It had been easy to predict their movements the first kill round, but they’d seemed to have learned, hiding the plants that marked their paths and providing cover fire for each other. 

 

If he didn’t know any better, he’d think they were infected, now, which should be impossible.  

 

Ah, but it would only make sense though, wouldn’t it? If this was to be a slowly declining nightmare, why not further blur the lines between what he knew to be real and believed to be false?

 

With a flashing glance sideways Legend managed to redirect a rock to take out an octorok nearby, the monster’s fragile membrane tearing apart under the blow as it keened and faded into malice smoke. The other two he tried to lure out of the forest into the open grass, dashing in a zig zag out into the open. He stopped and spun, spreading a sensory net just long enough to feel the dark well of magic underground stop and rise, lunging and flinging out the sword to run the blade across the octorok as it surfaced. He nearly fell over mid-swipe as his foot landed on a stick and he unconsciously lifted his weight from it, but even if only the very edge of the blade skimmed it the metal tore through the fragile membrane of the octorok’s balloon with ease. There was a sad wheeze, and then it puffed away into smoke.

 

Delicate things, if you could manage to land a hit. 

 

Legend staggered, cursing at his injured foot -it was the already bruised one, at least, saving him one foot for full use- as the other octorok hesitated near the trees. He stared balefully at it before bending down to pick up the aggressive branch, one pointed prong bloodied. He tossed it in hand, weighing its heft. 

 

The octorok puffed up, eyes closing as it brought another rock into its mouth, and Legend hurled the stick at it. The pointed branch flew end over end in a clean arching line, the monster opening its eyes just in time for the stick to lance it. 

 

There was a very unsatisfactory pop, and a much more satisfying keening squeal, and then it was gone too, leaving only an odd balloon and more fish. 

 

Legend tsked, waiting warily for a span of moments to make sure he hadn’t caught the attention of any of the other octoroks before twisting around to look at the sole of his foot. A finger long gash, bleeding but superficial, though that meant little when wandering round an island barefoot atop it was just courting infection.

 

Monster grunts a ways off sent him crouching to the ground, sword flashing out in the moonlight. His head snapped towards the beach and the campfire he’d nearly spent the night at, surrounded once more by a trio of ‘blins. 

 

Time loop it was, then. Looks like he had a day to beat this test. 

 

Legend hesitated, weighing singular focus on the orbs against wasting time clearing out any threats. He couldn’t be certain if defeating all the monsters was also an aspect of the test, but it was doubtful, considering how many were in the ocean. Without a tool at hand he couldn’t reasonably be expected to clear all of them as well-

 

There was a sudden blue shine on the far off mainland atop one of the higher overlooking peaks, the turquoise glow alien and bright against the night sky. It was a match for the building he’d arrived at, even if it was already dimming away, while this island’s continued to zap and shine. He waited, but there was no further sign of anything against the dark, star-laden sky. 

 

Something to worry about after he’d passed the island’s test. Legend looped around the forest towards the orb that had rested with the bokoblin archers in the tree fort, not willing to endure playing whack-a-mole with a handful of octoroks again. He stepped softly around the large monster, ducking behind the cliff face and peering around to gauge the layout again. 

 

The orb wasn’t there. 

 

But- hm. Forest it was, then, to see if the blins moved it- infected as they could be, some level of strategy on their part wouldn’t surprise him that much. Legend carefully circled around through the trees, startling an octorok and stabbing it instinctively before it could more than squeak. He circled the tree fort, ducking quietly from the archers’ view, but there was no glowing ball to be found. 

 

If it wasn’t here, then where was it?

 

Where you left it, perhaps? He mocked himself internally, face twisting in consternation as he realized it could very well still be perched on the pedestal. Could time travel hold some elements outside of itself? Maybe, although Legend didn’t know what kind of magical anchor would have to be used. 

 

It didn’t bode well though, that this test was apparently important enough to warrant such effort. The side adventure he’d hoped would be a quick detour was looking more and more like an issue of grand importance, for all that it currently had him running around an island in little more than what Hylia gave him. 

 

Legend had moved to the eastern beach to avoid the bokoblins parked along the mainland side, retracing his initial survey route around the island. He’d turned the far edge, setting eyes once more upon the pedestal -blue, still, with the orb yet in it, thank all that was kind-  when he felt it. Whisper soft they were, easing in gently as a dandelion fluff on the wind to brush against his mind and settle easily amongst the soulbonds he hosted. 

 

Legend froze in place. Turned his attention to the new hero nestled in his mind alongside the others, nudging testingly at the presence, already as familiar as all the Chain had been upon meeting them. He was far off but coming steadily closer, unresponsive to Legend’s tugging and the rising panic and shock that drowned out any degree of comfort afforded by companionship in this hard time. 

 

This was a dream, he knew it was by the strangeness of it all, by the way his own thoughts and memories seemed to influence what was happening and what was appearing and changing the longer he lingered. But then this?

 

It could be another member of their Chain, and this their world. That fit, and he didn’t trust it, not with the answer falling into his lap. It was too easy, too neat, all the corners of a scene snugly tucked into place so he didn’t question it. 

 

So he didn’t doubt what was happening. 

 

Soporific sunbeams through a window- teeth gritting endurance- pale ash dusted over cloth , the dreamed hero sang out, and Legend was already running, already tracking their presence, drawing up short as the Veteran spied him gliding in from on high with some kind of modified sailcloth, looking a breath away from falling into the ocean. 

 

He felt exhausted too in the shelter of their minds, making no move to steer clear of the aquatic octoroks’ firing upon him as he gradually lost altitude. He was headed straight for the bokoblin camp, the idiot, and Legend had no intention of even dreaming how it would feel for one of his soulbound companions to die. The Veteran broke into a sprint, cutting across the grass as the bokoblins were awoken by a rogue octorok shot and began jeering at the incoming hylian, but he was too far to do anything as the other hero’s grip slipped and he fell-

 

Something warped, then, magic smearing around the stranger as his fall hitched oddly in Legend’s perception, arrows flying from his bow too fast to be natural skill. They landed solidly in the monsters near simultaneously, the last one soaring past the bokoblins and into a barrel- a missed shot, were it not for the fact that the arrow was aflame and the barrel explosive. 

 

Oh shit-

 

Legend was too far to help, but he was plenty close enough to be forced to dive to the ground as hot air and flaming bits blasted over him, cautiously lifting his head after a second or two to futilely try to rub the ringing from his ears. He sat up just in time to see the stranger get enveloped with blue electricity like the island temple and the pedestal, like the light in the distance earlier. The strange, wrong magic licked over him, and Legend could feel the other’s panic, lingering even as the power faded, leaving him bereft of clothes and gear as well as he collapsed to the sand. 

 

A disembodied voice spoke, tone warping and mechanical, the same message he must have had going by the shared themes, laying out very politely what was to be done, heedless of the fact that its intended audience was very much incapable of listening, again . Even as it droned on, the newest arrival twitched weakly upon the sand, only semi-conscious if the hazy fear across the bond was any indication. 

 

This was either a very poorly designed system , Legend thought, or an exceedingly cruel one. Standing and warily watching the other even as he noted the perimeters for success being listed out. The other hylian tried to get up and failed, curling in defeat with a heart-wrenching cry as he hid his face in his hands and shouted to the heavens.  

 

“Why? Why is this happening ? Why can’t it be easy?” The other cried hoarsely, twisting to face the water and lashing out at the sand, the blood trailing from his nose dark and violent against the paleness of his skin. “Why can’t you just give me a break, one godsdamned time?!”

 

It was odd, seeing this scene from the outsider’s point of view. It was painfully familiar, wrenching something deep inside his stubbornly locked heart, even as he tried to dig his heels in against the affection and sympathy that tried to rise up. Legend could already feel the insidious draw, feel himself softening to the other's suffering and their shared plight. The other looked young and far too thin in the shallow light of the night, and hopelessness weighed heavy on the bond between them. 

 

He couldn't leave him, not like this. Not with the other so blatantly helpless, defeated and exhausted in the moonlight, just as stranded as Legend was and just as plainly furious that he was at the mercy of their Goddess.

 

“Well now, isn’t this a familiar sight?” Legend called wryly, watching the other hero grasp for a weapon that was no longer there, mildly impressed by the snarl he let out before he blinked and was pulled up short by the sight of Legend, face falling back into exhausted confusion.

 

He scrambled to his feet, only to tip over back into the sand after several staggered steps, scowling and blinking uncertainly up at Legend as he tried to scrabble away from the Veteran’s slowly advancing form. 

 

Legend dropped his voice lower, tone easy and edged with something sad, quietly grieved that the kid’s suspicion was so strongly ingrained that not even the natural lull of their connected souls could tamp out his wariness. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you, kid. I’m a hero, it’s my job to save people like you, not attack them,” he said, aiming for some solidarity with a shared profession. He stepped closer, hands out in peace, and the younger hylian’s face twisted in indignance. 

 

“I don’t need any saving,” he huffed, as if he wasn’t sprawled on the sand too weak to stand. He continued, as stubborn as Wind got after someone accidentally implied he was incapable of a task for sake of youth or inexperience or just because you’re small, pipsqueak . “I’m the Hero, which means I’ll be saving you ,” he declared boldly before moving to prove it, rising to one knee only to nearly tip over again before catching himself with a hand. 

 

Legend took him in, a too-young kid determined that he had to save everyone, so quick to push aside his own misfortune and suffering. Another rush of sympathy, another painful throb in his chest. This was a hero yet untarnished by the world, not yet bitter, or cynical; this was Legend, as he had been years ago, before being asked to give more than he could afford to lose. 

 

Before too much was taken, without choice. 

 

The hero before him was the perfect trap. Helpless enough to draw him in, innocent in a way Legend could barely remember and was equally desperate to protect. Just on the brink of the same hopelessness that Legend could barely escape most days, a fate he’d never wish on any of the other heroes. It was an exquisite tool for torture; someone he’d want to keep close, in whom he saw his past self falling down the same helpless pitfalls that had ruined his own life at a Goddess’ behest. 

 

And yet, the Veteran couldn’t be angry with Link despite it all, any more than he could be furious at Marin. 

 

Only terribly, wearily sad. 

 

Link closed his eyes and nudged the bond, the bright, simple joy of its presence plain to see across his peaceful features, companionable comfort radiating from his mind. In the next second it soured, though, the other hero withdrawing sharply from the bond as he looked at Legend with guarded, uncertain eyes. 

 

He was still sprawled upon the sand, too thin and terribly scarred and on the edge of despair, and yet he’d still been able to feel joy at meeting a soulmate before he’d found Legend on the other end of it. Like this, the hylian didn’t look like a hero, even if Legend knew he was one- he looked like a kid in over his head and desperately clinging to the title he’d been giving as though that held any power. 

 

Like hell was Legend going to stand by and let him run himself into the ground just because Hylia told him that’s what she wanted. 

 

“Yeah, no,” Legend said flatly, an eyebrow arching skeptically as the kid bristled. “You look like shit. If you aren’t the epitome of a damsel in distress right now, I don’t know what is- hero or otherwise,” he added placatingly, and it must have been enough, for the kid finally gave up trying to look tough and slumped, less relaxing then collapsing once he realized he was safe. Legend strode forward and caught him up under the shoulder before he hit the ground, heart near stopping before the hum of the other through the bond assured him Link hadn’t just passed out. 

 

Looking as he did, though, Legend wouldn’t be surprised if it was only a matter of time. So he dragged the kid up onto wobbling legs, hoisting him over to the fire with little mind to the other hero’s feeble attempts to stay on his feet, ignoring the stream of complaints in favor of making sure he wasn’t about to die on Legend. 

 

The Veteran plonked Link down and immediately began to look him over, heart shriveling at what he saw. The hazy light of the stars hadn’t been able to hide all of Link’s condition, but it had masked the severity of it. Legend had felt the bones pressing up too sharply against his own bare skin as he’d tucked the other hylian to his side, had felt how narrow his wrist was as he gripped it to drag over his own shoulders, how light Link had been as he dragged him over to the fire. 

 

It was another thing entirely to see it cast in severe, flickering firelight. In the stark illumination of the flames Link’s face was gaunt, cheeks hollowed and eyes sunken. Stripped of his clothes it was all too easy to see his skeletal countenance, barely any wasted muscle padding the prominent bones. The scars that covered him were no less gruesome, the mottled, thickened surface seeming almost to move in the flickering light, covering the left side of his body nearly in its entirety. They reached across his face and the delicate skin of his throat, exploding out across his chest and stomach before following down his thigh and calf, as if he’d been caught by some kind of vicious fire attack partway through a dodge. Whatever it was had landed regardless, and by the extent of the scarring it was a miracle Link had survived, even with a hero’s hardy constitution. 

 

He didn’t look hardy now, though. Link looked as though the recovery had sapped him of whatever strength he’d had, for all that they were fully healed. For a moment, Legend feared that he’d only just received them, had speed-healed himself with fairies and potions before being dropped here, barely on the cusp of surviving a grievous wound-

 

But no, Link may be stressed and jittery, but he showed no signs of giving a single shit about his own condition. Not even Legend would be able to shake off the shock of such a hit so quickly, even after the physical trauma was resolved. The other hero moved easily even with the way they hampered his movement, and that only came with acclimation over time. 

 

Legend shook himself sharply, then. He’s a dream- what does it matter what false past has been drawn up for him? This hero wasn’t real- his scars and the story behind them weren’t real, and Legend couldn’t afford to get invested in him. 

 

Not again. He couldn’t do it again. 

 

Swallowing the knot in his throat, Legend affected a casual tone, even if he couldn’t stop the way his posture kept tensing up and arms continued to default to crossing in front of his chest at this whole mess and the sad, sickly illusion before him. “Hylia dump your ass on an island out of nowhere too?” 

 

The other started from where he’d been looking Legend over as well, expression falling even farther into confusion and dismay. “I came here on my own,” he said hoarsely, giving his head a little shake. A moment of hesitation, unease vibrating over the bond. “I’m Link, called Wild by the rest of your Chain. You were all scattered across Hyrule, so I’ve been picking you up and taking you all back to Kakariko.” 

 

The rest of the Chain was here, then? In this world as well? For a moment he could almost let himself believe it- that this was only another member of their group being added on and that they’d all reconvene and continue forward. That this could truly be so simple, so painless, and that he was wrong, despite…

 

The insidiously paranoid part of his mind stepped in then, and Legend remembered perfectly well how he’d been fresh out of an adventure when Koholint had… occurred. A seamless transition between what was real and what seemed only a temporary stranding, except that he’d been stuck on the island until he’d solved its riddles. Marin had known there was a world outside the dream, had talked with Legend about leaving and what was out there, had made plans and promises as if there’d ever been a chance-

 

Enough , he ordered, pleaded. 

 

The parallels couldn’t be ignored. Here was Link- Wild- playing the part of the native familiar with the scenario, just as helpless in his own way as Marin and the people of Koholint had been. He could speak of the others all he wanted, but until Legend set eyes on them, he had to cling to his doubt. He could handle finding out this was real after believing it false, but letting this hero past his defenses and finding it was another trick, another person he was only ever going to lose-

 

Legend knew his limits, and he knew he was dangerously close to the edge of them now. 

 

“Why aren’t they here?” He asked fearfully, voice shaking, eyes pinned on Wild with avid focus. Even now, he couldn’t crush the hope that tried to well up inside him, the part of him that wanted to keep Wild, to let him in and trust him. 

 

Wild seemed to sense something was wrong, shifting self-consciously before answering. “I couldn’t bring them with, additional passengers are too taxing with the shrines messed up as they are now.” He twisted, lifting a hand to point at where Legend had first woken up, the construct still shining and zapping- apparently that was not the default. “That’s why your gear is missing- it was the quest to unlock this shrine, defeating all the monsters and placing the orbs in the pedestals without any resources as a way to prove my worth as a hero,” he explained, slumping tiredly as he looked at it before burying his face in his hands.  

 

His next words were soft, and muffled, but just as defeated. “The glitching must have had it running the quest again, I don’t… gods, I can’t do this again.” 

 

Legend shared the sentiment. 

 

He watched the other begin to tremble, overwrought and ill and being all but told he was no longer deserving of the favor he’d already earned, and the Veteran couldn’t help but try, for Wild’s sake. 

 

He knelt in front of the weeping hero, voice soft and intense. “Can you promise isn’t a dream?” Legend asked, the plea as useless as a prayer to Hylia.  “Do you swear this is real?”

 

His voice broke on the last word- nothing would be enough, not truly. He didn’t know what he wanted to hear, what would convince him, only that he desperately wanted to believe, to know for sure, for once since waking up and having everything cast into doubt. 

 

Legend wanted to feel safe again. 

 

Wild’s reply was soft and smooth as a dreamer’s, distant and forlorn. “I wish escaping were as easy as waking up.” 

 

The Veteran closed his eyes in shared pain, caught for a moment in the swirling hopelessness gradually magnifying between their two minds, a weariness that dragged him down into despair so deep that Wild’s next words couldn’t pierce it. “This is real, Legend, I promise.”

 

If only a promise was enough . But his jaded, scarred heart couldn’t bear to believe, not when the cost of being wrong was so frightfully steep. A bitter, defeated ghost of a smile twisted Legend’s lips, eyes burning with tears he didn’t have emotion left to let fall. 

 

Legend couldn’t afford to trust Wild’s word.

 

Something like fear darted across the Champion’s face as he seemed to sense as much, those viciously blue eyes moving desperately over Legend’s resigned, sorrowful mien. ”Can’t you feel it, though?” He implored, suddenly agitated. “I’m just like you, and just like the other Links. That’s a tangible connection, spirit deep in a way you can’t dream.” Wild reached over, fingers brushing softly over Legend’s hand. The Veteran stared down at it, face unmoving, emotions locked down so they didn’t drown him.

 

The Champion visibly faltered then, doubt creeping in as he received only stony apathy. “I felt it with the others, and with you. Isn’t that enough?” 

 

‘We love each other, and that’s enough,’ she’d said with such calm assurance that it had seemed impossible that it couldn’t be true, as if all the fairytale promises that love could conquer everything were, for a beautiful moment, honest truth. He’d gripped her hands just as tightly where they were joined between them, and believed her whole-heartedly.

 

Legend opened his eyes and was back on the darkened beach, another promise, another false premise being delivered to him with all the tempting glitter and kindness he couldn’t bear to swallow once more. Legend would have laughed, something shaking at its core and thoroughly grieved, if Wild hadn’t looked so terribly fragile in that moment. Instead, he forced himself to temper his bitterness into something gentler, aiming not to break but forced to deliver a harsh truth regardless. 

 

Wild must have picked up something from his mind for he flinched as Legend clasped his shoulder.  “I’m sorry.” The words were absolutely insufficient to the heartbreak that lashed out between their souls, even if they were earnest. Legend felt himself fall away from the world a bit, the only defense he had against the emotions running too strongly between him and Wild. Everything settled at a safer distance, the sharp edges of painful memories softened by the fog creeping through his mind. 

 

He blinked, purple eyes empty and vaguely sad. It was easier, now, like speaking of someone else altogether. Just… explaining a stranger’s suffering off of hand-written notes.

 

“Of course I can feel it, Wild. I just… I was caught in a dream once, and didn’t realize it until it was too late,” Legend said simply, his gaze shifting over across the black waters. “Sometimes, I still wonder if this adventure isn’t also…”

 

Another phantasm? The island was a dream had to be, warned the creaking of his mind but his friends, the other pieces of his soul? His brothers in all but blood? Legend took that thought and held it, feeling something shake in horror even past the soft dissociation at the possibility, some unseen foundation threatening to crack under the weight of that realization. 

 

He couldn’t bring himself to regret having ever known Marin, nor loved her, but Legend knows that it would have been far less cruel a thing to have lived without knowing what that kind of loss, that kind of betrayal feels like. 

 

You were a lie, a part of his soul keened, and I have never been someone who could live under the weight of that knowledge, not even for you.  

 

Legend looked at Wild, that scarred face stricken and pale at the Veteran’s dismissal. He was owed an explanation, at least, and while he was still in that safe, distant state of mind Legend would grant him what he could. 

 

“I loved someone, then,” he started, voice somber and slow. A muted flare of sorrow showed that Wild knew the significance of the tense, turned inward in a way that hinted at yet another shared tragedy linking them together. 

 

Legend drew farther away still, a head that was barely his own anymore tipping back to look at the blanket of stars, seeming to loom ever closer. For a moment he thought he’d get lost in them, before settling back into himself a little once more. 

 

Careful , he warned himself. Don’t fall too far into the dream.

 

He breathed in slowly, feeling the distant sting of old pain nip at the edges of the fog as it retreated some. “That emotion was real, that connection painfully real , even if she wasn’t,” he stressed, eyes sharpening for a moment from their haze as he turned to the other, because it was important that Wild understood, that he knew Legend still cared, no matter how futile or fleeting or agonizing it would be in the end. 

 

“So yes,” he iterated with great care, “I feel the link between our souls.” A moment of pity, before he spoke the gentle truth into existence: “And it doesn’t mean a single thing.”

 

Wild’s sharp-taken breath stabbed between them as he flinched back in body and mind alike, shock and devastation flooding into the void dread had been steadily tearing open within the soulbond. The Champion curled as if punched in the gut, gasping unsteadily as he reeled, and Legend felt a flash of concern even through the fog surrounding his emotions, wondering if it had been too much compounded on Wild at once, even as he knew there was nothing he could change now.

 

The Champion choked back a sob, turning his face away, but could not seem to rally a response. Legend was helpless as he sat at the side listening, unable to offer any comfort in the face of the pain he’d caused, not when that heartlessness was all that was keeping his head above water right now. The time for salvaging the situation slipped past them both in hitched, stilted silence, neither capable of giving the other what was needed to soften the hurt. 

 

Finally, though, the worst of Wild’s pain quietened and Legend spoke before the Champion could route them right back into the dangerous waters they’d just left behind, desperate to move them to a safer topic. 

 

“Your gear was stripped away as well? What’s that, then?” He asked, indicating the bow and quiver left back where Wild had landed. Legend wasn’t nearly as surprised as he should have been when the weakened hylian tried to get to his feet to fetch them, flinching minutely as Legend pressed his shoulder to keep him seated. His breath hitched warningly, and his voice was thick with tears still when he answered, but he followed the misdirection obediently enough. 

 

“Ye-yes. I wasn’t sure- the monk locks my slate’s inventory upon arrival, but when I drop an item it’s no longer logged as inventory. I can’t believe it worked,” he laughed wetly, before the weak smile crumbled altogether into slump-shouldered sadness once more. “Shit, I should have emptied out more stuff, then. At least some potions and protective gear…” He murmured reproachfully, fingers clutching tightly at his wasted arm. 

 

Legend patted him firmly on the shoulder, feeling him sway slightly under even that. He soothed the other easily enough, brushing off Wild’s regret with the ease of someone with a rich history of poorly-thought out mistakes. “Any weapon is a huge help, especially if these are what blew up those barrels earlier. I’ve seen more monsters around the island; something that explosive will come in handy. Oh, no you don’t,” he cut in, hand tightening as Wild made another quickly aborted attempt to rise despite the fact that he was barely staying upright on the ground. 

 

“Sit your ass down and rest for a minute,” he ordered, mind whirling over what to do to help with barely any supplies available. Under his hand, whip-cord muscle shifted over bone, Wild’s neck terribly slender as he leaned his head back to gaze at Legend with a pout that worked in ways likely unintended with the large, haunting eyes in a starved face. 

 

Food- that was absolutely first up on things that they needed. Get Wild fed before he passes out, and then they can deal with… what to do next after that. And a walk was the perfect way to clear his mind completely and stabilize his bearings so he could maybe actually step up and support Wild for a change. “I’ve got some fruit I’ll bring back, then we can talk about what to do from here after you stop looking like you’re going to keel over,” he said, pausing a step away to make sure Wild wasn’t going to do anything stupid like faceplant into the sand or try to stand. The Champion only blinked back at him tiredly, dried blood cracking across his face as he frowned. 

 

Legend sighed at the sight, before taking his shield in hand and going to fetch some water so Wild could at least clean his face. There was a flash of embarrassment from the other as Wild realized what Legend was doing, which was hilarious considering the Veteran’s own grimy, less than sweet smelling state. Like he was going to judge someone for having some blood on their face, whether it was their own or anyone else’s.  

 

He watched Wild take off the worst of the dirt, eyes roving over the dark bruising and watching for signs of tenderness in the other’s movements.  “Any other injuries? I don’t have any bandages or potions, but I should still know-” Wild was shaking his head, though, and seemed to dismiss the bruises as superficial. 

 

Fair enough, but Wild looked this way for a reason, and he had to know what it was. 

 

Legend cocked his hip, arms crossing as he looked down at the thin hylian. “You sick then? Because there’s no way there’s nothing wrong with you- you could barely walk over here with my help,” he argued, because if something was wrong, whether it was illness or circumstances, he wanted to know, so he could-

 

He pulled up short. Could what, stop it? Fall headfirst into the dream and live here, fixing everything wrong with Wild’s false world?

 

He almost missed the answer, between his own whirling thoughts and how quietly Wild spoke. “The ah, shrines. It’s exhausting to use them, and I’ve been making a lot of trips to grab you all. It’s- it’s a lot, right now,” he admitted, and with his eyes drooping and posture slumped he looked frighteningly fragile. 

 

A half-hearted flail of his hand beckoned around them, exhaustion staining every word as he went on. “There’s stuff on the island that’ll help- with some bugs and lizards I can make an elixir or two, even some that’ll be useful to fight the monsters.”

 

Legend’s distasteful look at the idea of having to find enough lizards to make a meal of immediately fell away to a bright spark of interest at these elixirs , which sounded much more interesting than simply consuming- “Lizards?” He checked, before abruptly waving it off. “You know what, not now.” If Wild said he could whip up something that would help with lizards, then lizards Legend would fetch, and the explanation as to why could wait. 

 

He stepped towards the fire, pointing with one hand as he ordered, “Stay here, I’ll be right back. If a monster comes, scream and use that shield and one of these.” The rudimentary wooden spear the monsters had been using was planted firmly within reach of the infirmed hylian, who looked down at it with bemusement. 

 

“Okay? I’ll be right back,” Legend promised, looking up and down the beach for any signs of danger to the vulnerable hero, reflexively giving Wild one last once-over - yup, still looking ready to pass out any minute now- before turning and slipping into the woods before he could hesitate any longer. He made a point of sneaking, this time, in an attempt to at least surprise the few octoroks he hadn’t yet killed. There weren’t any bananas on this side of the woods anymore, but he did manage to grab a mushroom that could feasibly be edible. 

 

After another few minutes without finding anything helpful and quickly becoming antsy about leaving Wild alone in such a sorry state, he gave up on the woods, just as his quiet steps startled a lizard into darting across the forest ground from right beside him. Diving to catch it, he let out an aborted yelp of surprise as an octorok popped up practically on top of them, smoking it with a very purposeful kick that was enough to stun it until he could twist to poke it with his sword.   

 

Legend kept hold of the lizard but did lay there for a minute biting back curses because of course he’d used his bad foot, holding it aloft and cursing more out of irritation then the throbbing pain. He glared at the fish the monster had left behind before begrudgingly grabbing it too and deciding the woods could fuck right off. There were palm trees aplenty along the beach- their fruit would be juicier anyways, and help get more liquids into Wild. 

 

Speaking of, there was an odd wiggle on the other end of their bond, and Legend focused in on to find him on the verge of-

 

Nope, he’d passed out. Wild’s presence still registered but he was out for now, a blank darkness that was unnerving but not wholly unexpected, a fact which did nothing to calm the panic at the sudden silence- he didn’t realize how much comfort he’d been drawing from the discrete emotions of the other until they were abruptly gone. Legend darted back to camp immediately, beelining straight to the unmoving hero and checking that he was stable. Legend rolled him to his side rather than his stomach, ensured his breathing was alright, and sat back to let his heart slow down again. While there, he filled the pot with fresh seawater- the potion would likely need it, and they’d have to boil some up soon for drinking water anyways. 

 

He trotted over and fetched Wild’s bow and arrow from his arrival, also scooping up an odd glowing item that must have been dropped then as well, distributing the lot of them in the pile of items where they’d be as safe as they could get.Then he looped around the campsite just to ensure no monsters were around,  and waltzed over to the nearest palm tree, well within eye-line of the fire and close enough not to leave it unguarded. 

 

It had fruit, of course, at the very top of its not-inconsiderable height. Legend gave the tree a solid series of shakes, resorting to a rock -tossed a few times more than necessary as he missed and missed and ope, missed again, shut up, Wind - with little success. He finally resorted to a tucked-rolling kick to knock down a few of the palm fruit, the victory tainted somewhat by more cursing and foot-clutching. But it was enough to satisfy the Veteran at last, and it wasn’t like Wild was awake to see the less-than-dignified collection of fruit for his scrawny ass’ sake.  

 

The Champion hadn’t moved at all while he was gone, didn’t stir as he dumped the fruit in a clatter of sound upon the loot pile. “Wild?” Legend called, kneeling beside the toppled form and noting how cool his skin was even in the moderate temperature of the night and frowning heavily. “Hey, Wild,” he urged coaxingly, grinding his knuckles none-too-kindly over the sharp jut of the Champion’s collarbone, eliciting a sad, whining complaint. 

 

Something relaxed slightly in his chest at how easily Wild roused, though, and Legend’s tone turned playful in relief, shoulders dropping from their tense line. “Yeah, yeah, wake up, come on. The sooner you get that elixir made the sooner you’ll feel better,” he promised, patting insistently at Wild’s cheeks, careful of how little padding there was there to soften the slaps. 

 

With a groan, Wild finally opened bleary eyes, nearly dropping off again before another insistent tap brought him around again. Impatient to get the elixir made before Wild passed out for good, Legend hoisted him up and dragged him over to the fire. Wild’s head lolled, cheek pressing against his arm, and Legend stopped and leaned in, afraid he’d fainted away with the boneless sprawl of his body. 

 

Instead, he got to watch in bafflement as Wild licked the sand stuck to his sweaty skin in an act of seeming rebellion and immediately regretted it, spitting and sputtering like a kitten into something he shouldn’t have been. The Vet couldn’t help but huff a laugh at the other’s self-induced plight, utterly unruffled at having been licked but thoroughly tickled by how it had backfired. “Serves you right,” Legend said amusedly, settling beside Wild and propping the other hero against him as the other tried and failed to get the sand from his mouth.

 

Wild gave him a big set of sad blue eyes, the picture of regret and remorse. “Legend, c’mon. Don’t kick me while I’m down, damn,” he groaned, before sitting defeatedly with the consequences of his actions.

 

 Legend puffed out another amused chuff before having mercy on the sad scene and reaching over for some water, gathering it in his cupped hands as he grumbled good naturedly. “Fine, fine. Open up, but make sure you don’t swallow- it’s seawater.” Wild eagerly washed the sand from his mouth before slumping against Legend’s side with a sigh, pale and sweating from the meager effort of not falling on his face even with the Veteran’s help.  Legend wrapped an arm around his waist to help keep him up, letting him catch his breath. 

 

A few moments passed as Wild stared blankly at the pot and fire before it became clear he was not, in fact, thinking of anything procedural. Legend jostled him gently, voice careful and firm as he tried to nudge Wild into action. “Well, what do you need? I’ve a lot of fruit, a fish, and a lizard, but no bugs. I can go looking for more, if you need me to,” he offered, lips pursed in worry as the Champion sluggishly stirred back to focus on him.

 

Wild gave his head a slow shake, eyes crossing as a wave of dizziness visibly hit him. “Did… you get any durians or truffles?” He asked faintly, and though Legend didn’t know what the first was, the latter could be-

 

Wild’s eyes lit up as they saw the odd mushrooms he’d brought back, leaning forward and dumping them into the pot with no preamble, only quick hands on Legend’s part stopping him from tipping forward into the fire, not that the dizzy hylian seemed to notice. Wild watched with hooded eyes as the truffles jostled around, adding a sprinkle of the seawater as magic tingled warmly around pot and hylian alike. It wasn’t much that he was adding, but it seemed to kickstart something in the truffles, for they bloomed with a natural magic of their own that far exceeded what Wild had contributed. 

 

Fascinating, that. Legend had seen some jewels with innate magical properties, but that’s only because they sat in their environments and soaked in natural energy over thousands of years. He’d never heard of plants with inherent magic as potent as what he was feeling, nor of bugs or animals the way Wild had hinted at earlier. He watched the process with avid curiosity, noting the seemingly haphazard swing and loop of magic as it was added, dancing around as if to a song he couldn’t quite make out. 

 

Even that small amount of effort seemed to wipe Wild of what meager energy he had left, the younger hylian falling back into Legend with a vague hand wave towards the pot, a silent request as his mind warped warningly across the bond. After ensuring the other wasn’t going to pass out - not yet, at least- Legend took over where he’d left off, the small amount of magic enough that he could spare it to learn something like this . He tried to mimic the loops and rhythm Wild had shown, the Champion giving him vague, unhelpful descriptions of the process in the same way Hyrule always did when it came to his magic. 

 

With the Traveler it was colors and sound, all onomatopoeia as if Legend knew what a churred brrrrng and bird song kkfttTrrrlll meant in translation to his magic. Wild tried to describe a rhythm and sensation, and Legend blandly watched him bop his head listlessly for a moment before giving up on making sense of his sad attempt at instruction and going based off of what he’d seen and felt first hand, because clearly they were sensing it in entirely different manners.  

 

A looping distribution that sprinkled down into the food and dispersed within it, like a river winding along a valley. Not much added or it simply… spilled over, for lack of a better description, and he found that the truffles were less receptive to his magic then to Wild’s, no matter how much he mimicked its shape and size and texture, like sunlight caught in every drop of a rainshower. 

 

A more intuitive kind of casting, then. Less his forte, but Legend was plenty creative and more than willing to experiment. He found that the delivery method apparently didn’t matter much- sprinkling it was easiest, but didn’t do anything faster or seemingly better than carefully infusing the mushrooms or carefully surrounding them in magic. Instead, what seemed most important was some kind of complex relationship between the feel of his magic and the shape of it. 

 

Wild had made it look easy, and Legend imagined it was , once one figured out how best to feed their particular kind of magic in. It was figuring that out that was proving to be intriguingly complex.

 

In the end, his array of exploratory additions proved sufficient enough -or at least not so terrible a try as to ruin Wild’s solid start- and warm, healing energy built gradually within the pot as the truffles cooked, the magic finally growing beyond what Legend added, at which point he stopped feeding into the meal. He was pleasantly surprised to find that it was easy to tell once they were finished- the aura about them leveled off, leaving lightly crisped, magic-seeped truffles, looking far more a meal than pan-fried mushrooms without any seasoning or embellishments rightly should.

 

Legend didn’t feel he’d done a very good job after seeing Wild’s work, and yet here it was, a perfectly functional magically imbued dish. It seemed a process that was easy to do but tricky to do well ; he could tell there was more potential there within the food than he’d managed to unlock, for all that it was, technically, successful. It had been almost disgustingly easy in fact, so much so that Wild had done most of it whilst half-conscious, and even Legend found that the process of cooking -and it seemed near blasphemous to refer to the magic-casting as that, when it required so much additional finesse and separate skillwork to the process of making mundane food- hadn’t used overmuch of his exhausted stores. 

 

He gently poured the mushrooms onto a leaf, and while they were cooling began again with the rest of the truffles at Wild’s gentle nudging, sleepy, hazed eyes watching serenely as Legend tweaked his magic’s movement, determined to improve his mediocre success. Wild’s technique didn’t work for his own flavor of magic, leading to some on-the-fly experimentation. Letting his magic drop as a seed and spread as hyphae nearly ruined the whole dish before he drew it back and tried again. Setting a spark and letting it ignite didn’t do anything, the magic refusing to catch and grow. When dispersed as meltwater from snowpeaked spring time, though, the proffered magic fed the truffles’ latent healing properties equally as well as Wild’s had,  less sun-soaked rain then the frost-glazed waterfall that came more naturally to Legend’s own magic. 

 

He finished the second round of truffles with great satisfaction, eyes brightening as he failed to find perceivable difference in his and Wild’s meals, save that his was perhaps less potent; a result of trying to keep moving past the ‘end’ stage and continue adding magic, learning the hard way that it was a bell curve rather than logarithmic as he’d assumed so far as input versus return went. Legend eagerly turned his attention to the palm fruits next, curious to see if he’d have to change his application of magic or how the amount needed would vary between different foods. 

 

The Veteran was nearly done with adding his magic -and the ice blossoms worked fine on this one, too, though the fruit seemed both less hungry for his power and less potent themselves in return- when Wild finally stirred from his semi-conscious supervisory daze and reached for the cooled truffles. The Champion stared down at them for a long while before pursing his lips and rising slowly to his feet, wobbling off without a word as Legend bemusedly watched to see what he was doing.

 

Wandering off into the dark, alone and unarmed, on an island once more populated by monsters- and yeah, “I don’t think so,” he muttered. Legend wasted no time following, removing the pan from over the fire to simmer beside it instead -and could the ‘cooking’ process be paused and restarted, or did that ruin the magic like it would a spell? 

 

Something to ask Wild once his complexion improved from the pale, gray cast and the hollows of his cheeks stopped looking so desperately gaunt. In the meantime Legend once more leant a shoulder to the other, wary but placating as Wild moved over to the cluster of rocks and settled there, far from the fire that had been warming his too-cool bared skin and the rest of the food he’d said would help him. 

 

The only thing keeping Legend playing along was the fact that Wild did have a handful of truffles, and had taken a bite, except that’s where he stopped. The Veteran waited, shifting unhappily and frowning harder until finally Wild swallowed it, seeming to kickstart his appetite some as he began making his way slowly through the rest of the large truffle. Legend relaxed slowly- finally, progress . 

 

Except Wild hadn’t even finished the mushroom before he stopped, shuddered, and promptly threw up what little he’d eaten, Legend’s mind screeching to a halt as he dispassionately surveyed the bright colors on the sand. Wild shivered and groaned, stopped from falling forward as Legend caught him up reflexively, thoughts whirring back into action all at once. 

 

Glittering red for healing, and green for magic. At least one of each, judging by what was spilt onto the sand, and combined with Wild’s intolerance for food and general starved appearance and lethargy, it was all too easy for what he’d been suspecting to slot into place. 

 

“Are those potions?” He asked tightly, already knowing full well they were . “Goddess be good, Wild, how many have you had? No wonder you’re sick!”

 

Wild huddled stubbornly under his hand, and the knobs of his spine pressing into Legend’s palm only hardened his resolve as he shifted to grasp the base of Wild’s neck, gently enough not to be a threat in spite of how desperately he wanted to shake the other. Potion overdose was no fucking joke, and its onset not so sudden that Wild could have been anything but willful in ending up this bad off. 

 

He wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t have to, Legend knew, but that made it worse . What had happened before he got here? How badly hurt had he been, how many times did he have to artificially heal himself for this severe of a case?

 

“How many?” Legend demanded, throat tightening as Wild barely responded, gaunt cheeks leached of color, cold sweat lining his temples and slick where their bare skin touched. How bad was it?

 

His voice was frighteningly weak, nearly inaudible as he pleaded,  “I dunno Ledge, just- just leave me be.” He was nearly swooning, only upright by Legend’s support as he radiated misery and exhaustion, but he couldn’t just leave him be . That’s all he’d been doing this whole time, and now Wild was getting worse, and depending on how many potions were working through his system the other hero’s body could be shutting down. 

 

He could be dying, and there was nothing Legend could do. 

 

The Veteran tried not to panic, even as his mind helpfully offered the manner in which potion overdose could cause a systemic magic collapse, if severe enough. It wasn’t a quick death, nor an easy one, not when a victim’s condition deteriorated with agonizingly slow, inevitable progression, failing for lack of magic until too many components stopped working to survive, starting small and and spiralling into more severe complications until the malfunctions were insurmountable. After a certain point it was irreversible, save by a Great Fairy’s intervention.  

 

There was no fairy here on this little island, Great or otherwise.

 

He had no information, not past Wild’s apparent struggles before arriving and what symptoms he could see, all of them pointing to moderate to severe overdose. There was nothing he could do, not even if he did have all his gear and potions, but he had to know how bad it was, even if Wild wanted to be left alone.

 

Did he, though? Or did he think Legend still wanted to be anywhere but here, by his side as he suffered? Legend had said as much, hadn’t he, selfish and weak even as he acknowledged how ill Wild was before brushing their connection away as if it was nothing more than a burden. Even now, was Wild pushing away his own needs in favor of what Legend, who’d been nothing but callous to him, had forced upon him?

 

There was still time to fix this, he wasn’t dying yet --

 

Legend kept his voice firm even in the face of Wild’s plight and his own sharply rising dread, thoughtlessly giving the Champion a slight shake to rouse him closer to waking as he resolutely insisted, “No, Wild, I need to know how many-”

 

Except Wild wasn’t listening anymore, his stomach tipped over its tolerance by the jostling, leaving the Champion doubled over and thoroughly hampered from answering. Legend held him up as he strained and nearly collapsed in the interim, heart in his throat as Wild brought up more incriminating evidence of how desperate his condition was. His suffering dragged on for far too long, the shivering hylian barely getting a minute’s respite before his body revolted again, bringing up the potion turned poison in an attempt to save itself. 

 

There was far too much color upon the sand already, and with every weak heave Legend grew colder with fear. As great an amount Wild had expunged before them, there must be still more already absorbed in his system, insidiously leaching magic from him as they healed damage the potions themselves had wrought in their overabundance. 

 

Legend was helpless throughout it, wracked with guilt as Wild pressed against his side, bleeding out shamed gratitude at taking comfort in the soul connection even whilst so terribly ill. Legend couldn’t bear the other’s misery and fear of his assumed disgust, doing his best to comfort Wild and reassure him even knowing the other was seeing it as pity more than true acceptance. 

 

He couldn’t be more wrong. Legend didn’t want this, still, a part of him still recoiling as the last ditch attempt at self preservation before it all went wrong, but that the Champion was already very much important wasn’t something he could deny any longer. Whether he was real was fast becoming a non-issue, no matter how fearsome the thought was. For all his attempts to remain aloof -half-hearted and doomed from the start, he can see now- it was already too late. 

 

If Wild were suddenly gone, if he… oh gods, if he died , or if Legend woke up as he longed to, it would feel like a part of his heart had been ripped away. He’d given over a fraction of himself to each member of the Chain, the connection between all of them too deeply rooted in their souls to ever wall off without feeling like a part of himself was missing. Losing any of them would be losing the part of him that was forever theirs, and the Champion was no different. The sense of connection deepened and fleshed out the more time he spent with them, but even Wild, known only for a few hours and mostly out of it the whole time, held bonds to Legend that were no less weak than the others, even for its newness. 

 

And it was at that moment that the same reassurance that held the fears and doubts away when he was amongst the other heroes hit home again. For all that he sometimes wondered, when alone, if they were real or not, as soon as they were near and their minds humming within his soul, the very depth of their presence had never yet failed to anchor him. It was the only time he was ever sure, a comfort that only Zelda, Ravio, and the other heroes could provide for him.

 

 It was impossible to describe, that bond that reached farther than consciousness ever could to settle in at the core of him. It couldn’t be a dream, their presence always promised. Here, now, finally letting himself sink into the soulbond with Wild instead of blocking it off, he could believe it again, the parts of himself that had been steadily shaking apart under the trauma of his past finally starting to steady upon the solid stone of this one, certain fact. 

 

Wild was real, and Legend had been a fool.  

 

Now wasn’t the time to get into that though, not with the concept so fresh in his own mind and Wild only barely lucid in his arms. He couldn’t afford to mess this up again by rushing into it, and Wild deserved a proper apology he’d remember. Legend had his anchor, but the island around was full of triggers still, and he was still reeling from being forced to stay here. 

 

Not a dream ( thank you thank youthankyou- ) but no less traumatizing for its similarities.

 

Wild heaved again, but there was nothing left at last, even as the sand remained painted with far, far too many potions. Legend gently arranged the limp hero, the cool clamminess of his skin worrying enough that Legend scooped up the boneless form and brought him back to the campfire, hoping it could help with Wild’s failing thermoregulation. 

 

It wouldn’t, not if Wild was too far gone ( no, no, nononono ), but this was the only thing he could do.

 

Even utterly spent Wild tried to argue with him, but Legend had no patience left for the other to remain shivering on the sand when there was some comfort to be given. “You’ve thrown up everything you’ve got and then some; there’s no more mess to be made. You may as well be miserable by the fire where it’s warm,” he said, unable to make it anything but gentle. Any heartening Wild’s show of spunk may have generated were quickly snuffed as he gave in immediately, visibly too drained to hold his ground.

 

Hands shaking as Wild seemed to remain firmly in barely stable condition, Legend coaxed some of the juice from the fruit into the most certainly dehydrated hero. As Wild sipped at it he quickly setting up a condensation trap and set some seawater to boiling- the sooner they had potable water, the better, but at least the palm fruit juice would hold them over, even if he secretly feared it would be too sweet and rich for Wild’s currently finicky body. 

 

God’s, he hated being right. 

 

Within a few minutes Wild was sick again, his potion-riddled stomach ruined for anything, no matter how badly he needed the fluid. The intolerance was a bad sign, but he was conscious still even if semi-delirious, and there’d been no seizures- the first of the indicators that Wild had entered the final downward spiral of system collapse. 

 

Please , he begged of a Goddess he’d plenty of proof didn’t care. Don’t you dare take him.   

 

The connection vibrated between them, beautiful and painful and precious despite the danger it represented, the devastation it would wreak if Wild died and took a fraction of Legend’s heart and soul with him. 

 

He’d sworn he’d never find out how it felt to lose one of the others, and that wasn’t changing just because they now numbered nine. 

 

Legend hoped they were alright, heartened by the fact Wild hadn’t seemed worried about them when he mentioned the other heroes. He didn’t have the focus nor emotional capacity to spare at the moment, couldn’t afford to start on the what-ifs for all of them or else he would break down. 

 

He wasn’t used to feeling this fragile, had thought he’d moved past it after spending months struggling to come to terms with the repercussions of waking the Windfish, Zelda and Ravio remaining steadfast supports as he hit his all-time low. They weren’t here, though, nor were the other heroes who had -purposefully or simply by being linked to him- filled the same role; all he had was Wild, and the Champion certainly had his own issues to be dealing with. 

 

Legend could hold on longer, clinging onto the bond for reassurance. It was enough, and no burden on Wild. If he could manage to pull himself together, maybe he’d be able to give some of that comfort back at last, could finally be a proper soulmate to the other as Wild deserved. He sent gentle, calm waves to the other hero’s mind, hoping they’d help even if the other had proven mostly blind and deaf to their soul connection on-goings.  

 

Wild had time- time enough to recover, and for Legend to fix this, to be better . 

 

The Champion curled up, trying to sleep off his illness and failing, breath hitching in frustration and suffering as he drifted in and out of a shallow sleep. Legend longed for Time and his ability to send any of the hero’s to sleep, but that, at least, was something he couldn’t replicate. He inched gradually closer as the other tossed and turned fitfully, finally easing Wild’s head onto his lap, the Champion bonelessly accepting of the transfer. 

 

He remained just as unresponsive when Legend began to gently massage his scalp and untangle his hair, ever so careful not to pull on it despite the knots. The other hero gradually relaxed, face smoothing out a little even if the pain never eased enough for him to fall asleep despite the bruised bags beneath his eyes. He dozed off intermittently, but would twitch awake minutes later, despite all Legend’s attempts to keep his rest calm and undisturbed. 

 

It was only hours later that he finally managed to keep down some water and food, nearly turning the meal down without even trying  before giving in to Legend’s all too blatant worry. The Veteran would feel worse at manipulating Wild’s desperation for any kind of acknowledgement even if it was concern, but with how weak the other was, anything that got him to eat was fair game. Seeing the younger hero looking steadier with some sustenance in him was an enormous relief, Wild markedly more lucid and alert at last.

 

He settled more water into Wild’s hands, having already drunk some for himself to ward off his own bout of dehydration. Gently, Legend reminded himself grudgingly before breaking the silence, to Wild’s visible regret. “We’re going to talk about this, you know. You can’t just vomit your brains out and expect to get away without explaining yourself,” Legend deadpanned as Wild tried to avoid his pointed eye contact yet again. “I mean damn,”  he said with no small degree of dismay, “Do you know how many potions you need to drink at once to overdose like that? And by that I mean how many fucking potions did you drink, Wild, to overdose like this?” His words were tight and precise at the end, more barbed than he intended, his worry leaching out as misguided frustration.

 

That the Champion was improving was a godsend, meant he would likely be fine with some care and caution, but Legend was taking no chances. Wild squirmed, blinking heavily as he struggled, apparently, to count them all. 

 

Goddess be good, that was a bad fucking sign. Legend waited and watched with growing dismay until Wild finally mused, “I mean, it would have been around ten?” 

 

That wasn’t- “Ten?” He repeated, blinking rapidly before his face creased in confusion. 

 

“Over… the last 36 hours?” Legend was silent, before leaning in close to Wild’s face in warning- if he was lying, so help him - but the other’s expression was wholly guileless. “I haven’t needed to use any recently until you all showed up and the shrines got messed up. I swear!” Wild yelped, and truly didn’t seem to be trying to trick him. It would be the height of stupidity to obfuscate something so dangerous to his health anyway, which means that either ten potions in a few days had gotten him improbably ill, or potion overdose had never been the problem after all. 

 

“But that… shouldn’t be enough for you to react this badly,” Legend puzzled aloud, gaze darting around thoughtfully. “It’s not great for a span of only two days, but nothing near dangerous. So why are you so sick?” He asked rhetorically.

 

Wild shifted, answering nonetheless “My elixirs aren’t quite the same as your potions, I don’t think. Wind leant me one of his red potions, and it tasted and felt different from my hearty elixir equivalent. Although, I’ve never had this problem before either, not even in the last attack on Ganon when I was constantly chugging one of those elixirs or another.” He seemed very understandably unenthused by his condition and the unknown cause, and Legend was right there with him. 

 

“Maybe it’s just the exhaustion compounding with everything else- have you been using a lot of magic?” This wasn’t just straight magical exhaustion, but if Wild was on the brink of such using that many potions could easily compound the issue-

 

Wild  blinked owlishly at him, shaking his head in bewilderment. “No, we don’t have magic users here like you all are familiar with. I certainly don’t know any.” He finished with a charming smile, as if Legend hadn’t earlier learned some magic casting from him that was simple and ingrained enough to be shown whilst barely lucid. That naively amicable countenance drooped quickly under his withering stare, but he couldn’t rein it back, not in the face of something this ridiculous. 

 

“Are you stupid?” He asked honestly, throwing a hand sharply out. “Of course there’s magic users here. There’s potions, or elixirs, or whatever the fuck you call them. What the hell do you think they’re working off of, if not people’s magic?” Wild’s eyes contained not a spark of comprehension, only looking equally entranced and cowed by Legend’s rant. 

 

He wasn’t done, either, not if this was the problem and Wild had fallen headfirst into it out of naivety. “That’s exactly why you can overdose on them, you idiot. They use up your magic to heal you, and you only have so much to give before you start suffering the consequences. The better the brewer the less magic it takes; they add most of it in the making,” he explained with increasingly desperate exasperation, taking in Wild’s helpless confusion; the Champion truly didn’t know about any of this. Not even as a matter of being unfamiliar with the process- he’d said it was unheard of at all, even despite elixirs apparently being a common healing aid. 

 

So either there was a truly mundane form of potion in this world -he’d believe it when he sees it- or someone was making them, but it wasn’t being called magic, at least not colloquially. Legend hummed, side tracking with great intrigue as he tried to trace that line of thought back. “But you think you’ve got no magic users… I wonder if it isn’t taking almost all of it from the drinker instead; if all you’ve got is innate magic you wouldn’t even realize what was happening, especially if the ingredients’ inherent magic is lending the potion its properties. It would explain the magic used in cooking, too, without you having realized what it was,” he mused aloud, fascinated by the concept before the implications suddenly sank in.

 

There were only so many reasons this wouldn’t be common information, and none of them were good. 

 

Wild was watching him, puzzled but politely listening anyways, oblivious to the way Legend’s stomach was slowly dropping. “You don’t know anything of this? Nothing?” Legend asked, sharp purple eyes watching as Wild shook his head slowly. “Was there no one to tell you?” He guessed, voice softening at the familiar shame before him.

 

Wild avoided his gaze, murmuring, “No,” something of self-consciousness creeping into his expression. A familiar pain, that. Far too many of the Chain were orphans in some sense of the word, but this spoke of a deeper issue. That wasn’t just personal loss, but the permeating shame of a duty failed. It was all too similar to the look Hyrule would get at his own perceived shortcomings as a hero reflecting in his damaged, poisoned world, ignoring how that was far from his fault and could never have been remedied in a few short years- heaven knows, if anyone could have done it, Hyrule would have. Information and skills were scarce and difficult to learn and share, and Hyrule had plenty of gaps in his knowledge base that he’d been just as ashamed of upon seeing how easily said information was disseminated in their own worlds. 

 

It seemed Wild’s world had a similar issue, even if it likely wasn’t total ruin of the kingdom based on the lush, healthy island around him. 

 

There was no other explanation for how the hero could possibly not know that magic exists, not after using it and drinking elixirs made by it. That it was just missing from the common store of knowledge wasn’t as insurmountable as it would have been before he’d traveled Hyrule’s world and seen for himself how destruction destroyed knowledge bases and lines of learning, but… 

 

It was a struggle he hadn’t wanted to see again, especially not when Wild too was bearing sole responsibility for whatever had caused it. Guilt and disgrace soured the bond between them; something was wrong here, Legend just didn’t know what.

 

It probably had something to do with why he’d been brought to this world, though. 

 

Wild continued, pitch rising as if to comfort Legend, as though his empathetic response were anything compared to Wild’s own emotional turmoil. “It wouldn’t have mattered, even if there was. No one knows anything like that, anymore. That kind of knowledge is long lost.”

 

Oh, no. Similar to Hyrule, indeed. Knowledge on things like common magic weren’t just lost - that took a certain degree of chaos and destruction, of society scattering and falling apart. He longed to ask, to learn, to comfort, but Wild’s body language had shut down, and there was little Legend could say, not when he knew nothing of the issue, and had already given up his right to be Wild’s confidante, nonetheless push him on something he so clearly didn’t wish to open up to him for. An unlabeled emotion lurched in his stomach at that realization, that he’d already fucked up the sacred connection between them. 

 

He’d taken it for granted with all the others, but with Wild he’d done his best to cut it off at the start. Legend had done it to himself, didn’t deserve to feel grieved by the loss, and yet- 

 

Wild was right there, and Legend couldn’t do anything to comfort him, not without rubbing salt in the wound he’d inflicted. 

 

It wasn’t the time for this talk, not yet. All he could do for Wild now was lighten the mood and move off of the painful topic, squashing down his own feelings on the matter. Legend gathered himself together, shoving aside the pain and regret in favor of getting off this damn island so Wild, at least, could recuperate in peace.  

 

“In that case, you’re lucky to have me; I’ve gone on so many adventures, I know a little bit about everything by now. But first thing’s first- how do we get off this damn island? I tried to use the raft, but there’s currents tangled all around us, not to mention pain in the ass monsters just waiting to fire away at passing watercraft.” He kept his voice light and unbothered, carefully tucking away the raw fear and despair that tried to surge up again at the reminder he was trapped here . It might not be a dream, but it was only fractionally less mentally damaging for the fact. 

 

Wild didn’t seem surprised, though, shaking his head in agreement.  “No, you can get here by raft but there’s no leaving over water until the quest is done. We’re going to have to collect the three orbs and get them to the pedestals.” His face scrunched in frustration, lips twisting unhappily. “Gods damn it, this would have been so much easier if I’d gotten here before the moon brought everything back…”

 

Oh? “Everything as in the monsters? The moon did that?” Legend couldn’t help the incredulity, even as he recalled the odd red moonlight he’d been half-convinced was a hallucination. Then again, hadn’t Time said something about the moon in his time loop as well?

 

“The blood moon does that,” Wild corrected, seeming more tired than anything else, and rightly so, if any work defeating monsters was periodically made moot. The Veteran thought about even this small island and how exhausted he’d been at the thought of doing it over again- he can’t imagine everywhere else as well.  

 

Legend shook his head, sympathy softening the harsh edges of his face. “It happens that often, huh?” Wild wasn’t acting like this was unusual, even if he did seem understandably stressed by the revival of all monsters.

 

Wild huffed a laugh, though it was less carefree than plain tired. “Yeah, it resurrects them, though they had stopped happening after Ganon’s death.” Which made the fact that this one had happened all the more concerning, then. Wild wasn’t unbothered , for all his careless tone,  he was just… pushed so far that he’d looped right back around to calm.

 

Legend thought that was worse, almost. Sadder. 

 

 Wild rallied, though, shaking off the melancholic defeat. “You managed to kill some of the monsters without any of your weapons?” He said, impressed, before brightening even further.  “Did you get any of the orbs?”

 

Legend felt his lips twist into a wry smile. “Of course I killed some of them, I’ve been here over a day. Yes, I got one of those glowing balls, and it’s already in one of the pedestals too, if those are the stone platforms glowing the same orange color- the one over there,” he said, gesturing to the only one he’d successfully got into place at the low, low cost of his mental well-being and possibly one of his soulmates.

 

Wild’s eyes widened as he craned his head futilely as if to see it himself. “It turned blue and everything? How the hell did you even get it up there? I had to use my slate to manage it!”

 

Knew it, Legend thought, feeling vindicated. There was a tool for the otherwise nigh impossible tasks, and it sounded like Wild had it, which explained why it wasn’t here for him. “I put it on the raft and floated it over, then threw it up to the stone slab. Desperation breeds ingenuity, and all that,” Legend said a bit smugly, bumping Wild a bit with his shoulder, pretending not to notice how the other leaned gratefully into him in return even as hope glowed warmly in his belly. “And what the hell is a slate? You mentioned it earlier too.” 

 

Wild reached for something that wasn’t there, before looking down the beach. “It’s over there, probably. I had it when I arrived.”

 

Ah, that glowing thing. Yes, slate would work well enough to describe what Wild had dropped on his arrival. Legend grabbed it up from the pile he’d stowed it in, handing it over while watching the Champion’s reaction curiously. Wild took the stone warily, the relief on his features dampened by suspicion that seemed wholly centered on the object, not on Legend. His poking around lit up the surface, revealing empty inventory slots, a map- several features, it seemed, all on this one device. Legend wanted one, if only for that much inventory, right at his fingertips instead of stowed in a bag. 

 

Then again, if it pulled tricks like this when it glitched, maybe not. His bag might swallow his gear, but it never stole it away entirely, even if it does take Legend weeks to find certain rings in all the clutter sometimes.  

 

Wild saw him looking and obligingly tilted it towards him, indulging his curiosity. “It’s sheikah tech that lets me transport to the shrines and use some runes for special abilities, along with some other stuff. It also holds all my inventory, which is how I got locked out of everything as part of the shrine quest. I don’t know how it did the same to you, though. Do you have a slate too?” He asked dubiously, eyes skimming over Legend’s bared body as if he’d pull one from nowhere. 

 

Legend shifted, propping a knee up and resting an elbow on it. “None of us have anything like that, but we do have enchanted bags that use sheikah magic. If they came from the same source, I’d guess that’s how it managed to take mine as well. Though, the why of it matters less than the fact that it happened at all.” He sighed, running a hand over his face and through his hair. 

 

“Okay, so we need to basically kill the rest of the monsters on this island. I saw a bunch of little guys and some taller ones, but what the fuck was that giant sleeping monster at the center of the island?” 

 

Wild proceeded to give him the layout of the island and its population of monsters. It aligned with what he’d seen and fought himself, but the hinox sounded like it may present a problem, between their lack of good weapons, armor, and the high likelihood it was infected, now. The good news was they didn’t technically need to kill it; the bad news was they would probably end up doing so anyways to get the orb from its neck, should stealth fail them as Wild seemed sure it may. 

 

On the bright side, apparently the Champion was better with a bow than Legend was, so that was one frustration he could gladly hand off to the infirmed hero. All the better, too- long range meant that Wild’s compromised mobility was less of a hindrance, and he’d be farther from danger, too, slowed and weakened as he currently was. In his current condition there was no way Legend would be able to justify letting him fight anywhere near close combat, not even measly bokoblins. 

 

Not the hinox, either, not if Wild wouldn’t be able to get out of the way of one of the trees the monster apparently throws around. 

 

He’d very carefully not mentioned that yet, instead suggesting sleep as a means to recuperate in the hopes that it would be a non-issue if Wild improved enough. Except then Wild had counter-offered elixirs instead, so long as Legend could round up some more ingredients.  

 

He was starting to see why Wild may be in such poor shape, if he continually opted for the shortcut.  

 

But even so, the temptation of learning how to make elixirs, potions essentially- “You can make elixirs? Healing elixirs?” He said incredulously, eyes sparking. 

 

Wild twitched under the scrutiny, but powered through. “I mean, it’s pretty much the same as cooking, just with different ingredients - the right kind of bug or lizard and at least one monster part. I can’t do anything unless I’ve something with the necessary properties to work with, something hearty or tough or mighty. Luckily, there’s something to be found on the island for any of them, if you know what you’re getting. There should be some attack-boosting bananas in the woods, though food isn’t as fast or as good as an elixir, usually.” 

 

Where to begin? A whole array of options just opened up, and Legend was delighted . “You don’t have any bottles, but we can always pour them into a hollowed out fruit for now; it’s not like they need to stay long or anything. I’d prefer an attack boost- do you know what we need for that, or for any healing potions?”

 

Legend headed out with fresh descriptions of which critters to hunt for, leaving Wild secure at the camp with some weapons. The Champion had sworn that the bugs and creatures could all be found on this side of the island away from the hinox and resurrected monster camps, so they’d both agreed it was worth the risk for him to head out on his own while Wild got what rest he could- with a distinct warning not to go to sleep, now of all times. 

 

Wild had seemed to take him plenty seriously, though to see how delightfully surprised he was at Legend’s concern over his prolonged well-being hurt somewhere deep inside, that the other hero had so little expectation that he’d give any care at all. 

 

Not the time, not yet. 

 

For now, he followed along the beach, moving slower and quieter so as not to startle them off the tree trunks where they hid, apparently. Of course, now that he was watching for them specifically it seemed there was a dirge of the pests, where when he’d been scoping for food they’d been scurrying away and flying off left and right. He managed to snag a crab from the sand as it tried to scuttle to freedom, cutting into the woods as he spotted a blue lizard resting upon a small stone, snatching it up and killing it before stowing it away in the makeshift woven palm-leaf bag at his hip. He also managed to snatch up a few fireflies before they darted off, leaping for one flying nearly out of reach-

 

An arrow flew past where he’d just launched himself from, only narrowly missing the bare skin of his back. Bug forgotten, he landed in a crouch, immediately lunging to the side to avoid another arrow- this one was on fire, easier to see both as it was aimed and as it flew. Two archers then, standing firm and aiming again as a third charged him with a vicious, tooth laden club held aloft. He darted in with the claymore in full swing, slower than his usual one handed sword as he knocked the bokoblin’s weapon to the side, forced to dance away before he could follow up to avoid the next round of arrows, a fire lighting up where the one landed amongst the undergrowth and caught. 

 

The blue bokoblin charged him again with a scream, vastly over lunging. Legend, heart racing with fear for Wild and whatever stupid, heroic thing he might do upon hearing the sound, took the opening. It was a feint, though a sacrificial one, and even as Legend slashed the sword upwards and gutted the beast it sent a backhanded swing ripping a span of skin from his thigh as he moved in to plunge the blade into its chest and twist. He noted the black blood distantly, ducking low to avoid an arrow whistling past his head and wasting no time liberating its head from its body to finish it for good.

 

He needed to get back to camp, couldn’t tell if it was his fear and worry or Wild’s that made him long for nothing more than a dead sprint to the other. He couldn’t do that, though, couldn’t risk leading the archers to Wild.  

 

Legend took a second too long lost in thought- the fire arrow was on him before he could move, only a twist letting it scorch along his belly instead of planting itself in his side, biting a long burn across his skin as he launched himself into a zig zagging advance on the two ‘blins. The fire-armed archer moved away, but the other had another arrow nearly lined up and stood its ground. Legend forced himself to grind to a stop to give himself some reaction time, bringing the wide blade of the claymore up before him and watching closely as the bokoblin loosed its shot, cursing the shifting shadows of the trees overhead as he waited for the arrow to fly. 

 

A dart of light as it came at him, and an instinctive flick of the wrist had it ricocheting off the blade. Then he was loping forward one step-two and relieving the monster of its arm, making quick, bloody work of it while it snarled wetly at him. He left it as it died in favor of blazing after the other bokoblin as it turned towards the campsite- towards Wild.

 

Distantly, he clocked the sound of another octorok, dodging around a tree as the projectile blew past, leaping onto and launching off of a boulder to bring his sword down upon the archer who’d opted to circle around the obstacle. Between the monster’s running and Legend’s own slipping footwork his strike missed the spine, but considering the length of the blade in its substantial entirety impaled the creature’s torso enough damage was wrought regardless to leave it helpless, black-blooded or not. Another quick beheading ensured its death, and as he pulled the blade free and turned to the beach a short, sharp scream sounded out, distinctly hylian and pained. 

 

Wild. 

 

Legend was sprinting in the next moment, clearing the hillock and catching a glimpse of the fire, of a set of monsters and Wild, vulnerable on his back near the flames as a bokoblin began to advance. His eyes were pinned on the scene, taking in the monsters’ positions as he surged forward, so intent on his companion that he only barely managed to draw up his heels in a last minute hop before a bony arm could grab them as another stal beast drew itself out in his path with a warping cry, closely followed by another. They were hulking creatures, with long-ranged arms and dangerous bearings and Legend did not have time to deal with them . 

 

He caught a jab from the spear with a looping twirl of his sword, drawing it sharply to the side and bisecting the creature at the hips as the leverage forced the spear from its claws. Legend freed a hand to grab the wooden weapon and deftly stabbed it into the skull’s eye socket- it didn’t break, but he flung it far back into the forest with a flick of his wrist, The claymore was too large to wield properly with one hand, but he still managed to raise it to take the blow from the second stal creature, sending a plane of magic along the blade to deaden the momentum of the hit- the energy gathered there as it absorbed the blow burst out and shattered his sword in return, but it stopped the hit all the same. As the creature took a step back at the rebound of the blow he brought his stolen spear to bear and jabbed at the head, stepping in close as he ran it up under the mandible and tore the skull free from the body, letting its bones collapse over him as he let the spear and skull follow their arc and shatter against the stone. 

 

Legend didn’t wait to watch it fall apart- didn’t care that all he had was a puny, ill-made spear on hand. All he cared about was Wild, whose mind was growing distant, whose fear and panic were bleeding away into dark nothingness.

 

Wild, whose unmoving body was being lifted by the throat as a victorious bokoblin shook the ragdoll hylian carelessly. 

 

The spear was raised and flying free even as Legend followed after it. The makeshift javelin caught the bokoblin in the thigh, forcing its leg to crumble beneath it as it dropped Wild and turned to face the advancing Veteran. Legend hit the sand at full speed and leapt through the fire just as the monster pulled the spear free from its body. He took full advantage of its short stature and knelt position, driving a knee into its sternum on a forward stride with all his momentum behind the blow, knocking it backward and away from Wild and leaving him straddling it on its back. 

 

The bokoblin made an attempt to bring the spear up and Legend deftly wrenched it from its hand with a bloodthirsty snarl, one foot lashing out to pin its other wrist to the sand before it could claw him. It was black blooded and stronger, already near bucking him off, but Legend didn’t need to stay on top for long. 

 

It was a matter of a second, pinning the length of the spear across its throat and drawing it sideways until the blade ran over skin. Inky blood gushed out, and he rolled free before it could throw him, planting the spear in its eye and wrenching it viciously before diving across the sand to Wild, crumpled where he’d been dropped. 

 

He turned him to his back, straightening his head and choking on panic as he saw the swollen, already bruised length of his neck. Legend fumbled for his wrist, tracking the weak, racing pulse there before the stillness of his hand over Wild’s chest sank in, as did the silence from the other. His lips were gray in the dim light of the fire, and Legend jolted into action. 

 

He wasn’t breathing, how long hadn’t he been breathing -

 

Legend’s mouth was on Wild’s then, forcing a breath into his lungs in a parody of a kiss, pulling away and repeating the action again, and again, begging him to breathe even as he wondered how long Wild could go like this. 

 

Another breath, and Wild finally jerked under him, slack lips stretching open as he gasped on his own at last. It was a terrible sound, wheezing and desperate and far too thin. 

 

It was the most beautiful thing Legend had heard. He heard himself give a hysterical laugh, hands hovering over Wild’s face and over the blackened expanse of his throat as another strained gasp followed the first. His eyelashes fluttered, brilliant blue making its appearance, dimmed and rolling. 

 

Another faltering breath. 

 

His lips were still blue.  

 

Legend immediately gave up on being gentle and probed at Wild’s throat, unable to feel anything past the puffed, swelling skin already pooling with blood. Oh- oh fuck, his airway.

 

Another breath, wheezing as if drawn through a straw. 

 

Legend couldn’t fix this, not without a potion, and Wild would choke on the truffles before they could do anything to help-

 

He didn’t have one, but right there were all the ingredients for an elixir. Our equivalent , Wild had said. It’s basically the same as cooking.  

 

Legend prayed it really was- he dumped the lizard in, blue as Wild had claimed were best for healing brews. And it was like cooking, yes, but not the same , fuck fuck fuck -

 

Another breath, broken by a choking sound as Wild’s heels dug into the sand. 

 

The lizard accepted his magic more hungrily than the food had, and even as Legend felt the first wave of dizziness he kept it flowing, let the icy wash of water flow from him into the pot, far faster than with cooking, only to feel the building magic slip suddenly, falling away as if a plug had been pulled. He desperately twisted his magic into a knot around the burgeoning elixir’s power, trying to stop the failure, feeling it snag and slow and pouring more power into it to foster the burgeoning bud of healing magic. 

 

A series of broken sounds, Wild’s chest shuddering as he fought desperately for what little air he could manage through his ruined throat. The mindless panic waned, disintegrating across their connection even as Legend tried desperately to bolster the other’s spirit.

 

Legend was out of time. 

 

He grabbed a palm-husk bowl and scooped up some of the elixir, red and shining oddly and please, please let it be enough-

 

The Veteran was painfully careful as he strode to Wild, gone mostly still save for a weak, rhythmic jerking of his body as he suffocated gradually. He choked as Legend poured the elixir in, and a stab of panic so violent it hurt cut across his chest- his throat’s closed, it's too late now, he can’t swallow, can’t heal, won’t live-

 

But he couldn’t stop trying, pinching Wild’s nose and covering his mouth, sobbing as Wild struggled beneath him, horribly afraid he was only killing him faster but he didn’t know what to do -

 

Wild coughed, and Legend pulled his hand away, afraid of drowning him, before realizing exactly what the sound meant and pouring more elixir in. Pain and panic throbbed over their connection like an open wound, the other too unaware to register Legend’s endless apologies or attempts at comfort or explanation as he clamped his hand over Wild’s mouth again. 

 

And again, and again, each time the hero pinned helplessly under him writhing at the perceived torture, near drowning and choking still as his soulmate seemed to try to kill him even as he lay dying. 

Even after all of it, as Wild finally lay breathing once more he drank willingly, pressing into Legend’s hold as the Veteran murmured soft consolations to him, wracked with guilt and weak with relief, shaking terribly even though Wild was alive. 

 

Finally, those blue eyes opened again, lips finally flushing pink once more as his breaths came easier- not entirely smooth, still too thin and with a strained edge he didn’t like, but he wasn’t gasping or wheezing or dying anymore. 

 

It was a win. 

 

Wild smiled at him, and Legend had no idea what his face did in return, shock still jittering over him as how close a call it had been hit full force. He immediately lifted the rest of the elixir to the other, something like panic rising as Wild turned it away. 

 

 “Non-negotiable, Wild. You’re drinking this whole potion until I’m sure you’re not going to suffocate again,” he said, shaking at the thought that it could happen again if the damage wasn’t healed and worsened once more. 

 

Wild blinked hazily at him before coughing wetly, the sound only proving that Legend had indeed almost succeeded in drowning him earlier instead of saving his life. 

 

Gods, the thought made him light-headed. 

 

Wait, no, that was his dumping almost all his magic into the nearly failed elixir. 

 

There was no time for that though, not when Wild’s head lolled in exhaustion after he’d cleared his lungs, eyes fluttering. “No, Wild, stay awake,” he insisted quickly, tone imploring and desperate. “I need you to keep drinking this potion, okay?” 

 

An uncomprehending stare that looked right through him, Wild blinking slowly before his eyes rolled back. 

 

“Don’t you dare!” Legend shouted, fear spiking. “Stay awake, Wild! No!” The cry was torn from his chest, but Wild was already fading out, bruises stark on pale skin as he laid in Legend’s arms, unresponsive as his eyes flickered under their lids. Soft slaps did nothing, and Legend refused to jostle him and risk injuring his throat- the stretch of skin along his neck was still viciously blackened, the only visible improvement the decrease in puffiness, though it was still present.

 

“Wild please, please don’t do this, you need to drink the potion, please!” Legend begged, voice wrecked, but the Champion was gone. He looked at the red fluid, all but useless now unless he wanted to risk pneumonia giving it to Wild while unconscious. Legend tore a strip from his already indecent shorts and soaked it in the cold seawater, draping it over Wild’s throat in an attempt to slow any further swelling, but after that?

 

His breathing was steady enough for now, but that could change any minute. The Veteran laid him out carefully, head tilted back and straightened, and periodically swapped out the soaked scrap of cloth. 

 

He did not break down, or cry, or scream. He was silent as he watched, as the night slowly gave way to morning, watching every shallow breath as if it would be the last before he choked once more. 

 

Legend breathed and waited and trembled as if cold, all the while numbly wondering which nightmare would haunt his dreams when next he found himself dreaming of the beach.

 

Notes:

Octorok: *exists*
Legend: The fucking audacity

Legend, creaming a bokoblin: I’m going to kill you and your entire family and every incarnation of your cursed spirit, mark my words
Legend, @ Wild: Shhh no honey it’s alright come sit by the fire, there’s a good lad

Legend, hours later: Oh my god he’s not a dream this is great news
Wild: He hates me and that’s okay I’m okay this is all okay-
Legend: I’m gonna keep our bff status to myself for now, it seems like he’s having a rough time

Oh the irony of Wild arriving to find a jaded Legend and getting real upset thinking Legend is refusing him specifically when truly Legend is refusing reality and trying hard to cling to Wild regardless of the fact. Wild thinks he's being tossed aside as not enough somehow, but he's actually the only part of this that Legend can't bear to let go of.

And then later Wild is very much just trying to be as helpful as he can be in an attempt to win Legend over, and Ledge is just feeling bad and trying to make amends that Wild keeps seeing solely as Legend being a good hero and a good person taking care of a pathetic useless hylian deadweight. And then there’s Legend, sure that Wild has no faith in him whatsoever and knowing he deserves it and has to earn his right to their soul bond again oh my GOD you two

They’re so at odds despite being on the same page, it’s delicious.

The elixirs are much more magically dense than the meals are, hence why Legend’s feeling the burn this time. The technique is also a little different and he absolutely rushed it and also almost drowned it out, but he didn’t exactly have time to finagle it properly, so the healing properties are diminished but present.

As a side note, Wild’s issue was more a crushed trachea then actual swelling, but neither he nor Legend realized it. Those black-blooded monsters have a mean grip.

Legend does not know how to give CPR, oh my god you don’t KISS H I M

Chapter 12: Sometimes a Disaster is Just Two Idiots and an Island Full of Monsters

Summary:

Sometimes it feels like Legend’s the only one really committed to getting Wild off this island alive

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Blood/Violence, Descriptions of Weight Loss, Vomiting, Flashbacks, Panic Attacks
Actual Time: ~5 AM
Chapter Spans: 8 hours or so
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 9

 

He didn’t just sit there the whole night, of course. He cleaned them both of blood, washing out the slashes upon the other’s thigh. The painful procedure garnered no reaction from the deeply unconscious hero- something he’d been glad for at the time, but as the night continued on without any sign of the Champion coming any closer to consciousness, Legend grew increasingly anxious at the strain of  blood loss on top of everything else on top of Wild’s already overwrought body.  

 

Hylia’s heroes were tough, but even they had their limits, and Wild had to be nearing his. 

 

Legend tried several times to rouse Wild to drink more of the potion, with no success. The first time the injured hylian’s breath hitched and caught in a weak cough, he’d startled forward with the mango bowl in hand, thinking he was waking. 

 

Except, his features were still slack, save for the tendons straining as he dragged in a laborious breath, and Legend-

 

Well, Legend nearly had nearly had a panic attack as he tried to wake Wild to take the potion half convinced that the Champion was going to die before ever waking up, laying there gasping and wheezing with increasing difficulty. None of the subsequent, increasingly desperate tries had been any more successful in eliciting any reaction from the unconscious hylian. Wild’s condition was so tenuously stable that Legend was losing his mind the longer his delicate status went untreated, as if every minute that dragged by was a countdown to the Champion’s body finally giving up altogether. 

 

Worst of all, as he got the chance to take full stock of the other’s condition, it became increasingly clear that Wild had been fighting off the bokoblins a lot longer than Legend had realized. There were the remains of another bokoblin near the fire that Wild must have managed to kill before the second monster managed to capture him, and smattering burns across his pale skin that supported the scuffed sand by the fire as another struggle he’d only barely managed to survive. 

 

And he hadn’t bothered to call out, not until that panicked scream. Even that hadn’t been a cry for help, but only a mindless response to a bokoblin killing him, all while Legend was so close to camp - 

 

Had he truly shattered Wild’s trust in him so badly that the other either thought it better to fight alone and injured, rather than… what? Did the Champion believe he wouldn’t care, wouldn’t bother, that he’d brush the other off as a dream and let him die?

 

Legend wouldn’t. He couldn't have, not even in the fullest depth of belief that Wild wasn’t real. That his soul-brother believed him capable of such atrocity galled him, the concept viscerally horrifying, when he was already so guilt ridden at having tried and nearly failed. 

 

To have stood by, or ignored him- he couldn’t ever fathom it, not with anyone but especially not with Wild . Wild, who had little energy to spare but still did his best to rile Legend and far too much heart for his own safety, whose spirit felt like hard-earned-rest and rediscovering-the simple-joy-of-a-forgotten-hobby . 

 

He had to do better- he’d already failed Wild at nearly every turn, hurting him in every meaning of the word. Legend wasn’t the best companion even with all the cheats the soulbonds provided, but he’d managed to win over the others despite his prickly, sharp-tongued words and tendency to keep others at a distance.  

 

If the others could all come to love him despite himself, surely, with some effort, Wild could too- he just had to wake up and heal , and Legend would do better by him. 

 

The growing doubt as Wild remained unresponsive only drove Legend’s panic-riddled regret higher, though, that all he’d ever have is the harsh, crushing words spoken to a hopeful soulmate. The younger hero didn’t look good at all, bruises stark and brutal across skin glowing far too pale in the weak light of the breaking dawn. His breathing was steady for the most part, though shallow and with an edge of a wheeze having gradually grown over the hours to haunt ever inhale. Wild hadn’t shifted once, giving no sign of moving out of the stony unconsciousness that had claimed him after Legend got barely enough of his shitty potion into him to save his life. 

 

That shitty potion was all he had, though, at least until his magic recovered enough that he was willing to try again without having to worry about passing out. In the spirit of trying to ensure Wild didn’t still up and die, he pinched at the other’s skin over his collarbone, grinding his teeth as he fought down the urge to grab the Champion’s shoulders and shake them. Legend shoved at the other’s heavy, unmoving presence across the soulbond, only to nearly jump out of his skin when Wild’s consciousness actually shifted in reply, some of the dark fog clearing from his mind in response to the Veteran’s desperation and fear. 

 

Legend dug his knuckles into Wild’s collarbone, fluttering insistently around that slowly waking mind until finally, finally after hours of waiting and panicking Wild groaned and moved at last. It was a horrible sound, broken and pained, but the Veteran blinked back tears of vicious relief nonetheless, tapping incessantly at Wild’s cheek as he continued to slowly surface.

 

Legend nudged at the whirling haze of the other’s mind for fear he’d slip back into unconsciousness again, guilt lacing fiercely through his relief as the dim confusion gave way to realization-fear-overwhelming distress that arose as Wild woke enough to remember, doing his best to help soften the sharp edges of the panic and ground him in the present.

 

Hazy blue eyes opened and slowly focused on his face, blinking heavily as they meandered over his body, catching on his injuries -minor at worst, of what lingered-  and making a weak attempt at rising to help, thoughtless worry all across his half-asleep features. Legend was quick to stop him, catching his jaw gently to stop Wild from turning it and learning the hard way how bad the bruising and damage all along his throat was. 

 

He held the potion aloft in its rough-hewn bowl before Wild’s foggy gaze, eyes narrowing and lips firming as his voice dropped into unbending seriousness. “You’re drinking this.” 

 

What Wild said in reply was nothing more than a ragged rasp of a sound, but his eyes lighting up in gratitude was answer enough to have Legend doing his best not to force Wild to bend his neck as he tried to lift him enough to drink. By the time the rest of the concoction had been downed the Champion’s breathing was markedly deeper and easier, the dangerous darkness of the bruising edging slowly away from the violent deep purples that had spoken of terrible damage in the delicate tissue. 

 

The remaining blue-green pooling under the skin was still alarming, but Wild only gave a small wince as he let his head roll back, his mind across their connection already going muzzy and soft at the edges as the potion took its magical toll on his system. The noticeable reaction to the elixir was as near a sure-fire confirmation that Wild was suffering from magic depletion -whether it was solely potion-based or not- as Legend was going to get. 

 

Fuck . 

 

He couldn't leave Wild like this, though. The slashes upon his thigh were only barely closed, still swollen and raw, though no longer oozing blood. They had no stand-in for bandages, and every hour that passed was inviting infection in the open wounds. The Champion was completely defenseless, and not only because of the nasty leg injury. With his current injuries Legend would have to take the monsters out on his own; likely doable, especially with Wild’s added expertise, but something told him that the other hero wasn’t going to be content being left behind. Especially not while Legend went alone to face the monsters that had left the Champion so uneasy at the thought of them being brought back stronger .

 

 To be fair, Legend wouldn’t be happy either, if the tables were turned. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t rather risk going solo than take a chance that another potion was one too many for Wild’s magic system to tolerate. His gaze roamed over Wild, eyes distant and frowning mournfully as he sat there looking thoroughly exhausted and beaten, drained of hope and energy. 

 

No, he couldn’t leave the other like this. 

 

Wild’s breath caught, and Legend’s eyes snapped back to him, already lunging forward to do- something to help his breathing again, when he realized that the Champion was crying . His face crumpled into complete misery, the bond emanating dark disappointment and disgust. “Sorry,” he forced out on a hitched gasp, and Legend’s stomach jolted as he realized those feelings were all aimed at Wild’s own self. 

 

Legend’s hands came up to help before stopping awkwardly in midair, clenching in front of his chest as he came up short on what to do to help. Wild was curled in on himself, flinching away from even that small movement- clearly, he didn’t want to be touched by Legend. “Hey,” he tried to say soothingly, though he could hear all too clearly how awkward his own voice sounded. “It’s alright. Don’t cry.” 

 

He immediately flinched at the useless placation, but it was too late to take the words back now. Wild crumbled further,  and Legend finally crossed the gap, resting his hands on Wild’s shoulders as the Champion gasped out a half-legible apology.  “I’m sorry that I was wrong, and that I got hurt-” 

 

He sobbed, the sound covering Legend’s own hitched breath at the understatement of his near death, his grip on Wild tightening at the reminder of what almost happened. 

 

It’s okay . Wild was alive and warm under his hands. He was breathing still, if upset. Guilt-ridden, begging forgiveness for something that wasn’t his fault, even now crying as he apologized for-

 

Wait. Did he just say he was sorry that Legend had to use the elixir on him -

 

“Stop,” he begged, voice breaking before he could go on, because Hylia above . Legend couldn’t do this, couldn’t bear for Wild -bloodied, beaten, half-dead because of Legend’s stupid recklessness - to take upon himself the blame for this whole damn mess, not when Legend’s the only one who's been screwing everything up at no expense except Wild’s wellbeing. The Champion must be more dazed than he thought, if he believed he had anything to apologize for to Legend , of all people. 

 

“Don’t- don’t apologize. Gods, I can’t-” bear to hear you say it , he nearly cried, but Wild didn’t need his excuses, not now. The Champion was trying to contain his sobs, breath catching painfully on the cries he was futilely attempting to swallow down, shaking and held up only by Legend’s grip on his shoulders.

 

He didn’t need the older hero to wallow in his mistakes and beg forgiveness- he needed affirmation that Legend wasn’t angry, or upset, that the situation was fucked through no cause of his. 

 

Legend… could do that, for Wild.  

 

The Veteran gave the younger hero a little shake to get his attention, forcing down his own pain and guilt in favor of putting on a gentler front for the other.  “Look, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he affirmed, tone indisputable and sure. “Those monsters were infected; they behave differently, and you couldn’t have known that.” 

 

He closed his eyes for a second, pained, expression notably grimmer as he opened them again to meet Wild’s gaze. “I’m the one that should have realized they wouldn’t sit and wait knowing we were there on the island as well.” After all, Legend’s the one who had gone and killed them all the first time around, then futzed around after the moon’s revival instead of buckling down to the task at hand. 

 

Wild was the one who had paid for his hubris, unfortunately. The other moved to speak, eyes blazing in affront, but Legend slashed his hand over Wild’s defense of him before it could be spoken and lead to a true breakdown as his guilt won over. 

 

He couldn’t bear to hear Wild try to justify his wrongdoings against him, trusting fully in Legend even after he’d so clearly failed the younger hylian. Even now, Wild looked up at him with wide, watering blue eyes, his own misery only derailed by indignance over Legend’s blaming himself, when he had every cause to be furious with the hero who hadn’t managed to save the Champion from any of the suffering that had befallen him on the island so far. 

 

Who had even inflicted some emotional damage himself, in fact, for all that he regretted it.

 

Legend shook his head, pink hair tossing about. “No,” he iterated firmly. “You were sick, and alone, and ambushed in the night, Wild. You’ve got no reason to be sorry, not when I’m the one who left, who should have known better -” His voice dissolved into a snarl, furious at how useless he had been. 

 

How useless he still was. 

 

A tiny whimper snapped him from his scowl, wide purple eyes taking in how Wild was watching him, all hesitance and weary hope. Wanting to believe him, but somehow still unable to let go of whatever misguided belief had him thinking he deserved any of the blame for this whole mess, or for his own suffering. Legend looked away from the difficult sight, pulling away from the Champion and gathering himself once more for Wild’s sake. 

 

“I’m the one who almost got you killed, so please ,” he said heavily, shoulders bent in exhaustion. “Please don’t say you’re sorry, not when you almost died because I was so caught up in my gods-damned trauma that I left you alone when I knew the island was dangerous.”

 

Wild sucked in a quiet breath, face stricken as his eyes roved over the Veteran’s weary expression. “Legend,” he said softly, imploringly, but the older hero only continued to stare blankly forward, ears pinned to his head in silent distress. 

 

His gaze didn’t waver as he spoke, purple eyes unseeing and wide, voice low and tormented. “Do you know how lucky it was? That I even managed to make anything that helped at all ?” Those eyes flickered down to his hands, curled limp and trembling in his lap. “Even after I got the monster off you couldn’t breathe, and you were suffocating right in front of me and there was nothing I could do !” 

 

And he was sick with fury, with fear and helplessness and self-reproach, shaking with it and ashamed of how it was eating him up and baring his bones to Wild, who had bigger problems than a bitter hero who’d only left him high and dry. Wild, who spoke loudly enough to break through Legend’s clamoring thoughts to give a white lie about being fine even as he looked pale and teary and weak. 

 

As if to betray the dishonesty, the Champion swooned as he leant forward too quickly to  rush to comfort Legend, their cheeks brushing as Wild drooped before he managed to catch the other gently, that too thin body flinching as his jaw draped limply over Legend’s shoulder.  Despite how the motion must have hurt, how sick he must feel, Wild still drew the Veteran into a hug, turning his face into Legend’s skin with a stifled sob. 

 

Legend froze, but only for a second- then he was gently, oh so carefully moving to hug Wild back, painfully aware of the fragility of the other hylian. He sighed long and slow, resting a cheek atop Wild’s head as he basked in the glowing gladness and relief pulsing between their souls. This, at least, was easy and natural.  

 

No words, no pressure. Just the simple comfort of having a soulmate nearby and knowing they were happier for it, the acceptance and delight resonating blissfully between them. Finally, though, he felt Wild begin to fade out, too comfortable and safe to stay awake cuddled against Legend, and he regretfully pulled away- Wild’s breathing was sounding too labored for Legend’s liking, and they had to treat it before he could pass out again. 

 

He huffed a breath as he settled the bleary-eyed Champion back, staying close to support him. “You’re not fine,” he said with a weak attempt at a waspish tone, cutting off another declaration of such before it could be verbalized and piss him off, or worse - send him spiralling once more. 

 

Wild was not to be deterred, though, and nigh-on pouted at him. “‘M more fine, he argued, and though he did look brighter-eyed and farther from fainting dead away it was clear he was still much closer to ‘desperately ill’ than ‘full health’. At least the cuddling session seemed to have done him a fair amount of good; even if it had accomplished little more than alleviating some of Wild’s emotional turmoil, at least that was one less stressor on his already overburdened body. 

 

Legend’ll take it- he’s even willing to do it again, if it does Wild this much good. 

 

(It had undeniably helped him as well, more than simply hugging another hylian for a few minutes should have, considering neither of them spoke or even cried during it. Legend wasn’t above admitting he had needed this himself, even that small snatch of catharsis having edged him away from what he’d sworn was an imminent breakdown.)

 

Wild smiled at him, leaning drunkenly into Legend’s hand on his shoulder, which was doing the lion’s share of keeping the Champion upright judging by the weight it was bearing. “An elixir’ll perk me right up again,” he slurred cheerily, either oblivious or willfully ignorant of the dead stare Legend gave him in reply. 

 

For a moment he considered letting Wild fall over just to maybe help the other realize how very not fine he was, but instead folded to those hazed, hopeful eyes.  

 

He scowled, partially to try to recover his cool demeanor and partially to cover the skitter of reflexive panic as he recalled his previous failure with the elixirs. “Then I hope you’re up to brewing it, because I’m pretty sure the one I made only worked out of sheer luck and the goddess’s mercy , and even then it only barely worked” he spat, near bristling in agitation. 

 

His nostrils flared, teeth baring as his eyes snapped to Wild, sharpening furiously to cover his fear. “Don’t think I can’t tell you’re still having trouble breathing,” he said lowly, voice dangerously soft and even. “Were you going to say something about that, by the way?” His eyes narrowed, shadowed by his bangs as he tipped his jaw down, their purple color so intense they nearly glowed in the odd dawn light for a moment. Wild watched him back with wide eyes, genuinely surprised, as a hand drifted to lightly touch his sternum. 

 

The realization that he’d been honestly unaware of the severity of his own condition eased the part of Legend that was jumpy at the thought of Wild worsening and not saying anything- the reason for him withholding information didn’t matter , he told himself, whether it was the Spirit of Courage’s inborn idiocy or an understandable lack of trust, or even just not wanting to upset an already plainly volatile companion. 

 

Legend knew he hadn’t exactly been coming across as the pinnacle of mental stability: he had no one to blame but himself for the repercussions of that. Though, it was equally concerning that Wild hadn’t noticed the exact degree of how bad off he was- could it be he was truly that exhausted, or was it something worse?

 

Dammit, they needed better elixirs now, and that meant only one thing. 

 

He pointedly waited, blinking placidly at Wild until he snapped back to himself. A hand drifted to his throat as he wheezed in a breath, swallowing with a flinch. Legend reached forward, prodding gently at the bruising still marring the younger hylian’s throat and listening for any changes or worsening of Wild’s inhales as he carefully turned his head and tilted it forward, all the while doing his best to gauge if the swelling had worsened again at all. He seemed no better or worse than when he’d woken up, which was worrying but at least not reason to panic, yet. 

 

Wild let Legend move him as he willed, finally speaking up as the Veteran grudgingly pulled away, his attempt at a check-up largely inconclusive past ‘still could use a potion’. “If you take me to the cooking pot, I’ll show you how to make healing elixirs. That way if I-” He stopped as Legend froze, hesitating as he visibly amended his statement to something less immediately triggering, though he needn’t have bothered. No matter what Wild said, this was not happening again, not while he could do anything to stop it. 

 

Wild wisely took a different path, instead, covering the awkward shift with a weak, coughing chuckle. “I could use a good pick-me-up; I can’t do anything like this, and it’ll take both of us to get all those orbs in place.” He tilted his head slightly, giving a half-hearted, tired smile that looked to sap most of his energy. 

 

Legend frowned anxiously, once more waffling over whether a potion truly was the best option, before opting to trust that Wild knew better what he needed.  “Yeah, that seems best,”  he agreed slowly, trying to banish the lingering unease. At least… he’d learn how to properly make an elixir, now. He wouldn’t have to worry about being caught like he was last night, completely blind and desperate and lost , with just enough adjacent experience that he’d been able to shoulder the blame for not figuring the potions out. 

 

It had been too close a call, and Wild was giving him a way to ensure it was never the case again. He straightened his spine, meeting Wild’s gaze with gratitude in his eyes.  “I’d like that,” he said sincerely, and even if it wasn’t near enough to express how glad he was for what Wild was promising the Champion understood anyways, sending him a full-blown sunshiny smile and blossom of happiness across the bond. 

 

The emotion was completely disproportionate to his own careful, reserved words, and Legend couldn’t help but reel back a little, suddenly suspicious that maybe Wild was more aware of Legend’s side of the bond than he’d given him credit for. The Veteran hadn’t been shielding- he was usually careful about what he let free amongst the Chain, but hadn’t been bothering to shield here to avoid that mental strain in favor of focussing on other issues, and Wild had seemed just as bond-blind as Warriors or Twilight. But that meant this whole time the Champion had been privy to the total onslaught of Legend’s panic and distress and concern, every silly little shimmer of joy at Wild’s presence or happiness. 

 

He blushed at the thought of his innermost thoughts having been so exposed, scrambling to regain some semblance of composure. You! He accused silently across the bond with toothless indignation, only to be further humiliated when Wild showed no sign of hearing him,  only proving that the flurry of worry had been completely baseless in the first place.

 

An overreaction to absolutely nothing, that past minute. 

 

He blushed anew as he stifled a self-effacing laugh by burying his face in his hands, aware of the heat across his face and shoulders before sending Wild a wry, faux-accusing look. Legend got a handle on his embarrassment quickly, but not fast enough to avoid the amusement in Wild’s eyes, laughter lightening even more of the illness weighing so heavily over the younger hylian. 

 

Legend almost wished Wild could sense the bond more clearly, if only so the younger hero could feel how genuinely delighted the Veteran was at having provided even a moment of levity, even at the cost of his dignity. There wouldn’t be need for cumbersome words and explanations, his affection all too plainly laid out if Wild only knew how to properly see it. 

 

Light-hearted joy looked good on Wild- Legend would have to make sure Wild wore it more often. 

 

He flapped a hand, doing his best to affect brushing off the last of his humiliation. “Alright, alright, let’s get you over there, geez,” Legend grumbled good naturedly, sending a scowl that was only barely managing to cover up a laugh as he took in the dopey, unfettered grin across Wild’s face. “Stop smiling like that, you look like an idiot!”  

 

Wild only laughed brightly, the wheezing at the edge of every inhale keeping Legend’s swoop to pick him up carefully despite the over dramatism of his movements. Even taking great care, Wild’s next breath was pained, for all that he tried to hide it, and Legend was quick to murmur his apology. “Sorry, sorry, just a minute more, almost there.” 

 

The previous light heartedness of the moment was gone then at the reminder of Wild’s injuries, the Veteran wasted no more time moving him next to the pot. He was careful as he set the other hero down, but even so the gashes on Wild’s legs were bleeding again at the shifting and he was swaying into Legend’s support as the Veteran prodded unhappily at the inflamed looking wounds. 

 

The Champion looked down at his injuries with a wry twist to his lips, voice altogether too casual as he took in Legend’s displeasure and commented, “He was a bit clingy, that bokoblin,” as though the wounds might not still prove the straw that broke the camel's back so far as his miserable health went. As though he hadn’t fought off two bokoblins in silence, willfully, instead of letting Legend come save him when he needed it. 

 

“Do you know how close you came to dying?” He demanded fiercely, because honestly, he did wonder. 

 

Wild looked immediately regretful as the older hero called him out, though, and the Veteran did his best to try to tamp down on his irritation in return. The pink haired hylian pinched his nose, exhaling loudly.  “It’s not you joking about it- though thanks a lot , now I can’t give Twi and Time and Wars shit for freaking out when I do it, knowing what it’s like from this end of it,” Legend muttered, because if Wild was going to be sorry, he could at least be sorry for the right thing. 

 

“It’s that you got really close, Wild, and you’re taking the fact that you died so lightly, and- and you didn’t even yell for me,” he said, realizing all at once that in this, at least, he wasn’t culpable, though it brought no relief. It was a show of distrust towards Legend that Wild didn’t call out, an active decision against a natural response to knowingly and willfully not alert Legend to the trouble he was in.

 

No matter how Legend looked at it, that didn’t bode well for whatever bond he’d hoped to rekindle with his newest soul companion. 

 

He took a measured breath, keeping his voice carefully measured, even as tension thrummed painfully along his frame. “How long were you fighting them in your condition? You had to have known you couldn’t defeat them alone, sick as you were. You had to have known you were fighting for your life, and losing.” 

 

Wild flinched at the accusation, a complicated expression on his face that didn’t include guilt in its rainbowed array of emotions. He seemed to struggle for words for a moment before giving up, getting lost in his thoughts before Legend determinedly dragged him out of them, because he refused to be left to wonder why - whether it was a true death wish, hubris, or mistrust. 

 

“When those two monsters swarmed the camp, why didn’t you let me know? It’s an island, I wasn’t far,” Legend emphasized, slashing a hand towards the woods, well in view in the morning light. “Hylia’s tits, I was only a minute away! It wasn’t until I heard one of them screaming at camp that I realized they had attacked you as well!” He shouted, watching as Wild curled inwards under his words. 

 

Legend swallowed, voice quieter, now. “Wasn’t until I heard you scream that I knew I might not be fast enough to save you, all because you were willing to die alone there rather than let me help.” he said softly, not even trying to hide how it hurt him. Why did you wait?

 

There was a long, long pause as Wild collected his thoughts, the wait culminating in the extremely verbose: “I just didn’t think of it.” Purple eyes practically snapped with ferocity at the half-assed excuse.

 

Legend clenched his jaw, gritting out, “What kind of person doesn’t think to scream for help when they’re getting overrun by monsters and there’s another hero nearby?”

 

A dumbass , Legend knew, but Wild deserved more credit than that. 

 

The Champion sent him a painfully forced smile, though. “A hero!”  He said brightly, faked cheer cracking at the edges before he let the smile drop altogether into something more resigned. “We’re built more for saving than the other way around,” he said honestly.

 

It wasn’t the whole answer, certainly, and Wild must have seen the lingering hurt in his eyes at the thought that it was an issue held with him that had almost led to tragedy, for he was quick to continue, voice soft and sorrowful.  “It really isn’t your fault, you know. As a hero I should have been fine,” Wild said bitterly, and oh . 

 

It was that thrice damned hero complex, and responsibility that accompanied it, Legend realized suddenly. Wild thought it too easy a fight to ask for help with, was even ashamed that he couldn’t handle it, despite being weak and ill-

 

Well, it wasn’ a problem the Chain was inexperienced with, and all it meant was that Legend had to prove they’d have Wild’s back when he needed support; he just had to learn to accept it. 

 

And in the meantime, he wasn’t going to let Wild be the one deciding if he needed help, anymore. That was a responsibility he had to earn back, after this stunt. 

 

“Two bokoblins shouldn’t have been a problem at all,” Wild said, ignoring just how bad off he was to be fighting two infected monsters unarmed, “and if I’d died-'' 

 

 That was enough. Legend shook his head, butting in before Wild could say something stupid. “I’m the one who left you alone while you were sick and vulnerable and in no shape for combat of any kind, instead of patrolling to make sure no monsters were nearby first. I know as a hero you’re used to being responsible for your own mortality, but you shouldn't have had to fight them alone, and I won’t let you beat yourself up for failing. Just for being stupid enough to try it in the first place in your condition.”

 

He sighed. “It’s fine, really.  I’ll just keep a closer eye on you so you don’t decide that you should rightfully be able to take on the hinox, too. You can’t be blamed for not thinking clearly, I suppose, considering the state you arrived in. I don’t know what good you thought you’d do, running yourself into the ground to get here and collapsing right afterwards. What was your plan, just drink another elixir, keep going for a little while longer?” He said, remembering all too well how badly that had always turned out for him personally before pushing it aside and turning a heavily judgemental look on Wild. 

 

The Champion just stared at him with wide eyes, and Legend’s own eyes narrowed in response to the unsatisfactory silence. “That’s your plan now, after all; you’re going to make yourself an elixir and hope it fixes everything, nevermind that it could set off a repeat of when you were vomiting up half your stomach earlier, or make you even worse than that,” Legend said with a mocking edge to his voice, taking a turn into intensity as he continued. “I don’t know what you expect to go differently here; just because you threw up all of them, doesn’t mean your body isn’t still suffering the effects of the overdose.”

 

Wild bristled, insulted despite the fact that Legend wasn’t wrong at all. “You think I’m looking forward to anything like that again? I know the risk I’m taking, and it’s worth it. You can’t take out a hinox and the other band of monsters all on your own,” Wild said furiously, not even letting Legend interject before barrelling on. “And even if you could, the risk is too high- it makes much more sense to try to get me to fighting strength. If I’m useless to you now and I’d be useless to you if it doesn’t work, we’ve nothing to lose,” he said, voice faltering at the end as he drooped, his side of the soulbond wavering in and out of focus as he nearly fainted away again. 

 

Legend watched him with a heavy scowl, ready to catch him should he falter, but Wild managed to steady himself, and it was only when he was sure the other was aware enough to hear him that the Veteran spoke. “Do not talk about your well-being like it’s a matter of convenience. You’re stable now, barely, and I don’t want to risk changing that.” 

 

They glared at one another, and Legend would have easily won except that he was worried the full force of his true scowl would knock Wild right out in his current condition. As it was, he was forced to concede Wild did have a valid point. 

 

“That said, you’re fucked if I get myself killed trying to do this alone, and the longer we wait here the higher the chance that the monsters decide to try to attack us first, and the last thing we need is another fight on their terms. So we’ll try it your way, but!” He glared warningly at Wild when he brightened, “If you start to deteriorate again we’re stopping and making a new plan. Kapeesh?” 

 

Wild didn’t care at all about the finger pointed in his face, only grinning like a loon and bobbing his head excitedly, abruptly letting out a choked cry of pain and recoiling sharply as a hand flew to his neck. He went white at the sudden movement, head lolling for a second before bonelessly dropping. Legend caught him, having already been mid lunge the instant Wild’s eyes rolled back, easing him down onto his folded legs with a racing heart. 

 

His breathing was fine- it was just a faint from pain, or exhaustion, that’s all, he’d probably being coming around any sec-

 

A minute passed slowly as he cupped Wild’s cheek, thumbing the blue-veined skin near his temple as his heart crawled further up his throat, waiting. Finally, eyelashes fluttered, a sliver of electrifying blue slitting open, Wild slowly drawing an eye open to rove over Legend’s face looming over him worriedly, the other opening until both were unfocused and blinking sluggishly up at him.  

 

Legend released the breath he’d been holding, heart racing and near limp with relief as he scolded, “I literally just said if you get worse we’re not doing it, and then you go and faint? Seriously?” 

 

Bleary blue eyes tried to meet his and failed as they blinked asynchronously, Wild’s lips pursing. “Didn’t get worse. ‘Ve been feeling bad th’ole time,” he slurred grumpily, still trying to wake up completely and only slowly succeeding. 

 

Legend looked him over dubiously, unhappy at having to push the infirmed hylian, but left with no other option.  “Fine,” he allowed grudgingly. “Fine! But I don’t know how much good another one of my half-assed elixirs will do you, so you better buck up and get cooking, Wild. You promised me a lesson,” he heckled, trying to elicit a reaction from the dazed, half-conscious hero.  

 

Wild was silent, though, and it was only the Veteran’s gently insistent nudging that kept him from falling back to sleep. 

 

Sleep he desperately needed, clearly, but which was secondary to the more urgent need to get a proper elixir in the works first. Legend didn’t like how Wild’s condition seemed almost to be slipping backwards, and they were so close-

 

Clumsy hands barely twitched from Wild’s lap in an attempt to ward off Legend’s jostling, voice little more than an exhausted moan as the Champion gave in just to escape the prodding. “Fine, stop, ‘kay .”

 

What followed was an odd, odd mix of Legend’s renewed guilt every time Wild’s voice tapered off or his head lolled wearily and something between assuaged dread and a guilty thrill as the other hero taught him how an elixir was properly made. Wild opted to just gesture at what was needed, though apparently there was a range of ingredients that could be used interchangeably depending on their properties, of which a murmured list was given. He swallowed his curiosity down, though- now wasn’t the time to press for more information. 

 

Later though, there would be an extensive discussion on everything Wild did know about the process. 

 

That said, Legend could already tell that the Champion’s potion-making wasn’t going to be universally applicable outside of this world; like the animals and food, the monster parts they were using were far more magically-charged than anything he’d seen before. Even more so than the fauna and flora even, in fact, which probably accounted for the increased potency of elixirs over meals with equivalent properties. 

 

Something ‘hearty’ as the base, to imbue the concoction with healing magic, and then monster parts as they nurtured the elixir, acting as activators each time the potion’s swelling magic began to taper off. All they had on hand were some bokoblin and moblin parts, though Wild dreamily murmured that “Hinox or lynel parts would be better, and nothing beats a dragon scale.”

 

Always good to know it could have been worse, so far as island bosses go. 

 

The irony of having to first defeat powerful monsters to get accordingly powerful elixirs from their remains was not lost on Legend. At least if the hinox messed them up he’d be able to make a good, strong elixir from it afterwards, though. 

 

Legend very notably said nothing about the magic being added to the concoction- Wild still wasn’t referring to it as such, even as the Champion poured tangible energy into the elixir over the fire. Granted, his was different than what Legend was accustomed to, but no more than any other member of the Chain was. It was of a distinctly different ilk than cooking had been, less of a straight coaxing into growth than filtering and shaping what was there. 

 

Ah, ensuring the Malice in the monster parts was either sieved away or filtered to something less dangerous. Nature had a way of purifying the malicious magic if given enough time and not overwhelmed by too much of the darkness, but seeing the concept utilized to tap the powerful energy contained within monsters was fascinating , and Legend itched to commiserate with Four or Hyrule on it.  

 

Even just watching, he could tell that Wild and him would have a step up on the average hylian, if only because the inherent tinge of Goddess blessing upon them lent their magic more easily to purification naturally. As a native to this world, Wild seemed to be able to easily tell what portions of the magic could be separated and left to evaporate into the fire. He seemed to let it all sift around, occasionally pinching away dark centres of magic as they conglomerated in defense against the purer magic he was adding to the elixir, leeching off of the Malice’s hunger for growth to develop the elixir’s potency even as he slowly made the potion utterly inhospitable for its poison.

 

It was enchanting to watch, yet even as entranced as Legend was he could tell that Wild was fast reaching his limits, and no wonder- he’d already poured plenty of power into the elixir, and it wasn’t even finished yet. Legend could already see the myriad of ways he’d gone wrong in his own try, and was all the more irate at the realization that it had truly been a miracle from Hylia that his first attempt had been of any use at all. 

 

The Champion grew gradually less responsive and increasingly unsteady even as he leaned upon Legend’s shoulder, half-lidded eyes fixed on the bubbling liquid as his complexion grew increasingly more pale. Legend was no good at sensing stores, but he could tell by the other’s fraying control and increasingly clumsy manipulation of the elixir’s magic that Wild was running dangerously low. 

 

“Wild? I think you should stop- I can take over from here,” he offered in a low voice, nervously letting his own magic edge in to try to cut Wild’s off gently, hesitating when the Champion gave no sign of pulling back and very, very afraid of ruining the elixir by butting in anyways. Concerned, Legend gave him a hesitant shake, voice sharpening in worry when the other hero merely lolled limply at the movement. “Wild? Wild, stop, I don’t think you can afford this much- shit!”

 

The thin hero collapsed suddenly, his magic cutting off all at once, leaving Legend with an armful of limp hylian and scrambling to drench a potion in magic before it failed, even as he silently hoped that he had enough left himself to finish the job. A headache warned that he was low, but at the very least the dizziness from his first try had faded over the course of the night. 

 

Legend decided it was best not to worry about whether he’d risk finishing but passing out, or risk failing the potion in favor of not depleting all his stores until the issue became relevant. Instead, he let his magic twist into a vortex, starting at the edge and moving a concentrated band of golden light reminiscent of Zelda’s gradually inwards, letting it chase a growing front of dark magic to the center as he cinched it tighter. Finally, he had a writhing pool of Malic trapped at the center of the funnel, and he snapped the whole structure sideways as he neatly sliced it apart, letting the dark magic fall away. 

 

What was left felt satisfied in the same way the finished meals had, and he drew what magic wasn’t imbued in the elixir back even as Wild jostled him, eyes snapping back open to blink down at the glittering red potion sitting victoriously within the pot. He snapped his gaze over to Wild, ignoring the light-headedness that accompanied having spent too much magic in favor of accusingly crying, “You said there were no magic users here. What do you call that, then?!” 

 

Wild looked at the elixir with exhausted incomprehension before looking back at Legend with a helpless shrug, thoroughly pathetic as he let himself lean wholly into Legend’s side. “‘S just cooking,” he retorted, as if his version of cooking wasn’t also magic intensive. 

 

It was… incomprehensible. How does a world lose this kind of knowledge, even as it still thrived?

 

(He considered the Blood Moons, the near-deadly scars across Wild’s body, the similar ruin of Hyrule’s world and the same loss of non-essential knowledge, and knows the shape of the answer.)

 

Wild readily drank the elixir down, seemingly unconcerned at how Legend’s interference may have affected it, tension draining from his body as the bruises around his neck faded further to the last stains of yellow, his leg healing over to preliminary scarring far less tenuous than the previous scabs. Wild rolled his neck testingly with a relieved sigh, stretching before rising slowly, seeming to have total faith in the elixir’s capabilities. 

 

Legend followed after, just in case Wild was still unsteady, but the other hero was perfectly stable even as he balanced to move his previously injured leg around. For the first time since the two had met, Wild seemed alert and nowhere near the brink of fainting, even if he was still far too thin and finely trembling. That, at least, could be helped by rest and food, which was hopefully not too far off once they managed to get off this gods-forsaken chunk of land. 

 

He seemed very satisfied with the improvement, voice nearly smug as he sent Legend an impish smile. “Wow, I think you’re a natural, Ledge,” he said warmly, and the Veteran almost rolled his eyes before realizing that Wild wasn’t joking at all. 

 

It’s almost like he forgot about the other elixir. Knowing Wild’s carefree-bordering-on-careless nature on everything not relevant to someone else’s well being and his previous semi-delirious state, he very well might have. “I mean, my first try wasn’t exactly a rousing success. Especially seeing how it was supposed to work… mine barely fixed anything at all; you were still struggling to breath right when you passed out,” he remarked darkly, feeling his ears pin back in agitation.  

 

“You had said potion-making was basically cooking so I tried my best. It didn’t look right though, or work well,” Legend said dryly, gesturing at the dregs of elixir that bore little resemblance to the dark, blood-like liquid he’d managed to create last night. “Hell, it barely worked well enough to save you.”

 

Wild looked nearly affronted, mouth dropping open a little before he gave his head a little shake and sent Legend a burning look as he leaned in close. For the first time, the Veteran realized that the other was taller, even if not by much- it wasn’t a surprise, really, considering his own height, except that it had taken this long to realize. 

 

 “I don’t think you understand exactly how amazing it is that you managed to make any kind of elixir at all on your first try, especially when no one had shown you how to do it, not really! Some people can never make one at all,” -not surprising, considering how magically- dense they are, Wild “- and it took me forever to figure it out from all the tips I was given. Then you waltz up and make one going in completely blind that’s still more effective than most people’s best!” Wild cried, eyes wide and earnest as he tried to convince one of the proudest members of the Chain that he needed to acknowledge his good work. 

 

And Legend was prideful, but only because he had accomplished impressive things. That sad, scarcely functioning potion didn’t feel like much of an accomplishment, and certainly nothing worthy of boasting. 

 

And yet, here Wild was, doing his best to get Legend to preen over having saved his life by the barest thread and not inconsiderable luck.

 

The Champion grasped his shoulders, giving him a gentle shake, as he let his one head fall back dramatically, one hand woefully pressing against his forehead. “Even now, all you had to do was watch me and you finished it perfectly all on your own! Legend, that’s remarkable beyond words, how are you not seeing that, why are you this way?” 

 

Legend couldn’t help the surprised laughter that escaped even as he turned his head to hide the blush across his cheeks. It wasn’t often others complimented him- generally, he wasn’t shy about being proud when he’d done good work, so there was no need. Even Hyrule was more prone to impishly pointing out minute mistakes just to see Legend’s indignant squawking break through his smug looks. He held himself to high standards, and gloated appropriately when he felt he had earned it.

 

His near failure had felt like nothing more than a narrowly averted tragedy, but it had worked in the end, and though he felt Wild may be laying it on a bit thick, he couldn’t help the heat that rose in his cheeks at the other’s clear pride. Legend felt his expression soften further into heartfelt relief at the sight of Wild’s energy, couldn’t temper the warmth in his voice even if he wanted to. “You seem peppier, at least. I’m glad it worked.” 

 

And he really, truly was. Not only because of how hard it had been to see Wild so clearly diminished and weak, to see his frustration at his helplessness so clearly as he struggled just to stay awake, but also because of this. Because of how the other’s mind was moving like a quick-silver swarm of fish in a stream, whirling and wild and flowing all the same instead of the wind-scattered sand of before . 

 

So when Wild eagerly proposed to make more elixirs to help with the incoming battles, Legend agreed, even as he warily poked at his magic stores. 

 

“Your world is absolutely steeped in magic, you know that?” He commented off-handedly as he tried to get a better feel for the Malice still riddling the early-stage endurance elixir they were making. “None of ours has bugs or plants with magical properties like this, and the fact that most anyone can use them to make their own elixirs? I can only guess that practically everyone here is magical, albeit latently, which is probably why you’re all unaware of the nature of it.”

 

Something so everyday that it passed under the notice of everyone, so utterly average it wasn’t worth wondering about. “The small magic is so common that none of you realize what’s really going on- I mean, you described your cooking magic as a vibe , for fuck’s sake. I know passive magic is primarily instinctual and emotional, so it’s no wonder you thought it was just another feeling, if you’d lost all the terms and knowledge explaining it.”

 

Wild hummed noncommittal, features relaxed as he listened. Legend was speaking aloud for his benefit, but didn’t need any input to forge on. “If you didn’t know any of the Hyrulians had it, that means you must just have innate magic users here. That’s the most common kind,” he explained as he handily expunged some Malice from the elixir, watching it evaporate away in a puff of purple smoke before dropping in another bokoblin horn. 

 

“Generally they aren’t considered magic users at all, really.  It can be tapped a little bit to power low-strength items and jewelry, but the person can’t shape it themselves at all.  It’s not surprising that it's been lost if your archives were wiped out- active users nearly always require training unless they’ve got serious talent, and even passive users need to guide their magic into the conduit they’re using.”

 

“Oh?” Wild said softly, looking near boneless as he leaned back on the log, utterly content. 

 

Legend grinned at him sharply before focusing once more on the elixir, squinting his eyes against his building headache. “That just makes you all that much more impressive, really. A bunch of untrained magic users who nonetheless have figured out how to use it to great effect- it’s an interesting mirror to how magic must have been discovered and developed in the first place. Once we get to our worlds though, we can share some books and information with you, if you like. I’d be happy to help, and so would the others, in any way we can.”

 

Wild didn’t answer, and when Legend could afford a glance, he found the other had fallen asleep. He huffed, unsure exactly how offended he should be when it was honestly more impressive that Wild had stayed awake this long in wake of everything he’d been through, and how inherently energy consumptive potions always were. It’s fine- he’ll just make sure to repeat the offer when it became relevant again, and maybe let the others know ahead of time as well. 

 

The stamina elixir had just as marked an effect on Wild, even though he hadn’t drank it’s entirety- neatly removing the last of the weary slump from his shoulders and steadying his trembling hands, brightening his eyes. He gave a cheery hop even, merrily bouncing around as he relished in a body unburdened by injury or exhaustion. 

 

Legend didn’t trust it one bit. 

 

Potions were not a perfect panacea- they had bounds. They were slow to heal blood loss, useless against whole-body wounds or amputations, and required a conscious victim to drink them. Even after all that, there was also the toll they took on the body they were healing- not significant in and of itself, but multiplied by many doses or coupled with low magic to begin with, a dangerous complication indeed. Fairies gave of their own magic for the most part, but potions used the victim’s own stores for injuries exceeding what the brews held- for heroes, that was nearly every wound severe enough to warrant an elixir in the first place. 

 

He’d already had Wild clocked for potion overdose before this, and even now, seemingly improved as he was, Legend couldn’t help how closely he watched for any sign of it all going awry. He could guess why Wild wasn’t finishing it, for all that he didn’t seem overly nauseous- after all, he’d come up with the strategy including the other drinking a sneaky elixir too, for all his concerns that it would be too much for the other’s overtaxed system. 

 

He didn’t want to be right, didn’t want Wild’s newfound energy to be tainted by the way he staggered a little as he moved about, seeming to be struggling to balance properly. The other’s mind had also taken on a distinctly manic twist, currently riding the high of a body working properly once more as he spiralled merrily through a dizzying array of thoughts and ecstatic, heady emotions. 

 

Wild brushed the clumsiness off, not even bothering to mention the momentary fumble as he gushed once more over Legend merely creating an elixir equal to those the Champion apparently made regularly. “That worked like a charm, Legend, great job!” He cheered as he sashayed forward with a happy hum, his steps drastically more graceful than any of the barely-steady wobbling he’d shown before. 

 

Even if he was notably avoiding any spinning, this had already far exceeded any of Legend’s expectations based on any potion he’d seen before. That meant it was time to move , before the effects wore off or anything else could go wrong. 

 

“Okay, your elixirs are definitely more potent than our potions, holy shit,” he muttered, impressed for a moment before he followed the thought through to the end. He’d seen for himself that the elixirs were more magic consumptive, which likely meant Wild’s ten or so elixirs in the past few days were far more perilous a dose than the same amount of their potions would have been. At least that explained some of his condition, even if their plan wasn’t going to be doing Wild any favors, not until it culminated in them getting off the island, anyway. “Stop running around! Help me grab everything and we can start to head over to the hinox’s clearing, jeez.”

 

It was only a matter of minutes before their meager supplies were ‘packed up’, totalling a couple of truffles, some of the wretchedly odiferous durian stowed in a bottle -and subsequent dunking and scrubbing in the ocean so he didn’t immediately alert every monster downwind of his arrival stop laughing you gremlin or so help him-  and a mango bowl of sneaky elixir for Wild to drink at his leisure. 

 

Then it was Legend’s turn to experience his first proper elixir, one for strength, apparently, and boy.  

 

It was a doozy. 

 

Immediately, he understood why Wild must have been dizzy- the rush of synthetic energy bolstering his body and magic was heady, leaving him swaying and experimentally testing out his own fingers and arms even as he felt the power running through them, similar to and yet so startlingly different from the power bracelet’s effect. That was only triggered under certain circumstances, where this, he could feel coursing through his muscles- all of them. It wasn’t an increase in his baseline strength- meaning his own weapons wouldn’t be getting crushed in his grip unexpectedly- but instead raised the upper limits of it, which was far better. 

 

The plan was set,  their preparations in place. The only weapon on hand was a boko spear, but though roughly made and far from sturdy it still beat nothing, at least until they could snatch some better weapons from the monsters they’d beaten.

 

They were going to use the explosive barrels he’d tested out the day before to weaken the hinox before moving in to finish it. Wild was careful to warn Legend of the fire chus’ tendency to explode when killed -which he’d known- and of the similarly detonative nature of their resulting chu jelly when hit, as well, which was a delight to learn, even if they were much weaker than the pilfered bomb barrels. 

 

“There’s so many explosives in your Hyrule,” he’d said with a terrible, scheming menace. “This is fantastic .” Wild met his teeth-baring grin with a bright smile, agreeing happily that fire was, indeed, a wonderful solution to their problems.

 

 They’d moved easily into their positions, waiting in the last patch of trees for cover as Wild downed the stealth potion, immediately shuddering and doubling over as if to be sick. He wasn’t , but Legend couldn’t help but sound worried regardless as he took in the other’s white complexion and strained expression. “Doing alright there, Wild?”

 

Only to find that as he tried to gauge the Champion’s wellbeing, his focus kept slipping away from the spot Wild inhabited, eyes instead sliding to focus on the leaves and ground adjacent as Wild’s presence did its best to fade from his mind. This close to the other with all his worry focused on Wild, the magic wasn’t strong enough to succeed, but Legend imagined Wild only had to move a ways off and stay quiet for him to be practically unnoticeable so long as he didn’t draw attention.

 

 Similar in effect to his own stealth spells, and it was plenty fascinating to see the other side of it. 

 

Here and now though, it did pose its own problems. “Okay, wow , that is really impressive and useful, but I’m gonna need you to tell me if you’re alright right now.” He requested politely as the sneaky elixir kicked in completely, still trying to focus on Wild well enough to tell if he was actually struggling while very adamantly not using his own already-far-too-low magic to supplement the effort. 

 

Wild waved a hand, though, quick to reassure him even if he did sound queasy. “Ugh, a little nauseous but not too bad.” He remained curled up for a little longer before finally standing, seeming at least recovered enough not to be sick. 

 

“Alri-” 

 

Legend only barely caught Wild’s starting to speak before the faint twang of a bowstring snagged in his hearing, an arrow flashing into his periphery as he hopped out of the line of fire, letting it fly harmlessly past where his head had just been. Immediately, Wild shut up and ducked down, quietly sinking from the Veteran’s awareness and that of any archers too. 

 

Content that the Champion was safe and would handle the long-range opponents, Legend turned to the two bokos advancing on him, baring his teeth as he gripped the spear and held it before him, feeling the elixir’s magic roar to life along his arms and legs like a bolt of adrenaline. 

 

Already, he could tell that these monsters were infected- their eyes glowed with rabid hatred, jaws curled into dripping snarls as the not-inconsiderate fury lacing every line of their bodies focused wholly on Legend, naked and poorly armed. They carried a sword and a spear respectively, moving in slinking, predatory prowls as they advanced on him.

 

He wasn’t too worried. 

 

Legend didn’t bother to dignify the spear jab with his weapon’s touch, only weaving to the side and placing the second monster in the way of the following side-swipe as it lunged for him, heedless of how it had just sabotaged its partner's attack in favor of releasing a flurry of slashes. For all their increased intelligence, infected monsters were no better at fighting as a unit, each of them too bloodthirsty to bother caring if they interfered with another creature’s attack. It was a boon the whole Chain was aware of - and consistently reminded of, courtesy of Warriors- even if not all of the heroes were skilled at taking advantage of the fact. 

 

The Veteran had never hesitated to trick a monster into friendly fire though, and he wasn’t about to start now. As he parried the sword strikes -the boko’s infected strength matched by his own enhanced power- the first boko’s spear thwacked soundly across his opponent’s ribs, both of the beasts squealing furiously at one another as Legend danced forward and was warded off by a swipe of vicious claws a hair too close to his face. 

 

A whirling kick to its knee would have brought it falling upon his weapon regardless, had that blasted spear not made another reappearance, slicing forward and sending Legend sliding back and looping around the pair as both recovered and faced him. This time he let the sword land upon his weapon’s shaft and directed it away with a flick of his wrist that sent the boko stumbling. The other monster had stabbed forward with the spear, and Legend swayed aside, bending his knees and wrapping a hand along the shaft, letting the magic heat under his skin as he hauled the hissing bokoblin forward into his waiting spearhead.

 

Hot, blackened blood poured forth, and the monster willingly continued towards him, slavering and furious as it let the wedged blade plunge deeper into its belly just so it could get close enough to land a blow on the hero. Cursing, Legend pulled his weapon out as the monster all but tackled him, all too aware of the other monster swinging for his distracted back. 

 

He let himself fall backwards, dropping his spear in favor of securing both th boko’s wrists and  curling his legs to plant feet at its hips. With little finesse he twisted and kicked it off of him as he hit the ground, grip on its wrists vicious as he ensured it didn’t catch itself or claw him as it went hurtling away.

 

Legend was quick to tuck his arms in and roll the opposite way, clearing the second bokos sword as it stabbed it into the earth he’d just vacated. Rolling into a crouch, he wasted no time launching back forward and wrenching the freshly drawn sword from the monster’s one handed grip, skidding past it in his momentum before whirling and lodging the blade halfway through its trunk until he felt it catch on the spine. 

 

He distantly heard Wild shout something along the lines of “What the fuck?”, immediately honing in on the panic swarming the other’s mind and noting that the younger hero was no longer nearby before cursing as he remembered the stealth magic over Wild at the moment. 

 

Time to finish this up. 

 

The bokoblin’s legs had gone limp underneath it, and Legend hauled the rusted sword from the monster’s chest. He stabbed its heart through past clawing arms just in time for the thrown, gutted boko to return and make its final attempt on his life. 

 

It wasn’t a very good try- the spear was thrown and knocked aside by his sword to spiral off against a nearby tree, Legend darting forward as the bokoblin lunged to slash at him. The offending arm went flying, and in the next moment a gush of dark blood spilled from the monster’s throat, coating its whole front black. 

 

The bokoblin staggered, but didn’t fall, not even as Legend spared a second to cripple it with a darting slice across its heels. Satisfied that it was dying and not going anywhere even if it still had spunk enough left to lash furiously at him, Legend whirled towards the connection that tugged him in Wild’s direction. 

 

The Champion hadn’t made it too far, having been herded by a bokoblin past the cover of the trees and onto the beach. He was apparently unarmed now as he skittered away from the drunken flailing of the monster -curse the brittle, breaking weapon on this island gods damn - but staying well enough in front of it even as it staggered to a faltering stop, whatever wound was leaving a continuous trail of inky blood finally taking its toll. 

 

Surprisingly enough, that wasn’t the worrying part of the picture. 

 

No, that honor belonged to the giant fucking hinox that had been roused to waking by another fucking boko, hopping victoriously as the behemoth caught sight of him and Wild and promptly began striding over at an alarming clip. 

 

Not good. 

 

The Vet shouted for Wild’s attention, gesturing wildly as he sprinted to the other hero at the incoming problem, the Champion’s eyes going wide and mouth dropping open in a classic ‘oh shit’ as Legend leapt down onto the beach and raced towards where Wild was waiting by the start of the ramp up the westernmost hill. He could feel the ground shuddering as he raced through the sand, pausing only long enough to spare a glance at the dying bokoblin and its slit throat, then at the long, winding trail behind him that showed just how far the Champion had been chased and still not called out for help . 

 

He sent the hero a withering glare before searching him over for any serious injuries. Later. He could chew the kid’s ass out later . For now, they had a plan to reassess. 

 

“Are you still alright to take out its eye?” He puffed, relieved that Wild wasn’t visibly maimed or mortally wounded but not willing to trust it. Behind him, the hinox’s bulbous eye was fixed on them as it continued their way; they had a little time, but not much. 

 

Wild also watched its approach warily, taking an unconscious step backwards as his shoulders drew up in healthy unease before straightening determinedly. “This is nothing, we’ll stick to the plan for now,” he answered, which was all good and well except for the missing advantage of the hinox having been a bit blown up to tilt the odds in their favor. 

 

Guess they’d have to do a bit more of the dirty work, then. Legend watched it run, clumsy, with a clear target at its eye and reflexes to match its bulk. 

 

This was doable. 

 

He threw his head back and laughed before readying his sword, sending a vicious grin towards Wild. “That works for me!” 

 

The Champion raised his bow, preparing to take aim as the Hinox hauled an entire tree from the sandy earth, roots and all, before trudging into range. As if it overheard the hylians’ thoughts, it raised a hand to cover the giant glowing target of its eye, though, peering out through parted fingers as Wild cursed beside him. 

 

“It has some decent if rusty weapons hanging along its necklace,” Wild said tersely as he tried to aim between its fingers. “I would try to grab one while it’s dazed so you don’t find yourself weaponless halfway through the fight.” 

 

Legend glanced at his sword, weathered and ill-cared for, before returning his gaze to the giant, thick skinned monster nearly upon them. “This fucking island, stealing my gear and giving me this crap instead,” he muttered hatefully. 

 

Wild ignored him in favor of firing off an arrow that missed the eye completely, even as it drew that off-putting, sickly yellow orb to focus right on him. For all that the measly little projectile didn’t do jack shit, the hinox seemed to take offense, opting to retaliate by throwing the tree at them . 

 

Holy shit, Wild had not been kidding. 

 

Legend shouted in warning as he dove for the slender hero, tackling him to the ground and curling over him as the tree smashed into the cliff beside them in a spray of screaming wood and flying splinters. They were thankfully far enough from the point of impact to avoid any lethal shrapnel, Legend waiting only long enough to ensure that everything had settled before hauling Wild up and dragging the both of them up the ramping slope of grass. 

 

“You said if we need to we can lose him around this bend, right?”  He shouted, not waiting for an answer as he yanked a stumbling Wild closer, the other hero falling into him. It was no struggle to hoist an arm around that thin waist and drag the Champion along in a deadlong, awkward sprint, the hinox right on their tails as they ran. If they could get it to lose interest, or even get far enough ahead to get the drop from above-

 

Wild stumbled again as he glanced back, yelping, “It has’ta lose sight of us to stop following, Legend, wait, it’s too close!” 

 

Yeah, judging by how the earth rattled with footsteps right on their heels, it probably was, dammit. Wild might be able to make it if he could get far enough and then stay still and let the stealthy elixir do the rest, but the chances of Legend convincing the Champion to abandon him were close to none. 

 

Noble, loyal idiots, the hero lot. 

 

Legend cursed and turned, steadying a swaying Wild before preparing to fight, holding his breath as Wild aimed once more at the monster preparing to swipe at them and hoping for an opening as the arrow flew from the visibly shaking bow. It landed in the unguarded eye, the dark pupil cinching around the shaft as the hinox grabbed at its face with a horrible scream. 

 

To add insult to injury, Wild promptly set the wooden greaves on fire as it loomed before them, and when it doubled over with renewed howls of fury and agony Legend leapt into action. He did his best to cripple it as he had the bokoblin from before in the hopes of at least hampering its movement so they could recoup around the bend, but quickly found that the tough skin was practically armor in its own right, the shoddy blade of the his sword only slicing deep because of the strength he was pouring into every slash. 

 

The weapon gave way as he did his best to sink it into the femoral artery, leaving most of the blade behind as the Veteran was forced to retreat from a blind kick. In the corner of his eye, the weapons Wild had directed him towards dangled where the hinox was still bent over, and he reached up to grab a halberd. Legend pulled himself up to brace his feet against the hinox’s chest before pulling the weapon free and flipping off the monster in one powerful kick before it could get wise and crush him. 

 

Fresh blade in hand -or whatever passed for fresh on this shit-hole of a weapon reserve- Legend was waiting out of range for another opening when Wild, still maintaining fire from farther back, suddenly shrieked a warning. 

 

“Watch out, it’s faster than usual!”

 

It was indeed lunging forward with more dexterity than expected of something that large, but the black blood showed what was likely to blame for the enhanced speed. Legend skittered back, narrowly dodging a swipe that would have broken several important bones. Seemingly in a mindless fury, the monster let loose an ear-rattling roar as it wildly struck out at them, forcing the two heroes to draw away uphill. 

 

Not good- if this kept up, they’d be cornered at the top with nowhere to go but off a cliff down to the clearing below, and that was if there weren’t still monsters in the camp at the crest to attack their backs. 

 

Worst of all was the fact that Wild was landing shots in its eye, but instead of recoiling and leaving itself prone to attacks like the first time, now it only seemed to further incense the already livid monster further, the Champion letting out a scream of frustration as the situation steadily worsened, all the advantages they thought they’d have whittling away as the hinox roared like a rapid thing and attacked without abandon. 

 

Wild must have been hyper focused on aiming for the eye, unknowingly standing his ground as the hinox lashed out a grasping hand towards the unmoving hero. And Legend would never use Wild as bait, but he had to admit- it was a perfect opening, and there was no greater motivator to kick ass than seeing another hero about to get crushed alive in front of him. 

 

Not my dumbass, you don’t. 

