Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn't the first time they've fought the Yiga, and Warriors doubted that it would be the last, given how bored Wild seemed to be around them or how he looked more exasperated at their appearance than anything else. It wasn't uncommon for them to be attacked at least once a day while they were in Wild's Hyrule, either by a singular fool or a small group that could still be easily be chased away. However, their newest encounter with the traitorous Sheikah was a bit different than most.

They were attacking alongside the horde of infected bokoblins and moblins. Regular bokoblins and moblins were annoying on their own, but when they were infected, it made the battle one of endurance, especially with a horde with numbers more akin to what would be found in Warrior's Hyrule, even though the bokoblins were Wild's. The last thing they needed were the five Yiga soldiers. Three of them had the big blades (Warriors knew they had a specific title but he didn't care to learn it) and two of them were archers. All five of them were teleporting around the field, looking for any of them that had their back turned for even half a second.

His decision was made. Warriors wasn't going to waste his time on the infected monsters unless they were in his way. He had bigger targets to take down.

The first one was luck. It was an archer who just happened to teleport near by to shoot at Legend, who was occupied with two moblins. Before they could release their arrows though, Warriors struck, stabbing his sword through their abdomen. He used his foot to help slide the body off the end of his blade. Usually, they would just teleport away if they found themselves injured, but this person had no chance to flee. Warriors didn't sit on it. He didn't have the time to think about the fact that he just killed a person, and the fact that it wasn't even his first time in that position. One Yiga soldier down, four more to go.

Muray Mullen wasn't well liked. Most people regarded him as rude and selfish. Link had a feeling that Muray was only in it for glory, and it wouldn't bother Link except that Muray went out of his way to disobey orders to execute his own plans, and those plans hardly got him the glory he sought. He didn't work well with others and it irritated many, including Link himself, who often had to bail him out of trouble, despite all the insults Muray would fling at him for trying to help.

Not once did Link ever receive a 'thank you'. He quickly learned not to expect one.

Link often found himself wondering why Muray wasn't dismissed. Somehow, he managed to always get off with a warning, or with laundry duty, but not once did dismissal ever seem to be on the table. It gave the rest of them a bad name.

Link couldn't say that he was exactly shocked that Muray would use the mutiny to attack him. In fact, he was pretty sure that Muray sought him out specifically, to get a chance at glory, even if it was a demon lord  that would give it to him. He shouted some insult that Warriors couldn't recall before they traded blows, their swords clashing together with a loud twang. Warriors jumped back and Muray took his chance to charge, swinging his sword as did so. Warriors dove to the ground, rolling to his feet. He pounced, stabbing Muray through his back.

The irony wasn't lost on him.

The second one took too long to deal with, and the few precious minutes he spent chasing them was nothing short of frustrating. The others were strong, and none of them were easy to take down, but in a battlefield, skill wasn't everything, and Warriors hated the idea of making any battle longer than it had to be. He cut down the bokoblin without much thought – he wasn't even sure if he was killing them, he just attacked to thin out the horde while he looked for his actual target. He was pretty sure the big blade guy was toying with him or was just trying to wear him out, giving Warriors a glance before teleporting away again, but Warriors found his chance when they spotted Wild.

Of course, Wild was their biggest target, given how he killed their leader or something (Wild claimed that their great and powerful leader died by accident more than anything) and they wanted him dead for just being the Hero long before that (again, according to Wild, though Warriors never doubted him). Warriors saw his opportunity when his target teleported behind Wild, their knees bent, sword held back for an incoming swing. He intercepted, sliding between Wild and the Yiga. Although he couldn't see their face, his sudden appearance was enough to throw off their stance. Warriors, without a moment's thought, went for the neck.

It wasn't enough to kill them, but it was enough to stun them. Warriors attacked again, landing a fatal blow the second time.

The Yiga fell to their knees, then collapsed to the ground, still bleeding from the neck and from the new hole in their gut. Warriors could barely tell the difference between the red of the uniform and their blood. Wild looked at him with wide eyes, but Warriors continued on his hunt. Two down, three more to go.

