Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The comforting familiarity of his own era struck Twilight from the very moment the portal released him from its grip. ‘My Hyrule,’ he announced. ‘Faron Woods from the look of things. Everyone ok?’

It seemed to have been a rather gentle landing for once, or perhaps they were all – except perhaps semi-conscious Four – getting used to the process of shifting between eras. Hard to say whether or not to be worried about their newest member’s half-hysterical demand for a group hug, although, on reflection, Wild was going on about thirty-five hours without sleep at that point. It was probably fine.

‘Faron Woods?’ Time mused aloud once everyone was more or less settled. ‘Near your hometown then, aren’t we, pup?’

‘Only a few hours away,’ Twilight confirmed. ‘Assuming I have our position correct, that is.’ He paused briefly to scan over their surroundings once more, listening carefully to the forest ambience. ‘Seems like this spot is fairly safe for the moment, so if you wouldn’t mind waiting ten to twenty minutes, I could take a quick walk to confirm our location? If I’m right, there should be a landmark fairly close that I can check against. Ok with you?’

Time’s brow knitted and he had just opened his mouth to respond when a small, hesitant sound from Wild cut him off. The younger hero fidgeted subtly, glancing over with a pleading expression on his face.

Time’s lip quirked. ‘Don’t stray too far,’ he cautioned. ‘You should probably take someone with you, to be safe.’ He paused theatrically. ‘How about Wild? If he’s feeling up to it, that is?’

Wild’s face lit up and he jumped to his feet. ‘I’m good. Let’s go!’

‘That’s so unfair, why doesn’t he get any portal sickness?’ Four moaned.

Twilight laughed at the slightly sheepish expression from Wild. ‘He’s kidding,’ Twilight assured him. ‘Four always gets like this with portals. He’ll be fine in no time.’

‘Me? What did I do?!’ Time promptly demanded.

Twilight made a face at him, while Wild had the gall to laugh. ‘Alright, we’re out of here, then,’ he stated. ‘C’mon, Wild. We better leave before the old man manages to corrupt you too.’ He slung an arm around the teen’s shoulders and spun him away from the terrible influence that was his mentor.

‘Don’t say it,’ Legend called sharply from behind Twilight’s back.

‘He’s gonna say it,’ Four sighed.

‘If he doesn’t, I will,’ Wind contributed.

Ignoring the chatter, Time called out, ‘You can’t protect him from me forever, pup. In the end –’

‘It’s only a matter of Time,’ Hyrule finished cheerily, drawing an enraged choking sound from Legend.

Twilight groaned loudly. Wild burst into laughter.

It was probably a good thing that Twilight had experience both as a goatherd and as an older brother. He wasn’t entirely sure which of those skillsets applied most to the current situation. Sometimes, it seemed, there was a surprising degree of crossover between the two.

Speaking of which.

‘Those are super-duper poisonous,’ he swiftly warned the one-hundred-and-seventeen-year-old reaching eagerly towards a lethal cluster of green and white mushrooms.

Not put-out at all, Wild swiftly took several photos, demanded to know the name, genus and chemical composition (Twilight knew what at least one of those words meant) of the mushroom, before being thoroughly distracted by a passing butterfly.

Twilight couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘The moss isn’t edible either,’ he added quickly upon seeing the speculative glint in Wild’s eyes.

‘I was just looking,’ he sulked.

Sure.

‘Settle down,’ Twilight chided, though not without warmth. ‘You’ll have plenty of chances to explore later, but we need to head back to the others for now. I’ve figured out our location.’

‘Already?’ a disappointed Wild asked.

‘Mm hm. See how the trees thin out over there?’ Twilight pointed. ‘We’re right near the forest temple. It’s not a great spot, so make sure to keep an eye out for monsters as we walk.’

Sobering immediately, Wild asked, ‘What kind of monsters?’

‘Keese, deku babas, maybe a few bokoblins… in the normal state of things, that would be it. But of course, we don’t really know for sure with the infection.’

Wild glanced curiously in his direction. ‘What was that second one you mentioned? Deku babas? I don’t think I’ve encountered those.’

‘Oh. Well, they’re basically plant monsters. Think big toothy mouth stuck on a thin, snake-like neck. If you spot anything that looks like a giant dandelion without any flowers, approach with care. Or better: call me. If I spot one, I’ll point it out for you. Don’t be fooled by their harmless appearance; the main body hides underground until you’re in range. They’re not particularly strong, but they are fast and their teeth are sharp. Some of them are poisonous. Or venomous, I guess?’

Wild made a face. ‘And how do you fight them?’

‘Cut along the jaw, if you can,’ he answered. ‘Right through the middle. Cutting the stem is enough to kill most of the ones from Time’s era or Wars’s, but mine’ll just crawl across the ground and keep biting. For a while, at least; I doubt they can survive like that for long. I’d suggest stunning it first – a shield bash works, or ranged weapons if you prefer. They like to lunge.’

‘Are they flammable?’ Wild asked with complete seriousness.

‘Uhh…’ Thrown just a little off balance, Twilight paused to contemplate his response. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe? But maybe hold off on that idea until our surroundings are a little less flammable.’

Wild tilted his head in contemplation. ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ he promised in a tone that suggested it would be back of mind at best. Twilight sighed inwardly, jotting down a mental note for later reference. He’d had more than enough accidental fires to last a lifetime.

They walked for a while in a peaceful silence broken only by occasional safety warnings and instructional guidance (no, not edible, no, not friendly, HOLY SHIT IT’S A SQUIRREL LET’S GO SMOOSH ITS CHEEKS – oh, a Faron bushberry? Yep, good find; give it a taste. You can use the leaves too, you know. Let’s grab some while we’re here).

‘Wild, while I’ve got you…’ Twilight began at last.

‘Yes?’ Wild asked curiously.

Twilight hesitated. ‘I, uhh… didn’t really get a chance to explain this to you beforehand, but you know that thing you saw when we first met?’

Wild shot him a confused look. ‘Which thing?’

‘The… wolf thing.’

‘Oh,’ said Wild. ‘The you turning into a wolf thing?’

‘Yeah. That,’ Twilight said lamely. ‘Look, the thing is… I really didn’t intend for you to see that. The others don’t know yet, ’cept for Time, and –’ he winced, thinking back to their last few moments in Wild’s era ‘– and maybe Legend. From what he said…’ A thought suddenly struck, and he couldn’t help the accusing edge that crept into his tone as he asked, ‘Were you the one who told him?’

‘I didn’t tell anyone,’ Wild said quickly. ‘I, uh, figured it might be a secret. Just based on what I overheard, and how Sky introduced “Wolfie” to me like you were a stranger. W-well… I wasn’t completely sure, I mean, m-maybe he knew but didn’t know I knew, I didn’t exactly know h-how to ask, but –’

‘It’s ok,’ Twilight cut in, sensing the beginnings of a spiral. ‘Just… if you could keep it to yourself from now on, I’d appreciate that.’

‘Of course,’ Wild said fervently. ‘Don’t worry: I know how to keep a secret.’

Twilight’s tense posture loosened. ‘Thank you.’

Wild shook his head dismissively, but his expression turned a little hesitant. ‘Why, though?’ he queried. ‘If you don’t mind me asking, that is.’

Twilight looked away, biting his lip. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Wild’s restless fidgeting pick up again, saw his expression shift, saw him ready himself to brush it off –

‘The, uh… the magic involved in the transformation isn’t good magic,’ Twilight explained in a low tone. ‘Thought you might’ve figured that out based on how you originally reacted, but… well. Everyone’s era seems to be a little different in terms of how common magic is and how it’s viewed. It’s not at all common in mine and it’s not seen particularly favourably for the most part, since what little magic there is tends to be the… not-good kind. I encountered a lot of that kind of magic during my quest, and had to learn how to wield it myself – to an extent at least. I still use it now. It’s undeniably useful, but I wouldn’t blame the others for getting angry if they knew. Or for losing trust in me. Trust that it may not be possible to regain. It’s simplest to keep this sort of thing to myself, at least for now.’

Wild chewed over that for a moment, brow furrowing. ‘I don’t really know much about magic,’ he eventually admitted. ‘What makes it good or bad, anyway? How is what you do different from what Hyrule does? Or Wind, or Legend, or Four? Or, umm… j-just suppose I was to encounter magic in my own world, how would I know if it’s the good kind or the bad kind?’

Twilight gave a weak smile. ‘Well, I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m an expert – I’ll leave that to those you mentioned – but I’ll tell you what I know. Putting it simply? If used in a careful and controlled way, dark magic isn’t necessarily all that different from light magic. It’s possible to achieve more or less the same results with either, at least theoretically. The difference is that light magic has certain rules built into it that dark magic doesn’t need to comply with.

‘Light magic is gifted by the gods and their servants to those they deem worthy. Dark magic is something that anyone can learn. Light magic draws on the wielder’s strength and will. Dark magic can be powered by all sorts of things, and it isn’t as closely bound to its user as light magic is.

‘Because those restrictions don’t apply, dark magic can be dangerous and destructive in a way that light magic simply isn’t designed for, and it’s also far more easily corrupted. It’s possible for it to be used for good, possible for it to be used in moderation… but it’s not a toy. Play around with fire for long enough and someone is sure to get burned.’

Twilight fished out the shadow crystal he wore around his neck. ‘This is what I use to transform,’ he explained. ‘It was originally a curse, but someone I trust taught me how to use it to my advantage. That person is gone now. I doubt she expected me to hold onto it for as long as I have. I expect she’d have some stern words for me, if she knew…’

His throat went tight towards the end of the sentence. Funny, how much one could miss being called an idiot. And likely wishful thinking in any case: Midna had achieved all she needed, after all, and then she’d left forever, taking with her the only means of communication between their worlds. Why would she care how he lived his life?

He cleared his throat and pressed onwards. ‘That’s why I told Time. If I had to tell someone, then he seemed like the best choice… and seeing as how we were all about to go travelling together, I figured someone ought to know. Just in case.’

‘In case of what?’ Wild asked flatly.

Twilight finally turned his full attention back to his companion, noting with surprise the odd, mulish expression on Wild’s face. ‘Well, in case I…’ he began, trailing off when he realised he wasn’t quite sure how that sentence ended.

He thought of kind-faced women transformed into screeching monstrosities, of weak-hearted fools transformed into dangerous tyrants, of grinning, ashen monstrosities that wore Twilight’s own face. He thought of lines of inky blackness burrowing deeper and deeper into his own skin, blurring the boundary between man and beast further and further, until one day, perhaps –

‘Just in case in general,’ Twilight concluded distantly. ‘You never really know, do you? As I said, it’s not a toy.’ He shook himself free of his wayward imaginings. ‘C’mon, Wild. The others will be wondering where we are.’

He turned and began to stride forward once again, with Wild trailing slowly after.

As it turned out, deku babas were flammable, supposing sufficient quantities of flame were applied. In related news: Warriors had confiscated Legend’s fire rod and was carrying it over his shoulder, well out of its owner’s reach.

‘Sheesh. You burn down a few measly shrubs, and suddenly you’re a “dangerous pyromaniac”,’ said owner grumbled. ‘You seem to have mistaken me for Wind. Or Four.’

‘Could happen,’ Warriors remarked thoughtfully. ‘I mean, you’re all tiny and loud.’

In a moment of beautiful unity, Legend kicked Warriors in the back of the knees, Four tripped Warriors up with the Cane of Pacci, and Wind took the opportunity to seize the fire rod and run off cackling.

‘Give that back, you shitty little brat!’ Legend yelled, immediately giving chase.

Maybe not so much unity, then.

‘There are still monsters around!’ Twilight called after them.

‘Oh, I know!’ Wind called back. Through the thickening fog, Twilight saw a burst of flame and heard a keese shriek.

‘At least let me have a go too,’ Warriors grumbled in a low voice that Twilight probably wasn’t supposed to overhear. A second gout of flame joined the first as Legend pulled out the spare fire rod that he apparently had.

‘Pup?’ Time called.

Twilight turned his attention back to his mentor. ‘Yes?’

‘Is this level of monster activity normal around here?’ Time asked.

Twilight nodded. ‘As far as I recall, yes. The population is maybe a little larger than the last time I was in the area, but we haven’t encountered anything that shouldn’t be here.’ He grimaced. ‘There’s always been keese, always been deku babas – they’re like weeds. It was only during my quest, or slightly before it, that the worse things started appearing.’

‘Worse things?’

‘Bokoblins, bulbins… sometimes shadow beasts. And worse versions of the common monsters, too. Even the environment turned hostile… used to be poison fog around here, actually. Don’t worry; you’d see and smell it if there was any here now.

‘I’m relieved, actually,’ he added. ‘I haven’t been back here for a while, even before this whole thing started, so I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect.’

Time turned a sharp eye on him. ‘Really? Wasn’t this your home?’

Twilight squirmed slightly under the attention. ‘Well, yes, but… that was before Zant and Ganondorf. And there’s always things to do elsewhere, you know? Shad’s research, helping out with the repairs in Kakariko, occasionally playing diplomat with the Gerudo people out west… don’t know why Her Majesty thought I was a good choice for that, but for some reason she did. Or does. So, yes: it’s been a while. Don’t be too surprised if my family kicks up a bit of a fuss when we arrive.’

‘We don’t have to meet with them if you don’t want to,’ Time stated bluntly. ‘If I implied that, I apologise.’

Twilight startled. ‘Huh?! No, that’s not it at all! I’m looking forward to seeing them again. They’re my family – not by blood, but by any other interpretation of the word. I just…’ He gave Time a sheepish glance. ‘Things changed when I left Ordon, back then. There are secrets now that make things awkward sometimes.’

Time’s tight expression shifted, taking on a reproachful edge instead. ‘I see.’ For a moment, Twilight assumed he was going to leave it there (not like the dreaded Disappointed Dad Voice didn’t tell him enough), before Time quietly added, ‘I have a somewhat similar situation with my own family, for what it’s worth. The ones who raised me, that is.’

Twilight’s eyes widened. ‘Really?’

Time looked over at him and laughed. ‘What? Is it that surprising?’

‘I… well, it’s just… you don’t tend to talk much about your past,’ Twilight said uncertainly.

‘And yet I constantly ask about yours,’ Time pointed out. ‘Rude, isn’t it?’

‘Well, I mean, not that I’m not curious, but…’

Surprising him again, Time offered, ‘Which parts are you curious about? I don’t mind sharing a few details.’

Twilight relaxed, taking courage from the open expression on his mentor’s face. ‘Who raised you, then?’ he asked. ‘What sort of people were they?’

‘Kids, mostly,’ Time replied with a completely straight face. ‘Immortal kids, that is, and the fairies that lived alongside them. Some of the creatures in the forest helped too, though they weren’t exactly gentle or tame. I figured out early on that if you picked a fight with certain Deku Scrubs then they’d teach you something cool if you won. And then there was Dad. Dad was a tree.’

Twilight halted, pinching his brow. ‘“Dad was a tree”,’ he repeated flatly.

‘Dad was a tree,’ Time confirmed solemnly.

Twilight watched him for a moment, waiting to see if his mentor was going to back down on the claim, before he sighed and turned away, doing his best to push down the bitter disappointment. ‘Sure. Your dad was a tree. If you want. Well, in any case, we should probably keep moving if we want to make it to Ordon by nightfall. Assuming the sailor and the vet are done playing around, that is.’ As he spoke, Twilight spotted a third gout of flame – was that Wild? By process of elimination, considering how he could see Hyrule standing next to Four and Warriors next to Sky, that was probably Wild. Wow, that would have to be… what? Thirty-six hours without sleep?

Time spoke up again, sounding slightly contrite at least. ‘I wasn’t lying,’ he said. ‘Teasing a little, maybe, and I apologise for that… but I wasn’t lying. My, uh…’ He coughed lightly. ‘My childhood was a little unconventional by Hylian standards. Do you know anything about Kokiri Forest?’

Twilight frowned. ‘I’ve heard stories of a place by that name. A paradise hidden within the Lost Woods, where the seasons never change and the sun never sets. Stories, only. There’s no evidence the place ever existed, let alone that it still exists.’

Time smiled faintly. ‘Is that so? I suppose the same is true of my own era’s Kokiri Forest, at least from the point of view of the outside world. It’s not as though the place is reachable by just any curious traveller. But it does exist. Or did, at least. It’s where I grew up.’

Twilight eyed him cautiously. ‘You’re telling the truth?’

‘I am,’ Time assured him. ‘Lies don’t come naturally to me, I’m afraid. I can lie if I need to, but it’s… uncomfortable.’

Something about that delicate phrasing had Twilight wincing slightly, thinking of the various occasions Time had been forced to lie on his behalf, if only for the sake of guarding a secret his protégé was too cowardly to reveal.

‘Something wrong?’ Time asked.

‘Oh. No, just… thinking,’ he replied hastily. ‘Kokiri Forest, huh? So, it does exist. That’s surprising… these days, you know, even talking about the place is a bit of a taboo. Around Ordon, at least.’

‘Why is that?’ Time asked curiously.

‘Because kids would run off trying to find the place,’ said Twilight. ‘They’d get lost, or they’d get hurt because of the monsters in the woods. Even I tried it at one point, on a dare of course… nearly sent my poor father to an early grave with worry. He was so grateful to find me alive and unharmed that he forgot to even scold me. An adult may be able to fend off keese and deku babas without issue, but I would’ve only been about six or seven years old back then.’

Time snorted. ‘What a naughty little child. Save the life and death battles for when you’re at least ten.’

Twilight shuddered. ‘Goddesses no, bad enough that Wind –’ His eyes widened in horror. ‘Wait: you were ten as well?!’

‘Technically younger if we’re talking first monster fight, but yes: I was ten at the start of my first adventure,’ Time confirmed. ‘No need for that look, pup. It is what it is. It’s not as if any of us chose this destiny.’ When Twilight continued to not say anything, he sighed and added, ‘It was probably inevitable from the beginning, you know, considering the circumstances of my birth.’

‘In what sense?’ Twilight asked faintly.

‘In the sense of being a Hylian raised in a place that Hylians weren’t supposed to be able to access,’ Time replied dryly. He gazed absently off into the forest and explained, ‘At the time of my birth, a great war was raging across Hyrule. My father was targeted, and therefore so was his family. My mother fled, and somehow she made it to Kokiri Forest. It shouldn’t have been possible, but she managed it. There was no way the soldiers could follow her there – or that they would dare to try. But she was injured and weakened by her journey, and she didn’t survive for long. With her last breaths, she asked the Great Deku Tree to raise me on her behalf. She must have loved me very much, from the little I was told.

‘Kokiri Forest was indeed an ageless paradise,’ Time went on. ‘There’s no place quite like it anywhere else in Hyrule. It brims with primordial magic… magic that long died out elsewhere. The Kokiri are bound to that magic, so it wasn’t possible for them to leave. Not without the blessing of an awakened sage, or, in the absence of that, not without death or transformation akin to death. So, naturally, only a Hylian like myself could have possibly acted as an envoy to meet with Princess Zelda. And, naturally, no one seemed particularly surprised to see me go. As if it had been inevitable from the very beginning. That was how my quest began.’

Twilight did his best to rein in both his horror and his pity – neither of them would help Time, he knew – but he couldn’t help asking, ‘And you were ten years old at this point?’

‘The perfect age for adventuring,’ Time said sardonically. ‘Or not, I suppose, depending on who or what you ask… but that’s a story for another day.’

Of course. Still, this was far further than Twilight could have hoped for Time’s sudden openness to extend. Cautiously, he asked, ‘Your family. Do you miss them, still?’

‘I don’t know. Perhaps,’ Time replied. ‘I miss missing them, in a way. My old self is the one who would’ve missed them, and that old self is long gone.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s not as if I haven’t formed any new bonds since then. Or found any new people to miss. Nostalgia, I suppose, and the familiarity of this place. That’s all it is.’

That simple phrase seemed an insufficient full stop to the tale, yet Twilight could sense easily enough that the edges of his mentor’s comfort zone were beginning to close in once again. He let it go. ‘Thank you for telling me,’ he replied instead.

Time glanced over with surprise, opened his mouth as if to say something but then shut it again. ‘Thank you for listening,’ he eventually landed on. The brief touch of warm sincerity disappeared from his tone as he cheekily added, ‘Not every day you meet someone raised by a tree, now is it?’

Twilight shrugged. ‘Well, I always knew you had more bark than bite in you.’

Time gave a startled laugh. ‘Harsh. I’ll be sure to remember that next time we spar.’

And he would, Twilight knew. Time was petty like that. He chuckled. ‘Well, that said, I suppose we should keep movi–’

‘Huh?! Weird, this one doesn’t seem to be flammable,’ Wild’s surprised voice called from somewhere nearby.

‘Anything’s flammable if you try hard enough,’ Legend replied dismissively. ‘Here: let’s do it together. Three, two –’

‘I’ll help!’ Hyrule chimed in.

‘– One –’

‘Combo attack!’ yelled Wind.

A broad column of flame and several cries of alarm pierced through the fog. As the resulting chaos steadily built – Hyrule hysterically disclaiming knowledge of any anti-fire spells, Legend calling a rather panicked and extremely unconvincing “don’t worry; I have this under control” – Time gave a long-suffering sigh and reached for the inobtrusive blue ocarina hanging from his belt.

Twilight closed his eyes, took a few deep breaths, and, noting that the fire was still active when he opened his eyes once more, chose to indulge in an exasperated shout: ‘WHAT PART OF “WE’RE IN A FOREST” DO YOU PEOPLE NOT GET?!’

Chapter Text

The violent downpour summoned by Time’s ocarina placed a rude halt on both the incumbent forest fire and any ill-advised attempts to introduce market competition. As an unfortunate side effect, the entire group of time-travelling heroes found themselves thoroughly drenched and more than a little miserable about it by the time Twilight’s house came into view.

Cementing his status as local hero, Twilight wasted no time in passing around blessedly soft and dry blankets and quilts, setting a (safe and controlled, albeit far less exciting) fire in the hearth and then placing a pot of water above it to heat. He then retrieved his cleaning supplies and made a quick and frantic attempt at dusting, only to realise that none was required. Legend watched an odd, sentimental expression briefly cross his face, going unnoticed by the rest of the group as Twilight turned back to his cabinets.

It felt private. Legend looked away, gazing instead to where Wild was contentedly chopping vegetables and then a little further off to find Wind and Warriors unabashedly snooping through the books and keepsakes stored on Twilight’s shelves. He snorted softly at the sight, then winced at the small twinge of pain the motion wrung from him.

‘Lege? You ok?’ Hyrule asked.

Legend jolted. ‘Shit, kid. How long’ve you been there?’

‘The whole time,’ Hyrule deadpanned. Shifting immediately back into business mode, he asked, ‘How much pain are you in? Scale of one to ten?’

‘Zero,’ Legend informed him loftily. ‘Just damp and cold, like everyone else. Old man went a bit overboard this time, didn’t he?’

‘Well, you did start a forest fire,’ Time contributed from his other side – huh, Legend’s perception was really off if he hadn’t noticed the old man either. ‘That said, this level of rain couldn’t have been entirely my doing. Maybe I hastened it along a little, but I think the storm might have already been on its way in.’

‘’Course it was,’ Legend muttered. ‘Thought it seemed a bit humid earlier.’ Thunder roiled in the distance and he flinched involuntarily, clutching at the blanket around his shoulders and doing his best to pretend he wasn’t shaking.

A warm hand settled against his brow. Sluggishly, he batted it away. ‘Knock it off. I’m fine,’ he retorted, punctuating his statement with a sneeze.

‘Bet you’d be even more fine if you weren’t half-frozen,’ Time said mildly. ‘Let’s get you closer to the hearth.’ Without waiting for a response or listening to any of Legend’s several complaints, their little shit of a leader then picked Legend up, blanket and all, and carried him to the fireplace. Continuing to not listen to any of Legend’s several complaints, Time settled the younger hero in his lap like a pet cat and wrapped another blanket around the two of them – briefly opening his arms a moment later to permit Hyrule entrance.

‘You’re lucky I like you,’ Legend informed Hyrule mulishly, and, twisting to face Time, added, ‘you’re lucky you’re too stupidly overpowered for me to fight off.’

‘I’m a lucky man indeed,’ Time agreed peaceably, despite the fact that Legend was wearing two power bracelets and Time was wearing none. Details.

‘All good over there?’ Twilight called. ‘Need another blanket?’

‘What I need is for you to get your mentor under control,’ Legend grumbled.

‘Another blanket would be lovely,’ Time replied serenely.

‘Actually, Twi, could I ask a favour?’ Hyrule asked. He poked a hand free of the blanket, revealing a small tin. ‘Once the water’s ready, could you make some of this tea for Legend please?’

Twilight accepted the tin, glancing over it curiously. ‘Sure, I can do that.’ He moved back to the kitchen cabinet and fished out a battered copper teapot.

Legend scowled. ‘Funny. I don’t recall agreeing to drink any weird teas. Were you planning on asking me?’

He couldn’t see Hyrule’s face, but he felt the subtle flinch and mentally kicked himself. Another crash of thunder interrupted his attempt to form a proper apology, and in the moment when that incessant terror scrambled his thoughts and words, Hyrule quietly explained, ‘It’s a herbal blend from Wild’s era. Supposed to be good for pain relief and to help you sleep. It’s not very strong, but it’s better than nothing. Sorry, Lege, I just… I have an anti-inflammatory potion as well, but you’re not supposed to use it right before evening… and I can give you some more of that cream we tried before, but it just doesn’t seem like it did much… I’ll try to find something better soon. And if all else fails, I can try my magic?’

‘Forget it. Like hell are you wearing yourself out again for my sake,’ Legend huffed. ‘Look, ’Rule, I know you mean well, but this seriously isn’t anything you need to upset yourself over. I really am fine.’ He drew a shaking arm around his successor’s shoulders in his best attempt at a non-verbal apology for his harsh tone.

Hyrule shifted thoughtfully at his side. A determined edge crept into his tone as he asked, ‘So, you’ll drink the tea then?’

‘I… uh…’ Legend began uncertainly. ‘I guess? It’s not gonna knock me out or anything, is it? And no side effects I need to know about?’

‘Nope,’ Hyrule said quickly. ‘Assuming you don’t have any allergies, at least? Like I said, it’s pretty weak. I can even tell you the ingredients if you need. I know I’m not much of a healer, let alone a herbalist, but –’

‘No, kid, you’re doing great!’ Legend disputed quickly. ‘Shit, you’re doing amazing. Everyone thinks so. Right, Time?!’

‘Right,’ Time assented solemnly. ‘That said, ’Rule, maybe now isn’t the best –’

‘Then why are you lying to me?!’ Hyrule burst out. ‘Don’t tell me you’re not in pain if you really are. I’m trying to help you, Legend! Am I really so unreliable that you need to keep pretending there’s nothing wrong when there very clearly is?!’

‘N-no. ’Rule, c’mon, you know that’s not –!’

Lightning flashed as Hyrule spoke, and thunder followed mere moments later, cutting through Legend’s attempt at a response. He gritted his teeth, releasing his grip on Hyrule in favour of drawing his arms in close, fingernails digging into elbows.

‘I… uh… well, pain is kind of a relative thing, right?’ Legend hedged. ‘I m-mean, to some people a stubbed toe might feel like the end of the world, but if you’re used to getting your toes stubbed on a daily basis, then –’

Hyrule’s expression only tightened further. ‘For argument’s sake, then,’ he pressed, ‘if you had to plot it on a scale of one to ten, where zero is not being in pain at all and ten is being in so much pain that you’re about to pass out… where would you put yourself right now?’

‘I –’

Lightning flashed. Thunder followed less than a second later, and Legend jerked in place. ‘Sh-shit, that was pretty close, huh,’ he laughed breathlessly.

Hyrule prodded him viciously in the side. ‘Give me a number, Legend,’ he snapped.

Number? Oh. The pain thing. ‘Maybe a… one or a two?’ Hyrule let out a displeased hum. ‘Th-three at most? Depending on how your scale works? Look, Roolie, it really isn’t a big deal…’

‘Why do you keep flinching?’ Hyrule asked flatly.

‘Ah… w-well, that’s –’

‘Hyrule. Stop,’ Time said severely. ‘You’re –’

The inside of Twilight’s house went white as thunder crashed outside, close enough to shake the floorboards. Legend jolted violently and fell from Time’s lap with a piercing scream.

Pain exploded throughout his body and he shrieked. In a moment of weakness, his hands slipped from their death-grip on the ropes, sending him flying through the merciless night air. A tiny, inconsequential secondary jolt of agony registered in the brief moment between when his back smashed against the waves and when the current dragged him deeper down. His scream cut off with a gurgle. He couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think, he couldn’t –

‘Legend!’

Legend swam frantically in what he could only assume was an upwards direction. In the moment he surfaced, he blearily registered a familiar figure crouched before him. ‘R-Roolie?’ he tried to say. It came out as little more than a huff of air.

‘That’s it. Just breathe,’ Hyrule was saying soothingly, though the frightened expression on his face was anything but reassuring.

‘S-sorry. ’M okay,’ he gasped. The lightning was outside, he reminded himself fiercely. He took a deep breath and settled himself again. ‘H-huh. That one sounded a bit close, d-didn’t it?’ he said with a hectic chuckle. ‘H-here’s hoping farm boy didn’t f-forget to lightning-proof his treehouse.’

‘I didn’t forget,’ said farm boy assured him quietly. ‘We’ll be ok in here.’ Twilight carefully offered him a steaming mug. ‘Think you can take a sip? It’s the tea Hyrule gave me.’

Legend rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh at the mollycoddling, façade only slightly spoiled by the hot water that slopped over his shaking fingers as he raised the mug to his lips. The tea smelled surprisingly pleasant considering its medicinal nature: a cursory sniff offered hints of lavender, rosemary and peppermint. As he took a sip, he added ginger to the list, as well as an obscene amount of honey – and since when did Twilight know how he took his tea?

‘Not bad,’ Legend said grudgingly. ‘The uh… the tea’s good. Thanks ’Rule. Thanks Twi.’

‘You’re welcome,’ Twilight replied smoothly. ‘Let me know if you want another cup.’ He glanced over at Hyrule, who continued to stare unresponsively at Legend, face twisting in a piteous expression that his successor should never, ever wear. Legend decided, for his own health, to not stare back.

‘Uhh… that r-reminds me,’ he said instead, raising his voice slightly as he called, ‘Wild, you s-sure you don’t need any help with the cooking?’

‘I’m almost done,’ Wild called back absently from his position near the stove – Legend doubted he’d been paying any attention to their conversation. ‘Just needs to simmer for a bit longer. I’m making a meat stew with endura shrooms and hearty radish. You’ll love it.’

‘O-oh. Yeah, that sounds great,’ Legend replied mindlessly. ‘C-come to think of it, you and ’Rule should trade notes. Roolie, did you know that Wild’s experienced in medicinal cooking? A-and Wild, you know Roolie’s our medic, right? I b-bet you could stand to learn a few things from each other.’

Wild spun to face him as he spoke, taking in his shaking form and the instinctual flinch Legend gave in response to yet another lightning strike.

Would Wild figure it out, he wondered? Wild knew about Koholint, after all, weird as that concept was. Legend continued to stare at him, silently begging for a merciful exit from the situation.

Whether it was Wild’s own perceptiveness or Legend’s unexpected development of telepathy, the former soon walked over and took a seat nearby. ‘Good idea,’ he said. ‘But actually, maybe Twilight would have a thing or two to add – we’re in his era right now, after all. Just from walking around earlier, seems things have changed a bit between his time and mine. Twi, were you listening?’

‘Sure. In fact, I have a book you and ’Rule might like,’ Twilight replied. ‘Let me grab it.’

‘Awesome!’ said Wild with genuine enthusiasm. He turned to Hyrule. ‘While we’re waiting: where’d you learn about medicine, anyway? I’ll be honest: most of what I know was picked up along the road.’

‘I…’ Hyrule began haltingly, glancing back to Legend and then away. ‘I learned a bit when I was young. Before leaving Calatia – before my first quest, I mean. Then later, Dawn gave me access to the royal library… I lived near the palace for a while, worked with the healers in Castle Town… ended up travelling again, and I picked up things in each town I visited along the way… they usually had at least one or two people with some medical knowledge…’

More tea splashed over the floor as thunder crackled again, thankfully further away this time, and Hyrule’s gaze snapped back to Legend once again. He quickly mopped the small puddle up with his sleeve and said, ‘That’s pretty impressive. No wonder you know so much. Useful skill to have. Heh. I, uh, actually started a blacksmithing apprenticeship at one point, you know. Didn’t end up sticking around to finish it off, so most days when I’m not questing, I’m helping my jackass squatter roommate rip people off in the item shop he runs in my house.’ Realising he was starting to ramble, Legend drowned his words out with another mouthful of tea.

‘Say. That jackass squatter roommate wouldn’t happen to be the guy who gave you the handkerchief, would it?’ Wild said, waggling his eyebrows daringly.

Legend choked on his tea. ‘That – huh – you?! No! We do not mention the handkerchief. There is no handkerchief!’

‘It’s a real cute non-existent handkerchief,’ Wind remarked innocently. ‘Someone clearly put a lot of effort into making it.’

Legend glared at him. Since when did that little shit see –?

‘Huh? We talking about Legend’s adorable little Mr. Hero handkerchief?’ Warriors chimed in to his deep dismay.

‘Ooh, did you manage to see it up close?!’ Sky gushed. ‘He keeps putting it away before I can get a good look.’

Legend scowled. ‘You all suck and I hate you.’

Twilight thumped back down on the floor, a heavy book clasped in his hands. ‘Love you too, Mr Hero,’ he said solemnly.

In normal circumstances, their evening meal would be the appropriate time to discuss plans for the next day, and for Twilight to brief them all on what to expect from his era. In practice, said conversation largely consisted of a half-hearted “eh. We should probably gather some information at the village”, followed by a longer stretch of cosy banter that Hyrule felt no guilt at all in zoning out of. He picked unhappily at his stew while staring blankly into the thoroughly dogeared pages of Twilight’s herbology encyclopedia.

Once dinner was over – Wild picking up dish duty before anyone else could seize the task – Warriors, Sky and Twilight set to work shifting furniture to make room for a haphazard nine-person blanket fort to be laid out on the living room floor. Amidst the bustle of construction and the inevitable pillow fight picked by either Wind, Legend or Four – hard to be certain who struck the inciting blow – Hyrule slipped out the front door. He took a seat beneath the eaves, back pressed against the wall, and stared out into the dark, rainy sky.

He wasn’t sure exactly how long he sat there, letting his mind drift. It came to him after a while that the thunder had stopped at least, though the dark clouds that remained seemed in no rush to depart. Reaching a hand out past the overhang, Hyrule felt the continued pressure of the downpour and scowled.

The door opened with a soft creak. ‘What are you doing, ’Rule?’ he heard someone ask. ‘You’ll catch a cold out here.’

Hyrule drew his legs in mulishly, ignoring the hand that was offered to him. ‘Leave me alone. I’m fine. Just getting some fresh air.’

There was a pause, followed by a soft sigh. ‘Alright, then,’ said Twilight. Hyrule started to relax, thinking that was that, before the other hero went ahead and sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

‘Talk to me, ’Rule,’ Twilight said firmly. ‘C’mon. You’re not the emotionally constipated cactus around here. No need to act like it.’

Hyrule let out a hiss of annoyance and a muttered curse. With irritating patience, Twilight merely waited him out, chafing gently and comfortingly at his shoulder.

‘I didn’t realise he was scared of thunder,’ Hyrule admitted quietly. ‘How did I even miss something that obvious?’ He shook his head disbelievingly. ‘I didn’t even realise he had arthritis until earlier today, and we’ve been travelling for what? Three months now? Two at least. Goddess, why am I so stupid?!’

‘You’re not stupid, ’Rule. It’s not as if Legend was volunteering that information.’

‘Not as if he was hiding it particularly well either,’ Hyrule snapped. ‘He’s a terrible liar! And there were so many clues! I could’ve picked up on all of this stuff ages ago!’

‘’Rule, that isn’t your fault,’ Twilight said insistently. ‘It’s not your job to read his mind, or anyone else’s. He made the decision not to tell you. No one –’

There was probably more to it than that, but Hyrule quickly lost track of whatever Twilight was saying. ‘Fucking hell,’ he cursed as realisation struck. ‘Why didn’t I realise it back then?!’

Twilight’s words cut off. He paused, then asked, ‘Back when?’

‘Why am I so stupid?! It was ages ago,’ Hyrule fumed. ‘You probably remember it. We were in Wars’s era, and I was fighting alongside Legend. It wasn’t supposed to be a difficult fight. Lots of monsters, but all of them weak. I was showing off a bit, trying to impress him ’cause I’m needy fucking moron…’ He took a hitching breath and Twilight tugged him just a little closer. ‘I cast my most powerful spell,’ he continued shakily. ‘Thunder. It takes a lot of energy but it does a lot of damage. I can either focus it on a single spot or on a wide area, and like I said: I was showing off. Stupidly, stupidly showing off. I thought I had control over it, thought I’d cast it properly, but when I looked over at Legend I saw him crouched on the ground, shaking, and I figured I must’ve hit him by accident. So I tried to make it over to help him, but before I could this bokoblin – of all things – it got him right in the lungs, barely missed his heart, and by the time I got to him he was unconscious, bleeding out, and if I’d been even a second later he would’ve died. Hero of Legend, who must’ve fought thousands of monsters already, brought low because of his stupid successor, and even after all that, I didn’t realise and I didn’t even think to ask –’

‘Hey… it’s ok, he’s fine now, it’s not your fault,’ Twilight said soothingly.

‘How was that not my fault?!’ yelled Hyrule, rage punctuated by the tears rolling down his cheeks. ‘You don’t get it, Twilight: he nearly died. He nearly fucking died, and it was because of my spell!’

For a moment, Twilight lapsed into contemplative silence, eventually offering, ‘You know, I actually think I remember this. Or part of it, at least.’

Hyrule shot him a glare. ‘Do you remember it or not?’

‘I didn’t see the actual fight,’ Twilight explained. ‘Sky had a concussion and I was keeping him company at the infirmary, doing a few chores and making myself useful while I was there. Like you said, it wasn’t supposed to be a difficult fight out that day – less a black blood sighting, more helping Wars’s Zelda out with pest control. So I missed what you described, but I do distinctly recall Legend running in covered in blood with you unconscious on his back, screaming that you needed immediate treatment for acute magic drain.’

Hyrule sniffled. ‘I don’t remember that.’

‘You were kind of unconscious for it.’ Twilight chuckled. ‘Never seen the vet lose his cool to quite that degree. Which is saying something considering his perpetual state of uncool.’

Hyrule scowled, brusquely wiping away his tears. ‘Fuck you; he’s the coolest out of all of us by far. You included. Me definitely included. You have any idea how many quests he’s been on? How many dungeons he’s faced? How many items he’s collected? How far he’s travelled? The fact that he’s repeatedly thwarted an enemy that the so-called “hero” that came before him couldn’t even beat once? He’s not called the Hero of Legend for nothing, you disrespectful ass.’

Twilight merely laughed, rudely ruffling Hyrule’s hair. ‘Well, I’ll admit; he’s a tenacious bastard,’ he went on. ‘Stuck by your side the whole time you were out. The nurses tried to evict him at least three times, but it turns out he’s actually rather good at evading capture. Up to and including merging with the walls anytime someone tried to grab him.’

Hyrule smirked. ‘They should’ve learned their lesson the first two times.’

Twilight rolled his eyes. ‘Or maybe he could’ve tried causing less of a ruckus? In the end it was Warriors who dragged him off, once you were awake. You remember that part?’

Hyrule’s smile slipped. ‘Oh. Yeah… I do.’

‘You’ll have to tell me then,’ Twilight informed him. ‘I wasn’t actually there. All I know is that as soon as you woke up, Legend started yelling at you – loud enough to rouse the whole building. As if he hadn’t been clinging to your bedside on bated breath the whole time, praying for that moment, barely eating or drinking, refusing to even sleep. You’d think he might be a bit more relieved to see you with your eyes open again. Isn’t that the time any normal person would go in for a hug?’

‘He umm… he did hug me…’ Hyrule said hesitantly. It was all slowly coming back to him. ‘He held me close, said to never ever scare him like that again, told me I’d been unconscious for almost two days, that I almost died…’

‘Well, you did, you know. Scared us all real good. Him included, obviously. But that doesn’t really explain why Legend ended up being banned from the infirmary.’

‘Oh.’ Hyrule considered. ‘Well, the yelling started later. Because at some point I had to explain why I ended up using so much magic that I passed out, and he umm… didn’t like that. Like I said, he’d been… kind of out of it when that part happened.’

Twilight winced. ‘Ah.’

‘Yeah. He…’ Hyrule’s gaze dropped to the floorboards. ‘He called me a fucking idiot. Asked what the hell I thought I was doing, why I would ever do something like that.’

‘Yeesh. What an arsehole.’

‘Told me…’ Hyrule’s eyes welled up once more. ‘Told me he wasn’t worth it. Th-that I need to think of m-myself instead. A-and…’

‘And?’

Hyrule sniffled. Plaintively, he concluded, ‘And th-that if I ever did something reckless like that ever again he’d k-kill me himself. A-and he kept yelling death threats while Wars dragged him out… d-damn, he’s s-so cool… can’t b-believe I get to time-travel with the H-Hero of Legend… best adventure ever…’

Twilight inhaled sharply. Twilight exhaled sharply. Having successfully collected himself to some degree, he announced blandly, ‘You two are disasters. Thought it was just Legend, but no: it’s both of you. Incredible.’

Hyrule snorted, wiping away his tears. ‘You’re just jealous ’cause my predecessor’s awesome.’

‘I’ve never been less jealous of anything in my life,’ Twilight informed him.

Hyrule shrugged dismissively. He supposed there was no accounting for poor taste.

The door chose that moment to creak open, revealing the very grumpy-looking veteran hero himself. ‘There you are. The fuck are you two doing out in the rain?’ Legend demanded sourly. ‘It’s freezing and you’re gonna get sick. Twi, you better not be bullying my successor again.’

‘Since when do I ever bully anyone?’ Twilight protested.

Ignoring the interjection, Hyrule cast a clinical eye over Legend’s sagging posture, trembling hands and bright red knees (because of course he still wasn’t wearing pants, or even hose or leggings, never mind the weather). ‘Lege, it’s freezing out here,’ he snapped. ‘Go the fuck back to the fire.’

‘You go the fuck back to the fire,’ Legend retorted absently. His gaze finally focused properly on Hyrule and his expression shifted into horror. ‘Wait – are you crying, Roolie?! Shit, what –’

‘I’m not crying; it’s just rainy out here,’ Hyrule snapped. ‘You go back inside right now or I swear –’

Twilight promptly hooked one arm under Hyrule’s knees and the other around Legend’s middle, easily hauling both of them past the threshold with his nonsensical natural strength. ‘Both of you,’ he suggested calmly, ‘go the fuck back to the fire.’

‘Umm… Legend?’

Seated next to the fire with a blanket around his shoulders, a mug of tea clasped in his hands and the warm presence of a friend at his side, Legend was far more comfortable than his body had any right to be during such a cold, rainy, stormy night. ‘What is it, Roolie?’ he asked sleepily.

Hyrule went quiet for a moment as if gathering his nerves. His voice was steady as he asked, ‘You’re scared of lightning, aren’t you?’

Despite everything, Legend still flinched. Instinct bit at him to deny it, to snap and snarl like a wounded animal. Instead, he sighed, placing his mug down on the woven coaster Twilight had provided. He supposed he could give an inch or two. Quietly, he admitted, ‘Yeah. A bit.’

Hyrule nodded slowly. ‘Anything else? Boats, maybe? Water? You seemed a bit off when we visited Wind’s era.’

Legend tugged restlessly at a loose thread on the blanket’s hem. ‘I can handle it.’

‘I know. That’s not what I asked.’

Legend did his best to stop unravelling Twilight’s nice, warm blanket. ‘Not a fan of sailing. Or swimming,’ he said curtly, ‘and that’s all you’re going to get from me tonight. Got it?’

‘Why?’ Hyrule asked belligerently.

‘Because I’m tired and vulnerable, because you’re emotionally charged, and because at least three people are eavesdropping on this conversation,’ he said irritably.

Legend followed Hyrule’s gaze as it turned towards the at least three people. Time and Twilight had the grace to look away, while Wind gave a cheerful thumbs up and rolled his hand vigorously in a gesture to continue. Legend flipped all three of them off.

‘Alright,’ Hyrule begrudgingly agreed.

Legend gave him a condescending pat on the head. ‘Good kid. See? Healthy boundaries. We’re learning all sorts of stuff today, aren’t we?’ Was that a bit much? That was probably a bit much. Well, that was future-Legend’s problem to deal with.

Uncomplaining, Hyrule merely nodded, laying his head on Legend’s shoulder. ‘Useful stuff too,’ he agreed after a short pause. ‘Thus why you’re the coolest hero of all.’

On second thought, this was absolutely present-Legend’s problem.

He half-heartedly shoved Hyrule away, face burning. ‘You’re full of shit.’

‘And you’re full of wonderful things that I love very much,’ Hyrule said sweetly.

A deathblow. Legend buried his head in his hands. ‘Someone stop this kid; he’s too powerful,’ he moaned. He lifted his gaze back towards the smug expression on Hyrule’s face. ‘C’mon, Roolie, you know better than that. I mean, think about it: if you’d been reincarnated a single slot sooner, you could’ve had the Hero of Time as your predecessor. Isn’t that way better than being stuck with me?’

‘The hero of what now?’ Hyrule said haughtily. ‘Never even heard of him.’

‘Ouch,’ Time muttered. Hyrule casually flipped him off and Legend cackled. Oops. Come to think of it, maybe Legend was a bit of a bad influence on his sweet, kind, gentle successor. Still, there was no way he could let this stand.

‘C’mon Roolie, there’s no way you haven’t heard of the Hero of Time,’ Legend prodded. ‘Child of the Lost Woods, born to one of the last bloodline Knights of Hyrule? Sworn Brother of the Gorons? Zora Princess Ruto’s fiancé?’

‘I never agreed to that engagement,’ Time informed him, flushing just slightly.

Legend grinned and continued, ‘Honorary member of the Gerudo Clan? C’mon ’Rule, if the guy that bested Twinrova didn’t make it into your history books then I’m gonna have to have words with your historians.’

‘You bested Twinrova,’ Hyrule deadpanned.

Legend scowled. ‘Yeah, fuckers just wouldn’t stay dead. Surprised you knew about… not important. Think about who bested them before me. Back when they were at the height of their power.’

Hyrule’s eyes widened. ‘Hold on. You couldn’t possibly be talking about –?’

‘See?! You do know him,’ Legend crowed. ‘So, all I’m saying is: just because I was the last known hero before you doesn’t mean my far cooler predecessor doesn’t deserve a bit of respect every now and then. Just a bit. Enough to keep him in line, you know.’

Time raised a brow. ‘Is that why you asked for my autograph that one time?’

Legend scowled. ‘It just says “To Link, from Link Link”. The hell am I supposed to do with that? Use your title, damn it!’

‘You ask for an autograph, you get an autograph,’ Time responded. ‘Same as the tax department. I’m a lawful citizen with a lawful identity.’

‘As if we haven’t both snuck past the Hyrule Castle guards at various points,’ Legend scoffed.

‘If there’s a law against that, I’m not aware of it. Maybe they should just train their guards better?’

‘I’ll say.’

‘Wait, but that doesn’t make sense,’ Twilight spoke up. ‘Time is my predecessor.’

‘Yeah, and he’s Wind’s too, or weren’t you paying attention?’ Legend said impatiently. ‘Bullshit nonsense shenanigans. That’s all they are.’

‘But Time is –’ Hyrule began hesitantly, cutting off as he looked between Legend and Legend’s predecessor.

‘Come to think of it,’ Time mused, ‘back when I first gave you my title, you threw a fit about how I was impersonating your hero. Wouldn’t explain why, just kept insisting I couldn’t possibly be him. What exactly changed?’

‘I –’ Legend’s mind stalled. ‘Uh… whoops? I might’ve… run my mouth a bit there.’

‘No, I’m not offended,’ Time assured him. ‘I’m only curious. After all, I can make a guess at how the timeline broke to create both Twilight’s era and Wind’s, but I don’t know how that third branch could have come about.’

‘W-well… it’s… uhh…’ Legend stammered. ‘Uhh. Parallel universe nonsense. Don’t think it’s anything you did, so don’t worry about it too much. Just a weird cosmic mix-up where you should’ve had two successors but ended up getting saddled with a spare. Blame Hylia. I always do.’ He picked up his mug, chugged the remaining contents and added, ‘Anyway, I’m beat. Gonna go to bed before I accidentally spout any other sentimental nonsense I’ll regret later.’

‘You can take my bed if you want?’ Twilight offered quickly. ‘It’s just up the ladder.’

‘Take your own bed, dumbass,’ Legend shot back. ‘Who even knows when we’ll be back here? Seize the day. Or the night, I guess. You get the point.’

‘Hey, the offer’s open,’ Twilight defended. ‘I was already planning to sleep down here, regardless. Besides, you and I are apparently timeline brothers or whatever, so my house is yours and all that.’

‘Timeline brothers? Where’d you get that?!’ Legend asked incredulously while he sought out a comfortable spot within the blanket fort. ‘Fuck that. I’m not being Roolie’s timeline dad. Time can be his timeline dad; I’ll be his infinitely cooler timeline uncle. You can be the embarrassing timeline cousin we don’t talk about.’

‘Uhh… uh huh?!’ Twilight sputtered through bursts of laughter. ‘That right, huh?’

‘Ooh, can I be the hilarious timeline wine aunt?’ Wind piped up.

Legend yawned. ‘Sad timeline goon aunt it is,’ he said agreeably.

Wind shrugged. ‘Close enough.’

Hyrule let out a sigh. ‘Legend,’ he said firmly, ‘please stop talking. For your own sake. You’re spouting sentimental nonsense that you’ll regret later.’

‘Nup, ’m good, not gonna regret nothin’,’ Legend said flippantly. Sure was cosy in that blanket fort. He yawned again. ‘No takebacksies; I said wh’t I said. Love ya, Roolie, ’n’ love the rest of y’ dumbasses too, ev’n th’ shitty timeline goon aunt.’ He grinned blearily. ‘Y’re a good kid, W’nd. Twi, y’re a li’l shit, bu’ y’r my li’l shit. An’one hurts y’ I’ll fuggem up.’

There were a few odd choking sounds and maybe a few semi-audible words that Legend proceeded to ignore. ‘’N’ ol’ man,’ he went on seriously, ‘y’ j’st keep gettin’ older, ok? Live f’r ten b’jillion million years ’n’ more. Y’re s’ cool.’ He sighed contentedly and concluded, ‘Nuh t’keb’cksies. G’night.’

And with all of that sorted, Legend rolled over and fell fast asleep.

‘Takebacksies. Absolute takebacksies,’ Legend muttered in a panicked frenzy early the next morning. ‘What the fuck?! I’m only nineteen; that’s way too young to be an uncle! Bad past-Legend! Bad! What were you even thinking?!’

‘Ngh?’ Hyrule murmured sleepily from his position beside Legend. ‘Whazzat?’

‘Nothing!’ Legend squeaked. ‘Go back to sleep!’

‘Mmkay,’ Hyrule breathed, closing his fluttering eyes once again. Out of respect for the deep bags under those eyes (how late had that poor kid stayed awake?), Legend did his best to calm his own frantic breathing and allow his successor (not nibling, definitely not) to enjoy the sleep he deserved.

Whoever was lying on the other side of Legend jabbed him between the shoulder blades and whispered, ‘You too, Uncle Lege. Go back to sleep.’

Legend stiffened. In the seconds that followed that quiet, violent utterance, he jotted down a quick mental reminder of an important task for future-Legend to undertake: at earliest opportunity, he noted, assassinate the Hero of Twilight.

Chapter Text

Twilight crouched gingerly over Legend’s motionless form, inspecting his relaxed face and even breathing. ‘Asleep,’ he confirmed quietly. ‘Did I hallucinate that, by the way?’

‘I don’t think so?’ Time offered hesitantly. ‘Unless we both hallucinated that.’

‘Damn. Should’ve let him know I was eavesdropping earlier,’ Warriors complained from slightly further away. ‘Now I’ll never get to join the timeline family tree.’

‘Does it really count as eavesdropping if we’re all just sitting together in the one big room?’ Wild chimed in philosophically, though he too looked a little disappointed. Or maybe just tired. Twilight watched as Wild’s head bobbed lower and lower, only for him to abruptly shake himself back to wakefulness.

‘Wild, why are you still up?’ he asked dryly. ‘Sky went to bed ages ago, and I know for a fact that he slept last night and you didn’t.’

Wild smiled guiltily. ‘Uh… it’s ok. I’m not that tired.’

‘Bullshit,’ commented Warriors.

‘…Maybe,’ Wild conceded. ‘But c’mon, you can’t just expect me to not eavesdrop on that kind of conversation! We’re talking ancient history here! Parallel universes! Princess Ruto’s legendary fiancé!’

‘Again: did not agree to that,’ Time cut in.

‘Oh… sorry. Got a bit carried away,’ Wild said sheepishly. ‘But, umm… if you’re from the bloodline of the Knights of Hyrule, I wonder if we could be related somehow? That’s my bloodline too. Or so I’ve been told.’

Time frowned. ‘Blood isn’t everything. Even if Malon and I do someday manage to have children of our own, it wouldn’t make sense to pass down a title belonging to a parent I never knew. I don’t know how Legend could even have learned such an obscure fact about me.’

‘You’re likely quite well-known within his era,’ Hyrule said stiffly, ‘especially since both he and I are also descended from the Knights of Hyrule. Your uncle would have been Legend’s ancestor. Wild could very well be related to all three of us, assuming he does indeed come from our timeline.’

‘Huh… I don’t really know about timelines, sorry,’ Wild said apologetically. ‘I think Z– Flora mentioned that I’m a long way in the future from any of you? We have plenty of legends, but a lot of history has been lost.’

‘It could be my timeline?’ Wind piped up. ‘You have Rito and Koroks in your era, after all. No one else does.’

‘Yeah, but he also doesn’t live in the middle of the ocean,’ Warriors pointed out.

Wild frowned. ‘I… I think there was an ocean at one point, maybe…? Something about a great flood, eons ago? I really need Flora for this sort of thing, sorry…’

‘We should stop talking so loud,’ Hyrule said abruptly. ‘I don’t want us to wake Legend.’

‘He seems pretty out of it,’ Warriors remarked. ‘That said, it’s probably time for bed anyway. Especially for you, Wild.’

‘I’m fine,’ Wild grumbled, but he quickly gave in to the combined brotherly bullying of Warriors, Twilight and Wind – the latter of which was clearly taking his new position of theorised predecessor very seriously if the five or so blankets he piled onto his theorised successor were any indication. Twilight snorted with amusement as he tucked himself in between Wild and Legend – the latter, a notoriously light sleeper, barely twitching throughout the affair. Poor kid, Twilight thought distantly.

He closed his eyes and was already about half way to sleep when his strong hearing picked up a mutter from near the hearth.

‘Aren’t you going to bed, ’Rule?’ Time inquired.

Curiosity and/or fraternal instincts piqued, Twilight strained his ears for Hyrule’s response: ‘Not yet. I want to stay here and read for just a bit longer. Don’t wait up for me.’

‘If there’s something on your mind you can tell me, you know,’ Time murmured back. ‘I’ll happily listen.’

A long stretch of silence followed, broken only by the crackle of the fire, the soft patter of rain and finally the rustle and thud of a book being placed down on the rug.

‘Legend is… important to me,’ Hyrule said slowly. ‘Both as a hero that I respect, and as a friend that I love dearly. As family even, whether we call him my brother, my uncle or whatever else.

‘Regardless of whether I deserve it or not, he’s always made it clear that he’s proud of me. I try to do the same for him, regardless of whether he thinks he deserves it or not.’ Bitterly, he added, ‘And he does deserve it, you know? Even if we set aside all the times he’s saved both Hyrule and its surrounding lands, he’s a hero on a smaller scale, too. He’s taught me so many things. He’s saved me so many times in so many ways. Even though he’s gone through so much more than I could ever even imagine, even though he’s probably exhausted from constantly fighting to survive, he doesn’t give up, and he doesn’t let me give up either. He’s still so good, so kind, so caring, and loving and clever and talented, and there’s so much to be proud of, and –’ he broke off. ‘And you’d have to be a pretty big moron not to see that. Either that, or you’d have to be Legend himself. He’s not stupid, so I just don’t understand how he could ever blame himself for – how he could ever look up to – or feel inferior to –’ Hyrule cut himself off again, and paused to take a few shaky breaths. ‘Sorry. I’m, umm… “emotionally charged” and all that. And people could be eavesdropping. And I don’t want to wake Legend. I just think that if you’re proud of him then you should say it. I think he needs to hear that.’

Twilight shifted uneasily where he lay, eyes slanting open to inspect the prone form at his side. Legend slept on, unbothered by either the weight of Twilight’s gaze or the sound of Hyrule advocating on his behalf.

Did Legend crave Time’s approval, Twilight wondered? He had an odd way of showing it, if so.

The whole group – even Hyrule – had played victim to Legend’s sharp tongue at one point or another, yet most of their group had also experienced his compassion, humour and fierce loyalty. He wasn’t shy to trade playful barbs with Warriors, to collude or compete with Wind on pranks, to nerd out with Four, to play music with Sky, to offer Twilight himself a comforting touch and a listening ear when he needed it most. The snarky veteran hero had even managed to worm his way – remarkably quickly – into their newest member’s heart, if Wild’s gentle teasing from earlier was any indication. Thinking it through, it seemed as if Time was the only one Legend had made no effort to grow close to.

Why was that?

‘I’ll talk to Legend,’ he heard Time promise. ‘I am proud of him, to the extent I have the right to be. I’ll make sure he knows that. And for what it’s worth: I’m proud of you too, Hyrule.’

Hyrule seemed to take a while to respond. ‘I appreciate it,’ he eventually landed on. ‘Goodnight, Time.’ Paper and wood rustled once again.

There was a quiet sigh. ‘Don’t stay up too late,’ Time murmured. Hyrule didn’t respond.

Twilight quickly closed his eyes and did his best to feign unconsciousness while his mentor ambled towards a free plot of campground and settled in for the night. It didn’t take long at all for Time’s quiet snoring to join with the comforting ambience of pattering rain, crackling firewood and the muted shuffling of old, crinkled paper as Hyrule continued to read. Even with his mind still churning over the evening’s discoveries, Twilight found himself lulled to sleep long before the pages of the herbology encyclopaedia ceased to turn.

The night passed uneventfully. The next morning, Time awoke, as he often did, to the scent of something on fire.

Reluctantly, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, levered himself upright and slowly meandered towards the sounds of cursing emanating from Twilight’s kitchen.

Thankfully, the fire in this case seemed to be relatively small and controlled, with its charcoal outputs already being scraped off a pan and onto a plate. Time’s approach went unnoticed amid the quiet argument between the two standing near the stove.

‘Those can be your eggs, farm boy, and let that be a lesson to not distract me while I’m cooking,’ Legend snapped mulishly.

‘Aww, c’mon: would you really do that to your second-favourite timeline nephew?’ Twilight replied innocently.

‘What’s that you say? Needs more salt? Done and done.’ Time watched as Legend unscrewed the cap on the salt shaker and dumped most of its contents upon the blackened eggs.

He sighed. ‘Isn’t it a bit early for this?’

Both of them jumped guiltily to face their predecessor. ‘Hi there!’ squeaked Legend. ‘Good morning!’

‘Uhh… sorry if we woke you,’ Twilight said sheepishly.

Time glanced around the room and ran a quick headcount. Predictably, Sky was still sleeping, as were Hyrule and Wild. ‘Where are Warriors, Wind and Four?’ he asked.

‘Down at the spring,’ Twilight replied. ‘We passed it on our way in, remember? They’re taking the opportunity to freshen up.’

‘Not a bad idea,’ Time allowed. He glanced over to the window, noting the sunlight streaming in, then let his eyes fall to the counter, piled high with eggs, milk, butter, jars of jam and honey, a large ham, a basket of mushrooms and leafy vegetables, two entire pumpkins and several loaves of fresh bread. ‘So, what’s all this?’

‘Groceries?’ Twilight said confusedly.

‘Yes, but when and where did you get them?’

Twilight’s expression cleared. ‘Oh. I went for a quick walk earlier this morning. Let the villagers know I’m here and picked up some stuff. Which Legend promptly decided to burn.’

‘Fuck you,’ Legend shot back. He glanced guiltily over his shoulder and lowered his voice as he added, ‘Figured our regular chef could do with a little bit of extra rest.’

‘I figure you could too,’ Time pointed out with a slight frown. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Peachy. Don’t even know what you’re talking about,’ Legend deadpanned as he turned back to the stove. ‘So do you want your eggs sunny-side up, medium-rare or well-done?’

Time sighed, mildly nostalgic for the good old days of sleepy, unguarded, affectionate Legend. ‘Sunny-side up would be lovely. And if you do need to rest for today, please be honest about it. We’re not in any rush, at least for the moment. Take things easy while you can.’

‘Charred to a crisp it is,’ Legend replied, but despite his words the veteran hero seemed to take an inordinate amount of care as he cracked two eggs into the pan and settled in to watch like a hawk, periodically giving each a dubious poke with his spatula.

‘You’ve been up for a while, then?’ Time asked Twilight. ‘You could’ve woken me. I know it’s your world and all, but that doesn’t mean wandering off alone is a good idea.’

‘Don’t worry; I let Warriors know before I left,’ Twilight offered. ‘And the village really isn’t far from here at all.’

‘Still…’ Time trailed off. ‘Take care, alright?’

‘Shit, I forgot about the toast,’ Legend suddenly hissed distractedly.

Sensing the potential for disaster, Time covered Twilight’s mouth before he could interrupt Legend’s hectic dance through the most anxiety-inducing form of multitasking Time had ever seen outside of battle. Somehow, at the end of it, the eggs weren’t burnt, the toast had minimal char, the mushrooms and spinach were only mildly undercooked and the ham was perfect. Legend gave a triumphant smile as he handed Time his breakfast and a cup of tea.

Time returned the smile with one of his own. ‘Thanks Legend. It looks great.’

Watching closely, Time caught the slight jolt and wide-eyed gaze Legend shot his way before turning back to the stove. ‘Yeah, yeah. Eat up, already,’ he said gruffly.

Even without seeing his face, Time noticed Legend’s ears had turned slightly pink – was he actually blushing from such a small compliment?

‘Yeah. Great work, vet. Now do mine,’ Twilight suggested cheekily. Legend promptly dropped a slice of blackened toast on top of the salty, charred eggs he’d prepared earlier and shoved the plate at Twilight without looking up. ‘Wow. Rude,’ Twilight remarked. Legend flipped the bird with his free hand, continuing to shuffle sizzling cuts of ham around with the other. ‘You know, vet,’ Twilight continued, ‘it might be easier for you to cook this stuff in batches. I did give you a bunch of serving platters earlier, remember? So, like, make a bunch of mushrooms, then make a bunch of toast, then –’

‘Can’t talk. Cooking,’ Legend said tersely as continued to juggle four different pans of individual servings. Twilight chuckled, but left him to it.

As the lazy morning continued, Wind, Warriors and Four all returned looking cheerful and clean, Hyrule sleepily stumbled over, making the beginnings of an offer to help with the cooking before being hastily diverted by Twilight and Time, and even Sky eventually woke and joined them for breakfast, leaving Wild as the only one still asleep.

‘So, I’m pretty sure my family are going to jump me as soon as we get to the village,’ Twilight said casually. ‘Kind of surprising no one’s come by yet, to be honest, but maybe Sera just hasn’t had the chance to pass on the news. Nonetheless, if there are any useful rumours for us to follow up on, my dad should be able to tell us. No need to do the usual ask around: word spreads pretty quickly in these parts. So, the rest of you can either come with me, stay here, or explore the village. Pending any quest-related weirdness, this area should be pretty safe so long as no one wanders off and gets lost in the woods. So, who wants to do what?’

There was a brief pause as they all glanced at each other.

‘I’d like to meet your family, but it’d probably also be a good idea for me to get the repair work done while we’re here,’ Four replied. ‘Any chance there’s a forge I can get access to?’

‘You’re in luck: my dad’s a blacksmith,’ Twilight replied cheerily. ‘Made my own sword, even.’

‘What?! You never told me that!’ Four complained. ‘You’ll definitely have to introduce us, then.’

‘I’d love to meet your family,’ Sky said warmly. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, that is?’

Twilight’s grin widened. ‘Of course I don’t mind! I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re all going to end up with an invite to dinner anyway, but you want to meet them sooner than that, then you’re very welcome to come with me and help field all the boring questions about where I’ve been.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world!’ Wind chimed in.

‘Or for the blackmail material,’ Time mused.

‘That too,’ Wind agreed. ‘So, presumably you’re coming too?’

‘Obviously.’

‘Yeah, obviously,’ Warriors concurred.

‘We may as well all go,’ Legend remarked. ‘The sooner we get the reconnaissance over and done with, the sooner we can all go and stab something black-blooded.’

Twilight rolled his eyes. ‘Charming, vet. As always.’

‘Actually,’ Hyrule chimed in suddenly, ‘I might stay behind with Wild, unless you really need me there. Sounds like you have things sorted, and I’m not exactly the best with big groups of people.’

Warriors threw a dubious glance over to where Wild remained asleep. ‘You don’t think we should wake him first?’

‘If he’s managed to sleep through all of this, then he must be pretty tired,’ Hyrule argued. ‘Besides, if the village is as close as you say, it’s not as if we can’t catch up later.’

Legend nodded. ‘Alright. Then I’ll also –’

‘No, you should go with the others,’ Hyrule interrupted.

‘Huh?’ said Legend, caught flatfooted.

‘To help gather information,’ Hyrule clarified. ‘You have the experience, after all. You always know what sort of questions to ask so that we go in as prepared as possible. It doesn’t make sense for you to stay behind.’

Legend frowned. ‘I don’t think I’m all that…? I mean, if you’re sure you don’t want… will you and Wild be ok on your own?’

‘Wild and I will be great on our own,’ Hyrule reassured him.

‘…Guess we’ll see you later, then,’ a slightly forlorn Legend agreed.

Time glanced between the two uncertainly, before turning back to Twilight. ‘Shall we?’

‘Sure,’ he replied. ‘Follow me.’

The door closed. Hyrule counted to ten and then swiftly scaled the three ladders that led to the window at the top of Twilight’s house. Pressing his face close to the glass, he waited as patiently as he could for the seven figures to disappear, and then scurried back down and over to Wild’s prone form.

He gently shook Wild’s shoulder, leaning back to avoid any instinctive “stab first, ask questions later” reactions (Hyrule could relate). On this particular occasion, whether due to simple exhaustion or to the sense of safety that Twilight’s comfortable home offered, Wild merely opened his eyes with a bleary, ‘Huhwhat?’

‘Good news! We’re unsupervised,’ Hyrule announced. ‘Wanna go on an adventure?’

Wild sat bolt upright. ‘Hell yes I do,’ he replied without hesitation.

Upon their arrival into the pleasant pastoral commune that was Twilight’s hometown, the resident hero had been swarmed by no less than five children, fifteen adults, four monkeys, three cats, two hawks, one cucco and one rampaging goat. And counting. It was truly heart-warming to see how well-loved Twilight truly was, though it was slightly less heart-warming when, midway through a pleasant conversation with Twilight’s father, Time was pulled away by the man of the hour himself, grinning in a way that Time knew to mean trouble.

‘Meet Fado,’ Twilight began innocently, gesturing to the man beside him. ‘He owns the ranch I used to work at.’

Time’s thoughts strayed briefly to a Kokiri of the same name, and he hid a frown. ‘Pleasure to meet you,’ he said politely. For some reason, he noticed, Twilight had his other arm wrapped firmly around Legend’s shoulders, the latter squirming irritably in the former’s hold.

Solemnly, Twilight continued, ‘One of my old friends has been helping Fado out lately, but she’s a bit new to the work and Fado mentioned they’ve been falling behind on the chores. So, I said I’d be happy to help out with it, but –’

‘Don’t you think we’re a little bit busy, Twi?’ Legend interjected petulantly.

‘–But thankfully, Legend was kind enough to volunteer instead!’ Twilight said brightly.

‘I didn’t volunteer for anything, you –’ Legend began to sputter before Twilight leaned in and whispered something. Legend’s face went cherry red and his voice died out.

Turning back to Time, Twilight added cheerily, ‘And as a dairy farmer yourself, I figured you might like to keep him company.’

‘Umm,’ said Time.

‘Great! Then Fado can tell you the rest,’ Twilight agreed. ‘Make sure to drop by my parents’ house later to grab some lunch. Have fun!’

And thus, not entirely sure how it had happened, Time found himself standing alongside Legend at the front of a filthy barn, equipped with dusty oversized work boots and a shovel apiece as well as a wobbly, decrepit two-wheeled cart to share.

‘Sure is nice to have some extra help around here,’ Fado said cheerfully. ‘Hasn’t been the same since my best worker quit, y’know? Not that I’m holdin’ any kind o’ grudge against the people that keep dragging him off on adventures or nothin’ o’ course, but hey! Pair o’ strong boys like you ought to have this barn clean in no time. Now, you remember where the compost heap is, right?’

‘…Indeed,’ Time said reluctantly.

‘Great! Then I’ll leave you both to it,’ Fado advised, clapping each of them on the shoulders and promptly walking away, presumably to enjoy a peaceful and relaxing day spent not shovelling however many weeks or months’ worth of goat excrement out of his barn.

Legend and Time looked at each other.

‘Do you ever feel like you’re being taken advantage of, maybe by the very people you’re supposed to be able to trust most?’ Time queried.

‘Yeah. Kinda reminds me of when we all visited your own ranch,’ Legend confirmed, ‘which also coincidentally had a barn in urgent need of a deep clean.’

‘Ah. Fond memories,’ Time sighed. ‘By the way: is your body actually up for this right now?’

Legend scowled. ‘Shut it about that already. We’ve got enough shit to shovel without you adding to the pile.’ Emphasising his point, he swiftly dug into the mass of filthy straw.

Time shrugged and applied his own shovel to the work. ‘Foul language aside: not a bad pun, really.’

‘That wasn’t a pun, it was a statement of fact. This place is even grosser than your farm, old man, and I don’t say that lightly.’

‘No way. Mine was definitely worse. Goat poop has nothing on cow poop.’

‘Then why the cows?’

‘Well, first off, they’re Malon’s cows so you’d have to ask her, or my father-in-law. Secondly, there are pros and cons to each type of livestock, but the main difference is that while goats are smaller and easier to handle, cows produce far more –’

‘C’mon. Farm boy’s not even here; you can go right ahead and call them weak and pathetic off-brand imitation bovines if you like,’ Legend offered. He scowled as he gently and ineffectively rebuffed the affections of one such off-brand imitation bovine. ‘Fuckers keep trying to lick me,’ he complained.

Time looked at the goat that was attempting to lick Legend. Time looked over to the neglected salt block near the entrance of the barn. Time looked at Legend. ‘That’s odd,’ he remarked aloud.

‘Urgh. Get out already! Shoo!’ Legend snapped. Taking pity, Time carefully picked up the goat and carried it out of the barn, ignoring Legend’s irritated murmurings about “stupid nonsense strength”.

‘So, I’m guessing this was Twilight’s idea of a bonding activity,’ he ventured as he retrieved his shovel and got back to work. ‘Is that what he whispered to you earlier?’

Legend flushed again. ‘Uhh… yeah. Something like that.’

‘Something like “I’ve hogged our timeline dad for long enough; today’s your turn”?’

Legend looked at him incredulously. ‘How did you –? Urgh. You two think way too much alike.’ With unnecessary force, he lifted another shovelful of dirty straw into the wagon. ‘Look, just… don’t think too deeply about the nonsense I spout when I’m half asleep, ok? Technically you – or a version of you at least – were my predecessor, but that doesn’t mean you have to think of me as a successor. You and Twilight can have that. Or even you and Twilight and Wind. I’m from the shitty timeline that wasn’t supposed to exist, and I’m the shitty successor that wasn’t supposed to exist. Parallel universe nonsense. Don’t think too hard about it.’

Time frowned. ‘Well, now I’m thinking hard about it. Legend… do you actually think I’m ashamed of you?’ A subtle flinch answered his question readily enough, but he pressed on, ‘Because that’s nonsense. I don’t know that I have the right to be proud of you, but I am. Very much so. I don’t know what sort of “parallel universe nonsense” led to the creation of your timeline, but if it means we get to travel together, then I’m glad for it.’

Legend snorted. ‘Wow. Uh… no, you’re not. You’re really not. Sheesh. Did I really look that pathetic last night? Thanks, I guess, but seriously: just forget about it. I’ll do better from now on.’

‘Legend, you’re not listening,’ Time snapped. ‘Why can’t you believe me?’

Legend went quiet for a moment, leaning against the wooden stall. ‘I… Look, old man. I know I haven’t exactly made much of an effort to show you my non-existent “good side”, but believe it or not, I actually have an even worse side. So, it’s all very well for you to say you’re proud of me now, without actually knowing –’

‘Tell me, then,’ Time challenged. ‘How about you tell me whatever you think I’ll be ashamed of and let me make my own decision about how I feel?’

Legend sighed. ‘Alright, old man,’ he said eventually, ‘I’ll cut you a deal.’

Time surveyed him curiously. ‘A deal?’

‘If I tell you what’s on my mind, then you tell me what’s on yours. No, in fact, I’ll make it even easier on you: if we get to the end of my story and you still think I’m something more than the biggest piece of shit in this literal and figurative shithouse, then I want you to at least consider talking to me about whatever’s been on your mind the past few days.’

Time frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Don’t play dumb. You’ve been acting real weird,’ Legend told him. ‘The bumpkin noticed it too. Asked him about it this morning. He figured it had something to do with Wind and some sort of dramatic private conversation you two had, but the kid’s refusing to explain if so. Says we should take our questions straight to the source.’

Time groaned inwardly.

A few days ago, he’d carelessly, carelessly left his belongings within reach of a certain curious young hero, who had inevitably reached straight for his most dangerous of said belongings, and, inevitably, placed an outrageous condition on its return:

Talk to one of the other heroes about the Fierce Deity Mask. Have them ask Wind to relinquish it. Figure out how to answer any questions that might come up through this process, either about the mask itself or about the matching markings that adorned Time’s own face. Trust that nothing would go wrong with this process and that everyone would conveniently forget about the cursed thing once it was returned to its rightful owner.

Urgh.

‘Hmm? I smell something spicy,’ commented Legend. ‘Do we have ourselves a deal, then?’

If he had to discuss that mask with anyone, Legend was probably a good choice, Time conceded, considering the veteran hero’s level of knowledge regarding magic items and curses. But was it really alright to lean on his young successor like that? Legend really wasn’t all that much older than Wind, and even without knowing the details of his so-called “worse side”, Time knew the teen had no shortage of his own burdens to deal with. Who was Time to add to that weight?

‘I’ll… consider it,’ he said grudgingly.

Surprisingly, Legend accepted the non-answer. ‘Alright. Then buckle up,’ he said. ‘I should probably start by explaining the whole parallel universe thing, huh?’

Legend kept his eyes on the floor and his shovel as he spoke. It was easier than looking Time in the eye.

‘Your era is about a century before mine,’ he began. ‘Sooner than most of the others, I think. So you’re more of a historical hero than a legendary one in my case, though of course history always depends at least a bit on who’s writing it.

‘The story begins with a coup on Hyrule Castle. A Gerudo thief named Ganondorf murdered the king and forced his way into the Temple of Time, and through it to the Sacred Realm where the Triforce slept. Because his heart was out of balance, the Triforce then fractured into three pieces: Power, Wisdom and Courage. The Triforce of Power remained within Ganondorf’s grasp, while the other two shards reappeared on the hands of Princess Zelda and the young Hero of Time.

‘In order to stop Ganondorf, the Hero took the Master Sword in hand. Because he was only a child and too small to wield it, the sword instead sealed him away for seven years, allowing Ganondorf’s power to grow even further during that time. Once free, aided by the disguised Princess Zelda, the Hero sought out and awakened the six sages before finally marching on Hyrule Castle.

‘The Hero of Time – the one from my world, that is – fought long and hard, but was… eventually defeated. Ganondorf seized the remaining fragments of the Triforce, transforming himself into the demonic beast we now know as Ganon. With the last of his strength, the Hero bought enough time for the Princess to summon the six sages to her side. Together, they sealed both Ganon and the Triforce away in the corrupted Sacred Realm.’

Legend shifted restlessly on his feet. ‘It wasn’t exactly a perfect seal,’ he continued. ‘Over the course of several years, the sages, the royal family and the Knights of Hyrule all worked to close the remaining entrances to the Dark World and to quell the monsters that spilled forth, and by the time I was born – about eighty-something years later? – things had finally returned to a peaceful state. To the extent that until it happened, no one was really expecting Ganon’s return. And to a dumb twelve-year-old kid like me, you were just… a really cool story.

‘I mean, you got a whole royal burial and everything!’ he added sheepishly, almost meeting Time’s gaze before thinking better of it. ‘Not to mention a fancy monument, right next to King’s Tomb. And, uh, maybe you don’t necessarily care about bloodlines and all that, but I thought it was kind of… cool to be related to a hero. Even stole your name, you know, and I kept bothering my uncle to teach me swordsmanship when I was younger because of you. He wasn’t really so keen on the idea. Didn’t want me caught up in anything dangerous. Wanted to keep me safe. But, uh… well, you know how that worked out.

‘So, y’know… I was pretty young and stupid and scared… though not quite as young as you, I guess. Wasn’t sure what to expect when I drew the Master Sword, considering the stories and all, but… nothing like that actually happened in the end. Hah. Bit of a relief, bit of a let-down in a way.

‘I wasn’t really expecting to get as far as I did. Things were kind of bad for a while. Fighting monsters, getting chased by possessed knights… even basic stuff like sorting out food and shelter, because I couldn’t risk going home… suffice to say there was a price on my head for a while. Couldn’t even trust the villagers I’d known my whole life… well, most of them were ok, but enough of them weren’t.

‘So, yeah. I looked up to you. I thought that if you could do it, then maybe I could as well. And that even if I couldn’t, so long as I tried my best then maybe you’d at least be a little proud of me. I kept going, I tried my best, and eventually I made it all the way to Ganon.

‘I, uh… really wasn’t expecting to survive at that point. Heh. I mean, if the Hero of Time himself couldn’t do it, what chance did I have? I prepared as much as I could, mind you. Packed all sorts of items, potions, even magical arrows blessed by a Great Fairy. I figured I’d give it my all, and then even if I died it’d be a good death. Noble, even. That’s what I told myself at least, to try and hide the fact that I was shit scared the entire time. I didn’t actually want to die, you know? Kept on playing the hero as best I could, but part of me was always waiting and hoping for a real hero to fly in and save me.

‘And then I actually beat him, if you can believe it?’ Legend chucked. ‘Won back the Triforce even, and made a wish to reverse all the damage Ganon’s return had caused.’ He sniffled slightly. ‘A selfish wish, really, knowing what I know now… coulda even stopped Ganon forever back then, maybe, then Roolie wouldn’t have… anyway. Lucky for me, the Triforce doesn’t actually care about right and wrong. I got my uncle back, at least. The monsters went away – most of them. ’Nd I went home and tried to forget about everything.

‘Turned out the gods weren’t done with me yet. Wasn’t my last quest – wasn’t even my last time fighting Ganon. It’s just been adventure after adventure since then. I don’t hate it, I guess, and it’s not like I have much in the way of other skills. Didn’t exactly finish school, or my apprenticeship. And it’s pretty fun, most days, getting to go and explore the world, getting to meet new people, even just the feeling of doing something good, something that might actually mean something for someone…’

He sighed. ‘But then we ended up on this quest, and I got to meet both you and Hyrule.’ He shrugged half-heartedly. ‘Nothing against either of you, obviously not, just kind of… made me feel small. Made me realise what a stupidly inflated ego I’d had that whole time.

‘I look at Hyrule’s era and realise that nothing I did ever made a difference in the long run. I look at your era, and… and I feel like a fool. You didn’t die a martyr. You didn’t lose to Ganon at all. You’re living happily with your lovely wife, raising cows and cuccos and sometimes getting sent on intertemporal adventures with a bunch of other selfless, courageous, determined heroes, plus that one shitty guy from a parallel universe who got pulled along for the ride.’ He grimaced. ‘I went right ahead and assumed all sorts of things about the Hero of Time from my own era, but if you’re any indication then I doubt he spent his quest running around like a scared little rabbit. I doubt he went into that fight expecting to lose, or to die. And he was even younger than me! Mentally, at least.