 

Legend slid in between wild and the giant’s hand, tearing the blade of the halberd along the artery of the stretching arm, the combined force of the potion-enhanced strength and power of the hinox’s own movement letting the weapon dig deep, releasing a terrible waterfall of inky blood from the length of the limb. He ducked as it drew back, noting with great satisfaction that the hand was useless now too- must’ve gotten some tendons in as a bonus. 

 

The monster was understandably upset, letting loose a terrible, thundering rumble as its bloodied, arrow-peppered eye rolled madly about, snorting incoherently. Legend launched forward into a full-on assault of its legs once more, the rest of its body woefully out of reach, even the stomach too high up for a strong enough stab to pierce its reinforced skin. For all that he was inflicting a shit-ton of damage, none of it was enough to bring the beast down, not even as Legend all but sliced away all the skin and muscle from bone on one leg. 

 

He glanced at the halberd, the blade bitten and jagged and likely near breaking anyways. 

 

Good for one last shot, at least. 

 

He dodged a kick and whirled, letting the magic gather along the steel tip to explode across the shin as he struck it, gratified as the leg audibly snapped and bent where no joint existed, hammering one last blow to the other bare-boned leg before the weapon finally shattered and he withdrew. 

 

Circling around, he eyed its necklace for another weapon, only to have it howl and thunder forward awkward and hobbling and deadly fast despite it. 

 

“Shit!” he yelped, dodging gracelessly between its legs -which were broken , fuck these infected monsters honestly- and only surviving getting crushed because the hinox made no attempt to kick out or trample him, instead aiming for-

 

Fuck, fuck, fuck- Wild!

 

The monster’s bulk blocked Legend’s view as he whirled around and leapt to follow it. There was a short, cut-off hylian scream and then only a thunderous crack as the hinox rammed full-speed into the cliff Wild had been firing from. The Veteran only barely glimpsed the Champion somehow falling on top of the collapsing monster from several meters up the rockface. 

 

The hinox was immediately reaping the consequences of bashing one’s brains out on a mountainside, writhing and rolling uncoordinated as Wild tried to stay atop it, or get off it, or what the hell are you waiting for, Wild, get clear -!

 

Something slammed into Legend’s ribs as he ran, biting chunks from his skin and sending him staggering with a startled grunt. He whirled in an agonizing twist of his torso, clutching one arm around the bruised, bleeding ribs as he took in the cackling bokoblin winding up the blade-riddled club to finish him off. 

 

Gods, even when infected these things were stupid, but at least now he had a weapon to use on that fucking hinox. As it swung he stepped in face to face with the monster, simultaneously too near for the  unwieldy weapon to hit and firmly in the way of its two handed swing. The bokoblin instead opted to try to rip his face off with its teeth, letting one hand off of the club to grasp at Legend’s shoulder. A palm thrust under its jaw cracked its teeth shut, sending its head snapping back as the hero retreated far enough to twist its remaining grip from the weapon and swing the large club across the arm still clawing at his shoulder, heedless of how it left gashes as he shattered its elbow, silencing the screams with a solid, devastating head strike.  

 

He wasted no time moving fast towards the hinox, at first unable to see Wild either still atop it where it was now staggering about or in the area nearby even though he could sense him there, still. 

 

Then it spun, circling about drunkenly, and there Legend’s fellow hero was- clinging desperately to a spear stabbed at the base of the hinox’s skull, likely just as dizzy and disoriented if the panicked confusion across the bond was any indication. 

 

Shit. Okay, first thing’s first- slow the monster down so it stopped moving so damn much. Easier said than done, when it was randomly wobbling about, flailing oddly at thin air and fumbling against the stone face of the hill before looping confusedly about, bloodied eye spinning blindly in its socket as the ugly face drooped and twitched. 

 

Then its broken leg gave way under it, sending it tilting on one knee. 

 

Legend was there in a second, gasping for air as he hammered a magically-reinforced hit into the good knee, letting the club lodge in the bones there as he hauled a sword from its necklace as it reeled forward, twisting the blade under the rope necklace as he pulled it free to let the fibers part and fall away. The orb and remaining weapons fell with a clatter beside him, and he paused for a moment to watch warily for a blow that never came, its only functional arm instead twitched and clawed at the earth. Reeling dizzily as he carefully twisted another precious strand of magic free, he lined the edge at the tip of the blade into something molten and slicing and thrust upwards with his full body behind it. 

 

The hinox moved as he struck, taking a heart-piercing blow and placing it in the lung, instead, but so long as he made it past the skin and ribs at all Legend was glad. The monster screamed down at him, the sound already growing wet with blood, and he reeled back dizzily under the auditory onslaught, light-headed and blinking dots from his vision as his magic protested his withdrawal from already-lacking stores. 

 

The arm Legend had sliced open earlier suddenly spasmed to the side, knocking him flying as it slid along the ground, leaving him to bounce across the grass. He groaned as he came to a stop, the sound only growing louder when he began to roll back downhill before he managed to plant a foot on the ground to stop himself, clawing at the grass as he willed the clouds above him to stop spinning. 

 

They do, just in time for an ugly blue abomination of a ‘blin to enter his line of vision, the tell-tale snorting of Wild’s moblins making its way through his ringing ears just in time for Legend to roll clear of a vicious stomp. The monster warbled a cry as it raised its foot again, and the hero promptly twisted up to all fours and lashed out, driving his foot into the back of its knee and collapsing its leg. 

 

The moblin fell, lashing out with its sword as it landed nearly on top of the Veteran, who avoided getting sliced more out of luck than any skill as he scrambled out of the way and ended up tripping a red bokoblin as it moved to attack him with a basic wooden bat, instead falling over him and covering his retreat by taking the blade in his stead, screeching and dropping its weapon as its back was laid open.  

 

Legend would have laughed, except that the squealing, smaller monster was very promptly plucked up by the moblin and chucked at him like it was a rock. He dropped to the ground to get out of the way, only the virtue of being downhill lending him the space to avoid the bony, squalling form of the bokoblin. It flew narrowly overhead, bouncing downhill before getting caught underfoot of the faltering, bleeding form of the hinox, shuddering as it collapsed for good at last, so frighteningly close to the edge of the dropoff that one of its bony legs was dangling over the side, dripping black blood in streams, broken badly enough after the hinox’s stumbling around on it that it bent all wrong under gravity’s pull. 

 

He felt Wild’s mind flicker out, a gasp wrenching from him as he lunged upright in mindless panic before he registered that it was only a faint, not death. The Champion was still in danger, though, caught in the dying monster’s bulk as it slid over the edge, and Legend had to-

 

Duck!

 

He crouched low, likely losing the tips of his hair to the blade that passed over his tucked head, twisting up to follow the momentum of the strike in an attempt to disarm the moblin, currently bare handed himself and itching to snatch its sword. 

 

Turns out a blue furred moblin was no slouch, though. Even with his enhanced strength the Veteran was unable to pry the infected monster's grip from its sword, hopping away and then sprinting to catch the boko bat rolling slowly down the hill- a terrible weapon, but gods , at least it was something. With a little breathing room as he sprinted off, he chanced a glance over the edge the hinox had tipped over, aware that Wild was alive, yet, and gasping out in relief as he realized they’d landed on the narrow shelf of land below barely large enough for the hinox’s bulk. Still too tenuous for his liking, but as long as the behemoth continued to stay still he had time to get Wild away from it before a thrash sent it reeling into the ocean. 

 

As he half-skidded down the slope, a red chu popped up beside him, following slowly in his wake as the moblin took up the chase and Legend swiftly laid claim to the sad hunk of wood that was no match against a sword backed by the lanky strength of the moblin. 

 

The chu wobbled its way towards him, glowing like lava, and Legend felt a feral grin bloom across his face. He hurled the bat at the chu, the moblin passing by it heedlessly with its sword drawn back as the wooden weapon whipped through the air and made contact. 

 

It was no bomb barrel but boy , did it work nonetheless. The fire chu blew up in a healthy domed explosion that hit both the moblin and Legend, only a few feet farther away than the monster. He was at least on the periphery, the rolling after he was tossed in the air doing most of the work assuring his hair wasn’t on fire, even as he groaned at the burns he could already feel searing across his skin. 

 

At least the fact that he felt them meant they weren’t going to kill him, though. By this point, he had fought and rolled and blown himself far enough down the slope that they were right over where the facedown hinox lay on the shelf below them, the hulking brute now twitching and failing to get up despite its shifting movements, one arm falling frightfully into midair as it tried to push itself up and lacked the solid land to do so. 

 

 Legend was right above it, but the moblin had been tossed over the edge down to their level by the explosion, having fallen to rest upon the twitching monster’s ruined legs. From this angle he could see Wild still near the nape of its neck tilting towards the open air, stirring visibly and mentally through their bond. 

 

He was helpless as Wild weakly moved, head drooping and body hunched, Legend’s heart stopping as he pushed himself up and slipped precariously. But the Champion didn’t fall, and Legend let his gaze instead rove over to the moblin, not yet moving but so, so c lose to the other hero that it couldn’t possibly miss the struggling hylian once it got to its feet. 

 

“Wild, get off it!” He ordered futilely, feeling for himself how out of it the other was by the confused twisting knot of the younger hero’s mind, trying to push himself up to help Wild himself and choking on a pained cry as fresh burns made themselves well and truly known. Legend fumbled at his hip, tearing at the charred leaf bag for the cooked truffles there and nearly swallowing them whole, eyes pinned on Wild’s slowly shifting form the entire time, noting that something was very wrong by how long it was taking the other to get ahold of himself. 

 

Feeling the healing effect kick in with gradual heat across his ribs and the seared layer of skin covering his body, Legend lifted himself onto his elbows gingerly, blinking to clear his vision and noting the moblin wasn’t wasn’t dying from its injuries, but also wasn’t rushing to go finish off Wild as he’d feared. The burns littering its fur were far worse than the quickly healing reddened skin along his own side though, its back little more than exposed muscle where the explosion had caught it nearly point blank. 

 

Legend staggered to his feet, cursing under his breath as he determinedly moved towards the sword flung into the flaming grass farther upslope, testing the heat of its hilt before determining that it wouldn’t scald his palm. Weapon secured, he jogged over to slide down the steep cliffside and finish the moblin, which even now was trying to gather its limbs beneath it as it hatefully hissed up at him, one flopping ear nearly gone as he he stared spitefully back, happy to hold its attention away from the semi-conscious Champion a short ways away from it.  

 

A sound at his back, and from the peak above him peered a final blue bokoblin, victory in its maddened, intelligent eyes as it looked down at the array of unfortunates tiered beneath it. 

 

There was a distinctive red bomb barrel hoisted over its head. 

 

Tucked in what must certainly be the utterly rancid hollow of the hinox’s armpit, Wild slumped and began to slip into a freefall, not enough flat land open past the sloping rolls of the hinox’s arm to stop him rolling right over the edge into the water- 

 

Legend screamed , half to rouse Wild and half trying desperately to draw the blin’s attention and its aim. 

 

The bokoblin hurled its cargo, the barrel spiralling high over the Veteran’s head as it careened towards hinox and half-conscious hero alike. 

 

No , he thought desperately, absent of any means to knock the barrel askew, unable to stop the way he jolted forward nonetheless as it fell before him. 

 

It all went up in flames. 

 

For the too many’th fucking time in the past day, Legend was hit by a heated wall of air, a purposeful hum of magic over his skin saving him from the flames this time, though not from the way his lungs rocked in his body as the shockwave rolled through him. He shuddered for a moment as he fought for air, lunging unsteadily to his feet and wheezing in a shallow breath of smoke as he staggered back to the edge of the cliff he’d been flung away from. Disorientated from the concussive wave but not about to let that stop him, the Veteran skidded down the side of it in something halfway to a freefall, racing over the shelf of land and immediately diving over the second ledge to the dark, sinking mass under the surface.  

 

He sliced through the water towards Wild, little more than a fading sense of the last warmth of dusk fading to star-spotted night- a banner falling limo in the still air-motes of light going out in the dark-

 

In the murk of the deep, lungs burning already, he could make out Wild’s twisting form, choking on the sea as he reached desperately out into empty water, his soul screaming out for help, for anyone -

 

Legend, all too aware of how far below the surface they were and the way his own air was running short, reached out even as he bent to reverse direction, one hand tangling in the swirl of hair surrounding Wild’s head and the other more fortunately managing a firmer grip around his ribcage. He lashed his legs furiously as he propelled himself and a flailing, dead-weight Wild higher, longing desperately for his mermaid tail or any of his more aquatically inclined brothers as the slight hylian in his grasp drowned in his arms, spasming as the last few bubbles escaped his mouth to trail upwards. 

 

They almost didn’t make it; by the time the far off promise of blue sky bloomed into reality above them, Legend was distinctly light-headed himself even as he craned his head and struggled to keep Wild above water so he, too, could breath, back pressed to his chest. But the other hero only jostled limply as Legend moved them awkwardly through the waves, head lolling back bonelessly over his shoulder as his mind slipped away regardless of the air awaiting his lungs’ call. 

 

A shuddering twitch of the ribs under his hands resulted only in a weak parody of a cough, seawater pouring uselessly from Wild’s lips before he went utterly still. 

 

Legend had already been swimming as fast as he could, but he was out of time to wait to get to shore- Wild wasn’t breathing, and was clinging to consciousness only by virtue of how viciously Legend was tugging on his mind. 

 

It had been years since Legend had been on the water, but the instructions he’d been given for the drowned once it had become clear to the other sailors that he would regularly be traveling the seas for his travels had been rudimentary enough that he recalled them even now. At the time, the almost haphazardly delivered instructions had seemed terrifying to him as a fresh sailor, just one more reason for him to be wary of mistakes and storms, all that soon to fade as his hubris and the ever-building pressures of being several kingdom’s hero wore away at his caution. 

 

Now, though, those slapdash directions were all he had, and he clung to them with all the desperation of a buoy in a storm.

 

If they weren’t breathing, clear the water from their lungs. If they still didn’t breathe, give them air. 

 

After three minutes of failure, stop trying; it wasn’t worth it.

 

Legend scrambled for how long Wild had been underwater, how long it had taken him to get to the surface, how many seconds had he wasted already -

 

Already practically hugging the other from behind as he treaded water, Legend immediately folded his fingers together over Wild’s chest and constricted his hold in a quick jerk, kicking furiously to keep them above the waterline. Wild jolts with the motion, a fresh wave of water proving Legend’s efforts had at least done something, the Champion jerking once and choking as he tried again to draw air through waterlogged lungs. 

 

Kicking furiously to keep them afloat, Legend drew the other harshly against him once more, hands scooping roughly up under Wild’s ribcage in an attempt to force more of the seawater out so he could breathe . The Champion coughed, and this time he didn’t stop, water falling freely from his mouth as Legend did his level best to make sure he didn’t inhale any sea froth or further fluid as he shuddered and tried to curl up. 

 

Taking small comfort in the shallow, whistling gasps Wild was managing between too-wet coughs, Legend made a renewed effort to draw them to shore, far too long passing before finally the seafloor met his feet and he was at last able to stagger upright properly. He hauled Wild up gracelessly as the other weakly sputtered, his attempt to help sending both hylians sprawling as a wave broke around their legs and swept their feet from under them. 

 

Legend twisted to let Wild stay above water as he went down, losing hold of him as he tried not to drag him down, sputtering unhappily as he drew his head from the water and sat up, soaked to his waist. The other hero had been dumped in the shallows, bowed on all fours in wrist deep water as he coughed violently to clear his lungs, the sound terrifyingly wet as water dripped from his jaws. Wild’s desperate hacking gave way to retching up a bellyful of swallowed seawater as Legend splashed closely enough to make sure he didn’t collapse face first into the ocean, wary of the powerful trembling of his limbs. 

 

There went the potions, Legend thought resignedly, ears pinning back in stress at the healing potential that was being drawn away already by the waves, not having been in Wild’s system long enough to work through the long-term regenerative properties they still had to offer. His meager hope that perhaps Wild only had to clear the water was ruined as he gagged again, his overuse of potions combined with the copious amount of seawater consumed while drowning wearing past the last of his stomach’s delicate tolerance.  

 

“Shit, again? ” He worried, immediately flinching as Wild made a weak, miserable sound. “No, okay. Get it out Wild, you’re alright,” he said tightly, aware that his voice was coming across as harsh and strained in his attempt not to let the panic seep into it. 

 

Wild moaned, but even that felt less like an acknowledgement than mere suffering. Even past the near drowning, it was clear that the Champion hadn’t escaped being blown into an ocean alongside a hinox without taking additional damage- atop the yellowed bruises from last night, fresh purple was blooming across his ribs, and his coordination was completely shot. 

 

Legend rested a hand on his back as he gave another bristly cough, dazed eyes focusing at last as Wild turned from blankly watching the water to instead jolt to his feet- or try to, at least. 

 

He slurred something as he staggered back to his knees the Veteran making out little more than his name and-

 

Oh. The orb, sitting safely up on the grass, likely near where he’d cut it free from the hinox’s neck before it had fallen, then fallen again. Wild likely hadn’t seen that part of it, tangled at the time atop the hinox as he had been. 

 

Except Legend couldn’t find it in himself to care enough about the cursed metal ball as Wild broke into another round of worrisome coughs, nearly collapsing as another wave broke around them, clearly disoriented and worried more for a-a metal ball than the fact that he’d nearly drowned . 

 

The Champion seemed content to just move past the fact, but Legend? 

 

The stress of the past fight and the fear of seeing Wild atop the hinox, seeing the bomb hurtling overhead towards him, imagining him fall into the water alongside a hurtling mass of meat and feeling exactly how disoriented and afraid he’d been- all of it hit at once, the adrenaline that had been driving the older hero this whole time finally crashing over his head until he couldn’t tell if his racing heart was from fear or anger. 

 

Legend had a freshly re-injured, recently imperiled soulmate on his hands, an island that held all his worst triggers as his prison, and no way to fix either of those problems at the moment. Something about Wild, focusing on an inanimate orb and completely glossing over his own near fatal ordeal instantly snapped something in Legend. 

 

Because this wasn’t like his and Wars’ tendencies to joke about their wounds to alleviate fear, nor any of the Chain’s brushing off injuries until there was time and safety to treat them. This was Wild not paying a single thought for the fact that he had nearly just died, giving not a single care for how close he’d come to just being g one . 

 

It was terrifying, seeing that kind of blase attitude towards himself, and Legend could not listen to it, he couldn’t . Because he was already trapped here with all his ghosts and with Wild, who currently faced a whole host of possible compilations from drowning and whatever other injuries he’d garnered, seemed disinclined to take action to avoid dying prematurely, not to mention the potion overdose complicating his condition, oh gods, do they risk giving him yet more again-

 

Legend sucked in a sharp gasp, his hearing slipping back just in time to hear Wild gasp out “‘th’orb” again between his battered lungs’ complaints. 

 

“Shut the fuck up, Wild,” he bit out, each word carefully separated so as not to betray the shaking in his voice. “Don’t worry about the orb,” he added stiffly after a moment, jaw clenching. 

 

The tremble in his hands wasn’t as easy to disguise, but Wild was well past the point where he noticed that . The Champion coughed weakly, but was thankfully quiet, blinking doleful, watering eyes at him, the vague confusion in them eliciting more guilt at his outlash than any accusation could have. Clenching his hands hard enough to feel his nails dig into his palms, Legend forced himself to relax, starting with his hands and moving steadily up to his shoulders and neck and down the line of his back. 

 

By the end he could already feel the tension creeping back in, but though his heart had yet to calm down at least the wild, uncontrolled edge to the situation no longer seemed so overwhelming. His hands were already fisted again despite his attempt to consciously relax them, so he instead reached forward to help Wild, forcing his grip to be gentle on the other’s bruised skin. 

 

“Just- sit down and rest a little, okay? You’re still coughing up water, for fuck’s sake.” He kept his voice soft, and coaxing, speaking a little too fast to mask the anxiety. “Come on, let’s get up on to the beach,” he cajoled, nearly dragging the slumped hero out of the water and onto the pebbled shore. Wild’s legs gave out completely, and Legend let him slowly down once he checked they were out of the waves’ reach, keeping him upright in the hopes of helping his still-labored breathing. 

 

Wild was sitting up on his own, if swaying, and after a moment of searching suspiciously for any enemies nearby, Legend warily lowered himself to sit beside him, softly coaxing him to lean on his shoulder. The Champion obliged easily, visibly weary and only minimally responsive as the older hero carefully checked his ribs and bruising for any more severe internal damage, even if he did give a stronger wince as Legend gently felt at his scalp, nervous at the swelling that proved the cut was the least of the concern there. 

 

Finally, Wild had enough of his worried prodding, pulling away from his bloodied fingers to turn to him, cocking his head into a gentle, bobbing tilt and opening his mouth as if to speak. Legend waited patiently, worry rising as the silence drew out, the Champion’s look of concentration and concern only growing. Finally, Wild gave a slow blink, tentatively prompting, “‘The orb?”

 

Oh, for fuck’s sake . 

 

“The orb is fine!” Legend snapped. “I cut it loose up there while you were riding around on top of that hinox. It was just sitting there when I jumped down-” Or so he assumed, definitely not having taken the time to check before diving off to save Wild’s life, “- so stop worrying about it. 

Just sit down for a while, you look like you’re about to keel over,” he quipped, doing a little bit of aggressive hovering.  

 

Wild gave him an utterly tragic look, folding carelessly over his upraised knees with a sad keen as he buried his face in his arms. “I just want to finish this and get out of here. Can we please just go?” He said beseechingly, the muffled effect only making it all the more pathetic. 

 

Legend understood the feeling more than Wild probably realized. He’d only been here a little over a day, and it wore so heavily on him that it felt far, far longer, straining his mental coping capabilities -which were both more fragile and more shored up than most due to his many, many adventures and traumas- to their very limits . 

 

He rested a hand on Wild’s back, wincing at the ribs jutting far too easily against his palm but adamantly keeping it there, even adding a little rub to make Sky proud. Then Legend took his best shot at reassurance, because as bad as it was , it could be a hell of a lot worse. “Look, almost all the monsters are dead. The rest of them ambushed me up there while you were falling, and there can’t be more than one or two left up there. Unless your blood moon brought back additional monsters, we should be safe for now, water enemies aside,” he said, sending a sharp glare at said water. It was safe to rest here, at least. 

 

Take a moment to breathe, recover, and figure out what to do now. Wild hummed in response, but seemed content to rest under Legend’s watch. Bare skinned as they were, the sun provided a little warmth, but not enough to battle the sea breeze that drew a shiver from Wild. Legend thoughtlessly tucked up against his back, curling around him and offering the only warmth he could, reassured by the even breaths measured out in his hold.

 

It didn’t take long at all for Wild to finally drift off, his injuries and illness dragging him into the rest he so desperately needed to heal. Of course, it wasn’t until the other hero had gone still that Legend realized the chance to feed him any of their healing foods had passed. He waffled uncertainly with waking him again, weighing the benefits of rest against the dubious benefit of forcing more healing items on his overtaxed system. 

 

With Wild’s groggy confusion, he feared what damage might have been dealt, though. Gently, he gave Wild’s shoulder a soft shake, then a firmer one when the Champion remained limp and unresponsive. 

 

It was only once he had the other hero laid on his back, still nonreactive as he thumbed an eyelid open, that he realized the other was fully unconscious. 

 

Yeah, that is a very bad sign , he thought, burying his hands in his hair as he curled forward. 

 

There were only two options now, really. Wait here until Wild woke up enough to risk the healing items, or try to finish the island’s trials and get the Champion some proper care. It didn’t make sense to waste time just sitting here, though, not when they would have to place all the orbs anyway to get out. As long as Wild wasn’t being endangered, there was no reason not to multitask waiting and working. 

 

And if Wild didn’t wake up…

 

No, he would wake up, eat the accursed fruit and hopefully keep it down, and in the meantime Legend would be doing something useful, not sitting by Wild’s side twiddling his thumbs. He couldn’t leave the other hero alone, not if there was a single iota of doubt he’d be safe. That meant dragging Wild around as he matched the remaining pedestals and orbs; the first pair of which was above him, and the other up a cliff he did not have the stability to worry about just now. 

 

With any luck, Wild would be awake and healed by then and able to provide another trick. 

 

The power enhancing effect of the potion had worn off minutes ago, but drawing Wild’s ragdoll body up into a bridal carry was no great hardship, considering he was thinner than ever and Legend was no slouch, even without his power bracelets. His heart squeezed in concern yet again at the wasted thighs draped over his arm, the sharp press of Wild’s spine even more prominent, though whether that was their further use of potions or just his imagination was impossible to tell. 

 

Legend didn’t have the magic to spare for his sensory net, as much as he ached to have even that added boost to his vigilance. There was at least one monster still atop the hill where the pedestal awaited, and Wild’s world had already shown itself to be abundant in monsters popping randomly from the earth or the trees above, leaving the Veteran hugging the stone cliff as he began the climb up the ramp once more. He moved slowly, painfully aware that the bokoblin could very well still be looking down and around, and that there had been many more than just the one explosive barrel available for it to throw down at them even now. 

 

The orb was conspicuously absent along the ramp, though, and Legend tried very hard not to let the growing wave of frustration drive him to despair. He could look for it once he was sure they weren’t going to be ambushed by the remaining bokoblin or any further surprises- if it’s not here, it’s nearby somewhere and if it’s not, if it did go into the ocean-  

 

Well. Then it looks like he may be diving after all. 

 

But for now, he had to see what was awaiting them at the pedestal. They continued on unheckled, he ‘blin having either abandoned its post tossing bombs down the grassy ramp or gone wandering the island. Legend took it as the boon it was, settling Wild down against the last stretch of stone face and peering around the final ledge to the flattened hilltop where the monster camp awaited. 

 

He’d hoped for it to be empty, but his luck hadn’t held out that far- the bokoblin was settled by the fire, roasting some poor bird upon a skewer. Legend ducked back behind the ledge, settling onto his heels as he glanced at Wild, bleeding and bruised and brows creasing in pain as he shifted-

 

Oh shit , Legend realized, just as Wild let out a low groan and made a weak attempt to roll on his side, overbalancing on the sloped ground. The Veteran hushed him as he jerked to stop him landing face first in the grass, but the semi-conscious hero only slurred “Wassat?” as he tried to lift his head to look at Legend. 

 

The bokoblin made a startled snort above them, and Legend knew they were out of time if he didn’t want to face another bomb barrel overhead. He hoisted the bow and a fire arrow from the other hero as quickly as he could, Wild all limp limbed and questioning noises before Legend tipped him onto his back and launched himself around the bend and up the slope, seeing Wild immediately try to sit up and instead fall dizzily face down in the grass before his view of him was cut off as he moved up around the curve onto the flattened hilltop.. 

 

That fucking bokoblin was already armed with a barrel, and as he raced into view it moved towards him, chortling as it hoisted it higher to toss it at the hylian, unmoving as he leveled a bow at the monster in return. 

 

Legend wasn’t a great shot, but he was good enough for this. The flaming arrow jumped across the six meter gap between them, sinking into the wood of the crimson barrel with what he imagined would have been a solid thud, if not for the explosion that drowned it out. 

 

Out of the variety of times he’d been blown up on this accursed chunk of rock, he ranked this one as middling- nowhere near the cushy comfort of hiding behind the ledge at a safe distance, but markedly better than an infected fire chu being struck at close range. He was knocked staggering, gladly falling to curl on the ground for fear of shrapnel. The fire thankfully didn’t quite reach him, even if the heat was painful as it scorched over his skin. He warily lifted his head, squinting through the dispersing smoke as he got to his feet, less concerned about the bokoblin possibly having survived than curious about what would be left over after that show. 

 

Nothing much at all, as it turns out. The traditional bodily remnants were gone, which he was actually genuinely sorry for, now that he realized they’d been incinerated; they’d nothing left over from their previous bout of potion brewing, and now that the camps’ inhabitants had likely all been killed there was suddenly a drought of monsters and, ironically enough after facing so many of the fiends in the last hour, monster parts with which to heal themselves. 

 

The good news was, even if there were no horns or guts or hell, even fish to cook up, there was a familiar glowing orb, clearly reclaimed by the bomb-happy bokoblin and resting amongst the barrels, unharmed. 

 

“Oh, thank fuck ,” he cried, grateful that there was no need to go scoping out the whole island for an errant orb. Wild’s mind was still humming and warping weirdly, but seemed unharmed by the explosion, so before anything else could go wrong Legend pranced delicately through the burning grass to roll the orb to the pedestal and lift it carefully into place, watching bemusedly as the orange highlights shifted to blue with a mechanical hum. 

 

He brushed his hands free of charred smudges onto his legs, turning to trot cheerily to the Champion, calling as he rounded the corner, “Wild, good news! The orb’s in place, and that could very well have been the last- ah, no!” 

 

Legend jolted forward, sliding to his knees and jostling the close-eyed form, only half successful in waking Wild from the sleep he’d slipped so quickly into. 

 

“No, nice try- I need you to eat this first, though,” he said distractedly, trying to gather some of the truffles while holding up the other hero’s lolling head and limp torso, knowing Wild wasn’t playing a limp noodle to be purposely belligerent but suffering the same consequences as if he had been, so how much of a difference was there, really?

 

“Dun’ wanna eat the… orb?” Wild garbled nonsensically, eyes fluttering. Legend dragged his hand up, dumping a truffle onto it, to the obvious confusion of the struggling hylian. 

 

“Eat the truffle, Wild,” he enticed, heartened as Wild let his hand be guided to his mouth despite the questioning hum he let out. 

 

Hylia, though, wasn’t about to let that fly- Wild’s bobbing head slumped all at once onto his shoulder, fingers going lax around the truffle as he passed out once more, still not having managed to eat anything to help him with that little issue. 

 

Legend let his head fall back, eyes squeezing shut as he forced himself to take a long, measured breath. 

 

“Fuck,” he said with heartfelt dismay, giving himself a minute to acknowledge that the situation sucked before forging ahead. 

 

Plan B was still in motion, and Wild was promptly hauled up onto his back to give his burning biceps a break before Legend beelined it down the hill and over to the other tiered set of plateaus, and his greatest nemesis yet: the cliffs. The Champion gave an indistinct murmur as he descended, slipping into and out of consciousness shallowly as he walked, his wakefulness always too ephemeral and dazed for Legend to do anything to help. 

 

Except as he passed by the stinking patch of earth the hinox had originally been snoozing upon, Wild groaned and continued to wake up, mind clearing a little instead of sinking back into shifting, swirling semi-consciousness. He turned his face into Legend’s hair, coughing into his ear. 

 

“Oh, for-” Legend promptly jerked his head away, noting that the sound hadn’t been as worryingly wet as Wild’s initial coughing fits, at least, though it really didn’t need to happen so close to his face to hold the reassurance. He knelt down and carefully maneuvered the Champion to the ground, immediately turning and sliding in behind him to brace him between uplifted knees, tapping insistently at his cheek. 

 

Wild groaned indistinctly, though, and the fact that he was growing less aware and wakeful had Legend worriedly pulling at his eyelids again, trying to tip his face to the sun so he could check his eyes. Wild’s pupils were contracted, but the same size, and it could very well be because of the bright sun he was inconsiderately forcing the other to look into with what had to be an agonizing headache, judging by Wild’s attempt at squinting and weak “Stop it,” followed by no move whatsoever to make the older hero cease and desist. 

 

He shifted to shade the other’s face, watching keenly as his pupils dilated a little in the shade of his head. Looked alright to him, but Legend wasn’t a doctor, damn it. Or a healer, or even a medic, and something was very, very wrong for Wild to be this out of it. He shifted the other to be more comfortable leaned against his propped up knee, a couple of questions leaving him no less assured of Wild’s condition. Yes, he was dizzy. Of course he was still nauseous, too- both had been symptoms plaguing Wild long before he’d been drowned. 

 

But the worsened unresponsiveness and fugue was worrisome. “What do you last remember?” He asked warily, nudging the younger hero back upright as he shifted clumsily and nearly toppled over.  

 

A slow blink, blue eyes struggling to focus. “There’ws a hin…x? Mnn… Water?” Wild murmured quietly when asked what he recalled, the slurred speech only further agitating Legend’s concerns. The weary somnolence suddenly gave way to a brief surge of energy, blue eyes opening wholly for a moment as he garbled, “Th’orB! ‘Sgone?” 

 

The Veteran’s heart sank, his chest tightening in the start of panic. “The orb is fine!” he snapped, watching unhappily as Wild slumped back in boneless relief. “ “You and the hinox got blown into the water, yes. I got you out, do you remember that?” 

 

Sharp purple eyes picked up every flicker of hesitation, attempted contemplation, and exhausted dismissal that passed over Wild’s expensive face. 

 

“Sure,” the Champion said agreeably, very clearly deciding just to go along with what Legend claimed. The older hero couldn’t help the pissy growl that rolled in his throat, trapped behind his teeth. Memory problems too, then, what the hell-

 

Oh. Oh, he hadn’t checked- 

 

“Are you hurting?” His voice was weary, fully expecting a fight to get a straight answer out of the other, which made Wild’s immediate “Yes” all the more alarming. 

 

“Where?” The older hero demanded sharply as his heart sank, his arm tightening where it was supporting Wild. Trouble staying awake, disorientation, dizziness, nausea-

 

“‘M head,” he said, hand flopping against Legend’s leg where he tried to lift it to gesture and gave up part way. 

 

“What?” He didn’t know Wild had taken a head injury, hadn’t even thought of it- the Champion’s previous illness and weakness masking the symptoms of what surely had to be a concussion, based on Wild’s behavior and on the size of the lump he could feel behind his ear now that Legend was checking for it.

 

He’d brushed it all off as whatever Wild had arrived with growing more severe, missing what was right in front of him. And he’d been so scattered that he hadn’t even checked for a head wound, it having slipped his mind as he took in the multitude of bruises and cuts so easily visible across his bare skin. 

 

“Shit, shit!” He hissed vehemently, trying to better gauge whether the younger hylian’s skull was cracked without really knowing what, exactly, that would feel like. He tried to probe around the swelling helplessly, drawing a weak gasp from Wild before the other hero swooned, wilting half-conscious against the older hylian. 

 

“Okay,” Legend said shakily to himself, hugging the limp Champion to his chest and trying very hard not to panic, instead letting himself fall hard and fast into guilt. Over taking this long to get Wild to eat the goddess-damned fruit, over not noticing a fucking concussion, over not saving his hapless companion in the first place. 

 

Not helpful , though, and Wild very much needed help at the moment. 

 

He didn’t have smelling salts, but he did have something close enough. Legend plucked up the bottle filled with the diced, odorous durian and uncorked it, breathing through his mouth and fighting the urge to lean back as he wafted it mercilessly under Wild’s nose. 

 

It worked even better than expected- the Champion jolted and reeled away onto his hands and knees, gagging but more fully awake then he’d managed for far too long for Legend’s sanity. The Veteran was quick to pull the bottle away and cover the opening with his thumb, but he still felt a little bad as Wild shuddered, only narrowly escaping a fresh set of dry heaves by the pallor of his skin and clammy sweat shining on his back. 

 

Legend couldn’t blame him, wrinkling his nose as he unconsciously wafted the air around to clear it.  

 

Glazed blue eyes glared up at him, a baleful wheeze of “Wha’ the hell ,” doing little to mitigate the Champion’s current sad state. Legend steeled himself, sorry for what was to come but not sorry enough to risk Wild worsening. 

 

Still, he gave the other a cautious pat on the back as he drew the bottle surreptitiously closer again, sidling up and watching with a sharp eye to be sure Wild wasn’t going to lose consciousness again already. 

 

At least in that respect the durian would be pulling double duty. 

 

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, more for Wild’s misery than for what he was about to do. “But you’re going to eat some. You’ve got a nasty concussion and I’m not risking it getting worse, so while you’re conscious enough to eat you’re going to eat this damned durian, and if you throw it up I’m going to make you eat more.” Wild stared at him in something close to horror, and Legend stared back unflinchingly, face determined. 

 

Legend’s lips pursed as the Champion let out a thin whine, shoulders tense. “Maybe if you plug your nose?” He offered flatly as a consolation, grip on the Champion tightening as the dismay faded from Wild’s face in favor of something blank and empty. The younger hylian watched him, and with each blink the visible confusion and disorientation grew, lips parting before he fell silent, utterly lost. 

 

Across the bond, the other hero’s thoughts slowly fell still under the obscuring fog clouding it, the bright, dancing mind he’d glimpsed after the energy potion nothing like the pale, sluggish consciousness before him now. He gave the soul bound to his own a little nudge, bolstering it as best he could with his presence. 

 

It was, of course, utterly ineffective against the concussion and illness causing the issue. But the other’s mind grew less fearful of its own foggy deterioration with Legend’s soul pressed close, still confused and weary but no longer alone, at least, taking comfort in him being so near. 

 

Opening his eyes again even as he maintained the open bond between them, Legend gave up on the gentle approach in favor of a tone more likely to pierce through the other’s mental haze. “Wild, I’m going to plug your nose and you’re going to eat this, okay?” 

 

Wild hummed, sleepily murmuring a confused, “Eat what?” that the Veteran ignored as he deemed the other mentally unfit to have a say anymore. He pinched Wild’s nose shut and pressed the durian to lips that were suddenly pursed shut, the other pulling away in confusion and unease. 

 

“I’m not moving until you eat it, so best just get it over with,” Legend said tersely, and finally Wild opened his mouth- to breathe or to actually eat the fruit, he didn’t know, but it was shoved in all the same. Once it was in his mouth Wild seemed willing enough to do the rest on his own, thankfully not trying to spit it out. A minute of the food sitting easily enough in the younger hero’s stomach, and Legend coaxed another series of fruit bits into him, watching cautiously for any sign of discomfort.  

 

“You feeling better?” He checked, eyeing Wild’s improved pallor and the improved clarity in his eyes. “I don’t want to give you too much and have you throw it all back up.” For all that he longed to shove all their healing items down his throat to ensure the other would be fine- it was clear that the scarce handful and a half hadn’t been enough to do more than take the worst edge off of Wild’s concussion, but on the other hand, it also hadn’t taken enough magic or energy to sicken him, either.

 

Legend hated this balancing act, and hated even more that it was all based on a guess of what was even wrong with Wild in the first place.  

 

The Champion sat up, shoulders slumped and hands trembling in his lap as if too heavy to lift, but unsupported and not fainting. He was even able to comprehend the question and formulate a proper answer, pronunciation still indistinct but nowhere near as slurred as before. “Better, yeah. Still feel like shit, though.”

 

Barely acceptable, but a win nonetheless.

 

“I’d be more worried if you said you didn’t, honestly,” Legend sighed, only to jerk forward and haul Wild back up as he tried to lay down. “Hey, no, stay awake though.” 

 

Wild let out an exhausted, pleading keen, eyes damp and upset and deeply weary as he looked mournfully up at Legend. The Vet’s heart seized, because it wasn’t fair to Wild, that he’d been through all this shit and more besides, and all he had for help was Legend, stripped of everything useful about him. 

 

“I know,” he said guiltily, all too aware of Wild’s agonizing misery and how helpless he was to mitigate it in the slightest. “I know.” 

 

Wild exhaled shakily, tears falling silently as he trembled in Legend’s arms, the older hero pulling him close for a long moment, doing his best to imbue warmth and strength into the cool, weakened hylian he was trying to save. 

 

“Listen,” Legend said softly, resting a hand gently at the back of Wild’s head, careful of the swollen knot there. “You can go back to sleep but I have to ask- the last pedestal…” 

 

He paused, gauging Wild’s focus, sifting through what questions the other would be able to follow, which answers most essential. He tipped the other’s face towards him, stern features softened by concern. 

 

 “There’s a long, dark stone on top of the last pedestal, too big to move.” He spoke slowly, voice steady and firm, purple eyes pinned to glazed blue as if he could hold Wild’s attention by will alone. “How did you move the stone to clear the pedestal, Wild?” 

 

A slow blink, thin features twisting in uncertainty. “A …stone?” 

 

Legend's jaw hurt with how hard he had it clenched, letting his eyes drift shut for a moment as he fought down the panic. A breath in, and he met Wild’s eyes once more, fighting desperately against the other’s injured brain. “How do you move the giant, flat stone slabs, Wild?” 

 

Blink. “The stasis rune on my slate” Wild said simply, features relaxed and and mouth parted in something like awe as he stared into Legend’s eyes almost intently enough to be off putting.  “Whack it a couple times, and when time starts again it goes flying off,” he continued nonsensically, voice growing dreamier as his eyes lost focus and his head bobbed.  

 

That was absolutely no more information than Wild had already given him earlier, on the rune. “Okay, yeah, of course,” He said agreeably, sure he could make it work from that, with a little bit of trial and error, watching Wild light up a little as if he’d praised him. “Can I borrow your slate, then?”

 

Wild shook his head, and Legend tilted his head sternly. “The stone is up a cliff, and you’re not exactly in shape to be rock-climbing,” he said dryly, frowning as gave another negatory head shake. The Veteran understood perfectly well being protective of one’s gear, but it truly wasn’t necessary here- he wasn’t going to keep it or anything, unlike a certain Captain who still had a ‘borrowed’ fire rod several months later. “Just for a minute, Wild, just to clear the pedestal and then I’ll give it back.”

 

Wild didn’t budge, though. “You can’t.” He said, and his tone was less adamant than it was dismayed- more of Wild unable to let him use it, rather than unwilling. He shifted under Legend’s expectant if not functionally patient gaze, brows furrowed in focus before finally answering properly. 

 

The reason, as it turned out, was simple enough: “It’s mine,” Wild said softly, pronunciation soft edged and blurred. “Keyed to me alone. No one else can use it, not for anything.” 

 

Legend narrowed his eyes, reaching out a hand. “You lot don’t even properly know what magic is . Let me try,” he demanded, flexing his fingers until Wild clumsily unhooked the slate and lifted it with both his hands. Legend caught the Champion’s hands up with his own, the both of them holding the slate between them. 

 

“Wake it up,” he requested absently, eyes and magic fixed on the odd item, currently silent and inert to his senses. The Champion’s magic was slow to well up; familiar by now, and just as untamed as before, if slightly subdued in its playful nature. The slate woke and presented a keyhole of sorts, and Wild’s magic twisted intricately-

 

And the slate’s screen opened, all of it done in half a second. “Shit,” he murmured, frowning deeply. Legend lifted it into his own hands, the screen growing dark as Wild’s touch withdrew alongside his magic, and prodded it himself. He was running uncomfortably low, but this wasn’t a matter of using energy so much as flashing an ID, of sorts, and that was far, far worse. 

 

For all that he could mimic the shape and twist of spellwork, reflect warmth or element as needed, he couldn’t change the fact that his magic was his , not Wild’s. Even as he reached out and the keyhole was presented, Legend already had a sinking feeling that it was more than refined enough not to be fooled by him, but they were reincarnations of the same spirit, so maybe-

 

“Shit!” The magic bit him sharply, harmless but warning him from further attempts as he danced it over his hands and dropped it back on Wild’s lap. He watched in dismay as the Champion tucked it in its holster again, turning up the ledge beside them, unsure of how he was going to get up it, nonetheless manage to drag Wild along.

 

One thing was for certain: he couldn’t cheat the slate into letting him access it, any more than even the most skilled sorcerer could ever hope to fool the MasterSword. 

 

While Legend despaired, the younger hero had taken advantage of the Veteran’s distraction, drooping into his side with a quiet sigh. Legend obligingly curled an arm around him, trying not to focus too hard on the bones pressing against him, the hands trembling near his leg, how Wild’s skin was far too cool for the warm day around them. He ran a hand along the other’s forearm, staring up at the ledge and plotting while Wild got what rest they could afford. 

 

Maybe the durian had done enough, and the Champion could manage a shallower slope if Legend helped. 

 

There was only one way to find out. 

 

He nudged his shoulder, jostling Wild gently. “Can you stand up?” 

 

With help, the dazed hylian managed to get propped on his feet, leaning heavily on Legend but upright nonetheless. He coaxed him forward a few dragging steps, heart sinking at how obviously weak the other was, unable to even bear his own weight to stay steady, nonetheless drag it up a vertical face. Legend grit his teeth, straightening up and hoisting Wild a little higher as his knees began to give out. 

 

Nothing here but steep, unmarred cliffside- he moved to continue along the ridge, only for Wild to slump completely into his side, breathing ragged. and skin clammy, already at his limit. 

 

They were running out of time, and that, more than anything, cemented Legend’s determination to figure out a way up. Gauging which segment had the best chance of allowing an inexperienced climber to hoist a semi-conscious deadweight up its length. Refusing to be daunted, he let Wild slowly down, crouching in front of him and drawing a bony arm over his shoulder. The other rolled bonelessly to the side, twisting awkwardly as he gave a questioning sound and roused slightly at the handling. 

 

“You could help a little,” he said teasingly, giving the other a wry, sad grin over his shoulder. Wild blinked owlishly at him and managed to wrangle his shaking limbs in a proper backpack hold, sighing and going limp as Legend carefully shrugged to guide the other’s chin over his shoulder instead of smushed at his spine where the other had collapsed. 

 

Legend humphed, shifting Wild’s not- inconsiderable weight; for all that he was too light, he was still a full grown hylian with all the wiry muscle his wasted frame could maintain. He kept a careful eye on his surroundings even as he craned his head to survey the ridge leading to the plateau above, walking along its base searching for…. Something. 

 

Steps, if he was lucky or another ramped path. Hell, at this point he’d take a circuitous, rocky footpath with a drop off on one side. 

 

There was none of that, of course. Only the same tall rock faces, some so steep as to be inverted, for fuck’s sake, but none so shallow an incline that Wild could manage it in his current state, nor Legend with the other on his back. At one point, he hiked up the tree fort, gauging the distance from the highest platform there to the plateau. 

 

There was a quiet, distressed moan from the semiconscious hylian upon his back, fingers brushing feather-light over his bare skin as the hand draped over his collarbone curled weakly. Legend yelped and twitched at the accidental tickling, jostling Wild enough that he stirred, drawing his arms up to loop around the Veteran’s neck. 

 

“Ledge?” Came the soft murmur, Wild’s head bumping up against his. 

 

Legend sighed before pressing his cheek to the top of the other’s head in a wordless show of comfort. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. Still trying to figure out how we’re going to get up there, is all.” He didn’t bother to say anything else, assuming the other wasn’t aware enough to parse the problem at hand. 

 

Wild was always full of surprises, though, and turned out some of them could be good after all. “Just climb?” he said as if Legend was being an idiot, instead of someone with poor finger strength and a hylian backpack to haul up a cliffside. 

 

Legend barked a soft laugh. “Me, maybe, if I gave it everything I’ve got. You though? Not a chance- and me carrying you still lands us somewhere between impossible and improbable.”

 

That was far too much for Wild to filter through in his dazed state, but it must have triggered something in that concussed head of his, because he started wriggling, doing something Legend couldn’t make sense of behind his back. He wasn’t in danger of falling, but it was odd nonetheless, and the older hero tried to crane his head back. “Wild, what the hell-”

 

“Energ..y elixir. Back ‘t camp,” Wild mumbled, still trying to get down, giving up when Legend didn’t bother to let him down just so he could collapse. Tugging the Veteran’s pink hair instead, he pointed a hand vaguely towards the forest. “Still got half, y’know?”

 

“Still have- Wild, there’s more of the energizing potion left? You didn’t drink it all?” He checked, wary whether he could trust the semi-delirious hero, but out of any other options. 

 

Wild breathed out a sad sound, patting Legend’s pectoral clumsily. “‘Ve drank a lot of potions, so many, Legend.” His head rolled forward, and he was distinctly frowning as his cheek smushed onto Legend’s shoulder. “Din’t wanna, make m’feel gross now… but, ‘m useless with… out…”

 

Legend jostled Wild’s legs a little, even as he turned and scurried down the stairs of the platform to check the camp as he did his best to console the other hero. “You’re not…. Hm. Look, just because you’re not doing great now, doesn’t mean you’re useless in general. No one’s at their best when injured or sick, and you’re both. Give yourself a break, yeah?”

 

A miserable sniffle from his back, and trembling fingers pressed harder against his skin, the reaction likely as much from the culmination of everything leading to this point than any honest self-consciousness on Wild’s part- Hylia knows the Champion’s more than earned the right to far more tears than he’d shed.  

 

For lack of any better options than to chase even a long shot lead, Legend opted to see if Wild’s memory was working. The trek to the camp was blessedly unremarkable, Legend taking care to steer clear of the trees and of the ocean octoroks’ attention, Wild quietly fading out again as the older hero consciously took rolling steps to smooth his stride. 

 

There was nothing there, of course, and he circled restlessly around it as Wild deliriously asked about the orb again, not bothering to answer before the injured hylian faded out again. Heart racing, he turned to head back to the cliffs before with a jolt, he realized that the camp was the wrong place to look- Wild hadn’t drunk the sneaky elixir here. 

 

He’d drunk it on their way to the hillside camp, right before they’d been ambushed by the bokos and the hinox. It took a little bit to find the spot in the sparse trees, but after a few minutes of circling around he was standing over a little scooped out rind of mango, still filled with about half of a stamina elixir, glittering and green.

 

“I’ll be damned,” he said in wonder, bending down to pick it up before pausing. He stared down at it in its flimsy, floppy-sided bowl, and then back the way he’d come, all sand and rocky terrain, sighing to the sky as he held Wild with both his hands. 

 

He laid Wild down, cautiously balancing the bowl on his stomach and gauging it’s steadiness if he tried to carry Wild bridal style, then contemplating doing piggyback, but with one hand holding it, before drawing up short a minute in. 

 

“I’m an idiot,” he stated flatly, staring blankly at the sand as he blindly reached to his hip and pulled out the bottle that had held the durian fruit, the many, many difficulties in finding the little containers having held him from tossing it away once the fruit inside were eaten. A quick rinse, and the potion was safely ensconced in the bottle, the bottle in his makeshift bag, and Wild back in his arms, blessedly oblivious. 

 

It was only once he was back at the foot of the cliff in his carefully selected spot of vertical slope, potion in hand as he propped Wild against the stone and preparing to try to rouse him, that he hesitated. Wild’s admission, the dangers of yet more potion in his already tenuous conditions, the fact that even this may not be enough to get them both up the cliff- he let it all wash over him, chest tightening as he breathed through it, before telling himself it was necessary, and letting that belief pull him through. 

 

They were close, and this was all he could do to get them to the finish. 

 

Wild woke slowly, but easily enough with some heckling, grumbling grumpily as he refused to open his eyes. “Stoppit,” he murmured plaintively, and if he was awake enough to talk he was awake enough to drink. 

 

Legend watched as the glittering green liquid was steadily drained, heart sinking at all the ways this could go wrong, whether the potion worked or not. Wild gasped, eyes popping open and pupils dilating visibly as the potion hit him, a hand coming up to clutch Legend’s arm as the younger hero’s breathing picked up in response to the near-adrenaline rush he’d been lent. 

 

Immediately, the tremble in his hands worsened, but the Champion didn’t seem to care, blinking rapidly as his gaze darted around and over Legend’s worried countenance, ears flicking wildly about. It culminated in a matter of about 15 seconds into Wild bending forward, nearly hyperventilating as he went deathly pale. 

 

Legend was immediately hovering at his side, heart hammering as he watched the other struggle under this potion in a way entirely different to the first half earlier, suddenly frightened as he called the other’s name, trying to grab his attention, because they only had so much time and no second chances after this, and Wild looked on the verge of passing out already.  

 

He steeled his heart and tucked it away, dragging the gasping, trembling hero to his feet. “Hey! Focus, Wild, come on,” he said, not unkindly. “Up we go, there we go,” he coaxed as the Champion managed to stand, swaying like a sapling in a storm but shivering with energy. 

 

Wide eyes blinked at him before darting around and up the cliffside Legend had him facing, Wild venturing an unsteady step towards it as realization dawned slowly over his face. “What? Are we climbing now?” The Champion rested a hand on the stone, still looking up it, nearly tipping over before Legend braced a hand on his shoulder blade. 

 

He eyed the younger hylian skeptically, reflecting far too late on how poorly thought out this plan was. “Do you think you can do it? You can’t even stand straight,” he said, more to himself than to the barely listening Wild.  

 

The Champion pursed his lips, turning back to Legend and cocking his head. “We can’t climb up, there’re monsters,” he said matter of factly, looking worriedly at Legend, of all people in the situation, eyes roving unhappily over what the Veteran knew to be superficial bruising and cuts and burns, all of which were no danger to him. 

 

Legend straightened his shoulders and stepped forward to stand face to face with Wild, looking up into his eyes to try to see if the pupils were still both the same size. Dilated, but that would be the potion running through his veins, and he could only hope it wasn’t obscuring any kind of indications of worsening brain injuries, if that was even possible. 

 

Finally, he waved a hand in disregard. “Not anymore, there aren’t. I checked and it’s clear, but I can’t get you up there on my own. If you go first-” 

 

But Wild was already turning, tilting dangerously as he clambered up the gravel slope leading to the foot of the cliff, slipping onto all fours as he scrabbled gracelessly up. Legend was right on his tail, suddenly afraid Wild would fall and injure his head worse, planting a hand against his rear just in time to arrest a backward slide, only barely holding his own footing in the hurry to catch Wild. 

 

The younger hero had the audacity to twist around and wink at him, sending him a roguish smirk before spinning forward and proceeding to fall and slip his way to the vertical face. He stood up, glancing for handholds before swaying, one knee collapsing and sending him face planting into the rock, only partially catching himself with wide-splayed hands as Legend skidded in behind him. 

 

Then in one unexpectedly swift flurry of movements, somehow, Wild was several feet above him. He’d managed to haul himself up on a small hold and step along a series of nooks in a matter of two seconds, the motion alarmingly quick and coordinated considering Legend had just watched the other hero fall face first into the cliff. Except there he stopped, gasping, head tipped forward to rest against the stone as his limbs visibly tremored. 

 

“You alright, Wild?!” Legend called, fluttering helplessly below the other as he waited to see if he would fall or make it. 

 

Thankfully, the Champion didn’t slip, though, tossing his head back to cheerily answer, “I’m fine!” before suddenly leaping upward along the smooth cliff, drawing a sharp cry from the Veteran before he caught at a nigh-invisible hold and swung upward again until he was snugged in the seam, arms and feet braced where two rock faces angled together . 

 

Legend stared agog up the cliff at him, a perfect view of the subtle handholds the other had used to propel himself upward still not serving to explain how . Wild still didn’t move, and the Vet suddenly jolted to follow while the more experienced climber’s path was still clear in his mind. The first few feet were easy enough, but then he reached the same vertical expanse Wild had leapt up, pressing his chest tight to the stone as he glowered up at the smooth rock before him. It was only from that angle  that the sun hit the stone just right, casting shadow over the miserably narrow snag of rock Wild must have caught onto, and another above it.

 

It was a whole lot farther for Legend’s shorter frame and comparatively abysmal skills then it had seemed when Wild was the one moving easily between them. Only full commitment would get him there, and too long a hesitation would end with him crashing down to the ground. 

 

Legend allowed himself a single groan of complaint before focusing. With a grunt of effort he swung himself into an upward jump along the cliff face, scrabbling to grab the little handhold before using his momentum and a foot braced against the rock to shove himself up until he was hanging right below the Champion.

 

Just in time, too, as the other’s visibly shuddering limbs slipped where he’d braced himself, only Legend’s hand planting up under his thigh giving him the leverage to catch himself, panting and shaking, as Legend did the same, fingers slipping on the rock far too small to be all that was holding him and Wild from falling. 

 

He strained to keep his fingertips clenched around the narrow lip of stone, feeling his hold slip dangerously as the other hero shifted above him. Legend managed to plant a foot tenuously, shoving both of them up in the hopes that Wild at least could get a better hold and not fall with Legend in a second or two once his hand slipped for good. 

 

“Wild-”

 

Then the weight he was supporting vanished with a shove that almost sent him toppling anyways had he not managed to cling with his newly freed hand to the vacated notch above him, Wild having lunged upwards again in a surprisingly mighty show of strength, catching the edge of the plateau above- 

 

And dangling there, feet scrabbling for a hold as his arms failed to pull him up, quivering violently before Legend was forced to direct his gaze to the rock as he rushed to follow and help. The older hero hauled himself into the seam as well, planting his feet on the slanted rock faces and standing himself up into range of Wild’s legs, getting kicked in the ear and arm before Wild finally managed to brace a foot upon his shoulder and shoved off, vanishing over the edge above. 

 

Watching for a moment just to make sure Wild wasn’t going to reappear, or do something stupid like faint over the side of the cliff, Legend inched up slowly, glancing down and up to gauge his position before lunging up and snagging the edge as well, hauling himself up with all the ease of an uninjured, not-terribly ill and concussed hero. 

 

He was harping on Wild before his head even cleared the cliff edge, glaring at the staggering, grinning hero moving determinedly and drunkenly through the ruin walls as he wobbled his way towards the abandoned monster camp. “Are you okay?” He demanded, legging up onto flat ground and standing in one smooth motion. “Gods, you almost fell twice , what the hell!”

 

Granted, he’d fallen off these very same ledges himself and walked away fine, but he was far sturdier than Wild was at the moment. He strode forward, caught between the urge to shake Wild and the need to hug him in celebration that they made it. 

 

The decision was neatly plucked from his hands, in the end. The Champion continued on, shoulder bouncing off a ruin wall as he waved a hand lazily back towards Legend, slurring a reassurance the Veteran couldn’t understand with Wild facing the other direction and a ways off, yet. He broke into a trot as Wild turned to smile at him, head lolling dangerously as he distantly said “‘S fun, yeah?,” in a breathless voice, color draining from his face and eyes weaving out of focus.

 

“Shit, Wild, sit down!” Legend shouted in a cracking voice, darting forward and hurtling over a low segment of crumbling wall and still too far and too late to catch the other as his strings were cut and he went down hard , head bouncing off the earth. 

 

Legend was beside Wild in the next second - too late, again, how are you always too slow ? - hands hovering over him for a moment before gently turning the unresponsive hero to his side and feeling at his head. Still swollen where he’d been injured before, and Wild himself well and truly out. It had likely been the potion timing out and not the injury that made him faint, but hitting his head again was concerning , especially considering the packed earth beneath them. 

 

Nothing he did this time could rouse the other, not pinching or grating his knuckles over Wild’s collarbone- nothing, the Champion succumbed to an unconscious state far deeper than a simple faint. Legend stared blankly down at him for a long moment before slowly turning to stare furiously at the pedestal, right there, solidly blocked by an immovable stone. 

 

Well, not immovable, though, was it?

 

The slate was the easiest option, but not the only one. Explosives had already served to clear junk from the other platform, and oh, would you look at that, right there: a bright red barrel, just waiting to save the day. Legend’s shoulders slumped in relief, eyes closing in relief as he tipped his head back, a “Thank Hylia” slipping from his lips without thought. 

 

That, of course, was the exact moment that the skies -having slowly clouded over and grown heavy with rain while he was distracted - opened up and let out a downpour all over the only other way out. 

 

--------------------------------------------

 

Despite Legend’s wildly desperate hopes and screamed obscenity at the clouds above, his fears were confirmed: the fire arrows would not ignite in the rain, and the soaked barrel -courtesy of the healthy downpour currently falling full force over them- bounced any spark off of it, not that he could get one going on a makeshift fuse with the water having permeated everything in the first minute. Even running, he hadn’t been fast enough to get the barrel under the stone before it was too wet to explode, leaving him with no options but to wait for Wild to wake and unlock the Sheikah slate, or for everything to dry out once more. 

 

He very much hoped Wild wasn’t out long enough for the latter. 

 

They were currently both sheltered under one of the monsters’ platforms, the only kind of overhead cover available, and a shitty one at that with its tall, open sides. He was curled around Wild, clutching tight to the injured hero and whirling between panic and helpless anger, left with nothing to do but wait. 

 

It was agony. Nothing but the pale, motionless hylian in his arms, skin far too chilled to be further exposed to the rain all around them. Legend closed his eyes to the sight and found it worse, the wind and rain and water over his skin throwing him right back to that boat on the ocean. 

 

He was left staring blankly at the glowing pedestal, shaking from far more than the rain as he feared the past and present alike.

 

The downpour didn’t last long, though the clouds remained, leaving the two bare-skinned hylians shivering in the sea-breezed damp. He moved Wild and the orb nearer to the platform as soon as it became clear the rain was over, anxious that he not risk the other slipping unconscious again before freeing the last pedestal. The grass swayed around him in the ocean breeze, damp, and a lilting laugh heralded her failed attempt to sneak up on him, yet to succeed even once. She flopped dramatically onto his lap, bemoaning her defeat against what she joked were unfairly honed heroic senses, Link, love-

 

His fingers clawed into his leg, and he was here , not there, the motionless figure laying on his lap not his beloved, though dear nonetheless. 

 

A little longer, that’s all. Wild will wake up, he will , and they’ll escape the island… together…

 

Legend jolted violently as he realized he’d unconsciously been humming the song of awakening. Something like a sob escaped him, and he curled helplessly over Wild, sinking into the soulbond between them as the only anchor he had; echoing and unresponsive as it was with the other hero soundly unconscious, he was still alive, and reassuring solely in his presence. 

 

Too cold, though, and the fucking rain wasn’t helping. He gently drew the other’s back up against his chest to maximize the body heat he could share, wrapping his arms around Wild as he pulled his legs up to keep more heat in as well

 

Time dragged by agonally, Legend wavering between memory and awareness as Wild remained still but for his trembling, breathing shallowly. Finally, though, his soul-bound’s mind flickered, the shadowed haze swirling as the younger hero drew slowly awake 

 

“Wild?” Legend whispered, amethyst eyes clearing slightly as the hylian he had hugged to his chest stirred with a thin keen. There was no answer, but the hand curled limply in his own flexed weakly, ribcage expanding in his arms as the waking hero inhaled deeply. He scrambled immediately for the slate, placing it across Wild’s legs and resting the Champion’s lax hand atop its blank screen. 

 

“Wild, you need to unlock the slate, like you did before,” he coaxed, voice shaking, biting back his dismay as the other only breathed unsteadily, a small, pained sound on every exhale. The older hero buried his face in the junction of Wild’s neck, swallowing heavily before resting his hand over Wild’s, doing his best to rouse the other’s sluggish mind, the distant dark stillness of a subterranean lake rippling and empty of direction as he tried to spark awareness. 

 

“Link, I need you, please,” Legend pleaded, and that at last drew a flicker and a questioning hum. He pressed their hands to the slate, sparking it awake with a magical prod before drawing away, leaving Wild alone before the proffered keyhole, the slate asking who was to use it?

 

Its energy glided along Wild’s hand, but the Champion’s magic was wavering and unstable, shapeless and unfocused, and the slate simply held there, waiting. 

 

A moment passed, and Legend let his panic and pleading flood their connection, a wretched, “ Please, ” tearing itself from his chest. The Champion’s eyes opened, lips turning down into the barest hint of a frown, before slowly his magic shifted, falling out of its knot in bits but weaving back together each time, the clumsy, faltering process agonizing to watch when he’d seen Wild do it near effortlessly before. 

 

The magic paused periodically, each time longer than the last, and it took Legend a long time to realize that Wild was trying to see if he’d unlocked it yet, nearly too far gone to know what needed to be presented. Blue eyes fluttered shut, the injured hylian’s carefully molded magic melting gradually out of shape, before a smooth, twirling twist akin to spinning a wet towel into a whip curled the fraying tangle into what was, for a moment, a perfect looping presentation of Wild’s soul. 

 

The lock unfurled and the slate opened, and Wild’s magic sank back into his skin with terrifying viscosity, sluggish and thick and pooling where before it had whirled with quiet playfulness. A cold sweat beaded his brow, his breathing jagged and hitching. 

 

Legend kept Wild’s limp hand pressed to the slate, tried for himself to bring the rune to life only to be soundly rebuffed, the device resolutely ignoring his interference as it waited for its owner’s command. 

 

A hysterical sob escaped him, shaking wildly as he held the delirious hero upright, grasping for the last remaining threads of patience he still had through the drowning sense of helplessness. 

 

“Wild.” His voice broke on the first try, quiet and shattered as he called for the unresponsive hero yet again, furious that he had to depend on the injured, ill, dying hylian, healthy and perfectly useless despite it in the face of this accursed, insurmountable challenge. 

 

“Link,” he tried instead, lilting a little as sorrow tainted his attempt to soften his voice. “We need the rune to move the stone.” He shifted Wild to lay sideways along his lap, throat tightening at the limp loll of the Wild’s head as he let himself be moved, eyes half-lidded and gazing emptily in Legend’s direction. “Can you do that?” He said futilely, feeling as if he was speaking to empty air for all the attention it seemed to earn him. 

 

But Wild was turned to him, somehow, even as his mind spun useless in on itself. He gazed at Legend before lolling his head forward to stare down at the slate, tapping uncertainly at it as he lost the objective once more. 

 

Legend nestled into the bond, steadying the other’s warping consciousness as best he could. 

 

“Wild? You need a rune. Do you know where the runes are?” His voice was low, tone leading. The Champion blinked limpidly, tapping mindlessly at the slate before glancing back up at him, clearly lost. Legend pursed his lips, tucking away the fear at Wild’s difficulty with the simple task. “Where on the slate?”

 

Wild’s eyes drew back into focus. “What?” He said vacuously, already a blank slate once more. 

 

Legend squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his jaw hard enough to hurt, Wild was only getting worse ; he needed help, treatment, care that Legend couldn’t provide until Wild managed this, broken brain or not. 

 

He would, too;  Legend would make sure of it. The older hylian gently guided the other hero to face the slab, voice heartbreakingly soft as he explained, “We need to move that stone.”

 

Wild sluggishly brightened, nearly moving his hand off the slate before realizing it was pinned there, pausing for a moment -just long enough for Legend to tighten up in fear he’d already faded out again- before flicking carelessly to another screen. 

 

And back again, movements less sure as he hesitated, face falling lax and then confused. 

 

Legend blinked back the tears, and gently, so gently, tilted Wild’s chin up to look at the stone again, lips opening to repeat the process again, and again, however many tries it took for his injured soulmate to succeed-

 

But Wild regrouped more easily, this time, selecting an icon with a clumsy tap. The slate asked for verification once more, and Wild, loopy and mindless and so delirious as to be running on little more than instinct, twirled his strained, struggling magic.

 

The slate recognized the Champion, and the rune activated, a patchwork  of energy overlay marking out options. Wild stared off for a moment, before twitching and poking at the stone, Legend very, very carefully not interfering for fear of ruining the process, even if the slow, wavering stretch of Wild’s strained magic was painful to witness.

 

A bad sign- Magical exhaustion was dangerous, and easily deadly, and very, very obviously at least part of what was plaguing Wild at this point.  

 

Legend clenched his eyes shut, the tears finally falling. He shouldn’t have given Wild the last potion. 

 

He’d had no choice- damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t, left only to weigh out which risk was worth taking.

 

The rune activated, draining even more of Wild’s already strained magic, and in his lap the Champion made a weak motion towards the highlighted stone-

 

 ” Stasis magnifies applied force and exerts it once the timer runs out -”

 

In one smooth motion Legend scooped Wild from his lap and leapt forward, hammering the stone with the sword viciously, with every ounce of frustration and rage and fear he’d been victim to for the last day. The first strike presented directionality, and the second as he shifted his angle altered it accordingly; if it was to move, this must be where it would go after the time-keeping element hit zero. 

 

The stone only absorbed so much force, but he continued raining blows down upon it until the ragged blade broke under the onslaught. He gasped and shook and glared wildly at it, edging back begrudgingly as it suddenly timed out and shot off with alarming velocity, the whole damn thing flying into the distance to clatter against the other hill’s side with a resounding crash.

 

Legend was already moving, shoving the orb roughly into its slot and watching with wide eyes at it shifted color, the wrongness to the air that had been tormenting him with memories and doubt suddenly shifting and sliding away as a disembodied voice congratulated them, static occluding the message partway through as he stood witness, fearful as the speech gave way to little more than electrical misfiring before magic flooded his senses, painful and freeing all at once. 

 

He staggered, reeling and breathless, but it was gone just as fast as it had overwhelmed him, leaving him clad once more in his enchanted armor, items equipped and his own sword resting faithfully at his hip. 

 

Legend gasped, hand flying to his bag as he twisted around, wide, purple eyes landing on Wild’s slumped form. He dove to his knees beside the other, growling as he turned and dug his other hand into his bag too, hauling out a fairy and plopping her from her bottle with little fanfare. 

 

She twisted in midair like a cat and landed lightly upon Wild’s chest, bending to touch him for a moment before flitting into the air and looping a circle around him, chiming furiously as she dusted sparkling motes over his hair. Under her attention some color came back to his face, drawing him away from the corpse-like pallor that had been haunting his gaunt cheeks to something that was merely ghostly.  

 

Wild stirred under the rain of fairy magic, smiling mellowly up at his little healer as she worked furiously and scolded him, lifting a trembling hand to let her alight upon it. She was discontent as he continued to shake, bending and letting another wave of fairy magic swell from her, to no avail. 

 

The Champion’s smile grew sad, and he thanked her softly regardless. She whirled into a determined spiral over his form, finally forced to admit defeat as Wild continued to lay upon the ground, weak and pale but improved, even if not enough to meet her standards. 

 

Legend offered her a bit of dried fruit from his bag, which she accepted hesitantly. A pause, and then she began looping around him instead, patching up his own set of bruises and minor injuries as if she felt she hadn’t done her job well enough with Wild to earn a thank you gift. 

 

He understood that kind of regret more than he’d care to admit. 

 

Finally, she flew up higher, visibly frustrated as she paused above them, before darting off. Wild watched her go, but Legend was too busy frowning down at him, his condition much harder to gauge now that his body was wholly covered up by armor save for his face and hands. The clothes couldn’t hide how ill he was completely, though, the fabric clearly too loose on him now, fingers thin and bony and cheekbones too sharp. 

 

“How do you still look like shit after a fairy healed you?” Legend said tightly, a rhetorical question that he full well knew the answer to now- after all, fairies couldn’t help with magical exhaustion. “Nevermind, it doesn’t matter. We need to get you back to Hyrule, maybe he can help.”

 

The Traveler had more experience with magical ailments than even Legend did, a result of having a reckless streak to match his monstrous magic reserves and plenty of heroes who got injured all too often under his watch. Based on Wild and his world’s apparent ignorance towards the arcane arts, Hyrule would be their best bet for treatment. At the very least, he’d have a better idea of if a green potion would help at this stage or simply make things worse.

 

“I doubt it, since he hasn’t been able to do anything before” Wild said calmly as he sat up slowly, giving a wry, tired grin as he fiddled with his slate. His magic was still weak but easily unlocked the item, apparently infinitely easier to manipulate now that he wasn’t suffering from a crippling head injury.

 

Legend sent him a sharp frown, very much disliking the implications for Wild’s continued well being if Hyrule truly hadn’t been able to help before, when the Champion had very clearly worsened since then. “That’s not going to stop him,” he pointed out flatly. “And if you think any of us are going to let you go back out again like this then you’re worse off than you seem.” 

 

Wild stayed quiet, not bothering to argue the point. Legend shook his head at the non-committal reaction, glancing over the ocean view he wouldn’t be missing one bit. “It’ll be fine. Even if you cannot go, we still can. It’ll be harder, take longer than your shortcut teleportation, but better that then you being done in by one potion too many, or a haphazard spell wiping out the last of your magic. We’re not so lazy that we can’t put in extra work when needed.” 

 

Legend’s frown deepened when Wild gave no reply, instead continuing to tap around on his slate, expression uneasy and shoulders tense. “Wild? What’s wrong?” He asked, but the younger hylian was wholly distracted, brows furrowing even further. 

 

Legend shifted closer, looking down at the screen as he prodded, “Nothing that’s going to keep us stuck here, right?” It was said lightly, to reassure himself that certainly wasn’t the case, not when they were seemingly finally free to go, but the other hero was quiet, wasn’t assuring him of anything. The small, hesitant smile dropped off Legend’s face, tone dropping low and wary as the unease in the other’s mind seeped through their bond. “Wild?”

 

On the screen lay a map, all glowing dots and lines, nothing there to warrant the fear growing in the younger hero’s eyes as he stared down at it, unseeing. “Wild!” He said more sharply, reaching out to touch his hand and finally snapping the Champion out of whatever daze he’d dropped into. 

 

“I’m listening,” Wild said reflexively, puffing up defensively.

 

“Good,” Legend humored with affected cheer, eyes narrowed. “Then you agree, that we’re just going to have to do it the hard way,” he said sweetly, purposely phrasing it vaguely.

 

Wild gave a short, nervous laugh, his smile wobbling before falling completely as he realized he’d definitely missed something while not paying attention. “The … hard way?” 

 

Legend waved Wild’s nervous doubt away. “Don’t worry, it’s the hard way for us, the easy way for you. You-” he pointed right at the Champion, whose eyes near crossed to follow the finger thrust at his face, “- are going to sit back in the village and heal up, and we’re going to go and fetch the rest of the Chain the old way; on foot, the way we did before your nifty, poisonous slate came into play.” 

 

A myriad of emotions floods Wild’s face, reflected distantly in the soulbond- guilt, shame, dread, before they were all suddenly muted from their connection. It was the first attempt he’d seen yet of the Champion actively trying to hide something from him, even if he suspected it wasn’t a conscious effort. From the way Wild’s face had also closed off, it was more of a side effect of him opting to ignore the emotions on his part, and Legend had an idea of what thoughts could be driving the turmoil. 

 

Self-reproach over needing help, and being unable to help the others; in short, a perceived failure to be the hero he thought he needed to be.

 

An utterly stupid thought, completely ridiculous, and exactly how Legend himself would feel if their roles were reversed. Wild had arrived on this island claiming the title with surprising veracity, and even then he’d been weary and worn and adamant of his duties despite his sad condition. It had long deteriorated since then, to the point of something very dangerous and clearly unfit for further rescues, even if the others were still in danger.   

 

From an outsider’s perspective, the fact that Wild couldn’t accept his own inability to continue -both for his sake and for the sake of him not being of any help if he worsened again- only drove home how utterly unfit he was to go on in the first place, whether it was illness or fixation that was keeping him from seeing reason. 

 

From a fellow hero’s perspective, Legend understood completely, knew what it was to throw aside his own health for another's, knowing he was hardier and tougher and used to it. 

 

But this wasn’t him they were talking about, and he wasn’t about to let Wild run off and get himself killed just because he tried too hard to be Hylia’s hero. Twilight and Time would be fine if they’d already lasted this long- they could wait longer yet. 

 

(Even if they couldn’t, they’d never want the cost of their survival to be another young hero, he knew.)

 

Wild breathed in a deep, slow breath, seconds dragging by before his shoulders slumped before and he sent a weak smile towards Legend. “Rest sounds good.” Resigned, and sad, but his acquiescence released a knot of stress from Legend’s chest. The younger hero would finally get the care and treatment Legend had been fighting for this whole time, and he could stop worrying that any further mishap was finally going to end up with Wild dead. 

 

“You’ll feel better once you take the time to recover,” he assured the other. “We can take it from here; you’ve done more than enough on your own.” Far too much, in fact, and he couldn’t wait to get the full story from the others so he knew who in this whole mess to chew out. 

 

Wild didn’t answer, seeming lost in his thoughts and detached in a way that Legend had hoped was due to the concussion, displeased he’d been proven wrong by the dazedness still afflicting the other hero after the fairy’s healing.

 

Seeming oblivious to Legend’s unease, Wild perked up slightly, tacking on a fake smile and proffering an elbow. “Hold my arm, or my hand. You only need to be touching me.” 

 

Just like that, they were ready to go, it seemed. Legend firmly gripped his arm, gaze sharpening as Wild grew visibly anxious as he prepped the teleport function, his respiration picking up as he slowly tensed under the Veteran’s palm. An easy verification, and the start of the magic exchange triggered a series of glowing lines to weave into existence around them. Wild collapsed with a whimper as the slate drew from him, and Legend caught him, both of them slowly being taken apart by the spell. The weaving lights bound up around the pair and sank into them as more power was dragged from Wild. 

 

More than he had to give, Legend suddenly feared as the Champion’s head lolled, and he  quickly inserted his own magic into the stream of energy fueling their transport. The slate accepted it without any hesitation, apparently happy to let any passengers fuel its function so long as its owner instigated the action.

 

He slipped into Wild’s place as the power source, gently ensconcing the other hero’s magic with a layer of his own, letting it flow from his core to maintain the barrier and keep Wild’s fluttering magic untouched. He’d cut it off altogether from the other, but was wary of interrupting the transport now that it was well underway.

 

Legend felt himself grow weaker as the pull on his magic continued, his physical form all but gone up in brightness, his own low reserves sputtering dangerously, but better…

 

The draw began to ease up gradually as they were broken down completely, giving one more hungry tug as the pair dissolved wholly into light. Legend forced more energy from himself, tucking Wild’s magic under his own fading film of power. 

 

Better him than-

 

It was hard to say whether it was the lights that took his consciousness or the magic loss, in the end. 

 

---------------------------------------------------

 

Legend woke up to insistent tapping on his cheeks, draped over someone’s lap- no, over Wars’ lap, because he’d recognize that voice everywhere, and that particular brand of annoying. 

 

Would always recognize the boots layered in dust - weight of unseen eyes watching- weaving easily through a crowd and blinding sunspot dazzle of watching lightning strike- steam warming hand around a hot drink as two familiar souls pressed up against his, reassuring and desperately missed. 

 

Quieter, distant and blurred, was Wild, too: cool confidence in the face of bad odds-blood-smeared grin- warily gauging a friendly smile’s sincerity .

 

They’d made it, both of them in one piece, if missing a decent chunk of magic between the two of them.

 

Warriors tugged insistently at his hair with gentle playfulness, and Legend swatted blindly at him, letting his hand remain on the Captain’s arm and squeezing it just to reassure himself of its solidity. Warm wetness tried to gather under his lashes, and he determinedly squeezed them clear as Warriors’ hold shifted to rest a hand over his and tangle their fingers together. 

 

After so long spent tormenting himself with doubt, Legend finally let himself believe it was real, let himself be comforted by his friend, even as the menace jostled his legs under Legend’s head as he bent closer in concern.  

 

“‘M up, cut it out,” he grumbled before the Captain could do anything more drastic, opening one eye to glare up at the other as he became abruptly aware of the price to pay for dumping most of the magic he had left into Wild’s mysterious slate. His head throbbed wickedly, dizziness and weakness both plaguing him without mercy, despite the fact that he was laying down and not moving. 

 

Well, if he was going to be miserable anyway, may as well get something done in the meantime. 

 

He pushed himself up, elbow slipping and saved from jabbing Warriors in a sensitive place only by a quick catch on the other’s part, hoisting him up and steadying him as he tried to hide exactly how close to passing out again he was at the change in altitude. 

 

“You alright there, Ledge? You need to lay back down? You’re not hurt anywhere, are you?” The Captain rattled off, hands pressing over him worriedly. 

 

He looked almost relieved as Legend flung them off with a huff. “I’m fine, just used too much magic. Wild’s the one who’s in trouble, all alone and half dead when he arrived, and then everything went to hell in a handbasket,” he snarled. 

 

Warriors’ face grew grimmer as Legend spoke, the worry not leaving at all as his gaze shifted from Legend’s face to somewhere past his shoulder. “You too? We were hoping this one would be easier than the rest,” the Captain said in dismay, missing the enraged look spreading across Legend’s face. “Hylia knows he wasn’t doing good-”

 

“You let him just go off alone? In that shape?! What were you thinking? He was barely conscious when he arrived, and maybe if even one of you had been there with us he wouldn’t have almost died three times over!” He was shouting by the end of it despite how his own voice seared through his skull, betrayed and unable to comprehend the stupidity and uncharacteristic disregard for a fellow hero, another piece of their shared soul. 

How could they have let this happen? 

 

Warm hands cupped his cheeks, Warriors commanding his attention with calm blue eyes,  and a calmer voice, not shouting but firm all the same. “Hey, look at me, yeah? It’s alright, he’s okay.”

 

“I know that, I’m the one who got him off the shitty island you all left him on. I’m the one who had to help him through the potion overdose, who had to get him breathing again twice over after monsters, and drowning, who had to ask him to drink more potions because that was the only way off!”

 

Warriors’  eyes looked pained, his fingers tightening where they were tucked into petal pink hair. “Ledge, I-”

 

“No!” He shouted, angry tears welling in his eyes as he reached up and gripped Warriors’ wrists, all the stress of his time separated from the others bleeding out all at once, unable to stop , because- “What did you do for him, past letting him run off to be killed trying to save heroes who didn’t need help ?” He cried furiously. 

 

“I know, Legend, stop shouting!” The Captain commanded sharply, softening as Legend fell quiet. “Hylia’s sake, you thought we’d let him leave looking like this?”

 

“But you did, though, didn’t you?” Legend said quietly, still making no move to pull away, angry and confused and unspeakably glad to be with the others again, with Warriors’ steadfast presence once more nestled up in his mind.

 

Sky’s swooping stomach in an airborne dive flared too, guilty even as he reprimanded them sternly in a low voice. “Both of you be quiet, if he had a head injury like Legend said he’s got to have a migraine by now; the shrines were already giving him terrible headaches.” 

 

Legend and Warriors pulled apart, then, the Captain’s hand falling briefly to squeeze the Veteran’s shoulder before standing and moving over to the other pair of hylians. 

 

“I’m f’ne,” Wild argued weakly from where he was cradled limply in Sky’s arms, the Chosen Hero’s eyes blazing with protective fury as he cuddled the smaller hylian gently to his chest. Warriors wasted no time checking that Wild wasn’t going to immediately die, and Legend began working his way to his feet, trying to move slowly enough not to give himself away by staggering or fainting. 

 

The light-headedness took a minute to fade, but by the time Sky had Wild hoisted in his arms and Warriors was moving to his side, Legend was feeling steady enough to ward the Captain off with narrowed eyes and bared teeth. He could use a green potion and some rest, for sure, but as he had no intention of using any more magic until his stores had recovered, his current situation wasn’t so dire as to warrant being carried by a smug Captain.

 

Warriors put his hands up, a small smile peeking through the still-tense lines of his face. “Alright, but don’t act as if nothing’s wrong. Once Hyrule’s got Wild taken care of, you’re going to get an earful yourself.”

 

“I’d get an earful whether I’d done anything to deserve it or not- if you can even call the gentle disappointment an ‘earful’ anyways,” Legend said with a hopeless tilt of his eyes towards the sky. 

 

“Everyone knows that Hyrule’s disappointment is worse than any true dressing down for you, Ledge, you’re not fooling anyone.” Legend grumbled in weak defense of himself, and the last veneer of light-heartedness faded from Wars’ face. “What happened, Vet? You’re not usually so quick to anger, and Wild…”

 

“It was an island that took all our gear- clothes, weapons, everything, except Wild’s slate. Three pedestals, three orbs to collect and put in place. I had one set done and most of the monsters cleared when that blood moon hit and brought them all back infected.” Legend grimaced, as he recalled the dark, disgusting press of Malice, and Warriors’ face twisted in upset. 

 

“Yeah, it wasn’t good here, either. No monsters, but Four and ‘Rule didn’t deal well with the magic, from what I heard.” 

 

Legend was quiet, both of them walking along as Wild looked back suspiciously from over Sky’s shoulder as he wondered exactly how much Warriors was glossing over; then again, so was he, wasn’t he?

 

“It was bad,” he admitted softly. “The blood moon, but also… one of my previous adventures was on an island, and it didn’t end so well. It… wasn’t a good place for me to be stuck alone.” And it was the closest thing to an apology he would offer for the tension he could still feel coiled within, and the confrontation still waiting with the rest of the Chain over why Wild had ever been left to retrieve him alone. 

 

“Ledge, I- I wish we’d been…” there to help , probably, and gods, but so did Legend. Both from the start, and with Wild’s arrival, and every single thing that had gone wrong after that. But they hadn’t been there, and now Legend had even more memories of an island to haunt him if he dropped his guard.

 

“Not now,” he bit out, because this wasn’t the time for the full story and he needed it all to know how angry to be, but Wars’ jaw clenched as guilt radiated off of him, tipping his head in acceptance. “Wild arrived, and was nearly killed when monsters unexpectedly snuck up while I was foraging for a potion he needed. Then he was almost killed by a giant monster, several times, and blown up and drowned and somewhere in there suffered a dangerous concussion, all culminating in a magically drained, potion-ridden sick hylian who barely made it back here at all, nonetheless alive.” 

 

“Bad situation indeed,” the Captain acknowledged grimly, both of their gazes pinned worriedly on the drooping form in Sky’s arms ahead. “Injuries to look out for?”

 

“Once we got the puzzle solved, I used a fairy on him. He’d been strangled, drowned, concussed, his ribs took a beating. She helped with all that, but couldn’t touch the magical exhaustion or the potion overdose, which is a guess, but all the symptoms line up.”

 

“Shit,” Warriors whispered, brows creasing in blatant concern. Dark blue eyes darted to the side, scanning Legend over once more. “What about you, though? Something tells me you weren’t in the thick of all that and coming out unscathed.”

 

So little faith, he’d normally have mocked, but he couldn’t manage it, now. Not with the guilt sitting heavy in his chest. “I was barely hurt at all, and nowhere near as bad as Wild. Some of it was luck, but most of it was just by virtue of not being semi-conscious and half-dead from the start.”

 

He should have done more, even if he didn’t know where or how he could have. Wild had taken the lion’s share of the damage, and Legend knew that if he’d been more careful, he could have saved the younger hero some of it. 

 

Except he’d never been overly careful, only cautious where he judged it necessary. And once the monsters knew they were there, caution had gone out the window. 

 

Sky stopped, curling his head towards Wild, voice raised in concern. “It’s alright, Wild, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Warriors darted forward, running his hands along Wild’s neck and chest as he shook, mind spinning in conflicting emotions Legend couldn’t parse. 

 

Wild didn’t react to his touch, gaze distant as he let out a soft laugh, nothing of happiness in the sound. 

 

“Wild, what’s wrong? What’s happening?” Sky pleaded, clear blue eyes upset. 

 

Legend fretted nearby, fighting not to crowd them as he tried to get Wild’s gaze to settle on him instead of staring blindly right on through. “Is he okay? Wild, can you hear me?”

 

“Pick him up! We need to get him to Hyrule!” Warriors barked, and they all jolted to obey, only for Wild to gag and jerk out of Sky’s arms. They hovered, worried, and Legend’s frayed magic caught the barest hint-

 

The slate, asking for verification. He was lunging even as Wild answered, and gods, but Legend never thought he’d miss seeing the Champion struggle so long to provide the correct shape of magic, but here, seeing the lights spark up around the other even as Sky’s arms closed around Wild’s waist and Warriors grasped the younger hero’s wrist-

 

Dizzy, Legend nearly fell over, crumpling as the magic turned wrong around Wild, something like a scream escaping him as he realized the transport -he’s leaving he’s going he’ll die like this - was being twisted and corrupted the same way the island’s aura had been. He grabbed the slate, trying to break the connection physically before throwing his weary magic at it insead, trying to sever the magic draining steadily from Wild to the malfunctioning, dangerous device. 

 

It didn’t work, but the slate did eat Legend’s magic all the same. He let it, unable to stop Wild from leaving but at least able to give him every advantage he could for whatever awaited the other, not willing to let the Champion waste a single unnecessary drop of energy here when it could save his life later. 

 

Legend had small reserves, though, already heavily depleted, and the slate was hungry . In a matter of moments he was slumped to the ground as his vision wavered, hand slipping from Wild’s even as the jagged, painful slashes of electricity broke the Champion apart from his physical form.

 

A broken keen was all Legend’s breathless lungs could manage, the slate snatching one last knot of magic from his chest and leaving him empty there on the footpath. 

 

Even as his own cry faded from his lips, the screaming continued as he passed out.

Notes:

Legend, behind the scenes: Warriors was getting a little /chummy/. When people get too chummy with me, I like to call them by the wrong name to let them know I don’t really care about them.

Warriors, 5 minutes earlier: *slapping Legend on the back* good one, Ledge!
Legend: Thank you, Waffles

 

A plan falls through:
Warriors: oh shit regroup everybody new plan-
Wild: that didn’t work wing it JUST WING IT
Legend: IT’S MY TIME TO SHINE

Me: “Legend kicked-” oh right, his foot that he hurt at the very start of this whole thing
Legend: fuckiiiiiiing ow, again

Legend, drowning in bokoblins: where the fuck are they all COMING FROM

Legend: *spends entire island venture cursing the Goddess*
Hylia: yeah? Okay then fuck you too *stirs up a storm*
Legend, ten minutes later: *genuinely thanks Hylia for a stroke of good fortune for the first time in years*
Hylia: oh shit wait *rain falls* wait STOP

Credit for Legend’s side of Sky’s soulbond goes to waterspouts, thank you as always for the fantastic imagery, and I’m only sorry that I couldn’t use more without ending up with a full paragraph of perfect vibe-checks for our sky-born sweetheart~

This chapter is very late by virtue of many factors, several of which were: COVID (minor, but god am I incapable of writing if there's a single bodily malady going on), the freaking length of the thing b/c I refused to split it, good old fashioned procrastination, holidays, and then the family holidays that I got pushed back by getting COVID. It was a doozy, but it's done now and we can at last keep this train a chuggin'~

(pspspspsp I counted, all monsters in monster camps on the island should actually be accounted for, if I did it all according to my poorly sketched out notes. So if there seems like a LOT of bokos, that’s because there are actually just that many flippin ‘blins on the island; same goes for the explosive barrels. There’s just loads of them there on the island, I used zero creative liberty on that despite how it feels lol. If you’re unfamiliar with Koholint island and my lacking descriptions didn’t give you a good idea of the layout, there’s a link to a video on the in game quest in the previous chapter. I’m so sorry, I’m too lazy to link it again.)

Anyways, so there’s Legend- he mostly picks up strong emotions through his soulbond, and also tends to use it as a kind of radar to get a directional ping on the other heroes; he can stretch his range by narrowing the field in that direction. And so far as magic goes, yeah, Legend wasted way more energy than he needed to on the initial nearly-failed elixir. Also, just to cover my ass, I do indeed have Legend purposefully interchanging ‘potion’ and ‘elixir’; he understands there’s a difference, but doesn’t care enough to keep careful watch over his terms. It’s also handy for me so far as switching up vocabulary, lol

For the record, he isn’t able to feel how much magic Wild has left, only the… behavior of it, moreso. When it’s dangerously low, and I’m talking like brink of death, then it’s very obvious, but everything up until that point is on a sliding scale of its normal behavior, which he’s unfamiliar with, so the sluggish, slow looping isn’t as alarming as it would be if he knew its regular patterns and speed, for lack of other adjectives for a noncorporeal material.

If you’re paying very close attention to how the dialogue matches up, you’ll be noticing that in the latter half of the chapter there’s some extra dialogue, even outside of the additional scenes. Wild’s memory is a bit sketchy with his concussion, so these are just the moments/ bits of conversation that kind of got lost to the void of such an injury. I had always intended there to be parts that he was technically present for, but effectively absent during.

And yeah, I made Legend cry a few times here. The guy’s on the brink of a breakdown, so stressed out that his emotions are all over the dang board. Right now relief and fear are hitting harder than ever, and I just couldn’t picture him so overwrought and still caring one whit about his composure. He’s naturally more dramatic and emotional (ly illiterate in spite of it), very much cutting loose on his walled off tendencies around those he’s close to. Legend’s already admitted defeat to all members of the Chain, and after this whole ordeal Wild will be well on his way to the inner circle as well. I also found myself using SO much more italics for him than any of the others- he’s got such a sassy, heavily emphasized way of speaking in my mind.

Love him to bits.

Chapter 13: Time for a Key Change

Summary:

While all the other heroes have been struggling to get anywhere at all, Twilight’s stressed, blessed, and dozens of miles into the map with no fight in sight.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Animal Harm, Blood/Violence

Time Until Wild Contact: Not in this chapter, not yet~
Chapter Spans: 1 Day, 20 hours or so
Follow the Lights Equivalent: None, hasn’t yet hit Chapter 12

Twilight has no idea how he got here. 

 

Or, well, he does , but seeing as the portals usually don’t drop him all on his lonesome atop a strange, violently charged plinth, the mystery still stands. One second he was stepping into the average disconcerting tear in space time continuum, and the next, he’s in a cave hopping away yelping from the electrical zap of the stone beneath him, the Chain nowhere in sight.

 

It was downright weird , and he didn’t like it one bit.

 

Though so far as caves went, it could be worse. This wasn’t dark and dank and dreary like the caves he’d wandered before, but dry and open and lit by the glowing construction behind him and the hole opening to the sky before him, where it seemed to be raining at the moment.  Twilight checked his surroundings -and the ceiling, always and especially the ceiling too- but found no sign of anything dangerous, for whatever a harmless appearance was worth. Curious past his caution, he moved towards the opening outside, looking out over the rainy expanse beyond. 

 

It was less than he’d hoped for; a bare, 60 meter drop ending in boulders strewn at the foot, the view to his left nothing more than the rising side of the mountain he must be sequestered in. The ground below was open field, but straight ahead he could see a giant fissure that ran to the right as far as he could see. On the field this side of the crack in the earth he could make out a line of landmarks stretching to the right; an abandoned monster camp, a large set of what seemed to be ruins, and far, far off amidst some pines a tall, odd structure. 

 

He squinted through the murk of rain, leaning out around the edge of the opening. 

 

A horse? A terrifying one, though. 

 

But no sign of the other heroes, and a subtle bunch they were not, especially upon leaving a portal to anything but mortal peril. It was often marked by Four collapsing or outright fainting to everyone’s ongoing and loudly exclaimed alarm and dismay, Legend hovering around Hyrule’s periphery and snarling at anyone who seemed liable to stress the Traveler who tried so hard to hide how poorly he fared through the portals as well. The lot of heroes bandied about guesses or denials as to whose Hyrule they were in, Time and Warriors calling for quiet and calm as they tried to bring order to the whole chaotic mess. 

 

There was none of that, though. Only the smooth whisper of rainfall and the buzzing crackle of the glowing stone hut behind him. Twilight leaned back on his heels with a frown, drawing back inside the opening until he was clear of the mist of rain and wind blowing in through the entrance.  

 

Their group separated through the portal, then, and Twilight wasn’t overly fond of the fact that their only mode of transport was proving to be glitchy, nor of the idea that several of their more hazardously curious members could be left alone to find what trouble they may. It was an inevitability when you were a hero of courage, and there was the small reassurance in how he knew they were each competent enough to handle plenty of complications... 

 

Usually. 

 

Yeah, no, he needed to find them, ASAP- and that meant getting out of this weird cave. 

 

Twilight did his due diligence, though, in case he’d been plopped here for a reason; scoping around the earthen chamber and scrambling up the pedestal to brave the zapping as he examined the empty inside of the stone cone and hurriedly placed his hand on the expectant slab. His hopes were dashed when his touch did nothing but get him shocked by the furious, blue-white electricity darting along the building’s surface, forcing him to retreat away from it once more. 

 

If there was a key, he certainly didn’t have it. 

 

Which left nothing for him to do here but leave, then. Standing once more at the opening, Twilight considered the outcroppings peppering the cliff to his left, drawing out a clawshot and eyeing the dark, glittering stone on the ledge 20 feet over. The claw reached it, as he’d thought, but ricocheted off the cluster, unable to grip into the rock to haul him over, as he’d thought . 

 

It’d be nice to be proven wrong for the better, just once. 

 

Twilight sucked his teeth, running a hand over the slippery, rain-soaked rock. He didn’t relish the idea of trying to climb bare stone in the first place, and there was definitely no grip at all at the moment. There was a small, sturdy stone protruding from the ground just inside the opening that he could have anchored around to climb down; he had rope in his bag, of course -what kind of a self respecting ranchhand wouldn’t- but it wasn’t long enough to get him to the bottom, and he didn’t relish leaving the rope behind either.

 

Luckily, he didn’t have to risk it. From his bag he withdrew a not-often used item from his own adventures: the spinner. It was a spinning top that had a flattened upper side so it could be stood upon, the pointed base spinning separately from the platform on top. Large and clunky, it spent most of its time taking up space in the bottom of his bag, brought along mostly because he’d forgotten he’d stored it there so it didn’t have to clutter up his home. 

 

It had come into use exactly one time so far amongst the Chain, and that was to entertain Wind and Hyrule (and the others, too, though that was unintended) long enough to ensure they didn’t go stir crazy in camp whilst they were stuck waiting a few days in one spot. 

 

In hindsight, it was an egregious mistake. 

 

The younger heroes had been curious at the sight of it as he cleaned out and reorganized his bag, the wonder quickly turning to pure delight as Twilight demonstrated how to ride it. Four had quickly joined in, riding double with Legend, who was trying and failing to hide exactly how interested he was in testing the spinner out. Even on the first go any of them had been handier at it than Twilight had been, the Ranchhand having taken many a fall before finally getting to be mediocre at riding the damn thing.

 

He’d just assumed he was terrible at handling it. Twilight should have known it was exactly as temperamental and bloodthirsty as it had ever been with him, just biding its time for maximum bloodshed.

 

It wasn’t long before the good clean fun had quickly escalated out of control as the short distance the spinner traveled before dumping its rider to the side lost its charm, followed inevitably by … alternative means of use. This served not only to make things much more exciting, but also to up the ante from bumps and bruises to… worse consequences for increasingly foolish behavior. Said foolishness was well-masked from the group as a whole by their collective fascination with the whole set of shenanigans. Even Warriors and Time took their turns, their eldest finagling out of Twilight all the little quirks of the item, which had culminated in Warriors breaking an arm riding confidently off a gulley ledge with Four. 

 

This was far more surprising to all of them in the moment than it should have been, in retrospect.

 

The Smithy, though initially guilt-ridden at having been the direct cause of the broken bone by means of the pure momentum of what mass he had to get thrown around after the spinner hit an unlucky rock, had quickly recovered after Warriors’ easily given forgiveness and promptly leaned into his new found bone-breaking reputation. It was a threat thrown around at the smallest slight against him for the next few days, huffed as Four drew himself up to his full, not-so-considerate height, pointing a finger up at Time as the taller hylian tried and failed to hide a smile at the fury for eating the last of the nut spread. 

 

It was amusing, and harmless, and well worth its weight in Warriors’-having-broken-an-arm-edness in the end. 

 

(The Veteran had been distracted, lost in thought all day and unconsciously tapping his nails against the ocarina at his belt. He’d had it out that morning, Sky quietly warning the others that during his watch Legend had woken from a nightmare and not gone back to sleep at all, only cradling the little instrument morosely as he sat silently at Sky’s side until the rest of camp roused. 

 

It was driving most of them up the wall, but none were brave enough to say anything to him, for fear that he’d snap back with a sharper tongue than usual or worse - break down altogether from whatever was so obviously burdening him.

 

None of them wanted to be the final straw that pushed him over the edge.

 

Even Wind held his silence, though judging by how he was screwing up his face in annoyance and fidgeting his shoulders he wasn’t going to last much longer. And that was a disaster just waiting to happen, Twilight trying to think of a way to distract the little Sailor when Four’s smooth voice suddenly glided in through the uneasy quiet, the diminutive hero having made his way to the Veteran’s side without any of them noticing until he spoke. 

 

“Legend, if you don’t stop tapping that ocarina I will break your arm,” Four said cooly, grey eyes having steadily narrowed over the course of the last fifteen minutes of relentless clicking. “And I know how to make it look like an accident.”

 

The inside joke softened the gentle warning enough that Legend relented gracefully, blinking down at his fingers upon the ocarina before his lips twisted wryly and he tucked it pointedly away in his bag, twiddling empty fingers in Four’s direction afterwards. Sky heaved an exaggerated sigh of relief that had the Vet’s shoulders tensing defensively until the sky-born knight threw an arm over them, chuckling. “Narrow escape there, Vet. We know he means it.” 

 

“I’d say I’d like to see him try, but I have, and it didn’t look like fun,” Legend said to Sky conspiratorially, tone weaker than normal but a relief nonetheless, the morose Vet finally coming out of his funk a little and leaning into the other’s side as they walked.

 

Through the round of soft, gladdened laughter Warriors stared at Four, nonplussed, expression growing more concerned when the smaller hero turned to him with a cherubic smile so broad and bright his eyes closed with the force of it. 

 

The Captain knows it was an honest accident, he does , but truly, the thought of getting on Four’s bad side scares him nonetheless- and it has nothing to do with spinners.)

 

All this to say that as Twilight took out the item he could only hope that the same misfortunes wouldn’t befall him; though he had potions to spare, he’d rather not waste them on something so silly as falling off the spinner- no offense to Warriors, who had achieved truly admirable spinning, tilting near-saves before he and Four finally went down. He double checked the boulders’ location at the base of the cliff, assured he would clear them, and hopped onto the spinner, sending it whirring forward and straight out of the opening into dead space. 

 

There was a moment, as there always was midair, where he wondered if he’d messed up, nothing between him and the far off ground but the clunky grind of the spinner, only practice -and a few harrowing close calls- keeping him from falling away from it. The item was the closest equivalent he had to the parachuting deku leaf and sailcloth for handling long falls, but there was a reason he used it only rarely, and that reason was the multitude of ways it could cause mild-to-serious bodily harm to anyone who wasn’t both well-used to using it and also a little bit lucky.

 

The problem clearly being surviving long enough to get well-used to it.

 

In hindsight, it was a very good thing the monster camp right next to his landing point was empty for more reasons than just the most obvious, because he was anything but discreet as he came crashing down. The spinner took the brunt of the impact, the platformed top compacting down over the needle as it bounced and kept going over the wet grass. Twilight abandoned ship before it could slip and skid out from under him, chasing after the whirring spinner as it fell on its side and began rounding in a circle before stowing it once more in his bag.

 

There was no further information to be found upon the ground, save that there was a strong wind gusting through his hair and still no other person in sight. For lack of direction, Twilight  decided to check the other landmarks he could see as the only promising locations in sight. Opting for speed, he shifted easily into a wolf to cover ground more quickly, grasping the dark crystal in hand and letting its magic roll over him like cool water, a chill that sunk into his skin and quickly grew painfully cold as the magic took root and his body changed shape.

 

Bones and muscle melded smoothly into a wolf’s shape, the pull and stretch painful through the numbing effect of the magic but not agonizing, not anymore. After many shifts he’d learned not to fight it, which helped the transformation flow quicker and easier and freed him from the sensation of the broken edges of his bones grating across one another as muscles snapped away before everything reformed, whole and unharmed. 

 

Needless to say, the first time he’d been forced into a wolf’s shape had been nigh traumatizing, and not solely because he had no warning or inkling of what was happening.

 

Experience and malleability didn’t account for everything, though. He may have grown as accustomed to the sensation of transforming as was possible, but even so it only continued to grow easier, even now, though he was doing nothing discernibly different.

 

That left only one answer, really.

 

If nothing else was changing, then all that was left was what he couldn’t trace a difference in. Twilight may have next to no awareness of his own magic, but he had a suspicion that the continued acclimation to the transformations had to do with the dark crystal changing his magic. It was not so subtly shown by the markings upon his forehead growing ever more stark and extensive as he continued to habitually take lupine form. 

 

He’d not asked Legend or even Time, yet, if they could tell. Didn’t know himself if he truly wanted to know the truth, really, or have them know. It was a disconcerting thought, and when the markings had initially begun to show years ago he’d panicked and stopped using the crystal, afraid of what it was turning him into- except Rusl and Uli hadn’t shared his fear. Wolfie was as friendly as ever, and Twilight was if anything more settled and calm when he used his last connection to Midna, even if it was for something as silly as letting the children ride on his back through town. 

 

It was twili magic, and for all that it tended darker it didn’t need to be feared for that alone. And if it was changing him, well- Wolfie had only ever been helpful in his adventures, and Midna, for all her flaws, was not lacking in admirable traits herself.  

 

In a matter of breaths a wolf settled onto its paws, mossy green fur ruffling in the streamline winds of the open field. For one glorious second he was a picturesque model of a wolf; all fluff softening the powerful lines of his body, white markings stark against the darker midtones of his body. Then the next gust of wind brought a sheet of rain, dampening his bulk and sending him prancing sideways to turn away from it, snowy paws and stomach splattering with mud in an instant. He shook out his fur, wrinkling his snout as the rain continued to dampen it, even if he knew from experience nothing but a full dunking would penetrate his undercoat. 

 

Twilight would be warm regardless of how long he stayed out in the elements, but the smell of wet dog…

 

Well, it lingered , is all, and there wasn’t much he could do about it without taking a bath. There was no avoiding it now, though, so he resigned himself to the inevitable annoyance with a sigh and a useless shake that sent water skimming off him for a second before the rain undid the effort. 

 

He loped towards the ruins, finding evidence of monsters long gone by now, the smells having been worn away prior to the rain even if the camp and disarray remained. Or wait, not all smells-he cocked his head, sniffing curiously at the barrels around the broken walls. There was food inside them, which had to come from somewhere else; the ruins were old, by the state of weathering and disrepair, and the food stored within them would have long rotted by now. 

 

It meant civilization couldn’t be terribly far away, at least, and Twilight set bright blue eyes on the strange horse-like construction with renewed curiosity, trotting patiently towards it as he took in the quiet beauty of the rain falling over the grassy hills, wildflowers waving in the gusty downpour. His head swiveled to the side as a pair of rosy cranes flapped laboriously by, one complaining loudly at the other for taking too long to start on home as the wind nearly jostled them into one another.

 

 In the distance, a familiar blue glow shone through the rainy gloom. 

 

Twilight’s ears perked, and he slowed to a trot as he surveyed the distant cone. By its shape and color it looked to be the same structure he’d landed beside, and if that was the case maybe one of the others had landed on this one? He swerved towards it before looking around and stopping altogether, one paw lifted uncertainly before he finally planted it on the muddy earth. 

 

Even if another of the Chain had arrived there, they wouldn’t stick around to shelter in it amongst the rain and the shocked state of the building. What he could see of the field surrounding it was empty of anything but grass and small hills, save for the building he was heading for and the ruins he’d left behind. If they were going to go anywhere, it would be there. 

 

As he drew closer to the patchworked horse-head construction he wondered if it was a strange monster base, right up until he caught sight of a distinctly human rider and horse racing for it, head ducked against the rain. 

 

And a person meant information, which Twilight could rather desperately use right now. This wasn’t exactly a densely populated area, apparently, save for animals- and while they were certainly chatty enough under the right circumstances, how useful what they knew was… varied. Wildly. 

 

Some of it was the fact that they didn’t use language the way hylians did- more emotions, pictures, sensory information that didn’t translate very well, for all that it flowed like normal dialogue when he was an animal too. Half the time he learned something as a wolf and when he shifted back to two legs found it made little sense any more, the context lost as he once more experienced the world as a hylian.

 

Animals also had different focuses and priorities; they only cared for what affected them and theirs immediately, and didn’t often bother with the why of things. Domestic animals were a little better, mostly by virtue of their proximity to humans, not necessarily more intelligent but certainly more willing to talk at length with Twilight and have more pertinent information. 

 

In the face of all of that, he’d much rather speak to a human, if only for simplicity’s sake and to avoid having to untangle whether a sparrow’s big-danger-bright-colors was actually a monster or just a kid who’s taken up kite-flying. 

 

He followed the rider’s path, loping along the road towards the pine trees neatly circling what he could finally make out as a fenced inn, of sorts, the homey lights shining out amongst the dreary evening. It looked to be more of a wayside stop now that he was closer and the rain easing off, far more inviting than it had seemed when nothing more than the odd construction looming above its tented top. 

 

Twilight shifted back to hylian well out of sight, dipping around back and past the trees after checking no one was near. Another wash of cold magic chilling him to his shifting bones, and he straightened to his full height, nose wrinkling at the rain that felt much colder without fur to block it out. 

 

And the wet dog smell, already clinging to his hair and skin. 

 

Ugh .

 

Twilight ruffled half-heartedly in his bag for his waterproof cloak before squinting out at the easing rain and giving up, having totally forgotten where he’d stowed it after the last time he’d tried reorganizing his bag to prevent this very issue- 

 

“Wait,” he said aloud, expression flattening as he recalled where the cloak had gone. Nevermind indeed- he’d given it to Warriors after the Captain’s had been torn to pieces in a rainy battle. Twilight his eyes at himself and settled his fur more firmly over his shoulders, turning on his heel to find a way out of the rain. His boot slipped on the wet pine needles as he did so, the glossy covering of them over the muddied ground slick without claws for traction. His feet slid and slipped for a handful of moments before planting a hand solidly on the trunk of the nearest tree with a hollow thwack, putting an abrupt stop to his swaying attempt to stay upright. 

 

He was thoroughly distracted as he cautiously stepped his way out of the pine-needle slick and into the squelching mud where the grass still didn’t cover the ground too well in the shade of the trees. His senses may be heightened even in his hylian form, but the rain muffled his hearing and dampened his smell to near normal levels, his range of perception halved from what he usually enjoyed. Paired with his underlying worry over his missing friends and the way he’d been stranded in a strange new world, Twilight was already on edge and twitchy. 

 

Which is why when a person popped out of nowhere -and he did indeed mean nowhere - behind him in a sudden burst of flame flickers and discrete pop , the hero was startled enough to draw a sword on them. 

 

The Ranchhand would have been sorrier for the fact if the other hadn’t been masked, cackling, and firing an arrow at him where they were frozen unnaturally in the air at the apex of their jump. He stepped deftly out of the way before lunging forward to slice at them with the sword, only for them to backflip out of the way, landing dramatically and- 

 

Were they posing ? 

 

They cocked their head at him curiously for a moment before staggering back in overdone shock, arms flailing emphatically as they pointed at him, crying in affront. 

 

“Wait, you’re not the hero! What did you do with him? Better not have killed him- that honor belongs to the Yiga Clan, vengeance for the Dark Lord’s defea-hey!” They shrieked and fired off a wild arrow, missing Twilight by a healthy inch as he struck forward to take them out while they were distracted monologuing- he’d heard enough to know they were no friend, not when they reeked of darkness.

 

He missed a fatal blow, but did manage to knock their bow flying as he nearly disarmed them in a very literal sense. Helpless, they skittered back with much unnecessary flailing, no longer laughing, raising their uninjured arm before them in a strange hand sign before the same red papers and sparks that had heralded their arrival whipped into existence around them.

 

 “You’ll be seeing us again, rogue!” They cried in a pained voice before they were gone as suddenly as they’d arrived, having taken nothing worse than a nasty gash on their arm. 

 

Twilight was left staring at a bunch of bananas and a handful of rupees, the strange bow discarded a few feet away. 

 

What the hell was he supposed to make of that?

 

----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Twilight was no worse off by the time he strolled into the yard in front of the inn, though still befuddled, the loot tucked away and the strange bow upon his back. To his delight a pair of dogs came running to greet him, a tan male and ash-dark female, both of them darlings who were happy to roll over for belly pats he was more than glad to lavish upon them. He knelt shamelessly in the mud for a few minutes, relishing in the simple pleasure of the pure bliss of the full-grown puppies wagging happily under his attention.They whined plaintively as he finally stopped, wriggling pleadingly about his legs only to yip in joy when he instead dug through his bag and offered some dried meat to them instead. 

 

It was only sprinkling now, but he was already wetter than he’d like and a chill was in the air as evening fell, so he reluctantly stopped spoiling the dogs and letting them cover him in even more mud and approached the building, the man at the desk waving him inside before catching a better glimpse of him as he entered the spread of light and changing his mind, walking from inside the tent to meet him at the outer counter, still sheltered from the damp mist but less so than indoors. 

 

“Haven’t seen you here before,” the man said mildly, eyes catching on Twilight’s markings as most people’s did, before glancing over his pelted shoulder. The innkeeper's face tightened minutely, something like wariness drifting through the air; a common enough response to the intimidating figure he cut that the hero had long since learned to brush it off. 

 

“Run across trouble?” The man asked, the question feeling loaded somehow. The Ranchhand glanced inside and found a group of people watching back as they shamelessly eavesdropped, a seemingly random group of travelers sheltering from the rain. They too seemed uneasy at his presence, though all of them smelled more of fear than of aggression.

 

Twilight tipped his head against the tense atmosphere and smiled warmly, well practiced in off-setting his tattoos and armed appearance. “The rain’s the worst of it,” he said easily, before jerking a thumb over to where he’d been attacked. “Though I was just jumped by someone looking for the hero, and I don’t think they had good intentions. Don’t suppose you’ve seen any hylians come by here recently, have you? Blonde, blue-eyed, hero type? He could use a warning.”

 

If that was even the first time, that is. It sounded like it might not have been, and that it wouldn’t be the last attempt -no matter how easily dealt with- on this hero’s life. Twilight wanted to make sure their newest Chain member was prepared and handling it, and that he didn’t have stronger, more competent enemies hunting him down like the disappearing stranger. 

 

Somehow, though, this proved to be the wrong thing to say. The smile froze on the Ranchhand’s face, falling away as he blinked against the surge in fear and suspicion of all those present, unconsciously shifting back and letting his hands drift to his sides in a show of harmless intent. Something about him had edged the others from caution to outright fear of him, and he hadn’t a clue about what had set them off. 

 

That he was looking for the hero? Or that he wanted to warn him of the danger seeking him out? Neither the tent nor any of its inhabitants smelled of malice as his attacker had, but there was inarguably something wrong with this whole situation, and it irked him that he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.   

 

Twilight was used to making others uneasy, but he’d always hated being feared. 

 

The innkeeper smiled at him politely, eyes cool even as tension visibly gripped his shoulders. “He’s already aware, thank you,” he said in a clipped tone, clasping his hands together to hide how they trembled. Twilight’s eyes caught on them nonetheless, and he looked up in time to collide gazes with the man, who only grew more agitated at his nervous tic being caught out. 

 

The hero tried for a reassuring smile and the man only drew his professional politeness more firmly around himself in response, utterly unassured.  “I haven’t seen him lately,” the man rushed to add, gesturing a hand at the open land around them. “Link doesn’t drop by here often, and randomly even then. I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you, sir.” The address was curt, and the unspoken message clear: 

 

Please leave.  

 

Twilight tipped his head, nostrils flaring as he caught the nerves edging on untruth; not an outright lie, but pushing the vague statements he’d given the Ranchhand a bit far, it seemed. At least the issue appeared to be less a problem with the hero than with Twilight himself; something was placing him firmly as a dangerous enemy in their eyes. 

 

He was tempted to do as they wished and just go, at a complete loss for how to mend the situation without worsening it. Twilight was loath to prolong their discomfort, either; Link wasn’t here, and if he was only frightening them he’d rather just leave than linger unnecessarily. 

 

He’d rather detangle animal’s talk than remain here amidst the rancid taint of fear and know it was because of him. 

 

Happy to relieve them of the apparent burden of his presence, he instead jerked a hand to the horses alongside the tent, a far faster means of travel than even his own alternate form, and nowhere near as exhausting. “Alright, how much for a horse, then? I need to be getting to the castle quickly, if possible.” 

 

The Ranchhand kept his voice amicable as he dug for his wallet in his already hopelessly messy bag, irately shifting everything around and nearly losing the bananas out the top as he yanked it out and it snagged on the cluster. He untangled them and shoved the whole mess -by the gods, it looks like Warriors had snuck his rain cloak back into his bag after all- back into the chaotic void carelessly, turning back to the counter fully prepared to pay his way out from their hair. 

 

His smile fell into a frown, ears pinning back nervously.

 

The innkeeper had moved another step back and was staring pale faced at Twilight, as fear stricken as if it were a dagger in his hand rather than a pouch of rupees. “The horses aren’t for sale, or for lease.” He said quietly in a shaky voice, and gave no further explanation. He crossed his arms, hands clenched as he dug his fingers in to hide their shaking. Twilight looked between him and the horses that were apparently only boarded there. 

 

He was disappointed at the lack of a mount, but more than that irritated- not at the situation, but at the fact that the innkeeper was telling the truth and yet was absolutely and utterly terrified that Twilight was going to refute it or push the issue. It was written in every line of his body and on every angle of his scent, and Twilight knew he didn’t deserve it, but that didn’t stop it from being so. 

 

His stomach twisted at the looks they were all giving him, as if he were a feral animal one wrong word from ripping their throats out. Twilight wanted nothing more than to leave and slink back out into the night, to stop frightening these poor folk by being nothing more than his usual, frightening self, apparently. 

 

Not yet, though. He needed one more thing, and this time he gave up friendliness for blank civility, since his smile only seemed to make them uneasy. “Can you at least point me to the castle?” He asked simply, and when the man stared at him, frozen, he let his lips tighten before adding, “I’m meeting my friends there, they’ll be waiting.” Not that he owed them an explanation, but anything to humanize him in their eyes-

 

Ah, he should have known some biases just couldn’t be budged.

 

If anything, the innkeeper’s expression darkened, the others in the tent furiously whispering to one another before one man strode to the opening. He gave Twilight a healthy buffer as he passed, watching the tall hylian nervously as he hurried out into the misting evening and mounted his horse- the same one he’d seen taking shelter from the rain earlier, marking this as the rider he’d seen on his way here. 

 

There was an awkward, empty silence as he watched the man check his tack and mount up, urging his horse right into a canter as he left along the same road he’d entered, sending a look back at them before jumping at Twilight’s staring and hunching farther as he kicked his horse into a gallop.

 

Suspicious, but not duplicitous, for all that it appeared that way. No, he and the innkeeper smelled the same way Rusl and his rebellion had when they finally took action; nervous, afraid, but determined and resolute. They weren’t acting maliciously, for all that it hurt him to be treated thusly without having properly earned it, but that didn’t by any means ensure they were acting harmlessly.

 

Twilight narrowed his eyes after the retreating rider, cutting his gaze back to the man looking more nervous now than inhospitable. “Where’s he going so quickly?” His voice was even and low, a hint of a growl in the coarseness of the words. 

 

A nervous laugh, and the other avoided his hazel gaze. “Oh, he was only sheltering here in the rain. He side-tracked until it slowed, and now he’s off to wherever he was going before.” The man said unhelpfully.

 

A lie, that. Twilight’s stare hardened, and he shifted to fully face the shorter man, straightening to his full height. 

 

Contrary to what he’d expected, the other wasn’t intimidated into exposing their plot, though, instead straightening his shoulders too and seeming to gather his courage, demanding in a shaking voice,  “What are you going to do at the castle?”

 

“Nothing,” Twilight replied flatly, for this man had earned no honesty from him, nor would he trust him with any further knowledge of the Chain or their whereabouts, already cursing what he’d let slip. “What’s the fastest way there?” He said softly, menace very clear in how he delivered the demand.

 

A long silence passed. Twilight shifted, self-loathing stabbing into his chest as the man flinched like he’d drawn a weapon, warring with the frustration and hurt of he treated me as an enemy first!  

 

The sentiment didn’t help ease the bitter twist of his stomach much at all, but him playing into whatever dark intent they suspected of him paid off.

 

“If you go towards the shrine you can see it,” the man said quickly, gesturing with a hand as he watched Twilight as if waiting for him to snap. “Circle around north and you’ll end up at the castle entrance. Have a good night, sir.” And he beat a hasty retreat inside, ducking under the counter to group up with the remaining huddle in the tent. It was no safer there had he truly been a threat, really, not with the open flaps, but Twilight was already feeling a little ill at the fear  burning in the air due to him. 

 

There was a familiar sense of disgust rising up within his lungs at the part of him that invoked such dread in everyone from strange innkeepers to soldiers in the night to his own foster father, seeing only danger and death as he looked upon Twilight’s lupine form. He doesn’t blame Rusl, not in the least, for he couldn’t have known, but none of that takes the agony from the memory of the fear in those familiar eyes, the panic and promise of violence as he took up the same stance he’d taught Link to use a sword with. 

 

To fight against monsters, and he’d raised the same blade against Twilight. 

 

And he’d worked past all this, especially with Rusl himself once he’d realized that turning into a wolf was going to be a continuing habit and admitted it in a bout of frenzied bravery one night after supper. Come to accept it so wholly that he wore the pelt that enhanced his bulk, and didn’t hide the markings upon his face, felt comfortable in both his skins once more. 

 

Funny, how easily one bad experience could shake the foundations he’d built for himself. They wouldn’t crumble, not for this, but- 

 

It was jarring, at a time when he already felt off kilter in the sudden absence of his brothers, and his chest ached with want for their company, for the familiar noise and bluster and heart-wrenching comfort of their presence. 

He just had to hold out a little longer- the innkeeper hadn’t been lying, when he’d directed Twilight towards the castle. Anxious, yes, but honest, and that meant that he could leave these travelers’ suspicions behind and rendezvous with his fellow heroes at this world’s castle.

 

Because it was a new world, it seemed. The camps were unfamiliar, and the open wilderness around him was unlike anything in any of the Chain’s Hyrules. That meant a new hero, and as he retreated from the tent’s counter and into the encroaching darkness Twilight perked up a little at the thought, glad for another soul bond even if they had been sure that the Chain was complete. There was no reason this hero would be any less welcome and a part of them as any of the others had been. 

 

No reason to worry this hero would fear him the way the others in his Hyrule have, when none of the rest of the Chain did. 

 

A part of himself still trembled at the thought, fragile and disquieted.

 

Each of his brothers was precious, and he’d never refuse another, even if it seemed this hero did prove… nervous around him- there was a first for everything.

 

Twilight shook his head, catching the negativity and doing his best to brush it away. No, he wasn’t going to build issues where none existed; wasn’t going to taint this new hero’s image in his mind with what his own brothers would consider slander until unless it came to pass. 

 

He turned out of sight once more, the dogs happily following after him until he hit the fence. Twilight gave them another treat and round of vigorous petting, patiently waiting through their gracious face licks before continuing on, waiting until he had a good distance before shifting to a wolf so he didn’t set the dogs to barking. He’d loved to have talked with them, but couldn’t bear the thought of lingering there any longer, cringing as he imagined one of the travelers catching sight of a wolf in the inn’s front yard.

 

No, he couldn’t deal with that right now. 

 

So instead he left it behind, rolling over what meager information he’d gathered. Twilight didn’t know what a shrine was, but the only other thing nearby was the glowing building, which must be it- or so he hoped. In due time he was hopping up onto a stone platform identical to the one he’d stepped out of the portal onto, though this one was markedly less angry, with no electricity at all running rampant over it. 

 

Twilight did his best to wrangle its secrets from it, to no avail. He still couldn’t unlock the display, and even able to freely examine the inside of it without fear of being shocked he couldn’t figure out a way to make it do anything. Huffing, he clambered to the peak of the rocky ridge behind the construct for a better view, taking in the world laid out before him. 

 

Most importantly, he could indeed see Hyrule castle, not too terribly far off towards the northeast, though it seemed dark , somehow, in the same way his was compared to the pale stone of the other worlds. Not just in color though, but in aura as well- it seemed weighted, somehow, burdened, its radiating majesty a weary thing. 

 

 From here were also visible mountains and lovely rolling plains whose details were lost in the dimming evening light, the moon too low still to be of help. The only road he could see was to his right, bending away from the castle to disappear around a small mountain. Odd, that the road here wouldn’t lead to the castle, although the man hadn’t said anything about the road his wayside stop sat alongside, either. Twilight turned to track where that one went, but it seemed to run away from the castle as well. 

 

Stranger and stranger, that, but maybe this one was designed less as a central hub and more as a fortress. Twilight gave an internal shrug and moved onwards as a wolf once more, heading left to the north as he was directed, drifting gradually closer to the hulking castle as he passed over hills in the falling dusk, the clouds having parted to regift the day’s last light back to him. The sunset was a glory of lavenders and pinks and silky oranges, catching across the dewy grass and washing the fields with gentle fiery hues. The effect didn’t last long before Twilight descended a slope and lost the last of the sunlight, so caught up in the serene delight of the scene that the smell that violated his nose sent him staggering in shock, utterly blindsided. 

 

It was revolting , and only the fact that it was even somewhat faded by time and weather saved him from retching at the offending rot. It emanated from a bare patch of earth, empty now but still trampled and carrying the reek of some kind of monster Twilight never wanted to meet in person. The clearing was scattered with long dead animal remains and piles of unspeakable refuse, the primary culprit of the scent being so bad even this long after the monster had apparently been killed. 

 

Not long enough ago, though, and Twilight skittered back up the hill and farther north until he was sure he’d cleared the site and its emanating stench. Only then did he make his way towards the castle again, though already he could see a bit of a problem, now that he was this near. 

 

It’s possible, Twilight realized too late, that he’d been a bit hasty in his judgement of the innkeeper. He may not have been lying, but there was certainly some kind of subterfuge going on, else he’d not have made the path sound so simple when following the course had landed Twilight here:

 

Plopped on his haunches, head hung low as he looked down a cliff at a generous pond of water -too large to call a moat, though it certainly functioned as that- circling the castle. The water in itself wasn’t the issue, not when he had his zora suit and was willing to do a little cliff diving. 

 

No, the problem was with the equally featureless cliffs on the other side of the swift flowing water, which he had no interest in trying his mettle against if the only alternative was drowning if his climbing skill proved insufficient. Twilight hadn’t come all this way and survived this much with his brothers to drown alone at the base of a cliff. 

 

The wolf let his head fall back in a distinctly hylian gesture of defeat, letting a mournful ‘awoooo’ loose since there was no one to judge him for it, taking a minute of self pity and ‘ what am I supposed to do now ’ before shaking his fur and getting back to his feet. 

 

You’ll get to the castle entrance eventually , the innkeep had said, and it had rang true to his senses. If Twilight kept following the cliffs around, he trusted his nose and the man’s word to lead him to the castle and his brothers, hopefully.  

 

Though, now that he had eyes on it closer up, the hero understood a little of the odd look he’d gotten from the innkeeper in asking after it; even from this distance across the crescent lake it was clear the castle was in disrepair from something , battered and littered with dark masses of something that glowed a scalding crimson-pink in the night.

 

The dead trees littering the castle’s surroundings seemed to hint that it wasn’t a good thing, as did the darkness that hung heavy about the turrets and stonework. No lights on anywhere, no torches lighting any portion of the rooms within or windows that had to exist, or along the walls. It looked abandoned, just as ruined as everywhere else he’d seen so far except that innkeep’s little sanctuary. 

 

Maybe there was a good reason he’d been so wary of Twilight, and maybe it truly didn’t have anything to do with him except his status as a stranger at all. Though in hindsight it probably was extremely odd that someone would choose to go to an abandoned castle, nonetheless meet some friends there. Seeing it now made it clear he’d seemed up to no good whatsoever; whatever they’d thought of him, that surely hadn’t helped. 

 

The realization did make him feel a little better, though.  

 

It wasn’t his fault it wasn’t the central, bustling  hub of the kingdom like in ¾ of the Chain’s worlds; how could he have known it looked like this? Aside from the ruins he’d first seen after arrival, of course. Or the attack right outside the inn. But he couldn't be blamed for dismissing them as bad luck - outliers, even - not the indicators that for all its wild beauty this world seemed to have survived something terrible to hand it all back over to nature so wholly. 

 

He gauged the time, but not only was it far too early to try to find a site to bed down but Twilight found himself simultaneously anxious to regather with the Chain and curious enough about the open world around him to make sleep utterly unattainable. 

 

Night travel it was then, and oh, how he’d missed it. In his own adventure he and Midna had vastly preferred traveling under the stars to the sun, even if the monsters did abound more in a restless, imperiled kingdom in the midnight hours. There was something quietly tranquil about nighttime, separate from the bustle and activity of the day for all that it was active in its own manner. 

 

It was isolating, in a way, but for someone who didn’t mind being alone it wasn’t a bad thing, even if he’d still choose to share the company of a mouthy imp any chance he was given. But Midna was gone, now, and he’d come to accept that, even if he missed her enough to hurt like an arrow to the heart, sometimes. 

 

He’d had to accept a lot of things, in the wake of his adventure and left so very different than how he’d started. He’d the wolf haunting him mind and soul, taking that form freeing and frightening at once, knowing what awaited if he was caught by those he called family. And Midna, who had been ever at his side and perched upon him through all his struggles and all his victories, who had grown to be the closest confidante he’d ever known, had become the one-

 

Well, none of that mattered, now. She’d made it so, and he would have honored her decision and all that it entailed for him even if she’d given him a choice. 

 

( It hurt, not knowing if this is what she wanted or simply what she deemed necessary over her own desires. He’ll never know, and somehow that’s nearly the worst part of it all- wondering just how much of their connection had been him thinking she felt the same. )

 

Usually, missing of her wasn’t so bad anymore, the edges of the ache worn smooth with time and recovery, but there were always times when it hit all at once; a place in a conversation she’d have made a dry comment at, or when one of the Chain twisted Wolfie’s ear around a finger just so , the way she always used to when bored riding him. By now it was mostly bittersweet, dulled by time from the agonizing sharpness of a dear companion suddenly gone in the wake of victory and peace at last, abandoning him just when it seemed they could finally just be, without any of the stresses of the enemies they’d defeated together. 

 

He’d not done it solely for her to remain with him, of course, but that doesn’t mean Twilight didn’t think that she would be part of the after that had been so hard won.

 

And ah, but there he went again, and it wasn’t even twilight any longer. It seemed even after all this time the Twili Princess’ hold on his heart and mind was strong as ever, though he’d never have expected less from the charismatic, driven, smart-mouthed, too honest-

 

Gods, but he missed her still. 

 

She’d have loved it here, in the same way he did as he moved through the rolling hills, not sticking firmly to the cliffside surrounding the castle moat in favor of taking in the views as he began his trek northbound around the castle. 

 

For all his antsiness at meeting up with his brothers again, as night fell gracefully around him Twilight had to admit; this world was lovely . It was quiet, nothing but the hush of a gentle breeze through the grasses and soothing chirp of crickets, the steady rhythm of his paws against the ground the loudest disturbance around. The moon rose clean and white, nearly full, casting silver glaze over the grass and plants around, Twilight’s own fur painted pale and striking. 

 

He couldn’t resist the urge to stop and breathe it in, settling onto his haunches as he surveyed the calm all around. There was a herd of horses off in the distance, moving placidly without a concern for his presence, though he knew they saw him at the crest of his little hill. Nearby a young fox rolled happily in a soft bed of field clover, popping its head up to give him a once over before yipping a greeting to him. Bemused but not surprised -even in his world the animals seemed to sense he wasn’t a true wolf and posed no predatory danger- he sent back a friendly chuff and a wish for happy hunting. 

 

 The fox agreed smugly with the sensation of a full belly and mouse under its paws, before shaking his fur out and coming over to investigate the wolf further. It thought him odd but harmless, seemingly fearless as he brushed his snout over its back, the little vulpine easily able to walk under his belly were he standing, so greatly did Twilight dwarf him.  

 

Berry -for that was the simplest form of the name the fox had, a sense of berry juice on fur and sweetness in its mouth- settled next to him, curiously asking questions in the form of images and instincts, Twilight happy to describe his own homeland; darker than this one, but beautiful in its own right nonetheless. Haunted, too, but differently. 

 

Not as nice as this, the fox purred, white pointed tail curling around his paws delicately. The Ranchhand was hard-pressed to argue the point as he watched a shooting star blaze across the sparkling sky. This kind of tranquility existed in his world, but only in hidden pockets and well-guarded sanctuaries.

 

His ears pricked up as little golden orbs bloomed into existence, blinking lazily all across the ocean of grass before him. 

 

Oh, what are those?

 

Berry tilted golden eyes up at him, parting his jaws in a smile. Bugs! The glowing ones, though they don’t taste good , the fox replied back. Twilight perked up, rising to his feet to creep nearer, settling on his belly with his head stretched forward as the little insect floated gently his way, glowing that neon yellow again for a few seconds before its light went out. 

 

He kept his tail still from its instinctive wagging only out of practice, watching avidly as it neared him, about to alight on his uplifted nose-

 

The fox tore past him, rolling in the grass and leaping into the sky, the bugs scattering away in streaks of light as Berry chittered devilishly, chasing himself in a circle before dipping playfully before the lupine hero. Not tasty , it laughed, but fun to chase!

 

Twilight boofed a chastisement at the little fellow but followed after, the both of them gallivanting through the fields and scattering the glowing bugs from their calm, blinking swarms, flickering settling again in the wake of their harmless rampage. The wild horses lifted their heads as the pair gamboled closer, but though a mare tossed her head and muttered about silly foals they seemed unbothered by an admittedly harmless fox and apparently equally harmless large wolf playing nearby. 

 

It was delightful, something freeing about giving in to the instincts of this body to run and roll about. Even amidst the Chain he didn’t like to cut so loose, the puppy play seeming somehow far too juvenile and animalistic once he was hylian once more, and far too embarrassing for him to consider indulging in it, even with those heroes who didn’t know who Wolfie was. 

 

But eventually the little fox tired, giving Twilight another friendly nuzzle and well-wishes on finding his pack before flicking his auburn tail in farewell as he trotted off. In the ensuing quiet the Ranchhand shifted back into a hylian, remaining crouched in the sweet-smelling grass for a minute before stalking forward and leaping, clasping a little glowing bug in his hands, watching it crawl peaceably over his palms before stowing it in a bottle for Agitha. He repeated the process several times, finding the glow bugs easier to catch in the grass by far, ending up with a jar that blinked rhythmically as the group of insects within lazily lit up with seemingly no increase in agitation for their captivity. 

 

Deeply satisfied and more settled than he’d been since he arrived, Twilight took to his wolf form once more and continued on at an easy lope, letting the deep calm of this new Hyrule settle contentedly in his bones. 