Kieran Smith was one of his sparring partners. He was the one who stuck out the most to Warriors, as he was the one he fought the most and Kieran was one of the ones that Warriors let himself get close to. They used to stay up late, trading blows and pushing each other to their limits, stopping only because their captains and generals told them to stop and hit the hay. Sometimes, when they had no choice but to take a break after long hours of practice, they shared snippets of their lives. Warriors found himself speaking about homesickness and about the family he rarely got to visit, while Kieran would tell him about why he joined the military, why he decided to just leave his former life behind.

Kieran was the first to attack him. Warrior felt the hurt and confusion the same time as the rest of his troops, or well, the people who stayed on his side as the people they trained with, ate with, and slept beside struck them. The hurt and confusion cost him a precious second against an opponent who knew him well, and Link let out a cry of pain as Kieran's spear grazed his leg. It was probably the exact reaction Kieran was hoping for. It was the opening he needed.

It was like a switch went off in Warriors' mind, from confused and hurt to calm and collected. He had to close the Gate of Souls, he had a war against a witch to win, he had people he had to defend, and Kieran wasn't going to stop him. His body was quick to retaliate, going straight for Kieran's throat and ending his life in seconds. They sparred together for at least a year, and in the end, Link killed him within seconds. Kieran didn't even get a chance to regret his actions.

Sometimes, Warriors regretted him killing so quickly. Two years after the war, and Warriors couldn't figure out why. Why would Kieran turn on him? Did all their time training mean nothing? Was it a farce the entire time?

Was anything about their relationship real?

Warriors found the other archer, and the fact that one of their arrows managed to hit Twilight only made the fire under his ass burn even hotter. He found the archers to be more annoying than the ones with the blades because they were harder to track down and pin point as they seemed to teleport away even more often than their blade-wielding counterparts. And why wouldn't they? They specialized in ranged combat.

This one surprised him, though. They teleported right in front of him as he was running and fired two arrows at the same at him, much like Wild could do. He vaguely wondered just where Wild learned that handy trick of his, but Wild didn't seem to have many memories regarding his training. Maybe they were aware of the fact that Warriors took down killed two of their clansmen already and wanted their revenge. Warriors didn't know and didn't care. It made it easier when he didn't have to chase them down. He managed to dodge one of the arrows by veering to the right, and the other hit his shoulder, bouncing off his armour with a quiet plink.

He ran through them with his sword before they had the chance to teleport away. He made sure they were dead, then continued to weave through the bokoblins and moblins. Three down, two more to go.

Gregory Sullivan was his bunk mate, back when he was just a trainee, and well, that was the only way he stood out to Link. He was a quiet man, with an unassuming appearance. While they were in the barracks, Gregory preferred to stay in his bunk, only mumbling half-hearted answers whenever Warriors tried to make some small talk with him just to pass the time. There wasn't even much Link could recall about him, other than the fact that he came from a small farming village, and that he kept up with everybody else without any fuss. Not once did he ever complain about the training.

But it was the quiet ones you have to be careful around.

Gregory tried to attack him from behind. Link side stepped the attack, and grabbed the spear, yanking it out of his opponent's hand. It felt completely foreign in his right hand but nonetheless, he decided to use it, spinning it his hand so that the spearhead faced the correct direction, and driving it inside his former bunk mate's stomach. He didn't spare him a second thought. He had to find the turncoat leaders and put a stop to their mutiny. He need to stop the demon lord, and if people were in the way, they had to be stopped too.

Sometimes, Warriors wondered if Gregory always held the resentment in his eyes.

Though both archers were killed, he didn't feel as though he could slow down, even though his legs were beginning to ache and he felt the ever familiar pain from a stitch at his side. He ignored the pain and continued, but he was suddenly forced to stop, jumping back to avoid a wide swing from one of the remaining Yiga soldiers. While having one right in front of him helped last time, this time, he wasn't as prepared. The archer required some distance. The ones with swords? Not as much. He felt the air move as the blade sliced into the air, right where he was standing just a moment prior.

He barely had time to land on his feet to find some semblance of a defensive stance.