‘So, yeah. Like I said: you really don’t have to bother seeing me as a successor or anything. The guy that died technically wasn’t even you, was he?’ Legend shrugged. ‘Anyway. Story over. We should probably go empty out that shitty little shit wagon before it collapses under its own weight.’

Time startled as Legend abruptly strode over and grabbed the splintering handles of the least structurally-sound garden cart he had ever seen. ‘Let me,’ Time said quickly.

Legend scowled. ‘It’s fine, old man. I’m stronger than I look.’ Well, more to the point: he was wearing power bracelets. Same thing, really. He could pull a damn wagon, at least. Even if it was stupidly heavy and ridiculously wobbly and had a damaged wheel and was an even bigger piece of shit than its smelly contents.

Time followed him to the compost heap, helped him unload the wagon and then seized hold before Legend could even think to start pulling it back. He remained silent throughout the return trip, only speaking up as he set the rickety cart down once again at the centre of the barn.

‘It was me, I think,’ Time said abruptly.

Legend looked over. ‘Huh?’

‘The Hero of Time from your era. I’m pretty sure it was me,’ Time explained, brow furrowed.

‘How?’ Legend couldn’t help but ask.

Time chewed over his thoughts for a moment. ‘It was a long way up to the top of Hyrule Castle,’ he began. ‘I think Ganondorf must have planned it that way. By the time I got there, I was already tired and wounded from fighting his minions. I pushed forward regardless, and I entered the room where he and Zelda waited for me.

‘There was a moment when my eyes met Zelda’s. Something seemed to pass between us then: a flash of memory too swift for me to make sense of. My wounds disappeared. I felt revitalised. And Zelda looked shocked. Horrified. Even though Ganondorf didn’t seem to react at all. And when we fought…’ Time halted. ‘It was as if I knew exactly where to step, exactly where to strike. Like everything was somehow rehearsed in advance. Dear Malon, I should’ve known…’

‘Huh,’ said Legend. ‘Yeah. Guess that makes sense.’ Mindlessly, he picked up his shovel once again. ‘You went back in time again after that too, didn’t you? That’s how we get both Wind and Twilight.’

‘Zelda sent me back,’ Time said tightly. ‘She must have done it that first time too, even if I didn’t realise it back then. I have the memories from that moment too… I thought they were just nightmares, but… Legend. I’m so sorry.’

Startled, Legend spun to face him. ‘What?! No, why would you be –?’

The shovel slipped from his fingers as Time pulled him into a tight embrace. For a moment, Legend simply stood there, stock still and befuddled by the entire situation. Slowly he brought his arms in to comfort his shaking predecessor as best he could. ‘H-hey… it’s ok, old man. You’re ok, I’m ok. Ganon’s long gone for you, right…? It’s gonna be ok. Shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to –’

Strong arms tightened around him. ‘Don’t apologise,’ Time growled.

‘Uhh… alright, then?’ Legend agreed feebly, mentally kicking himself a few extra times for good measure. He was not good at the whole comforting people thing, so why did he always end up in this situation?!

When Time finally pulled away, Legend pasted on the best blank smile he had. From the way Time’s face fell in response, it probably wasn’t particularly convincing.

‘I’m proud of you,’ Time said softly. ‘I have no right to be, but I am.’

Legend blinked. ‘But –’

‘No buts,’ Time interrupted. ‘Legend, how could I not be proud? Whether it’s who you are or what you’ve accomplished. Both of those things are incredible. You haven’t told me anything that would disprove the former, and all I’ve learned about the latter is that the guy who killed me gained the power of the gods, used it to transform into a giant monster and then got beaten into the ground by the world’s most badass twelve-year-old.’

Legend snorted, averting his eyes. ‘Yeah, well you should’ve seen the ten-year-old who kicked his arse a parallel century earlier. Imagine refusing to die so hard that you accidentally create two new timelines where it never even happened. Forget about me; that guy’s a real badass.’

‘Do I need to sic Hyrule on you?’ Time demanded. ‘One or both of us is going to have to convince you that you’re worthy. We can bring Sky into it too, if you like.’

‘Oh, please, not the sap,’ Legend groused. ‘And not Hyrule either; he’s biased.’

‘In what sense?’

‘In the sense that he’s a fucking angel who sees gold nuggets in every steaming pile of human manure,’ Legend said flatly. ‘Probably would’ve befriended Ganon himself if given half a chance. Look, just… I didn’t tell you this stuff because I wanted you to pity me or blame yourself or anything. If anything, I’m grateful.’

‘Grateful?!’

‘Yeah. You’re…’ he flushed. ‘Urgh. Sappy shit is hard. But you’re kind of a miracle to me, you know? You’re proof that all this doesn’t have to end badly – I mean, not implying any kind of past tense end, just y’know –’ Legend did his best to unscramble his thoughts. ‘I like adventuring. I like helping people. But part of me always felt like I’m living on borrowed time, like there’s a lucky streak keeping me going now, but how long is it really going to last? Shit, I’m nineteen years old and my own body thinks I’m due for retirement some days, even if the gods sure don’t. But, I mean, if someone like you can go and get married and have a farm and raise cows and shit – uhh, I mean the cow raising part kinda sucks, not gonna lie, I’d rather just stick to orchards and apiaries, and technically I’m already married, but –’

‘Wait, what?’ said Time.

Shit.

‘Uhh… you didn’t hear that last bit, right?’ Legend tried.

‘Pretty sure I did,’ Time confirmed. ‘Who’s the lucky spouse?’

‘No one! I mean, technically someone, but it was for citizenship purposes, that’s all, that’s it!’ Legend clarified rapidly. ‘He needed a citizenship so I married him, it was faster and simpler than any other method, just needed the one form, a-and I guess we’ll need another one for the divorce at some point – whenever he gets sick of me and moves out, I mean – but the point is, it didn’t mean anything, I don’t think he’s even into guys, it’s just that sometimes archaic forms of legal discrimination against single people and non-amatonormative relationships are actually quite useful, legally speaking, and I’m not even the one who suggested it, I just –’

With a shit-eating grin that promised nothing but trouble, Time opened his mouth to speak. By complete and utter coincidence, and certainly not due to any sudden panicked movements on Legend’s part, the wagon chose that moment to fall on its side, releasing its contents onto Time’s already filthy work boots.

Time looked down at the fallen wagon. Time looked up at the furiously blushing Legend.

‘Smooth,’ he deadpanned. ‘Real smooth.’

‘You know,’ Time said thoughtfully. ‘If we were to write something on the floor of this barn and then cover it up with fresh straw, it’d probably take a really, really long time for Twilight to find out about it.’

‘Probably, yeah,’ Legend agreed, offering up a stick of charcoal.

‘Might need something a bit more permanent,’ Time declined, pulling out a pot of waterproof ink instead. Legend didn’t ask why he was carrying a convenient pot of waterproof ink in his pocket. He merely nodded approvingly at the message Time left and knelt down to write one of his own. Perhaps they had more in common than Time had realised.

Together they scattered clean straw over the scene of the crime, completing their wearying task at last. ‘Well,’ said Time as he dusted off his clothes, ‘shall we?’

‘Hold on. Just one thing first,’ Legend said abruptly. He hesitated, then added, ‘We, uh… never talked about your thing. Whatever happened with Wind, that is.’

Time’s stomach turned. Stricken, he stared at Legend as he did his best to come up with some sort of excuse, some reason as to why, after all the honesty Legend had offered, he simply couldn’t discuss this, some way of explaining that it wasn’t about worthiness or trust, but –

‘Yeah, you’re not gonna tell me, huh?’ Legend sighed. ‘Figured I missed my chance.’

Time deflated. ‘Legend…’

‘Just tell me this, alright?’ he pressed. ‘If I let this drop for now, are you or Wind going to be in any immediate danger?’

Time hesitated. ‘Not immediate, no,’ he equivocated. So long as Wind kept his promise, it was true after all.

Legend’s expression tightened. ‘And are you actually going to talk to anyone about this?’ he demanded. ‘Or are you just going to wait for that non-immediate danger to non-immediately eventuate?’

Time flinched. ‘I’ll talk to someone about it soon. Promise.’

‘Damn right you will,’ Legend informed him. ‘And in the meantime, I’ve got something for you. Heads up: I’ll be really offended if you refuse this one. Hands out.’

Bemused, Time caved to Legend’s bossiness and held out his hands. The veteran adventurer dropped a pale, softly glowing pendant into his hold. ‘Put it on,’ he instructed. ‘Keep it close. Don’t take it off, even when you sleep.’

Time inspected the stone. Some strange form of energy hummed within, but he wasn’t able to identify it. ‘What is it?’

‘My moon pearl. The only one I have, too, so don’t lose it,’ Legend replied. ‘It’s a powerful protective charm which shields the bearer from dark magic, including curses. Including Ganon’s magic. Guess what I was wearing back when I fought him that first time?’

Time’s eye widened. ‘Legend, no! I can’t take this; what if you need it?!’

‘Sheesh. Not like I don’t have any other tools to help me protect myself,’ he replied irritably. ‘I forget I even have it, most days. Call it a keepsake, if you will. Just a way of remembering who’s watching your back, at least while we’re all stuck on this quest together, and at least until you get your shit together with whatever big secret you’re hiding. If it bothers you so much, then you can give it back to me after that.

‘Here’s the deal, old man: I’m gonna protect you one way or another. Either you accept that old necklace now and I let you stall for a bit, or else I get real nasty and stage an intervention with me and seven other heroes all ganging up on you. Think I’m bluffing? Try me.’

Time looked numbly at the charm in his hand, then at the very earnest nineteen year old scowling at him.

He wondered what exactly he’d done to deserve the indignity of having not one but two successors a fraction of his age decide to act as his shields.

‘Malon save me from these overprotective brats,’ he muttered as he slipped the pendant’s chain around his neck.

Legend grinned like the smug bastard he was. ‘Bold of you to assume she’ll take your side, old man.’

Oh no, Time thought dismally, I think we just adopted him.

Chapter Text

‘Who’s a good kitty? Who’s a good widdle kitty?!’

‘Mrow.’

‘Damn wight you are. A smart widdle kitty too! Does my smart widdle kitty wanna go fishing? Wanna see if we can catch a widdle fishy-fish to fuel that smart widdle kitty bwain?’

‘Mroowww!’

‘Alwight then, my pwecious widdle micwo-panther, let’s go find ouwselves a fishy-fish!’

Cooing all the while, thoroughly ignoring the various bemused friends and family watching on from afar, Twilight stalked off towards the river with fishing rod in hand and a trilling calico trip-hazard between his ankles.

‘Huh,’ said Warriors. ‘Is it just me, or did his entire personality just change?’

Twilight’s mother, Uli, looked up from the shirt she was mending. ‘Hmm? Oh, yes. Well, Link has always been a real cat person…’

‘Not a dog person, then?’ Wind asked innocently. ‘Or, you know, a canine person in general?’

‘Well, he is rather fond of most animals,’ Uli remarked idly. ‘In fact, when he was younger…’

Ah, yes, Warriors noted as he, Wind and Sky leaned in to listen: blackmail material.

And quality material it was. He may have stayed and listened for longer if the local blacksmith’s return hadn’t reminded him of a more pressing task. Regretfully, he rose from his seat, gazing back towards the blocky stone structure behind Twilight’s parents’ house. ‘I’m gonna go check in on Four,’ he explained. ‘He was acting a bit off earlier.’

‘Portal sickness?’ Sky asked, face creasing in concern.

‘Probably,’ Warriors agreed half-heartedly. He dearly hoped that was all it was.

Wind levelled a quick, shrewd glance his way, followed by a casual “sure, see you later then” before turning his attention back to Uli. ‘So, what happened with the pig after that?’

‘Well, to be clear: I wouldn’t say “pig” as much as “gigantic feral hog”,’ Uli clarified. Wind nodded sagely. ‘Considering its size,’ she continued, ‘I’m not quite sure how he managed to get it through the front door, let alone up the ladder, but –’

Warriors regretfully tore himself away from the conversation and headed for the forge.

Wind and Sky would just have to update him later.

There was a noticeable dent in one of Time’s pauldrons. Four couldn’t help but wonder how and when their leader had managed that. An attack like that had to have hurt, had to have left bruises at the minimum, or, more likely, had to have left sprained muscles or broken bones.

His grimace deepened as he let his eyes shift to Warriors’s bracers and the countless scratches and impact marks that marred the heavy plate. To an untrained eye, it may not have looked like much damage at all, yet Four knew full well just how hard an enemy would have had to hit to leave even a single small scuff on such high quality steel.

And yet, both pieces paled in comparison to the two biggest crimes against metalwork of them all: Twilight’s chainmail and Wild’s sword. For heaven’s sake, Four wanted to scream: what was the point in wearing armour covered in gaping holes, or in carrying a sword so chipped it would break if someone breathed on it too hard?!

At least Wild had been upfront about the weapon’s condition when he’d handed it over the previous night, grinning a cheeky challenge. For his own part, Twilight had merely offered up the ruined chainmail with a remarkably blasé “any chance you can patch this?”

‘There’d be a hell of a lot less to “patch” if you’d had it looked at sooner,’ Four muttered to himself, lithe fingers running critically across the gaps in the weave.

He paused to tend to the fire. Once the furnace was ready, he could make the replacement rings for Twilight’s armour along with the nails Rusl had requested in trade for access to the forge and the materials Four would need. He cast a dubious eye over Wild’s sword, trying to decide if it was worth trying to fix. Probably not, if he was honest, considering how deep some of the cracks ran, yet his competitive side rebelled at the idea of admitting defeat.

Chuck it in the slag bin and be done with it, a surly internal voice advised. Not as if Wild gives a shit. He’ll just stab another bokoblin and take its weapon as a replacement. A quantity over quality arsehole after my own heart.

It’s still salvageable, a second voice argued. We’ll need to cut down on the edge a bit, but I think a smaller weapon would suit Wild better anyway.

We could always start from scratch, a third offered. Why settle for recycled garbage? This thing isn’t even particularly high quality to start with. Looks more like a noble’s fancy toy than anything worth carrying into a real battle.

It’d be nice to give Wild something a bit sturdier, a fourth chimed in thoughtfully.

Four scowled and did his best to pretend he couldn’t hear the internal commentary. Checking once again, he found that the furnace was finally hot enough to start. He selected three thin steel rods and carefully poked the first of them into the flames to heat. Rusl’s nails first, he reminded himself. After that, he could pull the wire for Twilight’s chainmail and form it into rings. A decision on Wild’s wreck of a sword could wait.

He was well into the rhythm of the nail making process by the time he saw the sudden brightening that heralded the opening of the forge door. He quickly finished off the nail and tossed a pair of fluffy earmuffs at the newcomer.

‘No safety equipment no entry, at least while I’m hammering,’ Four informed the thoroughly bemused Hero of Warriors.

‘Then why aren’t you wearing any?’ he challenged.

‘See this?’ Four flicked his earring. ‘A Minish smith gave it to me. Has a fully adjustable noise-cancelling enchantment. Good both for hammering and for sensory overload. All I need to do is speak the right command words. Unfortunately, I only have the one, so you’re going to have to settle for standard kit if you want in. Assuming you’re not here to drag me off on urgent hero business?’

Grudgingly, Warriors donned the slightly ridiculous-looking pair of earmuffs and replied, ‘No urgent hero business for now. Mind if I watch you work?’

Four shrugged. ‘I don’t see why not. Might be a little boring, though.’

‘What was that?’ Warriors asked loudly.

Oh, right. Earmuffs. Four raised his voice and called back, ‘Sit over here.’ He gestured to a spot well out of the way, thankful that Rusl’s forge was large enough to offer a little breathing room.

Uncomplaining, Warriors settled in as Four returned to his work, the latter quickly forgetting about his audience. Heat the metal, it began. Hammer out the point. Cut to the right length, clamp into place, twist off the end and flatten the nail head. Unclamp, quench, drop onto the pile with the others. Start over with the next rod.

The familiar work was repetitive enough that it didn’t take much time at all for Four’s thoughts to wander. What’s Wars really here for? Just to watch? Like hell, a suspicious tone announced.

‘Shut up, Blue,’ Four muttered to himself. He distantly noted Warriors’s raised eyebrow but contented himself with the sight of the thick, goat wool earmuffs and the muted ring of his own hammer to drown out any residual sound.

Oh, grow up, Four; they’ve already seen us split. You even explained to them how it all works, Vio said impatiently. May as well get it over with, don’t you think?

Four struck the clamped steel rod with perhaps just a little more force than it deserved. Briefly inspecting the result, he deemed the latest nail passable if not necessarily his best work. He quenched it and dropped it in amongst its brethren, then reached for the next steel rod.

‘You ok, Four?’ he heard Warriors ask.

‘I’m good,’ he called back.

Think that’s a no on the splitting front, Green remarked. Pity. I kind of wanted to go exploring. Maybe see what sort of nonsense Wild and Hyrule are up to. Maybe even join in.

Weren’t they just resting back at Twi’s house? Red asked curiously.

Green snorted. Yeah, as if. Did you pay any attention to what Hyrule was saying? That sneaky little shit was definitely plotting something.

Four frowned. Come to think of it…

He finished the last nail and set down the hammer, gesturing for Warriors to remove his earmuffs. ‘Say, Warriors,’ he began, ‘have Wild and ’Rule dropped by at all?’

Warriors glanced back to the entrance to the forge. ‘Not here, they haven’t. If they left Twi’s house, they’d probably be outside with the others. If you’d like to take a break, we can both go and check?’

Four looked back to the hearth. ‘Not yet – I still have plenty of work to do. But don’t let me keep you. This can’t be all that exciting to watch.’

‘It actually is,’ Warriors said thoughtfully. ‘Not that I know a lot about what I’m watching, but it’s pretty interesting. While I have you, though…’

‘Yeah?’

Warriors raised a brow. ‘Are you sure you’re ok?’

Four tensed. ‘Why wouldn’t I be?’

‘Your eyes were doing that flickering thing you warned us about,’ Warriors informed him. ‘I noticed it this morning as well. And you were talking to yourself. You said it was something to watch out for. So, if you need a reminder –’

Whatever came next was drowned out by Vio’s indignant voice. See? What’d I tell you? We’ve already gone through this stuff with everyone, so stop being so damn cagey, Blue.

Fuck off, Vio, who said I was the one stopping us from splitting?

Well, it’s one of us and it’s sure as hell not me.

Technically Four is all of us, Green pointed out.

Then let’s vote on it already! Vio retorted. I say we split and get it over with.

Right fucking now?! snapped Blue. We’re in the middle of a conversation! And in the middle of a task! Four, hurry up and tell Warriors to piss off, then maybe we can split and work together to get this shitty old chainmail fixed faster.

Four thoughtfully decided not to tell his friend to piss off, instead trying to refocus on whatever it was Warriors was trying to tell him. It was probably important.

‘– not a sign of weakness or anything, alright?’ Warriors continued. ‘Everyone has their –’

I don’t mind doing it now, Green interrupted. Red?

Umm… I guess. If you think that’s best? Red replied hesitantly.

Then we’ve got ourselves a majority, Vio concluded. Hear that? Do it already, Four!

Warriors’s voice cut off as the door creaked ajar to reveal Twilight’s father, who called a quick greeting before retrieving a few items and ducking out once again. Four gave him a curt nod before turning back towards the workbench to prepare the tools he would need for Twilight’s armour. ‘Wars, I appreciate your concern, but w– I’ll be fine,’ he insisted. ‘I’m always a bit off after portals, remember? It passes quickly. It’s no big deal.’

‘If you say so,’ Warriors replied doubtfully.

‘I do say so,’ Four stated bluntly, ‘and it’s my right to say so. Sure, we’re companions, but we’re still separate people. We can make our own decisions, keep our own secrets –’

Yeah, like wolf thing aside: why didn’t Twi tell us his dad was so hot? Vio contributed helpfully.

Four dropped three mandrels, a draw plate and a wire ingot onto the floor and cursed loudly.

What do you mean by “wolf thing aside”? Red asked curiously.

Blue had bigger concerns. Get your heterosexuality under control, woman! he snapped.

Shut your cis-trash mouth, Blue, I can be as heterosexual as I like, Vio retorted.

Not with Twilight’s family, you can’t. You really gonna wreck that home?!

I’m not wrecking anyone’s home! It was a harmless observation made in the safety of my own head, which you unfortunately cohabit!

Fuck you, I was here first.

Ok, one: we were literally all here first, two: I’d evict you if I could, don’t think I wouldn’t, and three: this wouldn’t even be an issue if we would just split already!

‘Nope,’ said Four.

‘Nope what?’ asked Warriors.

Well, that’s that, I suppose, Green observed. Guess we’re stuck like this for now.

Urgh. Fine, snapped Vio. Just keep in mind how I voted next time you feel like complaining that ‘my heterosexuality is out of control.’

‘Uhh… what?’ said Warriors.

A beat.

‘Well,’ Four’s rather befuddled companion continued, ‘can’t exactly relate, but you have my sympathy. That… must be difficult?’

‘Umm,’ said Four, and found, to his dismay, that that was in fact all he really had to say on the matter. Amidst the resulting silence, two voices began to scream inside his head.

VIO, WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SAY THAT ALOUD?!

DAMN IT, BLUE, DO YOU THINK I FUCKING MEANT TO SAY THAT ALOUD?!

FINE. WHATEVER. I DON’T EVEN CARE. JUST GIVE ME THE FUCKING VOCAL CORDS SO I CAN AT LEAST TRY TO SMOOTH THINGS OVER!

I DON’T HAVE THE FUCKING VOCAL CORDS, FUCKING FOUR TOOK THEM BACK! FOUR, GIVE ME THE FUCKING VOCAL CORDS!

‘Ok, you know what?’ Four announced at last. ‘Fuck this. Fuck everything. Wars, this is your problem now, and you have no one but yourself to blame.’ He reached for the Four Sword.

Warriors blinked confusedly. ‘Huh?’

Heh, Vio snickered, just as planned.

A little too late, Blue began, the fuck did you just –?!

With his last moments of consciousness, Four sent a wish out into the universe that at least some of his companions were having a normal day.

Fortuitously enough, Wild and Hyrule were, by their standards at least, having a rather normal day.

‘On your left!’ Hyrule called sharply. In his peripherals, he watched Wild turn to stab the bulbin that had tried to sneak up on him. He then twisted the blade free and slammed the pommel into yet another foe, hard enough to send it staggering backwards. Hyrule might have helped were he not preoccupied with fending off three wooden clubs at once. With a quiet “tch” of annoyance, he let his magic surge down the blade, setting the metal ablaze. All three enemies recoiled, and Hyrule seized the opportunity to strike.

Between his own dirty tricks and Wild’s aggressive swordplay, it didn’t take long at all for them to thoroughly rout the remaining enemies, the only casualties being a minor nick on Wild’s arm, easily healed with a spark of Hyrule’s magic, and a large purple bloodstain on his clothes which Wild appeared far more upset about.

‘That better wash out,’ he grumbled. ‘I like this skirt.’

Feeling mildly responsible given his own direction to veer wildly off the beaten path, Hyrule offered, ‘Wanna go back to that spring we passed earlier? Probably better to try washing it sooner rather than later.’

Wild gave an easy grin. ‘Good idea.’ He cast an appraising eye over himself and added, ‘Dunno about you, but clothes aside, I could also probably use a bath.’

‘Oh. Yeah,’ Hyrule remarked, looking down at himself and belatedly recalling bathing’s status as an activity that civilised individuals were generally expected to engage in on a semi-regular basis. Hyrule may have forgotten. Hyrule may have been living in caves for long enough to forget a lot of things that civilised individuals were expected to do. ‘Yeah. I should probably wash up as well.’

Without further ado, though with a few minor detours related to Wild finding a squirrel and Hyrule finding some stinging nettles, they returned to the spring and took turns bathing and laundering, the other standing guard in case of further attacks. It wasn’t until Hyrule had almost finished scrubbing himself clean that Wild finally broached the subject: ‘So, not that I’m complaining or anything, but are you going to tell me why you suddenly wanted to ditch the others and go exploring?’

Hyrule winced. ‘Uhh… no particular reason?’ he attempted. ‘Maybe I just wanted to go for a lovely little adventure with my lovely little successor?’

‘Who are you calling little?’ Wild demanded. ‘I’m taller than you. For once. You know how novel that is for me to be taller than someone?’

Hyrule looked at him incredulously. ‘You are not taller than me. You just… you just wear tall boots! Doesn’t count.’

‘Hell yeah it does,’ Wild scoffed, flaunting his not-particularly-high heels. ‘If you get to count your hair, I definitely get to count the boots. All my problems look like ants from up here; it’s great. Also, I’m not your successor.’

Hyrule threw a doubtful glance over his shoulder. ‘Are you disowning me?’

‘No, but if you really were my predecessor, then you would’ve already known about the Sheikah Slate, the Guardians and the Divine Beasts, right?’ Wild explained. ‘And if we’re talking grand-predecessors or great-grand-predecessors or whatever: didn’t we already decide that I came after Wind? And aren’t you and Wind from different parallel universes or something? I thought that’s where we landed after the whole timeline discussion. Am I wrong?’

Oh. Right. ‘Well, I guess we don’t really know for sure,’ Hyrule replied disingenuously. Never mind the one glaring reason why Wild would have had to come after Hyrule – the one Wind had seemingly forgotten about. ‘You’re pretty far in the future after all,’ he added. ‘All sorts of things could’ve happened…’ He shrugged, forgetting that Wild wouldn’t be able to see it from his position. ‘If Time gets to have multiple successors, no reason why you shouldn’t get to have multiple grand-predecessors, I suppose?’

‘That sounds like nonsense, so you know what? Sure. Guess you’re my grand-predecessor,’ Wild decided. ‘All the more reason why I should be looking after you, then. Gotta care for my elders and all that. Even though age-wise I’m basically your great-great-grandpa.’

Hyrule frowned. ‘No way are you my great-great-grandpa. I’m over ten thousand years older than you in timeline terms. You’re like… my timeline nibling or something.’

‘Timeline older brother,’ Wild shot back.

‘Younger brother.’

‘We can be twins?’

Hyrule considered. ‘I guess,’ he accepted grudgingly.

‘I’m the older twin,’ Wild concluded – sneakily enough that Hyrule couldn’t help but be impressed. ‘Now stop dodging the question and tell me what’s wrong.’ He paused, frowning, and quickly appended, ‘If you want to, that is. You don’t have to. I mean, I know we only just met, so if you’d rather discuss this with someone you actually trust –’

‘I trust you, Wild,’ Hyrule said bluntly, surprising even himself with the confidence behind that statement. ‘I do trust you,’ he repeated thoughtfully. ‘Right now, it’s me that I don’t trust. I wanted to get some distance from the others in order to get my head in order.’ He splashed idly, watching his reflection ripple and break. Something seemed slightly off in that reflection, but he lacked the focus necessary to puzzle it out. ‘Sorry for dragging you along,’ he stated instead. ‘And for getting you caught up in like five unnecessary monster fights.’

‘One: you didn’t drag me along, and two: totally necessary. Kind of fun, too.’

Hyrule made a face. ‘Wild, you’re a problem child. For the record.’

‘Is that really how you want to talk to your older twin brother?’

Hyrule snorted. ‘Yeah, well. Sure: it was kinda fun.’ He could give Wild that. Twilight’s monsters weren’t so bad, after all, at least the ones they’d faced so far.

Wild briefly turned to grin at Hyrule. ‘Exactly! So, did you manage to get your head in order, or is there something I can help with?’

Hyrule sighed. ‘Yeah. I’ve probably cooled down enough,’ he said glumly. ‘That’s all I needed to do, really. It wasn’t anything particularly complex, just… petty grudges that don’t make sense, held against people that don’t deserve them… thinking of all the ways things could’ve been different if… hard not to, when you keep running into the hard evidence –’ he cut himself off, shaking his head. ‘But it isn’t even his fault,’ he corrected quickly. ‘Legend said it himself, and if Legend isn’t holding a grudge, when he has so many more reasons than I do, then…’

He trailed off, staring unseeing into the water once again. Indeed, Legend clearly wasn’t holding a grudge, and of course he wasn’t. Legend wasn’t a hateful person, no matter what his prickly exterior might suggest. And that was the difference between the two of them, wasn’t it?

That was the difference between Legend, able to maintain boundaries the previous night even when he was exhausted from fear and pain, and Hyrule, who would have just kept on pressing forever if no one had stopped him. That was the difference between Hyrule, running off to the wilderness to cool his head, and Legend, smiling shyly across the breakfast table at the person it would have been so easy for him to hate, the person it would so easy to blame, the person –

‘But it’s not his damn fault,’ Hyrule reminded himself fiercely. ‘And even if it had been –’

Even if it had been Time’s fault back then: so what? That version of Time had died long ago, had already paid the ultimate price for any failures Hyrule might try to pin on him. Legend had dutifully taken up his predecessor’s mantle, fought Ganon and triumphed back when his foe possessed both the completed Triforce and the human cunning and dark magic powers of his former self. By the time Hyrule began his own quest, Ganon had been little more than a witless, rampaging beast armed with a mere fragment of that divine power.

If Hyrule had been even just a little more like Legend, or even like Twilight or Wind, then the whole cycle might have ended then and there. The others hadn’t been cursed, at least not in the way Hyrule was cursed: a curse that all but guaranteed that Ganon would return within his lifetime, or, more accurately, shortly after his lifetime. The others could hold their heads high, could call themselves heroes. They didn’t live in a different cave every night, flinching from strangers, hiding their face on the rare occasion they dared enter a settlement, always sure not to overstay their welcome, always careful about the risk of exposing an innocent benefactor to the Eyes of Ganon…

Would Legend come to hate Hyrule if he learned the full story, or would his predecessor simply blame himself as usual, pretending he could have somehow foreseen Hyrule’s failures, pretending it was possible for Legend to carry all the weight of Hyrule’s past, present and future on those weary shoulders of his, pretending that Hyrule deserved more, that he was something better, kinder, more remarkable than he really was?

No. Legend being Legend, there was no way he would hate Hyrule, would blame Hyrule, would even be disappointed in Hyrule. He was too good of a person for that.

Sometimes, Hyrule wished he wasn’t.

Wild’s voice eventually cut through his reverie. ‘’Rule? You ok?’

Hyrule jolted. ‘Oh. Yeah. Sorry…’

He noticed he was shivering. Just how long had he been sitting there in the cold spring water? He waded over to the shore, where Wild had thoughtfully laid out some clean, dry clothing for him. He dressed quickly and turned to his companion. ‘Wild,’ he said, ‘can you do me a favour?’

Wild looked at him curiously. ‘Sure. What is it?’

‘Can you tell me a bit about the Ganon of your era?’ he asked. ‘Calamity Ganon, I think you called it? If that isn’t a sensitive question.’

‘Oh.’ Wild considered. ‘Yeah, easy. I should have a few photos.’

Scandalised, Hyrule asked, ‘You took photos of Ganon?!’

‘For my Compendium!’ Wild said defensively. ‘The Sheikah Slate sometimes gives useful information if you – ah, never mind; I’ll just show you!’

Hyrule watched Wild’s fingers dance across the display until it found two entries: Calamity Ganon and Dark Beast Ganon, the former a terrifying close-up view of a monstrosity with far too many limbs, the latter a distance shot of a hulking beast almost the size of the castle standing behind it. Next to each image was a block of explanatory text.

The source of the darkness that has appeared time and again throughout Hyrule’s history. It’s been called many names, from “Great King of Evil” to “Calamity”.

Its appearance and fiendish magic earned it the name of Dark Beast. This form is considered to be Ganon’s original, although in this state, his awareness has been consumed entirely by Malice and all he knows is a desire to rampage and destroy.

Hyrule nodded, throat tight. ‘Thanks, Wild.’ He hesitated. ‘You’re, umm… very impressive. The Ganon that I fought was a lot smaller, you know?’

‘R-really?’ Wild asked, seeming startled. ‘Oh. Uh, I mean, I guess that makes sense. Wind was telling me about his Ganon the other day too, and it – he, I mean – seemed a bit different to what I fought… but of course, I had the four Divine Beasts on my side, and none of you did, right? I probably had things pretty easy in the end compared to the rest of you.’

Hyrule snorted. ‘I doubt that.’ He really doubted that. ‘You’re a much bigger badass than you give yourself credit for.’

Wild flushed. ‘Says the badass with the healing magic and the fire and lightning magic and the incredibly badass sword skills?’

‘Says me,’ Hyrule equivocated. ‘Anyway, wanna keep moving? The day’s still young, and this forest isn’t going to explore itself.’

Wild gave him an appraising look. Hyrule only squirmed a little. ‘Think I saw some unidentifiable mushrooms back that way,’ Wild offered at last. ‘May or may not be poisonous. Won’t know until I try.’

Hyrule frowned. ‘That sounds like a bad idea.’

‘Yeah, probably,’ Wild agreed. ‘C’mon, then.’

Chapter Text

‘Kitty, no! Linkie’s face is not a scwatchy pole!’ Twilight protested as the small, fierce creature clinging to his chest made its firm opposing opinion known. ‘Pwease don’t scwatch me with your sharp widdle cwaws! C’mon, I thought we were friends! Was it the baby talk? It can’t have been the baby talk, can it?’ Lowering his voice, he added, ‘If you can understand me while I’m in Hylian form you gotta say something, alright? Otherwise, it’s entrapment. That’s what entrapment is, right? And I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. I mean, it’s illegal under Hyrulean law, at least, and although Ordon Province is technically outside of –’

As if offering a statement of disdain for the mere concept of legal systems and the enforcement thereof, the calico chose that moment to swipe Twilight across the nose, clamber over his shoulder and bolt, slender white tail waving a cheeky farewell.

Cat-cuddling ambitions thwarted, Twilight heaved a mournful sigh as he stood, dusted himself off and returned his attention to the mundane world.

A few wooden tables and several mismatched chairs – some still bearing tattered decorations from the last village fête – had been dragged out from the communal storage shed to accommodate more guests than Ordon Village had seen in months. Only one of the tables was occupied: Twilight’s parents sat at either end with Sky, Warriors and Vio on one long side and Time and Legend on the other.

An unwitting smile tugged at Twilight’s lips as he watched. The conversation itself was largely carried away by the breeze, but he could see his mother’s affectionate smile, Warriors and Vio’s emphatic gestures, Time’s cheeky grin, Legend’s sudden jolt as a small calico cat clambered into his lap, rubbed its head against his chest, and –

Wait a second.

‘You filthy traitor,’ Twilight breathed, eyes fixed on the heartless, soulless creature shamelessly swanning around in another man’s arms. Ungrateful as ever, Legend granted the cat a scowl, an eye roll, a few presumably harsh words and an ineffective shove, and then proceeded to ignore it completely. His eyes flickered curiously in Twilight’s direction for a brief moment before his attention was recaptured by whatever Warriors was saying.

‘Hey, Twi!’

Twilight jolted as a voice from nearby broke through his reverie. Wind and Green watched bemusedly as he resettled himself, trying his best to not look like a man who’d just been cheated on by the love of his life.

(His boyfriend’s face swam idly into mind, offering some sort of anecdote about chopped liver. He pushed it away.)

‘Good afternoon,’ Twilight said politely.

‘Cats are the fucking worst, huh?’ Green offered in response.

Twilight winced.

‘Nah, that’s nothing; you should see my neighbour’s pig,’ Wind said dismissively. ‘Anyway, Twi: if you’ve got a moment, I have a question.’

Twilight sighed. ‘Ask away.’

‘Theoretically,’ Wind said – always a promising beginning – ‘how bad would it be, on a scale of one to ten, if two directionally challenged companions with a knack for finding trouble were to disappear into the nearby woods and fail to respond to any attempts at distance communication?’

Twilight blinked. Twilight opened his mouth to speak. Twilight closed his mouth, paused, and then tried again. ‘So. Theoretically,’ he began, ‘is this a “planning-for-shenanigans” scenario or a “shenanigans-gone-wrong” scenario?’

Wind and Green exchanged looks. ‘Well,’ Wind said half-heartedly, ‘if you’re giving me those as the only two options…’

At least an hour elapsed between the time Wild and Hyrule departed from the spring and the time it occurred to the former to wonder where exactly he’d managed to lead the two of them. It was at that point that he attempted to open the map on his Sheikah Slate, only to be reminded that this was not, in fact, a world in which said map actually functioned.

Wild turned to his companion. ‘I uh… think I might have gotten us lost,’ he admitted sheepishly. ‘Any chance you know where we are right now, ’Rule?’

Hyrule considered the question with an unconcerned tilt of his head. ‘Faron Woods, I think?’

‘Sure, but more specifically?’ Wild revealed the static-shrouded screen of his slate. ‘My map doesn’t seem to work here, and I’m pretty bad at navigation without it.’

‘Oh. Well, I’m pretty sure we came from somewhere over there, if that helps?’ Hyrule indicated vaguely behind them.

‘Well… ok,’ Wild said uncertainly. ‘But isn’t it a bit of a problem if we don’t know where we are?’

‘Is it?’ Hyrule asked. ‘I mean, I’ve managed fine without a map this whole time. Maybe I’ve gotten a bit lost from time to time, but it’s never really been all that big of a deal. The best secrets are found off the beaten path, after all.’

‘Well… yeah, I guess that’s true,’ Wild mused. ‘I mean, sure: if I’d just stuck to the map the whole time I was travelling, there’s all sorts of cool stuff I’d never have encountered.’

‘Exactly! So, who needs ’em?’ Hyrule said dismissively. ‘Just gotta keep moving, keep discovering, and above all, remember to “Never Eat Waterlogged Sourdough”.’ As he recited that final recommendation, Hyrule pointed straight at Wild and then turned his hand in a clockwise direction, finishing with “sourdough” on stage left.

Wild blinked. He quickly checked the position of the sun and the shadows around them. ‘Do you, uh, maybe mean “Never Eat Soggy Wheatbread”?’ he suggested, nervously indicating each cardinal direction in turn – north being very much not within the general vicinity of Hyrule’s “never”.

‘Is that how they say it in your era?’ Hyrule asked curiously. ‘Well, either way: the important thing is to store and ration your supplies carefully when you’re travelling. Not that you can’t technically eat soggy or waterlogged bread if you need to, but mould can be a bit of a health hazard – not to mention how sourdough is just really not a great bread to travel with anyway. Takes up too much room in your bag and has a limited shelf life to boot. I don’t know where the pointing thing came from, but presumably there’s some kind of story behind that as well. Legend would probably know.’

Wild stared at Hyrule for a long moment while several pieces of long trusted, deeply ingrained wisdom carefully rearranged themselves within his mind.

‘I… guess?’ he said at last, and then, with growing confidence, ‘Yeah! I mean, considering how I constantly get lost even with a map and how you’ve managed all this time without one: what even is the point?’

‘That’s the spirit!’ Hyrule enthused.

Wild grinned. ‘Yeah! And it’s not like we’re planning a cross-country trip or anything. How lost can we even get in a few measly hours?’

‘Incredibly, unbelievably, heroically lost,’ was Twilight’s assessment upon finally locating two intrepid adventurers several hours later. ‘How and why did you even end up here?!’ he added disgustedly. ‘I’ve lived near Faron Woods most of my life, and I’ve never even seen this place! I had to climb down two different cliffs on the way over! You’re lucky the two of you didn’t fall and break your l–’

He halted.

Hyrule looked up from the bush he was studying. ‘Hey Twi,’ he called brightly. ‘Good timing, actually: could you help me identify this?’ He gestured towards the plant, then to the book lying open before him. ‘I was thinking it might be feverfew, but it also looks pretty similar to chamomile.’

‘Uhh,’ said Twilight.

‘Are you sure those aren’t just daisies?’ Wild offered, briefly looking over from the bear he was feeding.

‘I don’t think so?’ Hyrule mused. ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen any, but I’m pretty sure daisy petals are meant to be long and thin, not stumpy like these. And daisies are supposed to smell pleasant and sweet, right? This thing kind of stinks.’

‘Mrmph,’ was the bear’s quiet contribution, offered up between bites of salmon.

‘Wild,’ Twilight said as calmly as he was able, ‘could you please drop the fish and slowly back away from the bear?’

‘Huh? Why?’ asked Wild.

‘Because I’d really rather you weren’t mauled today,’ he said faintly.

‘Mama Snuffles wouldn’t do that,’ Wild disputed, giving the newly-dubbed Mama Snuffles an affectionate pat. She snuffled agreeably. ‘See? She’s a good girl. Might not even eat her. Pity, ’cause she’d probably taste great. Look at all that juicy meat. Those healthy haunches. Picture those in a nice honey and chilli marinade, slow-cooked with a bit of boar fat, maybe some butter, a few handfuls of toasted nuts, some gorgeous seasonal aromatics, a crisp and crunchy salad on the side… oh, don’t worry, Mama Snuffles; it was just a harmless observation. Friends don’t eat friends. Unless they’re really tasty.’

Utterly unphased by that rather unfortunate loophole, the bear continued to dine out of Wild’s hand, and Twilight felt another small sliver of his sanity slip away. ‘Look, just trust me on this, Wild,’ he pleaded. ‘Bears are not your friend, or your mama.’

‘Too late; I already signed the adoption papers,’ Wild informed him, but, with an exasperated sigh, he passed over the last of the fish, patted Mama Snuffles gently on the head and then nudged her firmly on the flank, muttering, ‘On your way, mumsy.’

The bear responded with little more than a mildly disgruntled snuffle and a “playful” smack that Wild narrowly dodged.

‘You heard him,’ Twilight snapped. ‘Shoo! Go away!’ He clapped his hands a few times to illustrate the point, aggressively moving forwards to stand between Wild and the bear.

Mama Snuffles backed off a few steps and paused, giving a warning growl. Twilight held his arms wide in the universal gesture for “try me, bitch”, ready to growl right back if necessary. It turned out not to be: a few seconds later, with a huff of unhappiness, Mama Snuffles conceded the stare-off and loped off into the woods with the remnants of a large salmon still poking out of her mouth. As soon as she was out of sight, Twilight heaved a sigh of relief and turned back to Wild.

‘That bear wasn’t being friendly. She was being curious,’ Twilight lectured. ‘Sooner or later, she would’ve figured out that you’re just a weird-shaped animal, which means you’re either family – which you’re very clearly not – or you’re a predator, or you’re food. We don’t want bears associating people with food, especially with a village close by.’

Wild nodded thoughtfully, then proceeded to ask, ‘So how does one become a bear’s family, then?’

Twilight promptly arrived at three important revelations:

First, he needed an adult.

Second, he was an adult.

Third, he definitely needed an adultier adult.

‘You know what, my dear cub?’ he offered eventually. ‘Once we’re back in town: ask my folks. Or Time. They know all sorts of things about the adoption process. Maybe they can help you out here.’

Hyrule gave a judgemental hum which Twilight decided to ignore, seeing as how said judgemental hum originated from the entirely unbothered witness to a near-bear experience. Instead, he strode over, crouched and plucked a sprig from the bush Hyrule had been studying. He then crushed it between his fingers and sniffed at the result. ‘This is feverfew, by the way,’ he confirmed. ‘There are plenty of similar-looking plants, but the smell of this one is pretty unique. Give it a sniff so you know for next time.’

Hyrule lit up, swiftly complying with the direction. His nose wrinkled at the bitter scent, but it wasn’t enough to dissuade him from carefully harvesting a large portion of the bush and stuffing it into his bag. Twilight leaned over his shoulder to inspect the other herbs Hyrule had found. ‘Stinging nettles, wild mustard, Ordon pepper berry… yep, this all looks good,’ he confirmed. ‘You’ve done well.’

‘Not really,’ Hyrule mumbled. ‘I couldn’t find much.’ He flicked to a bookmarked page in the encyclopaedia and scanned it briefly before closing the book and placing it back into his bag. ‘Sorry we took so long, by the way. I’m assuming that’s why you’re here?’

Twilight frowned. ‘That, and that it’s really not safe to wander off on your own like this. I can understand needing some space every now and then, but these woods can be a bit dicey at the best of times, even without whatever we were dropped here to deal with. Wind did try to contact you by the way, Wild. He and Green were worried when you didn’t respond. Worried enough to ask for help tracking you down.’ His frown deepened as he thought back to the unusually serious expression on Wind’s face.

‘They tried to call me?’ Wild said blankly. ‘When exactly…?’ He checked his Sheikah Slate and flushed. ‘O-oh. Whoops.’

‘…You didn’t notice?’

‘Uh… well, see, I might’ve forgotten, but my slate has this thing called “silent mode”, and…’ Wild trailed off sheepishly.

Mildly reproachful, Twilight asked, ‘Can you contact Wind now, then? Just so they all know I found you and that you’re safe? And so Legend doesn’t panic and run off into the forest when he inevitably finds out that you two went missing?’

Wild fumbled to comply, while Hyrule bristled. ‘We didn’t go missing. We left a note,’ he said cuttingly. ‘Not only that, but both Wild and I spent the vast majority of our quests travelling alone in this sort of environment. Even if you and Legend don’t trust me, you could at least trust Wild.’

Twilight raised his hands placatingly. ‘Never said anything about distrusting either of you, ’Rule. Just that there are a lot of people that care about you now, one of which is me, one of which is Wind, and another of which is an impulsive, overbearing moron who’d fuss over your skinned knee even if he himself was midway through bleeding out.’

Hyrule deflated, gaze dropping to the forest floor. ‘Sorry.’

Twilight patted Hyrule gently on the shoulder. ‘Hey. Don’t apologise.’ His thoughts strayed to that brief glimpse of a bookmarked page titled “pain and inflammation” and he hesitated over his next words.

Wild spoke up before he could. ‘Wind isn’t responding,’ he announced haltingly. ‘He could just be busy… I’ve changed the slate’s settings so I’ll know if he calls back. Should we wait?’

Twilight glanced towards the late afternoon sun and replied, ‘Better not. There isn’t much daylight left, and we don’t want to be stuck out here after dark.’

Hyrule rose abruptly to his feet, offering Twilight a hand to do the same. ‘C’mon then,’ he said, immediately before striding off in entirely the wrong direction.

‘Erm. Maybe I should lead?’ Twilight suggested politely. ‘I know a shortcut or two.’ Which was to say a path or two that would not lead directly into the Lost Woods.

Hyrule surveyed him with insulting doubt. ‘If you insist.’

‘I very much do,’ Twilight replied.

A few cliff ascents and a short stroll brought them back to an old dirt path that Twilight seemed to recognise. Trailing behind the others, Hyrule let his mind tick once more through an inventory of the herbs he’d found. Only half of them actually existed within his own era, at least within the places he’d actually visited. As for the so-called “Ordon pepper berry”… Hyrule was relatively sure he’d heard of Ordon before, but if he had, it was well beyond the Calatia border. Certainly not a place he’d had much appetite to return to in the past. What about in Legend’s era? He’d have to ask…

‘Hyrule?’

He jolted. ‘Yes?!’

Twilight and Wild were both looking at him with concern. ‘Sorry. I kind of zoned out,’ Hyrule admitted.

‘That’s alright. I was just sharing the news from the village,’ Twilight explained patiently. ‘Not that there is much, really. Nothing particularly solid in terms of what we were sent here to deal with this time, though my father did know about the infection at least.’

Hyrule did his best to focus. ‘Oh?’

‘Mm-hmm. I think I might have mentioned it before, but he’s part of the Resistance – a group that gathers information, fights monsters and sends resources where they’re needed across Hyrule and the surrounding lands.’

‘Isn’t that your job?’ Wild asked curiously.

Twilight made a face. ‘On my own? Of course not. The kingdom’s far too big, and I’m only one person. I’d never have gotten this far without help.’

Wild nodded thoughtfully. Hyrule winced. Twilight seemed rather put out by their less-than-enthusiastic reactions, but continued, ‘In any case, we already know that black-blooded monsters have been spotted in other parts of Hyrule. Wild, you missed this part, but last time everyone was in my era they were dropped in the Gerudo Desert – that’s always been a bit of a monster hotspot, not to mention an important diplomatic route. We found a few clusters of infected monsters down that way and dealt with them at the time, but it sounds like there’ve been plenty of reports from other parts of Hyrule since then. Only a few have actually been verified, mind you, but it’s enough to be concerning.

‘Ordon and its surrounding areas are Dad’s territory, more or less, so he came back recently to scout the area. He’s already warned the villagers about the potential for stronger monsters to appear, but it doesn’t sound like there have been any sightings yet. That said, people living around here generally don’t tend to stray far from their homes, so if there’s trouble about then it’s probably deeper in the forest. Considering where we were dropped, I think we should check the Forest Temple first, then maybe the Lost Woods.’

‘The Lost Woods?’ Wild asked curiously. ‘Weren’t we in Faron?’

‘The Lost Woods are right next to Faron Woods,’ Twilight replied. ‘You were pretty close to them when I found you.’ He made a face. ‘Of all the places to wander.’

‘That can’t be right,’ Wild argued. ‘The Lost Woods are supposed to be all the way on the other side of the map.’

‘Well, you and ’Rule did end up pretty far north,’ Twilight told him.

Wild continued to look confused, but as he opened his mouth to enquire further, a raucous chime erupted from his hip. All three of them jolted, Hyrule instinctively reaching for his sword while Wild scrabbled with his screeching Sheikah Slate.

‘–S thing working? Hello?’ a familiar voice eventually piped up.

‘Huh? Legend?’ a nonplussed Wild asked. ‘Is that you? Why do you have Wind’s Pirate Charm?’

‘Shit – that’s louder than I expected,’ Legend cursed. ‘Let me just…’ There was a brief shuffling sound. ‘Ok, we’re good. Wild, is that you? Are you ok? What about Hyrule? Is he with you? Either of you hurt? Or in danger?’

‘Uh… yeah. I mean, no. Both. Hyrule’s here, so is Twi. We’re all fine,’ Wild replied, glancing sheepishly at his companions. ‘No injuries, no immediate danger. We’re heading back now.’

‘Ok. Good. Alright. That’s good to know,’ Legend sighed. His tone sharpened. ‘Fucking scared me, you dumbasses. Where the fuck are you all?’

‘Uhh…’ Wild looked pleadingly at Twilight, who leaned in and supplied, ‘We’re about another hour north of the village. As Wild said, we’re on our way back now. Where are you? I know I’m going to regret asking, but please tell me you did not steal Wind’s pendant and then aimlessly and impulsively run off at top speed into the woods.’

‘Wasn’t aimless, wasn’t impulsive and I won this thing fair and square,’ Legend informed them loftily. ‘His fault for wagering it on paper-scissors-rock.’

Twilight made an odd choking sound. ‘What – how did that situation even arise?!’

‘Well, long story short: having cleverly deduced that those two were missing and uncontactable, I went to Wind and said, “hey, let me borrow that, I’m gonna go find Roolie and Wild”, following which we had a brief, polite discussion about the pros and cons of waiting patiently for news, following which he said, “fine, but only if you can beat me at paper-scissors-rock. Paper, scissors –”, then he reached into his pouch and I reached into mine, he threw one of Time’s deku nuts – fucking kleptomaniac – and I threw a fistful of dungeon maps – which turns out to be quite a lot of maps when they’re not shrunk down to magical pouch-size – and although his hand was doing the paper sign, I’m pretty sure nuts are much more rock-adjacent than paper-adjacent, so I grabbed my prize and ran off into the forest.’

‘Aimlessly,’ Twilight repeated tersely.

‘Hell no. I figured if there was trouble around then those two’d run straight for it, so we dashed at top speed for the strongest source of dark magic I could find.’

‘You what?!’ Hyrule sputtered.

‘“Dark magic”?’ Twilight repeated in parallel.

‘“We”?’ Wild observed.

‘Oh, yeah. Green’s here too,’ Legend added.

‘Hi,’ said Green.

‘Fucker ran after me,’ Legend complained. ‘Think his boots might be even faster than mine. Lucky his legs are short enough to even that out.’

‘Fuck you, you five-foot hinox.’

‘Eat shit, you four-foot leever.’

‘Oh, and by the way: Wind’s definitely out for vengeance. Just so you know,’ Green remarked unconcernedly.

‘Fair,’ sighed Legend. ‘Tell him he can borrow one of my items all day tomorrow if he plays nice on the pranks? I might’ve overdone it a bit this time to be hon–’

‘Legend, where are you right now?’ Twilight pressed impatiently.

‘Hell if I know; not my Hyrule. Green mentioned that these creepy-arse ruins look oddly familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it either. Might be a useful lead, actually, seeing as how it’s fucking monster central over here. We were about to try sneaking in when you contacted us earlier, but I figured we should get ourselves somewhere vaguely secure before calling back. Honestly, it’s still a bit risky to talk, so if you’re all safe then Green and I are Totem Time-ing the fuck out of here. Meet you at the village, ok? Try to stay out of trouble on the way back. Later.’

Hyrule felt his blood boil. ‘“Try to stay out of trouble”?! Legend, you absolute hypocrite, where –?!’

‘He, uh, already ended the call, I think,’ Wild said meekly, pointing to the blank screen of the Sheikah Slate. ‘Sorry.’

Hyrule immediately swivelled to face Twilight. ‘Can you – I mean, can Wolfie –?!’

‘Wolfie’s senses are quite short-range,’ Twilight replied uncomfortably. ‘He can follow a trail well enough if he has a good starting position, but if we’re not on their path then those senses won’t help at all. And if we were in their path, then we surely would’ve noticed already.’ He paused contemplatively. ‘What about you, ’Rule? Do you know what Legend meant about a strong source of dark magic? Is that something you can sense?’

‘I… no,’ Hyrule admitted shamefully. ‘I’m not as good as Legend at that sort of thing. I can tell that there’s powerful magic somewhere near us, but the exact location is…’

‘Then what about the “creepy-arse ruins” part?’ Wild suggested as Hyrule trailed off. ‘Twi, do you know what Legend meant by that?’

‘There are a few places he could have meant,’ Twilight said unhappily. ‘I could guess, but if I got it wrong then we’d lose a lot of time… it’d get dark, too… and not to mention the fact that I’ve never actually gotten to the place without a guide…’ He sighed, and regretfully concluded, ‘Nothing for it: let’s head back to the village for now.’

Hyrule looked at him incredulously. ‘But they’re in danger! Didn’t you hear what he was saying? “Monster central”? That it was risky to even talk?!’

‘All the more reason for us not to kick the hornets’ nest,’ Twilight pointed out, not unsympathetically. ‘Legend has a good head on his shoulders – at least when he’s not running recklessly into danger – and he’s the most experienced out of all of us. Green’s no slacker either, without even mentioning the mental link he has back to the others in the village. Which we don’t have, out here, by the way. Give it an hour or so, or even half of that, and if we haven’t heard back, Wild can contact those two again. If they’re still in a dangerous situation at that point, either they can tell us where to go, or we can ask at the village, or I can call Wolfie to help search.’

Hyrule scowled uncharitably, deeply tempted to call Twilight out right then and there on “Wolfie”’s true identity, no matter how cagey the older hero may be about this most ineptly-kept of secrets. With effort, he reined himself in, shoulders slumping as he failed to locate any flaws in Twilight’s logic. ‘Fine,’ he said tightly. ‘Then let’s hurry and get back there.’

It seemed, for the moment, that there was nothing more they could do.

The sun was well and truly setting by the time they finally arrived at the village.

‘Tell me… do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?’ Rusl had once asked. ‘They say it’s the only time when our world intersects with theirs… the only time we can feel the lingering regrets of spirits who have left our world. That is why loneliness always pervades the hour of twilight.’

‘There you dumbasses are,’ was Legend’s slightly less poetic assessment of said hour.

He and Green were seated comfortably to one end of the banquet table furthest from Twilight’s parents’ house, each looking a little tired and dishevelled but seemingly unharmed. As if to correct that fault, Hyrule trembled indecisively for a moment and then ran in to tackle his predecessor in a motion somewhere between a hug and one of Mayor Bo’s most devastating sumo wrestling moves.

Seated at Legend’s other side, Warriors scoffed and ruffled the small amount of pink-tinged blonde hair he could reach. ‘’S if you’re not the biggest dumbass of them all,’ he accused with a tone of amusement that was just slightly off the mark. A muffled retort and a middle finger flip emerged from the cuddle pile-on.

‘Yes, yes. You’re all dumbasses,’ Time contributed wearily from the second table, spoon toying restlessly with the contents of a bowl laid before him. ‘I think we’ve been made quite aware of that fact today. And I do hope we are done for today?’

‘Wow. Better be, if the old man’s resorted to that kind of language,’ Wind remarked.

‘Damn right I’m old. I’m way too old for this shit,’ the thirty-something-year-old muttered to himself. ‘Sit down, please.’

Leaving Hyrule and Wild to sort themselves out, Twilight headed over to join his adopted family at the other end of the far table, offering greetings, hugs, shoulder pats and gentle lifts as appropriate (and wow: his younger siblings really had grown, hadn’t they? Colin was almost eye to eye with him, and baby Roxanne had somehow already reached his hip!).

‘Must you worry us like this?’ Uli murmured, holding him close for a few extra moments before giving his hair a gentle flick. ‘You only just got home, and here you are running off into the forest after lost kids all over again!’

His lips twitched as he fought off a smile. ‘Sorry, Mum. Old habits die hard.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Fine. Then let me get you and your new baby brothers some dinner.’ She gestured to the plates and bowls already laid out before most of the others. ‘We made pumpkin and venison stew, and some nice fresh bread to go with it. You just sit down while I take care of things, ok?’

‘I’ll help!’ Wind chirped, following Uli back into the house with foreboding cheer.

Twilight took a seat close to Time, leaning back in his chair to ask, ‘He’s gonna prank us, isn’t he?’

‘Oh, definitely,’ Time agreed flatly. ‘Well, you might be off the hook at least, especially if your mother is supervising. Green too, maybe. The others? Not a chance.’

‘Why the fuck is Green off the hook?’ Legend complained.

‘Because I did nothing wrong?’ Green offered.

‘Fuck off. No one asked you to run after me.’

Green looked at him incredulously. ‘Wind did.’

‘Huh?’ said Legend, clearly baffled. ‘When and why was this?’

Time’s expression tightened. ‘Well, you’re a clever young man, I’m sure we can pull together a few ideas based on the evidence at hand.’ His scooted his chair a little closer and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, placing it in front of Legend. Twilight leaned in to watch.

‘We’ll begin with Exhibit A, retrieved from Twilight’s house about three hours ago,’ Time began, pointing to the note authored, according to its untidy scrawl, by Hyrule: Gone adventuring, it read. Back later today. Love, Hyrule and Wild. 🖤

‘Exhibit B,’ Time added, shifting his finger down to the next message: Gone to find Hyrule and Wild. Back later today. Love, Wind and Green. 🖤🖤🖤

‘Exhibit C.’ A hastily scrawled addendum towards the bottom of the page: Update: H&W still missing, W&G heading back 2 village. Will ask Twilight 4 help/advice. -Wind

‘Exhibit D,’ Time concluded, pointing directly at Legend.

‘Me? Why am I an exhibit?’ he complained.

‘You didn’t leave a note, so it’s not as if I have anything else to point at,’ Time stated frostily.

‘Well, I told Wind where I was going, didn’t I?’ Legend challenged. ‘Plus Green was giving updates the whole time we were gone, right?’

‘Good thing I ran after you, then,’ Green noted.

Time glared fiercely at Legend. ‘Sure is, isn’t it? I’m glad someone was there to act like a fucking adult. So, here’s what I suggest: first, we all eat dinner, and you enjoy every damn bite of whatever unholy concoction Wind prepares for you. Second, Twilight gets to enjoy a nice evening with his family, and then once he calls it quit for the night, we can all discuss plans for tomorrow at his house. Third: if, at that stage, I’m still pissed off at you and you still haven’t figured out why, then I’ll happily explain it. In excruciating detail. How’s that sound?’

‘…Fine, I guess,’ Legend replied quietly, cowed by the dreaded Disapproving Dad Face.

‘Good. Then eat your damn stew,’ Time retorted, right as the bowl was set down before the veteran hero.

‘Enjoy!’ Wind said cheerfully, setting the second bowl down in front of Hyrule before skipping back to collect servings for Wild and Green. Uli herself brought Twilight’s bowl out with an impish smile and a scattering of coriander on top. For the sake of good sport, he made a face at her, carefully fished the herbs out onto a bread plate and then scraped it off into Colin’s half-empty bowl in one swift movement.

‘Li-i-i-ink,’ his younger brother complained, giving him a half-hearted shove in response. Ever mature, Twilight stuck his tongue out, then cautiously tasted the remaining stew in his bowl. Other than the slight hint of soapy herbs, his favourite dish was just as delicious as he remembered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Legend reluctantly lift a spoonful of his own meal. ‘Hmm… bit spicy, bit salty, but not too bad,’ he remarked. ‘Guess the kid went easy this t–’ He choked, face paling. ‘Oh. Oh, the aftertaste is not good.’

‘No, I imagine not,’ Wind agreed, fiddling ostentatiously with his crystal pendant. ‘Well, eat up. And let me know if you want another serving. You’ll wanna keep your strength for laundry duty later: just wait ’til you see how much chu jelly I put in your bedroll.’

‘Shit, you’re a brat,’ Legend said, tone vaguely impressed.

‘Wow, it’s almost as if actions have consequences.’

‘Almost, yeah.’

And, as the grimacing veteran hero valiantly scooped up another mouthful, Twilight firmly reminded himself to never, ever cross the Hero of Winds.

Chapter Text

Eight companions. There had been eleven earlier, but Four had merged shortly after Twilight, Hyrule and Wild had returned, so that made eight.

Time wasn’t quite sure how many iterations of his usual headcount he’d run that evening, but probably at least one or two in excess of a reasonable amount if the sympathetic glances from Sky and gentle nudges from Warriors were any indication. With that tipping point behind them, Time mused, what difference would one more check really make?

He counted those two first: the former seated opposite him, looking a little smaller than usual without the sailcloth around his shoulders, the latter pressed close enough to his right side that, even with his blind spot, Time didn’t need to turn to know he was there. If it had been anyone he trusted less, Time might have found that closeness a little stifling; instead, he drew an embarrassing amount of comfort from that familiar presence.

The third, by virtue of proximity, was sprawled over the table in a way that might have been concerning if Time hadn’t been able to see the steady rise and fall of his chest – or, indeed, if Four hadn’t looked so very cosy with Sky’s sailcloth tucked around him and Warriors’s scarf neatly folded beneath his head. He had managed a few bites of dinner at least, but no more than that before (with a brief yet deeply appreciated warning) succumbing to the exhaustion that was apparently typical to strenuous use of the Four Sword’s power. Later, Time would need to find out why this particular occasion met that criterion. For now, Four was safe, and that was what mattered.

Time shifted his gaze behind and to the left, expression softening at the sight of Twilight gently bouncing his younger sister in his lap, one arm carefully braced against her middle to protect her from falling. Dear Malon. When Twilight smiled like that, the family resemblance really was unmistakeable, even with the many years that had passed between them.

Last, unable to quite resist, Time chanced another quick look towards the remaining four, finally drawing enough attention to win a gentle elbow in the side and a whispered chiding from Warriors. It was worth it: there was his complete eight, all present and accounted for. Hyrule, ears still a little red with mortification either from the octo balloon someone (admittedly Time, but it had been Wind’s idea) had slipped beneath his seat cushion, or from Legend’s less than successful attempt to stifle a laugh in response. Beside Hyrule, Legend himself, still complaining loudly and dramatically about whatever prank Wind had played on his meal – perhaps overdoing it a little in the interest of good sportsmanship. Wild, on the other side of the table, grinning maliciously as only a yet-to-be-prankee could, and finally Wind, whose cheerful poker face had only just started to relax into something more genuine. Headcount complete, Time breathed out the last of that latest surge of terror and felt anger stream back in on the inhale.

Malon save them all. From themselves, if necessary, from the gods and their schemes, since that clearly was, and certainly from Time and the three hundred and sixty or so degrees of murder that he was carefully restraining himself from committing.

It had been only that very afternoon. Standing there in the warm autumn sunlight, smiling proudly down at the young man dutifully shovelling hay at his side (maybe complaining a little, or a lot, but still working hard). Discussing goats and sheep, orchards and apiaries, beloved wives and strictly-for-legal-purposes husbands, estranged sisters, uncles that hadn’t been seen in years, near brushes with death and fragile hopes for the future –

‘The fuck even is baba root extract?’ Legend complained loudly, and, despite himself, Time stealthily turned his attention that way once more. ‘Wind, are you sure this shit isn’t poisonous?’

‘Would I poison you?’ Wind asked rhetorically, and swiftly rhetorically answered, ‘Nope. If anything, it’s the opposite. Like a nice little herbal bath for your guts, which, depending on the dosage, may or may not also make you vomit. Bought it from the Forest Haven potion shop a while back. Useful shit, even if the flavour’s a little interesting.’

‘Oh,’ said Hyrule, seemingly coming to a realisation. ‘Baba root extract. Thought I’d heard of… uh, maybe stop eating that, Lege? You can have the rest of my meal instead?’

‘Huh? So, Wind…? Good kid. Forget it: I’m not wasting food and you’re not going hungry,’ Legend huffed. ‘Finish that and then go get seconds; you’re still way too thin and Uli said there’s plenty left in the pot. Speaking of: Wind, quit playing with your food and eat it already, and Wild – hey! Give that back!’

‘Not the best thing I’ve tasted, but not the worst either,’ Wild remarked, obnoxiously smacking his lips.

‘Yeah, it’s pretty diluted,’ Wind agreed. ‘If you ever get yourself poisoned badly enough, I’ll give you the undiluted version.’

‘Hmm. Tempting.’

‘No! Not tempting! Wind, stop giving that dumbass ideas!’

Time shuddered, looking away once more. Poison, huh? That’d be just their luck, wouldn’t it? When it came to poisons and illnesses, potions could help a little but not a lot. Hyrule’s magic seemed to function more or less the same way. Come to think of it, hadn’t Twilight mentioned poisoned fog nearby? Time should have asked more questions, should have been more prepared…

Warriors elbowed him again, jolting him from his reverie. Grumpily, he asked, ‘What? What is it?’

Warriors raised an eyebrow. ‘Uli wants to know if you’d like seconds.’

‘Ah.’ Time looked down at his empty bowl (when had that happened?), then over at Twilight’s mother. ‘No, that’s fine, but thank you very much for your hospitality,’ he said. ‘I know we all dropped in rather suddenly.’

‘No need to be shy, dear,’ Uli chastised. ‘A warm meal is the least my husband and I can offer to those taking such good care of our son.’

Time blinked, thrown first by the address and secondly by the compliment. ‘That’s… very kind of you?’ he managed eventually. ‘If anything, seems to me it’s been the other way around.’ He regained a little of his composure as he added sincerely, ‘The two of you truly raised a very good man. I’m honoured to know him. I’m sure I’ve depended on him much more than he’s depended on me, all told.’

Twilight flushed. ‘That’s nonsense and you know it, old man.’

Time shook his head. ‘No need to humble yourself, pup. Credit where credit’s due.’ He hesitated to say more, gaze shifting to each of Twilight’s parents in turn before it settled on Four, still peacefully snoozing next to Sky. It was as good an excuse as any. ‘I’m sure you all have a lot to catch up on, so I might actually head back now if you don’t mind. It doesn’t look like Four will be waking up anytime soon, and I’m sure he’d rather rest somewhere a little more comfortable.’

‘You’re leaving already?’ Twilight’s father asked, sounding oddly disappointed. ‘I won’t keep you, but I hope you’ll stop by again before you all head off. My son speaks very highly of you, after all.’

Time looked over at the son in question, who studiously avoided his gaze. ‘What? What’s the big deal?’ Twilight grumbled. ‘Sure, so I bragged a little about you to my boyfriend and in my letters home. Credit where credit’s due, right?’

Bragged.

Twilight bragged a little.

About him.

Time’s brain promptly short-circuited.

‘Erm… you ok?’ Twilight asked apprehensively. ‘You’re just kinda… staring…’

‘Hmm… he’s a little young for it, but I’m pretty sure that’s a “proud Dad moment” right there,’ Uli remarked. She elbowed her husband. ‘Might have some competition, honey.’

Rusl shrugged. ‘Link has two hands.’

‘…Do I not get either of them?’

‘C’mon, sweetie, you know what I mean.’

With perhaps slightly less grace than the act demanded, Time made his way over to Four’s side of the table, carefully lifting the slumbering hero into a cradle hold. ‘I should get going,’ he said hastily. ‘Thank you once again. Have a lovely evening, all of you.’

‘Oh, hold on!’ Twilight said quickly. ‘I’ll walk you back; let me just –’ The child on his lap let out a disgruntled shriek at the attempted dislodgement, seizing Twilight’s shirt in a death grip.

‘I think that’s a “no” from the young lady,’ Time remarked politely.

‘A firm negative, without room for rebuttal,’ Warriors agreed. He rose to his feet, stretched and strode casually over to Time’s side. ‘Catch you later, Twi, and thank you once again for the lovely meal, good sir and madam. Hate to dine and dash, but I better make sure this poor fellow doesn’t stumble off into a ditch or anything.’

Irked, Time replied, ‘I’m perfectly capable of –’

Unperturbed, Warriors continued, ‘Keep an eye on the kiddos while we’re gone, alright Sky?’ To emphasise his point, he reached over to ruffle Legend’s hair, knocking his cap loose and drawing forth a loud yelp of protest. ‘Don’t stay up too late,’ he advised.

‘Fuck off already,’ Legend retorted.

‘Love you too, vet. C’mon, Time.’

It was about that moment that Time realised that leaving meant being unable to keep an eye on “the kiddos” himself. He wavered, glancing from person to person once again, but when Warriors completed his farewells and began to stride away, Time forced himself to follow.

Sound quickly faded away as they wove their way through the village and back towards Twilight’s house. Time didn’t bother to fill the silence, and, surprisingly, Warriors let him stew in it. It was only after they’d arrived and settled Four into bed that Time felt that insistent hand tap his shoulder.

Time exhaled. ‘Get it over with, then,’ he said sullenly.

Permission granted, Warriors swivelled Time to face him, paused contemplatively, and then proceeded to boop him on the nose.

Time blinked. ‘With deep respect, Captain,’ he replied, ‘what the actual fuck?’

Warriors snorted. ‘Sorry. Couldn’t resist. You just… the way you looked just then really reminded me of… ah, never mind. Alright, old man. I’ll bite: what exactly do you want me to get over with?’

‘Some kind of lecture, presumably?’ said Time. ‘Not like I haven’t earned it. Yes, I messed up, yes, I almost got several people killed, yes, I shouldn’t have taken that frustration out on the others, yes, it probably would have been more constructive to comfort Wind properly rather than help him plot and execute several revenge pranks, including hiding all of Wild’s spoons and ladles and replacing them with sticks, and especially including all the chu jelly we put in Legend’s bedroll –’

‘That’s what that is, huh?’ Warriors remarked, glancing over at the bedroll in question, innocently draped over the living room floor.

Time nodded distractedly. ‘Still in globule form, so if he’s careful he should be able to remove it without too much mess, but yes it was immature, yes, I should have done better, yes, my wife would be furious if she knew, and, importantly, yes, I already know all of this. Thus why I’m over here cooling down, instead of being over there committing three hundred and sixty degrees of murder.’

Warriors hummed. ‘That’s a lot of degrees of murder to not commit,’ he commented. ‘What comes after manslaughter, anyway?’

‘Believe it or not, I never went to law school,’ Time announced.

‘Duly noted. Though, honestly: if I haven’t killed Legend yet, it’s hard to imagine you doing it.’ Warriors paused, thinking to himself. ‘Well, I’m not going to lecture you, but I do have a question.’

Time scowled. ‘Fine. Shoot.’

‘Why is it you’re taking this particular case so badly?’ Warriors asked. ‘I mean, the whole “I almost got several people killed” thing – where did that come from? It’s not the first time Hyrule’s wandered off, Wild’s failed to communicate, Twi’s gone solo, Legend’s been a reckless dumbass or Four’s been roped into said reckless dumbassery. I can give you several examples of each of those in just the past week alone. Sure, it’s not ideal, but they’re all seasoned adventurers who know what they’re doing, and –’

‘But they’re not,’ Time interrupted. ‘Not when it comes to these woods at least… or if they are, then…’ He shuddered. ‘Oh, Malon, if they are, then that’s so much worse, I don’t even want to think… Legend – he just charged off like that, it was so quick that I couldn’t even… and after he said all that earlier about doing his best to survive, turns out that when push comes to shove there’s not even a single braincell of self-preservation stored in that head of his, and I –’ Time cut himself off. ‘We need to talk safety. Should have done it last night, I should have realised –’

Warriors gripped his shoulders firmly. ‘Hey. Enough.’ Time looked up and saw his companion’s expression soften with compassion. With a brief pause to telegraph the movement, Warriors tugged him into a firm embrace. ‘It’s ok,’ he murmured soothingly. ‘No one’s hurt. Plenty of opportunity to give them a piece of your mind later, if you want.’

Time made a half-hearted attempt to push away, giving up and relaxing into those familiar, warm, dependable arms mere moments later. ‘Malon’d be pissed off if she knew,’ he mumbled guiltily. ‘Told me to look after all of you, you know? You shouldn’t be stuck looking after me.’

Warriors chuckled. ‘Well, if she’s anywhere near as sappy for you as you are for her, I’m sure she’ll let it slide. Everyone needs help sometimes, you know? Besides: wasn’t your wife supposed to be some sort of benevolent goddess overflowing with kindness and goodness and beauty? Wasn’t that what you said, more or less?’

‘Sure,’ Time agreed (what? It was the truth; sue him), ‘but she’s also overflowing with the power to deadlift a fully-grown adult and throw them into the manure pile twenty metres away. Hasn’t happened to me yet, but this one time a bunch of bandits tried to break into the ranch, and –’

Warriors only laughed harder. ‘Guess I’m not surprised.’ He patted Time on the back once more, and then carefully withdrew. ‘Seeing as how we’re all still alive and safe, I don’t think she has much to complain about on that front. But you know what she is going to be upset about?’ Warriors flicked his nose. ‘All this foul language of yours.’

‘…Huh?’

Warriors ticked it off on his fingers. ‘Just now, you said Malon would be “pissed off”. Earlier, you told Legend to “act like a fucking adult”. Even dropped a nasty little f bomb on poor, impressionable me, when all I did was poke you lightly on the nose! What on earth would your dear wife say?’

‘Tell her and I’ll make it look like an accident,’ Time said flatly.

‘Ooh, now I’m scared,’ Warriors mocked. ‘You know you’re going to have to dig yourself out of the manure pile first, right?’

‘Hmm… guess I will,’ Time allowed. Solemnly, he reached for his wallet, opened it up, and produced a small, well-loved pictograph of the only goddess he would ever worship. ‘I’m very sorry, my dearest,’ he told her. ‘Do you think you can find it in your heart to forgive me?’

The picture was swiftly plucked from his hand and left to dangle in front of Warriors’s face. ‘I forgive you dear,’ a falsetto voice screeched, ‘but only because you’re so cute. Mwah.’

Time made a face. ‘Gross. Sounds nothing like her.’

Warriors pouted, but dutifully returned the pictograph. ‘Well, you can’t say I didn’t try.’

‘You didn’t try,’ Time said flatly.

His composure lasted a full three seconds before both he and Warriors erupted into laughter, only stopping when a light murmur from Four caught their attention. Both of them waited, still and silent, but Four merely shifted positions slightly before going limp once more.

‘Is he alright, do you think?’ Time asked quietly. ‘Should we try to wake him? Give him a potion or something?’

‘If it’s just exhaustion, sleep really is the best cure,’ Warriors said decisively. ‘His breathing and pulse seem normal enough, though Vio mentioned feeling a little dizzy and disoriented earlier. I’m not sure if that translates to any illness on Four’s part. We’ll have to ask for the details later.’

‘It’s the nature of the Lost Woods, I think,’ Time said reluctantly. ‘As the name suggests, they’re a navigational nightmare, and since Four’s… “pieces”, I guess, can track each other through their mental link… I can only imagine how confusing that would have been. Very useful, of course. Green and Legend ended up pretty deep into the woods this time, I think, so if they hadn’t been able to sense the way back…’

Time’s voice wobbled as it trailed off. Gently, Warriors asked, ‘You know where they ended up?’

‘I think so,’ said Time. ‘Based on what they described, at least. A grassy meadow and an old, crumbling temple, deep within the woods. But… it’s strange. If it is the place I’m thinking of, Legend shouldn’t have been able to sense dark magic there, not within this timeline at least. That is, while I don’t know exactly what sort of events have taken place between my era and Twilight’s, if the location is what I think…’ Time grimaced. ‘The Lost Woods in general are not a safe place to wander, but there are a few spots I would call oases. One of them is my childhood home, Kokiri Forest. The other is the Sacred Meadow, within the Forest of Light.’

‘Of course.’

The sudden exclamation cut through the air, and Time and Warriors turned to see Four slowly lifting himself out of bed.

‘Alright over there, Four?’ Warriors called. ‘Sorry if we woke you.’

‘Don’t be – I’m the one who should apologise. Thanks for bringing me back,’ Four said, punctuating his words with another yawn. ‘Putting that aside for the moment: you called it the Forest of Light, didn’t you? I thought I’d seen that spot before, but I couldn’t quite place it. Now I remember: I was sent there during my third quest. Can’t believe I forgot.’ He grimaced. ‘I can probably hazard a guess at why Legend sensed dark magic that way, but if I’m right… urgh, this might get messy. I mean, not that the whole bunch of us aren’t already enough of a walking paradox, but this is the kind of thing that makes me wonder…’

Time could sense an oncoming headache. ‘Mind if I make tea first?’ he suggested.

‘No rush,’ Four said regretfully. ‘This one might take a while.’

Silent as a thief, Twilight carefully eased his front door ajar and peered through the gap, awkwardly balancing an oversized hamper against his hip with the other arm.

He found Time, Warriors and Four all seated together at his small dining table, each with a steaming mug before them. ‘What do you mean you can’t speak to the exact mechanics of time paradoxes?’ Four was asking irritably. ‘You’re the Hero of Time.’

‘Indeed. And, in case this was not already clear, I have spent a really rather significant portion of my career with little, if any, clue as to what I’m doing,’ Time said unnecessarily frankly. He turned his head towards the doorway and added, ‘Pup? Is that you?’

Cover blown, Twilight sheepishly eased the door the rest of the way open and waved with his free hand. ‘Yep. The others are here too. Sorry we took so long. Everyone, come in and make yourselves comfortable.’ He then made a first attempt to enter the dwelling, clumsily banged the hamper against the doorframe, and then made a slightly more graceful second attempt aided by Time.

‘Thanks,’ Twilight said gratefully. ‘These are pumpkin scones, by the way. If you want one now let me know, otherwise I’ll drop them in the kitchen for breakfast tomorrow. And probably every other breakfast for the next week too, if I’m honest; my parents might’ve gone a little overboard.’

Time huffed out a laugh, following him to the kitchen and helping him clear some bench space. ‘Country hospitality. Good to see some things don’t change,’ he said wryly. ‘You actually returned much earlier than I expected. I hope you didn’t hurry back on our behalf?’

‘Not at all. Nice to see my family and all, but I think I’m about socialised out for the evening,’ Twilight confessed. ‘I might have used you as an excuse to escape. Hope you don’t mind the slander.’

‘Happy to help, slander or no.’

With the hamper finally out of the way, Twilight carefully eyed his mentor. Time had always been a little difficult for him to read, but it would have been equally hard to miss either the simmering agitation from earlier or its absence upon their return. Twilight felt something in himself loosen at the sight. ‘How about you?’ he asked, just in case. ‘Doing ok?’

Time snorted and gently ruffled his hair. ‘I’m fine, pup. Haven’t fallen so far that I need my own descendant to worry about me.’

Twilight might regret admitting to that just a little. Never mind that Time had figured it out beforehand. Never mind whatever Uli had been saying about a “proud Dad moment”. ‘Fine,’ he huffed. ‘Forgive me for trying to preserve my ancestor’s position in the time space continuum. Speaking of which: what was that about time paradoxes?’

Time grimaced. ‘Long story. Which we’ll probably have to delve into, now that everyone’s here. Get comfortable. And would you like some tea? Assuming you don’t mind me dipping into your supply?’

‘Country hospitality,’ Twilight shot back. ‘My pantry and all its contents are yours.’ Giving his mentor an obnoxious shoulder pat, he grabbed a pitcher, filled it with water and headed for the hearth, casting his eyes around the room along the way. Affection surged in him at the sight of the several precious new additions to his family fitting comfortably into his home.