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

He couldn’t travel through the whole night though- or at least, he knew it wasn’t a good idea. Twilight kept going until even his lupine endurance began to wear under the strain of running so far, making it to the early morning with a few hours left of darkness before he finally gave in and sought shelter in the sparse spattering of pines along a hillside when he nearly mistook a boar for a bulbos, hackles rising as he glimpsed it before realizing if it had been the creature he’d suspected he’d have smelt it far sooner. 

 

That, more than anything, marked his need for sleep.  

 

There were a trio of deer here, and a goat that had him stopping and staring in delight, taking in the blue gray coat that nearly matched his own, the thick horns that tilted the opposite orientation of his own Ordonian goats’ halo. He wandered closer, cautious of the temper he knew his own suffered from, disappointed but not surprised as it caught sight of him and stamped a hoof, not even dignifying his hopeful hello with an answer as it trotted off with pinned ears and a pissy attitude. 

 

Ah, but he’d missed goats. 

 

The deer tittered at him and assured him it wasn’t personal, moving off as they searched for their own place to bed down in the lush grass. He was given free rein to wander the moonlit woods alongside them, no monsters in sight past the whirling clouds of something like keese in the distance, not worth the hassle of going off and defeating them when no victims but himself were present in the wilderness around him. The woods were laden with bushes and thick beds of grass, the bases of trees skirted by a bounty of mushrooms, plump and colorful and inviting, of dubious edibility even after he sniffed them. 

 

After perusing his options -and getting chased off with a half-hearted charge by the crabby goat once more when he stumbled across it and tried to start a conversation again- Twilight opted to settle under a grouping of large bushes backed against a stone, about as protected and sheltered as he could get here without climbing one of the pines. Since he didn’t feel like getting sap all over him, the soft, cushy ground it was, the leaves helping to hide him and shade out the moonlight.

 

He’d thought the worries crowding his thoughts would keep him awake as they had so many nights before, but…

 

The night was calm, the rush of leaves a gentle lullaby. His limbs were weary, and he was worn from hours of fast-paced travel. In the end, he dozed off quickly despite the quiet ache of the emptiness his brothers should fill around him, the lull of the wilderness easing his tired body into the sleep it needed. 

 

It wasn’t so empty when he woke up, the air still morning cool though the sun was higher than he’d expected. The bigger surprise was the other bodies pressed up against him, warm canine shapes nestled in under the patch of bushes. Wolves, four of them, just as blue coated as he was green-tinged gray, and seeming more than happy to have swarmed his sleeping cove. He’d smelled them last night as he roamed the forest, but then he’d been smelling plenty of wildlife’s overlapping trails the whole way here, and having not set eyes on them thought the packs were as inconspicuous as his own worlds’ tended to be. 

 

Yet here they were, yawning and dozing, a head buried at his hip as another male curled along his back, a sharp-clawed paw stretching and planting firmly against Twilight’s forehead before its owner relaxed again with a sleepy sigh. The bushes were not large enough for five full grown wolves, despite what these squatters seemed to think; two of them were barely even under the cover of the leaves, though it's not as though they needed it in the mild climate of the hills here. 

 

Twilight huffed, tossing his head and twisting to crawl over the female next to him, snaking his way between the branches and over her shoulders, squishing the next wolf over as he wriggled his way free of the nest of lupines and out into the open once more. A free wolf once more, he turned and sat, giving them the stink eye. 

 

The group was young, half of them staring at him sleepily while the other half grinned unrepentantly, one of the males springing up to bounce around him, his head only barely cresting Twilight's shoulder. The others roused gradually; two females, one dark pointed and the other white footed, and the last male, a dark, rich navy compared to the clean bright blue of the wolf currently trying to play with Twilight. 

 

Why do you smell so odd? He asked, rolling onto his back and waving his paws in the air as he wriggled, named for the flash of light across deep water: Dazzle, as bright and energetic as the pup heckling him. Twilight good naturedly bapped a paw at him that was hurriedly battered away, quickly devolving into pouncing slap fight with the other. 

 

Because sometimes I’m hylian, not wolf, he rumbled, mouth open wide in mock warning as the black pointed female (the profound, simple beauty of a clean white moon, with an odd emphasis not on the color but its purity instead, for which Twilight gave her the name Pristine) wormed her way into the scuffle as well. 

 

Hylian ? The two males wondered in unison with mirrored cocked heads, and the white footed female, the oldest of the bunch even if she was the smallest, exhaled deeply. 

 

(A clever twist that wins a fight, quick-minded- Wit, she was)

 

Oh, you know them- near the sick pond, towards the ever-fogged forest; once you leave the wild, they’re everywhere. Not safe for fools like you, which is why I’ve kept you clear of them. 

 

Small sounds of amazement, and cold wet noses poking into Twilight's fur at three separate points as the adolescent wolves all investigated the new oddity, taking in the scents under the natural wolven smells of his life as a hero and a hylian first and foremost. 

 

Prove it! The dark male demanded, the boldest of all of them- he was the busy stars above in the darkest part of the night, and though it wasn’t the best translation Twilight couldn’t help but choose Midnight, for him. 

 

I won’t, Twilight deferred, but only because your alpha is right. You should avoid hylians where possible, and I don’t want you going near only because I was not so bad myself. I’m a special case , he said fondly, and the wolves agreed readily that he was very unique, very interesting, could they please follow along for awhile ?

 

Twilight couldn’t help but nuzzle them fondly, giving the softer spoken, hopeful eyed Dazzle a firm licking over the forehead. You can, though not all the way. It will not be as interesting as you expect, pups. 

 

But they only heard the agreement, of course, even Wit perking up in interest as they shook out their fur. Twilight, were he alone, would have switched back and eaten before heading out. That was out of the question now, for the same reasons he’d given the young pack before him; he didn't want them growing comfortable or even more curious of hylians and venturing too close for either their or any innocent traveler’s safety. 

 

So he’d be going hungry, then. He’d never been able to stomach hunting as a wolf, not when he could understand the other animals. There were still times when he couldn’t bear meat even as a hylian, though in this adventure he understood the necessity of it. He was one of the better hunters in the group, but never as a wolf. 

 

It would feel too close to murder, then, even if it was nothing more than the natural order of things. Ironic, really, that game was much safer around him as a wolf and seemed to full well know it, while his hylian form was treated with as much if not more suspicion than most. 

 

The pack let him have point, pacing merrily behind him as he moved them out, reveling in the clean, fresh air and soft grass underfoot. In the light of day, he could see that he had made it well around the castle, and could now confidently say that he’d been directed around the back of the castle, rather than the front. Considering the man that had rode on ahead, it was likely to make time to warn someone there, and Twilight could only hope that there was no danger waiting for the other heroes when they inevitably gathered there. 

 

Well, he amended, looking at the worn, battered behemoth across the water. No more danger than seemed to have already hit, at least. This world didn’t seem dangerous, not really, just… recovering, really. Like a field after a fire, fresh new growth coming in thicker than the old. 

 

The devastation from the initial disaster was still easy to see. Twilight had already passed another set of ruins last night, and the glorious wreck across the water was only the grandest example that something terrible had befallen this world. 

 

Of course, the wolves cared little for the castle. Instead they showed Twilight small, endearing interests, cantering off and whining for him to come look as they unearthed a strange beetle, or found an interesting scent, coaxing him north over a ridge of land to see-

 

Another curving stretch of water and cliffs, though this time the sequestered land didn’t house a castle. No, across the way was a fogged forest, trees bare and arching, even this far away emanating a feeling as ominous and forcibly serene as a graveyard at midnight. 

 

Oh, he realized as they meandered down to the shore; easily accessible on this side as a shallow slope of stones. This worlds’ version of the Lost Forest, for he knew of no other place that felt the same. 

 

The ever fogged forest? He checked, and Wit chuffed an affirmative, eyeing a fish in the water before deeming it too far to be worth getting wet for. Pristine noticed her considering gaze and decided to help, leaping whole-heartedly into the river and only managing to snag a fish by luck, scaring a couple others to beach themselves upon the shore as she paddled back, snorting water from her nose as she clutched her prize aloft. 

 

Her coat drenched a stormy blue, she pranced over to the alpha and dropped it down, moving to sit and bask in the elder female’s pride before yipping in alarm as the not-yet-dead fish flailed wildly. Twilight suspects Wit could very well have pinned the fish down, but the older female only leaned back with a weary dead-eyed look as the hapless pup shed water heedlessly through the air and wrestled the fish to the death before her, finally pulling away to leave a significantly more mauled body behind, panting and bright-eyed as she waited for a compliment from the now-dampened alpha. 

 

Wit looked down at the fish with warm amber eyes and gave in, all while Twilight chuffed and turned down the others’ offers to him, the young males having rounded a few more fish to shore while Pristine was distracting him and the alpha. 

 

All those little bones… he’d rather not, and didn’t understand the iron stomach of these wolves to manage not to choke. They seemed to have no troubles, though, nor did it seem like the first time they’d enjoyed such a catch. Then, one by one, they each shook themselves dry, Wit snapping at them as she skipped clear, white paws flashing in the deep grass as she glared balefully at their gormless grinning faces. Twilight didn’t even try, simply absorbing the water into his thicker coat before slinking towards the alpha and getting one last, sad mist of a shake across her that earned him a firm nip in the ass. 

 

Twilight was surprised, but come evening that day the wolves were still following him. He’d already warned them he wasn’t stopping to hunt, but apparently they’d had a good meal of a buck before they’d squirreled away with him in the bushes, and he could only hope it wasn’t the same deer he’d seen that night, tittering at him slinking away from the goat and calling reassurances. 

 

Either way, he was the shiny new thing in their otherwise mundane lives, and the fact that he had a clear soft spot for the younger wolves wasn’t helping in their clear eagerness to interact with him. They’d certainly distracted and slowed him down compared to his initial pace, but he found despite the low-burning worry at being separated from the others he couldn’t be sorry for it, not when they were giving him the company he found himself starved for after merely a day. 

 

It was nice, he found. And he’d miss them, too, when they parted ways. He wasn’t sure the pups would understand, may even try to follow if he wasn’t careful or stern; Twilight was already making plans for how to sneak away if he had to, just to keep them away from the danger of the hylian world. 

 

He sighed up at the ripening sunset sky, listening to the happy yips of the male wolves and the females’ scolding. 

 

I get it now.  

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Twilight had no more seen the trio of bokoblins before he was launching forward to meet them. They were mounted on horses for a change, and though they seemed far more placid than the bulbos they were just as fast, the monsters wheeling them around as one caught sight of the large, menacing wolf racing towards them. 

 

Or wolves, rather, because the pack was following behind, spreading out to loop around the bokoblins. He’d expected -and half hoped- that they’d let him handle this alone, but it seemed he’d managed to endear them far more than he’d expected to. 

 

Watch for arrows as you cut in , Wit warned the younger wolves, the first volley slicing harmlessly past, the distance far enough to give them time to duck away. 

 

Twilight had never purposely fought a horse mounted enemy as a wolf before, but he’d spent plenty enough time around animals to know how to startle one. A snarl and a lunge and the already white-eyed mare ground to a halt rather than face him, head dipping low enough for the bokoblin to fly forward over her ears before she retreated up the hills. Twilight continued his flying run past the dazed bokoblin splayed on the grass, leaving it for the alpha to dispatch in favor of the still armed monsters trying to circle around them to take potshots. 

 

Dazzle and Midnight managed to harangue another monster from its horse, but Pristine nearly got a hoof to the skull for her efforts, leaving the last, pale furred bokoblin to steer its mount past the female pup towards Twilight. He charged to meet it gladly with a snarled challenge, fearless and focused as it lifted its bow. 

 

And aimed sidelong, the released arrow sinking into Midnight’s back as he ran to help Twilight, the smaller wolf going down in a tumble of legs and sharp screaming. The monster turned forward, nocking another arrow and sighting down at the furious, gray furred beast leaping to meet it. 

 

It wasn’t fast enough. 

 

Twilight barreled into the horse’s shoulder as he crushed the bow between him and the bokoblin, jaws closing around its throat as he dug his claws into its wiry leg and let gravity pull him and the monster away from the shrieking, cursing horse. As soon as he was clear of the hooves the lupine hero snapped his head around, violently shaking the monster in his grip as it tried to claw at him and failed to get through his fur. 

 

He’d hoped to break its neck, but the monster proved tougher than that, moving instead to rip at his face and eyes and force him to let go. 

 

Twilight was not in the mood. 

 

He braced a massive, clawed paw against the blin’s chest, pinning it to the ground as he ripped its throat out, the savagery of the act muted by the naturality of the motion to the form he currently wore. Twilight dropped the nearly decapitated corpse as it began to smoke away, twisting to confirm that the other monsters were dead before lunging towards the injured wolf. 

 

Even as he forced the bristling alpha none-too-gently to the side he was reaching within him for his hylian form, the arrow buried near the black line of fur marking Midnight’s spine likely fatal without hands to help him. A cool wash covered his skin, the shift something like unfolding along a seam and flipping inside out before he was digging through his pack, pushing wolf heads back from where they were agitatedly worrying at the feathered shaft trembling with the pup’s pained shaking.

 

Twilight had removed plenty of arrows from animals, but as it had always been shot game he’d rarely needed to care for mitigating damage. Upon closer inspection it was better than he’d first thought, buried in the wolf’s flank at such an angle the shaft followed the line of his body, but farther from the spine than he’d worried. Twilight rested a careful hand along the shaft, gauging how deeply it had pierced. 

 

It had to come out either way, and it’s not as if he had more than one method of doing so. 

 

He gripped it as far down as he could, shifted for a better angle, and pulled slowly and surely, afraid the head would come off with too sharp a jerk if the monsters’ weapons were shoddily made- and they very well could be. The wolf yelped and thrashed under the knee he’d pinned him with, but the Ranchhand gave not an inch, not even as the rest of the pack crowded in and whined. 

 

But they didn’t attack him, not even now, in a strange form and hurting their packmate. The arrow finally slipped free with a fresh wash of blood over dark fur, quickly covered with a clean cloth. 

 

Health potions were found, generally, to work on most animals- at least, Twilight’s worked on his worlds’ animals. Watered down, of course, and even then it generally wasn’t worth wasting an expensive potion on a creature, but the point still stood, even if it was far less explored in the wilder ilk of beasts. With that in mind, the Chain had found that red potion did indeed work on Wolfie; he’d deemed it a reasonable risk to take when separated and injured with no one but Warriors around, knowing that even if it were no use to the average wolf it may very well be a different case for one of Hylia’s hero, regardless of form. 

 

“Time to find out just how special I really am,” Twilight muttered, adding water to some red potion into a shallow bowl he had on hand specifically for feeding animals, a holdover from his quest and the vary-formed friends he’d made along the way and made it a point to treat when he could. He laid it before the injured wolf, coaxing a shuddering Midnight to lay on his belly. 

 

He’d removed the arrow, but the injury could still kill the wolf, and would certainly maim him if this didn’t work. Twilight made soothing noises, wondering for a moment if he’d have to shift back just to communicate and convince the pup to drink it, but the other tentatively lapped at it after a whine from Wit, the sound in his hylian form sapped of any deeper meaning then the plea it clearly was.  

 

He lifted the cloth and found the blood slowing, watching as it sealed shut, thoughtfully swirling the mostly full potion. Midnight craned his head around, moving the injured leg curiously before Twilight gently pushed him back towards the remaining potion. By the time it was finished the pack had relaxed some now that the pained whimpering had ceased, the non-stop flow of conversation that had surrounded the hero as a wolf nothing more now than minute body language and subtle vocalizations he couldn’t hope to understand. 

 

The quiet of the wilderness felt deeper now, and sadder, now that he’d heard it filled with lupine chatter.

 

Still, when the pup stood up and moved cautiously around with little worse than a minor limp, it wasn’t hard to interpret the bounding joy and merry yips of the group, nor the manner in which he was tackled and buried under a mound of writhing furry bodies. He laughed, cooing happily and watching Midnight cautiously move about, relieved to find he didn’t seem overly hindered. 

 

He could have gone on, then. Could have parted from them then, and made his way to the castle to meet with or wait for the rest of the Chain. Except, it was too soon to turn back into a wolf without being tender from too much back-to-back shifting, and it would be so slow as a hylian. And he couldn’t just go without saying a proper good-bye, not with Midnight healing still and no way to tell them to be careful for a day or two-

 

And yeah, okay, so he was going to spend another night here with them. And he could pretend it was a hardship, acknowledge that it didn’t help the ball of anxiety for his friends’ whereabouts, but when all was said and done and they’d wandered off to a good site to spend the night and the wolves were fed from his own stores and he was left cuddled in the middle of a pile of very warm wolves on a cold night, it really wasn’t so bad at all. 

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Though he had to admit- the red moon was creepy and weird. 

 

---------------------------------------------------

 

It was the middle of the night when he startled awake, the hair on the back of his neck rising precipitously as the wolves likewise shifted around him anxiously. The moon was near overhead, now, still crimson and haloed by its own bloody light, the eerie cast over the land joined now by flecks he at could have taken for sparks, had it not been for the sense of wrongness as they grew denser and the sharp, burning tang of Malice in the air.

 

He stood up, face tilted up just like all the wolves’ were, eerily reflecting the red light. Wit seemed neither unruffled nor afraid, seated upright with her ears back as the younger wolves antsily paced around. The heavy, sickening feeling to the air grew worse, the sparks and visibly dark magic swirling around, streaking over the open plains like wind blown terror, leaving the wolves pressing down against the earth as Twilight gripped his sword tightly, heart racing and instincts demanding he run, though there was nowhere to go as the dark smoke thickened and obscured all sight. 

 

The weight of the malice bore down and slammed over him until he choked on the smell of it, the revolting wrongness of it nearly suffocating as he coughed and hacked, gripping at his chest with a terrified grimace, trembling from nerves as he endured it all alone in a field. 

 

Then, all at once, it was over. The smoke blew away on a clean, wild wind, the last sparks of evil dying in the dark serenity of the midnight air. Above them, the moon was white once more, whatever evil had plagued it purged all at once with seemingly no lasting repercussions. 

 

It was as worrisome as it was relieving, and Twilight didn’t like it one bit. He looked to the eldest wolf, watching her as she scoped around the fields before shaking her fur out and laying back down. 

 

He stared, incredulous, and she looked at him expectantly, the younger wolves bouncing around a bit before reluctantly drawing in closer as well, the night as calm as it had been before the disaster of dark magic. Midnight, recovering as he was, settled down first beside Wit and Pristine and Dazzle followed after a little bit of jostling for the free spot next to the eldest wolf. Eventually, Twilight slowly sank down, promptly drawn into the warm pile, still twitching at every bird call or bug rasp. But his heart slowed, eventually, the adrenaline fading in the face of the unworried alpha, and after a while he fell asleep once more, no worse off for the oddity of the event. 

 

----------------------------------

 

You could have warned me! He yelped come morning, having checked Midnight over and shifted to warn him to be careful and to say his goodbyes, only then learning from Wit what, exactly, the red moon had entailed. What do you mean , monsters come back?!

 

Just that she said nonchalantly, the younger wolves’ heads swiveling back and forth between her and Twilight as they avidly watched him slowly freak out over this new knowledge. 

 

You made it seem like it was no big deal! He said in dismay, and she flicked an ear dismissively. Had she been hylian, she’d have rolled her eyes at him.

 

The only odd thing about it is that it happened again after all this time without. That stone home used to be much worse before, you know. She tilted her head at him. It was just as evil as the moon magic, before one day it was gone and with it all the red moons.  

 

That… sounds like a hero completing his quest. Which only makes it worse that it's back now, just as the Chain’s arrived here. None of the worlds they came from were untouched by the Shadow, and it seemed this one was no different. 

 

That’s what I was named for ! Added Pristine as she rolled in the grass before laying on her belly, uncaring for the grass tangled in her stormcloud fur. For the first season when the moon stayed white for good. 

 

He looked at the alpha, who was in her prime, then to the younger wolves, who were only 2 years old, if that. 

 

Link hadn’t gotten much of a reprieve, it would seem. He could almost hear Legend and Time bridling with indignant protectiveness over ‘ insufficient breaks from heroing ’ already. 

 

He groaned, puddling onto the ground. I have to go, then. I already wasted too much time here if everywhere is suddenly going to be flocked with monsters . 

 

The younger wolves all howled miserably as they flopped over him, Wit surprisingly joining in to lay over his shoulders. Be careful at the castle, she warned softly. The monsters do not care about wolves the way they hunt hylians, but they’ll attack anything that wanders too near, whether it has four legs or two.  

 

He twisted and licked her ear in gratitude, washing her face until she pulled back, cueing the pack to follow. 

 

Be safe, he wished, and good hunting. Watch out for those mounted monsters again apparently, and be careful not to get too friendly with any hylians, now. 

 

We won’t! Chirred Dazzle. We know you’re special, Last-daylight, don’t worry! 

 

And then they were gone, trotting back the way they’d come and leaving Twilight alone again, the expansive, quiet fields somehow far more open than they’d been a minute ago, the midmorning sun less warm. He let himself wallow in the heartache for a moment, then turned to continue on. 

 

Just as well he was used to goodbyes. 

 

--------------------------------------------

 

He should have known better than to expect a straightforward arrival at the castle. A road had curved into view just where the hills finally sloped down, a bridge passing after all this way over the river to access the front of the keep at last. He’d angled for it, running quicker now that he had the added concern of a fresh wave of monsters, only to come across said monsters chasing a young, blonde man along the road. 

 

Could it possibly be that easy? He wondered for a moment, before realizing that there was no warmth in his mind marking the soulbonds he was so familiar with. Of course it couldn’t be so simple, though this one wasn’t exactly hero material from how he was struggling with the small pack of monsters, armed and everything and still choosing retreat.

 

Ah, duty calls, then , he thought determinedly as the man gave out another desperate shout, shifting into a hard sprint as the monsters closed in and surrounded the man even as he tried to escape. Twilight came in at an angle from behind, the man having already run up the road past the fields the wolf was coming from, headed away from the castle. He took out the trailing bokoblin with a bounding leap and gratuitous application of his teeth before shifting back into a hylian to deal with the others. 

 

The man continued to run for cover, but Twilight’s snarls and the dying boko’s cries attracted the attention of all but one monster in pursuit. They fell back, ears pinning in surprise at the spontaneous appearance of another person to prey upon, falling upon him and his readied sword with little hesitation. 

 

The hero wasted no time meeting them blade for blade, batting away the first hit easily before reversing his grip and ripping the edge of his sword part way through the bokoblin’s torso. The smaller monster howled and continued to try to grapple at him, but Twilight simply swung the whole mess of sword and boko to bear the brunt of the furious monster’s hit as it swung a vicious barbed cudgel at him. 

 

The hit silenced the boko lodged on his blade, disintegrating off the sword even as Twilight moved to twist his weapon free of its corpse. He swung his shield to parry the claws raking at his throat, the full force of the pale monster’s strike shaken off so fully by the hero’s answering shove that it staggered on the rebound. 

 

Twilight pounced on the opening, sword still trailing wisps of purple Malice smoke as he plunged it forward, hitting the looming monster hopefully through its heart, though as it continued to thrash and hiss he doubted he’d hit his mark. Twilight’s lips pursed at the black blood that poured forth as he drew back, ducking its wild flails, already watching for another opening. 

 

Infected as it was, it was hard to say whether he’d missed the heart, or if it was just taking longer to die from the added stubbornness the infection granted them. Either way, he abandoned it for now, dodging past its wet snarls to follow the man and the monster hot on his heels, still. 

 

He’d not gone far. It seemed he’d realized he had help, choosing to stand his ground rather than spread more distance between himself and the fighter who’d come to his aid. 

 

It would have been smarter, maybe, had the traveler been better himself with the sword held shakily before him. He faced the bokoblin with tenuous bravery, clumsily parrying the monster’s vicious attacks with its club, only barely managing to fend off serious injury as Twilight raced to assist. He wisely managed to circle his stand off with the monster around and duck away with a yelp, scrambling to pass the hero as he leapt in to hammer an overhead blow down and through the bokoblin’s uplifted block. 

 

That the hit didn’t kill it immediately only spoke to its infected status; regardless, it fell easily enough under the sole focus of Twilight’s impatient rage as the man shakily breathed shakily behind him, frightened but holding his sword ready nonetheless. Twilight turned to him as the bokoblin’s body began to disintegrate, scanning him over for serious injury before moving briskly past to finish off the monster he’d left injured. 

 

The man trotted at his heels, crying “Wait! Don’t just leave me he-ah!” as the last pale furred boko came into view around the corner, snarling and hissing as it bled copious darkness and hoisted its weapon waveringly, dying but not yet dead. 

 

It took longer than the others, but even so a single black-blooded monster was no match one on one for a hero. The man stayed well out of the way, but close enough that the instant the monster was down he was at Twilight’s side, nervous and jittery as he stayed adamantly near the safety the hero promised by his very presence. 

 

It was, if anything, the exact opposite reaction of the only other people Twilight had met in this world, leaving him with no idea which was the norm. “Are… you hurt?” He checked hesitantly, more for politeness’ sake than because he truly thought so. 

 

“No, no I’m fine, thanks to you,” he demurred. “I was near the castle -the blasted place was supposed to be safe to travel by, now! Except then I saw the blood moon and took shelter when I realized I wouldn’t make it to the stable in time, but I couldn’t exactly stay hidden in the park bushes forever. I thought by now the monsters would have moved off, but they caught me right away, keen-eyed bastards.” He seemed understandably upset at having been caught in so dangerous a situation, looking around for any other enemies before sheathing his sword. 

 

“I owe you one,” he said directly, propping one hand on his hip as he held the other out, blue eyes twinkling from behind long, blond bangs. “I’d never have made it all the way to the stable on my own; when I set out to check out the castle, I didn’t foresee all the monsters coming back after all this time! I’m Molo, ex treasure hunter as of today. Castle’s not worth it, not if something like this happens without warning,” he muttered to himself, frowning at the hulking capital behind him. 

 

“Twilight” He returned, shaking the man’s hand. “You were at the castle?” He asked hopefully, ears perking at some useful news, finally-

 

But Molo shook his head, and Twilight’s heart sank again. “Nah, I never made it there. I was thinking of giving it a bit of a lookover, since it's been cleared of monsters for a while now, apparently, before they really got to emptying it out for the rebuild, but I got caught out on the way by the blood moon and immediately switched course. It’s not worth dying for, and the castle at its worst was an absolute death trap, you know?” He said lightly, turning back to give the hero a conspiratorial smile that dropped right off his face at the blank terror he was met with. 

 

“I didn’t,” Twilight said softly, shocked eyes turning desperately to the castle. “I’m not from here, and my group set it as the meeting point in case we got separated.” He murmured numbly, jolting into action, striding towards the bridge leading towards the castle. “I’ve got to go make sure they’re alright-!”

 

“Woah, no you don’t!” Molo cried, grabbing the hero by the arm and getting dragged behind for a few steps until Twilight begrudgingly stopped. “Didn’t you hear me? It’s a sure fire way to die! Besides, it wasn’t exactly empty before- there were architects there who would have evacuated, and anyone would have warned off your friends. If you go there now you’re not going to find anything except your own early death! I mean, look!”

 

He pointed up at the castle, and when Twilight stared up and gave him an impatient glare, only huffed and pointed harder. “There, by the turret, see that glow?” And now that he had something more helpful to work with, he could indeed pick out a ghostly light that hadn’t been all that noticeable amongst the detail and glory of the castle before, distant but unmistakable. 

 

It wasn’t the only one, now that he was looking for them. 

 

“That’s a guardian, and no one’s ever been able to beat one but the hero. To even survive one after you’ve got its attention takes the devil’s own luck and a horse, at least, to outrun it and its lasers. They’re not all back, but there’s enough of them that you won’t make it to your friends’ meeting point.”

 

“I’m a better fighter than you think,” Twilight said stiffly. “Tell me more about these guardians, though- what’s a laser?”

 

Molo frowned at him, looking him over. “Tell you what- escort me to Woodland Stable, and I’ll fill you in on everything you’ve got to watch out for at the castle. It’s just down the road here, and you’d have had to wait to listen to me talk anyways.” He waved his hands as Twilight made to object, hip cocking as he ducked his head self consciously. 

 

“I’m not trying to just be a jerk,” he said earnestly, blue eyes guileless. “There’s a monster camp alongside the road going there, and I’m not sure I can make it past on my own. Besides, the stables are hubs of information; if your friends headed away from the castle and followed a road, they’d end up at one of them for sure. Info takes time to travel, but less than you’d expect. If anyone has any information, it would be someone there.” 

 

Truth.  

 

It sounded like the smart option for sure, the logic irrefutable, but even so it was only the professed danger Molo would have been in on his own that stopped Twilight from charging onwards to the castle regardless, information or not. Grudging as he was to waste anymore time - and gods, now he could see exactly how lackadaisical he’d been this last day, dammit all - when the Chain’s lives could be on the line, even he wasn’t hard headed enough to say no to valuable information on their whereabouts. 

 

Nothing would be worse than risking his life for nothing and finding out later that he could have avoided the whole snafu by taking a little time to stop by the stable. Better to do footwork on the front end then shed blood needlessly.

 

Twilight breathed out hard through his nose. “Fine, but we’re moving fast, you got it?” He leveled one of his more fearsome glares at the other, aware of how his rather barbaric dress and tattoos looked when matched with a reflective-eyed thousand yard stare. Then he turned and started to jog, agitation eased when Molo fell in behind him without complaint. 

 

He didn’t keep them running long; Molo was fit, but not fit enough to talk while keeping pace with an anxious hero. It ground at his patience, but after a few minutes he let them slow to a walk and Molo began to frame out what the red moon did, so far as most people understood and what, exactly, guardians were here.

 

They weren’t the most aptly named enemies, as it turned out. 

 

Hulking robotic spiders that shot long-range murderous lasers and could nearly keep pace with a galloping horse. The means of defeating them weren’t even known, since no one could survive direct combat with them long enough to have a hope; if the first hit didn’t kill you, it left you crippled enough to be doomed anyways. And the castle had apparently been swarmed with them, stationary and moving and apparently flying ones, inside and in the fields outside the walls as well. 

 

A death trap indeed, though many things a hero encountered day to day were for the average traveler. 

 

The first sign of civilization came in the form of ruins, again, because in this world of course it did. They were different from the ruins Twilight had first seen upon arriving. Those had been stone walls, too large and open to be housing, but these-

 

This marked a village, wooden homes decimated, lives torn apart by something Twilight couldn’t understand. He walked through it silently, noting it was as old as all the other skeletons of society by the collapse and rot of the beams. The curling fog of early morning softened the sorrow of the destruction even as it lent the whole site an eerie feeling of things unseen. 

 

It wasn’t much smaller than Ordon was, and it was only too easy to imagine his hometown facing a similar fate had his adventure gone differently. He shook the nauseating thought away, forcing it down near the growing fear for his brothers and general uneasiness at what awaited him after this blood moon .

 

Past the ruins and farther down the road, Twilight could see another of the odd horse-head structures; the inns, it seemed, were actually stables, for all that they’d seemed more inclined to housing travelers than horses. He was wary of entering another one after the first had such… disarming results, especially if information traveled as well as Molo had claimed. 

 

But he’d done nothing wrong then, and he wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity to learn about his brothers’ whereabouts and fates just because he’d had an uncomfortable conversation somewhere similar. They were nearly upon it when he caught wind of the monster camp Molo had been concerned about, right along the road as he’d promised but empty of any enemies. 

 

Twilight drew his sword and wandered through it anyways for appearances sake, even though he could already tell it was free of any Malice-ridden beasts. By the scent, these were the same monsters he’d defeated saving Molo, having wandered from their camp to hunt down any wandering travelers caught in exactly his unfortunate plight after the moon hit. Twilight turned a flat look towards the other, gesturing wordlessly at the empty, harmless camp around him, and Molo muttered an apology, flushing as he turned away to continue on, though even now he didn’t dare wander far from the armed hylian. 

 

That reminder of how genuinely afraid the other had been and still was, more than anything, made what little irritation Twilight had gathered together disappear. The stable was right on ahead, within sight only a few paces after leaving the monster camp behind. He wondered at the proximity, but held his tongue for now, Molo jogging forward to call a greeting to the stablemaster - not an innkeeper, as Twilight had been told with a poorly withheld smile.

 

(“At least you didn’t say it to his face,” Molo had laughed. “Though they’re usually pretty friendly; I’m surprised Sprinn didn’t correct you or fill you in himself.”

 

Twilight’s ears pinned back. “He wasn’t. Friendly, that is. I don’t know what was wrong, but they were scared of me, and directed me around behind the castle when I asked directions.” He growled. “If they hadn’t, maybe I’d have made it there before your blood moon hit.”

 

“Scared?” Molo echoed, scanning Twilight. “I mean, you look intimidating, sure, but the only travelers worth being afraid of generally are- “ His eyes landed over Twilight’s shoulder. “Ah, your bow?”

 

“My- this?” Twilight pulled it off, holding the odd little thing in one hand. “I was attacked on the road after I arrived, and they left this behind. It’s not mine, er- that is, it is now- ”

 

Molo quirked a smile, tossing his head to clear his bangs from his eyes. “You don’t know what guardians are, or the blood moon is, so I’m just going to take a guess- have you heard of the Yiga?” His tone said he already knew the answer. 

 

Twilight sent him a semi-playful frown. 

 

“No, I didn’t think so. But that might have been the problem. Tell me, did he ask you at any point if you liked bananas? And did you say anything remotely positive in reply?”

 

“No? Though I do have some now. They were left behind by the person after they -” Twilight flicked his fingers “-poof, vanished.”

 

Molo’s mouth quirked oddly, eyes bright with humor as he ruefully shook his head. “Yeah, he thought you were Yiga. Asking after the castle, too? No wonder he directed you around back. Sprinn’s not the bravest one out there, so he’d never have called you out if he suspected you. Never fear, though, I’ll set this lot straight if they share the same worries.” 

 

“Oh? And how were you so sure?” Twilight asked wryly, eyeing a flock of chittering little sparrows as they sprang into the air before the walking pair in a spray of bright blue and yellow feathers. 

 

“Once you confront them they attack, first of all, which is why Sprinn didn’t say anything. That, and they aren’t ever attacked by monsters. You’d never have saved me if you were Yiga, and nothing else about you would make sense either. Don’t worry, Twilight! I won’t let those scoundrels at the Serenne Stables malign your reputation any longer!” He called, and ran them forward once more.

 

Twilight barked a laugh, and followed.)

 

This stable was busier than the last had been, though swarming with the sharp tang of fear and uneasiness as the pair approached at a trot. 

 

At least this time it didn’t seem directed at him.

 

“Molo!” the stablemaster called, flinging himself against the counter, looking half a second from leaping over it. “Gods above, we thought you were done for!”

 

Molo laughed and ran to hug the man over the wood between them, clapping him on the back. “No, no, well- almost, maybe. I don’t know if it was bad luck that a blood moon hit just when I finally brave the castle, or if it was good luck Twilight was there to save my ass from the monsters that caught me out.”

 

The stablemaster kept a hand on Molo’s shoulder, wryly replying “It can be both, you know,” before looking over him at the hero walking calmly up to the stable. “You saved- ah, it’s you ,” he said, tone dropping as Twilight got close enough to make out the details of his face and the markings they’d likely been warned about. “Molo?” The man asked, tipping his head as he watched Twilight, wary but not outright afraid, not yet. 

 

“Nah, it was a misunderstanding on Sprinn’s part. He’s alright, but first things first- have you heard anything on a group of travelers meeting at the castle?”

 

The man ignored Molo. “I’m Kish,” he said over the other man’s sputtering.”Glad to hear you’re not Yiga, and even gladder that you were willing to help Molo get out of the trouble he’d wandered into.” He too, extended a hand for Twilight to shake. “Anyways, Beedle just passed through, and though he didn’t stay long to talk there was a hylian who arrived at the shrine by the Wetland Stable before making for the castle yesterday.”

 

Twilight leveled an accusing stare at Molo, before turning his burning gaze on Kish. “Do you know anything more, about him or any of the others? I had seven companions, if I could figure out which one… just, do you-?” 

 

Kish’s eyes drifted skyward as he recounted the information. “He was older than you, but he had markings on his face as well. Went by Time? He had plate armor too, which was odd. Didn’t fare too well through the shrine, but must have recovered fine if they let him go to the castle. Of course, that was before the blood moon made its appearance.”

 

Twilight paled. “He was there when all the monsters and guardians came back?” He whirled on Molo, grabbing his elbow so quickly the other startled, though he didn’t try to pull free as Twilight gave him a careful jostle. “You said there would have been people there to get him to leave, how sure are you?” His voice was low and insistent, hazel eyes pleading desperately enough that the man felt more sympathy than fear even as he was manhandled, the softer edges of the scent no comfort to Twilight. 

 

Kish answered, though, blue eyes flitting down to his grip on the man before meeting eyes with Molo to check he wasn’t alarmed. “Bolson and his crew would have been there, if not the princess as well. They’re a good lot, and would do their best to clear your friend out before midnight brought everything back. If he’s an ounce of sense, he wouldn’t still be there.” 

 

Twilight felt some of the agitation ease; Time was by far the most sensible of all of them, and if any hero was going to see reason it would be him. There was no quieting the undercurrent of fear at the insistent what if , but the desperate edge of urgency at least was dulled from pure recklessness. Molo felt the grip on his arm ease, and rested his other hand over Twilight’s in reassurance. 

 

Kish leaned forward too, voice gentle despite the stress at the corner of his eyes. “Listen, there’s only two roads out of the castle; that means your friend would have ended up at Serenne, eventually, or back at the Wetland Stable, which is just a little farther down the road. I’d check with them first, then Serenne. Risking the castle should be last resort, if even that.” He leaned back, shaking his head. “The only thing you’d recover there is his body, and you’d never make it out with it. Best leave them to rest there until Link can clear them out again, otherwise all you’ll be doing is leaving your group with one more friend to mourn.”

 

And Twilight just- couldn’t. Couldn’t imagine a world in which Time was just gone , dead, before this quest was even done. Not in the middle of a great fight, but only caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. The concept couldn’t fit, couldn’t find hold in his mind, because it was too large, too horrific for him to consider without shying away. 

 

It would devastate the others, destroy Malon,  would wreck everything good that they had, and it wouldn’t even be Dark Link’s machinations that had done it. A fluke couldn’t be what killed Time, because the Old Man was just… steady, always there, ever the strong one. The Chain endured plenty of chaos, but of all of them Time was the only one who could forever be depended on to be calm. He wouldn’t risk staying at the castle, not the way any of the others would have. He wasn’t proud, or reckless, or fatally instinctive the way the others could be under stress. 

 

Which means Twilight had to use his brain now, too. Everyone was insisting the castle was a death trap, and while they were surely underestimating his fighting prowess as a full-fledged hero in his own right, the fact remained that the Chain often struggled with the unfamiliar monsters of other worlds. These guardians didn’t sound like the kind of enemy to face without any room for error or clue as to tactics; hell, there could even be a specific item needed that he’d be screwed without. 

 

So on to the Wetland Stables, then, and all he could do was hope Time was there so he didn’t have to worry about him and they could plan what to do next. Twilight had gone his whole adventure with naught for company or guidance but Midna, but he’d grown complacent with the Chain; not that they had a formal chain of command, but if they did he’d still have fallen under Time, Warriors, and Sky at least, likely on level with Legend only because the other loathed the responsibility even if he was bossy as hell. 

 

Twilight was happy to follow; he trusted their judgement, and knew they listened to critique when the less command-oriented heroes had some to offer.

 

“And the others?” He asked hopefully, heart sinking as Kish tipped his head in thought before shaking it. “Nothing?”

 

“Not that I’ve heard, which could simply mean that they landed farther off. Talk travels fast, but Hyrule’s not small. If they arrived at the same time as your friend, two days ago, the news could very well just not have reached us yet. Though Link flits around quick as you please, of course; if it's something to do with the shrines, I’d have guessed he’d be checking in.”

 

Twilight frowned. “I’ve heard he’s hard to locate; him moving around so much is part of the problem, then?”

 

Kish nodded. “It certainly is, but I don’t know how else he’d stay on top of the monsters all by himself in a kingdom this size. We used to have an army before the Calamity, but there’s no centralized power at the moment to even hope to organize more than rudimentary clearing expeditions large enough not to be suicide runs. I mean, there’s a monster camp just up the road from here that’ll need dealing with eventually, but here on the outskirts with nothing past it of importance but the Lost Woods, we’re low on the priorities.” 

 

Twilight squinted where the finger was pointing, the T of the intersection continuing on, had they turned left rather than right towards the stable they were at now. “How far off is it? Are you in danger of them coming to attack?” Already he was trying to juggle the time it would take to clear a monster camp against tracking down Time and the others in a world more dangerous than he’d realized. 

 

But Molo was shaking his head, and Kish giving a tired wave of his hand. “We’ll be fine; Malanya protects the stables, even if the monsters were to wander down. They never have before, though. You don’t have to worry yourself, Twilight. We survived with it there long before the hero came the first time to wipe it out, and we can handle it now.” 

 

Molo piped in, tone dry. “Besides, it's less a monster camp like we passed on the way here than an entire encampment; you’re a good fighter, but you’d be hard-pressed to take on that many monsters at once and come out alive. Best just to leave them be, and focus on finding your friends. We’ll be fine, I promise. Your hard work getting me here safe and sound won’t be for nothing,” he joked gently. 

 

Twilight hesitated, the part of him honed to saving those in need buzzing unhappily, but they weren’t lying just to convince him to leave; they truly believed what they were saying. “Alright,” he agreed slowly, torn. “Can you show me the way to Wetland, then?”

 

The path was simple, though farther than he’d hoped. “It’s only a few hours on horseback, but unless you want to go catch one you’ll need to go on foot,” Kish said regretfully. “The horses are keyed to their riders or those with permission, and I’ve nothing for you, unfortunately. It’s one of Malanya’s quirks, and there’s nothing I can do about it.” 

 

Twilight frowned, but he’d already run here; his wolf form wasn’t quite as fast as a horse, but it was better than he could admit in front of them. Molo looked like he’d let Twilight down. “I’d give you mine if I had one, but, ah, I never got the hang of taming them, unfortunately.” 

 

Kish side-eyed him with a devious smirk. “You never got the hang of catching them, Lolo. Couldn’t sneak up on one for the life of you.” Molo let out a cry of betrayal, and Twilight smiled as he shook his head. 

 

“I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless,” he told the man. “I’ll be fine- I’m faster than you think when I’ve good cause. Stay safe, and thank you again for all your help. I’d have been lost without you,” he admitted, and felt his heart warm affectionately at the answering smiles even as the regret burned at leaving them with the monster encampment looming over their heads. 

 

“If I can, I’ll be back with my group, and we’ll help you with the monsters up the road,” he promised desperately, because he knows the Chain would agree in a heartbeat, even if these people hadn’t helped Twilight out. 

 

Kish shook his head. “Just focus on finding your friends, Twilight, and leave the saving for the hero. Now go on, before any of them have time to do something as stupid as you almost did!”

 

Twilight grimaced. “Gods, you just jinxed us all,” he complained, before turning to the road. 

 

It was time to get some answers and save some heroes.

Notes:

Me, writing where Twi wakes up: This wasn’t a cold, wet, dank little hole in the ground. No, this was a hobbit hole, warm and cozy and WAIT

Twilight in a heavy southern accent: I work with wild animals for a livin’… but some mustangs can’t be tamed by man or god
*In the background the spinner, unmanned, whirls in a circle upon the ground before flipping upside down and rumbling wildly about, the Chain skittering clear of its rampage*

Every other Link: fighting for their gd lives just to escape their drop point
Twilight: *literally running around in the wilderness for 2 days straight* huh the castle sure does look sus from the back that’s a little weird

Twi, carrying bananas and a Yiga bow: Well hi there! :) Where’s the hero? And can I get directions to the castle, too?
Serenne stable folk: Oh my god the Yiga are up to shit again we gotta find Link
*Blood moon the next night*
Serene stable staff: Oh mY GOD FUCK THEY REVIVED GANON SHIT

Twilight sees Stable Dogs: *rubbing bellies and tussling their ears* Hello my darlings, here’s a treat! How about a hug before I go?
Twilight sees wild wolves: get over here you piece of shit and let me sit on you and lick your face

Kish: Only a fool would have stayed at the castle
Twilight: Oh thank god
Time: *vibrating with near-maximum fool energy*

Me: *Adds a fox and a wolf pack for fun*
Also Me: *gets violently attached to Berry, Dazzle, Midnight, Wit and Pristine* oh hell THAT happened quick

Me: *uses very basic NPCs from BotW game*
Also Me: *gets violently attached to Molo and Kish- YOU GET IT I CAN'T HELP MYSELF

To anyone who was really looking forward to Twilight getting wreck’d like all the others, I’m really sorry, but the plan was always to have him running around unharmed. Our heroes are good at what they do, and Twi was plopped in a fairly harmless location; he was never going to have the same struggles as everyone else, especially since he’s so magically deafened that the portal jump and blood moon don’t do much to him. After Legend’s shitshow of an ordeal, I hope it didn’t come off as too boring. Hope you guys weren’t disappointed, heheh

The stable scene is very much a case of unreliable narrator b/c Twi has no idea what it was, and the stablemaster wasn’t being very polite as he thought he was Yiga. So he’s a) lying about Wild regularly popping in to make sure the monster camp and ruins nearby are cleared out, and b) gave directions that were as minimally useful as he thought he could get away with without being killed for it later. The guy who rode off was going to warn the other stables/people to try to find Wild and let him know the Yiga are doing something sus at the castle tonight. Meanwhile, the Yiga just teleport via magic to the hero by means of a spell keyed to a specific kind of goddess magic; so any of the heroes could have been ambushed (except Wind, safe inside Kakariko’s talismans). The Yiga are just as confused; since when are there more than one heroes to worry about?

Yes, this means Twi’s the one who feels the most like Wild, magic wise. Also boosted by the fact that to the Yiga’s tracking spell his transformation to and from a wolf flickers his presence very similarly to Wild’s when he’s using the slate transport; they’re not the same at /all/, but on a very basic level they feel similar enough to fool the Yiga. No, they cannot sense him while he’s a wolf, or teleport to him at that point.

Twilight can generally pick up on straight up malicious lies, but small harmless ones tend to slip by. What he’s really sensing is nervous/strong emotion scent indicators in sweat, so if someone was a really cool customer and tricking them he may not realize it either. So far as the Serenne stablemaster went, poor guy was nervous as hell with this presumed Yiga asking him to help in whatever dark scheme they’d come up with, so he gave Twi nothing past the fact that he was afraid and nervous. Twilight can, of course, always tell when one of the Chain is lying, by virtue of the soulbond’s input paired with his own sensory advantages and animal instinct.

Chapter 14: Look Alive! No. No, More Alive Than That.

Summary:

Twilight finally gets clued in that things have indeed been going poorly for everyone else and gets to play catch up on all the rampant worry and concern he’s been slacking on all at once.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Vomiting, Seizures, Illness, Graphic Depictions of Violence/Medical Violence (Resetting Bones)

Time Until Wild Contact: 1 Day, 22 hours
Chapter Spans: Only about 4 hours or so
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 10

Twilight jogged southward down the road, senses attuned sharply to picking out the bokoblin he’d been warned had regularly spawned roadside during blood moons of the past and offered to take out. He saw it long before it noticed him, sulking in front of a fire just far enough off the road to take travelers by surprise. The Rancher didn’t even bother with stealth; he wasn’t worried about a single bokoblin and he had somewhere far more important to be as soon as possible. 

 

Still, there could maybe have been a little more finesse than the blatant dead ass sprint he went with. 

 

Considering he made no attempt to hide his approach, he made it surprisingly close before the monster turned at the sound of pounding feet and immediately grabbed up its own weapons to meet him with a cry. Twilight swiveled and darted around the tree with it in hot pursuit as he drew his sword in one smooth motion, digging his free hand into the bark to swing around its trunk at nearly full speed. He circled it far faster than the bokoblin, coming up behind its back with a slicing hit aimed to sever the spine. The monster caught on fast, twisting to block the worst of his surprise strike but it was no match for a harried hero who wasn’t bothering to hold back. The first hit sent its clumsily raised weapon to the side, dragging the rest of its body into a stagger with the force of the blow, and the second was a two handed downward strike as it reeled, utterly defenseless. 

 

The blood that splattered to the ground was black, because of course it was . 

 

Its furious cries were cut off with another downward stab after deftly dodging a surprisingly close hit from its slashing claws that would have done some actual damage had they landed across his shins. Twilight waited a moment for it to disintegrate, ears pivoting for any other signs of danger as he wiped his blade clean. But there was only the one, as Kish had said, and he wasted no more time before plunging onward, shifting into a wolf smoothly as soon as he was sure he wouldn’t be seen from the stable, long practice letting him do it even as he ran, a hylian’s bipedal stride falling smoothly forward into the wolf’s four-legged gallop in a shower of shadowy shards. 

 

Down the road, across the bridge, follow the path through the rocky hills, why the hell is this Hyrule so damned huge . Twilight ran himself hard, feeling every second pound by to the drumming of his paws on the harsh dirt road and the harshness of his breath as he forced himself to keep going, to be faster, stronger-

 

But he couldn’t sprint the whole way, of course, and after two hours of pushing himself to his limits he was forced down to an unsteady trot, muscles burning and gasping jaggedly as he determinedly continued. It was impossible to tell how much of the tightness in his chest and hammering of his heart was the brutal exertion and how much was the grip of panic that grew with every minute that dragged by, the others who-knows-where possibly fighting guardians whilst he was here doing nothing helpful. 

 

The wolf fell back into a run, strides clumsy and exhausted doggedly continuing on regardless, pale eyes blazing as watched the path ahead. The now-familiar arch of the stables’ horse decoration was just coming into view when he smelt the familiar malice scent of a boko on the wind, the monster itself openly roaming the field alongside the road atop a horse, waiting to attack any travelers making their way towards the respective stables it connected. 

 

That was two on just one stretch of road, and the hero felt something protective and indignant rise within him as he realized just how hard it was for the people of this kingdom to travel safely at all. It was the blood moon, he knew, trusting this world’s Link to have it handled otherwise, but the thought that it was this dangerous everywhere, and with so little warning… 

 

Some travelers had horses, but even Molo had been on foot, and the thought of him trying once more to flee a mounted bokoblin, the monster easily circling round and firing arrow after arrow- 

 

He refused to tolerate any such threat to innocents.

 

In the same manner as all the monsters in this world, the bokoblin paid the wolf no attention. 

 

Twilight didn’t return the favor. 

 

His lips drew back to bare vicious teeth, and his mane bristled, his already alarming countenance growing that much more fearsome with his rage as he plunged into a run, approaching behind the stallion and snarling a warning as he drew close.  Taken by surprise both by the wolf having been downwind and the inherent dampening effect of the monster on its back, the image of a furious wolf barrelling towards it with bloodlust in its eyes proved very much enough to send the stallion skittering back with a startled shriek and kicking up its heels, falling over itself to avoid his very visible wrath and get the hell out of dodge. The bokoblin was left to fall victim to Twilight’s jaws, black blooded and furious but not fast enough to do more than skim him with an arrow before he had a killing grip once more.

 

Infected or not, individual bokoblins from any world were easy pickings to either of his forms.

 

Fur bristling as he forced his aching legs back into a slow lope, he snapped his teeth vainly at the air to rid them of the vile, acidic burn of the infected blood, growling frustratedly as rain began to fall around him. It quickly transitioned into a steady downpour as he entered the rainstorm in full, ruining whatever chance he’d had of tracking Time. Down the road already streaming with water, the stable’s lights could be dimly made out through the blur of rain, and he begrudgingly gave up his waterproof fur for hylian legs. 

 

The water soaked his hair in seconds; though the pelt over his shoulders kept his core dry and warm enough. At least he didn’t have to worry about looking suspiciously dry, he thought resignedly as water collected on his eyelashes, sputtering indignantly as a gust of wind slapped water over his face. 

 

As if he wasn’t already in a hurry to get to the stable, geez. He tugged the pelt more closely around him and ran for cover, noting as he passed it the bridge branching right that would lead to the castle. 

 

Stable first, though- it was just past the crossroads, and he couldn't bear the thought of missing Time by such a narrow margin by panicking and heading to the castle. The Old Man had to be there; by all accounts, it was the most reasonable place to wait in this world where their usual meeting location was apparently a death trap crawling with strange, murderous machines. 

 

So Twilight continued past it, anxiety twisting uncomfortably in his gut as he did. He nearly slipped in the mud as he ducked under the tent flaps, the stablemaster leaning his head out into the outer portion of the entry desk as he neared only long enough to wave him inside, the wind blowing hard enough that its roof was no protection against the rain gusting in through the open sides to soak the wooden counter. The Rancher shook the worst of the water from his hair, out of breath and trembling from exhaustion, before looking up to meet the myriad of gazes taking him in. 

 

Crap.  

 

In an instant Twilight knew Time wasn’t among them- he could make out some of the familiar scent here, but it was older. The Old Man had been gone for hours, at least, which meant Twilight was nowhere near as close to catching up as he’d hoped. His stomach sunk, dread creeping through his veins. 

 

If he wasn’t here… then where could he be, save for the castle?

 

The stablemaster’s eyes skimmed over his forehead before meeting his distracted gaze evenly, frowning as he drew a towel from under the counter and offered it to the dripping hylian, something softening at the lost look on the Rancher’s face. “Ho there, traveler. Can we offer you a meal and a bed? The rain doesn’t look like it’ll be letting up anytime soon.”

 

Twilight took the towel unconsciously, sending the man a gracious smile even as his eyes remained stressed.  “Thank you, but I’m going to be heading out again soon- I’m looking for Time,” he said with a hopeful uptilt, head tipping in an unspoken question. He didn’t realize it, but his eyes also widened in something like a puppy-dog plea, completely unconscious but no less effective for it. 

 

Except, the mood in the tent shifted at the name, unease and curiosity giving way to something like guilt and pity- better than suspicion, but he felt sick at it all the same. His ears pinned back uneasily, expression freezing as he braced himself for whatever had the stablemaster’s amicable smile dropping to a regretful grimace. “I was afraid you’d say that,” the man admitted unhappily, and it was only the fact that he clearly knew something more that stopped Twilight from running right back out into the rain and straight to the castle, advice be damned- it’s not like it had done him any good yet anyways. 

 

But… if this stablemaster -Lawdon, Molo had told him whilst giving directions- had anything to stop Twilight from running the wrong way again, he had to know, even if that really didn’t bode well at all.

 

Twilight forced himself to turn away from the entrance and face Lawdon head on, fighting down the urge to hurry, rush, what if they need me? And carefully taking a measured breath. “I know he was here earlier, just- can you tell me where he went? I’d hoped to catch up to him, yet…” He said uneasily, tensing as the other visibly braced himself to deliver bad news. 

 

“Another member of his group, then?” Twilight nodded slowly, lips pursed and trepidation in the set of his shoulders. Lawdon shook his head, frowning apologetically. “You missed him by about a day. He went to the castle despite our warnings;  we hadn’t yet realized it would be a rogue blood moon.” 

 

Twilight was silent, heart shivering, and the man hurried on- “There hadn’t been one in ages, otherwise we’d never have let him leave for there, but… there’s people at the castle who would have checked on their way out and warned him to go, and even if he did seem the stubborn sort to have headed there in the first place, he didn’t strike me as a complete fool to stay and face certain de-” He cut himself off, realizing that maybe wasn’t the best thing to say, looking away as Twilight stared hopelessly at him, lips parted and ears pinned back in fear. 

 

So Time had been there after all, at the most dangerous location in this entire kingdom at the worst possible time he could have been, because of course he would. Twilight was an idiot for not realizing sooner, for not considering Time’s perspective at all. Of course the Old Man went upon hearing what could await there; he did it for the same damned reason Twilight was: he would never risk them facing anything alone, for whoever among the Chain may have missed the warnings. 

 

Shit, this was bad, this was -

 

No, wait . Maybe it wasn’t- 

 

The Rancher shook himself from the instinctive urge to panic, forcing himself to look at the bigger picture. No, this may be for the better; if any of the others had also managed to make it to the default meeting point of the castle, that means Time would have met them there, and he’d never have let them risk themselves being so outnumbered and trapped. 

 

The castle would have been clear of the worst of the monster before the blood moon; he has to trust that Time could handle any trouble he met. Now he just had to pray that all the people here were right about there being someone at the castle to have warned them as midnight approached; Twilight certainly hadn’t known what the crimson moon meant, would have stayed unto his death there without realizing something was wrong until it was too late. 

 

He could only hope they were wiser than him. 

 

“Thank you,” he began softly, stepping forward to lay the sodden towel back on the counter before shifting towards the tent flaps once more. 

 

“Wait!” The stablemaster said urgently, pressing up against the counter. “You can’t follow him- the hero just went after them anyways, you can trust him to handle it! Time said he was experienced; if he stayed and survived, if there’s any chance of him making it out alive, Link will do it. There’s no reason to die trying or make it harder for them by adding another victim to the mix,” he implored, voice stern, reasonable. 

 

Pleading, almost.

 

His words had the opposite effect they’d intended, though. Twilight twisted back, ears twisting flat in terror. “ Link’s heading there too? Alone, where the monsters and guardians you’ve all warned us of are waiting?” He said insistently, dread crushing down harder still. He let his jaw drop a little, taking in the scents, trying to parse which was this world’s Link’s. There was one that was fresh, still, thought the origin was absent- crisp and cool, like pine needles and campfire smoke. 

 

Already, a seed of warmth buried itself in Twilight’s heart, and he committed the scent to memory, even if it wouldn't serve him at all in the storm outside. 

 

Lawdon reached a hand towards Twilight; palm out, a silent request to stop. “Please, don’t make it any harder for him than this already is,” he said lowly, dark eyes pleading and scent sharpening in something like fear.

 

Not of Twilight, though. There was something unsaid here, and it was important . 

 

The Rancher stared at Lawdon expectantly, eyes flinty as he pointedly waited, silently demanding an answer. The stablemaster’s hand dropped to fiddle with a glass, guilt joining the fear in the air, and not just from him. “Look, Link will save your friend, it’s just- he wasn’t… he was recovering, still, when he left.”

 

Recovering?  

 

“What.” Twilight said softly, pupils contracting as adrenaline flooded through his veins, every muscle tensing. Their newest brother, hurt? Badly enough to be unable to hide it, or treat it even, and still heading straight into the worst place in his kingdom for the sake of the Chain he’d not even met yet?

 

The man winced in dismay at his reaction and opened his mouth, a lie already in his scent, and Twilight was gone before any more time could be wasted here. 

 

He knew where he had to go. 

 

----------------------------------------------

 

The good thing about the rain was that  it was coming down thick enough to hide his near-immediate jump into wolf form, plunging onto the muddy road as he followed the mental map he’d been shown at the Woodland Stable. 

 

Fury and guilt thrummed through him, his body flattening out as he pushed himself faster, trying desperately to make up for wasted time, goddess, had he done anything right since he got here? He’d done nothing but mess up, it seemed, and if it had caused any harm at all to Link or Time or any of the others, Twilight doesn’t know what he’ll do. 

 

He should have been there. Should have rushed straight to the castle, risked the moat, been there at midnight to help face whatever horrors awaited whichever heroes had been faster than him.

 

Fuck , he shouldn’t have stopped now, even, shouldn’t have wasted time, even as a quieter part of him whispered that it would have saved trouble and grief if either Time or Link had been there. 

 

It was no comfort now , not when it had proved a futile endeavor and an utter waste where none could be afforded. 

 

So Twilight ran frantically on, fresh fear letting him push through the exhaustion of the many miles already endured. Even if Time had left, even if the castle had been evacuated - please, please let that have been so, Hylia if you hear me - Link was still headed into danger, and- and-

 

Injured, or sick, or at least bad enough off that Lawdon had been worried. Oh, he’d been honest when he said Link could still save Time if there was any chance of doing so; even admittedly bad off, the stablemaster believed in the other’s competence. But he’d been wary of any further hindrances, aware that Link was only human still, worried enough to use it as a means to hold Twilight back even though he certainly looked tough enough himself. Heroes were hardy buggers, and for one to be so poorly that they couldn’t hide it- 

 

He was afraid of what that entailed. 

 

And so he raced down the road, determined and weary and far, far too late already. Twilight may have been warned off and judged it too dangerous himself, but there was a world of difference between running in all alone and providing back up for a hero who knew what he was doing against the enemies. So long as he can catch Link, they can look together, hopefully, or at least make sure the castle took no further casualties. 

 

He mentally ticked off the landmarks that proved he was on the right path, taking a left onto the bridge at the tall stone pillar. There was a cluster of monster remains, there, a horn and an odd organ, pulsing in a shallow puddle as he passed. Twilight sped up as much as he could; he didn’t know how long such things lingered, but surely the yet-moving organ must be fresh, the lack of hoof prints the fault of the lashing downpour. Another right at a fork, and he raced along with what had to be Hyrule Field to his left, senses straining through the heavy rain for any sign of the hero ahead. 

 

In the end he need not have worried about missing him, though: as Twilight raced up the road a warm recognition blossomed in his mind, a sensation he knew seven times over.

 

A soulbond settled gently into place, and for the first time in days Twilight suddenly wasn’t alone out here any more. 

 

He slid to a halt, head swiveling to face trees as he immediately pinpointed Link’s direction from him, leaving a deeply furrowed path behind him as he practically sat down from how hard he dug his heels into the mud. He twisted and leapt off the path, following the rain-faded hoofprints lingering in the grassy mud where the scattered trees had shielded them from the worst of the downpour. He wasn’t far into the forest -more of an apple orchard gone wild, though, it seemed- that he spotted a mare whose markings weren’t familiar but whose rider’s soul was, resonating with Twilight’s own as he approached. 

 

Epona, and atop her, Link. 

 

( Cedarwood and lavender in a cool, calming lure towards rest- slipping peacefully below the waterline to the rippling silence underneath- enduring the chill whilst packing a snowball, smiling wide- )

 

He froze, steps stuttering a stop. 

 

Her mane still glowed as his own iteration’s did, even if she didn’t bear the same stark, near unnatural markings. She was smaller, too; as he stood, Twilight’s shoulder would likely be on level with her belly, pricked ears of a height with Link’s knees. She was still powerfully built though, a good mix of endurance and maneuverability in the conformation of her body and set of her legs. Already, her ears flicked towards him as she looked his way, warm eyes turning fearlessly towards him as she looped the tree at a walk to head his way where he was frozen in horror, eyes fixed not on her but on the figure barely staying atop her back.

 

Recovering , Lawdon had said, and Twilight felt a helpless rush of rage at the understatement. Link was not alright, not at all , and he couldn’t believe that Lawdon had let the hero leave the stable to run into danger, not when he looked like this .  

 

Link was slumped in the saddle, barely keeping upright despite Epona’s slow, even gait, and seemingly unaware of her deviation from wherever they’d been heading before she spotted Twilight. His head was lolling forward, body nearly listing to the side before the mare rolled her step a little to help him correct, eyes half lidded and lips parted as he stared down blankly at her luminous mane. He hadn’t yet noticed Twilight there, nor the nonsensical route his horse was taking, his semi-conscious state rendering him frightfully oblivious to his surroundings. 

 

Oh good, a hero , Epona whuffed urgently as she tossed her head up, younger than he’d expected and blatantly relieved at his arrival. She was clearly no less blessed than her other incarnations by Hylia’s wisdom, somehow recognizing him for what he truly was, wolf form or not.  Help him , she demanded, visibly concerned as Link leaned precariously atop her, turning dark, liquid eyes pleadingly to Twilight. Something is wrong . 

 

And something certainly was. Even now, Link only blinked blankly at him, brilliant blue eyes sliding in and out of focus painfully. The rain left his long hair slicked to his skin, face pale and gaunt in the windblown cold. Burn scars stood out brutally along his face and neck, reddened by the chill and angry against the alabaster paleness of his cheeks, vicious and far too old for someone who didn’t look out of his teens yet. He was surely young enough to be somewhere near Hyrule’s age, leaving him at the lower end of the range in the Chain and doing nothing to quell the howling urge to protect that was raging within Twilight. 

 

His eyes glided over Twilight, chin lifting for a moment in hesitation, before he sighed and slumped back into the barely upright posture of before, eyes drooping down to slowly blink at him, seeming to lack the energy to muster any concern for the large wolf before him. A particularly rough blast of wind left him curling a little tighter, clearly miserable and not wholly aware of what was happening around him. 

 

He was in no shape to be roaming around in a rainstorm, and certainly going abso-fucking-lutely nowhere near that castle like this. Twilight edged closer, wary of scaring the other, but Link only stared blankly at him, utterly at ease. 

 

Maybe it was due to the bond between them, but Twilight doubted it- now that they were right beside one another, it felt weak in a way that could only be because of Link’s current delirious state, the fragility betraying how bad off the other hero was that his mind and spirit were worn so thin. Oh, his soul was warm, still, and good and comforting and settled right where it belonged, but there was something indefinable blaring within Twilight’s mind that something was wrong , and he was utterly unequipped to diagnose it when the connection was something he could only barely read and hardly ever successfully interact with.

 

His worried thoughts were interrupted by an expectant mare nosing in his direction. Why are you waiting , Epona said impatiently, shifting and stomping a hind foot as she glanced unhappily back at Link, listless and silent. Come on, help him. You’re a hero- fix him! She insisted, watching in disbelief as Twilight sunk down harmlessly onto his belly, her anxious shifting doing her ailing rider no favors. 

 

I’m going to! Just give me a minute to figure out what’s wrong with him, he yipped defensively, tail waving gently as he doggy grinned at the dazed hero of this world.  I’m a wolf right now, I can’t just go jumping at him! 

 

I don’t know that he’d care if you did even at his best, soulbound as you are and all, she said flatly, all but rolling her eyes at his prostration but relaxing enough at his promise that the curiosity hidden by her worry started to show through. Clearly, she could sense enough about him to know he was another iteration of the hero’s spirit, and she seemed quietly enraptured by the thought, stretching her head carefully forward to sniff at him whilst trying not to shift her already unsteady rider. Twilight was abruptly reminded of the wolf pack’s curiosity at his shape-shifting; not only was he likely the first shapeshifter she’d ever met, but also another reincarnation of her own hero. 

 

He spared a moment to consider her; less gentle than his own Epona, but still not as fiery as Time’s. Twilight had never had the opportunity to speak with Warriors’s mare, but while Epona stared into the woods with the same suspicious, ready-to-tussle eagerness, there was something distinctly wild to her too, as if she was only barely tolerating the gear upon her, and solely for the sake of the hero upon her back. She regarded him with equal contemplation, before seeming to decide he liked him well enough. 

 

Awfully tame for a wolf, aren’t you? She said playfully, and it may have been the first time someone had ever seemed disappointed that Twilight was not wild enough . 

 

He huffed, ears pinning back for a moment as the statement read only as hilariously, miserably wrong against his experiences with others in this form. Fiercer than most would like . 

 

You weren’t meant to be a pet , hero , she said, rather disdainful of the idea for a horse that until now he’d have considered tame herself. How else are you to fight and defend but with sword and fang? I like my Link, but it would be very nice if he could be a wolf too, sometimes. He’s already tried to rip a monster’s throat out with his teeth, and would only be better suited with a form like yours. She continued on wistfully, Then he could keep up without riding me; that would be nice, and maybe if he could hear me he wouldn’t do half of the ridiculous things I have to bear witness to. 

 

And my, but he’d not have thought such character of the hero he saw now, slumped and weary and meek, even if his spirit did hold flickers of something fiercer and untamed. Twilight felt a rush of bittersweet longing for the hero Epona described, ridiculous and vicious though he may prove to be, so long as he was healthy .  Link sounded like a handful, but Twilight would take that anyday over the worry he faced now; heaven knows he already deals with enough mischief from the Chain that one more would be nothing but welcome.

 

He chuffed something as near a laugh as he could muster in the fraught scenario, gently touching noses with the mare. My own Epona would tell you talking to her hero never stopped him from doing dumb things, he told her wryly. Though as one experienced in said dumb things, I promise to do my best to be the voice of reason for him in your stead.  

 

Then he stood up testingly as Link continued to be unafraid of him, only watching with detached curiosity as the large lupine snuck a step closer to him. Do you know what’s wrong with him? Twilight asked hopefully, cocking his head at her.

 

She shifted unhappily though, flaring her nostrils as she drew back. Whatever it was happened before Link gathered me from the stable. He was walking and talking well enough, but smelt of fairy magic. That wasn’t a good sign at all, though it at least explained why Lawdon hadn’t been properly panicking at the thought of Link out here like this.  

 

He struggled a little mounting up, but I’ve seen him take out whole monster camps with worse, so when he directed me towards the castle I went willingly enough, Epona admitted, guilty at her complicity in this whole mess.  He got worse, though, fast, and I brought us off here once he became too ill to ride at a gallop . She stressed that fact, as if that especially was a point of concern, a marker of true mortal peril. To her, it very well may be; as a horse, her ability to assist Link ended as soon as he was unable to ride her, be it to help or safety. 

 

Epona’s account wasn’t the answer he’d hoped for, save for the frustration at the stablemaster waning and shifting instead to Link himself for being fool enough to mask his condition so thoroughly from those who would have helped. Twilight was left trying to puzzle out what exactly was wrong, standing and nudging up beside Link as he did his best to examine him. The initial assumption that it was an injury was thrown into doubt by the other’s too-sharp cheekbones and narrow boned wrists and hands, as if he’d long suffered from an illness that sapped his strength and vitality.

 

Except there was no fever flush over his pale features, perhaps courtesy of the pouring rain and wind; if anything, the colorless lips seemed to suggest Link was too cold. He seemed delirious, almost, dizzy and dazed and not quite wholly there as he watched the wolf fearlessly, nearly uncomprehending. Twilight edged closer while he had the chance; as odd as the idea was, there was no promise the hero would meet an intimidating stranger in the orchard as easily and openly as he was willing to wait beside a wolf. 

 

If there’s one thing he’d found traveling with the Chain, it's that whatever pretenses the heroes were fool enough to put up amongst each other, they didn’t bother to hide from a seemingly non-sentient wolf. Wolfie had uncovered plenty of illnesses and injuries with such underhanded methods, and Twilight’s only regret was that by its nature the ruse didn’t work on Time, Sky or Legend as well. Link didn’t know the wolf before him was actually a hero who would rather die than harm him, but even so he couldn’t be less bothered by Wolfie if he tried.  

 

With the others, the soulbond had proven too discrete as a lupine to be traced, though Twilight still believed it present enough to hint to the heroes there was something trustworthy to the wolf; he could imagine no other reason they’d so easily accept the predator into their midst. He wished he could say that was the reason for Link’s fearlessness as well, but honestly…he truly thinks that the younger hero just can’t muster the processing power to properly react. Looking up at him perched unsteadily upon Epona, Twilight feared the other hero was too unpredictable in his disoriented state  to safely bank on the younger hero not panicking or being suspicious of a tattooed hylian, especially after the strange disaster at the first stable. 

 

He’d rather avoid Link falling off a horse in an attempt to get away from him, if possible. He’d rather Link didn’t fall off at all, really, and even now watched intently as Epona shifted subconsciously, leaving the younger hylian swaying tenuously in the saddle. 

 

Be careful, He scolded worriedly, watching Link’s fingers weakly tighten around the reins and saddle horn as he tried to keep his balance though visibly dizzy. 

 

Be useful ! She snapped back, ears pinning anxiously as she fed off of his distress, but she guiltily froze all the same. Twilight was immediately remorseful; Epona couldn’t justifiably be expected to stay perfectly still -especially when she was so visibly anxious- and it wasn’t her fault that even her subtle shifting was enough to destabilize her ill rider. 

 

Sorry, sorry, he quickly soothed. You’re doing well, he’s just… it’ll be alright , Twilight finished awkwardly.  

 

Some of the tension fled from the mare’s frame. I’ve never seen him like this, she said, almost confused. He was… undrinking water, and seemed to be in pain. He’s always gotten back up, or pushed through, and I didn’t realize it was so bad, she said guiltily, falling into a single nervous prance, and halting with pinned ears at Link’s answering groan as he jolted heavily at the light movement. 

 

Un drink-? Ah, throwing up, Twilight realized, and if that was the case he could be fairly sure it was illness afflicting him. The wolf closed his eyes in defeat, a low whine escaping him as he realized he had very little means to help after all. Potions were out, then, of little help against most sicknesses, especially if nausea was a factor. He did have a fairy, and while they too were less effective on illness she’d at least be able to alleviate the most dangerous of his symptoms and buy them some time. He didn’t seem too bad off now, though, so maybe they’d be able to make it to this world’s Kakariko or healing village equivalent without him having to resort to such means.

 

Link blinked slowly, oblivion to their concern and Twilight’s contemplation as a violent shiver ran through him.

 

Wait, something -

 

Both animals’ ears swiveled simultaneously to their right, a warbling, questing monster’s cry barely sounding out over the rain, too close for comfort. Right on cue, something lizard-like stepped into view past the trees, far off and rain blurred but only not noticing the trio solely by virtue of not looking in their direction. Epona and Twilight froze, the wolf all too aware of the glaring crimson of Link’s tunic and how the mare’s mane glowed in the half light, the lot of them far from blending the background of the open orchard.

 

It stalked out of sight none the wiser, nothing more than a pale figure that gradually vanished away from them through the murk of rain. Twilight growled imperceptibly in his throat as he lifted his nose higher in a futile attempt to gauge their location, senses already straining for any other monsters that could be closer. So far there was nothing that he could hear or see, but with the rain that didn’t mean much. Scents were utterly unreliable; there were traces of something foul and faint, but anything fresher was thoroughly rinsed from their surroundings by now. There was no cover here; the orchard was overgrown, but there was precious little groundcover to obscure them, and the trees were hardly shielding them when they were spaced so far apart.

 

We need to go , he decided, all too aware of how vulnerable they were here. The enemies in this world may not have been trouble for him so far, but he’d been warned the castle held far, far worse than mere bokoblins, and he wasn’t alone, here. For all Epona’s intelligence she was still but a horse, and if a monster managed to sneak past him or get a lucky shot in- 

 

Well. Link was in no shape to defend himself, or possibly even stay atop Epona if she had to carry him away from combat. Even now he was oblivious to their agitation and the cause for it; maybe the monster cry had been too quiet for hylian ears to pick up, or maybe the delirious glaze over those blue eyes betrayed exactly how disoriented he really was, looking but a stiff breeze away from passing out. 

 

Meanwhile, Epona was staring after the monster with an intent look in her eye, thrumming with longing aggression and looking far more eager to go run it down than retreat. She took a single step towards where it had disappeared before seeming to remember Link, falling easily out of her apparent bloodlust in favor of worrying once more over him. 

 

Of course, she agreed far too late to hide how clearly she’d rather be trampling the monster instead, tossing her head in an equine nod and accidentally flicking her sodden mane into Link’s face. It elicited a weak groan from the hylian and a guilty curl of the mare’s neck, both of which grew in intensity as she moved into an ambling, long-limbed gait, something faster than a walk but smoother than a true trot. Her efforts to balance speed and smoothness were practically futile, though- the hylian on her back was jolting heavily with each minced step, curled so far forward over her neck his forehead nearly brushed her mane as he slumped over the saddle horn. 

 

Twilight gave a silent, airy boof, following suit as Epona picked her way through the orchard, anxiously peering up at Link, whose slitted eyes and ghostly pallor had him worried the younger hero was about to pass out. The bright blue of them vanished totally as Epona stepped around a protruding root and he weaved weakly to the side, and Twilight found himself fearfully nudging his calf without thought, trying to rouse him before he could slip from the saddle.

 

Was it just him, or was Link getting worse?  

 

The other hero’s eyes opened slowly, blinking blurrily down at the wolf with a weak smile that had Twilight hopefully perking his ears even as he danced around a deep puddle, immediately trotting back to Epona’s side. He pressed in close, sending up a doggy smile that delighted the other, a whispery laugh drawn into the air as Link offered a hand for him to sniff, still bent low enough that it wasn’t a far stretch for Twilight to crane up into. 

 

Twilight wasn’t a dog, but he took the opportunity given; finding that same lavender-cedarwood scent as he’d hoped at Link’s wrist, as well as the worrisome sweetness of potion and fairy magic and blood. The fingers were frightfully cold and pale, and he gave them a few licks before he forced himself to stop trying to warm them, knowing it would be futile like this. Link twisted his hand and gave Twilight a weak scratch at the nape of his neck, ruffling through his fur before just resting a hand upon him for a moment as he seemed to lose the energy to do anything more, the trembling of it painfully obvious as he slumped.

 

No, he was definitely getting worse, barely able to stay upright any more. Twilight drew back with a thin whine, ears pinned in worry. He needed to change back- Link needed hylian help to get back to the stable, for all that he seemed happy enough to bond with Wolfie. The Rancher stepped away, debating whether he even needed to go far before switching or just drop back a ways with Link so out of it and not liable to even not-

 

Catch him! Epona suddenly cried, snatching the wolf’s attention back towards the mare as she abruptly halted, legs braced wide as if that would make her more stable for her rider. Her head was twisted back to show white-rimmed eyes, Link slipping sideways off the saddle with far too weak an attempt to stop himself to have any chance of staying on. Twilight leapt back to her side and quickly reared up, just in time to gently brace his head up under the hylian’s torso to keep him from falling, leaning hard on Epona’s solid shoulder to stay up. Through the fabric -thinner than he’d hoped for in the cold rain- he could feel the ridges of Link’s ribs across the bridge of his nose and forehead, betraying that this was far more serious than mere dizziness and fainting.  

 

It had been a handful of minutes, and Link had already rapidly declined; he was already starting to rethink how soon that fairy would need to come into play, and dreading the fact. He could hear the whistling strain of Link’s breath in his ears, feel the useless tremor in his limbs as he struggled to help stay in the saddle, too weak to pull himself up. A whine escaped Twilight unwittingly, denial crumbling to ash even as he tried to hold onto hope. 

 

Fairies were rather a last resort kind of thing, and he desperately wanted to believe Link wasn’t bad enough off enough to need one.  

 

(He was already fearing he was wrong. )

 

Is he alright? Epona nervously whickered as Twilight managed to help shove Link upright once more in graceless hops, the lupine hero’s heart racing worriedly as he watched the hylian’s lips go dead white, hand tremoring as he brought it to his head at the change in altitude. 

 

I don’t think so. He had to forcibly cut off the unconscious whines escaping him before they grew too loud, anxiety climbing as he tensely watched the other, every sway a spike in Twilight’s heart rate as he worried he’d fall again. Epona stayed still, but her attention was already shifting away as she searched the trees around them with a caution that fast faded into interest in the bounty of apples around them. Twilight wouldn’t have given it a thought, except that she had the audacity to dip her head to pluck an apple from the ground and begin to crunch on it, ears still flicking about as she watched Twilight expectantly. 

 

Are you eating right now? Really? He growled at her, forcibly quiet,  fur too wet to properly bristle but doing its best. She stopped chewing for a moment as if just realizing what she’d done, before continuing to crunch on it with the equine version of a shrug, staring regally at him as she twitched her sodden tail. 

 

They have a healing effect , she whuffed dismissively, though it was very clear she’d simply gotten distracted by the treat.  Besides, you’re the one taking your time getting out the healing water for him. I don’t know what you’re waiting for, but it better be good to leave him like this. The last bit was said pointedly but without aggression, a show of trust that Twilight knew best as she waited for an explanation. 

 

How to tell her he didn’t know how to help, either?

 

For all her preternatural intelligence as the hero’s companion, she was still, in the end, only a horse. She thought fixing this was as easy as a potion; had probably seen Link bounce back from all sorts of injuries with their help before. Twilight hesitated, snagging on the apples, instead, as the safer subject. 

 

  I… don’t think that’s apples work , he said dumbly, before wincing as he realized it was likely a fib Link had told her to rationalize giving her treats.  

 

Well, you would know, now wouldn’t you, other-world-kin ? She said flatly, giving him a stink eye as he ran a frustrated circle around her and boofed irately, to which she merely flicked her tail whip-like at him before moving cautiously forward again. 

 

The wolf paused, dark ears pricked, before following at her heels, sighing as he realized she was heading towards another apple. In more silent speak he grumbled, I don’t know whether a potion will help if he’s sick, but it can’t hurt. If we’re safe for now, I’m going to shift back to hylian and get Link some proper help. 

 

She flicked her ears distractedly at him, eyes already transfixed on a gem of an apple just ahead. Epona ? He called quietly, eyes narrowing, but she only gave a dismissive flick of her tail, mindlessly dipping her head under a low hanging  branch.

 

Twilight barked a warning, realizing far too late that Link wasn’t going to duck , bobbling lifelessly with glazed eyes atop the mare. Her steps hiccupped at the call, but the branch was already snapping crisply across Link’s face, drawing a confused cry from him as he reeled dangerously in the saddle. Epona wisely didn’t halt immediately -thank Ordania, she’d surely have unseated him if she had-, instead slowing gradually to twist and survey Link’s betrayed confusion, giving a glad snort once she assured he was unharmed by the mishap. 

 

There was a flicker of similarly silly shenanigans her hero commonly partook in, none of which she understood but all of which seemed dangerous to her and nothing but amusing to Link. Her perspective was skewed, having long since accepted that some things were not for her to comprehend, and among them were Link’s tendencies to get into and right back out of all kinds of strange, seemingly peril she could never seem to correctly gauge as mortal or harmless. Link was still upright, though, not even bleeding, and so she was no more alarmed than she had been before.  

 

Twilight, on the other hand, panicked . 

 

Because no hero should be this out of it unless things were bad, and nothing he’d seen so far was changing the dread mounting in his stomach. None of it was helped by the fact that apparently, Link just pulled this kind of thing so often Epona was able to shrug it off now that Twilight was here to give him a potion and fix it all; she seemed to take his inaction as things being better than she’d feared, not a sign of how helpless he was. 

 

This could all go very wrong if he wasn’t careful.  

 

Twilight circled the mare worriedly, peering up at the dazedly blinking hero and feeling an iota of relief that he seemed no worse off, at least, for having gotten whapped across the face with a stick. Meanwhile, Epona plucked her ill-gotten apple from the tree and munched on it, countenance sheepish but overall unrepentant as she waited for Twilight to do something, looking around alertly despite her snacking. 

 

For monsters, he realized, because he’d been anything but quiet trying to get her to stop. We need to get him out of here, the lupine hero muttered nervously, The monsters -

 

Would already be here if they’d heard him and you, and it’s not as if a lizalfos or two are any problem for a hero, she said easily, tilting her head at his clear anxiety. T he rain masks us just as much as it masks them, you know , she added sensibly, and he stared flatly at her. She’d no way of knowing about infected monsters, so there was no telling if she was right or not, but at least it seemed the enemies lurking around them weren’t terribly dangerous to start off. 

 

Fine , he said warily, gauging her low level of concern and weighing whether it was dependable with what she did and didn’t know of the situation. I’m going to do a circle and shift back- stay here alright? No more walking, and no more apples , he ordered firmly. 

 

She chuffed indignantly through the last bits of apple in her mouth. Of course not! Just don’t take too long, alright? 

 

One last pale-eyed glare that met nothing but lazy, patient bloodthirst that decidedly did not belong on a prey animal, and he decided that they’d be fine. Twilight trotted  briskly off, stepping carefully around from behind what trees he could as he spiralled out from Epona and Link’s location, barely out of view through the rain and about to head back before he lost them when he found exactly what he’d hoped to avoid; two of this world’s lizalfos, pale striped scales and dull armor blending in to the rainy murk. This time there was no hiding from them as he loped right into their line of sight, but they still seemed to hesitate at the sight of the wolf, not immediately aggressive as they stopped to assess him. 

 

Twilight stared back, hackles rising, reading their angle of intent and marking it far too close to intersecting with the very ill hero to his back. He rumbled a warning and the larger lizard cocked its head thoughtfully, stepping forward and chittering to its companion as Twilight matched the monster with a prowling step of his own, a growl rolling viciously from his chest as he drew his lips back, fangs a blatant threat.

 

Stay back, he silently prayed, turn away.  

 

It wasn’t his lucky day, though. His refusal to retreat was apparently enough to clue them in to the fact that he was no ordinary wolf; the monsters in his time tended to catch on immediately, but he’d found in strange worlds unaccustomed to shape-shifting heroes that Wolfie was generally disregarded if he didn’t attack first or draw aggression towards himself. The larger lizalfos hissed back, locking onto him immediately and flying forward with unprecedented speed.

 

They were quicker than he’d thought -far, far quicker goddamn- and the larger monster was upon him even as he backpedaled to buy himself space, lunging out lightning-quick with its lance in a maneuver Twilight had to stumble to avoid. Immediately after he was forced to duck down into the mud as an airborne weapon careened over him, brushing dangerously close as it looped back to the second lizalfos who’d thrown it. 

 

A shield would probably be handy for this fight, he realized, already fully aware he’d misjudged their strengths when jumping headfirst into the fight. He let out a furious, snarling bark, drawing them away from Link’s location as he ducked around a tree, trying to buy himself time to shift and struggling as one darted after him with its long range melee weapon and the other provided co-

 

He leaned back onto his haunches as the tri-bladed weapon bit into the tree trunk beside him, nearly ruffling his chest fur. Nevermind, now they were both attacking him head on, and even as he lunged forward and snapped a forearm between his teeth he was forced to drop it and dodge the second lizalfos or risk getting impaled, trying very hard to convince himself this was better than dealing with the boomerang.

 

He managed to grab that damned spear in his jaws on its next jab, jerking it around vindictively like it was a tug of rope as the monster chittered furiously at him; it was a game he’d tolerated exactly once with Wind before Time’s laughter as he came back from collecting wood put an eternal halt to it ever again, oh gods just the memory of it - 

 

The lizalfos refused to let go, trying to draw itself close enough to lash out at Twilight’s eyes as he flailed it around, but didn’t manage to brace its feet well enough as it stepped forward to avoid being knocked into the other monster. In the moments they were tangled together and staggering Twilight reached for his hylian body, spear dropping from canine jaws and into hylian hands just in time to get tackled into the mud by a giant lizard before he could bring the weapon to bear. He shoved it up away from him, looking into its bright purple maw for only a second -malice glinting at the back of its throat for a moment as it prepared an attack he had no interest in learning more about- before drawing his sword between them across its chest, simultaneously hooking a hand behind its rearmost teeth and hauling it by the jaw to the side to smush its face into the mud. 

 

Well. Grind its face into the earth hard enough to break some facial bones, more like, but Twilight didn’t have time to do worse, unfortunately. He rolled up onto one knee, rounding the spear about to block the odd three bladed weapon from the second lizalfos before bringing his sword slicing through its torso with his other hand as he held its weapon captive. It writhed with his blade caught in its shattered ribs, lashing out with its claws, but he only slammed it into the ground and wrenched his sword free, neatly beheading it as it flailed to its feet and turned to dart away. 

 

The next instant something cracked in a line across his back, the pain sharp and biting where his pelt didn’t deaden the blow. Twilight abandoned the spear in favor of his shield, bringing it up in a guard as he turned to face the final lizalfos, whose coiling tail showed exactly what had hit him. It hissed and bum-rushed him, heedlessly spearing itself on his sword full force, Twilight gritting his teeth as he absorbed its momentum and flung the monster away, following after its sprawling form in a quick lunge. 

 

The lizalfos flipped onto all fours, spilling blood onto the puddled ground to shine like an oil slick over the water, lips curling from its teeth as it whipped its tail at him. He took the hit across his shield, spinning with the momentum of the blow and bringing his sword up to behead it like its brethren. The strike was blocked across its armored forearms, though, the lizalfos unfurling its crossed arms powerfully enough to send Twilight’s sword to the side, though he didn’t lose grip on it. 

 

As the monster moved to lunge at his unguarded chest and throat he brought up a leg and kicked its chest, sending it sliding back only a few feet despite the power behind the blow. 

 

It was far enough. 

 

Twilight leapt and twisted, bringing his blade around with the full force of his body to slice neatly through the lizalfos as it tried to skitter away, fast but not fast enough to clear his strike. The hero backed away, sword and shield still raised warily, but the monster was already shuddering and falling away to smoke and ash, leaving Twilight standing alone in the puddle. 

 

He surveyed the area around, but it was all silent save for the steady pulsing of the rain around him, clear of monsters so far as he could tell, even if only for now. There was a terrifying moment where he thought he was lost, having been turned around in the fight, before he suddenly recognized a distinctive tree limb and raced back to Epona and Link. 

 

Or so he thought; after a little while of frantic wandering and perusing a specific trio of trees that he could have sworn matched where they’d been waiting, Twilight turned a circle, feeling dread climb up his throat. Maybe Epona had heard the fight, and decided to take Link somewhere safer, but where-?

 

Ah, there- he could see a pearly glow through the rain that could be nothing but her, and he jogged towards them, pace picking up as he registered that Link was no longer upright in the least atop her back, but slumped over her neck. Epona was trotting a circle in place, agitated and confused, and Twilight cried out as he watched Link cough up rich crimson, the color incriminatingly bright even so far away.

 

No, oh no, no please - “Link!” He shouted helplessly as he pushed himself into a dead sprint, already reading the danger of the scene before him.

 

At his cry Epona jolted, finally breaking from the nonsensical commands given to her by a collapsed rider in favor of immediately heading towards him as he sprinted to meet her. Epona was walking, each step brisk and smooth, head held high as Link hung limply over her shoulder, head jostling with every stride. He was slipping, Twilight could see, and Epona must have felt it too as he began to fall in earnest, the arm draped over her neck and loose grip on the reins going slack. The warm, weakly flickering presence in Twilight’s mind dimmed and cooled, drawing away as he ran to cross the last few dozen feet. 

 

Five steps away. 

 

Epona halted, twisting around to try to nudge the slipping hylian back into the saddle or out of his faint, but the last of the traction against the rain-slick leather gave way all at once, sending him bonelessly falling head first towards the ground. 

 

It wasn’t a far fall. 

 

It didn’t need to be, to break a neck. 

 

Two steps away, and Link was making no move to break his fall, plunging headfirst towards the unforgiving ground. 

 

One step away sliding, and too late-

 

Except. 

 

Link’s foot was still trapped in the stirrup, and as he fell his knee was twisted, body catching as his hip dislocated. Twilight’s soul-brother screamed with breath he didn’t have as his ankle bent all wrong under the weight of his falling body before ripping free from the stirrup-

 

Twilight heard the crack of it a fraction of a second before his hands snared the other, one arm supporting Link’s head as the other wrapped around his torso, sliding clear under Epona’s belly with the other hero safely caught up. In his arms, Link gave a violent shudder and choked gasp before fainting dead away, leaving Twilight’s mind cold and lonely. 

 

The older hylian gasped as the narrow miss sunk in, more in terror than exertion- shaking himself at how quickly things had gone to hell and then narrowly diverted back into something that wouldn’t shatter him to pieces. His time with the other could be measured in minutes only, and of them Link hadn’t spoken a single word to him that wasn’t dog-speak nonsense, nor been wholly aware for any of it. 

 

And yet. 

 

He’d been warm, regardless, and kind, and Twilight’s soul lived within him, too, a connection between them that thrived already, instinctive and loud, demanding of him care and protection and companionship Twilight was more than happy to provide because it felt right . 

 

Because that’s what you do for those you love.

 

And he did love Link already, with all the ferocity and surety of brothers from birth. That was the soulbond’s gift; letting them immediately recognize compatibility of all the other heroes and the importance they could hold in each others’ lives, linking them tightly together and cementing their bonds as surely as years of friendship and companionship would have. For all that they’d not had a single conversation yet,  his death -when Twilight was right there, had wasted too much time in the wilds, too much time as a wolf, too much time - would have devastated him. A fraction of his soul, ripped from him, the deep roots of potential and love and hope torn away from the core of him- 

 

He didn’t know Link at all.

 

He knew Link in the truest sense of the word, and he knew already that he could not live anything but a painful, fractured life without the other. 

Twilight clutched the too thin hero atop his lap where he’d been caught, only a scant few inches before the ground. It was muddy, here, but not enough to have saved him, and for all that the sound of his leg tearing apart as he fell made the Rancher’s chest catch in horror, were it not for the milliseconds bought by bone holding unto breaking and muscle twisting away with such grinding resistance, Link could very well have been dead now. 

 

It was only luck that he wasn’t, as galling as it was to call such a horror of gruesome injuries fortunate. Even now, the angles of the limb were all wrong at each joint- hip, knee, ankle, dropped and twisted in a way that sickened Twilight even as he forced himself to look, to assess what needed to be done. Link, at least, was wholly unconscious, well past the point of suffering it any longer than the scant second before the shock of the injuries had overwhelmed his fragile hold on consciousness. 

 

Already Twilight  had a hand in his bag, mouth set grimly as he rifled around blindly for the fairy, tossing those stupid bananas to the side as he tried to recall where he’d seen it when looking for his wallet earlier. 

 

The next second Epona was there, nudging Link gently, then Twilight insistently, letting loose a forceful whinny with pinned ears. “I’m going,” he assured her, eyes flicking back to Link’s face as he searched, worriedly noting how badly he was shivering and the grey tone to his lips. Then glass was clinking under his fingers, and he drew the bottled fairy out with no little relief. 

 

He set her on the grass beside them, and Epona reared up a little, squealing furiously as her tail lashed. “Trust me,” Twilight told her urgently as he carefully laid Link down against his bag to help him stay… not dry, it was far too late for that, but at least atop something kinder than muddied earth. His pelt was draped carefully over the smaller hylian, tucked in around his shivering, thin frame, the other’s soaked hair brushed carefully away from his face.  

 

Then Twilight turned to the hero’s battered leg, swallowing as he faced a problem he knew the hated answer to; he’d seen Warriors set a bone, knew that it had to be done before drinking a potion, even understood the basic mechanics of the task.

 

The problem was that he’d never done it himself.

 

Endured it? Absolutely, but there had always been Rusl or Renado or hell, even Midna once in a pinch to take over the task, and he’d never been in a state during or afterwards to examine their technique. 

 

He felt an irrational spike of hysterical annoyance at his past self for passing out instead of asking the important questions like how ? Just… all of the how’s, any of them, he’d take whatever scrap of help he could have gotten. 

 

But hell, if Midna could do it, so could Twilight- he refused to be inferior to her in this, knowing how squeamish she was no matter how well she hid it under sass and dry wit. Link’s ankle wasn’t good, but Twilight thought he could do well enough on it for the fairy to finish the rest, and Hyrule could always fix whatever long term mistakes were made, so long as he ensured Link didn’t die here of shock or to monsters en route back because he couldn’t walk or fight properly.

 

No, the bigger issue was the hip, which was at his best guess dislocated. There wasn’t much else that would match to the dropped position of that leg, nor the malformed outline of the hipbone through Link’s soaked pants. 

 

Twilight had never relocated a hip, either, or a shoulder, for that matter. 

 

Looks like he was learning all kinds of new things today, and it was time to tell how far natural skill and a whole lot of determination could take him.

 

(Here’s hoping he had some heretofore untapped natural skill, for Link’s sake and his own poor heart, too.)

 

He was not, as it turned out, an undiscovered well of healing talent. 

 

In the end, Link’s joint was back in its socket all the same, though it was far from a job well done. Twilight had felt the muscle tear and rip under his hands as he tried to force it, rotating Link’s leg and feeling the hero shudder as his injured knee and ankle were aggravated. He’d had to stop and shift his grip several times upon Link’s thigh and hip, trying to guess where he needed leverage without further damaging the other injuries and doing a poor fucking job of it. There had been a terrible grating sensation where he had a hand braced against the hip bone, and the sound - 

 

Twilight had to move away to be sick, shaking with the sensation of Link’s tearing muscles and pained jolt fresh in his mind and that terrible, wet meaty rip in his ears still. Goddess, even thought he was unconscious- 

 

He didn’t want to imagine how bad it would have been with Link awake.

 

As soon as he was done Twilight was back at the other’s side, blinking through tears as he straightened the knee that was, best he could tell, not broken, and pulling the bones to alignment in the ankle. That too, was pure guesswork in something less straightforward than the shin, but finally he deemed it good enough, surely, distinctly shaky himself at the sheer brutality he’d been forced to enact on his soulmate. 

 

He’d never more afraid of his own strength than he was now, with the memory of Link’s muscles ripping, tendons te a r i n g-

 

Twilight shuddered as he clenched his hands in his tunic, grounding himself in the harmless bunching of fabric in his fists, drawing himself away from… all that. 

 

Thank Ordana that Link wouldn’t have this as his first proper memory of Twilight. He was horribly, wretchedly glad that he hadn’t had to endure the other’s screams, that Link wouldn’t ever remember that the first time Twilight had touched him had been to inflict such agony.

 

No, that memory belonged to Twilight alone, and it was better that way. 

 

He freed the fairy with shaking hands as he knelt beside Link, watching with wide, shaken eyes as she worked steadily up his leg, the pink fairy dust unaffected by the rain sloughing down as it floated into the unconscious hero’s injuries. She also trailed up his spine, sending a frisson of fear stabbing through Twilight’s heart at what unsuspecting damage there could have been worsened by his jostling Link accidentally. His watchful gaze sharpened as she fluttered around Link’s slack face, spinning faster above him before shivering unhappily and sending Twilight an apologetic curtsy before darting off without waiting for a reward or treat. 

 

There was a special kind of trepidation to a fairy’s apology in the wake of a healing, he found.

 

Under what care she’d given, the younger hylian seemed… less healed than Twilight would have hoped from a fairy, but at least no longer terrifyingly shocky, the dangerous cyanotic cast to his lips having faded even if the signs of sickness were all still there yet, in the sharp lines of his jaw and sunken hollows of his eyes, the chill of pallid skin as he rested a palm over Link’s cheek forcing Twilight into action. 

 

He gently lifted Link sidelong across his lap to get him off the cold ground and share body warmth, worried at the other’s seeming fragility even if the fairy did seem to have stabilized him a little, taking the edge of danger from their situation. Twilight hugged the smaller hero close, enclosing him against his chest as he tucked his legs up as best he could, curling forward and doing what little he could to shield the other from the elements and give him what warmth he could. Pressed tightly against him, Twilight could feel exactly how desperately thin the other was, terrifyingly frail and small in his arms despite what strength he must possess as a hero, strength enough to have saved his Hyrule and defeated some great, terrible iteration of evil. 

 

His heart shriveled at what could have driven Link to this desperate fragility, delirious and helpless in his own kingdom and horribly, miserably alone. 

 

Not anymore, though. Not so long as Twilight had a say in the matter. 

 

Epona positioned herself strategically beside them, blocking the worst of the windblown rain with her body. Every now and then she would bend her head down and nudge at Link, blowing warm air into his soaked hair before drawing away to pin her ears back and look off into the woods, feet shuffling anxiously. 

 

“It’ll be okay,” he promised her weakly, but though her ears twitched towards him she did not turn to face him. When next she dipped to worry at Link, Twilight freed a hand to caress under her jaw, moving slowly enough for her to draw away. He was heartened by the way she instead rested the weight of her head in his hand, turning for a moment into the comfort he offered and nudging her velveteen muzzle at the side of his face in reciprocation. 

 

They stayed that way for a while, warm where she was pressed against him, his eyes closed as he took in the simple familiarity of equine scent, drawing comfort and strength from Epona’s presence and what small reassurance could be found in Link’s form in his arms, thin and weak but warm and alive nonetheless. 

 

Twilight was here, now. He’d help Link get better, and they’d find the others. For now, he had to get Link back to the stable where it was warm and dry and he could recover while they got directions to someone who could actually help in some meaningful capacity. Even as he moved to lift Link up though, the hylian curled up to his chest showed signs of stirring, and Twilight couldn’t help but freeze, waiting with bated breath as he slowly woke, if the dazed, incoherent fugue state could be called such. There was a false start, Link’s eyes fluttering as he silently mouthed nonsense, breath breaking from its steady pattern as he remained oblivious to Twilight calling his name, falling back into stillness abruptly. 

 

Twilight shook, head dropping to touch their foreheads together as he brought his fingers to rest gently over Link’s heart, keeping the weight of his hand from the other’s chest in irrational fear that even that small burden would stop the disconcertingly fast, shallow breaths. He lost himself in a daze, eyes closed and trusting Epona on watch as he unconsciously rocked the ill hero without realizing it.  

 

Finally, he felt the forehead against his scrunch, pulling away to see Link’s face creasing in something like pain or confusion, the process of waking up clearly an unpleasant one. Still, the warmth of the other’s mind -slowed and dimmed and diminished though it was- ushered in a flood of relief that had Twilight smiling a watery grin. Devastatingly blue eyes slowly opened, painfully stark against Link’s wan complexion, rolling blindly for a few moments before finally, finally settling on Twilight’s face and focusing. 

 

There was a minute shift in those exhausted features; Link’s eyes brightening just a bit, jaw tilting up a fraction, the edge of his lips drawing into the weakest smile. Just like that, any worry about the connection between them faded like fog at dawn, and he felt the tension gripping his frame soften immediately in the face of his soulmate, so very weak but happy to even just see him, with all the strength he had left. 

 

Tears gathered in hazel eyes, and Twilight had to swallow down against the tight, painful squeeze of affection in his chest. “Hi there,” he said softly, already signing away the rightful fraction of his heart that this hero had only just claimed but always held. “Are you feeling better?”

 

Link’s eyes drift to the side as he considers, shifting minutely before his face creased in agony, going dead white as he gave a pained, full body twitch. He pressed his face to Twilight’s chest and fell carefully still, breathing quick and shallow through what seemed to be a decent amount of pain. “No,” he said through clenched jaw, eyes screwed shut  

 

Something dangerously close to a sob escapes Twilight, the sound barely held back even as his breath hitched, trying with everything he had not to add to whatever pain was ailing the already suffering hero. A moment of hesitation, then he brought his hand up and gently massaged at Link’s temple, continuing after a pause when the younger hylian exhaled and went blissfully limp in his careful grasp, some of the pain easing from his features.

 

Twilight swallowed, speaking aloud as he tried to calm himself and reassure the other. “Well, you’re better off than you were before, at least. I’m Twilight,” he offered, and received the faintest hum of acknowledgement, barely more than a sleep murmur. His voice grew more determined, then, even as it stayed carefully soothing. “I’m going to get you help, okay?”

 

That drew a more defined noise from Link, but then his eyes began to flutter shut, lips slackening as he began to drift off and, nope, not yet he couldn’t, though Twilight could tell he desperately wanted and likely needed his rest. 

 

“What’s your name?” The Ranchhand prompted, aiming to keep Link awake as he reached for the potion, careful not to jostle the other too much. He found himself waiting with baited breath for the answer as the ill hylian puzzled his way through the question, doubt sprouting quietly in the gaping suspense despite the way he knew he couldn’t be wrong. 

 

A rough murmur that barely breached the soft roar of rain and wind, the hylian in his arms shifting as if to straighten his spine, chin dipping up weakly in an unconscious attempt to present himself better in the sad facsimile of an introduction. 

 

Had he not already known who Link was, the reply would have likely been utterly incomprehensible, the poor hero’s voice ragged and choking on the single syllable, lips barely moving to pronounciate as he blinked half-lidded eyes heavily. Link , he said brokenly, unknowingly claiming for himself eight brothers. Twilight smiled at the confirmation, gently drawing the other into a hug as he buried his face in Link’s soaked hair, breathing in the warm, familiar scent of the other, softened by rain. 

 

Another weak shiver, and Twilight drew himself away to secure his pelt tighter around the small figure in his arms, laughing weakly as Link did his level best to bury himself in its folds with little shimmies of his shoulder. He tucked it around under the other’s jaw, expression melting as the younger hylian gave up and instead pinned one of Twilight’s hands between his cheek and the pelt as he smushed his face into it, eyes fluttering happily at the warmth he leeched off of him.   

 

Twilight made a soft noise in the back of his throat, caught between soft adoration and worry as he palmed the other’s cheek properly, gently shifting him to a more comfortable position. Link trustingly let him, head heavy and limp in his grasp, eyes half-lidded as he stared serenely up at the Ranchhand. 

 

“Link?” He called quietly, eyebrows furrowing with worry when the other showed no sign of hearing him, just blinking placidly as he quietly breathed in Twilight’s arms. “Where’s the nearest town that I can get you to?” He asked a little more intently, hand sliding down to rub at Link’s collarbone to rouse him a little. 

 

There was the stable, but if there had been any kind of healer there then Link never would have been allowed to leave, or at least wouldn’t have been stupid enough to try . Twilight could always head there if he couldn’t muster an answer from Link, but with everything spread so far apart in this enormous kingdom if he didn’t want to risk wasting any time dragging his ill soulmate around on horseback through a storm, not when he was this bad off. 

 

There was a long pause, before finally the younger hylian’s eyes focused a little. “Town?” He said softly, voice dreamy and vacant as he frowned. “There…”His eyes closed as if in thought, lids flickering with rapid movement as his head rolled to the side, only the furrowed brows showing he hadn’t passed out again. 

 

Shit , Twilight thought with a flurry of silent panic. 

 

Link dragged his eyes open again with visible effort, drawing a shaky, deep breath before admitting, “I don’ know,” in a small, uncertain voice, gaze slipping out of focus.

 

“Link?” Twilight said with quiet urgency, watching as those blue eyes wandered blindly, only an ear twitching feebly in his direction jarring loose the realization that Link was trying to pinpoint where he was. The ill hylian gave up the next moment, eyes drifting closed and nose wrinkling slightly as he croaked an answering, “Twi?” back, his desperately weak state apparently not enough to tamp down whatever impishness ran so deeply in his bones as to show even now.  

 

It did nothing to quell the rising fear as Link’s lucidity continued to waver before him. He needed help, now , and Twilight felt a rush of desperate yearning for Renado‘s reliable care as he faced the fading youth in his arms. . 

 

“Do you have a map?” He tried, cupping Link’s cheek once more to help support his lolling head, shifting it to cover the other hero’s frigid ear where it was exposed to the air. If he had something to navigate by, then maybe - 

 

Link slurred an incomprehensible smear of consonants, slumped bonelessly in Twilight’s arms. A vicious shiver ran through him, and once it passed he was left limp once more, head lolling back lifelessly. Twilight clutched him closer, but he was starting to doubt the mild chill of the rainstorm was truly the cause for Link’s low temperature. 

 

“Right,” he said to himself, trying to get a hold of the fear thrumming through his veins. Twilight closed his eyes for a moment, forcing himself to focus on what needed to be done instead of the fading figure in his arms.  “Stables it is, then. But first-” 

 

He drew Link upright, heartened as his eyelids flickered, unscrewing his canteen and starting to do his best to coax the other’s face from where it was buried in his tunic. “Here, Link,“ he prompted, running a thumb firmly over the other’s limp wrist, wrapped with Twilight’s arm around his waist as he braced the boneless hero against his chest.  “Hey, hi,” he crooned as bright turquoise slitted open, brilliant and bracing in the grey gloom of the rain.

 

“Can you drink this?” He asked in a soft voice as he set the rim of his canteen to slack lips, swallowing anxiously when Link tried to twitch back, water spilling over his pursed lips. For a moment he hesitated, wondering if it was worth forcing the other, but what if he passed out after this? It was a very real worry, and who knows how long it would take for him to wake up enough to drink again. 

 

He drew the other closer, so, so gently propping him a little higher. “It’s alright, it’s just water,” Twilight prormised, voice cracking. “You’ve been throwing up, and you’re dehydrated. You need to drink, come on, there we go, easy,” he said mindlessly, just speaking quiet platitudes as Link slowly accepted the water, ear flicking every now and as Twilight’s voice rose and fell in a soothing cadence. 

 

The pair sat huddled in the rain, watched over by a fretting mare, Twilight’s head occasionally lifting from his task to swivel about watchfully, betraying the feigned patience of his voice as he spoke to the other. Epona’s head darted up, staring intently off, and she let out a low whicker before trotting off into the woods determinedly, ignoring Twilight’s low calls to get back here! I’m gonna need you eventually !

 

She flicked her tail at him as she broke into a purposeful canter, and all he could do was trust she wasn’t abandoning him and her hero here.

 

Thankfully, the water seemed to help at least, Link growing a little more responsive and alert, though still distinctly stuporous. Eventually, though, Twilight came up against whatever complication had caused the nausea in the first place, Link’s stomach cramping under the hand he had rested atop it. He pulled the canteen away even as Link turned his face aside, the very fact that he had the strength to do so already a wild improvement from minutes ago. 

 

Twilight gently wormed a hand in between where the younger hylian had tucked his face back into his chest, worrying at the coolness of Link’s forehead even knowing he himself ran hot, finding his pulse steady, at least, if too fast and a little weak. He’d done all he could to hold Link over- it was time to get them somewhere that would truly address whatever was wrong. 

 

He lifted the other hero up easily in a princess hold, jaw tightening at how light the other was in a way that had nothing to do with his own strength. They were headed back to the stables, and he was going to have words with the stablemaster there, because truly, how could they possibly care so little for their hero? Even if he hadn’t been so bad off there, he was visibly ill and unfit to be wandering around alone, for the exact reason Twilight was carrying him now. 

 

What could have happened if he hadn’t been following after? Would he already be dead from a broken neck, or laying paralyzed on the sodden ground? Or would he just have laid there and quietly died from whatever was afflicting him now, leaving him so terrifyingly weak even after a fairy’s care? Even the gentle sway of Twilight rising to his feet had Link wavering on the edge of consciousness, leaving him with little faith that the other hero would have somehow miraculously been alright on his own. 

 

Link could have died, and it would have been for nothing and utterly avoidable.Twilight didn’t believe for a second that he’d been lucid enough so little time ago as to be able to make sound decisions on his own well-being; he should have been kept here at the stable, warm and safe. He let the growing fury simmer within him, condensing it down to something fierce and protective, waiting patiently to unleash it on those who should have done better . 

 

Twilight was shamefully aware that included him, too. If he hadn’t dawdled, he would have met Link still at the stable himself, and he could have been the one to stop this… this inane madness before it ended like this. 

 

Before it ended here, with him and a semi-conscious hero, with monsters around and something desperately precious to protect and little means to do so. He glanced down at Link, and found him looking back, eyes the clearest they’d been yet, tracing avidly over his markings and across his features with open wonder. 

 

The affection was like a clawed hand around Twilight’s heart, his throat closing up against the strength of the emotion, the mad urge to protect from harm nearly overwhelming him in that moment, the bond between their minds singing . His eyes dilated with the force of the feeling, drunk on the exhilaration of Link’s trust, latching intently onto the responsibility of his to keep safe, to save, to bring joy . 

 

Link smiled loopily up at him, soft and serene and terribly weak, tracing a cold, shaking finger over the marking’s gracing Twilight’s cheekbone. “Wolf had ‘em too,” he mused, and for a moment the distance in his gaze seemed otherworldly rather than lost. 

 

There was something unnerving about being called out so directly; not that the other heroes hadn’t mentioned the same, but their suspicion had easily been defused by an assurance that it was a shared experience that led to the similar markings, a bond between him and the wolf he was never ever seen with, no, that’s not suspicious at all, they’re very close companions, can’t you tell?

 

“Oh! Ah, we got them at the same time, Wolfie and me,” Twilight said with a laugh that was a little too high to be completely casual, gaze skittering to and away from Link’s fogged, trusting stare. The other hero nodded along faintly, taking Twilight at his word, lips twisting a little as he let his head fall back, rolling to the side to gaze out at the trees. “‘S it still here? Liked it a lot…” He murmured wistfully, eyes glassy and longing and sad. 

 

Twilight’s heart jolted uncomfortably, and honestly Link was having a hard enough time already, may not even remember and if it would give him any comfort at all when Twilight could offer nothing else- 

 

Well, it’s not as if he’d be the only hero to know anyways, now, was it?

 

He shuffled Link in his arms a little, holding out for a bare second before crumbling completely as the ill hylian waited patiently to find out where his beloved wolf had gone. Sure, Twilight could lie, but then the guilt would kill him, and Link needed him alive. 

 

Besides, all he’d ever looked at either form of him with was gladness and joy- how could Twilight deny him that?

 

“Okay, so I can turn into a wolf,” he said without thinking it through, crashing straight to the point and completely losing the delirious hero he was speaking to. 

 

A slow blink up at him, uncertain and hopeful. 

 

Twilight grinned ruefully down at Link, soft hazel eyes meeting scathing blue. “That wolf earlier? With these same markings?” He flipped his rain slick bangs away and dipped his head to display his markings. “It was me. I saved you from falling off Epona twice, not that I’m sure you remember…” He hummed, watching as slow realization bloomed across Link’s face, brightening his eyes before he settled back with a satisfied set to his lips, something in Twilight’s chest purring at the content calm of the other. 

 

“‘T explains it… why I like you just ‘s much,” Link said indistinctly, getting comfortable as he nudged in closer to lean a cheek against Twilight’s chest. The older hero smiled big and bright, warmed by the simple, heartfelt confession. 

 

He’d always been so in awe of the Chain’s easy acceptance of him, even amongst those who knew about Wolfie, even. While he knew it wasn’t the worst secret to have nor the hardest to overcome, some traumas just couldn’t be reasoned with, and among them was sharing the fact that he could take a wolf’s form and held some of its instincts, for better and worse. 

 

And yet Link was looking at him with complete faith even now, sleepy eyes utterly unafraid of him, trustingly releasing in his hold and handing his care over to a near stranger without any sign of regret or wariness. Of course it was the bond, he knew that, but- 

 

That didn’t invalidate any of the emotions. Link wasn’t wrong to trust him, they’d just… skipped over the long parts of it by virtue of sharing the same gilded spirit, fates and happiness tied together just as it was for all the rest of the Chain. 

“I’m already pretty fond of you too, Link.” And if his voice was a little choked up at the ferocity of the adoration thrumming through his body, the other merely basked in the flare of protectiveness through their bond, taking comfort in the reciprocation. A whicker drew his attention, and Epona trotted up on them, unchanged from before save that more mud was splattered over her belly and tail, pride and victory in the bold arch of her neck. “Now let’s get you to some help, alright?” He said absently to Link as he walked to meet her, the younger hylian looking near to napping in his arms. The barest hint of a nod was his answer, and it was enough for Twilight. 

 

“And what did you do, exactly,” he teased gently, standing steadfast as Epona butted her head none too gently against his shoulder. “Take out some monsters for us? You look like you had an easier time of it than me earlier, if so.” He blew playfully into her nostrils, leaning in to kiss her muzzle. “Just so long as it wasn’t apples again, eh Epona?” 

 

At that she reared her head back with a whuff of affront, and over his laughter he almost missed Link’s dazed “Epona?” She definitely heard it though and immediately crowded in again, abandoning cautious distance in favor of nuzzling the hero in his arms despite Twilight half-heartedly trying to pull him away from her ticklish mother henning. 

 

“Leave him be, darlin’. He’s not doing so well right now.” His voice was still gentle, but Epona seemed to understand, drawing away with one last worried nudge at Twilight’s hip before dancing sideways in invitation. 

 

In his arms Link seemed to try to sit up some, failing but caring not a bit as he whispered, “You knew her name,” in a reverent tone. 

 

Ah. Yes, that would be… odd. “I recognized her, that’s all.” Weren’t the heroes and their horses generally famous? Or famous enough, he hoped; the folk he’d met so far had certainly seemed familiar with Link. 

 

He didn’t expect Link to laugh, though. It was giddy, almost, ecstatic and joyful and more than a little worrying as the other hero smiled dizzily up at him, eyes bright and glassy. “You’re with Time?” He asks eagerly, and Twilight stops prepping them to mount up immediately in favor of giving Wild a blankly shocked look. 

 

He had- no, there’s no way-

 

“ You know Time?” He sounded utterly bewildered, but shook off the disbelief quickly. “Where- no, what happened? There’s no way he would have left you like this.” Not if he had any choice, any more than Twilight could at this moment, and he can’t imagine Time would have been any less attached to or protective of their cheery, clearly suffering soul mate. 

 

No, it would have to be something big and something bad to have drawn Time away from a Chain member in need of help. 

 

Link was slow to answer, seeming to fight to gather the words together, and for a moment Twilight worried he was losing him again to the delirium of earlier. “‘S at the castle,” he managed finally, voice going stubborn. “‘M gonna meet him there.”

 

Yeah, no, absolutely not. 

 

Not even if Time was there, now; he couldn’t risk Link on a chance, though it broke his heart to wonder-

 

“No. No, for several reasons, which I’m going to list even though I know you won’t follow, which just proves the point even more .,” Twilight said agitatedly, face setting firmly into stubborn refusal as confusion already began to leech into Link’s fluttering gaze. “No, you’re not going to the castle because you are very sick even after the help of a fairy, and the castle is overrun with monsters right now that you’re in no shape to deal with, and Time’s not there anymore anyway,” he said firmly, words flowing faster as the fear stoked higher within him, knowing that his mentor was somewhere that was definitely not the castle , Hylia please. He had to trust in that, no matter what Link said; the other hero wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of reliable resources at the moment. 

 

Time would have left as warned. He had to have.

 

“And… even if he was,” Twilight said shakily, voice breaking, “He’d want me to get you help first. So we are going to the stable, and then to the nearest doctor to get you whatever medicine or treatment you need. Okay?” He challenged, but Link only looked blankly up at him, looking lost. 

 

That settled it, then.  “Okay. Yes, good plan,” Twilight answered himself, forcing his focus onto this singular task. He took one last glance at Link’s drawn features and couldn’t help but toss a look in the castle’s direction, imagining reaching out across the bond to feel if Time truly was there. It was no use, of course; he couldn’t do much, and his range for picking up the other heroes’ proximity was abysmal. 

 

Stick to the plan . Nothing he told Link was a lie. 

 

With little affair he lifted Link up into the saddle, sliding a limp leg over and draping him gently to slump over Epona’s neck so he could mount up behind him, careful not to let him slide off the rain slick leather as the saddle rocked. Seat settled, he drew Link back against his chest, wrapping a careful arm around his stomach and holding the reins with the other, turning her into an easy walk after murmuring where they were headed. 

 

Between the rain covering their tracks and the murk that left all the trees looking the same, Twilight was already a little lost as to where to go in the orchard to backtrack, giving Epona her head so she could direct them. Once she settled into a direction he urged her into a canter, drawing a pained groan from Link as he curled forward over Twilight’s bracing arm. 

 

“I know, I’m sorry, but we have to get you to a doctor somehow-” Twilight tried to soothe, wrecked by the necessity of the rough ride. Link didn’t say anything, but a frigid hand gave his a single pat where it rested over Link’s stomach. Twilight’s mouth curled into an upset grimace, regretting that in the slick footing and tree scattered surroundings Epona couldn’t yet break into a gallop and get this all over with as quick as possible. 

 

The mare curved easily around a tree, hopping over a root, and though he tried to hold them steady he felt the instant the swaying motion won out over Link’s nausea. Twilight didn’t slow the mare though, for all that it seemed cruel as the younger hylian curled forward and was sick as they loped on; stopping now would only add time onto Link’s getting treatment, and they’d eventually have to gallop anyways. 

 

Harsh though it was, this was a necessity- they could hardly walk the whole way and expect to get anywhere soon in this newest world. So he let Epona gallop on, carefully supporting the other hero as he was ill, jolting weakly in Twi’s arms as the older hylian kept his gaze fixed ahead, wretched with guilt. 

 

Except…Link continued retching, and Twilight grew uneasy at the ceaseless suffering, curling around him as he let Epona down into a slower pace, trying to help the younger hylian find some reprieve. His mounting panic crested as he  caught the crimson splatter on Epona’s chestnut coat, heart jumping to his throat as he recognized just how fucking bad this was. 

 

“Link?” He asked uselessly, voice desperate as he jostled the other a little, searching for any sign of awareness as the ill hero panted and slumped forward. His narrow frame shuddered and contracted, and Link heaved weakly again, bringing up nothing but bile and then not even that as his stomach refused to settle for more than a few moments. 

 

It took far too long to notice the blood dripping steadily from Link’s nose, the blood along his chin and the rain masking the evidence for what it was and the angle of Twilight sitting behind him doing the rest. It was the starkness of the crimson over deathly white skin that caught his eye, immediately leaning to the side to find blood sheeting over Link’s mouth and chin, watered down in the rain and dripping dark pink as he dry heaved again, near fainting as he panted thinly through the aftermath. 

 

“Hey, it’ll be alright, I’ll get you help, okay? You’re going to be fine in just a minute,” Twilight promised helplessly, giving up shuffling for a red potion as he freed his hand from the reins to support Link’s jaw so the blood didn’t trickle into his stomach, hoping desperately that that had been the reason for the blood splattered over the mare's chestnut shoulder. 

 

Please, please let it have been as harmless as a nosebleed.

 

Potions wouldn’t do much, he knew that, but Twilight was fast growing desperate, and couldn’t just not try . Link was on the very edge of passing out as it was, the nosebleed’s severity impossible to gauge with the rain making it seem so much worse, or was there truly so much blood ? 

 

There was a rumble of thunder and a tree creaking in the wind. Link let out a weak, injured sound, and Twilight’s arm tightened around his waist, wondering desperately if they should walk after all, just to the stable-

 

Epona screamed in alarm and spun to the side just in time for something large to hit the tree she’d ducked around. It served to shield them from the collision, at least, but even as Twilight’s head whipped around to see w hat the hell had attacked whilst he’d been distracted, Epona pivoted sharply, whipping them around and forcing him to focus to keep himself and Link’s dead weight seated atop her. 

 

He barely got a glimpse of a huge, ugly creature before Epona slid to a halt, jolting to a sudden stop he was too distracted to brace for, snapping his head forward and cracking his temple against the back of Link’s head. The world winked out before he could fight it at all, everything going da-

The sing-song sparkle of rainfall all around. Hoofbeats, and something’s fury cried out to the world.

 

 

Twilight was on the ground, suddenly,  aware of the awkward slump of his body and a sharp pulsing pain in his temple. Something foul was in the air, potent enough that the rain wasn’t dampening it enough to spare him the urge to gag upon it, the cloying stench clogging in his nose and throat and making a bad situation worse . He groaned, dizzy and dazed even though he hadn’t even moved yet, fuzzily wondering at how the earth was shuddering under his cheek, the pools of muddied water around him rippling in rhythm…

 

Footsteps. They were-

 

He inhaled sharply, eyes snapping open from where they’d been drifting shut again as he drew in the sharp tang of fear on the humid air far closer than the rotting fetor of what approached, felt someone moving beside him.

 

  Link. Epona. Something big and trying to kill them where were they -

 

He managed to roll his head to the side enough to make out Link at his side, upright though slumped - thank Ordana he’s alright he’s awake - eyes fever bright and set in determination as he faced something past the Rancher’s back. The shake of the ground was enough to know they were very much in trouble. 

 

Twilight set a hand to the mud, trying to lift himself, because he didn’t want Link fighting back anything but a smile, and certainly not whatever was big enough to be slinging trees at them. He was forced to stop with his throbbing head down, dots swarming his vision, and gods but he couldn’t pass out now-

 

A swarm of bright lights at the edge of his narrowing sight, and suddenly Link was holding a bow, pale-faced and trembling as he knocked an arrow. He went to draw it back and failed, elbow crumpling before the bowstring drew taut, arrow nearly falling to the ground with how badly the other hero was shaking, his eyes unfocused even as he tried his best and failed, horror painting across his face. 

 

No . This was not their end.

 

Twilight was moving before he realized it. The familiar shape of the bow was deftly plucked from Link’s weak grip, arrow tipped back onto the string with a familiar twitch of his finger as he settled into a kneeling stance and turned to face his target. His head swam from the rapid motion, but that wasn’t enough to miss the giant, horrible monster nearly on top of them, hulking higher than the trees and holding one aloft as if it were a bat. It was a graceless thing, but lumbering at them fast, dark rolls of fat rippling with each stride as its foul mass barreled towards them, rancid yellow eye pinned on its prey.  

 

A handful of meters away and too large to take down in one hit, but Link had gone for a bow , and there was a clear target before him now- he could guess the rest.

 

He breathed in and nearly choked on the fetid reek of the monster, locking his esophagus forcibly against the urge to cough.

 

All of this in a moment’s thought; Twilight exhaled smoothly and released the arrow, watching it sink into the eye as his vision wobbled, sliding a knee out to brace himself better as he wavered dizzily. The monster stopped, thankfully, screaming and stinking and furious as it scrabbled at its eye. 

 

There was no time to celebrate, though. Even as it stomped in pain it lashed out with the tree, blinkered by its own hand but close enough that sightlessness didn’t matter, Twilight lunging for Link and pressing them both flat over the ground as it skimmed above them, rolling them to get clear as the monster thrashed around with the tree. Even as he dragged the other hero up the monster dropped its hand to glare down at them, eye pierced and bleeding sluggishly but not wholly blinded for the way it managed to focus on them, roaring as it drew the tree back again.  

 

Link’s knees buckled, only staying upright because Twilight had a grip around his waist- he’d never be able to run and right now they needed to get the hell out of here . He grabbed the other hero and hoisted him behind a tree, letting it take the sweeping blow aimed at them, bark and leaves scattering in the rain as wood groaned and snapped. Skidding in the mud as he swerved towards safety behind another tree, Twilight shifted his grip and bent to swoop Link over his shoulder nowhere near as gently as he’d liked to have for the fact that there was a giant monster right behind them oh shit . 

 

He brought his hand up and whistled, sharp and descending in a familiar song, and his wild hope proved fruitful as Epona charged into view again from wherever she’d taken cover. There was no hesitation as she blazed past the monster, coming up behind Twilight as he raced in full retreat, and he realized as she must have that there was no time for her to slow to a stop and let them mount without the monster closing the narrowing gap between them. 

 

So she didn’t slow, and Twilight knew what she expected of him. He’d done plenty of jumping on mounts before, but never with another hylian hoisted over his shoulder, and he only had one chance now to learn how to accommodate for that. He forced himself to slow to a less harrowing pace, evening his steps and praying he wouldn’t slip as he watched her approach at a gallop, timing her stride and turning to face her as he stopped, ignoring the monster that would trample them if he missed and fell-

 

Epona cut in close, shoulder brushing him as he jumped, gripping the saddle horn and only barely managing to snag his fingers at the rear edge of the saddle without dropping Link, leg already coming up to slide over Epona’s back as he strained to straight them out, his foot finding the stirrup as the saddle rocked towards him and locking his heel into it just in time to save him from slipping off as he jolted up to her speed. With only a split second before his grip failed, he heaved his weight and Link’s up and over her back as he fought gravity and the dragging air resistance both to settle into the saddle, muscles burning and shaking as his vision fuzzed from the adrenaline, effort,  and what may have been a minor concussion. 

 

Under them, Epona opened up into a short strided gallop, weaving around the orchard as the monster behind them howled in frustration, fast but not quite fast enough to catch the mare as she ran. But swift though she was, Epona had two riders, terribly slick terrain, trees littered too close together for a dead sprint and a monster threatening to throw a tree at them any moment, and for all that she couldn’t manage to shake it off their tail.

 

Twilight let her choose the path, dragging Link from his shoulder to drape sidelong across the saddle before him, the younger hylian all but unconscious at that point, presence across their soulbond dim and weak. He tucked him in close, gripping tight with his legs as he suddenly twitched the reins, drawing Epona’s head around and guiding her into a tight wheeling turn as the monster finally flung its improvised weapon at them with a wretched shriek. 

 

His Epona could turn on a dime at his directive, but though this younger mare was clearly less practiced and had far worse footing she did well enough to save them, drawing their gallop down to a tight swivel sharp enough to avoid the woody mass as it arced in front of them. Twilight curled over Link, feeling the shrapnel from the tree exploding across another hit him with little enough force to mostly bounce off, thankfully. Epona twisted away with a rippling snort, sides heaving as he turned her around and kicked her back into a gallop. 

 

He brought a hand up to support Link’s head against his chest as the mare leapt to clear a bush rather than swerve around it, cursing as he realized the younger hero had passed out at last, frightfully limp and pale as a corpse. His ribs rose and fell  too rapidly in Twilight’s grasp, his condition far too tenuous to be dealing with this kind of stress and strain.   

 

But at last, they were almost clear. Epona had finally hit open field and plunged into a full gallop, vicious satisfaction narrowing Twilight’s eyes as they finally managed to safely draw away from the giant monster. He glanced back just in case it grabbed another tree, coaxing Epona as he did in a mindless stream of compliments-  “Good job, sweetheart, you did so well. I’m getting you another apple once we hit the stables-”

 

A low, robotic beeping rang out like an alarm, and whatever it was had Link’s mind jolting awake again from the precipice of unconsciousness. Twilight cursed and caught the other hero before he could jerk right out of the saddle, turning to find what could be nothing other than a guardian, the descriptions falling short of seeing it now across the rainy, rolling plains. Spider-like it was, the sprawl of its legs triggering the instinctive startle response all arachnids ignited in Twilight, scuttling smoothly towards them with pincered feet, glaring pink lines pulsing like veins over its sloping shell as an eye stayed pinned on him. It had the same eerie levelness despite its running that a cucco does, the laser eye swiveling to face ever towards him even as it moved diagonally, covering ground far faster than the monster they’d just escaped had. 

 

They couldn’t turn back and shelter in the trees, though- there had been far too many close calls already, and he feared ending up caught between both enemies if he failed to lose the guardian back in the woods. If the stories were true, the guardian was far more dangerous, but at least it could be outrun on horseback here, especially with Epona as his mount. If they could just manage to escape it and dodge its beams, that would be enough. 

 

The beeping grew steadily faster, counting down in a communication Twilight couldn’t comprehend, the thin red target beam fixed unerringly on him as Epona galloped on, mane and tail streaming as she strained to go faster than the machine hunting them. Twilight cradled Link’s shoulder blade in his hands as he pressed them down to Epona’s back, begging that he’d be enough to stop the shot from killing Link, too, if it came to that.

 

All at once the beeping that had blurred nearly into one note stopped, and the beam vanished, and for a moment he thought they’d managed to somehow escape its range of aggression-

 

That hope was quickly shattered. 

 

A moment later the guardian’s eye lit up in a blinding flash, a beam bright as lightning shooting so suddenly it seemed to simply appear above him, just barely missing Twilight’s shoulder as he nearly flung himself off Epona’s back in a far too slow attempt to dodge it, the heat of it burning through his armor warningly even though it hadn’t made contact. 

 

He considered Link’s scars, and felt a howl of fury and grief roil in his chest, clutching tighter to the helpless hero as Epona raced on without breaking her stride, sides heaving between his legs as her feet flashed on and ate the ground up beneath them. 

 

The guardian followed, already beeping again, an incriminating red dot already sliding up Epona’s shoulder and crawling over Twilight’s arm to rest at his back once more. 

 

He didn’t know how long they could manage to elude it, had no idea how to fight it when it appeared armored all around. Twilight couldn’t even fire a bow, not when Link was slumped and jarring helplessly with each desperate stride, only kept on by his protective grasp. No, he could only trust in Epona’s speed and wit, in the way she must have managed to keep Link alive through this same danger time and time again. 

 

He trusted her not to fail now. 

 

In his arms, there was a small beep, drawing a twitch from him at the similar mechanical tone to the beeping guardian at their back, though higher and more musical. Link was holding something that glowed in the rain, fumbling with the same item that he’d apparently drawn the bow from earlier. Heart jumping with hope, he lifted a hand to help even as Link made a small sound of victory, smiling as familiar ribbons of white-blue light spun around them like trailing fairy wisps, like those glowing bugs from this world’s wild fields. 

 

His relief was quickly crushed by the sudden fear permeating Link’s scent, by the way he  tensed up all at once and pressed desperately against Twilight’s chest as if something were wrong . But he could see nothing worse than the situation they’d already been in, and the lights Link had triggered so eagerly, and Epona showed no fear of them even as they grew so dense he couldn’t see around them, so they couldn’t be it-

 

Even as the beeping blurred into another singular note, the sound faded, as did the light, taking Twilight and Link with them away from the field and the rain and the danger. 

 

His last thought, though, wasn’t of relief, not when Link had held so desperate a grip on him, white knuckled and curled small, terribly afraid even as it seemed they’d been saved, the emotion saturating the bond and shaking it with the force of his fear. 

 

Please, Twilight plead, let that too, have been left behind . 

---------------------------------------

 

It wasn’t. 

 

------------------------------------

Twilight blinked up at a blue sky, heart pounding from residual panic as he dizzily collapsed, legs folding weakly beneath him as he found himself suddenly standing instead of riding Epona, drained all at once of energy. He fell to his side and didn’t move, gasping and sweating as if he’d run the whole time himself, dizzier than before and right on the edge of… of-

The world skipped around him, and he shifted, eyes fluttering as he groaned softly through the pounding headache and worrying weakness of his limbs, grasping helplessly as he tried to gather together what had happened.

 

Cloth rustled nearby, a soft, wordless articulation that sank meaninglessly into his ears as Twilight struggled against the pressing fatigue to just… remember .

 

Last.. last he knew, he was… on a horse, on Epona, with Link and a guardian on their tails, about to fire another shot before they were taken away, everything flooding back at once as he twisted and pushed himself up, heart pounding anew as he registered the absence of Link’s reassuring weight in his arms.

 

He’d been so scared, moments ago, and so ill, and Twilight gasped raggedly as he tried to look around through his spotting vision, because something was wrong with the bond, he was close but.. But it was all wrong, and he didn’t know why , where was he now, where -

 

Movement in the corner of his sight, consolidating into a familiar figure, jolting brokenly upon the grass.