The next swing collided with his sword, ringing loudly. His sword shook as the Yiga applied pressure and pushed, forcing all of their weight into his sword. Eventually, they broke apart as the Yiga's sword slid down his own and they both jumped back, seizing each other up. Warriors glared at the mask, and charged again.

He found himself engaged in deadly dance. The Yiga, surprisingly, stayed engaged with him. Warriors knew they could do a whole lot of things with magic – he saw them split the ground apart, and he knew the swords could somehow attack at a distance. Instead though, the Yiga participated in their deadly dance, where one misstep came at the cost of their life. For what reason, Warriors had no idea, but he was in too deep to back off.

The Yiga's foot slipped, their stance faulting ever so slightly. Warriors took his chance and ducked to the Yiga's side, his sword cutting them deeply as he pivoted on his feet. They spun on their heels quickly, almost like Warriors' attack had no effect, and they locked blades again.

“You still call yourself a hero after all of this?” they asked. The voice was higher pitched than Warriors expected for somebody with their big frame.

“I'm just a solider,” Warriors mumbled, as he managed another slash at their leg, on the same side of their body as he managed to hit earlier. Their leg slipped out from underneath them. Warriors held his blade above his head and brought it down.

Dan Hillman had been a captain for many years, long before Warriors ever stepped foot on the training grounds or in the barracks for the first time. He was one of the first captains that Link met, and all he ever knew was that the captain was a man who genuinely cared for his subordinates. He even took care to compliment and be attentive to people outside of his platoon. Anybody who crossed his path was greeted with a warm smile and a question about how their day was. Link could remember looking up to him, admiring his skills and his leadership, hoping that one day, he could inspire people in the way Captain Hillman did. Link never worked as a subordinate of him, but they did occasionally work side by side, captain to captain.

Captain Hillman was a turncoat leader. His face was full of anger that Link never saw before, and his ire was completely focused on Link when he spotted him. For a moment, it shook his entire world. Was the man before him that good at hiding his emotions, or was Link just that bad at reading people?

The former captain drew his blade and attacked Link on sight. Hillman's sword bounced off his shield, sending shock waves through Link' arm. Link ignored the moment of pain, dodging Hillman's follow up attack. Hillman wasn't the quickest soldier, relying mostly on brute strength and either killing or incapacitating his opponent with the first hit. He struggled against those who quick on their feet, and unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong captain to attack. It wasn't difficult at all for Link dodge his attack once more and before Hillman could recover from his missed attack, Link buried his sword deep within his flesh.

Captain Hillman, a man Link once looked up, collapsed to the ground.

"Do you think you can still call yourself a hero, Link?"

He was silent after that. Link saw no reason to respond to him anyway.

It was never about a title.

Before Warriors could even look for the last Yiga, a white, burning pain erupted from his back, burning even hotter when he felt something that shouldn't have been there twist and turn. It was utterly agony. Somebody swiped his feet out from underneath him, and his sword slipped out of his grip. He didn't have the energy or the strength to even reach for it. Existing hurt. He was no shape to defend himself.

He let them do the very thing he was trying to prevent them from doing to the others. They attacked him, while his back was turned. He was so busy trying to stop them from attacking his brothers that he left himself vulnerable. You idiot. Why did you leave yourself open? You know better. You were trained better.

Warriors spat blood out of his mouth.

The Yiga walked in front of him, then crouched down, pulling Warrior's head up by yanking on his hair. He stared into the mask, despite the mask being emotionless. He spat blood again, and though he got nowhere near the Yiga's face, he was satisfied with his effort nonetheless. The Yiga growled and slammed his face into the ground.

“Leave him alone!”

The pressure on his head disappeared suddenly, replaced by a gentle, firm hand on his shoulder. He turned his head, breathing in fresh air. His back stung as the hand on his shoulder moved to his back, pulling at his tunic.

“HYRULE! HYRULE! GET OVER HERE! HE NEEDS HELP!”

Was that Wind? Warriors couldn't tell anymore. His head was spinning too much, the world was too blurry, his head was pounding too much. He could see the darkness closing in from the edges of his vision before it took over.