Hyrule had joined Warriors and Four at the dining table, full medic-mode in place as he scrutinised the latter. A little further away, Legend sat cross-legged on the floor, painstakingly extracting fragile globules of jelly out of his bedroll and into a bucket while a sheepish Wind and deeply amused Sky lounged nearby and offered suggestions. The last of Twilight’s guests hovered near his bookshelf, fiddling anxiously with the hem of his tunic. After watching for a few seconds more, Twilight swiftly filled the cauldron with water, set it above the fire, and headed over.

‘Need any help, cub?’ he asked.

Wild made a face. ‘Still with the nickname? It’s not gonna stick, you know.’

Well, it was definitely going to stick now, if Twilight had anything to do with that. ‘Whatever you say, cub. In any case: don’t be shy if you want something. Here, I’ve got novels on the top two shelves and non-fiction on the bottom one.’ He indicated to each. ‘Grab whatever you like, and feel free to take it with you if you don’t finish before we leave. I honestly don’t read all that much these days anyway. There’s also a cookbook in the kitchen, but that one can’t leave the house; it’s a hand-me-down, and Uli’d kill me if either of us got it covered in monster blood or stuck in another dimension. Anything in particular you’re after?’

Wild’s face brightened. Eagerly, he asked, ‘An atlas? Or any history books? The cookbook sounds good too, if I can maybe take photos of the pages. I’m always keen to try new recipes.’

Twilight grinned, pulling a few books out and dropping them into Wild’s waiting hands. ‘All yours. The cookbook is on the shelf near the stove. Mind you, don’t get too deep into the books right now; we still need to discuss plans for tomorrow.’

Wild nodded absently and wandered back to the others, eyes already glued to the slightly yellowed pages of Twilight’s atlas. Twilight chucked fondly and ambled after him.

In relatively short order, everyone was gathered, the tea was brewed and a ceasefire was called over the budding chu jelly fight. Time called the meeting to order with a sharp whistle and a brief wave.

‘Alright,’ he said. ‘Two items to discuss: one from me, one from Four. Four, could you maybe start by explaining what you and Legend found?’

‘Huh? Me? Alright then,’ said Four. He coughed lightly. ‘So, uh. As you know, Legend and Gr– Legend and I went for a bit of an adventure earlier today, and… coincidentally found a whole bunch of monsters. Hard to say how many; visibility was tough and we tried not to get too close, but I spotted at least five moblins, plus a whole bunch of smaller monsters. The location is pretty deep within the Lost Woods, which probably explains why no rumours have made it back to the village yet. Still, I figure that’s our goal or at least worth a look, unless anyone has any better ideas?’

‘No better ideas, but I do have a question,’ said Twilight. ‘Are you actually going to be able to find the place again? I mean, they’re called the Lost Woods for a reason. I know this is my world and all, but navigating this particular region is more or less beyond my own skills.’

‘That won’t be a problem,’ Legend assured. ‘I may not be familiar with this specific version of the Lost Woods in this specific location, but I’ve spent enough time in similar places to get a feel for it. Not to mention, I can still sense that powerful source of dark magic, even from here, and with a beacon like that –’

‘Actually, it will be a problem,’ Time interjected severely. ‘I –’ He paused to steady himself. ‘Legend, I don’t know where all that confidence comes from, but I’ve been travelling in and out of these woods for longer than you’ve been alive, and I really think you’re underestimating them. For my sake, and for your own, please: take them seriously.’

Legend slouched in on himself as Time spoke, and Hyrule bristled in response. ‘Don’t you think you’re being a bit unfair?’ the latter demanded. ‘He might be younger than you, and I’m not saying he isn’t a reckless dumbass or anything, ’cause he is –’

‘Ouch,’ said Legend.

‘– But Legend’s spent plenty of time in the Lost Woods,’ Hyrule insisted. ‘On two different quests, right? Not to mention similar places in Holodrum and Labrynna. Even I – I mean, I don’t claim to have much in the way of experience, but even I’ve travelled through the Lost Woods in the past, and –’

‘Enough, Roolie. ’S not even the same Lost Woods in our timeline, remember?’ Legend murmured – quietly enough that Twilight wasn’t sure if he intended the others to hear. ‘We’re in Faron right now. Long story.’ With a rueful sigh, he lifted his eyes and said, ‘Yeah, ok. My bad. Fill us all in then?’

Hyrule looked dissatisfied, but Time seemed to relax a little. ‘The Lost Woods are dangerous for a few different reasons,’ he began. ‘The first is what Twilight mentioned: navigation. Standard equipment won’t work; even walking in a straight line won’t work, not with how the forest twists every path. Ideally, we find a trustworthy guide. Short of that, it is indeed possible to sense the way ahead if you’re careful, whether it’s that “beacon” you mentioned, the connection Four shares while he’s split, or even the sounds and sights of the forest if you’re sensitive enough to them.

‘But then comes the second problem: the woods like to play tricks on your senses, and they also like to trip you up. Lose focus for even an instant and you’ll be swept away. At that point, if you lose track of the way forwards… well, the best-case scenario is that you find some way of the forest – but that path might not lead back to Ordon, or to anywhere within the Faron region. It might lead to another part of Hyrule, it might lead to a totally different world, it might even lead to a totally different era. If that happens, who knows when or if we’ll ever meet again.’

‘Huh. If that’s the best case, what’s the worst?’ Legend asked sardonically.

Time met his gaze steadily. ‘The worst case is that you don’t find some way out of the forest. That you get stuck in the woods forever. And I do mean forever, not just until death. These woods aren’t exactly the most restful of burial grounds. Presumably, you’d still like to reincarnate at some point?’

He cast a meaningful glance at Hyrule, who folded his arms and glared back. Twilight dropped his own gaze to the floor, doing his best not to think too hard about a certain skeletal apparition encountered near the boundary line of the Lost Woods.

‘Wow. Morbid,’ he heard Legend say, followed by a quieter, ‘Point taken.’

Twilight looked up and saw Time give an unrepentant shrug. ‘And that makes the third reason these woods are dangerous,’ he continued. ‘If we’re lucky, or if we’re particularly unlucky, we might meet some of the lost ones. Hard to say if they’ll help or hinder us. They tend to be much friendlier to children than to adults, but treat them kindly and with respect and perhaps they’ll do the same.

‘We are here on a mission, and it doesn’t seem like we’ll have much choice other than to enter the woods. That doesn’t mean we need to act recklessly. Take care, stay focused, stick together. I know this all sounds harsh, but please understand: there is real danger here. You can all get up to shenanigans once we’re somewhere safer.’ He paused to reconsider. ‘Uh… shenanigans within reason, preferably. But I hope I’ve made my point?’

A chorus of agreement echoed back, and Twilight saw his mentor relax a little further.

‘Alright then,’ Time sighed. ‘That’s my item handled. Over to Four for agenda item two.’

‘Wait, there’s more?’ Legend said sharply.

‘Mmm… yeah. About that,’ Four said sheepishly. ‘You know how I said I thought the area looked familiar?’

Several unimpressed faces gazed back at him.

‘Time shenanigans,’ he clarified.

With a remarkably swift recovery, Time asked, ‘Me? What did I do?’

‘The abstract singular common noun followed by the abstract plural common noun,’ Four said patiently. ‘That is what I am referring to when I say “time shenanigans”.’

‘Those sure are some words,’ said Time, having been raised by several eternal children and a tree.

‘They sure are,’ Twilight agreed, having been home-schooled in far more useful topics.

‘I mean, not that you’re technically wrong or anything,’ Wild contributed, ‘but “abstract singular common noun followed by abstract plural common noun” is an odd way of describing what is, in fact, a compound noun. Not to mention how it’s arguably a concrete noun in the current context.’

Four bristled. ‘It’s clearly abstract, and by definition a compound noun is comprised of two or more –’

‘Can we stay on track, maybe?’ Warriors proposed wearily.

‘Fine,’ Four conceded. ‘So, Wild being full of shit aside, my third quest was the one with the lowercase time shenanigans. From speaking with Wars earlier, it probably takes place sometime between Twi’s era and his, which was about seven hundred years in the future for me. The Zelda of that era had a priestess summon me from the past to check on the seal of the Four Sword sanctuary – a seal I originally put in place. Not that Vaati ended up being the real problem, but I suppose she couldn’t have known that.

‘Thing is, there’s certain… conditions that had to be in place for that third quest to occur. One of which is probably the source of all that dark magic Legend sensed earlier today. So, on the one hand, I don’t know if rupturing the time space continuum is a good idea or anything, but on the other hand…’ He sighed. ‘I mean… that whole quest was one giant mess. A lot of good people got hurt, and I’m not even convinced that my involvement made things better in the end. In some ways, it might’ve made them worse. I just can’t help but think… if the Mirror of Twilight really is still in the temple during this era, it doesn’t feel right to just leave it there, knowing –’

There was probably more to it than that, but Twilight’s attention stalled mid-sentence, mind going blank as a chill crept up his spine. ‘What was that?’ he heard himself ask.

Several eyes turned on him. He ignored all of them except for Four’s. ‘The Mirror was destroyed,’ Twilight said distantly. ‘Years ago. What you’re saying isn’t possible.’

‘I…’ Four began hesitantly. He glanced at Warriors, then back to Twilight. ‘Well, I don’t know the specifics, but it was definitely there at the time. I heard that the mirror was originally supposed to be located in a temple within the Lost Woods, but shortly before my quest, Ganon took it and –’

‘Ganon?’ Hyrule cut in. ‘But that isn’t possible either, surely?’

Starting to look rather put out by all the interruptions, Four asked, ‘Why not?’

Hyrule turned to Twilight with an expectant expression. With steadily decreasing certainty, he confirmed, ‘Well… sure. It shouldn’t be possible. Ganon… Ganondorf, rather… is already dead in this era. Very dead. Leaving a corpse that we burned and buried. He was powerful, certainly, but he was only human in the end. Well, that’s what I’d thought before meeting all of you, but Time and I are hardly the only ones to have faced him from the sounds of things. If all of us get to reincarnate repeatedly and coincidentally share a name and coincidentally fight someone called Ganon… who knows. Starts feeling a bit less like a coincidence at that point, doesn’t it? Maybe I didn’t finish things as thoroughly as I could have, after all.’

Sky shifted restlessly. ‘What is this mirror you mentioned, anyway?’ he asked. ‘Why’s it so important?’

Twilight paused briefly, gathering his thoughts. ‘Long ago,’ he said haltingly, ‘a tribe of dark magic users attempted to seize hold of the Triforce. The light spirits sealed them away in another world, known as the Twilight Realm, with the Mirror of Twilight supposedly acting as the only remaining means of passage.

‘I don’t know exactly how much time has passed since then, but the original interlopers are long dead. Only their distant descendants remain. And yet, even after all that time, the Hyrulean Royal Family continued to use the Twilight Realm as a dumping ground for the worst of its criminals. One of those was the Ganondorf of Time’s era.

‘He’d been a fearsome sorcerer from the beginning, and the Triforce of Power amplified that. Once banished, Ganondorf bided his time, recovering his strength and manipulating a useful pawn to his will. Eventually, he was able to break the barrier between the two worlds, slowly merging them into one. Until I intervened.

‘As I said, Ganondorf is dead now. With his death, that magic faded and those portals closed – with the exception of the mirror itself. The cause of all their suffering and the only remaining threat to their peace… it’s understandable that Midna – the leader of the Twili – wanted it gone. Just how much were they supposed to pay for the crimes of their ancestors, anyway?’ It belatedly occurred to Twilight that no one had actually asked. ‘Ah. Sorry for rambling. Point is, the Mirror of Twilight shouldn’t actually exist within this era. It’s gone. It’s dust.’

A brief, contemplative silence settled over the room. Eventually, Legend spoke up. ‘Wars, what’s your take on this?’ he asked. ‘It’s your history, after all. Wasn’t that what Four said?’

Expression unreadable, Warriors replied, ‘My take is what I told Four. His third adventure takes place after Twilight’s first. So, either there were two mirrors in the first place, or –’

‘Or time shenanigans happened,’ Legend finished with a sigh.

Charitably, Time did not seize the opportunity to repeat his usual joke. Twilight might have slapped him (just a little) if he had.

‘Yeah. Considering how I ended up there in the first place, it’s not impossible,’ Four agreed ruefully. ‘Not to mention this.’ He picked up the sheathed weapon at his side and presented it to the group. ‘See, the truth is… this isn’t actually the Four Sword from my own era. It’s the one from the future. I had to borrow it during my quest, and I’d intended to leave it behind afterwards. I even put it back in the sanctuary – it was supposed to be sealing Ganon for fuck’s sake – but somehow it ended up coming back with me. And with no way to return to that era on my own… I don’t even know. This whole adventure we’re currently on happened long before I figured out what to do with it. Neither the Princess nor the Oracle ever contacted me again.’

‘The Oracle –?!’ Warriors started, whole body tensing for a moment. He cut off with a brief, humourless laugh. ‘Of course. Yeah. Figures. So, you never actually had the ability to manipulate time yourself, did you Four?’

Four shook his head. ‘It was all the Oracle of Ages. Lanayru, I think her name was? Zelda seemed to trust her, but…’

‘The Oracle of Ages?’ Legend asked sceptically. ‘That’s even stranger. If it’s anything like the Oracle from my era, she’s not supposed to interfere with the flow of time, except to the extent of cleaning up other interference. And even that –’

‘“Not supposed to” are the keywords there, of course,’ Warriors said tiredly. ‘From my own experience, those with the power to “interfere” are really rather fond of using it.’ He shrugged. ‘Regardless. To Four’s point… well, we don’t even know for sure if the mirror is really there. Neither of you actually saw it, right? If it is there, and if anything needs to be done about it, we can always discuss plans once we have more information at hand. Either way, we still need to deal with whatever we were originally brought here to deal with. Presumably a black-blooded monster infestation.’

‘True,’ Time said cautiously. ‘No sense making big decisions on limited knowledge, I suppose.’

‘Yeah. I guess. Though this does make me curious,’ Legend mused. ‘With all this talk of interference… what the hell even happened during your adventure anyway, Wars?’

‘During my adventure?’ Warriors asked, a slight edge creeping into his voice. ‘Sorry to disappoint, vet, but technically speaking? I didn’t have one.’

Chapter Text

A sudden flash of light. An explosion of pain and dizziness. Zelda’s voice calling out to him, weak and frightened. Though his legs trembled, Sky forced himself to his feet, forced himself to follow –

Legend’s sharp voice dragged Sky violently back to the present. ‘The fuck is that supposed to mean?’ he demanded. ‘“Technically speaking” your adventure didn’t happen?! Fuck off, pretty boy; I didn’t ask about technicalities, I –’

‘It was a joke,’ Warriors interrupted flatly. ‘Clearly a pretty poor one, and I apologise. Don’t read into it. Let’s just stay focused for now: Time, earlier you said –’

‘Hey, no!’ Legend protested. ‘Wars, you can’t just –’

‘– That it would be best if we could find a trustworthy guide to help us navigate the Lost Woods,’ he continued doggedly. ‘Do you have any suggestions on how we might approach that?’

Silence greeted his question. Sky looked over to see Time staring blankly into his lap. Harsh tone softening, Warriors prompted, ‘…Old man?’

Time startled. ‘Ah – yes? Oh. Well… there’s an old friend I can try to contact. It’s been a few centuries between my era and this one, but Kokiri don’t exactly… that is, I can’t be sure if she’ll answer or even if she’ll actually help us, but assuming she’s still here, then she should at least be able to… to recognise me…’ He cast another quick, guilty look in Warriors’s direction, then cleared his throat and concluded, ‘And as I said: if worse comes to worst, we should be alright so long as we stay focused and stick together. I didn’t mean to make these woods sound like a death sentence, just that… just that we need to be careful.’

Sky frowned, shifting his gaze around the room: to Time and Twilight, both hesitant and withdrawn, to Legend, quivering with agitation as he glared at Warriors, to Hyrule, so small and still that he could have blended in with the furniture, to the two poker faces typical of Warriors and Wind – one cold and authoritative, the other deceptively bright and open – to Wild, wearing an oddly speculative expression Sky wasn’t sure he liked, and to Four, who looked very much like he regretted initiating the entire discussion in the first place.

‘Shall we leave it there for tonight, then?’ Sky suggested gently. ‘It sounds like we have a big day ahead of us. I wouldn’t mind getting some rest if so.’

The admission of his low stamina came with its usual twinge of guilt, but the several tense shoulders that relaxed in response made it worthwhile. ‘Good idea,’ Time agreed readily. ‘It’s getting late, after all. We can figure the rest out tomorrow.’

Murmurs of assent echoed around the room as the group slowly dispersed. Sky stayed where he was, watching the bustle of activity: Time and Twilight tidying up the various mugs and cushions, the former heading to the kitchen and the latter to the linen closet, a blue flash as the bucket of chu jelly disappeared into Wild’s slate, Legend approaching Hyrule to ask something, only to be brushed off with a smile and a dismissive headshake, Four yawning lightly as he, Wind and Warriors worked to clear space and lay down bedding just as they’d done the previous night.

Sky supposed he should probably help, or at least lay out his own sleeping space. Instead, he merely leaned back into the sofa, closed his eyes and let his thoughts stray, once again, to that moment in the Sealed Grounds where everything had suddenly gone wrong.

The question had never quite left him, much as he wished it would: could he have stopped it all if he’d been just a little faster? Just a little stronger? If he hadn’t been so feebleminded and ditzy – if he hadn’t let his guard down, if he’d thought to close the Gate of Time even a few moments sooner? Or, if that much had been destined from the start, could he have at least stopped Demise from uttering that curse of his if he’d only worked just a little bit harder?

That was all he could do, after all. That was the reason he had been chosen. Not for his talents, of course, nor for his strength, his charm, his resourcefulness or his intelligence. Certainly not for his speed or his constitution. The others might hold all manner of heroic traits in spades, but the reason that Sky himself had been chosen was far simpler:

‘I knew,’ the goddess’ mortal incarnation had once confessed, ‘that if it meant saving Zelda, you would throw yourself headfirst into any danger, without even a moment's doubt…’

He shuddered.

‘Sky?’

He blinked back to awareness, turning his head to where Wild was now seated at his side. ‘Uhh – yes?’ Sky said blankly. ‘What is it?’ He ran a quick scan of the room, followed by a longer one as he belatedly noticed just how empty it looked. ‘Wait – where did everyone go?’

‘You’re kinda out of it, aren’tcha?’ Wild remarked idly. He pointed around the room. ‘Roolie’s hiding in the corner over there –’ Sky spotted a small, crouched figure picking through a pile of herbs and flowers ‘– Time’s brooding in the kitchen – well, technically he’s washing everyone’s mugs, but you get the idea –’ and indeed, Sky could hear the clinking of crockery and the splashing of water ‘– Four and Twi are right over there –’ easily visible a few metres away if Sky only turned his head ‘– and about ten minutes ago, Legend dragged Warriors off for late-night laundry. Pretty sure Wind went to eavesdrop.’

‘Uh… what was that last one?’ asked Sky.

‘Wind went to eavesdrop?’

Sky frowned. ‘Are Legend and Warriors really doing laundry at this hour?’

‘Dunno, but they definitely left the house and they were definitely carrying laundry supplies,’ Wild said unconcernedly. ‘Meanwhile, I’ve just been going around poking people to make sure they’re not dead. Speaking of which: hi. If you’re gonna sleep, maybe grab some blankets and lie down first?’

‘Uh… ok,’ Sky responded. ‘Say, is your sense of humour always this morbid?’

‘It’s either laugh at death or laugh at chaos and destruction, and Twilight did specifically ask me to not burn down his house,’ Wild explained. He shrugged non-committedly. ‘Everyone’s a bit off today, huh?’

Sky eyed him. ‘And you?’

‘Me?’ Wild scoffed. ‘I’m fine. Head’s just reeling a bit in between the time travel chat and the Ganon chat and the Flora’s-ancestors-were-even-bigger-dickheads-than-we-thought chat.’

Sky winced inwardly. ‘Yeah. Makes sense. It’s kind of a lot.’

Wild gave him a mildly inquisitive glance. ‘You know, Flora told me she once tried to build a time machine,’ he went on. ‘Failed, obviously – well, maybe it’s not so obvious. She was only six at the time, but I reckon if anyone could’ve done it, it’d be her. Least if her dad hadn’t gone and confiscated everything.’ His expression turned bitter. ‘But, I mean… I’d always assumed something like that was impossible. Maybe just for the sake of my own sanity. ’Cause if it was… well, there was a lot I could’ve done differently a hundred years ago, knowing what I do now. Just saying.

‘Or, hell, why not go back further than that? Why not go back to that time, thousands of years ago, when the royal dickheads of the day destroyed a whole heap of knowledge about Sheikah tech which we really, really could’ve used, thousands of years later, and just, like… assassinate the king or something. Assuming that doesn’t make Flora non-existify or anything. Or, y’know, if meddling with time is a legitimate option, why not just go back to that long-forgotten, fairytale era when Ganon was still just some guy, and shank that guy real hard in the back with a broken bottle?’

‘Already tried shanking him real hard,’ Twilight chimed in, overhearing. ‘Admittedly from the front, admittedly with a sword, but the point stands.’

Sky couldn’t help but feel that the conversation had turned just a tad insensitive, but Wild merely shrugged and said, ‘Well, I’m all out of ideas, then. Guess it’s a good thing that Flora’s time machine didn’t pan out.’

There was a brief silence, broken only by the light scratching of a mortar and pestle from Hyrule’s corner of the room.

‘Building something like that might not have been totally impossible, you know,’ Four eventually remarked thoughtfully. ‘Just… incredibly taboo?’ He gave a wry smile. ‘Obviously I asked around once I got back from that quest I mentioned, and the Minish told me a few things.

‘The first was that spells to travel through time aren’t supposed to be possible for humans – because even if you knew how, the level of energy required to actually cast a spell like that… only a god could actually muster it. The best a mortal – even the Oracle herself – could do was pray for assistance. But apparently, the Minish once built something that challenged that idea.

‘They say that there was a facility once, out in the desert south of the Tabantha Frontier. Lanayru Desert in my era, though I’m pretty sure it’s Gerudo Desert in the eras that follow me. The story goes that they once built all sorts of crazy tech out there, up to and including a gateway to the past – but the Goddess of Time was so enraged by their hubris that she sucked the very life from the place, turning it from a lush paradise to an all-but-unlivable desert.’

‘Wow. What a bitch,’ Wild commented half-heartedly. Twilight and Four both winced and shot quick, guilty looks at Sky, but the latter was a little too preoccupied with other matters to care.

‘The Gate of Time was created by the Goddess herself,’ he argued. ‘Or, at least, it was created on her orders. I don’t know why the area suddenly dried up, but it couldn’t have been a divine punishment for that.’

Four shrugged. ‘Hey, it was long before my era: not surprising that the story might’ve changed.’

Sky scowled, utterly dissatisfied but unable to argue the point.

‘By “the Goddess”, you mean Hylia, right?’ Wild piped up. ‘As in the big bird lady responsible for the mysterious black portal we all dove through the other day? Why would she need a time machine?’

Sky winced, automatically looking upwards for some kind of sign as to whether referring to the Goddess as a “big bird lady” might acts as sufficient grounds for divine smiting. Apparently not. Good to know.

(Zelda definitely would have smote Sky for that. Affectionately, but nonetheless…)

‘Uhh… well,’ he began hastily. ‘As Four said, time magic is impossible for a human, and the Goddess had made the decision to reincarnate as a mortal. So, she needed to prepare some other method of travelling between the eras. That’s what the gate was for. The two gates, rather. But they’re both gone now – the second of them was destroyed –’ his voice quavered just slightly ‘– the second of them was destroyed back at the end of my quest.’

Twilight scoffed lightly. ‘I don’t know, Sky. Seems there’s a bit of a pattern lately of things that should’ve been destroyed making unexpected reappearances.’

Sky gritted his teeth but said nothing. Twilight didn’t mean any harm, he knew, even if the words stung.

Four took the opportunity to weigh in. ‘Even if the original gates are gone, maybe some of the knowledge survived,’ he suggested. ‘I mean, the Minish couldn’t tell me much about it back in my time, but the tech from Wild’s own era reminds me a lot of those desert ruins.’

‘My era?’ Wild asked curiously.

Sky shuddered. ‘It’s probably a coincidence,’ he said hastily. ‘Wild’s era comes a long time after that facility was abandoned. If any of that knowledge did survive, I doubt it could’ve remained hidden for that long.’

‘I suppose…’ an unconvinced Four replied.

Wild scowled. ‘And if it did exist, don’t you think it’s a bit spiteful for ol’ Hyles –’ (Sky winced once again) ‘– to not share that with the class? Not that I don’t love blindly diving through mysterious black portals and all, but some direction might be nice.’

Sky sighed. ‘It’s not that simple, unfortunately. Sun – the Hylia of my era, that is – doesn’t know why the portals started appearing. It’s not even possible for her in her current form to create something like that, and she has no memory of them from before. Still, she says the magic used is clearly her own. It could only be her future self, from after she’s lived out her life as a human…’ Sky tried not to think too hard about that. ‘But unfortunately, we can’t exactly talk directly to her at that point.’

‘We can’t?’ Wild asked, as if being unable to hold casual conversation with gods was a very strange and unnecessary incursion on his freedom.

‘Uh,’ said Sky. ‘No? I mean, you’re free to try?’

Wild made a face. ‘Nah, she’s been giving me the silent treatment lately too; just thought I’d check if you’d had any better luck.’ He shrugged reluctantly. ‘Guess it’ll just have to stay a mystery for now. That said: if you don’t mind, I’m gonna go bother Hyrule for a bit. Later.’

Leaving it there, Wild got up from the sofa, gave a half-hearted salute and strode over to squat next to the aforementioned hero in the corner.

Sky stared wordlessly after, as did Twilight. Four paused before uttering a carefully enunciated, ‘What the fuck?’

‘It’s past my bedtime,’ Sky stated flatly. ‘I’m going to sleep now.’

Announcement made, he lay down to do exactly that.

The hour was late. Warriors and Legend stood beside the river at the outskirts of Ordon Village, armed with an old wooden tub, a matching old wooden bucket, a washboard, a crumpled pile of fabric and a large, lumpy bar of lye soap.

‘Legend,’ Warriors began calmly as he watched the aforementioned approach the stream, fill the bucket and, hissing with exertion all the way, empty it into the tub, ‘can you kindly explain to me what the actual fuck we’re doing right now?’

‘Again?’ Legend grunted. ‘I mean, Golden Three only know what the fuck you’re doing right now, but I reckon I’ve made my side of things pretty clear.’

‘Sure, but the absurdity just hit me once again,’ said Warriors.

Legend gave an exasperated huff. ‘Drama queen. Alright, fine: some jackass kid filled my bedroll with chu jelly, thus requiring laundry to occur, thus why I, with you as my rather unhelpful assistant, am out here doing laundry.’

Warriors raised an unimpressed brow. ‘In the middle of the fucking night.’

Legend nodded. ‘Correct.’

‘The pitch-black night,’ Warriors clarified.

‘I got a lantern.’

Warriors glanced up at the clouded sky. ‘Looks like it’s going to rain again soon, too.’

‘Yeah, seems like it. We’ve probably only got an hour or so at most,’ Legend said irritably, stumbling over his own feet as he heaved another bucketful up from the river. Charitably, Warriors took it from his hands and emptied it into the tub on his behalf. He expected some sort of protest, but instead Legend merely took the opportunity to stretch himself out, soft curses mingling with the noisy complaints of several joints.

Warriors eyed him, annoyance giving way to concern. ‘You’re taking this ridiculous alibi further than I expected, you know,’ he remarked cautiously.

‘If you’re not gonna help with the laundry, then shut up and keep watch,’ Legend snapped. With unnecessary force, he retrieved his fire rod and shoved it under the water’s surface, tense posture persisting while the water hissed and bubbled, and easing only once he’d thrown the magical tool to one side and thrust his bare forearms into the warm water. Choosing to give the stubborn hero a moment to defrost, Warriors dutifully scanned their surroundings.

It was clearly a human-dominated area, with few signs of animals and no signs at all of anything monstrous. Twilight had confirmed as much already. Terrain-wise, it certainly wasn’t the most advantageous of battlegrounds, with flowing water to one side, cliffs to another and the sole exit a funnel that granted approaching enemies both a generous amount of movement space and plenty of natural cover. Given time to set up an ambush, a clever adversary could even make use of the cliffs and river for ranged attacks. If there was any real threat of an attack, Warriors might have been able to plan around that, of course. He almost wished that was the direction their evening had taken.

‘This entire situation is fucking ridiculous,’ he stated aloud.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Legend grumbled, reluctantly lifting his arms from the tub and reaching for the sheets.

Warriors sighed. ‘Are you ok?’

‘I’ll live,’ Legend replied tiredly. ‘Just the cold, you know? And the wet. And my shitty joints and their… uh…’

‘Arthritis?’ Warriors suggested.

Legend grimaced. ‘If that’s what it is.’

‘That’s what our medic says,’ Warriors pointed out. ‘Are you doubting him?’

Legend’s shoulders slumped. ‘No, just… yeah, fine, guess he’s probably right. Hard to deny it at this stage, I guess.’ He reached for the soap and began to scrub listlessly at the sheets. ‘Though it’s not as if old-man-itis is the only reason to hate this kind of weather anyway, huh?’ he went on. ‘I’ve got scars too. Loads of nerve damage. Took a direct hit from a fucking lightning bolt at one point, if you can believe that one? Depending on which doctor you ask, I should be long dead. Thus why I don’t ask. Those fuckers can keep their opinions to themselves.’

Warriors stared at Legend for a long moment before hesitantly asking, ‘Did… did Hyrule say something to you?’

‘Hyrule?!’ Legend asked, startling from his work. ‘Oh. No, of course I didn’t mean Hyrule. He’s a good kid, and a great doctor. He’ll be a fantastic doctor someday too, I’m sure; not his fault I’m such a lousy patient, and fair enough if he’s a bit sick of dealing with… I mean, gods know I would be, at this point…’ Legend trailed off, shaking his head. ‘Ah, forget it. That’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.’

Warriors tensed, dropping the hand that had instinctively reached out to offer comfort. ‘Fine. Then why did you drag me out here? Quit stalling and get it over with.’

‘I’m not stalling, I just – I just need to –’ Legend argued. He deflated. ‘Just… I mean, being an arsehole is my natural state and all, but I’m not here to pick a fight or anything, it’s only… with the whole “technically didn’t happen” thing –’

‘I already told you: that was just a verbal slip,’ Warriors said sharply. ‘It was nothing important.’

‘Sounded important.’

‘Well, suppose it was: that’s my business then, isn’t it?’ he retorted, levelling Legend with the kind of glare that had lesser soldiers fleeing for their quarters. ‘If I felt like talking about it with you, I would’ve already done so. Maybe just keep your nose out of it this time, huh?’

Thoroughly unimpressed, Legend rolled his eyes in response. ‘Yeah, well believe it or not: I’m not running an interrogation here, just…’ He looked away. ‘You know I’ve been on a lot of adventures, yeah?’

‘Sure,’ Warriors said guardedly.

‘Well, one of them was in a similar category of “technically didn’t happen”,’ Legend informed him. ‘And sure, I can’t be certain if it’s anything like what you went through – and no, you don’t have to confirm that for me – but there was a thing that I really wanted to hear in the aftermath of it all, and I didn’t get it back then. At least not when I really needed it. And maybe you can’t imagine me being any more of a bitter arsehole than I am right now, but it kind of… festered, and I just thought… shit, this is gonna sound really self-indulgent, but I just thought that maybe, maybe if it was something you needed to hear right now, then I could say it for you.’

That wasn’t what Warriors had been expecting at all. ‘Uh… alright then?’ he said cautiously. ‘Go ahead, I guess?’

Even with permission granted, Legend seemed to suddenly shrink in on himself. ‘I, uh… umm… that is… ah, shit,’ he mumbled, before he steeled himself, lifted his chin and met Warriors’s eyes.

‘I believe you,’ he said simply. ‘If you say it happened, then it did. Doesn’t matter what anyone else says.’

Oh.

Once again caught off guard, Warriors could only stare at Legend, who glared obstinately right back.

‘I don’t give a shit about “technicalities”,’ he continued heatedly. ‘If it was real for you, then it was real. It happened. And seeing as how it did happen, you’re allowed to… you’re allowed to feel things about it. Whatever that means for you. Whether it was special and you miss it, whether it hurt you and you’re still aching, if you’re mourning anyone or feel guilty for anything, whether things turned out the way they should have or if you wish you could go back and change it all, whatever the case may be, that’s… you’re allowed to feel that. And fuck anyone who says otherwise. Got it?!’

As Warriors continued to not say anything, whatever steam Legend had been running on seemed to run out. In a mumble, he concluded, ‘That’s my spiel, anyway. Do with it what you will.’

He lapsed into silence, apathetically scrubbing and rinsing the sheets while Warriors took a moment to reckon with the unexpected declaration.

‘If you say it happened, then it did.’

Warriors had told him nothing. It wasn’t inconceivable that if the whole nonsense tale came to light, that belief would crumble. And yet, somehow…

‘If it was real for you, then it was real.’

He’d made the choice. He didn’t regret it. Even if he was given the option to choose once again, he wouldn’t change a thing.

Lana had spoken at length to the importance of protecting the flow of time and about the potential for things to unravel further if nothing was done. Warriors had the sneaking suspicion that her motives were not quite as altruistic as she painted them, but then again, neither were his own. He himself had thought only of the many lives that could have been spared, the many lives he himself had claimed, in self-defence or otherwise, and of the opportunity to make things right – if only to ease his own guilt. If guilt was what it took to do what was right, then so be it, he had decided. The results were the same regardless of intent, and he didn’t regret it.

It just… hurt a little, was all. He’d made a lot of friends along the way, scant few of which he had expected to ever see again, once everything was over. Even that strange, cynical child from the forest had slunk away without even a farewell in the end. That had hurt. Almost as much as it had hurt to see him again, only a few years later, grown into an adult that no longer recognised him. A fine adult, of course: one he was immensely proud of. But it still hurt.

A string of soft cursing interrupted Warriors’s musings. ‘Fucking useless piece of – is there a fucking hole in this tub?! Damn it, you dumbass bumpkin, take some fucking care of your fucking belongings, you –’

Warriors looked over to see Legend wringing out the edge of his tunic with a deeply disgruntled expression. He snorted quietly, and Legend threw him a dirty look.

‘Hey. Legend,’ he said haltingly. ‘Thanks. That… means a lot.’

Legend’s eyes widened. ‘Uh… sure,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I mean, no big deal.’

Warriors laughed quietly. No big deal at all.

He wasn’t sure quite what decided things for him, but before he could think better of it, the words started to spill from his lips.

‘We made a wish on the Triforce,’ he told Legend. ‘All three of us, I mean: me, the Princess and the Oracle… half of her at least. Long story. But all three of us made that wish, and I don’t regret it. The wish was to make it so that the War Across the Ages never happened.’ He scoffed. ‘You know, looking back: it really was a ridiculous adventure… I mean, you say you believe me, but when you hear what actually happened –’

‘I’d still believe you,’ Legend said stoutly. ‘I’m a bit of a bullshit adventure veteran myself, remember?’

Warriors snorted. ‘Yeah. You are. Well… like I said. Ridiculous levels of time shenanigans, dealing outrageous damage to the timeline. Historical places destroyed, people dead who should’ve stayed alive, impacts reaching all the way across the timeline. If it’d been just a few small changes, and if the Oracle still possessed her full power, maybe we wouldn’t have even needed the Triforce. But with things the way they were, we… we had to do it. And I don’t regret it. It’s just that… I don’t think I was actually supposed to remember things. ’Cause when I saw Lana again and said hello, she started with, “you must be Captain Link! Pleased to meet you.” And I just kind of… went with it. Even though I could tell she was faking. It wouldn’t have changed anything anyway, so why cause a fuss? It was all kind of exhausting to think about, really…’

He sighed. ‘Well, that’s my spiel. Do with it what you will.’ He looked over at Legend and gave a small smile. ‘And I should probably apologise, huh? Thanks again, and sorry for being an arsehole.’

Legend scoffed lightly. ‘Yeah, well… if I ever started apologising for that, I’d be apologising forever. Truce?’

Warriors’s smile grew. ‘Truce.’ He held out his hand to shake, waited for Legend to take the bait, then laughed as he yanked the shorter hero into a bear hug.

‘Arsehole,’ came a muffled voice from around his chest. After a few moments, Warriors gave Legend’s hair one last affectionate ruffle and let him slowly peel himself away with all the dignity of a sodden arthritic rodent.

‘For what it’s worth,’ Legend tacked on eventually. ‘I’m on your side. I may not be exactly talented at the sappy stuff – in case that wasn’t already pretty fucking obvious – but if you need someone, I’m there. You have at least sibling status with me by this point, so don’t be a stranger.’

Warriors’s ears perked up. ‘Sibling status, you say?’

‘Least favourite sibling status,’ Legend amended unnecessarily.

Warriors grinned. ‘Out of how many?’

‘Too many. Fuckers keep multiplying. Point is, you’re at the bottom of the list, but you’re still on there. Unfortunately.’

‘Well, that’s the important thing,’ Warriors conceded. ‘And for the record, you’d have to be one of my favourite siblings. Somewhere in the top ten, at least.’

Legend flushed. ‘That so, huh? Out of how many?’

‘Eight or nine.’

‘…Fuck you.’

Warriors laughed. ‘And there’s my perfect, precious little baby bro that I’d literally die for,’ he cooed, reaching out to ruffle his companion’s hair once again. Unexpectedly, Legend pulled back and smacked his hand away, expression tightening.

‘Do that and I’m disowning you,’ he said harshly. ‘Then you’ll just be my least favourite person in general.’

Contrasting Legend's usual gruff shyness when it came to affection, the warning was entirely humourless. Warriors hid a frown and filed that one away for later. ‘If you insist,’ he conceded lightly. ‘Guess I’ll just have to cut down on the whole dying thing for now, then.’

‘You fucking better,’ Legend grunted, returning his gaze to the sodden sheets. ‘In fact: maybe you should just cut down on the everything-in-general. Leave the hard work to someone who actually knows what they’re doing.’

‘Hmm…’ Warriors pretended to mull that one over. ‘Good idea. And since you’re so talented at late-night laundry, I do have a few shirts I’ve been meaning to –’

‘Oh, fuck off already.’

‘Worth a shot.’

It was only when they were getting ready to leave that Legend spotted the figure seated near the cliffs. He squinted his eyes but couldn’t quite make their face out in the darkness.

‘Wind?’ Warriors called instead, stepping closer. ‘Is that you? How long’ve you been there?’

The figure rose to their feet and approached the circle of light formed by Legend’s magical lantern. ‘Just got here,’ Wind said cheerfully. ‘You guys were taking forever. I figured I’d go make sure you didn’t get eaten by monsters or anything.’

‘On your own?’ Legend asked sceptically.

Wind’s grin sharpened. ‘Well, I’m not alone now, am I?’

Legend raised an eyebrow. ‘You followed us right from the start, huh? And you were eavesdropping the whole time?’

Wind flinched, pasted an innocent look on his face and opened his mouth to argue. ‘Might’ve been, yeah,’ was what came out instead.

Legend glanced guiltily over at Warriors, thankfully finding him much more amused than upset by this turn of events. He turned back to Wind. ‘Sheesh,’ Legend complained. ‘You’re one hell of a sneaky little shit when you want to be, huh? I didn’t notice you at all.’

‘Me neither,’ Warriors agreed. He sighed. ‘You’re not in trouble, by the way. Right, vet?’

‘Course he’s in trouble, you soft bastard,’ Legend grumbled, because someone had to be the responsible adult in their situation, and it clearly wasn’t Warriors. He flicked Wind lightly on the forehead and explained, ‘Ask permission next time, squirt, or at least announce your presence. Nosy kids grow up into arsehole adults, you know? Case in point.’ He jerked a thumb towards his own chest. ‘Shake the habit while you can. It’ll stop being cute once you’re just a little bit bigger.’

In the blueish lantern light, he thought he saw a gleam of respect in Wind’s eyes. ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ the young hero replied.

‘You better,’ Legend shot back. ‘Also, next time you fuck up my belongings I’m making you wash them yourself. Got it?’

Wind hummed non-committedly. ‘One condition.’

‘Bargaining with me now, huh?’ Legend scoffed. ‘Alright, kid: make me an offer.’

‘Not an offer. A demand. Stick close to me tomorrow,’ Wind said flatly. ‘Don’t get lost. And don’t run off into the forest like that again.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Time wasn’t lying, you know? These woods, they don’t…’ He shivered. ‘They don’t feel right. And I don’t think they like you. Or maybe it’s all of us that they don’t like.’

Legend stared at him. ‘The… woods?’

‘Yeah. It…’ Wind scoffed, looking away. ‘I can’t really explain it, so this probably all sounds like bullshit, huh? That’s why I didn’t say anything back then. But I do know this stuff from experience. Even if that time also “technically” didn’t happen.’

Legend froze, staring down at the younger hero. ‘Wind,’ he began. ‘Did you –?’

The skies chose that moment to open up, releasing a light spittle that very quickly transformed into a torrent, dashing all other thoughts from their minds.

‘Fuck – c’mon,’ Warriors urged, leading them quickly back the way they’d come. A small piece of Legend’s attention wandered irritably back to the sheets he’d only just finished washing and drying, while the rest remained fixed on the young hero running a few paces ahead. Suitably distracted, he didn’t even register the countless small twinges of complaint from his joints until he was already falling.

Dull pain flared white hot as he hit the ground, and he let out an involuntary groan, briefly robbed of all will to move. He was only vaguely aware of his two companions drawing close, of gentle hands touching his face and his shoulder and winding their fingers through his. A hiss of agony escaped his lips as he slowly lifted himself up, hearing the voices around him as if through deep water.

‘Lege–’

‘LOOK OUT!’

Through the racket of the downpour, several sounds hit Legend’s ears in rapid succession: a wet skid of boots on mud, a strange scuttling noise, a bestial cry and two shouts of alarm. Wobbly and disoriented, Legend was only halfway up from the ground when a blow to his back knocked him sprawling once again. He cried out on impact, and the rain seemed to stutter briefly in between closing his eyes and whatever indeterminate amount of time passed before he opened them again.

‘–gend?! Vet?! Are –ith me?! Say some–’

It was dark all of a sudden, he noticed. And noisy. Legend blinked confusedly while he took stock.

There was supposed to be a lantern on his belt, wasn’t there? Not anymore, apparently. Come to think of it: his item pouches were missing too, though he still had his sword at least. He hadn’t bothered to bring his shield. Rookie mistake, really.

(Fuck, his back hurt.)

No light then. He’d make do. If only he could actually hear properly. As it was, the only thing Legend could gauge beyond the pouring rain was a confusing blur of shouted words he could make little sense of.

No, wait – there was something else. Something slithering in the grass. An unearthly shriek.

Monsters.

He was vaguely aware of something grabbing hold of him and that the shouting picked up in response. Confused, Legend fumbled for his sword, but before he could decide whether or not to use it, he was being yanked upwards. Every nerve ending burned and a breathless shriek tore from his lips. The small amount of light in his surroundings darkened once more, the sound of the rain fading to a soft buzzing.

Oh, Legend thought distantly, that’s probably not good.

Chapter Text

The lack of any complaint as Warriors yanked the laundry basket from Legend’s hands should have been the first sign. His hunched posture, clumsy footing and slow pace as they dashed down the muddy path back to Twilight’s house could easily have been the second. Warriors had noticed both, certainly, but all that had done was strengthen his determination to get the younger hero warm and dry as soon as possible. It wasn’t until Legend collapsed that Warriors realised just how far his condition had already deteriorated.

‘Shit,’ he breathed, momentarily stunned to inaction by the sight of Legend’s weakly twitching, curled up form. He collected himself as quickly as he could, dashed over and dropped to his knees at Legend’s side, gently brushing sodden blonde hair back to reveal eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched against the pain. Voice more frantic than he cared to admit, Warriors called, ‘Hey! Vet. You still with me? You ok there?’

In retrospect: not the smartest question he could have asked. Legend only groaned in response, eyelids flickering weakly. Echoing his condition, the cheery flame of the magical lantern on his belt dimmed to an anaemic shade of red. Warriors leaned in closer, curling his fingers around the hand that lay limp near Legend’s head.

‘C’mon, vet,’ he cajoled, ‘gimme something to work with here. Is it ok for me to move you? Carry you back to Twi’s house, I mean?’

Legend gave no visible response to the question. Warriors chewed his lip, glancing murderously at the pouring heavens before shifting his attention to Wind and asking, ‘Did you bring any potions or fairies?’

He wasn’t entirely convinced that either would help – he really needed an actual doctor for this sort of thing, not his own half-arsed first aid training – but his heart still sank as Wind shook his head. Naturally, Warriors hadn’t thought to bring any either, for all that he had thought to bring his sword and shield. Shoving the self-recrimination back for later, he eyed Legend’s item pouches instead.

He was fairly sure he recalled the location of Legend’s healing supplies, but the pocket he needed was trapped beneath his friend’s body if so. With no way around it, Warriors grimaced and began the slow, careful process of unclipping Legend’s belt and tugging the necessary supplies free.

Somehow, that was finally enough to rouse their infamous hoarder, because of course it was. Warriors snorted with dizzy relief as Legend let out a grunt of complaint and started to lift himself up. ‘Careful,’ Warriors urged. ‘Take it slow. Damn it. Lege–’

A sudden shout from Wind was the only warning before something struck Legend from behind, sending him flying from Warriors’s loose grasp.

The lantern flickered out.

It was instinct more than anything else that had Warriors raising his shield, fending off a solid blow from whatever hid in the darkness. He snarled out a curse and stabbed viciously, winning a monstrous screech in response. Quick as he could, he crouched and seized the fallen lantern by the fingertips of his shield arm, shoving a thread of his own magic into the item in place of Legend’s. The flames flared up with a wet hiss before grudgingly stabilising. Warriors hooked it to his belt, sparing a momentary glance for the dark blood staining his sword before he lifted his gaze to their assailant.

The creature was vaguely humanoid in shape but unnerving in its size and proportions, bearing spindly limbs tipped with oversized clawed hands and feet that dragged deep furrows through the damp earth. Its head and much of the body were hidden behind a mass of trailing black tentacles and a featureless black carapace that served for a face. Even crouched on all fours as it was, the monster was roughly level with his chin.

Warriors glanced behind him. Wind had taken a defensive stance above Legend – the latter frighteningly still and the former shaking on his feet with a worrying tinge of red to his hairline and right arm. Warriors was denied the chance to inquire further as the injured beast lurched towards him.

Dodging wasn’t an option. Not with the others so close. He shoved his shield forward with all the force he could muster and followed through with a downwards thrust that skidded harmlessly off the creature’s tough carapace. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Wind jolt forward – away from Legend’s defenceless form – and yelled unthinkingly, ‘Hold your ground!’

There was probably some sort of response to that regrettably harsh command, but Warriors lost sight of it upon spotting two more of that same unfamiliar type of monster, approaching quickly.

Impa’s voice echoed in his head – a fond memory from one of the occasions she’d seen fit to tutor him herself. ‘First rule of fighting multiple opponents,’ she informed him sternly, ‘don’t. You’ll always be on the back foot. One thing if you’ve got allies watching your back, but if you’re alone, your best chance is to seek out a way to make it one-on-one.’

(She and her three magical clones had kicked his arse that day, handily proving her point. Nonetheless.)

Compared to Legend – or even to Wind – Warriors’s magic capacity was nothing to brag about, but what he lacked in volume he made up for in control. It didn’t take much: just a slender thread of power through each limb to temporarily double both his speed and his strength. Quicker than the monster could react, he ducked and shoved his shield upwards, right beneath the edge of its carapace. As the beast reared back, he stabbed deep into its chest, trying not to flinch at the ghastly choking sound it made or the way its limbs flailed briefly before going still.

Next.

Warriors twisted free, dashed right and dove into the second monster’s range, gripping the edge of its shell with his shield arm and shoving downwards. His sword followed, shearing through the mass of tentacles on its way to the creature’s neck.

Air shifted behind him and he ducked to avoid the claws of the third monster. Almost immediately, it attacked again. He cursed and increased the flow of magic, flipping backwards as the beast tried to ram its shell into his face. His counterattack severed a spindly black leg, and the thrust that followed pierced straight through the middle of the carapace. The monster tumbled to the ground beside its brethren.

Heaving for breath, Warriors listened closely for a moment. Hearing nothing else, he severed the flow of magic and rushed back to the others.

Wind was already crouched over Legend, fretfully patting his cheek and calling his name. Warriors quickly checked over Wind’s own injuries – a few nasty scratches, likely with nasty bruising to match, but nothing particularly urgent – then joined in the inspection of their companion.

Despite the pouring rain, Legend showed no sign of rousing. His face was pale and his breathing just a little too shallow for Warriors’s liking. The back of his tunic was torn and lightly bloodied, reminding Warriors of the blow that had tossed him across the ground.

Remembering his previous mission, Warriors dug through Legend’s item pouches and grinned as he managed to locate several full potion bottles. That smile slipped as he considered Legend’s slack face: medicine or no, dripping liquid into an unconscious patient’s lungs rarely improved their health outcomes. What he really needed was a fairy, or better: Hyrule, armed with both healing magic and medical knowledge. He’d be devastated to learn of Legend’s condition, but he’d at least know what to do. If only there was some way to –

Warriors smacked himself in the forehead. ‘Wind,’ he said, ‘can you please use your crystal to contact the others?’

‘Oh!’ Wind’s eyes went wide. ‘Yeah. I… I forgot that that was an option.’

Warriors nodded curtly. He passed Wind a potion for his own injuries, then rose to his feet. ‘Tell them the situation – bare minimum – and ask for advice. Ideally backup too, unless Hyrule says we’re good to move him –’ He paused, looking back towards the village, and amended, ‘– no, actually, we need backup either way. We should sweep the area, just in case.’

His eyes flickered anxiously across their surroundings. Even with Legend’s magical lamp, the darkness, rain and trees along the path cut his senses to a distressingly small radius, and for all that Twilight had claimed the area as safe, Warriors wasn’t optimistic enough to think they’d seen the last of those monsters. ‘I’m going to look around for a bit in the meantime,’ he added. ‘Make sure we’re still alone. Yell if you need me; I won’t be far.’

‘Uh… ok. Got it.’

Something in that quiet utterance twinged at all the sympathies Warriors kept locked behind the steely calm of his leader-mode. He immediately turned and crouched back down in front of Wind, dropping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing lightly.

‘Hey. He’ll be alright,’ Warriors announced with far more confidence than he actually felt. ‘So will we. I’m just being cautious. Better safe than sorry, right?’

Irritation flickered over Wind’s face. ‘I know. Get to it, already.’

Warriors grinned and ruffled Wind’s hair on the uninjured side of his head. ‘Will do, kiddo.’

As reassurances went, it was hardly one for the history books, but unfortunately, it was about all Warriors could spare: Wind’s posture went stiff in the same moment Warriors swung to face a noise from behind them.

A careful trickle of magic expanded the range of his vision several metres beyond the lamp’s radius, revealing three more approaching monsters. Warriors wavered briefly, then passed the lamp to Wind and climbed to his feet.

‘I got this,’ he announced as calmly as he could. ‘You just stay there and contact the others, ok? And don’t forget to drink that potion.’

Wind’s expression flickered uncertainly, before settling into the blank smile that acted as his usual poker face. ‘Sure,’ he replied cheerfully. ‘Try not to die or anything. Wouldn’t want Legend to disown you.’ He chugged the potion and reached for his crystal.

Warriors stared at him incredulously for a moment, very nearly forgetting what he was doing.

Admittedly, he already knew that Wind was supposed to be Time’s successor – but gods if this wasn’t Mask all over again.

‘Try not to die or anything,’ a twelve-year-old Time had offhandedly recommended in advance of one particularly unbalanced battle with Ganon’s forces. ‘I mean, just think of all the hair gel vendors you’d put out of business.’

‘Yeah. That’d suck,’ Warriors conceded faintly as he turned to face the approaching threat.

These kids, he decided, would be the death of him.

A grating chime blasted from Wild’s Sheikah Slate.

Twilight and Four both jumped. Time poked his head out of the kitchen. Sky jerked from his slumber with an intensely grumpy glare towards the shrieking device.

Minding his business in the corner as he had been, Hyrule wasn’t entirely sure why he’d become the victim of Wild’s increasingly weird attempts at initiating a conversation – ranging from “what’s your favourite meal?” (dried meat) to “do you prefer carrots or pumpkin?” (weren’t they the same thing?) to “whatcha making there, anyway?” (medicine) – but he was admittedly a little relieved by the interruption. Seemingly rather disgruntled for his own part, Wild unhooked his slate, fiddled with it for a moment, and then cheerily announced, ‘Welcome to Wild Herbs and Sundry; we’ve got the thyme if you’ve got the inc–’

‘Not now,’ Wind cut in. ‘Sorry. Kind of an emergency.’ He paused, then added sheepishly, ‘And if that’s some kind of prop-based visual gag, I uh, can’t see it anyway, so…’

Wild lowered his left hand and the bushel of borrowed herbs it held. ‘What kind of emergency?’ he asked.

There was a horrible hissing noise and a shout from somewhere in Wind’s vicinity. ‘Monsters,’ he said blandly. ‘And a medical emergency. Well, to be fair, I don’t actually know how much of a medical emergency it is. Think I got taught this shit? Nope. The external wounds look pretty minor, but he’s unconscious and Wars said not to move him unless –’

‘“He” –?’ Hyrule began anxiously. A swift process of elimination brought him the answer, and he leaned carelessly into Wild’s personal space to blurt, ‘You mean Legend’s unconscious?!’ Distantly, he registered movement in his periphery as the others drew closer.

‘Hyrule?! Oh, thank fuck, I –!’ Wind’s voice faltered briefly. ‘Uh, yeah. We were ambushed on the way back from the river. Legend took a hit, but he actually collapsed before that. Not entirely sure, but maybe the weather –’

‘The weather?’ Hyrule interrupted once again, freezing as he recognised the staticky background noise for what it was.

He couldn’t see outside from his position, but if he focused, he could hear the rain even without Wild’s slate. Hell, if he’d been paying attention, he might have even noticed the faint twinging in his own scars, meagre as they were compared to Legend’s and without any chronic conditions to match.

Gods, for that matter: had Legend even recovered from the previous night? He’d acted as if everything was fine, but it wasn’t as if he’d even bothered to pause and rest. He’d woken up early, spent a day helping out at Twilight’s ranch, charged off into the Lost Woods, run all the way back, then gone out to do fucking laundry in the middle of the night. And Hyrule had just let him, and he didn’t even –

Hyrule flinched as Twilight placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. ‘Focus, ’Rule,’ he said quietly.

Hyrule nodded mutely. He swallowed against his dry mouth and croaked, ‘I, um, I probably have to see to know, but Warriors is right that if you can – if you have the option to not move him, depending on what kind of danger you’re all in, I would really prefer – because he might have internal injuries, and you could really hurt him if –’ Hyrule swallowed again, trying not to think days spent helping out in the royal hospital, of the broken bodies of soldiers rushed to the healers with dislocated spines, with internal organs pierced by broken ribs, with Legend’s goddess-damned face –

‘Hyrule?’ Wind prompted.

‘Uh – I mean… is he breathing ok?’ Hyrule continued hastily. ‘And nothing blocking his airway? Ah – come to think of it, you didn’t actually say where the injury –?’

‘Oh – wait a second!’ Wind exclaimed suddenly. ‘Hey – Legend? Vet? You with me right now?’

Hyrule waited and listened with fragile hope until Wind defeatedly concluded, ‘He’s stirring at least, but he still isn’t – shit!’ Hyrule heard a muddy squelch and the sound of shifting fabric. ‘Fuck. Uh, can’t really talk – could really use some backup. Can you all get over here?’

‘Where’s “here”?’ Twilight leaned in to (sensibly) ask. ‘And what kind of monsters are we talking?’

‘Where the fuck – Legend, why is your shit fucking everywhere?! Fuck.’ Wind’s words meandered distractedly between curses, huffs of exertion and the sounds of a magic rod firing. ‘Uh – follow the path towards the river – downstream, I mean. We should be about ten to fifteen minutes down that way, maybe less if you hurry – fuck – dunno about the monsters; nothing I recognise. Armoured heads, bunch of tentacles, long, thin limbs – ugh – pretty strong, too.’ The hand on Hyrule’s shoulder twitched as Twilight muttered a curse. ‘Wars already took down a bunch of them, but – hey!’

‘Wind?!’ called a deeply alarmed Sky. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Fuck – look, just grab everyone and get over here as soon as you can, ok?’

The noise from Wild’s Sheikah Slate cut away. There was a brief moment of shocked silence before the room exploded into motion. Hyrule didn’t wait for it to resolve itself: ignoring the startled call of his name, he grabbed his sword and dashed for the exit.

‘Fucking pox-faced bilge-sucking son of a biscuit eater!’ yelled Wind – an intensely clever and well-constructed insult that went entirely unappreciated by the oversized monstrosity attempting to claw his head off.

You couldn’t win them all, it seemed.

One monster had swiftly turned to three, turned to six, turned to a rampaging horde that Wind had quickly lost track of. Somewhere behind, he could hear, if not see, Warriors still juggling an impressive number of opponents. When he glanced back, a few flickers of golden light – growing scarcer as the battle continued – suggested that the soldier’s startling agility was not without cost.

The fact that any monsters had managed to get past that overprotective first line of defence didn’t exactly fill Wind with calm and confidence. The fact that at least half of the monsters that came his way weren’t even aiming for Wind at all –

‘Eyes over here,’ he snarled as he fired Legend’s ice rod at the monster gunning directly for said ice rod’s original owner. He then clubbed it viciously with the rather delicate looking quartz bulb (which probably wasn’t intended for that purpose), and then slashed its head clean off for good measure.

Perhaps that second line of defence was just a little protective too.

Silver lining: Legend wasn’t conscious enough to complain about Wind helping himself to the veritable hoard of treasure that was the veteran adventurer’s item stash. And by silver lining, Wind meant shit-stained water-blackened silver lining. Silver thrown into the fucking ocean and left to decay lining. Silver that came pretty damn close to being the worst thing Wind had ever dredged up from the depths lining. But in the absence of any options beyond having a certain dumbass brother be unresponsive, slowly bleeding out, highly vulnerable to monster attacks and possibly also going into shock: shiny.

Wind stabbed the closest monster, froze the pair a little further away and shot a frigid stream into the puddle in front of Warriors, buying his beleaguered companion an opening to take out several enemies in rapid succession – putting only a minor dent in their total numbers. Wind gritted his teeth as he turned, focused, and then unleashed a hurricane spin that tore through most of the remaining monsters on his side – and a good portion of his magic – in an instant.

A choked cry dragged his attention back to where a monster that Wind had somehow missed was starting to drag Legend away by the arm. Cold fear paralysed Wind for a second he couldn’t really afford, before he yelled Legend’s name and charged forward to help.

Warriors was faster.

A blue and gold blur slashed the monster’s spindly limb clean off, halting on its knees to catch Legend’s shuddering form on its way to the ground. Wind settled for bisecting the monster in a single, furious strike – right as three more foes started creeping up from behind.

Fuck it.

Wind yelled a brief warning and then raised Legend’s ice rod high above his head, channelling a probably slightly excessive amount of magic through the tool. Wobbling slightly from the strain, Wind heard a soft, crystalline click of complaint followed by a blast of freezing air followed by a louder cracking sound. A wave of frost swept outwards, turning every monster in range into an oversized, misshapen icicle. The cap of the ice rod crumbled into tiny shards of quartz.

‘Huh,’ said Wind as he examined the broken tool with stunned detachment (and maybe just a touch of magic exhaustion), ‘he’s not gonna be happy about that one, is he?’

‘Wind?!’

The urgent call from Warriors managed to break through his daze. ‘Shit – Legend!’ he gasped. He dropped to his knees at Legend’s side, staring anxiously at the older teen’s pained expression. ‘Shit – I’m so sorry. Lege, are you –?’

On inspection, it was clear that Legend was at least somewhat awake by that point, if not entirely aware. Wind glanced guiltily at Warriors, finding a grim expression on his face as he carefully inspected the hero in his arms. A moment later, Warriors looked up and gave a smile that was probably supposed to be reassuring. ‘Hey, Wind?’ he said gently. ‘I hate to ask, but can you keep watch for a moment? Just for a moment. Yell if you see anything.’

Wind looked uncertainly down at Legend, guilt twinging at the thought of his less-than-attentive previous attempt at keeping watch. He nodded and stood, ignoring the flash of concern on Warriors’s face when he staggered lightly.

It was a little difficult for Wind to stay focused, in between the dizziness from his drained magic reserves and the sounds of Warriors trying to coax his semiconscious patient into drinking a few mouthfuls of healing potion, but he did his best.

‘What’s the plan?’ Wind asked abruptly into the first moment of sustained quiet. Hastily, he clarified, ‘I mean, not that I don’t love fighting endless hordes of fucked-up humanoid helmasaurs and all that, but neither of us have much magic left if more of them appear. And they keep going for Legend. And if those things are natural, I’ll eat my hat, my foot, my pirate ship and Hyrule’s cooking. In that order.’

For whatever reason, the humour fell just a little flat. He glanced back and saw Warriors’s posture stiffen. The older hero gently laid Legend back down in a slightly less muddy patch of ground and stood. ‘I agree: it isn’t natural,’ he said evenly. ‘There’s too many of them, and the pattern of their appearances is too regular. Always three at a time. That said, if whoever or whatever’s summoning them is nearby, there’s a fair chance you caught them in your last attack –’

‘Fat chance,’ Wind amended helpfully.

‘–And if they’re further away,’ Warriors pressed on, ‘then hunting them down is going to come with its own risks. As is trying to run.’ His gaze flickered briefly to Legend, then back to Wind. ‘The others can’t be far at this point, right?’ he added. ‘We just have to hold out a little longer. Think you can do that?’

Wind hesitated.

On the one hand: no, he really didn’t. He had a few tricks left, of course, but none of his usual inventory and very little of his magic either. Even a single one of those beasts put up a startlingly good fight, and if the numbers from before were any indication… Wind didn’t like their chances.

They could run, maybe. They’d reach the others faster, and maybe also find a better battleground to make their stand. But one of them would have to carry Legend, and whoever that person was wouldn’t exactly have their hands free to fight. Not to mention Hyrule’s request to not move him, and not to mention how neither Wind nor Warriors were in top fighting or Legend-carrying condition at that point…

There was something that looked suspiciously like fear lurking behind Warriors’s calm façade. It was unusual to see it so openly – and didn’t that alone say enough about their situation?

There was only one possible answer.

‘Sure,’ Wind said flippantly, and then, like a complete fucking amateur, added, ‘What’s the worst that can happen, anyway?’

Warriors winced.

Right on cue, there was a rustling sound from the dark greenery, just loud enough to be heard over the continuing rain. Wind immediately shuffled a few steps closer to Legend while Warriors stepped in front of the two of them.

A single beast loped casually into the outer radius of the borrowed lantern. No others followed.

Wind blinked with surprise, slowly lowering his sword, even as Warriors maintained his own tense posture. ‘That kinda feels a bit anticlimactic,’ the former remarked – once again, like a complete fucking amateur. Poetic justice being what it was, the beast then halted in place, raised its masked head high, and let out a horrific, echoing screech.

A sharp inhale froze in Wind’s lungs. His entire body seized up for several seconds as that awful noise crawled over his skin and reverberated through his bones. When it finally died out, leaving only a ringing in his ears, a sharp cracking sound took its place. Turning his eyes in that direction, Wind saw a spindly black limb emerge from the frozen shape to his left, followed by another. As if that had been the signal, similar sounds echoed from every other direction. Near Wind’s feet, one of the few monsters that had escaped that frosty fate rose, shaking itself off like a dog. The two halves of its shield-like carapace rippled and reformed into one seamless mass.

It dawned on Wind, at that moment, that he’d somewhat underestimated just how many monsters Warriors had taken out during that first wave. A lot, it turned out. Without even mentioning Wind’s own tally.

He spared a quick, pleading glance to Warriors, whose disciplined stance had gone oddly limp. Reliable as ever, the soldier swiftly collected himself, and charged towards the newest arrival.

Wind could guess at the thought process behind that: remove the leader and the rest should follow. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to hope, watching as Warriors’s sword lit up with golden fire – the captain clearly putting full force into the swing – and tore through its target like paper.

The two halves of the presumed “leader” fell to the ground. Before Warriors could recover, the claws of its neighbour dug deeply into his chest.

‘Wh–’

Warriors’s quiet huff of confusion was nearly drowned out by the rain and by the squelch of mud as he dropped to one knee, clutching his wounds and gasping for breath.

With a scream of his own, Wind finally tore free from his stupor. ‘Warriors!’

He charged forward heedlessly. A monster barred his path, but he parried the swipe of its claws and leapt right over its head. With milliseconds to spare, he lunged forward, grabbed hold of Warriors’s tunic and yanked him backwards, bracing himself and activating his magic armour in the same moment.

It belatedly occurred to Wind that activating magic armour required magic.

Unfortunate, considering he had none to spare.

The spell flickered into existence for just long enough to prevent three sets of claws from tearing into his body. The residual impact tossed Wind off to one side. His head slammed into something hard and he crumpled to the ground.

The noises around him faded out, then back in. He dizzily picked himself up, one elbow at a time, and promptly collapsed once more.

If it was still attached, the lantern on his belt had either broken or fizzled out. It didn’t matter: the extra senses that had saved Wind time and time again in the labyrinthine Temple of the Ocean King painted the scene for him readily enough.

Warriors was motionless on the ground. He was alive at least, though his aura felt much weaker than usual. The murky, unnatural pressure of however many monsters continued to swarm around him, but they took no interest in his prone form – nor in Wind’s own, for that matter.

A little further away, Legend’s aura shifted and Wind turned his attention that way, lips twisting in a snarl as he struggled to get up and fight once more. The veteran adventurer’s aura had dimmed, but it had always been one of the strongest Wind had encountered, due to both his own vast magic reserves and the glittering presence of the many enchanted items he carried. Even without light, Wind could clearly sense every shift of Legend’s body as a monster yanked him upwards and his free hand reached shakily for the collar of his tunic, tugging out some sort of pendant that gleamed in Wind’s enhanced senses.

Legend made a quiet, derisive noise. A laugh perhaps? Some sort of quip? Wind couldn’t say for sure. All he felt was the impact.

Heat, light and magical energy surged across the area with an ear-shattering explosion. Wind cried out at the assault on his senses – a tiny sound swallowed up by the storm of arcane energy. Distantly, he registered monster auras flickering out all around him as the blast finally subsided and Legend dropped to the ground.

Soon, it was quiet. Either that, or Wind’s hearing wasn’t working properly. Considering that there were no monsters actively killing him as far as he could tell, he’d take it. He even decided that it was probably, maybe fine for him to just pass out at that point. Or maybe that was the head wound talking.

The head wound had some pretty compelling arguments, come to think of it, and Wind wasn’t sure he had much in the way of a rebuttal: nothing but the strange sense that something was wrong, that there was something out of place, even though the only auras he could sense were Legend, Warriors, Hyrule and himself.

His tired brain fought valiantly to work out what the problem was, but soon ran out of steam. Unable to resist any longer, he let himself drift.

‘– be moving around, Warriors.’

‘Don’t – about me. – the k-kid?’

‘– be ok. –bably wake up soon.’

There was a pleasant fizzy warmth at his head, hands weaving through his hair and gently rubbing his temples as they worked their magic. Wind swam his way back to consciousness and blinked confusedly against the light of a lantern placed uncomfortably close to his face. ‘H’rule?’ he slurred. ‘W’rs?’

His slow focusing eyes revealed two of Warriors’s face, both lit up in relief. The two slowly merged into one pale visage as the older hero nodded quickly and replied, ‘That’s right, kid. But don’t t-try to move yet, ok? You’ve got a bit of a head bump going there.’

‘Y’r face’z a head bump,’ Wind retorted tiredly.

Warriors chuckled, reaching out to gently cup his cheek. ‘Whatever you s-say, kid.’

It had been tempting enough to doze off again right then and there, but the tremor in Warriors’s cold hand brought Wind a step closer to reality. He sat up, knocking both sets of hands loose and immediately regretting it. His vision whited out and he gagged, narrowly managing to hold back the sudden nausea.

‘Careful!’ Warriors scolded. ‘I told you not to m-move.’

Wind shook his head, pointing mutely at Warriors’s tattered, bloodstained tunic.

‘Yeah. He shouldn’t be moving either,’ Four agreed wryly. Wind looked over in time to see him give Warriors a pointed glare. Seated at his other side, Sky shot Wind a brief smile as he lifted Twilight’s pelt off the ground and wrapped it carefully around Warriors’s shivering frame. Looking down, Wind noticed Sky’s sailcloth draped over his own legs like a blanket.

As Warriors proceeded to argue his case (‘I already took a p-potion, I’m f-fine.’ ‘You nearly bled out and you’re still shaky as hell; lie down already.’), Wind’s jumbled mind slowly sorted through his recent memories for the most salient matters. ‘Wh’re…’ he ventured weakly. ‘Wh’re’s Legend?’

The others went quiet, exchanging hesitant glances that only served to panic Wind further. ‘H-hey. Wh’t happened? Where is he?!’

Hyrule shifted behind him and Wind turned to look. The mage looked miserable, crouched in on himself and hugging his knees for comfort. ‘The others are looking,’ he mumbled. ‘The tracks are a bit confusing, but… but Wolfie’s looking too, and Wild’s supposed to contact us if – when they find him. They just…’ he hesitated, then looked up at Wind. ‘They just haven’t yet. And I’m guessing you don’t have any clues either?’

Wind stared at him until the faint spark of hope in Hyrule’s eyes dwindled and died. Defeatedly, he continued, ‘Alright then. Wind, take it easy, but you should be ok for now. Wars, I better have another look at your –’

‘That’s ok,’ Warriors said quickly. ‘I’m f-fine. Save your magic. You might need –’

‘You almost died, Wars,’ Hyrule snapped. The fire in his tone died out as quickly as it had appeared. ‘I won’t use magic,’ he promised quietly. ‘Not yet, at least. Just let me check you over.’

Warriors acquiesced, allowing Hyrule access to his ruined tunic. Wind caught a few glimpses of the ghastly pattern of raw skin beneath. Hyrule didn’t seem particularly bothered by the sight – if anything sounding a little relieved as he announced, ‘We’ll need to wrap that, and you’ll need to rest, but thankfully it doesn’t look too bad right now. Seems that Wild’s elixirs work quite well. I –’

‘You w’re there,’ Wind said suddenly. ‘Hyrule, I mean. You w’re there before I passed out. And Legend was there too – d’dn’t you see wh’t happened to him?’

‘What?!’ The confusion on Hyrule’s face was genuine enough to befuddle Wind. ‘No – by the time I got here, he was already gone.’ Frustration touched his tone. ‘Wild, Twilight, and I all arrived at the same time. The others would’ve only gotten here a minute or two later, and by that point I was busy treating the two of you. Right?’ He paused briefly to receive assent from the others, then charged on with increasing ferocity, ‘We found Wars first, ’cause he was bleeding out in the middle of the path. And you were unconscious off to the side. Demise only knows where Legend went, because Wars didn’t know, and obviously you don’t either, Wind. The others went to try and track him down, but I couldn’t, because – I mean, obviously I couldn’t. I wouldn’t, I mean. But don’t you think I wish I saw what happened?!’

Both Wind and Hyrule flinched at the sudden accusation.

‘Hyrule,’ said Warriors – unmistakeably a warning, if not an entirely unsympathetic one.

‘S-sorry. I shouldn’t have…’ Hyrule stammered. His expression shifted. ‘Hold on, but did you really see someone? It couldn’t have been me, but maybe someone with a similar build? If it was dark, maybe… do you remember anything else about them? It could be a useful clue.’

‘I…’ Wind hesitated. He hadn’t told any of the others about that particular talent of his, and it hardly seemed like a good time. ‘Sorry, I just… really thought it was you. But I mean… the head wound and all… maybe I just imagined it…?’

He trailed off uncertainly. It was the only explanation that made sense, after all: Hyrule’s aura was utterly unmistakable, with a particularly diverse blend of powerful bloodlines and innate magics, and with enough sheer presence that Wind could sense it just by sitting next to him. Even with a concussion, there was no way Wind could have mistaken that aura for anyone else.

Hyrule appeared dissatisfied by the non-explanation, but his attention was quickly stolen by the return of Twilight, Time and Wild.

A single glance was enough to determine that no good news awaited them. Twilight didn’t waste time pretending otherwise. ‘Wolfie couldn’t find a scent trail,’ he stated flatly. He glanced over at Time and Wild and sighed. ‘Too much rain, unfortunately. We checked the tracks too – much as we could. There were plenty of monster tracks leading to this place, but none leading away from it. And no sign of Legend being dragged away, either.

‘We followed the monster tracks backwards for a while just in case, but it didn’t take long for us to lose that trail too. Then, on the way back, we checked in at the village.’ He shook his head. ‘Nothing. Hadn’t even noticed the attack. No human footprints leading away from this spot either, unless they’ve been washed away. And that would’ve had to happen pretty damn quickly.’

‘But –’ Warriors began agitatedly. ‘But he can’t have just vanished.’

‘That’s… not necessarily true,’ Twilight hedged. He looked over at Warriors and then to Wind, expression softening just slightly as their eyes met, before he shifted his gaze once more. ‘The monsters Wind described are known to me. They shouldn’t be here. Not anymore. But the fact that they are suggests that…’ His jaw clenched once again. ‘That there is still a connection between the world of light and the world of twilight. And while teleportation magic is practically unheard of in this era, it’s common enough among the Twili. Though as to their motives…’ He shrugged helplessly, and concluded, ‘I wouldn’t know.’

‘So – so what do we do?!’ Hyrule asked desperately. ‘How do we find him?’

Time took over. ‘For now,’ he said reluctantly, ‘we go back to Twilight’s house. We finish caring for the wounded, and then all of us rest up for tomorrow.’

‘Time,’ Wind said incredulously. ‘Time, you can’t be serious. We can’t just – we can’t – I mean, he’s injured –’

‘So are you,’ Time pointed out gently, and added, just as Wind opened his mouth to argue, ‘and so is Warriors.’

Wind closed his mouth. He looked over at Warriors, looking incredibly pale and shaky even with the pelt wrapped around him, and somehow, inexplicably, giving Wind the same look of concern and guilt that Wind gave him.

Wind hesitated, then nodded. In a small voice, he replied, ‘Ok then.’

Time frowned. ‘We’re not giving up,’ he said fiercely. ‘We’re withdrawing and recovering.’ He looked from person to person, and went on, ‘Whoever or whatever took Legend clearly wants him alive. So long as that’s the case, we have time to plan things out. And if we can’t find any other clues…’ He paused. ‘Well. We have a clue as to that “connection” Twilight mentioned, don’t we?’

It took Wind’s tired, foggy mind far too long to work out what he meant, but Four nodded understandingly. ‘The Mirror of Twilight,’ he said grimly. ‘We’ll have to search the Lost Woods.’

Chapter Text

The journey back to Twilight’s house wasn’t a long one, even with two of them injured.

Wind had quickly succumbed to exhaustion and spent the trip napping peaceably on Time’s back. Showing significantly less maturity and/or lucidity than said twelve-year-old, Warriors weakly shook off Twilight’s offer of assistance and instead made an entire production out of his claimed ability to walk on his own, only to pass out mid-attempt. Hyrule absently checked him over once again, sent a few pulses of healing magic through his limp body, calmly requested access to any and all equipment capable of preventing hypothermia, calmly suggested that they hurry and calmly said something probably not very calming about Warriors’s startling ability to disguise his symptoms and about the lethal triad of hypothermia, acidosis and coagulopathy – both of which probably went against Hyrule’s basic training on professional conduct, none of which the somewhat dissociated healer found himself giving a single rat’s arse about.

Needless to say: it was not a long journey back to Twilight’s house, even with two of them injured.

It was only after they’d arrived, replaced each set of wet clothes with dry ones, completed all necessary medical treatments and tucked the two unconscious patients into bed that Hyrule collided face-first with the tail end of his task list and blinked free from his daze.

He looked down.

Warriors was no longer shivering. His breathing had evened out and slowed into a much less frantic pace, albeit still faster and shallower than that of the younger hero curled up against his side. Wind himself had briefly roused again upon their arrival, appearing tired and confused but thankfully responsive enough. Both of the two would need to rest, but as far as Hyrule could tell, the danger had passed. As that realisation hit, he sat back, letting his eyes slide shut as he breathed out a sigh.

Someone shifted nearby. Wild’s voice cautiously called, ‘Hyrule?’

Hyrule reluctantly opened his eyes to the five other people clustered nearby, each staring at him with varying levels of concern. ‘Warriors and Wind should both be fine now,’ he reported dully. ‘I’ll monitor them for the rest of the night, just in case, but I’m not too worried at this point.’

The tension dropped from the air like a physical weight. Sky gave a quiet sigh and practically collapsed into Twilight’s side. Only slightly more subtle were the slumped shoulders and slackened faces of Hyrule’s other companions.

‘What is it that needs monitoring?’ Time asked after a brief pause.

‘Just…’ Hyrule made a vague gesture. ‘Basics. Make sure they’re breathing normally and that they don’t get too cold. Or too feverish, I guess. And watching out for seizures or vomiting, though I don’t think either of those are likely. If Warriors wakes during the night, I’ll give him some more fluids – the medicine near the fire, I mean. Wind should be fine with plain water for now, but he needs sleep more than anything else.’

‘If that’s all, then there’s no reason you should have to do it all by yourself,’ Time said decisively. ‘Let the rest of us take over from here, Hyrule. We’ll set a watch schedule. You should get some rest for now; you look exhausted. I promise we’ll wake you if anything big happens.’

Hyrule blinked uncomprehendingly. ‘What do you…? No, you can’t, that’s –! I mean, I’m the one who’s supposed to –?!’

Stubborn as ever, Time turned to the others. ‘I’ll take first watch,’ he announced. ‘Pup, could you take second?’ Twilight nodded quickly and Time continued, ‘As for third –’

‘I’ll take third,’ Sky volunteered immediately, even as Four raised his hand and Wild started to speak.

Time paused, looking distinctly unhappy. ‘Sky,’ he began, ‘are you sure you…?’

‘I can do it,’ Sky insisted with a scowl that only accentuated the dark shadows beneath his eyes. ‘I have medical training and everything. The basics, at least. Let me help. Please.’

‘No, hold on: this is nonsense,’ Hyrule protested. ‘Basic medical training is great and all, but if anything goes wrong –’

‘We’ll wake you if anything goes wrong,’ Sky cut in firmly. ‘Right, Time? Twi?’

‘Right,’ Time agreed reluctantly.

‘Of course,’ added Twilight.

Hyrule looked desperately from one face to the next, searching for a trace of mercy and finding none. ‘Surely there’s still…’ he began shakily, then changed tack. ‘I mean… am I really not needed here?’

Time frowned. ‘“Not needed”? Hyrule, please: don’t misunderstand. You’ve done well today. You’ve done more than enough. But you don’t need to bear everything by yourself, and you do need to sleep.’

Hyrule zoned out as Time spoke, eyes straying towards the door, until the sharp call of his name brought his attention scurrying back.

‘Hyrule?’ Twilight repeated suspiciously. ‘What are you looking at?’

‘I…’ Hyrule swallowed. ‘I just… I mean… it’s still raining out there, you know? And if we wait until tomorrow, any tracks are going to disappear. So, if you don’t need me here anymore, then maybe I can go see if I can –’

‘Absolutely not,’ Time snapped with sudden vehemence. ‘Hyrule, we are not splitting up, and you are definitely not going wandering out in the dark on your own at this hour.’ He stopped and collected himself, agitated voice levelling out as he explained, ‘Going out now isn’t going to help, it’s just going to put you – and anyone who accompanies you – in unnecessary danger. You could get hurt, you could fall sick, and if you don’t rest now then you’ll be too exhausted to be of any real help tomorrow. And in any case: Twilight, Wild and I already searched the area, and we shared our conclusions earlier. What do you think you’ll find that the three of us couldn’t?’