 

A scream froze in Twilight’s throat, heart stopping in horror as he stared helplessly for a second at Link’s seizing form before scrambling to his side, staggering and tilting as the world spun but gods, no, please he had to- had to do something - 

 

The other hero was no longer on the platform, and Twilight shied from the realization that he’d likely fallen off of it in his convulsions, hands hovering helplessly as Link twisted and twitched and strained upon the ground, making small, unconscious grunts as his muscles seized up. His eyes were rolled back, seemingly unaware as his body convulsed violently, blood from another nosebleed painting an incriminating path from the platform and smearing in the grass around him

 

Twilight didn’t know what to do- he had no more fairies, couldn’t give Link a red potion like this, didn’t know what was happening what was wrong what-  

 

Oh goddess, was this why the other had been afraid? Had Link known, and done it anyway to get them out? He’d been ill, but not- not this bad, not dying like he was now. 

 

Under his hovering hands the other hero continued to suffer and seize, and Twilight’s throat tightened, choking on the scream building in his chest, hazel eyes white rimmed and spiralling into total panic as- as-

 

The vague impression of the other’s mind drew thin, suddenly, a spiderweb bending in a gust of wind and ripping, strand by strand, away from its anchor, away from Twilight and the others, and he was losing his soulmate . Link was slipping away, a corner of their shared soul sifting away like sand, splintering the foundation of the Chain as part of its base crumbled. 

 

Twilight refused to let it happen, refused to lose another loved one. He had no concept of how to handle the bond, but threw himself into the attempt regardless, world narrowing down to his dwindling perception of Link’s callouses catching on fine cloth- the hearty aroma of homemade soup- a happy, tuneless whistle and holding it close, drawing it back and digging in and furling around it, straining blindly to hold the intangible a thousand different ways with nothing but desperate willpower.

 

Link… flickered, somehow, the static fuzz of his mind sliding into focus before suddenly he was there again, solid and weak but humming in the soul bond once more where he belonged, still and quiet and beautifully, blessedly alive. 

 

Twilight sobbed, shaking and gasping as tears ran down his cheeks as Link finally fell still, immediately pulling him to rest against his chest, murmuring a desperate stream of assurances and promises as the younger hylian’s head fell bonelessly against his breastbone. Twilight bent to press his lips to his crown, still speaking hushedly into his damp hair, hugging the other gently tighter. 

 

He froze, one hand pressed against the ridges of Link’s ribcage, and neither of them moved. 

 

Link’s soul flickered, again, and he still didn’t breathe under Twilight’s hand. 

 

“No,” Twilight sobbed, “No, no, no, nonononono Link, don’t do this, don’t leave us! ” He pressed too hard at Link’s throat, gasping raggedly in desperation at the pulse still struggling along there. Gently, so, so gently, he settled Link onto the ground with shaking hands, lost and afraid and helpless, his mind braced for the moment the shared nexus of their souls began collapsing again. He was uncertain if he’d even been what saved Link the first time but prepared to fight for him once more regardless, his focus sinking him somewhere deep and quiet and intense, the world fading out except for his soul bond and where it lay rooted in the other’s wavering mind, watching for any sign of faltering or falling away. 

 

A long moment passed, neither hylian moving. 

 

A quiet wheeze, and Twilight stared emptily as Link’s chest shallowly rose, shell-shocked and wide-eyed as he waited, unblinking, for the next, and the next, and the next, the fearful pauses evening out into something fragile but stable. Each gasp was strained, and shallow, but as they settled into a rhythm Twilight gradually resurfaced from the untouchable elsewhere he’d retreated to. 

 

He shuddered, his gasping inhalation breaking into a sob as he bent carefully over Link, all his senses keenly tuned to every small, glorious sign of life. Oh, the relief hurt, the hope agony when he knew just how tenuous this reprieve could be, but-

 

For now, Link had lived. 

 

And as he listened to the pounding drum of his own racing heartbeat in his ears, and the weaker echo of Link’s, a third rhythm grew alongside the blooming presence that meant safety, love, that everything would be alright, finally . 

 

Twilight lifted his head, and Time was suddenly there, worried, something sharp in the lines around his eyes and grief stricken in the set of his mouth, but steady all the same, his very presence enough to ground Twilight even as he struggled against the shattering realization of how close his world had come to falling apart. 

 

“Pup,” Time said softly, sparing a moment to run a comforting hand through his hair, pausing as Twilight turned desperately into it, tears pearling at his lashes as his face crumbled, shaking as he forced himself to gather it all together and straighten up despite the crushing weight of the terror-grief-panic-guilt-horror. 

 

Their eyes met, white-rimmed hazel against seering snow-blue, before Twilight’s darted down to Link, lips parting even as he realized his throat was still clamped shut, voice gone in the face of... What could still come to pass, if they did nothing. 

 

Time understood though, and turned to Link, tension immediately lacing every line in his body as he whispered a destroyed “ No ,” sounding shattered as he reached a hand down to their soulmate. He drew it sharply back, though, face setting in restrained dismay a second before Link suddenly arched between them, body drawn tight before he began seizing once more. 

 

“ Time ,” Twilight pleaded quietly, voice a ruin of horror and grief.  “No, he just- please, it almost killed him already, please -” And he was looking to the older hero desperately, catching for a moment the fear echoed in that ageless eye before Time turned to his bag, movements aggressive before he suddenly had a fairy in hand, and Twilight was begging her for help even before she was freed and darting to Link. 

 

His heart raced as he watched her pause, chest aching with fear that it was too late, that she couldn’t do anything, just like him, before the fairy finally moved even as Link fell still once more. Before Twilight had time to panic he dragged in an uneven breath, glittering and gasping and struggling but surviving, still. 

 

For now, barely, even with a fairy’s labors.

 

The knot of fear in Twilight’s chest drew tighter, and he forced himself to choke silently upon it, afraid that any distraction from Link would somehow be enough to tip the fragile balance of scales the wrong way. 

 

It would be alright- Time was here, and he would do what Twilight couldn’t. 

Link could be saved yet, surely. 

 

Surely. 

 

Hylia, please - 

 

Notes:

Twilight w/ a butterfly: Gotta be sneaky, gotta be stealthy, gotta be-
Twilight w/ any bokoblin: SPRINT AT IT FULL SPEED SO IT FEELS FEAR BEFORE IT DIES
Warriors: okay so Twilight is banned from battle planning

Wild: *tossing rainbows*
Epona, a horse, who is biologically unable to throw up: what the HELL is wrong with you

The Chain: watches Twi leave and Wolfie arrive without putting two and two together
Wild, delirious and semi-conscious: lol dude you look just like that wolf that left
Twilight: HE KNOWS HOW DOES HE KNOW

Twilight, smelling a hinox den: God what is THAT i hope I never smell what made this atrocity
Also Twilight, ambushed by a hinox in the rain: shit damn fuck SMELLING THAT COMING WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE

Twilight: Abandonment issues? I don’t know ‘em

Wild this whole chapter: 2 brain cells left and both of them are lying on the ground listening to the Mii song

Here’s the video I used for Twi’s Moving mount There's also some additional footnotes on Epona in a comment, since I once again went over the limit, sigh

Where to begin- Ah, Twilight! My lad, my darling, he ended up being SUPER intense about the bond, and I’m not in the least bit sorry about it. Twilight dove headfirst into Intense Emotional Investment for all the Chain members, and Wild was no different. It may seem like Twi is being a touch over dramatic when he says Wild’s dying would shatter his world, but from his perspective it’s already been shifted to include Wild into it as an intrinsic component, this ninth hero already factored into and melded amongst the rest of them in the soulbond, and the loss of ANY of them -even the newest- would indeed be a crippling blow to all the others. TWilight is just a little more dependent on it as a means of reassurance than most of the other heroes, and in the midst of his full on protective panic he’s especially shaken. Rattled in general, really, and can you tell that I don’t head canon Twi as a natural leader at all? He may be a wolf, but he’s not a dominant one; our lad is happy to follow along as long as it's someone he trusts.

Twilight can’t really get much out of the soulbond compared to a lot of the others. He can easily pick up presence/absence of the others around him, and he IS getting something of a read on emotions, but it’s less a conscious analysis than an instinctual understanding of how the others are feeling. Yes, this means that Legend, who usually blocks his bond, is hard for Twilight to read and about the only one who can lie to him unless he’s feeling very open. (Still can’t hide the olfactory cues, but nowhere near the precision Twi’s got with the others.)

For the record Wild had no idea Twi was Wolfie, he was just blindly connecting two similarities together whilst out of it enough to disregard all of the valid reasons the wolf and a hylian could not possibly be the same person. Which- he didn’t even claim oh my god Twilight. What I like to imagine is that Twilight truly thinks being a wolf mutes the soulbond completely (not on purpose, just a side effect), so the others don’t pick up on his feelings/presence the way they do when he’s a hylian.

(He is wrong, though I’d have to go back to confirm it fits with the set FtL canon; in actuality all the Chain members who have any skill with the soul connections knows he’s Wolfie, and even Warriors figured it out because I mean Really. There’s a betting pool though on who’ll be the last one to ‘find out’. Time was both incredibly touched and utterly begrouched that Twi told him nearly right away and kicked him out of the running. Legend totally shamelessly dragged Sky down with him when he ‘found out’ too. Twilight, in the meantime, totally thinks he’s got this under wraps with four out of eight heroes aware.

You fool.)

Chapter 15: If Found, Return to Dad (Do NOT Leave Unsupervised)

Summary:

It’s like a road trip, but only if it was the worst road trip ever.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Descriptions of weight loss, Vomiting, Seizures, Illness, Blood/Violence

Time at Chapter start: About 11:45 PM before the blood moon (Jumping all the way back to Chapter 6, before the blood moon)
Chapter Spans: About a day
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 11

Previously in Chapter 6: 

 

A musical ping, like a glass being rung with a spoon. Movement caught his eye, the map reappearing on the slate’s screen. Time blinked down at it as the icon lit up and barely had a moment to flinch and think ‘NO-!’ before he and Wild were both zapped, forced apart from one another as their bodies twitched at the shock. There was a sudden, furious storm of light once more, Time curling and twitching within the staticky fuzz, Wild’s scream barely audible over the screeching of lightning through air. He tried to reach out, but his fingers cast through empty space, a boom of expanding air as the magic all snaked out in one massive flare of light and heat and then nothing. 

 

Ringing silence, and when he could finally see past the light-spots burned into his eye there was no one, Wild and the slate completely vanished, gone without a trace except for the last, flickering sparks that vanished all too soon as well. Time was left alone and afraid, heart in his throat as he turned inward, practically clutching the now silent connection between his soul and Wild’s as it flickered and darkened, drawing thin-

 

No, no, NO!

 

He railed against the immoveable boundary of space, hurling himself desperately through the bond as if by will alone he could cast his thoughts, his mind, his magic, anything to join Wild’s side once more. Wild was dying, he was dying and alone and there was nothing Time could do except feel it happen from a distance, too far to even send comfort in his last moments. He felt the glimmering starlight feeling begin to dim and slow, and around him dark magic swirled and grew, a dangerous portent of the midnight event Wild had pushed himself so far to beat.

 

Over his head the faceless blood moon mocked him, and within him Wild’s soul was suddenly-

 

It was-

 

Gone. 

 

Time threw back his head and s c r e a m e d.

 

---------------------------------

 

His world shattered apart all at once and in blinding increments, a sense of ripping that worsened with each second, a distant heartbeat stuttering desperately, every throb utter agony but the growing stillness between them a pain that was far, far worse, seeping into Time’s bones and shaking every fiber of his being. 

 

Wild was dying, and there was nothing he could do. 

 

Not here, so far from wherever that slate had taken him, ill and weakened and afraid. Oh, but he’d been so fearful of his own item, and Time, fully aware of what it was like to have an item that was too dangerous to use but impossible to discard for the threat it would pose any other, had been nothing but glad that he’d listened to his counsel. Had thought the danger disarmed when Wild put the slate away, so heart-wrenchingly relieved it wasn’t a risk he had to take. 

 

It hadn’t been enough though, because when did their free will ever matter, and now Time wishes nothing more than that he’d thrown the cursed thing away and damn the consequences so long as it hadn’t ended like this. 

 

With Wild’s mind -bright, mischievous and loyal to a fault- smoldering and withering in on itself like a burning leaf, and for all Time’s horror and grief and desperation he couldn’t breach the gap. Only seethe and burn alongside him, helpless witness through impenetrable glass as he tried to pour enough strength into their bond to somehow save Wild from whatever injury was killing him, already knowing that it didn’t work like that . 

 

Their interlocked souls may strengthen their wills and minds, the companionship and support may help defend against dismay and isolation and powerlessness, but it had no physical weight outside their soulspace. The bonds were purely mental and psychological- such connections could not nourish them, or grant them any endurance that willpower would not. It could not staunch a wound or heal the body, and it couldn’t force one of the Chain’s spirits to linger in a corpse. Whatever was killing Wild was untouchable even across the considerably powerful bonds between the Chain, and Time, left behind as Wild was stolen by his item, killed by, could do nothing to stop the tragedy unfolding within that tenuous, flickering connection in his soul.  

 

A hand fisted in the roots of his heart where everything that nourished him heart and soul rested, Malon, each of the boys, every small wonder and little kindness that let him believe the world was good, still, and it wrenched something free, tearing the neat weave into a tangled knot as it opened a gaping abscess. He would survive this loss, he knew, but already he could feel the strength that came from the Chain’s interlocking souls waver and falter, a song missing a note, forever incomplete, the peaceful beauty of it tarnished at every gap in the music. 

 

Time railed against the horror of it as Wild’s mind frayed apart, barely holding its shape, and he screamed in desperate fury, fearing the moment it would snap. He flung himself desperately to the other, trying to soothe, to calm, to offer any comfort when all that was left of Wild was afraid and pained-

 

Another pulsing pain, barely more than a sting atop the mounting grief and agony as the silence and stillness stretched, a held breath-

 

Time sobbed, feeling emptiness open within him-

 

Another heartbeat. And another, and as the rhythm steadied the pain fell into a deep, throbbing ache, Wild’s mind settling back amongst the others. It was weak, but Time could feel the danger passing as it steadily reformed itself once more, like water pouring back into a cup. 

 

In a matter of minutes, it was as if nothing had happened, save for the throbbing injury where his soul had nearly wrenched free of the nexus between the Chain, the sharp awareness fading to nothing more informative than the simple, distant presence. Time exhaled a broken gasp, pressing in close to Wild’s unconscious mind even if at this distance it meant nothing more than simply being aware he was there, still. 

 

Alive. 

 

Time opened his eye to find he’d crumpled to his knees in the grass, curled in on himself with his forehead nearly touching the grass, gasping as though he’d fought a monster hoard. Slowly, he forced his fingers to unclench from the earth they’d dug into, unwrapping the other arm from where he’d been hugging himself desperately as if a fierce enough hold could keep Wild’s spirit anchored in the neat array of soulbonds cradled at the core of Time’s being. But he stayed bowed down for a long while, breathing and counting through the heroes nestled safely against his soul, distant though they were. 

 

It was as good as he was going to get, the only reassurance he had to lean into and pull himself together. Wild was alive, for now, and that was what mattered most. Time could only hope that whatever had saved Wild would continue to keep him alive long enough for the older hero to get to him and never let him leave his sight again.  

 

Seems a bit unreasonable , a small part of his mind acknowledged, before the sharp-edged memory of Wild’s mind falling away silenced it well enough. 

 

Never again, he vowed, digging his heels against the looming inevitability of fights and battles and injuries, the same fierce drive ignited everytime one of his boys brushed so close to death, saved only by a fairy or Hyrule’s intervention. He refused to lose a single one of them to this quest, pale eye blazing defiance against the thought as he finally lifted his head. Time already knew that there was no telling which direction Wild had gone; the distance was too great even for his considerable range, the magic he drenched into the air spreading too thin and coming up infuriatingly empty of that familiar sense of rolling in flowered grass-knife tantalizingly scraping over a freshly baked loaf’s crust- lowering their mug to reveal milk froth dotting the tip of a nose . 

 

Above him, the moon bled tauntingly as it slowly poisoned the world, the omen that had driven Wild to such careless desperation and still posed a terrible threat to the lost hero, far from any help the older hylian could offer now. Furiously helpless, Time unfurled to his full height and turned on his heel, striding back towards the castle town entrance where he’d left Dipper, her head perking up expectantly at his approach. His mind raced, considering what to do now that he was bereft of the younger hero to tote to safety. 

 

Obviously, he wanted to save Wild, having seen for his own eyes that the Champion was in no shape to be running off performing heroics in the heart of danger alone, to say nothing of the fact that he was also a sure route to the rest of the Chain. Time couldn’t tell where the other was, but the only assumption he had that wasn’t utterly random  was that he’d gone to the last place he’d tried, and that he was currently at the peninsula with Legend, Warriors, or Twilight, any of whom could be trusted to do whatever they could to help Wild granted they were in any shape to do so themselves. 

 

Time had been shown the map, briefly. He’d not had time to trace a route there, but even if he was confident in his abilities to traverse this strange land off of what directions he could pick up from Lawdon, by the time he got there they’d already be long, long gone, already having transported back out. Wild had said it was dangerous, but Time knows that if it came down to an undefeatable hoard of monsters or chancing that slate, Wild would return to Kakariko.

 

He didn’t agree, not after what he’d seen of Wild’s interaction with it and the way it had stolen the younger hylian away when he most needed care , but he knew it was the bitter truth that it was better to risk it than die in the face of a wave of enemies. Time could only hope it wasn’t so desperate a situation there, but the very fact that Wild had nearly died upon arrival, whether by slate or by injury from any monsters around didn’t bode well for the safety of wherever he’d been dropped. While the peninsula was a guess and a poor choice for a destination, there was still Kakariko, where Wild was sure to rendezvous to, where the others were waiting. Time could get directions there and be sure to meet back up with the others, his goal all along.

 

Or…

 

On the map, he’d also seen the strangely lit markers, eight of them. One where he’d landed, the others sprinkled across Hyrule, and one he’d especially taken note of, the only other light anywhere near the castle. Set to the west and not far off, not yet collected by Wild, and if whichever hero landed there had headed to the castle as he had they would surely be arriving soon, and he couldn’t let that happen. Not with the blood moon rising, not when the castle was nothing but a nest of monsters waiting to be reborn.  

 

The corner of his mind that forever tracked the time ticked steadily down to midnight, the sickening build of dark magic even an hour out boding ill for his ability to cope, already feeling the oily slip of malice over his skin. Time grimaced as he deftly undid the leather cuirass  in favor of switching back to his plate armor; he’d no doubt he wouldn’t reach the stable before midnight, and if he was to face monsters he’d rather have the familiar weight of his heavy mail, no longer quick enough on his feet to take advantage of the speed granted by the lighter leather.  

 

Clad once more for heavy combat, protective magic inlaid within the metal humming serenely about him, Time checked one last time for any approaching hero, casting out as far as he could for any sign of the others, just to be safe. There was no one, though, only the seeping sickness of the blood moon’s magic corroding his own, its darkness lapping hungrily at his light. It was steadily growing from a discomfort to a true distraction, the air itself like a sickness, leaving him weak and sweating and ill in its effects.

 

He shook it off, mounting Dipper in one smooth motion and turning her westward, the mare gladly kicking into an easy canter as he guided her along the road following the city wall. In the night, the terrain of the pock-marked earth and scattered stone ruins kept him from a full gallop, caution still outweighing urgency in the face of the very real danger of Dipper breaking a leg if she tripped over the debris in the odd, hazy half-light of the red moon. Time’s posture curled forward a little, one arm drawing around his waist as another swell of dark magic rolled over him, settling at that much worse a baseline, leaving him shivering and panting slightly as he determinedly kept his eye pinned to the ground ahead. 

 

The dizziness was manageable, at first. It had crept in gradually, following the mounting waves of malice and sending the world twisting disconcertingly around him. It was easier to work through mounted, legs tightening around Dipper’s sides to stabilize himself as his surroundings rippled and wove about, the mare, at least, steady underneath him. As long as his grip on her mane and the saddle remained steadfast, it didn’t matter how he swayed or how the world bucked around him, each stretch of reprieve shortening with alarming rapidity. The dark magic grew more potent, the burn of it like an unwelcome wash of Death Mountain’s volcanic breath over Time’s skin, drawing from him the same light-headed fogginess of heat exhaustion. 

 

He forced himself to shake it off, letting Dipper finally leap into a gallop as they drew away from the city wall at last, where less debris littered the road. The air throbbed and pushed against him like an underwater explosion, and the burning pain across his magic finally gave way to something far sharper, the malice growing teeth as the air simmered with ill intent. Time gasped, air knocked out of him as he drew his magic in even tighter than usual, but there was no hiding from the ocean of poisonous energy around him, not as the time continued to tick down. 

 

Time exhaustedly shook it off and pushed himself up slightly, though he was still curled over the pommel, features twisted in a wince as the pain refused to abate. He was forced to slow Dipper down to a trot, the frightening weakness growing in his limbs making him suddenly unsure of his ability to hold on at a hard gallop. Sweat gathered at his temples as he shivered under the feverish heat of the malice seething across the night-fallen fields, raising dimmed eyes when the castle curved once more into view as the road looped near again, the decrepit walls revealing the pools of malice within Castletown glowing more viciously than before, crimson and magenta so saturated they were nearly painful to look at. The colors and the psychedelic, mesmerizing patterns within their depths only made his headache and dizziness worse, yet he found it hard to look away from them, caught staring feverishly into the ruins until the wall rose up to block it from view once more, Dipper trotting faithfully on despite her riders utter lack of directions. 

 

Another wave, the world screaming as more dark magic poured into it, and Time couldn’t help but give a strangled groan as it ate across his magic like wildfire, flinching helplessly against Dipper’s bobbing neck, ears buzzing in a high tone that waned somewhat as the most recent swell passed, opening his eyes to find them farther down the road than before and minutes gone from his mental countdown. He tried to draw himself up from the awkward slump forward and nearly failed, left panting and shivering and curled forward, only barely coherent enough to remember why he had to keep going, why he couldn’t just sink to the ground and sleep. 

 

His boys, the moon. It wasn’t safe here, and they needed to be saved, still. 

 

The pain was constant, now, and as he grew dangerously light headed he drew back on the reins again, too weak to ride out a trot as the dark magic sapped his strength and poisoned his vitality. Hopelessly dizzy, he leant his forehead against her mane, gaining his bearings by the skin of his teeth, feeling dazed and confused as he tried to gauge where he was. Dipper walked on fearlessly despite the bloodied light and the ruins around them, the trees here long dead and the earth poisoned, the crawling sensation of a ruined land all too familiar as Time struggled to stay in the present as the world tried once more to slip back to the days of his youth. Slowly, they passed  a series of ruined and demolished buildings, all Time could see through his warping vision and the falling moon, the haunting cries of gibdos faint enough not to be a concern, hopefully. 

 

No, wait- rising moon? It had been falling before, though, he was sure of it… 

 

The hylian closed his eye, head drooping limply to his chest. The mare paced patiently under the shelter of a stone tunnel, following the road for lack of any guidance, ears flicking back as the hylian gave a vague murmur and slid off her in a barely controlled fall. He only just avoided her hooves, the horse drawing to a stop a few steps away as her rider laid on the ground, twitching and groaning as the maw of the blood moon closed viciously around him. Midnight was nearly here, and it was merciless in its arrival. The magic grew thick enough to be seen, inky plumes of pure darkness eddied about, the wind they rode on hot and dry against Time’s fevered skin. He shuddered violently as the power infecting the night throbbed again, fiery little motes of pure malice hissing as they landed upon him, each one another dose of poison to his distinctly light-leaning magic.

 

The blood moon rose in its final crescendo, the night whirling and alive with hellfire. It licked and rippled over the ground and over all living things, taunting and teasing and lashing out with inborn hate, ripping deceased bearers of dark magic back from death, letting malice flood once more into places it had existed before, an infection reclaiming its hosts. So too did it riddle and raze Time, searching for weakness, stabbing at him and sinking into his bones like molten metal. 

 

Midnight at last, and he could all but hear the moon sizzling through the atmosphere, the last seconds before impact, before fire and destruction-

 

He screamed in the midst of the storm, alone as he writhed upon the road where he’d fallen. His horse skittered from his flailing shrieks, already agitated from the dark magic but unwilling, even now, to abandon her master. Time was utterly lost, clawing at the ground as he shuddered, body twisting in agony as he tried desperately to escape the magic sinking into every inch of the world around him, eating through all his defenses to devour the very core of him. There was nothing now but the pain, the overwhelming press of hate and agony and fear all at once, and no escape to be found save-

 

The world convulsed around him, the agony climaxing, and Time-

 

-let it all go on without him. 

 

---------------------------------------------------------

 

The biting agony of the blood moon was gone when he woke. 

 

Oh, everything still hurt, from his magic to his bones, but the malice had abated, hidden still in the veins of this world but the hungry heart of which was dormant once more. Time was slow to rouse, sore and worn as if recovering from an illness, his magic raw as an exposed nerve within him. He testingly shifted an arm, a broken moan drawn from him at the low, aching pain that had no physical cause- no, wait, he had all but fallen off of Dipper though, hadn’t he? As if sensing his thoughts, something warm nudged him where he was curled on his side, muscles screaming as they were forced to move. Time slitted his eye open, finding nothing but an unhelpful smear of brown-black darkness before an indistinct white smudge appeared to take up his entire vision and Dipper lipped at his face. 

 

The hero gave a weary exhale, dragging a hand up to push her away, only to have her instead grab his sleeve, drawing his arm up and dropping it to flop painfully to the ground. A hoof plonked unhappily nearby, and he forced his eye open again, frowning at her with all the energy he could muster. 

 

Spite was a fantastic motivator- the scowl was fiercer than he’d expected, for all that it phased the mare as she roughly headbutted his stomach. He gave a weak wheeze but rolled himself over, trying to grasp at the memories leading up to midnight, fever-faded and flitting from him at first before the context came crawling slowly back-the blood moon, Wild being torn away, this new Hyrule and all its oddities, being separated from his boys. 

 

He felt a moment of rapid fear for them having endured the same, desperately hoping that they’d fared better than him, the only small comfort being that many were safely in Kakariko. Time gritted his teeth and forced himself to roll onto his stomach, head resting against the earth as he braced his hands, gathering the strength to push himself up. 

 

In just a minute. Just…

 

His eye popped open balefully and Time forced himself up, limply rolling his torso upright as he drew his legs in, draping his arms over them and letting his head drop between his raised knees. There. Better. Another nudge against his ribs, and Time blindly wrapped an arm around Dipper’s head to pin it to his side in something like a hug, half for comfort and half to make her fucking stop . 

 

Another hoof stamp, and he squeezed his eyes against the realization that he’d been unconscious for a little over two hours, chafing uncomfortably at the thought of being vulnerable for so long knowing that this world’s monsters had just been brought back to life. That it had taken so long only drove home how badly he’d struggled against such a tide of dark magic, and the thought of the others yet unrescued being similarly crippled and unconscious prickled anxiously at him. 

 

And Wild- already ill, and it was hard to guess whether he’d have a tolerance to his world’s phenomenon or be more sensitive to it as a hero, but either way he could hardly afford for anything to worsen his condition, the thought of him as pained and fevered as Time had been absolutely terrifying when he’d already been weakened to start off.

 

There was nothing he could do but worry over that though, and he couldn’t let the concern stop him from fixing what was within his control. Time could only hope that he hadn’t missed the window to help the hero he’d been heading towards, that they hadn’t bypassed him to go to the castle or gotten caught by monsters without any backup or-  

 

Enough. Only one way to find out, and it didn’t involve sitting here for any longer than necessary for him to get his feet under him. Time was already fully aware that the blood moon’s damage was done, the dark magic hemorrhaging into the air having bled wholly away by now. Gauging his body, he found himself sore and tired but more than able to ride on Dipper, the lion’s share of the lingering damage done to his magic, and even that was slowly weaving itself back together over the gauges and gaps scored by the malice’s onslaught. 

 

He was pulled from his internal wellness check by a low humming drawing in at the edges of his hearing, something like a vibration in the air. As the seconds passed it drew closer, and at that realization Time  stirred, hand patting unconsciously over Dipper’s cheek where her head remained contentedly tucked under his arm. He glanced up only to blink in confusion at the stone overhead, the instinctive panic fading as he noted the soft starlight bracketing him still, head swiveling back and forth between the two entrances on either side of the odd little tunnel that covered a short section of the road. 

 

He had absolutely no recollection of coming upon this place. 

 

Time wavered between being glad for the cover and feeling trapped, finally settling on the former as the strange buzzing grew gradually closer, the castle-ward side of the tunnel giving him a sheltered view of a red circle of light tracking along the ground from above, the crimson cast reminiscent of the moon’s earlier bloody light. It slid closer and closer, the whirring sound - was it this world’s version of a peahat? They sounded nearly the same - growing louder as whatever was above and out of sight drew near, pausing over the entrance before retreating the way it came, turning away before it went far enough for him to see it through the opening. 

 

He let go of his sword, shoulders only loosening slightly as he stood up from the wary crouch he’d gathered himself silently into, using Dipper’s withers to steady himself against the wash of light headedness- nothing near as bad as hours ago had been, and certainly not enough to keep him down. Ever cautious, he crept toward the entrance that had just been harried, watching the skies warily as he tried to pinpoint where he’d fallen, exactly. 

 

It didn’t seem he’d made it all that far, truth be told. For all that he’d had an hour to get out, it looked like he’d succumbed much sooner to the blood moon’s magic than he’d expected, the castle a ways off but by no means distant, though that seemed to be because of the way the road he’d followed looped around a small mount of land, the first of the group that rose up around him, just enough to shield his line of sight. 

 

There were ruins here, too. Signs of lives long lost, a well and a wagon showing it was some kind of town, once, by the scattering of buildings and the proximity to the castle. At the very least a waypoint, wrecked by the same cataclysm that haunted this world with every ghost of some greater, gloried past. 

 

Melancholic, Time thought once more of Kass’ song, of the failure and victory it described, and felt a stab of sympathy for those left in the wake of such overwhelming loss. He wasn’t allowed long to commiserate, though, as a silhouette hummed around an edge of hill, its strange shape hidden against the night sky were it not for the red beam shining down in an avid search and glowing lines and swirls upon it as it flew smoothly in his direction. He stepped back into the tunnel, eye keenly watching it approach, pause at the entrance of his tunnel, and leave again in a patrol pattern, utterly oblivious to him just outside its range. 

 

So long as it didn’t wander past its bounds and catch him, Time wasn’t about to open that can of worms despite how he’d marked the connecting points between the rotors and the bodies as weak points alongside the glowing, throbbing eyes- not when he didn’t have time to waste and he was only heading the opposite direction anyway. He turned to the other side of the tunnel, warily eyeing about for any monsters waiting to ambush him and noting that the ruins extended this way too. 

 

The pale moonlight leant a sense of ethereal otherworldliness to the scene, serene and sad. Crickets chirped, an owl hooted, sultry and low,  a soft rustle of wind setting the weathered house frames creaking and rattling the leaves gathered along a worn stone foundation. 

 

Time wanted very badly to leave this place, reminded too sharply of his own Castletown under Ganon’s care, desolate and haunted in a far more poignant matter than these ruins, old enough by now that they’d found their peace in nature’s reclamation. The kokiri in him felt calm acceptance at how the scene had been given back over to the wilderness; the hero who fought for Hyrule’s people railed at the tragedy around him and how places like this haunted Wild even now, even after Ganon’s defeat. 

 

His morose contemplation of the quiet ruins was interrupted by a stirring under the soil, in a way he was very familiar with from his own Hyrule Field, and he had neither the time nor the motivation to take out stal creatures on an abandoned road. As the first bone hand clawed up from the ground he turned on his heel and paced back to Dipper, the tunnel still high enough above him for a far taller rider and horse to safely clear. There was the first rattling cry through rotted vocal chords in the night, and with nothing more than a lazy flick of an ear back towards the ascending monsters Time blandly turned Dipper and urged the mare into a bracing gallop, her hooves digging into the worn dirt road and punching them forward

 

They blazed past large skeletal monstrosities, towering above horse and rider already as they shook off the dirt and turned to face them, eyes glowing brightly in their skulls. Dipper didn’t pause as she charged on, the stals’ cries following them hauntingly through the dark as they wove through the hills, Time’s gaze set to the sky watching for any of the flying watchers. But they seemed not to care for the roads so far from the castle, and the great ruin fell away behind them, the woods butting abruptly against a river ravine with a worn wooden bridge crossing overtop. It may have been grand in its time, but the supports and rails and every spare adornment had been eaten away by neglect and weathering, leaving only the weathered wood base standing strong solely because of the old spells worked into its making. 

 

Dipper clattered over it, only to be drawn up in a dancing stop as Time surveyed the road ahead distrustfully. Pale, arching expanses of stone bracketed the path like a great, plated rib cage, the greenery giving way to sparse, desert-tough shrubbery and tawny dust. It was menacing, certainly, but what truly gave him pause was the unsubtle warbling of monsters echoing across the stone curves, taunting. 

 

Time didn’t have a map, but he didn’t need one to know there weren’t any viable alternatives here. He couldn’t trace back to Hyrule field and an alternate road with the guardians now awakened, and he’d need to abandon Dipper to get over the rocky slopes that otherwise bracketed the road he’d come up on. He couldn’t afford to take that time, sacrifice that speed. His course was locked in, and all that meant was that he was going to have to wipe out the nest of monsters waiting ahead, close enough to the webbed network of roads that they posed a very real threat to innocent travelers.

 

He refused to abide that, refused to enable any further destruction or tragedy in this worn, wild world. What made him hesitate though, was something else entirely; behind him, a bokoblin had slunk out from where they’d been hiding amongst the last of the undergrowth before the bridge, cutting off his retreat. Time could take it easily, even if he’d intended to turn around, but the point remained; that was far more devious than most monsters were capable of, and practically guaranteed that whatever enemies awaited in the gully before him were most definitely infected. 

 

Fantastic. 

 

Time sent the cackling bokoblin a flat, withering glare and turned Dipper in a tight circle to face it, pushing her into a firm canter as he drew his sword. The monster snarled and hissed, standing its ground against the oncoming horse and armored rider with far more confidence than was wise, the combined power of Dipper’s mass and Time’s greatsword sweeping it over the edge of the bridge cleft nearly in half, its dying screams choking out before it would have hit the bottom of the ravine.

 

He didn’t know whether he was glad it was just that easy, or just irritated that he’d had to spend any time on it at all. The hero looped his mare back around to cross the bridge once more, the solid clamor of Dipper’s hooves on the wood giving way to a softer pattern as they entered the moonshadows of the arching stone with a healthy mix of resignation and irate impatience. The monster camp came into view shortly thereafter, the giant skull-like stones and continued chatter far from subtle. 

 

As was the rough shod barrier of brush and sticks across the road, adorned with just enough sharp, whittled spears that he couldn’t jump Dipper over it. 

 

Epona could have made it, though , and there was a flush of something near embarrassment when his first reaction was how much of a betrayal the thought was to Dipper, who may not be Goddess-blessed but was brave and worthy of carrying a hero all the same. He patted her shoulder despite the fact she certainly didn’t recognize the unintentional slight and she tossed her head good-naturedly in response, stride never breaking as she brought them closer to the trap. The barrier didn’t extend cliff to cliff, but the same paranoia that had saved his life before pointed out that the gap was likely intentional too, a means to route him exactly where the monsters wanted him. 

 

He slowed Dipper down to a trot, cocking his head as he surveyed the layout before him. “Oh, I’ll just go right towards the gap, then shall I? Looks innocent enough,” he said glibly, falling back on the old habit of commentating for Navi to chuckle along to. He didn’t indulge in the temptation nearly as often with the Chain, but he’d already begun to loosen up a little, Legend and Wind’s sheer delight at his sardonic passing comments charming in their own right, alongside Twilight’s overdone dismay when he purposely leaned into the ‘Old Man’ persona. 

 

They made it too easy to mess with them, honestly. 

 

He was snapped back to the task at hand when another bokoblin skittered out behind him to harry him forward, failing miserably as Time mostly ignored it to leisurely let Dipper continue on for a ways, trotting just fast enough to nearly outpace the monster running pell mell after him. They were in line with the first of the behemoth skull structures before he drew her up short, the pursuant bokoblin going abruptly quiet as the mare’s vicious donkey kick struck its skull and chest and sent it flying back in a broken, crumpled heap. Time circled Dipper around to heartily trample it for good measure as he pinpointed where the remaining monsters were hidden. Two archers based on the high vantage points they were posted at, and three other monsters on the ground still ahead. Not ideal, but for all that the bokoblins had proven to be infected so long as a solid, crippling hit was landed they weren’t difficult to take out. 

 

Good- this wouldn’t take too long, then. 

 

First thing was first- Time drew out his hookshot. A bow and arrow would have been best, but with one eye down and his magic too sore for his usual means of compensating for the skewed depth perception this was his next best option for long range mounted combat. He urged Dipper into a curving gallop parallel to the barricade and away from the gap, lifting the hookshot and firing as the bokoblin archer lurking in the stone above leaned out to take a shot at him. He clipped its shoulder, the claws grasping and dragging it from its perch, dropping it into open air as they drew back to Time. Dipper was already grinding to a stop and swiveling, drawing into a half-rear as she turned to face all the bokoblins breaking from their covers around the gap at the other side of the gully. 

 

Behind them, the bokoblin hit the ground with a crunch of bone, a glance showing it rising unsteadily to its feet but severely hampered by its visibly fractured legs. Dipper carried him close enough to finish it off, picking up speed as they faced the advancing group of bokoblins, still far enough that the archer on the opposite side of the gully wasn’t yet a threat. He caught the only one with a spear -the greatest threat to his mount, that- with the hookshot, reeling it right in front of them and releasing it in time to grip his sword and rend its chest open as they rode past. 

 

The second bokoblin fell under Dipper’s hooves, and the third to Time’s sword before they swiveled and rounded back, the mare rearing and bringing her forelegs down to finish off her kill as Time surveyed the last bokoblin as it faded to smoke, nearly bisected by the blow he’d given with a horse’s charge empowering it. The whole time there was a distant jeering, the only remaining archer taking potshots from its station above the gap, cackling as it waited for him to get close enough to properly take out. 

 

It had so much faith in the ramshackle bundle of wood and spears separating a weathered hero from his lost child that it was nearly pathetic. His magic may be too painful still for Nayru’s fire, but he’d hardly be a member of the chain if he didn’t have alternate means of pyromancy. Time drew a bomb out, cradling it in his hand as Dipper danced beneath him, sparking its fuse and giving it a practiced toss. It rolled oblongly along to nestle up at the center of the barrier, and Time turned them to canter off as he drew a second bomb, pinching off some of its fuse before hucking it at the archer as he kicked Dipper into a gallop past it. 

 

The beauty of bombs is that they don’t need to be particularly close to do things like, oh, knocking a scrawny monster from its precarious perch.  With a rattling explosion the bokoblin was sent flying with a warbling howl that went silent as it hit the ground at a far worse angle than the first had. Time twisted back in his saddle with a satisfied smirk, clicking his tongue as they did a lazy, unharried loop, the bomb at the barricade going off with an echoing boom that had far better acoustics in the open than the first, Dipper jolting underneath him. He cooed apologetically to her and leaned in as they drove a hard gallop through the smoldering opening, the barricade blown plenty wide open to let them pass unharmed. A wicked laugh escaped the hero as he drove them  through and raced along the road once more, leaving the decimated monster camp and their foisted plot behind. 

 

The rest of the ride was gloriously uninterrupted- he slowed Dipper to a sustainable clip, warily watching the deep shadows of the slaggy stone around them for further enemies. None were there, though, only the whistle of wind through the gully, the night deep and dark as the moon fell far enough to cast no light through the narrow, winding line of sky above him. By the time the ground slanted up in a steep slope and the crack above widened as they neared the exit, the eastern sky was blooming in pre-dawn pinks and roses, petal soft where it bled into the last of night’s withdrawing navies. Dipper trotted faithfully up the incline as the birds began to sing, flitting about the nests they’d made high in the pockmarked stone as the morning began to warm up around them, her sides heaving from the run to this point. 

 

The bracketing arches finally began to draw back, the arid, golden grass and shrubs giving way to a great expanse of green, rolling fields before them. The lush grass sparkled with dew still, the shallow, still young light catching on silvered spiderwebs as the fields rippled with gentle breezes. 

 

The castle was to his right, now, bracketed by the imprisoning behemoth stone pillars, dark and desolate against the clear, clean blue of the morning sky. A mountain rose up to his left, and he parted from the path to crest a hill, surveying the land around them; more ruins laying below, a glowing blue tower behind past the gully, mountains and fields and much of it wild and empty. Time turned back and followed the road, sitting easily on Dipper as they passed along the fields and the morning slipped steadily away, growing steadily more uneasy as he caught no sign of any of his companions. They’d not have passed the way he came; the camp -or at least the barricade- would not have still been there if so. 

 

He feared they may have gone to Kakariko instead, if they’d been successfully warned about the castle, but he’d come too far not to at least visit the stable they’d likely gone to after arriving and find out for sure where they’d been directed. Better to have a firm idea and solid information than to wing off on an assumption. Time didn’t like the uncertainty of it one bit, but at least this area seemed peaceful enough, whether by nature or by virtue of a hero already having passed through and eliminated the threats. 

 

Nestled near the top of a hill as he rounded a foothill, another shrine sat high to his right, peaceable and glowing. Time steered Dipper towards it, not even bothering to dismount when he could sense that none of the Chain were near it. From its vantage though he spotted the stable that could only be Serenne, and his heart sank at the sight. He tentatively let his magic blossom out, wincing lightly at the last remaining tenderness from the blood moon, like stretching out a sore muscle. 

 

There was no hero’s magic to be found though, not at the stable nor anywhere else as far as his range reached, exactly as he’d feared. 

 

They really weren’t here- he’d missed them after all. 

 

The validation of the last few hours’ dread hit like a punch to the gut, fear lancing through him, cold and sharp. It was waking alone in the shrine all over again, was watching Wild get torn away screaming. He’d been too slow and them too impatient, and all that was left was to find out how much ground he had to cover to catch up, hoping desperately that the stablemaster knew where they were headed.

 

Or at the very least, who had landed here. At least he had a means for finding out- none of his boys may be close by, but they’d have surely gone to the stable for information on this world. 

 

Surely, they would have, please .  

 

He came in along the road, and the instant Dipper came to a walk at the stable’s fence there was a pair of dogs trotting up to investigate, tongues lolling as they sidled up. When the mare did nothing but flick a dismissive ear at them, they drew closer, merrily milling next to her as they approached the stable, the counter manned by a tense, wary-eyed figure; a stablehand was peering frightfully around the edge of the tent, her eyes wide as he approached, but neither made any overtly aggressive moves or attempted to run. 

 

It was suspicious nonetheless from a location made for hospitality and Time didn’t like it one bit, not when another of his boys would have been here earlier. He’d gotten the impression that stables were safe havens, but this one was on the outskirts of a broken kingdom; corruption was certainly not off the table, especially when heroes were involved. His only consolation was that their behavior seemed nervous more than outright hostile; if something nefarious was going on, they seemed more like victims of blackmail than instigators. This stablemaster was far more distrustful than Lawdon had been, greeting Time with nothing more than a cursory dip of his chin as the hylian dismounted and approached, eyes lingering long over the marks on his face and the sword at his back.

 

Time did not like the growing suspicion that another of his boys had been treated with equal distrust one single bit; he was certainly intimidating enough to warrant it, but no one could argue that many of the Chain were… odd, at best, and of Warriors, Twilight and Legend all were armed and plenty intimidating in their own right. The man’s eyes darted around and behind Time, scanning for anyone else, and his apprehension sharpened, honed itself, the older hero skillfully labeling the immediate wariness he immediately felt in return as common sense, not hypocrisy.

 

Him? Never. 

 

There was a pause between them, Time’s eye sharpening as the man all but withered in dread. A surreptitious glance around showed no sign of awaiting ambush, no monsters in the vicinity. Just a stablemaster being oddly frightened by a seeming visitor to his stable, even if he was better armed and armoured than the average traveler. Another moment passed, Time waiting now more out of wary curiosity of what the other would do before finally the man’s nerves broke and he reluctantly opened the conversation. “Hello traveler,” he said half-heartedly before hitting his stride, voice strengthening somewhat. “My name is Sprinn. How … can I help you?”

 

Time watched his nervousness with a half lidded eye, humming noncommittally. He kept his voice relaxed, doing absolutely nothing to counteract the natural sternness of his bearing. “I’m looking for another hylian that may have passed by here. Blond, armed, may have asked after the hero?”

 

Sprinn’s eyes darkened, expression locking down as he shifted back on his heels, arms crossing defensively. “We saw him,” he admitted shortly, voice just on the cooly polite side of curt. “Sent him off to the castle. I’ll tell you what we told him- the hero doesn’t come by here.”

 

Time hummed, leaning his hip onto the counter, motions loose and relaxed and subtly intimidating as it brought him closer to the twitchy stablemaster. “That’s odd, then,” he said, voice low and even. “I just came from there and didn’t pass him on the road here. Now, why would that be?” He pondered, looking to the sky for a moment before cutting a cold stare at the man, standing still as a rabbit hiding from a hawk. 

 

Sprinn shook his head, nervous sweat springing up at his temples. “Sir, I don’t-” 

 

Time’s patience snapped at the prevarication, and he cut the other off with a quick cut of his hand and a loud, sharp, “Enough! Just-” He forced himself to stop, clenching his jaw and inhaling slowly against his temper, worn thin from the stress and worry for the other heroes and Wild alike, his one lead falling apart before him with each side-stepping answer the stablemaster gave him.

 

Teeth gritted, he reached for the customer service skills Malon had drilled into him before he’d ever been allowed to sell Lon Lon milk at the town square, grasping for the same calm politeness he’d given every disorderly, harping customer he’d had to endure under his wife’s expectant, threatening gaze.  

 

Sprinn went silent, jaw tucking down defensively, watching Time with wide eyes like he expected to be cut down. There must be a reason for his fear, there must be , and whatever it was he needed to understand so he knew what the hero here had been up against, might have faced that they’d be lost on the road to the castle. 

 

Directionally lost. Wandering, lost. Still alive and unharmed, lost. 

 

He sighed, letting his voice soften some before this could escalate any further. “Just…tell me where he went, if you would. And a description, too, so I know which of my sons was here,” he requested politely, dipping his head.

 

Sprinn swallowed, but answered all the same in a voice that was impressively steady. “He went around the northern edge of the castle, not along the road. He’d have circled around to the front eventually, which is why you may have missed him.” A hand came up to gesture at his forehead, trembling slightly with adrenaline, and Time couldn’t help but feel a little bad about the effect he was having on the poor man. “He had -tattoos?- on his face, black swirling ones. And a pelt. Armed, too,” he said, voice clipped, that last observation less for Time’s benefit than something edging towards bitter.  

 

Twilight, then, which at least explained some of why he may have missed him. If his protege was traveling as a wolf he very well may have strayed from the road to take a straighter shot towards his destination. At the very least he was a little less prone to attack in that form, so long as they were outside his Hyrule; the wolf seemed far less recognizable as an opponent to monsters unfamiliar with the form or Twili magic, so if anyone had to end up there, Twilight was one of the better options. 

 

Time still loathed the thought, heart racing anew now that he knew who, exactly, he was racing to recover. 

 

Sprinn seemed to pause when Time didn’t immediately react,  visibly gathering his courage before nodding his head towards Dipper, guarded gaze never leaving Time’s. “If I may- where did you get your horse? I’ve never seen her before.”

 

Time blinked, eyes sharpening at the odd inquiry. “I registered her with Lawdon- she was caught near his stable.” He cocked his head. “I thought that was the normal means of procuring one? Or did he try to pull one over on a poor, naive foreigner?” He said with a small, humorless smile, trying half-heartedly to lessen the tension. 

 

The stablemaster immediately lifted a hand, shaking it, face creased in barely-restrained panic. “No, no! He wasn’t lying to you, I just- did you want to see if her bond’s improved since then? I can check, if you want.” And for all that Time wanted nothing more than to press for more information on Twilight, Sprinn’s insistence seemed important, somehow, enough to give him pause.

 

Time already knew what he’d find, and he didn’t see what harm more reinforcement that he was related to this world’s Link could do. If nothing else, they could stop pussyfooting around whatever problem there was here; if anyone was going to attack Time, he’d rather not wait too long to deal with it. “Of course, do you need-?” But already the stablemaster had reached out and plucked at the odd bond between him and Dipper, drawing a book from under the counter and laying it upon the surface. He let the pages sift through his fingers before his distant gaze sharpened and he stopped, spreading it out and drawing a finger halfway down. 

 

“Oh,” he said softly and with great feeling, going pale under his golden skin. He looked up at Time, then at Dipper, then back down to the ledger. “Oh fuck .” 

 

The look on his face almost made it worth all the mess to get here. 

 

His voice was quietly horrified as realization dawned across his face. “You’re looking for the hero, and- the hylian earlier, your son , he was too- oooooohhhhhh no,” Sprinn’s words transitioned smoothly into a dismayed moan, the man bracing his hands on the table and letting his head fall forward in defeat. Less a deception than a misconception, then, and Time let himself relax just a little, sparing a pet for the dog nosing at his hand and immediately being hassled by the second ashy canine for her fair share, too. 

 

The stablehand piped up from where she had been blatantly listening in face warily relieved.  “Not a Yiga then after all?” And at his forlorn head shake she puffed her cheeks indignantly. “Sprinn! I can’t believe I let you talk all of us into buying your nonsense!”

 

Time raised a hand in bemused acknowledgement of the woman before turning back to the chagrined stablemaster. “Is there… a problem?” He said courteously, watching as the man shook his head vigorously, exclaiming “No! Not with you, at least. I thought you and the other were Yiga, is all- he had their bow, and was asking about the hero just like they always do, and the bananas -”

 

Time looked blankly back at his imploring stare, befuddled. “We’re not… from around here. I don’t know what Yiga are.” 

 

“You’re a foreigner,” Sprinn said, as if realizing anew what it meant. “Of course you wouldn’t- oh, the poor boy. I owe your son something of an apology, I’m afraid,” and Time didn’t like the amount of regret in his voice at all, especially when it apparently related to their treatment of Twilight. 

 

Time’s eye narrowed. “What for, exactly?” he asked, and his voice held an edge of menace. For all that he looked rough-and-tumble, Twi was one of the more sensitive of the heroes, and very much took judgement of townsfolk and the like to heart, even if he tried not to let it show. Unfortunately, by the very nature of their task and relationship with monsters and disaster, the Chain was all too often the source of negative attention, and even if the heroes had gotten eerily good at distracting Twilight from the worst of it before he could dwell too long in dark thoughts, they weren’t perfect. 

 

And they weren’t present here at all, leaving Twilight not only to deal with whatever Sprinn had said but also to wallow in it the whole time after, too. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad; their Rancher was prone enough to morose moods without additional help from others. 

 

“I wasn’t rude!” Sprinn defended himself, before glancing away guiltily. “But- I was a bit curt. The Yiga can disguise everything about themselves but their love of bananas, and they’ve been after Link’s head relentlessly since he showed up a few years back. When your lad-”

 

“His name is Twilight,” Time interjected with a frown, because that the other man didn’t know meant he either didn’t bother to remember -such a unique name and impressionable face when they can’t have gotten many travelers since then, being empty aside from the woman, he doesn’t think so - or that he just hadn’t allowed Twilight the chance to give it, which he would have, at the slightest opening; the Rancher was just incorrigibly polite like that. It was a small thing, but one more annoyance on top of his already bubbling frustration sparked his temper anew.

 

“Yes. Well, Twilight had all the hallmark signs of a lazy Yiga, and I may have treated him with less than the usual standard of customer service. Nothing bad! But- he asked for directions to the castle, and I may have given him poor ones to buy us time to warn Link.” Time stared at him, brows low in judgement. 

 

“Is it dangerous, the path you gave him? Where exactly is he?” He said tersely, lips curled in a severe frown.

 

“I sent him around the northern side- there’s no entrance, so he’ll have to loop all the way around before hitting the gates. It's just pure wilderness back there, no monster camps or anything aside from a hinox Link took care of ages ago- he’ll be fine! He was on foot, so if you leave on your mare you should catch up well before he reaches the castle or its Guardians.” 

 

Yeah, except not so much. Twilight may have left on foot, but as a wolf he could cover far more distance than Sprinn was accounting for, though he couldn’t quite beat out a horse. “When did he leave?” He checked, leery of getting his hopes up. 

 

The stablemaster’s eyes rolled to the sky in thought. “He left mid afternoon day before last. I’d say he’d be about halfway- but unless your boy’s a fool, he’ll turn back once he sees the guardians, whether he knows what they are or not.” Sprinn flinched. “I didn’t warn him of them, thinking he was an assassin and all, but it doesn’t take much common sense to see that they’re nothing to mess around with.” The argument sounded half-hearted at best though, as Sprinn took in Time’s weapons and seemed to correctly sus out that they were fighters, to some degree, which combined with Twilight being smackdab in the ‘reckless youth’ category made for a poor basis for retreat. 

 

He wasn’t wrong, either. Twilight? Turning and fleeing from a fight? Time doubted it, for all that he vainly hoped it was the case now. Sprinn had brought out a map, dropping it down on the counter before tracing a line around back the castle. “He’d be going here, probably following this ridge all the way around. If he caught the road again this way he may even end up at the Woodland Stables-”

 

The man kept talking as he pointed out the possibilities, but all Time could do was stare at the map, marking Twilight moving directly opposite of his own path around the castle, perfectly missing one another. Even now, he’d never catch up before Twilight hit trouble, and what then? Does he follow the longer path around in hopes that the younger hero didn’t unnecessarily brave the castle, or does he double back as he came and charge right in on the chance he did?

 

Does he hope Twilight was wiser than him, or does he assume the worst?

 

The tunnel he’d awoken in was nearly in range of the castle town gates, and Time was at least confident enough in his abilities to dodge the flying guardians and get closer still, but… so what? He could confirm whether Twilight was there, but if he wasn’t? A nest of enemies would still separate him from the Rancher’s approach from the opposite direction, and Twilight’s diminished range with the soulbond only meant he’d never hear a warning in time. 

 

He’d have to follow in Twilight’s footsteps- it was the safest route to account for the myriad of ways the other hero could have gotten waylaid or delayed before facing the final dangers at the castle. He leant closer, noting the Lost Woods- if he was lucky, maybe Twilight would have wandered into there as another common point across their worlds, comparatively safe amongst the what were always eerie but harmless enough woods to the heroes. 

 

Time didn’t feel lucky, though. 

 

Still, he took the time to survey the map, picking out Kakariko -gods above, but it was far- and noting there was no ranch in this timeline to be found in Hyrule Field, likely for the better considering that it was apparently crawling with guardians. Not that it truly mattered, but there was always something charming about seeing it through the dimensions, a particular sense of kinship and pride that it flourished in so many other worlds too. 

 

By now Sprinn had gone quiet, realizing the hylian was only paying perfunctory attention to his comments; they weren’t accurate anyways, not with the stablemaster unaware of Twilight’s lupine form of travel. Time nodded briskly to himself, pushing the map away to show he was done with it. 

 

“Right. Before I go, then- are there any potions available here, or fairies?” He tilted his head slightly, voice crisp. 

 

Sprinn shook his head regretfully, though, seeming genuinely sorry. “Beedle would be your man, unfortunately. He’s not come around in awhile, and I doubt he’ll be here soon with that blood moon making a mess of the roads again. Is there anything else you need?” A hopeful uptick, an attempt to make up for his erroneous assumptions and the danger they now posed Twilight- no, a possible relative of the hero, from their perspective. 

 

At his answering frown, Sprinn quickly rallied. “You can take the map- it’s only a general one anyway, and we can get our hands on another easily enough. If you’re unfamiliar with the area you’ll need it more anyways,” the man insisted, rolling it up and pressing it into Time’s hands. “One thing in return though, if you would?”

 

“If I can,” Time assented, keeping the other within his line of sight as he tucked the map away. 

 

“What’s your name, traveler? So when word gets around between the stables we know who came by?” And it was at that moment Time realized he’d never even introduced himself- not something he considered rude amongst strangers, but went against every customary politeness Malon and Talon had drilled into his head after he settled in with them so he wouldn’t offend every person he spoke to with far too much bluntness or disinterest save those who had earned more. 

 

Even after all this time, he only barely managed basic courtesy ; he was lucky he’d managed to accrue a reputation for being gruff but kind enough and left well alone otherwise. But Sprinn had a point- if it took longer to track Twilight down, it was for the best that they left a traceable line of information behind to follow. 

 

“And this is a trusted network?” He asked, voice low and warning. 

 

Sprinn smiled grimly at him. “If we didn’t guard so carefully against Yiga spies you and Twilight wouldn’t be in this situation, now would you?” 

 

Point. 

 

The hero hesitated a moment longer before giving in under the hopes of hurrying the Chain’s reunion. “I’m called Time, part of a group of eight, though many are in Kakariko by now. If you can, send word we’ll be waiting at the Riverside Stable, so we can hopefully stop this ridiculous game of tag.” 

 

Sprinn let out a weak chuckle in response to his dark exasperation, seeming mostly relieved that if Time was holding a grudge against him he was at least being civil about it. “Make sure you avoid the hinox,” the stablemaster warned. “It’ll be back, now, but you can’t miss it- great, stinking things, they are.”

 

He watched as Time mounted Dipper, eyebrows creased unhappily. “Be careful, quick and smart, Time. Best of luck,” the man called out as Time turned the mare northward, raising a hand in farewell to the pair waving him off as he trotted her clear of the stable yard and gamboling dogs. She was quickly urged into a gallop, arcing off the road and into the rolling fields that marked the backlands of Hyrule, Time adjusting his seat for another long stretch of cross-country riding. 

 

He needn’t have bothered- they didn’t get far at all. 

 

Like being thrown into an icy lake suddenly Twilight and Wild were there in his mind, alive and whirling with panic and confusion. Time turned his mare in a sharp 180, Dipper mincing to a stop before swiveling back into a gallop, cutting back towards the shrine on the hill, wildlife scattering about as they burst through a cluster of trees, the little structure too far away for the desperation slicing through time’s chest. Even as he charged back he felt Twilight’s mind follow Wild’s into the blankness of unconsciousness, warping weakly on the brink before slowly tilting back awake. There was something like horror, then, sharp and glaring. 

 

It didn’t take long to find out why. 

 

Not when Wild’s mind began to pull away again , not when the shrine coming into view as he blazed past the stable yard showed all too clearly why Wild was dying once more, again, to that accursed slate. The moments dragged by, Time throwing himself across the connection between their souls desperately as he leaned low over Dipper’s neck, trying to anchor Wild with them until he could get to them, could help him save him -

 

The nexus that held Wild’s consciousness guttered like a freshborn flame blown too hard, before steadying once more into a wavering glow. the relief as Wild stabilized once more overshadowed by the lingering sense of fragility there. As they mounted the hill he could finally see the pair in the grass near the shrine, Twilight curling helplessly over Wild’s unmoving body, giving no sign he felt or heard Time’s far from subtle approach. His protege’s mind felt distant and fogged, the quiet focus of tracking an animal through a lush forest-heady, musky horse scent - protectiveness swelling as a smaller body is cradled close barely reacting as Time brushed cool comfort towards him, worrisome in its own right but not deadly, thank all that was good and green- he couldn't take two dying heroes, the thought alone kicked away like a live viper. 

 

Dipper thundered up and reared to a stop as Time lunged off of her to kneel at the Rancher’s side in the grass, the younger hero’s ears barely twitching at the sound. Instantly, he took in the glassy, shell-shocked look in Twilight’s hazel eyes as he stared down at Wild, the bloody mess trailing from the platform and smeared on the grass  that showed the Champion hadn’t been so devastatingly still this whole time, the way Wild looked terrifyingly worse since he’d been stolen away over a day ago. 

 

It hadn’t been long enough to account for this. 

 

Wild had looked worn and drawn and too lean at the castle, but now- now, the fat had been wicked from his frame, the youthful softness of his cheeks whittled down to jutting cheekbones and too sharp jaw, the tendons of his neck and bar of his collarbone standing in high relief under clothes that hung too loose, different from those he’d been wearing before. Blood smeared his face, glaring crimson against the stark paleness of his skin as his nose bled, colorless lips parted as he drew shallow, staggering breaths. Those brilliant blue eyes were closed, his long blonde hair pulled free from its braid and tangled horribly. 

 

Wild looked like he’d been through hell and barely survived it; he looked exactly as close to death as Time feared, drained of any strength to continue fighting. His limbs were akimbo, flopped at strange angles, as if he’d been tossed like a ragdoll to the ground- but that wasn’t right, was it? Twilight wouldn’t have hesitated to pick him up, if it was, wouldn’t be hovering over his form like it would break at the slightest touch, shivering harder now as Time’s mental soothing sank in and he finally registered that he wasn’t alone with whatever was wrong with Wild. 

 

Twilight looked up at him with a raw, open expression, and Time was reaching out without thought for anything but comforting him, even if only for a moment. His hand sifted through the dark honey locks, cupping his jaw as Twilight turned his face desperately into the touch. “Pup,” he murmured helplessly, a wordless I’m glad I found you , a reassurance, an apology. 

 

The younger hero’s face crumpled, tears sparkling at the edges of his eyes as he bowed his head for a moment before looking up once more, as if unable to risk glancing away now that Time was finally there, bond roiling with guilt and pain. His lips parted, throat flexing silently, before he seemed to give up on talking and instead turned his gaze and body towards Wild, leaning back from Time’s hand upon his cheek with resolute resolve. 

 

And-yes. Wild desperately needed help, and getting him off of death’s doorstep would take the weight of grief from Twilight as well, more so than any reassurance Time could offer. He turned to the youngest, resting a hand gently over his breastbone, frowning for a moment as he registered the spasmodic twitching of the muscles there before dismay welled like blood from an opening cut within him. 

 

“No,” he breathed, horror stricken as he abruptly recognized Wild’s flickering eyelids weren’t heralding a return to consciousness at all, but something far worse, his mind connecting all the dots of the scene around him in an instant of clarity. But even as he realized what was coming the minute twitching he could feel under his hand stopped all at once, and he drew back in horrified shock as the Champion began to seize in truth, drawing a wordless cry from Twilight. 

 

The Ranchhand jolted forward, freezing before he could lay hands on the shuddering form before them.“ Time, ” he begged in a choked voice, twisting towards him desperately only for his face to crumble in fear at the helpless resignation on the older hylian’s face. He reached forward, clutching at Time’s arm, speaking fast, fearful words. “No, he just- please, it almost killed him already, please -”

 

Fuck, ‘ already ’? Time didn’t know much, but he knew that if a seizure was bad enough then more than one was far worse. He whirled with single-minded focus, plunging a hand into his bag for a fairy- they were well past the point of potions, well past conserving their supplies for a worse case scenario. 

 

There was only one way it could get worse than feeling Wild waver on the edge of death, and he was not going to be letting one of the Chain die today, not while there was anything he could do to stop it. The fairy’s glow lit up the bag as his hand closed around her bottle, drawing her out in precise movements that belied the thrum of adrenaline coursing through his veins as Wild continued seizing in his periphery.  

 

He less tipped her out so much as she flew free of the bottle even as he drew it back, shining a vibrant, saturated blue as she spun into the air, magic tinkling brightly over the sound of Twilight’s pleas. She had eyes only for Wild, though, hovering over him with an intense ripple of music as he convulsed on the earth, her little form tensed as if waiting for something . Twilight jerked forward as if to do something, and Time caught him around the chest, holding him close and away from the seizing hylian and the fairy paused over him. The champion juddered sharply once more before falling still, limbs twitching with a few residual spasms before going utterly motionless. 

 

Twilight gasped, shaking in Time’s arms, before the fairy whirled into motion and Wild breathed, rasping and weak. The Rancher’s grip on the bicep pinning him to Time’s chest tightened, his head drooping as he shuddered in relief, and Time couldn’t do anything but hold him more fiercely still, both of them watching the fairy glitter and whirl about, azure magic falling into Wild’s skin in an echo to the shrine’s turquoise glaze above them.  

 

But for all her work, the Champion seemed little improved, breathing shallowly and still far too pale, though his nose had stopped streaming blood, at least. The song about her grew faster and more frenetic, but there were no other changes despite the visible effort she was putting forth, a shower of sapphire blue drawn like a veil around Wild’s body as she flitted furiously above him. Finally she was finished, panting and displeased as she fluttered over the still unconscious hylian, dropping lightly onto his forehead and patting at his cheek, her glow diminished but still the same searing shade of blue as the eyes of the Hylian she was trying to rouse. Wild gave no sign of waking, though, seeming terribly fragile and ill despite how much fairy magic had been poured into him. 

 

That, more than anything, scared Time. 

 

He gifted the fairy a sugar cube and she came to rest upon his shoulder, dismayed that she couldn’t do any more to help. “You did your best, little one,” he assured her before gently nudging Twilight to his feet, humming soothingly at her self-effacing chitter. The motion was enough to stir the Rancher from the whirl of paralyzing panic and Twilight spun a circle, taking in their grassy, sunny surroundings before focusing in on the stable and hesitating, something wary crossing his shadowed gaze. 

 

“We should get him somewhere to rest,” Time decided, watching Twilight’s face tighten as he realized it meant going back to the stable again. Distraction it was, then- the worry would be more manageable with some way to help.  “Would you be able to carry him? I don’t want to jostle him on horseback, not when he’s still recovering,” he said delicately, crouched beside the unconscious hero as he dampened a cloth and cleaned the worst of the blood from his face and neck, enough that he no longer looked so gory as to give the folks at the stable a heart attack. 

 

As he did, it became very, very clear that in the short time he’d been gone Wild had lost more weight he couldn't spare; his cheekbones were too sharp, his neck and throat seeming too slender to hold his head up, the brutal knobs of his spine pressing incriminatingly against Time’s hand as he supported the other’s skull until his face was clear of blood, leaving the Champion’s bone-white skin unmarred.

 

And there was only one thing that could theoretically starve a body that quick, a phenomenon he’d toed the line of as a man in a child’s body before adjusting his rampant use of potions accordingly to his smaller body. Ideally no potions then, not with Wild already so thin and weak, but-

 

It didn’t leave them with many options, though, especially since the fairy’s magic hadn’t worked nearly so well as he’d hoped. And damn it all, but that was its own issue likely rooted in magic depletion from that accursed slate; he’d felt its power, and such things alway had an equivalent cost. Wild had been using it to gather each of them, and the toll was written across the ruin of his body. No wonder the fairy could do nothing- there was little magic in Wild for her own to work off of, and the effects of rampant potion consumption weren’t very treatable by their form of healing.  He lifted a hand to her, murmuring an apology for putting before her such a challenge, and she hugged a finger tightly in reply - tactile creatures, fairies were - before flitting from his shoulder. Her glow was still dimmed, but she stubbornly gave another sparkling loop over Wild, shedding more electric blue magic down in a valiant attempt to help, even if it was only a little. 

 

It made no difference, though, despite Time’s desperate hopes for even a small degree of improvement. The fairy trembled for a moment at her failure before darting off, not fast enough for Time to miss the tears on her diminutive face but gone before he could call out. They weren’t the only ones helpless here, it seemed, and the realization of his growing fear was a cold comfort when she had been their greatest hope, feeble though it was. Twilight watched after her, something breaking in his gaze as their surest means of fixing this fell through. Then he gazed back down at Wild, expression unspeakably soft and desperate as he eased his hands under the Champion’s thin frame, face tightening as grief rang through the bond. 

 

His voice was gruff from withheld tears, softer than usual as he tried and failed to hide how choked up he was. “Of course I can manage- he’s- he’s only skin and bone, Time.” Twilight’s eyes were mournful, expression pained as he knelt beside the older hero they together got Wild gently situated in his arms. “I just- what happened? He was so sick when I found him, and it was bad but not- not like this!” 

 

“That slate of his,” Time replied, plucking said item from Wild’s hip, face dark as he promptly redeposited it safely in his own bag. “He wasn’t so bad off when I met him day before last, but not well either, and certainly fearful of it before it stole him away to who knows where without warning. For good cause, too, if using it has left him like this. ” There was a quiet, protective fury in his voice as he gently raised a hand to cradle Wild’s face, arranging it more comfortably to rest against Twilight’s shoulder. “He’s been depending too heavily on potions too, from the look of him, which leaves us with little to help save for rest and food, and the stable is better suited for both. Now, follow me- the stablemaster has an apology he’d like to make, something about how he treated you after thinking you were a disguised enemy after their hero.” 

 

“After their- what?!” Twilight hissed, confusion warring for indignance before his face finally just scrunched unhappily. “I wouldn’t- well, you know that just as well as I do.” He gave a humorless laugh. “At least it explains why they were so scared. Usually I have to do more to earn that than just ask directions to a castle.” 

 

Time side-eyed him as they walked, Dipper falling in step behind them as he clicked his fingers at her. There was something deeper there than just a stranger being wary of Twilight, he could tell, but there was no prying it out of him now. It didn’t take a stroke of genius to assume what the problem was- likely linked to the way he so adamantly refused to outright tell the Chain of Wolfie’s true identity, jumpy at the idea despite how none of the heroes who had found out by ‘accident’ had responded negatively. 

 

And none of the others would, either. He knew that, because they were already plenty aware of the reason why Wolfie’s presence tingled faintly across the soulbonds in a warped echo of Twilight’s. But there was nothing he could say now, and it wasn’t the time, besides- not with Wild this bad off, not when Twilight was pushing off his own feelings to keep the focus where it needed to be. 

 

Not now, no, but they’d round back to this eventually. He’d not leave this trauma to fester under the fresh prodding from Sprinn’s overzealous assumptions, well-intentioned though they may have been. 

 

They moved as quick as they could without jostling Wild too much, the Champion wavering in and out of consciousness, never nearing lucidity. His eyelids would flicker every now and then, fingers flexing ever so slightly where they’d been arranged over his stomach, shaking breaths shuddering from parted lips. He looked terrible, the only consolation now being that Time and Twilight had him, and he wasn’t going to be doing anything but resting and recovering. 

 

Don’t wonder if that’s enough, don’t think about how little the fairy could help . Please, let that be enough.

 

They came into view of the stable and Sprinn strode out to meet them, hovering and anxious as they settled Wild into a bed, the female stablehand no better. “What- is he sick?” the man said, horrified dark eyes pinned on Wild’s gaunt face. 

 

Time kept his voice even, grasping for what control he had of this whole mess. “We’re not sure ourselves, but it’s likely he’s been wearing himself down the last few days, from what we know. That slate of his wasn’t helping either, I don't think. Do you know anything about it?” Time asked intently, gaze flicking distractedly back to where Twilight had rested Wild upon the sheets as he dug out dry clothes to change him into. 

 

Sprinn shook his head, though. “No, he doesn't talk about it at all. I don’t- I’m sorry, I don’t have anything to help, still. I’ll do what I can, of course, me and Zumi.” 

 

She nodded vigorously, hands clasped anxiously in front of her. “Anything you need, just ask. He’s done enough for Hyrule just by clearing the monsters from the nearby camps- we owe him what we can offer,” she said staunchly, still standing at a distance but genuine enough, by the determined look in her eyes. 

 

“Some water would help- drinking and some to help wipe the rest of the blood and dirt off of him,” Time offered, and the woman wasted no time heading out through the curtains with a bucket in tow. Sprinn seemed to recognize it for the dismissal it was, pausing as he stepped away to look at Twilight before moving back to the desk, holding his apology for a better, less fraught time. 

 

Zumi came back with the water as they were just starting to strip Wild’s shirt off, setting the pail down alongside a bowl. “Some of our soup made earlier,” she explained. “I watered it down a little to cool it, and made sure not to get anything but the broth, in case he wasn’t… ready for more than that,” she said softly, brows creasing in pity before she backed away with her face turned aside respectfully from his skeletal body. Twilight sent a weak smile her way when Time barely acknowledged her apart from a distracted hum, the Rancher helping support Wild’s lolling head as Time gently maneuvered him out of the clinging, soaked fabric. A spare cloth was used to dry off Wild’s skin as he shivered between them, seeming terribly small, wasted as he was down to little more than bone and sinew. 

 

Twilight rubbed his hands gently over Wild’s skin, trying to keep him warm as Time got a dry pair of pants on him. “What happened ?” Twilight whispered, expression shattered  and lost as he trailed a shaking hand down the ribs striping across Wild’s side, following the dangerous dip of his stomach to the sharp, brutal jut of his hip bone. Time was silent, just as blind to the cause of this as his protege. What worried him more was the wasted state of the Champion, his eye tracing worriedly over Wild’s emaciated form as he agonized over how weak the younger hylian was when he would need strength to recover. 

 

The Champion shivered again harshly and Time cupped a hand to his cheek, noting the unnatural coolness there, uncertain whether it was better than a fever. Wild leaned weakly into the touch, sighing softly, and Twilight curled around him even more as Time drew the covers over the pair of them, securing them snugly around to keep Twilight’s heat trapped where it would do Wild good. The youngest hylian turned into the Rancher with what energy he could muster, eyelids flickering at the swell of warmth, and Time jumped on the chance before he could slip back into unconsciousness. 

 

“Wild?” He coaxed, Twilight’s head jerking up at the epithet to turn alarmed hazel eyes on his mentor, the flood of questions behind them unsurprising. The Rancher had apparently not noticed the first time he’d mentioned meeting Wild before this, which- fair, they were both distracted and focused entirely on Wild at the moment. Still, he could see Twilight buzzing with curiosity, though the Rancher sank back readily and waved him off for now. “Link?” Time pressed a little more urgently, tipping his face up and away from Twilight’s throat where it had tried to settle, meeting dazed blue as Wild wrangled his eyes open, aiming for an accusing glare and ending up somewhere around delirious confusion. 

 

“Wha’?” He answered, less a true word than a questioning shape of a sound. His eyes rolled a bit, fluttering and wandering as he tried and failed to focus on Time’s face, brow furrowing in vague frustration. 

 

He hushed the younger hero, thumbs rubbing gently along his jaw. “It’s alright, you’re still dazed, that’s fine,” he said kindly, voice smooth and soft and encouraging. Wild blinked heavily before letting Time take the full weight of his head, relaxing completely as his eyes fluttered shut and stayed that way. 

 

“Ah-ah-ah!” He called softly, dropping a hand to shake Wild’s shoulder until those eyes -still a blinding blue, even glazed and unfocused- drew open again, his mind coming a little more into focus through the blur on the other side of the bond. “Not quite yet, Link,” he promised. “Stay awake, here, I’ve some broth for you-”

 

He snagged the bowl, checking that the tepid broth was indeed clear of any vegetables or meat Link was in no shape to do anything but choke on. Twilight drew him upright and Wild nearly passed out at even that slow, assisted transition, going impossibly paler as his eyes rolled back. After a moment he rallied, though, continuing to shift weakly even as his eyelids fluttered shut and he remained otherwise limp. Time tipped his chin up, feeding some broth into his mouth. 

 

There was no response, and after a moment Twilight shifted a hand to massage Wild’s throat in a vain attempt to trigger a reaction. “Swallow, Link,” Time said softly, less a request from the delirious hero than a plea to some uncaring deity. 

 

Someone listened, whether it was Hylia or another god or simply Wild himself, for the Champion did just that. With each spoonful he seemed to rouse a little, the combined effect of nutrition, warmth, and rest seeming to grant him an iota of strength once more. He was so caught up in the success, in the improvement, infinitesimal though it was, that it was Twilight who had to call him to stop. 

 

The Rancher leaned back with Wild a bit, a subtle indication to hold off. His gaze was caught on Wild’s face, frowning worriedly, even if the sharp edge of concern was softened when the Champion blinked tiredly up at him, peaceful and somnolent. Twilight tore his eyes away from their ill companion, meeting Time’s patient, questioning gaze with confident ease. “Time, that’s good for now- starved as he is, we don’t know how much he can handle at once,” the Rancher said seriously, some dark knowledge lurking behind the tainted relief in his gaze. “We can always try more later, once he’s rested a little,” he added, as if expecting his mentor to argue. 

 

But Time would never, not when Twilight was speaking from experience Time was lucky to have never encountered. He gauged the other’s mood, reading the same desperation to feed Wild until his bones weren’t pressed against his skin like seed sprouts waiting to unfurl, tempered by fear of tipping the fine balance between beneficial and overwhelming a delicate system. “No, you’re right,” he assured, knowing they had to be very careful, no matter how much he wanted to push the bounds. “We’ll go slow and play it safe.” 

 

Twilight relaxed, sending him a tired, grateful smile. Wild, however, used what little energy he’d gained back to put up a fight. “More,” he croaked, desperation the flame that kept his dazed eyes burning. Time’s heart twisted at denying the starving boy the food he so needed, what he yearned for and must have been lacking but- 

 

He trusted Twilight more, and the Rancher shook his head when Time looked to him to gauge what leniency they could afford. So he put the broth aside and helped lay Wild down again, promising, “Later, Link. For now, sleep,” even though the other was already fading away, lulled easily into sleep by the slightest curl of soothing warmth from Time through the soulbond, nothing more than the faintest nudge tipping Wild straight into the exhaustion already dragging at his mind. 

 

The somnolent satisfaction twisted as it darkened in rest, bitter remorse and shame slipping sharply across his mind before Wild was gone again in unconsciousness. The pained edge to his expression softened, but didn’t vanish altogether, his breathing deepening slightly but still wrong . 

 

Twilight shifted to get comfortable, and Wild didn’t move an inch, already dead to the world. “So,” he said lowly, accent curling warmly around the words as he looked up at Time with somber curiosity. “You’ve met him then, already? Sky too, or did he just give you his hero title?”

 

Time pulled up a chair and settled into it, waving a hand at Sprinn to show all was well for now. “No, he’d already met Sky. When I first saw him at the castle, it was a day and a half ago, and he’d everyone but you, Legend, and Warriors back in Kakariko from where the portal scattered us across this Hyrule.” He watched twilight closely, speaking a little slower. “As I mentioned, the slate malfunctioned, and a failed jump worked on delay and tore him away without me, separating us before I could help him. I knew where he’d gone, but also that he’d be transporting away long before I could reach it to assist.” 

 

Twilight blinked at him, uneasy. “I didn’t… I must have missed that. But- what do you mean, transporting? Is that what it does? He did take us away from the castle with it,” the Rancher mused, a small smile touching his lips before recalling the cost of that decision. 

 

Time’s ears flicked agitatedly, but he kept his face calm and still even as dread pooled within him at Twilight’s clear confusion. “Didn’t he explain it to you? What was happening?”

 

“He was barely conscious when I found him, certainly not lucid and largely incoherent. I didn’t realize- everyone else is okay, though? How’d they let him-” he cut himself off, because they both knew the Chain would never just abandon each other -even a new hero- like this, not if they had a choice.

“From what I knew, at least some of it is probably Wild’s own fault and the fact he could teleport away at will. It took me a little while to talk him out of just jumping us away, and that was after it had nearly killed him and well taken its toll. He might not have given them a chance to stop him, not if he linked up with one of them and realized the others were the same.” He shook his head ruefully, because for all that it had bitten them in the ass here, they understood the protective ferocity towards the rest of the soul-bound heroes. 

 

“He’d never have been able to leave them,” Twilight crooned sadly, curling his jaw to rest atop Wild’s head. “Of course he wouldn’t, not even if he was sick and getting worse, not if it put any of them at risk. Any of us would do the same, stupid though it is.”

 

“He’ll fit right in,” Time agreed, affection soft and muted amidst the concern. “Now, let me catch you up, and you can fill me in on what you were up to in the meantime…”

 

----------------------------------------------------------------

 

By the time he and Twilight were on the same page again Sprinn had wandered over for an update and to offer them some soup themselves, apologizing properly to a pleasantly surprised Twilight, who hastened to forgive him for being overcautious about Wild’s safety. 

 

“I can hardly hold it against you to be wary on his behalf- it did little to me, and was brave of you considering who you believed me to be,” Twilight said, and though his smile wasn’t as bright as usual, it still drew an answering beam from the stablemaster. He was lying, Time knew, or at least downplaying how much it had affected him, but Sprinn didn’t need to know that, and so they filled him in on what little had changed in Wild’s condition, thanking him for his hospitality and help. 

 

He waved it off, accepting nothing more than the cost of their beds, not even Wild’s as well. “It’s rather my job,” he demurred. “For all that I failed it the first time we met, Twilight. Take whatever time you need- I’ll see if I can get a message out to the other stables for your friends to get an update.”

 

“Thank you,” Time said with visible relief, one more worry a step closer to being fixed, now that they may end up staying here for a while longer until Wild was strong enough to head back to Kakariko. There was no way the Chain could be trusted to stay there with no news for so long, not when the drive to fix to save to solve ran so strongly in all of them, but hopefully if they learned all was well they’d stay put until they could make up a better plan to meet up safely. 

 

It was well into the evening, by now, and Twilight was dropping off, warm and cuddled around Wild as he was. Time could feel the call of sleep himself, but made no move to retire to the many open beds nearby, telling his whining body that last night’s bout of unconsciousness surely counted as several hours of sleep, which brought his count up to something wholly respectable over the last three days, and not the sleepless 72 hours it was acting like it was suffering. 

 

It absolutely counted. 

 

Sprinn and Zumi were on the other side of the tent, playing a quiet game with some drinks, unobtrusive and non-disruptive. The curtains were closed against the rain falling outside, the dogs having meandered in and settled to chewing some bones under the table. 

 

The relative calm was broken all too soon. Wild twitched in his sleep, jolting blearily awake and trying to lurch out of Twilight’s reflexively tightened hold as he was startled awake as well. The Rancher realized at the same moment Time did what was happening, moving Wild over the edge of the bed as the Old Man grabbed the bucket and got it under him as he was sick, spitting out a thick stream of blood as Twilight supported him. The Champion panted, face dead white and creased in agony before gagging again and emptying out another gush of dark crimson. 

 

“Time!” Twilight cried, eyes wide and terrified, but Time couldn't do anything either as Wild was sick again, head lolling as he shuddered and whimpered, the sound weak and frightened before choking out a thin trickle of blood, coughing and gasping as his nose began to bleed as well, dripping steadily into the bucket that was far too full of gore already. 

 

“I don’t have another fairy,” he said, mind racing for anything else, but there was nothing but the potions Wild couldn’t possibly stomach at the moment, besides being ill-advised except as last resort. “Sprinn!” He called sharply, only to find the man already at his shoulder, pale and wide-eyed as a bloodied Wild sobbed breathlessly and was sick again- still more blood, and gods, but how much could he afford to lose in this condition?

 

The fairy should have healed any internal bleeding, should have fixed this, would have warned him of the remaining injuries, wouldn’t she? And yet, here Wild was, vomiting up his body weight in blood from some kind of internal injury, in agony and oblivious to Twilight’s murmured comfort as he went boneless, already exhausted before the strain of being so sick. Helpless, they held him up so he wouldn’t choke, the minutes dragging by until finally he was still, the gush of blood from his nose slowing and stopping after far too long. 

 

Wild was left dead white and seeming on the very brink of death, pulse weak and skittering and utterly unresponsive as they cleaned him up. Twilight met his eye, a silent question as they both hovered closely over the shivering, weakened form of their soulmate. 

 

“Lean him up, Pup. We’ve got to try- he’s too weak, and I want to give him every advantage I can,” Time said, shouldering the decision. There was a good reason they didn’t try to give potions to unconscious companions- the risk of choking or inhaling it instead of swallowing was high, and dangerous itself when working with the amount of potion needed to heal wounds worthy of such treatment. 

 

But they didn’t have any alternatives, and he didn’t need to say anything for Twilight's keener senses to catch how Wild was only growing weaker with each passing minute, blood loss and illness and starvation at once proving too much. A potion was their only chance- he was suffering from internal bleeding, and for all the blood he was throwing up more must be hidden within his body, weakening him with every minute it went untreated.

 

There was danger in any of their choices,  but blood loss was a more immediate danger than starvation and malnourishment. They did their best, coaxing minute, agonizing drips of the potion down Wild’s throat. Halfway through he coughed as he breathed it in, and for a moment Time feared he would throw up what little they'd managed to wrestle into him, but he settled back, eyelids twitching. They took the chance to help him swallow down some more, but though it brought him around enough for him to murmur a blur of words and stare blankly at the tent ceiling the Champion remained pallid and weak, whatever afflicted him untouched by all the healing supplies they had to offer. 

 

Time didn’t know what else they could do. 

 

So they did what little they could- tucked wrapped warm stones around him to try to keep his body temperature somewhere safer, coaxed water and potion down his throat whenever he roused in the slightest, falling between absolute unconsciousness and delirious mumbling far too often to be getting any true rest. 

 

Twilight didn’t go back to sleep, sitting beside him even as the afternoon drew on, Wild only seeming to slowly weaken as the hours drew on. Time stayed close by too, still as stone except when he was fastidiously readjusting the blankets or swapping out the stones for warm ones once more. Twilight seemed to waver between drawing close for comfort and holding himself back, as if afraid of distracting Time from Wild’s care despite how there was little to do but wait and hope for it to get better. 

 

“If he dies, it’ll be because of us,” the younger hero said at last, eyes dim and hopeless as they watched the Champion sutter through another breath. “None of this would have happened if we hadn’t arrived here.”

 

“That wasn’t our choice,” Time reminded Twilight, because for all that he felt the same guilt, blame needed to be distributed where deserved. “Whoever sends the portals has been on our side so far- we have to believe they wouldn’t have brought us here if it did nothing but kill the hero who would have joined us.” Time didn’t trust said higher power in the least, but if urging Twilight to faith brought any peace he would gladly lie and pretend to have someone to pin hope onto; he wished he could have the same comfort, but he’d long lost faith in the gods and goddesses and the means with which they used people as tools.

 

Time understands the greater good just fine, but as the victim who's facing the largest sacrifices for said good he’s owed a little bitterness, he feels. 

 

The Rancher stared at him sadly before dropping his gaze down to his loosely clasped hands, slumped and despairing and not in the least bit reassured. “I just… we don’t even know what’s wrong,” he whispered, hands clawing into his biceps where he was viciously gripping his own arms. “We can’t help at all, and he’s only like this to save us from that stupid portal- even if he was sick before, there’s no way him getting worse so fast isn’t related.”

 

Time reached a hand out, worried at the self-directed hate in Twilight’s voice, but lost for words that could change the cold, hard truth they both struggled with. “Pup-”

 

“We’ve as good as killed him, Time.” His voice was wrecked as Twilight crumpled forward, finally giving in to the tears, and Time caught him up in a firm hug, tucking his head into Twilight’s hair as he felt pressure behind his own eyes. “He’s ours, and he’s so good, and he’s dying for us, and there’s nothing- nothing…” His words fell apart into sobs, burying his face into Time’s chest as he hugged back a touch too desperately, pressing close to the comforting calm the older hero was drenching their bond with. 

 

“He’s part of the Chain, Pup. He’s a hero same as all of us, and that’s what drove him to this just as much as our needing help. Whatever happens, however this ends-” and he had to stop, throat closing in horror at the thought, burning tears falling from his closed eyes as he continued in a strangled voice, because he had to say it, Twilight had to know, couldn’t take this on himself- “We’re no more to blame than he is. We couldn’t help being scattered and helpless, and he could never have refused to rescue us, regardless of the cost, not as soon as the first soulbond linked up and he knew what we were to him.”

 

Twilight shuddered, grief too deep for the truth of the words to bring comfort yet- but he knew they had sunk in regardless, and their worth would come about once the initial pain passed. Heavens knew there was time enough for his protege to let them sink in, once he’d cleared his mind a little. 

 

Grief came in waves, after all. Vicious, drowning waves, but not constant- only carried on thoughts and memories, on actions that brought to mind… but no, Wild wasn’t gone . There would be no grief, and the guilt would be best eased with the Champion’s words once he was well enough to deliver them himself. 

 

He breathed, slow and steady and carefully timed, in and out, before continuing gently. “It’s a terrible sacrifice, but we cannot take from him his right to the choice he made, nor belittle it. All we can do is make sure he lives to get scolded for his recklessness,” Time said, voice low and thrumming, the calming tones touched with sadness that he didn’t bother to hide from the other.  

 

“We need to show him the family he just gained,” Twilight said softly, grief receding back into desperation as a new goal emerged. “I want to know more about him, want to know him, want to meet our brother in truth,” he admitted softly, the yearning a quiet agony against the uncertainty looming over them all. 

 

It was all any of them wanted, and they were powerless now to fight for the chance. “We will, Twilight, we have to trust Wild to fight for us. He’s felt the soulbonds, knows what they promise- he won’t let go of that. He won’t leave us, not so long as he can help it.” That was the most that he could guarantee, all that he was sure of- Wild wouldn’t let go of his soulmates, would give everything to stay with them, to have more time together, with the same utter desperation he and Twilight felt now to somehow save him. 

 

(But death wasn’t something that could be fought back with will alone, and all the stubbornness in the world couldn’t tie a mind to a body too far gone .) 

 

He could only hope that Wild could survive, that they’d made it in time and that the fairy and potions had done enough. Only time would tell, though, and so they waited, tense and fearful, watching every weak motion Wild made, keeping him warm and as comfortable as possible, watching with wild hope as some color drew back into that gaunt face. 

 

By the time Wild finally woke in truth, Twilight was reduced to pacing to burn off nervous energy, and Time himself was silent and watchful, any of Sprinn’s attempts at conversation failing under his one-word answers, too agitated to devote any energy to caring for social niceties at the moment. At first it seemed the Champion was only stirring restlessly once more, until he propped himself up on an elbow, blue eyes half lidded and afraid as he brought a trembling hand to his head. 

 

Twilight was at his side in a moment, startling Wild and drawing that bright gaze to him, glazed but aware, finally, even if the cost of his lucidity was an instantaneous breakdown into tears. Twilight drew him close, hushing him in a near mirror image of Time’s comfort earlier, though he handled the tearful, exhausted hero with far more grace than Time’s clumsy reassurances. He couldn’t imagine the stress Wild was under, couldn’t blame him for falling apart when his hardships were written in his wasted body and worn mind. 

 

He let Twilight comfort their youngest, felt the swell of protectiveness and heartache rise in his chest at the sight of them together, holding tight as the panic and confusion faded in the soul bond strung between all three, washed steadily away by tears and the soothing forest song Time let play in their minds. Finally, Wild drew away, shaky and exhausted but lighter, somehow, more settled despite the concerning fragility in the way he leant on Twilight still, head bobbing unsteadily as he looked at his surroundings, the most aware he’d been since they’d brought him here.

 

From the dazed befuddlement as he met Time’s eye, he didn’t recall much of that whole ordeal, and the Old Man couldn’t help but be glad; there was nothing of the seizures and blood and broken rambling of the last few hours that he wanted left to haunt the younger hero. Seeing him now, shaky and coherent, if not entirely lucid, was enough of a relief to make him glad he was sitting down for how his joints went loose at the headiness of the emotion.  

 

It took a moment to realize the flood of relief wasn’t all him, though, as Wild’s eyes glistened anew with fresh tears, gladness and joy etching onto his expression as he reached for Time, laughing as his breath hitched in a sob, and oh, but he should have realized Wild would be just as afraid for him, left behind with a blood moon fast arriving. The younger hadn’t known enough to be aware of his skill, but considering how badly midnight had affected him the concern that left the Champion collapsed into his arms crying for joy of his well being wasn’t terribly uncalled for, either. 

 

So he clutched the other too in desperate relief, tucking Wild’s head to his heart and pressing a kiss into his hair, careful not to hold too tightly to the fragile quivering against him. “Thank the Three,” he whispered, rocking them slightly as he rode the lingering joy-relief-desperation coursing between them, eroding it gently away with humming calm.  He cupped a hand around the back of Wild’s head, unspeakably glad. “You’re alright, you’re still here,” he marveled, something desperate in the words as he shuddered at how close they’d come to losing Wild, how close they still were. 

 

Wild twisted to look up at him, hand resting at Time’s wrist as he gently held Wild’s jawline, glowing lapis roving over his face as if searching for hidden injury, catching on the bags under his eye and the worried crease upon his brow. When he spoke, his voice was a shell of itself, reverent and frightened.”I thought you were dead,” Wild breathed, eyes dimming and going somewhere far away. “I thought the slate tore you apart and left you there, scattered into light.”

 

Fearful of the way Wild seemed to be drifting away, Time pressed his fingers more firmly against his jawline, taking a moment to breathe through the remorse of the event beyond their control that tore them apart, causing such panic for both of them alike, leaving Wild alone to spiral, body and mind alike. “I feared the same. But we were both wrong, and we’re both here now,” he said, voice gentle and terribly intense, holding Wild’s gaze fiercely. “We’ll fix this, Wild,” he promised as Wild swayed weakly into his grasp, begging that it not end in a lie. 

 

Twilight seemed to take heart from it as well, bracketing Wild in a hug that reached around Time too, the Champion laughing brightly between them, the sound teary but purely happy, joy and wonder swooping dizzily through the soulbond. It resonated between them, building into a bright haze, Twilight slumping into Time’s shoulder as the older hylian smiled, Wild weeping silently between them as he rode the endorphin high. 

 

The moment gradually dimmed and passed, the cuddle pulling away as Wild began to slump and fade out again, worn from the rampant emotional expenditure. Time helped prop him against Twilight’s shoulder, with a gentle “I have more broth for you,” gathering the bowl they had waiting in the hopes that Wild would wake up enough to drink it. He’d gone far too long in their care without food for how thin he already was, especially if he’d been sick even before Twilight met up with him this afternoon. He needed strength to survive right now, and he wasn’t going to get it from water and potions alone. 

 

Wild seemed to disagree once more, letting out a grumpy sound as he sprawled against Twilight, mouth curving into a belligerent frown, but though it was cute he didn’t stand a chance against Time at his best, and with his well being on the line there was absolutely no way he was getting out of drinking some soup. Nauseous or not, Wild had to attempt to keep something down- he couldn't keep going without. 

 

“I know,” Time soothed, “But you have to try. You’ve gone too long without food or water now, we’ve got to get something inside you.” He let his voice roll out deep and purring, pillowing Wild’s mind with soft, tranquil thoughts, trying to coax the other into working with him. 

 

Wild let his head fall back to glare half-heartedly up at the ceiling before sighing and sipping at the proffered spoon excitedly. Even that was enough to sap the color from his cheeks, biting out a short “I don’tthink-” before his lips clamped shut and he tensed for a long moment before slumping once more, seeming to gather his courage before determinedly opening his mouth expectantly for more.

 

Time obliged after pausing to make sure he wouldn’t be immediately sick, but the warnings hadn’t been empty threats, and the meager portion he’d downed was quick to make a reappearance. Wild shivered hard as he leaned over the bucket but sat up and met Time’s worried gaze evenly, gesturing for more soup insistently, eyes burning. 

 

At Time’s flat, assessing stare he only opened his mouth and “Ahhh’ed,” something impish peeking through his baby bird impression despite the way his complexion was still distinctly off. Twilight was far more dubious, face creased in worry as he looked between Time’s now-bemused mien and Wild’s finger jabbing at his mouth, as if maybe it was unclear what he wanted. His country accent was thicker than usual, vague distress lining his words as he prevaricated, “I don’t think…”

 

Time cut him off neatly, though, respecting Wild’s decision to continue on. “We have to try, Pup,” he said gently, and try they did. 

 

Again, and again, to no avail. No matter how slow they went or how little Wild ate, within minutes he was inevitably ill, left trembling and weakened in the wake of each failure. But still they tried, because by now it had been hours since he’d kept any liquid down, and with the blood loss he’d suffered he was in desperate need of hydration, if only his stomach could be made to see sense. He needed water, and if it took a few rounds battling nausea to get there, then that was a sacrifice they had to make for the greater good, with Wild stubbornly leading the charge. 

 

It was no use, though. The Champion went from pushing them onwards to lying weakly against Twilight in subdued acceptance to barely semi-conscious as he heaved up bloodied bile, slurring broken, incoherent sentences as he panted in the aftermath. HIs decline was marked in waves of illness, energy sapped from his meager reserves as his body revolted viciously, wasting precious resources in the effort to expunge anything utilizable being introduced.  

 

Time felt like jaws were closing shut around him, like he was sinking farther from the surface, drawn inexorably away from any hope of getting out of this with the Chain intact, helpless and drowning in guilt and horror and desperation to do more. 

 

This was all they could do, though, and it had taken its toll on their companion. The Champion wasn’t with them at all anymore, holding onto consciousness by the barest thread as his body viciously revolted against their every attempt to save him. Wild was utterly boneless as they drew him up from his curl over the bucket, eyes closed but flickering. He was murmuring something about zora, Time thought, about water and thirst, eyes rolling blindly for a moment before he gagged, dry heaving painfully around a long empty stomach before going utterly limp, gasping raggedly. He was clearly at the end of his endurance, all but unconscious now, sweat slicked and nothing but worse off than they’d started. 

 

All this for nothing, for worse than nothing. The silence was heavy between the older two heroes, their shared glance weighed down with despair and desperation and bargaining as Wild let out a weak whisper of a keen. 

 

They were done for now. Only for now, though, because hopefully- “We can try when you wake up next, Wild, it’s alright. You can rest, you did well,” Time assured the Champion, worried at the foggy smear of negativity on his side of the bond. He didn’t want to, not after watching Wild suffer for so long with nothing to show for it. 

 

They didn’t have a choice, not if he was to have any chance at all.

 

The Rancher brushed Wild’s sweat-soaked hair back, lingering before drawing his arm away to leave the Champion resting once more in the nest of blankets they’d gathered for him. “Go to sleep, Wild, we’ll be here when you wake up. We’ll fix this,” Twilight said softly, accent thick in his distress.  

 

Another small, sad sound, little more than a pained exhale, and Twilight curled forward, clutching his chest. ‘ Please ,” he begged skyward, but there was no answer but the shallow wheezing of the skeletal figure on the bed. He clenched his eyes closed, jaw clenching before his whole body fell limp in defeat. 

 

“He’s dying,” Twilight said in a flat tone, hollowed out of any denial. 

 

“We can’t save him here,” Time agreed, face drawn in premature grief. It was all too clear that Wild was already caught in a downward spiral, too ill for any remedies to help, a problem whose symptoms only exacerbated itself as everything worsened. “Maybe a Great Fairy could, but Sprinn doesn’t know of them, nonetheless where they would be. Our only hope is Kakariko, and Hyrule.”

 

Twilight breathed in sharply. “It’s far- and on horseback, in this condition?” His tone was aggressive almost before he pulled himself up short. “We… don’t have a choice.” Flat. Resigned. 

 

Afraid in the same way Time was. 

 

“There’s no hope for him here, and time’s already running out when he cannot keep anything down and keeps throwing up this much blood,” he said grimly. “Prolonging the decision won’t help finding a solution- it’s not here, not with us.” 

 

“I know that!” Twilight cried, “I know! We haven’t done anything to help, not at all ! At least you had the fairy, though. At least you were there days ago, not- not fucking around in the fields, lost!” He jolted backwards, shoulders drawing up tight as his teeth snapped at how fast he clamped his mouth shut, closing up all at once as he realized he’d said too much, been too honest. 

 

Like he was admitting something shameful, and feared Time would confirm all the horrible things he’d been thinking of himself this whole time. 

 

Time’s heart ached at the realization, searching desperately for the words that would fix this, that would help. “Twilight, it’s not your fault. You did your best, got there as fast as you could once you realized the severity of the situation.” He’d been distinctly vague on what, exactly, had happened in the fields behind the castle, but the pervading guilty aura pressing down on his pup’s shoulders as he admitted to ‘wasting time’ with a wolf pack hurt, the way his eyes softened even then at the thought of them only proving that he’d enjoyed that time, right up until he realized how badly he’d been needed elsewhere. 

 

Time would never have wanted to taint such contentment, not with this. 

 

Twilight’s voice was all misery, sharp at the edges where he was furious with himself. “It could have been faster. I should have hurried, should have expected the worst, planned for it.” 

 

Time hummed disagreeably, crossing his arms as he looked out into the sliver of dusk visible through the closed curtains. “None of the others were even close to the castle, you know that? None of them managed to stop Wild either, and I know you don’t blame them, not really.” He straightened up, command settling easily over his shoulders as he reached for his armor. “We are all equally accountable in this, and if they’re blameless so are you, and so am I. All that’s left is to try to fix it.” 

 

“Right,” Twilight murmured half-heartedly, and if it didn’t help then he at least tucked the guilt away for now, face setting grim determination as he turned to the task at hand, deftly ripping from Time any chance to further help him at all. “We can’t go back the way we came, though- not with the guardians in Hyrule field again. 

 

“Sprinn!” Time called a tad too sharply as he handed off the map to Twilight. “We’re going to need your help one last time, and if you lead us astray I will personally come back and gut you.”

 

It didn’t take long to set a course after that. Time had considered Wild’s array of registered horses for the best options, Twilight stiffening when Sprinn explained that the registry was shared amongst blood families automatically, face folding in grief and yearning as he rested a gentle hand on Wild’s shoulder. The eldest hero had chosen this world’s Epona at Twilight’s behest -not that he’d needed it to know she was best for anything they’d do- and reluctantly swapped Dipper out as well. 

 

Sprinn had been happy to help, proving himself handy indeed for his knowledge of Wild’s horses and their individual strengths. “For this, I’d suggest Kibeth. She’s not fast, but she’ll carry two riders easily and over this distance shey’d beat out the endurance of any others with that burden. And she’s a tank; if you meet any monsters on the road, she’s the best for turning away blows or running things over,” Sprinn said, pointing to an entry with a horse that looked very familiar in all the worst ways. 

 

Flame pointed, black coated horses were a very distinctive coloration, after all, and those bright green eyes were far from natural. “A warhorse, then?” He asked, somewhat wary as he looked at the dead ringer for Ganon’s favored mount. “Is that best for an ill passenger?”

 

“Oh, she’s the gentlest thing as long as you don’t have monster blood in you. Terrifying, but she wouldn’t hurt Link.” Well, no, she wouldn’t though, not when she’s registered to him, and Time trusted what he’s felt of Malanya and the bonds she creates, and so Kibeth and Epona were elected the two mounts in the mission to Kakariko. The stablehand prepped them while he and Twilight wrapped Wild in a blanket to keep out the chill, the limp heaviness of the Champion as they moved him about unnerving, unresponsive as he was to their handling. While the Rancher was fretting over him, Time went out to make sure the horses were ready to go, stopping dead in his tracks. 

 

Sprinn had said the Gerudo mare was large. But that still didn’t quite manage to prepare Time for the towering horse before him, looming over Epona like the legendary mare was naught but a foal. She was far more fearsome than even the horse he’d seen Ganon ride as a child, thickly built with a warhammer head, feathered feet planted firmly before a trail of massive hoofprints. Her coat wasn’t quite black, but an ashen gray, faintly dappled, sharply contrasting with the flaming chestnut of her mane and tail and the bright colors of her Gerudo tack. 

 

Time moved to her side, resting a hand on the shoulder that sat eye level with him as he approached her head. Kibeth turned to investigate him, Zumi  letting go of her bridle and leaving Time to be headbutted by a curious giant of a horse, instinctively scratching under her jaw as she whuffed over his armor. Moving slowly, he fondled her ears, relieved that Sprinn hadn’t been overstating her easy temperament. 

 

For all that her size was fearsome, the stablemaster was right that it was only an advantage- Time had his plate armor, and though he wasn’t nearly the burden he should be, Wild was still a second rider, and that combined weight wasn’t insignificant. Kibeth would carry it easily, and between her size and power and Epona’s handiness in a fight, any monsters they came across were as little a threat as they could be in this situation. 

 

“ Holy mother - that’s not a horse!” Twilight exclaimed behind him, clutching Wild closely to his chest as he goggled at Kibeth where she stood dwarfing Time, nudging at his hip with a head the size of his torso. 

 

“Twilight, meet Kibeth, the gentle giant.” Sprinn’s voice was gently teasing, though the small smile faded as he took in Wild’s still, rasping form. “I know you’ll do your best, but just- keep him safe, alright?” 

 

Time grasped his forearm, dipping his chin in acknowledgement. “We’ll do everything we can to see him through this, you have my word.” Then he turned to the giant mare, pausing for a moment before deciding no, his leg was not going to reach up over his hip to get to the stirrup, instead grasping the saddle and hauling himself up on sheer upper body strength. He may not have been spending as much time with horses as he usually did, but the muscles to haul his Biggoron sword around served him just fine, even if he knew already that his thighs were going to be sore from the absolute girth of the mare below him. 

 

Twilight stared up at him, eyes tracing the distance between them before offering Wild aloft, bearing his weight solely with his arms as he lifted him for Time to take, carefully cradling an arm under the Champion’s lolling head as they smoothly settled him in front of Time, draped side saddle for now. He barely stirred at all, skin damp with cold sweat as he strained for breath, each shallow gasp holding a foreboding edge of exertion. A tentative hand on his thigh drew Time from his worried fluttering to find Twilight offering up his pelt. 

 

“He’s still cold,” he said softly, and Time nodded, murmuring a quiet “Of course,” as he tucked the fur around Wild’s shivering form, skin too cool still despite their best efforts. Finally settled, Twilight moved next to them on Epona, leading the trio with a brisk trot onto the road Time had entered on. They quickly rose into a gallop, Wild’s eyes drifting open at the steady rocking, ragged breathes hitching as he twitched slightly. 

 

“Wild? Link?” Time tried, but the Champion only stared blankly into the sky, gaze half-lidded and distant, the sluggish haze through the bond confirming that he wasn’t aware at all. In another minute he was out again, shivering weakly and far too small in his arms. He slipped in and out as they rode, passing unharried through the fields. The moments he was awake Wild seemed in pain, every exhale cut by a soft, hurting trace of sound. Another stop to try to get more water into him failed miserably, the Champion too unresponsive to do anything but choke on it. 

 

There was no way of knowing how much time he had left, only that it was fast running out. 

 

They rode as hard as they could, alternating harsh sprints with easier cantering in an attempt to cross the miles quickly. Kibeth was not a fast horse, but the heavy pounding of her hooves did not waver from their steady beat, her stride eating up the earth all the same. By the time they approached the gully, both horses were lathered in sweat but still going strong. 

 

The same couldn’t be said of the hylians. Twilight’s nerves had only been building, his position at point falling more to riding only slightly ahead Kibeth’s shoulder, where he could easily glance back at the pair as his head twisted around on a constant swivel, shoulders tense and ears pricked to straining. Time was little better, magic pulsing out regularly to check for any hidden foes who may hinder their travel or threaten their dying companion, murmuring a steady stream of assurances under his breath. 

 

Everything from promises of the others and the mischief that awaited to all the hidden thrills of traveling other worlds to the small wonders he’d seen on his own travels, all the innocent, charming ones. He told Wild of Malon, and how she’d love him just the way she’d loved them all, and of his own Epona, and a hundred other little nothings as the younger hero twitched and gasped and died slowly cradled against his chest. 

 

Wild was fading, the small reprieves of awareness growing farther apart, little more than soft hums and fingers curling reflexively around his, that darting, brilliant mind reduced to windless fog, a murk of lingering, stifling confusion and fear that he couldn’t pierce through, not in all his desperation for Wild to know he wasn’t alone, that someone was trying to save him. 

 

Trying and failing . 

 

They were coming up on the intersection within the gully where the road split between castleward and looping the field when Wild’s whole body twitched, blind blue eyes tilting to the sliver of sky above. A breath and then it happened again, leaving just enough of a pause for realization to spark and Time’s heart to jump into his throat before another seizure gripped the Champion, too quickly for him to get them safely to the ground. The older hero drew the giant mare to a halt with a sharp curse, hushing her as she tossed her head at Wild’s thrashing. 

 

“Shit, not another one!” Twilight echoed, voice sharp and panicked before  he and Epona were right there, crowding in close as Wild’s body bucked and shook, restrained by the blankets around him and Time’s grip but far too precarious at that height. He was convulsing too powerfully to risk dismounting with him now, leaving them nothing to do but keep him from falling until it was over. All eyes were pinned on him as he seized, the seconds stretching far too long as the fit continued. Gradually, the twitching slowed and lessened, until finally Wild was still once more, the silence heavy and complete for a second too long, Time jolting to get him to the ground and breathe for him, gods no , before a thin breath was finally drawn with a hollow wheeze, his respiration reduced to halting shallow gasps. His pulse was no better when Time pressed his fingers to his throat, fluttering and uneven, too fast at first, then too slow. 

 

He shared an urgent look with Twilight  before urging Kibeth into a gallop once more, clutching Wild desperately closer, murmuring for him to be strong, to hold on, to keep fighting. “His heart’s giving out,” he said over the drumming beat of hooves, eye fixed on the meandering swing of the road before them as Wild’s breath hitched dangerously once more. “It’s not- everything ’s giving out.” 

 

He felt Twilight’s fear, his denial, ringing like a bell through the bond even as his voice held only a trace of that panic. “How long?” Do we have, does he have?

 

Time’s brow drew low, expression shaded with agony. “Not long.”

 

Not hours. 

 

“But long enough,” Twilight said, begged . 

 

Time didn’t answer, didn’t know, could bear neither to tell the truth nor to lie. They weren’t even halfway to Kakariko yet, only now climbing the last steep stretch of the gorge, the night sky opening above them, star speckled and glittering, too many-colored and dappled with light to be called dark. Wild’s eyes were open again but distant as a corpse’s, glazedly fixed on a middle point as his lips silently moved, each spasmodic twitch that stole over his body stopping Time’s heart in expectation of another seizure. It didn’t happen though, not even when Wild tensed up, head pressing back as he arched in pain with a guttural groan, writhing slowly in Time’s arms before going limp, sweat glistening on his brow as his face remained pained. 

 

Blue eyes flickered open again, otherworldly against the sickly alabaster of his skin as they rolled blindly around, his head rolling weakly back and forth. Then there was another rolling shudder, fragile bones trembling under Time’s hands before Wild weakly tried to move, gagging, the older hylian only barely managing to flip him over Kibeth’s shoulder with a supporting arm under his chest before he was sick, heaving out a thick trail of blood as the horses drew to a stop. He drooped dangerously, forcing Time to grasp his head with his other hand so it didn’t drop to his chest as he shuddered, suddenly twisting free of the blankets to claw weakly at his throat before they fell to brace against Kibeth’s neck as he retched again, another wave of dark crimson falling away into the night as Time tried desperately to help, hoping for it to stop as he pinned Wild’s arms to his chest. 

 

Not that the Champion noticed, all but insensate as he choked, coughing a spatter of blood and drawing a wet, gurgling breath, and Time- 

 

He was sure that this was it, that this was the end. That Wild was dying here, bloodied and frightened, Twilight’s pale, desperate face as horror-stricken as his own. With a terrible, strained shudder another horrific wash of blood left Wild gasping, crying, choking -

 

A breathy sound that may have been a scream escaped the taut, suffering hero, a jagged cough ripping from his mouth in a spray of blood before he jolted, breath rattling, and went wholly limp once more. 

 

Time waited for it, waited for the moment Wild’s soul would rip free of theirs, knew now what the start of it felt like, horror building between him and Twilight-

 

Not yet, though. 

 

Wild was weak, was dying , but not. Yet. 

 

Not yet, and that meant there was still time. 

 

He kept breathing, his soul thin and wisping but anchored still, no matter how tenuously. Twilight reached out a hand, leaning across Time’s thigh to touch Wild gently, as if afraid he would fade away as a ghost at the slightest disturbance. “We need to hurry,” he said, voice wrecked, and Twilight nodded but didn’t pull away, eyes shell-shocked and lost. “Twilight,” he said more firmly, and finally his protege looked at him, coming back a little as Time looped a hand around the back of his neck, squeezing reassuringly until Twilight finally focused on him. “He’s still alive.”

 

“There’s still a chance, we can still make it,” the younger hero whispered, shifting until they broke apart, his mind still eerily subdued, emotions faded, as they swept once more along the road, leaving behind a blood soaked patch of earth.  

 

---------------------------------------------

 

It was nothing but sheer luck that they’d made it so far without needing to stop for the monsters they’d encountered, but Time couldn’t stop the desperate rage as he and Twilight stopped at the top of the hill and looked down at the group of enemies neatly blocking the only bridge forward, with a few more hiding amongst the field dotted with multitudes of grassy knolls mounted by strange, donut ring rock formations. They were far enough away to be unnoticed for now, and there was an intersection not far behind them that would take them around, but despite that there were no choices here, none at all, not really. Not when there was no time to go around, nor to fight, and Twilight was of the same mind, shield out and sword waiting as they antsily scoped out the enemies before them. 

 

“Darknut- one of mine, and so are some of the bulbins,” the Rancher said, face locking down harshly as he took in the tall armored form on the bridge, the dark metal of its vicious claymore barely catching the moonlight. “The rest are still Wild’s, moblins and bokoblins.”

 

“Only one archer,” Time pointed out. “If you can get rid of that, our problems halve. The only other one I’m worried about is the darknut; it’s right in the way, and smart enough that we can’t take the horses past it without taking a crippling blow.” 

 

Twilight quirked his mouth consideringly. “We don’t need to take it out, though. Just get around it, is all. If I can draw its attention, I can clear space for you and Wild through, then follow after.” He narrowed his eyes at Time’s clear unhappiness with the idea of leaving him behind. “Don’t even, Old Man- I know you won’t go far without me, and I’ve plenty of experience on a bridge with my monsters. This’ll be quick, and then we’ll be on the road again,” he said firmly, eyes darting traitorously to Wild’s shivering form, sharpening with fresh worry at the delay. 

 

Every minute counted, and they were wasting them here, on these beasts . 

 

“Whistle if you realize you’re in over your head,” Time ordered, already aware it was in vain- Twilight would never call him back into the fight, not with Wild atop his horse. 

 

His protege didn’t even bother to agree as he swapped his sword for a bow, only urging Epona into a blazing gallop down the path, Kibeth on her heels, both mares exhausted but battle thirsty all the same. The archer was neatly pegged through the hole of one of the stones as it leaned out for a shot, Twilight quickly drawing sword and shield once more as they closed in on the group of bokoblins at the bridge, the darknut in the center, waiting already. 

 

The other monsters, the moblins and bulbins alike who had been farther away into the field, whirled at the sound of their hooves, lumbering in behind them to close off their escape and surround them as the darknut held them off at the pass. It was a good plan. 

 

The heroes wouldn’t be letting it work. 

 

Epona crashed over the first bokoblins, heedless of their screams, swinging in a tight sliding halt that crashed into the darknut’s shield, Twilight rising in the stirrups to sink his sword over the metal rim of it. But darknuts are undead, and a sword to the face meant nothing to them, forcing Epona to skitter away as the creature lashed its sword out, only barely missing the mare as she spun on her heels, head low and only just twisting away from the giant blade. 

 

By then, Kibeth had trampled the remaining bokoblins in the vicinity, stamping to a halt before liberally lashing out with a vicious kick as a moblin drew in range, those powerful legs snapping bone as the lanky monster was sent flying back. They’d overestimated the space available on the bridge and how easily the darknut could cover it, leaving Kibeth to rear up as Epona skittered back past her, the sword sweeping harmlessly by before she hammered her forelegs down on the darknut’s extended form, landing solidly upon its armored shoulder and driving it to its knees beneath her weight.

 

Time didn’t let her linger there, though, drawing her head up and urging her to back off before it could destabilize her footing and send her to the ground. Twilight was there to cover them, Epona bringing him close to rain a sweeping blow on the fallen darknut, shouting “Go! Go! Go!” at Time, because if there was ever an opening to get past it this was it. Kibeth heaved herself off of the slippery metal of the monster’s shield, staggering and dancing to keep her balance, and it took every ounce of self control for the older hero not to kick her sides the whole time in the desperate need to drive her to gallop. He clutched Wild tightly as the mare lurched beneath them, his head tucked securely to his chest as Time swept a bokoblin off its feet with his sword while Kibeth gathered her feet under her, head tossing as the monsters closed in around them, weapons bristling and the situation fast deteriorating into a choking mess of hostile bodies.

 

Their window of escape was fast closing, and in another few seconds neither horse would be able to push through the sheer mass of monsters. He only narrowly managed to catch another downward slice from the darknut, catching its blade and holding it as the stronger monster slowly brought it down, winning inch by inch over even Time’s single handed strength. Already the second moblin was upon them, black-furred and chuckling as it drew its weapon back, Time’s sword locked against the darknut’s and his other arm holding Wild from falling, the ill hero all but draped over the saddle at this point, utterly vulnerable as the blades slipped. Time prepared to shift and take the blow and the darknut’s sword alike-

 

Kibeth threw her head to the side, sweeping back a set of bokoblins as she lashed out, massive hoof driving into the darknuts knee where it loomed too close to her in its attack. The undead creature didn’t scream, but the leg crumpled all the same, and Time brought Kibeth up in a shallow rear to drive back the moblin, matching it for height and fury. 

 

He didn’t see the bokoblin, caught in his blindspot, on the side his arm was occupied holding Wild. Not until it would have been too late, not until he heard its victorious scream so close by, not until Twilight was already winging past on Epona, blade catching the moonlight as he neatly took its head off.  Epona spun on her heels, letting out a fierce equine scream that Kibeth answered, low and rumbling and pissed off , and the monsters drew back from the combined fury of the two mares, just a step’s worth of space, the darknut not yet risen thanks to it’s destroyed knee-

 

It was all the opening they needed.

 

Time reined Kibeth around, her hindquarters knocking a stray monster over the broken gap at the edge of the bridge, and the instant she spotted the open bridge ahead she was off, plunging forward with Epona hot on her tail. There were furious cries behind them, and Time glanced back to make sure Twilight was alright, finding him thankfully whole and checking over his own shoulder at the pursuing herd of monsters fast falling behind. By the time they crested the next hill they were far enough in the clear to slow the mares down to a less gruelling pace, the hours of hard travel showing all too clearly in the horses’ lathered sides and heaving breaths, heads held a little less proudly high than the start. 

 

Their huffing was echoed by Wild’s own stuttering gasps, dead to the world as he seemed to struggle even for those thin snatches of air, a fresh trail of blood snaking from his nose, brutal crimson against alabaster skin. Time kept Wild’s wrist clasped between his fingers, fragile bones pressing against his grip as he tracked every faltering beat of the younger hero’s heart, his own pounding as if it could lend strength to the other’s if it only tried hard enough. He was panicking with every limping gap in Wild’s pulse, every hitch in his uneven gasps. 

 

Worse though, was the growing agony he seemed to be in, twisting his face into a weak grimace despite how deeply unconscious he was, the Champion tormented by his condition even now. The minutes wore on, and Wild worsened, coming just close enough to waking to shift and shudder, body taut with pain. His brow was creased, mouth twisted around each sobbing breath, quiet, pained exclamations echoing every impact of Kibeth’s hooves on the ground, no matter how Time tried to soften the blows or smooth the ride. 

 

Shaking and clammy, Wild’s broken groan fell into a weak, bloodied heave, his heartbeat so faint in the aftermath Time thought for a second that it was nothing but his imagination. Another agonized keen trailed from the dying hylian in his arms, and Time… 

 

Stopped. Drew Kibeth to a walk, blankly noting some kind of fountain just ahead. Twilight looped around a second later, Epona’s nostrils flaring wide as she caught her breath, coat darkened with sweat. Kibeth’s sides were heaving too, steam trailing off her shoulders in the cool night, muscles flicking as she plodded along tiredly, though her ears remained pricked. 

Twilight nearly grabbed his arm before stopping before he could jostle Wild, trembling with adrenaline as he took in the Champion’s condition with white-rimmed, desperate eyes. “Time, what are you doing?” He demanded, voice teary and distraught. 

 

Wild’s spirit lost another filament fine anchor to the complex braid of the Chain’s woven souls, then another, and another- cotton candy dissolving in water. He was quiet now, though, still hurting but no longer sobbing in agony.

 

Time looked at his protege, expression gentle and mournful, the control there belied by the wild grief in his eye, mirrored in Twilight’s expression. “Twilight.” 

 

But the younger hero shook his head viciously, jolting forwards in the saddle. “No, no! We have to try! So long as he’s alive, there’s a chance! We don’t know how long-”

 

A gasp, a stifled sob. “-how long he has, we could still-!”

 

“I’m sorry, Pup,” he said softly, because it may have been slow and gradual, but there was no denying the slow withdrawal of Wild’s soul, the first minute breaks that marked the beginning of the end, growing cracks before a collapse. They weren’t halfway to Kakariko yet, and they were out of time. 

 

They weren’t going to make it. 

 

The group came upon the pavilion, a pair of weathered, serene fountains marking something unknown and long lost here in the wilderness. It was a good place, lovely and calm, and Time stopped Kibeth here, resolute. The finality of it drew a low cry of dismay from Twilight, choking into a sob as he saw how Wild was twitching in agony he was too weak to express but in soft gasps of sound, every movement drawing fresh tears down his cheeks, catching silver in the soft moonlight. 

 

“We’re not going to make it,” Time forced himself to say. “It’s kinder to stop, Pup. He’s suffering, and if we can make what time he has left less painful, we owe him whatever respite from pain we can give him.” Giving up even the faintest hope scalded every crack of his shattering soul, but the pain Wild was in, the thought of him dying in agony at their stubborn hands for something futile- 

 

He couldn’t do it. Wild deserved an easy passing, even if all they could do was ease the last few minutes of his life. 

 

Twilight shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. “No,” he breathed softly, “ no .” 

 

Their soulbond screamed in pain, loss and grief pouring salt in the growing wound Wild was leaving as he died, his soul tearing away from theirs, agonizing and inevitable. Twilight gave a low, gut-wrenching scream of denial, Kibeth tossing her head at the pained cry, and Time faced it all with the same soft, grieved support, even as the Rancher begged him not to give up. 

 

“No, please Time, we could still make it! We don’t know that it’s too late! You can’t say that, you can’t know until he-” a choked cry as another well of agony coursed across the soulbonds, Wild slipping that much farther away, a knife driven ever closer to their heart. “-until he…” 

 

“He’s not going to make it out this time,” and the soft-spoken acid-laced words were as much meant for Time as they were Twilight, a harsh truth falling into place with all the finality of an arrow through an eye. The older hero’s voice was brutally kind and and carefully bled of any emotion but gentle sadness, his own grief held quiet within him, paralyzing and self-contained, a broken spine to Twilight’s furious storm of loss spilling out into the world.

 

Twilight lurched off of Epona, staggering to Kibeth’s side, reaching up in silent supplication. Time shifted Wild as gently as he could and still the dying hero shuddered in pain, choking on his agony as he was lowered into Twilight’s waiting arms, pale and small as the Rancher carried him up the stairs to the terrace overlooking Wild’s kingdom, the castle standing worn and regal in the middle of the reclaimed wilderness. There he knelt, Wild across his lap, curling over the younger hylian desperately, pressing a kiss to his forehead and holding it there, tears washing over his cheeks as he clung tightly to their soulmate.

 

“It’s okay, you’ll be alright,” he choked out, shaking hard as he tried to strangle down the sobs and failed, letting out a keen of agony as he felt Wild flinch with jolt, unable to hold in his grief and unable to let go, not when their soulmate was being ripped from them, not when this is all he had-

 

Time gently grasped Twilight’s hands, loosening them from around Wild. “Pup, you’re hurting him,” and his protege keened at that but finally drew his arms back, quivering as if it physically pained him to let go. “It’s alright, let me take him,” he soothed in a coarse voice, throat tight around the ball of emotions lodged there. 

 

He didn’t draw away from Twilight, remaining near as he cradled Wild on his lap, painfully motionless, the world narrowing down to every wheezing gasp and weakening heartbeat, the line between the Chain and Wild drawing thinner, doomed to snap. Twilight was clutching Wild’s hand, curled into Time’s side as he shook, murmuring helplessly to the fading hero, promising an end to the pain, that it would be alright. 

 

Wild showed no sign of hearing him, though, filmy gaze fixed on the night sky above as he choked, blood welling up from his lips before he gave a strained, weak cough. His next breath was slow and wet and Time knew it wouldn’t help, knew it was only prolonging the inevitable, but he couldn’t stop himself from turning the Champion so it he wouldn’t choke on it, drawing a weak hiss of pain, blood dripping in a slow rhythm to hit the ground. He gave another reflexive twitch, his inhale agony to listen to as it rattled in his lungs and shook through his body, heart slowing, and slowing, and slowing-

 

That flickering, fading mind pressed against his, subconsciously aware of his presence, drawing strength and comfort from it still. Holding on. 

 

He closed his eye, shaking with repressed sobs, the need to scream out his pain hot in his lungs and throat. But Time forced himself to be soft, to be kind, his voice heart-breakingly gentle. “It’s alright, Link, you can let go,” he said quietly over the screaming of his own mind, the desperate, unhinged drive to save him, keep him, do whatever it takes, but- this was the only kindness he could offer, whatever forgiveness or permission Wild needed to stop fighting and meet his peace.

 

“You can go.”

 

A bloodied exhale, and then stillness, and every ounce of his being sobbed out for him to lay Wild down, to breathe for him, to hunt down a fairy to fight a God anything , everything as the connection to that free, easy-laughing spirit pulled taut in blazing agony, the nexus between the Chain a storm of incoherent pain and fear and grief-

 

As if to mock him, everything from his acceptance to his loss of faith and every single moment of helplessness in this world, it was then and only then -Wild, all but dead, him and Twilight shattered, and Time, having to live knowing he’d given up in the end- that a portal appeared.  

 

A moment passed by, Twilight’s too quick gasps and his own shaking breaths - Wild’s where was Wild’s no, no nonononono - breaking the night, just long enough for it to sink in: this was it, the singular last miracle they had, Wild not yet lost to the void, not yet gone from them. If a Great fairy waited on the other side then maybe -

 

He lunged through it without any other consideration past that distant, dim chance, Twilight close as a shadow behind him, and collapsed on  the other side to the bright presence of the Chain, whole once more, the bonds scintillating between their minds. 

 

A flurry of action, shouting, Hyrule skidding next to him with wild eyes, illuminated in pink, gasps and exclamations as the proximity brought with it terrible knowledge of Wild’s fate, still hanging in the balance-

 

And just like that, it tipped. Something snapped at the very core of Time’s being where he’d not realized injury could be taken, and Wild was g o n e

 

Screams, the pain they expressed too all-consuming to know if they were audible or mental as the nexus between their souls warped at the loss, sending all of them reeling, the stable eight that they were just three days ago suddenly unfathomably horrific, a shape they no longer fit into without razored edges biting into their minds, grief and loss given vicious form. 

 

He was gone , came the broken cry, and Time didn’t know who was shrieking it, or if they all were, because Wild was dead and they couldn’t do this, not without him there. Couldn’t go on, couldn’t save anything couldn't even save him-

 

Time cradled the corpse close and fell apart to the sound of destiny shattering around the broken Chain. 

 

Notes:

Oh, you thought soulbonds wouldn’t have horrible ramifications if broken? Yeah, no, these guys are TIED together, and every addition is immediately and irrechangably an intrinsic Link in the closed loop of the Chain. Take one out and the whole thing fails. They’d survive, but- it’d be awhile before they were okay, and if they were separated back to their own worlds it would be… bad. So I guess, under the assumption they’ll all split ways again even if they did manage to scrounge up a victory after this, things wouldn’t be okay at ALL.

Good thing we all know it pans out, right? Now, for the light-hearted post chapter notes that would have been too jarring following that whole mess:

 

Gorge Bokoblins thinking they’re so smart: halt!
Time: ahhh, if only I had time or fucks to give but alas, all I have is this bomb

Time and Twilight only narrowly avoiding death at the bridge: a win is a win
Wild, dying anyways: lol not if I have anything to say about it

What Sprinn said: Where did you get your horse?
What he meant: Who the fuck did you kill to get that horse?

Sprinn just having a total meltdown twice over thinking the Yiga are gonna off him. Poor guy thought for sure that Time was coming to finished the job for lying to the first one (hi Twi) and was even more concerned that he’d stolen the horse to blend in better- tainted as they are by malice, the Yiga would be given away by Malanya if they tried to register there, and it doesn’t make much sense to have one anyways if you can teleport everywhere. The stables are protected by Malanya, hence why they survived the Calamity when not much else did, but being human does allow the Yiga to approach on foot, still. Once they tap their magic they’re done, and they can’t draw their weapons out of hiding without it, but still. A blood moon out of nowhere and weirdly strong monsters lately has Sprinn all kinds of worried about out of the norm things.

I like to imagine that Time can send out a magical sonar search for fairy magic, so he knew full well at the stable there were none nearby to call to him with the great fairy mask. He can’t sense the others across enormous distances anymore than the rest of the Chain outside their sensory range, but he can tell if they’re present or not, which is why he felt Wild come so close to dying though they were so far apart. All the others would be totally unaware at that distance until Wild died for real, which is exactly how this chapter ends.

Wild throwing up blood is indeed from potion overdose, but Time doesn’t know that. That’s a symptom of super severe overdosing, and that degree of progression is all but undocumented, and far beyond Time’s range of knowledge anyways; practically all he knows is based off of personal experience, and he was never so desperate to reach that point. He recognized the malnourishment and food intolerance since they’re well known signs of overusing potions, but misattributed the blood to internal injury, because he had no way of knowing otherwise. Hence him choosing to give Wild a potion in spite of everything, unknowingly making it worse whilst trying to save him.

Also drawing a thin, changeable line between dying and true death, because fairies or another hero can revive a stopped heart but at a certain point there’s nothing that’ll bring them back, and THAT’s when Wild soul snaps totally free and the others know there’s no hope. Of course, that’s what Mipha’s magic recognizes as the intervention point, that True Death, which is why she always goes only after fairies have failed whenever Wild died on his quest. Not knowing this and feeling only Wild’s departure from their soulbond, the Chain of course was sure he was dead for good.

Chapter 16: Marco Polo But Polo's on Mute

Summary:

The Kakariko gang finally leaves home base. We know they don’t make it in time, but it’s still fun to watch the progression bar.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Drowning, Blood and Violence

Time at Chapter start: Around 1 PM
Chapter Spans: 10.5 hours
Follow the Lights Equivalent: None- it’s all ~fresh~

----------------------------

Sky POV

------------------------------

 

They tried to keep Wild there. 

 

Warriors was speaking fiercely, voice low and commanding as he ordered Wild to stop, telling him that he couldn’t leave, he would do more harm than good to whomever he was leaving to help. Sky approached it with far less finesse, shouting threats as he hugged Wild’s waist, face twisted in desperation as that fucking slate chimed and went to work. He felt the way the smaller hero shuddered, brittle and breaking as dangerous light bloomed around them.

 

Wild was silent and uncomprehending to their pleas, his eyes glazedly staring through Warriors as the Captain got right up in his face, trying to force his words through the Champion’s delirium. But he was met with nothing but a brow vaguely furrowed in determination, a single tear running down Wild’s sunken cheek as he closed his eyes and dissolved steadily into spiraling rods of energy, that wasted, weakened form falling away under Sky’s desperate hands. 

 

“No! Wild, don’t-!” Sky shouted, but no amount of fury could undo the slate’s magic now that it had been initiated. 

 

The skeletal frame - silent and dazed and far too weak to weather the strain of the slate’s transport oh Hylia please, no - vanished from his arms, disintegrating into a familiar whirl of light, and just like that Wild was gone, leaving them with another hero saved and more fear than ever for the Champion’s wellbeing. He’d been unresponsive, seeming only half-aware of Sky at all, blinking heavily up at him as he wavered on the edge of unconsciousness, his already lean form whittled to something frighteningly thin and fragile, the healthy tan Sky had first seen brutally undercut to something ashen. Those vivid, piercing eyes were sunken and dimmed, sapped of energy and cleverness, leaving him to cradle the shell Wild had burned himself down to for their sake. 

 

He’d given too much, and now he was off to throw everything he had left into his self-proclaimed assignment, and Sky had told himself it was alright, that they could fix this, that Wild would be okay, but-

 

He was bereft, now, and the promise meant to let him hold tight to his sanity and composure felt as empty as his arms, as the place in his mind where Wild’s bond had faded away with distance.  

 

Sky was barely aware of Warriors cursing roundly as he instinctively jolted forward trying to chase the scattering cloud of luminescence. His hands faltered against the Captain as he desperately flailed after the lights for a moment, staring into the sky where they’d flown off and vanished before curling forward into Wars’ chest and screaming , the sound furious and fearful. 

 

He’d had him . Wild had been in his arms, safe if not well, and Hyrule was nearby, a Great Fairy was right there, everything that would fix the terrible lost confusion that had haunted Wild’s mind, whatever had stolen health and strength from his body, leaving naught but a small, diminished wraith of the hero he’d come to know. 

 

Come to love, to cherish, alongside and equal to the rest of the Chain and he was gone now . Gone without care or help, and Sky left behind once again, to helplessly wait and hope. Too many times he’d seen Wild return, weaker and more worn with each hero reclaimed, brushing off their attempts to heal and assist with increasing desperation, something manic and wild growing in his eyes. 