Chapter Text

Link sat in the back of the of his parent's shop with a threaded needle in his hands, his eyebrows scrunched as he slowly stitched the tear in his favourite shirt back together. He wasn't quite skilled enough to work in the front of his shop like his parents and his older sister Jodi did, but he was good enough to sit in the back, patching up his family's clothing. He was expected to fix his own clothing and to fix all the tears or add colourful patches to his younger siblings', something that neither Jodi or his parents had time to do.

The bell at the front door rang. Link usually ignored the bell when his parents or Jodi were in the room, but when he heard the booming voice of his uncle, he was quick to put down his project and rushed to the door, careful to dodge all of the tables in the way as he did so.

Uncle Arnie was his mother's brother, and a captain in the army. He often arrived in uniform, and merely chuckled as Link asked what every bit of it did, or what it meant. Link could remember always looking up to his uncle. As his parents would say, he was completely mesmerized by him. He didn't know what it was about his uncle that always excited him and left Link staying up for too late at night to interrogate his uncle about stories about how he saved lives or the big, bad monsters he faced.

He was only ten, just a couple days shy of being eleven, but he couldn't wait until he was old enough to join the military himself. Link wanted to be the kind of person his uncle was. He wanted to save lives, to protect his small town, and to protect his parents and all of his siblings. Link didn't mind working in his parent's tailoring shop until then, they needed the help, but the military captured most of his imagination.

            “Stop! If you keep healing him, you're going to pass out too!”

Link couldn't help but to notice that his uncle was wearing his regular, civilian clothing instead of the uniform that he usually arrived in. He also noticed that he was trying, and failing, to hide something behind his back. His father was doing a bad job of hiding a smile, and he was suddenly very interested in the colour of the fabric he was holding.

“Ah! Link! How are you doing, kiddo?”

“Good!” he answered with a broad smile. “I'll be eleven soon! My birthday is next week!” Then it would only be seven years until he could enlist. The magical number 'eighteen' couldn't come soon enough.

            “But we don't have any potions or fairies! If it gets infected...”

“I've heard! In fact, I got a little gift for you. An early birthday present, since I'll probably won't be here next week,” he said, pulling out something wrapped in light blue cloth from behind his back. It was rectangular and hefty, and when he pulled away the cloth, he found a box. He popped open the lid and found a wooden sword. His heart raced. He was practically vibrating on the spot. Link looked up to his father, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Arnie already spoke to us. Your mom and I... we don't necessarily like the idea of you joining the military one day, but we want you to be prepared for when that day comes.”

“And I'll be here for a couple of days to teach you the basics! Then you can practice on your own until I'm able to come back. How about that?”

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Link put the sword down, leaning it against one of the work benches, and tightly hugged Arnie around the waist. When he was done with Arnie, he was sure to give his father a big hug too.

            “Then he'll need your expertise.”

Link couldn't wait to become the best swordsman he could be. He was one step closer to his dream.

The older Link got, the more estranged he became with his older sister, Jodi. His parents were... not exactly alright with his decision, but they did their best to support him despite their own anxieties. His younger siblings, two sisters and a brother, didn't seem too interested or too worried, and his parents seemed glad that they didn't have the same aspirations that he did. Jodi, on the other hand, was determined to change his mind. It didn't matter what reason Link gave, like how important it was to him that he could protect her or how it felt like it was something that he had to do, Jodi wasn't going to leave the matter alone without a fight.

When he turned seventeen, their arguments began to become more heated and their parents were at a loss of what to do. Sometimes, Link ended up storming out of the shop and wouldn't return until dark, only for Jodi to still be mad at him.

They were in the shop alone. Their parents closed up the shop halfway through their normal hours to go spend the rest of their day together, as it was their anniversary. Just because the shop was closed though, didn't mean that there wasn't work to do. Jodi was creating a piece to sell from scratch, while Link was working on a piece his father started, slowly replacing the pins holding the fabric together with stitches.

“'Hero' is just a stupid title anyway. You're just going to get yourself killed for something that ultimately means nothing,” Jodi mumbled as she cut away at a blue piece of fabric that was longer than the desk she was working at. It draped over every side of the table even as she cut through it. Link frowned.