‘I don’t know!’ Hyrule cried exasperatedly. The calm tone and measured words grated on his nerves; he almost wished Time had simply shouted at him. ‘I know you already searched, but it’s just – I just know that if I was the one missing, Legend wouldn’t be sitting around waiting. I don’t know what he’d be doing, but he’d be doing something; he wouldn’t be wasting time, he wouldn’t be just giving up –’

A slight twitch in Time’s posture was the only sign that Hyrule had touched a nerve. ‘We’re not giving up, ’Rule. We’re resting, caring for our injured and waiting until we have a bit of visibility outside.’

‘I have a lantern. I’ll be fine,’ Hyrule shot back. ‘Wind and Wars will be fine too. It’s not like you need me here anymore. Not like you needed me from the start; I’m not even a proper doctor, I just –’

‘Hyrule, sit down!’ said Time, pressing down on Hyrule’s shoulder in the very moment he started to rise from his crouched position.

Hyrule drew in a breath to yell something harsh right back at him before a sleepy murmur from below halted him in his tracks. ‘T’me?’ Wind asked blearily. ‘H’rule?’

Hyrule looked down guiltily, and sure enough, the sailor was awake and blinking confusedly up at him.

‘’S’matt’r?’ Wind slurred. ‘S’meth’ng happ’n?’ His expression abruptly turned frantic as he scanned his surroundings, relaxing only upon sight of the sleeping figure at his side. Wind then turned his gaze back on Hyrule, who saw that the concussed hero’s eyes were already fluttering closed once again for all that he fought to keep them open.

The fight fled from Hyrule’s body, leaving him almost as weak and tired as his patient. ‘Everything’s fine, Wind,’ he said softly. ‘Sorry I woke you; I promise it wasn’t anything important. Go back to sleep, alright?’

Wind gave a confused pout, but nodded nonetheless, wincing slightly at the motion. ‘G’nigh’ then,’ he yawned. He sluggishly shifted closer to Warriors and murmured, ‘Tell Lege ’m sorry abou’ th’ice rod, uh-k?’

Hyrule flinched. Nestled into Warriors’s side, breathing deeply and slowly, Wind appeared not to notice.

The silence stretched on as Hyrule stared down at his lap. He could feel the eyes of his companions burning into him, and he cringed beneath their weight, instinctively curling in on himself like a scared child hiding in a crevice while monsters passed him by.

But there were no monsters around him. There were only Hyrule’s exhausted companions, forced to put up with yet another pointless, childish outburst, when surely they’d been given more than enough to worry about already. And Time was right, after all: Hyrule had no plan. He didn’t even have a sense of direction. If Wild and Twilight hadn’t been with him earlier, he might not have even arrived in time to save Warriors’s life. What use was it to run off blindly, where smarter, stronger people than Hyrule had already tried and failed to find a clue?

‘Hyrule?’ Time called cautiously, and Hyrule looked up to see that familiar hesitant yet painfully kind expression their leader wore when he saw someone suffering and didn’t know how to help. His hand hovered close to Hyrule’s knee, clearly unsure of its welcome.

Had Hyrule given him reason to doubt that? He must have, whether through his latest tantrum or his harsh words from the previous night. Or maybe Hyrule had always been the kind of person people had to tiptoe around. Maybe that was just who he was. Maybe he really was a monster. Maybe they were all just too kind to tell him.

What if Legend was too kind to tell him that?!

Hyrule cleared his throat. ‘Excuse me, Twi,’ he said in a choked voice, ‘would I be able to borrow your room for tonight? Or your basement, maybe? Just somewhere where there are less… umm, I mean, somewhere with a bit of…’

A bit of privacy, he finished in his head. Not that the open plan of Twilight’s house offered much of that, but the upper-story alcove that formed his bedroom was surely better than nothing.

Twilight seemed to take an inordinately long time to respond, and Hyrule could tell that there were a few significant glances traded above his head before he replied, ‘Sure thing, Roolie. Just up the ladder. All yours. Sleep well.’

Hyrule nodded mutely, then grabbed his sword and made a hasty exit to the second floor, suddenly desperate to be gone. It was only once he’d pulled the covers down and dropped himself on Twilight’s plush, comfortable mattress – almost too comfortable, really, for someone so used to sleeping on the ground – that it occurred to Hyrule that he’d forgotten to apologise. He wavered briefly, looking back the way he’d come, but eventually decided that it could wait until the next day, as could the quiet argument he could still faintly hear from below. He tucked himself into bed and closed his eyes.

It could only have been a few minutes from then that he heard a hesitant knock on the alcove railing, followed by a set of slow, light footsteps. Wild, he guessed.

There was a soft clink of ceramic on wood. ‘I, uh… made you some tea. If you want it,’ Wild explained sheepishly. ‘It’s a common herbal tea from my era. Got a bunch of it in my slate. Helps with relaxation.’

Hyrule said nothing.

‘R-right. Well. It’s there if you want it. Umm…’

Hyrule continued to feign unconsciousness, right up until the point that a heavy weight suddenly bounced onto the mattress beside him. Begrudgingly curious, Hyrule flipped the edge of the blanket up to see Wild lying down beside him, sprawled obnoxiously across the acres of misappropriated real estate between the edge of the bed and Hyrule’s curled up form.

‘Twi said to give you space,’ Wild informed him. ‘I like him a lot, but in this case: he’s full of shit.’

There was a hint of uncertainty in Wild’s eyes matched by a slight tremble in his voice, but his posture suggested that he was very much there to stay, whether Hyrule liked it or not. Hyrule scowled and turned away, shoving his face into the sheets. Wild merely rolled closer and draped an arm over him.

‘Deal with it,’ Wild suggested in response to Hyrule’s disgruntled murmur. ‘Consider this revenge for the time you promised to punch me if I ever hid injuries from you again. Friends don’t let friends withdraw from society and live in a cave and all that. Or is ignoring personal boundaries a doctor’s special privilege?’

Hyrule let out a huff of reluctant amusement. ‘It’s specifically not a doctor’s special privilege.’

‘Oh?’ Seizing on his unwilling response, Wild asked, ‘In what sense?’

Hyrule paused to gather his thoughts, then explained, ‘Well, for one: doctors aren’t supposed to punch you. Supposed to heal, not harm and all that. And two: they’re not supposed to pressure you into doing anything you’re uncomfortable with. I mean, even if you were bleeding out and you told a doctor not to help you – supposing you weren’t clearly delirious or anything – then they’re supposed to let you make your own lousy decisions. Yes, they can tell you about the consequences of those decisions, and if they’re a particularly good doctor they might even suggest another option – like giving you the bandages and telling you what to do if touch is the problem, or calling for help if the doctor is the problem – but if you flat out reject their help, they don’t get to just do whatever they want and ignore your opinion.’

‘Huh.’ Wild paused to consider. ‘So, does that mean you won’t actually punch me if I hide injuries?’

‘No, it just means I’m a lousy doctor,’ Hyrule said flatly. ‘What else is new?’

Wild hummed thoughtfully. ‘I mean, you’re over a hundred years younger than me and you still know way more than I do about medicine. As doctors go, that’s pretty impressive. Friendly threats of physical violence and all.’

Hyrule scowled, but left it there. Wild went quiet for a long moment before tapping Hyrule’s arm for attention once again. ‘What?’ the latter asked grumpily.

‘You can… have a bit of faith, you know?’ Wild said hesitantly. ‘In yourself, of course, and in Legend. Just because we don’t know what happened doesn’t mean it was something bad. Maybe someone helped him, or maybe he even left on his own power. Until we know for sure, there’s no reason to assume the worst, right?

‘He’s tough, right? And resourceful. I bet he’s been through plenty of worse situations and come out on top. He is the “veteran”, after all, right?’

‘Yeah,’ Hyrule murmured. ‘Yeah, he is. I know. You’re probably right.’ It was true after all; for all Hyrule’s panic, Legend was ten times the hero he had ever been. Hyrule sighed. ‘Thanks, Wild,’ he said glumly. ‘Ever the optimist, huh?’

Except that that wasn’t true at all, a part of him noted abruptly, and Hyrule’s posture went rigid for a moment before he rolled to face Wild, carefully inspecting his startled face.

‘What?’ asked Wild. ‘What is it? Did I say something wrong?! I’m sorry, I didn’t –’

‘Are you ok?’ Hyrule asked directly. Wild only continued to look confused, so he clarified, ‘I know I made the bigger fuss back there, but this can’t be easy for you, either. How are you holding up?’

Inexplicably, Wild laughed. ‘You – you’re asking me that?! Seriously?’

Hyrule frowned. ‘Of course I’m asking you that. You and Lege seem pretty close. Not to mention…’ He trailed off wondering if there was a non-offensive way of stating the next part. Probably not. ‘I mean, you uh, seem to have a bit of a habit for assuming the worst. Not that I don’t do that too, but…’

‘Oh. Well…’ Wild hesitated, looking vaguely guilty. ‘In this case at least… I really do think he’s ok. Not to be dismissive or anything, but… Twilight said it earlier, right? Those people that come from the other realm – the “Twili”, I think he called them – they’re not necessarily bad or anything, right? Maybe they saw that Legend was injured and decided to help?’

Hyrule’s frown deepened. ‘Why just Legend, then?’ he asked. ‘Why not Wind or Warriors? They were hurt too.’

‘W-well, maybe – maybe they didn’t realise?’ Wild stuttered. ‘Or maybe they could only help one person? Neither of those two saw it, r-right? Anything could have happened, in between when Wind and Wars lost consciousness and when we got there. I – I only meant that we didn’t have to assume –’

Wild was starting to look somewhat distressed, and Hyrule abruptly felt like a bully. ‘You’re right,’ he acknowledged. ‘We don’t know for sure.’ In a show of peace, he sat up, retrieved the steaming mug left on the bedside table and took a long sip, sighing gratefully at the warmth and sweetness.

Wild shifted beside him. ‘Uh… so am I allowed to ask how you are now?’ he queried cautiously.

Hyrule snorted. ‘I’m not going to run off anymore, if that’s what you’re wondering.’

‘Well, it wasn’t,’ Wild informed him. ‘Good to know, I guess, but for the record: if you did want to run off and do your own thing – and supposing you weren’t clearly delirious or anything, as you say – I’d be the one providing the distraction, not the one standing in your way. Got bombs and everything, if you need ’em.’

Hyrule grimaced. Perhaps Wild was joking, but it seemed to Hyrule that there was a touch too much sincerity to the offer. ‘Probably a bad idea,’ he replied. ‘Just slap some sense back into me next time; I’ll be good.’

‘I won’t,’ Wild said cheerfully.

‘You won’t slap me, or you won’t be good?’ Hyrule asked in between sips of tea.

Wild nodded solemnly, and replied, ‘Yes.’

Hyrule hummed lightly, thinking back to the time Wild had teleported away from receiving medical treatment. And the time Wild had bombed himself up a cliff to avoid receiving medical treatment. And the time Wild had used some form of time-manipulation magic to freeze Hyrule in place in order to avoid receiving medical treatment.

‘You and I are gonna fight someday, huh?’ Hyrule remarked.

‘We are?’

‘Yeah, probably.’

Wild gave a confused thumbs up. ‘So, anyway,’ he continued, ‘how are you feeling right now?’

Hyrule shrugged. ‘Like shit.’

‘Want a hug?’ Wild asked mercifully.

And, for the moment at least, Hyrule chose not to think overly hard about what he did and did not deserve. He set his mug back down on the bedside table, opened his arms and bluntly replied, ‘I would fucking love a hug.’

That was all the invitation Wild needed.

With exhaustion tugging on Hyrule a little harder than he’d realised, he was unsure at which point sitting and leaning into Wild had transitioned into lying down and being cuddled by Wild. He was relatively sure tears had been involved at some point, if the faintly embarrassing memory and the highly embarrassing wet patch on Wild’s shirt were any indication.

‘Wind said something weird, before,’ a half-aware Hyrule murmured blearily, voice muffled by blankets and by Wild’s chest.

‘About the ice rod?’

‘No. Before that. Back when we found him, shortly after he woke up.’

‘What then?’

‘He said I was there. Back when Legend was there. He sounded so sure of it.’ He sniffled tiredly. ‘Wish I had been. I should’ve been.’

Wild went quiet for a long moment – long enough that Hyrule almost drifted off before the response reached him. ‘It’ll be alright, Roolie,’ Wild said in a strangely stifled tone. ‘He’ll be alright. I promise.’

Awareness came slowly and regrettably, accompanied by a potent full body ache, a sharper pain in his lower back, a pulsing agony in his temples and a dizzy weakness in his limbs that hinted at magic exhaustion, physical exhaustion, blood loss or some cursed combination of the three.

Well. It was official, then: Legend’s life sucked.

The inside of his mouth tasted disgusting, and he took a moment to dislodge and spit out whatever vaguely concerning mixture of blood, dirt, bile and red potion had managed to cake itself upon his hard palate.

Second problem: Legend was fairly sure there was a muddy puddle beneath him. His face was outside of it, thankfully, but he would actually rather not have his torso be stuck swimming in it either. Unfortunately, his body didn’t seem to want to move. Fortunately, Legend didn’t give a damn. With several embarrassing grunts of exertion and pain, he reached for the pouches at his belt –

Which were, of course, missing.

Naturally.

He switched targets and reached for his collar instead. The gold chain that carried his medallions was already loose, half-submerged in the aforementioned muddy puddle. His clumsy fingers eventually snagged the woven cord he wore alongside it, and he tugged carefully until a small pouch came free.

Legend’s tired lips twitched in a smug smile. Paranoid, his foot: they didn’t call him “veteran” for nothing.

The emergency pouch was designed to be discreet, so it couldn’t store much: just a flint, a folding pocket knife, a vial of blue potion, and an only slightly larger water flask equipped with an inbuilt filter. He fumbled clumsily for the potion, heard a splash as one of the two bottles fell, and finally cursed and opened his eyes.

Perhaps, in retrospect, he should have started with that one.

Prone on the ground as he was, he couldn’t glean much of his surroundings. They largely boiled down to “a bunch of trees”, which bore a shocking similarity to the several other bunches of trees Legend had found himself amidst at various other points in his adventuring life. Not the healthiest of trees, but not the worst he’d seen either. Utterly mundane, really, as trees went. The sky, though? The sky was weird.

Dark clouds painted a dismal mural across the rich yellow-orange shades of either dawn or dusk. Pulses of dark magic flurried through the air, dense enough for Legend to see with his bare eyes and certainly dense enough to feel once he was paying attention. He shuddered unhappily at the sensation, then shuddered again as the various aches in his body reminded him of their presence.

He was alone. Thinking back through his confused memories of the previous night, he deduced that Wind and Warriors at least should be somewhere nearby, but he doubted they would have willingly left his side if so, considering how bad he felt. Warriors in particular would definitely have bandaged up the fresh scabs Legend could feel on his back. Whatever left those long, shallow scratches would’ve had to strike pretty hard to cut through two layers of fairy-enchanted fabric. Captain Hair Gel had a tendency to fuss over that sort of thing, and it wasn’t as if the poor little pirate kid would have been overly chuffed about it either.

So. Based on the sudden change in surroundings and the sudden presence of so much dark magic, strong maybe for having shifted worlds while he was unconscious. If he had to guess, his location would have to be either Hyrule’s era or a time and place their group had yet to visit.

He cast a dubious eye over the murky black puddle he was sprawled over, suddenly significantly less happy about being sprawled over said puddle. Hyrule had given extensive warnings about the danger of tainted water in his world, especially in areas with high concentrations of dark magic. This particular area definitely met that criteria. Needs being what they must however, he retrieved the dropped potion, wiped it off on his filthy, sodden tunic, and, observing the intact cork with a sceptical eye, promptly popped the vial open and drank its contents in a single gulp.

A small amount of the pain and weakness in his body eased. His headache remained as sharp as ever. Grumbling a complaint over senile old potion witches and their shoddy merchandise – because like hell was he going to acknowledge that sinking feeling that something else had gone badly wrong – Legend clambered slowly and shakily to his feet.

The increased elevation gave no further clues as to his location. A bunch of trees, a big and suspicious looking puddle, an extremely bad headache coupled with the niggling sensation that he was about to pass out again at any moment, and yep: Legend still had no fucking idea where he was.

The knife from his emergency supplies wasn’t much as far as weapons went, but he managed to scrounge up a reasonably sturdy stick that would serve in the absence of anything better. It was no wooden sword, of course, nor a boomerang or slingslot or even that one really good rock from Subrosia, but he’d take it. Could probably do without that renewed surge of pain, though. Ignoring it as best he could, Legend picked a random direction and stubbornly began to walk.

The others were surely somewhere near, he decided. For as little stock as Legend placed in the gods and their divine whims, they’d normally let him at least finish whatever quest he was in the middle of before sending him off on another. If he walked for long enough, he was sure to find some sort of clue.

A keese flew at his face and he clumsily batted it down, along with a second keese a moment later. His stick broke. Legend spent a few moments in mourning, then swiftly found another. They really didn’t make sticks like they used to, he mused.

He hadn’t been walking for long at all before the familiar sensation of magic exhaustion started to tug on him yet again. Rude, really, considering a) the blue potion he’d drunk (albeit a small portion), and b) the fact that he hadn’t actually used any magic since then. Not intentionally, at least, though perhaps that puddle had been tainted after all, and perhaps his magic had stepped in to fight it off on his behalf.

Perhaps, for that matter, he’d better sit down, some part of Legend’s mind suggested brightly.

He kept walking.

It was, unfortunately, getting harder and harder to keep walking – Legend’s best efforts notwithstanding. All too soon, he stumbled and fell, shuddering from the pulsing pain wracking his body.

He could eventually, resentfully accept it: perhaps this level of agony was just a little worse than usual. Not that he couldn’t weather it, just that maybe he needed to pause for a moment and –

‘Khh –!’ Legend’s eyes bugged in his skull and a strangled vocalisation fell from his mouth as something in his strained magic abruptly gave way against the continued pressure. The pain spiked to unimaginable levels, worse than anything he’d ever experienced. Worse than being stabbed in the gut, worse than being struck by lightning, worse than –

Oh.

Actually, he had felt this way before. How could he possibly forget?

‘Nngh – n-no,’ he gasped, cringing into the ground as he struggled helplessly against the foreign magic twisting across his body.

Every part of him fought back. Every part of him revolted at the sensation. None of him was strong enough to resist.

The transformation started at the tips of his limbs and worked its way inwards. His body shrivelled up, sprouting claws and fur. His shrinking heart beat a frantic pace against a thin, delicate chest as a panicking Legend sought out fingers that had suddenly turned into stubbly little toes. He outright screamed as his ears shifted into a new position on his head.

It was hard to know for sure how long it took for the agonising sequence to conclude, leaving Legend gasping for the air to fill a too-small pair of lungs. He stood on wobbly feet and lifted his gaze, only to be confronted by another puddle of dark water that displayed his new form all too clearly.

A squat, fluffy body. A pair of long, floppy ears. Four paws, each very much lacking the necessary dexterity to wield a stick, let alone a sword.

‘Well,’ the bright pink rabbit said faintly, ‘fuck my entire life.’

Chapter Text

Link’s head ached. His limbs were heavy. There was a dryness in his throat, a buzzing in his ears and a chill deep in his bones that suggested he was, medically speaking, pretty damn lucky to be alive.

A few grumbles of pain escaped his lips as he made an ineffective attempt to sit up, blinking his eyes open to the hazy mess of pillows and blankets that formed quite possibly the smallest and least organised field hospital he’d ever had the dubious pleasure of visiting. Gods, everyone was just sprawled on top of each other; who the hell was in charge of the place?

‘Captain? Hey – are you awake?!’

Ah. Wasn’t that the kid? His voice sounded a little deeper than usual, but the accent and inflection were familiar enough.

With effort, Link turned his head towards the enquiry and croaked back, ‘’M awake.’ He coughed at the strain on his dry throat and winced at the noise. He hoped it wasn’t as loud to the other patients as it sounded to him.

Panicked hands briefly fluttered over him before Mask seemed to come to a sudden realisation. ‘Stay right there,’ he commanded. ‘Don't go back to sleep. I’ll just –’

Link grinned blearily as he waited out whatever vague interval it took the kid to scurry off, return, hastily yank Link upright (ouch, his woozy head did not like that) and press a warm cup to his lips. Befuddled by his carer’s abrasive bedside manner, Link obediently drank almost half of the mixture down before he even registered the bizarre salty, sugary, mineral taste. He gagged in disgust and turned his face away.

‘Hey – no! Stop that!’ Mask argued desperately. ‘Please. You lost a lot of blood. You need fluids.’

‘Tha’s salt water,’ Link rasped petulantly. ‘Salt water’s f’r fish. You tryin’ to poison me, sprite?’

He’d intended it as nothing more than a gentle tease, yet at the sound of the familiar nickname, Mask flinched visibly, eyes going – eye going wide.

Midway through a startled apology, Link switched focus. ‘Hey, what happened t’your eye, sprite?’ he asked, extending a wobbly hand towards his younger brother’s face – and not quite reaching, oddly enough. ‘An’ when’d you get so big?’

Mask hesitated, avoiding his gaze. ‘I’ve, uh, been this size for a while, captain.’

Link promptly misplaced the first half of his thought process and gave Mask a dismal stare over what remained. By logical process of elimination, he asked, ‘Did I shrink?’

The corner of Mask’s mouth twitched. ‘It’s possible,’ he replied thoughtfully. ‘In fact, I hear that shrinking is quite common among heroes. The Hero of the Four Sword in particular was famous for it. He’s your predecessor, right? All things considered, it’s certainly not unreasonable to expect that you’ll get shorter as you age.’

Link didn’t like that. ‘Don’ like that,’ he declared unhappily. He was already shorter than most of the other commanders in Zelda’s army; he refused to end up shorter than his little brother.

Mask gave a rudely blasé shrug. ‘Better drink up then,’ he suggested. ‘The doctor mixed up a special potion to stop you from shrivelling up any further, and for all we know, it might work vertically as well as horizontally. And in whatever the other axis is called, I suppose.’

‘Th’ applicate axis?’ Link suggested hesitantly. Thinking was hard. Retaining a consistent train of thought was hard. Recalling long-forgotten Maths classes was hard too, and come to think of it: ‘Actually, wazzat one the abscissa? Orb sister? Abs mister? I forget…’

‘Drink the damn medicine, you nerd.’

Link reluctantly caved to his younger brother’s bullying and drank. It was probably alright, he decided. Mask wouldn’t hurt him. Not intentionally, at least. And admittedly, Link did feel a lot less like a sun-dried redead by the time the empty cup was finally pulled away, so perhaps that mysterious “medicine” was good for something after all.

Back to more important matters, then. He shifted his gaze, wet his lips and asked, ‘Say. You doin’ a’right there, sprite? Didn’ get hurt ’t all, did’ya?’

‘Me?!’ Mask demanded incredulously. ‘You’re the one who –’ He cast a guilty glance down at Link’s abdomen and changed tack. ‘Never mind. You need to drink some more before you fall asleep again.’

‘Water?’ Link asked hopefully.

With an entirely characteristic lack of mercy, Mask thrust another cupful of warm, salty, sugary liquid against his lips.

Link groaned dramatically. ‘Kids th’se days,’ he complained in between sips. ‘No respect f’r th’r elders.’

‘You’re not that old, captain.’

Link rolled his eyes. ‘Older th’n you. ’N where’s the doctor, anyways? Shouldn’a left a kid in charge of things.’

Mask frowned. ‘The doctor was tired and sad. He was going to stick around to take care of you, but I convinced him to go bed.’

Link grimaced. ‘No pranks in the hospital, sprite,’ he warned. ‘Tha’s a war crime.’

Mask sighed. Setting the cup to one side, he carefully laid Link back down and ran a shaky hand over his own face. ‘Go to sleep, captain,’ he said wearily. ‘This will all make much more sense after you’ve rested, I’m sure.’

‘Can’ sleep yet, sprite. You didn’t answer the question,’ Link protested.

Mask’s face furrowed in confusion. ‘And what question is that?’

‘Status?’ Link said patiently. He couldn’t trust his eyes; it was dark inside the hospital and they kept refusing to focus properly. Instead, he carefully prodded Mask’s side, checking for any injuries the kid might have neglected out of worry for Link’s own wellbeing.

‘Dear Malon. This again?’ Warriors heard Mask mutter irritably. Slightly louder, he replied, ‘I’m fine, captain. You’re the one who got hurt. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.’

‘Hey, no!’ Link protested, making a weak attempt to sit up, only to be halted by a set of firm hands on his shoulders. ‘You’re jus’ a kid, sprite,’ he said stubbornly, struggling to keep his voice low enough for the other patients. ‘Not your job to look after me. Don’t like you goin’ out to fight at that age, but if you’re gonna do it anyway then you gotta make sure your own safety’s the priority, not mine. An’ I’m fine, anyway. Promise. Be up ’n’ fighting again in no time; you’ll see.’

Mask withdrew and turned away. ‘Yeah,’ he said hoarsely. ‘In no time. Just… I promise I’ll be cautious, but you have to take care too, alright? Don’t waste your time worrying about me.’

‘Always gonna worry about you, sprite,’ Link grumbled. ‘’S a big brother’s duty.’

Mask shifted discomfortedly. ‘I’m the big brother now, captain. It’s my turn to fuss.’

‘Nuh way, sprite,’ Link scoffed. ‘Doesn’ matter how much I shrink or how big you get; you’re still my precious li’l baby bro.’ The words seemed terribly insufficient, especially considering the heart-breaking flinch Mask responded with, so Link used the small amount of strength still available in him to flop over and wrap both arms around his sibling. ‘Love yuuu,’ he slurred.

‘I –’ Mask’s breathing caught. ‘I love you too, captain. Really, really do. But please don’t get yourself hurt like this again. If the stress doesn’t kill me, my wife might. I mean, she probably wouldn’t literally kill me, but I don’t know how I’d ever face her again if I –’

Link snorted. ‘Can’t get married yet, sprite. Y’re baby. Babies can’ get married. But y’know –’ He smiled fuzzily. ‘– Tha’s the firs’ time y’ actually said it back, y’know?’

‘What?’

‘The firs’ time you said you love me too,’ Link explained. ‘No’ that I couldn’ tell, jus’… nice t’ hear it. Almost worth gettin’ injured, jus’ f’r that.’ He chuckled. ‘Could do withou’ the gross medicine, though.’

‘I… I really never said it back before now?’ Mask said haltingly. ‘Not ever?’

‘Hey, no, ’s okay, sprite,’ Link said quickly. ‘Doesn’ ev’n matter. ’Cause ev’n if you don’ say it, an’ ev’n if you don’ mean it, I’ll still say it, an’ I’ll still mean it. Don’ need anythin’ from you. Jus’ want you to be happy. Tha’s all.’

He was already more than halfway back to sleep by the time Mask’s quiet response finally reached his ears. ‘But I… I want you to be happy too, captain. How could… how could I have…?’

Too tired to give much more of a response, Link merely smiled and clumsily patted Mask’s back. He had to hope that was enough to get the message across.

Mask had nothing to worry about, after all. With such a wonderful little brother caring for him, how could Link not be happy?

Time had been right: everything made much more sense after Warriors had rested. To an unfortunate degree, really.

‘What the hell, old man?’ he griped, burying his bright red face in his hands.

Good news: Warriors had not, in fact, shrunk. Not to any noticeable degree on the ordinate axis at least. Bad news: he had absolutely made a fool of himself in front of his grown-up younger brother, who had, for whatever goddess-damned awful reason, decided to play along with his wild ramblings.

No, but wasn’t that exactly what one was supposed to do with a delirious person? Keep them calm, keep them grounded, avoid startling or confusing them, definitely don’t help convince them that they suddenly shrank to half their usual size –

‘You Hylia-forsaken oversized gremlin fey child,’ he groused.

Time had played along almost too well, to the extent that even a lucid Warriors found himself wondering at the boundary between fact and fiction. But there was no way that Time actually remembered their past together, was there?

‘I’m the big brother now, captain.’

‘I really never said it back? Not ever?’

…

It wasn’t possible, was it?

Warriors shook the thought away and carefully sat up. He was still a little woozy, but it was bearable enough. His vision spun for only a few moments before clearing to reveal a brightly lit room, an empty bedroll at his side and the slumped figure of Sky snoozing on a nearby armchair. His eyes flickered curiously to the door and the shimmering, green-tinged ball of magic that hung above it. One of Time’s own spells, he seemed to recall. Some sort of teleportation magic, perhaps? But why would Time have –?

Memory struck with sudden force, and Warriors’s eyes widened as they snapped back to the vacant bedroll and then across the room in a panic that only eased as he registered the sound of voices emanating from the kitchen. Wind, at least, was accounted for, as was at least one other companion besides Sky, though their voice was a little too muffled to be recognisable. It couldn’t possibly be Legend, could it? No, that was probably a little too much to hope for…

Climbing to his feet was more of an ordeal than it had any right to be, but with a few tactical assists from the nearby furniture, Warriors managed well enough and was only sweating a little as he stumbled into the kitchen and accidentally knocked a pan off the counter. He gave a feeble wave as Wind and Four both startled at the noise and turned to face him.

‘Wars – you’re up!’ Four exclaimed, followed by a far less enthusiastic, ‘Wait, no; sit the fuck back down.’

Wind promptly seized matters into his own hands, tackling Warriors in an embrace with enough force to knock him back against the counter and then down to the floor. Warriors wheezed out a laugh and took the opportunity to comb through Wind’s hair in search of the younger hero’s own injury.

‘Hyrule already took care of it, dumbass,’ Wind complained, just as a relieved Warriors arrived at the same conclusion.

‘No harm in checking,’ he pointed out. Wind’s eyes were clear and the wound itself practically invisible, but Warriors knew that even the best magical healing didn’t negate the need for rest and recovery. There was more than enough residual exhaustion in Wind’s face for Warriors to fuss over, and so, ignoring the resulting litany of complaints and cucco impressions, he continued his careful inspection until a small, calloused hand rudely tilted his chin up towards Four’s sharp gaze.

‘How are you feeling, Captain Dumbass?’ Four asked in a deeply unimpressed, if slightly stuffy, tone. ‘Oh, and before you answer: keep in mind that if you lie about your injuries again, I’m going to kick the shit out of you.’

Warriors shrugged, not particularly repentant about his efforts in ensuring that Wind’s injuries got the focus they needed the previous night – for all that Four’s dangerous expression suggested that he had better find some repentance, and quickly. Although… looking at said dangerous expression a little closer…

‘I’m still not great, but much better than I was,’ Warriors answered truthfully, if only to get it out of the way. ‘What about you? You’re looking a little feverish. Did you catch a cold or something?’

Four made a face as Warriors went to check the temperature of his flushed forehead. ‘You know, I’ve heard it said that idiots can’t catch colds,’ he remarked with a disagreeable sniffle. ‘Makes sense that I’m the only one who ended up sick after all that running around in the rain yesterday.’

‘You did pass out from exhaustion earlier in the evening, not to even mention the effect the portals have on you,’ Warriors pointed out. ‘Of course you were going to get sick. You pushed yourself way too hard.’ He grimaced. ‘Sorry about – I mean, thanks for that, by the way.’

Four gave an intrigued hum followed by a sniffle and a cough. ‘Ah, emotional maturity: what a rare surprise. You and Wind are both very welcome, and you can both thank me by going the fuck back to bed.’ He eyed Warriors for a moment, then amended, ‘Actually, no, never mind: stay there while I go grab some backup. Try not to have any more medical emergencies in the meantime.’

‘You’re going to go poke the sleeping bear?’ Warriors guessed, jerking his head in Sky’s direction. ‘Now that’s a medical emergency waiting to happen.’

‘Ha, ha,’ Four deadpanned. With an exasperated shrug, he left the room.

After a brief pause, Wind shifted in Warriors’s lap. ‘You’re shivering,’ he mumbled.

Warriors hadn’t noticed. ‘It’s a cold morning,’ he said defensively.

‘It’s warm in here. And it’s almost noon.’

‘Noon?!’ Warriors repeated sharply. His head whipped back towards the window, where, sure enough, he could see bright golden sunlight streaming through the curtains.

His heart dropped.

Unless Legend had made a miraculous appearance overnight – and clearly, he hadn’t – “noon” meant that the others must have been searching for hours already, without waking Warriors at that. He had the vague sense that he’d been conscious for at least some of the previous night’s planning, but the details were hazy. He chewed his lip agitatedly, torn between demanding answers and maintaining a calm façade for Wind’s sake.

There were a few aspects that he could guess easily enough. Twilight and Time would be leading the group, the former due to his knowledge of the era and latter for both his natural charisma and regional knowledge. There was no way Hyrule would have agreed to stay behind, and Warriors couldn’t see Wild around either, so he had clearly won any necessary arguments for his position on the search party. That made four – less than half of their usual number against whatever other surprises Twilight’s era had to throw at them.

He fought to remind himself that their entire group was made up of skilled fighters, that it didn’t matter that Warriors himself wasn’t there to defend them, that in his current condition, he would only have gotten in their way, and that –

‘…I’m sorry.’

It took a moment for Warriors to register the murmur from below. ‘What was that?’ he asked, belatedly turning his gaze back towards the child still seated in his lap.

There was a brief pause before Wind turned a bright, careless smile back on him. ‘“What was that” yourself. Did you need something?’

Warriors frowned, surveying Wind’s guileless expression for a moment. ‘Wind,’ he began seriously, ‘you do know that yesterday wasn’t your fault, right? That it isn’t your fault that I got hurt, or that Four got sick or… and that whatever happened to Legend isn’t your fault either?’

Wind’s smile slipped. ‘Sure,’ he said. ‘Kind of like how you know it wasn’t your fault, right?’

Ouch.

‘Sure,’ Warriors agreed with as much confidence as he could muster. Factually, it was at least mostly correct, even if the insistent twinge of guilt in his chest said otherwise.

‘You’re a shitty liar,’ Wind replied, sounding oddly comforted by that fact. He sighed as he leaned in to tuck his head in under Warriors’s chin, the latter obligingly wrapping both arms around him. A few moments later, a muffled voice announced, ‘This whole situation fucking sucks.’

Warriors snorted. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed. ‘It does, doesn’t it?’

It was hard to banish Legend’s agonised grimace from his thoughts, hard not to worry about his fate, for all that Warriors knew his friend was strong and capable. Hard not to think of how panicked Time had been or how much Hyrule must be struggling with the loss of his greatest source of support and reassurance. And what of Twilight and Four and whatever they had been saying about that other world? What about Wild, still so new and unsure, with everything falling apart around him?

Wind, at least, was within reach. Wind, at least, Warriors could help.

‘Honestly, though, saying the situation “fucking sucks” is a bit of an understatement,’ Warriors said aloud. ‘Is that really the limit of your sailor speak?’

Wind bristled, whether at the attack on his honour or the blatant attempt at manipulation, but replied nonetheless, ‘It sucks harder than a black-blooded big octo drinking barnacles off the bilge.’

Warriors gave him a patronising head pat. ‘Alliteration, huh? Fancy. Anything else?’

‘Fuck you. It sucks harder than Time sucks up to his wife, Hyrule sucks at cooking and Twilight sucks at keeping furry secrets.’

‘Huh? I get the first two, but what’s up with the third? Not that there’s anything wrong with Twilight picking up a hobby or a pet or a fursona on the side, but since when –?’

‘It sucks harder than you suck at basic deduction, you meathead moblin.’

‘Alright, see now I’m insulted.’

‘Good. And while I’m at it, this situation sucks harder than –’

As Wind continued to wax lyrical, Warriors smiled and leaned back against the counter, exhaustion slowly slackening his grip and blurring his thoughts. He was already well on his way back to sleep by the time a hand suddenly slammed against the cabinet behind him.

He jerked awake and exchanged a startled glance with Wind before they both turned their gazes towards the saccharine smile and shadowy, sleep-deprived eyes of a man who once killed a god.

‘Oh,’ Warriors said faintly. ‘Uh… hello, Sky. Good morning.’

‘Good morning, Warriors! Good morning, Wind!’ Sky said brightly. ‘Good to see you’re feeling better. Pretty fucking lousy to see you out of bed, though, all near-death experiences considered.’

Warriors didn’t quite know what to say to that. With growing trepidation, he inspected the bags beneath Sky’s eyes, and asked, ‘Did you, uh, sleep alright?’

Probably not the cleverest enquiry to make, in retrospect. Sky’s cheerful grin widened dangerously.

‘I slept like shit,’ he informed them. ‘Nightmares. Gut-churning anxiety. Memories of past failings. Vague yet terrifying visions of the future. Three dear companions, two recently injured and one currently unwell, who think their health and wellbeing is a fucking game. I kept waking up in the middle of the night and struggling to get back to sleep. No fun at all; would not recommend.’

It occurred to Warriors around that time that Four, who had gone to wake Sky, was nowhere to be seen. In fact, things had gone oddly quiet in that area of the house.

Pushing that strange sense of foreboding from his mind, Warriors gave a winsome smile. ‘Well,’ he began, ‘as you can see, I’m fine, and so is Wind. And with that in mind –’

There was a creaking noise from the spot where Sky’s hand rested on the cabinet. Warriors gulped.

‘Here’s what’s going to happen,’ Sky said bleakly. ‘I’m going to carry both of you back to bed, then I’m going to wrap you both in blankets, then I’m going to give you both some medicine and water and soup and maybe some pumpkin scones if you’re good, then you are going to lie down, and I’m going to lie down right on top of you if that’s what it takes, and then you are going to sleep.’

‘Fine,’ Warriors conceded, because he clearly didn’t have many other options in this matter. Admittedly, he was tired anyway. Not to mention that the sooner he recovered, the sooner he could join the search for Legend. ‘I guess a few extra hours of downtime wouldn’t hurt,’ he mused. ‘Just give me a briefing on the current state so I can help plan while I rest. I still have no idea –’

‘Nope,’ said Sky.

Warriors frowned. ‘What?’

Sky’s unhinged smile made a triumphant return. ‘Nooooooooope,’ he sang, just as slow as he seemed to think Warriors was being.

Warriors levelled him an unimpressed stare, but eventually shrugged and let it go. He was an expert negotiator, after all; he could wait for a better opportunity to get his way. Or just ask Four. That was probably the safer option, if he was honest. Sky seemed to be having a bad day.

With that decided, Warriors gathered Wind up in wobbly arms and offered him to Sky. ‘Here,’ he said. ‘If you carry him, I can probably handle walking on my own.’

Wind shoved free from Warriors’s grip. ‘Uh, no, if anyone’s getting carried around here, it’s you,’ he said incredulously. ‘You’re dazed, exhausted and freezing. You can barely even stand on your own. All I ended up with was a minor concussion. I’m fine.’

‘Concussions aren’t minor,’ Warriors said severely. ‘Sky’s right; you should be resting right now.’

‘I should be resting?’ Wind snapped. ‘You’re the dumbass that needs to –’

With Wind still seated in Warriors’s lap, Sky slipped one arm beneath Warriors’s knees and the other behind his back, and then, perhaps drawing on an extra ten percent or so of the deicidal power that he typically kept in reserve, promptly lifted both patients into a double-decker bridal hold and carried them back into the other room.

‘Huh,’ said Wind. ‘That works too, I guess.’

Chapter Text

As they finally crossed the last of the thin wooden bridges that spanned Faron’s Passage, Twilight saw Time’s steps slow to a stop. He signalled to Wild and Hyrule with a raised arm and the three of them watched their leader’s eye rove across the deep crevice and over the cliffs beyond.

‘Almost there now,’ Time announced eventually.

‘Yes,’ Twilight confirmed, though it hadn’t sounded like a question. ‘There’s an old stone archway up ahead. Officially speaking, that marks the entrance to the Lost Woods.’

Time nodded to himself. ‘The geography’s changed quite significantly from my own era,’ he admitted. ‘I suppose I should have expected that.’

‘Has it really changed that much?’ Twilight asked curiously. ‘A few centuries shouldn’t make that much of a difference, surely.’

‘In a volatile place like this, I suppose they do,’ Time replied. He gestured back in the direction of the Forest Temple and explained, ‘Kokiri Forest was all the way back over there, once. I can still see traces of it. Not many traces, but enough. Here’s hoping the rest of it moved rather than vanished, though I suppose we’ll find out soon enough.’

Twilight’s thoughts strayed to their conversation of the other day: “nostalgia”, Time had called it – a word that had seemed woefully inadequate even at that moment, and seemed almost laughable in the face of the sheer bitterness and grief that suffused Time’s last statement.

Twilight glanced over to Hyrule and Wild, the former shuffling from foot to foot, throwing constant impatient glances at the path ahead, and the latter oddly still, eyes shadowed by clear sleep deprivation and by the hood of his cloak. Twilight’s gaze was then caught once again by the two sword hilts that jutted over Hyrule’s shoulders: the familiar, ruby studded silver of the traveller’s own weapon within easy reach on his left side and the gleaming blue and green of Legend’s version of the Master Sword placed defiantly on his right. ‘He’ll want his sword when we find him,’ Hyrule had declared in response to Twilight’s inquisitive look that morning. ‘I left his other stuff with Sky for safekeeping, but he’ll definitely want his sword. I’m not leaving that behind.’

Twilight considered for a moment, brows knitting, then looked back to Time and asked, ‘Can a whole forest move?’

‘Probably not in the way you’re thinking,’ Time qualified, seeming unbothered by the long pause – if he’d even noticed. He continued, ‘The centre of Kokiri Forest is a guardian spirit called the Great Deku Tree. It produces the energy that sustains the Kokiri through their long lives, and the Kokiri rely on it to survive. If the Great Deku Tree moves, the Kokiri would have to move as well, and wherever they settled would become the new Kokiri Forest. They would have had to move, I think.’ His eye tightened. ‘All those deku baba along the way were as clear a sign as any: this area isn’t suitable for a guardian spirit to thrive. There’s too much poison in the soil.’

Hyrule abruptly stiffened, swinging to face Time. ‘Poison?’

‘Dark magic,’ Time replied bitterly. ‘Ganondorf planted that initial seed, though I never expected it to grow to this extent. I thought I’d cleansed the woods of the worst of it and that the new Deku Tree would deal with what remained. Either I was wrong, or something else crept in over the years.’ He turned back to the path. ‘I suppose it makes no difference now. We should keep moving.’

‘Hold it,’ Twilight said, planting himself firmly in Time’s path as the other made to move past. A part of him quailed at the irritated look Time gave him, but he steadied his resolve and continued, ‘Old man, you’re the one who said to be careful with these woods. If they really have changed from what you remember: is your plan still going to work? Or do we need to make a new one? You need to tell us now – before we charge in.’

Time’s annoyed look persisted for a few moments more before smoothing over as he replied, ‘You’re absolutely right. My apologies.’ He paused to consider, then answered, ‘At this point, nothing’s changed. My preference is to find a guide, but if we can’t then we’ll just have to proceed slowly and carefully without one. If we can’t make any real progress, I’ll teleport us out and we’ll have to try again from the beginning. I can probably only do that once per day at most, mind you, considering the magic drain involved – four people at once is already a stretch – not to mention that it could lose us some time – lowercase “time” that is, Malon willing –’

Three heroes gazed at the fourth with deeply unimpressed expressions.

‘Ahem. Tough audience, I see.’ Time coughed lightly. ‘Well. As I was saying. I think we proceed as planned. Either we succeed in contacting my own friend or we see if we can find yours – Twilight’s friend, I mean – and if neither of those options are possible, then we deal with the rest as it comes.’

‘“Friend” is probably a bit of a stretch in my case,’ Twilight pointed out with a slight grimace. ‘I mean, they did guide me through the woods before, but they also tried to kill me several times along the way.’

‘Still friendlier than most forest kids,’ Time commented offhandedly. ‘They’re not fond of adults.’

Well, that was reassuring. ‘And your own friend?’ Twilight pressed. ‘What’s the plan there?’

‘Did I not explain that already?’ Time asked, startled.

No, and Twilight hadn’t had the guts to press him for it. ‘Humour me,’ he said.

Time indicated to the ocarina on his belt. ‘My friend taught me a song to communicate with her from afar,’ he explained. ‘I played it before we left and intended to play it again when we got closer. If she’s still around, she’ll definitely have heard it, but the problem is that my half of the connection only works when I’m close.

‘See, the Kokiri all have strong senses, as well as fairy companions that can enhance their perception even further. That’s what makes them so good at navigating these woods. Thanks to my upbringing, my senses are a little better than your average Hylian, but I am just a Hylian. Without a companion fairy to help me, the best I can do is hope that that friend of mine either comes to meet with us in person or uses her own ocarina to guide us. But she can’t leave the Lost Woods, and I won’t be able to hear her unless we get closer, so…’

‘So you can’t say for sure until we’re there,’ Twilight concluded unhappily.

‘Exactly,’ Time confirmed. ‘But my advice from before stands: keep close, stay focused, don’t get impatient. Above all, pay attention to the mist around you, the noise of the forest and the ground beneath your feet. We’ll handle everything else as it comes. Agreed?’

The question was clearly addressed to the whole group, but it was Twilight that Time looked to for final approval.

‘Nostalgia, I suppose, and the familiarity of this place. That’s all it is.’

Twilight hesitated, but gave a reluctant nod. ‘Let’s head in,’ he agreed at last.

Time was going to buy Twilight’s parents flowers. Time was going to buy Twilight flowers. Time was going to kneel down in front of his gorgeous, wonderful wife and beg forgiveness for his sins and maybe get thrown into the manure heap if there was any justice in the world – and if his dear, sweet goddess deigned administer it – because there was no way that Time deserved to have such a patient, responsible and wise successor there to help collect Time’s own misplaced marbles.

These Malon-forsaken woods were going to be the death of him. The sooner they all got out – the sooner all of Time’s successors and predecessors and little big brothers and accidentally adopted children were safe, healthy and alive – the better he would feel.

First things first.

He clumsily tested the finger movements a few times before lifting the ocarina to his lips and starting to play. The lively tune came to him easily enough, for all that it was only his second time playing it in over a decade. He closed his eyes and let the old magic brush over him, accompanied by a wave of homesickness.

He should be over it already, he knew. Malon curse this entire place and every bittersweet memory it held.

He had been ten years old when he first learned Saria’s Song. Ten again, though perhaps older in reality, when he’d returned from the future – still trembling from that terrifying final encounter with Ganon, mind still reeling from disturbing visions of his own death – and had played that song once again. Navi had told him to go straight to Princess Zelda, and he’d meant to, really, he’d just maybe wanted to hear his oldest friend’s voice first, even if his fairy friend had, for some reason, not been there to help him with it. Thus, he’d been ten years old, confused and frightened and panicking, when he’d called out to Saria with his ocarina and had, for the first time, heard nothing but silence in response.

He guessed he’d been around twelve-ish – physically, at least – by the time Saria saw him again, though who could say for sure just how many times he’d repeated those same seventy-two hours in Termina or how old he’d really been on the day he’d managed to wander all the way into another era. Who could say, for that matter, whether the “Link” he’d met there had been right to treat him like a child, with all the kindness and care that had so baffled Time’s younger self. Regardless of the actual number of years that had or had not passed, he’d been just slightly taller than Saria when he finally returned from his ventures, bleeding and broken and tired, and fell into arms that felt noticeably smaller than he remembered. And when he’d finally left, aged seventeen or thereabouts, he had never once returned.

It had been what… eighteen years since then? Centuries for Saria, considering their placement in Twilight’s own era. That was a long time, even by Kokiri standards.

Would she still recognise him?

Was she even still there?

Time had been playing for perhaps a few minutes when he felt the flow of magic around him abruptly shift. His fingers froze on the tone holes of the ocarina as wind whistled through the trees, ruffling his clothes and hair. A rush of foreign magic followed closely after – not necessarily hostile, but not clearly friendly either. It flowed curiously over his skin, completing a careful inspection before receding and moving onwards. He saw each of his companions shudder in turn – Hyrule going so far as to draw his sword – before the wind and accompanying presence finally dissipated. A few seconds passed before Time heard an echo of that same music murmur through the trees.

Time slowly lowered his ocarina. ‘Do you hear that?’ he asked.

Hyrule’s face was already turned in the right direction, the younger hero still shivering with discomfort. Wild and Twilight’s gazes followed a moment later, sensitive ears flicking subtly.

‘A violin?’ Wild murmured curiously.

Time startled. ‘A violin?’

‘Sounds like one,’ Twilight agreed. ‘Is it not supposed to be a violin?’

Time hesitated. ‘I was expecting an ocarina, but…’

The magic clearly wasn’t Saria’s, so the instrument itself shouldn’t have come as a surprise. And come to think of it, Time had once known a Kokiri that played a violin. A Kokiri that could feasibly have learned that song and who could feasibly have been called a friend –

‘Anybody who comes into the forest will be lost,’ they informed him in a cheery tone. ‘Everybody will become a Stalfos. Everybody, Stalfos. Are you going to become one too? Heh heh.’

‘I think I know who it is,’ Time concluded. ‘Let’s go see if I’m right.’

They walked for several minutes, pausing at Time’s raised hand whenever the music grew a little too distant or the mists pressed in a little too close. Those pauses grew more frequent as the magic of the Lost Woods swelled around them, thrumming dangerously in Time’s veins and threatening his focus. He wasn’t the only one affected, either: on several turns, he was forced to pull one or another of his companions back to the path – Hyrule most of all and Twilight a surprising second place, but even Wild’s steps faltered on occasion.

Eventually, the tumultuous magic quietened once more, music soaring and fog dissipating as they entered a sunny clearing to find a Kokiri playing their violin atop a tall tree stump.

Time hesitated for a brief moment before stepping forwards. ‘Fado,’ he called.

The song drew to a close, and Fado lowered their instrument – her instrument, Time corrected, taking note of Fado’s dress and her red hair ribbons – and dropped lightly to the forest floor. The violin disappeared in a flurry of leaves as Fado crossed her legs and leaned back against the stump, hands tucked behind her back.

Time supposed he really should have expected it, but it still startled him to see just how little Fado’s appearance had changed over the centuries. Those same deceptively childlike features, those same bushy blonde pigtails, even the same style of clothing. Something had changed, he sensed, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The Kokiri girl surveyed the four of them curiously, eyes lingering on Hyrule for a long moment before shifting rather disinterestedly back to Time. ‘Not many outsiders know that name,’ she said conversationally.

(Time’s thoughts strayed inconsequentially to the Fado of Ordon Village: clearly, some outsider had known that name.)

‘Or that song,’ Fado continued. ‘Only the lost ones play it now. Did they teach it to Mr Outsider?’ She grinned. ‘That’s nice. It’s nice when lost ones make friends. They don’t do it often. Mr Outsider must be working very hard to become a Mr Insider.’

Time hid a grimace – not particularly well, if the widening of Fado’s toothy smile was any indication.

Clearly, she didn’t recognise him. He wasn’t entirely surprised: the concept of ageing was foreign to the Kokiri, though Saria had done her best to explain it in the past. Fado at least had learned to recognise him back then, though Time supposed the last image she would have had of him would be his seventeen-year-old self. It wouldn’t have occurred to her, likely, that he might have kept growing from there.

He steadied himself and replied, ‘Actually, it was a Kokiri that taught me that song. A good friend of mine from long ago. I played that song because I was hoping to meet with her.’

Fado gave a displeased hum. ‘Not with Fado, then?’ she remarked. Her eyes slipped casually past Time and back towards his companions, sharpening with interest once again as they landed on Hyrule.

Time glanced back with growing concern. Perhaps it was merely that Hyrule was the youngest of their group – the only one yet to reach legal adulthood, in fact, for all that Wild wasn’t really all that much older – or perhaps that Fado sensed the unusually strong magic that Hyrule held. Time couldn’t think of any other reason for her to take such a keen interest.

He shuffled himself in between the two of them and replied, ‘I wasn’t expecting to meet you here, no. But perhaps you can help us out, Fado. Would you be able to guide us to Kokiri Forest?’

Her ears perked up as he began his request, then drooped back down as he finished it. Pouting slightly, she shook her head.

Mildly irritated, Time asked, ‘You won’t?’

‘Can’t,’ she corrected, then explained simply, ‘Kokiri Forest isn’t here anymore.’

Time blinked. Time opened his mouth to speak, and then Time closed his mouth. All of a sudden, there was an odd, tight sensation in his chest, as if something heavy rested there. With what breath he was able to wrangle, he asked, ‘What?’

‘Kokiri Forest isn’t here anymore,’ Fado repeated patiently.

‘Somewhere else in the woods, then?’ he pressed. ‘Can you take us there?’

‘Kokiri Forest,’ Fado reiterated, ‘isn’t here anymore. Even I can’t guide Mr Outsider and his friends to a place that isn’t here.’

Time continued to stare confusedly. Distantly, he registered Twilight drawing close, reaching a hesitant hand out towards his shoulder. He flinched at the touch and his protégé hastily retreated. Time gave him a quick, desperate look, then turned back to Fado.

‘The… the other Kokiri, then,’ he continued as steadily as he could. ‘If Kokiri Forest isn’t here anymore, then where –?’

‘The only Kokiri around here is Fado,’ she replied. ‘Just Fado. The other Kokiri aren’t here anymore. If Mr Outsider wants to speak to a Kokiri, he’ll have to speak to Fado.’

The other Kokiri aren’t here anymore.

Time should have expected it, he supposed. Whether from the moment Legend had mentioned dark magic in the Lost Woods, from the moment he’d witnessed the husk of the old Great Deku Tree and scattered remnants of the old Kokiri Forest with his own eyes, or even from the very moment they’d arrived in that magic-tainted, monster-infested future of Time’s own world. Perhaps, even, he had expected it, and had simply been feebly holding onto hope. He hadn’t uttered Saria’s name even once, after all, had he? Not to Fado, and not to his other friends either.

Death was rare among the Kokiri. It was supposed to be, at least. The life energy exuded by the Great Deku Tree could stave off age and illness alike, and even heal any injuries sustained in the surrounding woods. Death, if and when it occurred, seldom occurred anywhere near the village, thus it was rarely possible to know for sure if someone had vanished for good or just for the moment. Their language adjusted accordingly: it was terribly rude to talk about people when they may well overhear their name and come to listen.

The other Kokiri aren’t here anymore.

‘O-ok,’ Time heard himself say. ‘Then…’ He swallowed, clenching his fists and reminding himself of their mission. ‘Uh. Perhaps you… can still help us. We’re actually… we’re actually looking for someone else.’ It was fine. He was fine. ‘He has blonde hair, blue-violet eyes, he’s about this tall –’ He indicated on his chest. ‘– And he might be injured. And if you haven’t seen him, we have an idea of where to look. Can you –?’

‘Mr Outsider and friends are looking for the hero, right?’ the girl interrupted.

Time stiffened in surprise while the others let out startled exclamations. Fado took the opportunity to step right past Time on her way to Hyrule.

‘You’re a Mr Hero too, right?’ she asked directly, and Time startled once again at the unexpected proclamation. Fado promptly continued, ‘Fado knows, because only Mr Heroes can carry that sword, right?’ She pointed towards the Master Sword.

Time stared at her, wondering when and how Fado could have learned such a thing. Before he could ask, Fado continued, ‘The first one came through the woods yesterday, but he was gone before Fado could greet him.’ She scowled. ‘Fado really wanted to say hello. She even sent friends out to find him. But now that Mr Hero isn’t here anymore.’

Time and Hyrule both jolted, a terrified and devastated expression blooming on the latter’s face. ‘Fado,’ Time barked, ‘when you say he isn’t here anymore –?!’

A light, cruel giggle cut him off. ‘Fado didn’t mean it like that,’ she said teasingly. ‘Mr Hero went somewhere else, but Fado thinks he’s still nearby. Fado knows where. Fado can help the new Mr Hero get there too, if he’ll do a favour in return.’

With a wary gleam of hope in his eyes, Hyrule asked, ‘What do you want?’

In response, Fado repeated her previous gesture, smiling brightly. ‘Fado wants that,’ she informed him.

‘You want – you want Legend’s sword?!’ Hyrule asked, appalled. ‘But that – it isn’t – I mean, it’s not mind to give – I can’t just –’

Fado’s smile dissolved into a ferocious glare. ‘I don’t need to keep it.’ Her face quickly smoothed back over into its childlike mask, and she explained, ‘Fado just wants to borrow it for a bit. Fado will keep it safe in Fado’s special place, and if any Mr Hero comes by wanting his sword again once Fado is done, Fado won’t stand in his way.’

‘Once you’re done with what?’ Wild asked abruptly. ‘What are you planning?’

Fado bristled. ‘Fado needs to do Fado’s job,’ she snapped. ‘That’s why Fado is still here. Because I have a job. And if Mr Outsider and his friends don’t let Fado do her job…’

The bright clearing dimmed as Fado trailed off, small shadows of beneath their feet stretching longer as the noon light above shifted closer to dusk. A sudden flare near Fado’s cheek revealed her companion fairy, wings fluttering in protective agitation. As if that were some sort of signal, the girl smiled once again and light streamed back into the clearing. Time released a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding.

‘I can explain along the way,’ Fado suggested pleasantly. Her fairy fluttered down to her shoulder and sat there, pulsing warningly bright. ‘We’ll have to walk for a bit to get to Fado’s special place, then we’ll have to walk for a bit to get to where the other Mr Hero went too. Mr Outsider and friends are free to do whatever they want of course, but Fado doesn’t think new Mr Hero will have much luck finding old Mr Hero without Fado’s help.’

Hyrule hesitated, but nodded resolutely. ‘Lead the way, then.’

‘Hyrule, wait,’ Time cut in. Fado bristled in response and finally turned her gaze towards his. ‘Promise us, Fado,’ he pressed, ‘that if we do what you want then you’ll take us to where our friend is, that if we don’t make a deal then you’ll take us back to the outskirts of the Lost Woods, and that you won’t try to harm us either way.’

Fado and her fairy both eyed him sullenly for a moment, then they huffed and turned back to Hyrule. Rather snippily, Fado replied, ‘Fado promises that if the new Mr Hero does what Fado wants, then Fado will get him to the place where old Mr Hero went. Fado promises not to attack new Mr Hero or his current companions unless they try to harm Fado first or if they lie or break a promise to Fado or if Fado does it by accident. If Mr Outsider wants more promises than that, he should catch Fado in a good mood first.’

In other words, Time mused, Fado made no promise that she wouldn’t get them terribly lost if they backed out and refused to give her what she wanted. Not unexpected. Admittedly, she held the cards at the moment: even beyond the fact that she apparently knew Legend’s location, they were already deep enough in the woods that finding their way back unaided could be a challenge, except perhaps if Time used his magic – magic that Fado likely did not expect him to possess.

‘And you’ll explain further along the way to that “special place” of yours?’ he prompted curiously.

Petulantly, Fado replied, ‘If new Mr Hero follows Fado to her special place, Fado promises to give that Mr Hero more information about their destination along the way.’

Not an overly detailed commitment, but still far more promises than Kokiri tended to give on any one occasion. Whatever Fado wanted must be important to her indeed.

‘Are those promises even worth anything?’ Wild burst out suddenly, posture tense. ‘What’s stopping you from going back on your word?’

‘Kokiri don’t break promises,’ both Fado and Time answered simultaneously.

Fado glanced over to him briefly, a small amount of hostility easing before she gave a “hmph” and turned away again. ‘Kokiri don’t break promises, because they don’t lie,’ she explained loftily. ‘If you break a promise, it means you were lying when you made it. Humans lie all the time, but Kokiri don’t lie. Not ever. Isn’t that right, Mr Outsider?’

Time winced once again at the less than flattering nickname. ‘Right,’ he agreed warily. ‘Kokiri don’t lie, but they don’t always tell you everything either, do they?’

Fado gave no response beyond the slight narrowing of her eyes, and Time sighed inwardly, wishing they could have had this conversation with literally any other Kokiri.

Even Mido would have been better. He may have been hostile on occasion during Time’s youth, but he was never as cagey and downright malicious as Fado seemed to enjoy being. They’d even parted on relatively good terms. Of course, he’d thought he and Fado had parted on relatively good terms too, so perhaps that wasn’t worth as much as he’d once thought.

The other Kokiri aren’t here anymore.

That strange, heavy feeling rolled through his chest once again. Time did his best to ignore it.

‘I think that’s all we’re going to get for now,’ Time concluded regretfully. ‘Let’s hear that explanation while we walk.’

Chapter Text

Hyrule was at least seventy percent sure that Fado was intentionally messing with them. Or maybe sixty percent. Fifty? Seeing as it was his first encounter with a several-hundred-year-old fey-adjacent immortal forest child, he supposed he could offer some generosity pertaining to cultural differences, but yeah: he was relatively sure that it was on purpose.

All traces of anger seemingly forgotten, said several-hundred-year-old fey-adjacent immortal forest child hummed and skipped cheerily through the woods, whistling for attention any time Hyrule’s attention started to stray from the path (notably leaving Hyrule’s other companions to fend for themselves). Just to be safe, Hyrule allowed several long minutes to pass in that fashion until he eventually prompted, ‘You were going to tell us where we’re headed, right?’

Fado gave a mildly offended huff. ‘Mr Hero isn’t very patient, is he?’ she accused. Obligingly enough, she turned and began to walk backwards, leaving her fairy to scout the way ahead. ‘So-o-o,’ she drawled. ‘Before Fado starts: does Mr Hero know anything about Fado, or about her role as the Wind Sage?’

‘Uh… well, no…’ Hyrule replied reluctantly. He glanced back towards Time – who merely shrugged in response – and added, ‘There are supposed to be seven sages, right?’ Belatedly recalling the nature of the timeline split between his era and Twilight’s, he amended, ‘Or maybe not.’ Or maybe yes? Had the seven sages existed before the time of the Fallen Hero? Perhaps he should’ve taken at least some interest in that distant part of Hyrule’s history.

‘Maybe not, but maybe also yes,’ Fado responded playfully. ‘Fado knows of seven sages that were supposed to exist, but Fado also knows of two more. Seven to protect the Sacred Realm and the golden treasure hidden inside, and also at least two for the sacred places in this realm. Maybe even others. Fado doesn’t know. But if Mr Hero doesn’t know either, then maybe Fado should start from the very beginning.’

‘Uhh… yeah, probably a good idea,’ he admitted sheepishly.

Fado proceeded to ostentatiously clear her throat. ‘In the beginning, Fado was told, three golden goddesses created the world.’

Well. That was definitely a beginning.

Fado laughed gleefully at whatever face Hyrule had pulled. ‘Patience, Mr Hero,’ she chided. ‘This is important. Really.’

He sighed. ‘Fine.’

Fado nodded smugly. ‘The Goddess of Power sculpted the land itself,’ she went on, ‘along with all of the fire and movement below and the sun and moon and stars above. The Goddess of Courage then blew life onto that land, creating plants, animals and thinking creatures too, and the water they needed to survive. Along with life, she created death – and the cycle of rebirth: of rotting away and turning into new growth.

‘Last of the three, the Goddess of Wisdom brought in rules as to how the world should operate: the duration of things, the weight of things and the energy required to push them from their path. The ability for living beings to learn and change and stay changed. The meaning of good and evil in a world that otherwise had no concept of either. And to carry on her will, she created the White Goddess: a lesser deity charged with maintaining balance in the new world.

‘Once their work was complete, the three goddesses shed their remaining ties to their creation and returned to the heavens. The fragments that remained of them down below turned to holy artefacts and sacred places – each a wellspring of divine power.’

Fado paused for breath, nodding absently to her fairy as they guided her – and by extension, Hyrule and his companions – around a large, fallen log.

‘Those pieces they left behind were powerful,’ she went on. ‘More powerful even than the White Goddess. She was only ever created with a small fragment of a single goddess’ power, so the things that were possible for the old gods weren’t possible for her, nor was it possible for one divine being to wield another’s power. In the end, she chose not to be a goddess anymore, just so she could take that greater power for herself. Being greedy has a price, right? Heheh. So now there’s only pieces of that goddess left around here too – just like with the others. Except that she didn’t even have much power to start with and she lost most of the rest along the way, so her pieces are teeny, tiny cute compared to the others. How sad.

‘But that’s where the sages come in. See, before she went away for good, the Goddess made plans, and she convinced a bunch of people to make promises. And then they got their successors to make promises too, and eventually even Fado ended up making a promise. And ever since then –’

A distressed chime from above interrupted the Kokiri girl’s speech. With a slight jolt of surprise, Fado turned and cupped her hands, allowing her companion fairy to settle into the hollow they made.

Hyrule tensed. ‘What happened? Is there danger?’ When he leaned in to get a better view, Fado turned away, hiding her companion from his prying eyes. Her trust only went so far, it seemed.

‘No danger to Mr Hero and friends,’ Fado announced quietly. ‘Mire gets tired more easily these days. Fado forgets, sometimes.’

A few seconds later, she lowered her hands and turned back towards Hyrule. “Mire”, if that was the fairy’s name, was nowhere to be seen. Without even acknowledging the strange event, Fado smiled and continued, ‘Mr Hero’s sword was forged with the flames of the Golden Three and then blessed by the White Goddess in her mortal form, after she’d purified her body in each of the sacred springs. Fado's job as Wind Sage – along with the Earth Sage and their job – is to make sure that the divine power in that sword stays strong, even with no gods around to help. That’s the promise Fado made.’ She nodded towards the hilt of Legend’s sword. ‘The scent of the gods is weak now, but Fado can fix that.’

Hyrule blinked. Questionable olfactory functions aside: ‘You want to strengthen the divine power of the Master Sword? That’s what you wanted? That’s what you’re taking us to do?’

‘Yep, mm-hmm,’ confirmed Fado.

‘And that’s it?’

Fado shrugged. ‘That, and Fado needs to keep her promise to Mr Hero. After that, Mr Hero and his companions can do whatever they like, and Fado and Mire will do whatever they like too. Of course,’ she tacked on warningly, ‘Fado’s going to get angry if it turns out that Mr Hero or any of his companions lied to Fado, or if they attack Fado, or if they get in the way of her doing her job.’

Hyrule grimaced. ‘Well, just so we’re clear,’ he warned, ‘this sword isn’t from around here. Yes, it is the Master Sword, but it’s not the one from this era. Long story. I don’t want you to start claiming I lied or got in your way just because –’

‘Mr Hero seems to be overcomplicating things a little,’ Fado interrupted. She smiled patiently. ‘I made it nice and simple before, right? If Fado can borrow the sword to do what Fado wants, and if Mr Hero and those with him all play nice in the meantime, then Fado will get this Mr Hero to where the other Mr Hero went. That’s not such a bad deal, is it?’ She paused, cocking her head as a new thought struck. ‘Though if Mr Hero wants a nice little catch to worry about –’

‘I super don’t,’ Hyrule advised quickly.

‘Well, Fado’s special place may be a little dangerous these days,’ she conceded. ‘Divine magic smells nice to more than just Fado; lots of fun little things like to go looking for it. Does Mr Hero know what Fado means?’

‘So, we should expect a lot of monsters?’ Hyrule asked reluctantly.

‘Mm-hmm,’ Fado confirmed unconcernedly. ‘Not to worry, though: Mr Hero must have fought lots of monsters already, right? Isn’t that just what Mr Heroes do? So Fado thinks it’ll be fine. An adventure, even! Yep, Fado’s sure of it: we’re going to have a great time!’

Time was not having a great time. Time was not having a good time at all. Time was having such a not-good time that he couldn’t even joke about the no-good terrible time Time was having.

He lunged and stabbed the latest of several oversized skulltula in its oversized belly, grimacing at the spurt of purple fluid that burst across his boots and trousers. He wiped his claymore down with an already sodden blade cloth, set a mental reminder to clean the blade properly once all this was over, and then turned his gaze back to the narrow ledge far above.

‘Wild,’ he called wearily, ‘how and why did you get up there?’

There was something about getting old, Time had noticed, that truly sucked all joy from the sight of yet another huge, overgrown ancient temple that screamed “adventure”, “treasure” and “danger” all at once. Sad, really, considering the way all three of his feral gremlin hero companions had lit up at the sight of it and immediately, unquestioningly, split the party upon entry. Time could relate, in a way. Time would have done the same, once. Time definitely wouldn’t have been thinking about how much more he would have preferred to be home, sitting in a rocking chair on the veranda next to his wife with a mug of warm milk in his hands and significantly less reeking spider ichor splashed across his legs.

Ageing was hard, sometimes.

In response to Time’s question, the Hero of the Wild idly swallowed a mouthful of some miscellaneous glowing mushroom that Time dearly hoped was not poisonous (even if he damned well deserved it), and explained, ‘I climbed. Wanted a better view of the area.’

Time eyed the damp, mossy, crumbling brick work. It certainly wasn’t the least structurally sound surface that Time’s younger self had ever scaled, but in his offence: Time’s younger self was a moron.

Reluctantly, he added, ‘And do you know where Hyrule went?’

Wild shrugged. ‘Under the bridge, I think?’

‘Yep! Over here – sorry!’ Hyrule panted as he hauled himself up over the side of the crumbling stone platform. His new Kokiri friend (and Time wasn’t bitter at all, mind you) followed after with a childish giggle.

At least someone was having fun.

‘And Twilight?’ Time requested resignedly.

Right on cue, the stone door to the right opened noisily and revealed the last of the three wayward heroes. ‘Hey, everyone,’ Twilight called. ‘I think I found a way forwards. It’s locked though; has anyone found a key ye–? Whoa; where’d all those giant spiders come from?!’

Time swiftly amended his earlier thought: at least everyone other than Time was having fun.

Wild chose that thematically appropriate moment to leap down from a great height, opening his paraglider at exactly the last possible opportunity. ‘Would the key really just be lying around somewhere?’ he asked nonchalantly. ‘I mean, maybe if it was some kind of shrine specifically built to test the hero or something, but I get the sense that’s not what we’re dealing with here. Who’s to say that the person that built it didn’t just take the key with them when they left? Or chucked it in the ocean, maybe? That’s what I would’ve done.’

Time shook his head confidently. ‘No, it should still be nearby. That’s basic dungeon logic, isn’t it?’

Wild looked at him as if he’d grown an extra head. ‘“Dungeon logic”?’ he repeated incredulously. ‘The hell is that?’

Time shrugged. ‘Dungeon logic. If there’s a locked door, there’s a key nearby. The bigger and more prominent the locked door, the more fuss you’re going to have finding the key.’

‘“Logic”. You keep saying “logic”,’ said Wild, ‘and yet I really don’t think that’s what that word is supposed to mean.’

Rude.

‘No, he’s not wrong,’ Twilight supported, reliable protégé as he was. ‘I guess I never really thought too hard about it, but that’s kinda just how it works, isn’t it? Most of the time, anyway. I guess it’s sort of like how you technically could put your house key anywhere, but logically speaking: it’s always gonna be under the welcome mat. That’s just what makes sense.’

Hyrule nodded thoughtfully along with the first few statements only for his eyes to widen alarmingly at Twilight’s very reasonable conclusion. Slowly and clearly, he asked, ‘You have a house, it has a lock and you voluntarily chose to place a spare key under the welcome mat?’

‘Yes?’ Twilight said confusedly.

‘The welcome mat outside your front door? That welcome mat?’

‘How many welcome mats do you think I have?’

‘How many lives do you think you have?!’ Hyrule asked desperately.

‘At least nine, if our group is any indication,’ Twilight deadpanned. Alive-panned. Wow: Time probably shouldn’t pun about that. ‘But seriously,’ Twilight continued, ‘it’s not an issue around here. Ordon Village is safe, and the villagers are pretty polite too. No one’s gonna barge in without asking. Honestly, I forget to even lock the place most of the time.’

Hyrule’s palm collided against his face with an audible smack.

‘Wow,’ said Wild. ‘Alright then.’ He turned to their guide and asked, ‘Hey, so these are your old stomping grounds right, Fado? Can we cut to the part where you tell us if and where a key exists?’

Time frowned. He opened his mouth to object, then closed it. On the one hand: that was pretty poor sportsmanship and honestly rather disrespectful towards the general principles of dungeon logic, but on the other –

‘Fado doesn’t know,’ the Kokiri girl answered promptly. ‘Fado normally just fwooshes directly to Fado’s special place.’

‘“Fwooshes”?’ Hyrule repeated tersely.

Fado clapped her hands and vanished in sudden rush of wind, reappearing several paces away with a loud, ‘Fwoosh!’

Well. That just happened.

‘Could you just fwoosh the rest of us there too?’ Hyrule suggested with barely restrained impatience.

‘Nope!’ Fado replied cheerfully. ‘Self-fwoosh only. Hang in there, Mr Hero.’

‘Getting back on track,’ Time proposed delicately, ‘Has anyone checked the left side yet? Over there, I mean?’

‘Let’s just go right,’ Hyrule said dismissively. ‘Twilight found a door, didn’t he?’

‘Yes, but it’s locked and we need a key,’ Time repeated impatiently.

‘That’s fine,’ said Hyrule, ‘we’ll just use my magic key that can open any lock.’

Several silent seconds passed as each of the others turned to stare at him.

‘Is that a thing?’ Wild eventually asked.

Hyrule reached into the neckline of his tunic and produced a gaudy golden key. ‘Got it right here,’ he said. ‘But if there’s a welcome mat along the way, I’ll be sure to check under that as well. And maybe even knock on the door. Wouldn’t wanna barge in without asking; that’d just be rude.’

Point made, he ambled off towards the door, effortlessly lifting it and stepping past the threshold.

Wild gave an appreciative hum. ‘That was pretty damn obnoxious. Even by my standards,’ he commented, and followed after without complaint.

Twilight and Time exchanged bemused glances. ‘Kids these days,’ the latter announced dolefully. ‘No respect for dungeon logic.’

In between Hyrule’s magic key, Wild’s ability to effortlessly scale almost any flat surface, Twilight’s ball and chain and general lack of regard for the structural integrity of their surrounds, and Time’s… apparently getting stuck fighting all the monsters (he had the odd suspicion of Fado’s involvement in that outcome if her stifled giggles were any indication), it didn’t take long at all for the adventuring party to reach a tall stone block marked with the symbol of the royal family.

‘This is definitely the way forward?’ Hyrule asked dubiously.

‘Mm-hmm!’ Fado replied cheerily. ‘There’s a special trick to it. Can Mr Hero figure it out?’

Hyrule glanced over at Twilight. ‘Give it a go?’

‘Sure,’ he replied, and heaved his usual multi-purpose problem-solving tool directly at the slab.

For once, brute force didn’t pay off: the iron ball bounced futilely off the stone, narrowly missing concussing its wielder on the way back. Wild gave yet another scandalised and deeply hypocritical murmur about the historical value of ancient ruins while Fado merely doubled over with laughter.

Patiently stilling Hyrule’s hand as it predictably reached for a bomb, Time surveyed the puzzle the old-fashioned way. ‘It’s a little faded, but that looks like musical notation to me,’ he informed the others, indicating to the markings at the bottom of the stone block. He crouched and brushed away the dust and moss until the full tune revealed itself.

‘Music notation?’ Twilight queried. ‘Does that mean we’re supposed to sing or something?’

‘Hmm.’ Time had heard Twilight try to sing before. It was… memorable. Diplomatically, he replied, ‘How about if we try my ocarina first?’

‘Sure. Go for it.’

A small hand planted itself firmly on top of his as Time made to lift the ocarina to his lips. ‘It won’t work for you,’ Fado informed him, face suddenly grim. ‘It works for Fado and it’ll work for Mr Hero here, but it won’t work for Mr Imposter.’

Something bitter settled in Time’s gut. ‘There I thought I was “Mr Outsider”,’ he remarked dryly. ‘If I’m an “imposter” now: who or what do you think I’m pretending to be?’

Fado gave no response beyond a ferocious glare, so Time continued, ‘You do know me, don’t you? Back in that clearing when you were so hostile, I thought it was because you didn’t recognise me. But it’s actually the opposite, isn’t it? It’s because you do recognise me.

‘Did you really hate me that much back then? Did you hate me the whole time we knew each other, or was it just when I started to get older? When you realised that I wasn’t a real Kokiri?’

‘Fado hates liars,’ Fado said stiffly. ‘If Mr Imposter wants to be Fado’s friend, he should stop pretending to be someone he isn’t. No matter how he looks or how he smells, he isn’t that person. He can’t be.’

‘And why not?!’ demanded Time.

Eyes narrowing further, Fado opened her mouth to speak, only for Twilight to interject.

‘Time,’ he said firmly, ‘you’re being unfair. We’re not in your era, and we haven’t explained anything.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘This is… hundreds of years have passed, you know? Hylians don’t typically…’ He trailed off, avoiding Time’s gaze.

Oh.

‘I, uh… guess I forgot about that part,’ Time admitted awkwardly. And really: Twilight was right, wasn’t he? What was Time doing getting so worked up, just because an old acquaintance – a very old acquaintance, really, both for him and for her – happened to not immediately recognise him?

When Time made no attempt to explain things, Twilight cleared his throat. ‘Fado,’ he began. ‘You might have figured at least some of this out by now, but Time here – Link, rather – Link isn’t from this era. That means… whatever happened to him in the past hasn’t happened yet. This is definitely the Link that you knew.’

‘No it isn’t,’ she replied promptly.

‘I… assure you that he is,’ Twilight said. ‘If you’ll let us explain –’

‘There is nothing to explain,’ Fado said harshly. ‘Fado isn’t fond of liars.’

‘It’s a good thing I’m not lying, then,’ Twilight replied with a growing edge to his tone.

‘Pup… it’s fine,’ Time murmured.

‘It isn’t “fine” at all,’ he snapped back. ‘Don’t just give up! She’s… she’s family, isn’t she?’

Family?

Was Fado his family?

Would Time have disappeared from Fado’s life for so long if she was “family”? He hadn’t even visited Saria, let alone Fado. If either of them were “family” to him, wouldn’t he have at least visited once or twice within over a decade of his own free will, not hundreds of years later and only because the situation demanded it? And if either of them really were family, wouldn’t Time have known that immediately? It shouldn’t have been such a complicated question, should it?

Why did that question agitate him so much?

‘Everybody will become a Stalfos,’ her voice echoed mockingly in his head. ‘Everybody, Stalfos. Are you going to become one too?’

‘Were we family?’ Time asked Fado directly.

She turned away. With a click of her fingers, her violin and bow reappeared. ‘Fado will open the way now,’ she announced tersely. She shifted closer to the stone block and raised her instrument.

Time was faster.

The tightness in his throat made it difficult to draw breath, but he persevered, sight-reading the melody written on the stone. Only as he played did he realise just how familiar it sounded: the notes wobbled slightly as his breath hitched, so he paused, took another breath and returned to the start of the song. From there, the melody flowed freely from his fingers even as his gaze dropped from the instructions carved into the stone.

How strange, Time had often thought, that his hands and lungs always seemed to remember things better than his mind.

He let his eye fall shut as the memory took over.

Returning to Kokiri Village after three intertemporal quests had been a harsh adjustment. Saria had done her best to help piece him back together, and perhaps Time had even put in a little effort himself. No, rather: it had been more than a little, hadn’t it? He had tried. But after a few weeks or so of constant nightmares and low appetite, perhaps he’d simply given up. He’d packed his bag and quietly slipped away once again, back into the Lost Woods – not with any plan, of course, simply spurred on by the soul-deep knowledge that he did not belong.

He hadn’t gone far at all before music caught his attention: a violin playing a lively tone that seemed all too out of place in the dark, foreboding fog. ‘You look tired,’ Fado had observed mildly when he’d stumbled into her sunlit clearing. ‘It’s not a good idea to wander these woods when you’re tired.

‘If you’re not in any hurry, shall I play a while for you? Or perhaps… if you’d like, you could even play along? This is Fado’s special song: the Wind God’s –’

Sudden brightness pierced through Time’s closed eyelid and dragged him back to the present moment. He opened his eye just in time to see the stone slab dissipate in a burst of light, revealing a long, dark hallway beyond. To one side, Fado watched mutely, violin and bow dangling from limp hands.

‘Is that enough proof?’ he heard himself ask.

Several long seconds passed as Fado processed the question. Her eyes shifted slowly from the path ahead, up to Time’s face, then down to the ocarina in his hand.

‘I suppose it is,’ she whispered.

The air in the narrow hallway tasted old and dusty. All sound from behind them quickly faded into silence. When Fado finally spoke again, Time couldn’t be quite sure if her words were directed at him or if she’d simply chosen to give sound to her inner thoughts.

‘Mire is tired now,’ she murmured. ‘Fado’s fairy, that is. Mire gets more and more tired every day, and so does Fado. The whole forest started to get tired a while back.