 

He’d been so adamant not to let him leave after he’d come back with Warriors, jittery and on the wrong side of too many lighting bolts. But the moon, and the danger, and Wild- righteous and confident even then, demanding to be left to do what he knew he could- all of it clashed together in a mess of ugly necessities that he couldn’t deny Wild acted as the only solution to. Sky hadn’t doubted him then, and in spite of everything, in spite of the fresh memory of deadweight -so light, though, in horrifying contrast to the mountaintop just two days ago- in his arms, he scarcely doubted him now. 

 

Only feared that he’d not survive his success. 

 

Sky’s hands remained held before him, flexing on empty air as he trembled helplessly, caught somewhere between incandescent rage and paralyzing fear, staring through tears into the trees as Warriors wrapped his arms around him with a ferocity that said he felt the same unholy combination of emotions. Wild had abandoned them again, had fled from a group of heroes ill and hurt and oh gods, Sky was furious . 

 

He could feel his blood racing as his heart rate jumped to full speed, squeezing his eyes shut in against the burning anger at being forced into helplessness again, frustration writhing within him before it broke all at once into despair. A sob ripped from his throat, and he crumbled, arms coming up to hug Warriors back, letting himself get lost in the whirl of emotions just for now, just enough that he could move on afterwards, just enough to loosen the pressure gripping his lungs so he could breathe again. Wars squeezed him tighter with a quiet murmur, both their ears flicking at the distant-but-fast-approaching hubbub that heralded Wind, Red and Hyrule’s approach from the nearby fairy fountain.

 

Then Warriors froze, and Sky heard his muttered, “Wait,” before the Captain’s head jolted up from Sky’s hair and he gasped, hissing out a sharp, “Oh fuck, Legend !” before lunging to the side, dragging Sky along as the younger knight twitched and twisted to follow, heart leaping as he realized just how odd silence was when it came to the Vet, who should have been as pissed as he was at Wild’s ill-conceived departure. 

 

But there was no answering fury, no sharp-edge words and lashing frustration like when Legend had first woken up here in the forest and cursed them out for letting Wild leave and it had happened again, oh gods he should be furious -

 

Instead, he was collapsed facedown a mere few feet away, his body bonelessly sprawled on the forest floor like a puppet whose strings had been abruptly cut. There was no reaction as Warriors jostled his shoulder, head lolling loosely on the ground, eyelids not so much as flickering, his fair skin bleached near white, just as it had been when he and Wild first dropped onto the pedestal. A relapse of some kind, or the shock of Wild leaving overwhelming his already overstressed body?  It was hard to tell with Legend, who had skills and items aplenty that he shamelessly used to hide all sorts of ailments, using anything he had at his disposal to put out the image of someone untouchable and unaffected by the hardships he’d endured. He was just as mortal as the rest of them though, just as prone to exhaustion and trauma and fear, even if he was far, far better at hiding it than most of them cared to be amongst peers suffering the same. 

 

Some of them saw it as a chance to commiserate, a chance to unwind and cut loose amongst those who knew what it meant to be a hero, what costs it called due of them. Legend, though, seemed only to take it to mean he had to work that much harder to cover their asses, as if someone needed to keep up the facade of the hero who could handle it all easily or else something terrible would befall the Chain. They’d yet to crack him open and convince him it was alright to be vulnerable, the Vet as skittish as a squirrel the instant someone tried to address it anywhere near directly. 

 

Progress had been made by Hyrule, who had been the first one among them Legend  cautiously, discreetly reached out to when in need of comfort. He’d settled to sit down close enough to touch, their shoulders brushing before he’d reached slowly out to clasp their hands together, neither of them commenting on it even as Hyrule leaned ever so cautiously into his predecessor’s shoulder, none of the heroes around the fire saying anything about it or the dark shadow’s under Legend’s eyes, carefully tiptoeing around the scene for fear of breaking it. 

 

Slowly, he’d begun to do the same for the others, too. Curling close to those on watch when the nights were particularly rough on him, following at Time’s side like a duckling, neither of them filling the comfortable silence, settling to nap alongside Sky when rainy days left the corners of the pink-haired hero’s eyes tight with pain. He’d only just begun loosening up around them, letting himself relax and allowing them to help loosen the burdens of his journeys. 

 

Legend was strong, was enduring, but he shouldn’t need to be. He was good at pushing through, pushing on, and it made it so infuriatingly hard to take care of him, and-and-

 

Sky hadn’t even noticed anything was wrong at all, had seen Legend awake and walking and thought everything was fine, then, simply because the Vet was just that good at making it seem so. And he’d had Wild to worry about, been utterly distracted by his leaving, but now there was nothing he could do about Wild, but Legend, here and now-

 

Just like that, Sky flipped right from paralyzing devastation of helplessness to calm-headed analysis and mitigation, tucking away the untouchable issue of Wild in favor of the problem right at hand, the hero he could help. Wild’s absence wrenched at his heart, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on that, not with Legend clearly having worsened, somehow. 

 

(And goddess above, he didn’t even know from what- he’d taken custody of Wild, and Warriors Legend, but still- the realization that the Vet’s poorly condition had gone so unacknowledged throbbed guiltily. 

 

He had to be better- Hylia knows Legend would rather bleed out than ask for a potion. 

 

Legend could try to hide all he liked; Sky would be keeping a close eye on him.)

 

Legend felt smaller than his usual big personality as Sky helped Warriors turn him over, an anxious press of fingers against his throat finding his pulse fast and his breathing too shallow for his comfort. Sky was straightening his limbs out, twisting to wave over the group of heroes charging over the makeshift bridge their way. 

 

“Did you check him for injuries after he arrived?” He asked Warriors perfunctorily, wincing internally at how the Captain’s eyes flashed defensively, though he held his temper despite the perceived accusation.

 

“Of course I did,” Wars said evenly, straightening Legend out from the curled sprawl he’d landed into when he must have collapsed. “But there was nothing physical. He said his magic was low, though- do you think-?”

 

Sky shook his head helplessly, utterly ignorant of the intricacies of magic and its overuse, his face self incriminating as he smoothed back Legend’s hair. “Hyrule will know,” he said, to soothe Warriors’ worries as much as his own. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

 

Legend should be alright in his care, especially with Four’s Colors and the Sheikah providing backup down in Kakariko too in case it was a particularly tricky case. Hopefully it was just a matter of the Vet having pushed himself too far, but- 

 

Better to be safe than sorry, no matter how much Legend’ll bitch about it once he’s awake again. 

 

At least Wild had stayed awake when the pair had arrived back, sick though he was. They’d barely reformed, just enough time for Sky to recognize Legend’s bold colors and bare legs before the shorter hero had crumpled, unmoving. There was something utterly terrifying about seeing the Veteran collapse; he was one of the toughest of all of them, and stubborn to boot, and unlike Time -the other contender- he didn’t feel badly enough for the rest of them stressing over his injuries to submit gracefully like the Old Man did. 

 

He’d woken up easily enough, seemed alright to stand and walk and yell, sharper edged than usual with true concern, his bearing and cutting words reading of immense stress. And yes , keeping Wild alive did have that effect on the Chain so far, and a glance down at the barely conscious Champion in his arms had only proved that for all they’d made it here alive plenty had gone wrong. And it had to have been bad to leave Legend so weakened and furious; he’d been disconcertingly wobbly, enough that Warriors couldn’t help hovering close by, worried about the pale clamminess of his skin but unwilling to risk him worsening by invoking his ire again and pointing it out. 

 

But fine enough by his own admission and look where it had left them, Legend pale and still and goddess be damned why would they ever trust Legend to be honest about that -

 

Hyrule plowed into Warrior’s side, using him as a backboard to ricochet to a stop by Legend’s body, one hand snapping out to grab the Captain’s arm and stop him falling over from the force of the impact even as those bright, rose-edged eyes scanned feverishly over the Vet’s body. Red settled at Sky’s edge for barely a moment before he stood up and pulled him out of their way, deftly catching Wind as he arrived and keeping him back as well, voice low and soothing as blonde heads whirled desperately about, searching for Wild. 

 

Hyrule’s voice rang out, clear and fluting, drawing Warriors to fill him in on Legend’s condition “What happened?”  Wind wiggled in his hold impatiently, but Red pressed tighter to his side, ears pinned tight to his head as they all turned to listen.

 

“He passed out when he and Wild arrived, no injuries on either of them. When Legend woke up he mentioned being low on magic but didn’t seem concerned. He was up and walking when Wild managed to transport away again, responsive and talking if a little stressed and weak.” 

 

Warriors voice was carefully neutral, wiped clean of the guilt tracing the curve of his shoulders. “Me and Sky were distracted trying to keep Wild here, but after he was gone Legend was unconscious again; I didn’t see what happened to cause it.” He’d noticed before Sky had, though, so caught up with the Champion that Legend had been forgotten, gods , and what kind of teammate didn’t notice when one of his companions goes down like that?

 

Hyrule’s eyes darted up to meet Wars’, the Traveler tipping gently to the side to tap his shoulder against the taller hero’s, the taut line of his lips softening slightly as he turned that steady gaze over them all, stressed but not distressed . “Hey, he’s going to be fine, guys. Not great at the moment, but he’s not in any danger, not if we keep an eye on him.” He turned those ethereal eyes back down to Legend, his expression melting into something fond and faintly despairing. “Don’t feel too bad- there probably wasn’t anything for you to see anyways, Wars. It’s hard to say for sure, but I think he tried to keep Wild from going too, and used a little too much magic. A green potion’ll help that, and even if it’s not the whole issue it certainly won’t hurt, especially if he was low like he said.”

 

Warriors straightened his spine, heartened by Hyrule’s lack of panic, watching the other rest an easy hand over Legend’s breastbone. “Good, good,” he said, the words drenched with relief. 

 

“What about Wild?” Red piped up, leaning forward where Sky had him tucked into his side, a half restraining, half comforting arm slung heavily over the diminutive forms of the Color and Wind on either side of him. The Sailor was significantly more pissed about it than Red, who seemed perfectly content to stay there as he clung to Sky’s hand, leaning forward with bright eyes, his expression far more open than they usually saw on Four’s face. “Was he alright? The bond- he didn’t feel…”

 

Sky answered, voice low and unhappy but calm all the same. He wouldn’t lie to them- it would do no good, that kind of deception, for all that it might feel kinder in the face of their growing concern at his pause. “Not… really. Wild was sick when they got here, way worse than when he left before the blood moon. He wasn’t doing so well, we didn’t expect…” his thought trailed away, the protest dying upon his lips. They should have been more careful, should have taken the slate to make damned sure Wild couldn’t go anywhere, but he’d been so distracted by how sick he was, by Legend’s struggles-

 

 Sky blue eyes met Hyrule’s intense gaze, the healer’s attention split cleanly between news of their errant Champion and Legend still resting under his hands. His ears pinned back as he compiled a list of symptoms for the healer, tears welling warm in his eyes as he fought to blink them back, because gods, it wasn’t good.  “He was throwing up blood-” Again, damn it, and after he’d sworn to protect Wild , “-and barely awake; he’d lost too much weight, I don’t even know how when he’s been gone a day-”

 

Hyrule inhaled sharply, a small sound, shoulders drawing back as his expression flattened out in realization, eyes darting back and forth in intense, internal concentration. “That sounds like potion overdose- do we know how many he’d drunk in total? No wait, doesn’t matter; there’s nothing else that would cause drastic weight loss that quickly. We already know his elixirs are more potent than our potions- with added bonuses comes added cost.”

 

Warriors’ expression darkened, all too familiar with the issue firsthand. “And there’s not much choice when the need for a potion is there, even if you’re coming up on that line. Without any help or recourse, Wild wouldn’t have had any choice but to do what he had to to keep going and make it out, no matter the consequences.” An explanation, not absolution. 

 

Sky’s heard of it before, even experienced it before on his own adventure in pressing times, but- “I’ve never seen it get this bad, though. I’ve had my fair share of potion overdosing, but this? It can’t be that- can’t be just that . He was- bad, ‘Rule. Really bad. I don’t know if he was even aware of the choice he was making when he left- delirious as he was, I think he was fixated on saving the rest of us.”

 

“And you guys just let him leave?!” Red cried, face creased in dismay. Sky’s arm flinched from around him before he could stop it, and the Color shifted away, crimson eyes accusing and confused for a moment before his face crumpled in guilt, hands clenching in his scarlet tunic. 

 

Wind groaned before anyone else could make things worse, burying his face in his hands. “You can’t interrupt his transport once he starts it- all he’d have had to do is get a hand on it and they’d be helpless,” he explained bitterly, a dark scowl marring his young face as he crossed his arms protectively. 

 

“I didn’t realize until it was too late,” Sky admitted quietly, self admonition in the harsh edges of his words. Red murmured a soft argument that it wasn’t his fault, remorse visible as he leaned forward before stopping, uncertain if contact would be welcome after he’d snapped moments earlier, and though his heart ached at the pain on the younger hero’s face Sky couldn’t bring himself to draw Red near again. 

 

It had been his fault- he’d been carrying Wild, should have noticed him reaching for the slate. After all he’s heard and seen of the Champion, he can only be sorrowfully disbelieving of how he’d still managed to underestimate Wild. Everyone had a limit, but it seems they’d yet to see what could finally bring the Champion down, even for his own good. 

 

Sky had been so relieved that he’d been conscious, taking comfort in it even if he was dazed, but gods above, he wished nothing more now then that Wild had passed the fuck out. 

 

Warriors reached a hand to rest softly on Hyrule’s bicep, drawing his attention and nodding his jaw towards Legend. “Is he alright to move back to Kakariko in the meantime? We have to decide what to do next.” 

 

The whole conversation had taken a few minutes, and there was no sign of Wild yet, something they were all painfully aware of, the moment they were all waiting for with equal parts trepidation and fearful anticipation. In theory, all he’d have to do if they’d each stayed in place was arrive and leave once more; this whole mess could have been done in under fifteen minutes, if they weren’t a bunch of hard-headed, exploration prone fools. Sky couldn’t decide whether he hoped it would take less time, or if he wanted Wild to stay as far away from his magic-sucking slate as possible.  It had been long enough now since the Chain’s arrival though that there was no chance Twilight was still at his shrine, and they already knew Time had left his. 

 

(And that was an entire issue on its own; their eldest, lost member whose fate remained unknown, whom they could only trust to survive and make it back to them still.)

 

Combined with Wild’s condition, it meant there was no telling how long it would take for their wayward Champion to return, or whether it was even worth waiting for at all. Chances were good that the instant Twilight set eyes on Wild as he’d been there was no way he’d let him go off doing anything, and if they were lucky the Ranchhand would realize that using the slate took more of a toll than Wild could afford at the moment and successfully stop him where they’d all failed to. 

 

Having seen firsthand the failure rate so far, Sky wasn’t going to hold his breath on that one. 

 

Hyrule nodded to the Captain, already shifting out of his way and onto his feet, gesturing for the others to stand. “I’d suggest it,” he lilted, something authoritative in the musicality of his voice despite the passivity of his tone, not unlike a siren’s beckoning call. “There’s no telling how long he’ll be out, and I don’t want him here and prone if Wild comes back in…” Hyrule chewed on his lip for a long moment, eyes jumping to meet those of the heroes raptly watching him, hanging on every word. “Ah, poor condition.”

 

Sky released the two smaller heroes, dusting himself off as they sprang up, shrugging his shoulders so his sailcloth fell correctly once more. “I’ll stay here in case Wild makes it back soon. I’ve got everything I need.” 

 

“I can stay too,” Wind said firmly, crossing his arms and bracing his feet. Warriors frowned, glancing over the group before gazing thoughtfully into the forest a moment. Then he shook his head.

 

“No, I’ll stay, Sky. You take Legend down to Kakariko with Red and ‘Rule, we’ll keep watch for the Champion.” Sky tilted his head, eyeing the Captain for a moment before acquiescing. For all that Wind was too small to help if Twilight or Time couldn’t walk on their own, Wars couldn’t wait on his own, and Wind was plenty keen-eyed enough that even Wars wouldn’t be able to hide any lingering guilt over Wild’s departure or the current mess for long from one of their most emotionally-savvy members. 

 

Wind was amazing like that.

 

“We’ll let you know if anything important changes, or send someone to swap out in a few hours,” Sky said dutifully, carefully lifting Legend up under Hyrule’s watchful eye. A few half-hearted agreements, and the group was headed once more back through the woods, circling around the pond and its narrow plank of a bridge for safety’s sake. The heavy, unmoving weight in his arms was horribly disconcerting, the Vet far more still than he ever was when not dangerously exhausted of his magic.  

 

He’d grown so used to being afraid, so used to the yearning need to be at his wayward brothers’ sides, that he almost didn’t recognize the moment anxiety tipped into something more obsessive, more compulsive. 

 

Almost. 

 

Sky had brushed it off before, but this- the bone-rattling drive to move to go to save, you have to save them if not you then no one will you see fate to change it, Godslayer -

 

Something bad was waiting before them, and he could already feel it ripping at his throat like a scream caught in his chest, ripping into him as it tried to claw its way out. But Wild -because it was Wild who held tragedy in his stars, bright eyed brave Wild, throwing his life away for a set of strangers who shared his soul- wasn’t here, wasn’t anywhere he could reach, and so the urge wracked him, shivering across his muscles and shredding what little control he had over the slow-building storm within. 

 

He’d thought it was a panic attack- now he wasn’t so sure. But there was nothing to be done but to walk, for now, and so he carried Legend as Red and Hyrule paced alongside him, crimson and forest-shade eyes looking at him with nearly more worry than Legend garnered as they went. 

 

“You doing alright, Sky?” Hyrule asked hesitantly, the crease between his eyebrows only deepening at his distracted, “He’s not heavy, I’m fine.”

 

“I meant- you were there, when Wild left again. Right there, after seeing him sick and hurt. Just… are you okay?” Red asked, eyes tearing up. “It’s not your fault, I shouldn’t have said that, you would’ve stopped him if you could.”

 

But he didn’t, did he? And now he was left with the building awareness of exactly what he’d let slot into place, every second that passed leaving him with that less time to change it. 

 

(The growing fear that it was too late the instant Wild left across the world.)

 

It only took a few more tries before they gave up in the face of his silence, walking a hair too closely as they helplessly hovered. 

 

They were only just passing by the second Kakariko shrine and turning onto the downward zig-zagging path towards the village when Hyrule turned suddenly on his heel  and touched Sky’s shoulder in a silent command to stop, ears pricking eagerly as he stared at Legend, hands notably kept to himself. 

 

Having seen the results of being on the wrong end of a too-abruptly woken Veteran several times too many, Sky wished he could do the same. Except Legend didn’t wake with any of his usual speed or blind aggression, instead shifting in his arms with a pained exhale, pressing his face closer to Sky’s tunic before finally opening his eyes, half-lidded and weary, lips curled in a grumpy frown that was weaker than he’d like to see. 

 

Hyrule wasn’t bothered, though, beaming brightly as deep purple eyes turned his way, pausing only a moment before pressing forward to hug the Vet, his curly hair budging easily against Sky’s shoulders as he patiently bore both their weights, a fond smile making its way onto his face as Red, too bounced in for a hug that not so subtly encase the Skyloftian as well, standing shamelessly on his tip-toes to be of a height with the Vet. 

 

Legend bore the attention with enough grace that Sky thought maybe he’d missed them too, for all that he’d hate it to be pointed out. But finally a low grumble could be made out from the center of the huddle, and Hyrule and Red withdrew before they overstepped Legend’s limits too egregiously, though the Traveller lingered nearby, his hand migrating to rest gently on Sky’s side instead, the contact seeming to ground them both.

 

“Ugh, let me down Sky, I’d rather fall on my face walking myself than bear your mothering close range,” Ledge bitched up to his beaming face, raising a ringed hand to press against his chest but making no other move to flail from his grasp, and that, more than anything, spoke of how poorly he was feeling. 

 

And he thought Sky was going to let him down, despite knowing full well that Legend complaining was absolute zero indication of wellness.

 

Hyrule laughed, a bright shimmer of sound that carried no mirth. “ Don’t you dare, Sky ,” he said lightly, eyes a little too cold to hide the threat behind his easy tone. That empty-eyed cherubic expression turned to Legend then, the shorter hero pressing unconsciously back into Sky’s chest as he was cowed under that smiling intimidation, reaching a wary hand out to grasp the potion being thrust at him. “You’re not doing anything until you’ve drunk this green potion, you hear me? Passing out from magic exhaustion is no small thing, Legend.”

 

“Oh my- fuck ,” Legend said, jolting and fumbling the bottle as his tone changed abruptly, sounding uncharacteristically rattled in a way that immediately sparked suspicion in Sky as he suddenly found himself juggling a much wigglier hero than before. 

 

Red waved his hands, eyes wide as he quickly assured, “You’ll be okay, though- we’ve got time for you to rest-”

 

“We absolutely do not ,” Legend snarled, eyes blazing as he gave an rebellious thrash in Sky’s arms, who’d started the group moving once more at a brisk pace now that Legend looked less terrifyingly fragile in his arms. Just flat terrifying, now, which was a marked improvement if not a pain in their care-taking asses. “You think I’m magically exhausted? Wild’s way fucking worse and he just stranded himself somewhere on the brink of death!”

 

“Magic- I thought it was potion overdose!” Hyrule cried, reeling back as if struck. “He didn’t even know what magic was, what do you mean he’s on the brink of death, Legend?!”

 

Legend growled threateningly at Sky as he managed to keep a solid grip on the wriggling hero in his arms, but answered promptly. “Oh, he was definitely over the limit on potions too- he was having a hard time keeping anything down on the island, whether it was food or any of those elixirs of his. Damn that place , but it took everything we had just to get off of it, so we didn’t have any other choices to get him on his feet long enough for us to get out, not when I couldn’t leave him anywhere safe or carry him and fight the monsters off.” And oh, Legend sounded pissed, that same bristling anger of a cornered animal in full fight mode.

 

“As for magic ,” Legend spat, furious at something too far to face his rage, “that slate of his is an absolute sinkhole; I don’t know how often he’s used it, but I do know he’s not going to be doing it anymore. I fueled that last jump of his almost completely- there’s no way he’s enough magic left to do it on his own.”

“And Twilight wouldn’t be able to help, and Time would know better, with the condition he’s in,” Hyrule finished, face drawn in growing fear, trotting alongside Sky as he hurried on to the village below. 

 

“Why’d you help?” Red asked, eyes conflicted, once more riled, though handling it better than the first go, asking instead of accusing. “If it let him get away, if it left him alone and stranded-”

 

“He was going either way,” Legend said shortly, twisting to try to see the smaller hero pacing behind them. “I just ensured it wasn’t going to kill him to do so.” 

 

His eyes narrowed skeptically where he’d managed to tip his head around Sky’s arm, darting over Red’s crimson clad form. “You’re not Four,” he accused, voice sharp as he tensed in the skyborn’s arms, and it really shouldn’t have taken their overly-observational Vet that long to notice. 

 

“Four’s name is more apt than you realized, thanks to his sword” the Color answered with an uncertain smile. “We can split and recombine into Four; there’s three others, plus our shadow who is not a dark, no matter what you guys may think . I’ll fill you in, but only if you stop wiggling about and drink that potion so you’re able to help, alright?” His eyes were large and honest, the bright red catching gold at the edges in the sunlight as they turned into the sun. 

 

Legend’s suspicious gaze darted up to Sky, who nodded his approval of the admittedly odd situation with Four and the Colors, the shorter hero finally settling back to begrudgingly downing the potion as they arrived in the town proper, blazing right through to the inn, unbothered by the curious Sheikah watching them pass by, though a few did go scampering off into buildings at the sight of them. At Legend’s behest, a sheikah was sent off to relieve Warriors and Wind so the Chain could all reconvene at the village at once. Red chattered anxiously the whole time, spilling out an entire flood’s worth of back to back words explaining the Colors’ personalities and Shadow and oh yeah the sword too and wait he should start at the beginning you know Dot? Right, so, okay in order to understand he’ll have to explain-

 

It was a bit of a mess to follow, but all the better for distracting Legend until they reached the others, the Vet far too tense for there to be any good news waiting. Hyrule was keeping a sharp eye on the pink haired hero, seeming unhappy at the degree of improvement after the potion despite Legend’s attempts to brush him off and half-hearted flailing. None of them were fooled; if Legend was at all capable of walking on his own, he’d have already been out of Sky’s arms and leading the pack. 

 

He wasn’t, though. He was laying tensely in Sky’s arms, muscles trembling with tension and nerves, his gaze darting all around. He still had all the signs of a nasty headache; pale, a thin sheen of sweat at his temples, eyes drawn at the corners as he tilted his head to avoid direct sunlight. But he was awake and seething all the same, and Sky was going to take what little victories he could at this point.

 

Legend was toted all the way up to their rooms, Sky chirping a greeting forcibly scraped from the very recesses of his soul to the woman at the front desk as Legend hissed in his arms a renewed threat of ass kicking. Red had raced ahead, calling out as he dashed up the stairs and slammed his way into a room, shouts ringing out from the doorway in a mix of alarm, indignation, and joy as the door swung on its hinges. 

 

Legend’s face was a beautiful show of horrified trepidation at the foreboding clamor, leaning back in Sky’s arms as the knight inexorably drew him closer to the racket, the ingenious smile giving way to something softer and affectionate. 

 

“Don’t worry, Ledge. You’re going to get along great with Blue!” Hyrule beamed, shoving the pair into the room and closing the door swiftly behind them. Sky raised a skeptical eyebrow at the claim -it was a 50/50 chance whether that was true or whether the two would end up murdering each other- and strode to the bed not currently covered in a pile of wrestling Colors, setting Legend down and dancing out of range of a spite-fueled kick with a weak laugh. Hyrule swept in as soon as he moved back, one deceptively gentle hand gripping Legend’s shoulder and pinning him to the pillow. 

 

“Tell me your lingering symptoms, then. Let’s hear how bad it still is,” the Traveller prompted, gently ruffling Legend’s hair and humming at the sand that fell free. 

 

Blue’s head popped up, blue-gray eyes narrowing at Legend as Red wiggled in the headlock the navy clad hero was holding him in. “You need a bath,” was all he said, only for Green to slap a hand onto his hair and rough it up, forcing his head down. 

 

“If he was injured Hyrule would know it, Blue, no need to do a strip search. Though you’re not wrong- want us to draw up some water, Legend?” Green offered as he rolled gracefully free of the others, Blue’s retaliatory attempt to muss his hair passing harmlessly by as he flipped it out of the way, seemingly without thought or care for the growl following after him, Red flipping Blue in his distraction and pinning him under his leg in an arm lock. Vio heartlessly held Blue’s flailing legs down, standing guard between his tussling brothers and Shadow, still swathed in a blanket but sitting upright and smiling wickedly at the whole ordeal. 

 

Hyrule was nodding his head before Legend’s voice cut in, sharp and agitated. “No- there’s no time for that,” the Veteran said, forcing himself up despite how it made the color drain from his cheeks. “We’ve got to follow after Wild on foot, we need to find him!” 

 

Sky froze, the declaration matching the fluttering, furious need in his chest to do exactly that, nearly swaying as it tried to consume him before blinking out of it, back to treading the surface of the rising floodwaters. 

 

They- they needed information, needed everyone here, first. Just a little more time, because preparation wasn’t the enemy and he wouldn’t be late, he couldn’t be, not again-

 

He swallowed, the ensuing alarmed silence doing nothing to show how long it had been, rallying as he turned to Green, whose expression had smoothed out to something carefully neutral. Behind them, the sounds of play had cut off just as sharply.  “Have one of the Sheikah get some water and food,” he said, and there was nothing to do for the strangled edge to his voice. The smaller hero’s moss-tone eyes held his, worry pinching at the crease between his brows. He glanced at Legend, whose glare had darkened at being ignored, before dipping his chin in a nod and striding off. Once he was gone Sky turned back to Legend, calm settling over him easily as he stood by the bedside. 

 

Hyrule’s ears twitched, his eyes flicking to the northwest for a moment. “Warriors and Wind will be here in a few minutes,” he murmured. 

 

Legend’s face threatened to crumple, something strained in the corners of his mouth and tilt of his brows. “This is important - I can eat on the road, we need to get moving as soon as they’re here!” And under the anger there was desperation, the Vet on the brink of something wildly ill-considered just for the sake of escaping the helpless stagnation that had been haunting all the heroes in Kakariko. Sky felt it too, the sliding cascade towards any terrible idea that got them out of here, damn the danger and reasons not to because it was better than waiting . Seeing it in the other, though- he couldn’t let Legend linger in that place, couldn’t let him endanger himself for the sake of another, or else it would be Wild’s whole accursed venture all over again.  

 

“Legend.” he said before he’d even realized it, his voice just loud enough to cut through the rising volume of the Vet’s panic, soothing and implacable despite the bird-wing heartbeats drumming in his chest. “We need to get the information first, pack our gear, and decide where we’re going. Somewhere amongst all that you’re getting food and whatever rest you can garner from staying off your feet. Whilst we’re preparing, there’s plenty of room for that, at least, without affecting how long it takes to get on the road.” 

 

Legend’s shoulders flexed uneasily, purple eyes shadowed by exhaustion fixed on his clear blue, before Hyrule touched his fingers to Legend’s hand and the Veteran slumped in defeat, falling back onto the pillows and dropping an arm over his eyes, fist clenched. His other hand twisted under Hyrule’s touch and opened, the Traveler gladly slipping his fingers to thread through Legend’s, locking their hands tightly together as the sound of footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of the rest of the Chain. 

 

“He’s awake?” Wars called as there was a thump on the door suspiciously like someone didn’t open it fast enough not to smash a shoulder into it, before Wind toppled in with the older hero right on his heels. Warriors lent a hand to the stumbling Sailor, his face brightening as his eyes landed on Legend, arm lifted just enough to meet his eyes before it dropped back down. “Oh good!” He rejoiced with visible relief, smile gentling as he walked across the room, gaze roving easily over the heroes gathered there, checking for any accrued injuries in his absence. 

 

“Settle in,” Sky invited. “Legend’s got critical updates on Wild.” Wars frowned at him, resting a hand on Legend’s ankle, expression tightening unhappily as he took in the Vet’s subpar pallor and obvious headache. Hyrule shook his head shamefully when the Captain sent a questioning glance his way, and Warriors settled back, unsatisfied that they couldn’t help but opting not to linger on it. 

 

“Doing alright there, Ledge?” He asked instead,his voice low and rich, edged with gentle concern. Checking that he was able to give said update, ever trying to balance everyone’s wellbeings. Sky admired the effort, but since it was Legend it was almost entirely moot. 

 

“Wars,” Legend acknowledged with a sigh. “Don’t get too comfortable- we should be heading out as soon as we can.”

 

“For Wild?” Warriors checked, tone shifting to something darker, an uneasiness rising in the room. The Colors who’d stayed in the village didn’t look completely lost, but there was no way Red managed to give them anything but the bare bones of the events at the shrine. 

 

Then again, none of them had much more than that, did they? Wild arrived with Legend, both bad off, and they’d barely managed to start off for town before the Champion was gone again, neither him nor Legend in any shape to provide any context for their conditions until now. 

 

“ Absolutely for Wild,” Legend said grimly, shifting to sit up against the headboard, paying no attention to Hyrule’s hovering hands, one of which was still held in his, unconsciously drawn in to rest against his stomach. The Traveller needed no further sign to stay close; he seemed just as desperate to be near Legend as the Veteran desperately needed to keep him at his side. 

 

Legend lifted his chin, features stony and eyes bright with fear. “Wherever he is, Wild is one wrong move away from killing himself. He may not realize it -may not even be capable of that kind of self analysis anymore- but using that slate or any of his magic or fuck , even drinking another elixir could put him over the edge.” Those royal purple eyes turned to Hyrule, jaw tightening in dread.

 

“He’s in real danger of a total system collapse-he’s been burning himself out on both ends, magical and physical, on top of the worst case of potion overdosing I’ve ever seen. Right now he’s hanging onto stability by a thread; what he needs is bedrest and to stay away from any kind of stress or potions or magic consumption until he’s improved, not the exact fucking opposite of that, tripping around hemorrhaging magic into his slate and fainting into shrines.” He finished on a snarl, twisting to face the wall, bristling with frustration that had no outlet. 

 

“We can’t just go,” Wind said, doing a good job of keeping his voice steady, dark eyes wide with worry. “He’s always come back here- we’d be abandoning him, and besides-! Wild’s Hyrule is huge, there’s no way we’d make it anywhere before he returned!”

 

Legend whirled on the smaller hero, face twisted between a snarl and something dangerously like a sob. “He’s not coming back, Wind!”

 

The words rang out, fear spiking sharply at the certainty in the Veteran’s claim. 

 

“Legend- please, you can’t-” Sky choked, voice breaking completely as he stumbled a step towards the shaking hero. 

 

Legend opened his eyes again with a jolt, alarm darting over his features at the devastation looming over the group. “No-not like-! He’s not going to be using the transport again,” he stressed, speaking quickly as he leaned forward, hand rising as if to draw back the ill-phrased declaration.   

 

Warriors let his head fall into his hands, the whole group despairing at Legend’s carelessness even as hope bloomed painfully anew- Wild wasn’t doomed, no, but the danger of losing him was very, very real still. The others were coping little better: Wind slumped to the ground, back against the mattress of the Color’s beds, Four’s fractions all drooping into one another as Blue and Shadow glared at the Vet, their arms full of Red and Green respectively. Sky’s hands slowly fell back to his sides, shoulders dropping in relief.

 

Legend didn’t give them much of a reprieve. 

 

“He doesn’t have magic to spare for another transport, even if he wanted to. I- from what I could tell when I dumped my own magic in, it takes the full cost up front before initiating the teleport. If we’re lucky and the designers are smart, that would mean Wild can’t accidentally kill himself trying a jump he's not the magic to power. It leaves him stranded, but alive, at least.”

 

Vulnerable, though. Helpless. 

 

“We don’t know where he is, though,” Hyrule whispered, expression flickering with fear. His voice grew louder and faster as he visibly panicked at the sheer magnitude of missing knowledge needed to form a plan. “He could be anywhere, and his world is huge; we could spend weeks-”

 

“No,” Vio interrupted, before the Traveler could fully spiral. “He could be anywhere, but we know better than that- there’s only a few shrines he would have traveled to looking for Twilight and Time.” He twisted out of the cluster of limbs, striding to the door. “We need a map,” he said determinedly, and then was gone into the hallway. 

 

Wind drew his legs up, mouth rumpling in distress. “But even if we-aH!” 

 

His wasn’t the only shriek to ring out as Vio popped back into the doorway with such speed that the hand he threw out to brace against the door bounced it off the wall with a resounding smack. “What are you all doing? Follow me! There was one in the elder’s house, and we’ll need them anyway for guidance.” Then he was gone again, and this time everyone scrambled to follow. Sky didn’t recall seeing any maps, but Four had been doing what research he could manage on this place, up to the point he’d been bed-bound. 

 

Warriors turned towards Legend, only to have Sky swoop in, already bullying the Vet onto his back, hushing his complaints with, “Come on now, Vio’s not going to wait and we’ll have to leave someone to sit on you if you don’t- there you go,” he crooned as Legend gave up and clambered on. He turned to find Wind had already claimed Shadow, standing easily under his weight as Blue tucked a blanket around them, slapping away the other’s defensively waving hands. 

 

None of them said anything about the fact that the dark-haired hero could easily just dart into a shadow; Wind and the Colors were fully aware of the fact. If Shadow wanted or needed contact badly enough to stay tangible, he was hardly going to force him to admit it in front of a group of strangers. Strangers who were soul-bound to his counterpart, but still-

 

He didn’t need to force vulnerability on the little fellow, already weak and having been brought back to life in a strange world. 

 

They followed along fast enough not to warrant another riled Vio, luckily, Warriors darting ahead to ensure the single-minded Color didn’t offend any of the Sheikah too horribly, hoping that he hadn’t already just barged his way in without explanation. But the guard was nothing but concerned for the heroes, waving him past easily. Inside, Vio was already planted in front of the map within the side room, Paya hovering at his side and Impa standing nearby, gaze flickering over the painted landscape mounted on the wall. 

 

“Impa,” Sky greeted with a shallow bow from where he was heading the rest of the group, respecting her request to forgo titles.

 

She nodded to him before turning her attention back to the map, not wavering in the slightest as the rest of the heroes clattered into the room definitively too small for eleven heroes and a sheikah, even if six were child sized and two piggy backed. “We’re not sure of all of the shrine locations, especially those that have trials to unlock, but not all are so hidden. Paya’s fetching the map of those we’ve recorded that we might narrow the options down. We can also help with pathfinding; none are so aware of the hazards that await on the roads surrounding our town as we are.” 

 

“As I am, you mean,” came a familiar voice from behind, one that elicited a flinch from Sky and a beaming smile from Wind. Pikango stepped through the group, sending the Sailor a teasing grin and side-eyeing Sky slyly as the Skyknight scuttled to make room for him before the older Sheikah’s elbows made him clear a path. Paya slipped soundlessly down the stairs, handing a paper map to Green and taking up a wax well, deftly marking the mounted landscape with blue wax until it was spotted with color. 

 

Hyrule wove in closer to stand beside Vio and Green, eyes skimming helplessly over the giant display of terrain. “I’m not good at maps,” he murmured, “but I recall a few of the shrines I saw on his slate’s. Mine was in the desert.” And he pointed to the south west corner of the map.

 

Wind hoisted Shadow higher, frowning. “Mine’s easy- right on top of Kakariko.” He seemed a bit put out that his contribution was barely worth noting, but perfunctorily added his regardless.

 

Green hummed, fingers brushing through the air as if crossing off another corner of the map. “Ours was in the Hebra mountains, so we don’t have to worry about there.”

 

Legend grunted.” I was on an island, but I never got a good look at a map. Give me a minute and I could probably figure out which one-” Vio waved him off, flicking his hand at the island in question before snapping towards a strip of spiralling land looping about in the ocean. 

 

“Wars,” Vio said, looking to him for confirmation before nodding to himself when the Captain inclined his jaw. “Okay, Sky? Did you know where yours was?”

 

The knight’s ears dipped guiltily- he’d already been looking, but-. “Not on a map, no. I was in the mountains too, though.”

 

Paya handed a lit candle to Vio, who carefully dipped a pen into the wax and marked the rough estimations of the shrine locations for each hero present. Then came the harder part- trying to remember where the remaining lit shrines had been, knowing they may not be known by the Sheikah or marked here. After some discussion, they agreed Sky’s must have been at Dueling Peaks; Blue was adamant he remembered a shrine that had been glowing bright in those mountains on Wild’s map, and Paya mentioned that reports confirmed something was up in that area, at least.

 

Which left the hardest part of all- figuring out where Twilight and Time landed, or whether their shrines were even on the wall’s map at all. Duty fell to the Colors and Hyrule, as the only ones who had set eyes on Wild’s map for longer than the passing moments he’d shown them whilst catching them up before the blood moon, the star-spotted depiction of this world sparsely dotted with bright, colorful beacons of their arrival points.

 

A shame, then, that Wild had told them which shrines were activated by the Chain by name- all of which had promptly passed from even Vio’s memory within a minute, the titles far too foreign to hold onto eight of them. 

 

“They were near the castle,” Green said after a long pause. “One to the west, and one to the east.” And there were two shrines that fit, one in a field near Serenne Stable and the other at Riverside Stable”

 

“Wild went to the castle before the Blood Moon and met Time, though, remember?” Warriors said, gaze sharpening. It would make sense that the Old Man would be coming from the closest shrine, which would be Riverside’s. 

 

Sky perked up. “And he never came back with Wild, so he must be there. The Champion warned him it would be dangerous to stay- he’d have gone back to the easiest place to find him.”

 

Warriors nodded, but he was frowning. “I agree, but I’m not so sure Wild would have gone there. He was dazed, and might have considered that one marked off since he’s met Time, leaving Twilight at Serenne the only one he’d yet to save. In his eyes, of course.” he allowed, brow furrowing in memory of the delirious murmuring of the Champion, clearly unfit for any kind of dependable planning.

 

“Or he’d definitely have gone to Riverside,” Red said confidently, scarlet eyes wide and sincere. “You said yourself how worried he was for Time. If the locations he left for last truly were safer, he may have left Twilight in favor of trying to find Time, who he knew had been abandoned in a dangerous situation.”

 

It made sense, but- Sky thought back to Wild in the minutes before he’d left, glazed and unresponsive and all but unconscious. His voice was low enough to rumble as he quietly broke the silence, deeply tired. “I don’t know that he was capable of those kinds of considerations when he left.”

 

“He was barely aware enough to even get us back here; who’s to say he didn’t just pick a shrine at random?” Legend said grimly, his eyes a tad too wild where he was craning over Sky’s shoulder to take in the map. 

 

Warriors moved fast, putting a stop to that line of thinking before the Chain could lose hope and fall apart. “We have to assume the best, here. Maybe it was a blind choice, but he was cognizant enough to get away- we have to assume he put some thought into the destination. Those two shrines are our best options. Since there’s no way to know which one he picked, we’ll try both. Wetland first, then to Serenne. 

 

“If we’re lucky they’ll be there,” Warriors said with little optimism. “Or at least have news of one of the three of them. If Wild’s not coming back here, it’s all we can do to help.”

 

Paya slid soundlessly into view beside Sky where he could have sworn only Vio had been, and he jolted in surprise, only barely stifling a yelp. The young Sheikah thankfully ignored him in favor of brushing her fingers along a path on the map, voice quiet and trembling but determined.. 

 

“If you leave along the southern road it’ll lead down Sahasra Slope. There are wild horses there that can speed your way if you catch some.” Her hand trailed down an open wedge of land leading down the mountains. 

 

A small sound was punched from Legend, Sky’s head twisting around to find him frozen at her words, purple gaze wide-eyed as it stared at her in something he’d call horror on anyone else. “Legend?” Hyrule asked, at his side in a moment with worry on his brow that only deepened as the Vet flinched and pressed closer to Sky, legs clamping tighter around his waist. 

 

“It’s nothing,” he said in a thin voice after too long a pause, all eyes on him as he breathed shallowly, quickly. Hyrule met Sky’s gaze, the helpless look there cementing that this was no physical malady, but a mark of just how traumatizing these last two days had been for Legend to leave the Veteran the closest Sky has seen him to breaking in front of them. 

 

H e’d played it off so far, but clearly something had happened on that island past a mess of monsters and having to keep a sick Wild from being killed. Now it was a matter of whether they pushed the Vet to confide -which was not unlike setting off a bomb just so it didn’t blow up at an unexpected time- or let him keep his secrets and respect his boundaries, banking on him being able to handle whatever it is on top of the current unfolding disaster. 

 

There wasn’t time for a confrontation, but Sky would be damned if he sits idly by while one of his soulbound brothers suffers. Now’s not the place, though, and he lets that frustration sizzle as he slides it away to return to later. 

 

Legend holds on to his composure despite whatever rocked his psyche, though, and no amount of discrete murmured questions from Hyrule or worried glances are enough to budge him from his defensive hunch, and sensing that all their eyes on him was only hurting their cause, Warriors was quick to move the conversation back on track, though his eyes swept sidelong over Legend as he spoke, watching for any other signs of disturbance as Paya laid out the best course. 

 

Down the mountainside and past the marsh. Do not enter Hyrule field as they travel alongside it. The guardians were described, sketched out, and the Chain warned well away from them. If there was no news at Wetland Stable, they’d have to loop back southwest around Hyrule Field to get to Serenne through the Breach of Demise. 

 

Sky felt a shiver run down his spine at the name. It looked innocuous enough on the map, and Pikango didn’t seem overly concerned about it, save to mention a bokoblin camp that was near the road they’d take. And yet, to name a place with that name was no small matter, and he couldn’t help but dread treading there, wary of whatever had earned it the moniker. 

 

He could only hope that it didn’t come to that, that the missing trio would be at the Wetland Stables, that the suffocating trepidation crushing down on his shoulders was all for nought. 

 

(His premonitions… were never wrong. There was a reason he would not sleep until this was done.)

 

With a map in hand, the journey was not overly complex; roads and enemies marked clearly, no need to break through open wilderness. Warriors surveyed it shrewdly, clever eyes examining the map’s scale. “How long will it take to get to the stable, do you think?”

 

Pikango looked them over, eyes catching on Legend and Shadow as Paya tilted her head upwards consideringly. “If they catch horses?” She mused softly, gauging the sun through the window. 

 

Pikango nodded along. “If you left soon and wrangled some mounts, you’d likely arrive before midnight. On foot? Midday tomorrow, if you drove yourselves hard,” he said sternly, pointedly giving a firm look towards the Vet, who only scowled back. 

 

Warriors cut off any retort with a brisk clap of his hands, the sound making Legend jump, glare turning to the impervious Captain, shedding off of his polite smile and fixed eye contact with the Sheikah like water over waxed cloth. “Sounds like we’d best get going then,” he said, tone light and authoritative, his posture pristine as he unconsciously rested a casual hand on his sword, the other laying over his breast as he bowed to the sheikah. 

 

“Let us know if you need anything else,” Paya said, hesitating for a moment in the face of Warriors’ court manners before bowing back at the waist gracefully. Pikango laughed and gave her a slap on the back as she straightened, merely waving to the heroes as he herded the younger, furiously blushing sheikah out. 

 

“Just like that then, huh?” Shadow said. 

 

“Is there anything else we should consider?” Warriors returned cooly, a narrow eyebrow raised as his posture relaxed, weight shifting so he could prop a hand sassily on his hip. 

 

Shadow frowned and looked to Vio, who merely hummed. “We don’t have much to go off of to assess which is truly the best option,” he said with a frown. “It feels rash.”

 

Sky shook his head. “I saw Wild when he arrived this last time; if Legend says he’d not be able to come back, I certainly believe it. He only barely managed to leave at all.” 

 

“We’ll find him, then. And Hyrule will fix him up and we’ll make sure he doesn’t have to worry about saving us anymore,” Green said boldly, smooth tenor voice carrying the promise across them all. 

 

If only it was as easy as it sounded. 

The Chain was up and off within a quarter turn of the clock, well versed in breaking camp at speed and having been all but ready to go anyways for sheer antsiness after two days of increasing tension. Legend fought for his right to walk with rabid ferocity, arguing over wasting Warriors’ energy unnecessarily until the Captain finally washed his hands of the issue, giving in with an exasperated eyeroll to the sky above. 

 

“Fine, fine! But when you faint I’m going to leave you to Sky and Hyrule- enjoy dealing with them after you’ve pushed yourself too hard,” he said, expression purely judgemental. 

 

Legend’s shoulders hiked up a little as his expression soured, but he walked nonetheless, sequestered in the middle of the group. Sky pressed the coddling and hovering hard, walking close enough to brush shoulders with Legend as the other’s gait wove a little too much, reaching to support him as he stumbled again over an uneven patch of ground. It was mostly out of concern for the Vet’s pale complexion and exhausted steps, lacking his usual slinking, silent grace, but admittedly perhaps a little exaggerated just so he could vindictively enjoy the growing irritation as Legend gradually realized that they were hovering far worse than if he’d just consented to piggy back. 

 

Too bad for the Vet though- Sky knew it was far, far too late for him to swallow his pride now, leaving him stuck enduring Hyrule’s constant concerned “You still okay’s” and “Do you need a hand’s” and Sky’s own overshadowing presence, there at every stumble to sling an arm around Legend’s waist until he was slapped away again . 

 

He didn’t feel bad; Ledge had done this to himself. 

 

For all that he wasn’t on the top of his game, the pink haired hero did keep up just fine, even if it was clearly taking more of a toll on him than it should. Four had recombined before leaving, Shadow hiding within the shade cast by his slim figure and the cliffs rising above them as they traveled out the mountain pass. Their pace was brisk but not grueling, Warriors at the front setting the clip. 

 

It was quiet, the usual conversations that ebbed and flowed to pass the time utterly stifled under the heel of the driving worry for Wild and the uncertainty surrounding his well-being, his whereabouts, and Twilight's, and Time’s-

 

Well. None of it was going to be resolved until they were all together again, and in the meantime all Sky could do was make sure he was close enough to catch Legend when he inevitably passed out without saying anything and keep an eye on the others for any truly impending breakdowns. They all seemed alright for now, at least.  Wind’s spirit was kept up by Shadow’s gently witty  jibes as he melted into and out of existence within every adjoining shadow connected to Four’s; crimson eyes winking at the Sailor from under the stony shelter to their right, a devilish smile appearing in the anatomically correct place on Warriors’s shadow as it was given bunny ears before the snickering had the Captain turning a gimlet eye to them, suspiciously glancing around upon finding them all at a safe, unbreakable distance from him before turning forward once more. 

 

And letting out a short, choked off shriek as a scattering of large grasshoppers swarmed up from a cluster of flowering grasses he’d stepped into, a few ricocheting with audible pings from his armor as the rest buzzed off into the air. The Captain managed to backhand one with his wild flailing, sending it rocketing back too quickly for Sky to dodge, the insect thwapping into his cheek even as he flinched back with a yelping flail of his own.  

 

By the time he had his composure back, rubbing his stinging cheek while warily glancing about for any further bug’s lying in wait, the rocky walls of the pass were ringing with laughter, Legend leaning on Hyrule as he nearly doubled over in mirth, Wind’s bold laughter overwhelming as a grinning Shadow stepped out of the shade to bump shoulders with a silently-shaking Four, who shoved him playfully, a wide grin on his face. 

 

It was a welcome delight, even if it was at his and Wars’ expense and short lived, the Captain flicking his hands and scarf agitatedly and doing a terrible job of stifling a smile of his own as he tried to brush the event off, opening his mouth as if to say something and wisely not opening the door for any commentary as he turned forward once more and forced them to keep going. 

 

Sky’s beaming face softened into a smaller smile as the group quickly settled down again, the atmosphere no longer quite so edged in desperation. Legend still had an arm over Hyrule’s shoulder, the Traveler gripping around his waist in return as their heads bowed together, the Vet’s shoulders looser than they’d been since he’d woken up, a hint of a smile visible as he turned towards Hyrule once more to say something that drew a giggle from the other hero. 

 

Shadow and Wind were still tittering, the small pair dancing lightly about as they surreptitiously kicked their way through the grass, Four trotting up to walk alongside Warriors, reaching a hand to shake his scarf out with a small smile that only grew as the Captain’s gait shifted to a dramatic sashay as he draped it over the smaller hero, hiding the way his steps shortened for the other to keep up more easily. 

 

Sky sighed, feeling a little of the stress ease out at the sight. 

 

They’d be okay. 

 

(He ignored the drumming instinct that told him death awaited: there was nothing else he could do.)

 

-------------------------

Four POV

--------------------------

 

The mountain pass wasn’t too terribly long a path, the sun dampening a little as some clouds rolled in along the weaving line of sky above. There was a foreboding rumble of distant thunder, echoing across the stone walls, the sound nearly frightful with the amplifying effect of the cliffs around them. It wasn’t quite an hour before they first caught sight of the scenery awaiting in front of them, the group stepping out into an open grassy hill that sloped gently down the mountain. It was lovely as most of Wild’s world seemed to be- the landscape holding an overwhelming, adrenaline-edged beauty. 

 

That same majestic danger was reflected in the sky above; for all the glorious spread of land below them, the first thing to be noticed as the sky opened up before them was certainly the thunderhead looming ahead like a wave about to crash overtop the group. The sun was shining, yet, the sharp strength of afternoon only just now being softened into the warm, odd cast of light that preceded a storm. The sea of gray, rain-heavy clouds was all the more stark and breathtaking for the contrast, the clear blue of the skies above quickly falling away under the impending bulk of the thunderhead, rain trailing beneath like a gray shroud. 

 

A clean, breaking line of shadowed storm loomed, the wind gusting across the open air before them, sending the heroes’ hair flying back for a long moment before dying away again, the grassy expanse before them flattening in visible waves as the storm descended. Another rumble of thunder rolled over them, less disorienting without the amplification of stone walls but altogether far more alarming as lightning flashed down in answer, the whole damn mess coming in fast. 

 

They’d have to go through it. Four felt his trepidation and determination ping pong amongst the other heroes, all of them equally willing to endure the storm rather than waste a single second more sitting around and waiting. 

 

Four wasn’t the screaming type, but everyone had their limits, and by the gods, he was starting to near his. In the face of that emotional shitstorm, the thundercloud before them was nothing , even if he did loathe walking through the rain and being miserably wet for hours afterwards.

 

“Alright everybody, metal armor off! The lightning in this Hyrule’s particularly dangerous, and there’s no shelter along the slope. Swords and metal shields also have to be stored,” Warriors warned, face set unhappily, something paranoid rattling through his spirit as he shed his tunic to take off his chainmail, refusing to take his eyes off the flashing mess of rain and wind and lightning. 

 

“At least we’re on land,” Wind said, eyeing the storm shrewdly. “I’d hate to be on a ship with that incoming.”

 

Four eyed it with emerald distrust, Green being the least tolerant of subpar weather from a vocal standpoint, even if it did ironically source from worry for the other Colors’ getting sick or injured as a result. “I’m going to hate going through it regardless, I think. The wind’s bad enough already, and the rain hasn’t even hit us yet.”

 

Sky stepped up beside him, his sailcloth whipping out behind him like a cape as the wind caught it, snapping the fabric out like a banner. He frowned down at Four, seemingly unbothered by the way his honeyed curls were being blown about his face- the Smithy wished he could do the same, but alas; his hair was long enough that not even his headband could stop it getting everywhere as the wind tousled it into his mouth and eyes, and just barely too short to pull back out of the way.  “We’ll have to take care it doesn’t blow you away, Four,” he jibed lightly, though the curve of his lips didn’t hide the concern in his gaze at the oncoming storm. 

 

He’d been tense since Legend had arrived, the usual languid ease nothing but a thin facade of calm now, and even that was tearing at the edges. Sky was fidgeting and twitchy, displaying anxious ticks he usually didn’t possess at all; energy conservative on even a subconscious level , they’d always joked. And yet here he was, looking like the only thing stopping him from tearing down the mountain was the fact that he couldn’t feasibly drag all five of them along with.

 

In spite of it all he was still Sky, and his unrelenting concern for those around him was appreciated, if unnecessary. Four frowned, but didn’t reply, unable to deny he was trepidatious of the storm ahead, though certain it wasn’t anything they couldn’t weather. The daylight was gone, now, the world around cast in an odd, greenish light. The air went still, the scene strangely peaceful if not for the thunder vibrating around them in increasing frequency, lightning flashing near non-stop in the murky depths of the clouds looming directly above. He tilted his head back to gaze up the slope of it, blinking as rain fell, a few drops, first, then a curtain of water that left him dipping his face down with a curse, Blue grumbling as he curled into an interlocking ball of sleek, navy joints to better ignore everything happening and Green’s dismal commentary of it all. 

 

The wind followed right after the rain hit its stride, Warriors’ answering “Shit!” barely heard over the growing roar of rain around them as his scarf likely did something hilarious and woefully out of Four’s line of sight. The heroes closed ranks quickly, huddling unhappily together as they watched the world darken as rain and thunder overtook the sun. 

 

“Are we still going down?” Wind asked over a particularly potent gust, standing tall with one arm raised to shield against the pelting rain. 

 

Sky called back, face grim and determined in the odd, flickering half-light of the midday storm. “We don’t have much choice!” They all knew it perfectly well, despite this being the kind of storm they’d definitely have taken shelter for had they the opportunity. 

 

At least they don’t last long , Vio said quietly, utterly unsurpised at the tricolored chorus of ‘ shut up, Vio ’ that met his meager attempt at optimism. 

 

“Stay together,” Warriors shouted. “Keep a grip on someone else at all times- it’s going to be slippery.” He was already forcibly grasping Wind’s forearm as he said it, the Sailor gripping back without complaint as they led the way down the mountain side. Hyrule clasped hands with Legend, tucking into the middle of the group as Sky curled an arm around Four with a flush of protectiveness that warmed the bond between them like a bed of embers. The tall grass was wickedly slick underfoot, the height of it only serving to tangle Four’s legs as Sky dragged him forward, his hand gripping the smaller hero by his belt. 

 

The Smithy would feel a little more indignant about being scruffed like a harnessed dog everytime he slipped except that honestly, as the rain accumulated and the grass was tamped down along the slope into a nightmarish slick of glossy, green, frictionless ribbons, Sky’s grasp was the only thing keeping him from going down and staying there or worse- slipping down the whole damned mountain like that to brain himself on the boulders laying at the base. Ahead and below the others weren’t doing much better- Wars and Wind seemed the most steady, but Hyrule was having one hell of a time keeping a stumbling Legend upright, both of them spending more time with a hand or two down on the ground than properly walking. 

 

Shadow was hiding safely from the elements amidst all of this, and the violet-tinged corner of Four’s soul very badly wished he could join him there, the rest of him following suit as his feet promptly slid out from under him on the rain-slicked grass, only Sky’s tightening arm keeping him from going down entirely. He barely got them back on the ground before Sky’s foot slid too, sending him down to one knee with a splash and Four flat on his back, dragged downhill by the running water sheeting the mountainside before jolting to a stop as Sky’s grip on him held. 

 

Screw the rocks- maybe they should just cut their losses and slide down the hill anyways and ah, that was definitely burgundy hued, Red, no . 

 

“Sorry! You alright, Four?” Sky called, eyes worried and overbright in the stormy murk as he struggled to his feet so he could help Four up. 

 

“I’m f-umph-” he choked in answer, splashing an already-soaked Sky as he flailed and failed to rise to his feet, unable to find any purchase on the slicked grass now covered by a sheet of running water, already deep enough to flood over his boots and make moving his feet all the more difficult. 

 

Wait.  

 

Wait a goddess damned minute , oh fuck -

 

Four’s head whipped up and around, a hand grasping for Sky’s shoulder and pulling himself up the other’s crouched body as he took in the terrain around them: mountain peaks towering above them into the storm, the furrowed divot they were following downhill edged with taller mounds of earth. 

 

On the map, a wetland had been marked at the base. There was no river here, which meant all the water currently being dumped on them and the mountains above would be taking the easiest overland path. The rapidly deepening water rushing past his shins was more than enough evidence of where, exactly, that path lay. 

 

“Wars!” He screamed, splashing to his feet as he tried to be heard over the rain, hoping that Wind would catch his panic across the bond and look back. “Shit- Wars! We gotta get out of here!” 

 

Hyrule glanced back, the lightning illuminating the confusion on his face as he turned to find them seemingly unharmed, Four giving up on standing and instead dragging Sky forward. 

 

In hindsight, it wasn’t the smartest move, but, well- he was a little distracted. 

 

Sky stumbled after him, refusing to release Four from his grip, and in an instant was down and wiping the Smithy’s feet out from under him as the two of them slid down the slope. Four only narrowly missed Legend by scrabbling at the ground and managing to orient himself in a more streamlined manner, digging his heels in as they slithered past Wars and Wind, the Captain flailing an arm out and snagging Sky’s leg. 

 

It was only their own braking efforts and a fortuitous bump of land that kept Warriors from being dragged right down with them. Nonetheless, Four had everyone’s attention at last, propping himself up as water surged under his belly. “Wars,” he gasped, “We’ve got to get out of this gulley, if it floods-!”

 

A roll of thunder clamoring above cut off the rest of his warning, but Warriors heard enough of it to go sharp-eyed. As one, all the heroes’ gazes went down to the water sheeting down the grass they were on, the precursor to a growing river being fed by the downpour still raining down all around them. Sky dragged Four up, Wind quickly being handed over to him as well as Warriors turned to help Hyrule with a faltering Legend. 

 

Whatever he said was drowned out by the whipping wind, but he gestured horizontally along the slope, where the earth had risen up into bracketing stone, part of the funnel that would be bad, bad news if the rain triggered a flood. Wind held his ground beside Sky just fine, and Four- well, he didn’t do so well. He was light footed by nature, quick and maneuverable, and none of his slight, flexible figure did him any favors against the dragging pull of the water and dangerous slickness of the slanted footing. All it took was another close call before Sky was hoisting him up like a sack of potatoes, holding the Smithy under his arm like he was a wayward cat. 

 

Four let out an indignant cry that was more instinctive than argumentative, for all its ocean tint. The storm howled around them, and Sky-

 

Slipped, gained his footing, and slipped again, trying and failing to climb the arching incline trapping them like cupped hands. The rocky border loomed over them, promising safety if they could only manage to scale its slick sides. The other trio came up beside them, Sky wading forward to try to boost Wind up and failing, sending both of them slipping down the slope a few feet, drawing a frightening cry from Legend before they managed to stop. 

 

“We need to look for a more gradual area!” Four shouted, then went to repeat himself as the building roar of thunder covered his words with a blanket of sound. Except, the sound grew and grew and grew, and it wasn’t the air shaking but the ground, and Four twisted to look uphill, gray eyes widening in horror. 

 

A bank of water was pouring down, dark and tall as the rise of stone they were trying to climb, and Four had only enough time to shriek a warning that was lost to the roar of the flash flood before it was on them, dragging him away from Sky’s outreached hand in a moment. 

 

The world was reduced to whirling darkness, Four’s body tossed around and spun and slammed against debris, knocking what precious little air he’d had from his lungs. Disoriented and drowning, it took far too long to realize he’d been dragged from the leading wave of the waters to the trailing rush of river behind it, that the earth skimming painfully beneath his shoulder was a means to know which way was up, something to curl into a ball and shove off of, praying that the width of the valley won over the volume of water-

 

He broke the surface with a choking gasp, managing a desperate lungful of air before the choppy, stormy surface overwhelmed him, dragging him back down amongst the twisting eddies and snaring currents of the flood. It was luck and luck alone that he was thrown back to the air again, flailing wildly in a failing attempt to control his direction, to stay afloat, not even noticing his surroundings as they flashed past as he struggled to survive, to breathe. 

 

It was no use, though. The flood took him downwards again, and no amount of scrabbling or clawing at the surfaces he was dragged over slowed him as he spun through the water. There was no means of orientation anymore, not at this speed, not with his mind fraying apart and dipping away as his lungs burned, the Colors a chaotic flurry of thoughts and panic. 

 

He barely noticed when the rush of water around him slowed like a wave crawling over a beach, when his choking, spasming body was left adrift in calmer, still churning waters. Four settled onto the floor of the riverbed, reeds tangling around him as his lungs locked and spasmed, drawing in water. He thrashed weakly despite how his limbs burned with exhaustion, but the movement was uncoordinated, directionless, little more than an instinctive, last ditch attempt to search for air. 

 

Four felt his limbs snag further, felt the water pull around him, felt-

 

Air hit his face, then his shoulders, hands gripping at his waist to hoist him up where he could breathe again, if he could only stop coughing first . Each bristling, desperate hack brought up water, every sobbing inhale choking on the water still in his lungs, leaving him all but insensate as he struggled through the simple, utterly impossible task of breathing. 

 

The water rose, stopping at his chin as he dipped down, forcing from him a desperate flail and whistling gasp, too breathless to cry out. A muffled sound and he went under again, only for a moment, but plenty long enough for the fear to roar fully back to life leaving him scrabbling wildly, hitting against and latching onto the solid form beside him- no, the body, someone-

 

“-op struggling, I can’t-!”  The surface rose up over his head again, precious air escaping in a thoughtless, desperate cry, his kicking legs tangling with someone else’s, the hands around him tightening as they both struggled before blessedly cresting once more with a choking sob. 

 

Four couldn’t- Blueredgreevio couldn’t-

 

“-ork with me! Stay still , I can save us!” Words in his ear, a familiar voice nearly unrecognizable in its desperation and Four’s own oxygen-deprived state of mind, the meaning utterly lost to him as he hacked up more water, all too aware of how close it was under his jaw, how weak he was, how close to drowning again if he didn’t swimswimswim-

 

“I got you,” A second voice broke in, lower than the first and with an odd echoing aspect, the statement meaningless but the hands that lifted him from the water producing the same result. “You can go, Shadow- I’ve got him, it’ll be quicker taking only one.”

 

Four drooped against sodden fabric, gasping in deep, catching snatches of breath, feeling the water tickle in his lungs but finally able to breathe. With oxygen came comprehension, finally, and clarity that had him noticing the water moving around him, the hands hugging him to a chest, the familiar back to back support- tooth baring smirk- black pepper sting that identified his companion. 

 

He dragged his head up, held too closely to see anything but the tell-tale pink hair and crimson tunic before letting it drop down onto Legend’s shoulder again, content to let the other hero carry him to safety. Legend was talking, low, comforting promises. “You’re alright, Four. I’ve got you, I’m going to get you out of the water. You’ll be okay, the others are fine,” Legend said, and it was only then that Four realized he was speaking too fast, that he was radiating anxiety and barely tamped fear even as relief battled for dominance. 

 

“‘M okay,” he managed, squeezing Legend a little from where he was clinging like a baby possum to the taller hero. The others; minds flickered into range, and it was only as he shifted to try to shimmy closer that he realized Legend’s hips were undulating oddly, his whole body kind of wiggling in a snake-like motion, which was really, really odd because they were moving too fast through the water for him to be swimming in a dolphin kick. 

 

He turned, trying and failing to draw back enough to look at what the hell Legend was doing, only for Legend to spin onto his back and twist in the water, hoisting Four up and handing him off to Warriors, who wasted no time lugging him to shore, pausing a moment in the shallows for him to catch his footing. “Hylia above, Four, are you alright? Steady, now,” he coaxed, hovering intently over the smaller hero. Four staggered even with the Captain’s grip on his arm, still disoriented and coughing deeply, but Shadow was suddenly there again and ducking under his shoulder and urging him to keep walking. 

 

Four would have gladly dropped to the ground the instant they were out of the water, but Warriors forced them farther away, herding the two small hylians towards an advancing Hyrule, Sky visible further inland, seated but already lifting his head to look their way. The Traveller gave them a brisk patting down, asking for any pain, which was… a harder question to answer than it probably should have been, but goddess, did his body hurt. For now, the adrenaline was still running strongly enough to mask a lot of it, but it felt like soreness more than a dangerous injury worthy of Hyrule’s magic or a potion. “I’m fine, just bruised, I think,” he demurred, the claim instantly belied by the bristling cough that left his ribs twinging. 

 

Just bruised, right, Blue said dryly, and Green fluffed into a jade mass of feathers as he very notably did not judge Four’s decisions. 

 

Hyrule’s eagle-eyes caught the flinch, his hands popping the cork off of a potionand thrusting it towards him before Four could catch breath to deliver an excuse. Shadow took it in his stead, tucking Four’s hand around it and shoving it towards his mouth the instant he was straightened up again, his voice threatening and tense as he ordered, “Drink it, Four, you’re no use wandering around injured.”

 

Hyrule frowned at the dark-haired hylian, but only for a moment before those pressing eyes were back on the Smithy, Four crumbling easily under peer pressure and the sharp, twinging pain of maybe-possibly-more-than-bruised ribs. As soon as he’d drank it the Traveller was nodding his approval and moving past him, nudging him towards Sky with a quiet, “Have him sit down for awhile” to Shadow, who instead of bristling at the command and rebelling against any hint of authority over him instead chose this to be the one time he’d submit to someone else, taking Hyrule’s request as an order to be enforced. 

 

Shadow tucked Four into his side, dragging him over to Sky with an arm around his waist. Four didn’t fight him hard at all - the potion had taken care of the sharpest of pains, but didn’t touch the aching exhaustion from struggling against the floodwaters. Wind hovered nervously beside them, though he managed a shaky smile back when Four gave him a reassuring, wry twist of his lips. Sky reached an arm up to help lower Four down, immediately drawing him close and tucking his chin over the top of the Smithy’s soaked hair. 

 

“Thank Hylia, Four- are you alright? Legend knew which way you were, but when we couldn’t see you above water we thought-”

 

Wind interrupted him, a stiff grin fixed on his face as he crouched before them, shifting restlessly on his heels as his eyes skimmed anxiously over Four and Sky alike. “Glad you finally made it, Smithy. That was a nasty flash flood, and not all of us have handy curses or items for underwater breathing,” he said with a weak laugh. 

 

Sky’s head came up to give Wind a look. “Air potions aren’t much good if you don’t have time to take them- I think Legend’s the only one who had something that kicked in automatically.”

 

Four perked up, lavender interest and scarlet tinted curiosity sparking immediately; Legend was always tight-lipped about his items’ range of use, and the Chain had not yet struggled with any water-based fighting to call for him to share. He and Wars’ both had a wide range of fascinating weapons and charmed objects, but Legend was far more knowledgeable about the myriad of uses they could be put to and the nuances that always piqued Four’s fascination. 

 

“Oh? What did he pull out of the hat this time?” He wondered, craning his head around Sky to try to get a glance of Legend, still in the water with Hyrule and Warriors standing knee deep and conversing with him. But there wasn’t much to see at all; just Legend’s shoulders and head resting low in the water as if he were sitting on the wetland floor.

 

At that, Wind finally gave him a true smile. “Ledge is a mermaid,” he said with great relish. “He’s got the tail, the underwater breathing, the prissy attitude-”

 

The plot of land they were sat on wasn’t so large that the Sailor’s purposely raised voice didn’t carry, Legend’s head whipping around as a great fluked fin rose in the water behind him -several feet away, ye gods how long was his tail, exactly?- and slapped down with a sharp, booming clap. “I know envy when I hear it, Wind!”  

 

Four gave a chuckle that broke into a cough as the exhale caught on the water still tickling his lungs, Shadow’s hands joining Sky’s in trying to draw him out of the instinctive curl. His mirrored self pressed close, worriedly asking, “You alright, Link?” 

 

“I’m fine,” he assured as soon as he caught his breath again, inhaling deeply and feeling the answering bubbling in his chest that meant he wasn’t through just yet. “How’s everyone else? Sky?” 

 

The knight’s expression went almost sheepish, if not for the dark edge of self-consciousness poisoning the bond. “I would have been worse off if not for Ledge, but I’m good now. Fine to travel, and I can carry you if you need me to, Four,” he offered, and that-

 

Wasn’t unusual, the offer of a ride, so much as the inclination to keep going rather than rest really, really was . Sky wasn’t lazy, not in the least, but he always put their health first. Four was fine -no really, he was stop sighing, Vio- but he had almost just drowned, and still Sky was pushing to keep going.

 

It was exactly what Four wanted, but damn- he never thought Sky would be on his side of things. The victory would be sweeter if not for the sickening concern he could feel afflicting Sky’s mind, contracting like squeezing hands around the bond between them. 

Well, he could at least alleviate what of that was aimed at him. “I really am fine,” he said, doing a miserable job softening his voice when it rasped from where the water and coughing had scraped it raw. “Just need to get the rest of the water out of my lungs and I’ll be fine. Walking’s not going to make much of a difference.”

 

“You were practically drowned!” Shadow hissed, drawing a quick worried jolt from Wind that the shadow-born hero ignored. His damp hair began to sway in a non-existent breeze, and in spite of everything Four felt a spark of relief at the sign that Shadow’s magic was starting to recover. “You should be resting!”

 

Four sent him a flat look channeled directly through Vio. “I doubt spending more time on a sandbar too wet for a fire without any dry bedding is going to be any better for me than getting to the Stable tonight would be.”

 

“He’s right,” Warriors agreed as he approached. “We’ve got to keep moving. We’re not sure exactly where in Wild’s Lanayru wetlands we ended up, but heading east will get us on the right track to the stable again, at least.” He gestured with the compass in his hand off to the left- the storm had passed, leaving them with overcast evening light that didn’t provide much help in illuminating their surroundings, but Four thought maybe he could see a rise of land farther off. Everywhere else was just water and sparse, half-dead trees though, the inky surface choppy with the wind blowing through the open expanse of the wetlands. 

 

No roads or paths, no stars above to follow. No telling how far off track they’d gotten until they managed to stumble upon some helpful feature or another. Sky sighed, but took the hand Warriors offered, Four scrambling to his feet with Shadow’s hands fluttering unhelpfully around him. He grimaced at the tightness in his legs and the muscle strain tracing up his back to his neck from being thrown about and trying to swim through the flood, but it was nothing he hadn’t endured before. 

 

What he was looking forward to even less than walking though, was the fact that there was only one way out, and it was inarguably through the water again. They wandered back over to the waiting Hyrule and Legend, and Four couldn’t help but pause at the edge of the water, all at once frozen at the too-near memory of losing the ground beneath his feet and the air from his lungs. His height didn’t usually bother him, but here, now, he didn’t know if he could bear swimming so soon his near-death with the flash flood. 

 

Warriors waited patiently beside him as the others waded in, all of them wary and unhappy after the aquatic nightmare of an experience they’d just endured. Shadow didn’t say anything either, his limit on what he was willing to let the Chain put Four through almost audibly reaching the end of its rope, and he forced himself to step into the cold waters before he could think of anything more than the disaster that would be Shadow deciding Four couldn’t handle this. 

 

He does not need to find out today whether Shadow could out stubborn Wars and Sky in a misguided effort to stand up for Four, thank you.

 

His foot sank into freezing water, the silty bottom of the wetlands giving under his foot before he waded forward again, Warriors ghosting a hand at his back as he walked beside him. “We’ll stay close,” he promised softly, and the protective set of his positioning at Four’s side said it was just as much for the Captain’s peace of mind as it was for his. “If we have to swim, you won’t be alone, I swear it.” 

 

“I’ll try and find the shallowest places, but I think the water’s deeper than usual from the storm. If you have to swim, I’ll take the Smithy,” Legend said as he popped silently up from the shallows behind them, curling around them easily in the thigh deep water. Behind him trailed the mermaid tail, a long pale shape stretching on and on in the murky water before the ripple of water that marked the caudal fin passed by, leaving Four slightly jealous of how the Vet had managed to reach some seven feet. And, more crucially, be able to breathe underwater. 

 

Four’s throat closed around any playful jibe he could have mustered, leaving him to just nod gratefully, eyes darting over the dark waters around them. He knew that Wild had those odd lizard enemies that could swim, which meant there could be who knows what else waiting in the falling night, and he couldn’t help but feel very vulnerable even with the other heroes around him similarly on guard. But as they waded there was nothing but the rush of wind and lapping waves over miscellaneous rocks and small outcroppings of land. Four tried to breathe shallowly as he felt his inhales begin to catch in his throat, but there was no fighting it back forever- he was on his tip-toes and chest deep in water when he finally choked on the cough, his hacking seeming terrifyingly loud and attention grabbing in the otherwise silent wetlands. 

 

The group froze, Warrior’s hold helping lift him out of the water somewhat as he jolted through the coughs, the heroes all waiting for any answering monster cries or sounds of approach. There was no sign of having alerted any enemies, though, nothing save the shallow panting of his own breaths and the quiet lapping of water from the Chain’s fidgeting. 

 

“Maybe the flood sent them all away for now,” Legend hummed before dipping back underwater to swim a loop around them, ever vigilant for any aquatic enemies approaching unseen. But there were none, and for all that it was awful and freezing and deeply traumatizing being in the water again so soon, Four admitted it could be worse. Legend swept him up through the last deep well of water before the edge of the wetland gave way to a sweeping hillside, surging past the others and giving him barely any time to panic over being left adrift and afloat in the water once more before he was being settled back onto solid ground. 

 

It was done clumsily, Legend more or less dumping him from his arms into the shallows as he accidentally beached himself in his too-rapid approach, flopping awkwardly in water too shallow to properly swim in. Four sat up, caught between cerulean indignance and pine-green gratitude, both of which were immediately derailed by his first proper glimpse of Legend’s mermaid tail. It was, at first glance, white, before an ungainly flop settled it near Four’s knee and close enough to pick up the faint pink undertone, soft as apple blossoms. 

 

Without thinking he rested a hand on it, gasping softly at the flex of powerful muscle before Legend stilled, twisting around to give him a sharp-eyed look before just as quickly resigning himself to the examination with a disgruntled mutter, turning his head to survey the other’s swimming, just a tad too slowly to hide the blush touching his cheeks. Four beamed at the back of his head before dipping his chin and running a hand down the tail, noting the thin red watercolor shading that lined the scale margins and the paler crimson shadow tracing along the surface in general like veins, the fractal appearance giving it a nearly delicate, transparent appearance. 

 

Four scooted along its length, and with a sigh Legend twirled and brought his fin up and around to loop Four like an enormous snake and settle on his lap, the pink gaining saturation along the fin’s spines, the magenta blur only making the pale sails between the crimson spines all the more striking. It folded a little as he tentatively manipulated it between his hands, squishing them together when Legend made no move to stop him, jaw propped up on a hand as he lazily let Four have his way. 

 

He was the only one the Vet was planning to make exceptions for, though, because as the others drew near -Wind in the lead with a devilish glint to his eye- Legend finally uncoiled from around Four to awkwardly wiggle his way farther onto the beach, turning to his back and revealing another pair of fins starting just past the edge of his tunic, a little below where his hips made the odd transition between hylian and fish, that same magenta-crimson striping on the gauzy spread only on display for a second before there was a ripple of magic. 

 

Hyrule gave a sharp, angry cry, the sound clashing with Legend’s own pained exclamation as the tail jerked and snapped with a disturbing crunch of bone, flesh writhing and blurring under a haze of transformation magic before settling on hylian legs once more, pegasus boots in place as if nothing had happened. The transformation took only a handful of seconds for how much mass had seemingly condensed back into Legend’s modest height and all the physiological changes he’d just undergone to go from aquatic to bipedal once more. 

 

Speed had a price, though.  

 

Legend went utterly limp once it was over, and the sudden stillness and blankness of his mind meant he wasn’t just reeling from the shock of it. Not surprising- if he’d already been low on magic, doing a large-scale transformation like that would certainly take its toll, necessary though it had been. Four scuttled over to him, checking that he was breathing alright, considering he’d just shifted his respiratory system over from something capable of handling both air and water, not to mention it was generally the first symptom of magical stress-

 

Strained, but strong enough, even if Legend’s complexion had gone positively waxy in the weak light of the night. He hauled the other out of the water, Wind settling at his side with Hyrule hot on his heels, scowling as he huffed at Legend’s condition. “He didn’t have magic to spare for this,” he said unhappily, sweet voice sounding a tragedy in its misery. He was audibly resigned to it, though, as they all were- these last few days had been nothing but a disaster for all of them, one long string of harsh, but necessary decisions and their building consequences. 

 

Wild was no different, in that respect, even if he was at the most extreme end of the scale. 

 

“Is he stable, Hyrule?” Warriors asked, kneeling to rest a hand on Legend’s curled legs with pinched brow. The Traveller’s instinctive protectiveness welled up and died away just as quickly. 

 

“I don’t like it, but there’s not much to do for him but rest. Maybe another green potion when he wakes up, but at this point time’s going to be the best fix. And for the love of all that’s green  and good, no more magic .” 

 

Wars winced, and Four felt a pulse of empathy for him- he knew just as well as the Captain, and Sky, and Hyrule too that there was little to nothing they could do to stop a determined Legend from doing what he wanted or deemed best, and it's not as if they’d had much luck keeping away from circumstances that called for such sacrifices. Warriors looked to Sky, having a silent conversation -argument, going by the way Sky’s brows pulled together in frustration- before the Captain bent to scoop Legend up. 

 

Sky led the way, pointing to the gentle hill that should, theoretically, lead to a road that led to the stable. Wind flanked Warriors and Four took up the rear, Shadow rising to the surface of his shadow but not yet taking physical form, still weak enough to be constrained until he’d gathered some strength from coming back to life. 

 

Heat welled behind his eyes at the reminder, and Four forced himself to blink them back, to swallow down the flush of emotions as he had every time the miracle that was his mirrored self’s return hit once more. All this time searching, all the failures that had slowly broken Vio down to despair and left the other’s near rabid with worry and shared pain, and it was a random, horrible lunar event in a strange world that gave Shadow back to them, somehow untainted by Malice and the same golden-hearted, redeemed hero who’d sacrificed everything for them. 

 

Not now , he reminded himself, settling a little at Red’s watery chuckle and Blue’s gruff we’ve got plenty of time now . 

 

Plenty of time later , Vio corrected, the thought uncharacteristically warm and fond as a snow-shadow purple filament braided gently in with the others.

 

Focus , Green said, a reprimand and a warning that grew sharp halfway through, the sentiment behind it fracturing into a rainbow of Colors as they all caught sight of a problem incoming fast.

 

“Incoming!” He called, even though the advancing pair of mounted bokoblins were anything but subtle as they approached from down the hillside. Four drew his sword, Warriors stepping back with a weakly rousing Legend as Sky and Wind closed in front of them, Hyrule already holding a bow and drawing an arrow back, face focused. After Twilight and the Old Man, the rest of them were pretty evenly mediocre with a bow and arrow, Hyrule only barely managing to hold third place. Regardless, the monsters were riding straight towards them, and the Traveller landed a solid shot to one of the bokoblins. It wasn’t enough to take it down, but anything that made them less dangerous was a boon, and all their arrows were armor piercing war weapons first and foremost, not light game arrows.

 

Needless to say, the bokoblin wasn’t going to be using that arm anytime soon. 

 

“Shields up!” Warriors called, dropping to his knee so he and Legend were firmly protected by the ring of heroes. The horses parted around them, wild mustangs untrained to be purposely aggressive; Four let his shield take the blow from the mounted monster and redirect it even as he stabbed upward, feeling his blade catch in unarmoured flesh as the blin rode past, its inertia giving his hit that much more power. It cried out, dragged to the side and falling sidelong off its horse a few paces off, Four breaking rank to meet it before it could come up behind Warriors. 

 

The other horse had reared up beside Sky and Hyrule, which meant he only had this one to deal with; Four caught its wild sword strike on his own blade, knocked back a few steps by the power behind the hit. Having won itself time to get on its feet, the monster jeered at him and spun its sword overhead as it advanced; with no room to back up without endangering the others, Four brought up his shield, gritting his teeth at the impact that rang through his arm and shoulder but at least brought the blin up short, sending it staggering enough for him to drive his blade through it, followed in kind by Wind’s sword as the Sailor darted in himself. 

 

Four drew his weapon out and skittered back as the monster roared and struck out blindly, Wind following suit with bared teeth, already eyeing it for another opening that Four was only too happy to provide. He gave a short whistle to draw its eyes to him before locking blades with it, digging his heels in and letting his power bracelets match strength with the monster, grinning viciously as Wind laid open its ribs and hacked at its back until it went down, smoking and snarling and dead. 

 

The other monster was already gone too, leaving behind a handful of loot and useless, ramshackle weapons. The horses lingered nearby, shaking out their manes and eyeing the hylians curiously. Sky sheathed his sword and approached the spotted black one slowly, hand out to it. The Sheikah had said taming horses was as simple as getting on them and staying on, but this? 

 

The Skyloftian stood next to the horse, talking easily as it shuffled nervously, before awkwardly scrambling onto its back, nearly falling as it skittered to the side before he was atop it, settling his seat for a moment as it stood there, ears flicking thoughtfully before seeming to come to terms with its new rider. 

 

Four’s eyebrows were raised, Warriors blinking in surprise. Wind, for once, didn’t look anywhere near excited to be trying something new; he’d no experience at all with horses on his adventures, and had always been a little wary of Epona whenever she traveled with them. Hyrule had taken that role on instead, slinking towards the chestnut paint with bright-eyed intent, easing his way onto its back with just as little fanfare, leaving them with two horses and an overwhelming sense of relief that at least one thing had gone their way. 

 

“There’s a herd of some more farther uphill,” Sky said, craning his neck. “We can catch a third and ride double.” 

 

“Take Legend, and Wind, hop on with Sky,” Warriors said as he handed a drowsy, mostly out-of-it Legend up to Hyrule, making sure he was settled before turning to the expectant Smithy. “Wait here, Four, I’ll get us another one.” 

 

He blinked at the Captain’s retreating back, a little miffed, but joined Sky in coaxing Wind into trusting the horse was not going to trample him or bite him or in any way mortally wound him - it didn’t work too terribly well, considering the Sailor was perfectly aware they were wild creatures previously having been ridden by hostile monsters. 

 

When put like that , it was even weirder how easy they’d been to tame. And as if in answer to that thought and Wind’s first failed attempt to mount up on horse that resulted only in Sky getting a knee in the thigh and nearly dragged off the horse, a chorus of whinnies drew their attention to Warriors. The horses were galloping away from him, tossing their heads and not at all standing there for him to climb onto their backs as these had. 

 

Sky dismounted and hoisted Wind up, and Four watched as Warriors chased the herd about, every time a horse slowed and he drew near only kicking it back into a sprint away. One in particular, a black pointed gray, was running towards them, Warriors inadvertently driving it their way. Four glanced at the horses behind him, then at the one incoming, gauging its size and the feasibility of his hatching plan before running to meet it, or at least drive it off from startling their own horses. It ground to a stop and reared with a rather overdone amount of fright considering his tiny stature, and as it came back down to rest upon the ground he activated his pegasus boots, crossing the last of the distance as the horse was turning on the spot to run away again and launching himself onto its back. 

 

He had some very, very limited experiences with horses, and never with bareback riding at all; the horse’s coat was slippery, and he’d not quite managed to get his legs over it, leaving him awkwardly draped across its back and scrambling to drag himself upright with its mane, giving the poor thing a kick or two as he flailed. It jolted into a run even as he managed to find his seat, and the instant he was up and his legs on either side it ducked it’s head and fucking bucked .

 

Someone cried out his name in alarm, Four himself yelping as he clamped his legs and fisted his hands in its mane, ducking down to hug its neck as he tried to stay on, less to tame it than to avoid being caught underfoot. It wasn’t sustainable, despite his fierce grip; the horse was too big, and his legs too short to properly wrap around its body. He was practically falling off the side, one leg flailing in the air and a single crow hop away from hitting the ground when the horse shook its head and settled into a trot, a little bubble of magic forming and popping within the little hero as he clung, half falling, to the horse that now shared some kind of weird mental bond with him. 

 

Only a little one, but oh boy, he did not like that it had happened at all with zero input on his part. 

 

There was a flurry of footsteps and then Warriors was there, jogging to draw the horse to a stop and shove Four atop it, hand staying braced on his shoulder for a second as he gasped, drooping with relief. “Gods above, Four, have a little care for my heart, would you? I didn’t even know you knew how to ride!”

 

Four straightened up, jaw raising a little in pride. “Who caught this horse, Wars?” He said with a tilted brow, opting not to mention that he only barely knew how to ride, in fact, and this was exactly as harebrained a plan as Warriors must have first thought. The Captain didn’t need to know; his ego was hearty enough, they needed to monitor its intake. 

 

Warriors breathed a weak laugh. “You did, though it was a graceless thing. I thought for sure you were going to bounce right off, but I’ll be damned if you didn’t cling like a burr to this poor mare.” He gave it -her, apparently- a pat before hopping up behind the smaller hylian in a single enviably easy motion, settling flush against Four’s back. He batted away the Captain’s hands as they tried to reach around him for the mane, turning the horse himself and leading the group at an easy trot up the hill. 

 

There was indeed a road there, and the stable was in view to their left farther down. From the corner of his eye Four saw Legend perk up a little, staring intently down the hill at it, before slumping and leaning back against Hyrule in defeat, the healer only hugging him tighter, their disappointment already telling the rest of the Chain what was lacking at the little stable below. 

 

The Stablemaster’s face did something odd as he took in the heroes, his dark eyes skimming over them and then to the road behind them, following along the horizon as if searching before his shoulders fell a little. Four’s heart ached to see the same hope fizzle out in another’s gaze, to see mirrored their own disappointment and fear for those still missing. The man’s smile was genuine, though, if a little dampened, and he greeted Warriors gladly enough when he dismounted and approached the counter. 

 

Four and the others stayed on the horses, already full well aware that their wayward companions weren’t here and waiting only for any leads to head out in search once more. 

 

Warriors twisted around, waving them off. “Oy, dismount for a second- we’re going to get the horses registered and saddled up and then we’ll be heading out again.” 

 

Four slid off, ignoring the disconcerting span of freefall before he bounced lightly onto the ground again. A young man was already at the mare’s head and reaching for Sky and Wind’s horse, head tilted towards the stablemaster. 

 

“Oh, names, if you would,” the man said, and Wind immediately gave an excited bounce.

 

“Me and Sky have been calling him Masterhorse,” the Sailor declared, patting the serene, somewhat tired looking steed on his shoulder, jittering away when the muscles flicked under its skin at the touch. 

 

Hyrule looked at Legend, standing on his own but looking rather out of it, before the careless hand flick had him immediately panicking as he stared at their mount. “I- uhm, it- Spot. No, wait! That’s terrible, we can’t- Flower? Um Oak.. tree?” 

 

“Call it Forest,” Legend sighed, putting Hyrule out of his misery. Wind immediately began harping on them about names, and Four-

 

Well, Four was busy fending off a flurry of suggestions himself, Red and Green being particularly fierce in their mounting squabble. Unfortunately, the instant any of the colors disagreed marked doom for all of them; at that point, favoring any one would only lead to a headache and short temper until they settled down again, which certainly wouldn’t be happening so long as they rode the horse at the source of the issue. 

 

 So he was left trying to consider a name that wasn’t related to any of those being thrown around in his mind, and it was rather like trying to keep time whilst others were chanting random numbers but worse. 

 

Name her Hester No, no Sparrow Oh come on look at her, she’s a Stormy for sure You guys just call her Puzzle or something and be done -

 

Shadow’s voice called out, mimicking Four’s perfectly- “Shade!”

 

Cheater! Blue hissed, a bristling ball of navy indignance. Vio too seemed utterly taken aback, as close to sputtering as he ever came even as smugness sparked discretely within the whirling, purple ribbons. 

 

It didn’t take long at all for them to find that no one here knew much more than they did- Time had arrived at this shrine and left again. Then Wild, ill enough for the folk here to take note, had followed the day after the blood moon, and Twilight shortly thereafter close on his heels, both of the latter heading towards the goddess-forsaken castle that everyone native to this world seemed to agree would be nothing short of a one-way trip to likely-mortal trouble. 

 

Because of course they would. 

 

Before that revelation could spark the inevitable discussion of where to go there was a not-unpleasant fizz of magic that had Four jolting, Hyrule following a second later. Sky blinked, an ear flicking, but either didn’t notice or didn’t care about the fact that the harmless little empathy bond was suddenly a whole lot more secure and deeply rooted, leaving him with  a new, permanent connection to a horse . Speaking of, they were being walked back out, Shade immediately heading towards Four and greeting him with a head nudge that would have sent him staggering if he hadn’t hugged the mare’s head in return to stay on his feet.

 

Four patted the mare obligingly, ignoring Red’s crooning in favor of looking over their surroundings for anything of interest or worthy of further investigation. The other people there were watching them with avid interest, but they seemed fascinated rather than invested in any way. Warriors, on the other hand, was staring intently at the registry being shown to him by Lawdon, the bond rippling oddly with some kind of fraught emotion. Hyrule was at his shoulder, eyes glistening as he hugged himself. Before he could do anything to figure out what was setting them off though, Warriors was shaking himself and thanking the man, gently herding Hyrule towards their horse - Forest! Red piped in, cheerily ignoring Vio’s Good grief - and closing the conversation out. 

 

Legend was still more dazed than anything else, but not so much that he’d ever miss Hyrule’s clear upset, lifting an arm in invitation and rocking easily as the Traveller took him up on the offer, giving the Vet a quick hug before fussing instead. Sky looked on with clear worry as he handed Legend over, exchanging a glance with Warriors over their heads and seeming no happier at the dismal look in the Captain’s eyes before he locked it away, shaking the heart-ache off as he wrangled the lot of them onto their horses.

 

“I’m sorry we couldn’t help,” Lawdon said with a self-abasing twist of his lips. “I hope- we wish you luck in finding them.”

 

“We’ll do whatever we can to see them safe,” Warriors swore, his voice thrumming with steel-bound determination. Then he was leading them off across the path, waving them all closer, their horses whuffing and pressing together. 

 

“How good is your range, ‘Rule?” Warriors asked, before shaking himself. “Rather- how close would we have to get to the castle for you to be sure Wild and the others aren’t there? It’s not a risk we should take if it’s not absolutely necessary.”

 

Hyrule’s eyes drifted out of focus for a second before he shook his head. “They’re nowhere near that I can feel, but well, I don’t know, not when the castle’s so large. ”

 

“It should be empty save for maybe them, that helps. And they’d not have gone in, if what the Stablemaster said is true,” Legend pointed out, but the rigid set of his face was no more promising. “Still, to be sure we’d have to get closer than we’d like, probably.” 

 

“If that’s where they were headed, we don’t have much choice, do we?” Four said grimly. “Wild wouldn’t survive a fight against a miniblin at this point, to say nothing of one of those guardians, and the whole place is swarming with them after the blood moon.”

 

Legend swore viciously, and Warriors looked away, mouth pinched and shoulders tense. Wind looked anxiously between them all, jaw set in determination. 

 

The decision was easy, for all that it was awful. They rode on towards the castle, Hyrule reaching out for any sense of Time, or Twilight, or Wild ahead. There was no speaking, now, each of them too on edge to tolerate anything but salient observations, heads swiveling for the blue glow that would mark the guardians they needed to avoid if possible. 

 

If there was any advantage to the night, it was that, at least. They followed a field and passed a forest, the road looping gracefully closer to the hulking wreck of Hyrule castle. Sky and Wind slowed to a stop at the front, the Sailor silently pointing out the luminescent shine ahead and to the right, a tall tangle of glowing lines moving steadily along the wall before them, passing out of its shadow to reveal the spider legged hulking machine they’d been warned of. It was larger than Four had expected,  rising above a battered wagon frame as it paced past moving away. Beyond it, another guardian sat near the wall, stationary, at least for now, its eye roving side to side, covering the road in. 

 

“Fuck,” Legend said with quiet vehemence, softly clicking his fingers to their left, where another guardian could be seen wandering the fields there, leaving no open path for them. There was no telling their range of detection, no means of knowing if they had only a narrow window of safe entrance ahead by threading between the enemies or if they were doomed to a battle if they advanced. 

 

“Got anything yet, ‘Rule?” WArriors asked tersely, even though they knew he’d have spoken up the instant he did. 

 

“Nothing, and I think I’m getting the entrance, but it's hard to tell for sure.” He hesitated, fidgeting in the saddle until Legend rested a hand on his knee. Finally, he continued, hauntingly lovely voice low and halting. “I…don’t think they’re there,” Hyrule said carefully, trepidation shivering across the bond.

 

Sky edged Masterhorse back. “If that’s the case, we’d better pull back- that guardian’s coming this way again.” And he turned to draw the group back up the road to a safer distance, Warriors following suit only for Hyrule to gasp sharply  behind them, standing up in the stirrups and facing the castle still. 

 

Shade was immediately swiveled back around, everyone’s whisper-shouting of “what?’ and ‘did you feel them’ cutting off when they caught sight of it too. 

 

A portal, the throbbing draw of it tugging belatedly at Four’s core, its inky void barely visible against the night-shadowed road. It was planted farther ahead because of course it was, far nearer to the wandering guardians than they’d dared advance. 

 

“Couldn’t drop it off a little closer?” Legend bitched in a vaguely skyward direction, eyes wary as they flitted around the hazards surrounding their exit. Then he jolted, kicking Forest’s sides and turning him to face the portal, “Shit, go go gogogogo!”

 

His cries were punctuated by a droning alarm, the guardian in the field suddenly racing their way, the eerie ghostly blue having bled into searing, bloodied magenta. “The portal!” Warriors shouted, reaching to smack a hand across Masterhorse’s rump to get the passive creature moving. “Ride on through- don’t slow down!” 

 

So much for testing if the portal would be better split , Vio hissed, as if trying to distract them from the red dot pinned to Shade’s side, targeting them with unnerving steadiness even as the guardian scuttled in at a diagonal behind them. Warriors glanced down at it too, twisting back to check on Wind and Sky behind them. Four could practically feel his indecision, his driving need to be the last through to make sure they all made it, to ensure no one was left behind or injured at the foot of the portal and abandoned, the compulsion only hampered by Four’s presence on the same horse. 

 

Four brought a hand up to grasp Wars arm where it was tightly clasped around his waist, the muscles flexing under his hand as the taller hero pressed them both tighter down to their mare’s galloping body. “Keep going,” he called into the wind, “if we slow down or turn we’ll only hamper them too.”

 

“I know,” Warriors said back, voice forcibly flat, dread a dark, crushing wave as the beeping dripped into one long tone and Hyrule and Legend vanished into the portal ahead. Four caught a glimpse of Forest’s white marked flank beyond, saddle empty, the world going silent and air charged and heavy before they too were swallowed by the portal. 

 

The bright side was that going through at full gallop on horseback didn’t worsen the experience. The downside was that while he had a new worst portal jump courtesy of Wild’s world, this one was just as terrible as the baseline experience usually was. A heat that started as a comfort before with a near-audible snap it shattered into agonizing cold, freezing him right to his core and riffling a careless hand through the Colors, leaving the lot of them adrift and whirling as if trapped in a shaken snow globe. 

 

There was the familiar overwhelming awareness of the universe as they passed through it, Hylia’s protection doing nothing to muffle the crushing, flashing too muchedness afflicting Four’s razed senses. A moment-eternity-breath-blink later and they were tumbling through the air and crashing into the ground, his -their - body fetching up awkwardly as his their shoulder caught against something painfully, body buckling in an instant before their muscles could bend no more and he was flipped onto his side, splayed and shaking and helplessly trying to sort the tangled threads of BlueVioRedGreen out. 

 

For a moment, Red had it all, clenching a hand in pain as he drew one leg up in an attempt at the fetal position before Green suddenly was crying out, jolting straight as his ribs protested Blue snarling and twisting through the pain to rise and check on the other heroes, sure the pain and fear radiating their scattered mind was at least partially them as Vio slammed them back onto their ass, grasping at their head with a choked scream. 

 

Four was left scattered between them all, catching and snagging on different actions as the Colors struggled. It took far too long to recognize the feel of hands cradling his face, to notice someone speaking to him over the overlapping chaos of four strings of thought in one mind. 

 

“-can split Four, it might help. Give the Colors some time apart, yeah? No, no, don’t- here-” hands caught Red’s before they could scratch at his skin, clasping them as Blue tried to wrench them free, his head flailing up and about, dizzily taking in the other heroes in varying states of awake before his face was forced back to face Sky’s - best hugs o verbearing at times fascinating world views nap buddy - steady, intense gaze. 

 

“Four, split ,” he heard Sky order, and Vio decided yup, that was an excellent idea , knotting himself up and ripping away from the others carelessly, feeling the rest of Four fall apart as their seams unwound and RedBlueVioGreen were suddenly just Vio, crushed under the weight of his brothers, their groans and sighs of relief percolating through the fading ringing in his ears. 

 

“Oh gods above, what the hell,” Blue groaned, giving a half hearted flail as Sky lifted him off of Vio, who wheezed angrily into the grass, dizzy even as he did nothing but lay there and try to melt into the earth as it spun under his cheek. Around them, the others were clamoring, and now that he was alone in his mind he could finally register that everyone was panicking, and that Wild and Twilight and Time were still missing. 

 

“The portal’s still here, they probably just haven’t gone through it yet,” Warriors said tensely, and yes, now that he mentioned it there was that familiar sense of disorientation that lingered near the portal or was that just because he was maybe about to pass out -

 

Legend practically hissed back, voice little more than a snarl. “We don’t know how it works when we’re split up like this! One of us should go back through in case they need help!”

 

Vio lifted his head, propping himself up on his elbows and letting Sky gently pull him up, swaying. 

 

“-ou alright?” 

 

Sure enough, there was the portal, waiting, the world on the other side hidden by the spatial void separating them from the entrance.

 

“And what if it just takes us back to the castle, Legend?! The horses are gone, the guardians all around, you’d be stuck there, and no use to anyone- just give them some time, it’s been a minute , for Faror’s sake!”

 

“-look terrible-”

 

Only that long? Vio instinctively checked the sky, belatedly realizing it was day here - that was always weird - by the soft blue smear between the green blurs and suddenly he was drooped over the arm that was the only thing holding him upright, blinking dazedly at the ground as Sky moved to lay him down again. “ Warn me! Don’t just faint, Vio, goddess a bove are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” he gritted out, clinging to Sky’s arms and trying to stay upright, losing the battle against the unrelenting press of the Skyloftian’s smothering. “It’s just the portal, like always.” Apparently going through as Four still left the Colors reeling even if they split afterwards; this was better, but only just- instead of one completely crippled hero, they now had four mostly incapacitated ones. 

 

Except hey, Red was crowding in to worry over Vio too, and though flushed and too bright eyed he seemed far better off. 

 

Better after all then, good. 

 

Legend, meanwhile, was making a terrible keening sound in his throat and eyeing the portal with a very recognizable brand of unhinged desperation, unheeding of Warriors hands braced to hold him in place and his low, hurried placations. 

 

“Give them a little more time, Ledge, with any luck they’ll show up in just a-” 

 

There was an odd, warping ripple in the air, a sonic boom without the sound, pulsing in Vio’s chest like ripples in a pond for a moment, and then a cluster of bodies lunged out from the portal to crouch on the ground, and their presence bloomed into the minds of the heroes gathered there. All nine at once, and it shone golden and glorious for one beautiful moment before Wild’s soul frayed a little more and broke away, already half adrift.

“HELP! Hyrule get over here, he’s- oh goddess, he’s not breathing, no!” Twilight had none of his usual composure, his voice distraught as he cast wild eyes towards them, hands braced to help support a motionless, bloodied Wild. 

 

No, no no no - Vio thought, and it echoed between him and Blue and Red and Green, a denial and defiance alike.  

 

There was an instantaneous scramble towards the limp form cradled in Time’s arms, a surge of energy amongst the soulbonds, but for all the whirling worry and desperate nudging, trying to keep Wild’s soul together was as futile as trying to hold ink from water with bare hands, each moment bleeding more of him away from their reach. 

 

And he’d thought, in dark moments alone and separate from his brothers, when the four were still new and the nuances of their split bodies and minds an absolute mystery, about whether they’d survive a color dying. It was blessedly a question gone unanswered, for all that there were a few close calls, and a surprisingly successful muting of Green’s mind to fake his death.

 

And it had hurt so badly, and what distant, subtle emotions had leaked through he’d attributed to grief and guilt, the mental equivalent of ghost limbs as his crumbling mind conjured any little comfort it could from an imagined imitation of the brother he’d killed, the quarter of his soul that had died at his hands. Vio knew now that’s what it felt like to be cut off from the others, knew that it meant they’d kept him close even through his seeming betrayal, welcomed his mind and thoughts and emotions even when they thought he’d turned away from them. 

 

He’d done the same for them; dampening anything incriminating and hiding it from them but leaving the connection open. Vio had told himself its because to cinch it shut would leave him incapacitated, that as four parts of one hero they couldn’t survive alone, but-

 

He couldn’t have made it alone. Couldn’t survive and face each day without them at his back, couldn’t find joy and pleasure and drive in life without their spirits sparking his, a clean, closed loop. If there’s one thing Green’s deception had taught him, it was that to lose one of them would be to kill the others.

 

The Chain’s souls rested one layer out, but though their minds were separate they were bound tightly together. 

 

Vio could just make out Blue, having shoved his way into the heart of the mess and currently gently helping guide Wild to the ground before shouldering Time and Twilight away. “Move! I have this, go make yourselves useful out of the way and tell us what the fuck’s happening.” And the odd ferocity of Four’s voice snarling Blue’s words must have stabbed through the shock hazing Time and Twilight’s minds, the both of them drawing away so the more healing inclined heroes could step in. 

  

Legend was leaning forward  as he hovered at the edges of the grouping of bodies, eyes fixed on Wild as he shouted, “Get your bag, Green, he’s going to need a green potion NOW-”

 

And Vio’s not so sure that’s a good idea, but also can’t come up with a better one- not when the world’s wobbling every which way, and Wild’s dying from lack of magic and potion overdose, and a green potion could just as well kill him as save him-

 

Time’s saying the same, sounding the closest to distraught he’s ever heard the Old Man. “He hasn’t kept anything down. And you can’t give him a potion- he’s overdosed on them already!” And Time’s not stupid, he knows what Legend’s trying to do and-

 

Of course- he knows , he likely tried the same. 

 

“Worry about the damned potions later! I can feel his magic, I can feel how it’s not there ! We need to fix that first, that’s what’s killing him- fuck!” Hyrule cried out, his hands glowing brightly to no avail. Wild’s presence grew nebulous and foggy at the edges, mist breaking up under sunlight, and Vio felt the connection between all their souls shudder as if a keystone were shifting. 

 

“He can’t drink anything-”

 

“Is he breathing again?”

 

“Shut up, everyone shut up! What about a fairy?! Here- I’ve got one, go!” Wind shouted, releasing a fairy and blinking back furious tears as she zipped over Wild’s unmoving body, Green still breathing for him. Time had his face cradled in his hands, shaking his head slowly, though, and Twilight’s breath caught on a sob.

 

The Rancher turned away, hands buried in his hair, before his wide-eyed gaze seemed to snag on something, his eyes focusing on the forest around them, hope blooming hard and hot from his mind as he whirled back to them. “Wait- I know where we are- we need to move, now!” He barked, darting towards Wild and drawing him into his arms. 

 

Vio’s breath caught in his throat- something in his spirit catching and being tugged, the sensation near painful. In Twilight’s grasp, Wild looked already dead, bloodied and pale and skeletal, his soul holding to theirs by a fraying cord, a kite caught in a windstorm, fast reaching the end of its spool.

 

“Are you crazy?” Green snarled as he lunged after them, Sky wordlessly snagging Vio up to follow as Twilight broke into a run, weaving through the trees and onto a path. The smaller hero’s head spun at the careless jostling, the world slowing and fading out for a second before he blinked and won it back, breath shuddering as the others’ emotions crashed into him once more, crashing into his own confused panic and amplifying it. 

 

“He’ll die as he is- is dying as he is. Any chance is bettter than that,” spoken with worn hope, and gods, but it hurt more to think maybe, maybe they could save him, that so long as Wild’s mind hung on, even by a thread, there was still a chance-

 

Sky was praying above him as they stumbled after Twilight, towards whatever meager last hope they had, Vio’s eyes casting to the sky. 

 

Please-

 

And then Wild was dead. 

 

Gone, just like that. 

 

The Chain was sent sliding into the gaping hole where Wild’s soul had existed, the shimmering harmony between their minds falling to utter discord without him. Agony was too small a concept, and suddenly Vio understood what it would be like to lose REd or Green or Blue, because this is what it meant to have part of your soul ripped from you, to suddenly find yourself less than you should be, forever bereft. 

 

The injury they were left with bled into the nexus, the painfeargrief drowning all thoughts, all comprehension of self or anything outside of their loss. For an eternity, it was simply the Chain, joined and caught and united and destroyed by their grief. 

 

Ruined, they were, and there was no reprieve to be found, no comfort to be given. They were all of them locked in that dark place by the others’ screaming presences, the whole of their loss overwhelming each of them. 

 

Worst of all though, was how it was already fading. The pain already diminishing until Vio could think once more, knew where he began and ended in the Chain’s array of soulmates, as one of Four’s Colors. It was settling somewhere awful, and Vio was still crippled by it, paralyzed in the wake of the emotional and psychological trauma of the overload. 

 

The absence. 

 

He.

 

He wanted it to hurt, though. Needed it to hurt, because if it didn’t then that would mean it was alright that Wild was gone, that the bloodied emptiness where he should be was fine, was healed, and Vio couldn’t bear the thought, his mind stretching as if to wrap around the shuddering void where their soulmate had been, deaf to Green’s worried shout, Blue’s vicious, fearful demands to stop, Red’s screaming. 

 

If all that was left of Wild was pain, Vio refused to let it go. 

 

It was like cradling magma, like diving into frozen water, every nerve set alight, and all he had to do to make the pain stop was pull away and he wouldn’t, even as the other Colors tugged at him, even as they combined back into Four in a desperate bid to draw reason back to their fourth. 

 

Four gasped, distantly aware he’d reformed within Sky’s arms, mind scattered and ablaze from where his mind was still pressed against Wild’s-

 

Against Wild. 

 

Wild, suddenly there once more, alive and warm and weak and quiet, settled back into place where he belonged, the shattered wreck of their shared souls suddenly slipping back into tenuous balance once more. Oh so fragile, it was, his presence flickering and faltering but not dying .  

 

Alive. He was alive again, somehow. 

 

Four sobbed out a breath, and within the whirling, screaming beauty of their minds the Chain fell apart once more. 

 

Nine of them, once more.

Notes:

Legend: *arrives back and immediately dumps the jumping beans (heroes) right out of the bag (Kakariko)*
Legend: off your asses losers we’ve gotta go save an idiot

Legend: Sahasra slope, huh? Ha. ha. Ha. what a coincidence, what a crazy-
Sky: You good fam?
*30 seconds later*
Sky: Gorge of what NOW

Wild’s geographical names really do be triggering memories for the heroes left and right

Impa: No one knows the hazards around our village like we do
*starts to rain after the Chain leaves*
Paya: oh this is for sure gonna flood, good thing they know to stay off the slope amirite
Pikango: o.o

Warriors, carrying Legend again: In this Chain, you’re either a backpack or a backpacker, there’s no in between

For two deleted paragraphs worth of content, check the first comment; that stupid word limit on end notes has gotten me yet again

Warriors' fight with the crickets brought to you by my ongoing hate of grasshoppers and the way they leapbuzzFLY into your face when you’re just walking or biking innocently past them. Bugs are super neat and I really do actually love them but there’s no undoing the trauma of a grasshopper smacking into your face going 20 on a bike trail and wiping out and taking your bike partner down with you and both of you having to bike back to town bleeding because that was before you were smart enough to keep a first aid kit with you and it was a whole dang thing all because of one panicking insect with wings

For the record I loathe biking too, and absolutely recognize it as a personal failing at the root of it

For anyone whom it matters to, the Chain actually marked the wrong shrine for Twilight; they put him down for the one in the field by Serenne, rather than the one hidden in the cliffside he arrived at, which was unknown to the sheikah and not even on the map given to them. Doesn’t matter; it’d get them close enough to count.

That flash flood was also courtesy of the rainstorm that hit on one of my two dozen or so runs up and down that slope in game to scope out the scene, wherein I was like graphics are good but there should be so much more water running down this grass right now. It collided with that one video of watermelons floating down a creek and boom: flash flood scene that let me bypass all the enemies on the slope. Not shown: the mounted bokoblins, bokoblin camp, and a handful of bulbins from Twilight’s era all getting rekt by the flood. It ended up dumping them in the middle of the wetlands; Legend was obvs fine with the mermaid tail, Hyrule and Wind managed to stick together, Sky also swallowed more water than he should have and fared second worst, and Warriors just got lucky and was found quickly by Legend. None of them were carried so far out as lil Four, plus he’s not so great a swimmer.

Legend’s mermaid tale item turned curse doesn’t forcibly activate when submerged, but it does take active magic to keep himself hylian. The transformation also takes magic, but if he’d stayed a mermaid longer it would have been more cost effective, not that he really had a choice either way. He can breathe air and water, but water much more easily in that form. Breathing is a bit labored after he turns back -please, god, don’t make him sprint right away- and his legs a little clumsy, but that resolves fairly quickly.

Sky totally felt the bond with his horse, he just absolutely didn’t realize it was a weird thing because he’s already bonded to his loftwing. This lad’s just going around assuming that’s what happens when you ride an animal. Meanwhile Legend’s basically sleepwalking through his magic dep-induced haze, Wars is in full on leader mode, and Hyrule’s just along for the ride.

There is a little discrepancy in the portal arrival, yes, in so far as Twi and Time fuckin jumped right in yet still managed to arrive after the others had time to ride on through and settle a little bit. Chalk it up to the effects of spatial distance on time flux or whatever- that’s what I’m doing lol

Chapter 17: But It Said 'Just Add Water!'

Summary:

Chapter Summary: A whole lotta nothing goes down, to everyone’s chagrin

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Self Harm, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Ideation

Time at Chapter Start: About 11:30 PM
Chapter Spans: About 9 hours
Follow the Lights Equivalent: First Half of Chapter 11

 

Twilight was running again, feet flashing over deer trails he knew from years spent roaming this forest. He knew where to go, how the path would twist and earth slope. Twilight knew how powerful Faron was, and exactly how far their fountain lay. 

 

Far. Too far. 

 

Wild was held to his chest, dead weight. He wasn’t breathing, wasn’t moving, hadn’t been for far too long already and they were not close at all, not when they had seconds . 

 

His heart hammered in his ears, his boots pounded over the ground, echoed by his brothers around him, desperation and fear sharp in the air, burning his nose and making it impossible to escape, every breath a reminder not only of his own panic, but those of everyone else’s as well, his instincts screaming .

 

Twilight felt the moment when Wild died in truth, when the body in his arms became nothing more than a corpse, the last fraying strands of desperate hope breaking away. It was a soundless break, ( No ) the sensation of absence ( Please-! ) painless for the first split moment, shock numbing him briefly before his nerves blazed alight, the place Wild had just been nothing but vacuous space flooding in with grief and horror. 

 

The world fractured , Twilight stumbling as his legs seized in answer to a pain that was so visceral it leapt the gap between soul and body. He crumbled completely the next instant, breath trapped as a scream in his chest as his mind was rent in two, the part of him that Wild had shared suddenly gone. 

 

Dead. He was dead, and Twilight was screaming as he bent over Wild’s body, clutching him desperately as something fell apart within him, some vital element of his being suddenly stolen. He was left reeling, the world collapsing down to nothing more than his pain and the Chain’s echoing off of one another’s, building in steady crescendo as it sunk in, as it continued, as Wild remained dead , oh gods no -

 

He choked on a sob as he realized how viciously he was gripping Wild, Time’s “you’re hurting him, pup’ flashing through his mind as he dropped him and reeled away, shoulder knocking blindly against someone else as he skittered back until no one was around, screams echoing indistinctly in his ears, grief drenching every burning breath. Twilight gasped through his mouth but there was no escaping it, not the smell of hurt, not the pain ringing across the soulbonds, not the agony of losing Wild, all of it crushing down on him at once. He was left keening and blind to the world, one hand wrapping around his stomach as the other clawed across the nape of his own neck, curling defensively as he unconsciously covered his vulnerable points, shaking and shuddering in a tight ball. 

 

Someone was talking to him, maybe - was that a hand on his shoulder, an arm across his back? - but Twilight couldn’t focus, couldn’t raise his head or answer because it hurt, everything hurt and he knew the others did too, each racing breath carrying their suffering straight to his lungs and into his blood, sinking down into the roaring flood already drowning him. It was hard to breath like this, curled so tightly, nose buried into his pelt, but maybe that was better, the dizzy confusion frightening but oh, at least it hurt less than everything else-

 

Then, though.

 

Then there was something bright and beautiful, radiating devotion and love across the open wound of the place Wild had been in his mind. Twilight’s head rose from his fetal curl as awe and hope darted through the fracture lines of the soulbonds, hazel eyes wild and tear-soaked as he looked upon the glow consuming Wild’s corpse, Hyrule, Time and Warriors recoiling warily from the phenomenon. The light brightened and grew gradually more opaque as it blossomed into blue-toned fire, and fury and wild-hearted hope warred within Twilight as he watched it envelop Wild’s body, waiting breathlessly to see if this was desecration or salvation. 

 

It was a clean turquoise, like light cutting through a glacier, and just as cold for all that it flickered like flames. The swirling fire grew, and from its depths faded in the form of a Zora, recognizable even despite this world’s altered form. They took the form of a child, their scales a bright crimson that looked all the sharper against the blue light shading over them as they swam in the air above Twilight’s fallen brother, neither overtly benevolent nor harmful. They dipped down to Wild’s face, the familiar curves sharpened by suffering, the sunken planes of his features a tragedy carved from alabaster in the cold glow of the blue flames. A motion reminiscent of a kiss to his forehead and a musical murmur, and then all at once the fire hid them from sight in a glorious flare, a cold breeze looping around the scene and ruffling the hair of each entranced hero, raising goosebumps on Twilight’s arms as he shivered, not entirely from the chill of the gust. 

 

There was something unnatural, there, something prickling along his skin. 

 

In the following brightness of the dancing flames, the heroes around were starkly illuminated. Warriors had stepped back, knees bent in a cautious crouch as his hand went to his sword, but Hyrule had perked up, his ears flicking forward, his expression hopeful and awe-stricken as he leaned in. Time’s eye was narrowed in recognition, that piercing gaze fixed unerringly on the flames as if he could make out what was happening behind that bright curtain.

 

There was a gentle tug from an indeterminable place within Twilight’s mind, and suddenly Wild’s mind unfurled once more into the bleeding space he’d been ripped from, as easy and soft as if he were waking from sleep. The agony of his absence faded all at once into the ache of a scar, a ringing memory of the physical suffering kept sharp by the lingering horror of the loss. Another moment and it was like he’d never been gone, his presence flickering but warm, firmly settled among the Chain’s minds once more. 

 

Twilight didn’t move, didn’t breathe, afraid to shatter whatever this was, to break the moment and risk losing Wild, Wild who was here, who was alive again , and Twilight had shot straight past overwhelmed and right into total numbness, dizzy with bone-melting, distant relief.

 

Fear too, though. 

 

From the well of light the little Zora flipped gracefully up into the air once more, a fin swaying behind them as they glowed brighter still, a soft murmur -a distinctly feminine voice, fluting, almost- riding the wind over the silent flames before she faded on a breeze, gone just as quickly as she’d appeared. Twilight stared at the place she’d been for a moment, mind still caught on Wild’s spirit nestled against his, the sheer gratitude he felt for the nameless spirit and her miracle floating oddly through the foggy mess of his mind. 

 

He choked on a sob, hazel eyes wide with shock and desperate hope, staring at the still form left unmarred in the wake of the flames at the center of the group as Hyrule lunged for Wild’s wrist to check for a pulse, Warriors settling at the Champion’s head and resting a steady hand at his throat as Time crouched beside them, utterly still but somehow still vibrating the air around him with tension. 

 

There was a gasp, a shallow, desperate snag of sound, and Hyrule let out a jubilant, tear-lorn cry, his sweet voice ringing with victory- “He’s breathing, his heart’s beating again!” 

 

Alive. Somehow, despite how they’d failed, he was- 

 

“We got him back,” Hyrule gasped quietly, curling forwards as he clutched Wild’s hand to his chest, breath stuttering around a sob. “Oh, thank the gods!” And his voice broke around the benediction for only a moment before he gathered himself, expression settling into forced focus despite the tears still running down his cheeks. 

 

And it was that declaration that was finally enough to shake Twilight free from his paralysis, that settled the realization that this was truly happening , that Wild was, impossibly, back. As one, the rest of the Chain lunged forward to swarm around the resurrected hero, milling about anxiously just clear of the trio checking Wild over, very wary of disrupting his care in any way but desperate to be as near as possible, because for all that he was back, and breathing, something was very much still wrong .

 

It was in the way Wild was far too still, each breath strained and tired, in the sharp frowns on Time and Wars’ faces as they shared a dark glance, in the abnormal quiet of Wild’s mind, warm and present and unsettlingly still, too heavy and dazed to reflect the dizzy whirl of emotions buzzing through the rest of the Chain. It was plain in how Hyrule’s focus deepened, his fingers tightening around Wild’s wrist, as something like panic fluttered at the corner of his mouth for a moment, his breath catching as he and Wars alike tensed.

 

Hyruel shook his head harshly, glowing softly even as his expression slowly gave way to despair. “He’s not- he still needs help,” he said sharply, jaw clenching before that forest green gaze cut to Twilight, something otherworldly in the way the glow of his hands caught and held in his irises. “Twi,” he said, canorous voice nearly pleading as he silently called for the desperate hope that they’d been running for before-

 

No. The spring, just get him to the spring, and it will be fine.

 

Just like that, Twilight was thrown back into thrumming panic- Wild wasn’t saved at all, not yet. They’d been given another chance, more time, but- 

 

Time rose to his feet in one smooth, swift motion, beckoning a hand for Twilight to come closer. He staggered forward at the silent summon, still feeling slightly disconnected from the frenzy around him, everything set apart and blurred by the panic racing through his veins. The Old Man braced a hand against his shoulder, his gaze fixed on Twilight’s face, the lancing pale blue of his eye calm and serious, steady even now, despite what loomed once more over them. 

 

In spite of everything, Twilight took heart in that calm, that trust, shaking still but pushing through the panicgriefanxiety , shoving them back so he could do this . 

 

“We need to hurry ,” Time said heavily, and it was not meant for Twilight alone. “He’s barely stable and who knows how long it’ll hold before he-” Time’s words trailed off, the even pacing cutting short as even their eldest faltered in the face of another death. 

 

It didn’t need to be spoken aloud. There wasn’t another miracle waiting to drag Wild back from the beyond. If they failed Wild again, that was it. 

 

If Twilight was too slow, wasn’t enough, couldn’t do it-

 

Stop , he thought desperately as he trembled like a cat in the rain, heart quailing. Stop, stop STOP thinking about it before you’re useless! Time’s mind was warm and heavy against his  ( duets sung into the night, voices intertwining- the rush of warm air met stepping into a home- reunions after a long absence, heart bursting with joy ) but it was only more pressure not to ruin this, not to kill Wild , and he forced it all down, felt it roiling under the surface, but at least there it couldn’t hurt anyone but him. This isn’t about you-just focus!

 

Time looked askance at him, worry spiking across his woodsy scent in the short distance between them before it was lost in the whirling chaos of negative emotions of the group. Twilight swallowed, sending him a smile that was more of a grimace, knowing his panic was showing in his eyes and utterly unable to hide it- it was hard enough just to work past it at all. 

 

For Wild, he reminded himself .  everything else can wait until he’s safe and healing. 

 

Wild’s eyes were still closed, eyelashes only barely fluttering despite Wars stroking his hair, despite how Hyrule was gripping his wrist. He’d not awoken nor responded yet, motionless save for the weary drag of his shallow breathing, the effort written in the strained tendons of his neck. 

 

There wasn’t much time, but it would be enough- it had to be. Twilight blinked hard, forcing determination to the forefront, letting the fear and dread motivate rather than debilitate. “I can take him,” he said firmly, stepping forward as all eyes darted between him and Wild, sparing a moment to touch the hand Time rested on his arm, his emotions settling further at the warm point of contact. “I’ll call Epona- the spring isn’t far off, that’s his best chance. It’s healed me before, it’ll heal Wild too and maybe that’ll be enough,” he said tightly, desperation leaking into his voice despite himself, his eyes already skimming the ground for the familiar semicircles of horse grass because he’d long stopped carrying the horse call whistle around his neck, and he could smell some was close by, so where- 

 

Hyrule inhaled sharply, his eyes wide and frightened. “Not a Great Fairy…?” He said softly, face crumpling as he slowly lost his composure- he couldn’t do anything, was losing the cool calm distance the mindset of healer granted him to his growing helplessness, where there was nothing to hold back the fear. 

 

And Twilight understood that, shared in his doubt, felt not a trace of defensiveness when he too feared the spring wouldn’t be enough. But- “Faron’s a Light Spirit, not a fairy, but the spring heals all the same,” he said, as if speaking it would make it true, would force it to work and work fast enough. Then his voice deepened into a snarl, nerves fraying as he saw nothing but grass and weeds but not the one he needed, despite how he could catch a trace of its familiar lemon tang. “ Where the fu - ah!” 

 

He darted forward, dipping to pluck the horseshoe shaped blade of grass from its stem, lifting it to his lips and taking care to breathe steadily, the haunting vibrations of the plant warbling through the woods in a beckoning call. They were close to Ordon, just a ways down the road from Faron Bridge heading towards his hometown- Epona would be here in minutes, maybe even sooner if she’d already been on her way; she had a tendency to pop up whenever they were in his world, and occasionally in the others’ as well, seemingly with no rhyme or reason. 

 

“She’ll be here soon,” he assured the others as he let the grass whistle fall to the ground, fists clenching nearly tight enough to break skin as Wild coughed into the tense silence. The sound was foreboding, the weak gasp that followed only heightening the uneasy aura of panic in the clearing. For a moment there was stillness and silence, all of them uncertain, Twilight himself feeling like everyone was purposely avoiding staring at him with every second wasted here, the blame carefully sidestepped but present all the same, he thinks, maybe that was the bitter edge to the storm of fearful scents in the air-

 

“We’ll start moving in the meantime,” Warriors decided smoothly, shifting Wild’s head from his lap and sliding his arms to lift the other up, the rest of the Chain closing around them neatly, abnormally quiet as Twilight slipped into the lead. Time fell into step beside him, his presence as comforting as always even despite the dire situation; Legend was sulking on his back, pale and stubborn but wise enough not to waste time arguing against the indignity of it. Wind and Blue were bracketing Green, who was looking slightly unsteady as Red flitted around back and forth between them and Sky, who still had Vio in his arms. The Color seemed to have taken the brunt of Four’s usual disorientation from portal travel, but even though he was weak and somewhat dazed, it was still better than seeing Four in blatant pain and turmoil as the different quarters of his mind collided and tangled together. 

 

Besides, while these woods were generally peaceful, having more fighters on hand was never a bad thing. They moved swiftly towards the path that led to Faron Spring, and Twilight turned to Time, speaking loudly enough for the others to hear as he tried his best to focus on something other than Wild’s struggling breaths wheezing over their soft, hurried footsteps. “The road’s just through the trees here, Faron Spring to the north. It’s not terribly far; less than ten minutes on horseback, twice that on foot if you hurry. You can’t miss it; the spring’s to the left of the road, right next to it, and it’s never been hidden from-”

 

His steps falter as they get close to the road, the open air above carrying the unmistakable stench of monsters on the breeze. He breaks into a run, coming through the last of the trees and swiveling his head, lips parted as he tries to discretely pinpoint the direction of the enemies, how far, how many-

 

South. Not on their way to the spring, but close -so very, terrifyingly close- to Ordon, laying just past the bridge. He spares a moment to wonder if they heard him call for Epona, but there’s no sign of disturbance, little time to wonder… 

 

The tracks on the road are fresh, though, at least. This night, still 

 

“What is it?” Time already at his side, head canted to take in the overlapping evidence of monsters on the dirt before them. “Are they along our path?”

 

“No; they’re the other side, towards- towards Ordon,” Twilight says numbly, frozen in indecision. There’s no sounds of struggle or conflict, and the scents fresh and strong enough that they can’t be far off at all, but Wild -”

 

He twisted, taking in the dangerous pallor of the Champion’s skin, the paleness of his lips, the fragile stagnancy of his spirit against Twilight’s. Goddess, would Epona even be able to make it to him, if there were monsters in the way? They needed her speed, needed every minute she bought them when there was no telling how long Wild would hold out. 

 

Time’s voice drew him back, low and gently commanding. “Twilight.” The others were on the road now, frowning grimly at the tracks and warily eyeing the open stretch of path to the south for any monsters catching trace of them. “We can scout out Ordon, see how close the monster pack is. They don’t look overlarge-” And that was a lie , carried on a shift in Time’s scent as well even if Twilight couldn’t read the size of some of the footprints, marking out at least three larger enemies, even if they weren’t familiar to his world. “-we’ll face them if your village is in danger and meet up with you afterwards.” 

 

“I think they’re waiting,” Twilight said, eyes pinned on the road, the scent of sulfur and smoke drifting on the gentle breeze, faint as a distant campfire. There was nothing visible above the treetops, though, no rising plumes heralding destruction of his family and home. 

 

Not yet, at least. 

 

He forced the words out, feeling himself come very dangerously close to what he was capable of coping with. There wasn’t- Wild didn’t have time for this, Ordon didn’t have time-! “If I can still smell them downwind they’ve not moved far, even if these tracks are a few hours old. They wouldn’t wait until morning to attack, not when they have the advantage at night” he said in a strained voice, as if it wasn’t his parents, his brother, his friends whose lives he was talking about. He turned to Time wild-eyed, afraid to hope. “There’s a bridge, still, between us and Ordon- they may have stopped there, for one reason or another, they might not be at the village yet-!”

 

Time grabbed his shoulders, bracing him firmly as he gave him a brisk shake. “Twilight, we’ll handle the monsters, but we need you to get Wild to the spring. We’ll keep your family safe, but Wild needs you now,” he said intently, and it was a request, not a demand, in spite of what was at risk.

 

Twilight caught Time’s wrists and held on, eyes closed. Two places he needed to be- those who raised him, loved him through everything, adventures and all, and a hero bonded to his very soul. Those facing danger, and the one wavering on the brink of death.  Ordon was a straight shot just like the spring was, but- 

 

Wild had so little room for error, no time to waste searching for the hidden grove that housed Faron and his waters. 

 

“The spring,” he said hoarsely, and felt Time’s grip relax just a little, honey gladness and nutty guilt alike whirling in his scent, lining the crease of his eye. The older hero gave him another bracing squeeze, drawing him into a one armed hug and clasping a hand behind his head before drawing away, the group of heroes moving up the road towards the spring once more.

 

“We’ll scope it out and see what’s happening, Rancher. We’ll be careful, don’t worry,” Legend promised, eyes glinting in the moonlight from where Hyrule had taken over helping him along- he’d insisted on walking on his own back in the woods after being hit in the face one too many times with a wayward stick, Time tending to lean his head out of the way without regard for his cranky passenger, to the Old Man’s embarrassment. “Is your way clear? The spring guarded at all?”

 

But Twilight doesn’t answer right away, a small, tight smile curling his lips as he catches the nearing muffled drumbeat of hooves on forest floor, turning backwards in confusion before tilting his ears northward again towards the sound, bemused. “It doesn’t matter,” he demurred. “Epona’s almost here; I’ll ride past anything that’s in our way.”

 

Warriors frowned, the stress lining his fine features deepening as the group paced northward, all but jogging as they continued close the distance to Wild’s last chance. “You should take another, just in case. Four and Wind are small enough, if it's so close they won’t slow you down, and if it comes to a fight it won’t just be you with Wild .”

 

“Take me!” Red and Wind chorused, the sounds carefully tamped with the monster pack in mind but no less insistent for their muted nature, drowning out Green and Vio’s hums of regret and Blue’s ‘ don’t you dare ’ that landed on Red’s deaf ears. 

 

“Take Wind,” Blue said once the initial flurry of answers had passed, and Red gasped like he’d been physically wounded. 

 

“What?! Why-”

 

Vio sighed, lifting the arm slung over his eyes to give his red-hued counterpart a withering, weary glare. ““It’s a Spirit of Light , you idiot. What the hell do you think is going to happen to Shadow if we dump him in there , nighttime or not ?” 

 

Red sputtered, visibly caught between concern for preserving Shadow’s well-being and wanting to help recover Wild’s. 

 

Said dark-magicked hero rose into view from the depths of the forest gloom, pale in the dark of night but smiling wickedly all the same as he sashayed to Red’s side and slung an arm over his shoulders as they briskly walked along. “Damn Red, and here I thought we were going to be friends-” 

 

“Enough!” Warriors voice cut through the rising quarrel, low but fierce. “Wind, you’re going,” he decided briskly as Epona drew into sight before them, marking the end of the time they had to argue the decision. Warriors spared an admonishing look to the scowling Colors, the clear blue of his arresting gaze stifling the last of their arguments. “Four.. s,” he amended with a brief pause, before continuing on with admirable composure, voice matter-of-fact as he scolded them briskly. “You’re still  still not recovered from the portal, so don’t even try to play it off.” 

 

Meanwhile, the Sailor clenched his fist before him in victory, dark determination in the lines of his young face despite the unconscious jolt he gave as he looked upon the hulking horse. He’d always been wary around Twilight’s Epona, and the Rancher couldn’t blame him- the Sailor had no experience with them, and she was a particularly intimidating specimen, though no longer at the forefront in size thanks to Wild’s Kibeth. The mare stood tall over the heroes, powerfully built and well muscled under the burnished gold of her coat. She wasn’t breathing overly hard; a relief, because he was going to push her hard to reach the Spring. What she’d been doing to have come from north of the village he didn’t know, but so long as she was here when he needed her it could wait. 

 

Twilight grasped her saddle as she drew up beside him, hauling himself easily into the saddle almost before she’d come to a stop. He reached a hand down to Wind, the Sailor edging warily closer to Epona’s feathered feet before decidedly stepping close and letting Twilight haul him up to sit behind him, slender arms securing themselves around his waist. Despite the younger hero’s trepidation, Twilight wasn’t worried in the least; Epona was well used to ferrying small children about. 

 

Red’s face was still twisted in frustration, but he held his silence as Twilight gestured Wars closer, reaching down to draw Wild up into his arms. The Champion was wholly unconscious once more, the audible drag of each breath through his shuddering chest at once unignorable evidence Wild was alive and a terrifying reminder that he was still very much in danger. The instant he was settled Twilight turned Epona back down the road, the rest of the Chain backing clear as they broke into a gallop, leaving behind fearful worried faces to guard his home in his stead. 

 

No, focus on this, on Wild, on the spring. He could trust them with the monsters, with his village, it’s just- until he saw they were alright with his own eyes, he would worry. Would only see what ruin could have been, may be right now because he doesn’t know, after all -

 

No. Focus. On the hylian in his arms, the horse between his legs. It was all too similar, a scalpel hovering over fresh injury. The night sky pressing down as the pounding drumbeat of horse hooves echoed his own racing heart, fear for a companion gripping his mind. He was suddenly painfully aware of Time’s plight earlier- it was one thing to be present, to witness Wild’s suffering. To be pressed against that straining, agony stricken body was a whole new beast, though. 

 

He knows now what a kindness Time was giving him by asking to carry Wild then.