‘Fado held on, because she thought she had to, but Mire and Fado are both tired. And maybe… maybe Fado hadn’t needed to hold on like this after all. Maybe Fado was fooled, just like that person said. Maybe Fado knew all along, but maybe she didn’t want to admit it… because if Fado admitted that…’

She trailed off into silence for several more steps before continuing in a steadier conversational tone, ‘It started back when the Great Deku Tree died. Shortly after, he disappeared as well. Fado saw him once again, but didn’t realise it at the time. Fado hadn’t realised that so many years had passed, and that that person wouldn’t have looked the way Fado expected. But Fado paid more attention to time from that point onwards, and it really wasn’t long at all after that before the Sage of Forest brought more news. She… she said…

‘She said that Link was dead.’

Time jolted at the flat statement and at the way Fado’s violet eyes flickered back to him as she spoke. ‘Kokiri don’t say things like that unless they know for sure,’ she explained unnecessarily. ‘Not unless they see it with her own eyes, that is. So Link was definitely dead back then. She even…’ Fado glanced at the ocarina still clasped in Time’s hand. ‘She had that ocarina. Link’s ocarina. She gave it to Fado’s old friend, who was also Link’s old friend. Well, maybe they weren’t such good friends after all, but even so: that person was… sad. When Link went away and didn’t come back, that person was really sad. He missed Link a lot, even though he used to say harsh things. He wanted to apologise, but he never got the chance.’

‘When…?’ The word slipped free before Time could think better of it. He shouldn’t be hearing this, he knew. He wasn’t supposed to hear how his story ended, or about the people he supposedly left behind. The people who supposedly saw him die.

But how had that happened? When had that happened? Something just didn’t seem right.

He snuck a glance to Twilight, walking behind him, suddenly morbidly curious about exactly what his descendant knew of the situation. Why Twilight had recognised him so readily when they’d first met.

Twilight’s posture was tense, his jaw set. He didn’t appear to notice Time’s attention. Time looked away.

Fado continued as if there had been no interruption. ‘A new Deku Tree had sprouted recently, so the forest wasn’t as tired as it had been before,’ she went on. ‘Fado had actually thought that things were starting to get better, but then, as if out of nowhere, the Forest Sage was suddenly telling all the Kokiri that Link was dead and that they had to leave. That the forest wasn’t safe anymore. That her sacred place wasn’t so sacred anymore either, and that dark things and greedy people would be coming. Too many of both for even the Lost Woods to handle.’

She gave a humourless laugh. ‘Obviously Fado couldn’t leave. Fado made a promise, after all, and even if she hadn’t… all Kokiri know that leaving the forest means death. Fado is sure the Forest Sage knew that too, but she still led them away and they still followed. How absurd, don’t you think? Don’t you think that’s a strange thing to do?

‘But they all went together, anyway. All except Fado. Only me. I stayed behind.

‘I felt the darkness surging, watched the beasts gathering, smelled the forest burning… I stayed and waited as they got closer and closer, and even back then, I thought… I thought that something went weird, even if I couldn’t work out what it was. I only closed my eyes for a moment, but in an instant, everything…’

The sound of flowing water grew louder as they approached the end of the hallway. Fado’s steps faltered only briefly before she made a quiet breathy sound and hurried forwards.

The hallway they had been walking down opened up into a cavernous stone chamber. The bridge stemming from the entrance, and a matching one leading to a closed door on the opposite side, arched gently over a narrow, circular water channel fed by sconces in the wall. To the centre of the chamber, steps led up to a dais marked with the emblem of the Hyrulean royal family. The mellow mid-afternoon sun spilled down from a skylight far above, illuminating soaring columns and intricately carved friezes. The gentle waving of distant overgrowth and shifting clouds splintered the light like a flickering flame.

‘This way, please, Mr Hero,’ Fado instructed Hyrule. ‘Place the Master Sword in the pedestal.’

Slowly, Hyrule drew Legend’s sword, staring down at the blade for a long moment before he complied with the direction, hand lingering briefly at the hilt before resolutely pulling away.

‘And… and you,’ Fado said, indicating towards Time without quite meeting his eyes. ‘That song from before… you remember it, right? Will you play it with me?’

‘Of course,’ said Time.

Fado nodded. She lifted her violin and counted them in, ‘One, two, three, four, five, six. One, two, three, four, five –’

On the fifth count, Fado raised her bow and Time took a breath. The anacrusis flowed smoothly into the first bar of Fado’s song, beginning in unison and then harmonising on the second time through. They played through the melody twice more and finished with a flourish of Fado’s bow.

The carved insignia that surrounded the sword pedestal suddenly gleamed a bright golden hue. Green light streamed up from the stone and wrapped around the blade of the Master Sword, slowly shifting into the weapon’s signature shining blue. For a moment, Time thought he felt – rather than heard – a strange humming in the air. It was gone before he could be entirely sure of what he had sensed.

As the blade’s glow slowly dimmed, Hyrule reached tentatively for the hilt, jerking away on initial contact but then extending his hand with renewed confidence. He carefully tugged the blade free, lifted it upwards and took a moment to marvel at the sight before sliding the weapon home in its sheath.

Time heard a wooden clatter and turned to see Fado’s violin skitter across the stone floor. The Kokiri girl herself sat on splayed legs, leaning heavily on her arms as she panted. A spot at the middle of her chest glowed briefly as her fairy emerged and tumbled into her lap.

‘Fado? Fado!’ Time called out in alarm and dropped down beside her, searching frantically for any sign of injury or illness, only for the girl to abruptly burst into laughter.

‘Ah… so, that person told the truth after all,’ she giggled breathlessly. ‘Fado was… she was so ready to get angry if he had lied. Fado said it before, right? If any of Mr Hero’s companions lied – that person included – she’d get angry. But Fado can’t even do that now, can she?’

“That person”? Who exactly –? ‘Fado, I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Time said tightly. Someone shifted in his periphery but he couldn’t bring himself to turn and look. ‘Are you alright?’ he pressed instead. ‘And your fairy –’ He looked dismally at the tiny winged figure lying still in Fado’s lap and demanded, ‘What on earth happened?! What’s going on?’

‘Just tired,’ Fado chuckled. ‘Fado and Mire both. Always tired now, without the Deku Tree around. Ah, but Other Link really is kind, isn’t he? No wonder Other Fado taught him that song. Only they could’ve done it, right? This Fado never did.’

Time blinked. ‘What?’ A dark suspicion stirred as he thought back through her words from earlier. ‘Fado,’ he said slowly, ‘the Link you knew: how old was he when –?’

‘When he died? Younger than you, obviously, Mr Tall, Manly, Grown Up Other Link,’ Fado scoffed. ‘But what does it matter now? You’re not him.’ She cupped her fairy in her hands and struggled to her feet, turning towards Hyrule. ‘More importantly: Fado made a promise, right? Kokiri always keep their promises. Always, until they absolutely can’t anymore. And Mr Hero’s in luck: we… we won’t have to go far, after all. Fado can… Fado can sense it right here. Fado just needs to stop holding it back. What does… what does it matter, anyway? This place isn’t even…’

‘Fado!’ Time dashed into place as Fado’s knees buckled once more, catching the Kokiri girl with one arm and her unconscious fairy with the other.

‘Ah,’ she sighed. ‘Other Link. Really too kind, isn’t he? Even though… even though Fado was such a bad girl. Say. That song… Fado won’t be able to teach it anymore. But Other Link can, right? It probably… it probably doesn’t matter now. But when you see that person… the one that owns that sword… will you teach it?’

‘Teach it yourself,’ he said fiercely.

Fado rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t you think… don’t you think Fado has made enough promises? She really… did her best. That… has to be worth something, right? Isn’t it… your turn to make a promise instead?’

Time gritted his teeth. ‘As if my promises even count for anything,’ he said bitterly. ‘I’m not a Kokiri. Not like you.’

She snorted. ‘Make me a promise, then, Other Link,’ she rasped. ‘Let’s… let’s both see if it counts for anything.’

Time stared down at his old friend, weak and limp and struggling to even breathe in his lap. ‘I…’

He wasn’t sure what made him say it: whether that initial urge that it didn’t even matter, or that niggling sense that perhaps it really, truly did. ‘I promise,’ he said, ‘that if you wait just a little while longer, I’ll find a way to get you home.’

Her eyes widened, smirk dropping from her mouth and all cynicism briefly fading from her expression as she stared at him in disbelieving silence. She stared, and stared, and stared.

And then she laughed.

She laughed as black smoke began to crawl through the walls, shrouding the carved friezes. She laughed as the gentle babble of water suddenly surged in a roar of pain or fury, and laughed even harder as each of Time’s companions yelled with surprise, struggling to break free of the shadowy hands that reached up to grasp at their legs and ankles. And as Time shoved free and leapt to his feet, yelling the names of his companions as they disappeared into the darkness, as hands reached up to drag him under as well, he heard her voice call out to him:

‘Fado will be waiting.’

Chapter Text

The roaring haze of dark magic dispersed without warning, leaving Time sprawled across the rough stone floor of a cavernous space much like the one they’d left behind, albeit long-ruined, rain-smoothed and overgrown. Remnants of that same murky energy flurried through the air around him, shimmering in the dull orange light that spilled down through the skylight and the cracked ceiling that surrounded it. For several long moments, the disoriented hero could do little more than slowly blink his scattered thoughts back into some semblance of order.

‘Time?’ Hyrule called from somewhere nearby. He sounded stressed, and that, if nothing else, was enough to get the older hero moving.

Time forced himself up on his elbows and wheezed back, ‘Here. I’m alright.’

Hyrule was somehow already up on his feet. Wild sat nearby, crouched in a shuddering ball with his fingers digging into his temples. Both of the two appeared unharmed, if spooked, so after a brief stretch of worried staring at Wild’s huddled form, Time went on to scan his surroundings for the last of their group. He let out an involuntary cry of alarm and jumped to his feet as he spotted the lump of dark grey fur half concealed by a pile of rubble.

The wolf – and clearly Twilight had accidentally transformed along the way – stirred as soon as Time’s hands made contact, giving an inquisitive growl followed by a startled bark as his eyes shifted down to his own paws and then up to the murky orange sky.

Time breathed out a sigh, pressing his head down against his protégé’s. ‘Scared me for a moment there, pup,’ he murmured. ‘You’re not hurt, are you?’

The only response was another sharp bark and an insistent nosing at his chest. Time ran soothing fingers through Twilight’s fur, frowning as he searched futilely for the cause of his distress. ‘Sorry pup, but I think we’ll need you in human form for this one,’ Time whispered. ‘I’ll cover for you while you transform.’ With that said, he turned and began to walk back to the others. To his surprise, Twilight padded right after, pressing into his side. Utterly baffled, Time petted him idly and filed the odd behaviour away for later.

‘Everyone alright?’ he called. ‘Hyrule? Wild – Wild, are you ok?!’

Wild certainly didn’t look ok. He looked pale and terrified, slouched in on himself with white-knuckled fingers carving into his skull. Time got about as far as raising a hand to Wild’s forehead – immediately taking worried note of cold and clammy skin – before the teen collected himself enough to brush Time away. ‘I’m fine,’ he replied, unsteady tone no more convincing than his agitated posture. ‘What about you? She didn’t hurt you, did she?’

‘Hurt me?’ Time asked, taken aback. ‘No, I – of course not. Were you hurt? Where?!’

Wild slapped his hovering hands away once again. ‘I said I’m fine,’ the very-not-fine-looking hero snapped. ‘Just… what the hell was that?!’

Time pursed his lips unhappily. He reached into his bag, produced a spare cloak of just the right size and wrapped it around Wild’s shoulders before he answered, ‘Our guide did promise to send us to Legend’s location. Admittedly, I could’ve asked more questions about the how and where of that. At this point, my guess is as good as yours.’

Hyrule’s guarded stance stiffened further. ‘Are you absolutely sure she told the truth?’ he asked warily. ‘This whole place feels like a trap, and I’m not seeing Legend anywhere. Could your friend have tricked us somehow?’

Time’s mind strayed once again to that last image of Fado, laughing raucously even as tears spilled from her eyes.

‘Kokiri don’t lie,’ he said distantly. ‘Whatever this place is, Legend would have to be somewhere nearby. Well… there’s room for interpretation as far as “the place where he went” goes, but she couldn’t have flat out lied. True Kokiri don’t do that.’

There was an odd, painful twinge to that statement which Time decided not to think too hard about. Instead, he scanned over their surroundings once again. ‘I’m starting to think we’re not in Twilight’s era anymore,’ he ventured. ‘This looks like an older version of the temple we were just in. I think we’ve gone forwards in time – by several hundred years, if not more.’

Twilight gave an odd little whine, ears flicking as he copied Time’s sweep of their surrounds. Time watched with concern, but before he could begin to inquire further, Wild asked, ‘What about the others? Wind, Four, Warriors and Sky, I mean? If Fado’s the one who sent us here: does that mean we’re all separated now?’

Time winced. ‘We’ve… we’ve been separated before,’ he said gamely. Technically true, though they hadn’t been separated in quite this way before. And wasn’t this exactly what Time had been afraid of when it came to their little jaunt into the Lost Woods? ‘And,’ he quickly added, ‘if there was a way to get here, there should also be a way to get back. We just have to find it.’

‘After we find Legend,’ Hyrule said tersely.

‘Of course,’ Time obliged. ‘I suggest we scout out our surroundings and see if we can find any useful clues. Erm… and while we do that… Wolfie, would you be able to find Twilight for us? He should be somewhere around –’

Time cut off as “Wolfie” shook his head and gave another low whine, tail and ears dropping downwards.

‘You… won’t?’ Time asked confusedly.

Another whine.

‘You can’t?’ Time tried instead. A small, sad nod confirmed his guess.

What did that mean?

For all of Twilight’s own wariness about the magic he wielded, Time had never been given any reason to doubt his control. Of course, dark magic was still dark magic: Time knew full well just how easily it could be corrupted. As far as lifting the effect… there were a few options Time could try, but the problem was finding space to try them. Twilight’s unwillingness to reveal his “secret” did complicate things.

Speaking of which.

With all the confidence of a terrible liar cursed with low self-awareness, Wild helpfully narrated, ‘I guess Twilight got left behind when we were all sent over here. Or, I mean, maybe he’s still somewhere nearby, and we’ll run into him later. I wouldn’t worry too much, either way: he’s tough, and he’s familiar with this area. I’m sure he’ll be fine. Right?’

‘Right,’ Time agreed distractedly, still contemplating curses and curse-lifting music and items.

‘Sure,’ said Hyrule. ‘And in fact, maybe it’s actually a good thing that Wolfie’s here instead. I was thinking –’

‘I mean, you can be a little worried?’ a bemused Wild interrupted. ‘He’s your friend, after all. On the off chance he was to, uh, somehow overhear this conversation, it’d be bad if he thought we didn’t care.’

Caught between wanting to laugh and wanting to cry, Time very carefully and deliberately did neither of those two things. ‘Very true, and very kind of you, Wild,’ he acknowledged aloud. ‘I may not always show it, but I do frequently worry about Twilight.’ It wasn’t even a lie.

‘Ditto,’ Hyrule said impatiently. ‘More importantly –’ and Time couldn’t help but feel a little indignant about that ‘– Wolfie, can you find a scent trail for Legend? He’s supposed to be nearby, right?’

Twilight’s drooping ears flicked upright as he dropped his snout to the ground, tail wagging at the chance to do something helpful.

(Such a good puppy, that one.)

Time shook the usual intrusive cooing from his mind, along with the brief and unfortunate surge of hope at Hyrule’s suggestion. ‘Wolfie’s senses are short range,’ he explained reluctantly. ‘Unless Legend was right here in this spot, we might have to –’

Twilight gave a raucous, full body sneeze followed by a high-pitched whine of complaint as he dropped his nose back to the ground, tail wagging frantically.

Wild leaned in curiously. ‘I think he found something,’ he suggested. ‘Is it Legend?’

Twilight paused, then gave a half-hearted whine. Stepping in as translator, Time asked, ‘Is that a no? A maybe?’ The wolf hesitated at the first option and then nodded quickly at the second.

‘Better than nothing,’ Hyrule suggested dubiously.

‘As he says,’ agreed Time. ‘Lead the way then, Wolfie.’

The longer they spent following the trail, the less likely it seemed to Wild that said trail actually belonged to a life-sized Hylian, let alone an injured one.

At each flight of stairs, “Wolfie”’s nose appeared more interested in the balustrade than the steps. From there, the trail clung close to the wall, only to dart out again across ledges too narrow and fallen branches too thin for even the wolf himself to stand on, followed by a crack in the wall that only Wolfie’s snout actually fit through. All in all, significantly more time was spent scouting out alternate paths and looping back rather than progressing, the upside of that being the perfect opportunity for Wild to finally confront their canine companion.

Pausing long enough to confirm that Hyrule and Time were still, with the combined use of Time’s hookshot and Hyrule’s ladder, making their way down the latest of several shattered staircases, he knelt to whisper into the wolf’s ear. ‘Hey, Twi?’

‘Woof?’

‘You know, I’m starting to think I was pranked about that whole “Wolfie being a secret” thing.’

‘WOOF?!’

Wild inspected the animal’s panicked gaze with a critical eye. ‘That seemed like a genuine reaction,’ he allowed. ‘But you have to admit the facts are not in your favour. Right?’

‘…Woof?’

Wild ticked it off on his fingers. ‘Well, for starters: there was Hyrule’s lukewarm reaction to Twilight’s sudden disappearance and Wolfie’s sudden reappearance just now. Yes, he’s a bit distracted, but he still should’ve had more to say than that. Then there’s the part where you mentioned Legend having somehow learned the truth on his own. I didn’t tell him and I doubt Time would have broken your trust either. And sure, maybe you were the one who told Time and maybe Legend figured it out himself and maybe he was the one who told Hyrule, and maybe everyone else has no idea who Wolfie is, but that brings me to my third point, which is that the entire concept of “Wolfie” as an independent being who is your pet that you just happen to never be seen in the same space at the same time as is just fundamentally not that convincing. So, now I’m wondering: am I being pranked? Is this one of those hazing rituals where you tell the new guy something dumb just to see how gullible he is?

‘I guess I am pretty gullible, after all,’ Wild went on. ‘You knew that, right? You already knew I was a massive dumbass. So yes, shame on me for that, but also: wow, way to punch up. At a baby. Being me, the gullible dumbass newcomer barging into an established group of deeply respectable heroes from across the ages. And we’re not even on my turf right now and I honestly feel a bit weird about that, exciting as it is, so sure: way to prank that guy. Real big of you.’

‘Woof, woof!’ Twilight said vehemently and deeply incomprehensively.

‘You know I don’t speak wolf, right?’ Wild reminded him.

Twilight gave a sad whine and shoved his snout into Wild’s neck, rubbing his head against Wild’s chin. Wild made a face, even as he raised a hand to obligingly pet the shapeshifted human (who was really hamming up the whole pretending-to-be-an-animal thing if Wild was honest). ‘You know I have no idea what that one means either, right?’ Wild stated. He sighed. ‘I guess we may as well park this until you can actually talk. Just keep in mind that I’m onto your shit.’

With a huff of what sounded like exasperation, Twilight continued to press against him. Wild took revenge by continuing to run fingers through that oh-so-pettable fur. Ha, take that.

‘All good there?’ Time’s voice called.

Wild jolted. Not without regret, he freed himself and rose to his feet. ‘All good,’ he replied. ‘Wolfie found something interesting, though.’

He strode over and extended his hand to display the collection of cracked seeds he’d retrieved.

Time frowned as he cupped that hand with both of his own, thumbs brushing at Wild’s wrist. ‘Wild, you’re still shivering,’ he stated unexpectedly. ‘Are you quite sure you’re alright? Need another cloak?’

‘Just how many conveniently me-sized cloaks do you even have in that bag of yours?’ Wild asked irritably, then quickly added, ‘No, don’t answer that; I don’t even want to know. The seeds: give them a sniff, would you?’

Time gave him an unhappy look but obligingly leaned in, only to recoil from Wild’s offering. ‘What on earth?’ he choked out.

Nose wrinkling, Hyrule leaned in to conduct his own investigation. ‘It smells like blood mixed with urine mixed with fear sweat mixed with rotting meat,’ was his scientific assessment.

Well, that was oddly specific. Wild shrugged. ‘There’s a flowering tree over in the south-east of my Hyrule with a similar scent, though it’s a bit less… potent. Still not something I’d voluntarily spend much time around, though the seeds themselves don’t smell that bad until you crack them open like this. Either way, I’m not seeing any trees nearby that could’ve dropped these, let alone in such an odd location. Or, more to the point: in such an ingenious location.’ He grinned. ‘Did either of you notice how there are no monsters around here?’

‘Should there be?’ Time asked warily.

Wild rolled his eyes. ‘Why are you asking me, Mr Dungeon Logic? But sure: there should be, and there were, earlier. Let me show you where they went.’

He led the way over to the large section of cracked flooring that made up the back half of the room. There, far below, was what looked like the collapsed ruins of an old cellar: windowless, doorless, and, importantly, covered in fresh monster corpses. Some of those corpses looked quite large, though it was difficult to make out the details amidst the gloom.

‘When I ducked my head down there earlier I could spot a few that were still alive, but I think they’re stuck,’ Wild offered. ‘And see that ledge on the opposite side?’ He pointed to the thin scrap of intact flooring still clinging valiantly to the foundations. ‘That’s where I found the seeds. The trail Wolfie was following led over there too. Now, watch this.’

Wild plucked one of the broken seeds from his collection, displayed it briefly to the others and then dropped it down below.

Movement surged within the shadows. The quiet ambience of the ruins was broken by a monstrous growl as the survivors flared up in agitation, milling around the location of the fallen seed.

‘Some kind of chemical lure, I think,’ Wild concluded gleefully. ‘A pretty strong one, too. I mean, I already knew it was possible to bait monsters with food, but I’ve never seen that kind of reaction before. Wouldn’t mind Flora’s eye over these.’ Ah, the possibilities.

Hyrule brightened. ‘Hold on: I’m pretty sure Legend has seeds like that! Or had them, at least. His second or third quest, I think? But –’ He deflated. ‘But Legend doesn’t have any of his things with him right now. Not even his sword.’ Hyrule’s gaze flickered gloomily to the weapon strapped to his right shoulder, still faintly glowing from whatever Fado had done to it.

‘It’s not like seeds need any special manufacturing,’ Wild argued. ‘You’d just need to be able to recognise the tree and grab a handful or so to take with you. And once you’ve got them, it’s easy enough to crack them open. A dagger would work, or even a rock. Teeth if you were really desperate, though it’s probably not a particularly pleasant thing to put in your mouth.’ Actually, they did look a bit gnawed on if Wild looked closely. Gross. ‘Either way… well, I don’t know for sure or anything, but maybe it’s a good sign?’

Hyrule nodded slowly. ‘You could be right,’ he conceded. ‘This whole set-up definitely seems like something Legend would do.’ With renewed vigour, he turned to Twilight and asked, ‘You still have the trail, right? Shall we keep moving?’

Twilight let out a bark of agreement, tail wagging as he dropped his nose back to the floor and scurried off towards the broken doorway to the far side of the room. Hyrule followed close after and Wild made to do the same, only to abruptly hesitate, glancing back towards the makeshift pit trap and its disaffected new tenants.

Just leaving them there like that seemed… a little mean, really.

Not that Wild was some kind of monster sympathiser or anything, of course! He was a stone-cold monster-killer with the title to prove it. He’d slain hordes. Over and over again, every time the Blood Moon rose. Didn’t even think twice about it. They didn’t call him the Hero of the Wild for nothing.

His traitorous hands proceeded to drop several hunks of perfectly seasoned and meticulously flame-grilled meat into the pit.

‘Wild,’ said Time.

‘Just to taunt them,’ Wild clarified quickly as he pivoted from the scene of the crime. ‘I mean, there’s no way they can climb out, and a little extra sustenance isn’t going to change that. I just thought it’d be funny to –’

‘Wild,’ Time said seriously, ‘you’re still shaking. What’s wrong?’

‘Oh,’ said Wild, looking down at hands that were, in fact, still shaking. ‘Right. It’s uh, it’s fine, though. I’m fine. Don’t worry.’

Time proceeded to give him the puppy dog eyes. Startlingly convincing puppy dog eyes, really, coming from a grown man much taller than Wild. Why was he so good at that?! Did he get it from Twilight or something?! Madness.

‘Please, Wild,’ Time entreated sadly, ‘tell me what’s wrong. Is there anything I can do to help?’

‘I…’ Wild looked away, for occupational health and safety reasons. ‘I’m fine, alright? I’m not hurt, or sick or anything. Promise. Just something about this place… about the air of it or something… I don’t know, it just…’ He brushed awkwardly at his arms. ‘It’s just cold and weird, and it makes me feel twitchy. It’s kind of –’

Abruptly, he recognised it. ‘It’s like the Shrine of Resurrection,’ he realised aloud.

Time jolted. ‘The Shrine of Resurrection?!’

‘It’s not the same, just… similar somehow,’ Wild backpedalled. ‘The chill in the air, the… I don’t know what. Forget it; I’m ok. I just get twitchy sometimes. Sorry.’

Wild was relatively sure that the puppy dog eyes had returned at full force over his head, so he wasn’t entirely surprised by the hug that followed. He was surprised at how nice that hug felt, considering all the plate armour in the way. Was Time just that good at hugging?

(Was Wild maybe just a little touch starved?)

He quickly shoved both Time and that deeply unnecessary thought away as Hyrule and Twilight poked their heads back into the room, the former calling, ‘Wild? Time? What’s going on?’

‘Nothing!’ Wild replied with a bright and hopefully convincing smile. ‘We’re coming!’

He hurried off to join the others, thoroughly ignoring the reproachful eyes burning their mark into the back of his head.

They were just starting their ascent of the final set of stairs, with Time’s brain still frantically spinning through Worried Dad Mode (not that Wild or any of the others except maybe Twilight had actually accepted him as some kind of father-figure, mind you; it was just a turn of phrase), when Wild suddenly spoke again.

‘Time?’ he began cautiously, ‘Can I ask a question? Kind of, uh… kind of tied to what we were talking about earlier?’

Time’s ears perked up. ‘Of course. What is it?’

Wild hesitated. ‘What was… what was Fado talking about before? I mean, the part where she said that… well, she called you “Other Link”, and she said that the Link that she knew was already long dead. And that he was younger than you when it happened. What was that about?’

That wasn’t what Time had been expecting at all.

Maybe his resulting blank expression had been a little off-putting, because Wild quickly added, ‘Obviously you don’t have to tell me. Just, I mean… are we undeath buddies or something?’

‘“Undeath buddies”?’ Time repeated confusedly.

Wild flushed. ‘Look, I don’t know. Is there a club for that sort of thing? We can form one if you like. Special exclusive club for people named Link who died and then got brought back to life by science or magic or whatever?’

‘Oh,’ said Time. ‘Well, uh… it’s not exactly, the same, but I suppose we are “undeath buddies”… in a way?’

‘In a way?’

‘In a “time shenanigans” way?’ Time suggested dubiously. ‘I think that’s what we’re calling them. Basically –’

‘Link was definitely dead back then,’ Fado had confidently stated.

‘I don’t know how exactly, but I’m relatively sure that the person we just met came from another timeline,’ Time said heavily. ‘A timeline where I failed and died young. Specifically, that’s Legend and Hyrule’s timeline.’

‘And Wild’s,’ Hyrule contributed from ahead.

Time startled – he hadn’t noticed that the other hero had been listening. He glanced over to see that Twilight had turned his head back as well, though the wolf quickly dropped his nose back to the ground when their eyes met.

‘I didn’t realise you’d figured out where Wild fit into all this,’ Time commented.

Hyrule turned back to the front. ‘I didn’t realise you’d figured out where your alternate self fit into all this.’

‘Legend gave me a bit of an overview yesterday,’ said Time. ‘Although…’

He thought back to that conversation: to the tragic tale of a hero who gave his life to fend off an unbeatable demon, to the hints of a great and terrible war that had followed, to the slow and steady recovery of the land. He weighed it against Fado’s own story and against what Time himself had seen of Legend’s era: from the choked, polluted waterways to the landmines hidden in the grass, to the veritable hordes of overpowered monsters. He weighed it against Legend’s dismal self-esteem, Hyrule’s jumpiness, Wild’s scars –

‘I do get the sense he glossed over a few things,’ Time concluded.

‘Legend likes you a lot,’ Hyrule said sharply. ‘He likes his… predecessor a lot too. A surprising amount, really. If he did gloss over things, I doubt he did it to deceive you.’

‘A… surprising amount?’ Wild echoed.

‘What is there to say?’ Hyrule said bitterly. ‘The Fallen Hero of my own era was an over-glorified footnote to Legend’s far more impressive tale. I hadn’t thought much of it until we all met like this. And then, fancy that: turns out there’s a parallel universe where that hero never lost and wasn’t killed, where Ganon never gained the Triforce and never became the Great King of Evil or the Calamity or anything.’

A sudden chill crept through Time’s veins. ‘What?’

‘Yeah, what?’ asked Wild. ‘What’s this about the Calamity?’

Hyrule’s shoulders slumped. ‘Well, that’s how I knew where Wild fit into the timeline: “Calamity Ganon” only exists in our version of history. Or rather, there’s an event called the “Great Cataclysm” described in an old prophecy. It’s not unreasonable to think that that became the “Calamity” of Wild’s era.

‘It goes like this: “if a person with an evil heart claims the Triforce, a Hero is destined to appear. He alone must face the one who unleashed the Great Cataclysm. If the evil one destroys the Hero, nothing can save the world from its wicked reign”.

‘I used to think those words only referred to Legend, but it must’ve meant Time’s alternate self too,’ Hyrule went on, ‘because it’s true, after all: nothing can stop Ganon, now. Not permanently, at least. Not in our timeline. We can seal him away, or even kill him, but he’ll always come back eventually, one way or another. Even Legend couldn’t change that fact, for all that he managed to put it off for centuries in the end.’

‘Not quite the ten thousand years of my predecessor, then,’ Wild remarked, earning himself a well-justified “fuck you, Wild” from Hyrule.

Time barely registered the exchange. ‘So, in other words,’ he forced out, ‘if I hadn’t failed and died back then –’

‘Not you,’ Hyrule interjected wearily. ‘Your alternate self. And to be fair, I can hardly call that a failure, when I myself –’ He cut off abruptly and gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. ‘And in any case: considering how much Legend looks up to him, that person must have done something right.’ Hyrule paused to consider, and added thoughtfully, ‘Or Legend could just have really low standards.’

Well. That definitely made Time feel better.

‘Honestly, considering how much he also idolises me: that option makes way more sense,’ Hyrule decided.

Time bristled. ‘Now you just wait one Malon-damned moment, young man –’

‘Legend likes me too, I’ll have you know,’ Wild said loftily. ‘You really want to mock that spectacular taste?’

Hyrule flashed him a saccharine smile. ‘Wild, you’re great. Everyone loves you, not just Legend. I’ll be your undeath buddy any day.’

Midway through winding up for a retort, Wild cut off into open-mouthed confusion. ‘I, uh… don’t you have to have died for that to make sense?’

‘Yeah. And I have. A bunch of times, even. I’ll tell you about them sometime,’ Hyrule informed him. ‘Mind you, don’t tell Legend; I doubt he’ll be happy.’

Wild looked vaguely impressed. Time felt vaguely sick.

‘It’s a small and exclusive club, I hope,’ the latter offered faintly. ‘The “undeath buddies” thing, I mean.’

Wild glanced over at Hyrule. ‘Is it?’

‘Well, if anyone else among us died before, I don’t know about it,’ Hyrule offered.

‘Legend would’ve told you though, right?’ suggested Wild.

‘Legend isn’t in the club,’ Hyrule said sharply. ‘I mean, he’s basically unkillable, right? That’s his whole deal.’

‘Is it?’ asked Wild. His eyes shifted to the wolf padding at Hyrule’s side. ‘How about you, then? You want in, Wolfie?’

Time very valiantly did not collapse with relief at the withering look and subtle head shake Twilight gave them.

‘Just the three of us, then,’ Time posited before Wild or Hyrule could suggest any other temporarily departeds.

Hyrule made a face. ‘No way. Dying permanently in a parallel universe doesn’t count.’

‘Yeah, I’m with Hyrule on this one,’ Wild agreed. ‘Commit to the bit, old man.’

Time was relatively sure he was in his thirties. Time was relatively sure that most people would not have classified him as an old man. Time was also relatively sure that a good part of his hair had turned grey during the course of the conversation. ‘What?!’ he said exasperatedly. ‘Commit to what bit? What even is “the bit” in that context?’

‘Living,’ Hyrule supplied helpfully. ‘Legend deserves a proper predecessor after all. Even setting the whole Ganon thing to one side: better you than that other guy.’

Time had the distinct impression that he would regret asking, but went on to say, ‘What do you mean?’

Before Hyrule could manage to pull together a response, Twilight gave a sharp bark and dashed up the final flight of stairs towards the temple entrance. Time and his companions exchanged quick, startled glances before rushing after.

By the time they emerged, Twilight was already spitting out the mangled corpse of one small bat-like monster and lunging for the next. Time rushed to intercept a moblin club aimed at his protégé’s back while Hyrule swiftly stabbed the foe in its side. In the next instant, one of Wild’s arrows sprouted from a neighbouring bokoblin.

With the four of them working together, the fight didn’t take long at all. A few minutes later, Time wiped his claymore off on the dry, unhealthy-looking grass, then cast a curious glance up at the sky – bright orange and grey, thick with the same chaotic eddies of ambient dark magic that he’d noticed inside – followed by an exasperated stare at the wolf rushing heedlessly across the area with his nose to the ground.

Wild dropped from the tree nearby, nearly giving Time a heart attack. ‘Is he lost or something?’ the younger hero asked. Glancing over, Time saw that Wild’s hands were stuffed with the same reeking seeds they’d found in the temple – fresh ones, in fact, plucked from that very tree.

Time frowned. ‘In order to come this way… Legend would’ve had to go past those monsters, wouldn’t he? Did he sneak past somehow?’

With renewed interest, Time pursued his descendant all the way over to the edge of the cliff, where a cord of thick wire spanned the deep chasm.

Time stared at the tightrope. Time turned his head and took in the far-more-functional (albeit creaking in the wind) wooden bridge that stood about ten-to-fifteen metres to the right.

‘I like that one better,’ he said faintly, only to find Twilight, in full opposable-thumb-lacking lupine form, already padding his way across the slender metal death trap. Wild apparently took that as his own cue to leap across, paraglider in hand, and narrowly avoid concussing himself on the opposing cliff-face.

‘Shall we?’ Hyrule asked politely, gesturing towards the bridge.

At least one of them had sense.

Without further ado, they both headed for the non-utterly-insane route. On arrival, Time held out an arm to halt his companion, instead carefully testing the way ahead with his own foot. Thankfully, the bridge appeared sturdy enough to hold his weight, which meant it would definitely suffice for Hyrule – Hyrule, who had not waited for this finding and instead already began to cross.

Time’s disappointed look received a raised eyebrow in response. ‘I can transform into a fairy if need be,’ Hyrule pointed out. ‘What was your plan?’

‘Oh,’ said Time, who had prepared no such thing.

Hyrule scowled. He bit his lip, staring off to one side, then turned back to Time and said, ‘You asked me earlier, right? Why it would be better for Legend to look up to you than to his real predecessor? Well, I have a question of my own.’

‘And that is?’ asked Time.

‘What does it mean when your unkillable hero looks up to someone very, very killable?’ Hyrule said quietly. He shook his head and went on, ‘What does it mean when the person who taught you how to survive anything thinks it’s somehow commendable to die a martyr? Or when you meet that person and find out that he’s a lot more reckless than you thought? That he’s the kind of person who wouldn’t hesitate to dash in front of a blow meant for you, that he’ll blame himself for every little thing that goes wrong, that he’ll hide his pain, no matter how much he’s hurting, that he’ll refuse to show weakness or ask for help, and…’

Hyrule paused briefly, then went on tightly, ‘And what if you rely on him? Whether it’s the real him or even just the hollow version of him sitting in your head. What if you rely on him too much, if he doesn’t rely on you at all, and all of a sudden you’re terrified, more terrified than you’ve ever been, that he might just –’

Hyrule broke off with a shudder and a deep breath. In an almost-normal tone, he concluded, ‘Well, that ended up being a lot of questions I guess, but here’s a statement to finish it off: you’re officially banned from the undeath buddies club. Cool kids only. Definitely no weird old Heroes of Time. Later.’

‘Hyrule, wait,’ Time pressed, grasping his companion’s wrist before it could move away.

He hesitated, thinking through that recent conversation with Legend once again. Truthfully, there was nothing irrational in Hyrule’s quavering words, but something about them and that other conversation didn’t quite mesh. What was it Legend had said exactly?

‘A miracle,’ Time muttered to himself. ‘He called it a miracle.’

‘You’re kind of a miracle to me, you know?’ Legend had said shyly.

‘What?’ Hyrule asked, and Time only then realised that he’d spoken aloud.

‘I mean,’ he quickly explained, ‘I think Legend has already realised some of what you’re talking about. I think –’ He hesitated. ‘I think he’s doing his best. You can have a little faith in him, I think.’

Only a little, Time conceded, considering how that conversation had occurred earlier in the same day that Legend had run off into the Lost Woods in a blind panic. Even so, a little was a very good start.

Hyrule tugged his wrist away. ‘I always have faith in him,’ he grumbled. ‘And I’m still not letting you into that club.’

‘Well,’ said Time, ‘damn. And there I was, so very ready to commit to that bit.’

And if the corner of Hyrule’s mouth just so happened to curve upwards as they made their way back to the others, Time decided that he’d count it as a win.

Chapter Text

The distant twinging in Wind’s extra senses went sharp once again. He startled awake and made to roll to his feet, only to be halted by a weight over his middle. Several panicked moments passed before reality caught up with him. He let his head drop back down with a quiet sigh.

Hurricane Sky had come and gone, which was to say that after thirty or so minutes of the most forceful and overbearing fussing about that Wind had ever faced – except perhaps for that one time he’d fallen ill while visiting the Rito – the Chosen Hero had made good on his threat to pass out right on top of his three thoroughly mollycoddled, blanket-cocooned victims, thoughtfully placing Four’s coughing mouth and running nose to the opposite side of their arrangement. And perhaps Wind might have considered putting up at least a token resistance if not for the fact that a) sleep-deprived Sky was a fucking menace, apparently, b) that fucking menace had somehow managed to get both Four and Warriors to actually settle down and rest, and c) Wind was, as his companions would do well to remember, a wise, perceptive and mature young man who did not, where he could avoid it, pick unwinnable fights with ancient unknowable horrors. The net result: a peacefully snoring immovable object sprawled atop two otherwise unstoppable dumbasses, and also, unfortunately, atop Wind.

Regrettable indeed.

Over in the direction of the Lost Woods, a mass of dark magic seethed at the edges of Wind’s awareness like a hive of wasps disturbed by an intruder. That could, he supposed, be a sign that the search party was on the right track. Or that they were rushing pointlessly into danger. Or it could be totally irrelevant, because fuck if Wind knew, sitting on his arse as he was. Lying down on his arse, even.

Alas: foiled once again by a Hylian-sized, Sky-shaped paperweight.

‘Ngh…’

With an indistinct, unhappy grumble, said paperweight suddenly twitched and shuddered, clutching at the blankets. Restrained as he was, Wind held an unfortunate front row seat to the steady tightening of Sky’s expression, but before he could quite decide between waking Sky up or letting him gain what rest he could, nightmares or no, those navy-blue eyes snapped open on their own, dazed and distant before they flickered over and met Wind’s. His tense expression turned sympathetic. ‘Can’t sleep, sailor?’ Sky asked gently.

Wind gave him an unimpressed stare. Sky huffed in amusement and added haughtily, ‘Yeah, well I don’t have a concussion.’

Warriors stirred with a soft mumble. Sky froze and shot a guilty glance in his direction.

In a whisper, Wind replied, ‘Hyrule already dealt with the concussion thing. And it wasn’t all that bad, anyway. Can you get off me now?’

Sky’s eyes flashed warningly, but even as he opened his mouth to argue, he seemed to reconsider. ‘Fine,’ he acquiesced. ‘I’ll get us some tea, then.’

He rolled to his feet and then turned to help Wind – which was to say that the younger hero was promptly bundled up in a blanket and then princess-lifted to the couch in an act that might not quite qualify as the absolute peak of dignity. Mature and generous as he was, Wind decided to play along, if only because his companion still looked so drained and upset.

It didn’t take long for Sky to return with two steaming mugs in hand. He pressed one into Wind’s hands and set the other down on the floor while he fussed around with the blankets, finally tugging Wind into his side with a soft sigh.

‘What’s wrong, sailor?’ Sky asked quietly. ‘Is there anything I can do to help?’

Wind blinked, admittedly caught off guard. ‘I’m fine,’ he said belligerently. ‘You’re the one having nightmares.’

Sky paused to consider. ‘I’ll tell you about my thing if you tell me about yours?’ he offered hopefully.

Oh, now that was unfair.

Wind glowered. ‘You go first,’ he demanded.

Sky gave a light laugh. ‘Gets ’em every time,’ he teased, gently flicking Wind’s nose. The fleeting levity faded from his voice as he explained, ‘You could call them nightmares, I suppose, but sometimes they’re more than that. At least, I think they are. It’s hard to know exactly what they are, but I can’t think of them as completely meaningless. Do you know what I mean?’

Wind’s mind strayed to those initial moments after Tetra’s crew had discovered the two of them on board the Ghost Ship. ‘It was probably a bad dream,’ Niko had decided.

‘Nope,’ Wind replied promptly. ‘You’re gonna have to be more specific.’

Sky looked at him curiously for a moment before he obligingly continued, ‘Before my quest started, I used to have these strange dreams. Incredibly vivid, but showing places I’d never visited – places I had no reason to believe existed. After all, I lived my whole life up in the skies. It’d been millennia since we’d all been sent up there. But the places I saw in those dreams… the things I saw…

‘It didn’t make sense at the time, but from the moment I arrived in that strange surface world, I had the weirdest sense of déjà vu. Only got worse as things went on. And then there was this monster that I’d been seeing in my dreams, time and time again… I’d told myself it was just a nightmare, and even as the evidence started piling up, I didn’t want to think…’

Sky paused for breath, giving the opposite wall a half-hearted smile. ‘I actually thought it might be one of those “Hero’s Spirit” things, but I guess not. I’m glad: it’s not as if those visions ever really helped me much, anyway. The opposite, even. Just a whole heap of insomnia and far too much fear. When the time came and I finally encountered that monster in the flesh… honestly, I froze up. At least for a few moments. I’d never felt that kind of fear before, and somehow I think… if I hadn’t had all of those horrible dreams, then…’

He sighed. ‘I suppose it was all part of some divine plan, maybe. To make sure I’d take it seriously, I suppose? But I’m only mortal, after all. Like Wild was saying yesterday: sometimes it’d be nice if all those grand forces that rule our destinies just explained themselves upfront, wouldn’t it?’

That was… unusually bitter, and almost blasphemous, coming from Sky, Wind thought. Perhaps a little too much surprise showed on his face, because Sky glanced over and outright laughed at his expression. Jokingly, he asked, ‘Should I have kept all that to myself, then?’

‘It’s fine,’ Wind said hastily. ‘I’m not gonna snitch to Sun or anything.’

‘You can if you want,’ Sky offered unconcernedly. ‘I’m pretty sure she agrees with me. To an extent at least.’ He shrugged. ‘She has Hylia’s soul and most of her memories, but I think it’s a bit different, having those as a mortal. Walking the same ground, crawling the same mud… ah, but never mind all that. I’ve done my part: now, are you going to tell me about your thing, or not?’

Wind made a face. ‘You didn’t even tell me what you were dreaming about.’

‘Nothing meaningful,’ Sky said resentfully. ‘Just glimpses of this and that. Dark clouds covering the sky, a treasure chest bound in chains bursting open, a girl who might have been a Zelda, though not any of the ones we’ve met. The…’ He winced. ‘I saw the Master Sword, but it was terribly rusted, covered in vines. I went to draw it from the ground, but the hand I saw wasn’t mine.’

‘Whose was it?’ Wind asked, intrigued despite himself.

‘That’s the question, isn’t it?’ said Sky. ‘If only I knew. Maybe then I could make some sense of all this.’ He yawned and added, ‘Oh right, and then I had this weird dream where you ’n’ Wars were sneaking out of bed so I picked you both up and threw you back.’

‘Oh,’ said Wind. ‘No, I’m pretty sure that one actually happened.’

Sky considered. ‘Huh. Guess it did.’ He yawned again.

Wind inspected Sky’s tired, shadowy eyes, and gently suggested, ‘Maybe you should try and get some more sleep?’

Sky shook his head and took a deep gulp of tea. ‘That’s not happening anytime soon, I don’t think,’ he replied. ‘Anyway, you still have to tell me about your thing, right? Don’t think I forgot.’

Wind sighed. ‘My thing,’ he explained, ‘is that I had a second adventure that may or may not have actually happened, which gave me the awesome ability to see around walls along with the far less awesome side-effect of me becoming extra sensitive to dark magic. Which sucks since Twilight’s era is kind of overflowing with it. Especially this huge area to the north, which is where half our group headed this morning. It could just be a hallucination and all – seems my senses are playing up a bit lately – except that I sensed it before the concussion. It’s just worse now than it was before. Love that for them, love that for us.’

There. Done. Concise, complete and easily understood, or so Wind thought until, several long seconds later, he turned to find Sky staring at him in open-mouthed confusion.

‘What?’ Wind demanded indignantly. ‘You got a problem with that?’

‘Uhh… no…?’ Sky said hesitantly. ‘Just that… that was a fair bit at once. Umm, but…’ He paused to think. ‘You’re worried about the others?’

Wind scoffed. ‘Hard not to be, right? Whatever; I’m not gonna be dumb about it. Just saying.’

Sky frowned and said carefully, ‘In that case, have you… have you considered maybe contacting them?’

Wind stared at him blankly for a long moment.

‘Oh,’ he concluded succinctly. ‘Right. That’s a thing I can do, huh?’

Sky’s lip quirked upwards. ‘I did tell them to let you and the others rest,’ he added, ‘so you don’t need to be worried about the fact that Wild hasn’t been in touch. Still, if you wouldn’t mind?’

‘Right, right,’ Wind said distractedly. He fished out his pendant, fed a small amount of magic into the stone and waited.

Several seconds passed.

With waning patience, Sky began, ‘Umm… are you –?’

Wind let the pendant fall back against his chest. ‘Wild’s not answering.’

Sky tensed, then made a poor attempt at a relaxed smile. ‘I – I see. Well. They’re, uh, probably in the middle of something, right? Or maybe Wild just didn’t notice? He missed you yesterday too, right? I’m sure we’ll hear back soon enough. Right?’

There was something slightly less than comforting about the edge of desperation in Sky’s tone. Wind did his best to not let it bother him. ‘You’re probably right,’ he allowed. ‘Give ’em some time, I guess?’

‘Exactly,’ Sky agreed. ‘And for now –’

There was a sudden knock at the door.

Sky’s tremulous smile fell to irritation. ‘That couldn’t be them, could it?’

‘Nope,’ said Wind. ‘I don’t recognise their auras at all.’

‘Auras, huh?’ muttered Sky, still staring at the door.

Wind scowled. ‘Well, they’re no prophetic dreams, but yeah. Besides: if it was our lot, they’d just walk right in, don’t you think?’

‘I wasn’t doubting you,’ said Sky. ‘It’s just a rather useful talent, is all.’ He rose to his feet and headed over to the front of the house. Wind watched as he firmly and decisively drew the deadbolt back in place (wow, Twilight, way to not lock your own door) and then engaged the chain lock for good measure. He walked back to Wind and sat back down.

‘No visitors today,’ Sky stated firmly.

Right on cue, the deadbolt clicked back open. ‘Hah!’ crowed an unfamiliar voice. ‘Next time, try not leaving your spare key under the doormat, ya country bumpki– huh?’

There was a light jangle as the door prodded inquisitively at its unexpected secondary boundary.

‘Foiled by a chain,’ Wind lamented. ‘Wow, if that isn’t relatable.’

In a significantly louder voice, Sky snarled, ‘I said no fucking visitors.’

There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a loud crash as the door burst open, snapping the chain free from its fixture in the adjacent wall. Warriors and Four both jerked awake, immediately searching frantically for their weapons.

An armour-clad leg drew back from the hallway as the tall, sword-wielding woman it belonged to stepped forward and slammed the door shut behind her. ‘Who the fuck are you, and where the fuck is Link?!’ she demanded fiercely, brandishing her sword directly into Warriors’s confused and anxious face.

There was a rush of air at Wind’s side. He spared a brief, confused look for the suddenly empty space there. From his new position in front of the intruder, Sky announced frostily, ‘The polite thing would be to introduce yourself first, wouldn’t it?’

The door creaked back open and a meek voice spoke up. ‘Hey, Ashei, I’m pretty sure those are –’

Without breaking eye contact, the woman (Ashei?) kicked the door closed and shoved the deadbolt back into place. ‘I asked a fucking question, you shit-for-brains squatters, and you’d better hurry and give me an answer I like,’ she snarled.

‘Funny, that,’ Sky growled right back, ‘’cause I’m pretty sure I don’t have any answers for the likes of you. I’m already in a bad mood, so I suggest you leave quickly and quietly.’

‘Or else what, Mr Tough Guy?’ Ashei sneered.

Sky’s posture only tightened further. ‘Well, if you need some assistance with vacating the premises, I’d be more than happy to provide it.’

He reached for his sword.

‘H-hey,’ Warriors protested as he struggled to stand. ‘Sky, let’s not jump to – kuh.’ He staggered, clutching his head, and fell. Sky was there in a flash.

‘It’s ok, captain; I got this. You just go back to sleep, alright?’ Sky soothed, gentle tone entirely at odds with the murderous look on his face. Ignoring all protests, he carefully resettled Warriors on the floor a few metres back from where he had been. With a sense of deep foreboding, Wind hurried closer, only for a hand on his chest to halt him mid-way.

Sky gave a familiar sinister smile. Wind gulped.

That wasn’t Sky’s “ditzy, sleepy, loveable cuddler” face. That was Sky’s “I’m a loose cannon and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem” face.

‘As I was saying,’ Sky went on pleasantly, ‘I’m rather busy right now. I’ll give you one last chance: leave. Now.’

Ashei’s expression snapped from its bewilderment and back into a harsh soldier’s mien. ‘You’re the one that needs to fuck off,’ she spat. ‘What, you think I’m gonna let you get away with squatting in Link’s house and stealing his shit? Dream on.’

‘Your funeral,’ Sky said coldly.

‘Hah! Dig your own grave first, jackass,’ Ashei snapped. ‘I learned from the best of the best. I’m not about to lose to some rich poser armed with a fancy block of… wait a second: isn’t that Link’s sword?! Why the fuck do you have Link’s sword?!’

The woman’s aura exploded outwards with renewed fury. Sky’s was quick to follow. Wind winced.

‘Seen this sword before, have you?’ Sky hissed. ‘Maybe been on the wrong end of it once or twice?’

Well, shit. Sky protective mode engaged. That was a disaster waiting to happen.

Wind stepped forward and made a quick, desperate attempt at salvaging the situation. ‘Look. Ashei, right?’ he said charmingly. ‘There’s actually a really good explanation for all this. We haven’t hurt Link and we’re not planning to. He’s not here right now, but if you’ll just wait – ’

‘He’s not here, he’s nowhere near here and he won’t be coming back here so piss off,’ Sky cut in, with a quick, sharp glance at Wind that roughly translated to: don’t tell her anything.

A loyal sentiment, but Wind couldn’t help but think Sky might be overreacting just a –

‘And now you’re kidnapping children?!’ Ashei yelled back.

Ah.

Hmm.

Well.

Wind paused to consider this new information. ‘You know what? Fine,’ he decided calmly. ‘This is nothing to do with me. Have fun, kiddos.’

He settled back to watch.

Warriors gave him a vaguely disappointed look, then turned hazy eyes on Four, who had, by that point, managed to locate his weapon. Immediately dashing any foolish hopes of rationality, the feverish hero drew the Four Sword and yelled, ‘Bitch, I won’t hesitate!’

There was a flash of light. As it faded, three of the four fourths of Four immediately stumbled and fell.

‘What the fuck, Blue?’ Vio groaned into the rug. As if in response, the remaining twenty-five percent plopped right down beside the others, mumbling something about how it “seemed like a good idea at the time”.

Wind winced as Sky’s chaotic aura blasted through the room in renewed fury. ‘Damn it!’ he wailed desperately. ‘One sick person was enough; I don’t want four of them! I don’t want it! I don’t, I don’t, I don’t!’

‘Dude, what the fuck?!’ Ashei asked, sounding appalled. ‘What is wrong with all of you?’

The last sliver of Sky’s restraint slipped away. ‘That’s fucking it; I’ve fucking had it!’ he shouted. ‘Fight me already, you piece of sh– ouch!’

Sky yelped as he dropped the Master Sword, clutching at his burned hand.

Ashei looked down at the floor, then up again. ‘Did you just drop your sword?’ she verified.

‘Well, maybe if my sword wasn’t being a judgemental prick, this wouldn’t be a problem!’ Sky spat. ‘Whatever! Fine! Guess we’re doing things the old-fashioned way!’

He reached into his pouch and pulled out a bug net.

Ashei stared at him incredulously. Sky brandished his new weapon, killing aura refusing to shift one iota.

‘Fuck,’ muttered Ashei. ‘Suddenly this is stupid.’

‘It’s been stupid for a while, actually,’ Wind disputed helpfully.

‘Hah!’ scoffed Sky. ‘If you even knew the kind of demons I’ve fought off with this, you wouldn’t –’

With Ashei suitably distracted, the door opened once again, and a weedy-looking man with large round glasses poked his head inside. ‘Can we come in now?’ he asked.

Sky jolted. ‘Shad?!’ he said disbelievingly.

‘Wait, what?’ asked Ashei.

‘Hey Sky,’ said Shad, giving a brief wave. ‘Long time no see. Can’t help but uh… feel a little confused about this situation, though.’

The various shades of Four offered up various shades of welcome and agreement.

‘Hold up. Hold everything,’ demanded Ashei. ‘Since when do you two know each other?!’

‘I did tell you about Link’s new companions, I think?’ Shad said patiently. ‘You remember that?’

‘Wait – that’s them?! Really?’ Ashei said blankly. ‘Huhhhh.’ She sent a quick, guilty glance at the splintered doorframe and mangled chain lock, and concluded, ‘Yeah. Ok. My bad.’

And honestly – Sky’s own contributions notwithstanding – that did feel like a slight understatement. Nonetheless, Wind had bigger fish to fry. ‘Did you say “Shad”?’ he asked dubiously. ‘As in Twilight’s boyfriend?’

‘Yep, that’s him. You two haven’t met yet, have you?’ Warriors said wearily. ‘Shad, meet Wind. Wind, meet Shad. As for the rest of us: I’m Warriors, this is Sky, those are Blue, Green, Vio and Red.’

‘Oh. Uhh. Nice to meet you,’ Ashei said awkwardly. ‘Name’s Ashei. Link’s a friend of mine.’

‘He did mention you, I think,’ Warriors acknowledged. ‘You’re part of the Resistance too, right? Link said you were up north, last he and Rusl knew.’

‘Oh. Right,’ Ashei said with a slight jolt. ‘Well, I came back to Castle Town at just the right time, and…’ She looked guiltily towards the third member of their group – a tall, thin figure clad in a grey cloak – and explained, ‘That is… I volunteered for guard duty. Couldn’t let these two go on their own. Not that Shad isn’t a fighter in his own right, but –’

‘I’m really not,’ Shad corrected.

‘W-well, in any case… uhh…’ Ashei trailed off, staring questioningly at her companion, who hesitated briefly before stepping forwards and drawing back her cowl to reveal a delicate, pale face surrounded by honey-coloured hair. Gold jewellery glinted at her ears, neck and at the back of her head, each set with sapphires and garnets to match the blue of her eyes and rose of her lips.

‘I was hoping to meet with Link,’ the woman explained. ‘It’s quite urgent, unfortunately. If he’s not here at the moment, perhaps you wouldn’t mind me awaiting his return?’

Wind glanced between Warriors and the cloaked figure, catching the moment the former’s eyes widened in recognition. ‘Your… Majesty, I presume?’ Warriors said faintly. He wobbled to a vaguely upright position on one knee and lowered his head.

‘No need for formalities, Hero,’ the Queen replied calmly. ‘It appears my arrival was poorly timed. I must apologise for the disturbance.’

Sky hesitated for a few moments more, then shoved his bug net back into the pouch from whence it came. With a mildly sheepish grin, he asked, ‘Did I maybe… misread the situation, just a little?’

It had been an hour or two at most, and Twilight was already more than a little sick of being unable to talk.

Bad enough being unable to explain his predicament to Time or to properly comfort a clearly distressed Wild, and bad enough that he hadn’t warned the others about the effects of Twili magic – because he hadn’t thought he needed to and because it just might have revealed a secret or two of his own – but then there was the fact that he couldn’t even ask why the hell he was the only one who had transformed (confusing and deeply unfair, really). And, above all, there was this:

‘Shit – they reformed again!’ Wild yelped.

The eight shadow beasts harrying their group of four had indeed reformed again.

For the second time.

Twilight wanted to cry. Instead, he settled for savagely mauling the closest monster. Its neighbour then went for an opportunistic swipe, only for Hyrule to helpfully cut it down on Twilight’s behalf. Unfortunately, Twilight’s teeth were not the most efficient (or hygienic) of weapons, and it took several more bites before his own foe finally ceased its wild thrashing. Within that short interval, Wild and Time had each taken down a monster apiece. That left four.

Breathing heavily from exertion, Wild shuffled away until he was back-to-back with Hyrule. ‘You know, I’m starting to think we should quit taking memberships for the undeath buddies club,’ he gasped.

‘Good plan,’ Hyrule agreed, viciously stabbing his next target. ‘Any other ideas?’

‘Why are you asking me?’ Wild huffed back.

‘Because you’re clever and perceptive and because I value your inputs?’ Hyrule suggested sweetly.

Wild fumbled and nearly dropped his sword.

Time shoved his sword right through the carapace of an approaching foe, then kicked the monster free from the blade. ‘Hyrule,’ he said patiently, ‘just because it’s true doesn’t mean you can bully Wild in the middle of a battle.’

Wild’s flush deepened. Hyrule scoffed. ‘That isn’t bullying; I’ll show you bully–’

A monstrous screech cut through the air, freezing the four of them in place one more.

For a moment all of them focused on the battle. Unfair as ever, the shadow beasts showed no signs of tiring, for all that the exertion was beginning to wear on the others.

‘It’s a different one doing the scream thing each time,’ Wild said suddenly. ‘If it’s anything like Mipha’s healing power, there’s probably a loading time between uses. I reckon once they’ve each done it the first time, that’s it for a while.’

‘So we just knock ’em down five more times?’ Hyrule said dubiously.

‘Better idea,’ Wild replied, ‘kill the ones that haven’t done it yet first.’ He raised his shield to parry the claws of another beast, following with a flurry of his own attacks. Somewhat breathlessly, he explained, ‘Seems they only do it once there’s only one of them left. Therefore –’ He shoved his shield into the carapace of the last beast to revive the cluster. ‘Save that one for last.’ He turned to strike a different foe.

‘No!’ Twilight argued. ‘You have to kill the final two at the same time! Otherwise, they’ll just keep reviving!’

It came out as several barks and a growl.

‘Makes sense to me,’ Time agreed, and for one foolish moment, Twilight thought he’d gotten through.

That moment passed.

A shrill scream pierced the air, emanating from the same beast as before. Twilight’s body locked up as that awful sound tore through his sensitive ears. As the eight monsters rose up once again, he shook himself free and launched his aching muscles right back into the action.

‘Sh-shit, what the fuck?’ Wild sputtered. He let out a sudden yelp of alarm.

‘Wild!’ yelled Hyrule.

Twilight chanced a quick look behind: Wild had abandoned his shield and was holding his sword in his left hand, sword arm hanging limp and dripping alarming amounts of blood. Hyrule rushed forward recklessly to slam his shield into another approaching beast. Time cursed and shifted closer, with Twilight quick to follow. Ignoring Wild’s protests, the three of them surrounded their wounded companion and fought with single-minded determination.

‘Fuck, I’m so stupid!’ Wild yelled suddenly. ‘New plan: just kill the last two at the same time.’

Twilight’s ears flicked and he gave a yip of encouragement.

Things moved blessedly quickly from there.

‘Shit, I am so dumb,’ Wild muttered once again as the final two beasts fell to the ground, stilled, then dissipated in a burst of dark particles along with all of their companions.

Hyrule glared distrustfully down at the empty space for a few more moments before turning to Wild. ‘Arm,’ he demanded in a no-nonsense tone.

Wild automatically shied away and protested, in his most unfortunate yes-nonsense tone, ‘It’s not that bad!’

In the next instant, there was a hearty elixir in his face and a deeply annoyed healer deep in his personal bubble. ‘Drink,’ Hyrule advised ominously, ‘and show me the damn injury.’

Wild decided not to argue any further. For no particular reason, really.

While he grimaced over the bitter concoction (it was no hearty truffle), Hyrule inspected his arm, tutting unhappily over the deep scratches even as the magic-infused medicine quickly and easily erased them.

Wild sighed as he lowered the empty bottle. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said. ‘I should’ve been paying more attention.’

Hyrule shook his head. ‘Happens to all of us,’ he said distractedly. ‘Anyway: do you need another potion? We have a few to spare, and I’d prefer to save my magic for now if that’s alright.’

Wild gave him an incredulous look. ‘They’re just scratches. Barely even hit the artery.’

Time gave him a Disappointed Dad stare. ‘Arteries are important, cub,’ he said patronisingly.

‘I – I know that!’ Wild retorted. ‘Wait – since when did that ridiculous nickname catch on?’

‘Fuck you, cub,’ Hyrule announced. He leaned in to complete his inspection and resentfully concluded, ‘Looks ok for now, I guess, but try not to strain that arm for a bit. Alright?’

‘Fine,’ said Wild. ‘Here’s hoping we get a break from all these monsters, then.’

With those parting words delivered, he stepped away, heading to where “Wolfie” was sniffing agitatedly at the base of a small cliff.

The wolf’s prize looked to be a small burrow in the ground, about fifteen centimetres in diameter and deep enough that Wild couldn’t see the end when he peered inside. The display of his Stasis Rune showed nothing of interest, but for completeness, he shoved his bloodstained arm inside and felt around for a moment. Still nothing.

‘Wild, what are you doing?’ Hyrule asked impatiently. ‘I literally just told you not to strain your –’

‘There’s a little hole down here,’ Wild responded absentmindedly. ‘Wolfie seems real interested in it, but I can’t find anything out of the ordinary.’ A sudden thought struck. ‘Unless…’

‘Unless?’ Hyrule prompted when Wild trailed off unhappily.

‘Well… remember how Wolfie wasn’t completely sure if the trail belonged to Legend?’ Wild said carefully. ‘I mean, I’ve noticed too… don’t know if you have, but the trail’s been a bit weird. It doesn’t seem like it’s moving like a Hylian should, and it’s fitting through places a Hylian shouldn’t.’

‘What are you getting at?’ Time asked tersely.

‘Is there a chance that… that something else could have his scent?’ Wild asked dubiously. ‘Like if a small animal stole something from him, or, like –’

It occurred to him, at that point, that hole looked very, very similar to a fox’s den, albeit much smaller than it should be.

It occurred to him, shortly after, that foxes were scavenger animals.

Well. That was.

Hmm.

‘Ah – I mean – it’s a possibility is all,’ Wild said hastily, shoving as much of that thought process as he could from his mind. ‘But this whole trail is still the only clue we have right now, so we might as well follow it, right? I was just talking to myself; forget I said anything.’

Both Hyrule and Time had gone tense again, so maybe Wild’s hasty reassurance wasn’t worth so much after all. Twilight, on the other hand, made a huffy sound and bonked his head against Wild’s chest in a vaguely reassuring way. ‘Yeah, exactly!’ Wild agreed readily, not entirely sure what he was signing off on, but happy to take the distraction for what it was. ‘Let’s go, then. C’mon, Wolfie.’

Twilight obediently lowered his nose to the ground, quickly locating a second small hole – perhaps another opening to the den? – before trotting off towards the woods. Wild was quick to follow, with Hyrule and Time both trailing after.

It was better not to think about it, Wild decided firmly. Just as he’d told Hyrule the previous night, it was pointless to jump to conclusions with so little information. For all they knew, Legend was completely fine. It didn’t matter that he was missing, or if he was injured or anything like that. He was their adventuring veteran, after all, and for all that they knew, he was completely, utterly, entirely fine. No reason to believe otherwise.

A shudder tore through him and he tugged Time’s cloak closer around himself. Damn this strange place and its strange chill, and damn all those foolish doubts that refused to settle. After all, Wild told himself fiercely: wasn’t there reason enough to think, if anything, that Legend had actually received some form of help?

The other hero wouldn’t have just disappeared on his own; someone must have taken him away. Someone who had taken an interest in his wellbeing. Someone could have snuck up on them easily, and who had the ability to disappear in an instant.

Wild had had an inkling, back there, seeing the short pattern of drag marks that led towards a large puddle. Only an inkling, of course. No proof.

‘Wind said something weird, before,’ Hyrule had said the previous night. ‘He said I was there. He sounded so sure of it.’

Dark Link smiled indulgently at Wild through his memory. ‘I am a perfect copy,’ he had claimed, ‘right down to my very aura.’

No proof of course. Just an inkling.

And for that matter, even if Wild’s baseless suspicion proved correct: what of it? That was good news, wasn’t it? Better that vaguely intimidating tenth Hero of Courage than some random stranger that might not have Legend’s best interests at heart. And it wasn’t as if Dark Link had ever actually hurt Wild, after all. It wasn’t as if he’d even shown any signs of wanting to hurt Wild. It wasn’t as if he’d lied, not as if he’d intentionally made Wild uncomfortable, not as if he’d overstepped Wild’s boundaries or threatened Wild or done anything to earn Wild’s suspicion.

Wild was just… overreacting. As he often did. As he’d overreacted all along, as far as the other heroes were concerned, too. He’d doubted them too, in the beginning, hadn’t he? And wasn’t it still hard to trust them completely? Hadn’t he doubted Twilight too, even just an hour or so ago, back in those ruins?

As far as Dark Link was concerned: Wild couldn’t have even explained to himself where that sense of foreboding came from, so why even mention it to the others?

That would be silly. Wouldn’t it?

‘Wild! Stop!’

Drawn from his reverie by a harsh whisper and a hand on his chest, Wild jolted and and turned questioningly to Hyrule.

‘There’s something up ahead,’ Hyrule explained quietly. He pushed Wild back and cautiously made his way forward, crouched low to the ground.

Wild and Time glanced curiously at each other, but didn’t argue. Silencing their movements as much as they could, they followed after and hid alongside Hyrule in the shadow of a large tree, peering cautiously around the side.

Up ahead, Wild caught a glimpse of something small and pink, half-concealed by the tall grass.

Chapter Text

Silent and tense, Hyrule crouched, padded forwards and carefully peered around the closest tree. A head above his, Wild also peered around the tree. Obligingly rounding out the visual gag, Time peered around the tree, while their lupine companion rudely interrupted their dramaturgical flow by instead poking his snout through an adjacent bush.

Up in the peanut gallery beyond, a tiny, entirely harmless-looking pink creature huddled over something too small for Time to see clearly, fuzzy ears wiggling excitably as it pawed at its prize. If the creature had noticed its distant audience at all, it gave no sign.

Time untensed with his next exhale.

It was just a rabbit. A pink rabbit, which seemed a little odd (weren’t they supposed to be brown or white?), but certainly nothing deserving of Hyrule’s taut posture.

‘What is that thing?’ the hero in question proceeded to whisper. ‘Some kind of pols voice? Is it dangerous?’

Deeply puzzled, Time parroted, ‘Pols voice?’

‘I thought it was a blupee,’ Wild contributed, eyes still fixed on the little creature. He paused, then amended, ‘Except that it’s pink. A pinkee, maybe? Is that a thing?’

‘What’s a blupee?’ Hyrule whispered back.

‘Little spirit creatures, often found near fairy fountains. Shoot them for luck. What’s a pols voice?’

‘Monsters. Yell at them loud enough and they explode.’

‘What?’ asked Time, directing the question at both speakers.

‘Yeah, what?’ said Wild, directing the question solely at Hyrule. ‘Yell at them and they explode? Is that a valid strategy or are your vocals just that bad?’

Hyrule considered, and, with increasing doubt, replied, ‘I was told they had sensitive hearing.’

Sensitive hearing or no… ‘You’re both wrong,’ Time informed them, like the regrettable buzzkill he was. ‘It’s just a rabbit – a kind of animal. Well, I say “just”, but we’re lucky to spot one. In my era at least, they’re extremely rare. So rare, in fact, that it’s illegal to hunt them.’

Malon had helpfully informed him of that matter while surlily setting non-lethal traps for the phantom thief of her prize cabbages – which turned out to be not a rabbit but instead a surprisingly voracious escaped cucco, eventually wrestled into submission by Time’s flame-haired goddess.

Wonderful woman, that one.

‘“Illegal to hunt”?’ Wild mocked, shattering Time’s rose-tinged reverie. ‘Well, that’s just ridiculous. What are they going to do? Arrest me for being a little peckish?’

‘Now see here,’ Time said severely, ‘you might think there’s no harm in killing one individual endangered animal, but if everyone went and did it then they’d be gone in no time. Understand?’

‘Laws don’t stop monsters,’ remarked Hyrule. ‘They’re the ones eating all the best game. Not humans. And most monsters aren’t even edible, so it’s lose-lose.’

Time put his foot down. ‘Wild, we are not eating the rabbit. Hyrule, we are not eating any monsters either.’

Wild pouted. ‘Buzzkill.’

Hyrule’s gave a dispassionate shrug and announced, ‘Meat’s meat. Eat what you’ve got, I guess. But if we’re not eating it and we’re not fighting it then I guess we leave the pols voice thing alone for now.’

He and Time turned away from the rabbit, with Wild grudgingly following after.

Right about then, Twilight gave a loud bark and stepped out of his conveniently placed bush. A few moments too late, Time swivelled around once again, reaching for his protégé’s ruff with a stern cry of, ‘Wolfie, no!’

Several things happened very quickly.

A loud and familiar sounding “FUCK!” emanated from the pink rabbit as it jumped an absurd vertical metre in the air. In the same instant, something tiny shot towards Time’s face with outrageous speed, forcing him to bend backwards to dodge the assault.

Wild readied his bow. Hyrule screamed defensively. It occurred to Time, at that moment, that the voice from before had sounded very familiar indeed.

‘Legend?!’ he ventured dazedly.

Hyrule’s scream cut off with a startled squeak. ‘Legend?!’

‘Roolie?!’ said the rabbit. ‘Is that really…? WAIT, SHIT! HOLD FIRE, HOLD FIRE!’

Time flattened himself to the ground as the tiny black dot made a valiant second attempt at his life, only for it to suddenly calm and fly back to the fluffy pink creature’s side, buzzing menacingly near his head. ‘Ok, it’s fine, I’m fine, thank you, you can go now, good work,’ Legend chanted hurriedly. The insect circled him a few more times (affectionately, perhaps?) and then flew off, seemingly appeased. Legend watched briefly, then turned and bounded over in a strange back-and-forth rocking motion.

‘Time?’ he said faintly. ‘Roolie? T-Wolfie? Wild? Shit, it really is you. What the fuck? Is everyone here? Where have you all been, then?’

‘Legend,’ said Wild, ‘why are you a rabbit?’

Legend paused.

Legend looked at each of them in turn, then looked down at his own tiny, adorable paws. ‘Wait a second…’ he began, then went on with increasing vehemence, ‘why aren’t you a rabbit?!’

A beat.

‘What?’ asked Wild, quite reasonably.

‘Why am I the only one who’s a rabbit?!’ Legend raged. ‘Fuck, this is so unfair, what the fuck?! Time I get, but the other two? At least the wolf has the good grace to be a fucking wolf, even if – oh. Uh.’ He sank back guiltily. ‘I… I mean: good thinking on Twilight to send Wolfie with you. That’s… that’s what happened, right?’

There was another brief silence. Wolfie’s tail – socially, if not legally or physically, distinct from Twilight’s tail – lowered minutely as Wild gave both him and Legend a brief judgemental glance before replying, ‘Yeah, something like that.’

The wolf’s ears twitched and he barked loudly.

‘And of course, I wouldn’t actually wish rabbitisation on anyone,’ Legend added quickly. ‘Especially not you two – I mean, it’d be kinda funny if it happened to Twilight, but –’

Twilight (or, rather: Wolfie) barked again, even louder.

‘It was a joke,’ snapped Legend. ‘Pardon me for wanting to not be the only rodent, I just – huh? What do you mean “can they understand you?” Obviously, yeah. How come you never bothered talking before now?’

There was a brief pause.

‘You can understand Wolfie?’ Time said eventually.

‘Yeah. So?’ asked Legend.

‘So… he’s a wolf,’ Wild pointed out slowly. Eyes skating away in a brief, contemplative pause, he appended, ‘And you’re a rabbit. A talking rabbit. Do rabbits normally talk?’

‘No,’ said Time, at the same moment that Legend replied, ‘Yes.’

They looked at each other.

‘I mean, they’re not supposed to be able to talk, are they?’ Time said uncertainly. Malon would surely have mentioned that detail, wouldn’t she?

Wolfie barked.

‘Look, I don’t know what to tell you about that,’ Legend said irritably. ‘Sometimes animals talk, and sometimes they don’t. Labrynna was full of talking animals, including a bunch of rabbits. There were a few in Holodrum too, and a whole village in – nope, we’re not going there today – and even Hytopia had talking cats, ’cept they were snobs unless you wore the right outfit. Well, to be fair, that was most of Hytopia, and most cats, really. Point is: don’t question it.’

‘I’m questioning it,’ said Time.

‘I’m questioning it,’ said Wild.

‘I’m… also questioning it,’ Hyrule said thoughtfully. ‘I mean, I already knew you could talk to animals, but –’

‘What?’ said Time.

‘What?’ said Wild.

‘Woof!’ said Wolfie.

‘– But that still doesn’t explain why you’re a rabbit,’ Hyrule concluded.

And that, Time realised, was actually a rather good point. Belatedly, he asked again, ‘Why are you a rabbit, Legend?’

‘Fuck, why is anyone a rabbit, let alone me?!’ Legend lamented. ‘Absolute bottom tier transformation. Could’ve been a bear, could’ve been a cat, even the fucking mermaid suit was better than –’

‘Legend,’ Time cut in firmly. ‘What happened to you?’ Suddenly anxious, he reached gingerly for Legend’s tiny, fluffy head, comforting himself with the solid and warm – if diminished – presence of the other hero. ‘No. First things first,’ he went on seriously, ‘are you hurt? Wind and Warriors said you’d been injured yesterday.’

Hyrule jolted and guiltily reached for Legend with a glowing hand, fingers halting midway before determinedly pressing up against soft, pink fur.

‘Hey, no need for that,’ Legend protested. ‘I’m fine. Already had a potion. Probably two, actually; I woke up with the taste in my mouth. Story of my fucking life, eh?’

Hyrule’s lips twisted unhappily. He gingerly tilted the hem of Legend’s tiny, transformed tunic upwards (and yes, on reflection, that should possibly have been the first sign that they were not dealing with a wild animal). His frown deepened. ‘You’ve got some scratches here,’ he announced, ‘but I can’t tell how bad they are. I don’t think my magic will work on you while you’re like this. Can you change back?’

‘Don’t you think I would’ve if I could’ve by now?’ Legend huffed back. ‘Speaking of: don’t suppose you lot have managed to find a way out of here yet? Or – actually, better idea: don’t suppose you brought my things with you? My pouches? I think I dropped them last night – did anyone pick them up?’

‘Oh,’ said Hyrule, deflating a little. ‘About that. I’ve got your sword, but your other items are with Sky for safekeeping. I’m sorry, I just… didn’t want to risk losing or damaging them. Plus your pouches and some of your items were already wet and muddy from yesterday, and Four said we should dry them out properly to keep them in good condition, so… umm… I’m sorry.’

Legend’s ears flicked rapidly as he hopped right into Hyrule’s lap – completely missing the way his successor’s eyes lit up with surprise and delight – and quickly replied, ‘Hey, it’s fine! We’ll make do. And Four’s right: water damage is no joke. You did good, ok? Cheer up. A-anyway. Bring me up to speed, would you? What happened with the captain and the kid? I think I passed out for a bit; I have no idea how I ended up here, let alone what happened back there, where you’ve all been or where the others are. Is everyone ok? Anyone hurt?’

‘Oh. Right,’ Hyrule said distractedly. He trailed his fingers oh-so-lightly through Legend’s cloud-like fur as he continued, ‘Wind and Warriors did get hurt, but they’ll be ok. I already healed what I could; they just need to rest. Other than that: Four’s sick, and Sky stayed behind to look after them. Twi’s fine, probably.’

Time sent a guilty glance at the wolf in the fold, who thankfully gave no reaction to the subtle dismissal – possibly because he was preoccupied with being a rather large predator animal staring predatorially at a rather small prey animal.

Hmm.

Well, it was probably fine.

‘So, what happened?’ Legend demanded. ‘How did we all end up here? And what is this place, anyway? Is this farm boy’s version of the Dark World, or did we switch while I was unconscious? I didn’t think Twi had a version of the Dark World.’

The hero in question barked in response.

‘Twilight Realm?’ Legend repeated (Time assumed). ‘The fuck is…? Wait, is that what you were going on about last night? Then why does it feel exactly like the Dark World of my era?’

Ears flattening, Twilight barked again.

‘Yeah, well you never asked!’ retorted Legend, and Time resigned himself to only understanding half of the conversation. ‘All I’m saying is that I know Ganon’s magic when I sense it, and like hell could this be anything else!’

Time tensed. ‘What do you mean?’

‘What do you all mean?’ Legend returned. ‘Like I said: I just woke up here, and I’m clearly missing a lot of context. If you give your side of things, I’ll give mine. For what that’s worth, which really isn’t much if I’m honest.’

Time eyed him disapprovingly for a moment, then shrugged in defeat and responded wearily, ‘Fine. If I tell you what we’ve been up to, will you at least explain the rabbit thing?’

‘Deal,’ replied the as-yet-inexplicable rabbit.

‘Fine,’ said Time, giving in once again to the urge to stroke those long, floppy ears (and ignoring the territorial twitch of Hyrule’s own hand). ‘Then let’s start with yesterday evening.’

Legend had missed a lot, it turned out. From meetings with the Hero of Time’s immortal forest child family (and gods, why did Legend have to miss that) to journeys through mysterious ancient ruins (fine: been there, done that), to strange discoveries about the parallel universe nature of the aforementioned immortal forest child (intriguing), to sudden plunges into mysterious shadowy alternate dimensions (if Legend had a rupee for every time that happened).

‘To summarise,’ he announced dryly, ‘a shitshow.’

Time made a face. ‘Thank you, Legend. Any other contributions?’

‘Several, now that you mention it,’ Legend offered, ‘but before then: I have a question. Something I’ve been wondering for a while now, actually.’

‘And that is?’ prompted Time.

Legend took as deep a breath as his diminished lungs allowed and loudly expelled, ‘Why are you all petting me?!’

‘Oh,’ said Time.

‘Oh,’ said Hyrule.

‘Oh,’ said Wild.

‘Oh,’ woofed Twilight.

Right on cue, three hands and one paw made a hasty retreat. There was a brief pause as each hero surveyed their respective limb with undue amazement.

‘Well,’ Time explained sheepishly, ‘touch is really reassuring for me, so having finally found you it was somewhat instinctive to… that is… I meant to stop eventually. Truly.’

‘I was checking if you had any injuries, and then I got stuck,’ Hyrule said guiltily. ‘It’s just that… you’re really fluffy right now, and…’

‘Your fur looked really soft and nice to touch and I have poor impulse control so I touched it and I was right, it is soft and nice to touch,’ Wild blurted.

‘Peer pressure,’ stated Twilight, as if he hadn’t been eyeing Legend’s fur avariciously from the very beginning.

Legend narrowed his eyes and hissed back, ‘Do you know how disconcerting it is to be petted by a predator? Not to mention you don’t even have hands; that is your sweaty, muddy foot! Gross!’

‘Yeah, Wolfie,’ accused Hyrule, unthinkingly resuming the (surprisingly pleasant) stroking of Legend’s ridiculous pink fur.

‘Seriously. Why are you doing that?!’ griped Legend.

Hyrule paused. ‘Do you… not want me to pet you?’

His ears drooped. His expression turned sad.

Legend wilted.

‘You can pet me,’ Legend’s traitor mouth announced.

Hyrule lit up. The petting recommenced.

Fuck.

‘My one weakness. Mercilessly exploited,’ cursed Legend. Never even mind that it felt sort of nice; it was demeaning.

(But Hyrule looked so happy.)

‘Can I pet you too?’ Wild asked eagerly.

‘Yes,’ Legend heard himself reply. He regained his senses in time to shout, ‘Shit! My other weakness!’

Time reached out hopefully. ‘Then –?’

‘I have teeth. I will bite,’ spat Legend.

Time slouched back with an immature pout and a mutter of “favouritism”, while Wolfie continued to throw ineffective puppy-dog-eyes in Legend’s direction. Tough shit: occasional exceptions aside, Legend’s cold, shrivelled heart was totally immune to such tactics.

‘Well, anyway,’ he went on, choosing to ignore the ongoing petting of his person. ‘Let’s talk about where we are, and where to go from here.’

‘So soft. It’s like dandelion fluff,’ Hyrule said reverently.

‘F-focus, Roolie,’ sputtered Legend. He cleared his throat and went on, ‘The last time I transformed like this was during my first quest. If you enter the Dark World without some sort of protection against dark magic, you end up being changed against your will. When I woke up here and transformed again, I assumed I’d somehow ended up back there. But the mutt had a different theory.’

‘Must you call me that?’ Twilight complained aloud.

Legend bristled. Pardon him for trying to keep pointless, unnecessary secrets that probably weren’t all that secret at all (and poor Wild, presumably still in the dark, for all that Hyrule had figured it out himself and that Time had presumably been told from the start). ‘What? What do you want me to call you?’ he challenged.

Twilight caught the hint and deflated. ‘Fine. Just tell them what I told you, then.’

Obligingly, Legend explained, ‘So, as Twilight and Four were explaining the other night: the Ganon of this era – or Ganondorf, rather – was supposed to be executed long ago, but instead he ended up being sealed away in a place called the Twilight Realm – a place suffused with ambient dark magic, and therefore, I would think, not a good place to toss a powerful evil sorcerer. Point is: not only did he manage to escape in the end, but Ganon also managed to corrupt at least some of that magic and claim it for himself.

‘Ganon supposedly died at the end of Twilight’s quest, and the Twilight Realm was also supposedly closed off. But then we get to Four’s third quest, where he hopped in and out of an alternate dimension known colloquially as the Dark World – or known to the Royal Family as the Twilight Realm – and where a Gerudo man named Ganondorf was once again attempting to take over Hyrule.’

The fingers running through Legend’s fur slowed, and he looked up to see Hyrule staring thoughtfully off into the midground as if a sudden realisation had struck. Before Legend could enquire further, Time surmised, ‘So this is the Twilight Realm, then?’

‘The wolf says “maybe”,’ Legend replied ruefully. ‘Either we’re in a separate world, or enough of that magic has seeped out that it’s affected our surroundings. He isn’t sure which.’

Time considered, then said bleakly, ‘I can’t sense the magic of the Lost Woods at all. This place looks so familiar, but it feels… dead. Not to mention…’ He paused, eye closing in concentration, then explained, ‘I cast some magic before we left Twilight’s house this morning. If we were still in that world, I’d be able to sense it, and I could teleport us all back.’

Legend perked up. ‘You have teleportation magic? And it works with multiple people at once? With a group this size? No way! Seriously?’

‘Well, it’s not working with any number of people right now,’ Time replied – in Legend’s measured opinion, drastically downplaying the sheer badassery of his ability.

Never mind. ‘Well, before you all showed up, I did have a bit of a plan,’ Legend offered. He jerked his head off towards the deeper woods. ‘I can sense a more powerful source of dark magic in that direction. Could be dangerous, but it also could be a clue. Only problem is: I’m kind of stuck like this right now, and I’m not going to be much use in a fight – short of catching a replacement bee.’ Ah, Barnabee: encountered so suddenly, gone so soon. ‘Unless any of you have a spare moon pearl?’

‘Moon pearl?’ Time repeated, sounding startled. He reached for the chain around his neck and started to lift it over his head.

Legend flinched and rushed forward, swiping a paw at Time’s armoured knee (ouch; bad idea). ‘I said spare moon pearl,’ he snarled. ‘If that’s the only one you’ve got, I don’t want it, alright?! We had a deal, old man. Don’t you forget it.’

Time lowered his hands, pausing to inspect the warmly glowing gem that had emerged from his cuirass. Expression turning reproachful he replied, ‘You said you didn’t need this, Legend. That it was little more than a keepsake to you.’

‘And it was. Been a long time since my first quest, you know,’ Legend shot back. ‘Doesn’t matter. No takebacksies.’

Hyrule looked from Legend to Time with increasing unhappiness. ‘Is that – is that Legend’s moon pearl?’

‘It’s his now, and I reiterate: no takebacksies,’ Legend announced. ‘I can deal with being a rabbit for a bit. It’s fine.’ Ok, it kind of sucked, but that was beside the point.

‘Does that little stone help you not be a rabbit?’ Wild asked abruptly. Legend belatedly realised the other hero had been quiet for a while. His face was pale and his eyes intent as he explained, ‘I don’t have anything like that.’

‘Me neither,’ Hyrule said bleakly. ‘Moon pearls were supposed to be fairly rare.’

Legend considered. ‘Maybe you have something similar, then?’ he suggested. ‘Assuming the magic works in the same way as my own era’s Dark World, everything living that isn’t created through dark magic takes on a shape here that reflects its true nature – that’s the theory, anyway,’ he amended hastily, grimacing a little at the thought. ‘You need strong light magic to offset that. Either a moon pearl, or something like one.’

Twilight piped up, ‘I don’t know about Wild, but in Hyrule’s case, it’s probably the Master Sword. That’s what lifted the curse for me.’

‘The Master Sword?’ Legend repeated dubiously. ‘It never had that sort of power in my time.’

Twilight lapsed into thoughtful silence, but Hyrule perked up. ‘The Master Sword? Oh, that’s right! It was supposed to have divine power too, wasn’t it? In fact, didn’t Fado say she was going to strengthen it? How about if I –?’

‘Hey, stop!’ Legend cried a few moments too late, as Hyrule clumsily unsheathed the weapon with his non-dominant hand and pressed the flat of the blade against Legend’s side.

For a moment, it was nice: warmth spread throughout Legend’s tiny body, banishing the persistent cold of their surroundings. His bones and organs gratefully shifted back into their natural shape, size and positions, the battered, exhausted magic that ran through Legend’s veins all but singing with relief.

Then Legend’s head smacked against Wild’s, still leaning over him. Wild cursed and fell backwards. Unbalanced, Legend quickly followed, and Hyrule hastily withdrew the deadly edge of the Master Sword.

Agony scorched through Legend once again, and even as he bit down hard on his lip, a hoarse yell broke through his defences. Helpless to stop the transformation from claiming him once again, he tumbled to the ground and lay there in wretched rabbit form, fighting against the furious pace of his heart and lungs and the myriad of expletives he wished he could throw at his entire situation. He couldn’t be sure of the number of seconds or minutes that comprised his recovery, but it took far too long for Legend to notice Time leaning over him, frantically calling his name. He shook his head blearily and clambered back to his feet with Time’s assistance.

‘Phew,’ he said shakily. ‘Well. Consider that question answered, I guess: seems like the new and improved Master Sword has some pretty useful features.’ Glancing over with sudden realisation, Legend was relieved to find that the sword had fallen back against Hyrule’s lap, apparently still close enough to function as a protective charm.

‘As long as you hold onto that, you shouldn’t have to worry about transforming,’ Legend informed him, voice more-or-less steady once again. ‘You can give it back to me once we’re out of here, alright?’

Hyrule gave him a scandalised look. ‘What are you talking about? It’s your sword, not mine. Anyway, I need you to at least change back so I can check you over. You literally just passed out; there’s no way you aren’t hurt.’

‘I’m not hurt, and I didn’t pass out!’ Legend protested. It wasn’t even a lie. ‘Anyway – you can’t exactly check me over if you turn into a rabbit or whatever.’

Hyrule tilted his chin stubbornly and replied, ‘If I put the sword on the ground and we both maintain contact that should be fine, right?’

Legend spared almost a full second of consideration for that proposal, then concluded flatly, ‘Yeah, no. Even if that worked, I’d still rather not. Let’s just get moving already.’

‘You could take your moon pearl back?’ Time suggested hopefully. At Legend’s irritated glance, Time clarified, ‘Even if it’s just for a few minutes. You say you’re fine, but you looked like you were in a lot of pain just now, and –’

He cut off, eye widening in realisation. ‘Oh.’ His gaze flickered away to the wolf watching silently from nearby, then back to Legend. ‘Does… does the transformation hurt you?’

Hyrule jolted. ‘What?!’

‘Uhh… yeah,’ Legend conceded reluctantly. He supposed Hyrule was owed a little honesty. ‘Yeah, it’s pretty bad. I mean, it’s dark magic, after all. I know your fairy form doesn’t hurt at all, Roolie, but that’s ’cause you’re the one controlling it. With dark magic like this, the more you fight it the more it hurts. It’d make sense to relax and let it happen, I guess, but it’s hard not to panic. For me, at least. I mean, it’s probably possible to get used to that sort of thing, but I never did.’

‘I couldn’t either,’ Time said quietly. He glanced back at Twilight, twining his fingers in coarse lupine fur as he explained, ‘It got better for me eventually, but it was always unpleasant. Helpful as that sort of magic can be at times.’

‘Nothing helpful about being a fucking rabbit,’ Legend griped. ‘But more importantly: when was this? Which sage? Or was it during the Ganon fight? I don’t remember reading anything about that.’

Belatedly, he realised that he had, quite possibly, asked a very insensitive question. Damn his damned curiosity.

Seemingly unruffled, Time offhandedly replied, ‘Second quest.’

What.

Legend stared at him. ‘Second… second quest?!’

The hidden beast of a fanboy within him stirred from its slumber. Voice rising, he responded, ‘Holy shit; I have so many questions. You better buckle up, old man.’

‘Maybe later,’ Time diverted.

‘Fuck no! I’m asking them now! You can’t just drop something like that on me and expect me to –’

‘How much does it hurt?’ Hyrule asked abruptly.

Legend gave a guilty twitch, tugged viciously from the beginnings of a new hyperfixation. ‘The transformation thing? Uh… you know. A lot?’ Hyrule seemed less than satisfied with the vague response, so Legend continued, ‘What was that pain scale thing again? Zero is no pain, ten is where there’s so much pain that it makes you pass out? Transforming like that would be…’ He considered for a moment, weighing up past experiences, and concluded, ‘Maybe a fifteen or sixteen? No: seventeen, maybe?’

Hyrule’s poker face twitched. ‘What?’

Legend shrugged as best his animal form allowed. ‘Well, I don’t really know how the scale is supposed to work, of course. Passing out from pain isn’t so bad, but there’s a point where you’re in too much pain to pass out, right? What did that scale of yours go up to again? Was it out of twenty? Fifty? A hundred?’

‘Umm… no,’ Hyrule responded quietly. ‘It’s… it’s out of ten.’

‘Oh.’ Legend sheepishly reconsidered. ‘In that case, I guess it’d be an eight or nine? Dunno what ten on that scale looks like, but forced transformation isn’t fun. Probably somewhere on the higher end of that scale, if we put life-threatening stab wounds at about five and direct lightning hits at eight or so.’

‘I think we need a new pain scale for you,’ Hyrule said faintly.

That seemed like a bit of an overreaction, so Legend shrugged again and continued, ‘Anyway. Like I said: I’m not hurt, so you don’t need to worry about healing me. I only collapsed like that because of the pain. But I’m not risking anything like that happening to you, and I’d also prefer to avoid switching back and forth as much as possible. Make sense?’

Hyrule gave a miserable little nod, and Legend’s tiny, weak rabbit heart twinged. ‘C’mon, don’t look at me like that,’ he pleaded. ‘Like I told you: I’m fine now. See for yourself.’ He hopped back over to Hyrule’s lap – carefully avoiding the Master Sword – and rubbed his head against Hyrule’s chest in what he hoped constituted a reasonable alternative to a hug. Poor kid really looked like he needed one.

Hyrule reached out tentatively, paused for a moment, then lifted Legend up and held him cheek to cheek, gently stroking his fur. Legend nuzzled close, heart breaking all over again at the way Hyrule’s hands trembled and breathing hitched.

‘You can hold me a little tighter than that, you know,’ Legend grumbled after several seconds of being handled like an extortionate, limited edition soap bubble. ‘I won’t break or anything.’

Hyrule hesitated. ‘Are… are you sure?’ he asked tentatively.

What kind of question was that? ‘Fucking hug me already, dumbass,’ he commanded, and Hyrule was almost too quick to comply. He gave a soft sigh of contentment, trembles finally subsiding altogether.

It was a nice moment.

Until the moment continued to stretch on. For several more moments. And then several more.

‘Uhh… Hyrule?’ Legend said awkwardly. ‘You… you can let me down now, you know?’

Hyrule let out a gasp and wrenched Legend away from his chest, suspended by the hands around his middle while his back legs dangled uselessly below.

‘Oh,’ breathed Hyrule. ‘Oh, that was dangerous. I almost got stuck.’

A few more moments passed.

‘What?’ said Legend.

‘W-well, it’s just,’ Hyrule stammered. ‘I mean, you’ve always been a really comforting and calming presence for me, but when you’re like this, I uh… I actually think you might be a bit too powerful.’

‘What,’ said Legend.

‘Just. The stories didn’t prepare me for this at all,’ Hyrule suddenly wailed. ‘I mean, I knew about the Dark World and all that, but you weren’t supposed to be a rabbit. It makes sense, I guess: your Dark World form is supposed to reflect your heart. I’ve never met a rabbit before this, but Time said they were really rare. Legendary, even. Seeing one is supposed to be really lucky, right? Right?! So it makes sense, I just wasn’t prepared! I wasn’t prepared at all!’

‘O-oh,’ said Legend, shrivelling just a little inside. ‘Huh… yeah. I – I guess stories get exaggerated a bit, don’t they? What was I supposed to turn into, then?’ Something cool, maybe? Something less embarrassing than a rabbit, at least?

‘I don’t know – something called a bunny?’ Hyrule responded frantically.

Oh.

Somehow, that was worse.

‘Uhh,’ Legend vocalised.

From somewhere behind Legend’s viewpoint, Time made an odd, stifled sound, then cleared his throat. ‘Actually, Hyrule,’ he began ominously, ‘“bunny” is just another word for “rabbit”. Though in Legend’s case, I think a better term would be –’

‘Old man,’ Legend warned.

‘Bun bun,’ Time stated mercilessly.

‘Time!’ yelled Legend.

‘Bun bun,’ breathed Hyrule, eyes glistening. ‘Oh, you’re a bun bun. You’re a tiny, precious lil bun bun.’

‘Time, why would you do this?’ Legend asked rhetorically.

With Kokiri-typical honesty, Time replied, ‘Spite. And personal amusement.’

‘You’re round,’ Hyrule marvelled. ‘You’re shaped like a little loaf of bread. Is that why they’re called bun buns?’

‘Old man, you piece of shit!’ yelled Legend.

‘Hey, Legend,’ Hyrule cut in intently. ‘This is important. I don’t know if you’ve realised yet, but you are very small right now.’

‘I…’ Legend sighed. ‘Yes, I have noticed that, Hyrule. Unfortunately.’

‘Ok, but I don’t think you have!’ Hyrule yelled right back. ‘You’re taking this so casually! See, the amount of small you are right now? It’s a lot, you know! I mean, it’s not much at all! You are really small! And really, really fluffy!’

‘It’s true, you know,’ Twilight woofed in unhelpful agreement. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything, but I was definitely thinking it.’

‘Fuck you, mutt, no one asked for your opinion,’ snarled Legend.

‘Small! Puny!’ Hyrule continued to rage.

Legend’s ears flicked back. ‘I’m – I’m not that small. I mean, sure: by Hylian standards, I’m not huge right now. But compared to other rabbits, I’m enormous.’

‘That is absolutely not true,’ said Twilight. 

‘Tiny,’ Hyrule said intently. ‘Absolutely miniscule. Pocket-sized.’

‘Bite-sized?’ Wild contributed.

‘What?!’ yelped Legend.

‘Yes! Exactly!’ Hyrule said emphatically. ‘Bite-sized! I could just gobble you up and swallow you in a single mouthful! You! Are jusht! Sho shmol!’

‘Are you – are you actually baby-talking me right now?!’ Legend sputtered. ‘Sh-show some fucking respect for your elders! Sure, I may not look all that impressive right now, but I’m still your damn predecessor, I’m still –’

‘Nineteen years old,’ Time reminded him.

‘He’s only sixteen!’

‘You’re only nineteen,’ the thirty-something-year-old concluded.

Legend bristled. Bullying on every angle today, it seemed. ‘Fine. Laugh all you want,’ he forced out. ‘I get it: I’m a stupid fucking rabbit. A “bun bun” if you will. Sorry I can’t even live up to my own legend, let alone my predecessor’s. Must be disappointing.’

Time’s voice sharpened. ‘Now hold on a moment, vet –’

Hyrule drew Legend up to eye level and stared intently at his much smaller face. ‘“Disappointing”?! Which part of this is disappointing?’ he decried. ‘Do you have any idea how happy I am right now?! I mean, am I even allowed to be this happy? This is… this is ridiculous. I still respect you and I still look up to you, and I’m sorry if this comes off any other way. Just. You’re so precious. Hngh.’ He drew Legend back into his arms like a deeply aggrieved stuffed animal and snuggled contentedly, practically purring with satisfaction.

Legend sighed. ‘What is even happening right now?’

Helpfully, Time explained, ‘Remember how you cried when Hyrule turned into a fairy for the first time? It’s like that.’

‘I didn’t cry,’ Legend said immediately.

‘You did cry,’ said Twilight.

‘You cried a lot,’ said Hyrule. ‘An outrageous amount. A medically improbable amount. I thought you were dying for a moment. I thought maybe your brain liquefied and started seeping out through your tear ducts or something. That’s how much you cried.’

‘I – it wasn’t that much?!’ Legend pleaded. ‘I mean, maybe – maybe a few tears here and there, but… well, what are you supposed to do in that situation but cry? It’s different for me – I’m the predecessor, you’re the kid from the future. The fantastic, clever, wonderful little hero kid, who looks up to his rotten past self for some reason. What do you even do when that kid goes from being this cute, starry-eyed Hylian to being a teeny, tiny fairy in a pink dress, with little feathery antennae and a dandelion poof wand and little sparkly wings? Yeah, so maybe I cried a bit, but what of it? I mean: shit’s cute, right? I’m not weird for thinking that. You’d have to be pretty fucked up to not think that. We all love Hyrule, right? Right?!’

‘I do love Hyrule,’ Time obliged.

‘I also love Hyrule,’ echoed Wild. Twilight barked his assent.

‘We all love Hyrule!’ Legend railed. ‘I mean, imagine being the kind of person who looks at a sweet kid like Hyrule and doesn’t immediately think, “wow, if anything ever happened to you I’d destroy the whole world and everything living in it including myself”. Imagine being someone as joyless and soulless as that. Couldn’t fucking be me. Am I right?’

‘Sure,’ said Wild, easily enough. ‘Hmm,’ said Time. Twilight said nothing.

‘Then I hope you understand my predicament right now,’ Hyrule said sweetly. ‘See, my wonderful, amazing predecessor is very small right now. And right now I’m hugging him and I don’t want to move. Like, ever again. I think I’m stuck. This is my life now. This is your life now, Legend. Sorry. Can’t help it.’

Uh oh. ‘S-stay strong, Hyrule,’ Legend begged.

‘You told me I didn’t need to be strong!’ his successor wailed right back.

‘That – don’t take my words out of context!’ Legend sputtered. ‘A-anyway. You’re gonna have to put me down at some point. I mean, what if we get attacked? There are a bunch of monsters around here, you know?’

‘It’s ok; I’ll just hold you close to my chest as I rain fire on our enemies from afar,’ Hyrule answered promptly and unreasonably. ‘I can definitely do it. I feel powerful right now.’

‘I really think you haven’t thought this through,’ Legend responded.

‘No, let’s do it; let’s fight! I wanna fight!’ yelled Hyrule. ‘Where’s something I can fight? Do you think Ganon wants a rematch? Let’s go kill Ganon! Hell, let’s go punch each and every god that might ever have wronged any of us in the face! I’ll take point; you just sit there and stay fluffy.’

Wild’s face emerged in the corner of Legend’s view. He crouched and peered up at Hyrule, nodding sagely. ‘Ah, yes. I thought so.’

‘…What?’ asked Legend, for perhaps the tenth time in as many minutes.

Wild pointed at Hyrule’s face. ‘His brain seems to have liquified. I can see it seeping out through his tear ducts. Unfortunate, that.’

‘Wha– why are you crying, Hyrule?!’ yelped Legend.

‘I’m… I’m sorry,’ wept Hyrule. ‘I know this all probably sucks for you right now, and I’m sorry but… but you’re just so small. So precious. Sho fwuffy. I wuv you.’ He made an indistinct wet noise and nuzzled his face against Legend’s side.

And if there was one good thing about that silly pink fur, it was surely the fact that no one could possibly see the way Legend’s face heated up at those words. With that being the case, Legend was surely at least a little believable when he half-heartedly muttered, ‘This is the absolute worst day of my life.’

‘This is the best day ever,’ sobbed Hyrule.

Chapter Text

‘I am perfectly fine to walk on my own!’ snapped Legend.

‘You’re injured,’ insisted Hyrule, ‘and since I can’t actually check how bad it really is while you’re like this, you can – you can shut up and let me have this, damn it!’

‘I told you: I’m fine!’

‘And – and anyway. You must be tired, right?! You said you’ve been running around since yesterday evening, and your legs are just really tiny right now. That can’t be good for them, right? Right?! Besides, it’s not like I’m actually opposed to carrying you or a-anything. That is, if I had to say one way or another, I’m actually quite – quite partial to –’

‘Damn it, Hyrule, I’m not your fucking pet!’

Twilight weighed up the continued bickering, but eventually decided not to intervene. For all that Legend’s bark was significantly worse than his bite – and damn, if that adorable little form didn’t just prove it – Twilight trusted him to put his foot down if he really needed to. Not to mention the fact that Time was already supervising the situation, albeit with far too much amusement on his face.

Instead, Twilight turned his gaze back on Wild, giving his companion a slight nudge and a whiny huff for attention.

Wild startled. ‘Oh. Uh. What? Sorry, what, umm, what did I miss?’

Even with both his own cloak and the one loaned from Time wrapped tightly around his thin shoulders, Wild was still shivering visibly, eyes wide and dazed in his pale face. He walked with shuffling steps, shoulders slouched and face tilted down, and Twilight’s big brother instincts were blaring at him.

Testing Legend’s previous theory that achieving human speech was merely a matter of mindset, he responded, ‘You look terrible, cub. What’s wrong?’

Wild gave him a bemused look. ‘You want pets too?’ he guessed, reaching out to scratch behind Twilight’s ears.

Twilight infused as much exasperation as he could muster into his expression.

‘Well, it’s not like I can pick you up,’ Wild protested (and there Twilight had been, thinking their newest hero was actually quite good at reading people). ‘I mean, I could try, but you look pretty heavy.’

‘Hmm? What’s that?’ asked Time, turning his gaze their way.

Wild shrugged and queried, ‘Do you think I could pick Wolfie up?’

‘Hmm,’ Time mused once again. With that as the only warning, Twilight’s mentor stepped close, reached out and then hauled Twilight up against his chest in a cradle hold.

Twilight went still, blinking several times as he attempted to make sense of the situation. Several blinks later, he regretfully concluded: nope. The situation made no sense.

None whatsoever.

‘He’s just a big puppy,’ Twilight’s mentor, predecessor and secondary father-figure asserted boldly as he continued to walk at Wild’s side with said exceptionally large, fully-grown monster-mangling puppy cradled in his arms.

‘Eat shit, Fido,’ snickered Legend when Hyrule turned to see what the fuss was all about.

‘Yeah, real sweet, Sugar Bun,’ Twilight deadpanned, though he couldn’t protest too much considering the way Wild relaxed in response, slight smile growing as a grinning Time held the wolf out for him to pet. For his own part, Twilight endured the proceedings with admirable patience, even turning his head grudgingly to rub a furry cheek against Wild’s cold hand.

To be fair, after all: if Twilight ever met a giant wolf that wasn’t trying to kill him, he would be petting so hard. He would be petting the crap out of that thing. He would be squishing its toe beans and booping its snoot and playing with its ears, and –

‘Ham it up, why don’t you?’ Legend said, staring disgustedly at Twilight’s furiously wagging tail.

And right there, really, in adorable fuzzy pink rabbit form, was the greatest tragedy of them all: ‘I wish I had hands to pet you with,’ Twilight moaned aloud. ‘Why couldn’t I be a wolf with hands?’

Legend paused to consider. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘I do not like that image.’

‘What image?’ asked Hyrule.

‘Wolfie with human hands.’

‘Two hands, or four?’ Wild piped up curiously. ‘And is he digitigrade or plantigrade in this scenario?’

‘…Huh?’

‘I mean, does he move around on his palms or his fingers? Asking for science reasons.’

‘What kind of fucked up science is this?’ Legend asked dubiously.

‘Well, more for scientific curiosity than actual sciencing purposes,’ Wild clarified.

‘Oh, good,’ Hyrule said with an inexplicable level of relief.

‘…Huh?’ Legend said once again.

Unconcerned, Wild continued, ‘Just, y’know, I’m not saying that giving Wolfie hands is a good idea or anything, but anatomically, fingers are basically just longer toes, and the way wolf feet work is that the toes are like –’ Wild made a claw-like gesture ‘– and the palms are like –’ Wild flicked his wrist in the opposite direction ‘– so I think a wolf with human hands would be kind of like –’ Wild pulled his fingers back in a violent, two-handed bending gesture. ‘Just like with horse legs, you know?’

‘Horses do not have hands on their legs,’ Time pointed out, mildly perturbed.

‘Sure, but supposing they did, all I’m saying is that it would be like –’ Wild gave a few odd twists of his arm, wrist and fingers by way of explanation.

Twilight took a moment to inspect his paws, picture a horse, and then muse over a man-to-wolf transformation sequence that he’d perhaps grown a little desensitised to over the course of many, many such transformations. ‘He’s not wrong,’ he conceded eventually.

‘What the fuck,’ said Legend.

Wild gave a cheeky grin and started to reply, only to cut off abruptly as he glanced back at Twilight. He turned his face away and reached up to tug his hood a few centimetres lower. ‘Well. Just saying. Scientifically, that is,’ he muttered with a final furtive look in Twilight’s direction. He cleared his throat with a slight cough, and in a more normal tone, went on, ‘Hey, but speaking of which: what kind of fucked-up science are they doing in your era, Roolie?’

‘H-huh?! My era?’

‘Yeah, that’s what I wanna know!’ Legend agreed emphatically. ‘What was with that weird reaction earlier?!’

As Hyrule gave a stammering, unconvincing explanation of the various agricultural technologies that could be used to breathe life back into dead soil – gaining confidence and enthusiasm as he immersed himself into his own ramble – Twilight watched Wild’s forced smile slip away, saw him shiver and chafe at his own arms for warmth.

Twilight’s fraternal instincts twinged once again. Something was definitely wrong, he decided, no matter how much Wild may try to hide it.

The younger hero had seemed a little off all day, though things had clearly worsened since their arrival in… in whatever strange place they’d found themselves. Not the Lost Woods anymore, if Time’s words were to be believed – and Twilight could hardly doubt them – but surely not the true Twilight Realm either. More akin to that hideous parody Zant had created, with its dreary presence and draining chill than to the warm, tranquil darkness of his once-companion’s true domain. Midna had once called the twilight “beautiful”; he hadn’t been able to understand it until seeing the real thing.

There was nothing beautiful about their current location. The yellow-grey grass and drooping trees all looked either dead or close to it, and the sky was a murky shade of orange far from the gorgeous eternal sunset over Midna’s palace. Thinking it through, Twilight had to kick himself a little: it wasn’t as if he was entirely unaffected by their environment, but he’d seen firsthand just how much worse it could be for others. He could recall all too well the shivering shoulders and exhausted faces of the children of Ordon Village as they huddled together in the shadows of Renaldo’s house, could recall Ilia, pale-faced and despairing at Telma’s bar, or even Telma herself, shaken and quiet for all her valiant attempt to maintain a sense of normalcy.

Combine that with the fact that Wild had only just joined their group, leaving behind all that was familiar and those he knew and loved. Combine that with their newest hero’s young age – hundred-year nap notwithstanding – and with the many traumas of a recently completed quest –

Wild stumbled suddenly, and both Time and Twilight immediately turned to help, only for the younger hero to quickly right himself with a quick shake of his head towards Time’s outstretched hand. In a tight voice, he responded, ‘I’m fine.’

And that, Twilight decided, was more than enough of that.

‘Legend,’ he called.

A small, pink rabbit poked its head over Hyrule’s shoulder. ‘Yeah?’

‘He won’t admit it, but I think Wild needs a break,’ Twilight confided. ‘Can you make an excuse?’

Legend’s ears flicked to attention, nose twitching furiously as he quickly and none-too-subtly scrutinised their newest member before turning his gaze on Time. ‘Uh – hey, old man,’ he asked obligingly, ‘can we take a break for a bit? Uh…’ Legend paused to consider, then concluded, ‘Wolfie stubbed his toe.’

Each of the others turned their gazes on the wolf in question, still tenderly cradled in Time’s arms and having been carried in that same logically-quite-difficult-to-stub-his-toes position for the last several minutes. Belatedly, Twilight waggled his front paw and gave a high-pitched whine of belated agony.

There was a brief pause.

‘That’s odd,’ Wild said blandly. ‘When exactly did Wolfie stub his toe?’

Legend’s nose twitched tellingly. ‘Just now. Right then,’ he responded. ‘But! Anyway! More importantly!’

‘Fuck, you’re a bad liar,’ commented Twilight.

‘I don’t want to hear that from you, Rover,’ snapped Legend. ‘Uh – anyway. That is. Umm… to be honest, I’d like a break too. ’Specially if one of you brought snacks. I haven’t actually eaten or drunk anything since yesterday evening, you know?’

‘You haven’t?!’ Hyrule asked, appalled.

The suspicion on Wild’s face melted away into a frown.

‘Yeah. Of course I haven’t,’ said Legend. ‘I mean, this is the fucking Dark World, right? Or something like it. You think I’m just gonna go shoving my furry little face into random puddles along the way if I get thirsty? How do I know that shit isn’t contamin–? Whoa!’

‘Well, I suppose that’s settled,’ Time remarked as Hyrule all but fell into a kneeling position, settling Legend on his lap while he rifled furiously through his supplies. The older hero found a patch of clean-ish grass nearby and lowered himself down with a soft groan of exertion. Twilight took the opportunity to shake free and trotted over to nose worriedly at Wild’s chest.

Wild wavered indecisively for a few moments more, then sighed and crouched down. He raised his Sheikah Slate with a quiet snapping sound and muttered, ‘What do rabbits eat, anyway?’

‘I want meat,’ Legend replied immediately. ‘You got like a steak or something?’

‘You’re a herbivore,’ Twilight reminded him.

‘Fuck you, Spot,’ Legend shot back.

‘Pretty sure you’re a herbivore,’ said Wild. He poked at his slate a few times and nodded to himself. ‘Yep. Thought so. See?’ He poked at Legend’s tiny mouth. ‘Cute little herbivore teeth.’

Hyrule gave a wounded gasp, freezing with canteen in one hand and mess tin lid in the other as he uttered mournfully, ‘They really are. They’re so, so cute…’

‘Oh, don’t start tearing up again,’ grumbled Legend. Obligingly, he nibbled away at the small bundle of fresh leafy greens Wild held out before him, losing maybe just a little confidence as all the others gave his chubby rabbit cheeks the wide-eyed stare they deserved. A quick, pleading look had Wild handing a second, larger bundle off to Hyrule (‘You’re making this real weird, Roolie,’ the transformed Hylian remarked, to which Hyrule dauntlessly responded, ‘That wasn’t a “no”.’), while the self-appointed supply officer shifted his gaze towards his next client.

‘What about Wolfie?’ Wild asked dubiously. ‘I mean…’ He hesitated, then turned to Time and asked, ‘Cooked or raw meat? Which one does Twilight normally feed him?’

Twilight winced under the weight of Time’s scrutiny. ‘I haven’t actually seen Twilight feed Wolfie before,’ Time answered truthfully. ‘Maybe try both and see which he prefers?’

Wild nodded, corners of his mouth tugging downwards once again as he produced two hunks of meat and silently laid them out in front of Twilight, pausing and then adding a hunk of ice to cool down the lightly-steaming seared steak. In a similarly downcast fashion, he distributed meals to his Hylian companions and then settled off to one side with some sort of rice and seafood dish of his own.

It was hard to miss how much room he left between himself and the others.

Legend lifted his head, ears and nose twitching, and asked quietly, ‘Hey, farm boy. Did you and Wild get in a fight, or what?’

Twilight startled. ‘What?’

Legend made an odd, churring huff of what Twilight guessed to be frustration. ‘Forgive him, alright?’ Legend suggested. ‘Whatever it was that happened, he looks like he regrets it.’

What a deeply weird read of the situation. ‘He didn’t do anything wrong,’ Twilight argued. ‘We didn’t get in a fight, either.’

‘Well, good,’ Legend informed him loftily. ‘He’s a good kid, you know?’

With a warning growl that came far too easily to his beast form, Twilight’s hackles rose (obviously he knew that, Legend), only to lower again as he paused to actually consider the assumption.

Come to think of it: maybe Wild had been acting a little strangely around him, ever since their conversation in the ruins. Twilight had assumed it was a joke, considering how quickly Wild had brushed it aside, but perhaps he’d been too hasty with that assumption.

He reached his snout forward to gnaw half-heartedly at the cooked steak he’d been allocated (best to pick something that both his forms could stomach, just in case) and mulled over Wild’s words. ‘Say, Legend,’ he eventually asked, ‘do you know what a “hazing ritual” is, by any chance?’

‘A “hazing ritual”?’ Legend repeated loudly. Wild jolted guiltily in the corner of Twilight’s vision, eyes going wide.

In retrospect, perhaps Twilight should have factored their beloved veteran hero’s beloved lack of tact into this scenario.

‘Hazing rituals?’ Time echoed. ‘What about them?’

‘The wolf wanted to know what they are,’ said Legend. ‘Think I’ve heard the phrase before, but I can’t quite recall… is that a military term or something?’

‘It – it’s nothing important,’ Wild cut in quickly, scurrying over from his corner of self-imposed solitude. ‘Just a throwaway comment I made earlier. Which I didn’t actually mean, really, and I shouldn’t have said it. I’ll – umm – I’ll explain it to him later. A-assuming he can understand me, that is – I mean, he’s a wolf and all, so – uhh, I mean, if I knew he was going to understand it, I definitely wouldn’t have said something like –’

‘Damn it, Legend, you and your big fucking mouth,’ Twilight cursed in an agitated growl.

Wild flinched. ‘Uh… is he… is he upset with me?’ he asked hesitantly. ‘Wolfie, I mean? Is that why he’s growling?’

Oops.

‘Oh – uh, no,’ Legend replied quickly. ‘No, definitely not. Right, Wolfie?’

Twilight nodded vigorously, jabbing a paw in Legend’s direction as he promptly forgot all about pretending to be a wolf who didn’t understand Hylian language in the face of being a wolf unable to speak it.

‘Yeah, he’s just pissed off at me for putting you on the spot,’ Legend translated sheepishly. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong. He didn’t even understand what you said back then. What is a hazing ritual, anyway?’

Twilight gave another warning growl – breaking off into a consoling whine when Wild flinched again.

Time’s eye tightened. ‘Hazing rituals are common in military settings, but not unique to them,’ he explained. ‘Typically frowned on in them, too. Grounds for dishonourable discharge, even. It’s a form of bullying where the established members of a group hurt or humiliate each new member as a rite of passage – that is, more for the enjoyment of the “in” group than any amusement for or benefit to the “out” group.’

‘Th-that’s a bit of an overstatement,’ Wild clarified quickly. ‘I mean, hazing can be a lot of things. Sometimes it’s just harmless pranks. Stuff like giving you false information or wrong directions, telling you to wear the wrong clothes for certain events, telling you to keep a secret that isn’t actually a secret, messing around with your gear and –’

He cut off abruptly, freezing in place as his eyes went blank.

‘Wild?!’ Time prompted tersely, shuffling a few steps closer as the silence stretched on. Twilight craned in worriedly.

Wild blinked free from his daze. ‘Uh, that – that is… what was I…?’ He blinked a few more times, clearly disoriented, before continuing, ‘A-as I said, it wasn’t anything big. Just a small misunderstanding on my end. And even if it was some form of hazing ritual… I mean, you’re entitled to it. I – I know I’m a paranoid dumbass sometimes, but I can take a joke. It… it was just, umm…’ He looked down at his lap. ‘It was just bad timing. That’s all. I’m sorry. Sorry, Wolfie.’

‘Was that a flashback just now?’ Twilight asked uneasily, only for the words to come out as the usual incomprehensible canine whingeing. Cursing his inability to speak, he nosed desperately at Wild in his best attempt at canine charades. Light spirits, if only he could –

‘Oh,’ Legend said suddenly. As they all turned in his direction (Twilight with no small amount of irritation), Legend gave a very fake-sounding cough.

‘So. Umm. The thing is,’ he began awkwardly. ‘Wild, you said something before about… “pranks” involving secrets that aren’t actually secrets, and I… may have an idea about what you mean. But…

‘Well. Sometimes what’s obvious to one person isn’t obvious to others… and sometimes it’s obvious to everyone but that person, but it’s still their secret to tell and not yours. And even, like, telling that person that literally everyone else already knows might seem like a nice thing to do, but if it’s a secret they’re really anxious about, that’s maybe… also not great? So just suppose, maybe it feels like you’re being kept out of the loop on a really big, really obvious secret, but it’s… not necessarily about you, y’know? Maybe, just… the person in question has some, uh, difficulty being honest, and maybe they… what was it they say in Rolling Ridge? “Can’t see the range for the peaks”?’

There was a brief stretch of silence as Legend’s words sank in. Wild’s tense posture relaxed visibly, fear melting away into just a touch of confusion, while Time looked on with a warm smile.

Come to think of it, Twilight conceded: Legend could actually be pretty smart, and pretty good at emotions at times, couldn’t he? Sure, he had maybe made a few rather bold assumptions about the obviousness of his secret (as far as Twilight knew, none of the others beside Legend had worked it out for themself yet, and Wild had only found out through Twilight’s own carelessness), but it was true that things really just boiled down to Twilight’s cowardice at the end of the day.

Something stirred guiltily inside him at the thought. Really, it was cowardly, wasn’t it? Maybe the others wouldn’t be able to accept him if they knew the truth, but didn’t they deserve to know? Was it really fine for him to keep deceiving them like that? Not to mention: as Time had often suggested, perhaps Twilight himself would feel better once the secret was out and the truth of his companion’s reactions with it. Better too for it to be on his own terms, rather than due to an eventual slip up.

He reluctantly turned his head back to Legend and opened his mouth to speak –

‘Which is to say that I’m trans and bisexual,’ Legend announced, pointedly not looking in Twilight’s direction at all.

Twilight closed his mouth.

‘Thank you for trusting us with this irrelevant personal information,’ Time said gravely.

‘Yeah, why would that be a secret?’ Wild asked confusedly.

In a similar tone, Hyrule asked, ‘What’s “bisexual”?’

Twilight’s flattened ears twitched upwards as Big Brother Mode promptly auto-enabled itself (if no one else had given Hyrule the talk, he certainly would). Forgetting his lupine form once again, he began, ‘Bisexuality is when someone is sexually and typically also romantically attracted to two or more –’

‘It means I’m attracted specifically to women who can kick my arse and to men whose arse I can kick,’ Legend informed the others.

‘Oh. Ok,’ said Hyrule, utterly unphased.

For his own part, Twilight flinched and sputtered back, ‘That is not what bisexual means and you know it, Legend!’

‘Do I?’ Legend challenged. ‘Do you?’

Twilight thought of the snarky imp that used to order him around, transformed into a gorgeous, muscular, unstoppable royal sorceress several inches taller than him. Twilight then thought of his gentle researcher boyfriend, who couldn’t even go grocery shopping without someone to help carry the bags. Twilight thought of Ilia – still a good friend, but inexplicably less attractive to him as an adult compared to when she used to be able to beat him in wrestling matches as a teen – and he thought of that weird, mildly upsetting crush he’d once had on the STAR game’s weedy, flamboyant host.

Twilight stared off into the distance. ‘That can’t be what bisexual means… can it?’

Having apparently received at least the salient parts of The Talk, Hyrule concluded aloud, ‘Not to kink-shame, but you have weird tastes, Lege.’

Time nodded thoughtfully and added, ‘My goodness… Ravio must be truly pathetic.’

‘Oh yeah, definitely,’ Legend agreed haphazardly. ‘This one time, he – hey! The fuck is that supposed to mean?! Don’t talk about him like that!’

Wild gave an intrigued hum.

Twilight sighed. ‘Alright, fine,’ he conceded. ‘Enough of this. You can tell them about me. Might as well get it over with.’

‘Huh?! You sure?’ Legend asked, startled. ‘Really sure about that?’

Thinking it through, Hyrule was the only one amongst the current group who hadn’t yet learned his secret. Admittedly, the one whose opinion Twilight was most afraid of, considering the type of magic involved and the impact that magic had had on Hyrule’s world. But…

Well. He couldn’t hide it forever, could he?

‘Just do it,’ Twilight gritted out.

‘Wolfie’s also trans and bisexual,’ said Legend.

‘Oh, fuck you,’ Twilight snapped immediately.

With far more solemnity than the words deserved, Time responded, ‘Good for Wolfie.’

‘Yeah. Down with the cishet patriarchy or whatever,’ said Wild. Hyrule gave a similarly apathetic response, lost beneath Twilight’s own snarl of, ‘Literally who the fuck cares about any of this shit, Legend?!’

‘I don’t know; weirdos?’ Legend said unconcernedly. ‘My uncle was fine with everything – ’cept maybe the name I picked, fucking hated that, wasn’t happy at all – but my sister got all sorts of shit from the genital astrologists when she came out. I mean, they’re the ones who assigned me ill-omen at birth; not her fault they fucked it up.’

‘Genital astrologists?’ Wild repeated curiously. ‘Is that what we’re calling them?’

Twilight growled. ‘Vet, I don’t even know what the fuck you’re on about now! Tell ’em I’m trans and bi and intersex or whatever, I don’t care –’

‘Oh, he’s also intersex,’ Legend added.

Time nodded politely and replied, ‘Dyadism is neither medically accurate nor socially necessary in a modern –’

‘Who the fuck cares?!’ yelled Twilight. ‘Tell them I’m Wolfie!’

‘And he’s Wolfie,’ Legend said, jerking a non-existent thumb in Wolfie’s direction.

‘We know this of course,’ Wild affirmed.

‘FUCK YOU! TELL THEM I’M TWILIGHT, YOU ABSOLUTE –!’

‘And he’s Twilight,’ Legend appended.

‘Oh, are we finally acknowledging that, then?’ said Hyrule.

Twilight paused.

Twilight stared.

Twilight’s brain halted and retraced the last several steps, before leisurely exploring each of the five stages of grief in vertical, horizontal, diagonal and alphabetical order, returning from vacation with a novelty slow globe and an overpriced, poorly crafted t-shirt. Hero’s journey complete, Twilight turned mechanically to Legend and asked, ‘Hey, vet. What did he just say?’

‘He said “oh, are we finally acknowledging that, then?”’ Legend repeated helpfully. ‘Why do you look so surprised? What, don’t tell me you seriously thought Roolie hadn’t figured it out yet? Smart kid like that? I mean, Wild I could understand – not ’cause you’re stupid, kiddo, just ’cause it’s been less than a week – but did you honestly, true to the golden three think that you could fool my goddess damned genius of a successor for two fucking months?’

Twilight did not respond.

‘Wow,’ said Wild. ‘This is… uh… kinda putting things in perspective for me. Thanks.’

‘Yeah. See: Twilight? He’s a dumbass,’ Legend concluded. ‘Just saying.’

‘We can’t all be wise on all things at all times,’ Twilight’s mentor and unofficial leader of their group amended charitably.

Twilight lowered his head and stared at the ground for several more seconds as his brain politely exited the scene, pursued by a bear, and returned to its previous vacation spot, emerging from the souvenir hut with a new patchy grass skirt wound around its middle and an exorbitant paper bookmark in hand.

Did brains have hands, Twilight wondered briefly? And were they digitigrade or plantigrade organs in this hyperthetical scenario?

Twilight had many such questions.

‘Legend,’ he said eventually, ‘is there a reason why you didn’t tell me about this earlier?’

Legend bristled. ‘Well, obviously, I didn’t want you to panic or double-down on pretending to be a dog or whatever. I mean, I did think of just telling you and getting it over with, but when I asked Time –’

‘I thought it best to leave the final decision in your hands. Or paws, I suppose,’ Time concluded. ‘I did try to hint it to you once or twice, of course, but secrets can be sensitive. As Legend says.’ He paused, looking off to the side, then added sheepishly, ‘Not to mention, it was… somewhat amusing. Though in retrospect, perhaps less amusing to those not in the know. My apologies, Wild.’

Wild’s eyes widened and he raised his hands placatingly. ‘Oh! No! I, umm, I didn’t mean to put anyone on the spot. I just. I overreacted. Again. I’m sorry.’

‘No, no. It’s quite understandable,’ said Time. ‘And I concede: there are perhaps others in our group who are yet to discern the admittedly-obvious truth of the situation. Not many, but some.’

‘Really? Who?’ asked Wild.

Time looked over to Twilight, lip quirking slightly, and replied unhelpfully, ‘I wonder.’

Plantigrade, Twilight decided. Flat on its feet, no grace at all: that was Twilight’s brain. Not at all like a horse with human hands.

‘I thought it was just one of those unspoken social things,’ Hyrule admitted. ‘I’m not always good with those. I knew from the start, but Legend only just figured it out recently, so when I asked him the first time, back when Wolfie first appeared, he said –’

‘H-hey! No need to tell them that, Roolie!’ Legend cut in quickly.

‘Tell us what?’ asked Wild, shaky smile growing that little bit more genuine.

And maybe Twilight should have felt relieved about that. Both that Wild was clearly feeling better and that Twilight’s dark, shameful secret was apparently no big deal at all. Perhaps he should have even felt grateful for all the grace and sensitivity the others had shown in not pressuring him to speak up. Perhaps that was how he should have felt.

Twilight breathed in. Twilight breathed out, slowly and carefully. Twilight breathed in once again.

‘Legend,’ he began. ‘You –’

‘You know, I’m starting to think we should maybe intervene in this,’ Wild remarked, pointing back towards the ongoing call and response of aggravated howls and out-of-context, expletive-laden diatribe stemming from the wolf and its small, pink passenger.

As they continued to walk onwards, Time sent a measured gaze back towards the two of his three successors.

He couldn’t help but feel slightly responsible for the situation.

Nonetheless: ‘They’ll sort it out eventually,’ Time decided.

It was only another hour’s walk, if that, before the trees began to thin out once again, revealing the ruins of an old stone structure overgrown with lichen and creeping vines. As they approached, the mottled patterns of the walls and pillars resolved themselves into countless intricate carvings of writhing dragons, snarling boars and watchful owls.

Time let his gaze roam across the area. ‘This all looks very familiar,’ he remarked aloud.

‘It does indeed,’ Legend said unexpectedly. With that announcement made, he hopped down off Twilight’s back (likely leaving behind minor bruises from all the relentless stomping) and bounded ahead, with the others following hastily after.

Pausing to peer behind each wall as he proceeded, Legend darted back and forth across the odd space, nose twitching rapidly as he completed his investigation.

‘This is the Sacred Meadow of Twilight’s era, I think,’ Legend announced eventually. ‘Or the Dark World equivalent for it, at least. Green and I were here the other day, but I didn’t recognise it at the time. It looks a lot different in my era. Makes sense, I guess.’

It did make sense, Time supposed, thoughts flicking back to Fado’s words from earlier. Something had happened in the wake of Time’s own death within that timeline. Something catastrophic enough to drive the Kokiri to flee from the Lost Woods – for all that Time had always believed that doing so would mean their deaths. Something that explained why the Lost Woods of Legend’s timeline was a different place to the Lost Woods of Time’s own era.

He tamped down on a sudden surge of irrational ire towards the veteran hero and his incomplete explanation of the other day. Later, Time told himself fiercely. Later, when they were no longer stranded in a dangerous, unfamiliar place, and when Legend was Hylian again and able to talk on equal terms. At that point, perhaps, he’d get the full story of what had happened to the Lost Woods of Legend’s era.

(He’d promised Fado he’d take her home, after all. For all a Hylian promise was worth.)

Pushing it from his mind for the moment, Time trailed his hand over the carved wall before him, comparing it to his memory of the overgrown maze that had once marked the entrance to Saria’s favourite place. He let his eye wander, imagining greenery wrapping over the structure, growing wild and thick over the years until little of the original shape remained visible beneath.

‘If this really is the Sacred Meadow,’ he responded, ‘then the Forest Temple must be up ahead.’

‘I think so too,’ Legend agreed. ‘Four said the Mirror of Twilight was supposed to be located there, right? I can definitely sense something up ahead: if there’s any way to return to the Light World – and for me and the farm boy to not be a fucking double-act menagerie anymore – it’s gotta be up ahead.’

Time nodded slowly, drawing his hand back from the wall. There was a prickling on the back of his neck, and he turned sharply at the sensation of watching eyes.

Nothing.

Nothing but a faint hint of movement, off beyond the treeline. A Deku Scrub, he guessed, or something like it. Content to cause mischief from a distance, but far too cowardly to risk a close-quarters encounter.

If that was the worst the place had to throw at them, Time would take it. Better that than the sinking feeling that they were about to get in over their heads with whatever waited inside the dark, stone temple.

He turned back to his companions. ‘Nothing for it,’ he told them. ‘Let’s continue. Careful, now.’

Chapter Text

Misunderstandings sheepishly smoothed over and broken doors hastily patched, the fact remained that Sky was utterly indisposed to accept any new guests. Hylia-descended Queen of Hyrule or no, he’d had more than half a mind to (politely, this time) toss the stately woman, along with her two companions, bodily from the premises, only for the Zelda of Twilight’s era to pull out a trump card that Sky could hardly refuse.

He hovered agitatedly at her side as she inspected each of his ill companions in turn, grey-blue eyes sharp and left hand glowing a soft golden hue as it hovered before her patients. Eventually, she drew back with a quiet sigh and a decisive nod.

‘Exhaustion, combined with a common cold,’ the Queen confirmed. ‘Signs of magic overuse as well, which can have a compounding effect.’

Sky’s worried gaze turned reproachful as he surveyed the sad, feverish pile of Four’s alters, who had the good sense to at least feign some level of guilt in response. ‘Magic overuse?’ he asked shrewdly.

Red grimaced and looked away, while Vio gave a sheepish sniffle and admitted, ‘Splitting like this… does take a bit of energy.’

‘Wouldn’t be a problem if Four wasn’t so out of practice,’ grumbled Blue.

‘And yet he is,’ Green remarked sharply, ‘as I think we established yesterday. Remember the part where we passed out?’

‘Yes, I remember, so you can shut the fuck up about it already,’ snapped Blue.

A question, or two, was at the very tip of Sky’s tongue before he noticed Warriors’s subtle wince and not-to-subtle glance over at the royal in their midst. Expression placid, Queen Zelda merely folded her gloved hands and advised, ‘Bed rest really is the best cure for this. The medicine your companion left behind should also help. It’s quite well made, really.’

A tinge of pride in Hyrule’s work cut through Sky’s apprehension, dampened by a sudden realisation. ‘I’m not sure he made enough for four people,’ he admitted aloud. ‘He said he was out of ingredients, too…’

‘It’s fine,’ Vio said dismissively. ‘Just a cold, as Her Majesty says. We’ll be alright. Better if we don’t strain ourselves by merging again right away, but we can if we have to.’

If travelling with eight to eleven-ish hero types with low self-esteem and astonishingly low self-awareness (honestly, where did they all get that from?) had taught Sky anything, it was that phrases such as “better if we don’t strain ourselves” and “we can if we have to” should be interpreted as something along the lines of “we’ll definitely pass out, and possibly also die if we do that thing”. Hard to say exactly how many warehouses of salt Vio’s own words should be taken with, but Sky was not, for the moment, in the mood to find out.

He chewed his lip for a few moments more, glancing between the recently repaired doorframe and his still very vulnerable companions, for all that Wind and Warriors were both looking significantly better than they had been earlier that day. ‘I think Twilight – Link, that is – mentioned there being a herbalist in the village,’ he eventually mused aloud. ‘It wouldn’t take me long to make a round trip. If you wouldn’t mind writing the ingredients down for me, Ze– Your Highness?’

‘Sky, it’s seriously not a big deal,’ Green said exasperatedly. ‘Let’s just wait it out. It’s almost sunset; even if the herbalist is still taking customers, the others’ll be back soon. One way or another.’

One way or another.

Sky felt the lump in his throat grow.

The light from the window still held a yellowish tinge, but now that he was paying attention, it was clear that there was very little time indeed until sunset. Time and Twilight had promised to bring the others back by nightfall, whether on foot or through Time’s magic, and whether they found Legend or not – for all that Wild’s subtle shuffling and Hyrule’s mutinous scowl had hinted that only one of those scenarios would be acceptable, and for all that a part of Sky himself had wanted to demand that they return with every single person accounted for or so help him.

Truly, at times like these that he couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of Four’s own ability, copious energy drain notwithstanding. If only there was a way for Sky to split himself, so that he could search for Legend and care for his companions and deal with whatever new issue Her Very Royal Highness had come to deliver, and…

‘I’d rather be doing something useful,’ Sky admitted. ‘Not to mention…’ He trailed off, struggling to put that odd, inexplicable sense of foreboding into words. He eventually landed on, ‘It’s better to be prepared, I think. Even if it’s not so serious now. Better… just in case it gets worse, or if anyone else…’ He paused to collect himself. ‘Uh… though speaking of the hour… if you’ll forgive me, Your, umm, Highn–’

‘Your Majesty,’ Warriors corrected in a terse whisper.

‘– Your Majesty, that is,’ Sky amended obligingly, despite having zero clue as to the difference, and also despite definitely having a very clear memory of the Queen permitting them to drop the formalities. Which was not unusual among the Zeldas they’d met to date, and certainly rather fair in the context of an unexpected visit of this nature. Yet, whether it was something about the woman herself, her lofty title and and whatever legacy she carried into Warriors’s own era, or if it was simply the fact that the way she carried herself was somehow more… “royal”, Sky supposed, than any of the other Zeldas they had met, Warriors seemed unusually on edge. Which was, as far as Sky was concerned, yet another damn good reason for a polite defenestration or two.

Patience, he told himself.

‘I understand you wanted to meet with Link tonight, but perhaps you could postpone that to another day?’ he suggested politely. ‘Or maybe you could tell my companions and me whatever it was that you wanted to tell to him?’

‘I suppose we did drop by rather suddenly,’ Zelda conceded gracefully, thankfully putting both Sky and his eagle-eyed etiquette instructor out of their misery.

(Though really, was it Sky’s fault that he pre-dated the entire concept of a Kingdom of Hyrule and its ruler? No one had to bother with “Your Majesty”s and “Your Highness”s up in the clouds. Simpler times.)

Caught up in his internal grumblings as he was, Sky almost missed the second half of Zelda’s response: ‘–haps you wouldn’t mind escorting my companions and me to the closest inn?’

‘Huh?’ Sky said blankly.

Several people stared at him.

Looking just a few social missteps shy of abject panic, Warriors made another hasty and rather foolish attempt to stand. Sky shoved him back down with perhaps a slightly unnecessary amount of force.

‘We would of course visit the herbalist along the way,’ the Queen continued, as if nothing had happened. ‘I will happily assist you, if you would accept my aid. And I must admit: I would rather like for us to have a chance to speak, Hero of the Skies.’

‘Got it. Yes, absolutely, thank you, will do,’ Sky concluded haphazardly. He scrambled to his feet and gave what he assumed to be the correct level of bowing for the circumstances. ‘Right this way, then, Your High– Majestic – Your Majesty.’

Nailed it.

A small object sailed through the air, intercepted at the last moment by Sky’s hand. He inspected his prize, which turned out to be Wind’s pirate charm.

‘If you take too long with the shopping and the others get back, I’ll get Wild to contact you,’ Wind explained. ‘Right after I lecture him about forgetting how the tech works and ignoring my calls for two fucking days in a row.’

Seated cross-legged at Wind’s side, Ashei asked, ‘We already heading out then?’ She seemed oddly disappointed about this fact, for someone who had, only recently, broken down the door to Twilight’s house and threatened to impale and/or decapitate its infirm inhabitants.

Not that Sky was holding a grudge or anything.

‘Why are you smiling at me like that?’ Ashei asked suspiciously.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Sky responded. He turned said smile on her companion and grudgingly asked, ‘Shad, will you be coming with us, or staying?’

It was a reasonable question, he supposed; for all that Twilight didn’t talk overly much about his personal relationships, it wasn’t exactly fair for the Chain to rush in and supplant them, especially when none of them knew for sure how long their journey would last or how it would end. Still, a small and jealous part of him was soothed when Shad responded, ‘Link and I can wait to catch up. Just let him know I’m here, alright?’

‘Will do,’ Sky said gratefully. ‘Everyone else: take care. I won’t be long.’

He excused himself with one final wave to Wind, Warriors and Four’s four alters. The newly-splintered, poorly mended door creaked unhappily on their way out, failing to close properly until Ashei awkwardly lifted it up and fitted it back into place.

Sky decided not to comment.

Deep snuffles and grunts from ahead gave the first hint that the winding maze leading up to the Forest Temple was not as uninhabited as it had first appeared. With a few quick hand signals and a meaningful glance – yet, notably, no pause for a response – Wild clambered up the sheer stone wall, fitting his fingers and toes into tiny carved or weather-worn crevices with enviable ease. He paused briefly to scan his surroundings before swinging his legs up and over the edge and crouching there, slate held before his eyes like an oddly shaped spyglass.

Confined, once again, to the loving embrace of one of the few people who would get away with it (and in his successor’s defence, Hyrule had granted almost an entire hour of grudging independence before swooping in once again), Legend watched Wild shift from side to side, silently mouthing a count, before dropping back down. His boots gave a sad, wet crunch upon collision with the decayed forest mess below.

‘Moblins, I think, though they’re much bigger than the ones I’m used to,’ Wild reported. ‘I counted six spear tips, evenly spaced out along the way, moving back and forth in a pattern. Almost as if they’re patrolling.’ He sounded confused at the idea. ‘I could also hear a handful of smaller things moving around nearby, but I couldn’t tell what they were from up there. Maybe once I get closer.’

‘No need; I hear them too. Those are snapdragons,’ Legend supplied, because those ridiculous ears of his had to be good for something. In response to the various blank looks that that garnered, he explained, ‘They’re kind of like if deku baba grew feet. Nasty things. Only takes a good hit or two to take them out, but they pack a mean bite. Best to keep a distance, if you can.’

Time hummed thoughtfully. ‘Deku babas with feet, huh? I think I fought something like that back in Termina, come to think of it.’

Legend perked up. ‘Back in where now?’

Time shrugged. Thoroughly ignoring Legend’s rekindled curiosity like the mysterious little shit they all knew and loved, he turned back to Wild and asked, ‘Do you think we can sneak past?’

Wild considered. ‘Maybe, if we’re careful. Or if we’re quick. If we all climb up, we can probably skirt along the edge of the maze, or sneak across whenever one of those moblins moves past, but these walls are not particularly tall, especially considering how big the moblins are. If they noticed us, we’d be in trouble.’ He sent a speculative glance back the way they came, tilting his head upwards. ‘I suppose we could try climbing up that cliff over there… could be a stretch, but we might be able to just paraglide all the way over… or maybe not,’ he amended, eyes skidding over to Legend and Twilight.

‘Yeah, “not”,’ Legend agreed sourly. He peered dubiously up at the “not particularly tall” walls in question, and added, ‘Dunno how you think the rest of us are getting up there, but if I fall from that kind of height, it’s not gonna be pretty. I’d rather go on foot.’

‘Probably safer,’ Time agreed. ‘We’ll try to sneak up on the moblins, then. Should be doable, if I remember the layout correctly – and assuming it’s the same as it is in my era. I’ll lead us in. Wild, can you provide cover from above? Feel free to take down any snapdragons along the way if you think can get a clean shot in, but be careful not to let anything spot you.’

Wild gave a thumbs-up and once again scaled the sheer wall, adding credence to Legend’s growing suspicion that there were octorok suckers attached to the younger hero’s hands.

A mystery for another day.

‘I’ll take the lead,’ Legend instead informed the others, wiggling to free himself. ‘If this lousy form’s good for one thing, it’s scouting, and – OOF!’

Hyrule immediately relaxed his too-tight grip, with an apologetic caress of Legend’s long, furry ears. His voice remained tense as he stated, ‘You said you couldn’t fight like this.’

Legend bristled, despite himself. ‘Yeah. So? I wasn’t intending to fight. I made do with this form back when I was a kid, and I can make do now as well. Or am I all washed up at the ripe old age of nineteen?’

Hyrule flinched, and Legend took the opportunity to squirm free, landing slightly clumsily on his splayed limbs (weren’t rabbits supposed to be able to land on their feet? Or was that just cats?). He paused for a moment, then swivelled and rose on his haunches, facing Hyrule.

‘Listen. I may not look like much right now, but I know what I’m doing,’ he announced. ‘I’ve done my share of adventuring. Not saying it’s anything like what you went through, but this is my seventh quest. Not my first. I’m still the damn Hero of Legend, you know? That title oughta be worth something.’

Hyrule opened his mouth in the beginnings of an argument, but Legend scoffed and went on, ‘Yeah, yeah: I’m a rabbit. Big deal. Being small has its advantages, you know? Those moblins aren’t even gonna notice me. And even if they do, I’m faster than you think. Not to mention I know this area. Sure, the Eastern Palace might look a little different in my time, but I’ve spent enough time coming in and out of this particular maze that I could probably do it blindfolded. ’Course, I won’t actually do that, because I’m not a fucking moron, but the point stands: just because I look ridiculous doesn’t mean I’m fucking useless.’

Hyrule’s ears flicked downwards. ‘I… never said…’

‘Yeah, I know,’ Legend agreed. ‘You’re a good kid. But you are still a kid. And I’m an adult, and your predecessor, so I’ll be looking after you, and not the other way around. Got that? Then let’s get moving, already.’

Unfortunately, the moment Legend tried to move away, an oversized paw pressed down on his head, squashing him against the ground. He swatted helplessly and snarled, ‘Quit it! Down, boy! Sit!’

In a dry tone, Twilight responded, ‘As a twenty-five-year-old myself, I feel compelled to remind you –’

‘Fuck off, grandpa,’ Legend shot back.

‘– that Time, as your own predecessor, can literally turn invisible,’ Twilight informed him.

Legend paused.

Legend considered that actually-rather-fair insight.

‘Fuck you; I’m not translating that,’ Legend eventually concluded.

‘Was it about the fact that I can turn invisible?’ asked Time. Legend shifted his gaze to find that the greyish mask in question was already held at ready in his left hand.

Wild’s head reappeared over the wall. ‘Are you guys coming, or what?’ he asked.

Legend ground his teeth together. ‘Fuck it. Fine,’ he snapped. ‘Hurry up, Old Man; let’s just go already.’

Twilight guessed they were about fourteen minutes and fifty-nine seconds away from Legend regretting his little lecture. Possibly less, considering just how dejected Hyrule looked. Possibly more, considering the continued irritation fluffing up the rabbit’s fur. Only time would tell.

Speaking of which.

Twilight’s mentor looked ghostly and strange in Twilight’s extra senses, moving confidently through the maze with no care for stealth beyond what that unusual magic he carried granted him. Possessing no such magics himself, Wild could instead be found on the edges of the visible spectrum, crouched carefully atop the ledge behind them with bow in hand, only to suddenly shift forwards on occasion to take down the scattering of smaller prey with clever, pinpointed shots – utterly efficient and careful, and worlds apart from the chaotic, aggressive movements of his melee style.

In between those precise shots, Time’s powerful blade and Twilight’s own jaws, the first moblin went down easily enough, followed by the second and the third. Twilight spat out as much of the sickly, foul-tasting black blood as he could, wishing there was somewhere he could rinse off what remained. No helping it, he supposed.

The fourth moblin posed a somewhat greater challenge, though more due to bad luck than anything else. A scuttling snapdragon sent a single, startled keese fluttering out from the maze, surprising the moblin in question enough to halt its steady patrol. Wild evidently took that as his cue to attack, leaving Time scrambling to catch up as the moblin, heedless of the three separate arrows lodged in its thick hide, bellowed and charged at the wall. The entire structure shook on impact, and Wild tumbled backwards and out of sight.

Protective instincts thoroughly engaged, Twilight snarled and lunged, burying his teeth in the moblin’s leg. A moment later, Time’s claymore swung down, opening a long, deep gash into the monster’s back. One of Hyrule’s fireballs followed, and the monster howled, swinging its spear aimlessly while Time ducked and weaved.

All of a sudden, the creature’s flailing ceased, with bright yellow chains swiftly wrapping themselves around the monster. Seemingly unharmed, Wild leaned over the wall with a thumbs-up and a yell of, ‘Five seconds!’

Twilight attempted to take an opportunistic chunk out of the moblin’s hide, only to reel back, baffled by the jelly-like resistance caused by Wild’s Stasis Rune. In the next instant, Time was yanking him back by the ruff of his neck, leaving a small pile of bright red bombs in his wake. The older hero tilted his mask to shout a warning to the others as both sets of timers ticked to their conclusion.

There was a percussive boom, mixed with the sound of shattering glass and the pained bellow of the dying beast. A smattering of shrapnel followed shortly after.

The ensuing silence was regrettably brief.

‘You guys are nailing this whole stealth thing, huh?’ a surly Legend remarked, as if the thunder of approaching footsteps hadn’t been judgement enough.

Twilight sighed. ‘Thanks, vet,’ he deadpanned. ‘Appreciated. As always.’

Two more battles and several more explosives later, they arrived at a long set of stairs. One final battle and a really rather excessive number of final explosives later, they reached the top of those stairs and emerged into an area that Twilight recognised as the Sacred Meadow, and beyond it, the ruins of the ancient Temple of Time.

Little had remained of that temple within Twilight’s light world, save for his own brief excursion back into the distant past, yet it was comparatively intact within this strange alternate realm – not quite “good as new”, but certainly not the crumbled ruins he’d expected either. The area further to the back looked to be in even better condition, though the ceiling and steps leading up to it were cracked and broken across the moss-shrouded floor, with thick tree roots lifting and scattering the stone tiles on either side.

Twilight had expected Time to head that way, or perhaps even to pause at the empty dais where the Master Sword’s pedestal had sat within Twilight’s Light World. Instead, the older hero meandered to the right, halting before a mossy tree stump where several long tendrils of misshapen, unhealthy growth reached determinedly for the dull orange-grey sky above. Twilight hesitated, but eventually padded over, keeping his distance until Time offered a hand in welcome, twisting it to stroke over Twilight’s flank as he drew near.

And perhaps Twilight’s inability to speak was a blessing in disguise in that moment; he didn’t know what he would have said in response to his mentor’s distant, haunted gaze. The best he could offer was his presence, pressed close against Time’s armoured side.

They stayed like that for several long seconds, until an odd, resonant voice from above broke the silence.

‘I was not expecting us to meet again so soon, young Hero of the Twilight.’

He looked up to find a small, masked figure seated upon what remained of the temple steps, ghostly white robes and long pale hair flapping slightly despite the still air. His eyes widened with recognition, and he hesitated briefly before barking a greeting and padding closer, with Time slowly following after.

‘You are…’ Time began hesitantly. ‘No… you must be…?’

The ancient sage – one of the five that Twilight had met back in the Mirror Chamber atop Arbiter’s Grounds – turned her masked face in Time’s direction with a quiet hum of intrigue. In a voice that was likely too quiet for Hylian ears, she murmured, ‘That scent… nostalgic indeed, if a little faded… yet that spirit…’ Shielded by her mask, the sage’s featureless gaze roved over the rest of the group. ‘The others, too. All of them. So many, and so soon. Was I… mistaken? Or have I merely lost sight of time's flow?’

Twilight gave a confused growl, even as Time stepped forwards. ‘Sage of Forest,’ the latter called. ‘That is you, isn’t it?’

The Sage inclined her head. ‘I am indeed the Sage of Forest. And you… you must be the Hero of Time. Yes, I remember that soul, that spirit, and that scent… You came here, once before, didn’t you? Long before this temple fell into the darkness. You were there, back then, alongside the one who was supposed to replace me. I remember…’

Time hesitated, eyes flickering to the sprouted stump and then back up to the Sage. ‘You say it “fell into the darkness”… what exactly happened? Is this really that same Forest Temple? And…’ He paused. ‘And as for the one that was supposed to replace you…’

‘You ask many questions, Hero. Few of which I can answer,’ the Sage replied impassively. ‘Until such time as my replacement appears, I remain as the Sage of Forest. My duty does not change, even if that which surrounds it changes. A Kokiri’s vow is absolute.’

Time’s shoulders slouched. ‘I see,’ he responded. ‘Then… one final question. We are seeking a way to return to the world of light. To the Hero of Twilight’s world, that is. Can you show us the way?’

The Sage regarded him for a long moment. Slowly, she replied, ‘Hero of Time… the Kokiri do not break promises. I hope you understand that. Until such time as my replacement appears, I remain as the Sage of Forest, and therefore as custodian of this temple. It appears, as such, that I am unable to aid you. I wish you safe travels.’

‘Wait –’ Time began, reaching forward hastily, but the ghostly figure shimmered and quickly faded in a flurry of pale light.

Time lowered his hand. He took a deep breath and turned back to the others.

‘Well,’ he remarked. ‘As she says.’

‘Uhh…’ Wild shifted awkwardly. ‘What exactly did she say?’

Time blinked, seemingly caught off guard. ‘Did you… not hear her?’

Twilight rolled his eyes and nudged his mentor. ‘We don’t all speak fey riddles,’ he barked.

‘Farm boy says to say it in Hylian,’ Legend translated helpfully.

‘Oh,’ said Time. He frowned. ‘Well. It seems like we’re going to have to head inside the temple to find what we’re looking for. And that the Sage is probably going to have to cause trouble for us, whether she wants to or not.’

‘She can certainly try,’ Legend remarked, using the tiny claws of his soft bun bun foot to scratch behind his adorable, deeply harmless bun bun ears.

Twilight valiantly resisted the urge to comment. Time, for his part, gave a diplomatic hum. He scanned over the fallen stairs once again, and continued, ‘Wild. I assume you can climb that?’ At the answering nod, he went on, ‘Twilight? Do you need help?’

Twilight eyed the distance briefly, and shook his head. It wasn’t far, even without Midna’s guidance to place his feet. With one powerful flex of his legs, he was at the top of the stairs, looking down at the others with a triumphant doggy grin.

Legend shuffled furtively, nose and ears twitching. Eventually, he sheepishly asked, ‘Mind giving me a leg-up, Roolie?’

‘Oh! Uh, yes – I mean, no, I don’t mind,’ Hyrule said quickly. He crouched tentatively, holding his arms out to let Legend climb in at his leisure. He rose to his feet, predecessor held close against his chest, and asked, ‘How about you, Time?’

Time shook his head. ‘No need.’

Twilight watched as his mentor fumbled through his pouch for a moment, then produced his spear-like longshot. It lodged easily into the thick branches above Twilight’s head, and the armour-clad hero whizzed through the air and landed surprisingly lightly on his feet at Twilight’s side. With a glimmer of magic around his own legs, Hyrule followed a moment later, carefully lowering Legend back down upon arrival.

With everyone accounted for, Twilight huffed quietly, and led the way inside.

Chapter Text

Beyond the temple entrance was a high-ceilinged rectangular foyer pierced through with twisting trees matching those found outside. On the opposite side, beyond a short, wide staircase, was a carved wooden door leading further into the temple.

Twilight led them in. Several steps past the threshold, the wolf halted with a growl as a pile of bones and armour to the right whirled upwards and rearranged itself into a humanoid form. A second skeletal monster emerged on the left as Twilight reflexively leapt clear of the first, followed by two more as Time and Hyrule moved in to help.

Last to enter, Wild set his back against the wall and raised his bow. Skulls had always been a reliable target when it came to the stal monsters he’d encountered in the past, but enough of Wild’s arrows pinged off the helms of these ones that he gave up and switched to a sword and shield.

With the numbers even (plus one small and agitated pink rabbit on the side), it was a long fight but not an overly dangerous one. They took their time circling, dodging, parrying and only striking where opportunities arose – a slow and careful dance that felt distinctly familiar for all that it was worlds apart from the usual frantic pace of Wild’s melee style. These foes, at least, did not regenerate: indeed, if his companions’ words were to be believed, that was merely an odd quirk of Wild’s own era, rather than the norm across the timeline.

Twilight was last to finish his battle, with Time helpfully swooping in at the end with an underhanded strike from behind. As soon as the battle was over, the younger of the two broke away to run a few quick laps of the room, sniffing at the ground along the way and halting with a single bark upon his return.

‘No other enemies?’ Wild guessed. A second bark, and Twilight nodded, oversized tail wagging happily at the successful communication. Wild then turned his gaze on Time, whose single eye scanned thoughtfully over their surroundings for a long moment before he remarked, ‘I suppose we keep going then.’

‘Is something wrong?’ Legend prompted.

‘No… just that that seemed a little too easy.’

‘What? You want us fighting black-blooded stalfos? Fuck that shit,’ huffed Legend. Time shrugged, but didn’t argue.

Struggling slightly with the tall steps, Legend led the way upwards, only to halt in place upon the landing, stymied by the antique brass doorknob that sat well above his head. Wild stepped past and carefully reached for the handle. Considering the age of the surrounding structure, he half expected the ancient fittings to fall apart in his hand, yet only the slightest creak greeted him as he pulled it open for himself and his irritated companion. Together, they walked/hopped down the short hallway beyond and emerged into a distinctly familiar foyer.

Wild looked from side to side, spotting the churned earth and bone shard remnants of their recent fight. He glanced behind, and gave a double-take: Hyrule and the others were no longer in sight. Instead, Wild found himself at the mouth of the temple once again.

‘Shit,’ Legend cursed. ‘Fucking repeating room puzzles.’

‘…What?’ said Wild.

There was a truncated, muffled noise of confusion from the opposite end of the room, followed by the second half of Twilight’s bark as the wolf materialised at Wild’s side.

They looked at each other. Twilight looked back the way he’d come, then back up at Wild once again with a confused woof.

‘Yeah, I don’t get it either,’ Wild agreed.

Curiosity nonetheless piqued, he powerwalked towards the staircase at the other end of the foyer, right as Hyrule hurried in from behind and Time emerged through the door at the top of the dais.

There was a brief pause.

‘Well,’ said Time, ‘this is new.’

‘No way. Oldest trick in the book,’ griped Legend. He sighed. ‘Only two visible exits. In this sort of setup, there should be either a hidden third one, or some way to disable the magic.’

Cautiously, Hyrule volunteered, ‘If it’s like the bottomless pit from the Hidden Palace –’ Wild forcibly restrained himself from commenting on the improbable physics of that one ‘– there may be a side passage… I could use my fairy form to scout it out?’

‘You had them in vertical format too, huh? Yeesh,’ Legend commented haphazardly, and Wild, once again, forcibly restrained himself. Legend continued, ‘But transforming right now is a bad idea, ’Rule. Remember: you need to stay in contact with the Master Sword, and who knows how that would work for you in fairy form. Not to mention, you might need your magic later.’

‘…That’s true,’ Hyrule said quietly.

‘I feel like we’re all quite casually ignoring the fact that there’s a literal loop in space at the end of this corridor,’ blurted Wild.

‘Yeah? What’s your point?’ Legend asked impatiently.

‘What is my point?’ Wild decried. ‘Now you just hold on one singular second, oh physics-defying, science-disregarding, caecotroph-devouring Hero of Legend.’

‘The fuck was that last one?’ asked Legend, spoken very much like a creature sorely lacking in ancient Sheikah pocket compendiums of dark leporine lore.

Wild, for his own part, was a creature of science.

He ran for the door, charged down the hallway, and arrived, once again, at the entrance of the foyer – one level below the stairs he had just climbed up. Just to ensure a proper sample-size for this thesis, he headed upstairs once again, and yep: same result. Out of curiosity, he turned back the way he’d come and carefully inspected the scene before him, finding only the same crumbled staircase and old stump from before.

Curious indeed.

‘Guess it’s a one way thing, then,’ Wild mused. ‘You can leave anytime you want, but you can’t progress further.’

Kind of the Forest Sage to give them an out, he supposed. Perhaps she really had been reluctant to harm them, or at least reluctant to harm Time or Twilight, who she supposedly knew.

They’d blazed through that previous temple easily enough, perhaps, in part, because Fado, as its own custodian, hadn’t actually tried to keep them out. Judging by the Forest Sage’s words however, this second dungeon would not bow quite so easily to their will.

Caught in his musings, Wild jumped slightly as Twilight appeared at his side – or rather, as half of Twilight appeared at his side, shrinking to one quarter and then growing to three as Twilight shuffled back and forth, surveying his own stranded midriff. When Wild craned his own head around, morbidly curious about the cross-section, he found only a tasteful shadow with a slight haze blurring the area where the two passageways met. A tap on his head, followed by a ruffle of his hair, dragged Wild’s attention up to Time’s disembodied hand, held out for a high five. Naturally, Wild gave it.

‘Are you guys done playing around, yet?’ Legend called from his position at the centre of the foyer.

‘Not really, no,’ Wild answered honestly. ‘Do I have to be?’

There was a muffled grumble. A few seconds later, Legend hopped over to him, just as Time and Hyrule stepped through the passage as well, with Twilight shuffling obligingly from their path.

‘Fine,’ Legend said grudgingly. ‘A little break won’t kill us. Can’t say I’ve never messed around with this shit before. Still, I don’t wanna be stuck here overnight again if I can help it: join me once you’re done, and we’ll figure out a way forward.’

A twinge of sympathy dampened Wild’s enthusiasm as he watched the transformed hero hop lethargically around the room. Right, he reminded himself sternly: not there for fun.

Without the scientific novelty to distract him, the ever-present chill returned in full force. Wild shivered, drawing his borrowed cloak tighter around himself once again, for all the difference it made. Truthfully, it wasn’t as if Wild particularly wanted to spend the night stuck in a creepy temple in a creepy parallel world, either.

As they all split up to search, Wild reached furtively for his slate and produced a fresh vial of spicy elixir. The warm flush it brought to his skin prickled somewhat discomfortingly, not quite erasing the cold pressure of their surroundings but at least making it a little more bearable – and presumably restoring enough colour to his cheeks that Time had stopped checking in on him quite so often. It was a clumsy fix, certainly, but it was enough to keep him going. For the moment, at least.

Yep. Maybe Wild would hold off on the whole exploration thing after all.

Five minutes later, Time, having climbed up the vine-shrouded wall in an unusual feat of dexterity, had found a wooden chest and a purple rupee. Legend, having dug several holes in the ground, had managed to unearth a nest of large spiders, Hyrule and Twilight, having been suitably distracted by said nest of spiders, had found nothing, and Wild, thankfully, had found a moss-shrouded stone plaque to the side of the entrance, inscribed with a message that Wild dearly hoped constituted a “clue”.

‘“Retreat to progress”,’ he read aloud for the benefit of the others.

Each of their gazes turned back to the temple exit.

‘We definitely checked that, right?’ Legend said doubtfully.

Even as Wild nodded his head, Time was striding outside once again, pausing thoughtfully to survey his surroundings before returning to give an apologetic shrug.

‘Right inside the entranceway, maybe?’ Legend suggested. ‘Or the wall right behind the plaque? See if there are any switches, or maybe tap it to see if it’s bombable?’