 

The ill hero twitched and strained against his chest, muscles tremoring and flexing brutally as his body failed, and Twilight could feel every single pained shudder. He held Wild carefully, every jolting gasp echoed by a throb of panic lancing through Twilight’s own chest in answer. A desperate cough drew drops of blood from Wild’s grey-toned lips, the next rattling rasp frightfully wet and weak. This close he could swear he heard the faltering beat of Wild’s heart, its limping rhythm barely holding out. 

 

Epona raced along the familiar road in great ground-eating strides, the forest Twilight had known since childhood streaking past. Every second that dragged by was too long, was another prolonged opportunity for Wild to be stolen away once more. Wind was silent behind them, muscles shivering from how tightly he was clutching to Twilight, the passing rush of air almost - only almost - drawing the sharp citrus scent of fear and worry away before the Ranchhand could catch it. Briefly, he wished he could free a hand to reach back and offer some comfort, but the thought of letting go of Wild for even a second-

 

In his arms, the dying hylian jolted, giving a faltering, jerking gasp that broke into a wet cough, the smell of iron bleeding into the crisp forest air. Twilight tore his eyes from the dwindling path before them, a frightened “Wild?” escaping his lips as his gaze caught on the blood trailing over the other’s face, Wind drawing a sharp breath behind them as he stood up to see for himself. Wild’s eyes were half open and distant, the sightless stare all too familiar from the last midnight ride trying to save his life. 

 

“How close are we?” Wind asked in an uncharacteristically small voice. 

 

“Close- it’s just a little farther up,” Twilight answered tersely, tapping Epona urgently with his heels even though she was already going faster than was wise in the darkness-drenched forest. “We’re going to make it,” but even as the promise dropped into the night and crumbled like an autumn leaf in a closed fist he remembered saying the same in Wild’s world, remembered the desperate hope and the moment it had all fallen apart. 

 

“We’ll make it,” Wind echoed, his voice firming as he affirmed it as truth, the staunch belief steadying Twilight’s own wavering faith. Another minute passed, marked by every one of Wild’s weakening breaths, and the fountain was right there before them, the soft non-light of the water nearly visibly reflecting out from the grove of trees it hid in alongside the path ahead, like diffused sunlight. Twilight slowed Epona from her breakneck gallop, keeping her at a brisk canter as he turned her onto the imperceptible path leading to Faron Spring.

 

From the well of shadow to the left sprang a buck, the instant before he recognized the shape sending a bolt of fight-or-flight jolting through his body, his legs unconsciously tensing around Epona’s body as he twitched in alarm. Epona flinched as well, her stride stuttering as she shied, sending the trio swaying in the saddle as she swerved sharply, the deer darting before them just out of reach before it was lost once more to the darkness. 

 

Epona let out a baleful neigh after it, skittering for a second before pushing forward once more. Twilight was thoroughly distracted by the way Wild was suddenly writhing and crying out, his voice fearful, the wordless cries heart wrenching. He wasn’t seeing Twilight, wasn’t aware of where they were at all, only fighting with every ounce of precious strength he had, and that was more than enough of that. Twilight rode Epona right into the waters, Wind sliding off gracelessly as she came to a halt, splashing knee deep into the spring before turning wide, ocean blue eyes up to him. 

 

“Shhh, Wild, it’s alright, you’re fine,” Twilight tried to soothe, afraid of the energy the other was wasting struggling, of the choking gasps as he helplessly pushed against Twilight’s grasp, the only thing keeping him from falling from Epona’s back as he twisted weakly about. 

 

Then Wild went still, the moment of relief shattered as his muscles all tensed convulsively, the iron-wrought tension holding him unyieldingly bowed in Twilight’s arms. Those blue eyes, mindless in delirious fear, suddenly went blank in the instant before they rolled back. Wind’s horrified cry barely registered, Epona tossing her head up as Wild’s heels kicked against her shoulder.

 

Twilight hesitated no further- hugging the seizing hylian close he launched himself from the saddle, more falling into the water than dismounting, crouching as much as he could without risking Wild choking on the water as he convulsed. There was no sign of Faron yet, but the spring’s healing was independent of their presence, had always healed Twilight before, so why wasn’t it doing anything now-

 

“What do we do?!” Wind panicked, eyes wide and horrified as he moved about them, glued to Wild’s twitching form as Twilight tried to hold him from the water without restraining him too tightly, the fragile bird-boned limbs straining hard enough to snap under the violent force of his seizing muscles. 

 

“Wait for the water to kick in,” Twilight said tightly, ears swiveling still for Faron, praying for the spirit to appear and fix this, somehow. Wild’s racing heart stuttered once more, beating more in random clusters than any traceable rhythm as he jerked sharply in Twilight’s arms. He closed his eyes, burying his face against Wild’s straining neck, listening to the splashing of the waters under Wild’s flailing limbs and praying for the only end he could bear to face. 

 

“Oh, young hero.” The touch of the foreign, fathomless consciousness against his own was welcomed with a breathy sob, half from relief and half from fear at the mournful notes of the unspoken words. Beside him, Wind had gone tense as a startled cat, arms at the ready at his sides as he whipped his head around at the brightening waters, only to freeze hopefully as he caught the shining smile crossing Twilight’s tear-stricken face. “What has been done to you?”

 

It was said without expectation of an answer, the growing glow dancing on the surface around them showing Faron was already at work. A pulse in the air, and in the next moment Faron was there before them, shining softly as candlelight in the moon-glossed night. The spirit unfurled from where they encircled their orb of light, tail swaying side to side where it hung in a graceful semi-circle above them, matte black eyes gazing at them like living void. In his arms Wild finally stilled once more, breathing fast and shallow.

 

Twilight settled the unresponsive Champion more wholly into the water, panic unabated as the gathering shimmer on the rippling surface had no further discernible effect on Wild’s faltering health. “He’s dying, Faron,” Twilight breathed, voice a wreck of misery and shattering hope. “Can you save him?”

 

“He has emptied himself of all his magic, ” Faron observed somberly. “ These waters will facilitate his recovery, but he stands on the very precipice of death, and it will take time to draw him away from it. Whether he has given too much to survive depends wholly on chance, now.” The words drifting across his mind hit with all the deadly force of an unwanted truth, a fear made real.  

 

“But he’s made it this far! You said you’re helping, now that he’s here doesn’t that mean he’ll be fine? He can’t- can’t just die, not now that your fountain’s healing him, not after lasting so long without it-” Wind’s voice broke, the tear-stricken denial strangling into silence as he turned away, fists clenched as his side, face downturned as his shoulders shook.

 

Faron curled tighter about themselves, something mournful in their aura. “ Death trails farther behind the point of no return in matters of magic such as this- he could survive a little longer yet even once he’s beyond saving. Even I cannot tell if he has managed to skirt such a fate or if my waters will be enough. ” They drew back, cocking their head, the golden glow swirling within them as their light-limned fur ruffled in a gentle, nonexistent breeze. “ But he lives still, young heroes, which is cause enough for hope. Do not let dismay take you before it is warranted .”   

 

Twilight’s heart caught, something desperate and warm as blood snagging his breath. “He could still make it?”

 

Faron’s demeanor softened, somehow, for all that they were in the form of a light-drenched chimera and frighteningly alien. “ I cannot determine his fate, but I will do what I can to tilt it in his favor. Keep him within the water and he will recover the magic he needs, as long as he survives the time it takes to build to something safe. Take heart, hero, and bravely risk believing it will be fine .” 

 

“We’re not giving up on him, not so long as he keeps fighting,” Wind said grimly, feet braced wide as he stared at the spirit. “Wild won’t give up, not after everything he’s been through. He hasn’t abandoned us yet.” The younger hero looked at Twilight, his eyes blazing. “ He died for us. Now he has to live for us.” 

 

The Sailor splashed to his knees beside them, reaching forward to grasp one of Wild’s hands. “You hear me, Link? You’ve gotta fight- you have to live, or I’ll never forgive you,” he threatened wetly, face crumpled in desperate hope. 

 

“It’ll be okay, Wind,” Twilight rasped, reaching a hand out to clasp the other’s shoulder, accepting the following lunge for a hug with equal relief, shaken and afraid for the other heroes and for Rusl and Colin and Uli and most of all Wild, who after everything still was in too much danger. “He won’t leave us without a fight, and Wild’s come too far to die in the very place that’ll save him. We got him here- we can trust him to last long enough for Faron to help.” He turned to the spirit, determined once more. “Is there anything we can do to help him? Any herb, any magic?”

 

Faron’s ears swiveled, the orb of light twisting and swirling in their grasp, forepaws kneading it mindlessly. “Keep him within the water until he has regained enough magic to survive outside its support. And- stay near. Your spirits are linked, oh youth, and will bolster and strengthen his own simply by staying at his side.” 

 

“We wouldn’t leave him, we won’t ,” Wind swore, and Twilight nodded as well, words strangled from him by the realization that their being there was making a difference, no matter how small. That the connection humming within his mind meant far more than a means to feel Wild die or know merely that he lived, that it had power and impact equivalent to the furious well of affection frothing within him.

 

“We’re right here- we’ve got you,” Twilight swore, head tilted to speak in Wild’s ear. The Champion was unconscious, his heartbeat still staggering along frightfully under Twilight’s trembling fingers, but his breathing at least, had steadied some, though too halting and shallow for the Ranchhand’s liking. Faron watched them for a moment before they faded away, the light still dancing within the waters marking their continued focus on Wild, the glow muted and soothing, near golden as it eddied around the trio like liquid sunlight.

 

They waited there, in the babbling calm of the Spring. Wind was uncharacteristically silent and still, tense where he was nestled at Twilight’s side with Wild’s wrist held delicately between his fingers. Twilight held the other hand the same, both of them tracking that faltering pulse for any sign of failure, of Wild’s body giving up as Faron had warned was yet possible. 

 

Every minute that passed was agonizing, but it grew less so as time drew on and Wild continued to survive, each breath a building victory over the odds. The panic-riddled moments of stillness in the heartbeat he and Wind hung off of grew fewer, farther apart, Wild’s pulse slowly but surely steadying to something weak but consistently rhythmic at last. 

 

The ill hero still looked terrible , but this- Twilight felt a tear slide down his cheek as he curled more tightly around Wild, swallowing through the thickness welling in his throat. 

 

“Twi?” Wind said softly, eyes large and hopeful and glistening in the moonlight. “Twi, I think it’s working!” he said with a hesitant smile, ears slowly tilting forward from where they’d been pressed tight to his skull. He raised his free hand to shake Twi’s forearm, hope blooming hard and fast over his face. “His heart’s not stopping anymore! I mean it’s still fluttering too much but not completely stopping and starting like before-”

 

The Sailor shifted, carefully leaning over Wild to gently rest his head against the other’s chest, lightly enough not to hamper his breathing as he listened to the Champion’s heart, smile only growing brighter as tears welled up in his eyes. “It’s better, Twi, it’s working! He’s not getting worse, he’s getting better like you said, he’s gonna be- gonna be fine-!” The rush of relief gave way to the inevitable crashing realization of what could have been, and Wind crumpled completely, sliding to weep against Wild’s side. 

 

Twilight rested a hand on his back, dipping his head to press his teary face into Wild’s shoulder, letting the relief pour out, all the panic and grief bleeding from him like a lanced wound. He whispered thanks to Hylia, to Ordona, to Faron and the Golden Goddesses, to anyone whose benevolence may have granted them this. Wind was beyond words, sobbing openly across their laps, half hugging Twi’s upraised knee and submerged to his chin in the glowing waters. 

 

Faron appears before them again, something affectionate in the presence that brushes against Twilight’s mind- the spirit, too, is relieved. Twilight always thought he was something of a favorite of theirs, for all that it was worth when his only competition who could see the Spring was Midna, sharp-tongued and ungrateful for all her virtues.

 

Twilight lifted his head, gaze warm as he looked upon the spirit that had helped him save his soulmate. “Thank you,” he rasped, shoulders dropping as the realization that it’s going to be alright stole the last of the tension from him. Sniffing, Wind raised his head, giving a frantic nod, though he seemed content to let Twilight be the liaison with the light spirit. 

 

Then Wild shifted in his arms, and Twilight’s breath caught, tilting forward to catch a glimpse of dazed blue eyes. The Champion gave a jagged twitch, chin lolling forward for a moment against his chest before his head slowly rolled back againt Twilight’s shoulder to gaze in wonder at Faron, mouth dropping open in awe. The warm light of the waters gave his snow-white skin artificial color, though it couldn’t hide signs of illness in the paleness of his lips or overbright, feverish shine of his eyes. 

 

“Oh brave youth, ” Faron said fondly, drawing Twilight’s gaze once more as some indeterminable aspect of their presence expanding slightly, like wings unfurling, though their appearance remained the same. “ You have no reason to thank me. I would not forsake one of my own, not while there is light left in me.”  

 

“I didn’t know if you’d be able to help,” Twilight rushed to correct, because it wasn’t that he’d thought Faron wouldn’t try, but that he couldn’t succeed. The spirit’s presence vibrated in his mind, something between a chuckle and an affectionate purr. 

 

“I cannot do much, not within what time you have here,” Faron said regretfully, their hind legs extending behind them as they swam through the air to hover over the heroes, before tucking up and bracing against their light orb much the same way he’d seen cats rabbit kick toys. “His condition is dire indeed, and he harkens from another world I hold no ties to. But he is of the land and thereby mine twice over. I would always do what I can for you, Link. You know how dearly I value those who hold courage close to their hearts, and there are none so brave as your warrior spirits.” Faron’s tail drifted down to brush affectionately over Twilight’s cheek, the touch warm as sunlight, registering as something soft and no more solid than seed down.  

 

Wild, eyes fluttering, tilted his chin up for a better look, and Twilight obligingly tipped his head forward to nestle his chin over the other’s shoulder, letting Wild’s head rest against his as their cheeks smushed together; the edge of Wild’s cheekbone was uncomfortable where it pressed sharply and pinched his cheek against his teeth, but he only shifted slightly to ease the discomfort, watching as Faron’s attention turned to Wild. 

 

“I’m Link,” Wild said, greeting the ancient spirit with the same weary, simple joy he’d shown a strange wolf in an apple orchard. He shook his head a little, leaning more heavily against Twilight. “Wild,” he added determinedly, words clumsy. “‘M Wild, too.” 

 

“Hero of the Wilds, it is a pleasure to meet you, though less so a pleasure to see you in such a dire state. Take more care, oh reckless youth.” Faron’s voice was chiding, and Twilight couldn’t help but smile at the familiar scolding and even more familiar epithet, having been on the receiving end of it a few times after staggering into Faron’s Spring badly injured. Wind barked out a weak laugh as well, Wild flopping an arm over the Sailor’s shoulders to smack at his back.  

 

Twilight felt laughter bubble up in his chest, giddy at the simple joy of the scene around him. He let his eyes drift closed, breathing in Wild’s scent, sweat-tinged and bloodied though it was. For a moment, he just drank in the calm atmosphere, letting quiet contentment build within his chest as the quiet burbling song of the water and Wind and Wild’s easy breathing soothed the ruffled edges of his composure. 

 

The moment was disrupted as Wild shivered violently, then shattered altogether as Wind cursed and twisted upright, meeting Twilight’s eyes in a panic before darting to Wild next to him. Faron had reeled back in alarm as well, ears pinned back as their tail curled closely about them, clawed paws clasping tightly at the orb, their inner light flaring sharply. 

 

Then Twilight didn’t have any attention to spare for them at all, because Wild was lurching sidelong in his arms and heaving up blood, the fragile frame of his ribs shuddering under Twilight’s hands as he coughed again. 

 

“No, no, no no no- “ he said, not even registering the panicked chanting as Wild panted, blood trailing from his lips as he drooped over Twilight’s arms, the dark red drops disappearing within the swirling water, leaving no trace even as Wild backslid right in front of him. 

 

Wind however, turned to Faron, the set of his shoulders aggressive. “Why is he throwing up blood? Didn’t you heal him?!” His mouth snapped shut against further accusations as Twilight hushed him sharply, his tone immediately quieting as Wild jolted once more, gagging and coughing up a spray of blood, the steady dripping from his gasping mouth falling into constantly clearing water. 

 

“ I have, and it is the reason he yet breathes. Recovery will not be easy. Your companion may not die, but that does not mean he will not suffer still, regardless of what care you give. There are repercussions for draining a body of its life source, and though death is the worst the others have their share of pain as well. That he is alive still means he will survive his foolishness, and memories of the days to come are unlikely to take hold ,” Faron said as if it was a comfort, and maybe later it would be, but now …

 

Wind cried out in dismay, and Twilight couldn’t stop his own choked gasp- it shouldn’t have been a surprise, not really, but for a little while he’d thought Wild was finally going to be free of the pain, be able to rest and heal in peace. The younger hero had already been through so much, suffered so badly, and now he was consigned to more of the same for the sake of healing. Twilight would take it, gladly, over death, but-

 

It wasn’t fair.

 

They had a long few days ahead of them, he feared. Twilight hushed Wild as he shuddered and slurred something indiscernible, eyes closed and face creased in pain. Another tremble ran through him, and Wild let out a small, disoriented whimper, drooping more heavily over his arm. Twilight gathered him back to his chest, worrying over the frigidity of his skin despite the easy warmth of the water around them. 

 

Wild let out a shaky breath, nosing into Twilight’s shirt before going still, unconscious once more. Wind turned to face them, dark eyes sharp as they looked Wild over before turning accusatorily back to Faron. 

 

“ He will be fine so long as he is not overly reckless while recovering ,” the spirit assured, and Wind’s demeanor tensed in apprehension. 

 

“Not- it’s Wild! He’s been nothing but reckless since we arrived in his world!” Wind flung an arm out, turning panicked eyes towards Twilight, expecting concurrence. “Sky’s been losing his mind!”

 

“Then we make sure he takes care, Wind. It’ll be alright,” he soothed, draping his fur around Wild snugly to try to retain his heat better. 

 

Wind did a double take, shock evident. “You- oh my go- you don’t know !” He exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at him. “You have no clue what he’s been pulling for the last two days on all of us! You think you have a chance?! He left Time behind, Twi! And Legend! War, Sky, ‘Rule, me, more times than any of them. He’s not let us stop him before this, what if- what if something goes wrong?” Wind’s voice was fragile, lost, his shoulders heaving as he caught his breath, shaking with nerves. 

 

Faron’s voice was a soothing rumble. “ Keep him in the water and he will be well, young one. As he is now, it is no great feat; you need not fear his demise in this place. ”

 

Wind hugged himself, staring at the spirit with distrust worthy of Legend. “Would you swear it?”

 

Faron twisted, spiralling higher above the water, hind legs hanging down. “I would not, but only because it is not an impossibility if things go awry. I am not a creature who bothers with deception, oh youth, ” and their voice was colder now, offended almost. 

 

Still, annoyed or not, they softened when they turned that shadowed gaze to Twilight. “I will be near if you have need of me, hero. These waters are at your service for however long you need them, to you and yours.” They tilted back towards Wind, tail flicking some water that had him splashing back with a scrunched face, before disappearing. 

 

Twilight sighed letting his head tip wearily towards the younger hero. “You just had to go and piss off the spirit, didn’t you?”

 

“Shut up, Twi, he could have warned us it wouldn’t be all fine and dandy.” Wind wandered around, peering warily at the shadowed foliage surrounding the spring, eyes tracing up over the tiered falls, the froth of water glowing like bands of sunlight. “This place is safe?”

 

“It should be, with Faron holding power once more. The danger was in the ride here, mostly.” 

 

Wind splashed closer to them, shivering a little. “Come ‘ere and sit down-the water’s warm, and it might be summer here but the night’s too cool when you’re wet,” he scolded, holding an arm out in invitation. The Sailor cast another look at the entrance to the Spring, but when there was no sign of anything- friend or foe- he settled in, tense and unhappy.

 

“I don’t like this,” he admitted. “It’s not… it’s not the easy fix I thought it would be. I figured if we could just get him here that would be it, and he’d be alright again just like that,” Wind snapped, mouth rumpled in a frown. “Like a Great Fairy does, though you said it was different.”

 

Twilight closed his eyes, letting his own discouragement fall to the back of his mind. “I know. But he will get better, even if it’s not as fast or easy as we hoped. I know you’re worried, but we’ll keep him in the water until he’s alright, and-”

 

Epona, who had wandered out of the fountain after they arrived and been grazing at the shore this whole time, suddenly jerked her head up, ears pricked. A second passed without any sound Twilight could hear, and then the mare was leaving at a brisk trot, her gait breaking into a gallop once she hit the road out of view, her fading hoofbeats quickly dying out in the night. 

 

Wind turned wide eyes towards Twilight, who winced. “I’m sure they’re fine,” he said weakly, and Wind only bit his lip and sunk lower against him, eyes darting nervously between Wild and the spring entrance. 

 

Yeah, Twilight didn’t have it in him to hope for the best anymore either. 

 

========================================================

 

Warriors watched the trio ride off on Epona, disappearing around a shallow bend in the road, leaving the rest of the Chain to worry even as they were forced to turn their focus elsewhere. The atmosphere didn’t budge from tense apprehension one bit, even as the heroes gradually peeled their eyes from where Twilight had vanished to face him and Time. 

 

He forced himself to take the ringing apprehension - waiting for the moment when the agony would strike once more, claws ripping into his brain to tear Wild out, uncaring of the damage wrought- and tuck it neatly away, ignoring it in favor of the fight laying before them. It would either happen or it wouldn’t, and there was no bracing for it, no kind of mental preparation that would make it anymore manageable if Wild didn’t make it. 

 

( “He didn’t make it,” Link said with detached solemnity, facing the shattered unit at military rest as he told them their captain was not going to be returning. Watched as their faces crumpled, their stances buckled, some clinging to stoicism and some not caring. They’d been waiting days to hear, hoping, their unit having faced the worst of the fiery attacks rained down by the advancing enemy, a victory dearly paid for by their number more than any other; there were only a third of them left, some only barely fighting fit.

 

Their captain had stayed behind and held the retreat, saving several lives directly and ensuring dozens more made it back to the supporting incoming forces after they’d overextended themselves to hold the line long enough for said backup. 

 

Captain Julliard Roscaro had been the kind of man who made an impact, vivacious and charismatic with a natural ability to draw people together. He’d been nowhere near ambitious enough to be a typically successful army man, but was inarguably a good Captain, happy with his lot and his warriors. He had survived for four days in agony from burns he would never have fully recovered from, dying like so many others to the near-inevitable infection from the medical supply shortage, the resupply lines cut off for days, now. 

 

Link didn’t say that he’d suffered the whole time, that camp had been out of sedatives or pain relief long before this last battle. He didn’t have to;  the screams of the injured and dying -even after this long- couldn’t be escaped, not when the medical tents were overflowing. 

 

He didn’t make it.

 

Safe phrasing, gentle even. 

 

Some blows couldn't be softened. )

 

Warriors swallowed, and locked it all away for now. 

 

He couldn’t afford to be distracted, and the people of Ordon deserved his full attention in keeping them safe, not least because if the Chain encountered any further failures the heroes were going to be facing some seriously dangerous amounts of demoralization and guilt. It was for Twilight’s sake, too- if anything happened the Rancher was sure to blame himself, whether or not his presence would have made a difference. He was already coping poorly, having been visibly overwrought and close to shutting down entirely when they found the monster tracks, only barely dragged back by Time and the reminder that Wild needed him. That the Champion’s life depended on Twilight getting him to the spring with all haste, and maybe that pressure on top of the fear for his hometown and the monsters’ advancing on it wasn’t better than a breakdown, but it was where they were at. 

 

There was no helping it- all they could now was try to keep things from getting worse. 

 

That meant finding out exactly what they were up against. He flicked a hand out, drawing the groups’ eyes at the sharp motion. “Hyrule, scout ahead and gauge the situation,” he ordered, voice commanding but not unkind. The Traveler listened intently, his usually animated features still and tense even as his ears flicked restlessly about. “Gather what information you can of the enemy- numbers, type, threat level to the bridge or the villagers. Lay of the land, possible hazards. I’m giving you twenty minutes to get back here before we assume something went wrong and come after you,” he warned, but Hyrule didn’t seem concerned. His eyes were flinty as he nodded, surveying the slope of the land around them before slipping off to the right. 

 

Despite his admirable stealth, Hyrule wouldn’t be Warriors’ first choice for a scout- Legend could be just as sneaky, and he had the best mind for what information was most useful to gather, as well as the greatest breadth of knowledge after Warriors when it came to monsters-fighting a war bridging time and space had given him useful experience in that, at least. Twilight could cover ground the fastest, and with his heightened senses often had the greatest scope of the enemy and their positions, not limited by sight alone. This being his world, Warriors would have picked him, to save on time searching for a vantage point if nothing else. 

 

But the Rancher was tasked with something far more important, and Legend was in no shape to be sneaking past enemies in the woods. Four was still split, three of the four Colors on their feet and battle ready if needed. Vio and Legend were both likely alright to walk on their own and thereby wait where it was safe, and Warriors could leverage each others’ well being to make sure neither of them did anything reckless to try to help; even if he was sure Four would be alright at this point, ensuring Legend didn’t over-exert himself was worth having him stay split.  

 

The wait was quiet, spent examining the tracks and trying to puzzle out what had passed by, and when. Even that was stilted, the bickering about what monsters it could be a tad too sharp before Time stepped in, leaving them silent once more; a good thing, considering they didn’t know how far off the monsters were, but a poor mindset for the venture at hand. Warriors didn’t like the idea of facing a fight like this, not with all of them distracted and on edge, fearing every moment that Wild’s soul would be ripped away from the nexus of their minds once more. 

 

That wasn’t even touching on the open hazard that was Wild’s death, now that they’d discovered they would know the instant he passed. It had been utterly crippling, the psychic devastation so overwhelming that there was no pushing past it, and for all that he feared losing Wild the coupled danger to that event lay in heading into a fight with that potential handicap hanging over their heads. If Wild died, they would all simultaneously be rendered completely vulnerable, and there was only one way that would end. 

 

“We shouldn’t risk fighting, not if we don’t have to,” he said lowly to Time, the two of them standing a little ways off. They spoke quietly, conversationally; if the others wanted to listen, they were free to. “They’ll have the advantage at night, and with Wild’s condition so tenuous… if he passes away while we’re engaging, he won’t be the only casualty tonight.” 

 

Passes away . Dispassionate phrasing that belied the bone-deep dread at the thought, the lingering shiver of his spirit, whole once more but remembering the feeling of being broken . 

 

All of that was for later to worry about, though. 

 

Time glanced at him, frowning, before something pained flashed across his face. “Ah,” he said softly, mouth curled in sorrow. “You may not have realized- Wild’s death wasn’t so sudden for all of us as it was for you. I could feel him fading even back in his world, the bond disintegrating before it finally snapped.” A long pause, the older hero looking up to the sky, face set in cool dread even as his voice remained as composed as Warriors’ had been- flat, almost. “If he dies again, we’ll have some warning. Not much -and I agree, it’s far from an ideal risk to take unless absolutely necessary- but we’re not going to just drop the way you fear, at least.”

 

Warriors swallowed, conflicted. He knew his ability to read and use the soulbonds was weaker than most of the other heroes’, knew it had its pros and cons. But in this he couldn’t bring himself to be glad of the reprieve from what sounded like an agonizing peek into the Champion’s unavoidable decline. Torturous, surely, but it wasn’t until Wild’s last moments that Warriors felt the sensation Time was describing; before he’d been caught in limbo, unsure if he’d even feel Wild’s death, checking constantly that the other hadn’t passed away without him realizing.

 

It would have been laughable now, if the thought of the whole goddess damned horror didn’t make him want to hide away and cry. 

 

 “You felt it so long beforehand?” He said, strain edging in on his voice as he sent an uncertain, gauging side eye to Time, aware the others were watching as well, all of them likely in tune enough to have experienced a greater degree of what Time had described than him. So long before, though. 

 

Had it been inevitable before he was even reunited with the Chain, then? 

 

The Old Man sighed, tilting his head back down, running his gaze over the others as a perfunctory check before meeting Warriors’ eyes. “I did. I caught up with Twilight and Wild after he’d used his slate one last time-” and here Legend made a soft sound of horror, burying his face in his hands where he was sat on the ground while they waited for Hyrule’s return, huddling further down as Blue placed a cautious hand on his shoulder. Time hesitated for a moment, but continued on, eyeing the Veteran with a commiseratory grimace.   

 

“He couldn’t afford it,” Legend rasped, horrible resignation settling onto his shoulders. “That would have been enough.” 

 

Time flinched. “Yes. Everything past that point was a downward spiral. We were headed to Kakariko when the portal appeared, but- he was dying long before we ever went through. He’d already stopped breathing back in his world, even if the connection hadn’t broken yet.” Sterile words, spoken blankly, as if they could encompass the agony of Wild’s soul tearing a fraction of their minds out as he died.  

 

As if language alone could capture the feeling.

 

“It was slow,” he said numbly, for the realization was a curse and a blessing, here. 

 

“Slow enough,” Time affirmed grimly, staring resolutely into the woods, and it took a moment for Warriors to remember why that mattered beyond being a cruelty Wild didn’t deserve even as it gave them a chance to save him now. 

 

Warning on the battlefield, that’s right. That’s good. Not so sudden after all.

 

It wasn’t so surprising that the rest of the time was spent in silence.

 

Hyrule was back well within his allotted time, Red and Blue perking up on their watch a minute or so before he slipped quietly from the shadows, his bright color glow casting over leaves- simple joys in little things- soundless press of boot against earth nestled comfortably against his mind. “Good news,” the Traveller said with a small smile, melodic voice lilting through the quiet of the night. “The bridge is out, with the monsters on the wrong side to attack Ordon.” 

 

Warriors perked up immediately. “Really? Did you get a decent count? Were the monsters recognizable, any of them flight capable?”

 

Hyrule hummed. “Not that I’m aware of, but I doubt it- there were villagers on the other side keeping watch, and if Ordon was under aerial attack I don’t think they’d be bothering splitting themselves up like that. There were around twenty in total; a bunch of… squatty little rockish monsters that I’ve never seen before, four lizalfos that looked kind of like Time’s, and three two legged dinosaur things that seemed fire based from the feel of them. They all did, really-everything had that burnt forest smell.”

 

Warriors felt his lips pinch just a little bit. “And the terrain?”

 

Hyrule’s face did something complicated. “It’s flat, not a lot of land. I can’t tell how it connects back to the road because of the angle but-”He shifted, pointing over his shoulder. “I know it’s not great- I can go on, but I found an overlook that I can show you instead if you like. I don’t know how far the crevasse reaches, but the situation seems stable for now. Warriors glanced at Time, an agreement passing between them, though the older hylian was unhappy about it, by the narrow tilt of his lips. Impatient, for once, antsy to get this situation resolved one way or the other and get to the spring. 

 

Warriors understood perfectly well, but Twilight would flay them if the Chain left Ordon to a pack of monsters. “I’ll go,” he accepted, and Sky let out a frustrated hiss, Legend and Blue both cursing under their breath. “It won’t take long, not now that Hyrule has the spot,” he said to the group, tone sharp. 

 

There was an unhappy snarl behind him, but he didn’t have to make out the words to know that Sky wasn’t happy to be made to wait again. He hoped Time would talk him down while he was gone, but knew it was far more likely the older hylian would simply recognize there was no making the tense hero less irate and opt to supervise to make sure it didn’t escalate. 

 

He followed after Hyrule, marveling at the deep darkness of Twilight’s woods, the trees somehow enclosing them tightly despite the comparative openness of the forest, the undergrowth sparse between the giant old growth trees. Hyrule dodged around in front of him, light footed as a darting deer before finally coming to a stop by a young oak, patting its knotted trunk with a small smile. 

 

Warriors’ expression dropped, the slow shake of his head quickening as Hyrule’s smile grew into a grin and he pointed upwards with a glint in his eye. Yup , he mouthed, his expression impish as he steamrolled right over Warriors’ emphatic No to drag the taller hero to the tree and shove him towards it, nudging an arm up until the Captain obligingly grasped the gnarled bark. 

 

“Not all of us can squirrel up a tree, ‘Rule!” He hissed, so hushed as to be near inaudible. 

 

“I know you weren’t always so straight-laced, Wars, nice try,” the other whispered, shoving a shoulder under his butt to lift him higher along the tree trunk. Warriors bit back the indignant yelp, biting his cheek as he grasped a branch he’d been pushed into range of, feet snagging for a moment before he got his other hand on it too and pulled himself up and farther along the thick branch, Hyrule following after a moment later with enviable ease. The Traveller led the way, weaving higher into the tree’s canopy before settling in a forked branch, gesturing at Wars to take up position above him against the narrowed trunk of the tree. He did so, and found the leaves split in a relatively nice series of windows to the road a cliffside below, separated from them by a healthy span of forest. It was a distant view, but a clear one, and Warriors had always been more far-sighted anyways. 

 

A perfect vantage point; far enough away to go unnoticed, but with a straight enough view to get a good read of the layout below; Hyrule may not have been his first pick for a scout, but there was a reason Warriors hadn’t hesitated in choosing him from the options at hand. 

 

Then he looked closer, and uhm, yeah. Huh. 

 

It wasn’t a crevasse that the bride normally connected over at all, but the gap between two islands of land, trunks of unimaginably large trees reaching down into the mist below and stretching above. The realization that the ground under their feet wasn’t truly ground level, that it was somewhere far, far below in that fog, a mess of massive roots and who knows what- it was disconcerting . The forest they’d been traveling through, the one that surrounded the road, whose age he’d been marveling at, it was nothing , babies on the last outstretch of the mainland before the ground apparently dropped off at the edge of the kingdom and the truly old growth forest took over. 

 

Warriors hated feeling so small. Glancing at Hyrule’s awed look, they were having intrinsically different reactions to the view.

 

Across the open space was the island -plateau? There was no way of knowing, only that it too, was up here instead of down at surface level what the hell - that Ordon must exist on; through the gaps in the leaves he could make out other such croppings of land around the tree trunks, the rising cliff of land hidden by the thousand year old wood that bolstered it. It was like nothing he’d ever seen before, and also not very relevant at all to the issue at hand.. 

 

He forced himself to turn his gaze back to the monsters, who seemed somehow far more mundane now in this strange fantasy landscape. There was less land than he’d have expected between the drop off and the uprising cliffside leading to the young forest. Their angle blocked him from seeing clearly how it connected to the road; it looked like a tunnel into the cliff, the only opening he could make out, making that dead end a highly defensible position, damn it . 

 

 From here he could make out the monsters, all of them active despite the hour of night as they paced at the entrance of the now broken rope and plank bridge. The Ordonians seemed to have cut it from the village side, leaving the monsters with the whole length to draw up on their side, a mostly functional bridge at the ready if they could only find a way to secure it across the open stretch of air- but Warriors knew perfectly well that bridge building didn’t work like that, that this would have to be started over from scratch to bear the weight of the monsters milling about. There was only a pair of villagers keeping watch, one currently sleeping while the other faced the monsters, barely visible through the leaves.  

 

Hyrule had been right on the monsters, though- they were fire based, the lot of them. It was hard to make out exact numbers around the leaves clouding his line of sight, but Warriors at least knew what he was looking at. Lean muscled build, armor covering the most vulnerable parts of them without hampering their speed, armed with long-range spears and reptilian teeth and spiked whiplash tails- unfortunately those were dynalfos though, not lizalfos, though he understood how Rule could confuse them, having none of either in his own world. They’d only faced Twilight’s lizalfos before, and these were even worse, armored and faster than he’d like to face if they proved infected, as most monsters had been lately. 

 

They were accompanied by helmasaurs, the armored slope of their backs shining in the moonlight as they roved around like angry, hip high helmets, though there seemed to be two varieties below, a few of them larger and smoother than the others. Those he only recognized because of an unfortunate fire dungeon in Legend’s world, but the dodongos- well, Warriors could have happily gone longer without seeing them again, nonetheless three of the damned things below, fire flickering under their skin along their throat and belly as they settled within the glowing embers of the nests they’d made themselves from forest detritus. Icing on the cake, swarming around were stalfos as well, gathering wood with their comparatively dexterous hands as the more monstrous enemies prowled along the edge of the gap. 

 

The group was doing something, certainly, but there wasn’t much progress being made at all. As he watched, they seemed to be trying to construct a makeshift bridge, but it would take time to gather the materials and make something sturdy enough to bear the weight of the heavier monsters, especially with the villagers on the other side to sabotage their attempts. Armored, bulky enemies may be a pain, but here and now it was making it harder for them to access the other side, at least. Warriors re-counted, set the scene in stone in his mind, and with a gesture he and Hyrule were climbing carefully down and slipping back to the road. 

 

“Did you see the trees? They were huge! How old do you think they had to be?”

 

Warriors thought of the trunks leading down into darkness, of the world that could exist down there, entirely new ecosystems split entirely from the light. Shuddering he wrinkled his nose, hating how small they made him feel. “I have no idea, but I’m more than happy not to have them in my world. They’re too big, it’s just- it’s ridiculous!”

 

Hyrule’s delight was completely unphased by his horror, though, and he continued quietly chirping exultations of the giant forest as they made their way back, mood dampening as the somber, agitated atmosphere in the clearing hit once more. Sky’s sword was out, the knight frowning fiercely into the night as the Red and Blue squabbled with Green and Shadow, Time crouched beside Legend and Vio, speaking quietly to the scowling Veteran. Epona was also there again, with no sign of her earlier passengers, looking no worse for the wear as she snuffled at Vio’s hair. They all looked up at the returning pair, and he ignored Blue’s huffed, “Finally,” with undeserved grace as they gathered around. 

 

“I don’t think we should engage, tonight,” he said, and was immediately answered with totally unwarranted outcries of irritation and denial and confusion as if they hadn’t all heard him say as much before he’d gone off with Hyrule- it seems they’d worked themselves up while waiting. And maybe he’d been a bit abrupt, he could admit, but there was no point waffling around the issue when impatience was already thrumming in the air.

 

“You’re sure?” Green asked, frowning in the direction of the broken bridge. “The village, though, the risk-”

 

“The bridge is down, and the monsters are making slow progress in rebuilding it. We don’t have to worry about them going around the crevasse,” he said, shivering as he remembered the yawning abyss where the ground disappeared into the forest depths. “Turns out, Ordon’s on more of an island than anything; the land drops off completely into a giant forest of sorts… it’s a bit hard to describe. But without that bridge, they’re not getting to the village, which means we have time.”

 

He straightened his back, settling unconsciously into military rest. “Hyrule’s count was accurate. There were twenty three enemies: six stalchildren, two stalhounds, four dynalfos, eight helmasaurs and three dodongos,” he listed, noting which of them looked confused so he knew which to cover in more detail later. “Those are poor odds for us, especially on an open field with their rear flank covered by the drop off and only a tunnel leading in. The stals are strongest at night, and the others all heavily armored, fire based enemies of higher rank.”

 

“We are down Twilight, Wind and Legend, even if the Colors make up for the numbers alone. Most of these looked native to his world, making his absence all the worse for us so far as knowledge of how best to beat them goes, and Legend cannot supplement any item that may be necessary to fight them, short of magic as he currently is.” The Vet grimaced and looked away, but didn’t refute the fact. Hyrule’s fidgeting worsened, his gaze darting between Sky and Wars and Time uneasily. 

 

He continued, his voice steady and unwavering as he delivered the facts as they were, that they may all agree on the next steps. “The danger isn’t imminent to Ordon Village. Half these monsters will either vanish once dawn breaks or be severely weakened by the daylight. If we leave someone to keep watch with Epona, there should be enough time to get warning back to the spring should they make any progress, especially with the villagers on guard- though again,” he stressed, “I don’t see how they’d manage to build a bridge sturdy enough to hold those dodongos in that time..” 

 

And then he was at the strongest reason to retreat until morning, and the hardest to voice. Jaw clenched, all his training couldn’t stop his gaze from shying to the ground, even if his voice remained smooth and polished still. “If Wild dies while we are fighting, we’ll be hard pressed to get clear and back to the spring unpursued before succumbing to the aftershock. Considering how vulnerable it left every one of us, if there’s any way to avoid being caught in combat if it were to happen we have to take it .” 

 

“But- he didn’t die. Twilight has to have him at the spring by now if Epona’s here, which means there’s no danger of that,” Green said, voice uneasy but steady even despite the shaken look to his eyes. 

 

Warriors looked at Time, whose concern -subtle, but easy to find in the tight corners of his eyes and careful stillness, the downwards cant of his chin facing ever so slightly away from the others- hadn’t diminished at all, yet. Time, who had always had the best sense of when one of the heroes were in mortal danger, regardless of distance. The older hylian grimaced ever so slightly, but obliged his silent request. 

 

“He is not dying,” Time iterated, steady confidence bolstering the statement, “but something is still wrong- the spring may have saved him, but he’s far from well. I agree though- it would be far wiser to return in the day, with Twilight’s advice on hand and the infirmed safe at the spring.” And there his cautious gaze darted back to Legend and Vio, the Color too sensible and ill to be offended and the Veteran riled but accepting of his fate on the sidelines no matter when they faced the monsters. 

 

Not everyone agreed, though. 

 

“That’s ridiculous!” Blue snarled, eyes glinting. “We’re right here, now! Why wait and let the problem fester when we could just do it tonight? The stals might not disappear, Wild’s not going to die, and I’ve dealt with godsdamned dodongos before!”

 

Vio shifted frowning, but held his silence, Shadow crouching beside him and looking surprisingly neutral as his face moved back and forth tracking speakers. 

 

Red seemed unhappy with the plan too, frowning fiercely. “I’d rather finish it and be done, otherwise this whole thing feels like a waste of time,” he said, frustration growing with every word as he gesticulated sharply  Sky said nothing, but his body language screamed his agreement, his expression having darkened gradually the longer they were left on tenterhooks about Wild’s fate. He was all but glaring now, and had been since Time admitted the spring had helped, but not by much. 

 

Warriors breathed out slowly through his nose, keeping his face still and stern as he listened. He understood where they were coming from, wanted it to just be done as much as they did, but- It was needlessly reckless, choosing a fight when they didn’t have every advantage on their side. 

 

Legend tossed his hair, voice as quiet as the rest of theirs but commanding all the same. “It’s never a waste of time to gather information and avoid running into a mess completely blind,” he chastised Green, eyes flinty. Then he turned to the Captain, his scowl softening into an unhappy but thoughtful frown. “That said- we are here now. Wars, are you sure we have to wait?”

 

Warriors narrowed his eyes at them all, Time giving him a half-lidded look, lips curled in a humorless smile. He’d already thrown his two cents in, and for all that they joked about him being the leader they were still all headstrong heroes with opinions they didn’t always so easily give up. Besides, for this at least, they were all looking towards him, not Time. 

 

The Sprite didn’t seem nearly upset enough about being usurped from command, Warriors thought sourly. They weren’t even truly disagreeing with him- all of the heroes were fed up and at the end of their rope, and none relished in keeping another problem around to worry about instead of nipping it in the bud here and now. 

 

But it was his job to convince the Chain to take the logistically advantageous route, not the emotionally desirable one. They weren’t stupid, they knew he was right- they just didn’t care, stressed and overtired as they were. All the more reason to put off the fight until they’ve rested, but, well, it didn’t change the way they felt, now did it?  

 

“Enough, you guys,” Shadow interjected, standing between the agitated Colors, a hand clamped on each of their shoulders. Blue rolled his eyes and dropped his head back to glare at the sky, but Red jolted guiltily, glancing away from Warriors. “The Captain’s only trying to pick the safest forward so no more of you end up hurt or sick, not - like you guys are acting he is- wasting everyone’s time needlessly. He already told you why waiting’s better, and he’s right .”

 

He gave both of Four’s parts a shake, lips twisting in a humorless smile as he turned his face towards Warriors, crimson eyes bright even in the dark. “And you’re wrong, about the numbers. I don’t know if you lot have mentioned this yet,” he said aside to Blue, expression sharpening, “Or if you’ve simply forgotten, but you’re not, in fact, four Links worth of power and skill.”

 

Wait, what?

 

Warriors head whipped to the troublesome pair, eyes narrowing as they both avoided his stare, Blue baleful and Red chagrined. Green was grimacing as well as he rubbed the back of his head, and Vio frowned, the sideways slant of his eyes apologetic. 

 

“It… hadn’t come up yet,” Green defended weakly. 

 

“It was certainly going to be relevant if we went to go fight dodongos and helmasaurs,” Vio corrected dryly, looking more alert than he’d been since Four Split. He turned to Warriors, the moonlight catching at his eyes, a pinker, darker purple than Legend’s gold edged violet. 

 

“Four’s power is split among us, not multiplied,” he admitted, a wariness in his shoulders as he reluctantly revealed his counterparts’ weakness to them. “Each of us is weaker than him, a diminished copy in all but the particular skills or traits we embody. Like this we’re specialists, not generalists, and much worse outside our narrowed skill set than Four.”

 

We’re not helpless, Vio, geez!” Green rushed to interject, fingers flicking nervously. “We went on our adventures individually and everything, we’re still fine, just- I mean, maybe our stamina is worse, magic a little weaker, strength a little off-”

 

“Potions don’t work as well on us,” Vio said flatly to Warriors, which at least explained why he’d turned one down earlier and still looked pretty awful. And oh gods, but that was- he’d almost sent them into fight without realizing, would have assigned support not knowing what they needed, oh Hylia it could have been so bad why do they do this to him.

 

Augh, why can the others not just share all their secrets so he can plan around them and keep them all alive, he knows it’s a lot to ask but is it really , compared to this ?

 

“Okay,” he said with a calm he most definitely did not feel, panic winning out over the irritation. His wide eyes probably gave him away though, as did his spread fingered hands, held stiffly in a ‘ wait a moment ’ stance. “We are definitely not going to be tackling a great lot of powerful, possibly infected monsters tonight, when half of them are at the peak of their power, please,” he begged. Time patted his shoulder, face sympathetic. 

 

It was enough to tip the scales, thankfully.

 

“Seconded,” Vio said roughly, looking utterly miserable as he raised a hand, face wan. 

 

Shadow slunk back to Vio’s side, resting a hand on his hair, earning a scrunched face and half-hearted swat. “And no one else is a reckless fool, here, so that’s what’s happening,” he chirped with fake cheer, clapping his hands softly. “In the meantime, I volunteer to stay back and keep an eye on them like you suggested, Captain.” This was said in a cute tone, the dark-haired hero sending him a snaggle-toothed grin. 

 

And honestly, that was the ideal scenario, Shadow likely feeling the least stress over Wild’s tenuous condition and the happiest to wait on hearing further news. Warriors just… hadn’t expected Shadow to offer, and- “Are you up to the task? You’ve been keeping to the shadows this whole time, even when Vio could have used your help.” And the instant he said it Wars knew he’d maybe phrased that poorly - Goddess be good, he was so tired he wasn’t thinking his words out at all, and it showed - but it was true ; those two were clearly close, and for all that Shadow had hovered when Vio panned out to suffer the worst effects of the portal, he’d not actively helped, for all the careful touches.

 

Not that tangibility was necessary to simply keep an eye on the monster pack, nor was Warriors any kind of expert on the shadow world at all, but he did know it took effort at least to keep an open ‘window’. Shadow had only recently been brought back to… what, life? Existence? And Four’s and the Colors’ mothering only proved that he was certainly not at full strength. 

 

Shadow bristled -literally, his hair floating up and out like a ruffled bird- and the effect was only heightened as he partially faded back into darkness, the pooled shadows spiking outward as clear crimson eyes glared at him for calling the dark hero out. 

 

“He has a point, Shadow,” Red pointed out, sidling up next to the vaguely hylian-shaped blob and crouching beside Vio, seeming worried anew as the other Color only sent him a withering look, and it was only then Warriors realized he’d not moved at all from where he’d been settled on the ground, just continuing to sit hunched over his knees looking ill and out of it. “Vio was all over you back in Kakariko when you first appeared looking like crap, and somehow I don’t think he’s the more affectionate of you two at all. We’ve got his back, but are you good to stick around with a bunch of monsters?”

 

“I am not only good ,” Shadow said crisply, nothing more now than a baleful set of glowing eyes and single fang in a pool of inky darkness. “I’m the best for this. With his permission I can jump to Four’s shadow instantly to let you know if anything happens. You’d have to merge together, though; you being split does weird fuckin’ things to my sense of you.”

 

“Oh, the horror,” Vio said from where he’d curled into Red’s side, eyes closed and lips pursed tightly. 

 

“Alright, good, great, it’s settled then?” Legend said briskly, wobbling to his feet and brushing the dust from his boots and tunic. “I don’t even care anymore, so long as we get to doing something, ye gods .”

 

“So we’re going to the Spring and coming back here in another few hours?” Blue snipped, rolling his eyes even as he obligingly walked over to join Green, Vio, and Red, drawing his sword. 

 

“Yes,” Warriors snapped, irate. “We’re regrouping with the rest of our forces for tactical review and launching a more advantageous campaign tomorrow.”

 

Blue made a noise deep in his throat, and it was only when Legend echoed it that Warriors recognized it as a begrudging laugh. Do not say anything , he thought hard, gritting his teeth. It’ll only give them more ammunition , as if the other heroes had ever needed his help to harass him.

 

“Fine,” the little hero groused, and tapped his blade against the other Colors’ without further ado. There was a flash of light, and then Four was there, standing as three of his parts had been, though his hands were braced on his knees. 

 

He made a face, touching fingers to his temple. “Oh, ugh. Sorry Wars, Blue can be nasty once his temper’s tripped.” 

 

Hyrule’s face did something funny as he nudged Legend towards Epona. “Got a bit of a snipped fuse?” He said lightly, as if they weren’t all on edge and bitier than usual. 

 

Four smiled weakly back, sighing when Legend mockingly patted the saddle behind him but letting Time help him up onto Epona’s back, though he looked mostly fine at least- apparently his initial wince had been from rejoining, not from any lingering portal sickness. They were on the road again with no further fuss, Sky uncharacteristically leading the pack at a brisk pace, seeming utterly intent on speed walking the whole way.

 

The Skyloftian had been worryingly quiet, hovering over Vio and Legend but nowhere near his usual mothering warmth. Wild’s death and continued danger was taking its toll, and Sky had spent the most time around him, seeing him injured and sick and getting to know him before he was too far gone to act himself. He knew Wild best of all of them, was viciously protective at the best of times, and was nowhere near him now when Wild could be…

 

Sometimes he forgot that Sky didn’t have much sensitivity to the soulbond either- he was better off than Twi or Warriors was, but this far away he couldn’t be picking anything up. He couldn’t have had as much of a warning of Wild’s death as Time had, or Legend or Hyrule. 

 

In light of that, he was just lucky that Sky hadn’t snapped completely, except- 

 

That was unfair. Sky was fair, would never turn anger on someone who didn’t deserve it, which- well. It was likely the reason he’d been so quiet, simmering with rage they all knew wasn’t meant for any of them, really. So instead he stalked at the forefront, sword out, all but daring a monster to try to hinder their passage. 

 

Time had wisely stopped leading Epona, leaving Legend what autonomy he still had while recovering from obliterating his magic reserves. They were all keeping a close eye on him, wary with Wild on the brink of death from a similar issue. He’d not pushed himself so desperately far as Wild had, but still- that he was suffering the same, that they’d seen what could happen at its worst…

 

No, Legend wouldn’t be using his magic again until he was fully recovered, and Warriors knew he wasn’t going to be the only one enforcing that. 

 

It didn’t take as long as Warriors feared to get to the spring, and he might even have had to double back to find it if he’d been on his own, the hum of magic was so discrete- it seemed more a sound than anything else, a hum so low it was almost on the edge of what could be heard. As it was, it was easy to track how close they were getting as more and more of the group perked up. 

 

“Is it good?” He asked Time, noting the distracted frown on the older hylian’s lips and the way the pace had steadily quickened as more of them got within range to get a sense of Wild’s status. 

 

“It could be worse,” was the foreboding answer, and Sky sent them a wild-eyed look from his place at the front, brows furrowed in worry. 

 

Twilight hadn’t been lying when he said it was just off the road; it was hidden by virtue of magic, not physical barriers, though the trees and plant life grew lushly around its edges. There was no song in the air and humming at the edge of his thoughts like at fairy fountains, but it glowed similarly with natural magic, warm golden light that played along the ripples of the moving water. It was set in tiers, the susurration of the little waterfalls adding their own note to the quiet, serene backdrop of forest nightlife. There was no sign of the spring spirit, but there, in the shallows, surrounded by a ring of light, was the remaining trio of the Chain, curled together in the water. 

 

And just like that, Warriors finally sensed them, the bond all but humming in content within him as all nine once more came together, reunited at last. It was painful- joy and fear and worry and gladness all twisting about, but oh, he’d choose it over solitude in his own mind any day. 

 

Sky let out a low sound as he plunged into the spring, Hyrule right on his heels. Time was gone from Warriors’ side in a flash as well; it was too easy to forget how damned fast the Old Man could move when he deemed it necessary. The Captain, at least, managed to scramble to Epona in time to snag Four as he leapt off her haphazardly, depositing his flailing, hissing form safely into the water -and okay, maybe he tossed him a little but gods, he thinks Four might have left a bruise where his hand accidentally glanced off his cheek. 

 

He was blinking water out of his eye - thanks Four, for expediting the inevitable soaking - when he heard Legend call out, “Trust fall,” from behind him, barely turning around in time to get an armful of pink-haired hylian as he slid out of the saddle, shamelessly abusing Wars’ instinctive concern to break his fall into the water before clambering over him to wade to the cluster of heroes around Wild. Warriors was left sputtering and sprawled, all thoughts of giving Legend a taste of his own medicine wiped clear as he caught sight of the Champion. 

 

Wild looked terrible, still, despite resting in healing waters for at least a half hour by now- far longer than fairy fountains took to fully recover their visitors. That wasn’t was this was, though, and Warriors didn’t know the differences between a spring and a fountain, but either it was enough to leave Wild suffering still or he’d been so, so much worse off than they’d feared. 

 

Why not both?

 

Wind’s relief at seeing them was palpable, though Twilight’s was dampened by the very easy conclusion that they’d done no fighting at all. 

 

“Ordon?” He asked anxiously of Time, eyes darting to Hyrule as the Traveller rested a hand on Wild’s chest, Sky slipping into the Rancher’s side to run a hand through Wild’s drenched hair. 

 

Something in Time’s shoulders relaxed at the sight of them all safe in the spring, alive if not wholly well. “The bridge is out, and the monsters aren’t making it across anytime soon. Over twenty of them were there, half of them stals. Between that and them looking to be your monsters, we thought it best to face them in the day, since there was no imminent danger. Shadow is watching though, and he can jump to Four immediately if the situation changes for the worse.” He glanced warmly at Warriors before smiling paternally at Twilight, gaze soft and sad. “Your family is safe, Pup, I promise.” 

 

Hazel eyes stared hopefully up at Time, then turned to bore intently into Warriors, before trust finally won over cynicism. For as much as Twilight tended towards being a pessimist -which had been a surprising discovery, considering his warm and generally affectionate nature- he also had an inordinate amount of trust in those he considered close, making for quite the polarized world view; those he trusted to a fault, and those he distrusted… also to a fault. 

 

Luckily, both he and Time and all the rest of their soulmates fell neatly into the ‘trust with his life’ category, and more importantly, the ‘trust with his families’ life’ category, too, apparently. Warriors felt something warm spark in his stomach, even as he simultaneously panicked and ran over the monster situation once more, searching for anything he may have missed that could ruin everything, wreck Ordon, or kill the people Twilight loved so dearly-

 

But Shadow was watching, he consoled himself. And he may look unnervingly like a Dark, but Four was adamant that he was trustworthy, and Sky and Hyrule had both supported that though he was gifted in dark magic, there was no Malice within him, despite having raised at the Blood Moon. 

 

He’d made the best decision once all factors accounted for, and he could only trust that the chips would fall in his favor, that fate wouldn’t jab a stick into the turning wheel of his careful considerations. So he smiled reassuringly at Twilight, injecting confidence into his posture until he saw the Rancher finally relax a little, losing some of the desperate edge to his wide-eyed gaze as he steadied himself under their questioning glances. 

 

They all hovered over Wild as Twilight filled them in on Faron’s warnings, the relief that had hit so hard and fast fading quickly as the Rancher spoke. 

 

Barely stable. Condition: delicate. Recovery would be slow.

 

Slow, and the risk of complications was not zero. Wind pointed out that Wild surviving was up to luck, still, according to the Spring’s spirit, and just like that the tension was back, knotting at each of their shoulders and ricocheting sickly between the soulbonds like jangled chords. Hyrule especially seemed distraught, clinging to optimism by the barest margin. “But he has a chance now,” the Traveller whispered tearfully, mouth firming. “Between whatever trick he pulled and this, he’s got a chance-”

 

Hyrule sobbed once before visibly wrangling his emotions down, tears streaking down his stubborn expression as he glowed with healing magic, trying his best to turn the tides in Wild’s favor despite the ineffectiveness of his magic to do anything but provide little, short-lived relief. No one had the heart to stop him, to save his magic; hell, they all wished they could do even that little bit to help.

 

Sky murmured unhappily, brushing a hand over Wild’s forehead and frowning deeply as he undid his sailcloth one-handed ( “He’s still so cold- you said he has to stay in the water?” ). He handed it to Hyrule as the Traveller pulled back, shoulders fallen as Wild continued to draw weak, strained breaths, the fairy magic having slipped uselessly over his body. Rule tucked the cloth in as best he could in the water, tucking himself in at Wild’s side. His brows were pursed in thought, and he looked over at Legend as if to say something before drawing up short at the distant, glassy eyed gaze the Vet was wearing as he watched them try to help Wild alongside Wars and Time and Four. 

 

Legend was standing in the waters too, and now that they were no longer in the middle of a rescue mission he seemed to finally be crashing and making no attempt to stop or hide it. He had dark bags under his eyes, his hair lank and grimy from his time on the island and the rush after returning. The fine tremor had come back full force, creating little ripples in the water around him, his back hunched and drifting slightly to the side as he gazed at Wild with pure exhaustion. 

 

“Legend?” Hyrule called, sweet voice shaking, his gaze darting between Wild and his predecessor, because Wild wasn’t the only one faring poorly by way of magic, and Legend hadn’t exactly been taking it terribly easy in the meantime either. 

 

The Vet hummed vaguely, stirring slightly and blinking at Hyrule, who looked like he was about to have an aneurism deciding which of his companions to actively worry over. “We got him,” Warriors said quickly, pushing his way through the water to stand beside Legend, the way the other sighed and leaned heavily against his shoulder concerning, to say the least. Even more so when evidence of what could happen if he worsened or used more magic was right there, gasping and shaking against Twi, Sky and Wind and freshly back from the dead solely by virtue of some mysterious miracle, and a healing Spring besides. 

 

Yeah, this whole mess had taken its toll on all of them. 

 

But Legend was far more aware of his limits than Wild, and for all that he would just as happily push past them for the Chain, there was no longer cause for that. Not at all, not one eentsy, tiny bit until both of the magic-drained heroes were back on their feet. 

 

Sure, there was a battle looming over them in a few hours, but Warriors would be damned before he let Wild or Legend leave this fountain, not only to keep them clear of combat but to help them recover the magic they so desperately needed. He lowered the Vet down, the other’s legs so shaky it was little more than a controlled collapse, Legend groaning weakly as the water settled at his waist, features strained. 

 

“He looks awful,” Four worried, grey eyes huge and nearly watering as he huddled in the water, arms curled around his legs as if cold. It wasn’t clear who he was talking about, and didn’t matter- “They both do. We just wait, then?”

 

“Exactly so,” Time said gently, the only one left standing, the soft shine of the water illuminating his face from below, the shadows showing he was just as tired as Warriors felt, as they all did. The Old Man shook himself, then, and turned towards shore. “I’m going to set up camp- we’ll take shifts watching over Wild, but we should get what rest we can tonight,”  he paused, clearly intending to continue, only for a flurry of voices to immediately drown him out.

 

“Dibs on first-”

 

“A little longer”

 

“I’m not going anywhere yet!”

 

“-just got here, you can switch-”

 

“-the healer, if anything goes wrong I should be there!”

 

Time whistled a bright note over the instant flashfire of volunteerism, cutting across the clamor in a moment. “ As I was saying ,” he said peevishly, before blinking and staring hard at Legend suddenly. “Legend, are you-?”

 

“I’d rather sleep in a dry bedroll, please.” Legend said weakly, nose wrinkling. “It ah, takes magic to not transform in water-” 

 

And just like that Warriors had him in his arms, standing clear of the spring with white-rimmed eyes, “Goddess above, Legend, I’m so sorry, why didn’t you say anything -!”

 

Warriors felt the shorter hero relax into him with a shiver as he walked them out of the water, and held him closer, mentally noting to make sure Legend was near to the fire. The Vet huffed a faint laugh, though he’d relaxed as water stopped streaming down his legs, at least. “I wanted to be close to Wild too- thought I could suck it up for a little longer. I could just change, but I’d have to stay like that for a while to gain back the magic to shift to legs again, and I didn’t… well. Let’s just say I don’t want to be trapped with a tail for reasons you lot don’t need to know, alright?” His voice was low, but easily heard across the water, and just like that Time stepped in to turn the conversation away from Legend’s admission of vulnerability before anyone gave into the temptation to say something about said mermaid tail.

 

The Old Man braced his hands on his hips, head cocked sternly. “Sky, Wind- you can stay with him for the first shift. Swap out with me and the Captain at four, alright?” A hiss from Hyrule and Twilight alike, both of them wrapping arms more tightly around Wild. “Pup, we need you to help analyze what’s waiting at the bridge for us, so we know how long we can afford to wait and how best to approach them in the morning. Hyrule, you had eyes on them as well, plus I want you to keep watch over Legend since he won’t be in the spring. If anything happens with Wild, you’ll know -we all will, we’ll be just on the shore.” Time gestured towards the stretch of smooth pebbled beach Warriors was just stepping onto; the Chain had only been settled just past the shallows, after all. 

 

Hyrule and Twilight were far from pleased, but then again no one was exactly happy at the moment, not with Wild still in limbo and another fight on the horizon pulling them from his side. Warriors doubted anyone was going to be getting much rest tonight, even despite the sleepless nights piled up behind all of them by now. Even Time’s help only went so far as each hero was willing to accept, and they could all be stubborn idiots when it came to each other; it might not do any good to stay awake, but neither did it feel right to sleep when Wild was suffering so nearby.

 

The lucky chosen two stayed in the water while Wars set up camp and Time gathered firewood, and judging by the heightened cooing and happiness Wild woke up again for at least a little while. Four looked longingly towards the group, but dutifully continued getting Legend settled, trying to convince the Vet into getting into dry clothes and having trouble getting past the barrier of the pink haired hero having already flopped to the ground and all but passed out on the stony beach. 

 

That at least lured the Traveller from the water to fuss over Legend instead, Four’s attempts to rouse Legend enough for him not to sleep soaking wet drawing Hyrule at a run to make sure Legend was warm and dry for the night. Together they managed to bully the drowsy, grumpily compliant hero into a dry undertunic, both of them half stripping themselves to avoid their own clothes dampening his as he leaned against them. It took longer than it should have considering the Vet was frustratingly little help, and in the end Warriors was the one to hoist the limp, sleepily murmuring hero over to his bedroll by the fire only just being set up by Time, Hyrule’s right beside it along with some extra blankets.

 

As those two were squared away, Twilight finally came begrudgingly from the water once Warriors was settling down, watching Time struggle -as usual- a little too long with the flint before the flame caught. Twi settled down facing the water, and it was clear it was only his warring concern for Ordon letting him leave Wild’s side, his amber gaze flicking anxiously towards the group in the water frequently. It didn’t take terribly long to share what he and Hyrule had seen, especially not since Twilight did indeed recognize them easily enough from their descriptions. 

 

“I’ve never seen stalhounds or staltroops survive the day outside of dungeons, so that at least puts the numbers more in our favor,” Twilight said with half-hearted optimism. 

 

Time seemed skeptical, though. “Maybe so, but we’ll have to check for the physical remains underground. Usually they’re nothing more than a manifestation of a restless spirit near where the living being died a violent death, but they also don’t tend to travel far from the remains. Normally they would respawn back by their bodies again, but we should check either way to ensure they won’t pop up again the next night at the bridge.”

 

“I should be able to feel them if they’re underground,” Hyrule offered, “But we can also have Shadow wait until night falls again, to be certain. The bridge’ll be out for a while anyways, so it shouldn't be anymore dangerous to play it safe and double check. Twi, what about those lizard things? Standing on their legs? Er, not the fire breathing ones, I don’t think, but the stabby ones?”

 

“Yeah, those are dynalfos, armored like that. Fast, nimble, tougher than lizalfos. Not terribly sturdy, but landing a hit can be tricky when they hop around. They haven’t changed much from the Old Man’s time, I don’t think. Even when they show up in pairs, they tend to take turns engaging, so unless that’s changed with Black Blood even four shouldn’t be so bad with all of us.”

 

“The helmasaurs aren’t too bad, though I’ve never faced a swarm like that. A clawshot’ll take it’s armor off, and then it’s fairly easy pickings, so as long as there’s space and line of sight for that it shouldn't be so bad. They’re not that fast moving, thought they do ah, skitter a little bit. They’re pretty dense; they’ll knock you down by ramming into you and pin you- they’ve very sharp teeth under that shell, I’ve gotten some nasty puncture wounds from a run in or two-”

 

“Not Four or Wind, then. No offense, Smithy, but I don’t know if you two together outweigh one enough to even pull off that armored shell,” Warriors said, but Four at least, didn’t seem to take it the wrong way. 

 

“I’ve got them in my world too, but nowhere near as large as these sound. Don’t worry, Captain, my chance for glory will come yet. I’ve no issue with you leaving the small fry to the others.” Four was a little sassier than usual as he drifted off, eyes half lidded as he lay curled in his bedroll listening in, words slightly less distinct that his usual crisp pronunciation. 

 

Warriors smiled, resting a hand on the Smithy’s ankle through the blankets. “I’m going to keep that one in mind for when I break it to Wind,” he said dryly, and watched as Four only gave a faint smile, too tired to even muster a laugh as his eyes dipped close and stayed that way. 

 

Time continued on, voice soft and even so as not to disturb Legend, making no attempt to help Four stay awake either. “It’s the dodongos I’m most worried about, to be honest. Those are mine, and they aren’t weak enemies. With so many of us in one place and no cover on our side, their flame attacks could get ugly fast, especially with three of them so close together. The flames are wide range and long lasting, and while you can get a bomb in them before they fire off, managing all three at once will take coordination, if one hit even takes them out.”

 

“That’s just fantastic, isn’t it?” Warriors couldn’t help but groan quietly, running his hands over his face and through his hair, ruffling it roughly before habitually combing it back into place as he considered their options. To the side, Hyrule’s head bobbed before jerking up again, his body listing until it bopped against Twi’s shoulder; the Rancher reached around and drew the younger hero near without looking away from Wars. “Okay, so bombs. Preferably bomb arrows, to keep us as far out of range as possible. Going in, we’ll try to lead the quicker enemies out first- that’ll be the dynalfos and the stals, if they’re still present. We want to wipe those out quickly, before the slower moving monsters get into range to attack us.”

 

“They’ll have the ravine at their back- the dodongos are too heavy to budge, but the helmasaurs are smaller, at least, maybe those?” Time suggested, but Twilight shook his head, inadvertently waking Hyrule up again from where his head had slowly drooped down once more. The Traveller blinked heavily shifting to sit more upright as he tried to focus on the conversation, fighting to stay awake so hard it was cute. 

 

Twilight’s face was regretful, but certain. “Maybe one or two we could manage, but they’re too solid to do anything but shove over the edge physically. They don’t go fast enough to lure over, and with that many monsters it’ll be too chaotic to risk one of us getting pushed instead.”

 

“Right,” Warriors said, noting that Four had fallen asleep at last and putting a soothing lilt in his voice accordingly, watching Hyrule’s eyes flutter. “Dynalfos first, then split into two roles; three to try to set bomb arrows into the dodongos, the rest to disarm the helmasaurs and shield the archers from them charging.”

 

Time hummed thoughtfully, clearly already poking holes in the rough-shod plan- and Warriors knew they were there, but they had to start somewhere . “The dodongos don’t just walk around with their mouths open; it’s only right before they spit fire that they’re exposed. Better to use straight bombs for better mobility, and depend more heavily on fire and heat resistance. Legend’s probably got a few rings he’s willing to dispense, and I know Sky’s earrings have a charm on them too.”

 

And so it went, back and forth, ironing out the framework of a plan. The key, truly, wasn’t to make it tight knit, but to leave flexibility for unseen complications whilst trying to head off as many issues as possible; they couldn’t cover everything,  but eventually they had something workable. Warriors felt the familiar rush of relief at having a path forward, could see the same in Time and Twilight, the Rancher having relaxed a great deal as the first shift passed by without any mishaps on Wild’s part whilst they talked. Hyrule had long passed out, eased from Twilight’s shoulder down to his own bedroll with little more than a slight murmur before latching onto Legend, who was sleeping so deeply he didn’t even twitch as he was jostled. 

 

Warriors was so, so jealous of them, but there was no point in him falling asleep now, when he was due to take over watching Wild in only an hour or so. Instead, with tomorrow set, him and Time and Twilight chatted for awhile about what each of them had gotten up to in the Champion’s world, him first and then Time and okay , Twilight trying to talk his way around managing to loop the entire castle’s island in only a day -and in Wild’s world that was such a ridiculous claim it was laughable - without lying was darkly amusing. He clearly hadn’t had a horse, and refused to admit it was because his wolf form was faster than the hylian sprint he’d had to have kept up to manage it, gamely continuing to struggle to cover the full few days in Wild’s world. 

 

And it sounded nice enough- he hadn’t had nearly as hard a time as Warriors had, at least, and the Captain was so very glad for the fact, even if Twilight looked guilty for not having suffered as much as him. Retrospectively he wished Twilight had gone first so he could have downplayed the mess he’d gotten caught up in, but he supposed the truth of it would have gotten out eventually anyways. Even so, it was easy to see Twilight was beating himself up for being lost running across the boonies of Hyrule while everyone else was struggling.  

 

So Warriors ran lightly over the others’ misadventures, passing over the more gruesome details and waving off Twilight's haunted probing questions with “They’ll fill you in completely later, don’t worry!” The Rancher wasn’t stupid; he’d seen how ragged the group was, even after time spent in Kakariko, though the tightness around his eyes loosened some when Warriors explained they’d gotten caught in a flash flood. 

 

Time especially seemed dismayed. “ How? How did you not see it coming? The rain, the landscape, Warriors, you can tell -”

 

“Don’t blame me!” Wars yelped quietly, jumping as Twilight also turned disappointed eyes his way, reflecting the firelight back for a moment like a wolf’s. “I grew up in the city! Blame- well, so did Four, and Legend, in towns, and Wind and Sky on their islands- look, in hindsight it was obvious, but at the time we were a little distracted by the storm and the rush!” He barely managed to avoid mentioning Hyrule’s upbringing, very much out in the wild but in a world where there was nowhere near such excess of rain as to ever flash flood, catching himself at the last moment. Rule was asleep, but it never hurt to be careful, especially knowing it was a sore spot for the Traveller, no matter how he tried to hide it when someone mentioned it. 

 

Time’s teasing smirk softened, then, staring serenely into the fire with exhausted relief. “Alright, alright, no need to defend yourself so ardently; we’ll just count ourselves lucky you made it out alright.” He turned to the sky, then, gauging the moon’s position before standing and stretching, bones popping loudly. Twilight frowned in faint upset at the sound as he always did, watching the older man move away with rapidly disappearing stiffness, a few steps in moving smoothly as ever once more.  

 

“You ready, Captain?” Time asked, directing his voice out towards the spring, and there was a small, unhappy flurry of motion as Sky and Wind prepared to have their positions cuddling Wild stolen from them. Four and Hyrule at least, remained asleep and unable to argue for their turn, which only marked how badly they needed the rest considering how easily roused the Traveler usually was. Then again, Legend didn’t make a habit of letting the Traveler sleep practically in the same bedroll as he was now, all but smushed to the older hero’s back, hugging him intently with his face buried in Legend’s shoulder, sandwiching his predecessor between him and the warmth of the fire. 

 

“Time, really, I can take the next watch-” Twilight tried, scrambling to his feet and whisper shouting the words uselessly as Time continued to move away with no sign of stopping. Warriors chuckled softly as he got up to follow after, sending the Ranchhand an apologetic smile and ‘what can you do?’ shrug as he too moved off. “Nice try, Pup, but you’re next most in need of rest,” Time said over his shoulder, Twilight’s ears perking to hear the lowered voice over the hush of moving water. “Warriors spent a night in the village, and I was in a stable. You, on the other hand, were running almost a full circle around the castle for the last few days. Take a few hours to be sharp tomorrow, it’ll help.” 

 

It was good to know he wasn’t the only one to notice that Twilight was faring worst of all of them, emotionally. None of them were doing well with the fact that they’d found a new hero and then immediately bore helpless witness to him slowly killing himself for their sakes, but the Rancher seemed to be coping poorly with it, drawing away and throwing himself headlong into trying to make up for whatever it was he felt so terribly guilty for- whether it was not being there to help the others, or simply for being fortunate enough not to be mortally imperiled like almost all of the rest of them. Wind wasn’t having the same problem, but Twilight had always been prone to darker moods, to withdrawn misery and unnerving self-reprobation, and Warriors didn’t know what to do to help when the shapeshifter seemed to want everyone to focus on Wild, or on Ordon, or Legend, or anyone but him, who was physically fine but emotionally tearing himself apart. 

 

He could see what Time was doing- trying to keep Twilight from shoving everything aside to focus only on Wild, trying to let him face these emotions and give him the distance for the others not involved in keeping watch over their ailing companion to help him relax a little, maybe vent some of the worst of the anxious guilt. 

 

Looking at him now, settling defeatedly back into his bedroll with empty eyes, Warriors somehow doubted Twilight would be doing anything but lashing himself for whatever shortcomings he thought he was guilty of these past few days. He was relieved Twilight hadn’t suffered the way he had, or Legend had, or any of the others, but- this wasn’t better, not really. 

Time, of course, was perfectly aware of this, though, and as Warriors waded into the water -still warm, more so than the night air, really- he was already speaking lowly to Sky as he crouched next to them, and the Captain only just made out “-maybe use someone to listen to him who’s in the same boat; it would help you both, I think, and Twilight’s already… well, he’s not doing so well, Sky.” 

 

And yup- if there was anything that was going to get Sky back to the fire, it was going to be him being the best person to help Twilight out. Time may not be good at having the emotional talks, but Warriors could respect his ability to orchestrate them with those who were good at it. Wind nodded too, sleepy eyed enough that he’d definitely been asleep a few minutes ago, for all that he tried valiantly to hide it. The Sailor seemed to take on the mission as well, though judging by the yawn splitting his face, he wasn’t going to stay awake long at all once he was warm and dry again. Wild shifted, eyebrows scrunching, seeming unsettled by their disturbance, but not enough to be drawn from his desperate rest. 

 

Sky saw Warriors watching, giving him and Time a sad smile. “He’s been restless for a while now. I don’t know if it’s nightmares or pain, but he hasn’t woken up but for a few minutes, and he wasn’t really coherent. I was waking him up whenever he seemed frightened, but it’s just as bad right away again when he falls back asleep, and he needs the rest... “ he trailed off uncertainly, but Time stepped in, agreeing. 

 

Warriors took that as his cue to get Wind going, then. “Up and at’em Sailor. I know you’re used to sleeping in the wet soggy damp of a half-drowned ship, but we’ve got somewhere warmer waiting for you.” Wind grumbled at him, but didn’t seem to think him worth the effort of coming up with a comeback, only half-heartedly kicking some water at him and cursing tiredly when he ended up stumbling, sleep clumsy still. 

 

“Nice try, there,” he soothed, patting Wind’s damp hair before easing the touch to between his shoulder blades, gently guiding the other forwards. “Make sure you change into fresh clothes, alright?” He remanded the little hero, waiting for the huffed agreement as he herded Wind to the beach, Time and Sky switching out supporting Wild upright in the water against the convenient rock perfect for leaning up against. Said convenient rock hadn’t been there initially, but was conveniently found at the edge of the fountain and moved to the prime position it now held, saving the back of whomever was in charge of keeping Wild from drowning for their few hour span of supervision. 

 

He’d only just handed Wind off to Twilight when there was a cry from the water, Warriors whirling around to find Wild thrashing in Time’s arms as Sky tried to help, attempting to calm him down as they both struggled to restrain him without injuring him or letting him drown himself. The flailing hylian let out a horrible scream, the fear and desperation in the breathless sound ringing through the clearing like a bell’s toll. The cry wavered off into a wretched, gasping moan, and as Warriors lunged back into the water Wild cried out once more, alternating between terrible shrieks and begging for them to l et him go, let him leave, not again, please, please please- !

 

Wild was inconsolable, too lost in his own mind to listen to them, Sky’s soothing words and Time’s steady assurances lost beneath his own pleading screaming, suffering at their hands even if they were only trying to help, afraid and desperate and hurting and seeing them as nothing but the cause of it all. 

 

But they couldn’t let him leave as he wished- not as weak as he was, not when he wanted nothing but to be out of the water keeping him alive. The two were struggling too much to keep Wild safely above the surface in his unhinged flailing to move them to shallower waters, and there was no way the Champion would have the strength to keep this up for much longer, not based on the gasps and breathiness of his screaming. 

 

But the greatest, easiest mistake to make is to underestimate someone, and Wild may have been half dead and nearly half Time’s weight at the moment, but there was something to be said for hero’s tenacity and adrenaline-fueled survival instinct, however misguided it may be. Even as Wars drew close -more as emotional standby than further physical restraint; they needed no further hands tangled in the mess of limbs there- Wild twisted , and Time went down as his leg buckled, loosening his grip instinctively on the smaller hero as he tried to keep the Champion’s head safely above water. 

 

The Old Man was rewarded for his care with Wild clambering over him, pushing him wholly below the surface as he scrambled over Time, who was unable to grab hold of him without submerging him as well, The Champion was left to scrabble free, escaping the older hylian’s arm reach just as Time managed to get his feet under him once more. Sky lunged to grasp Wild only to get a mouthful of blood spit into his face, jolting backwards with a cry as Wild shoved the wrong-footed sky knight as he surged past, all but crawling through the water as he headed towards shore, blind to their cries to stop. 

 

Warriors didn’t bother wasting the breath, moving to intercept Wild even as Time caught up to the tiring Champion and scooped him up, hauling the both of them back into the deeper water with a grim look on his face as Wild screamed and clutched at him frantically, one hand still reaching desperately towards the shore that could very well spell his death with how tenuous his condition was. Time dropped down into the water and the Captain was already at his side, Sky running interception on the rest of the Chain, keeping them out of the water before none of them had any dry clothes left. 

 

Right now it would do nothing but harm to have more people around, especially when none of them could do anything to help but try to keep Wild calm. He was still lost in his own mind, shaking and delirious, those bright turquoise eyes flitting blindly across Warriors and the spring’s shining surface. His breathing was fast and jagged and all too wet, either from inhaled water or the blood coursing down his chin, diluted to pink by the water beading Wild’s face.

 

“Link?” He tried, but there was no sign Wild heard him or saw him at all, hands scrabbling senselessly over Time’s clothes, then his own, then Warriors’ arms where they’d come up to bracket the Champion’s neck and jaw as his head bobbed heavily with his gasps, dipping farther until he lolled in the Captain’s gentle grasp completely, eyes going half lidded. He kept gasping, but as his eyelids fluttered he seemed to focus on Wars at last, something lost and confused finally breaking through the blind panic from before. 

 

He kept his expression open, and calm, despite the rapid worry he felt as he watched that stuporous gaze flit over his face, growing more doubtful and despairing even as Warriors tried to comfort him. “You’re alright, Link, we’ve got you. The water’s going to save you, you’re going to be fine. It’s only until you’re better, only until you’re not dying,” he said, trying to keep the sadness from his voice as he watched the words slip by unheeded past Wild, who looked nothing but thoroughly betrayed, tears coursing down his cheeks as he let out a broken keen, the sound defeated and wretched in its misery. “I swear it’s not what you think, Wild, we’d never hurt you. It’s only us, only Wars, and Time, and all the others,” he tried, but it was no use.

 

Wild was all but dead weight in their arms now, no longer struggling to escape the water that was all that was keeping alive, though it was little comfort when he looked so near to death once more, exhausted of what little vitality he’d regained and worse- seeming to have lost himself to despair. 

 

No. No, please , not when Faron had said he’d have to fight to survive, not when strength of will may yet be the only thing standing between him and oblivion. But it was no use- whatever he said, Wild was hearing something else altogether, his delirious mind twisting their actions and words, poisoning their attempts to help. 

 

Wild closed his eyes to Wars’ pleading assurances, his promises that this was to save him, wasted body jolting in a sob that left him choking on blood, the sharp edge of his cheekbone pressing harshly against Wars’ palm as Wild went completely lax in his grip, brows furrowed as he fought for breath through the blood, against a body nearly too drained to have energy to spare for breathing anymore. 

 

“Please,” came the damp whisper, indistinct as Wild gasped and coughed, eyes fluttering and rolling as he sobbed the words out. “Not again, let me die, please !”

 

Warriors heart stopped, and Time went still as stone, muscles locking around Wild as the Champion lost the air to keep speaking, to continue begging them to let him die. He blinked broken eyes up at Wars, let out a soft sound of utter despair, and passed out again at last, his breathing far worse than before. 

 

Why? Why? Wild hadn’t seemed so desperate when Warriors had met him, when he’d still been cognizant, only bound and determined to get both of them out alive. He’d been lacking this brittle edge of despair, and Wars wasn’t perfect but under that kind of stress he should have seen some sign of this, some hint that Wild hadn’t wanted to truly survive his self-appointed mission. 

 

But oh, he’d seen this before, seen battlefield injuries make ruins of strong men and women, seen agony and trials and loss turn steadfast wills to broken spirits. After the last few days Wild had, it was no great surprise that he was at his limit now. 

 

It didn’t matter. Whether Warriors had missed the signs, or whether it was a culmination of the horror and suffering of the past few days, Wild wanted to die . He wanted them to standby and watch, to do nothing to help, as he-

 

“Warriors,” Time said softly, his voice gently insistent. “It’s fine.” How was any of this fine? “He’s not well, we can’t take him at his word when he’s like this.” 

 

“He wants to die,” Warriors whispered, flinching and looking over his shoulder to make sure none of the others were close enough to have heard. But Sky and Hyrule had them all on the shore, still, gathered around the fire, even if Twilight was pacing and Hyrule was standing tense and jittery, eyes on a constant swivel to look their way, watching for any sign of things worsening. 

 

Only him and Time knew, then. It couldn’t stay that way, not if they wanted to be able to keep a proper eye out for any warning signs moving forward, but at least they’d be able to break it more gently than this, then Wild choking on his own blood and begging them to let him go, as if his death hadn’t been the single worst thing Warriors had ever experienced, hadn’t promised to leave the Chain crippled and diminished, forever scarred by his loss. 

 

The thought of enduring it again, of choosing it willingly, of bearing the responsibility for that agonizing absence, that bleeding split in his soul and those of all his other soulmates-

 

Warriors wouldn’t survive it. Not really, not the toll it would take on his mind, guilt and regret whittling away at him until he followed Wild. 

 

He’d helped men die, knew sometimes a merciful end was the only choice left. But Wars could not respect this choice. Not when Wild was choosing death over sitting in water for a few days , not when there was still hope enough that he could survive if only given the chance, if he could only endure the harmless treatment. Truly, what was it he’d been seeing instead of the calm, glowing waters around them, warm and soothing?

 

The Captain took that useless anger -and it was fear, he knew, but the anger was safer, somehow, more empowering- and quietened it, helping Wild recline more securely against Time. The older hylian didn’t try to speak to him again, but a comforting warmth bloomed within his mind nonetheless, soothing the worst of his panic laced agitation. 

 

Sky came back to them once it was clear Wild was out once more, and Wars let himself be weak just this once, leaving Time to tell him the truth of what had happened. 

 

--------------------------------------------------

 

Wild was out more deeply, for a while, too weak to fidget and fuss as he had with Sky and Wind, though his face was still lined with pain, a wet edge to every breath he fought for. He was ill a handful of times in the next few hours, not awakening even as he coughed up crimson, shaking and silent save for the wheezing, strained inhales. It was only a little before dawn that he opened his eyes again; far sooner than they’d expected, given the frightening heaviness of his unconsciousness since. 

 

Even then, it was only to vomit up blood again, more than it seemed he had to lose by now. Warriors tried to coax some water into him, eyes catching on the pale-fingered grip Time had on Wild as it was promptly thrown up, little more than a pinkish trail of scarcely a mouthful of water. Warriors exhaled a ragged, failed attempt of a steadying breath, all too aware that this was exactly what had preceded his first death, that he was slowly following the same downward spiral Twilight and Time had failed against before the portal, before the spring. 

 

It wasn’t enough - they were losing him all over again. 

 

He refused to meet Time’s eye, desperate for reassurance but terribly afraid of seeing the same realization reflected back. Frigid fear had his chest locked in ice, contained there -barely- by the steady warmth through the soulbond, the steadfast sense of it will be alright . He tried to push back the same and doubts he succeeded, wondering where Time drew comfort enough to share in a time like this.

 

More water, the barest handful of sips, Wild too weak to be anything but compliant, his fogged, half-lidded gaze empty of trepidation despite how he’d just been sick from this exact exercise. Empty of anything, really- hope, fear, recognition, despair. 

 

Just…empty. 

 

“Shit!” Time bit out, rising onto his knees as he firmed his grip on Wild, and Warriors snapped to attention, his gaze flitting over Wild to find out what was wrong, what was happening. He watched as those vacant eyes rolled back and Warriors’ heart sunk in recognition, confirmed as spasms rippled finely through Wild’s body.  

 

And then he was seizing, and Warriors was left to watch and wait, and wonder if they ever truly had a chance to save him at all. 

 

-------------------------------------------------

 

Wild came out the other end still breathing to everyone’s desperate relief, even if the total stillness that followed for hours was horrible in its own right. Time assured him that Wild was okay though, that he wasn’t dying, that his soul was still secured to their own, and Warriors couldn’t do anything but cling to those words and the faint hum where Wild’s mind rested against his. The Champion finally roused towards the end of their shift and managed to take a little more water and keep it down, and it was only that small victory that let Warriors move away as Sky and Four moved to take over.

 

“Wind’s sleeping on Twilight, and he let me switch since I was still up,” Sky explained. “Said he was doing more good for the Sailor than he would for Wild- I think after his last fit, he’s afraid of being helpless through another one, in case anything goes wrong.”

 

“He’s alright, though?” Time asked, leaning Wild against Wars as Sky shimmied into place, stretching his arms out to draw the sick hero into a hug against his chest, securing the blankets around them both; Wild’s temp was still way down, though the cuddling and inherent warmth of the water had at least helped keep it from true danger. 

 

“As good as any of us are,” Sky said with a tired smile, dark bags under his eyes doing nothing to tamp down on the kind beauty of the expression. 

 

Hyrule and Wind were still sound asleep, Twilight’s antsy energy having at last faded to tired tension, posture exhausted but far too alert to be near sleep as they approached. “How is he?” The Ranchhand asked, eyes amber in the firelight and bright with trepidation as he read their body language. Time didn’t shy from the truth, though he did gentle it; Twilight paled, gaze darting uneasily back to Wild and Sky and Four, sitting peacefully in the water. 

 

For now, at least. 

 

Day was just beginning to break overhead, the dark navy of the sky barely beginning to fade out around the stars. At this point, Warriors had given up on getting any sleep before camp roused in a few hours, still feeling jittery even this longer after Wild’s fit, but- 

 

Well, he underestimated how worn he was from days of worrying and his own injuries and trials on the spiral, just how soothing Twilight and Time’s soft murmurings would be, how badly in general Time wanted him to get any ounce of rest he could. 

 

He’d probably have napped anyway, but the familiar somnolent press gently muffling his thoughts and easing his mind down into sleep certainly pushed farther than his light surficial nap would have on its own. Even with Time’s unrequested assistance, he was roused several times as Wild woke and cried out, too weak to struggle as he had before but just as afraid, just as lost and blind to the truth of the situation he was in. 

 

Each time the Old Man was quick to assure him it wasn’t another seizure, and that Wild was fine, and he could go back to sleep, his sleep-hazed mind helpless to fight against the soft, alluring call of rest. He gladly slipped back under, only dimly registering a hand running soothingly through his hair. 

 

After the fifth time , though, he gently refused the lull of Time pushing him towards sleep, the morning hour late enough by now to merely be miserably early instead of abhorrently early. The camp was silent save for the crackling fire, the rousing birdsong, and the soft, useless words of Sky and Four as Wild sobbed and begged incoherently to be let out, that he’d rather die, that he was sorry, but not again, please -

 

Warriors closed his eyes and let himself ride through his emotions, let the grief and empathy flood through him, let it hurt enough to draw tears and ache deep in his chest, even after Wild went quiet again. Only when the sharp edge of it all had dulled did he tuck it away once more, running obsessively over the Faron Bridge battle that would be coming up once they had eaten and filled everyone in on their roles and the group’s approach, scrutinizing every detail they had and turning it over for anything better, anything safer or smarter. 

 

Hyrule and Wind woke far earlier than usual - sharp outcries echoed across the water, both of them jolting upright, fear across their faces before it fell into agonized recognition - and it was only coming on eight AM by the time they were all but ready to go, only waiting on Sky and Four to eat and recap before leaving. Time waved him off, Wind following after a vicious match of rock-paper-scissors with Hyrule that nearly ended in a fistfight as the last two games promptly gave way to blatant and unashamed cheating. 

 

For all his struggles the last few hours, Wild had at least gained back the color he’d lost in his escape attempt. The foreboding wet rasp was gone from his breathing, and he even woke as he was moved, frowning a little as Sky moved away before latching onto Wars instead with a satisfied little hum, discomfort in the line of his brow but already so much better, thank the Goddess. Warriors felt a little more confident leaving him alone with Legend like this, and could only hope he didn’t backslide again. 

 

The Vet had assured them all that after a night’s sleep he was fine in the spring, reminding them pissily that he was not actually so stupid as to pass out from magic depletion rather than just transform into the mermaid’s tail, no matter how he loathed the idea of it. “The item’s got bad memories adjacent to trauma,” he’d rumbled with twisted lips, “Not traumatic itself. Worry about yourselves- you’re the ones fighting monsters while I’m sitting in a healing pond.”

 

And so it was settled, and everything else was ready to go. Wind was swimming lazy laps around them, right up until Time called him out to get geared up, the rest of camp tucked away for the day and everyone getting their armor and gear on. Legend was already wading in to swap places, only for his face to brighten into a genuine smile as he dipped into the water and undulated closer, last night’s strain nowhere to be seen in the daylight, his legs still there. “Wild!” He said gladly as he came to his knees before them, thankfully too distracted to notice the Captain’s sceptical examination. “Wars, he’s awake!”

 

“Really?!” He tried to lean around to see, Legend slipping to his side to easily guide Wild to lean into his side, Warriors slipping out and swiveling to crouch before them. His smile broadened as he saw that Wild was not just awake but also the closest he’d been to lucid since Wars had last seen, which is to say- not very, but gods, he was looking back with dizzy gladness, not fear, and that meant everything. 

 

“Hey, Wild,” he said gently, voice warm. “How are you feeling?”

 

Wild blinked at him sleepily, pausing for a long time before ponderously murmuring, “Tired.” 

 

Yeah, that had to be a big part of the problem, considering it was magical and physical exhaustion that had landed him here. “That’s alright- you can sleep if you need to. Your only concern should be getting better,” he told Wild, watching the Champion give him an absent smile before his eyes drifted closed again. Not asleep, not yet, but it would only be a matter of time. 

 

He stood, giving Legend a smile that was a little tighter, if only at the thought of leaving them here, so vulnerable. Twilight insisted the spring was safe, but still- one mistake…

 

No, don’t catastrophize . “Ledge, take care, alright?” He warned, waiting until the Vet waved him off before moving away. Noting that Wild was slowly drifting off, he signed the last ‘be back soon’ before heading to shore to get his armor on, Time already pointedly holding his chainmail in hand, all of them ready to get this done with so that it was one less worry on their plate. 

 

He’d have to be careful that they didn’t get reckless or rushed, would have to watch for it in himself, too. There was no true time constraint here, only the desire not to be apart from Wild and Legend while they were sick and weakened, not that he was ever going to let Legend overhear him saying that about him. Sky and Hyrule and Time and Twilight - hey, wait a minute - could all get away with it, but him?

 

Low on magic or not, Legend would find a way to make him more than sorry for trampling on his pride like that. 

 

He would be fine. They all would be. This is what they do, what they’ve been preparing for in all their adventures. It was just another monster battle, one they had the virtue to plan for and everything.

 

“We all ready?” Warriors called, effortlessly keeping his nerves out of his voice, flipping his scarf over his shoulder and checking his buckles once more. 

 

“Aye aye Captain,” Wind answered back with a jaunty little bounce, Time dipping his head before nudging Twilight and Sky forward, waiting until they started moving to follow Warriors before turning himself and lifting a hand in farewell towards Wild, who seemed less than happy to see them go. 

 

Warriors didn’t let himself look back, heart already aching. He allowed himself the moment, let himself feel it. Then they stepped onto the road and he was the Captain once more, focused and unflinching. There were monsters ahead that needed killing, people whose lives depended on them, and that was what was important right now. Nothing else .

 

They had a village to save.

Notes:

Twilight, whose world is crashing down: yeah i’m okay, great even- what was the question?
Time, Concerned: Where Epona was coming fro-are you SURE you’re alright??

Blue, Legend, Sky and Red: We need to MURDER
Wars, Hyrule Vio, Green: It’s a BAD TIME we gotta wait and murder LATER
Time: now kids-

Warriors: At least Legend isn’t so dumb as to use anymore magic and land himself in Wild’s shoes
Legend, currently using magic not to grow a tail in the spring: i’m not feeling so hot

Time @ the heroes: Get out of the water and get some sleep jesus christ
The heroes simultaneously @ Wild: Stay the fuck in the water and get some sleep holy shit

Chain: you can get us on shore but you can’t make us sleep when Wild’s sick dammit
Time: bet
Pokemon Text box: Time used Sleepytime! It was super effective!

The whole sitch with the Chain on the shore by the spring is best described as middle school girls trying to stay up all night at a sleepover and most of them failing miserably because they haven’t slept well or at all in days

The horse grass smells like lemon pine sol no I don’t know why that was important it just was

Whoops, accidentally made the reason Twi reacts so poorly because he’s suffering from some hellish combination of sensory-based empathy bleedover ON TOP of the bond’s sharing the Chain’s strong emotions. If you want to know why Time tried so hard to put everyone who was willing asleep, it was to help out with that- the bond wasn’t kicking in anymore, but Twi was still stuck with a bunch of frightened, worried people whose emotions he couldn’t escape sensing, and the fewer people panicking the better. Yet another reason why Twi sticks so close to Time- the man is prone more to grim determination or solemn acceptance rather than lingering on grief or fear like the younger heroes do. Even Warriors is only pushing fear aside, not eliminating it to the degree Time is. The Old Man is not perfect, but he moves past it quickest, that’s for certain.

The Chain’s sneakiness levels differ depending on setting, but Warriors was selecting for a forest. Legend is the most stealthy regardless of where they’re at, and Warriors and Four both rank higher than Hyrule once its a town. Wind shines in sparse coverage. Wars is gonna love Wild, because he’s also pretty handy. Time is often underutilized, because despite knowing better, he just does not seem sneaky at all in his armor and with his height and size. For all that he’s constantly alarming the other heroes by just appearing over their shoulders with nary a rattle of metal, he never seems the best choice; they just have trouble getting over that mental speed bump. Sorry Sky, you are the last pick no matter what; not only is he terrible at going unnoticed, but he’s equally as bad at bringing back useful, relevant data. Not his skillset.

Damn. You don’t realize how many authors you read growing up were british and subtle shaping your spelling until suddenly google docs is throwing endless hissy fits over regional spelling of color and traveller and armour and unravelling and enamored trying to pinpoint my locality and JUST LET ME LIVE MY BASTARDIZED LIFE DANG IT

May I just say- I wrote this thinking I had a decent enough memory of what Faron Bridge looked like from the playthroughs I’ve half-heartedly had playing in the background but oh BOY did I ever forget that it is a giant forest kind of situation. I don’t know how that would even make sense irl (though it is super cool in game). So if reading my description is no help I’m so sorry, have this diagram that is not at all clarifying and try looking it up yourself- I apologize in advance, because there’s so many images of other bridges in the game. Twilight Princess just abounds with them, apparently, and Faron Bridge isn’t important to anyone but us *sigh*

Chapter 18: Fools in Pools

Summary:

Fire and ankle biting at the bridge, gloomy not-mermaid at the spring.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Blood and Violence

Time at Chapter Start: About 8:30 AM
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 11, second half

Wind was not happy. 

 

For many reasons, but most primarily that Wild was not improving nearly as quickly as Wind felt he’d been assured -and Faron had been notably absent since that initial greeting, the lily-livered monkey trawl-  and maybe he’d had all his hopes pinned on this fixing everything as cleanly as a fairy does a broken bone and maybe that had been unrealistic, but- it had already been so long worrying over Wild, all of it ending in a pain Wind was never going to forget. 

 

They’d all failed him, and that didn’t change just because Wild came back. Wind had known him the longest, had the most opportunities to stop him, to help, to change his mind and get him to slow down, to rest. He failed, and so did Sky and Four and Hyrule and Time, and he knows that speaks more to Wild’s unbreakable determination than any shortcoming on their end but-

 

Still. The chances were there, and they’d slipped by, one after another. Getting him here felt like the first step in making up for letting Wild down, and yet here the Champion was, sick and suffering still. It was utterly maddening in a way that made him want to scream or worse, cry , nerves jangling as the solution he’d been holding out for failed to fix the problem they’d all created, leaving him just as stressed and disappointed now too, afraid that somehow this wouldn’t work either.  

 

And they were going to be leaving him like this, and gods, but Wind didn’t want to let him out of his sight, not again, not after everything, but it was almost worse that it was with Legend. Who, don’t get him wrong, was a total badass and fantastic at thinking on his feet and making do in shitty situations, but was also currently totally drained and rather dispiriting to look at as a guardian when he couldn’t stand without swaying. All this to go fight some monsters, which was stressful in its own right. 

 

His week was not yet turning itself around, that was for sure. 

 

Look, Wind might not say he loved being Hyrule’s hero, but he could admit to a certain sense of pride that he was the one to be able to fight and save others, a satisfaction in saving or bettering someone’s life. Wind is glad to help, to stop other’s suffering or struggling where he can and turn his blade against evil. It was fulfilling to see things be better because of his actions, and he couldn’t deny that he did enjoy the thrill of the fight -when everything went well. And when it didn’t go well… hey, he’d never felt tougher than when he walked out bloodied and battered but victorious nonetheless. 

 

But right now, as Warriors laid out the outline of attack on the monster pack and Wild remained too still and too sick in the fountain, the last thing Wind wanted was to leave. For all that the monsters they were heading towards were endangering Twilight’s home town, for all that this was a decent fight they’d had time to plan for… well. For the first time in a long time, Wind was not looking forward to the upcoming skirmish. 

 

Warriors seemed to have it well in hand, rolling easily with last night’s discovery that the only means to access the bridge was by a tunnel through a tree, leaving the monsters with only a narrow gap to guard against. It had sounded bad to him -a tunnel? With fire attacks? That did not sound fun in the least, thank you- and yet the Captain had remained utterly unperturbed, taking the information in stride. 

 

“I know it sounds scary, but it’s not,” Wars said with the kind of easy self-assurance Wind was utterly envious of. “The monsters may have a defensible position, but they’ve also nowhere to go with the ravine at their back. A choke point may seem disadvantageous, but it’s not as if we’ve so many fighters that the bottleneck matters, and they’re not smart enough or patient enough to pull off a siege. All we have to do is put enough pressure on for them to break the line and attack and it will be our advantage instead, meager though it is,” the Captain explained calmly, clearly in his element as he assessed the layout Twilight had given him, pairing it cleanly with what he and Hyrule had scouted from their overhead view beyond the tunnel. 

 

Warriors waved a hand carelessly in the air, flicking his hair back and out of his eyes. “It changes less than you think considering the tunnel was made to supply Ordon, and is large enough for the road and carts to pass through.We were aiming to defeat in detail anyway,” he’d said with an easy shrug. “We’ll just adjust how and which monsters to target first accordingly. Right now our biggest concern is the fire attacks, especially the dodongos’; right now we don’t have enough protection against fire specifically, so we’re aiming for avoidance and room to maneuver,” he stated. 

 

“Protection items in abundance, but not so much fireproof specific ones,” Legend said dryly, having already expressed his displeasure at the fact that only half of them were equipped with even heat resistant garb, the rest with charmed bomb protection rings courtesy of his  many adventures and bottomless treasure trove of tchotchkes. They’d been handed out liberally, the Vet’s face pained from both the fact that he didn’t have anything better suited to protect them all. 

 

Well, that and the fact that the reason he didn’t have fire warding gear specifically was because he could use the bomb rings for that purpose as well, a trick beyond most of the other heroes. 

 

Not all, though- Hyrule said he could make the bomb protection ring work just fine, and after fiddling with a fire rod over top it for a minute Four agreed he could twist it a bit to function against fire; Wind had poked at his curiously as it resized to his finger and thought maybe he could tell how it could be prodded into flaring in the face of calmer flames than just explosive blasts. 

 

Twilight was hopeless though, to Legend’s eternal resigned dismay, and only bomb proof at the moment, though considering that was their primary course of attack towards the dodongos it wasn’t like it was useless despite what the Vet was muttering.

 

Violet eyes glared at the Rancher, and oh, glorious- Legend meant Twilight, not the ring.   

 

Ha.

 

Wind breathed a half-hearted laugh,  but Twilight was too oblivious of the slander to react to Ledge’s withering stare. Wars was luckier, spared from their Vet’s judgement by virtue of having a goron tunic from the war still burrowed in his pack, fashioned similarly to the tunic Time had arranged under his familiar armor. Sky had his earrings, though by his word they were more suited to volcano dungeons like the goron tunic rather than not being set on fire by errant dodongos and dynalfos. 

 

It was all better than nothing, though. Or so Legend defended as he punched Twilight’s shoulder, even if Wind felt his anxiety rise at the thought of watching any of the others get caught in a licking wave of flame, charmed gear or no. Four caught his eye and gave a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, Sailor! The Captain won’t let us get burnt to a crisp; it’d besmirch his reputation too badly, especially when he’s been polishing this plan up all night to be all shiny and effective.” Sharp grey eyes slid deviously towards the hylian in question.

 

But Wars only huffed a wry laugh, utterly unaffected. “Believe it or not, there is more that motivates me than simply my ego,” he quipped, one hand lifting to prop jauntily on his hip. “After all, Sky will be there, and he’d never let me hear the end of it if I got any of you freshly toasted doing something stupid,” he said with a bright beaming smile that earned him a whack across the back of the head from the Rancher, leaving him rubbing his ruffled hair and eyeing the water to check whether the Skyloftian’s craning neck was because he’d overheard the comment or the following scuffle. 

 

Meanwhile, Twilight was already leaning in towards Wind, trying to soothe the unease showing plainly across his face. “Don’t worry, Wind. No one’s going to get scalded in a fiery death match or blown up,” Twilight said with a narrow eyed glare at Warriors, who remained utterly unrepentant as he smiled back at Twilight’s bold claim. 

 

Four’s mouth crinkled a little, refined brow dipping down as his eyes slid to the side. “No one’s going to get hurt , but I think that’ll be more down to Legend’s rings than lack of explosions. Depends on how light on your feet you all stay,” he said to the group, scanning over them judgmentally. “We should really try to keep the enemy fire to a minimum though, that way Legend doesn’t come for our knees when he hears what he missed out on.”

 

Warriors let out a pained sound, head dropping back. “You say that like the bomb arrows aren’t an intrinsic part of our line of attack,” he bemoaned, before bringing a hand up to shield his mouth and dropping his voice to a whisper even as Legend gave them a suspicious side-eye from where Hyrule was giving him a last check-over. “Can you believe he actually asked if I still had the fire rod to use? Against fire-breathing monsters, I just- as if that’s what the situation needs in any way. More fire.”

 

“I don’t think arson is an impulse Legend is psychologically capable of ever recovering from,” Four said drolly, mouth tilted in a wry smile as the Vet’s eyes narrowed and he began to determinedly move their way, Wars grabbing Wind and deciding now was a fantastic time to swap out with Sky and Time so they could get ready and the group could move out. 

 

He let himself be dragged along, watching as the devilish twist to Wars’ face fell away to something softer and sadder as they slowed and approached Wild, the shallow film of mirth washing away in the warm waters of the spring. A part of Wind wanted to keep the laughter there, even if it did ache, warring with satisfaction that Warriors’ expression finally matched the ragged mess he’d been carrying for days now. 

 

It’s not like he didn’t know what they were doing, trying to lighten the grim mood with some light-heartedness, it just- wasn’t working, never could have, not when it was only ever a means to cope with a problem they couldn’t touch. They were all stressed, and this was such a small outlet for the dark, churning emotions haunting the net of souls between them. It helped as much as it hurt, the reprieve bought by laughter a small sunpatch of precious relief even as it drew guilt like blood under a knife. The thought of laughter seemed wrong, now, as he and Wars settled Wild between them and gods, but it was hard to believe just a few days ago the Champion had been flying down into Kakariko and shaking Wind down for answers before running off to kick some ass. 

 

Wild wouldn’t begrudge them their stolen smiles and snatches of brief, weak joy- not Wild, who had grinned at Wind even as he looked more ragged, more exhausted, more frightened and desperate, always a quip or teasing comment on hand. No, he wouldn't care at all, but he was in no shape now to share those moments,eyes barely fluttering open for a moment as his body was shifted and swapped, still save for effort-wracked, slow breaths. Wars spoke quietly to Wild, even if he received no reaction in return, and even as he fell into that familiar golden-toned dark humor neither he nor Wind did anything more than smile grimly.  

 

And then it was time to go; the Old Man and Sky were ready and Legend moved out to take Wild’s side, the rest of the group properly geared up and ready to go at last. There was no more putting it off, no matter how unnerving Wild’s frailty or pale Legend’s face still was as he settled into the water. The heroes had a job to do, and Wind just had to trust that they’d be safe here, like Twilight promised.

 

And Wind hated it, despised leaving now just as he’d detested leaving Granny on his own adventures, painfully aware of her age and fragility, of how she worried and what risks that carried with both her grandchildren gone to danger and her all alone. For all that he’d feared for Aryll, he’d harbored the same trepidation at what could await their return, had felt like he was racing a clock against what Granny could bear before she crumbled under the weight of it. Even now, there was a frisson of fear every time they were back in his world near Outset at what news could be waiting.

 

Worse was that this was not a baseless fear, and Wind well knew it. 

 

Wild was still sick in a way that was terrifying , and the Vet may have been as gruff and snarky as always, but there was no hiding the exhaustion in those slim shoulders, nor the sluggishness of his movements compared to his usual silent slinking. Wild had almost been watching as they left, something like fear sparking across the bond before they moved out of range, leaving their most vulnerable members behind. Magic hid the spring, guarded by a light spirit, and yet by Twilight’s admission it had been attacked once before, and Wind did not like that one single goddamn bit . 

 

So many things had gone wrong that Wind couldn’t trust it, not when it was Wild’s life, or Legend’s. 

 

Wind didn’t like them so vulnerable, and he was already jittery to get back to them. Wars had spent a decent chunk of the walk towards the bridge warning them all not to get hasty, not to be distracted and he wouldn’t be, not once the fighting started, but right now? Right now there were no enemies to distract him from his thoughts, nothing to turn him from the incessant awareness that they were out of range and he couldn’t feel that they were okay anymore, not like he had in the spring’s clearing. 

 

Anything could be happening, and it’s not like Wind could help at all but it didn’t matter - he wanted desperately to be there, not here. 

 

Wind was a hero, though, and he knew his duty well. He was used to sacrificing for others, and when the time came he would swallow his emotions and buckle down just like the rest of them, because that’s what had to be done.

 

Until then, though, he was silent as they went, listening to the sound of his brothers pretending all was well and letting his worries take him to the sound of half-hearted heckling. 

 

------------------------------------------------

 

The plan was simple, in the end, and subject to change, as Warriors had endlessly reminded them like he always did , and Wind couldn’t help the way his face had twisted as he wondered -but didn’t voice, ye gods he didn’t need a lecture right now- why they’d even bothered. 

 

(“Now, to get them through the tunnel,” Warriors said, hands clasped together in relish. “I doubt they’ve patience enough to cause us to wait, but just to be on the safe side we’re going to offer a little… incentive.”

 

“They’re aiming for Ordon- you really think you can lure them away from their objective?” Legend said doubtfully, awfully talkative for someone who wasn’t going to be participating in the coming fight. 

 

Wars tilted his chin, smile confident. “When have you known a monster to hold its distance when there’s prey in front of it? They’ve spent the whole night being taunted by a pair of villagers far out of reach- once another victim shows up right there , they’re going to pounce. ” And oh, there was something there in the wicked curve of his lips as he turned his eyes towards the Sailor, and Wind’s eyes narrowed warningly because he had better not be thinking what Wind thinks he is -

 

“Four!” Warriors said brightly, gesturing towards the Smithy at Wind’s side. “Congratulations! You get to be bait to draw them through the tunnel. Your job will be to look pathetic and vulnerable.”

 

“It’s always nice to have my strengths utilized.” Four’s voice was utterly withering, his eyes hooded and piercing.

 

Warriors bared his teeth in a vicious grin, facing forward once more. “Your specialty indeed- they’re going to underestimate you, and they’re going to pay dearly for doing so, Smithy.”

 

Four brightened, showing far too many teeth to come across as anything but predatory as he beamed back. “It’ll be my pleasure,” he said silkily.)

 

As they approached everyone’s movements grew silent, the hurried pace giving way to soft-footed gliding steps as the heroes took to the woods, Twi and Wind farther out to provide support with their bows and arrows and the others closer to the entrance. Wars and Hyrule stood ready to flank the fleetest monsters as they exited so there was no retreat back towards the bridge, and Time and Sky were poised to cover their backs and monitor the advance of the slower helmasaurs and dodongos through the tunnel. Four was left to approach alone along the road, humming audibly to himself, hamming up the performance of lone wandering youth. 

 

The road followed itself into the hole, bored into what seemed to be an unimaginably large tree; Wind could trace its bulk reaching up past sight, only now registering that the shadowed effect came from a canopy far and away above that of the normal sized forest immediately around him. The tunnel was lit, but only sparsely, boring through the trunk in a slow easy curve past what he could make out. It was large enough that even Twilight atop his towering Epona would not come close to touching the carved arch of ceiling. Four, as he walked towards it, was comparatively dwarfed to a hilarious degree, a diminutive hylian outrageously outsized by the centuries old behemoth of a tree, the leaves it hosted so far above likely larger than the Smithy if they at all matched the breadth of its trunk.

 

Four had been warned not to wander into the tunnel too far, only coming close enough to let his voice echo through if necessary but not so deep as to be caught in it by the dinalfos or stalhounds. 

 

Turns out it wasn’t worth worrying over after all, though. The Smithy was still yards away from the tunnel head when the first hisses came from the passage, sounds of metal and the light skuttle of feet heralding the approach of at least the dinalfos, Four skipping back with mock alarm on his face as he reached for his sword. The lithe reptilians darted into view and Wind scowled at the armor guarding the easiest targets, letting them get well into the road before firing his arrow as they drew to a stop and lifted their weapons to attack Four. His shot pinged harmlessly off the first monster’s helmet - dammit, the eyes were too small a target when the damned lizards moved so fast- as it swiped with its axe in a terrifyingly quick movement that Four skipped back from. 

 

Wind cursed under his breath as he reached for another arrow, checking that the others were moving into place as he watched Four tease the light-footed creatures farther into the open road. Twilight’s arrow sunk into the other dinalfos’ mouth as it opened it wide, firelight sparking in its throat for a moment before it choked on the feathered fletching with a gurgling shriek. It staggered back, Hyrule ducking in from the side and spinning easily into a vicious gut stab, flashing in and ducking back out as it slashed blindly at him. Meanwhile, the Captain was busy removing limbs from the other from behind, ruthlessly targeting the less protected joints as the dinalfos tried unsuccessfully to spit its attention between lashing his shield with its spiked tail and parrying Four’s dancing attacks at its belly. 

 

Wind held an arrow loosely on his bowstring, the heroes moving too close and quick now to the dinalfos for him to land a shot with enough finesse to bypass the armor. The trio seemed to have the dynalfos well in hand, Four too quick to let the lizalfos escape the ruthless onslaught Wars and Hyrule were raining upon the monsters, all three moving easily in tandem to keep the lizards whirling desperately between attacks on all fronts. Twilight was ready with an arrow if needed, Wind trusted him to land a shot on the quick moving monsters more than he believed himself able to safely avoid his companions. 

 

The bonds hummed distantly with focus and battle calm, and Wind let himself lean into it, content for now that the dinalfos were under control.

 

Instead, the Sailor turned his attention to the tunnel entrance, Sky having gone to stand at the head of it with clawshot in hand as Time moved to land a devastating blow to the arrow-eating dinalfos, letting it’s flailing tail slice by right in front of his face before stepping in to sever its spine with one solid swing of his claymore, its chain armor nothing against the devastating power of the strike. 

 

Damn it, Wind was so jealous . He was no weakling, and Four and Hyrule’s light footed-darting was awesome, but there was something about a single crushing blow that was so unspeakably cool. Wind couldn't do the same now, but someday, once he hit his growth spurt-

 

Monsters better watch out. 

 

Time didn’t linger, though, assessing the other dinalfos before turning back to step to Sky’s side as the Chosen Hero raised his clawshot, the helmasaurs still out of Wind’s view but evidently approaching as well. Within a matter of seconds the second dinalfos had fallen, Warriors finishing it off cleanly as all the heroes’ attention turned to the tunnel and the next wave of monsters.

 

The first of Warriors’ stages, finished without flaw or injury, Wind thought with vicious relief, the heady rush of adrenaline kicking in fully as his unease drew away at their success.

 

They’d dispatched the lizards quickly enough to have a few moments to breath before the helmasaurs came thundering through the tunnel, a wall of heavy, bobbing armored skulls. They were like nothing Wind had ever seen, even amongst the other heroes’ monsters; quadripeds donned with metallic helms, the hollow thunks echoing loudly they jostled against one another, audible even over the thunder of their hammering footsteps. They were not large, the tallest only reaching Time’s hips, but the heaviness to their movements proved they would deal damage if they made contact, the momentum of their weighted bodies no joke as the stampede bore down on the heroes at the mouth of the tunnel.

 

Sky and Time faced the oncoming hoard fearlessly as they settled to work, feet braced as they latched their hookshots on and pulled the helmasaurs’ armor free. A few of the monsters fell as they stumbled at the force of it, leading to a cascading series of traffic jams as they were trampled and run over by the unstoppable momentum of the herd behind them. But removing the armor didn’t kill them, only exposing the still tough looking hide below, leaving a more agile but no less destructive monster to hurtle onwards. 

 

One of his arrows landed heavily in the shoulder of a helmasaur, stuttering its stride but doing nothing to halt its charge. Still, he fired at the charging monsters, even if he could tell the arrows weren’t doing much- even with their shells removed they seemed to have tough, loose skin, and godsdammit he was barely even helping . Lips curled in a frustrated snarl, Wind watched as Sky’s hookshot skittered harmlessly off of a larger, dark-plated helmasaur’s mask, the bone-like armor impervious in a way the smaller, metal-shielded monsters hadn’t been. 

 

The Rancher’s voice rose over the clamor, agitated and sharp. “Not that one, the clawshot doesn’t work on those!” The monsters were nearly upon them, now, and Sky and Time abandoned the clawshots for swords. 

 

“Something helpful , Twi!” Wars demanded, and the Rancher barked out, “Shit, the non shiny ones- get them from behind! Their asses, go for their asses!” 

 

It was about then that things descended into proper chaos. 

 

The herd of helmasaurs reached the heroes, who promptly scattered as they dodged out of the way, breaking formation to duck off to the edges of the forest, the helmasaur herd slow to swerve after them. The heavy creatures were too unwieldy to maneuver as deftly as the hylians through the trees, and the deadly mass of their charges was neatly mitigated by the lack of open space to build speed and damage- it just made Wind and Twi’s jobs harder. But he’d been told to hold long range support, and damn it, that’s what he was going to do, even if he almost ran into a godsdamned tree firing off a shot at a bellowing beast. 

 

The Rancher had fewer compunctions about shirking Warriors directions, though. 

 

“Stay here!” Twilight ordered as he swung his bow over his shoulder and lunged into the fray, Four taking his position at Wind’s side, both to cover for him as he took potshots and to steer clear of the as-large-as-they-were bloodthirsty battering rams. Wind kept his eyes out for the dodongos as he fired wherever he could find prone skin, only to be distracted as Sky cried out, his gaze darting to find him kneeling at the edge of the road just as a helmasaur hit him from the side, crashing into his shoulder and sending the Skyloftian sprawling under its bulk. Wind shouted, dropping an arrow into its exposed haunches, but it was Warriors who got it off, landing a front kick upon its armored head that sent it staggering from where it had been trying to ravage Sky’s face, unharmed but pissed off all the same. Twilight was there to take it out, lashing at its prone hindquarters until it spun and lunged for him, and Wind, undistracted and with the full scene in view, saw what was about to happen a split second before it did. 

 

“Time, move!” Wind shrieked, watching as Twi skipped clear and left an unsuspecting Old Man in the line of fire behind him. But his voice rang true across the space between them, and Time was damned quick when he wanted to be, spinning aside just in time to avoid the helmasaur as it blazed in along his blind side. Twilight was already following after, eyes wide and furious as he killed the monster, no time to do anything but send Time a frantic look of apology before they settled back to back. 

 

The herd had been thinned, but there were still too many of the monsters charging around for any of the heroes to relax or be distracted, lest a second helmasaur barrel into them whilst their attention was on sneaking behind one to land a shot across their bare hindquarters. Sky was once more firing off his hookshot, one arm held tight to his side in an attempt not to move that shoulder, Wars sticking close to him. 

 

It wasn’t the worst they’d ever lived through, but harrowing nonetheless, the way all free for all battles were. One of the dark-headed helmasaurs caught sight of Wind and Four, chuffing as it lowered its helm and began a heavy charge, only for Hyrule to angle his way and skim across it’s hindlegs as it passed, his blade coming away bloodied as the monster stumbled with a chortled roar, limping and slowed and focusing on the Traveler now instead. 

 

Wind considered firing a shot at it - distraction, or would it just draw attention back to them and ruin everything? - when Hyrule led it on a merry chase back around a tree, making the decision moot. And it was then, as the Sailor’s head swiveled around to track Hyrule and his pursuer as the hylian circled a bush and came up behind the monster, that Four elbowed him, pointing. 

 

The dodongos had finally came through the tunnel from the bridge, lumbering steadily as their heads swiveled, taking in the straggling looping chases across the road and in the trees as the heroes took out the last of the helmasaurs. They were slow but built thickly, more powerful than even the darker helmasaurs were, and far taller. They stepped heavily towards the distracted hylians, making no sound to announce themselves, and the dodongos may be anything but stealthy at their size but attention was a little split and hey, that’s what Wind was for.

 

His time to shine.  

 

“Heads up everyone!” Wind shouted, finally swapping the bomb arrows in. “Steer clear the line of fire!” He moved for a better angle around the darting heroes and saw Twilight retreat, giving himself some space as he too pulled out-

 

Golden goddess above, what the hell kind of bomb arrow monstrosities were those ? Heavy, unwieldy arrowheads, and Twi was just nocking them like they weren’t utterly ridiculous and oh gods he was actually going to use them, what -

 

Four was gone again, helping Sky get clear with Hyrule as Time and Wars faced the dodongos. This was the tricky part for all of them; the frontliners had to stay close enough to draw fire for the archers to land a shot in on, but not so close they caught the blast- no one wanted to test out their charmed gears’ limits today. Wind could feel his hands sweating, even if they did remain steady, drawing the bowstring taut as the first of the lumbering monsters parted its jaws stomach glowing in a rapidly brightening blaze that moved up its throat holy shit that wasn’t taking long fuck -

 

He loosed his shot, watching  the bomb arrow dart towards the great maw of the beast even as the first flames licked out, igniting it just outside the mouth. Right on its heels was Twilight’s abomination of an arrow, exploding even further out than the first as it was caught in the flames, sending up a dome of fire around the monster as Time and Wars moved back with arms over their faces. 

 

The initial detonation faded, leaving the sprawled form of the monster amidst the smoke, the other two too close for the heroes to take advantage of its daze and attack. Except Wars had accounted for that too, and Four and Hyrule were exactly where they were supposed to be, having looped around and struck at the exposed tails of the rear two dodongos, drawing the literal enemy fire away and letting Time and Warriors rain hell down upon the stunned monster. 

 

Wind almost felt bad for it as they dealt horrific, brutal damage to sever its tail from its unmoving body, almost . Except he was already moving along the forest edge and drawing another arrow as he raced for the proper angle, the pair of unstunned dodongos already rearing back to loose fires of their own at Four and Hyrule oh shit-

 

“I got left!” He called, not waiting to hear Twi’s reply as he let the arrow fly. It was once more answered by Twilight's shot on the other monster, and in the resultant set of explosions he was pleased to see his was the larger ball of fire. By now the first dodongo was disintegrating under the undivided attention of two of their strongest fighters, and there was a flurry of attacks as the heroes went all in on the remaining set of downed monsters. 

 

But while Time and Wars could take out a dodongo in a single spurt of combined effort, Four and Hyrule alone didn’t have the same kind of crazy-strong vigor. There was a shift of movement, a cry of warning, and then one of the creatures suddenly whirled into motion, its thick, injured tail whipping out and clipping Wars as he yanked Four clear, the smaller hero having been far too close to get out of the way of the tailspin. 

 

The Captain was sent staggering to the ground, the blow having glanced off of him as he nearly managed to spin out of the way but plenty powerful regardless judging by how stiffly Wars found his feet again, favoring that leg even if it did bear his weight. Wind managed to incapacitate it with a hasty shot, stopping it in its tracks and giving the others a chance to recoup. 

 

The other dodongo also stirred and whirled back to life, and Twilight tried to land a bomb arrow in its mouth but the angle was all wrong, not enough time for him or Wind to move to a better place, and the shot hit the side of its head. The monster roared, the discordant shriek vibrating the air uncomfortably, and it was too close for the heroes to attack the prone dodongo beside it without risking moving too far into its range. Time tried to circle around it, but it lashed its muscled tail at him, and only quick footwork saved their eldest from nasty injury. 

 

Then Warriors stepped in front of it, and Wind shouted in fear, because he was hurt and limping still, slowed from his usual reflexes when he most needed them as the dodongo obliged his taunting presence and rose up, it’s smoldering heavy mass towering head and shoulders above the slender Captain. Firelight sparked in the monster’s belly, flying up along its scaled throat like fire to cotton fluff, and Wars-

 

The Captain didn’t have a bow and bomb arrow, but goddess be damned if he never gave up that fire rod Legend had loaned him so long ago. He held it aloft now, arm outstretched and licking flames already circling the ruby orb as he conjured a jet of flame and sent it into the dodongo’s cherry red mouth, the rod’s paler, hotter flames stifling the monster’s own cooler, brighter orange fire. The monster choked and recoiled, not stunned as with the bombs but at least not raining fire on the Captain as Wind had feared. 

 

It was distraction enough for all of them, though. Warriors ducked away, moving in an odd half-skip as he tried to gain space to let them blow up the monster without injuring him as well, drawing the dodongo to face Wind more fully, giving him an open shot at last. Twilight met Wind’s eyes across the way and nodded as he noted the Sailor sliding to a stop with his arrow already lined up to cover Warriors, the Rancher abandoning his own bow to charge into the fray himself. 

 

And then it was chaos again, Wind trying desperately to keep an eye on the flitting figures of the others as they attacked the stunned monsters. The dodongos woke far faster than the first time, one jolting and landing a solid blow with its head against Time as it spun, only to shudder and falter before it could do anything more, its mutilated tail finally severed by Four, paralyzing the rest of it as it disintegrated. The final dodongo twitched forebodingly from where it was being beleaguered, Hyrule pulling away warily at the signs of waking but Twilight stubbornly remaining in an attempt to finish it now, striking harder before it could-

 

Not fast enough. 

 

This time the dodongo twisted with fire already breaching its maw, a trailing stream of blazing flame as it spun a defensive circle, drawing yelps from the scrambling heroes. Twilight was lost amidst the wreath of flames; Wind hadn’t seen him get out of the way, but their soulbond remained intact, at least, proof he hadn’t been caught. It could only have been seconds that the creature spun, the fiery whirlwind surrounding it forcing the other heroes back. 

 

Twilight wasn’t among them that Wind could see.

 

The beast finally couldn’t continue its onslaught, though it circled warily as the fire diminished to a drip of flames from its teeth, the smoldering embers finally fading from the air around enough to reveal that Twilight at last. The Rancher had stabbed his sword into its haunches, all but mounted atop its back as he clung to it to steer clear of its tail and the flames alike. 

 

He hadn’t escaped the fire altogether though, the dodongo caring little for keeping the flames clear of its own fire-proof body, and even now embers shed from Twi’s armor and clothes as he tilted to the side. Wind couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as Twi fell clumsily free of the smoldering monster, leaving his sword buried near its spine as he landed perilously close to the dodongo’s heavy, stamping legs, shakily lifting himself up only to drop to the ground again as the deadly massive tail swung overhead. 

 

It missed breaking his neck by too narrow a gap, Wind’s fearful scream dying in his lungs before he even realized he’d called out,  shaking as he guarded Twi as best he could, staying where he was to fire a shot if the dodongo turned to burn Twilight. 

 

He wasn’t the only one to cover, though. Time was trying to distract it and lure it farther from the prone Rancher as Hyrule moved fast, his sword glowing with power as he spun into a downward slash, amputating the tail with one blazing strike and paralyzing the dodongo as the nerves were severed. The Traveller didn’t pause a moment as he continued moving, swiveling around the fallen limb and crouching to drag Twilight farther from the collapsing monster, the Rancher’s legs clambering in an attempt to help. Time was already dodging around the dying creature’s head and bending to help as well, all of them moving clear of the dodongo’s dying throes of fire, content to let it burn itself out instead of risking moving closer to finish it off. 

 

Wind could probably put another bomb arrow in it, but it wasn’t worth the waste, not when he could tell it was already doomed, the flames faltering as it coughed and jerked upon the ground, surrounded by burnt earth and smoldering grass. He shouldered his bow and raced to join the others, breathless from nerves. “Holy shit, is he okay? Is everyone alright?!”

 

“You heard him, sound off.” Hyrule’s sweet voice rang out over the scattered questions being thrown around, his gimlet eye belying the expectation there as he crouched at Twilight’s side, waiting for the Ranchhand to list his injuries. That deep green gaze shifted over to Time. Then Warriors. And Sky. Only Wind and Four got a brief scrutinizing glance and a pass, Hyrule’s growing frown softening as he glanced over their unharmed clothes and skin.

 

“Just some bruising,” Time said with a wave of his hand, and though he was holding himself too still Wind didn’t think he was lying- just downplaying. Something that would need treatment, but was no immediate concern- though Hylia save him if Time’s self-assessment turned out to be wrong .  

 

Warriors shifted his weight testingly and winced, bending the leg that had taken a hit. “Might need some potion to walk back, but it can wait until we’re done here,” he said, easing up his careful supervision of the dodongo’s final death throes and glancing over at Twilight, who was still sitting on the ground, arms held in front of him so they didn’t touch anything.  

 

“Burns,” the Rancher said with a flinch, lifting his hands a little and yeah, those were definitely scalded. Wind did not want to watch them remove his gloves, the charmed fabric nearly unharmed against the lobster-red ravaged skin of his palms and fingers. “The protection on my armour stopped the worst of it but it’s not meant to ward against fire. By the time I realized the  dodongle didn’t care about getting fire on itself I was already in the thick of them with no way out.” 

 

Hm?

 

“Yeah, looks like your hair got a little singed there, Twi. At least your pelt’s back at the spring, so you don’t have to worry about that being ruined,” Four said as he ran a teasing hand through Twilight’s hair, trying to look on the bright side and distract the Rancher a little from the fabric being drawn from raw burns. 

 

But Wind forgot about looking at the disintegrating monster instead of his wincing, hissing companion by something far more important, and like hell was he letting it go, Twilight’s pain be damned. “Hold on a second- Twilight, the what didn’t care?”

 

The Rancher squinted up at him suspiciously, mouth pinched in pain as Hyrule started carefully drawing up his sleeves, vambraces removed. The sight of the burnt skin reaching up his forearms too almost made Wind have mercy, but well- no time for distraction like now, and Twilight looked more irate at his injuries than piteous. “The monster,” he said slowly, and for a second Wind thought maybe it was the Rancher’s accent that he’d misheard. 

 

“The what?” He asked guilelessly, head tipping and eyes widening innocently. In his periphery he saw Time turn away to hide a smile. 

 

“The… dodongle,” Twilight answered, eyes darting around as Hyrule froze and Four exhaled sharply from their nose in an attempt to hide the laugh. Sky’s face went shifty as he visibly began to doubt whether he’d been saying it right, and Warriors head whipped around, an expression of surprised delight blooming across his face. 

 

“The dodongo,” Four said precisely in a strained voice, his straight face failing as laughter drew insistently at his cheeks and lips. 

 

Twi’s ear flicked at the choked words, dismay growing as he realized what he’d opened himself up to. He looked at Time, eyes wide and pleading, and the eldest turned back with a level expression, pale eyes twinkling with humor. “ Dodongo , Pup.”

 

And that broke them all, Twilight groaning and swaying back in defeat as the heroes all gave in to their mirth. 

 

“Oh my god I love it when this happens-”

 

“Dodongle is a good one- hey, maybe we can use it for the males-”

 

“This is better than when you called a gibdo a himbo- ”

 

The resultant round of laughter didn’t last long, but the flush across Twilight’s cheeks was good to see, considering how pale and drawn with fear he’d been since they were reunited. Once it passed the atmosphere was markedly calmer- the monsters were gone and they’d accrued no major injuries, and that was a good clean victory in all their books. Hyrule healed Twi up and moved on to the other wounded members of their party, brushing off their offers of a potion easily; “We’ll be at the spring for plenty long enough for me to gain back the magic. There’s no point using supplies we might need later.” 

 

Twilight’s hands were still tender at the end of it, but Time was moving easily once more and the Captain was back to his smooth, gliding gait. Sky’s arm was put in a sling just to ensure he didn’t strain the freshly healed ligaments again, and then they were all moving through the tunnel to finish up their work here. The bridge was unsalvageable, the ground on this side of the crevasse burnt and scuffled by the monsters’ inhabitation, but there looked to be no lasting damage. Wind and the others took a moment to stand in awe at the enormous forest around them, all the giants around them matching the behemoth the tunnel bored through, their trunks stretching down into the darkness below, making Wind wonder for a moment what exactly the cross section of this area of the kingdom looked like exactly before deciding he does not want to know , thank you. 

 

Time and Twilight moved to converse - shout , that is- with the pair of villagers hovering concernedly across the gap. Wind and Four opted to shadow Hyrule and Wars as the Traveller checked for stalfos remains, Sky settling to oversee them all by the tunnel entrance. It didn’t look like Rule was doing all that much, wandering around in meandering loops whilst looking at the grass, except that there was a distinct tingle Wind could feel in the air, not unlike when he called the winds to his behest. Hyrule had the best sensing range of all of them but couldn’t often make use of it without giving them away, since it meant drenching the air with his magic. This was one of the rare cases where it didn’t matter; even if the stals were there, they were dormant at this time of day. 

 

“I can feel them there,” Hyrule confirmed with a displeased edge to his musical voice, crouching down to touch his hand to one of the many scuffled areas of dirt. Wind had marked it down to the monsters trampling about during the night, but shuddered at the realization that there were bodies down there, hurriedly side hopping to one of the few patches of grass left untouched. Four sighed and plopped his bag down, rifling around and dropping a shovel onto the ground, then another, and a third. 

 

Wind scrunched his nose but gamely brought his own out, smiling smugly as Wars’ lips curled at the diminutive shovel in his hands. To his credit the Captain didn’t complain as he went straight to work where Hyrule pointed him, even as the short length of the tool’s handle forced him to bend his taller frame into a hilariously uncomfortable hunch. It would almost be better for him to go down on a knee to use it, but Wars was far too dignified for that, opting instead to look like a demented hermit as if that was soooo much better. 

 

Four ended up being a damned demon of a digger, donning some odd clawed mitts and absolutely going to town, kicking up a spray of soil before suddenly a whining pitch rang through the air. The smithy ignored the sound and scuffled up a few more handfuls before stepping back, revealing smoldering, wriggling bones amidst the upturned earth, already bursting into flame and evaporating away under even just the diffuse sunlight making its way through the leaves. 

 

“That was refreshingly easy,” Warriors said from where he was leaning over Hyrule’s shoulder to look, his shovel leaned against his knee. 