‘Tap it?’ Hyrule repeated confusedly.

‘Yeah – soft tap with the pommel of your sword. Or a dagger. It should sound a little different if it’s hollow, or if the wall’s cracked. I’d show you, but… y’know.’

‘Right…’

And generally, Wild would be all over poking walls to see if they were bombable, but something about the passageway itself was drawing his attention.

He stepped through and arrived, once again, at the crumbling stone steps that lead down to the Sacred Meadow. Clearly not the right direction, and yet…

Time had been in the temple before, and yet he’d seemed as surprised as any of them by the loop. If there had been an obvious third passage known to him, surely he would have mentioned it already – which meant that either he’d forgotten, or the opposite door was the correct way forward, just enchanted in a way to stop them progressing. Only to stop them from progressing; not to stop them from leaving.

Was the same true of the area beyond the loop?

Testing his theory, Wild headed back towards the wooden door, opened it up, and then turned to face the temple entrance. Slightly awkwardly, he shuffled backwards, one hand on the wall, until he reached the opposite exit and stepped clear of the archway. He turned to the front once again.

Instead of the foyer, there was a vast chamber stretching out before him, with stairs leading downwards from the entry-point and then up again along the left and right. At the centre of the space was a square dais bearing a small, box-shaped gazebo ringed with eight small stone plinths and four golden pillars. Beyond, Wild could see a pair of large statues flanking a colourful mural on the back wall.

And perhaps Wild spent a little too long surveying the scene before him, because in the next moment there was a frantic yell from behind: ‘Wild? Wild, where are you?!’

Wild swivelled to find a panicking Time staring out at him from the hallway. ‘Uh – sorry,’ he said quickly. ‘Guess I got a little –’

‘Wild!’ Time yelled again, gaze sweeping blindly over Wild’s location, then over the walls of the hallway he stood in. ‘Shit,’ he muttered frantically, then in a louder tone he called, ‘Pup – can you sense him?!’

Realisation struck and Wild stepped back inside the walkway. ‘Sorry,’ he said hastily. ‘I’m here. Sorry. I figured out how to –’

‘Malon save me, cub!’ Time hissed as he reached forward and tackled Wild in a unexpected – but not entirely unwelcome – embrace.

‘Umm?’ Wild uttered confusedly.

Time exhaled. ‘You scared me,’ he muttered. ‘Have some pity for this poor old man’s heart, won’t you?’

And maybe it was the excessive dosage of spicy elixir catching up on Wild, but his face felt a little flushed at Time’s clear relief. He cleared his throat. ‘Umm. I, uh… figured out how to get to the next room,’ he said meekly.

To Wild’s vague disappointment, Time drew back. ‘You did?’ he asked.

‘Uh… yeah. Sorry. Let me explain.’

One quick debrief later, they were all through the doorway and headed downstairs. After a minor misstep by Twilight confirmed that the boxy structure was, in fact, an elevator, Wild left it alone and instead took the liberty of inspecting the stone plinths.

Each of them held a weapon or other small item: a boomerang, a bow, a hammer, a slingshot, a rod with a bright red cap, a set of boots that looked similar to Legend’s usual pair, a clawed object that looked similar to Time’s hookshot, and an oversized blue feather that looked distinctly like it had been plucked from a certain long-dead prissy Rito’s long-dead behind.

‘Fucking item banks,’ Legend wheezed as he finally made it to the dais, one epic battle with a set of stairs clearly not designed for bun bun legs later. As the others exchanged confused glances, Legend paused to catch his breath and explained, ‘You can each… pick one item to use while we’re here, and… swap them out as you go… but they… huff… won’t come with us when we leave.’

‘What if I want to pick multiple items?’ Wild contended, only to answer his own question as he picked up the feather with his right hand and watched the bow in his left vanish and reappear on the podium.

‘That,’ Legend said pointedly. ‘But… huff… given the layout…’ He eyed their surroundings once again, nose twitching. ‘Hmm… to me, this looks like the central hub of the dungeon. I can sense the source of the dark magic right up ahead, I think – though it’s hard to know for sure, with so many monster auras around. We’re probably supposed to come back here again and again, swapping out items whenever we need them until we clear the way to the final room.’

Wild frowned. ‘That sounds like it’ll take a while.’

‘Yeah, exactly,’ Legend agreed. ‘So first let’s check the main door and figure out if we can just bust through and skip all that nonsense.’

Link, the “dungeon logic” Hero of Time’s placid expression twitched. ‘Surely it would not be so easy as that.’

Legend gave an expressive shrug with his front paws. ‘Maybe not. But you never know until you try, right? Sometimes all you need is a tornado rod and a good bomb boost to –’

‘A bomb boost?’ Wild repeated, perking up a little.

Twilight gave a low, threatening growl.

‘Figure of speech,’ Legend clarified unconvincingly. ‘Point is: let’s go check out that door up ahead before we do anything else.’

Wild marked that one down for later interrogation, but obligingly followed Legend to the frieze up ahead. It was split into four segments painted in purple, blue, red and green, each bearing the gem-encrusted image of a different monster. It was only on close inspection that Wild noticed the gap between the two vertical pairs of panels, along with the metal tracks beneath, that confirmed that it was, indeed, intended to act as a door – albeit one with no clear handles, or even a keyhole. After watching Legend make a brief, deeply adorable, attempt to slide the door open using only his claws, Wild, Time and Hyrule each applied their own strength to the task, followed by their own explosives and oversized hammers (filling in for Twilight’s absent ball and chain) as it stalwartly refused to budge. At Legend’s suggestion, Hyrule pulled a folding ladder out of his bag and used it to validate that the area above the door, decorated with the emblem of the Hyrulean Royal Family, was indeed solid – as was, Wild would have thought, rather expected of most walls. Wild, for his own part, prodded at the statues on either side of the door – twin axe-wielding knights with circular hollows in their chests – searching for some sort of unlocking mechanism and finding none.

‘How does this thing open, then?’ he wondered aloud at last.

‘It’s a combat dungeon, I think,’ Legend responded wearily. ‘See those pictures on the gate?’

Obligingly, Wild and his companions followed Legend’s gaze back up to the mural and the four monsters it depicted.

The top left panel, shaded a rich purple, displayed a writhing mass of deku baba heads, all twined together around a single root system. To the right of it was a blue panel bearing a jellyfish-shaped creature surrounded by a cluster of round blobs, and below was a red segment emblazoned with a hunched, cloaked figure clutching a lantern. The final panel, on the bottom right, was bright emerald green, showing a creature shaped like a moth, with a single large eye and a set of long, spindly limbs curling out from its thorax.

‘Why is it capital-F-Four-coloured?’ Wild asked curiously.

‘Other way around, I think,’ Legend explained. ‘Those colours represent the four physical elements, each of which were infused into the Four Sword when it was created: purple for earth, blue for water, red for fire and green for wind. Sometimes also black or white as the fifth element of “void” to hold them together, though I guess that’d be the sword itself in his case.’ He sighed again, sounding deeply annoyed. ‘Basically, the way this kind of dungeon works is that this door only opens after we – or more to the point, you lot – fight all four of the minibosses. Don’t suppose any of you have a better idea of how to get past this thing?’

Time hesitated, then somewhat grudgingly volunteered, ‘We could try the elevator. Back in my era at least, I seem to recall there being an underground passageway leading in this direction.’

‘Worth a shot, I guess,’ Legend agreed without much enthusiasm. And indeed, two rather slow elevator rides later – the structure unfortunately lacking the capacity to carry three hylians and two animals at once – it quickly became clear that no underground shortcuts would be made available. A solid wall barred the way ahead, while the two exits, one shaded red and the other in green, meandered off to the left and right and further down into the temple. Operating off some form of dungeon logic that Wild was not privy to, Time attempted to push one of the supporting pillars in a clockwise direction, only for it to predictably not budge an inch. Meanwhile, Hyrule patiently tapped the pommel of his sword against the wall, Twilight and Legend went sniffing around the perimeter and Wild used his stasis and magnesis runes to scout for hidden doors.

Alternate avenues exhausted and several minutes wasted, Wild reluctantly stated, ‘I don’t think we’re going to be able to cheat this one after all.’

Twilight barked his assent and Hyrule nodded regretfully. In a quiet tone, the latter remarked, ‘It looks like all the passageways are colour-coded though, so we should be able to tell which way leads to which boss. Umm… what order do you think we should fight them in, Lege?’

‘Why the fuck are you asking me? Not as if I’ll be the one fighting,’ Legend replied sourly.

Hyrule’s tentative posture shrivelled that little bit more, and Wild bristled in response. ‘Don’t be a jerk, Lege,’ he snapped. ‘He’s trying to help.’

Legend flinched. ‘H-huh?’

Hyrule shook his head quickly. ‘It’s fine. All I meant was that, umm, you have the most experience with… with dungeons. Out of all of us. So, I just thought you might have a suggestion. That’s all. Sorry.’

‘Whoa, no, don’t be – no, I’m the one who – I just –’ Legend stuttered. ‘Uh… Manhandla first. Purple, that is. Then whatever the red poe thing is. Then the blue one. Arrghus. Leave Mothula, the green one, for last. Swap out items in between each.’

Twilight tilted his head and barked a query, and Legend obligingly explained, ‘Manhandla is probably the easiest or second easiest miniboss, but you need to be quick on your feet, so it’s better to fight it while we still have energy. Use your boomerangs on the heads – or if you don’t have one, borrow the boomerang from upstairs. I’m not actually sure what the poe thing is, but the fire rod is probably a good choice, or light magic, if you can cast it. I put that one second, because I can’t say for sure how dangerous it is; might be a breeze, might be a pain. Arrghus, on the other hand, is somewhat predictable: it’s tough and it hits hard, but it’s slow moving, especially in its first phase. Good idea to fight it after a warmup. Take the gripshot if you need one.’

‘And the last one?’ Time prompted when Legend paused.

‘Mothula,’ Legend replied. ‘Focus on damage-dealing items, ideally ranged ones, or grab the pegasus boots or feather for mobility. It’s not that much of a threat combat-wise, but it is poisonous, and the poison is no joke. That’s why I’d put that one at the end of the list: if any of us end up breathing too much powder in, we’re gonna want to be well on our way out. Trust me.’

Time winced. He reached absently for his pouch, and remarked, ‘Wind did give me some antitoxin, just in case. But I’d rather not test it out. Let’s go with Legend’s suggestion.’

‘Right. Upstairs, then,’ Legend agreed.

He hopped over to the elevator and sat down. Unresponsive to his slight weight, embarrassed bristling notwithstanding, the elevator considerately waited for Wild and Hyrule to also pile in before carrying the three of them upstairs and then returning for the remaining party members.

Wild took the opportunity to cast an analytical gaze over Hyrule, still surreptitiously glancing at Legend at exactly the wrong interval to catch each of Legend’s own surreptitious glances. And perhaps Wild had been a little too quick to interject earlier, but this? This was… kind of foolish, really.

‘You two are kind of foolish, huh?’ Wild remarked, having notably never engaged in such foolishness himself.

(Somewhere, in another era, the former princess of Hyrule jolted as she experienced a sudden, inexplicable surge of rage.)

There were a mirrored pair of quick, deeply unwarranted double-takes as Hyrule and Legend each realised which specific kind-of-foolish duo Wild’s proclamation referred to. ‘Excuse you?’ Legend said suspiciously.

‘I’m picking you up now,’ Wild announced in response.

When the bemused bun bun made no move to escape, Wild carefully scooped him up, pausing briefly to nuzzle his face against that oh-so-soft pink fur before reluctantly depositing said bun bun into his successor’s bemused embrace.

Hyrule looked at Wild. Hyrule looked down, wonderingly, at the small animal cradled against his chest. Hyrule looked up at Wild. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, what?’ said Legend.

Wild indulged in another quick stroke of Legend’s fur, followed by ruffling his previously established timeline-twin-younger-brother’s equally fluffy hair. ‘Hyrule needs a hug,’ he informed the former. To the latter, he added, ‘And Legend’s poor fast-twitch glycolytic muscles are probably very tired by now. You should carry him.’

‘My poor what now?’ Legend said blankly, once again demonstrating his lack of access to ancient Sheikah pocket compendiums full of ancient Sheikah bun bun factoids.

‘Well, you see,’ Wild lectured, ‘some types of muscles are suited to marathon endurance, whereas others are built for brief bursts of high speed, and speedy widdle bun buns like you tend to have a high ratio of the – oh, there’s Time and Twilight, now.’

‘The fuck did you just call me?’ Legend demanded, but Wild was already seizing the boomerang from a nearby stone plinth and rushing towards the stairs, thoroughly ignoring the returning shivers as the last of the spicy elixir’s effect slowly faded.

It was fine; he was fine.

‘Let’s go kill Manhandla!’ he called gaily over his shoulder.

He didn’t wait for a response.

Brows furrowed, Hyrule stared after Wild for a long moment. ‘Is he… ok, do you think?’ he asked hesitantly.

‘Yeah, no, definitely not,’ Legend confirmed. ‘Time?’

‘On it,’ Time responded, giving a slight nod as he and Twilight hurried after their stray companion.

That left Hyrule, still clutching his transformed predecessor to his chest. He took a few automatic steps forward, then belatedly halted to ask, ‘Oh, are you… ok with me carrying you, Legend? If you’d rather I didn’t –’

‘No. It’s fine,’ Legend said quickly. ‘Honestly, I am a bit… tired. And actually, I should… umm…’ He paused to draw breath and then mumbled, ‘Sorry.’

Hyrule blinked. ‘What?’

In a rush, Legend replied, ‘I said I’m sorry. Look. Just. It’s been a long day and this whole situation sucks, but that doesn’t mean I get to be an ass about it. What I said back in the maze, and then down in the basement. Just. You’re a good kid. You deserve better.’

Hyrule paused, considered, and then lifted Legend up against his neck in a close embrace, deciding that if Legend wasn’t going to complain about it then Hyrule was damn well going to take all the bun bun cuddles he wanted. ‘I’m not a kid, you know,’ he said half-heartedly. ‘I’m sixteen and a half. Practically an adult.’

‘Practically Wild’s age, that is,’ Legend pointed out, not without warmth. ‘Besides, there’s nothing wrong with being a kid. Enjoy it while it lasts. You’ll be all grown up in no time.’

Irritation sparked. ‘You say that, but you’re not that much older, you know. Three years, if that.’

‘Three years is three years,’ Legend grumbled. ‘That’s three entire lifespans to a rabbit, you know?’

Hyrule flinched. ‘They only live that long?!’

Legend made an odd squeaking sound. ‘Wild rabbits, yeah. Longer if they’re really lucky. But Hylians transformed into rabbits are a different story, so don’t go killing me off just yet.’

‘Who said anything about killing you off?’ Hyrule bit out.

‘Yeah. On that…’ Legend coughed. ‘Little tight there, Roolie.’

‘O-oh.’ Hyrule sheepishly relaxed his grip, lowered Legend into a more comfortable cradle hold and continued walking.

There were a few blade traps and a cluster of weak monsters in the room immediately beyond the central chamber. Hyrule stayed back as the others fought, with Wild testing out his new boomerang while the others stuck to their sword and teeth. The room after that held some sort of block puzzle, but since Hyrule’s hands remained full and his companions still seemed to have things under control, he left them to resolve the matter while he instead continued to absentmindedly stroke Legend’s fur.

‘Say. Roolie,’ Legend ventured after a while. ‘What Wild said before about you needing a hug… I mean, you can have one whenever you want, whether you strictly need it or not, but… are you doing alright, there?’

It was enough to jolt Hyrule out of his daze. ‘Me?’ he asked.

‘You,’ Legend said impatiently. ‘C’mon, ’Rule. Like I said earlier, transformed or not I’m still your predecessor, and you’re still my successor. I care about you, and I’m here for you. Talk to me, alright?’

‘Oh,’ said Hyrule, deflating a little. ‘Right.’

He’d misunderstood Legend’s apology, it seemed. Not an apology for what he’d said, but for how he’d said it.

Not that it mattered, Hyrule supposed. He shouldn’t feel so disappointed. It wasn’t as if Legend had said anything wrong, he’d just… been a little more direct than usual about the nature of their relationship.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Time swung his claymore through an unusually solid and agile wallmaster, only for it to split, with a poof of unpleasant black smoke, into three tiny, crawling copies of itself. Hyrule cast a keen eye over his own surroundings before answering, ‘It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I just… I just missed you, you know.’

‘…You missed me?’

There was an odd note in Legend’s voice, and Hyrule bristled in response. ‘Yeah. I missed you,’ he said defensively. ‘It’s fine; you don’t have to miss me or anything, but I missed you. A lot.’

‘Whoa – hey,’ Legend said quickly. He pressed his head against Hyrule’s chest in a soothing motion. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it, just… I didn’t realise that much time had passed. Wasn’t it only a day or so that I was gone?’

‘“Only a day”?’ Hyrule repeated sourly. ‘Fine. Yes. But I’m a needy moron, and I missed you. And I was worried that something bad had happened to you. Maybe you think that’s stupid, but if you don’t want to hear it, then don’t ask.’

‘Hey, no, I don’t think you’re stupid, or needy or anything like that,’ Legend argued. ‘Look, just… the wording threw me off, but I get it. I would’ve been worried too, if I was in your shoes.’ His tone softened. ‘Sorry, Roolie. I didn’t mean to disappear like that.’

Hyrule slumped as the sharp sting of hurt faded into melancholy. ‘It’s not your fault,’ he replied quietly.

‘Alright, fine. But as soon as I figure out who dropped me here, they’re getting a good-old arse kicking,’ Legend informed him, in an unsuccessful attempt to draw some levity back into the conversation. He then considered his own words, and added more seriously, ‘I wonder why they did that.’

A startled bark from Twilight gave Hyrule enough warning to leap away from the second wallmaster. The lupine hero dove in, seized the mottled, clawed monstrosity and managed to toss it back to the others. Still clutching Legend to his chest, Hyrule watched the fight with distant calm.

‘There has to be something at the end of this dungeon, right?’ he told Legend. ‘Presumably that’s why you were sent to this place.’

‘As bait for you and the others?’ Legend surmised disgustedly. ‘I don’t like it, but you’re probably right.’

‘I never said you were bait,’ Hyrule replied. Moodily, he continued, ‘If we weren’t here, you probably would’ve already cleared the dungeon by now, wouldn’t you?’

‘Seriously?’ Legend said incredulously. ‘You think I could fight Manhandla like this?’

‘Probably, yeah. If you wanted to. Or you would’ve found some way to get around it. You are the Hero of Legend, after all,’ Hyrule answered. He snorted. ‘I mean, think about it: how big was Onox compared to you? How big was Ganon? You still beat them. What’s some silly little plant monster compared to that?’

‘At least I had a fucking sword for those two,’ Legend bit out.

‘You mean this sword?’ Hyrule pointed over his shoulder. ‘The one that’s right here, that you refuse to take back because you’re trying to protect me? That sword?’

Legend went quiet for a moment. Hyrule let him stew, instead watching their companions chase after a small horde of scuttling wallmaster juniors.

‘Are you… angry at me?’ Legend asked eventually.

Yes.

The response rose automatically to Hyrule’s lips, because yes: he was angry. Hell, he was furious. Beneath all the fear and panic of chasing down his predecessor, of trying and failing to find out just how injured he really was or how much pain he was in – how much pain he’d seemingly normalised, to the extent of not even caring about the pain he was in – of watching him push through and surpass every limit Hyrule expected to trip him up, even if a small, spiteful part of Hyrule selfishly wished he would just collapse already, beneath all that was more anger than Hyrule really knew how to handle.

He hadn’t been lying: Manhandla or no, there was no doubt in Hyrule’s mind that Legend would’ve found a way through the dungeon by himself if he’d had to. Sure, he’d probably be in danger and in pain and pulling ridiculous, death-defying schemes that Hyrule could hardly imagine, but he would’ve managed. And then he would’ve swaggered, bloodied but victorious, all the way back to the others, and Hyrule would’ve panicked and tried to heal him. And then Legend would’ve fought him off and told him to conserve his magic and Hyrule would’ve all but lost his mind with rage, and Legend would’ve eventually just given up and sat there with an indulgent, affectionate smile, letting his ridiculous little successor play around with healing spells as much as he wanted.

Hyrule looked over at Time, directing each of the others as they worked to finish off every last monster in the room without Hyrule’s help. He thought of that same hero from his own timeline, and how that hero had died young, fighting off a greater evil than the world before him had ever seen: an evil that stretched across the ages, all the way from his own era to Legend’s to Hyrule’s and eventually to Wild’s in the distant future.

Hyrule had been so quick to scorn that hero, despite the fact that Legend looked up to him above all others. Despite the fact that Hyrule himself had struggled against Ganon, had barely emerged victorious – if the curse he carried with him could even be called a victory – and even knowing that it wasn’t just some faceless nobody that had died, but instead kind, gentle, fatherly Time, Hyrule still couldn’t manage to fully purge himself of that spark of jealousy: both towards the long-dead hero Legend looked up to, and towards the version of him that had somehow survived. The one that Legend still looked up to in a way that he didn’t look up to Hyrule.

Maybe Hyrule really was still a child, after all.

He sighed and drew Legend close once again. ‘I am a little angry,’ he conceded, ‘but mostly I just love you very, very much. Far more than you realise.’

‘Oh.’ Legend went still and quiet for a long moment before turning in to nuzzle at Hyrule’s cheek in an echo of his embrace. ‘Oh, Roolie, I love you too. Love you heaps. I hope you know that.’

The scuttling noises nearby finally subsided with a short bark and a weak cheer. Wild whistled and beckoned to Hyrule as Time began to lead the way upstairs.

‘That said,’ Legend added sheepishly, ‘on the off chance that you’re secretly a lot angry and in desperate need of a screaming session with the repeating room: I’m sure that can be arranged.’

Hyrule considered. ‘After Manhandla,’ he decided.

Chapter Text

The wooden door at the top of the staircase opened up into a wide, circular chamber. Shards of dull orange light filtered down through the large cracks in the domed ceiling, pierced by the branches of a ring of trees along the wall and a larger one that grew at the centre with huge, twisting roots partially submerged within a murky pool of violet-tinged water.

A few paces into the room, a sturdy iron portcullis slammed down behind them: as clear a sign as any that Time and his companions had reached their destination. With one final, reluctant pet and a stern glare, Hyrule placed his predecessor down near the entrance and turned to the front, drawing his boomerang in a single rapid flick. Wild copied the motion from Time’s other side, unfortunately reminding Time of that one minor issue with his own equipment that he’d somehow managed to forget, in between worrying over Wild, worrying over Hyrule and Legend and also, as usual, worrying over Twilight.

(And maybe, occasionally, a little worrying over the others back at Twilight’s house too. There were plenty of budding grey hairs to go around, really.)

As he drew his sword and stepped in front of the others, Time’s thoughts strayed to the bemused, vaguely pitying gaze that a certain Captain Link of the Hyrulean army had once levelled at the toy boomerang his younger self had wielded. Perhaps if present-day Time had thought ahead, he might have found an opportunity since then to acquire some other ranged weapon suited to tearing through the thick, fibrous armour of an oversized plant monster. For the moment, his sword would just have to do.

‘Shit,’ Legend suddenly hissed from behind them, ‘it’s fucking huge.’

Time spared him a quick, confused glance, followed by an equally confused glance over the rest of the chamber (even in such a large room, there were surely only so many places a “fucking huge” monster could hide), before his unspoken question was answered by a warning creak from ahead.

The tree at the centre of the room was moving, slowly at first and then gaining speed. Near the ground, thick sheets of old, dry bark sloughed away from a wine-coloured core, while above, long branches flexed questioningly against the stone ceiling. For a brief moment, the shifting and stretching all halted, until, with an unearthly shriek and a mighty thrash, the central part of the ceiling shattered, raining down deadly chunks of masonry that Time and his companions all lunged back to avoid. As the dust finally settled, eight bulbous heads curved downwards, turning their grinning, sightless faces on the tiny figures below.

Time bit back a curse.

The Manhandla he had fought back in Warriors’s era had been a four-headed beast just slightly smaller than his old treehouse. This one towered above them, bearing twice as many snapping mouths complete with wickedly sharp teeth. Little clouds of purple mist puffed around each set of jaws, reminding Time of that wise suggestion from Legend to save the poisonous monster for last.

Nothing for it, he supposed.

Hyrule recovered first, sending his boomerang flying with a sharp flick of his wrist, only for it to ricochet harmlessly off the tough hide of the Manhandla. He scrambled to catch the weapon, lurching back as the monster’s gaping jaws rocketed towards him. Belatedly, Legend yelled, ‘Wait for it to open its mouth, then attack!’

Right on cue, a different head lunged at Time. Slow to react, he clumsily raised his shield, only to trip and fall as Twilight’s jaws closed around his leather bracer and dragged him firmly from harm’s way.

Twin boomerangs whistled past, each striking home. The targeted heads drooped, long purple tongues flopping dazedly across the ground. A third quickly joined – more likely than not an accidental blow dealt as Wild’s weapon returned to its owner.

The Manhandla twitched and creaked as each of the remaining heads strained towards the group of heroes, giving Time a brief moment to hope it couldn’t actually reach, until, with a raucous cracking sound and a splash of murky water, the thick roots pulled right out of the ground and started to scuttle forwards.

Fantastic.

Stifling a sigh, Time took advantage of the pause and plunged his sword directly into the spot where the closest stunned head met its stem, taking some minor satisfaction in the way all of the other heads shrieked in response. Copying the move, Hyrule managed to land a strike of his own just as the Manhandla pulled away.

A grunt from the side caught Time’s attention as a clumsily timed shield bash sent both Wild and the closest Manhandla head staggering back from each other. With a savage snarl, Twilight leaped forwards and closed his jaws around the stem, only to growl in frustration as the mouthful of dense plant matter refused to yield. The Manhandla shook itself once, twice, and the wolf went flying. Time gave a desperate yell and lunged to catch his successor, resulting in a frantic tumble and several bruises but hopefully no broken bones.

Amidst the diversion, the Manhandla scuttled back, hissing and snarling from its uninjured heads. In a swift, fluid motion, those serpentine branches arrayed themselves in an even pattern, reared back, and –

Jolting with sudden recognition, Time yelled a warning and seized Wild and Hyrule around the shoulders, dropping the three of them into a huddle around Twilight – and then hastily, exasperatedly, snatching up the small, fluffy creature that had dashed protectively to the front of their cluster as well. A glimmering cerulean shield flickered into place around the whole group, rabbit included, just as a barrage of seeds and a spray of purple fluid erupted from each of the Manhandla’s wide open jaws. Each of the seeds burst into flame as they struck the magical barrier, producing enough heat for Time to sense it even through his shield. He gritted his teeth and held his stance.

‘Fire and poison?’ he grunted. ‘That’s surely cheating.’

One or another of the adjacent gremlins gave a hum of scientific intrigue, which Time chose, for the sake of his sanity, to ignore.

As the bombardment finally concluded, Twilight nudged him and gave a few sharp barks. ‘Drop the shield, old man,’ Legend translated hastily. ‘If there’s ever a time to attack, it’s now.’

Time cast a brief, wary glance over the smoking projectiles and thinning haze of purple mist before reluctantly letting the barrier fall. Wild and Hyrule immediately dashed forwards and tossed their boomerangs, followed by several glowing blue bombs from Wild’s Sheikah Slate for good measure. There was a keening noise, and then every branch slumped downwards, revealing a bright red crystal embedded in the trunk.

‘The core,’ Time murmured. With a huff of exertion, he dragged himself upright, produced his bow and set a spark of magic into an arrow, distantly noting the unhappy creaking from his magic reserves. The arrow bloomed bright as he sent it streaking across the chamber, exploding as it hit its mark with a burst of light and a loud glassy chime. That might have finished things, but if not, the two swords and fifty-odd kilograms of wolf that slammed in afterwards likely helped.

With one last desperate thrash and a feeble wail, the Manhandla stilled. Shadows crept over its surface, dissipating in a sudden burst of black smoke. The withered, ashy remains collapsed into brittle driftwood, scattered across the surface of a newly-pristine, faintly glimmering spring.

The iron portcullis lifted once again.

‘Well,’ Legend panted, seemingly determined to ruin the moment, ‘that’s one down.’

Thankfully, the fight had ended largely without incident and with no injuries beyond a few small scuffs and bruises. Time had nonetheless suggested a short break: ostensibly to monitor for any ill-effects from the Manhandla’s poison, though Twilight also caught the way that single eye drifted over each of them in turn, lingering on the pale, wobbly Hero of the Wild, and, with the warning glint of an upcoming lecture, on the dishevelled, dust-coated and deeply smug Hero of Legend.

The latter had of course responded with a bright and cheery “Great! Back in a moment, then!” and ran off, inexplicably, to climb one the trees that ringed the chamber (chased shortly after by his irritated predecessor and long-suffering successor), while the former had just as predictably wheezed out some pedantic monologue about the difference between venomous and poisonous defence mechanisms, between contact toxins and inhaled ones and whatever other such nonsense, at which point Twilight had knocked him over and sat on him, drawing the debate to a blessedly efficient conclusion.

There were, indeed, a few advantages to being a large, heavy four-legged creature.

…And, admittedly, a few notable disadvantages as well.

Case in point.

‘Wiggle, wiggle. Wiggle, wiggle,’ intoned Wild, solemn as a pallbearer, as he tugged Twilight’s furry ears up and down, side to side.

Now, bun bun-induced brain liquification was one thing, but really there was nothing in the shape or size of a fully grown, adult wolf to justify this kind of behaviour, even allowing for Wild’s weird tastes (no, Twilight had not forgotten Mama Snuffles, nor Wild’s frankly offensive lack of interest in the Outskirt Stable’s adorable furbaby of a Hylian retriever). A couple of pets and maybe an odd nose-boop here and there? Sure. He was a furry animal; Twilight could acknowledge that much, though he really thought the novelty would have worn off at some point (for Wild, at least. Sure, Twilight might have indulged a little more, but that was beside the point). And sure, maybe Twilight had started it by throwing his weight around just a little, for all that he had intended to relent as soon as Wild had learned his lesson, listened to his elders and sat the fuck down… but this?

This situation?

This was a battle of wills.

And Twilight would not lose.

To Wild’s credit, it took an upsetting amount of time for the young hero to tire of his little game. With the soldierly stoicism of a man-turned-wolf well-practised in dealing with squirmy, grabby children – of which Wild was surely just a particularly squirmy, particularly persistent and particularly teenaged one – Twilight waited it out, until, thank Ordona, his companion finally let go of Twilight’s ears and instead leaned over to bury his face and arms into Twilight’s ruff.

‘Hey Twi,’ a muffled voice announced thoughtfully, ‘did you know that you’re really warm?’

Twilight snorted, charmed despite himself. Obligingly, he curled in around Wild, neck against neck, giving a slight displeased grumble as he registered the chill of the other’s own skin.

‘Like… really, really warm,’ Wild went on after a moment. ‘Maybe you’re onto something with that pelt human you is always wearing. I kinda want one.’

Twilight made a noise of unhappy agreement and brushed his head against Wild’s neck, hoping to warm him a little with the friction even if he currently had no pelts to offer beyond the one stuck to his own body. The kid was already wearing two cloaks and a tunic; how was he still so cold?

‘What? It’s not like I’m gonna skin you specifically or anything,’ Wild protested unexpectedly. ‘There are a bunch of wolves in my Hyrule, and most of them aren’t nearly this friendly. Unless there’s some sort of treaty between you and the general wolf population that I need to be aware of? Would you prefer I find another bear instead?’

‘I’d really rather you didn’t,’ Twilight stated flatly. As usual, it came out as a mess of canine growls and whining.

‘No, hold on – you’re not going vegetarian on me, are you?!’ Wild accused suddenly, drawing back to look Twilight in the eyes. ‘I mean, I can cater to that, but it means you’ll be missing out on Hyrule’s best venison curry. Not to say it isn’t good with pumpkin too, of course. Or carrots. Both, even.’ He paused, considering. ‘Mmm… but, see, the best option is ostrich, if you can get it. Means a whole side trip to Death Mountain, and hunting them’s a bit of a pain too, but the flavour – oh. Wait. That’s also meat. So, was that a yay or nay on the whole only-eating-grass thing?’

Culinary homily successfully delivered, Wild waited patiently for a response. Twilight, meanwhile, waited patiently for the other hero to start making sense.

The seconds ticked by.

‘Are you, perhaps… delirious?’ Twilight ventured at last.

It was unlikely that Wild understood the question, but maybe something of Twilight’s bemusement translated across. In response, Wild heaved a sigh and grumbled back, ‘Fine. I’ll shut up.’ True to his word, he tugged his hood over his head, flopped back down over the wolf in his lap and went quiet and still.

As the silence stretched on, Twilight glanced over at the trees, locating the little pink rabbit still clambering around the branches, pursued by the surprisingly agile armour-clad Hero of Time, while Hyrule waited helplessly below. The slight wind was blowing in exactly the wrong direction for even a wolf’s sharp ears to make out the conversation, but none of the three looked to be in any particular hurry to leave. With that being the case, Twilight shifted himself off of Wild’s lap and nudged the other hero decisively into a more comfortable resting position against his side, delicately applying his teeth to the task of ensuring that Wild’s two cloaks properly covered his legs.

After a while, Wild spoke again. ‘Sorry, by the way,’ he uttered quietly. ‘For before, with the whole, uh, wolf thing, and uh… well.’ He gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. ‘Flora says I have a habit of rambling these days. That is… she didn’t exactly phrase it like that, but I think she was a bit… I mean, considering the me from back then… that version of me didn’t… well…’

Frowning as Wild’s gloomy tone dipped further into melancholy, Twilight waited for him to finish the thought. Several seconds passed, and Twilight was just starting to wonder if Wild had fallen asleep when the other hero startled and scrambled upright, gasping for air. His wide, disoriented eyes scanned over the scene, and he gave a second jolt as he registered Twilight’s presence, lurching away with a soft cry and fumbling for his sword, even as Twilight flattened himself to the ground and tried to look as unthreatening as he possibly could.

Several more blinks cleared the residual haze from Wild’s stare. He gave a sharp, stressed exhale followed by a murmured apology. The half-drawn blade dropped back into its sheath as he turned back towards their three absent companions and muttered, ‘We’re wasting time here.’ Decision seemingly made, he set out at a brisk walk, with Twilight trotting dutifully after.

It was only as they approached that Twilight registered Hyrule’s tense posture, and the way his voice had pitched upwards in stress. ‘– Absolute last thing we need right now,’ he was arguing heatedly.

The breeze swallowed up most of Time’s quiet, measured response. ‘– Risky,’ Twilight heard him muse. ‘Are you sure –?’

‘As you say – its own risks,’ Legend responded calmly. ‘Keep in mind –’

‘Hey!’ Wild called abruptly. Legend, Time and Hyrule all jumped and turned their gazes his way. ‘We just gonna sit around here all day, or what? Weren’t we trying to get back before sundown or something?’

There was a brief pause. Time glanced at the two closest to him, then over to Wild and Twilight in turn. Carefully, he set Legend down on a branch and then slid down from the tree, raising his arms once again after a long moment spent watching the stranded rabbit stare speculatively at the vertical chasm of its own making, much like a non-tree-climbing creature forced to confront its dubious life choices.

‘You’re right. We should set out,’ Time agreed, idly petting the small, fluffy creature cradled in his arms (Legend promptly bit the leather part of his gauntlet, which had no discernible effect). ‘Assuming the two of you are good to keep moving, that is?’

‘We’re fine,’ Wild said impatiently. ‘I told you we didn’t have to worry about poison.’

Oh. Right. Poison. Twilight had almost forgotten about that.

Time continued to scrutinise the two of them for a few more moments, then sighed. ‘Then let’s head back to the main room. We can talk more as we go.’

With the monsters on their path already taken care of, the return trip was merely a long and boring walk back down several twisting corridors and staircases, which gave Wild far too much time to think and far too little to keep him grounded in the present moment. He flexed his toes and ran his hands over the old, polished balustrade, focusing on the weave of his socks and the bubbles in the varnish until the way ahead lost a little more of its dreamy, unreal haze. Only a little, but he’d take it.

It was just going to be one of those days, he supposed.

Most of the time, the memories of Wild’s former life seemed content enough to rest quiet in his muscles and bones, guiding him on the proper way to hold a spear or time a parry without intruding too heavily on his day to day life. At other times, larger pieces slipped through in distressingly vivid visions that might lose him anywhere from a few seconds to a few hours. He couldn’t help but hate those moments, even with the sharp pang of guilt that told him that he should remember, and should want those memories to return. That he owed it to Zelda and his old friends to at least try.

And then there were Wild’s least favourite moments, when past and present blurred together in a dreary haze and neither felt truly real.

If he had been back home in his own era with nothing urgent to do, he might have written things off entirely at that point, instead curling up for a rare full-day’s rest, either in his bed back in Hateno Village, or in whichever stable happened to be the closest and least inclined to ask questions or demand an explanation. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option for the moment, so his sluggish brain and tired limbs would just have to keep up, whether they liked it or not.

He wasn’t sure how many seconds or minutes had passed by the time their leader spoke up once more. ‘Say. Pup. Cub,’ Time began.

The words took a little longer than usual to register. ‘Yes?’ Wild replied dully, drained of the energy to argue against the ridiculous nickname.

Time’s eye tightened slightly as their gazes met. ‘Legend, Hyrule and I were discussing something earlier,’ he explained. ‘I’d like to hear your opinions as well.’

Wild forced himself to focus. ‘Our opinions on what?’ he asked.

‘On whether we should stick together for safety, or split up to try to get through the dungeon faster.’

Wild stared at him. ‘Split up?’ he repeated confusedly.

Something about that calm statement felt… out of place. At least, coming from Time. Twilight seemed to agree, giving a sharp, incredulous bark. From his position in Time’s arms, Legend scoffed and clarified, ‘Obviously, no one would be completely on their own. We’d split up into a pair and a trio to fight the next two bosses, then regroup to tackle the final one together.

‘It’s certainly riskier, but from what we’ve seen so far, I don’t think it’s an unreasonable risk,’ he went on. ‘We haven’t fought anything black-blooded yet, and although the Manhandla was bigger than what I’ve seen before, I think that’s just due to its age.’

‘Its age?’ Wild mused. His mind woke up that little bit more as he unhooked his Sheikah Slate and flicked curiously over to the compendium section, opening up the newest entry.

‘Well, yeah,’ Legend continued heedlessly. ‘If I’m right: this place has remained untouched for a very, very long time. Plant monsters like that just keep growing if you let them. But the same isn’t necessarily true of the other monsters. I’m pretty sure –’

‘Wild,’ Time cut in wearily, ‘is that, by any chance, a photo of the Manhandla we were just fighting?’

Wild gave a guilty flinch. It occurred to him, briefly, to maybe deny the accusation, before he grudgingly uttered, ‘force of habit’, and swivelled his slate around to display the compendium’s assessment:

Elder Manhandla (Ember Variant), the slate noted. This organic construct, crafted through a combination of alchemy and sorcery, was originally developed as a means of safeguarding the ancient Temple of Time from invading forces. It has since become a popular security fixture for light and dark magic users alike. This ember variant wields the power of flame and is highly resistant to fire.

Over a thousand years of uninterrupted growth have allowed this particular construct to achieve a rare and impressive size, resulting in a significant boost to both its offensive and defensive might compared to common Manhandlas.

‘Huh,’ said Legend. ‘Guess I was right, then. That’s pretty useful.’

Twilight barked irritably.

‘Also, you probably shouldn’t take pictures while we’re fighting. Dangerous, and all that,’ Legend appended, eyes skating dishonestly to the side. ‘In any case. It’s possible the other bosses will be similarly large and powerful, but they might also have been replaced over time. Undead monsters don’t typically have a use-by date, but they may gradually weaken if enough time passes. On the other hand, I’m not so sure that an Arrghus or Mothula can actually live that long.’

‘So, in other words: we have no idea what to expect,’ Hyrule concluded, sounding frustrated. ‘Why would we split up, with that being the case?’

Legend’s ears flicked. ‘Well. “No idea” is a stretch, don’t you think?’ he said defensively. ‘I’ve fought similar monsters before, and my advice from before still stands. As I said: Arrghus hits hard and has some big, flashy attacks, but it moves pretty predictably. So we send the two with the highest defence –’

‘Time and Hyrule,’ Wild said thoughtfully, considering the slow and careful fighting styles of each and their respective magical talents.

‘Exactly,’ Legend confirmed. ‘And meanwhile, the other one is some kind of poe. They tend not to be overly powerful but they can have some nasty tricks, so the ones that face it need to be fast and adaptable. That’s me and you, wild child. And the mutt can spectate, I guess.’

Twilight gave a disgruntled bark, which Legend thoughtfully neglected to translate. Glancing at each of them in turn, then over at mulish Hyrule (Wild was starting to see why he didn’t like this plan), Wild asked, ‘You’re counting yourself in on this, then?’

Legend startled. ‘Oh! Right. I never actually explained that part to you two, did I?’

‘…No?’ Wild said curiously.

The adventuring party took a necessary pause to dodge a few blade traps and so that Hyrule could stab, with deeply unnecessary violence, a stray monster that they had somehow missed the first time through. Wild almost felt bad for the little purple blob as the ruby-encrusted sword converted it mercilessly into a much wider, flatter purple blob.

Threat(?) successfully eliminated, Legend turned his face to Wild and gave a cheeky grin. ‘You wanna see my Manhandla impression?’

Wild blinked. He exchanged a quick, bemused glance with Twilight, then looked back at Legend. ‘Your Manhandla impression?’ he verified.

Legend’s grin widened. ‘Uh huh.’

Hmm.

Well.

‘Yes,’ Wild said plainly. ‘Yes. That is absolutely a thing that I want to see.’

Legend tilted his front paw in a gesture that might’ve been a thumbs up if he had had thumbs. He then dropped his face into the red fabric of his tunic for a moment, emerging with puffed cheeks and a smug expression. Without further preamble, Legend reared back, puffed his cheeks and spat a mouthful of red and brown seeds out onto the ground near Wild. As Twilight danced away with a disgruntled whine and Time himself took a smart backwards step, the tiny cluster impacted with the ancient stone flooring and exploded into a deeply disproportionate amount of flame.

Wild stared for a long moment. ‘What the fuck?’ he said eventually.

‘Ember seeds!’ Legend declared cheerfully. ‘Useful things. We don’t get this kind of tree back in central Hyrule, but this place’d have to be somewhere near the Holodrum border, I figure. Or the Dark World equivalent at least. I had an inkling earlier, seeing all the fire that Manhandla was tossing about, so I figured I’d climb up and check. Jackpot!’ Gleefully, he indicated towards the bulging pockets of his transformed tunic, presumably stuffed with yet more impact-initiated incendiaries. Which was probably not entirely safe as a means of transport, but nonetheless –

‘Shit,’ said Wild. ‘I want those.’

Hyrule sighed and tossed over a small satchel. ‘These are yours. See how much I love you?’ he groused.

Wild cautiously opened the bag, and lo and behold: a veritable cornucopia of pyrotechnical potential. ‘Oh,’ he said, eyes maybe welling up just a bit (it’d been a long day, after all). ‘Oh. You love me a lot.’

Twilight gave a loud, exasperated bark.

‘Fuck you; I’m the best influence,’ Legend informed him loftily.

Twilight growled.

‘No, you’re a walking, talking fire hazard. I, in contrast, am a resourceful veteran hero, newly equipped and back in fucking business. Eat shit, Bow Wow Junior.’

‘Getting back on track, then,’ Time proposed delicately as they continued down the next corridor. Wild paused briefly to scoop up the still-smoking remnants of Legend’s Manhandla impression while he followed after. ‘As Legend says, it may not be overly risky to split up, but I still think it would be safer to stay together. That said… this place is larger than I remember. Much larger than I expected. At our current pace, it’ll still be several hours before we reach the end, which is… not ideal.’ He hesitated, inscrutable gaze lingering on Wild for a long moment, before he continued, ‘We did tell the others we’d try to be back by nightfall. It’s hard to be sure, but I suspect we’ve already missed that. I did of course also tell them not worry or do anything rash, even if we were to –’

Legend snorted. ‘Yeah. That’ll work. Definitely.’

There was a slight edge in Time’s tone as he replied, ‘Four is sick, Warriors and Wind are injured, and Sky knows better than to go haring off on his own. Not to mention that it’d be pitch black out there in the woods. They’re not stupid.’

There was something vaguely sceptical in Legend’s tone as he replied, ‘Then we have until dawn – at best – to finish off here, find a way back to the Light World, and then hopefully find our way back to the rancher’s house. Assuming no one sneaks off in the middle of the night and gets lost, of course.’

Time’s single eye tightened in a silent threat. ‘They had better not,’ was all he said. Setting that small matter aside, he continued, ‘We haven’t encountered anything black-blooded yet, but that doesn’t mean we won’t. We also don’t know for sure what this place is or how and why Legend was brought here. With that being the case, I’m not inclined to split up – but that’s just my own opinion. What do you two think?’

Wild glanced at him uncertainly, then over at each of the others as he waited for someone else to volunteer their thoughts. ‘I’m… fine with whatever?’ he eventually offered hesitantly.

‘Have you no thoughts of your own?’ Zelda’s voice demanded aggressively.

Wild flinched. He dug his fingernails in to his palms, dragging himself back to the present moment. ‘Uh. I mean, I trust your judgement. You’re the boss, and all that.’

Time lifted an eyebrow. ‘Am I?’

Wrong answer.

Something cold ran down Wild’s spine. He corrected his posture, head low, hands clasped behind his back and voice buried deep within his throat, but the anticipated reprimand never arrived. Instead, Time merely sighed, turned to Twilight and asked, ‘Pup?’

Twilight hesitated, then barked at Legend again.

‘Farm boy agrees with picking up the pace, but he says it’s too risky to split up,’ Legend translated. ‘Fair enough, I guess.’

‘So that’s three votes against, one vote in favour,’ Hyrule concluded pointedly.

Legend scowled. ‘Don’t put words in my mouth. Splitting up was the geezer’s idea anyway, remember? All I did was provide a risk assessment.’ Grudgingly, he explained, ‘I know I can be a bit… overprotective, sometimes. Didn’t want you to think I don’t trust you, you know?’

Hyrule halted. ‘Hold on. That’s what you took from what I said before?!’

‘Huh? Well, sure. That, and that I’ve spent way too much time sitting on my arse today. I figure it’s about time I –’

‘Seriously?!’

It wasn’t hard for Wild to tell he was missing context, considering the sharpness of Hyrule’s frustrated glare. But speaking of missing context…

He glanced cautiously at Time and asked, ‘Your idea?’

Time’s single eye met his, expression softening as his free hand carefully lifted Wild’s hood to inspect the face hidden beneath. ‘Still doing alright there, cub?’ he asked gently.

And with that, the pieces finally fell into place.

Of course there was a simple, obvious reason why cautious, patient, protective Time had even humoured the idea of splitting their small party, just to save maybe a few hours of travel. Why he’d bothered to seek Wild’s opinion, of all people, and why Wild was the one he’d kept glancing at throughout the conversation.

Shame twisted in Wild’s throat as he shook off Time’s hand and took a step backwards. ‘I’m fine,’ he said tightly. ‘Never been better.’

It seemed to take the older hero an inordinate amount of time to respond. ‘Alright then, cub. If you say so,’ was all he said in the end.

One minor detour for a concise yet effective (Hyrule seemed to think so, at least) repeating room screaming session and two slow rides of the elevator later, the group of five set out down the red passageway and into the temple basement.

There were relatively few monsters along the way compared to the passage above. Instead, they were given the chance to flex their puzzle solving skills against colour-changing tiles and switches, and for Wild to test out his new ember seeds and borrowed fire rod on a set of torches. It was Hyrule, in the end, that managed to locate a map, hidden behind a bombable wall.

(‘Why are there so many floors? Why are all the rooms all different sizes? How are you supposed to read this?’ the poor hero panicked, until Time tactfully removed the scroll from his clenched hands.)

Eventually, however, they entered a huge, columned rectangular chamber illuminated by four braziers, one at each corner of the room. In the centre was a tall pedestal bearing a strange, decorative mask of stone and silver.

Like clockwork, an iron portcullis slammed down behind them.

As the noise of the locking door faded, there was a whoosh of air and a chorus of unearthly laughter. Each of the torches fizzled out, replaced by scattered pinpricks of weak lantern light, which floated back and forth for several seconds, accompanied by the muted jangling of chains and murmur of distant voices. At the centre, lacelike patterns of fluorescent blue slowly blossomed across the surface of the ornate mask. The carved eyes suddenly lit up in bright orange and red, and the mask began to lift upwards, shaking back and forth as it rose. In response, the aimless movement of the floating lanterns shifted into a dizzying spiral, each muttering voice rising into an inarticulate wail as they were dragged inexorably inwards, towards the glowing mask.

For a moment, everything went still. Then, with a burst of spirit flame, a single huge, ghostly figure flared into view, gave a shrieking laugh and then faded out once more, leaving behind only an eerie blue lantern hovering amidst a sea of darkness.

Wild couldn’t help but falter momentarily as his companions faded into the void. He rallied himself and reached for his borrowed fire rod just as ruby light flared up on either side: Hyrule’s sword, and a small ball of flame held in Time’s hand. Neither Twilight nor Legend were visible, but a low growl close to Wild and the frantic patter of tiny feet further to the right (what was he doing?) revealed their respective positions.

Watching the floating lantern for any sudden movements, Wild reached for his Sheikah Slate. The Stasis Rune gave no reaction to the monster ahead – not a promising sign – though Magnesis picked up a small, pinkish glimmer of metal in each of the four corners of the room. He switched over to the slate’s camera, faltered briefly as he recalled Time’s comment from earlier, then shrugged and snapped a picture for his compendium.

And that, it seemed, was about all the downtime the boss monster was inclined to provide them.

The floating lantern stilled, then shifted to a bright lilac shade as the poe reappeared and took a long, powerful inhale. With a vicious snarl, Twilight lunged forward, only for his shadowed form to slip right through the poe’s body with no effect. On instinct, Wild reached for his shield right as the lantern light shifted to scarlet and burst forth in a searing ray. His parry was perfectly timed: the beam shot back and struck their enemy, who screeched in pain and flew backwards, cringing against the floor for a moment before flickering back out of view. The blue lantern drifted off to the side once more, undeterred by the frustrated growls of the pursuing wolf.

Wild glanced down at his Sheikah Slate’s screen, still open on the newest entry to his compendium. Jalhalla, it stated. This dark artefact was crafted by an ancient tribe of magic users who have long since faded into the shadows of Hyrule’s history. Its original purpose is unknown, yet it is said that an evil spirit now dwells within.

Intriguing, but not particularly useful. Wild filed that one away for later.

A burst of light and a triumphant exclamation dragged Wild’s attention back to the side of the room, where Legend's tiny pink form was crouched smugly before a newly lit brazier. Contrasting the smaller light sources held by Time, Hyrule and Wild himself, the bright orange flames lit up an entire quarter of the room.

There was a sizzling noise and a high pitched wail as the poe – or “Jalhalla”, rather – suddenly reappeared and fell to the floor, looking much more solid than it had before. It lay there, stunned, until Twilight lunged out of the shadows, leapt for its short, stumpy neck and tore at it viciously with his teeth.

There was a loud snap that reminded Wild of a punctured octo balloon, and a crowd of small, colourful figures burst from where Jalhalla had fallen, each clutching a small handheld lantern. They quickly rose to their stumpy feet and toddled frantically back and forth, shrieking in panic. Most of them disappeared quickly into the shadowed parts of the room, calming and quieting as soon as they were out of the light’s radius. Before the remainders could flee, Wild rushed into the brightened area and swung his sword.

The weakened monsters fell apart beneath the blade, offering no more resistance than a piece of paper, but by the time Wild’s remaining companions caught up, every other foe had migrated back to the shadows.

Out in the darkness, two pinpricks of orange and red light suddenly burned bright, and with a powerful whoosh of air, the nearby brazier extinguished itself, plunging the room into darkness once more. A fully-formed Jalhalla spun back into view, shook its pale blue lantern at them and then vanished with another shrieking laugh.

‘We should get the other torches,’ Wild realised.

‘Right you are, wild child,’ Legend agreed. There was a startled yelp from Twilight as the veteran hero added gleefully, ‘Giddy up, then, Spot!’

In the sudden blaze of light that followed, Wild was treated to the unusual sight of a little pink prey animal clinging fiercely to an oversized predator. The wolf in question seemed far less than enthused about the situation, but darted off into the shadows without further argument.

Meanwhile, seemingly wary from their last encounter, Jalhalla lingered in the opposite corner, lantern light flickering as it darted behind pillars along the way. A long, deep breath gave Wild enough warning to produce his shield once again, though it was Time instead that stepped forwards to intercept the beam, in a manoeuvre that bore an eerie similarity to Wild’s own supposedly unique talent.

‘Deflecting a guardian’s attack with nothing more than a pot lid… most impressive.’

Wild forced King Rhoam’s voice from his ears and turned away, stumbling off through the darkness and towards the flash of metal revealed by his Magnesis Rune. If he clipped a pillar or two with his shoulder along the way, he decided that no one really needed to know about that. It was dark, after all.

It was probably fine.

While Hyrule kept the enemy occupied with fireballs launched from his sword – none of them landing a hit, but all seeming to infuriate the giant poe – light flared up at the other end of the room, accompanied by a cheer from the newly formed animal comedy duo. Shortly after, panting from exertion, Wild arrived at the opposite corner and swung his fire rod to ignite the brazier. That left only one section of the room dark: unfortunately, the one inhabited by Jalhalla itself.

In an echo of Hyrule’s own attack, the monster shrieked and let loose a barrage of cherry red missiles that flew upwards and rained down across the room, near impossible to parry. Wild threw himself back clumsily and tripped and fell. Pain twisted up his left arm and he let out an involuntary shout of his own, snatching his scorched hand back and swiftly, agonisingly beat the flames from his clothing.

‘Ouch,’ he remarked dimly, pausing long enough to confirm that his screaming arm was still at least mostly functional before scrambling back to his feet.

“Mostly functional” turned out to be a slight overstatement when it came to retrieving his dropped Sheikah Slate, but it thankfully turned out not to matter: a flaming arrow streaked out from Time’s bow, struck the final brazier and cast the room into stark light. Stunned and vulnerable, the boss monster dropped to the floor. With Legend still clinging to his back, Twilight leapt in and tore the poe apart once more.

Wild hooked his slate back in place, clumsily swapped his fire rod for a sword and did his part to thin the nearby herd of frenzied, chattering poes. None of them put up much – or any, really – of a fight; a boon, it occurred to him, as he looked over at his distant companions and belatedly realised that rushing off on his own might not have been the smartest idea he had ever had.

All too soon, wind whistled past his ears and the light disappeared once again. Thrown off-balance, Wild wobbled unsteadily and fell forwards: right on top of his newly singed arm.

And there, all of a sudden, he was, back on Blatchery Plain, with Zelda screaming and crying for him to run, to save himself –

Wild slapped himself hard across both cheeks, jolting his burnt arm once again. Switching to the non-burnt arm, he forced himself up onto his feet.

Jalhalla. Right. There was an enemy present, and he was supposed to be fighting it. It was hard to focus, but Link was relatively sure that that much was true.

There were flames falling all around him, but the air felt cold. Every sound was muted, even the Princess’ voice. He sucked in a breath and looked up.

It was dark where he stood. There were warm orange lights further off, but they only served to silhouette the figure that loomed before him. For a moment, he thought it was a hinox, but no: the monster had two, not one, bright and unblinking orange eyes that leered down at Link, freezing him where he stood.

A rush of air and a muffled bark were all the warning he received before a cold sensation flooded his entire body, driving every thought from his mind. It seemed to go on and on forever, until he couldn’t tell where he was, what he was doing, whether he was awake or asleep or whether he was alive or dead.

Distantly, Link felt the fingers of his sword hand slacken. The blade slipped from his grasp and clattered across the darkened floor.

There was a streak of brightness overhead. His knees buckled, and he fell onto something soft and warm.

Chapter Text

‘The Hero of Warriors seemed a little frightened of me. I couldn’t help but notice.’

Sky startled from his churning thoughts and looked over at Queen Zelda – or Dusk, rather, being the nickname Wind had apparently granted her – as they made their way down the pebbled path to Ordon Village. He spared a quick glance to Shad and Ashei, trailing several steps behind, then looked down at the stubbornly silent crystal pendant still clutched in his right hand. ‘Sorry,’ he replied belatedly, ‘we’re… a little on edge, right now. But I’m sure he didn’t mean to offend you. Uh – Your Majesty, that is.’

‘Hero of the Sky,’ Dusk said dryly, ‘this is Ordon Province, not Hyrule Castle. And even if we were somewhere that made those titles necessary… let’s just say I’m not fond of forcing others to bow against their will. I’ve done plenty of my own share.’

A spark of curiosity bit through Sky’s exhausted haze. ‘Your own share?’

Dusk nodded, and explained, as calmly as if she were talking about the weather, ‘Hyrule fell, not too long ago. I was crown princess at the time, and took command after my parents’ deaths… for a short time, at least. Truthfully, it didn’t take long at all for the last of our defences to crumble.’ She paused, gaze distant. ‘It was after your time, I suppose, but the Hyrule Kingdom that Link and I know was once built upon a foundation of military might. These days, right or wrong, our army is but a shadow of a shadow of its former self. We never really stood a chance.’

She glanced back at Sky as she spoke, taking in his undoubtedly blank and confused expression. Her lip quirked up slightly. ‘Have I lost you already?’ she asked lightly.

Sky flushed. ‘Uh – well. We don’t really have armies in my time,’ he explained sheepishly. ‘Or kings or queens, for that matter. Unless you count the Demon King and his army.’

‘Or unless we counted you,’ Dusk said easily. ‘Hylia’s own army of one. Or so the legends say.’

Sky gave her a suspicious look. ‘Are you making fun of me right now?’

‘Of course not,’ Dusk replied immediately. ‘I only meant to explain how things tend to operate at the times when a hero isn’t here to save us.

‘Back then, when it happened to me, my parents were dead, along with so many others I’d come to know and trust, and I sat there in the throne room, hiding, like a coward, behind our very last line of defence. And I watched that evil man – the enemy commander – draw close.

‘He stopped right before me, and he offered me a choice: “Surrender or die”.’ Dusk gave another small, humourless laugh. ‘Of course, at the time I thought, “Goodness, how lucky. I thought he would just kill us!”

‘And perhaps it should have been a difficult decision… perhaps I should have at least considered having us all go out in a self-destructive blaze of glory, or perhaps it should have occurred to me to ask the remaining soldiers how they felt… but in the end, we survived, so I can’t regret it too much. We suffered, but we survived, and because we survived, a hero did, eventually, come to save us.’

She paused, glancing back at Sky as she finished, ‘Of course, that part of the story is more Link’s to tell than my own. Suffice to say that the hero you’ve borrowed from this era is both Hyrule’s saviour and my own, several times over. His wellbeing is therefore of the utmost concern, both to Hyrule and to me. I do hope that you and your companions will not forget that.’

Caught up in her story as he had been, it took a moment for Sky to recognise the tone shift for what it was. A quick glance towards Dusk’s frosty grey eyes was enough to confirm that he had not, in fact, imagined the threat.

Oddly enough, Sky actually felt himself relax a little at that.

For all that Twilight himself had seemed rather ambivalent about the Zelda of his era (“clever”, “wise”, “deeply gloomy to be around” and whatnot), there was clearly more than a little protectiveness on her own end of things. As shovel talks went… certainly, it was less blatant than that of Wild’s Zelda or Sky’s own – latter of which may or may not have briefly tapped into her residual divine powers for the sole purpose of effective intimidation (belatedly conceding the logic flaw in threatening Sky’s own reincarnations) – but it was still firm enough to trigger at least a touch of sympathy and comradery.

…Maybe he wouldn’t throw her out that window, after all.

‘Is that why you came here, then?’ Sky ventured in a warmer tone than he’d used with her all afternoon. ‘To check in on him?’

Dusk seemed to relax a little in turn as she replied, ‘Something along those lines.’

A new realisation struck, and Sky frowned as he asked, ‘But how did you know? We only arrived a few days ago. Twi– Link said he was going to send a letter, but that it would probably take a while to reach you.’

‘The last letter I received from him was from over a month ago,’ Dusk confirmed. ‘If he’s sent me anything recently, I’m yet to receive it. But in truth…’ She gave Sky another measuring glance, followed by a small, cautious smile. ‘I had a dream of this place, and of all of you here. Prophetic dreams are not the most reliable method of arranging a meeting, of course, but they are a proud tradition of the Royal Family… dating all the way back to my ancestors in your own era.’

Sky blinked. ‘In my era?’

Dusk’s bland expression twitched slightly. ‘…Yes?’

‘Weird,’ Sky said blankly, ‘I thought I was the only one in my time who had that sort of dream.’

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Dusk continued to stare at him. Sky had the strangest sense that he was missing something very, very obvious.

Uncertainly, he appended, ‘I mean… I don’t know if “prophetic dreams” is the right word for them… it’s more like… sometimes I get a dream about something that might happen, but it doesn’t really tell me where to go, or what to do…’

‘I… well. Yes. That is the type of dream I meant,’ Dusk replied, sounding vaguely thrown. ‘It’s just… from reading Link’s letter, I had thought… never mind.’

Hmm.

…Suspicious.

Yep, Sky thought, with an increasingly suspecting sense of suspicion: definitely missing something.

Sudden realisation struck. ‘Oh!’ Sky snapped his fingers. ‘You must have meant Zelda. The Zelda of my time, that is. Legend –’ his voice wavered briefly, eyes falling to Wind’s pirate charm ‘– Legend mentioned a while back that the Royal Family all descended from her. He sounded pretty sure about that.’ Oddly shy about it too, if Sky remembered correctly. Blushing, even; had he been hiding something? ‘I didn’t think she experienced those sorts of dreams, but… I guess I’ll have to ask her about it sometime.’

‘And… you are of course aware,’ Dusk ventured, ‘that humans in this era, as with most organic beings across most eras, typically have… multiple ancestors?’

Sky gave her a confused look. ‘Well, yeah,’ he conceded. ‘You’re a long way in the future, after all. It’d have to be generations after generations…’ He paused to yawn, glancing blearily in the direction of Shad and Ashei’s murmured conversation from behind and then back to Dusk, walking beside him. ‘’S cool in a way, though. Thinking about how her kids will have kids and they’ll have kids all the way to thousands of years into the future… I just hope –’

‘Wait, are you fucking serious?!’ Ashei burst out suddenly.

Sky jolted and sent an alarmed glance backwards, only to find that the swordswoman’s attention was still firmly fixed on Shad and whatever presumably offensive thing he had said. He turned back to Dusk with an apologetic grimace, only to find that she was avoiding his gaze, cheeks tinged oddly pink.

Changing the topic felt like a good idea.

‘So anyway, what were you saying before?’ Sky asked hastily. ‘That you had a prophetic dream? And that’s why you came here?’

‘Well… yes,’ said Dusk. She gave a light cough. ‘I had a dream that you and your companions would come here. I wasn’t sure of the timing, but I decided to trust my hunch and set out in secret. Unfortunately, it seems I was a little late.’

And if that wasn’t more than enough to dash all lingering thoughts of multiple ancestor prophetic dream heredity from Sky’s mind. ‘Late?!’ he asked sharply. ‘What do you mean? Late for what?’

Dusk gave a reassuring smile. ‘Only that I don’t think your companions will be back until tomorrow morning, at the earliest.’ She indicated towards to the west, where the sun was setting behind the veil of trees. ‘I thought we’d arrived just in time, but it seems that sunrise and sunset look quite similar, only from different directions. Now that I’m here, I know: it was dawn in the vision I had.’

Sky looked down at his hand, still clutching Wind’s crystal pendant. His throat tightened. ‘They will come back, though? All of them? You saw that?’

‘Dreams only ever show possibilities, not guarantees,’ Dusk said mercilessly, ‘but if your companions do return, I believe it will be in the morning. And even if it’s not a guarantee, I believe that those dreams exist for a reason. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have bothered to come here.’

Sky blew out an unsteady breath. ‘Sounds like your dreams are a bit more helpful than mine, at least,’ he forced out. ‘More specific, at least. Or maybe you’re just better at paying attention.’

‘It can be a bit of a difficult talent to manage,’ Dusk remarked. ‘Come to think of it: did you ever actually receive any training?’

‘Training?’ Sky repeated curiously. ‘No. As far as I can tell, those sorts of dreams just… happen. In my case, at least. Maybe it’s different for you?’

‘On the contrary: it’s likely that your ability would be stronger than my own, if you only learned to wield it,’ Dusk disputed. ‘I’d be happy to teach you the basics, if you’d like?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say no, but… stronger than your own?’ Sky asked curiously. ‘What gives you that idea?’

Dusk’s gaze skated away. ‘Call it a hunch.’

‘If you say so,’ Sky allowed. ‘I guess you and your family do tend to have some pretty good hunches. Could you tell me what’s involved in that sort of training, then?’

‘Certainly,’ said Dusk. ‘The first thing you’ll need to know…’

The sun was well and truly on its way towards the horizon as Sky and Dusk finally exited the general store that served as Twilight’s version of a herbalist. If the Queen had been at all surprised by the small selection, she had hidden it well, and had been similarly graceful in navigating the shopkeeper’s less-than-subtle prodding over her identity. Sky himself had hung to the side, idly petting the flightless remlit that yowled for his affection from atop the shop counter. His other hand continued to fidget with the stubbornly silent pirate charm in his pocket. He’d broken free from his daze just in time to intervene as Dusk produced her wallet, only for her to brush him off and pay anyway.

‘Call it amends for the disruption earlier,’ she suggested, tactfully neglecting to mention Sky’s own role in that disruption.

Well. Fine. ‘Thank you,’ said Sky, hefting the loaned wicker basket stuffed with far more supplies than even he – with, admittedly, a few mother cuccoing tendencies of his own – would have thought strictly necessary. ‘I’ll walk you to the inn, then.’

On Dusk’s firm advice, Shad and Ashei had gone ahead to make a booking, the latter throwing a warning glare in Sky’s direction, followed by a sheepish wince and, inexplicably, a small bow, before dragging the former away.

As they walked, Dusk offered unexpectedly, ‘Perhaps my companions and I should escort you back instead. Are you sure it’s alright for you to go wandering on your own at this hour?’

‘I’ll be fine; it’s not far,’ Sky said automatically. Belatedly remembering the events of the previous night, he winced, reconsidered, and then tacked on resolutely, ‘And it isn’t quite dark yet.’

‘Dusk,’ his companion said wryly. ‘The intersection between light and dark. Dangerous in its own right, wouldn’t you say?’

Sky blinked. ‘I… only meant that monsters are stronger at night,’ he said hesitantly.

‘Oh? Is that a superstition of yours?’

‘Not a superstition; it’s just how things are,’ he told her. ‘Divine power, including that of the Goddess, is strongest during the day, but it wanes at night, which is when demonic power waxes its most powerful.’

True in terms of Demise’s own power and its residual effects on the monsters of Sky’s era. True as well of poor Batreaux’s involuntary effect on Skyloft’s remlit population, of the stal creatures that appeared at night in certain places, and of Wild’s Blood Moon. Nothing good ever came of wandering around beneath a pitch black sky, and looking back, Sky could only kick himself for his carelessness in letting his companions set out like that, even knowing how out of sorts they’d all been.

See if he ever makes that mistake again.

It took Sky a moment to notice that Dusk was once again staring at him. ‘What?’ he asked belatedly.

Dusk glanced back at the inn – only twenty or so paces away – then halted and turned to him. Slowly and carefully, she replied, ‘The way you speak of Hylia is… interesting to me.’

Sky tensed. Before he could think better of it, he snapped back, ‘Is it?’

Dusk startled subtly, lips parting. She looked away. ‘Well. A lot of time has passed between our eras, after all. It’s only to be expected. You and that idyllic civilisation of the sky feel more like fairytales than anything more tangible… it’s hard to even imagine a world like that, with no kings or queens, no palaces…’

‘We didn’t need them, up there,’ Sky said bitterly. ‘We had the Goddess, so there was no need to worship humans.’

‘Yes. And it all comes back to Hylia, doesn’t it?’ Dusk remarked. ‘The goddess who became human, and whose human descendants remade themselves as the new gods.’

Sky blew out a sharp, frustrated breath. ‘That’s… it’s not as simple as… I mean, I wouldn’t say that Hylia… urgh. Never mind. The hell do I know about it, anyway?’

Even when he was properly rested and not heartsick and worried over missing companions, it was still difficult for him to reconcile that towering presence of the Goddess, the very heart of Skyloft’s culture, with the all-too-human form of his best friend turned romantic partner. Hard enough, back then, to hold his tongue when the people he’d grown up with had murmured fearfully of the Goddess Isle’s fall from the heavens, and what that terrifying omen might mean. But Sky and Zelda had agreed, he’d thought, that her identity would stay a secret. That nothing needed to change, and that the people who still sent prayers to their goddess didn’t need to know that she was walking and flying in their midst as a mere mortal. And yet…

And yet, if Dusk and her so-called “royal family” were any indication, the story had come out, in the end. One way or another.

‘I would think you’d know a lot about it, in fact,’ Dusk remarked casually. ‘Weren’t you the expert, after all, as far as Hylia is concerned? Link certainly seemed to think so. He shared your little theory with me, in his last letter.’

‘About our quest, the portals and who must be behind them?’ Sky asked wearily. ‘Well, sure, though I wouldn’t necessarily call it my theory.’

‘Whose, then?’ Dusk asked promptly.

‘Well, I can’t say I had no hand in it, but if you really want to know,’ Sky answered reluctantly, ‘back when that portal first appeared in my era, the Zelda of my time said that she recognised the magic as Hylia’s, even though she had no memory of casting it.’

Dusk gave a thoughtful hum. ‘And generally, it isn’t possible to forge a magical signature. Correct?’

‘Totally impossible, as far as she knew – at least where a goddess’ magic is concerned,’ said Sky. ‘And she also said that portals to other times only go between present and past. You can’t build them to the future, because there are far too many possible futures. Not to mention the immense amount of power required to create even a single connection between eras: creating as many as we’ve seen, in as many places as we’ve seen… surely only a deity could do such a thing. So although it might have been my suggestion at first – I can’t remember for sure – she agreed with me that the most likely explanation was that her future self somehow regained her lost divinity, becoming Hylia once again.’

‘Intriguing,’ murmured Dusk.

‘Believe what you will, I suppose,’ Sky said begrudgingly. ‘As you say, many years have passed between our eras. Seems people ended up seeing the Goddess quite differently, over time. That is, if they bother to think of her at all.’

As level and understanding as he tried to be, it was hard not to be offended, sometimes, witnessing Legend’s cheerful irreverence and Time’s cold distrust, let alone the blank incomprehension from most of the others. But then there was Wild’s era – along with his baffling admission of the previous night. The proof of Hylia’s continued presence, even so far into the future, had been its own bittersweet mix of homesickness, grief and hope.

‘As for me,’ Sky contented himself with saying, ‘I’m only one small person, in a much, much larger world. The Goddess and her designs – mysterious as they sometimes seem – have always been far bigger than me.’

‘Humble of you,’ Dusk said quietly. ‘Perhaps a little too humble, all told.’

Sky sighed. ‘I should get going,’ he said tiredly. ‘My friends will be wondering where I am. And I’d like to tell them about that dream of yours. Hopefully you’re right and the others will be back tomorrow morning… though it’s going to be a long night, in the meantime.’

Again, there was an odd pause as Dusk scrutinised him. Her mouth opened as if to speak, only to close again as she cast a sharp look over their surroundings. Confused and mildly alarmed, Sky followed her gaze, but saw nothing. He turned back to Dusk with a questioning tilt of his head. She hesitated for a few moments more, then reached beneath her cloak to unclasp something near her neckline.

‘A gift for the Hero of the Sky,’ she advised, ‘in the hopes that he will hold our beloved Hero of Twilight close to his heart as they travel together.’

Sky looked curiously into her splayed hands. They held a delicate piece of golden jewellery shaped like a Goddess Crest, with hooks on either end suggesting it acted as some sort of deeply impractical, possibly ceremonial plate armour (a gorget, maybe? Was that what those were called?). A large, pale pink gem adorned the centre while a set of six glimmering, multicoloured crystal drops hung three-by-three at each end. Sky inspected the latter closely, surprised enough to muse aloud, ‘Aren’t those…?’

‘Goddess Plumes, supposedly dropped by Hylia herself in a long distant era,’ Dusk informed him. ‘The jewel at the centre is a moon pearl, representing the fabled King of Light’s conquest of the darkness long ago. It’s rare to see such things outside of the royal vault… but I’m sure we can spare a trinket or two. I can only hope it will demonstrate my sincerity.’

Bewildered as he may be by the situation, Sky was hardly one to turn down a complimentary trinket, let alone a particularly shiny one. ‘Thank you,’ he said graciously. ‘Then I’ll –’

Dusk’s hands gripped onto his as he tried to pull away. ‘And one more thing, if I may?’ she requested.

‘Yes?’ a startled Sky replied.

Dusk’s storm-grey eyes bored into his. Her grip tightened.

The world around them dropped away.

Wild’s eyes snapped open.

He lurched upright, only for his weakened limbs to send him toppling right back down upon the stone floor. An inarticulate groan of complaint slipped past his lips.

Two blurry shapes, one small and pink and the other large and grey, poked their way into his field of vision, slowly resolving themselves into the shape of a rabbit and wolf.

‘–n’t a race, kiddo!’ Legend scolded. ‘You with us?’

Nodding dazedly, Wild lifted himself up once again, this time slower and more carefully. Fabric shifted as he moved, and he spared a moment of confused consideration for the two cloaks that formed his makeshift bedding: one lightly folded around him and the other bundled up beneath his head. Several disoriented blinks at his surroundings eventually placed them as the elevator room in the Forest Temple’s basement.

‘Huh,’ he said thickly. ‘Alright. So. What the hell happened, and how did we all end up back here?’

The two animals exchanged glances. ‘How much do you remember?’ Legend asked cautiously.

Huh.

That question was never a particularly good start.

Wild paused to consider, rubbing at his aching temples. A glance at the red-bordered corridor towards the left provided a useful visual cue. ‘I think… we were fighting some kind of giant ghost thing?’ That much was clear, though he had a few faint impressions of something afterwards: kneeling behind Zelda while her pompous arsehole father ranted about failure and irresponsibility and whatever else, fighting and dying on Blatchery Plain…

Ok, no: not the time for that.

Wild shuddered and hugged his arms around himself. ‘Ok,’ he said, as steadily as he could manage, ‘so. Did that thing kick my arse, or what?’

Legend laughed awkwardly. ‘Uh… yeah. Something like that. Speaking of which: here.’ With all the grace of a miniature quadruped denied the privilege of opposable thumbs, he grasped an adjacent bottle of hearty elixir and shuffled forwards. ‘Now that you’re awake, you can drink this. Alright?’

‘I’m fine,’ Wild said automatically – more or less true, if he ignored the headache and the shivering. As far as he could tell, nothing was broken or bleeding, making it a rather good day for him, all things considered. Certainly not a bad enough day to waste rare ingredients on.

The other two seemed to disagree, if the disgruntled ear flicks and low growl were any indication. ‘Face it, kid,’ Legend said acerbically, ‘you look like shit.’ Wow. Rude. ‘Roolie couldn’t find any physical injuries, but he couldn’t wake you up, either. So even if you don’t think you need it, you should probably drink that to be safe.’

‘But if there wasn’t anything physical –’ Wild began to argue, cutting off as the rest of Legend’s words belatedly registered. ‘Wait – Hyrule. Where are Hyrule and Time? Are they ok?!’

‘They’re fine!’ Legend said quickly. ‘You were the only one who got hurt.’

Wild’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ok,’ he pressed, ‘then where are they?’

His two companions once again traded exasperated looks. Twilight woofed and Legend sighed. ‘Upstairs,’ the latter said grudgingly. ‘They went ahead to deal with the next boss.’

‘What?!’ Wild lurched to his feet – too quickly. His vision blurred and his knees buckled, dropping him right back down on top of the wolf that had lunged forward to support him. He clumsily elbowed his way back to a seated position. ‘How… how long was I out? Can we still catch up?’ he gasped. ‘I thought we agreed to stick together.’

‘Wild,’ Legend said tersely, ‘once again: sit the fuck back down. I know you’re used to pushing past this kind of crap, but you really don’t look good right now. That last boss hit you with some sort of attack, and you… well, you weren’t yourself, for a bit. Stumbling around like a drunkard, waving your sword at everyone… almost gave farm boy here a new haircut, you know?’

Wild recoiled. ‘What?!’

Twilight gave a sharp, disapproving bark.

‘He’s fine!’ Legend translated quickly. ‘It was only a handful of seconds, really. If that. Time managed to hit the monster with a light arrow, and we finished it off quickly enough from there. But you passed out as soon as it went down and we couldn’t wake you, so pardon me for being a bit concerned. And, I mean… even before that…’ He hesitated, then explained delicately, ‘You’ve been a bit… off, this whole time we’ve been down here. So, we all agreed that the best thing to do would be to get through this temple and out of this shithole dimension as soon as possible. Preferably sooner.’

‘Just me, then?’ Wild asked quietly. ‘So, no one else has been affected at all?’

‘Hey – none of that,’ Legend scolded. ‘So what if it affects you a little differently? At least you weren’t turned into a fucking rabbit.’

‘Yeah. And I should have been, right?’ Wild retorted. ‘If I was a normal Hylian, that is. ’Cause I don’t have a moon pearl, or the Master Sword – and even if I had the Master Sword, it doesn’t even… I mean, it…’ He blew out a stressed sigh, dropping his head into his arms. ‘Fuck. Sorry. I’m just… you know. A mess. As usual.’

(Scratches along the edges of the Shrine of Resurrection. Memories of a past self that still felt like a stranger. Sheikah scientists asking, with dispassionate curiosity, whether anything had changed during his hundred-year slumber. Dark Link’s own voice, mild and unthreatening as he theorised idly –)

‘Hey, c’mon! Shit. Cheer up, kid: you’re not a mess – or at least, you’re not the biggest mess around here,’ Legend was saying, tiny paws raised in supplication.

Wild lifted his eyes a mutinous inch or two. ‘Oh, yeah? Wanna bet?’

‘Yeah, sure,’ Legend retaliated with unwavering confidence. ‘Fifty rupees if I can identify a bigger mess.’

Huh. ‘I’d say “deal”, but you don’t even have a wallet right now,’ Wild mused.

‘Good thing I’m not gonna lose, then,’ Legend informed him. With a brief pause to contemplate Twilight’s disapproving growl, he stated boldly, ‘Exhibit A: you already know about his chu jelly nonsense, but the other day, I saw Twilight eat a bunch of maggots. And not just any maggots: fucking bee maggots. He just cracked open a hive and ate its innards like some wretched moblin.’

Twilight gave a confused and mildly defensive whine.

‘Larvae, not maggots,’ Wild corrected on the wolf’s behalf, ‘and I don’t think moblins eat bee larvae. Lizalfos might? But even if they do: one time I ate a live frog, slime and all. I think.’

‘You think, or you know?’

Wild pointed a single finger at his head and met Legend’s unimpressed stare with one of his own. ‘Mess, remember? Hell if I “know” anything about what past me did or did not eat. So, you gonna give me those fifty rupees?’

Legend wavered, sent a quietly growling Twilight a quick, panicked glance, then rallied himself and retorted, ‘E-exhibit B: someone I know might’ve gotten, uh, legally m-married to this guy… and it was supposed to just be for, like, legal reasons, but he, uh, since he’s just a giant mess, he may have had – oh, shut the fuck up, Fido – he may have had a few ulterior motives behind agreeing, which he m-may or may not have ever admitted to, and so he might just have spent the past several months… uh… ah, fuck it: I’ll just pay the damn rupees –’

‘I don’t think I ever got married, but I might’ve gotten close,’ Wild reflected. ‘Either way: she’s dead now. Kind of a downer. I told you about Mipha before, right?’

‘O-oh,’ said Legend. ‘Right. Yeah, the… the Zora woman with the…’ He paused. ‘Shit, kid. You are kinda fucked up, huh?’

Wild laughed. ‘See, this is why I like you, Lege,’ he replied warmly, ‘you’re honest.’

Twilight shoved his paw into Wild’s chest, snapped at Legend and gave several irritated barks.

‘I’m pivoting, I’m pivoting – give me a damn moment!’ Legend hissed back.