 

“Super creepy, though,” Four said with more interest than disgust as he poked a toe at the flapping jawbone, scuffling the dirt a little so the bones were more exposed. From his shadow a pair of bright crimson eyes watched curiously as well, a little mound of darkness bulging upwards to peer into the hole before it flattened out and was just a regular shadow once more. 

 

So cool , Wind thought, utterly entranced by Shadow’s mystery now that Four had confirmed he was safe and snarky and mischievous as hell. Wind thought there was a lot of potential for friendship there, and if Four got dragged in as well solely by proximity, all the better. He was patiently waiting for the excitement to die down and the other to recover a little more, but once he did Wind was going to work his jaunty pirate magic and win himself a partner in crime. 

 

They finished up around the same time, Twi and the Old Man waving to the villagers across the gap as the now sweaty and dirt ridden exhumation team watched the last stalcreature burn away with great relish, Hyrule wandering around to double check they were all gone now. It left the area with an odd mix of sulfuric, burnt aroma mixed with a sugary sense in the mouth from the Traveler’s magic, and wow but Wind did not realize how distinctly fairy-like Rule’s magic was before this. Now that his secret was out he wasn’t bothering to tamp down on it, but unfettered as it was now it was like getting a mouthful of sugar cubes. 

 

It would probably be a better sensation when it wasn’t mixed with dodongo farts, Wind allowed generously. 

 

The walk back was surprisingly calmer than the trek to the bridge had been; Wind hadn’t realized how much tension fighting would let him release until it was gone. He was still worried for Wild and Legend, of course, but now that the monsters were no longer a threat hanging over them and Ordon it felt like there was time aplenty for them to recover, and Time wasn’t hurrying them on, so nothing must have taken a turn for the worse at the spring either. 

 

Warriors stopped them before they entered, wandering to Sky and settling his sailcloth over his shoulders to fall and cover his injured arm in its sling. “Alright, everybody, we’re going to do what we do best and everyone hates worst about each other- pretend like nothing’s wrong and nobody got hurt at all.”

 

Sky and Hyrule’s eyes both narrowed, and Time rolled his to the sky in exasperation. Warriors held his ground, though, putting one hand on his hip and lifting the other aloft to wag a finger at the group. “Wild was worried over us leaving for a fight- the last thing he needs is to see we were hurt like he feared. I don’t know how sharp he’ll be, but since I know this comes naturally to all of you-” and Sky hissed in aggravation at that, almost drowning out Wind’s affronted ‘Hey!’, all of which were easily ignored as Wars steamrolled over their jabbering “-we’re going to take out whatever stress we can for the sake of his recovery. That means distraction, and Sky, Twi, you two hang back and deflect if he notices anything.”

 

A considering silence from all of them, wherein everyone else waited to see what Rule and Sky thought of it. They’d all noted Wild’s distress as they left, and as close as they were Wind could pick up the faintest outer edges of tension and unease from Legend now, hinting that the wait hadn’t been an easy one. Hyrule seemed conflicted for a moment before nodding. “If we can keep him calm, that’s for the best,” he said, growing more confident as he spoke, eyes blazing warningly at the taller hero as Rule walked past him. “Not that this is something we want to encourage, Captain.”

 

“I already said that!” Warriors yelped defensively before being turned around and shoved towards the forest trail to the spring by Twilight. 

 

Wild and Legend were as they’d been left, the Vet’s pink head perking up from where it had been tipped towards Wild’s ears, his crisp gingersnap cookie- tickle of electricity in the air-salt brine burn in the eyes aura burning bright beside Wild’s milder pin pricks of light floating in a watery abyss, like fireflies caught in ocean depths. Just the sight and sense of them eased the last of the tight knot in Wind’s heart, and he darted into the water with a whoop, surging forward. 

 

Wild roused at the kerfuffle, exhausted and weak but so happy to see them all, his smile stretching across his face and touching those vivid blue eyes with joy. Wind laughed and held him and Legend close, thankful beyond words as the rest of his brothers gathered around. 

 

It was finally over with, finally . 

 

Things would be alright. 

 

====================================================

Legend POV

====================================================

Legend watched the Chain leave for the bridge, nudging Wild gently into a more comfortable position against his chest. He was loath to admit it, but it really was for the better that he remained here. He may have escaped that island without any serious injuries on his part, but bottoming out his magic three times in the day since had left its mark. The gap between arriving at Kakariko’s shrine and promptly wiping out what was left of his reserves when Wild left was foggy, and he’d still been struggling with it when the flash flood hit; proven by nothing if not the fact that he’d missed the warning signs because he’d been so out of it. 

 

His heart fluttered just thinking about it- the roar of water, looking around at the geographical funnel surrounding them, realizing far too late what was going to happen. He had items that could have helped the others if he’d only had time to dispense them, could have avoided it all if he’d only managed to stay awake and aware and bedamned the heavy drag of magical exhaustion. As soon as it had hit the mermaid tail was ripped into place, the water stealing his scream. He didn’t have the strength to have denied the transformation, but even if he did he wouldn’t have, not when it was the only chance he had to help his brothers as the cascading waters tore them apart. 

 

Legend thinks he passed out, from the shock to his already injured system or just losing magic he couldn’t spare changing forms or both, but he’d come to as he was skidded over an outcrop of rocks on the bottom of the floodwaters, twisting and riding the current as he tried to pinpoint where the others were, whether they were alright, but it was all a whirl of confusion and panic through the bonds. He tried to fight his way over to Sky, but though this body was made for water he’d been drained of the strength to fight the pour of the flood, exhausted and weakened even before his magic had been drained yet again to adapt the tail. It was dangerous territory he’d been thrown into energy wise, and he’d known he still needed to change back. He could afford it, yet, but it would take its toll on him.

 

Luckily, the rush of water had dumped them into wetlands, and as the current dispersed throughout the body of still water Legend finally could move as he wished, gathering Sky and flitting around him to ensure he’d stay on his feet before gauging the rest of them, Hyrule and Wind paired together, Wars also gathering his senses, Four-

 

Four fading, struggling, giving up, cast farther into deeper depths than the others. Legend forced burning muscles to move, the silt of the stirred marsh leaving him no means of navigation but their joined spirits, and he latched onto Four’s s plitting light fanning from a prism-heat shattered glass, fractured but holding strong- moving in synchrony with another, mirrored , tail lashing and tearing through the grasses as he darted through the gently pushing waters, circling closer as his heart pounded fast in his ears- 

 

Feet flailing frantically, choking gasps as a pair strained to stay at the surface, Shadow trying desperately to keep a drowning Four from sinking as the Smithy struggled and coughed, starved for air and confused. Legend drew up from below, catching Four and Shadow alike into his arms, the water deep enough here from the flood and terrain that his tail fanning below didn’t even catch at weeds; it must be more than 10 feet here from the influx of water, the trees around submerged up to their branches showing this wasn’t normal in the least. 

 

Shadow gasped a thank you and vanished into Four’s shadow, his magic drawn thin and worn, and Legend knew he’d likely not survive Four’s death, not like this and maybe not ever, reflections as they were, but still-

 

He’d had his doubts, when faced with the dark features that mirrored Four’s as all Dark Links did, and this settled them well enough. Because it hadn’t been self preservation that left Shadow to risk shattering his freshly-recreated body by drawing too much magic from his magic-sustained form, the relief on those familiar features not for himself. Shadow cared for Four, over himself, even, or at least to the point he didn’t want to survive the other even if he could. 

 

The Smithy had been alright, and the others too, thankfully. None had paid for their carelessness in any lasting manner, Legend the worst off as was only right when he more than any of them should have known and averted the crisis. He was left thoroughly wiped, all but dozing off as he curled around Four in the shallows, the Smithy fully distracted from his near death by his fascination with Legend’s tail, the soft drift of fingers over scales ticklish in a way he’d only ever experienced once before. 

 

( Then he’d left her to disappear and couldn’t bear to open those memories again, the tail nothing more now than a reminder of that place and those people, of the fevered days at sea following his awakening, a useless tool now that he spurned the ocean .)

 

But… it hadn’t been so bad, not really. Not with the same giddy gleam of marvel in Four’s eyes as had been in Marin’s. If Legend waited to shift back to hylian, it was because he knew he’d pass out from it, not so he could give Four that much longer lost in wonder. But he couldn’t remain waterbound, and just as he’d thought, tearing the stubborn, precious protective dregs of magic from around his core to tuck the tail away had wiped the last of what he could safely spare. 

 

It took time to recover from that, he knew. Wild was learning the same lesson the hard way, even further gone than he was; at least Legend knew where the line was between risk and doomed to death, and now that Wild had wandered over it he’d be making sure the other recognized the same for the future. The night’s sleep had given him back enough to stand and walk, but little more than that. A shaky weakness pervaded his limbs as if he were recovering from a fever, his endurance completely shot and reflexes slowed, leaving him wanting nothing more than to stay in his bedroll and sleep until his over-strained magic stabilized enough that it all went away. 

 

Instead he was settled in a pond that left him with the nauseating mix of his system being both refilled and drained, and for all that he came out with no net change for better or worse having it be moved both ways at once was… unpleasant. Very much more so than even scraping magic from his pitifully low reserves to deny his tail from appearing was; at least that was a familiar ache and action. There was a tension in his legs, an urge to stretch them out even though they were already relaxed before him; the water, calling for his mermaid form. The feeling wouldn’t build past achy discomfort, he already knew; the bigger bother was the steady dripping drain from his magic. Paired with the inflow, his heart was left racing uncomfortably, limbs jittery and body trembling, leaving him skittish and exhausted all at once, and he hated it. 

 

It would be easiest and safest to just let the change happen, he knew. With the tail out, the spring could refill his reserves without the drain of denying the shift, and it's not like they weren’t going to be here awhile for Wild anyway. It would be the quickest recovery, the most comfortable way to wait. 

 

Legend couldn't bear it. 

 

The last time he’d worn this form so long was the days after killing the island’s inhabitants and shattering the windfish’s dream, the parcel of wood he’d woken upon only barely floating under his weight, overturning at every wave that crawled up under it. The tail had been easier, and he’d lingered amongst the wreckage of his ship for only a few hours before realizing he had to try for shore if he wanted to survive; he had no fear of drowning, but even the tail could not save him from hunger in the barren, open ocean, and though he could breath the salt water it couldn’t wholly quench the thirst from his hylian base form. 

 

It was only the tail’s gifts that let him survive for the week and a half without any supplies, dazed and fevered from thirst and starvation as he tried to make his way to land. Eventually he grew too weak to continue, drifting limply as he watched the stars that showed he was too far from home to make it, humming to himself as the only comfort he had. By the time a ship came close by he was floating and still, eyes half lidded as he waited for death to take him, hope long since lost. 

 

He’d barely the presence of mind to register the ship’s approach, only just remembering to dismiss the tail with a weak flicker of magic as the rowboat approached, almost drowning in the minute before being saved as his legs cramped and failed from being dormant for so long. Legend had almost died anyways in the days it took to get him home, that nightmarish span of time little more than a horrific  haze of terrified delirium and hallucinations as his sun-scorched, ship-wrecked body threatened to succumb to its ailments.

 

Fable had met them at the shore, and he’d never forget the haunted look in her eyes as she recounted how afraid she’d been, to have thought him lost only to have him there again and all but dying once more. It had been… days, maybe, before he finally woke with a clearer mind, Hyrule’s crown princess at his bedside exhausted and bedraggled and weeping in relief. 

 

“No more ships, Link, just- only for awhile, please,” she’d said tearfully, clutching his hands as if he were going to run off and dive back into the water. 

 

“No more ships,” he’d rasped back, some indeterminable light snuffed from his eyes. 

 

(He’s never been back to the ocean, not in his world. 

Legend doesn’t like to think about the first time a portal had dropped them on one of Wind’s ships.)

 

So right up until it was damn well possibly going to kill him, he was going to avoid getting caught with that mermaid tail. The thought of being stuck in the water caught in his throat and he hated it, hated the reminder of those dark, horror-stricken days, and the longer he wore the tail the more it settled upon him just as it had in the ocean so long ago, and Legend would bear it again only if he had absolutely no choice. 

 

Hyrule had argued only once here at the spring before seeing the haunted look in his eyes, drawing up short at the realization that it wasn’t just stubbornness keeping him from the rational option. He’d looked regretful, sorrowful, and Legend didn’t want pity but damned if Hyrule didn’t let him choose for himself the slower means of recovery without complaint after that. 

 

Even now he didn’t regret that decision, even if it did royally suck staying here and fighting the change. His leg flexed unconsciously and he stretched it out to no alleviation of the discomfort, and he only barely caught an aggrieved sigh before it escaped, all too aware of Wild’s worry for the others and how the sound could be misconstrued. The Champion was asleep, but only barely, ears flicking at every sound and eyes fluttering, his body forcing him into rest but his mind running too hard to let him linger there. He’d wake with a low sound, murmuring after the others, and there was nothing Legend could do to help but hush him and promise they’d be back soon, and he could feel that Wild didn’t believe him, was unable to let go of the fear while they were gone. And it wasn’t easy, seeing the other like that, but it was what he’d expected. 

 

What was a surprise was the discovery during one of these murmured exchanges that Wild apparently had no idea who the Chain was or what they were doing . 

 

How. How and why and what the hell were the others doing that Wild could interact with literally all of them for this long and still not know anything. Legend could have sworn Wild had known, that the Champion had surely said something that marked someone filling him in, and yet- 

 

He’d not known about Twilight being from a different world, and that was at the core of everything, wasn’t it? So how much did Wild truly know, if not that? He’d tried to suss out the depth of knowledge, but Wild was in no shape at all to help, distracted and worrying himself sicker over heroes who would be perfectly fine , thank you- Legend may be a cocky bastard but he knows the others will fare well enough without him as to not die against some fire temple monsters. 

 

In the end, he had to resign himself to the itch of not knowing . He could ask the others what had been shared, and at this point they’d have to wait anyway for Wild to recover enough to be able to focus before filling him in properly. So he waited, and Wild waited with him. 

 

It was nowhere near exciting at all, uneventful in the precisely way that he’d hoped for when stuck with someone so desperately weak, but that did nothing to ease his or Wild’s concern. Legend was all too aware of their vulnerability, of the fragility of Wild’s condition still, of all the things that could go wrong in combat for the others. The hours passed, boring and nerve-wracking and miserable for them both, Wild fading in and out as Legend twitched and shifted underneath him, his piteous puddle of magic pulling uncomfortably within him, the water trying to pry the mermaid’s tail from him like strangers running nails along his skin, harmless but unnerving. 

 

If there was one pro to the skin-crawling feeling, it was that it made it utterly impossible for him to give in to the heavy-lidded draw of sleep, at least. Twilight had assured him the spring was a safe place, but Legend had seen sanctuaries ruined before, and the monsters they chased broke every rule of normality there was. Legend’s body was worn past its limits, and he absolutely did not want to face anything like this, but he watched and listened regardless. He couldn’t stop the paranoia, even if the periodical straight line pings he sent out for others burned at his magic. 

 

It was all worth it when finally he felt the heroes’ echo back, all of them brushing at the nexus of soulbonds before it faded back into his normal range once he released the tight focused beam. He let out a shuddering breath, head falling back in relief only to jolt forward as Wild stirred at the sound, glazed eyes slitted as he tried and failed to sit upright on his own. “‘S wrong?” he slurred, trying to blink his way to awareness and falling short. 

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Legend said for the umpteenth time, and couldn’t sound anything but tired. It understandably didn’t manage to assure Wild enough, and the other wriggled, eyebrows furrowing as he lolled his head around and squinted at the spring, thankfully untriggered by the sight the way he had been at night. 

 

“You’re okay?” Wild asked, head flopping to peer closely up at him, their noses nearly touching as Legend looked down. 

 

He sighed again, shifting his legs once more. “I’m fine too, Wild, you can go back to sleep.” 

 

But of course it couldn’t be so easy, despite the way he could see exhaustion calling to the other in slow, heavy blinks. “The others, though…” Wild murmured dreamily, even as his eyes lingered only on Legend’s face. 

 

“They’ll be back soon,” Legend said wearily, shifting for the canteen of water. “If you’re feeling so perky though, how about we see if you can handle this before you go off to rescue perfectly capable heroes.” And he saw the words fly over Wild’s head, though the Champion at least pieced together the meaning as he blinked at the water. 

 

It would likely end the same way it had been for the last day, but he had to try nonetheless. For all that Wild’s magic at least was recuperating, the biggest concern was now the way his potion-wrecked stomach could barely bear even water. Wild was dangerously dehydrated despite their best attempts, and if it didn’t change soon he’d start having other complications that Legend silently feared the spring couldn’t heal.

 

Legend wasn’t the one to break the streak, though, sitting stone-faced and heavy-hearted as Wild’s body rejected the water, the spring wiping clear the bloodied bile in a sweep of purifying magic. Wild was left shaking in his arms, humming sadly as he settled and passed out once more. 

 

“Fuck,” Legend whispered, and honed his range into a fine beam once more, wasting precious moments shifting it until it caught the other’s approach in its narrow read. 

 

Under an hour. Legend could last that long, and so could Wild.

 

When they did finally arrive it was with much fanfare and flair, Wind charging in shouting to splash water in Legend’s face thank you very much, Sailor   before Wars thankfully got him off of them. Wild was cheered immediately by their return, blissfully caught up in the shenanigans of his brothers’ tomfoolery, the worry shedding easily away as he smiled at their idiotic antics. 

 

Legend wasn’t so easily taken in, noting how Twilight and Sky stayed back, the sky-born knight’s sailcloth suspiciously positioned to cover his arm while the Ranchhand uncharacteristically didn’t join in on the tussling despite how the pervading melancholy darkening his mind had finally given way to lighter hope, his hands held awkwardly at his side instead of crossed in front of him like usual. Legend darted a gaze to Hyrule as he settled beside him and wove their fingers together underwater, an unspoken question in his eyes as he politely ignored Roolie’s magic probing at his. “Nothing serious,” he was assured softly, the ringing notes nearly drowned out by Four and Wind’s laughter as they tried to take Time down. 

 

Wild twisted in front of him, falling across his chest to peer anxiously at Hyrule. “You’re all okay?” he checked, ears perking hopefully. 

 

Hyrule melted, the displeased frown at Legend’s strained magic system breaking into a sunny smile. “We’re all fine,” he said happily. “ A couple of cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t take care of on the spot.”  

 

Wild drooped in relief, quickly falling away into a more restful half-rest as the chatter continued around them. Wars eventually stopped hassling Wind and moved to help Twi and Sky remove their boots and armor to finish healing in the waters, Four settling down to free Legend from Wild’s heavy, snoozing weight as Hyrule fluttered unhappily. 

 

He didn’t say anything about the evident strain remaining fully hylian had on his body and magic; there was no judgement in his face, only worry. “Up you go, Ledge, let’s get you dry before your magic rips or something.” 

 

The Vet snorted, but accepted Hyrule’s hand to rise stiffly to his feet, legs trembling. They tripped clumsily in the water, Time moving to grasp his arm and help him to the shore when it became clear he was struggling badly. Legend would have fallen without them holding on as he stepped out of the spring, the sudden relief from the strain of the mermaid tail’s insistence leaving his legs utterly boneless, his magic simultaneously released from the dizzying push-and-pull of the spring fighting his constant use of his dwindling power.

 

He heaved a shaky sigh, eyes opening exhaustedly to see Time’s alarmed face in front of his, Hyrule’s magic humming within the warm arm his cheek was pressed against, legs folded uncomfortably under his body. They were on the ground, him sprawled bonelessly over Hyrule’s lap, a loud ringing fading gradually from his ears as he blinked dots out of his vision and the world came back online. 

 

Shit. 

 

Sky’s face popped over Time’s shoulder, loose honeyed curls bouncing as he scowled down at Legend, warm blue eyes sharp with concern. “Vet, I swear on the Goddess, I’m going to kick your ass. You said you’d be fine!”

 

“I am!” He retorted, and maybe it wasn’t as strongly said as he’d like, Hyrule hugging him tighter when he tried to regain some dignity by sitting up, a frustrated hum escaping him as he pressed a hand to Legend’s chest, fine-boned features set in intense focus. 

 

The Traveller exhaled sharply before meeting Legend’s gaze, his moss green eyes flashing. “You’re not,” he said tightly before the edge of tension faded and softened. “You shouldn’t have done that, Ledge. It was more strain than you could afford, and not even necessary.”

 

“Another could have stayed back,” Time said, shifting back on his heels once it was clear Legend wasn’t going to be following in Wild’s footsteps anytime soon but remaining crouched, worry buzzing along the connection between them. “You didn’t have to endure the water for so long if it hurt you.”

 

“It didn’t hurt me!” He insisted, because that was wrong. “I just- underestimated its effects, and how tired I was. It would have been fine, but its regenerating effect almost made things worse, and I didn’t realize…” Legend swallowed, drawing an arm up to cover his eyes. “Sorry. I didn’t know it would be that bad. But better my being achy and tired than you being short a sword when you needed it.” 

 

Because it had been worse than he’d expected, now that he was out of it. Nothing terrible, not really, but on top of his physical and magical exhaustion it had been too much, clearly, or else he wouldn't have fainted the instant he stepped out of the spring. He’d endured far worse than persisting discomfort before, and a minor collapse was a small price to pay to ensure the Chain had all the support they could get against the monster pack, but-

 

Well, he can’t blame them for being alarmed or upset; there was a simple, safe solution and it was his stupid traumatized past that kept him from taking it. In the face of that all that was left was poor options, and even the best of those had gotten him here- collapsed on Hyrule’s lap, on the very brink of dangerous magical exhaustion in his own right, and surrounded by rapidly concerned soulmates who felt they could have done more to prevent this.  

 

They were wrong. He’d taken the lesser risk by staying back alone, the one with only a single person collecting collateral if it went wrong, and oh boy , were they pissed at him for it. 

 

A chorus of irate sighs and groans met his stubborn sideways apology, but he was right and they knew it. The Old Man frowned, but there was only understanding in his gaze, if not lingering disapproval. Time tousled his hair messily in punishment, Legend hissing at him but making no true effort to bat his hand away. Then Hyrule was shifting, heaving him into his own arms with a soft humming activation of the power bracelets, moving smoothly to dispense him back at the makeshift camp, Wind having already scrounged up a dry sleep shirt. 

 

Minutes of ruffled grumbling as too many people tried to help him strip off damp clothes and one grudgingly chugged green potion later, he was settled in his bedroll, just as warm and cozy as he’d been longingly imagining in the spring. Sky settled beside him, his free hand falling to rest in Legend’s hair, fingers massaging mindlessly along his scalp. It was only late afternoon, Hyrule on his other side all that kept the sun from shining upon his closed eyes, but Legend was already dozing easily, riding the waves of drowsy contentment. 

 

Then Time decided he was taking too long, and with a gentle sweep across their soulbond drew him kindly into sleep. 

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

He didn’t wake up until late the next day, eyes sleep clogged and feeling almost heavier for how long he’d been out. Legend would have drifted off once more, but someone -Roolie, he knew the song streaming across the soulbond- was adamant as they shook his shoulder. 

 

“Come on, Ledge, you need to eat too. We let supper slide but don’t think I didn’t notice that island took its toll on you.” 

 

It was only as he was settled at the fire, some pleasantly mediocre porridge in his hands that he nudged Hyrule. “How’s Wild?”

 

The grimace was answer enough. Turns out he’d missed Wild struggling again that night with memories of whatever shrine had traumatized him, something about the shine of water in darkness triggering panic to his dazed mind. It was alarming to hear that he’d slept through the sound and panic alike, but Time seemed unconcerned. 

 

“You needed the sleep, Vet. You wouldn’t have slept so deeply otherwise, and it's safe here.” Time’s smile turned wry. “Besides, it's not as if there’s much else to do while we wait. The bridge to Ordon won’t be repaired until supplies and an architect can make it here, so there’s no visiting Twilight’s family. All we’ve got to do is rest up, now.”

 

Legend relaxed a little, before jolting as he remembered. “Actually, while most of us are here-” Though Wind and Sky were with Wild, and they’d met the Champion early so they may have the most important insight yet- “I’m curious. Something Wild said yesterday made me realize- exactly who told him what about us? The portals, Dark Link, heroes from different times,” he gestured with his spoon around at them all. 

 

“He already knew,” Time said, though his brows furrowed in consideration. Warriors opened his mouth to agree before pausing as he saw the others nod their head. 

 

“Wait. Why are you asking, Legend? What did he say?” The Captain sounded uneasy, eyes pinned on Legend’s face. 

 

“Well, he was certainly surprised to find out we weren’t in his Hyrule anymore. And that he was in a whole new world altogether. Not in an ‘I was unconscious through the portal and didn’t realize’ kind of way, either.”

 

“Okay,” Hyrule said in a high, alarmed voice as his head whipped around to look at each of them. “Did any of us ever explain anything? Explicitly? Because I didn’t, not about the portals. We just went over each of you all so he knew what to look for. He’d already stopped by Kakariko three times, I thought- Four?” He asked weakly, hopefully. 

 

Four’s eyes were wide though, and he shook his head so quickly his hair fanned out. “I didn’t, but I was out for so long I just assumed Wind or Sky said something. Wild seemed to know enough, but he was in a rush…” He glanced to the trio in the water. 

 

“So none of us here explained anything to him, right?” Warriors iterated, shoulders drawn in alarm, and Legend understood that sentiment. Because if Wild didn’t know it was through negligence on all their parts, except maybe Twi’s, who hadn’t met him at any point Wild was in shape to talk. 

 

Silence. The distraught aura grew stronger still. 

 

“Alright, let's not panic prematurely,” Time said over the unspoken sense of definite panicking. “Wind and Sky were the first to talk to Wild; we’ll ask them once they switch out. We all know how it goes- I’m sure one if not both of them explained the nature of our quest.”

 

-----------------------------

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Wars’ vehement whisper shout carried over the water as he swapped places with Sky and Wind. 

 

Well that didn’t bode well. For a moment, Legend almost regretted kicking the hornet’s nest, but… well, even though everyone was definitely panicking now it was a harmless panic, all told. And better now then Wild just growing more confused as time went on. Legend was near to last in culpability; he was hardly to blame when almost all the others - Wars included, ha - had failed to realize the lack of informational run-down provided before him. 

 

It was almost funny, when he looked at it like that.

 

“Alright, which of you two gave Wild the introduction spiel?” he demanded as they slogged into camp. 

 

Wind froze, looking at Sky. Sky had a thumb pointing to the younger hero as he continued approaching, glancing back at the stopped Sailor before doing a double take at Wind’s wide eyes, horror growing as he turned back to them and read the room. “Wind?!” 

 

“He didn’t give me a chance!” Wind squawked “And then you lot spent so much longer with him while he was getting you back and he sounded like he knew so I just assumed-” His face fell into true dismay, and Legend couldn't help but feel bad, because wasn’t it the same for all of them, really? He’d assumed that there was no way Wild couldn't’ have been told about the portals and heroes across time thing by any of the others, and yet-

 

Here they all were, a big ol’ oopsie daisy right in front of them. 

 

“What do you mean you didn’t tell him, Wind? I didn’t tell him! The others didn’t- oh sweet Goddess above, what exactly does he think is going on?!” Sky panicked. 

 

“I mean, that was part of the problem, though, wasn’t it?” Hyrule said nervously. “He seemed to just take it all in stride, I didn’t even imagine he couldn’t know when he acted like our whole situation was normal and expected.”

 

Time dragged a hand over his face. “That may have been the bond at work. He felt at ease with us, so there would have been no need for suspicion. Wind, what exactly did you tell him when you first saw him? What has he been thinking, this whole time?”

 

“I- That I’d been separated from my friends, that we were all heroes hunting the black blooded monsters and that he was one of us. I don’t… I didn’t get a chance to tell him about the portals, or that we were heroes across different worlds, though.” Sky’s stare intensified and Wind backed up, hands waving. “I tried! But he was in a rush once he looked at his map and realized you guys landed in some dangerous places. And I meant to tell Impa a little then, but I might have passed out a little and then Four arrived and I didn’t want to leave him and then Sky went and talked to her and- I’m sorry! It was a lot, and I forgot, and then assumed!”

 

Four patted his back. “It was the same for all of us, Wind. I was out when I arrived in Kakariko too.”

 

Wind still looked angry at himself, eyes downcast. “Yeah, but I talked to him then, too. Told him about us sharing a name, was going to segue into the whole sharing a spirit thing- hell, he even joked about us wanting him to join all on his own! And then he went and ran off again. Same after Sky, and then he was with Hyrule so long,” Wind said dismally, shoulders falling hopelessly as his head tipped beseechingly to the side. 

 

Hyrule shrugged, though. “He didn’t do much talking, what with trying to avoid dehydration. But he knew who I was and who you were, and he said he’d met all you. I didn’t even think to ask. Some of what I said may have hinted at it, but he didn’t seem surprised or confused, though…” Hyrule’s gaze slipped to the ground, darkening somewhat. “Well, some of that may have been the dehydration or heat stroke.”

 

Four sighed, propping his hands on his hips. “I think he’s pretty easy going in general, all told. He probably got enough information that he didn’t feel he had to pry any further, and anything odd we said got brushed off because of the companionability of the fresh soulbonds or just because in the stress and rush there wasn’t time to spend worrying about it.”

 

“It’s not any of our faults,” Time said calmly, stepping to rest  a hand on Wind’s hair and Sky’s shoulder, the two seeming most guilty about it. Four, the little shit, had already brushed it off, eyes glinting curiously. 

 

“I wonder what he thought was going on,” the Smithy mused. “What, were we a traveling band of mercenaries to him? Good grief, and he was just going to go along with it? Wind! Did he say he was going to join up?”

 

Wind squinted at Four. “Yeah, he seemed down for it. Said eight other Links headhunting him for his name wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d heard of.” He perked up a little bit. “He was down to join up, though.”

 

The Smithy looked affronted. “Our souls are connected, a fact he was aware of. I hope that’s enough for him to be happy to stick around, especially if he didn’t know about the interdimensional portals or infected monsters.”

 

Time washed a calming wave over all of them, Legend riding the offered serenity and letting it settle him. “Now now, everyone. Wild’s happy to be here, and if how seriously he took saving us is any indication, he will accept the responsibility given to him by admission on this quest. We’ll explain it to him same as we have for each of us, even if it is a little late. Something tells me he’s not the kind to blame us for the oversight, considering the circumstances.”

 

------------------------------------------------------

 

(Wild had done them one better; not only had he not blamed them, he hadn’t even comprehended what was being told to him by a patient Warriors and bright-eyed Four. 

 

“A… portal?” he’d said wonderingly, glassy gaze winding unevenly between the two heroes. “Between… worlds?” He sounded hopelessly lost. The silence dragged between them before they realized no questions were forthcoming, Wild seemingly unable to even begin to know what to ask. 

 

It was possible they’d jumped the gun, a little bit, but Warriors gave a gallant attempt to rally a victory yet, opening his mouth to try to break it down even further only to have Four intercede, grey eyes drifting purple at the edges. 

 

“Yes, between different worlds. You see, there’s countless iterations of your world, each subtly different, though the sources or nature of these varies; some by choice, some just by pure possibility, all of them existing alongside one another but never interacting. That’s not really the case here; we think we’re all from the same or related ‘lines’ of events, that is to say one universe-” And Four was off, and Wars tried to hiss at him to stop, Four, geez, but it was too late. 

 

Wild stared blankly at them, and Wars could practically see the unanchored, incomprehensible information float away without leaving a mark on that exhausted, illness-wracked. He sighed, drawing a vague concern to that distant turquoise gaze that he waved off, cradling Wild closer as Four continued to expound on one of his favorite fascinating topics. 

 

At least they can say they tried.)

 

------------------------------------------------------- 

 

By the time the portal finally did appear, Wild was blessedly out of danger. Still sleeping most of the time, and more often than not only half-aware when awake, but he no longer strained to breathe, his heart’s struggle to keep a steady pace fading to a reassuring even beat at last. Faron had given Wild permission to leave the waters, at least, though they still spent hours in it to be safe, to hasten his recovery. But though it wasn’t needed, leaving the safety net of the healing waters while he was still weak was something he’d hoped to avoid. Legend knew they were already pushing it, having been here almost a week now, but-

 

Well. Hope springs ever anew, and he knows the worry also lies in how Wild will fare through the portal. They don’t take magic, being formed and powered outside of the heroes, but it doesn’t change the fact that Wild died after going through the last one, and it was probably unrelated, since he’d been dying before he went through, but fear isn’t rational, and Legend can’t help but be paranoid of the same occurrence. 

 

Wild wasn’t afraid, though. It was a normal portal, and a normal jump, and on the other side Wild was the same as he’d been at the spring, though wide-eyed in wonder as he looked around and watched the portal disappear. They’d all fared the same as always- most no more than slightly dizzy, Hyrule silent and pale, and Four disoriented and sick and-

 

Splitting into his colors, adding a whole new level of chaos to the rabid fluttering going on over Wild and Rule and Four and whose world they were in and thank the goddess that went well . 

 

Just another portal jump after all, and they were right back into the swing of things. 

 

No cause for worry after all, then.

Notes:

Wars: Alright I need bait, Wi-
Wind, stressed and distracted: }=<
Four, who historically lives to be a troll: =)
Wars: Get over here Four I’m gonna make your day

Time: Okay I’ve got dodongos
Twilight: Dodongles
Time: -bubbles,
Four, nodding: Boobles
Warriors, hand raised: And don’t forget Volvagia-
Time: ALRIGHT WE’RE DONE HERE

Four, very pointedly and loudly while digging: Dang where’s Wolfie when you need him?
Twi, sweating nervously: idk man that’s so weird
Four, tossing a bone over his shoulder: he’d love this
Twi, shaking as his eyes track it flying through the air: he sure the fuck would

Wars: Okay gang remember that thing we’ve told you not to do ever?
Wind whispering to Four: which thing do you think he’s talking about?
Wars: Well we’re going to practice it right now to use just this once and never again, gather round

 

It is so important to me that you guys know that the front kick Wars used on that one helmasaur to get it off Sky is a Sparta kick, so you can visually picture the correct scene if (like me) you didn’t know it by any other name than a bastardized reference to the movie 300.

I did play fast and loose with Faron Bridge’s set up- the tunnel approaching is more like a winding crevasse thing, but oh well. I also widened it, because it really does have to be big enough for like wagons and stuff to navigate easily or it's kind of shit so far as the only path into the village goes, you know?

And it doesn’t matter, and wasn’t written to explicitly be noticed, but there were a handful of helmasauruses sprinkled in amongst the helmasaurs. They’re the same idea, they just can’t have their head armor pulled off and are bigger/stronger. Only Twilight would know the difference, since they look fairly alike; Wind had no idea, so he just called them all helmasaurs. The easiest way to kill a dodongo is to attack its tail, and the only real world application I could imagine would be some kind of nervous system flaw that paralyzes the whole monster once the tail is severed; maybe it just causes a system collapse that eventually leads to whole body failure. Or maybe it’s a hind brain situation (I mean do they really have to be in the head) and removing the tail is basically decapitation- blame the (incorrect) double brain theory for stegosaurus for that one.

The dodongle is brought to you by the realization that sooner or later someone had to mishear one of the monster names they were unfamiliar with. Those blasted eggcorns will get anyone who’s not careful lol

You’ll notice that Wind wasn’t bothered by the others' emotions like in Twi’s pOV from last chapter- that’s more a Twilight problem than anything else. Most of the heroes can naturally control how much emotional feedback they get from the others, toning it down so they’re not overwhelmed or distracted. Some are just less sensitive overall, like Warriors. Twi is unlucky enough to be very empathic and emotionally sensitive, with no means to turn down the volume per se; blame the animal emotional awareness if you like, but it does leave him more easily overwhelmed when the group as a whole has gone through something rough. I wanted to point it out so it wasn’t a matter of Twi being fragile or Wind caring less or anything like that; it’s just a matter of sensitivity and degree of unconscious control.

Chapter 19: Cue the Recovery Montage

Summary:

Wild’s days being dragged around like a meat sack are not yet over; Hyrule despairs of an uneventful pipe dream, and Four gets all the warm delightfuls.

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Blood and Violence, Vomiting

Time at Chapter Start: About 7:30 AM
Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 12, first half

Hyrule can’t help but wonder, sometimes, how exactly the others managed to survive their quests all on their own if not by divine intervention. Because they may all be brilliant fighters and clever and strong and courageous to a fault, but they’re also idiots without an ounce of self-preservation. 

 

He is both unendingly exasperated and envious of this idiosyncrasy.

 

Hyrule is cut of the same cloth, but this he does not share with the others- his blood’s value to his monsters’ cause has forced him to be careful, to always treat injuries as soon as possible, to take what rest he needed to avoid exhaustion and disadvantage that could end in his capture. Hyrule cannot afford to be reckless, not when every drop of his blood holds seeds for evil to grow from. 

 

The Hero of Hyrule was an adept fighter in his own rights, deadly with a sword and magic both, but he was not invincible. His world was arguably the most dangerous of all they’d visited, between the lack of resources and the hoards of monsters lurking in the dying trees and behind distrusting human faces. Hyrule did everything he could to make it better, safer, but he was, for all his power and skill, still one person fighting to save a broken, overrun land. 

 

He knows the others have experienced the same- an enemy that matched them, a hoard that threatened to overwhelm even their goddess-enhanced strength. They all rose to the occasion, he knows, and he did the same on his first adventure when it was Ganon he faced, gladly forfeiting his life for his kingdom if that’s what it took to free them from evil’s descending grasp. He’d won, barely , and it should have fixed everything, made it all better.

 

And it did, for some- but it was a slow, slow healing, and his world was stained by darkness along the scars left by Ganon’s ruthless reign. The desperate decline may have halted, but roads are still not safe, the villages and people still preyed upon and starving. There is no call for a hero to fight a great evil, but a pervading one. Hyrule is wanted everywhere, all at once. 

 

He cannot do it- no single person could.

 

And that at least, he knows. What scorn is based on his inability to be a prescient, omnipresent guardian is easier to disregard for its blatant unattainability, though his failures hurt all the same. Common sense says he could never save everyone, even as his heart aches for those outside his reach. 

 

It is not those deaths that Hyrule blames himself for.

 

It is one thing to arrive too late, or not at all, to hear of a town halved by a hoard farther across his country, to step over fallen bodies as he cuts down monsters reveling in their interrupted massacre. But some battles cannot be won. Some victories are not assured, and Hyrule- whose hand burns with the Triforce he must protect, whose blood in drop or flood could consign his beloved land to darkness once more under Ganons’ resurrection- cannot take risks. 

 

He is a hero, yes, but a terrible one. 

 

And maybe it was not by choice, but what difference did that make when he had to watch a woman fall under a blow he could have taken in her place because he could not let his cursed blood spill upon the stone? When he was forced to flee before insurmountable hoards and leave behind innocents to die at their hands rather than be overwhelmed and captured? He hated it, every fracturing shard of his spirit crying out in horror, in self-directed fury, but his life, equally blessed and cursed, was more important than theirs. 

 

Always. 

 

Hyrule can tell himself what would befall his lands if he followed his heart, if he remained to fight as his soul demanded, if he looked death in the face and met it with a battle cry. But it is ever a possibility only, and the fallen lives he abandoned when they needed him most are cold, hard, realities. There is no hiding from the fact that he had to weigh their worth, and no one to blame but himself in how their lives were forfeit to the greater good . 

 

At least Hylia turns the blows to those who can take it- unbreakable spirits, heroes who are gifted and indomitable in the face of the darkness she throws them before. 

 

Hyrule leaves innocents to die in his place, and the count is piling up, the scale of the greater good and the blood his conscience can bear tipping ever more tenuously as the years pass. 

 

(Tera had called Hylia a coward for forcing others to fight for her- what did that make him, who leaves others to die for him?)

 

Hyrule was the one who forsook his people time and time again to save himself. That he’d fight and die if he could meant nothing. That he could conquer the fear he felt facing nigh-insurmountable odds was an empty placation when he didn’t, when he, the craven hero, turned and fled, afraid. He deserved the way his soul burned at the cowardice, the abandonment, the selfishness. 

 

Spirit of Courage indeed. 

 

It was all he could do, though, and maybe it had been slowly breaking him but here at least, and now, there was a freedom to be found in the portals. In the others’ worlds he can finally be the hero he so desperately wanted to be, can prove to himself he is more than the fleeing waif his people know him as, trailing destruction in his wake. His fae tinted, goddess-blessed blood is cursed to raise Ganon back from the death he’d dealt him, but only in his lands . Only in his world, where the magic born in his blood resonates with the land, oscillating in perfect reflection to the darkness there. His life may forever be endangered in his kingdom, but not in the others, and the opposite was equally true. Their blood held no allure, their value nothing more than another creature to be killed in the eyes of his monsters.

 

(He’d cried when this was confirmed, so horribly afraid when they first wandered his lands that any injury to this careless group would spell the ruin he’d given everything but blood to secure. And the others hadn’t understood, and he hadn’t told them, because to say that was to say it all, and he couldn’t bear to admit to them how he’d failed his people, how he would continue to do so. 

 

This too, was a secret he wouldn’t be able to keep forever, he feared.)

 

His relief at their blood’s unimportance to his monsters was well founded, considering how much of it they’d spilt in their world and his world. Worst of all was that it was from such innocuous, everyday tasks,  doing everything from whittling wood to sharpening blades, carelessly letting the sanguine dots spot their clothing and leak harmless iron scent into the air. Hyrule remembers being so careless, but it’s distant and strange, and he cannot fathom seeing his own blood spill now without the following rush of fear and wariness. 

 

Even when he’s safe in a non-predatory world, even with all the others at his back- Hyrule cannot let the instinct die, not when he will have to return to that life when this is over. Not when their safety means nothing so long as he’s at their side, a target that covers them as well. He’s dragging them into danger, he knows. It’s unavoidable by the Goddess’ own hand, but he does what he can to mitigate the threats that exist because of his presence.

 

That means Hyrule is careful, always , with his injuries, and cannot help but be the same for theirs. Any injuries or maladies, blood aside, because it does no good to be weakened or vulnerable when they face monsters at every turn. He’s grown accustomed to weighing risk differently for them than for himself- a bloody gash on one of the others can wait if supplies are low, though for him it will always be healed first over any non-leaking wounds. But no injury should go unacknowledged, or ignored, not unless the situation is truly dire and certainly not after it is no longer such.

 

So to return from a non-critical fight to find Legend nowhere near as fine as he’d insisted he would be-

 

Hyrule was feeling distinctly irate, to say the least. 

 

Because this was no emergency. Hyrule had noticed Legend’s magic undulating when his predecessor was submerged, but had put it down to a water breathing ring or speed swimming item; which, he hadn’t been wrong, really, had he? But he’d understood the nature of Legend’s problem, and he’d known waiting in the spring would be uncomfortable and no help whatsoever to Legend’s recovery, but his predecessor had been so certain it would be harmless- and damn it, but Legend was so naturally confident that there was no way of knowing even now whether he’d been wrong or just that good at bluffing. Hyrule had believed him and the easy cocksure sway of his mind then, but he was growing steadily more suspicious now as Legend’s and Wild’s souls came gradually into focus. 

 

That same self-assured mind didn’t feel so confident now as they approached the spring and the soulbond between them slowly awoke, Legend’s mind stretched thin and grimly determined, someone clinging at the edge of their endurance. From what Hyrule could feel his magic hadn’t dropped or weakened, but was in considerable turmoil compared to the Vet’s usual steadfast control and precise manipulation, like water shaken in a container, bubble fraught and swirling.

 

Hyrule winced; that couldn’t be anything but maddening to Legend’s finely honed awareness of his power. There was no danger there that he could sense, though, and it was nothing more than his stubborn predecessor had insisted on enduring, so the Traveller let it lie in favor of not inciting panic in the already stressed group of heroes rendezvousing back to their infirmed. 

 

Of course Legend was worse off than he let on, though. Being soul bonded didn’t mean much when the Vet still didn’t let any sign of infirmity be felt between them, his mind flawlessly resigned and composed. There had been a trace of worry, which Hyrule credited towards Wild’s plight, because Hylia forbid Legend spare a thought for his own wellbeing except in terms of how it hinders his ability to help others. The Veteran could pretend to be hard-hearted all he wanted; Legend knew that he was one of the more genuine heroes among them. 

 

(Legend’s nobility only made Hyrule feel like that much more of a failure as his successor, falling short of the Vet’s legacy in every way.)

 

So yes-looking at his beloved friend and brother in arms right now Hyrule resisted the urge to throttle him as he waded through the water. Mostly because it looked like that would be all it took for him to keel over, but also because it was morally a bad thing to do, and probably wouldn’t even get Legend to do anything but laugh at him. The Vet was pale and shaky and pretty much unconcerned by his condition as he watched Wild smile at the others’ antics, making no move to draw attention to his own condition. 

 

And Hyrule gets it , not wanting to ruin the atmosphere when it's brighter than it has been since landing in Wild’s world. After all, Warriors had the same idea, and Hyrule wasn’t about to call attention to the fact that Legend had been suffering this whole time and Wild hadn’t noticed; that would go over horribly , and for all that their light-heartedness was covering for a few injuries the delight at seeing each other properly was genuine and deserved to play out. It had been a magic all its own to feel the Chain’s discordant, jangling anxiety fall away at the sight of Legend and Wild waiting safely, the Champion smiling sweetly as they approached. The unease was still there, undershadow to the joyous, dancing relief and simple giddiness, and probably would be until Wild was wholly recovered, but the nexus between the Chain’s minds was brightening again at last, the storm blowing over. 

 

Legend had seemed in no rush to leave the waters, but Hyrule knew they were having two intrinsically different experiences at the moment.  For all they were warm and rejuvenating to him- the feeling was not so dissimilar to a Great Fairy’s spring, though he didn’t know where they drew their power with no ley line in sight- their healing was in direct conflict with Legend’s mermaid-inclined magic at the moment, and paired with the Vet’s pale pallor he was watching no more of the other’s ridiculous disregard for himself. 

 

“Up you go, Ledge. Let’s get you dry before your magic rips or something,” he coaxed, only half joking as he watched the roiling stretch of his magic. It had to be exacerbated by how low and sore from overuse the Vet’s magic had to be already, and between that and watching a muscle periodically flick in the other’s calf, Hyrule was done, even if Legend wasn’t. 

 

His predecessor huffed in what could have been exasperation or endearance to the others’ muted teasing but stood readily enough, only to wobble worryingly. Hyrule felt alarm ripple across Legend’s mind, mirroring his own and drawing Time’s eye, only barely remembering to stifle his gasp. At least he hadn’t done this knowingly, for what little it was worth, he thought desperately as he moved closer and clutched the other’s arm. Time moved to help steady Legend as he stumbled on the first step through the water, seeming to struggle to get his legs to work as they should when his magic was trying to insist they be a tail instead.

 

Hyrule was watching his magic when they stepped out of the water entirely, saw the way the tension eased so sharply that it snapped to stillness with near auditory force. Legend staggered, a small, lost sound escaping him before he went boneless in their arms, fainting dead away. Hyrule gasped and caught him awkwardly, Time jolting forward to help keep him from falling right back into the water. Legend’s magic rippled to its usual still calm, something about it buzzing irately at the hours of irritation it had been subjected to.

 

“Oh Hylia- is he alright?!” Sky gasped, wide-eyed with worry as he trotted over, hovering while they moved awkwardly farther onto the pebble beach and Hyrule settled with Legend sprawled over his lap, fingers resting lightly on his skin as he monitored the other’s magic for any sign of distress or danger. It did not lick at him the way it usually did, far too shallow for any play and unresponsive with Legend down and out, but though Hyrule couldn’t gauge how much there was, there was no edge of desperation or hollowness to it that marked deathly severe magical exhaustion. 

 

Legend’s heart beat reassuringly strong under his fingers. He gave a short sigh of relief, warring between agitation at Legend’s disregard of his own comfort and the growing fear at the uncharacteristic lapse in awareness when the Vet was usually so vigilant of his own magic and what could have caused it .  “He’s still too low on magic and staying in the spring was rough on him, but I think it was the suddenness more than anything else that shocked him into collapsing,” Hyrule thought out loud, frowning, and Time nodded his agreement as he arranged Legend’s arms to less of a wild splay, hand lingering around the Vet’s wrist in his own show of concern. 

 

A tremble across their soulbond, and Time relaxed imperceptibly. “Look, he’s already coming around,” the Old Man observed, pitching his voice so that it could be heard by all the heroes craning towards the scene, watching as Legend’s eyelids gave a flicker and his breathing pattern changed. 

 

The next moment Legend’s mind was there once more, dazed but sharpening fast as he slowly drew in a deep breath and opened hazy eyes. A few blinks and they cleared, his nose immediately wrinkling as he realized what had happened. Another handful of moments for Hyrule, Time, and Sky to assure themselves Legend was fine, and then the atmosphere switched smoothly from fearful-concern to irate-what-were-you-thinking .

 

Sky bristled as Legend’s eyes moved over him. “Vet, I swear on the Goddess, I’m going to kick your ass. You said you’d be fine!” And Hyrule only recognized the curling proboscis of light echoing Sky’s words in his magic as guilt because of the slant of Sky’s lips, the frustrated furrow in his brow that was not the anger showing his voice. 

 

“I am!” Legend insisted, eyes widening as the frustration on Sky’s face fell into something more frightened, but the impact of the reassurance was lost from where he was splayed across Hyrule’s lap. His gaze darted to Hyrule and Time, finding the same conflict on their features. The Veteran tried to move to sit up, but Hyrule was not ready yet , and kept him down with a hand, silently assured by the fact that Legend acquiesced out of courtesy, not physical weakness. He was glad to see the other moving, feel his magic brush familiarly against Hyrule’s, even those handful of seconds with Legend limp atop him too much right now on top of everything else. 

 

Hyrule scowled, temper stirring, because Legend may have not been dying but fine people don’t collapse, and that was exactly the line of thinking that had gotten Legend to the point of fainting at all.    

 

“You’re not.” Hyrule said furiously, and couldn’t help but tighten his hold around the other, pressing his magic closely to the sunlit pool that was Legend’s power, diminished but present. It tickled back, like fish nibbling on his toes, and Hyrule softened, somewhat, as Legend looked up at him with apology in the lines of his face. “You shouldn’t have done that, Ledge. It was more strain than you could afford, and not even necessary!”

 

And he could have foreseen how the argument would go from there, but couldn't help trying anyways. Legend disagreed on the importance of him staying back, adamant he had made the right decision to keep as many people in the combative party as possible, since he couldn’t go either way and Wild needed someone with him in the water.

 

Hyrule gripped Legend tighter, hating that the Vet was right. The risk ended up being low and the monsters nowhere near fatally powerful, but while that made it easy to say that Legend had overreacted and torn apart his fragile magic for nothing, that just wasn’t fair. They’d all agreed to this plan, and even if Legend fully knew how hard lingering in the water would be, it truly wasn’t dangerous even now, despite how scary his fainting was. 

 

(Hyrule had to believe that, had to trust that no matter how stubborn Legend was he would take the mermaid form before he could accrue any mortal harm by the water’s well-intentioned healing. There had been shadows in those eyes at the idea that stopped Hyrule from asking, but he didn’t need to know to see the trauma lingering around the item and its ability. 

 

He knows Legend wouldn’t die to avoid bad memories. Not… not for his sake, but for theirs, for Hyrule’s, for Wild’s. 

 

And Hyrule hates and fears that that is what’s stopping him.)

 

But they’re here now, and Legend is out from the water, his magic chafed and raw and exhausted but sound. Time moved away at last, marking the end of their most recent attempt to make Legend place his safety over others -it was recognized as futile by all of them, and not worth wasting more of the Vet’s waning energy or patience. Hyrule didn’t give Legend a chance to try to move on his own, capitalizing on the Vet’s current guilty tolerance at Hyrule’s distress and lifting the other up into his arms in a careful, smooth motion thanks to the power bracelets. Legend predictably sighed but didn’t argue, cowed by the righteous determination and insistent caring Hyrule was pushing at him across the bond. 

 

It was only a matter of minutes later that the Vet was passed out again in his bedroll, Time innocently talking with Wind despite the distinctive sheen of a lullaby floating between him and Legend, Sky looking suspiciously drowsy as well. The sky-borne knight received a gimlet look from their eldest, Sky wavering uncertainly between giving into the nap or staying awake before he too laid back, curling around Legend with his bad arm tucked safely between them and drifting off too. The crooning call of the lullaby brushed peripherally over Hyrule but left him alone to watch over the peacefully slumbering pair. 

 

Hyrule sighed at the serene air falling easily in around them at last, fingers drifting farther over to brush feather light over Sky’s brow and feed a bright wash of healing magic into him. The wrenched muscles in his shoulder and arm slowly mended, strengthening the joint once more until it was mostly healed and past risk of reinjury. Hyrule exhaled slowly, letting his magic return once more to his core before carefully rising and moving towards the others lounging around peaceably. 

 

“You let him off pretty easy, there,” Wars said over his shoulder, tipping his head playfully to the side. His hair was still heedlessly mussed where he’d taken off the dripping chainmail that was currently being slung over a makeshift laundry line of rope alongside the rest of the Chain’s damp gear piled at his feet. It was an ongoing attempt to keep some clothes dry, what with them moving in and out of the waters, and it was… moderately successful, through no lack of effort on Warriors’ and Twilight’s parts. 

 

Hyrule rolled his eyes, despairing, as usual, of talking any sense into his headstrong predecessor. Legend may be fond of him and grant him more freedoms than the others, but there was no changing the Vet’s stubbornness once he’d made up his mind. “He was all but asleep anyways- it’d be like trying to talk to Sky at dawn, and just as productive,” Hyrule said, which was really just a nice way of saying he’d taken the loss to save everyone time and frustration. He glanced around camp but everyone was settled, Time and Wind trying to rustle up a decent lunch, gear being taken care of, Twi and Four and Wild in the water. 

 

The Traveller prodded at his magic and began dutifully stripping his damp boots and socks off. He moved around the edge of the spring, brushing through the bordering wave of reeds and advancing up the slope of tall grass to settle above the first low ring of falls, letting his feet dip into the water rushing over the edge there. From here he could see everyone easily, and the entrance beyond them too. 

 

He finally let himself relax, slowly, into the welcoming warmth of Faron’s power. Natural magic, neutral magic, untinted enough to flow readily into the heroes sheltering there and bolster their reserves, heal their injuries. People’s magic was too unique to be used to donate to others or supplement their reserves- no matter how much he tried, he could not filter out that which made his magic his when it was not an aspect he could sense. It was like imagining what one’s voice sounded like to others, or what his face looked like unreflected- they just weren’t things he could ever perceive because he could never be outside himself in that way. 

 

But natural magic, like that here at the spring or at fairy fountains- that was of the earth, made to be adapted by its varied life forms and utilized, if one only took the time to absorb it. Locations like this let that power concentrate and well up, made it accessible; not a ley line, but a similar concept. Magic replenishing potions worked off a similar concept, though they were an imperfect replication; they rejuvenated, but the power they granted felt artificial, was less responsive until the drinker’s system had time to assimilate it. 

 

The lower the drinker’s own magic was, the longer that took, the ratio of their own magic to the neutral addition very much affecting how much time was needed until the magic pool was properly ‘theirs’ once more. It’s why there was an upper limit to them as there was to healing potions, though for different reasons, and why the two potions couldn’t be used in conjunction to solve one another’s downsides.

 

Healing potions used magic to fuel their properties, and imbibing too many risked emptying the drinker of the energy they needed to survive- Wild was a textbook example of this. The larger the magic source the more potions it took, but it was inevitable if one ignored the warnings and symptoms and continued the downward cycle of back-to-back injury and healing. 

 

Magic replenishing potions were an artificial power boost, but though they’re blank enough to be accepted by anyone’s system, they cannot wholly replace it. Too many diluted the user’s magical fingerprint within their power, and when too much is used and swapped for the artificial energy their system stops recognizing it as theirs and reacts appropriately. If Hyrule were to try to give Legend his magic it would fail harmlessly; the Vet’s system would simply not accept it, his power lost to the atmosphere before it ever sunk into the other’s body. But this was different- the system already has the artificial addition inside it, and as soon as soon as it stops registering the diluted energy as belonging - 

 

An implosion, more or less. Self destruction on a purely magical level. A clean death to all but those with magic enough to sense the remnants of agony in the shattered energy around the body. Hyrule’s never seen a ghost, but this is the closest he’s ever come to it: an imprint of suffering and fear and inevitable destruction branded into the earth and air by the brutal death. 

 

There were warnings for this, too, but they were purely magical in nature. Unless one could sense their power, catch the first uneasy shiftings of their energy, they should never, ever use more than one. Generally anyone who was at risk of using up so much magic as to need a replenishing potion was inherently skilled enough to tell when they were approaching that dangerous imbalance, but there were always exceptions, and Hyrule already suspected Wild might be one of them. They would not be giving Wild any green potion for this exact reason for a long while, not until he had enough reserves of his own magic built up for it to be safe.

 

But those worries were more distant, now. The urgency was bleeding steadily away as Wild’s condition shifted slowly towards improving. The spring’s magic was meant to be used, took on its host’s unique imprint easily instead of diluting it as potions did. Something about it bypassed the inherent pitfalls of the potions, for all that it was a slower fix. 

 

They had time, though, hopefully. The Goddess had brought them here, and he could only trust she wouldn't’ take them away before Wild was ready. There was no danger here, not for any of them. 

 

Hyrule settled in to watch the others relax, and let the peace sink slowly into him, too. 

 

------------------------------------------------

 

It didn’t take long at all for the last of the injuries from the bridge to fully heal, thanks to the spring. 

 

It did take longer for Legend to get back on his feet though, for all that he did an eerily good job of hiding his weakness in the meantime. Hyrule didn’t say anything,, but he did hover determinedly near the other as Legend proceeded to pretend everything was fine with equal tenacity. Time, however, was ruthless in shutting down Legend’s attempts to prove he wasn’t still weak-kneed and easily tired, and for all his sputtering his predecessor didn’t stand a chance against Twi and Sky’s eager herding back to the camp to be industrious while sitting, Vet, it’s no less helpful and you have nothing to prove, ye gods . 

 

They were all shit patients, but Legend certainly was close to topping the list. 

 

Considering all the trouble he’d given them, he’d expected Wild to give them more grief too, and had mixed feelings about how that ended up panning out. 

 

Because Wild was both better and worse than he’d expected. What trouble he gave them was from tripped triggers, delirious panic that none of them could blame him for, not when those attacks left him shaking and crying out, struggling to the ends of his energy before collapsing, the soulbond seeping with terror and agony. Four had managed to eke out something of an explanation, and they’d found that covering Wild’s eyes at night could stop the worst of the attacks from occurring. Contact helped too, so long as it was in no way a restraint- Wild’s fear was centered around being taken into some kind of shrine and left there, and so long as he knew he wasn’t alone he could parse reality from whatever memories tried to haunt him. 

 

If the Chain was clingy before this, it had nothing on how cuddly they were after that revelation.

 

During the day and within their arms, though, the Champion was a peaceful, easy patient, and it was that, ironically, which bothered Hyrule most. Because the compliance was born of nothing but exhaustion and illness, Wild too weak to do anything but follow their requests, faithfully letting them take care of everything. Hyrule could feel the trust he had in them, even when he was so delirious that he knew nothing of them but the bond between their souls. It was as heartbreaking as it was heartening, that the blind trust was there and tried so harshly at all. 

 

Hyrule didn’t know as much as the others did of Wild’s natural disposition. Most of the time he’d spent with him the Champion had been suffering from injury and heatstroke, through the desert and in the recovery thereafter, and even when he’d finally spoken to a lucid Wild the other had been harried and stressed. 

 

He knew this wasn’t right, though. In the desert Wild had been meek and trusting, but he’d also been utterly heat-dazzled, the emotions Hyrule could feel all but fraying at the edges of a dazed mind, warped. It was the same now; across the soulbond Wild was unnervingly one noted, his mind sluggish and slow to respond to changes around him. It was getting better- it had been two days, now, and the feverish cycling unconsciousness had finally begun to give way to proper rest. 

 

It meant Wild was more often asleep than anything else, but Hyrule would take anything over the desperate unease, the inconsolable delusions. His magic was slowly, slowly refilling, and with that came some reprieve from the unbreakable chill of his body, the terrible sense of fragility. 

 

What wasn’t improving so markedly was the damage wrought by the flood of potions he’d inflicted upon his body. Whatever strength Wild may have gained as his magic replenished was lost to dehydration and malnutrition, his tolerance for food still worryingly low. Hyrule hated how familiar the illness was now, hated how hard it was to muster anything but resignation and dampened dismay every time Wild was unable to keep water down. 

 

Hated how many times he’d seen the same skeletal frame in his own timeline, how he’d seen all too often others who had gone too long without to save. He knew the weakness that came with starvation first hand, the dizzy frailty and desperation that came with knowing what the problem was and being unable to stop it because there was no food to be had, no water that wasn’t poison, no person to trade with who wasn’t a monster trying to draw him near- 

 

This was almost worse, though, because the problem here wasn’t a want of supplies, but Wild’s own body, wrecked by rampant abuse to the point of near nonexistent function. It was not hopeless, just harrowing, and the repeated failures as they fought for the water to settle in Wild’s ravaged system sapped him of any energy to do much else. He would be concerned about ruining the Champion’s perception of food except that the other hero was seldom aware, primarily just blankly exhausted as he chased after the water with a whimper. 

 

Hyrule wondered how much of this Wild would remember. Watching the Champion keen and feebly heave up bloodied water once more, he hoped it wasn’t much. There wasn’t anything to be done for the physical damage in the stomach- he’d healed it time and time again, but the knot of misguided magic left by the potions only continually wrought its damage anew, tangled there until it faded on its own. Wild subsided into abject misery once more, defeat hanging heavy over the brightness of the illuminated water.

 

And then, in a sudden burst of trumpet calls and solar flares, there was abruptly a large, magical creature swooping into existence above the center of the spring, too close to Wild for Hyrule’s racing heart. It didn’t matter that they did not feel malicious- they felt old, and fey, and that was enough to make him wary, for aged magical creatures did not always play nicely with mortals. 

 

They were supposedly benevolent, but then again Wild had been vomiting into their waters many, many times now, and Hyrule knows that at least one of them has peed in there at some point; between all that and Wind’s mouth, there was plenty that could have offended the creature. 

 

Twilight had told them of Faron, but even so there was no preparing to actually see them in their full glory, alien and yet familiar in the way all natural beings of power were. They did not sing as the Great Fairies did, but pulsed in sub sonic thrumming like the heartbeat of a distant star. A mightiness that was muted, and the words that flowed into Hyrule’s mind were smooth in contrast to the wild drum of Faron’s presence. 

 

Wind braced himself as if for a fight, sharp eyes narrowing on the spirit’s languid floating form suspiciously. “ He’s still not better,” he said with all the blatant, righteous disrespect of youth, and Hyrule cringed, feeling the weight of uncountable years shored up within Faron. 

 

And yet, the spirit was distinctly smug, its tail wagging slightly where it arched above. “ He may not be hale, oh youth, but the Hero of the Wild may leave these waters now without ill consequence, now, and that is certainly better than before.”

 

Wind’s eyes narrowed, and, heedless of Warriors hand falling on his shoulder, he stabbed a finger at the spirit. “You know what I mean,” he said flatly, but his anger subsided somewhat as the words sunk in. 

 

Wars hip checked him, and when those dark eyes turned their glare onto him only cocked an eyebrow disbelievingly. Wind crossed his arms, caught between pride and courtesy, eyes darting over to Wild- currently unconscious and shaky from not having kept anything down yet this morning. Their youngest did not take his eyes from the Champion, his voice quieter but no less challenging. “He’s got enough magic back to be safe? Even if he left now and didn’t return to the spring?” 

 

“He would be in no danger ,” Faron assured, voice patient. “He will still recover fastest here, but it is not the necessity it was. I felt your fear lingering- there is no need for it any longer, not for this.”

 

“But he is still sick,” Hyrule interjected, stepping forward with wide, beseeching eyes. “How can we not be afraid when he can’t keep food down to regain his strength?” He hoped for a solution from the spirit, some trick or quest or ingredient that could help, even though he already knows Faron would have offered it if such a thing existed.

 

Faron’s features did not move but there was something soft about it, their heartbeat pulsing comforting. “It will come with time, little wanderer. Your wildling consigned himself to a difficult, long recovery, but he has passed beyond death’s reach from his choices. This will not take him from you ,” the spirit said, and it wasn’t what he wanted, but Hyrule had needed to hear this, and he felt his eyes well up with tears. Coming from Faron, whose presence was anchored in a site of healing, it meant everything- they had been brutally honest about Wild’s chances of survival a few days ago, so to say this with such confidence was an unspoken promise that Hyrule could trust. 

 

This would not kill Wild, in spite of everything. He’d been dreading a portal that could spell the Champion’s death, and Hyrule could finally let that fear go, could look upon Wild without wondering if one wrong move wouldn’t still undo everything. 

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, and it was echoed by Wind, who spoke with much more certainty. The sailor’s arms had dropped to his side, his furrowed brows softening. 

 

 “I mean it, Faron,” the Sailor continued, and Hyrule is fairly sure the reluctance in his voice  is solely from his own embarrassment from being too brash earlier. “Without you Wild wouldn’t be here, miserable or not. It… means a lot to us.” He looked down, and Wars shifted closer, an arm coming around the smaller hero. Wind spoke softly, painfully honest as he peered through his lashes up at the spirit.  “It means everything to have him here. So- thank you.” 

 

“ My help does not depend on your gratitude, hero, but it is nice to remain in your good favor ,” Faron said, their tone neutral still but somehow radiating soft humor. Then they lifted their head, looking out towards Twilight and the others. “ I know you fear being taken away before your friend is healed, but be assured; your next departure will not spell his doom. ” And with that, the spirit bobbed higher, straightening slightly from their curl around the orb of light. Their glow brightened in preparation for their departure, only for Warriors to splash a step forward, his voice overlapping with Twilight’s call.   

 

“Wait! Before you leave, Faron, please- do you know anything of the dark creature we hunt, the monsters we fight? This forest is under your protection- you must have felt them here and known them to be wrong .” The Rancher did not leave the shore to enter the spring, but Faron seemed not to mind. 

 

“ I know them to be unnatural ,” the spirit agreed. “ Just as I recognize that your companions hark from other times. I cannot say what the dark beast’s intentions are, though, only that the more damage wrought by the creatures outside their own worlds the further each timeline destabilizes. If it fractures chaos will abound, and beside it many opportunities open up for those who seek to break fundamental rules of existence otherwise untouchable. Your hero of Warriors knows this risk well, as does the one who altered time itself .” That tail gestured with a lazy flick to the Captain and Time before swaying back in place.

 

“Is there any way to stop it? Or to better track it? All we have now are the portals, and they too only seem only to be following in its wake,” Warriors said, everything about his posture alert and composed despite how Hyrule could feel the Captain’s mind buzzing , agitated as a kicked hornet’s nest at the thought of anything like the War of Eras unfolding once more. 

 

“If there is I do not know it- time magic is not mine to control. But I will say this,” Faron said, and the next words resonated with power deeper than a mere warning warranted. “ It is not within the power of the goddess who sends these portals to assure your victory, so do not wait for her to do so. There is a reason she called so many heroes together, and it says nothing well of the powers you must face. So be well, heroes, and be clever and strong and swift. ” 

 

Faron glowed, the light that made their fur swirling and brightening. “ More depends on it than you know, ” they intoned, haunting as whalesong. Before the words had faded from their minds there was a sharp clash of sun-shard light and consumptive darkness, a collective flinch away by all the heroes there. 

 

And with that, Faron was gone. 

 

Needless to say, it was not until the next day that any kind of peaceful atmosphere returned to the spring. 

 

---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

While they were left with a panicking Warriors and troubled Time, Faron’s visit did provide some relief, for all the newfound stress they delivered to the group. It was only thanks to their consideration that when the portal popped up the next day it did not cause mass panic. That is not to say the heroes were not still wary of it- not only for the possible threat it posed the still- weak Wild, but also in how it marked the end of their time in the safety of the spring. This was a security they weren’t always afforded, a sanctuary when they’d needed it most. They still needed it, really, but it seemed there was no more time to spare here, not even for Wild’s sake. What worried Hyrule most was that the Chain was not often dropped close to the monsters they were sent to kill, and he already knew one of their long, relentless traveling trips would be hard on the Champion. 

 

At least he knew by Faron’s judgement that Wild was no longer so fragile as to be endangered by it.

 

But for all that they wished to remain here in the bright, healing waters none of them wanted to linger long enough to find out if the pressing impatience of the portal did Wild more harm than whatever awaited on the other side. Though, if there was one benefit to the portal’s arrival, it was that at least Legend would stop messing around in the water- he seemed to have taken the spring’s poor effect on his magic as a challenge instead of a deterrent like most sane people would have. He’d thoughtfully given himself a day and then done his best to wander back in, resulting in something of a showdown between him and Wars and Twilight as they continually plucked the Vet out of the shallows or chased him off of sneaking in at the edges. It was not unlike dealing with a criminalistic cat determined to get into its owner’s food, the hissing, dripping hylian really locking the metaphor in. 

 

But no one has managed to outstubborn Legend yet, and finally even those two gave up trying to stop him from doing what he wanted. Hyrule just watched the whole time- Legend had talked to him first, insisting that he could manage the push-pull effect so long as he had enough of his own magic back. He’d likened it to waves in the deep versus along the shallow shore, one ruffling the sediment at the bottom and the other unaffected with the buffer of volume between the turmoil. 

 

Hyrule had been skeptical, but Four had nodded along and agreed, and even helped harry Twi and Warriors in the name of Legend trying out the theory. He’d still supervised, hovering over Legend as he moved out of the water after a long soaking in case he fainted again, pleased and when the Vet fared just fine this time, sharing in the pride Legend radiated at the success. He’d immediately gone and spoken voraciously with Four, and then promptly gone back for a second go, and it may have worked but holy goddess Legend slow down, come on, ease into it a little, would you? 

 

But Legend’s curiosity would not be sated, and even if he’d not managed to entirely escape the dizzying feeling of his magic circulating, then he’d at least mitigated it enough to reap the spring’s rejuvenating effects and come out at a magical gain. Though by the sly look he sent Hyrule, he was proudest of the fact that the Traveller and Twi and Wars no longer had a valid reason to stop him once he’d proven he could handle it now. 

 

Ugh. 

 

The Traveller washed his hands of the whole damn ordeal, honestly. So long as Legend wasn’t hurting himself past the vaguely defined threshold of stupid shit the Chain does for fun to pass the time , he wasn’t going to get involved. 

 

(“Favoritism” Wars accused, shaking a finger at him as he stalked back to the campfire, dripping as Legend victoriously prancing in the water behind him. 

 

Hyrule gasped. “I would never ! And it wouldn’t be Legend, are you kidding?” In the spring Legend spun to a stop, jaw dropping, and to the side Wind wheezed a laugh, fumbling for his pictobox. Hyrule adamantly ignored it in favor of defending his honor from being besmirched by affection towards the obnoxious bokoblin messing around in the water. 

 

Twilight shook his head at his denial. “Oh Rule, it’s even sadder that you don’t know. You poor thing.”

 

Hyrule huffed, but found he had to tweak his argument to keep it honest. “He gets the same exceptions you all do- he’d just not afraid to ask for them,” he said, ears pinning back in a pout. 

 

Twilight’s mouth opened, then closed. He squinted in thought for a moment before falling onto his back with an exhale. “Alright, point- no one pushes the limits quite like he does.”)

 

It was a welcome surprise to find that their panic over Wild having no clue what was going on turned out to be premature. For all that he’d seemed hopelessly lost whilst being subjected to Four and Warriors’ explanation, after another day’s improvement and upon a group-wide second attempt they found -after a bit more miscommunicative fumbling- that he’d remembered or sussed out most of it and shrugged off the rest as ‘ Probably fine, if you guys are involved ’. Which raised concerns on Hyrule’s part for the abundance of trauma that he’d hoped would be lost to Wild’s delirium, but at least explained some of the Champion’s calm and trust.

 

That’s not to say Wild had it all right, of course. He hand-waved his way through a vague summary of how they were from one of the bordering kingdoms wanting him to tag along for his name, which somehow seemed to make perfect sense to him. Wild had smiled wryly at their conflicted expressions, settling snugly into Sky’s shoulder. “It’s wrong, then?”

 

“It’s as close to correct as you could have gotten on your own,” Four said generously. 

 

“Well, go on then-” Wild waved a hand, blinking sleepily at them. “Fill me in, it can’t be that bad.” And before Faron’s ominous warning it hadn’t seemed so different from their own individual adventures, though it was ridiculous. In some ways it was even better, having company and comrades to share the burden and have each other’s backs. It didn’t take long to explain what, exactly, the portals were doing, nor the extent of the mostly mysterious mission they’d all been called upon, and Wild took it possibly the best out of all of them, though whether that was due to his temperament and view of duty or the fact he was possibly too tired to panic or freak out any more was… difficult to discern. He’d listened with something like wide-eyed wonder, still a little loopy, but there hadn’t been a flicker of doubt in his mind. 

 

(“Right so… we’re not foreigners, not like you think. Heroes, though, yes, but also not like you think. We’re other reincarnations of the Hero’s spirit from varied timelines and eras, brought through time and space by Hylia for a purpose we’re not quite sure of yet.” 

 

“Holy shit, no way. No way .”

 

“Oh, I’m not even done yet. Listen to this- )

 

So Wild knew some of what to expect from the portal, at least. He was fascinated with it, which was something of a relief- Hyrule had worried some of their panic would rub off on Wild, but the Champion seemed avidly curious. He could even have been a little more concerned, really, since the last portal had coincided with his death, but it wasn’t Hyrule’s place to say that Wild was coping too well with that particular trauma. 

 

They went through in groups. Four, as always, was placed with one of the stronger members who could more easily carry him if he ended up unconscious or nonambulatory on the other side- an unfortunately not uncommon outcome for the little hero. For all his hypothesizing that going through split into his Colors would help, with Wild still down Four declined to test it out here, quoting that having five unconscious bodies at once would be ‘a lot’. Hyrule frowned, thinking how miserable Four always was in the hour or two after the portal at least , but it was the Smithy’s decision to make. 

 

Wild went last with him and Twilight, their best healer and strongest defender. Hyrule passed through the dizzying nothingness of the portal, caught for a long moment in the peaceful silence of the space between worlds, and stepped out to bright mid morning light, the sun having backed up a few hours in the robin egg blue sky above. The magic in this world fairly twinkled , all brilliant flashes and jangling bells, lovely and overwhelming all at once. 

 

It was not unlike going from the silence and peace of floating underwater straight into the chatter and music layered, color spattered heart of a festival in full swing. 

 

Warriors or Four’s world, then- theirs were by far the loudest, and the onslaught -colorful and glitteringly gorgeous and vivid as it was- produced an instant headache. Hyrule winced, his step stuttering as the portal closed behind him, the void immediately filled with more fluting, racing music. He drew his magic in on reflex, but there was no turning off his awareness of it entirely. 

 

His stumble didn’t go unnoticed- Twilight glanced over at him, and Legend was immediately at his side, grasping his elbow to steady him. This was a familiar song and dance, and one he was well used to coping with, though it was always harder to move between one of the slower, quieter worlds to one of the more… hyper options. He waited patiently for the spinning to slow, for his magic to settle a little, content to use the Vet to stay steady and upright and pretend he was just admiring the view and trying to puzzle out who’s forest this was like the others. It took only a few seconds for the dizziness, at least, to fade, then Hyrule gave Legend’s hand an unconscious reassuring pat as he moved to look at Wild, opting to ignore the sudden shakiness of his hands as his magic continued to acclimate to the bouncing, frenetic energy around him. 

 

Wild was, unsurprisingly, unconscious. Hyrule had expected as much- weak as he was, pretty much any kind of stressor, even one as harmless as the portals, was all but guaranteed to knock out his tenuous grip on consciousness. The Champion was stable though, his coloring and pulse still as alright as they were back at the spring. 

 

Sweet victory.

 

Hyrule straightened up, head tipping to the side unconsciously as a stab of pain slid into his temple, ear pinning back on that side and eye wincing half shut before returning to normal as it passed into sharp throbbing. It wouldn’t last long, but it was a literal pain until then. He turned and sent a beaming smile to the others, letting his cheery demeanor do all the talking.  

 

The others relaxed at his obvious satisfaction with Wild’s state of health, and Hyrule instinctively turned his eyes towards Four next, because if Wars hadn’t called out this world as his the Smithy should have spoken up by now to claim it if able, and he’d been utterly silent. One look confirmed why: the diminutive hero was still standing, fortunately, but only by virtue of leaning heavily into Sky’s hip, arms slack at his sides as his sides heaved with jagged breaths. 

 

Hyrule met Sky’s eyes, ears pricking in a question as he turned to them, even knowing he couldn’t do anything to help. The world tipped a little as he moved, and he must have swayed by the way Legend’s grip on his arm -oh, he was still there at Hyrule’s side, looking grumpier than usual- tightened and drew up a little. Hyrule sent him an easy look, breezily assuring, “Just a bad switch, Ledge, it’ll pass!” before stopping delicately at Four’s side.  

 

Sky gave a weak smile, tipping his hand in a silent so-so motion as the other rubbed Four’s back. The Smithy cracked open an eye, the iron gray of it glinting with iridescence in the sun as he wrangled a strained smile onto his face for Hyrule. “You going to make it, Four?” Legend asked, though the briskness was betrayed by the tamped volume of his voice in consideration to the headache that seemed to be afflicting Four. Not a migraine, though, by the Smithy’s willingness to face the sun and survey him back, straightening a little and looking vaguely nauseous as a result.

 

“I will- lunch might not,” Four said glumly, but gathered himself all the same, though he didn’t shake off Sky’s arm around him. Not all that bad a jump then, all told- Wild was no worse than before, Four was still conscious, Hyrule’s head and balance were only a bit wonky still-

 

Twilight’s head twitched up, and there was a smooth shing as Wars drew his sword, his body perking into alertness where he had been scanning the trees around them. “Monsters! Circle up!” He barked, voice clear and loud as he backed up fast, herding Sky and Four closer to the others as he drew his shield. For a moment Hyrule couldn’t see anything at all, but then he caught sight of the child-sized forms suddenly flitting through the trees around them, having swarmed the forest around them all at once. It was impossible to gauge how many there were amongst the trees and brush along the road, only that there were a lot and they were fast . The Chain scrambled to close ranks around Wild, Twi and Four, but at Warriors’ warning and the answering flurry of movement the darting creatures emerged to attack, and they were far quicker than the ambushed heroes were. 

 

Hyrule slanted his sword just in time to avoid getting a knife to the gut, the small, fox-like monster chittering a high, menacing laugh as it was shoved back by him. They stood only as high as Four and moved just as devilishly fast, swarming around the stronger heroes and stabbing at them, their numbers and speed stirring just enough chaos to make grouping up difficult without getting a blade in the back. From the corner of his eye he saw Legend flat out punt one of the little creatures away as he sliced another with deadly precision, saw its blade carve right through his predecessor’s protective charms and across his thigh before it was sent flying. 

 

He shifted the grip on his own sword, and with a deceptive twirl of the blade managed to maim one of the fox creature’s legs and cut it down. Hyrule glanced around as he caught another swipe on his shield, assessing who needed help- Legend, for all the blood coating his leg, was zipping around on his pegasus boots and taking out one of the little monsters with a snarl on his face. Time and Sky were bracketing Four and Twilight, whose arms were full with Wild. Wind was parrying knife blows with enviable ease as he danced amongst a group of the fox-creature, and Warriors was using his fire rod to keep a line of defense around the group’s backs. Any of the monsters who wished to attack were forced to circle around and face Time and Sky and Wind if they wanted to get to the weaker prey at the center of the heroes’ ring.  Four was standing but unsteady, and it was all too easy to see he was not going to be moving anywhere near fast enough to face the quick-footed foxes without injury. 

 

And then Hyrule had to focus on his own enemies, the familiar swift flicks of his blade suddenly sluggish and unresponsive as he struggled to land a blow to the monsters chittering around him on darting feet. Then, a gap between fire bursts, a couple of figures visible through the blaze, dark and swaying and blobby- chuchus. Hyrule wrote them off in favor of basically backhanding a little fox, unconcerned with the harmless gels when there was fire between them. 

 

Except Four shrieked a warning, jolting to reach for Warriors as a hand fumbled for his shield, and a series of whistling sounds suddenly whispered out under the clanging of blades and pattering feet. 

 

Spikes flew through the fire, expelled like shrapnel from the odd chuchus. Hyrule ducked and nearly lost his footing as the world wobbled at the quick movement, only barely managing to unconsciously bring his sword up, something metallic clanging off its blade and ricocheting with a flash of reflected light. He staggered, a knife skimming harmlessly through his tunic as his heart pounded in his ears, the odd, off feeling of a new world still plaguing him despite the adrenaline. There was a shout, and then a boomerang was spinning through the air to strike both of the strange chus, dazing them. Warriors immediately abandoned the fire rod; most of the remaining foxes were trapped between Legend and Sky anyways. The Captain instead loped forward, one smooth flowing sword strike dispatching both the chuchus before they could regrow their spikes. A blur of attacks that Hyrule didn’t track all that well, and then he was blinking at empty road as  feeling shaky  

 

The whole ordeal lasted maybe two minutes, tops, but the heroes didn’t escape unscathed. 

 

Four was down, and Hyrule ran to him, trusting the others to let him know if anyone else was in danger. Warriors was at his side, trying to steady the Smithy as Four shook, hands hovering helplessly over the spike stabbed near his hip.

 

“It didn’t go all the way through,” Wars told him, and Hyrule glanced to the side at one of the spikes on the ground, gauging its size to tell how far Four had been impaled. “Think we can get him to drink a potion after it's out?”

 

They both looked at Four, awake but pain dazed and shocky, breathing in tight, shallow gasps. Hyrule winced. “We can try,” he said uncertainly. “On three?” He shared a glance with Wind, who’d settled at Four’s feet to help keep the Smithy from struggling. 

 

Warriors grasped the spike above the blood, leather gripping securely on the smooth surface. He inhaled smoothly before counting off, Hyrule holding down Four’s shoulders. With a grunt and a wet sucking sound the projectile came free, Four letting out a horrible choked off sound as he jolted under their hands. Blood welled up immediately, already having soaked the red quadrant of his tunic and seeping gradually into the green above it. Wars was already moving to apply pressure, and this time Four’s cry rang out, his eyes screwed shut in pain even as Hyrule carefully lifted his head for the potion. The Smithy’s eyes stayed closed, but thankfully his lips parted for the potion, the agonized draw of his body steadily relaxing as his color improved. 

 

Hyrule couldn’t linger, though, not when Wars could handle Four on his own now and he knows there are other injuries. There were several stab wounds from the fleet footed keatons -and oh, but Time looked almost disturbed as he nudged one of the slowly disintegrating bodies, his mind rippling with bemusement? Amusement? Confusion? 

 

Twilight had two thankfully shallow pokes in his back from where he’d surely taken the blow in Wild’s place, the Champion showing no signs of having been affected at all by the messy skirmish. Legend’s leg had the nasty slash Hyrule had seen him take, slicing deep into the muscle- that one was sure to be sore for a day or two regardless of accelerated healing. 

 

There would be no immediate respite from travel for the Vet either, not when Four finally roused enough to proclaim this his world, and his house close but only in the ‘several hours walk’ kind of way. Hyrule knew Legend could power through it, and even if he couldn’t he’d damn well try, if only to reclaim his sense of badassery after showing so much weakness in the last week. 

 

Honestly. 

 

But like it or not, there was nothing Hyrule could do but ensure everyone was as good as he could make them before they continued on up the road. The woods here were loud and lush, the chatter of wildlife picking up once they moved on, a constant and ever changing backdrop to the subtle padding of boots on worn dirt. Four had gradually perked up as the portal sickness wore off, and Hyrule had acclimated to the jangling celebration of song and light and motion that imbued this world’s magic. 

 

The ambush had taken them by surprise earlier; usually portals dropped them off somewhere safe and secure, not in the middle of danger. They’d been unprepared for monsters, especially those as quick as the keatons, given no time to properly regroup. 

 

This time though, they heard the monsters approaching, were present to catch the hush falling over the bustling forestlife. Whatever it was wasn’t bothering with subtly, not like the sneaky woodland approach of the keaton pack. Twi lifted his face, nostrils flaring, cocking his head a little. “At least two different kinds of monster,” he said with furrowed brows as the Chain moved into position, “I don’t know what, though- they’re none of mine this time.” 

 

By now Wild had been handed off to Time, having worryingly barely roused at all in the few hours since they’d arrived. The Old Man was shuffled to the back of the group, the monsters advancing up the road with no sign of any additional forces attempting to bracket them up along the forest beside them. The monster pack came into view, just as unsurprised to see the heroes as the Chain was to finally face them. 

 

“Those are moblins, tough but not too terrible. No particular trick to fighting them, though they’re a bit slow and easy to circle around if you’re quick,” Four said. This variety of the monster were bulky, muscled things wielding bows and spears, pig snouted in the vaguely familiar way all their moblins were. 

 

The others, though- “Darknuts,” Wind said darkly, a serious frown marring his face. “They hit hard and fast. The armor can be knocked off from behind, but they know that and’ll spin attack you if you’re not fast enough and don’t catch ‘em off guard.”

 

Not one of the easier iterations of the darknuts, then. Wonderful.

 

They were tall and moved gracefully, with canine heads and towering physiques shielded by plate armor that did nothing to hinder their movements. They wielded claymores with dangerous ease as they prowled behind the moblins, flat crimson eyes fixed on the heroes squaring up before them. Both groups came to a stop, silence stretching the road between them, before the moblin archers raised their bows at an unspoken signal and released the first volley of arrows as the other monsters came charging in. 

 

The Chain was no stranger to attacks like this, though the mix of long and close range was always unfortunate. If there was one bright side, really , Hyrule thought, it’s that there were no more keatons or spike chuchus added to this mix , because the last thing they needed was an explosive enemy and something fast underfoot while they were dodging the heavy, dangerous hits from the darknuts or moblins. 

 

Hyrule settled into his stance, thanked the fates for small kindnesses, and fell into the battle. 

 

They managed to avoid any injuries in the first volley, the arrowheads pinging cleanly off of the hero’s upraised shields. Twilight’s boomerang spun out, lightly stunning the frontline of moblins and slowing the group, giving Wind open opportunity to pepper them with explosive arrows as a one up. In the wake of that barrage the Chain moved on the monsters, Hyrule striking down a dazed and smoking moblin before it could wield its lance fast enough to ward him off. Beside him Wars forced another moblin to stumble back with a brutal blow of his sword, hampering the darknut behind it as the greater monster tried to raise its claymore against them. 

 

Another whirl of the boomerang passed over them, once more clipping the darknuts as they barked out vicious curse-like snarls, one’s attempt to smack it away thwarted by the wild wind gust that forced it to cover its eyes as smoke assaulted them. Hyrule was forced to draw short his finishing blow on the downed monster, raising his shield as a second moblin tried to capitalize on his distraction with a brutal stab of its spear. 

 

The weapon was nothing special but for the sheer force of the muscle behind it; the blow knocked Hyrule back a step, his elbow brushing Wars behind him. A flicker of awareness from the other, and as Rule took advantage of the slow recovery time inherent in a long range weapon being wielded in tight fighting quarters the Captain freed up long enough to dispatch the moblin at their feet before it could cripple them. Another few slices and then he was being drawn back by a light hand on his arm. 

 

Hyrule blinked some of the battle haze from his eyes, heart pumping with adrenaline and shared cool focus-grim determination-familiar steps buzzing subtly from the others’ minds, their songs a throbbing, thrilling drumbeat. He didn’t leave the mindset yet, though- the moblins had been thoroughly weeded out, but there were two darknuts still in play, mostly untouched for all that they weren’t managing any damage to the heroes. One was locked sword in sword with Time, the Old Man on the defensive against the monster’s superior strength but only needing to hold out long enough for the flowing strike Sky was executing to land. 

 

The Traveller  looked away, moving to shield Warriors from a moblin while the Captain faced the other darknut, Legend at his side with gleaming eyes.

 

A handful of seconds and the moblin was dying under Hyrule’s sword, the Captain and Legend still managing the large darknut with relative ease. A single archer moblin was still harrying the heroes, and Hyrule inserted himself between it and the battle ongoing behind him to intercept any shots, trusting Legend not to let him get taken out by a claymore to the back. Four was already right there to take the bow-wielding moblin down, but there was an arrow on the string and the monster swung the bow around wildly as it tried to decide between Hyrule and Four as its final target, resigned to death and determined to take someone with it. 

 

“Sky!” Time barked, something like desperation in the single cell of sound. Hyrule twitched but didn’t look , watching the archer’s shot fly free and lunging to knock it away with his shield before it could pass beside him. 

 

An agonized scream cut through the battle, and Hyrule knew Sky hadn’t managed to avoid whatever he’d been warned of, heart racing as he immediately latched onto the other’s spirit, the painpainpanic jittering behind the muted bond. The moblin archer’s bow broke under Four’s downward slice and Hyrule turned, eyes snagging on Time circling the still-standing but bloodied darknut, on Wind gutting a disarmed moblin, on Sky, sprawled upon his stomach on the ground, blood pulsing from a large wound upon his shoulder blade.

 

There was a bloodied spear discarded nearby where it had been ripped from him. 

 

He moved, and Time’s darknut caught his approach and tried to stop it. The Old Man was knocked to one knee as he attempted to intercept it, but the attention the monster gave to forcing him down was enough for Hyrule to take the time to charge up his sword. He broke from his headlong sprint just enough to stutter his steps into the careful footwork Warriors had ingrained in him for moving attacks once he’d found out Hyrule preferred them, spinning and glancing the monster’s backhanded sword strike off his shield before discharging his attack up and under the joint of the darknut’s armpit. 

 

There was a splurt of dark blood, and another as he ripped his sword free, but Hyrule was already moving away, Time already rising to his feet again to finish off the exsanguinating monster bleeding out from the half-destroyed heart he’d left behind. 

 

Hyrule skidded to a stop by Sky, Wind already shuffling around for a potion. The Traveller put a hand on Sky’s side to stabilize him, eyes darting over the deep, gaping hole high on his back before twitching as Wind moved towards their prone companion. “Don’t move him!” he ordered, and Wind hadn’t yet been trying to shift Sky to drink but jerked away regardless, the potion bottle clamped in his hand as he let Hyrule take charge without complaint, instead glancing around paranoiacally to ensure the area was safe. 

 

Sky was awake but only barely , his eyes half lidded and blinking frenetically as he made no move to remove his cheek where it was smushed into the dirt or shift off his stomach. There was something wrong with his breathing that the awkward turn of his head wasn’t helping, blood on his lips and rattling on the tail end of every breath, and the moment Hyrule’s magic sank into the other’s body the damage was laid out in excruciating, brutal detail.

 

A blow from above dealt with ruthless power, enough that it broke the thick shield of the scapula and penetrated through Sky’s shoulder at its strongest point, clipping the lung and breaking the collarbone as it stabbed out high on his chest. The strength it would have taken to pierce the shoulder blade alone was terrifying; at this angle, it could only have been done with Sky pinned prone upon the ground. Lower on his back there was bruising blooming over cracked and broken ribs, marking where the attacker’s foot had bore its considerable weight upon his brother to keep him down. 

 

The image made Hyrule seethe as his magic raced to heal the damage, sealing the severed, gushing artery and retracing nerves with agonizing precision and care, uncaring of the magical cost. A potion would take care of the muscles and bone, but it was the healing of the delicate components that full, wholly mobile recovery hinged on, and that was fairies’ specialty. It took pain-staking meticulousness and careful focus, but with this Sky would have full range of motion, no lost sensation, nothing left of whatever moment’s mishap had led to such a gruesome injury. 

 

It could so easily have been a crippling wound, leaving one of Sky’s arms all but useless. 

 

But it was not the first time Hyrule had dealt with damage that should have left one of the heroes maimed, and this was not going to be the time his magic failed him or his patient. He worked, listening to the skittering panic-riddled arpeggio around Sky fade into a smoother, less turbulent melody, the stifled fear gradually fading into heart-wrenching trust in Hyrule even as it began to wobble and waver from blood loss. He kept an eye on that, too, balancing each of Sky’s vitals as he tried to rush without ruining the delicate nerve work slowly healing under his attention. Hyrule tuned out his surroundings in favor of the friend he was pooling magic into, but kept the connection to Wind open, letting the Sailor keep watch over Sky and any complications outside of Hyrule’s focus.

 

Wind’s alarm never spiked, though, his worry gradually fading as Hyrule carefully drew along the path the spear had opened through Sky. He opened his eyes to a still gruesome wound under his hands, though the fearsome pulse of blood had slowed. “You can give him the potion now,” he said, letting his voice lilt around the words and soften them even as his tone remained utterly focused. “Slowly, though, and don’t sit him up- he’s lost too much blood not to faint.”  

 

And Time was there now too, his presence marking the end of the fight in the background. Together they gently turned Sky from his stomach to his side, tilting his head for the potion held in Wind’s steady grip. “Easy, Sky, there we are, slowly now,” Time murmured, and Sky remained calm in their care, compliant and trusting.

 

“Good job, Sky,” Wind said softly once the potion was gone, voice cheery and muted as he grasped the Skyloftian’s good hand and squeezed, face brightening when Sky squeezed back, eyes closed but pain slowly bleeding from his features. 

 

Hyrule followed along the potion’s magic as it worked, knitting together what he’d left for it. He watched that it did not interfere or undo his own efforts, prodding and guiding it a little but letting it do the hard work on its own, bone and muscle becoming whole once more. This time when he blinked his eyes open there was only scarred skin under his hands, blood smeared and fragile-fresh. Sky coughed out flecks of blood still, but a paranoid flush of magic proved it to be only the remnants of the injury, not a sign of lingering damage. 

 

“Okay,” Hyrule murmured, slowly letting himself relax. He began to reach for Sky’s free hand unconsciously, only to draw back at the sight of the blood drying upon his fingers. “It’s okay, you’re okay, Sky.” Just as much a reassurance to himself as the others, the panic at what could have been thrumming in at the edge of his thoughts now that he didn’t have adrenaline pushing it aside.

 

Sky just gave a shaky, relieved sigh, Wind bowing over him to give him a careful hug. Time settled a hand onto the Sailor’s back, the desperate, haunted look in his eye fading as he looked away from the two sprawled in his lap to smile at Hyrule, little more than a curve to his lips. Gratitude and pride radiating through the bond, rich olive and crisp minty green. 

 

It was, all told, not the worst a battle had ever gone- and wasn’t that a grim thought. Sky’s was the most serious injury, and he’d managed to escape with nothing but some blood loss and his sword arm consigned to a sling until the potion’s healing had time to settle the rest of its magic into his bones and muscles. Hyrule could practically hear the Captain’s anxiety ratcheting up at another fighter out of the running, and injured in such a way he couldn’t carry Wild, but Warriors didn’t say anything of it, only giving Sky an amicable pat upon his good arm, all relieved smiles. 

 

Fortunately, Four was confident they could still make it to the relative safety outside the woods by late afternoon if they continued, and traveling through towns arrive at his house before evening fell. It was a long walk with injured companions through forest proven to hold monsters already, but better to fight in the daylight than risk a night here in the woods. 

 

Twilight, with his keen senses, was put at the front alongside Hyrule. Warriors ended up with Wild for the first stretch, setting a slow, steady pace beside Sky. The Champion had remained unconscious through the whole fight and it's bloody aftermath; Hyrule suspected the decreased time spent awake was because he no longer had the fountain healing him, but couldn’t tell if it was him sliding into a decline or just his body compensating by resting more heavily than when it had the rejuvenating waters to bolster it. 

 

He hoped it was the latter. 

 

They headed out set to silent mode , as Wind called it. Hyrule hated silent mode, less for the quiet itself than that it was the default approach every time they were traveling in his world, that it was intertwined with paranoia and an air of unseen but present threat. The quiet and alertness brought back too many memories of doing the same on his own through dangerous, dark forests. It had been better, since he’d first gone through the portal and met the others, but times like this, where the companionship and camaraderie that set this adventure apart from the desperation and dismal hopelessness of his own travels was dimmed, were… hard.

 

Hyrule had always preferred to see the ways they bettered his life, rather than catch shadows of his own misery shared by them. 

 

But even silent mode and looming threat couldn’t entirely quell the Wind and Legend’s subtle shenanigans. Legend’s face was as over-expressive as always as Wind tried to mime a conversation with him, devolving into near-silent breathy hissing as communication inevitably failed, punctuated by a very much successfully mouthed phrase by the Vet that immediately both offended and charmed Wind. Hyrule glanced at them to make sure it wasn’t a true issue, then back to the trees, content that they weren’t in danger of drawing unnecessary attention by any passing enemies. Despite that little unfolding drama as counterpoint to the wariness of the whole group there was only the soft, subtle sounds of their feet falling on the earth, discreet whispers so as not to draw attention of any nearby monsters if there was any chance of slipping past unnoticed. 

 

Hyrule was good at this. The best at walking without sound, at clamping his words resolutely within his throat, ignoring the distractions of the others to watch the trees. Twi slipped away to act as an advance scout of sorts, the bond darkening like an eclipse sliding into place as he turned into Wolfie beyond view. He wandered ahead at the edge of Hyrule’s range of the bond between them, just close enough still for Hyrule to catch the calm vigilance that meant he’d found nothing yet as he circled the woods around and before them. 

 

Wild woke within the first hour after walking again, as lucid as he was likely to get. Worried for them because of course he was , aware enough to catch the injuries and Twilight’s absence and immediately come to the worst conclusion and start to panic. 

 

Hyrule could almost cry at the naive concern, because Wild didn’t know how horrifyingly hilarious him asking was. He didn’t know there would be no uncertainty if Twilight were dead, couldn’t understand that there was no missing it, pushing through it, moving past it, not when he was the one who was sacrificed for that experience. Not the way the rest of them did, the memory of that soul-deep agony still stabbing sharp and fresh.

 

But Twilight was fine, if somewhat agitated, likely from finding a scent trail. Time had picked up on it as well, growing more cautious and keeping his weapon ready for when Twilight brought back news of what he’d found. Wild drifted off to sleep within a few minutes, pale and bone-thin across War’s back. The group drew closer together, picking up on Time’s expectant air; Twilight returned and steadily woke the bond in each of their minds, and as he came into view through the forest growth no one was startled.

 

It was another group of monsters, of course. Settled on the road to accost any travelers, which made it firmly the heroes’ business. They opted to split the party once more- Sky and Wild staying back so the others wouldn’t have to guard them whilst facing the monsters. Sky may be able to use his non-dominant hand passably well for swordplay, but he had far fewer alternatives to his blade than some of the others; rather than risk him fighting whilst injured and handicapped he agreed he was best suited for guarding Wild at a safe distance from the fight. 

 

Hyrule helped look for somewhere to hide them off of the open road; the undergrowth was patchy, thick in some areas and completely open in others, the trees here twisting and funky.  Between him and Four they eventually found an inconspicuous hollow amongst a protruding knot of tree roots, close enough to the road not to get lost but far enough that they were unnoticeable from anything on the open path. None of them liked it, but it was better than the unnecessary stress and danger of having Wild unconscious and vulnerable in the middle of a skirmish. The Chain wouldn’t be gone long- battles like this were short spats more than anything. 

 

They were taking a chance that nothing would happen while separated, but it was, all told, a safe gambit. 

 

They’d approached just close enough to the waiting band of monsters to hopefully ensure Wild and Sky would still be in range of Hyrule and Time’s soulbonds; ideally they’d be able to keep tabs on their sequestered party members on the off chance something happened. Four showed Wars and Legend where to duck into the bracket-shielded hollow, Sky following after as the others waited in the road. A minute later, Wild’s mind stirred awake, bleary and indistinct but calm enough. 

 

Hyrule waited silently, tinkering with the hilt of his sword as he stared to the road ahead, anxious. Time came to stand next to him, neither of them speaking- and yet, the older hero’s presence did help, a little, calming his nerves a little just by being there.

 

“Good job finding a place that was a pain in the ass to enter,” Legend said as he came out of the trees, absolutely 100% genuine and not the least bit irritated even as he brushed thorns off carefully off of his clothes.

 

Wars seemed pleased as well, gliding over to Four to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Visually hidden and geographically guarded- nice work you two.” Legend bumped his shoulder companionably against Hyrule’s, a frown on his face as he took in the Traveller’s tense demeanor. 

 

The Captain continued, clarion-clear voice hushed, a genuine smile spared despite what lay ahead. “Wild woke up, seemed to be following the situation alright. They should be fine.”

 

Legend leaned over, voice dropping low to speak into Hyrule’s ear. “Champ had the guts to ask for his slate back, can you believe it? ‘Just in case’, he said.”

 

“Good grief,” Time rumbled beside them, running a hand over his face in despair. “He is aware it would currently kill him, right?”

 

“Hard to tell,” Legend hummed. “It’s okay- I gave him a knife instead, so he felt nice and armed.”

 

“A knife ? He’s going to pass out and stab himself!” Twilight hissed as Warriors began to usher them forward, a silent hint to wrap it up and focus in the razor sharp glare he cut sideways at them. 

 

“He is still a hero, you know.” Four rolled his eyes as he spoke at the same soft tones as the rest of them, jogging to the front. “He knows how to use a weapon, and it's better he have it then be left unarmed if he needed it. Especially if one of those smaller pockets of monsters you talked about happens to wander close.”

 

The heroes all shifted uneasily, but there was no perfect solution to the scenario they were in. There were more keatons and moblins ahead, the quick fox monsters the primary reason they’d left Sky and Wild behind. They flanked too quickly for there to be any defensible position but circled around their prone companions, and that was both a poor position for offensive action   and far too risky if anything went wrong and the monsters broke through to the center, inviting injury and desperation. 

 

So they opted not to do that.

 

Wind’s miniblins were present as well, rounding out the monster pack to something that outnumbered the heroes but was mostly lower tier enemies. And even as he thought it Hyrule remembered what one of those ‘weaker’ moblins had done to Sky, proof of how the infection in their blood made them so very, very dangerous. Easy to underestimate when the heroes had faced them in their own adventures and knew them to be weaker, slower, dumber. 

 

It was a hard habit to shake even when they knew otherwise. 

 

There was no attempt at stealth by the Chain. They approached close enough for the quicker, smaller monsters to swarm them, Legend promptly zapping a swathe of them just enough to stop them in place, cutting the electricity as Time’s claymore cut through the band of jit tering enemies. He and Wars managed to pull it off once more before the keatons got too close to the Vet and forced him to switch to his sword, empty black eyes glinting as they danced around his attacks. Legend’s strikes were precise, but he could only manage to land a hit when he targeted one keaton at a time, leaving him outnumbered even as he slowly cut down the group haggling him.

 

There were going to be so many little stab wounds after this that Legend wasn’t going to want him to spend magic or potion on, Hyrule thought with dismay, already perfectly able to imagine the Vet’s shifty eyes. Fantastic . 

 

Meanwhile, the miniblins were living up to their reputation from Wind’s stories- irritating little anklebiters with just enough sword to make them a literal pain. Hyrule was quick, but he didn’t have Wind or Four’s fleet footedness, and he was very much paying the price as the moblins joined the fray. Four noticed and plunged his way over, parrying knives and tripping equally short legs as he spun and darted around, Hyrule following after to deal damage to whatever moblin lay too close to their chaotic path of carnage. 

 

Wind too, seemed to be on a single-minded mission to decimate every miniblin in range, but the little hellions were slippery, springing away after stabbing at the heroes’ backs and legs with infuriating elusivity. For all their efforts, it was slow going on thinning out the smaller knife wielders, and they were all steadily accruing gashes and shallow holes in the meantime.

 

At the back of his mind Sky’s distance-muted presence suddenly exploded in pain, colors fizzing agitatedly around it as it wavered in and out for a few moments. He’d not even noticed it going still as a prey animal, not noting the silence as distracted as he was and what was the point of watching over them if he didn’t see?

 

Hyrule gasped, then expelled the air in a sharp cry as a keaton’s knife finally found purchase, stabbing into his calf as he hesitated. He immediately lunged and crushed it to the ground with his shield, grabbing the bloodied dagger without thinking and burning it clean. The instinctive action cost him though; the flame was still flicking over the blade when Hyrule caught a glimpse of movement and was promptly knocked spinning as a moblin landed a hit his feeble sword block did little to stop. He went down on his knees, hand only barely catching him from sprawling on the ground. Twilight was suddenly there knocking aside a sword and forcing the moblin back, but there was another too close, and a keaton with a bloodied dagger lunging for his neck, miniblins with hungry eyes darting for him for their share of flesh. 

 

He panicked. 

 

Thunder traced familiar lines of power in his magic before he registered what he was doing, his fingers already raised and snapping even as he realized this was a bad time to be doing a loud, bright, energy consumptive spell. At the last moment he targeted the monsters by their Malice, forcing the wash of lightning directly into their bodies and diffusing what was left. His fingers snapped, and the spell jumped into each of the enemies obediently with a crackling, jazzed dart of light. Without the primary bolt there was no thunder, but though it was weaker like this it was by no means weak . The moblins staggered as they were turned to dazzling stars for a moment, left wavering and collapsing; the smaller miniblins and keatons dropped where they stood, already letting off plumes of darkness. 

 

Hyrule dropped too, gasping at the near painful reverberations of building the power for the spell and then wrenching it into the wrong shape as it was breaking away. The magic was gone all the same, more than even the hefty amount Thunder usually took,  the air oddly charged and sparking harmlessly. He gasped on the ground for a moment, the small respite bought and paid for by a hefty chunk of his magic, but the fight wasn’t over yet, and he was not done. Hyrule gritted his teeth and forced himself up despite how heavy his limbs felt now, lunging from his knees with his sword up in time to watch Time dispatch a leaning moblin, electricity still singing over its skin. 

 

It fell and continued fighting right up until Time took its head off, sharp eye catching Hyrule’s. “Sky,” he gasped, knowing Time would understand even if he didn’t feel it too. “Something’s wrong-!”

 

Hyrule’s aborted Thunder spell had cleared a lot of the field- there were no more of the smaller monsters left, and what moblins hadn’t already been injured enough to be killed outright were still weakened by the considerable shock. As well they should be, considering how much energy Hyrule had put into feeding that power straight into them so he didn’t give their location away to every single wandering group of monsters nearby; they had enough problems already without additional enemies cropping up. 

 

“We need to go!” He cried to the others, because Sky was still awake but focused in a way that spoke of combat, and even at a run they were minutes away from the pair they’d left behind, and in a fight that was an eternity of opportunities for things to go horribly wrong.  

 

“Can you tell what’s happening?” Time asked tersely as he slipped forward to help surround the remaining monsters, ignoring how the charged sparks in the air skittered over his armor and frizzed his hair. 

 

Hyrule hissed, bending to heal his leg enough that he wouldn’t slow them down, already eyeing the others for injuries that needed to be taken care of right away. He dragged a potion out, stalking over to Wind and Twilight and shoving it in their hands. “Drink this- we need to get back to Sky and Wild now .” He turned to Time, hands itching to do more . “Something’s gone wrong, Sky’s hurt, I think.” 

 

Wind’s eyes widened, but he jumped to obey, drinking enough to heal the worst of the gashes skimming his body. He had some of the strongest protective charms on his clothing of all of them, the only reason Warriors and Time let him get away without wearing even chainmail armor no matter how much speed was his biggest asset, but he’d been in the thick of the miniblins and keatons and it showed. Twilight took the remaining potion, dragging Legend over as the last of the monsters went down. Time was already talking to Four and Warriors, both of them straightening up and patting themselves down for injuries as the Old Man scanned for any monsters faking their demise. 

 

They were on their way in half a minute, their pace brisk but slower than a sprint. Hyrule couldn’t help but keep an eye on Legend, who was limping far worse than before for all that his face held nothing but bloodthirsty determination. Even adrenaline couldn’t fully hide the fact that he really shouldn’t be running on that leg yet, especially after fighting a fast paced battle on it. 

 

Hyrule wasn’t about to tell Legend to stop. 

 

They closed in fast on the others, Sky’s mind buzzing the whole time, Wild’s warbling worriedly between more alert than he’s been yet and nearly fading out entirely. There were spikes of alarm and fury, worry building in the heroes as they raced back to help. They approached the final bend, the only thing keeping him from cutting through the forest memories of the thorn bushes and thick undergrowth that would only slow him more. Hyrule could tell Sky was riled, panic sharpening along the bond between them as they neared him, but there were no sounds of fighting, no cries, be they hylian or monster-borne. 

 

No-wait, there were raised voices, two of them, and Hyrule felt something ease in his chest as he ran, because feeling that they’re both alive and awake if jittery was entirely different than hearing proof of it. 

 

And then they rounded the corner, and he laid eyes on Wild and immediately freaked out . 

 

The Champion’s face was bloodied all across one cheek, red dripping from his lips and from the fingers of the arm laid limply over his lap. He was draped over Sky’s leg in something of a loose-limbed sprawl, glancing over and visibly perking up as he saw them. Sky looked utterly distraught, summery blue eyes widened in barely restrained panic even as his ears perked, gladness flooding his expression. 

 

Wild waved at them, bloody teeth flashing as he smiled, happiness looping across his mind. 

 

The Chain was too busy sprinting their asses off to help to reply in kind, Legend’s breathless “ Holy shit ” saying everything that needed to be said of fear and relief alike. Hyrule skidded to a stop above Wild, magic glowing warm at his fingers, before pausing a moment and reassessing, because Sky may be a flurry of melting relief and bone-shivering fear but Wild was nothing but happy and- embarrassed? Or something like it, but he certainly wasn’t dying, despite all the blood he was currently leaking. 

 

That was something the others hadn’t picked up on quite yet, though, most of them shoving to check if Wild was okay for their own eyes and doing a poor job of hiding their panic. Sky wasn’t helping in the least, looking like he was about to burst into tears- again , judging by the redness around his eyes and touching the tip of his nose. And oh god there was the sheen of tears, and Hyrule tried to subtly gesture Twilight over to help their Skyborn with a flick of his head but there was absolutely no dragging anyone’s attention from Wild while he was actively being covered in his own blood. 

 

Four, meanwhile, finally managed to shove his way past Time. “How is he? Do you need any bandages? We don’t have a fairy…” Four’s lips pursed into an unconscious pout as he thought over their inventory. Those gray eyes refocused and skimmed over Wild once more before pinning to Hyrule’s face as he deemed Wild’s wrist in no danger of bleeding out and moved to his face and neck, wincing at the pierced cheek. 

 

Something, it seemed, had gotten close enough to maul Wild’s face, and he didn’t like that one single bit. Hyrule wouldn’t be able to heal his cheek without a scar but, well- Gods, it sounded bad, but that was the scarred side anyways, and lacking in some sensation already if Wild’s lack of flinching as he pulled cautiously at the skin was any indication. The blood was from that injury and those to the mouth, fortunately, not any of his current illness or more dangerous injury to lungs or internal organs. 

 

His neck, though- that was a problem waiting to crash down on their heads. “Stop moving, Wild,” Hyrule commanded, voice sharpening as he gripped Wild’s jaw to stop him turning his head about, the other hand drifting down to carefully brush alongside the gashes at his throat. “Yes, Four, get some bandages ready,” he finished, eyes unfocusing as he explored the wound with his magic. 

 

“I’m fine, it was just a stupid keese,” Wild said shamefacedly, unconsciously trying to turn his head away as his eyes darted to the side, a blush rising starkly on the pale cheek unsullied by blood. 

 

“If you don’t stop moving I’m going to have Time hold you down. This gash is uncomfortably close to your artery, and I don’t want you opening anything up because you brushed it off to make us feel better,” he warned, and almost regretted it at the spike of worry from the Old Man. 

 

Sky breathed out shakily, his emotions smoothing out a little with his clear effort to help control them. “Missed that chance the instant the keese got him,” he said damply, still upset but handling it better with them there and Wild getting healed. The Champion subsided obediently at that, looking guilty, and Hyrule would have been annoyed, or envious, but he knew the power of Sky’s tears and could hardly blame Wild for falling prey to them. 

 

Wild’s ears pinned back in dejection at Hyrule’s intense look and the worried faces around them, his voice quiet and somewhat hesitant . “It’s nothing, though,” he murmured almost as a question, and Hyrule would take pity for how pathetic he looked if he weren’t so dismayed at the weak statement. 

 

Hyrule couldn’t help but give a displeased hum, frowning sharply at the other.“‘It’s nothing’? Wild, I can see your tooth through your cheek, for Din’s sake,” -several, actually, as well as a section of lacerated gums- “How is a keese managing to chew off your face ‘nothing’?” 

 

Wild huffed through his nose, face scrunching as best it could with a mauled, swollen cheek. “It didn’t chew off my face, it punched me. Stupid claw must’ve jabbed through,” he said indistinctly before spitting out a glob of semi-clotted blood. The answering flinch of the onlooking heroes was seemingly mistaken as some kind of judgement instead of the guilt and sympathy it was, though, because Wild seemed to wilt, ashamed. “I did try,” he said in a small voice. “It just- They were looping around me, and I couldn’t…”

 

Track them, probably. Follow them at all, not with how dizzy and unsteady he’s been while recovering so far. If he’d even been able to stand and fight it would have been through the miracle of adrenaline and pure necessity, but trying to track a flying monster as it circled? Wild wouldn’t have stood a chance, insignificant bat or not.

 

Wind immediately fell over himself to reassure Wild, brown eyes wide and empathetic as he nudged his way into Wild’s uninjured side, careful to stay out of Hyrule’s way. “It’s alright, you did your best,” Wind said confidently, nothing of judgement in his body language or mind. “You made it out alive, so who cares if a couple of dumb keese gave you more trouble than you thought? We’v all been on the wrong side of those fucking teeth, and none of us had anywhere near as good an excuse as you do, only a few days out of the grave.”

 

Wild looked unconvinced, though, and Four jumped on that doubt, backing up Wind’s sincerity with cold hard facts- the Smithy’s favorite means of comforting the others when they were being irrational. “Keese prefer to target injured or weak prey and make them more so by attacking their vulnerable points- just because you fell into the particular demographic that they are evolved to take advantage of, doesn’t mean you have any reason to be ashamed.” And he’s grateful to Four for trying, but wow, those sure were words. 

 

Wild was equally dazzled, and in absolutely no condition to argue or comment on the evolution of keese. His gaze flitted to each of their faces, relaxing when all he saw was gladness, fear of their criticism bleeding away even if his own reproach of his perceived inadequacy lingered at the edges of his expression. 

 

Time knelt, armor hissing gently as the metal plates slid easily over one another with the movement. His hand came up to card carefully through Wild’s hair, brushing it away where blood had plastered some of it near his injured cheek. The Champion settled under the touch, the restless shifting stilling, and Time smiled knowingly as Wild blinked up at him. “They’re right,” the Old Man said easily, his voice as gentle as it ever was when one of them was sad or scared or hurt. “It’s been barely a week since you recovered from dying- a condition that you got yourself into for our sake. Don’t be too hard on yourself; Din knows we’ve all gotten hurt worse for stupider reasons.”

 

And that was certainly true; even if Hyrule couldn’t quite recall any actual mishaps with keese , he definitely could recount a story or two about bubbles- Wars’ scarf had been a near casualty from an unfortunate wind gust too close to the flaming skulls, and he’ll never forget the sheer volume and pitch of Legend’s startled yelp before they managed to put out the unnatural flames covering the Vet’s fire-resilient bag from a wayward smote bubble bouncing off it.  

 

Wild’s lips parted as if to argue, and Hyrule took the opportunity to start healing his cheek and mouth, and if Wild couldn’t speak during the process then whoops , that must mean he and Wind and Four were right. 

 

It was a matter of minutes to get Wild healed up as best he could; the gashes on his neck had been shallow and harmless, and Hyrule may have overreacted a little . Except Wild couldn’t exactly afford to start bleeding out, no matter how improbable it was for him to jar the injury enough to endanger him, and if there was one thing he’d learned it's that Wild’s luck could be the worst if given any opportunity. Wild was cleaned up and freshly bandaged; the scratches at his neck had healed fine, but the deeper ones around his forearm and cheek were more scabs than scars despite his best efforts at coaxing Wild’s body to accept his magic’s healing. 

 

The adrenaline faded with the familiar process, leaving Hyrule feeling exactly how much magic he’d just used and the rest of them definitely feeling the injuries they’d accrued. The drop hit Wild predictably hard, leaving him all but boneless where he was crashed against Sky, who was sitting suspiciously straight as he patiently waited for Hyrule to finish with Wild. 

 

“Is it your ribs?” The Traveller asked softly, despite how the Champion looked pretty definitely out of it enough to be unbothered by anything going on around him. “He’s not hurting you like that, is he? We can move him-” And he lifted his hands, leaning forward before Sky shook his head, his good arm hugging Wild a little tighter. 

 

“He’s fine, you can leave him. I just… may have gotten knocked around a little bit and undone some of your earlier work,” Sky admitted, looking somewhat sheepish. “Sorry ‘Rule.”  

 

Hyrule waved it off and Time huffed, lips curling fondly. “You definitely don’t need to be apologizing, not when you managed to keep yourself and Wild safe. What happened?” Everyone’s attention honed in immediately on them, avidly waiting for the answer to Time’s prompting. 

 

“A moblin found us- one of yours, Wind. Sniffed us out and forced us back onto the road. It took me too long to take care of it, and I saw the keese on him and was too far away, and then there was so much blood I-I thought-” Sky’s breath stuttered, those eyes flashing down to Wild to reassure himself the other was fine. Hyrule gets it- he’d feared the same when he first saw Wild. 

 

“I thought I was too slow, that I was right there and still too far to help,” Sky said, shaken. “It was impossible and yet it was just keese, but they could have been enough-” He stopped, seeming lost for words, helpless as he watched Time. 

 

“It was just keese, and the moblin was the bigger threat,” Time agreed calmly, reframing it. “You’re just one person, Sky. You can’t be everywhere at once. Wild may have gotten hurt, but he made it out the other side all the same. Don’t blame yourself for a tragedy that didn’t happen.” 

 

“Yeah,” Sky agreed softly, relaxing minutely under Hyrule’s hands. The knight had refractured some of the still-fragile ribs from earlier and strained some of the muscles anew along his shoulder -probably from trying to break the fall- but Hyrule was at least able to alleviate the worst of the pain, even if Sky was left slightly worse off than before he’d reinjured himself. 

 

He’d be fine to walk though, and all of them were antsy to get somewhere safer than the woods after this most recent close call. Legend probably shouldn’t be on that leg for hours, but was not about to budge on the fact, and it wasn’t so debilitating that Hyrule was going to push- he knew to pick his battles, and this was not a hill worth dying on. Wild was all but conked out, barely rousing even as they moved him to Time’s back except to bury his head adorably into the older hero’s nape.  

 

The afternoon passed much the same as the morning had- only soft, muted spatters of conversation as they walked, ears flicking vigilantly at every disturbance in the trees. They came across a few more moblins and a group of chuchus, though this time Four was quick enough to daze the single spiky gray one with his boomerang before it could explode on them. 

 

Harmless enough, but the repeated encounters did nothing to soothe the agitation in the group, their collective nerves only calming as the forest thinned out to something tamer and they entered the first of the villages bordering Castletown. Four took the lead as the single road split into increasingly convoluted routes through markets and along winding main roads, the small semi-rural towns giving way to the distinctly urban Castletown. Four curved them through it, masterfully avoiding the afternoon bustle without letting them wander into abandoned alleys- his house, his grandfather’s forge, was on the edge of Castletown on a different side than they’d approached on. 

 

It was nestled up against a patch of domesticated forest, just isolated enough that the clamor and smoke of their work wouldn’t disturb neighbors while remaining easily accessible and semi-convenient. There was no fear of monsters here, not in the heart of the kingdom’s capitol. 

 

Safe at last, and exhaustion rode hard on the heels of relief. It wasn’t the hardest they’d pushed themselves, but they were all injured in a variety of small, inconvenient ways and happy to get clean and rested. Twilight and Wind won Wild duty, and used it to their advantage to claim the spare bedroom alongside him. Sky was graciously granted Four’s to share with the Smithy as the next most injured. 

 

Hyrule took the floor along with Time and Wars, the Captain bullying Legend onto the sofa. It wasn’t so bad, not when Four’s grandfather had supplied them with plenty of blankets and Hyrule was very accustomed to far harder and harsher sleeping conditions than a warm home. 

 

It was all good; the coziness, the security, the warmth and content purr of his brothers’ minds along their soul link. 

 

But the best part by far?

 

Four’s grandfather cooked, and it was delicious . 

 

=============================================

 

It was nice to be home again , Four thought idly. The constant, subtle ache of missing his Grandpa had sharpened all at once the instant he’d seen him again, and all of the soreness and exhaustion in the world couldn’t have stopped him running to meet those open arms and hug back with everything he had. 

 

The relieved “Link” whispered into his hair as well-muscled arms tightened around him was enough to draw tears to his eyes, and Four pressed his face tighter into his Grandpa’s chest, breathing in the familiar smell of leather and smoke. He’d met the Chain briefly when Four had first joined, first as travellers looking for the hero and then as companions for his grandson on a new adventure. 

 

Four’s grandfather was not a kind man; he treated people as they deserved, offering politeness until more or less than generic courtesy was earned. That said, he’d been warmer and more generous with the Chain than even Four had expected, personable in a way he usually reserved for regulars and friends. He’d offered his home for them to stay in, offered to escort them into town, chatting easily with them as they relaxed in the evenings. 

 

(Seeing him treat them almost as family -which they were, to Four, but not to his grandpa, certainly- had made Four wonder if others couldn’t sense the soul shared between them all on a subconscious level, truth be told.)

 

Something distinctly dragonesque purred within him at seeing them sheltered in his home. Four fluttered between getting them settled and helping his grandfather get them settled and supper going, nervously checking that he didn’t have any commissions he had to work on, that if he had projects that needed attention he could go and Four would handle this-

 

A calloused hand settled on his head. “I don’t,” his grandfather said bluntly, “and even if I did I would much rather take this chance to see you and your companions, Link. It’s been too long, and I don’t know when you’ll be rounding back here again. It can all wait the night, and there’s nothing so pressing over the next week that reduced time in the forge will hurt.”

 

“I missed you too,” Four said, turning to make eye contact. “Last time we were here it was too far to make it back, and the time before that a portal showed up the next morning to take us away-”

 

“Link,” his grandfather said, a hint of humor in his voice, “I know you haven’t been avoiding seeing me all this time.” 

 

Four shook his head. “No, I know you know better.” After all, Four’s father, as a captain of the royal knights, had much the same problem, though it was good to hear aloud that it wasn’t an insecurity. “But I wanted to. I care for the others, and the adventure isn’t bad, usually- it has its ups and downs like they always do, but the Chain makes it… easier. To keep heart and to bear the bad times. And I know I’ve told you how I missed it, almost, in spite of the danger and uncertainty.” 

 

His grandfather tipped his head. “I know you did even before you said anything. Not enough to join your father in the knights, but you longed for it, or at least parts of it. Whether this time sates that hunger or ignites a greater need to explore, you’re my grandson all the same. You know it wouldn’t matter to me.” And the sentimentality was all in the words, for the tone was purely matter of fact as they each prepared the food. 

 

Four blinked at his grandfather’s profile before smiling to himself and turning back to cutting up the meat. “Right. Except, here’s the thing I didn’t say because I thought you’d see it the way you saw everything else before I even talked about it: I may miss the road, but I love our home far more. Because you’re here, of course, but in and of itself, too. I love being apart from the bustle of the city yet close enough that visiting the farmer’s market isn’t a whole day affair. I love working at the forge, from restoring beloved old blades to making weapons and choosing who they’re entrusted to.” Four’s eyes shone, completely earnest as he strove to let his grandpa understand what he was saying, how very much he meant it. “I love it here, and it’s where I want to be. No matter what else is out there, this is where I want to return to.” 

 

His grandfather barked a laugh, loud and unrestrained as always, but Four caught how his expression softened, how genuine his smile was. “If you think I’m going to let you live in this house for the rest of your life you are underestimating what a handful you four can be.” And he may have brushed it off, but there was no hiding how the grin lingered, a happy laugh still twinkling in his eyes.

 

“Plenty of space around for another house,” Four teased, though they both knew they’d rather share the space. “If you think we’re a lot, Shadow is definitely going to tip you over the edge.”

 

“I resent that,” Shadow said, appearing from nowhere to tuck his chin over Four’s shoulder to steal a mushroom.  

 

His grandfather jolted, turning to face them, because Four had told him -Red and Vio had told him- who Shadow was, what he meant to them, how he was gone but maybe not forever, not if they were clever enough . Sharp gray eyes -darker than Four’s, almost black- flickered over his dark companion, utterly unperturbed by the uncanny likeness, the pale skin, the blood-red eyes. Shadow remained casually draped over him, but Four could feel the tension in the arm wrapped around his waist. 

 

His mirrored companion knew exactly how much his grandfather meant to him, how highly he valued his opinion. And Shadow may be good but he’s also a pain in the ass and knows it, and there’ll be no hiding that for the rest of their lives. 

 

“Hello,” he said politely, feet dropping lightly to the ground as he moved forward to offer his hand. “Four’s said he’s mentioned me; I’m Shadow.”

 

Four’s grandfather straightened, and he wasn’t a tall man but he was, despite his age, thoroughly muscled from working in a forge his whole life. His hands settled on his hips in a familiar stance as he looked Shadow over, and oh wow, did Four ever take after his grandfather in demeanor.

 

And Shadow- he couldn’t help himself. “Wow, looks like you got everything from him but your height, Rainbow.” Four’s smile sharpened, and his grandfather looked stunned for a moment before delight crept over his features. 

 

He knew everything, after all; how Shadow came to be, who he’d originally aligned with, how he’d turned and done the right thing in the end and died for them. Vio talked long over his flaws and virtues, holding nothing back because how was their grandfather supposed to know Shadow if he was missing half of who he was? 

 

And among all that, hidden within how desperately Four missed him and regretted his fate, how determined he was to fix it and give Shadow better, give him the life he deserved, was this: 

 

The irony of Shadow preferring Four’s color shifted form and being hilariously defensive of his height despite how the Smithy didn’t care at all what effects the Minish magic had left on his stature. 

 

“Oh, you’re everything he’s said you would be, alright. Same snark, same looks, same height,” his grandfather said, the hand Shadow had thought to be reaching out to clasp his suddenly flattening and gesturing to the dark hero’s diminutive head level. 

 

Shadow’s face collapsed into pure shock, and it was beautiful.

 

Four’s grin bloomed across his face as Shadow’s hand was bypassed and he was enthusiastically crushed by a jovial smith’s unfettered hug, watching with hands propped on his hip as Shadow’s hand flailed out for help before giving in and hesitantly hugging back. 

 

Gods, but he was glad to be home again.

 

=================================================

 

Wild slept through the night and would have likely kept going strong through the morning if Twilight hadn’t finally broken and forced him up and into a bath. The Chain discreetly haunted the hall as they were moving to the bathroom, trying to get a grasp on his level of lucidity this morning. Warriors had been antsy as hell to try talking to Wild again about the portals, with Time as his backup this go round like that had been the problem before. Four would be more offended, but Vio did put his foot in it, even if the culpability was shared by no one else stepping in to stop him either. 

 

The Champion was on his feet, even if Twilight was doing the lion’s share of providing forward momentum to Wild’s dragging, wobbly- kneed steps. A minute to get him settled in the bathroom and then Twilight stepped out, staying close so he could re-enter if Wild needed help with anything. The Captain, waiting for his opportunity, took immediate advantage and swooped in, voice low. 

 

“Better this morning?” Warriors said hopefully, heartened, as they all were, by seeing Wild on his feet, even if it was by the barest definition of the term. 

 

“Best he’s been yet,” Twilight said, looking tired but content. “He seemed perkier, and remembered most of what happened to get us here.” 

 

Wars perked up, looking to Time as if for permission. The older hero smiled placidly, arms crossed as he leaned on the wall. “If you think he’s well enough, the Captain and I would like a word with Wild. Nothing bad, just to set straight any misconceptions he may have about what issues, exactly, we have with his actions gathering us together.

 

The Captain nodded. “We’ve all acted unhappy with the injury he took for our sakes, but having got to know him a little better, we were worried he would… misunderstand why we were displeased. It’s just to make sure there’s no incorrect conclusions being drawn before all this falls away into the past, never to be clarified.”

 

And it hadn’t been Four’s idea, but he whole-heartedly agreed it was a necessary talk to have. Wild was smart and observant, and he was good at reading people, but not every conclusion he drew was correct. Even back in Kakariko it had been clear that Wild had insecurities that colored how he viewed interactions, and even speaking clearly then Four felt like Wild still didn’t understand what the Chain meant, how they interacted with each other. How they cared, more than just for the heroic obligations they each held. They were soulmates, and they loved each other as such. 

 

Wild should know that it was unconditional, that love. 

 

Twilight rubbed the back of his head, glancing towards the bathroom door. “No, I- that’s a good idea. He’s aware enough, if you want. I don’t know for how long, but he was alert and happy when we woke up. If you think this’ll help-” he paused, trusting them. 

 

“We’ll do it before breakfast when he comes out,” the Captain confirmed, tilting his head and smiling. Not the worst idea, considering that Wild was still having trouble with meals and was quickly worn out by the bouts of sickness they were having a hard time avoiding; for a conversation as serious as this, morning was probably the best time to get a fully aware Wild to speak to. Then the  Champion quietly called that he was done, and the Chain scattered to make themselves scarce, Four sending a ‘you can do it!’ to Warriors as he skedaddled behind a door so it didn’t look too much like they were all lurking in the hall. He couldn’t resist peering out though, frowning at what he saw. Even that one trip had taken too much out of Wild, the newest hero little more than dead weight as Twilight brought him back to the bedroom, Wars and Time slipping in after. 

 

The heroes took that as their cue to grab breakfast and immediately camp out in the hallway again, handing Twilight his when he exited the room a minute later. There was mostly silence as they all ate, Wars and Time’s voices humming unintelligibly through the walls, Wild’s softer tones barely audible.

 

Twi nudged Four’s shoulder as conversation finally stirred amongst the others when it became clear passive eavesdropping wasn’t working, dragging Wind down beside them when the Sailor tried to lay on the floor to listen shamelessly through the door crack.

 

 “We switched out your sheets while Wild was washing up- you’re going to want to clean the others. He wasn’t the cleanest hylian out there last night,” Twilight admitted to Four, as if the Smithy was going to blame him for not dragging a dead-tired Wild into a bath before granting him the comfort of an actual bed to recover in.

 

Four waved him off. “I figured- there’s spares to use in the meantime. He was alright though last night? I didn’t hear any nightmares, not like in the spring.” The begging, sobbing cries weren’t possible to sleep through, and Four would be happy to never hear them again, but only so long as it truly meant Wild wasn’t simply suffering alone in silence. 

 

Twilight shook his head. “He slept like a rock; I think you were right about the triggers.” Hazel eyes drifted towards the closed door thoughtfully, but his mouth remained quirked oddly, seeming lost for words. 

 

He paused and Wind, practically vibrating at his side, lost patience. “We had to move your knick knacks, by the way- they were all over the bed and under your pillow and stuff. They were so cool!”the Sailor gushed, leaning around Twilight to better speak to Four. “Where’d you get them all?” 

 

Four stared at them, utterly bewildered. “I’m sorry, knick knacks?”

 

Twilight looked sheepish. “Ah, sorry. Your collection- they looked pretty neat, and I hope they weren’t too strictly organized. We put them on your desk, but there were too many to keep the same, ah, configuration you had them in.”

 

“They were absolutely knick knacks,” Wind said, shoving Twi’s face to the side as he leaned even farther over the Ranchhand’s lap. “Tchotchkes. Trinkets. Baubles, gewgaws, doodads,” Wind listed, rifling in his pockets before drawing out a handful of…

 

Huh. 

 

“Wind!” Twilight scolded, but it looked to be more out of habit, considering the curious glint in his eye as well.  

 

The Sailor ignored him, poking a finger in his cupped hand as he held it out for Four to see. There was no other way to say it: it was mostly junk. Baubles had been a generous label, considering most of what Wind had was both useless and worthless. A pair of twinned acorns with unusual golden striping along the nuts, a broken, tarnished clasp, a little scrap of embroidered cloth the size of a thumbnail, only a little bumblebee intact amongst torn string edges. Several buttons clacked, most of them wood that had simple patterns carved into them but two of which were metal. A small earring glinted, the boldly colored glass gems tiny but pretty enough to look at, bumping against a flat stone whose odd banding looked like a smiling face. 

 

Oh, how lovely! Crimson delight, echoed by a soft trill of blue-jay bashfulness. 

 

It was all meticulously cleaned despite very much being nothing precious at all. Four knew exactly where it had come from, and it wasn’t any hobby of his at the source. He opened his mouth and hesitated, because the Minish weren’t exactly a secret, but they were secretive, and pretty hard to prove when most of the others’ world didn’t have them and half the group had outgrown the ability to see them. 

 

Four included, to a degree, which made it that much more difficult. 

 

That was why the little fellows left all this for him, after all. Tiny treasures they found, carried, and laid down around his room and under his windowsill, little signs that they were still around and thinking fondly of him. Four did his best to leave them useful gifts in return, even if he couldn’t interact easily with them anymore. He was old enough now that it was only when he was shrunk down with their magic, covered in it, that he could see and speak to them again. Sometimes he would catch a hint as a hylian, a sense he wasn’t alone, or feel something along his magic akin to a heat ripple on a warm day, but that was it. 

 

Four had been gone awhile from his home, and he inwardly cringed at exactly how much stuff must have been in his room, the one place he hadn’t stopped into since he’d erroneously assumed it would be perfectly ready for Wild, Twi and Wind. He’d forgotten about the Minish’s endearing habit of leaving little crow-bauble offerings for him. 

 

The Smithy sighed fondly, holding out his hand for Wind to deposit the knick knacks into. “How bad was it?” He said instead, and Wind hummed thoughtfully. 

 

“I mean, there were probably like, fifty or so?” Oh dear, they’d been busy. “What are they?”

 

Four shrugged, carefully folding the little baubles into a cloth before tucking it into a small, cinched bag, emerald affection stirring within him. “Gifts from the Minish, things they find that they think I’d like. They don’t really stop when it gets cluttered, just find new places to put it.” 

 

“The ones who hide the rupees in the grass, right?” Twi said, cocking his head. They knew he’d worked with them during one of his adventures, though not, exactly, the extent to which he’d interacted with them literally on their level. “That’s so cute,” the Rancher said helplessly, and Four wrinkled his nose but couldn’t argue that it was hopelessly endearing of the little folk. 

 

“Where do you put them all? There’s no way you don’t keep ‘em,” Wind said, looking pointedly at the little bag still in Four’s hands. His eyes brightened, then. “There was that shelf, the one with the little frames above it and the cool little figurine? You’re not picking favorites, are you Four?”

 

“I keep them all!” He retorted, affronted at the thought of tossing away any of the little gifts, no matter how simple or benign. “Just- maybe some of the more interesting ones I keep out, rotate around. There’s so much of it , most of it’s in sorted boxes, but it didn’t seem right to just tuck it away- this was the only middle ground I could come to.”

 

Wind ahhhhed in understanding. He turned to Twilight. “So not shrines, but little pedestals to make Four choose theirs for the shelf,” he said as if having uncovered something of extraordinary significance. 

 

“What.” Four asked flatly. 

 

“It seems the Minish may be competing a little bit, and they seemed to decide if you weren’t there that a nice… display was the best way to optimize their offering. You meant well but I think it may have backfired a little, maybe.” Twilight said carefully, doing a poor job of hiding a smile at his expense. 

 

“What do you mean by display?” Four pressed, and Wind shaped something tall with his hands. 

 

“Think like, stacked stone towers and those fancy bird nests with the color themes-”  but was cut off when Warriors’ voice rang out, loudly enough to be heard:

 

“Welcome to the Chain, Wild!” 

 

And nothing was so important then as giving Wild the hugs he deserved, the connection between their souls humming happily between the nine of them. 

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Contrary to what Sky said, the cooking ban on Wild was indeed the punishment he claimed it to be. It may have initially started with purely good intentions, just one more thing on the list of tasks Wild couldn’t do yet as he slowly gained just enough strength and energy to push his limits but then it had become clear that they needed some level of threat motivation to keep Wild in line. In the last day he’d started trying to help out around the house, which would be fine except for the nasty habit he’d developed of fainting when he stood up too fast or pushed himself too hard or got too startled when yelled at out of nowhere Wind, please . 

 

(And maybe it was funny in hindsight but no one had been laughing at the time. Wind had the misfortune of being the first through the doorway to see Wild tending to the fire and reacted without thinking at seeing him crouching unsteadily by the flames.

 

“Wild! What are you doing?” He’d shrieked, and Wild had jolted around, their entrance hidden under the sounds of crackling fire and his own distraction, swayed, and promptly slid to the ground, hair only barely avoiding catching alight. 

 

Turned out the Champion currently had a terrible tolerance for fast movements or spikes in heart rate. He was fine, already blinking his way out of it by the time Wind dove to his side, but a wild-eyed Twilight had immediately assigned a babysitter -freedom from which Wild had clearly proved he did not yet deserve- and ixnayed any chores that involved getting out of bed.

 

“I’m going to need you to be more exact,” Wild had said tetchily, purely to be difficult. 

 

Twilight didn’t back down though, ticking off on his fingers. “No sweeping, no dusting, no tending fires, no lighting candles, no washing windows or dishes or tables, no tending fires of any kind, Wild, which includes fireplace, candles, cooking-”

 

And that caught Wild’s attention. “No- I can cook! That doesn’t even involve standing!”

 

“It involves knives and fire, so it’s on the Nuh-uh List,” Twilight said mercilessly, immediately latching on. He eyed the dramatically flopped Champion, unimpressed. “It’s only until you’re acting less like a fainting goat, Wild, for your own good.”

 

“My soul,” Wild declared to the ceiling, “is withering away. Can you feel it, Twi? Like a plant without sun, just- shriveling .” 

 

“Well, not everything’s on the list. Legend can show you mending, if you don’t already know-”

 

Wild’s groan of utter dismay said everything needed about his opinion of that alternative.)

 

So of course after finding out that Wild rather liked cooking, it became the carrot on the stick that kept him actively conserving his energy for healing. That, and it did seem a little cruel and some degree of exploitative to have him cook food he was too ill to even eat yet, whether or not his declaration of being a ‘good cook’ was even true. Hyrule had claimed the same when what he really meant was that the meals he made were generally not deadly, so Wild’s insistence that he was fantastic meant nothing without solid proof to back it up. 

 

Considering the rest of their culinary skills, the odds were against him. 

 

So Four was doing his damndest to wrangle a soup together, and with Warriors as his partner in crime it was going alarmingly terribly, considering what he’d put out a mere two days ago with the help of his grandfather. 

 

Well- no. He’d been helping his grandfather , which was apparently a very important distinction when it came to producing palatable results. It seemed so easy when he was working with someone who knew what they were doing, but right now, being in charge of giving the clueless but enthusiastic Captain instructions, everything was suddenly an absolute mess. 

 

He knew how to make a soup, he did , except when things went wrong. 

 

Which they did, of course, like they always do. 

 

Four can admit it was a major mistake not to put out all the ingredients ahead of time, realizing far too late that he was halfway through a chicken soup only to realize nope, that wasn’t an option without any chicken on hand and it was too late to switch. Then measuring spoon had immediately been lost to the clutter growing on the table, so he’d resorted to memory and eyeballing from a cup instead.  

 

A couple substitutions had been necessary, and in the time he’d spent trying to find the proper spices Wars had managed to butcher the vegetables, having added them as he finished cutting them. Four turned, saw it, and squawked. “Not the potatoes! How long have you had them in there? Carrots first! Even I know that,” he hissed.

 

Wars looked at the pot, eyes narrowing in consideration. “Okay, hear me out- we dump half of this and add water to cool it down to stop it cooking until I get the carrots in. It doesn’t fix it, but it should help,” he said assuredly, and it’s not as if Four knew what to do once the order of operations was shot in the face, but that sounded like a terrible idea. 

 

“Don’t do that,” he ordered, and later he would realize it was his mistake not to watch to ensure Warriors didn’t immediately proceed to follow through with the plan he’d concocted to fix his blunder. 

 

After too much stress and uncertainty about what herbs or oils were equivalent to the missing ingredients, Four was finally done. It was only then that he remembered he’d never really added the spices after all, the mish mash sitting innocently in a bowl at the edge of the table, long forgotten. He tossed them in, where they floated stubbornly at the surface, refusing to mix into the soup like good little seasonings. Four cocked his head unhappily at the soup, staring at it for a moment before realizing what, beside the little lawn of herbs, was wrong. “Why isn’t it steaming?”

 

“It smelled like it was burning, so I added water to cool it down,” Wars chimed. “It should be cool enough to serve right away, which is nice.”

 

Four looked at him blankly. You’ve got to be kidding me . “And you see nothing wrong with this.”

 

Wars blinked naively back at him, head cocking, and no, he wasn’t just pulling Four’s leg, he thought with bluebell disbelief. “I-should I?”

 

Four inhaled defeatedly. It’s not Warriors’ fault, he reminded himself. The Captain had grown up in a high enough class to never have to cook for himself, then joined the army. After that he was employed at the castle, and as a higher-ranking soldier he’d likely been out of the drawing to cook even when he did go on patrols. There’d been no reason for him to hone any of his cooking skills past making food that could be eaten. 

 

Not… necessarily enjoyed, though. 

 

The Smithy closed his eyes, resigned to his short-lived reputation as an alright meal prepper dying tonight, and started serving up the ruined soup. He walked over to his grandfather, setting it down in front of him. “I’m so sorry,” he said preemptively, utterly aggrieved. “I wasn’t good enough to balance him out.”

 

His grandfather, having been absent for the cooking process and until now blissfully unaware of the culinary black thumb their group had, chuffed good-naturedly. “It can’t be that-”

 

“It is,” Four stated grimly, having tasted it to see if it was done. Then again to see if it could be salvaged, and a third time to realize it was beyond saving. “Sorry.” Lavender chagrin at the failure shifting to grass green embarrassment. 

 

His grandfather cocked an eyebrow and looked around at the other heroes gamely continuing to tuck in, though without enthusiasm. Four saw the distinct long pause after the first sip, faces running through complicated expressions before going blank. It was a familiar song and dance, unfortunately, but it was still only the lower end of ‘not good’.

 

They’d all had worse. 

 

Four could only wait and watch as his grandfather drank the first spoonful, almost spitting it back out, choking on a laugh. “Oh, you poor lot,” he said, shaking his head but continuing on. 

 

Surprisingly, Wild’s feathers were far more ruffled. Hopefully he wasn’t too picky an eater, or he was going to be in for a hard time until he resigned himself to the disasters they regularly produced. 

 

“Never again,” Wild hissed at Hyrule, who had settled beside him after delivering the disaster over. Hyrule looked caught between pity for Wild’s inescapable fate and guilt as the most severe offender of creating such abominations. 

 

Warriors snorted at the irony of telling Hyrule that, and Wild narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re no better, standing there, letting that happen, aiding and abetting this crime.” Which- excuse him, Four was the victim here, not Warriors. The Captain had sabotaged Four’s good  - mediocre at best, came the cerulean reality check-  work, albeit through ineptitude more than any malicious intent. 

 

None of them had the heart to tell him it had truly been their best attempt at a soup, though, and Wild was utterly unimpressed by the silence, his face settling into vicious calm. He gestured with his spoon at them all. “Eat up, everyone,” he invited with a tone that bore no argument. “These two worked hard, and it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.” 

 

Four closed his eyes in a long, defeated blink- the pot was rather full, thanks to Warriors’ adding so much water in and ruining whatever flavor he’d managed to imbue, no matter how slapdash. They’d probably finish most of it anyways, if for no reason than that eight heroes had large appetites, and a crappy soup was still food, and this crappy soup wasn’t filling at all.

 

Wild, meanwhile, had a mere cupful in front of him, and Four did feel a little guilty watching his dismal expression as he forced himself to sip another spoonful. But the flavorless soup did seem to work with Wild’s sensitive stomach, at least; the Champion looked to be struggling primarily with the lacking flavor of the meal, not his pervading nausea. It almost made the whole mess worth it to know that Wild managed to actually eat something, even if Four wished it were more substantial than glorified broth. 

 

Baby steps. It was a good sign, even if it seemed to be crushing Wild’s soul. Dinner that night was painful, but did end in them agreeing to let Wild have his shot at cooking soon, if only to mollify the fuming hero. Breakfast the next morning was sufficient- eggs, which were simple enough that Time and Twilight couldn’t ruin them, delivering mediocre omelets. Four’s grandfather ended up taking over lunch as an added buffer to last night’s dinner, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Four that the older man ate more than usual and tucked leftovers away. 

 

Smart, considering that Wild would not be further barred from cook duty and insisted on taking care of supper. 

 

Wind’s face as he ducked into the forge to let them know dinner was ready made him think the worst- it was bright-eyed and excited, and all Four could do was dread the consequences of another Hyrule-level culinary disaster in the group. Except when he stepped into the house the smell was amazing, not terrifying, rich and homy and mouth watering after a hard day’s work hammering out blades. It was just finishing up as he came down from wiping the worst of the sweat and smoke-scent off and changing into clean clothes, fresh bread scent strong in the air. 

 

This time, the silence that followed the first bites was that of ravenous consumption of the glorious meal they’d been blessed with- still just soup, but it may as well have been an entirely different food for the world of difference between this and what Four and Warriors had produced the night before 

 

Wild hadn’t been wrong at all- even if this was the only thing he could make, he’d just jumped to best cook in the Chain. The flavors of the soup were complex and fully developed, the bread warm and spongy with an amazing crust. Hyrule had his eyes closed in rapture, Legend focused singularly on inhaling the meal as quickly as possible to claim seconds first. 

 

Unfortunately Wild didn’t seem to be enjoying the food as they all were, judging by the arm tucked around his belly and slow, grimacing pace. At Twilight’s gentle inquiry, Wild took a careful breath. “Give me a minute,” he said between clenched teeth, and did his best to fight through the visible nausea casting his cheeks gray.

 

A fifty-fifty chance tonight, then. And a damned shame. The Chain hesitated, caught between ravenous hunger and guilt at Wild’s predicament stopping him from enjoying his own cooked meal. He gave a careless wave of his hand, though, even as he set his spoon down and closed his eyes, covering his face with a hand propped up on the table. “Don’t let me stop you,” he said easily, despite how ill he looked to be feeling. “No point in it getting cold or going to waste- dig in.” 

 

Legend was the first to shamelessly reconvene eating, grabbing a piece of bread and moaning as he bit into it, shoving a spoonful of the soup in as well and all but whimpering in bliss. “Holy shit,” he said as soon as he swallowed, staring starry-eyed at an oblivious, suffering Wild. “He can cook .”

 

Before today, Four would have said it wasn’t possible. 

 

Looks like ninth time was the charm, though. Wild huffed, unmoving from his position, eyes still shut “I told you I could cook well,” he said, and he did not understand how monumental this was. 

 

“No, Time can cook well . This? This is miraculous, “ he said, voice intent as he turned blazing, crimson edged eyes to Wild. “This is beautiful, this is-”

 

“‘M gonna be sick,” Wild said weakly, turning away from the table to draw his faithful bucket under his mouth, sweat gathering at his temples. Sky and Wind immediately skedaddled, the Sailor shoving a few hunks of bread into his mouth and bolting before Wild’s vomiting could put off his appetite. 

 

The Champion breathed jaggedly, neck straining as he sat frozen and fighting. Time sighed, settling at the younger hero’s side. “It’s no use fighting it, Wild. Might as well get it done with.”

 

Wild immediately gave in and Four looked away, mostly unbothered by now after having been present for so many bouts of vomiting but still not able to eat during it. Unlike Legend, the utter heathen, who had his bowl in his hands and was shamelessly gulping it down despite the sounds of illness. Once the Champion was done he glanced back at the grumpy back-of-the-throat sound Wild made, relieved to find him clear-eyed still; sometimes being sick sapped him, leaving him blurry-eyed and dazed, but then again today had been a good day up until now. 

 

A sign of progress that was hopefully not currently being undone. 

 

Legend chewed and swallowed, poking at the last dregs of his soup with no regard for the atmosphere whatsoever. “That’s an onion, but what the hell is this?” he asked, something held up questioningly in his spoon. “What’d you flavor this with?” 

 

Wild’s answer was lost into the bucket with another round of sickness, and Four punched Legend in the arm, hard, as he tentatively tasted the garlic clove in an attempt to figure it out on his own, with the cook currently unavailable for questioning. 

 

Four wasn’t about to tell him, Red all but strangling Vio’s budding flower eagerness in a maroon network of knitted string to keep his mouth shut. 

 

They all waited for Wild to be done, murmuring to one another quietly so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious that they were politely ignoring what was happening. Legend got up for his seconds, way ahead of the rest of them thanks to his horrifying threshold for off-putting… environmental factors in favor of good food. 

 

“Thought I had it that time,” Wild said glumly as Time wiped a damp cloth over the back of his neck, looking utterly done with this whole ordeal. Except not really, because then his shoulders heaved and he choked out a “Shit, fucking-” before dry-heaving painfully, the pitiful amount of food and water in his stomach already thoroughly voided.

 

 He looked awful once he was released from the brutal grip of illness, rail thin and gray-skinned and pretty irate at his condition despite his trembling. Four couldn’t help but feel a trace of midnight-limned admiration for Wild’s capacity to be annoyed at his own body even when he had to be feeling like shit. 

 

Wind’s voice rang out, muffled and hopeful from the closed bedroom. “Can he still keep cooking, though?” Shameless and utterly rude, this lot, and Four was offended on Wild’s behalf. 

 

That said, he also couldn’t help but send a sidelong glance at Time, still bent over an unsteady Wild. “It does make him happy,” Hyrule pointed out tentatively into the fraught silence.

 

“Please?” Wild said beseechingly, sending sunken puppy dog eyes to Time before buckling over the bucket, gagging. They didn’t look away this time, waiting patiently for Time’s reckoning, though Four winced at the timing and how sore Wild was going to be left after this. The Champion subsided shortly enough, blinking back up at Time expectantly. They waited, just to see, but when Wild finally seemed done the sounds of eating resumed quickly.

 

“It’s not very exhausting,” Four pointed out reasonably, voice quiet and soothing. “And we all know he’s been wanting to help out. If he likes doing it and it's not harmful, why not let him?” All valid points, and if they got good food out of it that was just a bonus on the side. 

 

“It’d be unnecessarily mean, really,” Hyrule added, voice muffled around a generous mouthful of food, clutching the chunk of bread Legend shoved into his hand to his chest as he cast hopeful eyes at Time. Wild gave a weak nod before the Old Man stilled the movement with a hand to the back of his neck. 

 

Warriors held strong for longer than Four had thought he would, battling loyalty to previously established rules in the face of meals that didn’t need to be struggled through. Then he looked at Wild, who was looking his most pathetic and hopeful, and caved. “Yes,” he acquiesced, and the rest was almost drowned out by whoops and cheers. “Wild can continue to cook. But only when he’s up to it!” He ducked but was still showered in crumbs as Legend waved a chunk of bread victoriously in the air. “And we have to actually take notes, this is a learning experience, not a one man duty!”

 

Four laughed and raised his bowl in a cheers, clacking it gently against his grandfather’s before the others joined in as well, the hollow wooden clicks lost to excited chatter. Wild soaked it all in with a wondrous expression, eyes drifting over the easy brotherhood playing out before him and with him, Twilight wrapping an arm over his shoulders and Legend prompting his input, no matter how mundane. He was subdued, tired, and clearly still not feeling well, but he was happy, and he belonged just as much as any of them did. 

 

Four knew little past what he’d seen- knew Wild was clever and keen-eyed, thought outside the box and was an excellent archer. Knew he was loyal to a fault and cared more than he should, knew he didn’t value his own life enough except as a means to help others. It was a familiar iteration of the spirit of courage; it was purely and solely Wild’s reflection of it. 

 

Four took another bite of the glorious food, and found it was just one more reason atop a mountain of them that he was glad Wild was here with them. 

 

--------------------------------------------------------------

 

That night Shadow manifested, finally recovered enough to maintain physicality. “It’s been too long,” he said stubbornly, burrowing under the covers and snuggling into Four’s side, even though the Smithy had neither said nor given any indication of arguing. Something purred within him, lavender nostalgia but also rosy sunglow on jade contentment, steel blue humming like rainfall in easy satisfaction. He hugged Shadow closer, his chest swelling with happiness at the weight of the other against him, the warmth and sound of his breathing. 

 

He never thought he’d have this again, had begun to doubt after all these years that it was possible, that he’d ever figure it out, and he hadn’t but here Shadow was anyways. 

 

“I love you,” he said into the night, meaning it with everything he had. 

 

“I never doubted it,” Shadow said, and it means everything when he died for them, when he’d spent so little time allied with the other Colors even if he had known Vio more deeply than anyone else ever had. “I love you, Link,” and the name is intentional, that the affection is for Four as a whole and the Colors that make him up, for Vio who had his heart and the others who had equal devotion,and even if he hadn’t already shown it in the way he’d interacted with the others it was beautiful to hear aloud. 

 

“I love you,” Four said again, and this time it was I’m sorry . Shadow breathed out an easy sigh, brushing their noses together and closing his eyes, resting a warm hand on Four’s side. 

 

“You’re forgiven for whatever you think you’ve done, and it’s best to leave it at that. We don’t need the past to keep haunting us now. I’m here, and I want the future, unhaunted by regrets.” He wiggled, flopping so he was half atop Four, head sprawled over his heart. “This is all I wanted, and I have it now.”

 

I missed you , Four thought fiercely. I’m so scared of losing you again . 

 

But the night was too lovely for fear, and he held his tongue, hugging Shadow loosely and breathing him in as he drifted to sleep. 

 

This was all he’d wanted, too. 

Notes:

Hyrule: OKay, Faron knows everything that happens in their spring, and I need to know what they know so just tell me straight- who here has peed in the water
Wind:
Hyrule: Wind come on I know you’ve done it
Wind: wait what? Nah, the ocean-totally, but a pond? Volume matters
Time: *smirks at the camera*

Wild: *goes through portal and survives*
Hyrule: his condition is: still shitty, still breathing
Chain: A WIN IS A WIN

Twilight: so Four we cleaned up your room a little-
Wind pushing him aside: WE FOUND THE SHRINE TO YOU, WHAT KIND OF GOD ARE YOU THAT THE OFFERINGS ARE SO SHIT

It was in this chapter that I realized by making the time of day/season switch between worlds I made canon to my fic the fact that the Chain gets jetlagged every now and then when they go through portals with like an 8 hour plus difference. Just like, imagine a horrible run of five or so that keeps them trying to adjust their sleep schedules, leaving one world at like 8 PM and arriving at 6 AM somewhere else and being like whelp functional all nighter it is I guess. It’s awful for them and I love it now I need a fic where they’re all different degrees dying from fucked up circadian rhythms rip Time I hear its worse with age

Shadow can take any form he wants, but his default is Four’s mirror, and he likes it so he doesn’t usually bother to change it. That said, he hates how short it is, and gets very protective of Four’s height when others tease him about it in front of him. Four does not give a shit. The beauty of it is that Shadow definitely teases him for being short purely because the irony cracks Four up every time.

I realize that I don’t know how to make soup from scratch, and that I too share Four’s panik when put in charge of an unfamiliar recipe. The instant anything goes wrong I’m screwed. A whole landslide of mistakes get made. It’s nowhere near as bad as this, but it is the template for which their disaster was based on. Love the idea that most of the heroes aren’t so bad if paired with someone competent, but the instant you put two Links together they exponentially worsen whatever they’re making. Wild is the only reverse uno card in the deck capable of escaping this cursed feedback loop.

Not me adding more lore about healing/magic recovery potions. I would never

It was only as I was wrapping this chapter up that I realized you guys may have been hoping for Sky’s POV of Wild getting whooped by a keese. There was more overlap with him than following the other group though, which is why I didn’t do Sky. But maybe someday as a bonus~

Chapter 20: That's a Wrap! (Hug, the Word is Hug)

Summary:

The Chain gets a healthy dose of idyllic bliss before getting right back into the grind of things. Wild finally proves that he is officially back on his bullshit (⌐▨_▨)

Notes:

Chapter Warnings: Blood and Violence, Vomiting

Follow the Lights Equivalent: Chapter 12, second half

Time patiently surveyed everyone as they prepared to move through the portal that had appeared in the early morning hours, before the sun had even drawn a pink blush from the night sky’s horizon yet. It had woken him, Legend and Hyrule, and though they’d agreed to let the others get another hour or two of sleep they stayed awake; Time, at least, found it impossible to fall asleep with the portal nearby, its humming magic subtle but impossible to ignore once noticed. 

 

That, and the unease at what awaited on the other side or could emerge from it at any point kept him on edge, no matter how often they’d done this. The portals had proven themselves not to be totally foolproof with the mishap in Wild’s world, and Time still felt like he was waiting for the other shoe to fall, was still half-expecting to step out and find himself alone again, separated from the others. 

 

With how it had panned out the first time, he really, really hated that he had no control over stopping it from happening again. 

 

Still, at least Hyrule had warned them yesterday that he thought one may be coming, so it wasn’t too harsh of a surprise. Most of the packing was done already, even, which is exactly why he, Time, and Legend were currently sitting peacefully at the kitchen table with nothing much to do but wait. Despite how Hyrule may have spoken hesitantly and stressed that he wasn’t sure , they all knew better by now than to doubt him, no matter how much emphasis Hyrule put on the margin of error; he was far from the best judge of his own credibility and skill. 

 

They were working on it. Legend especially made it a point to loudly boast whenever Hyrule performed one of his spells or had a bountiful forage or managed to steer them clear of a monster pack by reading the signs in the forest. They were making progress, or so Time thought until they arrived back in Hyrule’s world and it all regressed. 

 

It was probably the least explored world of them all, and they’d only been there a handful of times, and to the castle to meet Dawn and Aurora only once. Hyrule’s kingdom was the most ruinous of all of them, even despite the ravaged state of Wild’s world- the people may have fallen under the darkness of the Calamity, but Wild’s Zelda had contained the Malice within the castle well enough that the wilderness still thrived. 

 

Wild’s world held the somber, reclaimed atmosphere of an abandoned cemetery, the loss softened by time and distance. Hyrule’s, in contrast,  was an animal caught in a trap- still straining to survive, weakened but desperate. The people and plants and animals alike poisoned by Ganon’s darkness leached into the ground and air, Hyrule’s victory too little and too late to completely eradicate the destroyed lands he’d inherited. 

 

It did not lessen what Hyrule had accomplished- no, it was more impressive for the disadvantages the fallen world had laid upon the Traveller’s shoulders. If Ganon was a tree that grew to overshadow Hyrule, then most of the heroes cut him down as a sapling, still soft wooded and aspiring, but young, yet, unestablished. Hyrule was born long after Ganon had risen above and drowned out the sun for his world, roots spreading deep across the land. Even if he’d killed him, the remnant husk of his power still shadowed the kingdom and would for years yet, and there was nothing to do but wait for the lingering corpse to grow brittle and break away as time passed. 

 

Hyrule had done his duty, and done it well, but the very nature of his lands made it nigh impossible to tell, not when the forests were still dead and monsters still roamed unfettered and more furious than before. It was better, the Traveller claimed, but as long as people starved and water remained poisonous and acid rain poured from the heavens it was not enough. Worst was that he was punished for it, despite having done all he could; Hyrule was not welcome in towns by his own admission, was treated with contempt and cruelty beyond even the already frigid, suspicious nature of his people to strangers. 

 

He was the Traveller for a reason- not welcome anywhere except the castle, and even there he could not linger, not when the hero was needed everywhere, monsters constantly attacking across the kingdom. 

 

Time hated it, and hated that world, hated that he couldn’t blame them for their bitterness when it was his own mirrored back at an innocent. All his contempt at being the only one who could save them all , at the way his life could never go back to the way it was, his mind fitting all wrong inside his body, his home in the woods closed to him, now. He’d blamed the world for needing everything from him to survive, leaving nothing for him once it was all finished; Hyrule’s hated him for an empty victory. 

 

He hated most of all that he understood. He knew how desperation killed kindness, knew how it looked to the people still suffering under rotting land that nothing but time could heal. And Goddesses above, but Hyrule didn’t deserve it; Hyrule, whose life had never been anything but awful, whose monsters seemed to actively hunt him as if specifically seeking revenge for their master’s death at Hyrule’s hands, bloodthirsty and intent in a way that explained all too well the Traveller’s twitchy nature and hunted, harrowed demeanor when they first met him. 

 

He bloomed outside his world, bright-eyed and curious and relaxed in a way he couldn’t afford to be within his own lands, and it hurt, seeing him revert to the shifty-eyed, near-silent recluse when the portal dropped them off onto poisoned, blackened land. They never fared well in his world, their group too large to go unnoticed as Hyrule alone may have, but the monsters were so numerous, so powerful still from decades spent bloating themselves on Malice and misery that he couldn’t bear to picture the Traveller inevitably being caught alone.

 

Time had noticed, of course, how Hyrule preferred to avoid conflict where possible, when there were no people nearby to be endangered by monsters left alone. Knew Warriors, who was always focused on eradicating future threats and preemptive action, noticed as well. It took only one visit to kill any criticism of the non-confrontational approach, a handful of days where they used most of their potions and two fairies and still stumbled through the portal out injured enough to be stopped for two days. 

 

They hadn’t even won, was the worst part- they’d been being relentlessly pursued even as the portal arrived, and only barely keeping ahead of the slavering pack waiting for the injured to succumb when they were taken to a different world. 

 

Time could still see the shameful way Hyrule avoided their eyes as he suggested they go around the group of monsters that had wrought such damage, and at the time none of them had understood well enough to agree. It was only after seeing for himself what degree of bloodthirsty monsters awaited in Hyrule’s land that he had spoken directly to the Traveller in private, limping and still bandaged from the injuries that weren’t even the worst of what had been accrued. He’d tried to apologize, to explain that he knew their doubt was undeserved, to assure the downcast hero avoiding his eye that it wasn’t cowardice to have told them to leave enemies untouched, but wisdom to avoid a fight that couldn’t be won without casualties.  

 

He knew, even then, that his words didn’t touch the bleeding self-hatred within the other. Something in Hyrule’s eyes showed there was more going unsaid, but the Traveller held his secrets tight, and Time wouldn’t pry, not when it looked like Hyrule would fall apart without those walls in place. 

 

Not when it was their lack of faith that had injured the trust between them, and nearly gotten him and themselves killed.  

 

Hyrule’s world had been saved as much as was possible, and that was the most hopeless thing of all. It wasn’t something they could fix. The knowledge of what it was like remained a fear that waited beyond that final portal;  a threat to their brother they couldn’t extinguish, not when it predated even this Dark enemy. 

 

One day, Hyrule would have to return to that guilt, that misery, that danger. 

 

Alone, and the thought was all the more abhorrent for how tightly their souls were currently entwined.

 

(Though, he’d seen the determined set of Legend’s jaw when the end was mentioned, Hyrule’s gaze downcast, his misery more palpable than any of the others. The Vet wasn’t planning to let go so easily, and if anyone had the wits and audacity to deny Hylia her reslotting the heroes in their own worlds after all this, it was certainly Legend in relation to Hyrule.

 

Not that he’d be trying to figure it out alone-they’d all had the same realization of what awaited them, and none were willing to part ways forever. Even Sky didn’t want to place all his trust in Hylia’s mercy towards the active nine-way soulbond.)

 

They weren’t done yet, though, and this portal would not be their last. 

 

It was, however, the first one Wild was properly aware of enough to shamelessly admire, to his own detriment and everyone else’s chagrin. The reaction was understandable- the portals were undeniably hypnotic, but most of the wonder dissipated with the headache the odd swirling phenomena generated, unless you were Four or Legend or Wild , who really did not have equilibrium and steadiness enough to tolerate the resultant dizziness from staring relentlessly at an optical illusion. 

 

For something as harmless as this though, Time was content to let the Champion make his own mistakes. Twilight was at his side if he did fall over, though Time suspected Wild wouldn’t be embarrassed by that nearly enough to dissuade him from continuing to ogle the odd nothingness from the passage through space. Their newest companion had proven refreshingly accepting of help where it was needed, rather shamelessly having them carry him or help him walk to and fro, wringing every allowance he could from them to keep from being bed bound. 

 

It was a tremendous relief. Under the care of the Chain and with the gracious hosting of Four’s grandfather at his house Wild had finally - finally - began to improve, and now, almost a week out from leaving his world, he was only just beginning to keep food down consistently, strong enough to move around on his own for short bursts. To an outsider it wouldn’t seem like much, but knowing how it had been, Wild barely tipping back from death’s cruel grip only to teeter on the edge for another few days, even having him wobble around like a newborn calf was wildly victorious. 

 

There was still a frailty about him that had the Chain all sticking close and treating him maybe a touch too carefully, but- well, Time couldn’t help it either, not when Wild’s cheekbones were knife sharp and his neck painfully slender, collarbones and wrists jutting wickedly under blue-veined skin. Wild was entirely lucid, now, those viciously bright eyes scanning around him, always, but he still tired quickly, that spark dimming and frame drooping trustingly against the nearest hero, letting them wrap him in cloaks or blankets or back into bed without complaint, so long as they let him back out of it once he’s awake again. 

 

He has to be one of the best patients of them all, and Time genuinely did not see that coming, not after the rash of bull-headedness and willful ignorance of Wild’s body demanding rest that got them into this whole mess. Maybe that was a fluke, though. 

 

Golden Goddesses, Time hopes so. 

 

But for now Wild’s fully charged off of a full night’s sleep and breakfast, and if he wants to ruin it by staring himself sick at the portal then he’s a grown hylian. Legend disagreed, of course, physically spinning Wild around from it and promptly getting into a trash talking tiff with Four and Warriors. Time let them have their fun, keeping his smile small at their antics. 

 

Finally, everyone was ready to go, and he moved towards Hyrule and Sky, a silent indication that they were leaving soon and to wrap up their bullying and get their last few jabs in now. He and Sky sandwiched Hyrule between them and moved through with little fanfare, calmly enduring the rush of incomprehensible space time as they passed through it and back into grass and sunshine. Behind him, Hyrule wavered as he caught his footing, Sky disguising the supporting grip on his arm as he guided the Traveller from the portal exit; sometimes Rule didn’t take the portal jumps all that well, but though he’d gone pale and slightly wobbly he was still functional and focusing fine, waiting for the others to come through. Time took a few mores steps farther into the newest Hyrule, blinking around at the familiar fields about them for a moment before he felt his heart leap in joy, because this was his world, and it was close enough to home-

 

Wind skipped out of the portal, immediately turning to catch Four as he spilled out of the whirling exit, dragging him clear for Legend, whose sharp eyes scanned over their surroundings as he herded the pair to the side to give the remaining heroes space to exit. There was, after all, a reason they only went through three at a time, and learning that the portal exit is the worst place for pile ups was no fun at all; it was early enough that they were all still wobbly after passing through the portals, and it had taken one misstep by Hyrule for the whole unsteady group to go down as they exited, very much blocking the others from coming out. Four was, unfortunately,  caught lingering within that liminal space between worlds alongside Time while a tangle of heroes tried to clear up room on the other side. 

 

(There was no communicating in that place, even after he’d tried to step out and promptly been blocked by a teetering body. Time had considered going back and dragging Four with him, once a second had passed and the Smithy’s presence continued to writhe like a snake in its death throes beside him, but- 

 

They couldn’t risk being split between worlds if the portal closed, and there was no telling if the other end was still open or not, with all of them having passed through it. 

 

Nothing to do but wait the handful of seconds and try not to look at the endless universe around them, painfully aware of the delicate protection of the Goddess that felt fragile of a bubble against the overwhelming vastness of the between.)

 

Time had been dizzy and nauseous when they stepped out -only maybe ten seconds later by everyone’s testimony- but that had paled in comparison to how scarily sick Four was. They’d been worried it had done permanent damage; the smallest hero’s symptoms had not only been worse than usual, but had not abated as they normally did after an hour, seeming to almost worsen as the day passed into evening and into night. 

 

The little Smithy’s eyesight had been affected even after he woke up, his coordination absolutely shot to the point he hadn’t been able to stand without tipping over within a minute. It was clear now that his Colors must have been horribly scrambled from the prolonged exposure to the liminal space within the portals, but at the time it had been terrifying to see Four brought low by his own body. Hyrule had been absolutely wracked with guilt when night fell and the little hero still hadn’t recovered at all. The next day had brought some blessed improvement, but it had been a solid two days before Four was fighting fit again, and longer still for the frequent confusion and vacant-mindedness to fade back to his usual sharp-eyed, quick-witted self. 

 

They broke into smaller groups after that, no matter how uneasy it made them to spread apart. It was disconcerting for all of them, the numb feeling the soulbond gave when they were on opposite sides of the portal. Different from sheer distance, the sensation was more like a limb fallen asleep; something that should work, should feel, suddenly nonfunctional and numbed. It was painless but unnerving, and someday this was just how it would be. 

 

It was better than the alternative of pain or madness, but that was the best that Time could say of it and what it meant.

 

As he watched Four stumble and collapse into four, Time couldn’t help but grimace; they’d been meaning to test out if going through separated helped Four with portal sickness, but had been putting it off out of sheer force of habit and maybe, he suspected, a little fear on the Smithy’s part that it would -Goddess forbid- be worse .  At first, it seemed that splitting did help, Red rolling to his feet and Blue sitting up, except Green wasn’t moving as Legend knelt beside him, and Vio was curling up and shaking his head as Wind nudged him with a foot. 

 

Time mused over the soulbond with Four’s components, but the results were… inconclusive, to his bemusement. The Colors were odd in the landscape of their soulbond, like looking at several transparent copies of the same picture overlaid on one another. They were, somehow, still Four, in a way. One soulbond that split in a manner he couldn’t instinctively understand as he did the other connections within his mind, the splay giving him an excess of feedback that was confusing to parse. Time focused on the heat drenching bone deep- mirror image lagging behind- light splitting through a prism into a rainbow and he could almost tell there was some degree of tint that with practice would probably let him know which emotion belonged to whom, but for now he just knew that amongst them was a sense of worry and illness and exasperation. 

 

Sky’s eyebrows pinched together in soft concern, his voice a low rumble. “And here we were hoping they’d be better off,” he murmured sympathetically, watching as Shadow drew up out of darkness and bullied Vio into drooping against his shoulder. 

 

The portal hummed once more, then, and Warriors waltzed out of the warped space, Twilight and Wild following a second later. Time finally relaxed as their presences hummed comfortably within his mind once more, settling as that mental nexus of the Chain’s souls lay whole and complete. The odd distortion twisted in on itself, eating up from the inside out and vanishing with a dizzying ripple. The Champion’s knees buckled on the first step free, his head lolling forward as he went totally boneless. Twilight took it in stride, adjusting his arm around the unconscious hero and easing him to the ground- Wild fainting was, unfortunately, not terribly uncommon at this point in his recovery, but unsettling still, even if it wasn’t frightening anymore. The Pup glanced around at the others and the world they’d been placed within, his features relaxing a moment later as he caught Time’s serene demeanor. 

 

He nodded to Twilight’s silent question, but didn’t bother to verbalize it yet; no one was listening anyways, between hovering over Wild and Green, who was very much unconscious. Breeze brushing through windchimes in a joyous, careless clamor- wilting leaves springing up under long- awaited rainfall bloomed once more within his mind where Wild was slowly stirring, and content that the Champion was no worse off from the portal Time stepped towards the Colors instead, leaving Hyrule and Warriors to close ranks around the groggy, freshly-fainted hero. 

 

Wind dodged past him to investigate the fields around them, Sky wandering at his heels to ensure he didn’t do anything too rambunctious. Time ruffled the Sailor’s hair as he passed, but though the younger hylian yelped and waved his hands irritably about his head he didn’t slow down from the brisk trot straight into the prairie grass, sending a waspish look over his shoulder before turning and immediately batting a spiderweb away from his face with a sputter. Sky stopped before the tall grass, hanging close to the group as he watched Wind wade into the prairie. Content that there should be nothing dangerous enough in this stretch of land that the pair couldn’t handle, Time let them be. 

 

Legend glanced after them, crouched beside Blue where he sat with his knees up and his arms propped atop them, head buried. Despite this, he was carrying on a muted conversation with the Vet, trying to puzzle out why Red was fine and they weren’t. Said Color was hovering at the very edge of acceptable range to Vio, Shadow at the purple-clad hero’s side making smug faces at the other forest-eyed hylian as he rubbed the downed Color’s shoulder.

 

Vio, meanwhile, looked pallid and queasy where he was sat on the ground, back hunched and hands splayed to the sides to steady himself.  He was sending withering glares at 

Green while clearly trying to listen to Blue and Legend, though the way his lips were clamped and that he wasn’t speaking hinted that nausea was hitting him particularly hard. Shadow frowned lightly, voice unhappy as he muttered “Guess portal sickness is just inevitable for you, Vio.” 

 

“Lucky me,” the unfortunate hylian forced out in a thready voice, managing to sound pissy despite how the color drained from his lips as he promptly shut back up. 

 

“Yeah, thanks Vio- you’re the one who’s been making Four nauseous this whole time, you delicate asshole,” Blue said, and it was delectably cruel in how Vio was currently incapacitated and unable to explain that wasn’t right at all, not really by the furious look he sent his brother. His shoulders heaved, though, as he parted his lips to set Blue straight, and instead Vio stayed quiet and miserable and thoroughly persecuted. 

 

Red’s weak, “But you have a headache, how’s that bet-” as he wandered closer to the hunched hero was cut off with a blind, solid punch to the arm, sending Red skittering closer to Vio again. The purple clad hero’s glare was no less venomous as he hunched tighter around his stomach, and Time took one step towards him and received the same warning gaze, raising his hands and obediently moving towards Red instead, since apparently everyone but Shadow was banned from caring too loudly at the moment. 

 

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked the little one, who seemed particularly guilty for not being similarly beleaguered like his brothers. Red glanced at him, then turned fully his way when Time settled into a squat next to him to pluck a fiery wildflower -hawkweed, burning orange and bright red- and offer it to the smaller hero. 

 

Thoroughly charmed, Red smiled at him, taking the flower and carefully lifting a beetle off of a petal to place on another plant as he answered. “I’m fine, mostly- Green was out right away, and I don’t think Vio’s going anywhere soon without being sick. I’m just… maybe a little tired, a little shaky, but the dizziness faded almost right away. Same for Blue, plus the headache, but though it’s unpleasant he could shake it off if he had to. Is that what it’s usually like for you guys?” He asked curiously, lips parting in faint astonishment when Time nodded. And ah, but that sent a pang of sympathy through him, that the world switching had been such a consistently harsh ordeal that even Blue’s headache and Vio’s nausea -a bad experience by any of the other hero’s standards- was practically a relief to Four’s Colors.

 

“A moment to get used to the shift, but usually the effects are minor and short-lived,” Time answered easily. “There’s always exceptions, but I couldn’t tell you what it is that makes them worse past say, a concussion.” 

 

That was the only occasion Time had truly struggled with the portals, and one he was glad to never repeat; once was plenty enough to feel the proper amount of sympathy towards Four’s plight. It was probably the sickest he’d been while with the Chain, and they’d panicked in a manner completely disproportionate to the symptoms and suffering that were only to be expected from a nasty concussion and subsequent space-time wormholes. 

 

Even level-headed Warriors and cucumber-cool Legend had looked distinctly frazzled when he’d slithered to the ground and been sick- something he’d managed to avoid before then and in the day since he’d been injured, all put to waste by Hylia and her brilliantly timed world jumps. Though, if anyone’s reputation was tarnished by the whole ordeal, it was likely not his - the entire Chain acted completely unprepared to see him brought so low. 

 

His was not the first concussion the group had seen or treated. They should not be so panicky as to have him follow three different heroes’ fingers in the span of minutes, nor did he deserve to be woken up almost every half hour by a fluttering hylian asking a dozen questions and freaking out when he’s too slow to respond after two hours of sleep at best, Hyrule, please.

 

They’d subsided as he recovered, only to promptly and completely relapse when he took a glancing blow to the temple two weeks later. Utter chaos. Instant camp, early bedtime, Wolfie laying on his lap and stopping him from doing anything to ‘strain himself’ all night, several grudging sips of potion and far too much bandaging for what was essentially a scrape. 

 

Gods, but he does love them, truly. 

 

Red nodded in understanding, opening his mouth only to be interrupted by Vio scrambling to a patch of bushes and finally being sick. “Oh no,” he mourned, sympathy bleeding across Four’s fine features, cherry red eyes more emotive than he was used to seeing from the Smithy. “It was supposed to fix it for all of us, splitting up.”

 

Warriors’ voice rose to the side in exasperation, lamenting Wild’s portal viewing setting him up for fainting, and Time opted to ignore it, speaking over Legend’s predictable offended “Hey!” as Warriors dragged him into the line of fire, most likely out of pure habit rather than conscious thought.

 

“This is better, though,” he pointed out to Red, because it certainly was. Even if Vio was nauseous, at least he was conscious and able to move his own body; Four could sometimes be out of commission for hours after a portal, all but helpless. Vio may be miserable, but judging by that earlier glare he was still capable of stabbing something, even if Blue was off limits by virtue of sharing the injury as Four. “He may be sick-”

 

Vio’s retort cut him off, demanding their attention with how indignant he sounded despite the pathetic picture he cut with his hands on his knees and pale, sweaty face.” Where do you think all progress comes from, hm? That it just pops up from the ground like flowers in spring?” Shadow hovered at his side, grimacing as his crimson gaze darted between the back of Vio’s head and Warriors.

 

The Captain’s smug look faded very quickly indeed as the barb aimed towards Legend drew a reaction from Vio, alarm crossing his face as the Color stabbed a finger his way, gagging. Out of view Shadow cut a hand back and forth across his throat, but it was far too late- Vio’s ire had been triggered, and neither hasty retreat on Warriors’ part nor the driving urge to vomit could stop him now. 

 

“It may just be idiotic staring to you -and when done by you - but that phenomenon is a wealth of data, and-” Vio’s shoulders jolted, but he gamely continued. “- and ob-observation is just- hrk-”   He lost the fight against his stomach, but seconds later was standing and continuing as he panted, Shadow’s hands fluttering anxiously about his trembling form. “Repeatability is important, and the chance to view it is an opp-opportu-” 

 

Ah. Four always was one of the more stubborn of them. 

 

Vio tried again to speak before Shadow’s patience snapped. “Holy shit, Vio, stop! Just shut up and be sick! ” He yelped, darting to Blue’s shadow and staring balefully out from it; Vio was utterly unaffected, preoccupied with retching up the last of his stomach into the grass.

 

Blue groaned, burying his head farther into his arms, though the sound was more irritated than pained. That made no difference to Red, who jumped to his feet and gave a displeased frown to the chattering heroes, raising his voice to be heard over them.“Guys be quiet, come on!”

 

A pointed look of exasperation from Legend and Red jumped, hands darting to cover his mouth in belated realization and far more horror than the slip deserved. Sky was more than happy to tuck Red under his arm as Blue rolled his eyes in their direction, brushing off most of the worry.  

 

“Red’s right, everyone,” Time said magnanimously, letting his tone draw attention rather than raising his voice. “Calm down. We’re in my time, on Hyrule Field near-” and by then he stopped as they all cheered over him, because the boys already knew full well what that meant in his world:

 

The ranch, and Malon. Rest and companionship and safety, and the rare chance for Time to reunite with his wife. It meant they weren’t going to be thrown back into the fray quite yet, that this lucky stretch of calm would last a little while longer.  

 

It was the closest to gracious Time has felt towards Hylia in a long, long time. 

 

Blue weathered the noise with admirable grace, just as enthusiastic as the others were. Twilight was all but bouncing on his feet, only barely restraining himself from jostling Wild in his excitement. “You’re going to love Malon, Wild! Lon Lon Ranch is one of the best places we get dropped off by. Yes!” He whooped, and Wild laughed helplessly along as he was pulled gently to his feet, ears perking in bright-eyed excitement as well. 

 

The cheery atmosphere held as they set out, even with Wild and Green consigned to piggy-backs. Blue’s crankiness eased off after he succeeded in chasing a hovering Legend off with a hammer, and Vio was determined to walk on his own despite looking green around the gills still, threatening to vomit on anyone who tried to carry him. 

 

He went on to prove it wasn’t an empty threat by being miserably sick again before they headed out, at least looking slightly more at ease if shaky from the bouts of illness. Shadow was at his side, though, and Time at least wasn’t leary enough of vomit to let Vio force himself past his limits. Considering all that, the mood remained surprisingly light; it was a beautiful day, there was no danger here, and they were headed to one of their favorite waypoints.

It wasn’t too hard to be cheery, in light of that.

 

Even Time found himself walking with more pep in his step than usual, his mood almost giddy . These lands were almost painfully familiar to him, long traveled since his misadventures as a child. He didn’t usually have reason to come this way, but visited it often specifically because of that; there was nothing here but open, wild fields and forest, the perfect place to get away from the bustle of the ranch for an afternoon. This was the Chain’s first time traveling through this particular area, though, so he took care to share about the surroundings, stopping to show Wind which plant could be crushed to loose a citrusy, tropical scent, and smiling when the Sailor sent wide seal-dark eyes up to him. “It smells like pineapple!  Is it your version of it?” 

 

“Pineapple?” Time parroted back, bemused. “Is that a pine needle variant of apple trees?” Though even as he said it he felt doubt; Wind’s world didn’t have any coniferous trees that he’d seen. 

 

Wind’s eyes widened even further. “Oh man, next time we’re in my world I’ve got to show you them- big, head sized scaly yellow fruit with spiky green leaves on top, tastes like this smells,” he said, sniffing at the pulped plant on his fingertips again, smile softening with nostalgia. “They’ve been harder to find now that the ocean’s pulled back, but Gran always roasted them over the fire and they’re amazing .”

 

And that sent Wind off on a tangent of island cuisine, which Legend , of all people, immediately joined in on- seems like the Vet really had been everywhere and dabbled in everything. Most of it went over Time’s head, admittedly; he’d never been to the ocean, and many of the ingredients they described he’d seen on the market but never been curious enough to pay the hefty price to sample them. Neither he nor Malon cared to be so adventurous, and when they were they still only tended more towards the spicier Gerudo specialties. 

 

Then that conversation slowly petered off, and the group was uncharacteristically quiet for a while, and Time fairly prickled with the need to set them back to rights. And he wasn’t usually the one to fill the silence, but well- this was his world, and if there was anything he was happy to ramble about it was going to be plants and animals and there were plenty of both around them. 

 

So he took care to keep an eye on everyone, watching for signs of interest or silent curiosity; he felt responsible in his Hyrule to answer any questions he could, even if they were unasked from misguided self-censoring. Vio seemed to like watching the wind ripple through the expanse of grass, and with Sky it was the birds flitting over the grasses and singing from places unseen. Hyrule especially was avidly curious, those warm pine-green eyes lingering on the flowers they passed by, and Time began to narrate what he knew of them- it was not an insignificant amount of information, between his upbringing in the forest, decades lived within the biome, and his own interest in the flora. 

 

In the end, Time ended up keeping an easy flowing lecture on the world around them even after the boys loosened up and fell into their usual shenanigans to pass the time traveling, and even though his audience chanced and shifted as the others lost and gained interest depending on the topic of his fact-sharing, Hyrule stayed mostly at his side, growing more at ease and excited as Time welcomed his questions and observations. 

 

Then he made the mistake of off-handedly motioning towards a grove of trees, a little inclusion of forest reaching into the plains. “That’s my favorite spot to visit,” Time said fondly. “Not much there this time of year, but even when the flowers aren’t blooming the grass is soft and the shade welcome. Too far out of the way for us, but it’s a nice treat on a summer day with nothing to do.”

 

Twilight perked up, craning his neck towards the innocuous cluster, head tipping back and forth between it and the distant ranch steadily nudging closer. “Have you taken Malon there? I bet she’d love the flowers too,” Twilight mused aloud, utterly oblivious to the immediate devilish smirks adapted by Warriors and Legend, like sharks scenting blood in the water. 

 

Time blinked and they were suddenly bracketing him on either side, Legend having left Blue temporarily in care of Sky. “A nice out of the way meadow with a beautiful view? C’mon Twi, there’s no way Malon hasn’t been,” Warriors crooned, leaning into his shoulder as Legend gave him a coy side eye. “The grass was soft, you said? Nice, so that way no one gets poked too har -oof.”

 

Time’s elbow served perfectly well to silence the Captain, but even as he danced away the glitter in his eyes proved he knew he was the one to land a direct hit. “By a stick,” Warriors finished airily. “Or any other hard-” Whack “-Okay, sorry! A good picnic spot though, from the looks of it. The perfect place to eat out.” 

 

Wind looked over, and Warriors’ eyes, previously half lidded and lazily amused, immediately widened in horror.

 

“-side,” Legend picked up seamlessly, already having stepped out of range, pausing to distract Hyrule by pointing out a spiderwort. Time narrowed his eye playfully at the Vet, who only preened and batted his eyes innocently. “Good thing nothing’s blooming though, you’d hate to deflower ‘em by rolling about.” 

 

Time turned his head and gave a slow, toothy smile, because for all their teasing he had a sneaking suspicion that they absolutely did not want the details, and he knew a sure-fire way to kill any remaining impishness. “You know what?” He said brightly, eye flat as he sent them a cool smile. “You seem curious enough- I’ll let Malon know to chat with you about it.” Legend froze, eyeing him suspiciously. 

 

“The.. meadow?” He tried, trepidation blooming in his eyes, recoiling when Time’s smile widened. 

 

“The Talk. Malon’s less shy than I am, much better suited,” he said pleasantly, as if he wasn’t underhandedly using the Chain’s respect for his wife and horror at his sex life as a deterrent to being bullied.

 

“You wouldn’t- she wouldn’t,” Legend said with narrowed eyes, but the uncertainty grew as Time met his gaze. 

 

“She absolutely would, and she’s not afraid to use anecdotes,” Time said, halfway between smug and despairing because she would absolutely force him to be present as well if she ever did actually do it. Might just be worth it, though, so long as he could drag the others down with him into the pit of humiliation. 

 

Mutually assured destruction, and all that. 

 

Legend sputtered at the thought of Malon, of all people, teaching him how sex works. “I do not need the Talk, thank you very much, and you keep the details of your- your canoodling to yourself, Old Man!” And he hustled to Sky and Twilight, who had also fled the instant the conversation turned towards things he really’d rather not hear about. Sky gave the Vet an indulgent smile but made no comment, even though there was absolutely no way he hadn’t overheard, being courteously quiet for Green and Blue and Vio.  

 

Wars backed up with his hands in the air as Time turned his head to him. “No, that’s alright, the meadow sounds lovely and all but I don’t need to hear anymore. No need to bother Malon.” 

 

“She’d be happy to do an equivalent exchange of stories-”

 

“No!” Warriors yelped, cheeks coloring, aghast at the thought. “It’s- Wind! Find something cool? Letmetakealook,” and with that the Captain beat an inelegant retreat to their youngest member, who was only too happy to offer his clasped hands and free the frog within to spring at a distracted Warriors’ face.

 

Once eyes were off him, Time let out a sigh of relief, because that could have backfired magnificently if Malon were even an ounce less intimidating.

 

Good grief; they hadn’t even seen her again yet, and she was already saving Time’s ass and reputation.

 

How did he get so lucky? 

 

His heart squeezed in his chest at how close they were, at all he had to tell her, good and bad. Time desperately needed to see her again, to hold her close and hear her laugh and just talk with her like normal, to assure himself that she was doing alright with him gone. The ranch stood in the distance, a promise. 

 

If the group’s pace picked up a little to match his after that, well- no one called him out on it. 

 

------------------------------------------------

 

By the time they entered under the Ranch’s arched gate it was afternoon and only just coming off the hottest part of the day, and more than one of the fairer heroes were reddened by the sun. Wild was still awake, if notably worn from playing around a little too much instead of resting, sapped from sunlight and laughter. Time had been hearing Epona’s welcoming whinnies on the wind for a half hour now, the aged mare sharp as ever when it came to catching his impending arrival.  

 

Malon was there waiting, dusty and glistening with sweat from working under the sun, her hair riddled with fly-aways escaping its serviceable braid. She grinned as they came close, opening her arms as Time surged forward, sweeping her up and spinning her around, her delighted laugh drawing an answering spill of booming, joyous laughter from him. He settled her back on the ground, nuzzling their noses together before giving her a fond kiss. She kept her hands firmly gripping his waist to hold him close; he was a tall hylian, but she was tall too, those warm golden brown eyes cast only far enough up to catch the sunlight as her gaze roamed over his face, checking for any signs of harm or stress. 

 

Wordlessly, she brought a hand to his face, thumbing lightly over the shadowed bags under his closed eye; though Wild had been better, Time found it hard to sleep while he was so weak, still, ever afraid of waking to the bond between them shattering apart once more. He knows he wasn’t the only one, either, all of them more tired than they should have been despite the safety and kind hospitality of Four’s home. 

 

Malon brushed a kiss over his cheek, keen eyes catching Wars and Legend uncharacteristically looking away instead of giving their usual wolf-whistles at every show of affection. Her lips curved into a smile against his skin as she lingered there, smelling of horses and hard work and nothing very charming at all, yet utterly captivating to his senses simply as herself. She drew back far enough for the Chain to look their way once more, only to adjust her grip on his hips and guide him smoothly down into a dip, capturing his lips in a much fiercer kiss than before. 

 

Time managed to hide his startle, one hand slipping from her elbow up to cup her bicep, the muscles under his easy hold flexed taut and steady despite his considerable bulk weighing in her arms. This time there was a series of yelps and whoops from the others, and he was somewhat smug to find that Warriors was sending a rueful smile their way rather than the expected devious wink.

 

Time thoroughly welcomed home, Malon turned to doling out greetings to the boys, exchanging short salutations with each as she ensured they felt welcome, missed, loved. Twilight was first with a fond peck on the cheek, the Captain swooping in to lift her hand for a respectful kiss before dipping into an elegant bow. She did not deign to curtsy in return, though Time knew she had proper form from the rare pompous ceremonies he’d been forced to attend as the hero, but adjusted his scarf once he stood from where it had slipped before moving on. 

Legend received a handshake, and Time couldn’t help but be impressed by Malon’s ability to stifle the urge to pull him into a crushing hug, even if he’d have loved to see the Vet try to wiggle free without seeming rude. The remaining bunch held no such reservations, though, and shamelessly piled on for a hug, leaving Malon beaming amidst the Colors and Wind and Hyrule’s affection, drawing a skittish Shadow in as well with nary a sign of hesitance.

And the whole time Wild stood apart, the Chain’s gladness at seeing Malon again too infectious for him to be truly anxious, but uncertain nonetheless, watching quietly and making no motion forward, as if afraid of intruding. Malon noticed as well, but took her cues from Time, letting the boys clear away and waiting for him to step to Wild’s side, gently supporting the younger hero’s elbow as he gestured towards her. 

“This is Malon, my life partner and proud owner of Lon Lon Ranch,” he introduced fondly, but her eyes were only for Wild, smiling warmly as she slowly approached. “This,” he said in grand, rich tones, “is Wild .”

He let his affection easily into his voice, doing nothing to hide the potent pride at everything the Champion had faced and still managed to come out on the other side alive and kind and funny and still so painfully brave. “He faced an incarnation of Ganon so destructive and disastrous they named him Calamity- twice. A clever trick from our ancient companion nearly won him victory, but the hero’s spirit is not so easily beaten by overwhelming odds,” he said with a fierce commiserative grin towards Wild, who stared back, wide-eyed at Time’s shameless bragging on his behalf. 

 

Time let his features soften, then, his words heartfelt and passionate. “You should see his world, Malon! Forests and wilderness and the kind of peace you’ve always complained you thought you’d get here on Hyrule Field before I arrived,” he said cheekily, shifting to rest his hands lightly on Wild’s shoulders, lips curving up as the Champion’s shocked gaze turned to Malon, perplexed by the warmth and adoration facing his introduction.

 

 “You’d love it there- I’ve never seen so many wild horses, and stables are the one of the most important networks in place. His archery is magnificent as well, and he’s a fantastic cook.” At that Malon’s lips quirked, her eyes narrowing playfully as she arched a brow at him, and he acquiesced with an easy, “By your standards, love, not just mine.” 

 

And Time knew there was no need to line up similarities for them to bond over, but he couldn’t help it. Wild wasn’t going to tell her these things, but they deserved to be shared; his victories, the beauty of his world, all the little quirks that made up the compassionate, curious hero before him. His voice softened, then, and he moved to Wild’s side, offering a hand to Malon. “The portal split us up, and Wild risked his life time and time again to see us to safety, for naught but it being the right thing to do. He saved us as nothing more than strangers, well before he knew anything of us or the bond between us. It took days to rescue us from monsters and storms and danger and twice that to recover even within a healing fountain, and he still nearly died; many of us wouldn’t be here now if not for him.” 

 

Time tilted his head towards Wild. “He’s a good man, and a kind one, and he is one of ours.” Pride lined every ringing word, total belief in what he was saying. Wild’s mind ached with joy and disbelief, gripping Time’s arm as his lips parted in wonder, tears a bright sheen over his eyes. 

 

Malon beamed at the newest member of the Chain, nodding easily at what she’d been told. “One of you for sure, then, even if the features didn’t give it away,” she said fondly, holding her hands before her for Wild to grasp. “Thank you, Wild, for helping them, and for doing it well enough that I may be honored to meet you after it all and get to know for myself the newest of Time’s boys. I’m glad I got the chance,” she said with easy honesty, squeezing Wild’s hands as he rested them in hers. He made no motion to pull away, instead leaning towards her, seeming entranced by her warmth. 

 

Malon noted the silent yearning and answered in kind, cupping Wild’s cheek. “You’ve the same shape of the face, even if you’ve a prettier nose than my Link’s.” Time’s eye instantly darted to the others, noting with resignation the delight on Wind’s face and the glances exchanged between Wars and Legend promising new fodder for campfire heckling. “Kind eyes, too- all of you do, though at least you’re not hiding yours behind sass and sarcasm ,” she said pointedly. 

 

Time sent a smug smile at Legend only to turn back to find his wife’s unimpressed eyes on him , a wheeze rising up behind him. 

 

“Well- you fit right in, though I suspect that means you’re as mischievous as the rest of them- someone snuck a distinctly shit-stirring streak into that hero’s spirit, and I fear none of you are safe from it. I’m glad to hear you can cook for a change though,” she declared, tipping her head. “I’ll need help feeding them, and maybe we can compare recipes or techniques- it’s always interesting, seeing how it differs between your worlds, but they’re usually not too much help in actually making any more than one or two specialties. Hopeless, and I can only pray you’ve not had reason to realize yet.” 

 

Wild’s voice was soft, starting hesitant but quickly loosening up as he fell into the sneaky trap of bonding over exasperation. “I have,” he said mournfully. “They made something they called a soup and it was awful, Malon, I didn’t even know it could be that bad and I had to eat it. If I hadn’t already been ill I swear that meal would have done my stomach in all on its own,” he bemoaned, head closed in remembered dismay. 

 

Time saw his wife’s eyes catch on the prominent signs of illness still clear across Wild’s features, her thumb still resting over the sharp blade of his cheekbone. She glanced at the way his clothes hung loosely on him, frowning heavily. Wild only dipped his chin in something like shame, despite the fact that he was only so weakened for their sake. Malon couldn’t bear it, drawing him into a hug, his head tucking neatly into her shoulder, and Time caught how her lips pursed as she ran a light hand over Wild’s spine and scapulae before embracing him tightly. 

 

She hid the pain in her eyes handily, though, and tamed the alarm she must have been feeling to something indignant, keeping the atmosphere light by turning on Time. “What did you do to him? You said you’ve only had him for a week!” She said it lightly, but he knew her well enough to catch the undernote of distress that was not aimed anywhere but at whatever circumstances had caused this. Her arms tightened around Wild protectively as Time raised his hands defensively, squeezing him for a moment before getting down to business, brown eyes blazing. 

 

“You’re nothing but skin and bones! Well, we’ll have to work on that, get you back up to fighting weight so you can take down those monsters without having to worry about fainting dead away,” she tutted, wasting no time herding Wild towards the ranch house, Hyrule slipping easily to support him with an arm around the waist, beaming as Malon gently brushed at his curls. 

 

Time pardoned himself to greet Epona, wandering over to where she waited, head stretched over the fence towards him. She was built almost identically to Wild’s iteration of the mare, though proportionally taller as if to match Time’s height. Her coloration was still far more striking though, a rich red chestnut whose black points only accentuated the bright white socks and silvery mane. The others’ mares were all a more muted palomino gold to her bright bay silver, though Warriors’ had a note of redness as well, a mere echo of Epona’s fiery coloration. Her coat shone with good health, muscles unwasted despite how many years she had weighing on her. Advanced age had frosted that sooty muzzle gray, but she still moved with the ease of a much younger horse, despite being years older than any Malon had ever heard of. 

 

There were some boons to being a reincarnated hero’s companion, it seemed. 

 

She was as glad to see him as ever, and he was relieved to see she was still doing well. He hugged her head to his chest with one arm, the other scratching along her neck as she liked, drawing a whicker and nuzzle into his belly. Epona only stayed there for a few minutes, never overly fond of too much handling, but she did sniff curiously at him, nudging over him until he laughed and dug out a treat for her from where Malon had slipped it to him before heading inside. “I missed you too,” he said dryly as she took it deftly from his palm, dancing away with a victorious toss of her head, ombre tail flicking at him with unnecessary attitude. 

 

Content that he was home once more, she began grazing at a middling distance, comfortable just knowing he was nearby. Her fondness for him and Malon showed mostly in how she allowed them close; even now, few others were allowed near to her, and while he could still manage to take her out for exercise she did not enjoy bearing a rider but for the open access to the fields it offered her. She’d never really lost the orneriness that had made her impossible to tame for Ganondorf’s use, only made exceptions to a favored few. 

 

Even now she still never tolerated a bridle, and Time only forced the saddle on her because of her tendency to pivot and play about mid canter; not in an attempt to throw him off, but merely for the joy of the movement. She was a free spirit, Epona, and sometimes he couldn't help but feel guilty that all he could offer her was vast paddocks instead of the open wilderness she used to roam whilst waiting his call as a younger hero. Times were different now, though, and with peace came too much traffic for a fine horse to be unbothered as it wandered around, no matter how recognizable she was to the local populace. 

 

As if sensing his musing, Epona snorted at him, flicking her heels his way and trotting off to immediately heckle one of her eldest daughters, a chocolate palomino who in no way deserved a nip to the rump. Feeling thoroughly dismissed, Time retreated indoors, lips curved in a smile at the indignant equine squeal and peal of hoofbeats sounding out behind him. 

 

Malon had accommodated the group of young men as if eight additional bodies within her house were the norm, easily settling them in and fluttering over Wild on the couch. As Time entered he found them all lounging about, Twilight offering a glass of cool fresh milk as he settled in the free chair at the table, lips upturning at Wind and Hyrule sprawled shamelessly on the cool wood floors. After they were deemed cooled off, the rest of the afternoon was spent helping Malon with the farm chores or resting in the house, Four fully recovered but consigned to babysitting Wild as the hero most recently incapacitated. 

 

He and Malon paired off to replace a rotting fence post -a recurring issue, as it lay in a low point where rainwater consistently pooled- working easily together. Time told her everything without her having to ask, of everything they’d gone through since last seeing her and of Wild’s world especially, from his arrival alone to finally making it to the castle and meeting Wild, only to lose him to the strange contraption that nearly killed him in the end. Of the day after, crossing that vast replica of their kingdom and finding him again, dying with no means of recourse. 

 

Time told her how Wild passed away, and couldn’t find the words to express how his death felt, what it did, the way it gauged into his very soul, a facet of his being that he was only aware of by virtue of meeting his incarnations and being linked to all of them. 

 

“It was like being gutted,” he said flatly, and Malon was not fooled by the inflectionless tone, well-versed in his favored defense mechanisms. “All the viscera pulled out in one solid wrench, and the hole filled with fire and closed back up- seamlessly whole from the outside, but a burning, vacuous injury within, the pain relentlessly building as you realized this was just how it was, now.” 

 

They worked in silence for a moment, him lifting the new fencepost in place as she filled around it. “He isn’t dead anymore,” she observed, more matter of fact than gentle. “Is that hole within you still there? Are there phantom pains from the space carved out when he passed?”

 

“It’s… fine, now. Nothing but the memory, and that will fade,” he said cagily, and she frowned at the clear trivialization of the event’s trauma. He couldn’t talk about it now, though, not when it was still sharp enough in his memory to cut if handled. 

 

Her voice went softer still, her shovel stabbing into the earth as she stared him down. “How are the others faring? They seemed quieter than usual, and reluctant to let Wild out of their sight even though they know there’s no danger here.”

 

Time sighed, but once she said it he could see it himself; the Chain had been doing so much better than he hadn’t noticed how off they still were, subdued almost, and protectively sticking tightly together. Even here at the ranch they’d still paired off, as if afraid to leave anyone alone lest the stress of the week all catch up at once. 

 

They were coming down slowly, but all watching for signs of anyone breaking under the pressure now that there was no need to hold it together, ignoring their own healing cracks as they tip-toed around one another. After Four’s house, the group finally seemed to be turning the corner into something closer to normalcy, and with Wild finally starting to move on his own and recover enough energy to be his curious, wry self he hoped they’d finally find themselves back on solid ground, psychologically.

 

He was especially worried about Twilight, who seemed to take most of what had happened as a failure on his part, who even now seemed on the brink of a panic attack at any casual hint of what had happened. Not that it wasn’t deserved, only that it didn’t seem to be getting better, and Time had a feeling it was because of the way Twilight was definitely just trying to shove that trauma somewhere he didn’t have to work through it. 

 

He knows, because it's exactly what he’d tried to do fresh out of his own adventures, and he’s well aware that it just doesn’t work like that. The Pup seemed caught between staying at Wild’s side and guarding from afar, almost frightfully clingy when let himself remain close to the ailing Champion. For his part, Wild seemed to have clicked especially hard with Twilight, always searching him out when he wandered away -and that time spent alone was worrying too, when there was such a depressed, self-blaming cast over him- or trying to cajole him into sitting at his side.  

 

“I’m worried about Twilight,” he admitted. “He had an easy time compared to most of us, and blames himself for not helping when he was able to, just in the wrong place because of the portal. But the boys are all doing better, at least, even if it's still a sore point. It was hard, many of them seeing Wild get worse with each visit to Kakariko and able to do nothing to help or make it easier for him. And even after we got to the spring in Twilight’s world, there was no guarantee that would keep him alive either. Nothing to do but wait, and you can see just how far he has to go yet, even after a week of rest and significant healing magic.”

 

“But he’s getting better, and time will heal the rest,” he said, shaking himself out of his funk and picking up the shovel to help top off the soil. “In the meantime, you best get started on supper if you don’t want any of the boys getting hungry enough to insist on starting themselves to help you out.” 

 

“Ach,” Malon scoffed with a wave of her hand, “As if Wild would let them, stationed as he is at the house. Still, best not to rile him by acting as guardian of the kitchen’s sanctity.”

 

Wild and Four -eager for a redemption arc- both ended up helping, the Champion’s whole demeanor brightening as he talked avidly with Malon about ingredients and the virtues of cooking at home versus over a campfire. Time languished on the porch outside the bustle and heat of the kitchen, splitting attention between the setting sun and the cheer through the screen door, nursing a nightcap with Legend. Twilight and Hyrule were messing around in the grass after crickets, Warriors and Wind off somewhere in the barns, Sky following after determined to supervise any shenanigans. 

 

Time breathed the peace in, closing his eyes as if he could capture the moment and hold it forever, just keep them all here with him and Malon safe on the ranch. As if sensing his bittersweet yearning, Hyrule slipped silently to his side, eyes wide and curious as he peered into Legend’s cup. “Can I try some?” He asked the Vet, probably tempted by the addition of nut extract despite how he already knew he didn’t like the flavor of regular coffee. 

 

“Here, take mine- it’ll be sweeter,” Time offered, smoothly intercepting the glint in Legend’s eye- the Vet liked his coffee black and bitter as he imagined his heart to be. Hyrule’s nose wrinkled at the taste regardless, but he still took another sip curiously, eyebrows wrinkled as he tried to decide whether he liked it or not. 

 

“It’s… different? Smells like acorns, but I can’t really taste them.” He shook his head, handing it back. “Not sweet enough, though,” he said predictably, settling between them and resting against Time’s arm with a happy hum, radiating contentment across the bond. Pointedly so, almost, and the older hero couldn’t help tickling back with the warmth of watching them all relax, happy and calm. Twilight dropped down on the other side, lounging easily as they watched the sky warm with the ending day. 

 

He let his other arm sling over the Pup’s shoulders, glad when the melancholy in the younger hero melted away at another peal of laughter from the kitchen, leaving him to watch the fireflies contently as they sat to the sounds of chirping and cheer. 

 

It was good to be home. 

 

-------------------------------------------

 

The next morning the familiar morning bustle to get everyone and everything fed was shorter than usual, seven additional pairs of helping hands leaving him and Malon more than enough time to get a good breakfast rolling by the time Wild finally came down the stairs, a few hours later than everyone else had been roused at. He was always slow to shake off the drowsiness, though Time didn’t know how much of that was just his diminished stores of energy and how much of that was a Sky-esque tenacity in the face of letting go of the solace of sleep. 

 

They were close enough to Castletown that Time merely sent a messenger to ask of Lullaby whether there was any trouble she knew of that may have called them back- he was not going to remove any of them from the ranch until he absolutely had to, but he knew they rarely went somewhere without an eventual purpose. Even Twilight and Four’s worlds had multi-tasked giving Wild a chance to recover with monster encounters, and he knew better than to expect this to be any different. 

 

Especially since Wild was finally recovered enough to have energy to spare on more than a little moving around the house before crashing. Finally, the glimpses he’d seen of Wild’s natural character were emerging- not that the pliant, easily smiling, fevered Wild was a lie, per se, but even all the way back at the castle when Time had first met him, exhausted and stressed and harried, there had been a distinct spark that had been tamped in Wild until now. Those keen eyes were back, though, and with it came a hunger to explore his surroundings that had been mostly absent in the other worlds he’d since visited.

 

Unfortunately, with increasing energy came increasing frustrations at his lingering limits- Wild’s endurance was still utterly shot, and Time was willing to bet it had been fairly admirable before by sheer necessity considering how large his Hyrule was. The Champion was consigned to the shade of a large tree and tasked with polishing tack after failing to win the argument that he could feed the cuccos, having no way of proving to a concerned Legend that he could run to safety if he aggravated them in one of his still-frequent stumbles. Wild took what he could get; after having spent so much time indoors with sedentary chores, a chance to enjoy the beautiful day around them was a boon in and of itself, even if he’d also like to be getting to work with more than just a pile of leather straps. 

 

Time ended up nearby, fixing a loose wheel on a wagon and trying to ascertain if he needed to switch it out or if the issue was with the frame of the cart itself. Wild seemed to have settled into his task fairly well, at least, the pout fading into a focused mien as he carefully traced out the detailing and worked his way along the buckles and straps, steadily making his way through the pile. Meanwhile, they were both keeping half an eye on the cavorting figures of Twilight and Wind as they chased a particularly large butterfly around the edge of the farmyard. Time had come up around the back and clearly not been noticed as he settled down to do his work, but it was far too amusing for him to call them to task just yet, and it was good to see the Pup fooling around after the dark stretch of guilt and fear that still clung to him too often. 

 

They pursued the butterfly as it meandered drunkenly around the yard, ducking to hide for a minute as Warriors came into view to dump off a wheelbarrow of rocks, Wild smiling down at the bridle in his hands but doing nothing more than waving at Warriors when he glanced over to check on him. Their eyes were wide as they watched the colorful insect fly farther and farther, darting after like a pair of desperate ducklings the instant Warriors’ back was turned to leave again. Twilight seemed interested in catching it for someone back in his Hyrule, and Wind was very set on getting a pictograph of it, preferably with or atop his joy pendant, from what Time could overhear. 

 

Wild made no move to join them, despite the curiosity coloring his side of the bond; with how the butterfly was gracefully fluttering high before inevitably descending again as the veritable bounty of flowers lured it back down Twilight and Wind were out of breath from following underneath, meaning Wild had no chance at all of keeping up. Fortunately, it was very nearly equally entertaining to watch them being repeatedly confounded by a particularly acrobatic butterfly. The pair of them were quietly huddled on the ground, furiously discussing tactics as the butterfly landed atop a gathering of flowers that had already been pointed out -in fair warning and with due threat- as Malon’s prized poppies; if they were seen mucking around with those they were done for, body and reincarnated soul alike. 

 

Time was going to do absolutely nothing to save them from their hubris. 

 

Watching them stealthily approach the flowers atop their very delicate stems with aggressive purpose, Time did, for a moment, wonder if he should abscond so as to have plausible deniability before promptly deciding he could sweet talk his way out of it and would much rather watch whatever unfolded in person, thank you.  

 

Then Wild gave a little yelp of alarm, and all three of the heroes in hearing range immediately twisted towards him, Time startling Twilight as he jogged from the side of the wagon to Wild, who was staring raptly at the saddle on his lap, turning it gently as he looked at something. 

 

Motion caught Time’s sight as he squatted beside the younger hylian- a jumping spider hopping, and Wild peered closer, utterly charmed by its white legs and black body, giving a happy croon to the little thing. The diminutive spider watched him back, and even Time’s natural unease when seeing an arachnid was forgotten at the sight of those large eyes following Wild as he swayed back and forth before it testingly. 

 

“Time, look at him! He’s so cute!” Wild gushed, offering a hand to the little spider. 

 

“He alright?” Twilight asked, face flushed from butterfly chasing and embarrassment at being caught shirking his assigned chores, “Oh! Did you find something?”

 

Wild offered his hand up, the spider hiding from sight on the bottom of it. “Yeah, he’s super cool!”

 

“What- ack!” Twilight jerked back from where he’d leaned in as the spider obligingly darted out right under his nose, though he immediately recovered and peered closer once more. 

 

“He’s got a crown!” Wind said, pointing as he leaned over Wild’s shoulder. “Look at his little crown!” he whisper yelled, and yes, the little spider did indeed have three little prongs sticking up from its head like the points of a crown. 

 

“That’s not a crown, it’s a funky hair-do,” Wild argued, watching as the tiny spider hopped onto Wind’s finger and then back to Wild’s hand.

 

“They’re pretty common around here this time of year,” Time said, leaning back on his heels. “You could probably find a bunch of them if you looked in the right place. We call them Crowned Jumpers,” he admitted, Wind smirking at Wild, “But Malon agrees that it looks like bed-head,” he finished, and gave the victory to Wild by default. 

 

“Well, we got a little distracted on our way to see what you needed us to do next-” Twilight began earnestly, and Time acknowledged that it was probably true, even, before Wind jumped up, all but vaulting over Wild’s head. 

 

“Twi, the butterfly’s on the peonies! Get it!” And with a war cry, he sprinted off, leaving Twi to spare barely a wide-eyed pleading glance at Time before chasing after, jar in hand once more.

 

Time and Wild both watched as they missed once more and ended up running off as they accidentally swatted at a wasp on a nearby flower instead, sprinting away at top speed while glancing back to find the butterfly, fluttering peacefully high in the air. Wild laughed, setting the spider on the tree trunk above him before settling in once more to clean the saddle once more. “Good grief,” Time observed, standing and shaking his head at the two. “At least they haven’t done anything too stupid yet to try to get it- if they reach for the spinner, you make sure to call for me, alright?” 

 

Wild cocked his head, and Time realized he should never have brought it up, no matter that Twi wouldn’t let Wild try anything on that death trap until he was totally recovered. Not that that was in any way reassuring, considering how much bloodshed it demanded with every appearance. “Trust me, you’ll recognize it if you see it. Make sure they don’t hurt themselves catching any bugs,” he said lightly, and Wild nodded, shoulders straightening. 

 

“I’ll keep an eye on the young’uns,” he smiled, and Time watched as a little spider, black and white and crowned, moved along the Champion’s leg. 

 

“Just you and me for now, little guys,” he heard Wild say happily, and left them there to the restful afternoon in peace. 

 

--------------------------------------

 

It was a relief for them all when Wild was finally fully back on his feet several days later. The fear of a relapse finally vanished, though Time and the others remained maybe a touch over-protective of the newly energetic Champion, for all that it mattered in the face of Wild’s sheer determination and devastatingly effective weaponization of everyone’s desire to keep him from being sad. 

 

And yes, maybe Malon shook her head at them all, but for now, not even Time was able to stand his ground against Wild’s quiet admissions of loneliness, and “But it’s depressing, staying still all the time”.  And maybe Wild was laying it on a little thick, but Time could feel the trace of truth laying underneath the words, and there was nothing so dangerous here in his world to justify forcing Wild to be miserable in the name of resting. 

 

It was just hard , because Wild knows his limits, of course, he just doesn’t care . He didn’t when saving them, and his curiosity and eagerness to move about right now was such that Time just knew the younger hero was going to push himself too hard. He’d already done it days ago on the evening jaunt with Malon, no matter how he insisted he’d proven Time’s ban of riding unnecessary by the sheer fact no one had been harmed in the excursion; Time barely managed not to roll his eyes as he remembered Sky’s panic when Wild had been carried back in, thoroughly wiped but pleased as the cat that got the milk. 

 

Wild seemed more than happy to forget how much longer he’d slept in the next morning, and how sore he was before Hyrule helped him out, fluttering over Wild’s unsteady hobbling. It was frustratingly hard to argue when Wild only waved off his own exhaustion, airily insisting it was fine, refusing to acknowledge the issue as anything more than a minor convenience. Time had been lulled into thinking Wild was a compliant patient, and was fast realizing that said compliance only lasted until the Champion deemed himself well enough , whether or not anyone else agreed. 

 

Needless to say Wild’s idea of well enough to run around like usual did not necessarily align with Time’s, nor, he’d like to think, with most peoples’. 

 

Except he’d very clearly lost that fight, because otherwise he probably wouldn’t be here galloping through the fields with Wild, Warriors, and Twilight. It was, he can admit, something between an apology for the (ineffective) refusal to let him out a few days ago and a reward for having taken it easy long enough to get to this point, no matter how jittery he’d been as they tried to keep him restful. Maybe, a little, it was even an attempt to properly earn the fondness Wild had for him, that happy little confession that he was the favorite over Malon -charismatic, motherly Malon who cooked with Wild and took him out on horse rides and told stories that made the Champion roll in laughter. 

 

All things that he loved about her, and he couldn’t fathom being favored over her, not cynical, closed off, and unexpressive as he was in contrast, all stoicism and harsh realism to her bright vivacity. It was the soulbond, of course, because there was no other explanation for preferring him over Malon, and all the boys did, somehow. 

 

She teased him about it, and when she heard his rationalization for it her eyes nearly got stuck in the back of her head, she rolled them so hard. “You’ve never considered that maybe it’s because you do actually have some redeeming traits that they admire and prefer over my own virtues?” She said, tone just teasing enough to hide the potentially serious turn the conversation threatened to take if she thought he was going down a road leaning anywhere near self-deprecation. 

 

 “Redeeming traits? How kind of you,” he said wryly, but it was too late- her smile smoothed into something fond and thoughtful, eyes serious.

 

“Is it truly so hard to believe that they would love you more, as the one who has traveled and fought with them and taken care of them and watched their backs and well-being?” She asked with tilted head, one hand lifting to tuck his hair behind his ear on his blind side. “Honestly, you’re nowhere near as grim or off-putting as you think to those you care about, and you’ve not hidden from any of us that you love those boys. They know it, and they love you back,” she said simply. 

 

He frowned, feeling almost defensive of her. “I know, but over you-?” 

 

She scoffed. “Don’t you worry- for all that we joke about favorites, you know as I do that’s not how it works. And it’s not like they don’t love me, too, it’s just not the same. It never is, the love for a mother and a father.”

 

Time felt this expression crumple in surprise, caught off guard. “I’m not-”

 

“No, I know, else you’d not be in this bed,” Malon said with a chuckle, looking thoroughly exasperated, “but you’ve been more of one to most of them then they’ve ever had, there when they most needed it. That’s not nothing , Link.”

 

“I know,” because he did, he knew that they deserved it and did his best to be the support and comfort they needed, to be the one to say the hard things and choose what was best, even if it wasn’t easiest. And maybe it started as being the de facto leader and eldest, but at some point it had moved to more than that, something warmer and closer, soft talks after nightmares and small lessons and little gifts he knew they’d like from what he’d filed away of their favorites.

 

Time doesn’t feel like just the leader of the Chain, not anymore 

 

“Sorry, Link,” Malon said, smiling softly at the look on his face as he considered it all, brushing softly over the soothing network of strong bonds tying their souls to his. “Looks like you’re outvoted 9 to 1, most lovable.” 

 

He snorted. “Now wait, we know that’s not true-”

 

“And yet there’s the family you found and fostered,” she crooned, shifting to lay over his chest, settling a soft kiss on his nose. “And here I am, utterly smitten, no matter how grumpy your frown is,” she said with a tap to his lips, which had indeed been pulled into an argumentative pout. And as if by magic, he couldn’t help but smile under their touch, the mood turning distinctly playful. 

 

“I supposed you’ll just have to convince me, then,” he said with no little amount of adoration, soaking in the way she looked at him, the depth of how she cherished him shining through in her eyes, in every heartfelt word she whispered to him of all she loved about him. And he reminded her of everything about her he adored  in return- none of it new, not after all these years, but the words glittered within him with renewed polish nonetheless, a fresh reminder of what he was fighting for and what made it all worth it.

 

The next day, in light of having acquired another pseudo-son, Time had decided to fully embrace the role. He’d gotten one step ahead of Wild and invited him out for a brisk galavant around the fields with the other horsemen of the group, and the Champion had been positively giddy, his glee bleeding over to Twilight in a manner that Time hadn’t planned for but was happy to see.  

 

That afternoon passed by easily, underlaid by the galloping thrum of hooves and wind in their hair as they rode alongside one another, racing good-spiritedly down the open road. Lunch was taken amidst the grazing horses, him and Warriors quietly sunbathing whilst Wild and Twilight chattered about what foods were poisonous to what animals, which-

 

What on earth was a durian?

 

Wild soon had enough of recharging, though, all but rolling Warriors over and shoving him upright as he cheerily urged them to get up, the horses are bored with standing around!

 

Time’s horse, Fool, continued to chew on grass, staring thoughtfully at the same patch of dirt. 

 

But Twilight was nudging his shoulder, and Time only just caught the mischievous glint in those hazel eyes before the Pup was hauling him up and over those broad shoulders, standing under his weight and moving determinedly towards Fool, of a height to slide Time’s leg -lifted obligingly, because he could make this difficult but it was equally amusing to play along- ove the saddle and shove him upright in a rather graceless but admittedly low effort mount on Time’s part. 

 

“Thanks for the boost,” he said, as if it had been in any way necessary. Shifting his seat and resettling his shirt from where it had rucked up under the manhandling, he flicked a hand towards Warriors, still on the ground laughing beside an absolutely tickled Wild. “Why don’t you see if the Captain needs a hand?” 

 

“I don’t!” Warriors laughed, scrambling to his feet, but Twilight merely bent to grab him at the knees, lifting the worm-flailing Captain up quickly enough that Wars was forced to grab at Twilight's head to steady himself from flopping backwards. The Captain’s mount was an unmarked black stallion named Bloody Baron, most notably the tallest non-draft horse on the ranch, and all legs. Warriors was hoisted up to sit side saddle, grabbing Twilight's shoulders as he wobbled back with the force of the plopped seating and nearly kneeing the Pup in the face as he threw a leg over to sit facing forward. 

 

The way he flicked his scarf over his shoulder and sent it streaming all across Twilight's head was definitely on purpose though, no matter the apologetic, open mouthed look of surprise he affected as his knee was swatted at, missing as he pulled Baron into a side step away. 

 

Then there was only Wild, watching curiously as Twilight approached the Champion’s stout little mare before turning and spreading his arms in invitation. “Come on, then, Wild,” he coaxed with a grin, and Wild fairly bloomed as he ran forwards. He met Twilight with his hands up on his shoulders as the Pup grasped his hips, hopping as the older hero lifted, one leg tucked up and clearing the saddle as he reached the apex of the lift, hair floating up and falling over his shoulders as he was settled down gently, the whole thing done in one smooth, graceful motion. 

 

A greater show of skill from both Wild and Twilight than Time’s or Wars’ inglorious hoists had been, and Time couldn’t help but give them a raised eyebrow. “Impressive,” he called, and Warriors clapped. Twilight sent them a boyish grin as he mounted and rode to Wild’s side, both of them utterly bubbly over the stunt, laughing and happy and playful as they rode their easy, circuitous way back, none of them wanting to keep Time too long from Malon. 

 

And he appreciated it, truly, but neither he nor her wished to spend every moment together, not when there was so much he wanted to show the boys of his life here, of how it was possible to build something simple and joyful and wonderful even after a childhood of fighting and sacrificing. Besides, there were chores to be done and meals to be cooked, though- the Chain had been working hard at that, too, leaving him and Malon with more free time alone than they usually got to enjoy, though they still more often than not wrangled at least one of the boys down to relax with them. 

 

Those were the moments he wanted to remember most, Malon leaning against Sky’s side as they pointed out the stars, Wind running around with a pig hoisted over his head, chasing Warriors with almost terrifying speed despite the wiggling, squealing, muddy mass. All of the family he loved so dearly, together in the peace and safety of his home- everything he’d ever wanted. 

 

It was so chillingly ephemeral. 

 

Through the joy and painful sense of impending loss, Time didn’t know what was worse- trying to enjoy what time he had here with Malon before this adventure dragged him away again or knowing that same adventure, dangerous and fearful as it sometimes was, marked all the time he was granted with the boys he knew must one day return to their own worlds. It was never meant to last, and all he could do was try to steal more from Hylia- more memories, more time, more opportunities for them to find the same happy ending he’d somehow managed to fumble his way into for himself. 

 

And though part of him knows that they cannot coexist, that Sky has been dead for centuries and he never lived to meet Twilight and that Legend died only for a fleeting window of peace that had long fallen to ruin by Hyrule’s birth, well- they’re here now, aren’t they? If Hylia can bend time and space to her whim, poke holes for them to move through, then she can continue to do so hereafter. 

 

Later, after he had said his good-bye to Malon and left his home behind once more, he cradled the heartache, that familiar painful squeeze of anxiety at what could happen when he was gone, what if that was the last time- 

 

He swallowed hard against the choking feel of it, and beside him Twilight tried even harder to distract him with small talk, Hyrule tucking some fresh berries into his hand with a pleading look in his eyes, the whole group of his boys trying so hard to remind him that he wasn’t alone, to keep him from lingering in the home-sickness hitting so hard. And it worked, because it didn’t feel so much like he was leaving everything behind when so many of those he loved were right here beside him still. 

 

His heart throbbed, warning him that someday it would be Malon comforting him in the wake of their absence, and Time closed his eye against it, determined and so very afraid of the future. 

 

Not if he could help it. 

 

(He didn’t know if he could , though, and that desperate hope was the most frightening thing of all.)

 

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Twilight POV

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Twilight knew, just like the rest of them, what it meant when Lullaby’s message finally came back. He watched the laid-back, easy-smiling mien slide off of Warriors face as Time pulled him aside, replaced with a straightened back and sharp, analyzing eyes. Saw the way his mentor braced himself for leaving Malon behind once more, pained and quietly resigned and trying his best to hide it from all of them despite how easy it was to see how he closed off, that expressive eye going agonizingly blank as he turned dangerously introspective. They had varying reactions each time they had to leave their home worlds, but Time took it hardest, as if afraid he’d come back to find the ranch gone altogether, and there was nothing the Chain could do but try to cheer him in their own ways.  

 

He was just thankful they had some degree of success, the Old Man ever weak for them and their machinations, no matter how stern he thought himself to be- as if his micro expressions didn’t clearly illustrate his amusement or how proud he was of them, the familiar disregard or outright disgust at shady characters encountered on the road. Like the few words he chose didn’t say everything they needed to, concise and blunt and honest. Time was reserved, not cold , and they’d all long since learned how to read him, no matter how covertly expressive he was, whether by upbringing or by nature. 

 

In this, though, his displeasure and dread was easy to see and shared, to some degree, by all of them. It was hard to leave the warmth and security of  Lon Lon, and Twilight himself felt a sense of loss,  sometimes unable to help but fantasize of the life he could have had somewhere like this, before his parents were forced to flee and abandon him in the woods. It was all too easy to superimpose Time and Malon there as parents, a mix of their own traits and the kindness and dependency Uli and Rusl had always offered him. Twilight may be content with his childhood, but he knows what he’s missed, growing up as a fosterling amidst a small, poor town. Hates the way Ordon no longer fits quite right, all the small ways he’d been left on his own suddenly chafing, caught between being lonely and being somewhere too small now for the new restlessness in his bones, the odd yearning that couldn’t be fixed, not with the mirror gateway to the answer broken . 

 

The portal that had dropped the others into his life was the best thing to have happened in years . 

 

The Chain was his in a way little at home was anymore. After his adventure, everything familiar had felt suddenly changed, no matter that Twilight knew it was him who was different, now. Old habits and relationships were suddenly awkward and stilted, and he didn’t know how to make it all go back when he wasn’t the same laid back, worry-free teen. 

 

But the others had never known him before to be off put by his new demeanor, and they understood the effects a hero’s sacrifices had on the lives they returned to. There was a sense of purpose, finally, and brothers to share it with, equally as determined to protect him as he was them. Twilight hadn’t realized how much he’d missed fighting for a good cause with someone at his back, how the uneventful peace of Ordon felt so much like losing time to a fever daze, sometimes. 

 

Maybe the lupine twili form was suited for him more than he’d admit. 

 

He certainly felt an irrational surge of aggressive protectiveness at the thought of danger in the vicinity of Malon and her home, equally frustrated at the heartache it would bring Time to leave once more- all unavoidable, all inevitable, but something in him snarled at the pain it caused and the danger it posed the others. Hated how the group went passive and quiet as Time called them together to tell them what they already knew. 

 

It was monsters, of course. 

 

Just on the northeast border, but they seemed to be attacking along the primary road into the kingdom; not a far trek, compared to some of the ventures they’d had to undertake in the past -and Wild’s world, most recently- but, well…

 

It was Wild, of course, that was the main problem. Not that he was the problem, but that everyone still hated the idea of dragging him out of the sanctuary of the ranch and into a battle. It wasn’t unfounded, either, not really, not when Wild was still easily wiped by a few hours on his feet and still prone to dizzy fits when he pushed himself too far, no matter how much higher that threshold was now. The outing on horseback had served as a test, of sorts, as well as a fantastically fun time; even those four hours had left Wild mostly lounging for the rest of the day, perky but subdued enough to prove his exhaustion. The idea of a fight was bad enough- the journey there would certainly leave Wild in a bad condition for combat, and with all of them swamped in concern it would inevitably shape up to be a dangerously distracting situation for the rest of them. 

 

The easy solution was to leave their recovering member behind where it was safe. 

 

Ha, right.

 

Twilight stared beseechingly at Wild, hoping that the other’s admittedly very indulgent patience of their (possibly over-the-top whilst at the ranch) concern would last just a little bit longer, especially since it was much more valid in the face of combat against infected monsters. It would serve them two-fold, both to keep Wild safe and to ensure they’d be able to return to Malon and assure her of their well-being after the fight. 

 

(The portal… would wait for them to rejoin, wouldn’t it?)

 

But the open expression on Wild’s face suddenly locked in place, the easy smile frozen as those brilliant eyes cooled. “I don’t think so,” came the painfully polite, overbrightly chirped reply to his very heartfelt and well-reasoned suggestion, and gods dammit if even the dangled carrot of having one-on-one time with Malon wasn’t enough, Twilight wasn’t beyond using pity for his own poor overstrained nerves. It worked better as Wolfie, but- he let his eyes widen a little, let the stress since he’d met Wild seep into his features a little, tucking his chin and parting his lips in hurt. Wild considered this display, sympathy passing over his face like a cloud over the sun, before blinking back to himself, expression hardening.

 

Twilight panicked a little. “Wild, please- it’s not for forever, just this one time, to be safe. We’ll probably switch over in the next day or so after we’re done, and that should be long enough -if you rest- for you to be up to snuff again.” He tried so hard to keep his tone from being condescending, tried to stick to rationality because he was only saying things that made sense dammit , but he could practically feel Wild digging his heels in with every word. 

 

Wild’s chin was tucked, his arms crossed in front of him. Looks like he was finally putting his foot down, and heck but Twilight had hoped to sneak one last respite in before they got to this point. “I’m not going to be at 100% for a while, yet, Twi,” he said flatly, though not without a hint of sympathy in his eyes. “You’re going to have to let me fight before then, and I don’t see why it can’t be here and now.”  

 

“Because it doesn’t have to be?” Twilight said desperately, feeling himself losing the argument against Wild’s decision that he’d been coddled long enough. “Why risk forcing it if you don’t need to? Take what leeway you can get!”

   

He tipped his head, long hair sliding over his shoulder, narrowed eyes pinned to Twilight’s and a sharp smile on his lips. “Alright,” he said crisply and far, far too accommodatingly for the challenging look in his eyes. “Go on without me, then.” 

 

He held Twilight’s bewildered gaze unflinchingly, the bite of a lie stinging the air between them, tinged with burnt sugar-frustration and plummy determination. Twilight felt his ears pin back unhappily, catching a trace of sickly-sweet guilt from Wild. His lips quirked in conflicted amusement at how even now the Champion spared a care for his feeling, but it wasn’t enough for that burning gaze to waver, or for Wild to give in. 

 

Twilight sent a pleading look to Time as his last resort, but the other was shaking his head, already acquiescing. The older hylian clapped a hand on his shoulder, lips quirked in a rueful smile. “He won’t stay, so he has to come. He’s a hero too,” Time said gently. “You can’t all have expected to keep him down and out for long, especially not with something so small as a near death experience.” 

 

Twilight related so hard to that note of despair it hurt, his breath catching sharply in his throat. 

 

With the hand still resting on his shoulder, Twilight knows Time felt the unconscious shiver that ran through him, unable to stop the way he froze up at even the casual mention of that . His mentor’s grip tightened, leaning in to brush reassuringly against his arm, the solid presence and steadiness ringing between them helping to stabilize his instinctive panic. Heart rate already thrumming, Twilight tried to batten down the rising emotion before it could cloud him over, his ear flicking to the side as Wind squawked and was dragged wriggling into Warriors’ arms to have his hair ruffled. 

 

Twilight’s nostrils flared, catching the scent of his own panic against the amusement and disappointed resignation of the others as the attention turned from convincing Wild to stay to the tussling pair instead, Time’s words and the Champion’s stubbornness enough to deter any other attempts to persuade Wild to be safe for once. As if they hadn’t just made this mistake and seen how it can end up, with the poor cub sick- dying-de -

 

Time jostled his shoulder and Twilight jumped, turning to meet that pale, worried gaze. He forced himself to focus on the low, reassuring voice as Time spoke to him in undertone, holding his gaze calmly. “He’ll be fine, Twilight. He has us, and we were never going to be able to keep him safe to the side for long. Best to agree on his terms than try to keep him back and have him get into trouble with any hare-brained schemes. We’ve all seen how well he watches out for himself on his own, after all.” 

 

And Twilight gave a minute flinch again, only realizing after the sad, recognition on Time’s face that his mentor had been testing for sensitivity, there, and Twilight was really not coping anywhere near well enough to hide his reaction from that sharp, scrutinizing stare. Hazel eyes darted unconsciously to find Wild, who’d sauntered off towards Legend, body language beseeching as he crouched down beside where the Vet was looking for something in his bags. The motion was smooth and easy, the Champion’s expression devious and alert. He was fine, just like he had been for days now, and Twilight knew that this was his problem alone- the others were already easing up, already able to bear talking about what had happened at the fountain, what had happened outside the portal to his world. 

 

He thought he had been too, after how well the ride went yesterday with Time and Wars, but the instant there was a hint of danger, here he was again. Full alert with a belly full of dread, as if Wild were a helpless puppy trying to face down a pack of rabid dogs, and no one else seemed as worried as he thought they should be. 

 

They were already able to joke carefully about it, even, and Twilight couldn’t bear to ask them to stop, not when it meant admitting he couldn’t stand to hear Wild’s death referenced so lightly, so easily, when the memory of the that body going boneless and heavy in his arms still shook him to his core, the feeling of the other’s presence flickering out between their shared souls lighting a horror inside him he could barely hide behind trembling stillness. 

 

He should be better than this. They should be more worried, and Wild should be more careful and this should not be so horrifying . 

 

“Twilight-” Time started softly, but he did not want to talk about it, not when he knew it would mean a breakdown. Not in front of Time, not after this long when he should be over it like the others were, not when he could already feel himself shaking and slipping into that safer distance when he took too long considering the way it felt, how it could happen again-

 

“I’m fine,” he said in a strangled voice, shaking himself free and trying desperately to anchor himself in the present, inhaling the bright, cheery atmosphere and trying to imprint those emotions back into the odd blankness where his own feelings should be. And it worked, slowly at first and then all at once, the spiced satisfaction and floral playfulness seeping in, even Time’s own damp-earth worry helping fill up the emptiness, warmth and calm and comfort seeping across the soulbond.  

 

Time mercifully didn’t say anything, even if the momentary lingering of that worried gaze hinted at some later intervention. Twilight took another cleansing breath, nudging the taller hero with a weak smile. “Really,” he assured pointlessly, and opted to pretend he didn’t see the unconscious skeptical twitch of Time’s good eye, instead latching onto the scene behind them. “Sorry, I gotta- Wild’s trying to steal confiscated goods-” And bolted off, falling into the pile trying to keep the Champion from reclaiming his slate. 

 

Going off of the lack of panic and very strong sense of exasperation, it was more a matter of principle that they were flocking atop the squalling Champion for. Twilight was careful to lay his weight across Legend’s legs, the lot of them very much focusing their piling more onto Sky than their more frail member,  Four sitting atop the Skyloftian as he pried the slate from Wild’s furious grip. Legend jolted below him as Wild’s legs flailed underneath their combined mass, and Twilight had to admit- that was impressive. 

 

Four clambered off, slate victoriously held in hand, though that didn’t last long. Wild ended up getting it back anyways, crushing the last of Twilight’s hope as Hyrule gave the Champion the okay to come along as well. And their healer’s word and work should have been enough to reassure him, but all Twilight could feel was dread. 

 

Watching Time and Malon cling to one another made it no better, his mentor murmuring a solemn promise to be back soon and safe as Malon politely pretended it was within his power to fulfill, assuring him she would be there waiting. Then she hugged each of them, wishing them well, bestowing Twilight with a kiss on each cheek and a long, firm hug. Wild all but leapt into her arms, telling her how nice it was to meet her and that he hoped to see her again, no matter what it meant for their adventure if they got the chance. Another long, lingering embrace with her husband, and then they were leaving, Malon watching them until they turned the bend around the ranch walls. 

 

Time went quiet after that, leading the way but seeming distracted, almost, and worryingly melancholy. Twilight stuck close to him, talking quietly to keep his mentor from getting too lost in his head, trying not to push so hard as to make Time feign at being unaffected; that he didn’t try to hide it spoke to the trust he had in them, and the last thing Twilight wanted was for his own worry to make Time unwilling to show that vulnerability. It helped with his own stress,too- it was too late to keep Wild from risk, but Time, at least, he could help, and the older hylian seemed to be taking comfort in his presence and the subdued antics of the other, a familiar backdrop if slightly less rowdy than usual. 

 

Gradually Time warmed up once more, speaking softly back until he seemed to have gained his footing once more. It was a mixed success; even as Time returned to the steadfast, calm baseline all Twilight’s concern did was loop around into anxiety towards the impending fight instead. Of all the what-ifs that could befall Wild, whose risk taking tendencies had already been shared amongst the Chain through stories of wild stunts while fetching them all. 

 

The Champion didn’t seem to share the same concern, trotting off trail and up and down the group to look at everything. Wild picked up anything he could, hand furtively darting towards his slate time and time again before he’d catch himself, and finally Legend huffed and let the Champion dump his finds in his bag, stressing that it wasn’t permanent and he had enough on his own without adding someone else’s junk to it and don’t worry, there’s a stasis spell on it that will keep the flowers and bugs from dying. 

 

The hours spent walking to the locations of the monster sightings flew by, and by the time they neared the pass Twilight wasn’t the only one acting antsy and watching Wild for any signs of exhaustion or clumsiness. The Champion ignored their stares, waving off their poking “you doing alright’s” with admirable grace; he even took them up on breaks every now and then of his own volition. In the end, even Twilight had to admit that despite his misgivings Wild was fine , the shakiness midway having been easily handled by a snack and quick rest. He waited, same as they did, for the decision of what to do next, hand resting calmly on his bow as he stared off into the forest, standing at Twilight’s side. It seemed to be his default spot when he wasn’t otherwise distracted, always drifting back to walk beside him for a few steps before wandering off again, as if touching base. Twilight didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose or not, but there was no denying that it helped him, at least, to know that Wild was nearby.

 

It wasn’t hard to find a decent trail from the site of the most recent attack, luckily- there’d been a dry spell here long enough that the mud from the last rainfall had dried the easily-identifiable tracks leading from the road. It was enough to give them a rough direction the monster pack had come from, and between him and Hyrule and Four they found enough markers of monster activity to let them narrow the field. From there it was a matter of using Time’s knowledge of the geography and his nose to pinpoint where the creatures were staying; a dead end ridge at the foothills, easily defensible and difficult to scout out. 

 

As they stopped to recoup, Twilight ushered Wild into sitting down, earning an eye roll even as the younger hero obligingly plopped down, drawing out a pouch of nuts to nibble on. Twilight remained crouched beside the other as Wars and Time tried to suss out the best way to tackle the problem. He jumped when a nut was brushed against his hand, peering down at the walnut for a moment before obligingly cracking it open, offering the meat inside to Wild, who swapped half of it for another walnut. It wasn’t long before Wind sidled up as well with his own gathering of nuts, leaving Twilight surrounded by a growing pile of nut shells and two baby-bird like brothers lazing beside him to shove the fruits of his labor into their mouths. 

 

After some discourse Twilight had been distracted from listening to, they settled on a direct approach, this time, boldly walking in view to the monsters and holding ground farther away from the monster’s base camp. There were no archers on the other side, but for their part they had Wild, tasked with long range support from the safety of a tree near their selected holding point. Twilight let himself relax, then and only belatedly felt a little guilty for assuming Time and Wars would do anything but place Wild somewhere as far from harm as possible. There should be nothing on the field that could harm Wild from the vantage point, and the Champion had been explicitly warned not to move to ground combat unless he wanted them to panic because it had better be for a damned good reason. 

 

Wild got the message loud and clear, which only made seeing him amidst said ground fighting ten minutes later all the worse .  

 

Twilight had been loosely stationed alongside Time, their similar strengths meaning they worked particularly well as a hammerblow to unspecialized, powerful enemies like the moblins and wolfos they were currently facing. The lupine beasts made him as uneasy as ever, their bodies built along lines far too similar to his own as Wolfie, twisted by malice, lending dark credence to the fear already held for the animals they so resembled. They were wolves made nightmarish, all sinewy muscle and rangy limbs, their jaws and paws disproportionate but predatorially graceful nonetheless, switching hauntingly easily between quick four-legged darts and brutally powerful bipedal slashes. 

 

But Twilight knew lupine instincts, and he may not be able to understand the tail sways or ear flicks amidst the pack as a hylian, but Twilight had lived long enough with a wolf form to make educated guesses as the wolfos spread around him, seeming particularly incensed by his presence. They snarled at him, and he bared his teeth back, the growl in his throat nowhere near as frightening in this body. The creatures glared at him, darting around a moblin as it lumbered closer to Time, who was two steps away from his shoulder, trusting Twilight with his blind spot. 

 

A howl, rapidly cut off into a snarl as an arrow sang down into its ribcage, and Twilight couldn’t help but twitch as the wolfos stumbled and fell, black blood spilling over the matted gray coat. He had no problem fighting such enemies himself, but sometimes seeing the others do it so easily made him wonder. They knew Wolfie, of course, but if they ever thought-

 

Twilight stepped back, the wolfos’ downward strike missing and landing solidly on the ground, and as it shifted its momentum to lunge forward and up he brought his blade forward, his thrust and its own force sliding it deep into the creature’s chest. He braced his feet, shield setting against its shoulder as his pummel caught in its sternum and halted its jaws away from his face. He swayed back under its weight for a moment, his sight consumed by the foaming maw screaming at him in a horribly familiar animal agony. 

 

He shoved it away, sword sliding from its heaving chest before another slash silenced it- one he couldn’t afford, though, as he was forced to lift an arm to catch the raking claws of another wolfos over his shield, grunting as the creature simply continued battering at it, his sword busy holding back another of the monsters trying to circle around him, waiting for an opening to leap upon his back. 

 

“Hup,” came the quiet grunt, and Time’s claymore crashed into the single-minded creature upon his shield, Twilight slipping around his mentor’s elbow to catch a moblin’s blade against his sword before it could strike the older hylian down. He twirled it, stepping in and forcing the monster’s arm awkwardly back until it dropped the weapon, spinning and powering a devastating blow to it, leaving it crippled and dying on the ground as he and Time stepped away, eyes already scanning for the next enemy. 

 

Twilight lost himself in the rhythm of the battle, the familiar chaos drawing a calm focus from him as he scanned for enemies behind him, behind Time, overwhelming any of his brothers. He didn’t let himself do more than glance at the smudge of blue amidst the tree when he had a free moment, but the steady fall of arrows at least let him know Wild was watching out for them, the cries and squeals as the monsters were hit acting as an alarm, at least, even if most of the monsters left couldn’t be fallen by arrow alone. The Captain held his back for a little while, destroying swathes of the weaker enemies as he danced through them, each sword cut brutally precise before moving off with another ribbon wave of that bright blue scarf. 

 

Shield up, deflect the nut back at the scrub, take out the lizalfos and the bokoblin with one blow, lure a wolfos in close, strike hard enough to break bone and leave it crippled as it retreats. Wind was there at one point, taking down a pair of Warriors’ bokoblins with relative ease. Every now and then a fortuitous arrow would sprout from a monster’s body, crippling and distracting them enough for the other heroes to finish the job, a silent assurance Wild was still safe, that all his brothers were faring well against the horde. 

 

There was something breathing fire somewhere, lighting the wave of scrubs on fire almost before they could become a proper nuisance. Almost , because even if those nuts were distracting and hit hard enough to make a hero stumble, having the squeaking little bushes race around and spread fire to everything and every creature near to them was not much better. By now, the flood of monsters had thinned somewhat, leaving more space to maneuver. Most of the enemies left were more powerful ones, the others downed by a combination of  Sky and Warriors’ sweeping devastation and the rampant scrubs still flaming back and forth, continuously reigniting themselves on the smoldering grass . 

 

This was where he shone, though, now able to take the time to deliver the stronger blows without fearing leaving his back open for too long. The dynalfos screamed, and he saw fire from the edge of his vision, warping oddly around Legend and Time as the Vet held a hand up against it. An arrow glittered in the sun and pinged neatly off the monster’s neck, and another had no effect despite how it buried into a wolfos’ fur as a duo of them moved to surround Twilight, a darknut pacing slowly closer as well. 

 

A discordant chorus of howls rose up, and they all darted in at once, one faltering as Four swiped at its legs. Twilight smacked the other out of the air as it leapt for him, spinning with the strike to smash the second in the face as it tried to maul him, its claws raking lightly across his thigh as it skidded away, whining. The sound didn’t quite manage to hide the hylian shriek, though, and-

 

That was Wild . 

 

A glance towards the tree showed the Champion sprawled on the ground, writhing beneath a skulltula large as his torso, utterly exposed to the monsters still dotting the field. Wild struggled to get the arachnid off, but its grinning grimjaw abdomen deflected his blind stab with a knife, the shining brace of legs caging the slender hero inside as he writhed in its grasp. Its jaws were buried somewhere Twilight couldn’t see, and for the life of him he couldn’t recall if all of Time’s skulltula were venomous or just some of them.  

 

Did it really matter, though?

 

Twilight shouted for the others, trying to disengage to go help; he and Four were closest, and as much as he didn’t want to lead the darknut and wolfos to Wild, prone on the ground and likely injured from the fall and the skulltula, they couldn’t just leave him. He retreated a few steps, Four following as Shadow suddenly spun into sight, dark blade darting and catching one of the wolfos’ attention to snap at him. Twilight tried to cripple the other, at least, but only managed to open another deep wound along its flank; it bled profusely, but anything less than bones broken badly enough to impede movement meant nothing to the infected monsters, and those were all that were left by now.

 

Four was having even less luck, having to rely on landing a hit on the few vulnerable places, and seeing him square up and flit around the hulking lupine monstrosities was terrifying, the claws lashing through the air larger than Four’s face, the jaws the length of the Smithy’s arms. He was faster, yes, but his legs far shorter, and the wolfos leapt about, forcing Twilight to pull Four out of the way and raise a shield, baring his teeth as fangs clamored against the metal instead of burying into hylian flesh.  

 

He never wanted to see those kinds of wounds upon his brothers. 

 

But though the Smithy wasn’t a powerhouse, he was an effective fighter. He twisted where he was sandwiched between the shield and Twilight’s body, foot stepping onto the upraised thigh where the taller hero had gone down to one knee under the thrashing mass of the monster. Four’s hand lashed out and gripped the strap of Twilight’s holster over his shoulder, swinging around the edge of the sword and snaking his sword into the wolfos bearing furiously down on his shield. The weapon flashed in through the delicate skin under its jaw, twisted, and was drawn ink-coated out in one quick stab, severing the spine with a shove and withdrawing before those jaws could snap shut over his arm. 

 

The lupine monster jerked and fell harder against the shield, its jaws snapping uselessly even as it slumped to the ground, a dead weight of stinking fur and smoldering eyes and helpless fury. Four let go of the strap with a pat and stepped lightly off his leg, letting Twilight stand once more, twisting to stare down the dark nut as it steadily advanced.

 

Four, moved around him to get to Wild, jolting into a sprint with an “Oh shit-” even as Wild yelped out a panicked plea for help. He watched the undead figure fix its blade on him as it moved forward with more purpose at his attention, preparing to dodge and race in at the opening-

 

“Twi!” Four demanded behind him, and he stole a glance back, immediately turning from the dark nut to sprint and slide in at a diagonal to get between Wild and the wolfos Four had just dazed with a boomerang. The Smithy dove to Wild’s side, sword already moving to dispatch the monster that still bracketed the Champion within its legs.  The lupine creature shook off the headshot and wasted not a moment lunging forward with lashing claws, and Twilight met its blows with his blade, twisting it as he pulled away in an attempt to sever nerves through the thick fur. He forced himself not to look back at Wild’s stifled cry of pain, gritting his teeth as the wolfos’ claws glanced off his blade and sliced his sword arm, all too aware of the darknut prowling nearer too. 

He didn’t have enough time- the darknut was prowling closer, and Wild and Four were right there , distracted and injured. The wolfos drew away before standing on its hind legs, looming over him as it poised to bring the razor-clawed paw down in a hammerblow, the rattle of the darknut’s armor picking up pace even as Shadow’s voice rang out in an attempt to distract it. 

 

Twilight saw a chance and took it. 

 

Instead of raising shield or sword to block the blow, Twilight stabbed right towards the opening the powerful hit was creating, the wolfos’ whole body turning and rearing back to deliver a strike that would certainly break bone if it landed. But if he was fast and did enough damage-

 

His blade carved up and through its midriff, glancing off the spine. The wolfos jolted, but even as Twilight drew the sword from the monsters’ crumpling body in a waterfall of dark blood it swung that raised, heavy set of claws down upon him, furious. Then- it jerked, suddenly, and the power behind the blow vanished, the blow that crashed over his shoulder and back bruising but not crippling , those sickle claws stabbing shallowly into the muscle along his shoulder blade as the creature collapsed. Twilight shifted away so he could properly kill the wolfos and blinked confusedly down at the sword sticking out of the side of its disintegrating throat in confusion before tracking the momentum back to Four and Wild.

 

The Champion was smirking in victory despite the piled tangle of spider legs still smoking into nothingness beside him, Four already motioning over Twilight’s shoulder, blade still drawn, but Shadow was already calling his name in warning, the stench of the undead strong with proximity. A glance assured him that the wolfos was dead, and the dark nut was right there and swinging its claymore at him. Twilight ducked and rolled behind it, taking full advantage of the slower maneuverability of the armored monster after the irritating speed of the wolfos pack. 

 

He delivered a solid two handed swing of the sword, the blow resonating down the blade and up his arms, and yet the darknut was all but unaffected except for how it stumbled forward under the force of the hit, its armor remaining tight to its body. Twilight snarled and would have been hit had Shadow not done something with a burst of darkness that absorbed most of the blow, using too much energy if the way he immediately fell to melt into the hero’s shadow afterwards was any indication. Twilight frowned harshly, but as he and the darknut circled one another and the sun’s position shifted he caught a glimpse of cherry red eyes, half-lidded before the dark-clothed hero was hauling himself out of the shadowed ground once more.  

 

Four was not going to be pleased. 

 

At least its attention was on him though, not Wild, who was at least sitting up, if a little pale and dirt-smudged, his tunic and pants bloodied from the skulltula’s attack. And goddess above, there weren’t any other skulltulas to be seen on the field or canyon walls- had he really been jumped by a random, unaffiliated monster in all this? “Golden Goddesses Wild,” he called desperately, nearly at his wits end with this hapless hero. “Your luck has to flip around someday . He alright, Four?” Twilight back-flipped away from another sword swipe, then immediately leapt up and forward to land a strike, a piece of armor finally falling away under the focused hit.  

 

“He’s okay! I’ve got him, you take the darknut,” came the prompt reply, and Twilight’s furious “Get him out of here!” was effectively drowned out by the squalor of a couple blazing mad scrub torches hurtled past, firing nuts at random. Shadow hissed as his attack was cut short by the onslaught, forced to pool back into Twilight’s shadow to avoid getting nailed by one of the hurtling projectiles. The Ranchhand, meanwhile drew on the hidden skills the Shade had taught him, trusting them not to fail him now; it took a perfectly timed, precisely placed hit at full strength to rattle the armor loose, and longer than he cared to admit to string enough of those together to leave it stripped of its metal coating, straightening up to stand even higher, reeking like a rotting corpse. 

 

He knew what came next, but it was still somehow an unpleasant surprise.

 

It was faster, now, unburdened as it lunged and dodged, and Twilight felt his bones rattle under a hit that would have sent most any of the other heroes flying. Four was suddenly there as he held their blades locked together, spinning deftly and sinking a strike deep into its flank. Shadow tripped it as it turned to face the smaller hero, and that was time enough for another jumping strike from Twilight that should have stunned it, strong enough to send it sprawling on the ground.

 

And yet. 

 

He couldn’t muster much more than aggravated impatience when it shook the blow off like the deep rent in its shoulder meant nothing at all. It whirled back onto its feet, the spinning strike clanging off his sword and sending him stumbling back several paces. Four skipped away to avoid the attack as well, but with Twilight forced out of range all its focus pinned on the Smithy, the claymore singing in furious slashes that chased Four backwards, leaving no time for the smaller hero to recoup as he struggled to stay away from the blows he couldn’t survive. 

 

Twilight caught his balance too slowly, tired from the battle wearing on so viciously and so long, and was beaten to the rescue by Wild, diving in to stab the darknut and immediately getting nearly beheaded for his effort, making the mistake of catching the backhanded sword swing on his ragged blade with a brittle sounding clatter of steel. The Champion reeled back under the blow, staggering for balance, and - gods above, can he not catch a single break ever - stepped onto the shaft of a discarded weapon, going down hard with a cry that cut straight to Twilight’s racing heart. 

 

But they weren’t the only ones watching out for Wild, keeping an eye on him, and Twilight may have been a step too far as the darknut leapt up to stab his newest soulmate through, but Sky -

 

Sky came from nowhere , catching the undead creature right from the air with a sidelong, glowing strike. The darknut landed awkwardly with a horrible shriek that thrummed at a vibrating frequency, missing Wild but far too close to the downed hero considering the reach of its arms and claymore. Twilight was there in the next step, hurtling over Wild’s legs and hammering the darknut farther back, and Warriors and Hyrule bracket him, Time prowling at their backs and Sky watching for any opening. 

 

Infected or not, the darknut did not last long under the focused wrath of that many heroes. Wild’s voice hummed alongside Legend’s and Four’s without concern, and with that reassurance Twilight let himself step back, guiding the others through the best means to finish off  the unarmored monster. He parried a slash away from Hyrule when the Traveller hesitated too much whilst attacking, underestimating the darknut’s speed and skill.  Sky was the one to finish it with a leaping strike to the back of the neck whilst Warriors had its claymore pinned to the ground with a clever sword trick and some careful leverage, the Mastersword’s glow catching across his eyes until they looked nearly as vividly blue as Wild’s. 

 

And then just like that, it's over. The gorge was quiet save for those checking up on Wild and the others checking that no monsters lingered nearby. Twilight checked their faces, noted the fading panic and lack of alarm in their scents. They’re all primarily fine, then, and still feeling adrenaline buzzing too loudly through him to just hover he stalks to Time and Warriors’ sides, eyes flitting at the trees around for any sign of survivors feeling bold enough to counter strike. 

 

“Those that escaped were mostly lower tier monsters,” Warriors said, pointing the way they’d come. “A few varieties of bokoblins and those of the scrubs that didn’t burn up.” He seamlessly included Twilight as he spoke, shifting to include him in the semi circle.

 

“The scouts should be able to take care of those if need be, and Lullaby will be sending escorts with merchant trains for a week or two to be sure.” Time provided, seeming content to leave the rest to the king’s men.  

 

Twilight frowned,but despite his willingness to burn off some of the excess adrenaline by hunting down the escaped monsters, Warriors talked him down, and keeping vigilant guard over the group as they got Wild fixed up settled him all the same. It helped, seeing his and and the other’s minor injuries being treated, and the light-hearted joking when they realized where exactly the skulltula had managed to sink its jaws was irresistibly amusing. 

 

Wild was just mostly relieved they were taking his injury so well, seeming far more nervous at them battening down again than at the near disaster that had been narrowly averted. He all but glowed as Time complimented him on a battle well fought, relishing in the reserved Old Man’s praise as much as they all did, but brightened even more when Twilight sent him a tired but genuine smile, more glad that the Champion was alright than willing to linger on the fear of finding him beset on in the midst of the battle. 

 

Wild beamed at him, and all he could do was sigh and ruffle that long hair, still afraid but guilty now too. He knew the other was a capable fighter, and what misfortunes befell him were had not yet managed to outweigh the Champion’s wits and uncanny ability to wiggle out of tricky, improbable situations. Twilight knew that it was reasonable to worry, and knew that whatever this was went well beyond that. Wild hadn’t noticed yet, but it was only a matter of time, and Twilight knew he’d blame himself. 

 

Funny, that that’s what it took to realize he needed to do something different. 

 

That night, Time and he took first watch, and the moment hit, suddenly; his mentor’s calm, relaxed demeanor, the quiet as conversation died down, the fear sitting in his chest, haunting him still. And just like that, he was speaking. For the first time, he talked about how afraid he still was- of Wild dying, of the others dying, of losing any of them and what would happen once this was over. The words bled out of him until they all blurred together as he shook, hiding his tears in Time’s shoulder as his mentor drew him into a hug, murmuring softly. 

 

“I’m scared too,” Time admitted, and of course he was- they all  were after Wild’s death, after feeling what it would be like, knowing it could happen even to Hylia’s blessed heroes. 

 

“Not like this, though,” Twilight whispered shamefully, because the others weren’t paralyzed by it like he was, could control and overcome it when he felt like a leaf caught by autumn winds. 

 

“No, but you’ve been trying to do this all alone, and you were never meant to. None of us are, any more, not bound as we all are now. There are seven others who felt Wild die, and nine of us still.” Time’s voice went softer. “You’re not worse, for being this affected. You just… get lost, sometimes, in your emotions and in others’, and we were all of us feeling that grief and pain. You just haven’t left that place yet, and you don’t deserve to linger there.” 

 

Twilight just breathed, listening, considering how even speaking about it had already helped, like lancing a wound. 

 

“I can’t promise that it will all end fine. This could get us killed, but … I’m still glad that portal came to bring us all together. Even Wild, where it went so wrong, would agree if you asked him- the bonds he has with us, the happiness he’s found here, it’s all worth the suffering.”

 

“It almost cost his life,” Twilight said, nearly a moan as he pressed his forehead harder into Time’s shoulder. 

 

“Only almost.” Time gave him a soft shake. “He’s still here, though. You can’t dwell on the dead ends of the past or the dark possibilities of the future, Twilight, not with the lives we lead. We can’t avoid wondering, or fearing, but you cannot live like the worst is inevitable. Wild died, and he came back. We’re all still alive, and we can make it out without losing any of us.” 

 

Not a promise. A chance, though, and a conviction that rang through Time’s voice to resonate somewhere in Twilight’s mind.

 

He grasped tighter at Time’s wrist, keeping his face hidden. “We can all make it out alive,” he repeated in a lost voice. And of course they could, but amidst everything - the pain and the fear and the Spring and that horrible ride through the night- he’d somehow just… let that fade under active recognition. Lost it to the terror of feeling that void once more.  

 

“We are heroes, experienced and skilled and blessed, with more tricks up our sleeves than is truly fair to our enemy. We’ve survived so much alone, and we’re only stronger for having each other to fight alongside and live for.” Time pressed a cheek to the top of his head, the calm confidence softening into something painfully gentle. “We can all make it, Pup.”

 

(He did not say that Twilight wouldn’t lose them, though, and that was a different kind of hurt that sank in, a quiet, throbbing ache that no matter what, he still only had so much time with them.)

 

And Twilight was crying again, silently shaking, feeling the start of a shift in the familiar panic lodged within him. It wasn’t gone, not yet, but- the solid foundation of dread it had been built on was crumbling. Just a little, but it was something, a start. 

 

It would be enough, eventually.

 

They didn’t talk much the rest of the watch, shoulders touching as they stared into the fire and listened to the night cycle on beyond its flickering cast. Time’s presence was a lulling calm to the nerves that seemed scraped raw, and gradually he settled, enough that when they switched out and he settled beside Hyrule and his mentor, he found sleep easily. 

 

A pleasant change, that.

 

-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

The portal came within the next day, finding them while they were tracking down stray monsters to kill the time. Time had gone with him, clearly keeping a closer eye on him after last night's… events. It was impossible to be humiliated or embarrassed when Time simply talked through any attempts to clam up or apologize, not pushing but not letting him retreat back into isolation and masking again. In the light of day it was harder. As the air between them grew increasingly awkward, Twilight overthinking every response to Time’s harmless, mundane questions, the older hylian simply let his lips quirk into a small smile, patient as ever. Then he suggested Wolfie could be of assistance, and yes, the chance to escape the pressures of talking. 

 

The instant Twilight was settled on all fours Time knelt and immediately began rubbing at his ears, petting him until he was flattened on the ground, half insensate with the hands kneading easily over muscle, scratching along his spine and under his jaw just right, setting his tail to wagging. Guard down, Twilight was completely unprepared for the thunder of footsteps and a weight flinging over him, Wild immediately burying his hands and face in his fur, petting as well while Sky crooned and cupped his face, gently running his thumbs over Twilight’s eyebrow and around his eyes and along his jaws in a soothing, gentle massage. 

 

He doesn’t think he can be blamed for falling asleep to that. 

 

He woke up to the familiar hum of a portal, something more felt than heard from this far. Twilight rolled onto his stomach, and Time glanced over from where he’d been sitting pressed against his back, hand still stroking through his fur. Most of the others were around, and the rest were likely already at or heading to the portal. 

 

Time cocked his head. “Want to go fetch Twilight, Wolfie?”

 

“No fair that you let him scout alone,” Wild said with wrinkled nose, knowing full well that Twilight was, in fact, right there . 

 

Time didn’t bat an eye. “He’s my favorite; he gets special rights.” 

 

Wind scowled. “Bullshit, you say that every time you make an exception for someone. I wanna know who your actual favorite is!” 

 

“He doesn’t have favorites!” Sky defended, even as Four kicked his feet, warning, “You’re not going to win this one, Wind. It’s still going to be Twilight.” Hyrule nodded along sincerely, and Wild thoughtfully tilted his head before bobbing it as well. Sky sputtered, looking to Time for help.  

 

“Right now it is definitely Twilight,” Time said flatly, giving them all the stink eye. 

 

“Talking favorites? And here I thought I was going to swoop in from dead last,” Legend proclaimed as he and Warriors pushed their way out of the brush. Time nudged Twilight, and he shook off the warm, fuzzy happiness, launching himself at his mentor and giving him a merciless snuffle over his face, finishing with a lick from chin to forehead before trotting off, rather pleased with how he’d managed to get Time’s bangs to stick up. 

 

(“Still your favorite?” Four asked jovially as Wolfie left, eyes sparkling as Time fixed his hair. 

 

The Old Man sighed, but couldn’t stifle the small smile that clung to his lips. “Always,” he said contently, even as his eye drifted fondly over them all.)

 

Twilight was back in two minutes, yet Warriors was already threatening to leave him behind, herding everyone but Time, who meandered at the back of the group. Wild slipped in beside him, threading their elbows together and pulling him to the front, already jabbering about seeing the portal again, despite Legend’s instant irritation. He let the thrum their voices flow over him, their happiness and confidence steady his own trepidation. 

 

He stared into the portal, knowing danger waited somewhere on the other side. Fate cast the dice, skittering and tripping and spinning. All Twilight could do was trust his brothers and the soul bond tying them together, life and death and sorrow and joy. 

 

They were worth any pain the future could bring. 

 

He stepped through, and let himself believe in a happy ending.

Notes:

Vio: Wow fantastic I get to be sick as both Four AND myself
Blue: YOU’RE WHY FOUR’S ALWAYS NAUSEOUS??? DRAGGING US ALL DOWN WITH YOU??? OH YOU BITCH
Red: but your headache-
Blue: COLORS WITHOUT SYMPTOMS DON’T GET A SAY

Time: Malon you’d love it, Wild’s world is so pro-horse
Time: And also I think they may have named the horse god after you so they know what’s important just saying

Time: so Wild said I was his favorite parent??? One, I’ve only known him a week and two-
Malon, self-acknowledged morosexual: god you’re so dumb

Me @ me: hey maybe not everyone wants to read about horses with silly names
Memetown McGee: Don’t be ridiculous Andrea, EVERYBODY WANTS THIS

Twilight everytime someone off-handedly alludes to Wild dying: I’m TIRED of feeling residual horror and panic over this very recent, very tragic event
Twilight’s lingering and understandable trauma response: THAT’S TOO DAMN BAD

The bone deep warmth of Four’s first soulbond description is courtesy of waterspouts; for the forge, for the multi-functional and practical campfire, for the solid reliability of the hearthfire, any of which I love for Four and any of his Colors.

Okay first of all the endnote is too damn long again, so check the comments for bonus rambling that didn't make it here~

Time takes leaving home so hard because he may have some lingering trauma over losing access to Kokiri Forest after his adventures; he’s lived through having home disappear and move on while he’s gone, to having things change and be lost while away, to returning to find there’s nothing left of the life he happily had before.

Ahh, Twilight still being Not Okay. I feel so bad for him- the other Links’ reactions to Wild’s death are so very incompatible with his- between dark humor (Wars, Legend), having cried/talked it out (Hyrule, Sky), or natural resiliency now that it's passed (Time, Wind, Four), Twi is really struggling as someone who has instead opted to bottle it up and pretend it’s fine. That doesn’t mean the others were less affected, but they were less /traumatized/. For Wars and Legend, joking about it is a means of exposure therapy, making it easier to get used to talking about it and having it hurt less and less. Hyrule and Sky lanced the worst of the fear and stress with their means of outlet, and continue to talk it out to help. For the others, when I say natural resilience, I just mean they’re able to bounce back quicker, especially since Wild’s fine now. Not that it wasn’t awful at the time, just that without repercussions, it’s easier for them to move on. It’s no slight on their part (depth of emotional attachment to Wild) or Twilight’s (degree of sensitivity), just part of the different ways people cope.

Everyone’s response to grief is different, and sometimes it takes longer to recover from. Twilight isn’t weaker because he’s more caught up on it than the others, he’s just struggling more with healing from it. It’s also worth noting that they aren’t all as fine as he thinks either- just that he’s seeing their coping mechanisms as signs of them being completely over it rather than a different healing process than his own, or simply not aware of the pain being expressed behind the scenes since he opts for isolation and masking with no outlet. He likes to be the shoulder to cry on, but the others are absolutely aware he cannot take on anyone else’s grief in this atop his own, and have been avoiding coming to him for support. Still offering it, but Twi’s mistakenly perceiving his own trauma as weakness (partially because for him its expressing as a borderline panic attack and dissociation, both more visible and paralyzing reactions than the others had), and that’s only getting worse the more time passes and he feels he should be as ‘alright’ as he thinks the others are. But he isn’t, and while the Chain try to let everyone take their own approach to coping they are cottoning on to the fact that Twi’s gonna need some outside help, no matter how much he’ll hate it at the start.

Ugh, not me wanting not to give Twi any closure and realizing I fucked up by making him the closing POV so I HAD to give him a little treat lol that ending was so awful I had my heels dug in the whole time on how to turn things around for him, even if only a little bit

Now, the fic is done but may still undergo some minor editing. Nothing significant or plot changing, but maybe some dialogue being added or somesuch. Just so you guys know. I would suggest subscribing to the series, as odds are high that I’ll be adding one-shots to it. There will not be any further giant stories, but I’ve got a few prompts I’d like to chase without the pressure of a huge commitment behind them.

Stay tuned and stay groovy, everyone~

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of Follow the Lights Verse