Wild snorted. ‘It’s fine,’ he offered, petting both animals in as condescending a manner as he could manage. ‘You did good. Consider Operation “Cheer Wild Up” a success. We should get moving, anyway.’ Carefully, and with greater success this time, he lifted himself up from the floor, taking a moment to tuck the unused elixir and excessive quantity of cloaks away in his slate.

‘Hey! The fuck are you –?! Sit back down! Now!’ Legend hissed, scrambling ineffectively to obstruct Wild’s body with his far smaller one. ‘Wild, in case you forgo– urgh. Just to remind you: we’re supposed to be waiting for the others. What do you think’s gonna happen if they get back and we’re not here?!’

In response, Wild produced a hunk of moblin innards, splattered them onto the floor and used his foot to draw a grisly arrow towards the green passageway. ‘Problem solved,’ he announced. ‘You coming?’

‘Nope, no, absolutely not,’ snapped Legend. ‘Twi: sit on him already, damn it!’

Even as Legend spoke, Twilight was already lunging and Wild was already dodging. He only stumbled a little.

‘I said I’m fine,’ Wild repeated exasperatedly. ‘And wasn’t the whole idea of splitting up about getting through this place faster? Even if we don’t fight the boss just yet, we can at least clear out the rooms leading up to it.’

‘Roolie is going to murder you, and I am going to help,’ fumed Legend.

‘Yeah, you should definitely team up,’ Wild agreed haphazardly. ‘I mean, the success rate for permanently murdering me is actually pretty low. You’d be surprised.’

‘Damn it, Wild! Get back here!’

Sky let out an involuntary cry as he stumbled and barely managed to find his footing, landing atop some strange glass-like barrier above an endless plain of fast moving, glowing water. Above was only a well of pure, unbroken blackness, devoid of any moon or stars. Inspecting his own body and then that of Dusk, still standing opposite him, he found that both of them had turned strangely ghostly and luminous around the edges. The little piece of armour was still there, clasped in their joined hands, but both the basket of medical supplies and reassuring weight of the Master Sword on his back were gone.

‘This… where –?’ Sky asked with growing trepidation.

‘A Silent Realm of my own creation,’ said Dusk. She released her grip on Sky’s hands and continued, ‘Rest assured: I’ll return you to the real world soon enough, and it will be as if no time had passed outside.’

‘A Silent Realm…’ murmured Sky.

A lifelike, artificial environment created through powerful magic: the concept was familiar enough to someone who had experienced both the trials of the ancient gods and the storm-riddled battlefield created by Demise. Yet Dusk, as far as Sky knew, was neither god nor demon.

With fresh alertness chasing away the exhaustion in his veins, he asked, ‘Why did you bring me here?’

‘To ensure that we were neither overheard nor interrupted,’ Dusk said coolly. She swept a hand across their surroundings and added, ‘A place like this is nigh impossible to enter without an invitation, let alone doing so unnoticed. You have earned my trust, Sky, unexpected as that is, and so I intend to give you the warnings I’d originally planned to give to Link. You can then decide for yourself what to do with them.’

Sky tensed. ‘Why me? You said he would return soon, didn’t you?!’

Not unsympathetically, Dusk explained, ‘As I said, prophetic dreams are not guarantees, only indications of probable outcomes – one of which is the Hero of Twilight’s safe return. But in any case… the more I think about it, the more I think that you were the right person to speak with in the first place.

‘I’ll admit,’ she went on, ‘when I first received Link’s letter and read that little theory in there, about your quest and who was supposedly behind it…’ She gave a half-hearted smile. ‘It did make me a little angry, if I’m honest. And I wasn’t quite sure what to make of you, as the person who had supposedly suggested it.

‘See, I’ve always believed, first and foremost, in the things that exist right before me. The people I’ve relied on, the environments I can see and touch, the blood that’s been spilled and the screams and laments that pierce the air… should that “Goddess” of yours ever appear before me, perhaps I’d have a few things to say to her, after all this time.’ Something quietly vicious flickered in Dusk’s expression, before smoothing away into that same blank mask. ‘So, I set out to discover what I could, searching through the future with that special gift of ours, trying to find an explanation that made sense…’

As she spoke, ghostly images started to flicker into place around them. Sky saw himself and his companions in a myriad of different scenes: talking, travelling, fighting…

‘You’ve been spying on us?’ he accused abruptly.

‘I admitted as much earlier, didn’t I?’ Dusk returned unabashedly. ‘How else would I have known to expect you all back in this era? Of course, it’s not as if I can see everything. Just enough to plant a suspicion or two.’

Sky glared back at her. ‘And that suspicion is?’

‘That there is something following you,’ Dusk said coolly. ‘Something other than Hylia, unless I’m very much mistaken.’

‘I need an adult,’ moaned Legend.

‘Mm,’ said Twilight.

Legend paused. ‘Hey, mutt,’ he said conversationally, ‘this is the part where you point out that I am an adult, you know?’

Twilight craned his head to look at Legend, once again sprawled over his back like an overconfident prey animal who was not entirely unaffected – for all he might pretend – by his several hours of running around, exploring ruined temples, luring monsters into pit traps, taming bees, spitting combustible seeds at his enemies and etc. Twilight then looked at Wild, thoroughly preoccupied with scaling the walls on suspiciously wobbly limbs.

‘Technically, we’re all adults here,’ Twilight said emptily.

‘Wow,’ said Legend, ‘that fucking sucks. I want a refund.’

Twilight was denied the chance to respond as Wild inevitably lost his grip and fell, landing firmly on his rear. ‘I’m good!’ the teenager wheezed, offering an unconvincing thumbs up. ‘Found some weird little switches up there, too!’

‘I haven’t been able to see it clearly,’ Dusk explained mildly. ‘Just a few hints here and there, in the corner of my vision… hard to even be sure of its presence. But although your working theory was surprisingly well-reasoned, it’s not the only explanation. And if you assume it is, then you won’t bother to even look for other possibilities.

‘The item I gave you earlier… could be one of those other possibilities.’

Sky looked down at the armour piece in his hand. It glimmered faintly as he turned it over to inspect from other angles. ‘I don’t think I understand,’ he admitted after a moment. ‘What does this have to do with anything?’

‘You recognised those crystals, didn’t you?’ asked Dusk.

‘The Goddess Plumes? Sure,’ a confused Sky replied. ‘They’re rare, and they’re pretty. So what?’

‘Rare and pretty…? They’re far more than that, Sky,’ Dusk chided. ‘The Royal Family has long prized such things, believing they’re feathers from the wings of the ancient goddess. They don’t look much like feathers to me; more like the spikes of a lizard, which gives Professor Shad’s theories some interesting credence… but they do still hold power, regardless of their origins. And of course, all magic has an aura associated with it. I wonder if the Zelda you know would recognise this one?’

Suspicion stirred as Sky thought back to that ancient mining facility in the Lanayru Desert. ‘How powerful are those crystals?’ he asked shrewdly. ‘How many of them would you need to open a portal between ages? Let alone tens of portals, opening and closing as needed?’

‘A lot,’ Dusk admitted. ‘Probably far more than even the Royal Family holds in its vault. And that’s without even considering how that power might have continued to fade, further into the future.’

‘It doesn’t sound very feasible, then,’ Sky remarked warily.

‘Not on its own, no,’ Dusk agreed, ‘but if all you needed was to cover up a separate aura, maybe one less distinctive, and especially if there were only a small number of people you needed to thoroughly fool… then it becomes far more feasible, don’t you think? And here’s my point, Sky: if there are multiple feasible outcomes, then the one you need to worry about and to plan for is –’

‘The worst case scenario,’ Sky finished shrewdly.

‘Precisely.’

‘Oh, for crying out – it’s twenty-three is number one!’ Legend bellowed at Wild.

‘Huh?’ said Wild, pausing from his little game of randomly tossing pieces of rubble at the crystal switches embedded in the wall.

‘Two, three, one. Twenty-three is number one. Hit the switches in that order,’ Legend explained tersely.

‘Says who?’ Wild asked curiously.

‘Says basic dungeon logic! And the old tales of the Hero of Time!’ Legend exclaimed.

‘Legend, why are you helping him?!’ demanded Twilight.

‘’Cause he’s stuck! And he’s gonna be stuck here for ages! Who even knows where the clue for this puzzle is hidden?!’

‘And why,’ Twilight responded, with all the patience he had left, ‘do you think that Wild getting stuck here, on this very safe dungeon puzzle… is a bad thing?!’

Legend halted. ‘Oh.’

‘Yeah,’ said Twilight, ‘oh.’

‘Uh – hey, Wild!’ Legend called nervously. ‘I changed my mind. Maybe instead try –’

‘Wow, it actually worked. I take back all the bad things I ever said about that “dungeon logic” bullshit. I love bullshit,’ said Wild, staring at the opposite door as the bars that had been blocking it slowly creaked upwards.

‘Well,’ said Legend, ‘fuck.’

‘Just say for the moment I believe you, then,’ Sky went on, ‘what is the worst case scenario here? Sending nine heroes on a quest across the ages… even if it was someone other than the Goddess doing that, what does it even change? We would still be fighting, trying to save this land and its people. Does it actually matter who’s behind that?’

‘It matters if we combine it with another possibility,’ said Dusk, ‘which is that whoever or whatever is responsible for sending those portals to you is the same whoever or whatever responsible for those enhanced monsters, and for the other strange events happening across the timeline. Only a possibility, of course… but then, if we said there were separate causes for each phenomenon, wouldn’t that already be exceptionally unusual? To have two separate parties with that same extremely rare power, affecting the same eras and with all of you caught in the middle of it?’

Sky frowned. ‘So then, you think this entire quest was contrived? Creating a threat and then having us band together to fight it? Why? What’s the point of that?’

‘That is indeed the question,’ Dusk mused. ‘After all, if the destruction of Hyrule was the goal, they certainly would not have sent her most capable fighters to oppose it. And if you yourselves were the targets, it hardly seems efficient to let you all join up like this. As such, there are two possibilities that come to mind.’

‘And they are?’ Sky prompted impatiently.

‘First… that the goal is to destabilise the timeline.’

As Dusk spoke, their surroundings changed again. A patchwork of mismatched environments emerged around them: forest side-by-side with sprawling city architecture, and beside it a soaring peak that might have been either Eldin Volcano or Death Mountain, looming above a great glistening lake. Sky islands flickered into place high above, floating unsteadily and crumbling at the edges. Lines of golden fire ran between each segment, fizzling and crackling with the strain.

‘Time itself is a destructive force, in the wrong hands,’ Dusk intoned. ‘It takes a lot to bend it from its path… but it isn’t impossible. Not if enough pressure is applied.’

The golden lines crackled and disappeared as the earth shook and broke, the floating islands crumbling and falling, until with a sudden burst, the entire scene dissipated into fine, glittering ash.

‘If you have the chance to visit the Hero of Time’s era,’ Dusk went on mildly, ‘I would recommend speaking with one of my ancestors: the infamous “Princess of Destiny”. Depending on who you ask, that person was either an accomplished seer who spent their life repenting for the sins of meddling with time… or they were utterly insane. Perhaps you can gauge the difference with your own eyes.

‘Unfortunately, it seems their diaries were destroyed when Hyrule was last attacked, but from what I recall, there was one disaster they feared above all… one which leads me to that second possibility I mentioned: that what this mysterious force seeks, rather than any of your deaths… is the death of the Hero’s Spirit itself. To create a world where that spirit no longer exists.

‘That, Sky, is what we might call the worst case scenario.’

‘Wild!’ barked Twilight, carelessly tossing the mangled corpse of a keese to one side as he dashed towards his companion’s crumpled form.

Slain monsters lay scattered over the floor, along with the broken remnants of a handful of Wild’s brittle scavenged weapons. Having improbably stumbled his way through three rooms already, he’d managed well enough against the pair of moblins, only to drop to the floor and curl in on himself right after the second of the two fell. There he lay, eyes squeezed shut and arms tight to his chest as he gasped raggedly for breath. A swift, focused inspection confirmed a lack of any new physical injuries. A few insistent licks of Wild’s pale face finally earned Twilight a weak shove and a murmured response.

‘I’m… fine,’ Wild wheezed. ‘Just… gimme a m-moment…’

And, yep: those were Wild’s speaking rights thoroughly revoked for the foreseeable future.

‘He didn’t drink that potion earlier, did he?’ Twilight turned to ask Legend, receiving a distracted head shake in response.

‘Wild?’ Legend called gently. ‘Sorry, but I don’t think it’s safe here. Think you can make it back to the previous room? Uh… Wild?’

‘Wild?’ prompted Twilight, agitatedly nosing at Wild’s unresponsive form as he swiftly unrevoked Wild’s speaking rights and mentally kicked himself for good measure. ‘Lege, this doesn’t look good. Are you sure we have to move?’

Unhappily, Legend explained, ‘I can’t say for sure, but I think there might be wallmasters nearby. Not something we want to risk, if we can avoid it. Think you can carry him?’

‘Not much choice, I guess,’ Twilight replied doubtfully, slowly circling Wild as he searched for a good angle to approach from. Preferably one that wouldn’t involve sinking his teeth into anything soft, though expecting the clumsy process to be anywhere near comfortable for poor Wild was probably a stretch.

Thankfully, Wild chose that moment to finally, sluggishly stir once more. ‘Seh ’m fine,’ he grumbled indistinctly. He lifted his head, opened his eyes and stared blearily at Twilight.

Stunned into silence, Twilight could only stare right back.

‘Huh,’ Legend said slowly. ‘That’s, uh. That’s probably not good.’

Wild blinked his bright orange, slit-pupiled eyes at them. ‘What?’ he asked faintly.

Their surroundings shifted once again, blossoming into an immense chamber with a grand throne at one end and a wide open entrance at the other. Sky and Dusk stood atop a dais at the throne end, behind a line of soldiers, looking down at the brutal battle below.

The horde of fully armed and armoured soldiers easily outnumbered the sprinkling of large, spindly-limbed monsters, yet every sweep of those dark claws sent entire groups sprawling, painting the beige tiled floor a lurid crimson. By the time the action slowed to a stop, every monster was still standing and every soldier below the dais was either dead or dying.

‘I meant what I said earlier,’ Dusk commented idly. ‘Once their power fully awakens, even a single hero is the equivalent of an entire army. And when the hero isn’t there to save us… you get something like that. Or perhaps, if my ancestor’s catastrophising was to be believed: something like this.’

Waves swept into the hall – not intangible illusions, but real water, chillingly cold and powerful enough to knock Sky off his feet. He drew in an instinctive breath, coughed the liquid out, and then wrapped his arms defensively around his face, squeezing his eyes shut as the water level rapidly climbed higher.

With his head fully submerged and lungs already screaming for air, he peeked out into the gloom, finding aquatic ruins choked with algae where that grand palace had once stood.

‘And even in the potential futures where a hero does exist,’ Dusk’s voice murmured through the waves, ‘sometimes, that hero falters. Sometimes, they fail.’

The water vanished.

Sky tripped and fell, suddenly dry again and utterly confused about it. He lifted his eyes to the sight of a huge, leering Gerudo man, who held the limp form of a bloodied soldier by the wrist, golden light streaming out from a glowing triangle on the back of his hand to collect in his enemy’s own grasp. The soldier struggled weakly, blood-soaked blonde hair flicking back to reveal a familiar face.

Sky jolted. ‘Warriors,’ he breathed, and then, ‘WARRIORS!’

The illusion rippled and vanished even as he lunged forward, one hand reaching for his friend while the other scrabbled helplessly for the hilt of the Master Sword that was missing from his back. Dusk’s surprisingly sturdy arm across his chest helpfully arrested his stumble.

‘But so long as heroes like you exist,’ she continued calmly, ‘hope springs anew.’

No longer bloodied and weak, but bright-eyed and determined, Warriors – a younger version of Warriors, now that Sky was paying attention – nocked an radiant arrow to his bow. It struck home in the forehead of the enormous, boar-headed monster that loomed before him. Without hesitation, Warriors tucked his bow away and surged forward, slashing his own version of the Master Sword in dazzling, devastating arcs of divine light, while his vivid cobalt scarf danced through the air behind him like a victory flag. The beast wailed and thrashed its fury, petering off in an almost pitiful cry of denial as it finally stumbled and fell.

‘Quite spectacular, aren’t you hero types?’ Dusk remarked. ‘So, you see, it’s not battles like these that worry me, in the long term, but perhaps something quieter… more insidious…’

A bright forested glade bloomed into existence around them. Contrasting the previous scenes, there was nothing outwardly threatening in what Sky saw: only a strange, longing expression on Twilight’s face – the only other figure present in the glade – as he reached slowly and inexorably for a mysterious, round object inscribed with unfamiliar runes.

The moment Twilight’s fingers made contact, another hand reached back, snatching him by the wrist and pulling. Sky yelled his surprise and lurched towards, far too late to stop his friend from disappearing into the void.

All light faded. The ground dropped away beneath him once again. And there was only Dusk floating before him, hair and clothes fanning outwards as if carried upon some intangible breeze.

‘I worry, Sky,’ she murmured. ‘Not about the fights you and your companions may win or lose, but about the fights that may not seem like fights, at least on the surface… that slow, creeping helplessness, that invasive call towards self-destruction, present even within the Hero’s Spirit. Perhaps even due to the very nature of that gentle yet fierce, stalwart yet inflexible spirit.

‘A few slip-ups are fine, but it’s possible to reach a certain tipping point, and from there… it may not be possible to return. After all: darkness has a gravity to it. That’s what I’ve found. The closer you get and the further you fall, the harder it is to resist those urgings.

‘Yet even if you spend your whole life running… even if you choose hope and action at every crossroad, every turn… it never stops. It will always, always seek to drag you down. Endlessly… relentlessly… tirelessly… until it seems pointless to even attempt to resist. Until it seems as if fighting something like that…

‘…Is like fighting gravity.’

And suddenly, they weren’t floating anymore, but falling. Falling faster and faster, with absolutely nothing below –

Dusk released his hands. Sky gave a disoriented blink.

There they were, once again, in Ordon Village, standing before one another beneath the gold and pink-tinged sky.

‘You called yourself “small”, earlier,’ Dusk remarked. ‘To think that the greatest, most formidable of all of my ancestors could ever claim such a ridiculous thing… truly, we live in mysterious times.’ She lifted a delicate hand to her chest and gave a small bow. ‘Please take care on your way back, Hero of the Sky.’

And with those parting words, Dusk turned and walked the rest of the way to the village inn, swiftly disappearing from view.

Sky continued to stand there, frozen in place with the piece of golden armour still clutched in his hands. Several seconds passed before he gained the coherence to lick his dry lips, draw in a breath and hesitantly offer a query to the empty air:

‘Did she just say… “ancestor”?’

Chapter Text

Perhaps Wild should have known better, by that stage, than to rely blindly on the Sheikah Slate.

The ten thousand year old technology was only barely understood by even the most knowledgeable and skilled researchers within his era. Practically none of its original documentation remained. Above all, the method that the Calamity had used to gain control of so much of that ancient machinery remained unknown, and with even Zelda herself conceding defeat on that matter, all dreams of restoring and reusing either the Guardians or Divine Beasts had inevitably been abandoned and replaced by the gruelling task of instead tracking down and dismantling all such proud remnants of the fabled golden age of technology. And for all that Wild’s own device had so far avoided that fate – whether due to its comparative harmlessness, to Zelda’s plaintive entreaties, or perhaps to a few of Wild’s own jaunts into the wilderness helpfully coinciding with all such discussions – he had, surely, been given more than enough reason to doubt the both the slate itself and each of its abilities.

Camera Rune included.

Camera Rune, and that ghastly parody of Wild’s own face that it had produced, definitely included.

It was roughly the right shape and size, but sharper somehow, like clay being slowly and subtly nudged into a new form. The colouration had shifted as well, especially at the hairline and around the eyes, where a more-or-less natural pallor met tinges of dull, dark grey.

And then there were the eyes themselves: bizarre, alien slit-pupils burnt into glowing orange and crimson irises in a pitch-black sclera.

No natural creature had those eyes. Even monsters didn’t look so terrifying.

That… couldn’t really be his face. Could it?

‘Wild!’ Legend cut in loudly, shoving his tiny pink body in between Wild and the slate’s display.

Wild startled. ‘Y-yes?’

Legend heaved a sigh. ‘Fuck’s sake, kid. Don’t just zone out on us like that,’ he grumbled. His tone hardened as he went on, ‘Never mind the details for now; we’ll work it out. First: you feeling ok? Hurting anywhere?’

‘Uhh,’ said Wild. He paused to consider.

The answer to the first question was an obvious no, one way or another, but as for the latter… something was off, but Wild was relatively sure he wasn’t in pain, as such.

Pain was something sharp and noisy and distracting, wasn’t it? Pain didn’t feel like –

‘’S weird,’ Wild uttered thickly. ‘Feels weird.’

‘Weird?’ Legend repeated sharply. ‘Weird h-w?! I’m gonna need you to… m-re sp-f-c… W-d. Wil–?’

The chill from before had sunk deep into Wild’s bones. It was hard to think of anything beyond that. Hard to focus enough to take in the sounds and sights around him, all blurring together in a dizzying whirl.

Cold, though… there was probably something Wild could do about cold, right? He seemed to recall… his slate, maybe? There was some sort of elixir that could –?

There was a clacking sound, and a light jarring sensation. Wild looked down.

The fingernails on the hand that rested on his Sheikah Slate had grown out into long, sharp claws: not quite Hylian anymore, but not quite not Hylian, either. The skin around them was daubed with splotches of unnatural grey, continuing over his hands and up into his sleeves. In a sudden frantic rush, ignoring the startled squeak from the adjacent pink blob, Wild tore at his arm wraps until they came free to reveal the skin underneath.

Around halfway to his elbows, the odd pigmentation melted into a slightly ashen version of his natural tan. It could be his imagination, but was the discolouration… growing?

When had all of this even started, for that matter? Appearances aside, his eyes still seemed functional enough, but even if he’d failed to notice that part without help, surely he would have at least noticed the growth of his new claws?

Had he missed anything else?

Suddenly lightheaded, Wild attempted to draw in a proper breath. He couldn’t help but start to panic as his tight lungs refused to comply. Why? he wondered frantically. Why couldn’t he b r e a–?

‘Dear me,’ an echo of Wild’s own voice interjected lightly, ‘are you feeling quite alright down there?’

Wild’s eyes snapped open. He couldn’t remember closing them.

The scene before him wavered dizzily on the edges like a heat haze in the Gerudo Desert. The blurred grey and pink shapes of Twilight and Legend were frozen in place, wide-eyed and unblinking. The only thing that seemed real was the third figure that had suddenly appeared to his left: a colourless echo of Wild’s own form, standing just a few steps short of “too close” with a patient smile on his face.

‘Dark… Link?’ rasped Wild.

With measured, deliberate grace, Dark Link settled down on the floor beside him. ‘No need to sound so uncertain,’ he said amiably. ‘It hasn’t so been long since we parted; I’m sure you haven’t forgotten me just yet.’

Wild’s thoughts seemed to be swimming through honey. ‘H-how?’ he eventually managed to ask. ‘When did you get here? And…’ His eyes landed once again on Twilight’s motionless form, and then on Legend beside him. ‘Th-the others… they…?’

Dark Link followed his gaze and made a soft, amused sound. ‘Ah. My poor, confused friend… perhaps you should worry about yourself first?’ he suggested mildly. ‘Your companions are fine. You’re not even awake right now.’

Wild stared at him. ‘Not… awake?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Then this…?’ Wild looked down at his strange new hands. ‘I’m… dreaming?’

‘Well, that part is certainly real,’ corrected Dark Link. Wild’s breathing stuttered once again. ‘It was quite the shock, though, wasn’t it?’ Dark Link continued heedlessly. ‘I can hardly blame you for passing out like that, especially after such a long day. And not to mention – oh. Easy there, Link: no need to work yourself up.’

Wild bristled, even as his body shook. ‘W-who s-said I w-w-was w-wo–?!’

‘Breathe out,’ Dark Link interrupted sternly. ‘Not like that: focus on breathing out. Out, two, three, four. In, two, three. Out, two, three, four – good! – in, two, three…’

Wild struggled to muster up the air for a retort and failed miserably. With few other options available which didn’t involve maybe passing out (could he even do that inside a dream?), he settled for petulant compliance with his maybe-hallucination’s patient, rhythmic count.

‘There,’ Dark Link said at last. ‘Are you feeling better?’

Wild gave a begrudging nod. ‘Yeah,’ he mumbled. ‘I’m g-great. Absolutely f-fantastic.’

‘I’m detecting a hint of sarcasm,’ noted Dark Link. ‘My imagination, perhaps?’

Wild rolled his eyes. It felt slightly different to usual – only slightly – like straining an underused muscle. Wild did his best to ignore that. ‘Yeah. Well,’ he uttered haphazardly, ‘mental breakdowns. What’s n-new?’

‘Well… I suppose,’ Dark Link said pensively. ‘Nonetheless, you have my sympathies.’

It occurred to Wild, belatedly, that as far as that particular conversation partner was concerned, the ratio of normal, mentally stable conversations to conversations involving at least one panic attack and/or bout of unplanned unconsciousness on Wild’s part was perhaps a little…

Hold on.

‘Wait,’ Wild said aloud, ‘have we ever actually had even a single conversation where I didn’t…?’

‘Hmm?’

Wild flushed. ‘N-never mind. Anyway. About the last time we saw each other… I passed out then too, didn’t I? Were you the one who took me back home?’

‘I could hardly have left you outside like that, could I?’ Dark Link responded lightly.

‘Uh… yeah…’ Wild muttered dubiously. ‘Umm… thank you?’ Hearing the less-than-flattering tone of his own words, he caught himself and amended, ‘I mean, thank you. And sorry for doing that.’

Dark Link shook his head. ‘I doubt you did it on purpose.’

‘R-right…’ said Wild. He drummed his restless fingers against his knees as he ran through the encounter in his head once again.

He’d been sitting beside the pond across from his house at the time, testing out that strange new Rune Dark Link had provided in the admittedly tenuous hope that it might summon him for a conversation. Certainly, Wild hadn’t intended to pass out, but by the time Dark Link had arrived, he’d been well on his way there. Perhaps as a result, there was a distinct sense of strangeness to the entire encounter, all the way through to the moment Wild had lost consciousness, only to then wake back at home in his own bed with his mirror image nowhere to be seen.

Wild hesitated. ‘How did you know that was my house?’ he ventured warily.

Dark Link raised a brow. ‘You may recall there being a rather helpful sign out front.’

‘Oh,’ Wild said awkwardly. ‘Of course.’

Right. He’d actually forgotten about that. And considering where he’d been at the time… he supposed it wasn’t that much of a stretch for Dark Link to have drawn a few very reasonable conclusions about where to dump Wild’s unconscious body. Nice of him to remove said unconscious body’s boots while he was at it, Wild supposed.

(Was it his imagination, or was something about that whole scenario just a little bit weird?)

‘And what about now?’ Wild went on. ‘You said I’m unconscious, right? Does that mean you’re just casually hanging out in my dreams, then? Since when?’

‘Since now, I suppose,’ Dark Link said thoughtfully, ‘though perhaps you would be better off telling me what I’ve done to earn the invitation.’

Wild gave him a blank look. ‘Me?’

‘It’s your mind, after all,’ Dark Link pointed out. ‘If I’ve made it all the way here, surely there’s a reason. Isn’t that how dreams work?’

Wild made a face. ‘F-fuck if I know. One time I dreamt a giant version of Flowerblight Magda was chasing me around Hateno with a broom. She conjured up a bunch of vines to hold me in place and socked me in the mouth until all my teeth fell out. I woke up in a cold sweat.’

Dark Link gave a non-committal hum. ‘You do seem to still have your teeth, at least,’ he noted, ‘although… they are looking a little sharper than usual…’

Wild immediately lifted his hand to test out the claim, new claws leaving clumsy nicks along his lips and gums as he felt along his mouth. It was hard to be sure, but…

‘My apologies,’ said Dark Link. ‘I thought you’d already noticed.’

Wild shuddered. He let both his hand and his gaze drop to his lap, taking vaguely curious note of the flecks of blood on his nails that matched the stinging on his face. ‘Thought you weren’t supposed to be able to feel pain in a dream,’ he grunted.

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Dark Link replied with entirely undue cheer, ‘it’s your dream, after all.’

‘Fine. Whatever,’ Wild conceded, continuing to glare down at his hands and knees. ‘Ok. Fine. Guess I just… freaked out, forgot to breathe or something and collapsed, then. And now I’m hallucinating, or lucid dreaming or whatever? Yeah. Makes sense. Classic, mentally-stable Wild. Figures.’

Dark Link let out a small laugh. ‘It doesn’t sound entirely flattering, when you put it like that, does it?’

Wild scoffed. ‘Come to think of it, though… you may be right. Maybe you were on my mind.’

‘…Oh?’

‘Yeah,’ said Wild, fidgeting with his new claws, ‘for one reason or another, I guess.’

For several reasons, really. From past warnings that continued to echo ceaselessly around Wild’s mind in quiet moments, to the memory of those faint drag marks next to a puddle around the same time that Legend had gone missing. And then those small, paranoid inklings before and after: Hyrule’s words, then Fado’s…

Wild chewed his lip as he considered. ‘I’ve been wondering about a few things,’ he said slowly, ‘though I suppose if you’re just, like… a figment of my imagination or whatever, then you wouldn’t be able to explain any of it, even if I asked.’

‘I suppose not,’ Dark Link allowed, ‘though you may as well ask. That way, if I’m not a figment of your imagination, you’ll get your answers, and if I am… perhaps those answers were within you, all along.’

Wild grimaced. ‘I… I guess.’ He sighed. ‘Alright, then let’s just… let’s just push forward and pretend this isn’t a dream, or a hallucination or whatever. More importantly… you would know about this place, and how it works, wouldn’t you?’

‘“This place”?’

‘The… Twilight Realm, I mean. Or whatever this is,’ Wild clarified. He scowled. ‘I didn’t really get what Legend was saying about this place maybe not being the Twilight Realm, only… affected by it, somehow. But yesterday, Twi told us a story that matched up with your own story, from when you and I met before. You know… about that tribe of dark magic users who were sealed away in another world. You remember that conversation?’

‘Yes,’ said Dark Link. ‘I remember.’

Wild shifted agitatedly. ‘Yeah. Good. But one of the things you didn’t mention… and that Twilight didn’t mention either, was –’ Wild indicated jerkily towards the frozen forms of his companions ‘– that.’

Dark Link followed his gaze. ‘That?’

Wild scowled. ‘You know. The transformation thing. The thing that’s supposed to happen to anyone who comes in contact with this place? I can understand why Twilight didn’t explain it back then, and I guess it wasn’t really all that relevant when you and I spoke, but… Legend ended up talking us through it, once we all showed up here. He said that “everything living that isn’t created through dark magic takes on a shape here that reflects its true nature”. That was… what he said, right?’

Dark Link gazed placidly back at him and replied, ‘If that’s what you remember, then that is presumably what he said.’

Wild nodded mutely. He looked down at his claws, then over to where his sword had fallen earlier. The grimy metal reflected the bright colour of his eyes just as damningly as the Sheikah Slate had.

‘But just look at me,’ Wild said abruptly. ‘The others turned into animals. Not half-human monsters. Legend is – he’s adorable! Look at him! And look at Twilight! Why am I so different?!

‘Everything’s felt so… so weird ever since we arrived. And it seems as if I’m the only one who feels that way. But I… I mean, I know I have my flaws, but surely this can’t be my true nature, can it? Surely there’s some other way of interpreting things?!’

Dark Link listened carefully to Wild’s increasingly erratic speech and gave a small hum of acknowledgement as he finished. ‘Certainly,’ he mused, ‘there are other interpretations, yes. Though I doubt you’ll like those options much, either.’

Cautiously, Wild asked, ‘Options?’

Dark Link stretched idly. ‘Well, once we cast aside the most obvious, straightforward interpretation of those words – that this is, indeed, your "true form"… the second explanation would be that you misremembered those words, or that you forgot some other important detail. Could that be possible?’

Wild hesitated, but eventually shook his head. If there was one thing he was relatively confident of, it was his post-Shrine-of-Resurrection memory. ‘Let’s just… assume that’s not the case. For now, at least.’

(Surely he could at least trust that much?)

‘Of course,’ Dark Link agreed placidly, ‘in which case, option three becomes this: the Hero of Legend was either mistaken – which seems unlikely, considering the breadth of his experience – or… he was lying to you.’

Wild flinched. Automatically, he replied, ‘Legend wouldn’t do that.’

The declaration fell slightly flat in the quiet corridor. With a mild glint to his eyes, Dark Link watched Wild fidget.

‘…Would he?’ Wild eventually amended.

‘Most likely not,’ Dark Link decided, ‘considering that the Hero of Twilight was there as well. Even if he wasn’t able to speak your language at the time, he could surely have interjected some other way if any outright lies were spoken. Don’t you agree?’

‘Right,’ Wild agreed quickly. ‘Yeah. Obviously.’

(Unless both of them lied, a small and paranoid part of Wild noted shrewdly. Unless both of them had decided to conceal something from him. And they’d had plenty of opportunity to talk between themselves, hadn’t they? Especially since Wild had only understood one half of their conversation –)

‘And so,’ Dark Link went on, blessedly silencing the continued spiral of Wild’s thoughts, ‘discounting all of those possibilities brings us to one final option… where we accept the premise of Legend’s statement while also accepting that it doesn’t apply to you.

‘Now, if we think back to the conditions your friend set… “everything living that isn’t created through dark magic”… that was it, wasn’t it? Perhaps there’s a hint in there, somewhere?’

Dark Link paused, looking to Wild for a response. Wild couldn’t seem to find one.

In some of those scattered memories of the before time, Wild could recall a similar sensation: that feeling of something clogged in his throat, or perhaps in his mind. Something stopping the words from forming in the first place, let alone leaving his mouth. What was it that Zelda had said about that, in her diary?

With so much at stake, she had written, and so many eyes upon him, he feels it necessary to stay strong and to silently bear any burden.

It had sounded oddly noble, put like that.

‘You know,’ Dark Link went on shrewdly, ‘it seems to me that if that transformation of yours was going to happen at all, it’s odd that it didn’t happen sooner. Perhaps you’ve built up an immunity, somehow?’

Wild looked over to the frozen forms of Twilight and Legend, then down at the slowly spreading grey tinge to his arms. His throat tightened that little bit more.

He couldn’t say exactly how much time had passed in that dreary darkened realm, but it had surely been at least a few hours. Twilight had transformed the very moment they’d arrived. Legend too, if their unintentional experiment with the enhanced Master Sword had been any indication: he’d managed to regain his human form for a brief moment, but had changed back as soon as the sword was taken away.

‘Of course, if it’s merely a case of your superior will or endurance, you’ve surely outdone both yourself, and your companions,’ Dark Link mused. ‘Truly, a feat worthy of that heroic title of yours.’

Wild gave a short, unamused huff of laughter and looked away.

Outdo Legend or Twilight on sheer will or endurance? Not likely.

Since when was Wild capable of besting any of the heroes at anything?

He swallowed down against the thick, sour feeling in his throat, then lifted his hands and signed reluctantly, ‘Legend said it was supposed to hurt. He said that the more you fight, the more it hurts, even if you’re not fighting it on purpose. But I wasn’t in pain. Not really.’

Discomfort? Sure. Writhing in agony the way Legend had, back in that clearing? Not even close. It was only…

Only that odd chill, so eerily reminiscent of the Shrine of Resurrection.

The blockage on Wild’s throat unexpectedly gave way. Bitter words spilled out before he could think better of them. ‘You knew this would happen, didn’t you?’ he accused aloud.

Dark Link paused. He inspected Wild’s scowling face for a long moment before responding calmly, ‘I can’t read the future, Hero of the Wild.’

‘No, but you still knew,’ retorted Wild. ‘You knew that there was something wrong with me. You’ve known all along, haven’t you? Isn’t that why you approached me in the first place?’

Dark Link merely watched him patiently, and Wild’s temper boiled. He might as well be yelling at a wall.

‘You said all that shit back in my own era about Sheikah technology being based on dark magic, or whatever,’ Wild went on hotly. ‘About how it fucked me up so badly that even the Master Sword barely even recognises me anymore. And you said all that… all that nonsense about light and dark being natural enemies or whatever, and about…’

‘Light and dark are natural enemies, whether we wish it or not,’ Dark Link had said, back then. ‘You carry them both in you now, but that won’t be possible forever.’

‘…About how…’

That insistent voice, so similar to his own, continued to purr into Wild’s mind: ‘If darkness wins and those you love come to betray you, after everything you’ve faced to come this far… everything you’ve suffered and everything you’ve given, always struggling to do what is right… I fear that it will destroy you.’

‘A-and it’s not as if you didn’t know we’d end up here, is it?’ Wild added forcefully. ‘You’re the one who brought Legend here in the first place. Aren’t you? None of the others seemed to realise it, and I didn’t say anything either, but it was you, wasn’t it? And… and with Fado, too. With her whole “that person” and “any of our companions, that person included” thing. You said something to her before we got there, didn’t you? What did you say?’

Dark Link sighed. ‘I wonder what you’re accusing me of, here.’

‘I’m – I’m not accusing, I just… I d-don’t understand, and…’

Wild’s rage faltered in the face of that calm, utterly unimpressed demeanour. Doubt dripped in to fill its place.

He’d already thought that line of inquiry through to its end, hadn’t he? Legend hadn’t been hurt, even though he well could have been, considering Wind and Warriors’s conditions. Fado hadn’t been hurt, either. They’d managed to reconvene, and if anyone had suffered in the process it was surely Dark Link himself, who’d claimed the need to hide himself and yet left behind such obvious traces of his presence.

Wild shuddered and drew his arms in on himself, new claws snagging discomfortingly on the fabric of his tunic. ‘Why aren’t you saying anything?’ he demanded unsteadily.

‘What is there to say?’ Dark Link asked tiredly. ‘Yes. Obviously, big bad Dark Link has been busying himself with dastardly schemes and evil plots while the real heroes continue their holy quest to save the world. As was the case when you and I first met. You are, of course, aware of how those portals work? I travelled through one to get to your own era, so it’s logical to assume that I arrived in the next world through the same means, is it not? If you’d like to find something suspicious in that, or in the genuine, heartfelt advice and warnings I’ve given to you thus far… by all means, my dear hero. You’re entitled to do so, aren’t you? Grown, decision-making adult that you are?’

Faced with that deluge of calm, patronising logic, Wild certainly didn’t feel like a grown adult. Wild felt like a small, pathetic child, throwing a foolish tantrum.

His eyes prickled. ‘I just… I only wanted…’

‘Yes. I think I can guess what you wanted,’ Dark Link said gently. ‘Hero of the Wild… quite the title, isn’t it? Say. Has it been enjoyable, embracing that new name? Acting like it suits you?’

Wild flinched. ‘I’m… Zelda said that title was… it, I mean, wasn’t just given to me recently. A lot of people have apparently… been using…’

‘Naturally,’ said Dark Link. ‘It’s a well-earned title, I’m sure. I only wondered if it had become a burden to you, in some ways? It must be difficult to live up to such a name.’

Wild vacillated. ‘W-well… it’s not that… not really? I mean… maybe I’m just… overreacting?’

‘Overreacting?’ Dark Link asked sceptically. ‘In what sense?’

‘Uh… well…’ Wild gave a forced laugh. ‘Sorry. I… mean… I have kind of a h-habit of doing that, right? So, you know… this t-transformation thing. Or the whole, y’know, Shrine of Resurrection dark magic thing. If that is a thing. Maybe it… isn’t actually such a big deal?

‘Sure, it’s… I might look weird right now, but it’s not as if it’s actually h-hurting anyone, right? And… yeah, ok, Twi said that dark magic wasn’t always the most… and Legend didn’t seem exactly…’

(Legend, who’d described that forced transformation as the most painful thing he’d ever experienced, Twilight, who, just the other day, had taken Wild aside and told him exactly why he didn’t want the truth of his lupine transformation to be shared –)

‘I just mean,’ Wild pressed on determinedly, ‘th-that Twilight was so worried about how everyone was going to take the wolf thing, but it ended up being fine. No one had any issues with it, even though it involved the use of dark magic. A-and I mean, in my case I’m not even using… I’m not even using dark magic. Actively, at least. Obviously not. I mean, I wouldn’t know where to even start. So even if the shrine itself d-did something, it’s not as if –’

‘Not as if you were the one who decided to use it, no,’ Dark Link surmised calmly.

Wild flinched. A trace of doubt snuck in. ‘W-well…’

‘You weren’t, though, were you?’ Dark Link pressed. ‘Though, I am curious: would you have chosen differently? If it had been your choice?’

Would he have chosen differently?

Would he have chosen to simply… what? To simply die back there, in Blatchery Plain? To free the Shrine up for someone else?

Wild thought back to those first few moments after emerging from that dark, dusty, dismal room. He remembered that gorgeous vista, that crisp breath of morning air, that feeling of grass beneath his feet as he ran freely from the Shrine of Resurrection, looking down over the vast, beautiful land of Hyrule that seemed to stretch onwards and outwards forever. Feeling like the luckiest creature that had ever existed, if only for the sheer joy of existing in that moment. Going off to eat raw mushrooms and cackling himself silly at just how bad they tasted, how dense and fibrous and real…

‘I…’ Wild choked on his own words and fought against the tightness in his throat. ‘I only…’

That simple, unbothered happiness had slowly soured as he learned more and more about that vast world and his own place in it. As he learned that those shattered, broken ruins weren’t just exciting playgrounds for a reckless, foolish amnesiac but instead a relentless parade of unmarked, undecorated mass graves. As he learned that people had died, that people he’d probably once cared about had died – for all that his detached, cavalier future self cared – and that he alone had been saved. Learning that it was, at least partially – and probably mostly, if Wild was honest – his own fault, and that if he’d only been stronger, if he’d only done better –

‘In any case,’ Dark Link continued mercifully, ‘I suppose it’s too late now. But to answer your question as to whether it’s a “big deal” to use dark magic to raise someone from death – from true death, that is, to not just fix a broken body but to actually call an untethered soul back from the Abyss? It’s certainly not a small deal, Wild.

‘Perhaps your friends were unaware of the gravity of it. Perhaps they haven’t really understood how that shrine of yours differs from the magic of a fairy or of a powerful Zora mage. Perhaps they thought that the Triforce or some other divine power was involved somehow… because if they did realise dark magic was behind it, I think they would then want to know: what, exactly, was the cost of that ritual? Who, or what, was sacrificed in order to bring about that miracle?’

‘S-sacrifice?’ Wild repeated tightly.

‘You said before that the dark magic within you hadn’t actually hurt anyone… but I wonder if you actually know that for sure?’ Dark Link’s lip lifted in a small, sardonic smile. ‘See, dark magic of this nature requires significantly more power than that little piece of jewellery that the Hero of Twilight wears. And that power has to come from somewhere.

‘You don’t have to take my word for it, of course. Why not ask your hero friends? Rare as such things are, they ought to know of at least one other person brought back to life through dark magic… can you guess who I mean?’

Wild forced the answer past numb lips. ‘Ganon.’

‘Yes,’ said Dark Link. ‘And if you were to ask either the Hero of Legend or the Hero of Hyrule… perhaps even the Hero of Twilight… if you were to ask any of them what it took to make that possible… ah, but I would suggest being quite careful about when and how you ask. Lest any secrets of your own come to light, that is.

‘In any case… perhaps it’s best not to know? Perhaps everyone would be happier that way? You, and your friends as well. Perhaps it’s better to not name the price that was paid for that precious, hard-won life of yours. Even if no one blamed you for it, even though it isn’t really your fault as such, it’s hard to believe they’d continue to look at you the same way if they knew the truth.’

Something dark and hollow yawned within Wild’s chest. ‘This is… an interesting th-theory and all,’ he said shakily, ‘but it doesn’t actually ch-change anything. Whatever h-happened back then is o-over now, and the others… they w-wanted me to come with them. They said that r-repeatedly. Even when I… w-well, it’s n-not as though they knew everything, but… s-surely…’

And a part of Wild suddenly wondered: had they actually known enough?

They’d known he’d been hesitant to join them, but had they known why? Wild certainly hadn’t explained himself. Had Zelda told them anything? Had she told them enough?

Had she told Sky, who’d been ever so confident in Wild’s ability to wield the Master Sword, that the blade had burned Wild’s own hands ever since he’d emerged from the Shrine? Zelda had known that much, at least, even if she’d seemed to think it was an acceptable side effect of his hundred year slumber.

‘I don’t want your damn apologies,’ she’d snarled at him. ‘Now or ever. Not when it comes to the one thing that I will never, ever regret.’

The memory of her voice – suddenly so far away, across time and space – tugged at the edges of that hungry pit in Wild’s chest, tearing it deeper and wider. He shuddered.

And what about Legend? Wild had told him a few things, at least. Maybe not about the sword, or about Dark Link’s claims about the Shrine of Resurrection (he hadn’t even known to ask, back when they’d had their talk), but he’d at least explained the Calamity itself. He’d told Legend about his broken memories, about his near misses and near failures after awakening, and he’d… explained it properly, surely? Surely he had, hadn’t he?

But had Legend actually understood just how bad the Calamity had been? Or had he simply seen a poor, weak, snivelling child break down into tears and felt enough pity to pretend it didn’t matter?

The warm prickling in Wild’s eyes finally spilled over. ‘I thought I was done with this,’ he said thickly. ‘I thought that as long as I managed to make it through that first portal, I…’ He let out a self-deprecating laugh. ‘Fuck. I was gonna… bake Zelda a c-cake.’

Dark Link shifted, somewhere nearby. ‘A cake?’

Of all the nonsensical words Wild could have chosen to utter aloud. Ah, well. ‘Fucking… gratitude cake,’ Wild clarified with a hectic chuckle. ‘And I was gonna learn semaphore. Relearn semaphore, I mean. Because I… because I forgot how to do the “t”. And…’

Wild wanted to go home, all of a sudden.

He wanted to see Zelda again, he wanted to find a little quiet corner to break down in – ideally one without any well-meaning yet deeply disquieting shadowy doppelgängers – and he wanted to maybe just forget everything and go to sleep for another hundred years. Maybe if he did that, things would go back to making sense by the time he woke up again.

‘What am I even going to tell them?’ Wild asked dully. ‘The other heroes, I mean. They’ll have noticed, right? That there’s something wrong with me? Even if I still don’t really… don’t really understand what it is. Even if I still don’t really understand any of this. Not really.’

Out of the corner of his horrible new eyes, Wild saw Dark Link carefully scoot himself just a little closer, allowing his ashen copy to lay a gentle, cold hand on Wild’s shoulder.

‘There’s still a lot that both you and I don’t know or understand about this, isn’t there?’ Dark Link murmured. ‘The same is surely true of your friends. With that being the case, Wild… I wonder if you really need to tell them anything at all.’

Wild looked up sharply. ‘What?’

Dark Link gave him a gentle smile. ‘All you need, dear hero,’ he advised, ‘is a reasonable excuse. Some way to brush off their suspicions. At least until you manage to get out of this place, or to get your hands on a moon pearl.’

‘A… moon pearl?’ asked Wild. ‘You mean Time’s moon pearl?’

‘Hmm? That is an intriguing suggestion, but not quite what I was thinking,’ said Dark Link. He paused, looking Wild over, then went on, ‘Say, Just Link. Or, if you prefer: Hero of the Wild… shall I help you?’

‘Above!’ snapped Legend. He flattened himself to the dust-choked floor as Twilight lunged for the wallmaster targeting Wild’s vulnerable slumped form.

Much as Legend would have loved to help out, he was, admittedly, a) small, fluffy and lacking in most forms of non-combustible melee weapons, and b) really starting to feel whatever Wild had been saying earlier about rabbit muscles not being good at marathon endurance. Not that he couldn’t move or fight at all, just that Twilight was right there, so it was probably fine for him to just take a short break for once and let someone else –

‘Fuck!’ yelped Legend as the dank dungeon ceiling saw fit, once again, to drip dank dungeon water onto his furry little head.

Twilight startled at the exclamation, deadly jaws still packed with mangled monster parts, only to roll his eyes at the sight of Legend’s continued suffering. He finished off his foe and spat it out with a low, disgusted rumble, then commented unhelpfully, ‘You look like a wet rat.’

Legend glared back, feeling thoroughly dishevelled, thoroughly cold and wet and thoroughly done with the entire ordeal. ‘Who the fuck builds an element themed dungeon and puts the water part above and the wind part below?’ he snapped. ‘It’s fucking leaking. I swear, if we get through this dungeon and meet that so-called sage again, I’m lodging a formal complaint.’

Legend’s dog-brained companion of course chose that moment to shake himself off, splattering Legend all over again. ‘It’s just a bit of water,’ Twilight said nonchalantly.

‘Easy for you to s-say!’ Legend bit back. ‘Not all of us have waterproof c-coats.’

Twilight considered. His ears flicked abruptly back against his head. ‘Shit,’ he uttered, ‘are you ok? You’re not freezing to death or anything, are you?’

Legend was spared the necessity of a response as Wild finally stirred. With relief singing through his veins, he bounded over immediately (ouch, right in the rabbit muscles), letting Twilight follow at his own pace. ‘Wild!’ he called. ‘You with us?’

Wild gave a few disoriented blinks, then lurched upwards and into a seated position.

‘Easy,’ scolded Legend, surely not for the first time that day. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Wild. ‘How long was I out for?’

Fucking liar ratbag kids and their “I’m fine”s (who taught him that? Better not have been Hyrule). Legend gave Wild the most disapproving glare he could muster while in rabbit form and replied, ‘Only a few minutes.’

‘R-really?!’ Wild asked, sounding genuinely startled. ‘I – I mean… that’s good.’

‘I guess?’ Legend said dubiously, eyeing the younger hero’s pale complexion. As far as his rabbit ears could tell, Wild’s heart rate had evened out at least, as had his breathing. Even so –

‘Ask him why he passed out,’ Twilight contributed from the side.

Legend spared him a brief, unimpressed glare. Turning back to Wild, he demanded, ‘So, what happened? Why the collapse? You injured? Or sick?’

‘Ah… no,’ Wild responded, gaze dropping to the floor. ‘I think it was, uh… the pain, maybe?’

Legend tensed. ‘Pain?!’

‘Yeah,’ said Wild. ‘I think… uh, I forgot about this earlier, but Zelda previously told me that I have some sort of, umm… innate resistance to dark magic. That’s probably why this whole –’ he gestured vaguely at himself ‘– transformation thing didn’t happen earlier. But given we’ve been here for so long… I guess it had to happen, sooner or later. Or start to happen, at least. And you would, umm, know… that it’s a bit, uh, painful.’

‘Oh…’ Legend deflated, sympathy twinging within him. He did in fact know. ‘So you were in so much pain you passed out?’ He frowned. ‘That’s bad, huh? Like… a ten on Roolie’s scale, right?’

‘The one where stab wounds are a five and lightning strikes are an eight?’

Legend blinked. ‘Huh?’

‘Before sucked, but I’m probably only a three or four right now,’ Wild concluded. ‘I’ll let you know if it gets bad again. Promise.’

That… seemed like an unusual promise for Wild to make. Legend levelled him a suspicious stare. ‘Three or four still means you’re in pain,’ he pointed out. ‘You got anything in that slate of yours to help with that?’

Wild shrugged. He produced a small green vial and took a casual swig. ‘Problem solved,’ he concluded, for all that Legend was relatively sure that that had only been a stamina potion. He lifted himself up and stood there, wobbling for a moment. ‘We should keep moving.’

Wild still looked terribly pale and unwell. Legend hesitated, deeply unhappy with the idea of letting a sick, trembling kid (seventeen still counted for kid status; that was only Hyrule plus a birthday or so) walk around, but similarly unhappy with their current cold, dripping, monster-infested location. ‘You sure?’ he checked. ‘I don’t want to see you pass out again. Right, Fido?’

Twilight grunted a distracted affirmative, canine body language looking just as concerned as Legend felt.

Wild shook his head confidently. ‘It won’t happen again,’ he told them. ‘Really. I think the worst is over, anyway.’ He gave a brief, unconvincing laugh and added, ‘And hey: at least I know what my Twilight Realm form is n-now, right? I was, uh, feeling left out. I – I mean, the transformation isn’t finished yet, obviously, but from what’s uh, what I can see so far, like, the eyes and all, it… it looks like this new animal Zelda found recently. They’re called dondons. Big lizardy-rhino things. They look scary, but they’re really docile. And apparently, they’re, uh, super rare, and maybe just n-new? Or previously endangered? So they, uh… might not actually e-exist in your eras.’

‘Dondons?’ Legend repeated. He looked up at those strange orange eyes, then down to Wild’s clawed hands. Big lizards, huh? Legend frowned. ‘Like… dodongos?’

‘Don’t compare him to a monster,’ growled Twilight.

Legend bristled. ‘Fuck you, mutt; one of my best friends is a dodongo.’

‘What?!’ barked Twilight.

‘W-what?!’ asked Wild, flinching visibly at either Legend’s words or Twilight’s barked response. ‘Uh. D-dodongos, huh?’ he stuttered. ‘It… might be like that? Maybe? A-anyway, we should, uh… we should keep moving.’

With that proclamation made, Wild quickly turned and began to stride away – not towards the exit, of course, but instead the corridor leading further into the dungeon.

Concern stirred sharply as Legend watched Wild’s rigid posture. ‘You think we maybe should have invested in some pain potions after all?’ he asked aloud – half to Twilight and half to himself.

Twilight gave an exasperated grumble in response. Before Legend could quite puzzle the noise out, he felt those terrifying predator jaws close around him, lifting him up from the ground and onto the wolf’s back.

‘Worry about yourself sometimes too, would you?’ Twilight said snidely.

Legend glared down at him and resolutely snapped, ‘Fuck off, you hypocrite.’

Chapter Text

‘There’s really nothing good to say about water-themed dungeons, is there?’ Time remarked as he paused to catch his breath, idly nudging a dead tektite with the point of his sword.

If Hyrule had any thoughts on the matter – indeed, if Hyrule had even paid enough attention to form an opinion on the matter – he kept them to himself, instead fixing his attention on the treasure chest that had flickered into existence on a platform in the centre of the room.

Magic crackled in the soles of the younger hero’s scuffed travelling boots, lifting him a few centimetres above the water surface as he strode across to claim their prize. Time watched as he opened the chest.

As the two of them had set out on the elevator and up the stairs to the right of the temple, Time had suspected, if only from the rapid pace he’d allowed his companion to set, that there had been some unspoken hope between them that this third segment of the dungeon would be small, simple and swift to traverse compared to the previous ones. That hope had been dashed the moment they stepped out of the swerving blue passageway and into a spiral tower of polished white and grey stone, with a staircase leading to at least three entire levels of doors and passageways. It was then dashed all over again as they discovered the deep pool at the base of the room, complete with yet more stairs leading downwards, fashionably aquatic this time. Above it had been a locked grate – sparing them, for the moment, the debate over whether to try swimming – and to the side, an impressive machine with three conspicuous holes, each clearly awaiting an item that might convince them to move.

‘This thing probably controls the water level,’ Hyrule had concluded sourly, one failed attempt at applying his magical key to the problem later. ‘I’m pretty sure Legend’s adventures involved something like that.’

Time had merely sighed and remarked plaintively, ‘Water temples.’

Which had, of course, brought them to this latest of several wild goose chases through a dungeon that Time was relatively sure had not been quite so complex in the past.

Most of the area was utterly foreign to him, but a glance out the window revealed hints of the ancient, overgrown sunlit courtyards Time recalled from long ago. There were no obvious entry points, though if Wild had been in better shape, Time might have suggested that he (safely and stealthily) scout out the walls for them, just in case.

But Wild wasn’t in better shape. And that was exactly the problem, wasn’t it?

Time frowned as his attention strayed to that chaotic second boss fight once more. The way Wild’s eyes had gone blank and empty, limbs moving jerkily as a marionette. The way he had simply collapsed in a limp pile once freed from the monster’s hold. Those agonising, frantic moments in between when that happened and when Time was able to confirm for himself that the newest member of the Chain was only unconscious, not dead.

It wasn’t as if Time hadn’t known something was wrong. For all that Wild himself had seemed determined to push through it, Time had had a choice there, too. He could easily have overruled Wild’s protest, could easily have told him to stay back and rest. And yet –

‘You’re just a kid, sprite,’ Warriors had slurred at him the previous night. ‘Not your job to look after me.’

Time’s throat tightened. He shook his head and dragged his attention back to the present moment.

Hyrule was still standing silently before the open treasure chest. ‘So?’ prompted Time.

Hyrule turned and reluctantly proffered a large, vaguely mechanical object with a bright yellow handle on one end and a thick hexagonal rod on the other. ‘I think it’s one of the missing parts from that machine in the other room,’ he answered.

‘I think you’re right,’ Time agreed, upon inspection. ‘If I recall correctly, there were three slots, weren’t they? The other two keys must be somewhere nearby as well.’

Hyrule bristled a little as he stubbornly pointed out, ‘We might only need the one.’

‘…It’s possible,’ Time conceded doubtfully, ‘and I suppose we may as well check.’

Something like defeat reflected back at him from his companion’s eyes. Hyrule turned and led the way back downstairs at a light jog.

It didn’t take long to confirm their fears. Time noticed the colour-coding immediately, but didn’t intervene as Hyrule attempted to fit the yellow crank into the blue slot, followed by the red one and then finally its matching hue.

The key slid in smoothly. Hyrule twisted the crank three times counterclockwise, and, with a sudden gurgling noise and a mechanical clunk, the water in the pool beside them started to drain away. A moment later, right as the flow of water halted, the grate closest to them opened, revealing a second one further down. No matter how Hyrule tugged at it, the yellow crank refused to move any further.

It had been a long day, Time reflected. For all of them. And while he had, as an adult, come to hold himself above vulgar language – whether for the sake of appeasing a prospective father-in-law or as the result of a certain hypocritical army captain’s scolding – Time decided Hyrule had, perhaps, earned some lenience as far as the resulting litany of expletives was concerned.

‘Water temples,’ Time concluded blandly, ‘nothing good about them. Nothing at all.’

‘Let’s just get this over with,’ growled Hyrule.

‘Agreed.’

Tiny claws dug into Twilight’s hide as he and his tiny pink passenger lurched back from the sudden, vehement shower that splattered down through the cracked ceiling. Legend let out a rapid string of curses and a matching bout of high-pitched, miniature sneezes. It might have been adorable in other circumstances.

No, who was Twilight kidding? It was still adorable. Just… not quite as enjoyable as it could have been, what with the fresh-in-mind reminder of the not-so-waterproof nature of Legend’s fur.

‘Are you ok?’ Twilight called worriedly. ‘You didn’t get wet again, did you?’

There was gross, wet noise, placed in the tragic vicinity of Twilight’s ruff, yet Legend’s tone was as stubbornly snarky as ever as he responded, ‘Worry about that l-later. Pay attention, mutt. We’re f-falling behind.’

It was true, unfortunately, and Twilight let out a growl as he chased after the fast-vanishing third member of their little team, torn once again between relief at his companion’s unexpected second wind and overwhelming irritation at the inconvenience.

By the time they caught up, Wild had made his way down an entire flight of stairs and midway down a long, wide curved corridor. He was kneeling before a cracked stone wall with one of those strange, cube-shaped bombs clasped awkwardly between his clawed hands. He dropped it on the floor and took a few steps back, reaching for the slate clipped to his belt. Before things could go any further than that, Twilight snapped his jaws onto the tattered remnants of Wild’s sleeve and gave a muffled growl.

Wild startled and looked back. ‘What?’

‘Farm boy says to s-slow down or else he’ll s-sit on you again,’ Legend miraculously translated. ‘Where’s the f-fire, anyway?’

‘…Fire?’ Wild repeated vaguely. Strange, slit pupiled eyes flicked over the room.

‘F-figure of speech,’ said Legend. He sneezed. ‘I m-mean, what’s the h-hurry? I’m as s-sick of this place as you are, but you can’t just r-run off like th-th-that.’

Wild’s brow creased. He stepped closer and leaned in to ask, ‘Are you ok?’

‘Just c-cold,’ answered Legend. ‘F-fucking leaky sh-shithole of a d-dungeon, I s-swear – h-hey, what are you –?!’

Somewhere in the midst of that stammered complaint, the damp, exhausted creature riding business class on Twilight’s back was snatched up and delicately swaddled into Wild’s bundled up cloak. ‘Sorry,’ Wild said guiltily. ‘I really should have noticed that, huh? And what about you, Twi? Are you ok?’

Reluctantly, Twilight relinquished his hold on Wild’s sleeve, spat out a few stray threads and barked out a reassurance.

‘That fucker’s f-fine,’ huffed Legend. ‘But l-listen for a moment, ok?’ He paused for a moment, snuggling into Wild’s cloak, and when he spoke again, his voice was a little steadier. ‘We can’t just rush off on our own like this, you know? The others can’t be far off. And I know you say you’re fine now, but if the th-three of us go off and fight Mothula like this, it’s not gonna end well. You know that, right?’

Wild’s strange new eyes flickered shiftily to the side. ‘I know that,’ he accepted, to Twilight’s surprise, ‘but we haven’t even found the boss door yet, have we?’ He paused, eyes flickering down to the bundle of cloth and rabbit in his arms. ‘With the other two areas, there was a big, fancy door leading up to the room with the boss, wasn’t there? So unless we go through that door, we won’t have to worry about it.

‘If you don’t want to come with, that’s fine,’ Wild pressed on, even as Twilight made to interject (seriously; the number of near-misses they’d had with non-boss monsters and traps). ‘I’ll set you down, and you can wait. Or you can head back to the others, if you prefer. But I’m not going to sit around waiting for this to get worse.’ He splayed his new claws out for emphasis, then turned back to the cracked wall.

‘Wild –’ Twilight began to argue.

The cube-shape bomb exploded.

The way ahead cleared to reveal a small chamber holding only a single treasure chest pressed up against a tall, carved pillar of dark stone.

To the side, Wild blinked slowly, expression oddly slack. ‘Wait, really?’ he asked aloud.

Twilight levelled him a quizzical look and waited for an explanation. Wild did not deign to provide one.

For his own part, Legend went silent for a good handful of seconds, nose twitching rapidly, before he abruptly burst out, ‘So are you gonna open that thing, or what?’

Twilight’s ears flicked back. ‘You and your damn magpie tendencies,’ he growled.

‘What?! I’m just saying: he might as well!’ Legend sputtered. ‘I mean, it’s already there!’

‘Sure. I guess,’ Wild allowed. He stepped forward, shifted Legend to a one-handed hold, and tilted the lid of the chest.

‘A-anyway!’ Legend continued, ‘It’s about time we found something! This whole damn dungeon has been stingier than my tax-evading squatter trying to haggle on groceries!’

‘Erm,’ said Wild.

‘Give me rupees! Items! Something!’ whinged Legend.

‘I think it’s a bomb,’ said Wild.

‘Wait, what?’ said Legend.

‘What?’ said Twilight.

They all looked inside the box.

A massive, fizzling explosive, complete with oversized skull and crossbones patterning, looked back at them.

‘Oh,’ said Legend. ‘Huh.’

‘Yeah,’ said Wild.

As evident sole custodian, for the time being, of their collective’s collective braincell, Twilight lodged his jaws into the hem of Wild’s cloak and sensibly dragged his companions from the room.

BOOM.

There was a muffled crash from somewhere below – distant, clearly, but loud enough for Time to pause mid-step, gaze falling downwards.

‘What are you doing?’ Hyrule called irritably.

Time frowned, but shook his head. ‘I just thought I heard… never mind.’

‘What the fuck?’ yelped Legend. ‘After everything else, did they really have to put trapped treasure chests in here?! I take it back; even Ravio isn’t this stingy!’

Wild tuned out the rest of the complaint, along with Twilight’s incomprehensible response to it, and carefully edged forwards to peer into the remains of the other room.

The treasure chest was completely gone, and the pillar it had been placed against lay in shattered pieces across the floor. Beyond the debris was only a remarkably undamaged, slightly convex wall made of gleaming pale stone, intricately carved in the shape of a front-facing bird with a wide, oversized beak. The smooth material continued upwards and across the ceiling, only to collide in mismatched seams with the darker stone of the cracked and pitted walls to either side and the old, dusty floor beneath.

One dungeon structure, with two completely different styles of architecture.

Like something slotted into place.

Something that could, perhaps, be slid out of place.

‘Four pillars. Placed in a square, like so,’ Dark Link had explained, fingers skimming over a diagram etched in charcoal on the floor. ‘You’ll know what to do when you get there. I would suggest you don’t tarry.’

A sharp, itching in his palms drew Wild’s gaze down to find that his clenched fingers and the wicked nails attached to them had once again drawn blood. He drew in a deep breath and forced himself to untense.

With all the strangeness this new adventure had already brought him, he supposed it wasn’t so strange, comparatively, for him to have accurately hallucinated a map to a dungeon he’d never actually visited before. For that matter, maybe he had visited it before, back in the pre-Shrine of Resurrection era. Maybe that was how he knew. Maybe all this was just another memory finally emerging from its long slumber. Or maybe it had been the real Dark Link after all, newly-equipped with the power to speak directly into Wild’s fucked up brain, much like Zelda before him.

Hell if Wild knew.

There was some sort of pressure sitting in Wild’s chest, making each breath a battle of will. Wild wasn’t entirely unaware of its presence, nor was he entirely unfamiliar with the physical hints of an impending breakdown, he was just… not particularly interested in dealing with that, at least for the moment. Later, maybe. Legend and Twilight were already suspicious enough, but maybe if he played his cards right, they’d let it go. Wild just had to hold himself together for a little bit longer.

Only a little bit longer.

Wild turned towards the next room and took another few steps forwards, then a few more. That was all it took, after all: just build up momentum, then just keep moving until the job is done. So long as you didn’t let yourself stop, you wouldn’t have to. Not until you were actively dying, that was, and despite that persistent sensation in his chest that tried to argue otherwise, Wild was relatively sure his vitals were in order. More or less.

‘We should keep moving,’ Wild told his companions once again. The words came out terse and mechanical. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

Step by step, second by second, Wild let himself slip further into the haze of motion.

‘Do you think the others are ok?’ Hyrule asked abruptly, right as Time lifted his head out of the water with the sad contents of a submerged chest placed triumphantly in his left hand.

Moving slightly slower than strictly necessary, Time pulled himself the rest of the way out and spared an extra moment to shake the excess water from his clothing and pull his regular leather boots back on. The enchantments on his clothing held up, leaving him only slightly damp rather than wretchedly sodden.

‘I found the compass,’ Time stalled, presenting the item for Hyrule’s inspection. ‘Not what we were looking for, but that should make our task easier, moving forwards.’

‘Time,’ pressed Hyrule.

Time sighed. The well-buried but recently-exhumed Kokiri part of him rebelled at the easy answer he couldn’t quite believe himself. It settled as he listed the facts of the situation: ‘We left them in a safe area, with Twilight to keep the other two in check. And even if he has a bit of a reckless streak –’ slight understatement ‘– Legend wouldn’t let that put Wild in danger. You checked on Wild, too, remember? As far as both of us could tell, he was stable enough when we left him.’

Hyrule deflated. ‘You’re right,’ he said quietly. ‘Sorry. I just… I don’t like this. Being separated, I mean.’

‘I don’t either,’ Time agreed, ‘but you can place a little faith in the others, I think. And realistically, you and I are in far more danger, wouldn’t you say? So let’s stay focused.’

With those words said, Time pulled out their map and pressed the newly discovered compass against it. With a small flash of arcane light, the compass melted into the page and reappeared as an illustrated wind rose in the corner. At the same time, a set of small, brightly-coloured markings bloomed across the map. Time quickly noted the bright scarlet arrow that represented his own position, along with a cute approximation of Hyrule’s face beside it. It was easy enough to locate the two closest treasure chests from there.

‘I think I can see the remaining keys,’ Time was relieved to report. ‘It shouldn’t take too much more –’

His eye caught on the lower parts of the map. He halted.

‘What is it?!’ Hyrule demanded, clambering in to blindly scan over the paper clutched in Time’s hands.

Time cleared his throat. ‘I… simply noticed something… surprising,’ he said stiltedly. ‘See, it looks like this compass shows each of our positions, which is very… useful.’

‘Isn’t that normal?’ Hyrule asked suspiciously.

‘All of our positions,’ Time clarified. He pointed at the three small illustrations marked on the bottom half of the map: a wolf, a rabbit and a mildly-unflattering etching of a Wild’s own face. ‘See? There are the others, still on the same floor where we left them.’

It was probably a good thing that Hyrule wasn’t particularly good at reading maps, and that he didn’t seem to pick up on the nuance of that phrasing. In sharp contrast to Time’s own mounting anxiety, he brightened, shoulders slackening with relief as he breathed, ‘They’re ok.’

‘Yes. It seems so,’ Time said shortly, ‘so let’s quickly finish our task and join them.’

And if there was just a little more urgency in Time’s own pace from that moment onwards, Hyrule didn’t seem to mind.

Several more monster fights and puzzles – and at least two additional rumblings from the basement (what the hell were they even doing, down there?) – saw Time and Hyrule standing victorious at the top of the spiral staircase, final piece of the puzzle in hand. Time did the honours of fitting the remaining crank into place and turning it with a soft grunt of exertion. The two of them approached the spiral staircase and watched as the remaining water drained away to reveal the far distant base of the pool, and hints of a passageway leading off to the side.

Thankfully, that seemed to be it: one final careful descent through a long, echoey, damp artificial sinkhole later, and there they were, standing before a large, ornate blue doorway.

‘Ready?’ asked Time.

Hyrule nodded resolutely. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

Together, they opened the door.

Water sloshed around Time’s ankles and the temperature noticeably dropped as he and Hyrule cautiously stepped inside, letting those familiar iron bars slam down behind them.

Eerie blue fire danced across the walls and the flooded, hexagonal chamber floor, emanating from the ancient braziers placed at either side of a set of grinning stone demons. Streams of water fell endlessly from their open mouths while burbling echoes bounced around the room like the voices of a crowded street. At the centre of it all, Time could see a set of small, circular ripples, slowly spreading out to the edges of the room.

Time looked up.

A gigantic, gelatinous mass crashed down.

Hyrule shouted in alarm, but recovered almost instantly, brandishing his borrowed clawshot towards their enemy. Time hastened to do the same.

When Legend had described Arrghus to them, Time had expected it to look something like the monster from Termina’s Great Bay Temple. Either he was wrong, or he’d forgotten just how horrifying that monster had been.

A forest of huge, humanoid eyeballs, each a different size, shape and colour, leered out at him from their round capsules, twitching and turning with each minute movement he and Hyrule made. Bright red nerves trailed freely behind each one, utterly disconnected from the lumpy, jellyfish-shaped monster that formed the monster's main body.

(It occurred to Time, briefly, to wonder where exactly that monster had come from. If it had been plucked out of some other dungeon somewhere, if it had been scraped off its natural habitat in some distant, horrible location, or if, similar to the Manhandla from earlier, similar to those abominations hidden below Kakariko Village –)

A gelled capsule tore free and bounced towards him. Time swallowed back his revulsion, set aside those stray wonderings, and slashed with the Biggoron Sword. The first swing cut the bubble open, leaving the gruesome eye twitching and flailing in the shallow water. The second swing stilled its panicked movements for good.

It went on like that for a while, with Time and his companion carefully edging their way around the slow-moving bulk of Arrghus’s main body, leaving plenty of room to react to each bubble that jettisoned towards them. It wasn’t difficult as such, just unnerving, and Time was grateful all over again for the protective charms that kept the growing muck decidedly outside of his boots.

Eventually, Arrghus’s true form was fully visible, with only three or four smaller blobs still clinging to the gigantic single eye that served for a face.

‘Ready for phase two?’ Hyrule panted from the side.

Time nodded grimly and swapped out his sword for his bow. He asked, ‘Got your shield spell ready?’

Hyrule’s only response was a muttered incantation and complicated hand gesture. Time’s vision turned slightly red as the spell wrapped around the two of them.

Although less powerful than Time’s own shielding spell, the resource drain from Hyrule’s magical armour was far lower. They’d decided the trade-off was worth it.

As planned, the two of them split up and backed away from the boss monster. From a distance, Hyrule plucked the last few jelly blobs free with his new clawshot, still slightly awkward and clumsy with the unfamiliar tool, and Time readied a light arrow.

The first shot went off without a hitch. Before Time could finish nocking a second, the monster let out an echoing screech and leapt into the air.

It slammed back down in front of Time with enough force to send him sprawling. He had the sense to maintain a grip of his bow, but not enough to prevent his quiver from spilling its contents across the floor. He snagged a stray arrow as it fell and rapid-fired a haphazard volley directly into the monster’s eye, smirking grimly as it struck home. Not bad for an “old man”, he noted.

One of Hyrule’s fireballs struck the monster from behind, drawing its attention, and Time took the opportunity to climb back to his feet. Along the way, he scooped a few extra arrows up between his fingers.

The floor shook once again as Arrghus slammed down before Hyrule, and Time braced himself, more than a little unnerved by the tremoring stone (just another arena in a perfectly stable dungeon, don’t think about Termina, definitely don’t think about giant celestial bodies falling down to earth). He fumbled for an arrow, then looked up to find his companion high up in the air, sword pointed downwards.

The daring attack landed perfectly. A wretched wail rose from somewhere around where Arrghus’s tentacles met its bulbous head, and Time’s heart leapt into his throat as the monster jumped upwards once again, with a small and determined teenage hero still clinging on for dear life.

Time gave a desperate shout: ‘Hyrule!’

The monster crashed back down… and then splattered, deflated and went still.

Hyrule landed lightly on his enchanted boots and stood there, panting, covered in sticky, slimy gore. He grimaced as he inspected his filthy sword.

‘You and Legend were right,’ he concluded faintly, ‘water-themed dungeons are awful.’

Much as Hyrule would have liked to rush blindly from the room and back to the others, he and Time had managed to drop more than a few items between them, and while he could take or leave the borrowed clawshot – difficult to aim, constantly getting jammed, more trouble than it was worth, really – he would really rather have his shield available for whatever the dungeon threw at them next. And maybe his resolve was tested a little upon finding said shield buried beneath a pile of gooey monster eyeballs, but it was fine. He’d rinsed it and everything. And dead monster parts faded quickly if you left them out for a bit. Convenient, that.

‘Ok, I think I’m ready,’ Hyrule announced.

Time gave an absent nod, gaze fixed on the creased page that was their overcomplicated dungeon map. Slowly, he folded it up and tucked it away once again. ‘Shall we, then?’

Hyrule paused to ask, ‘Is something wrong?’

Time grimaced. ‘Not wrong per se,’ he equivocated, ‘but you should probably know in advance. How about I explain things as we walk?’

‘Well… alright, then,’ Hyrule accepted reluctantly. It wasn’t hard to recognise that Time was stalling. Just what was his “not wrong per se” issue?

He was left wondering as Time led the way back through the blue door and up the spiral staircase. They were already about halfway to the top before the older hero spoke once again.

‘You fought well, by the way,’ Time offered unexpectedly. ‘You really are powerful. Both with your sword, and with your magic. It’s incredible, what you can do.’

Hyrule slipped a little on the damp steps, barely managing to catch himself on the railing. He gave an awkward chuckle and replied, ‘Uh… not really. But thanks anyway.’

Time turned to raise an eyebrow. With the height difference combined with the stairs, Hyrule found he had to crane his neck more than a little to meet that gaze. ‘I mean it,’ Time insisted. ‘We made a good team just now, didn’t we?’

Something tightened in Hyrule’s throat. ‘Sure,’ he managed to reply. ‘I guess.’ He let his gaze drop back down to the slippery steps. ‘You, uh. Same to you. Good fight.’

If Hyrule was honest, Time had done most of the work in that last battle. A few lucky swings, and one very lucky stab at the end: that was Hyrule’s contribution. That, along with several clumsy misses with a tool his predecessor had used without issue on many previous occasions. Not only that, but there was a reason why Time had used his bow and Hyrule hadn’t, even though he certainly owned one. Hyrule could maybe shoot in a straight line if he lined it up, if he was careful, and if the monsters just stayed nice and still for as long as it took for him to make an attempt or three. In any other situation, he was about as likely to hit a friend as he was a foe.

(He’d die before he let Legend find out about the time he’d stabbed Ganon with a silver arrow by hand.)

He made to take another step forwards, only to realise Time had halted in place and was once again staring down at him like a princess holding audience with the peasantry.

‘You know, Hyrule,’ Time said slowly, ‘I had a conversation with Legend yesterday. Just like you suggested.’

Hyrule averted his gaze. ‘I know,’ he replied uselessly. ‘He mentioned you two spent some time together. I’m glad.’

It came out a little flat. Hopefully Time wouldn’t mind.

‘…He’s very proud of you,’ said Time. ‘That’s all I meant to say.’

Hyrule gritted his teeth, hand clenched on the balustrade. ‘I know that,’ he said forcibly. Did Time really have to rub it in like that? ‘He tells me that all the time. He’s always telling me how proud he is, and how good he thinks I am.’

‘Then why don’t you believe it?’

The words hung in the air for a moment. Simple, gentle words, delivered in a mild, unthreatening tone. And Hyrule truly must have been rotten inside – truly, desperately rotten – because he felt his temper stir to life.

He let go of the railing and stomped past Time, further up the stairs. ‘That’s none of your business,’ he retorted. ‘Drop it, already.’

Time evidently failed to catch the hint. ‘If it’s bothering you and it’s something I can help with, then yes, it’s my business.’

Just how hard was it to leave well enough alone?! ‘Why?’ snapped Hyrule. ‘Just because you’re the oldest? Am I supposed to care? In case you’ve forgotten, I’m not your successor. I’m not your anything. Above all: not your business.’

‘You are my business, Hyrule,’ Time said steadily, ‘whether you like it or not.’

With tears of frustration biting at the corners of his eyes, Hyrule whirled around and spat, ‘No, Time. I’m really not. If you ever actually wanted me to be your business, you had your chance. And guess what? You already fucked it up.’

Time froze. His expression twisted in a way that made Hyrule feel deeply, vindictively satisfied. ‘What?’

Hyrule let out a short and sour laugh. ‘Yeah. I guess that’s unfair, isn’t it? It wasn’t even you. But if the you from my era had ever spared a thought for the future, then I wouldn’t even be here, would I? Legend wouldn’t even be here. He’d be living a different life, maybe working as a blacksmith, maybe becoming a royal guard. Whatever he wanted. Whatever he would’ve done if he hadn’t needed to make things right.

‘Ganon wouldn’t be around, Wild wouldn’t have to die like that, and it wouldn’t –’ Hyrule’s voice cracked ‘– it wouldn’t be my damn fault that Wild had to die like that. It wouldn’t matter that I’m average. That I’m not special, that I’m just some silly traveller who got caught up in something way too big for him.

‘If the Hero of Time from my timeline did his job as well as you did yours, then even Legend wouldn’t have needed to be so special. He wouldn’t have needed to fight so hard, he wouldn’t have had to suffer so much. And he wouldn’t have to look at me now and feel like he failed, just because I’m too pathetic to keep up.

‘But he does. And even if he’s too good of a person to get angry about it? I’m not. I’m not kind and forgiving like he is. So there you go,’ Hyrule concluded wetly. ‘The fact that you’re still alive is proof: I’m none of your damn business. If you wanna play father figure with someone, go bother Twi with it instead. Leave me alone.’

Time remained silent for the entire rant, and several seconds after it. Hyrule couldn’t read the expression on his face at all.

‘Hyrule,’ Time said eventually. ‘Listen. I… the truth is –’

BOOM.

A sudden explosion rocked the circular chamber. Hyrule lost his footing, made a wild grab for the railing –

BANG.

– And missed.

As if that first sound had been a signal, an seismic tremor ran through their surroundings. With a final, violent creak, the entire staircase and the walls attached to it abruptly dropped, sending him hurtling over the edge.

‘HYRULE!’

Hyrule caught a brief glimpse of the Hero of Time as he screamed a warning and desperately stretched out his hand – far too slow and far too distant to be of any use.

The chamber jolted again and stilled, lodging firmly into its new position even as steel and stone debris continued to rain from the damaged walls. The cracked, uneven floor loomed closer.

Instinct took over. In the brief moments before impact, a thin sheet of imperfect protective magic surged across Hyrule’s body.

It flickered and faded as he slammed brutally into the floor, rolled a few times and went still.

The creaking and clattering of the battered and beleaguered architecture and the slow drip of water through the cracks that remained, along with every other sound that came with it, soon fell to silence.