“I don't care about a title or any of that! And saving people will always mean something. That's worth the trouble and all of the risks.”

            “Guys! It's a portal!”

            “Now?”

“Is it? What if you don't come back? What if you have to kill people? You saw what happened to Uncle Arnie! How can you still be okay with following in his footsteps?” Jodi was raising her voice. It was a good thing they were the only ones in the shop. Their siblings were at home, above the shop, but they were unlikely to hear them.

Uncle Arnie. He was honourably discharged after losing a leg in a battle that killed many of troops. His physical wounds healed long ago, but the wounds on his heart and mind didn't heal so quickly. Uncle Arnie was still Uncle Arnie for the most part. He was still the man who trained him how to use a sword and had a laugh that the whole town could hear, but he was also a man who still grieving for the troops he couldn't save. His uncle was still haunted by a battle that took place two years ago. He was happy and cheery during the day, but quiet and brooding at night and he barely slept.

Link asked him, on one of his many visits since that particular battle, if he ever regretted being involved in the military. For a moment, it did shake Link's world. Ever since he got that wooden sword for his eleventh birthday, he never considered any other career, and seeing what happened to his uncle made him realize that there were risks. He knew people could get hurt, but it didn't hit him until his uncle was discharged. He could get hurt. He might have to kill people to save others. He will have to watch people die. His uncle laughed fondly, and his answer was simple.

He said he could never regret trying to help people. Link had a feeling there was more to that, but that was all his uncle was willing to say, and it seemed like his uncle meant it too.

“I know what the risks are, Jodi. It hasn't changed my mind, though.”

Jodi put the scissors down. “How? How doesn't that affect you?” she asked quietly, before turning to face Link. “Don't you realize we care about you? If something happened to you? If you didn't come back because you just had to be a stupid hero... I... I... don't know what I would do. What are we supposed to do if you died? How are we supposed to explain it the younger ones?” Her voice cracked, and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. “You're such an idiot!”

            “Yeah, just outside! See? Maybe this our chance to get Warriors some medical attention!”

            “Or it could lead us straight into another battle. That would be our luck.”

            “I'm not sure we have a choice.”

“I know,” he whispered. “Jodi, I... I'm not going to die on the battlefield. I will come back. I promise.”

“You can't keep that promise and you know it!”

“Won't stop me from trying! Look, Jodi, I appreciate the concern, but you can't change my mind. You can't understand how badly I want – need – this.” He doubted he could even properly explain it. He didn't just want to chalk it all up to some sort of destiny, because that was one of those things that sounded better in his head than out loud.

Jodi glared at him as the tears rolled down her cheeks. She huffed, and marched out of the shop without another word.

Link came back from the battle shaken, probably just as shaken as everybody else who survived and came through to the end with him instead of against him. He could see it in their stance and the way they nearly dragged their weapons on the ground because they barely had any strength left. He could see it in the wary glances they gave others, wondering about their intentions. The battle sapped them both of their physical and mental stamina and eroded the moral that Link strove to keep up into the dirt. Even Proxi, who was usually chipper and chatty, was quiet, sitting atop of his shoulder.

Even back at camp, the battle didn't feel like it was over. The battle was over. He killed the traitors, defeated the demon lord, and closed the gate. All they had to do was hold on until they could regroup with the others.

It was over, he repeated to himself. It just didn't feel like it was over, even when he was in a bedroll, staring up at darkness as he tried to calm his mind and let his tired body rest. Link frowned, and ultimately decided that sleep wasn't coming that night. He grabbed his sword and left his tent, ducking into the nearby forest for peace. Not even Proxi followed him.

Ever since he was a teen, he would take his wooden sword whenever he couldn't sleep and train in the backyard, returning to his room when he was finally tired. Even if it failed him on a night that shook his world to the core, at least he could get in some much needed training. Maybe if he was stronger, faster – better – he could have ended the war before it got to that point. He could have saved many more lives, not just the lives of the traitors, but the lives of the people they managed to kill before he ended the mutiny.

He was a failure as a hero, not that he ever enjoyed or wanted the title that was tossed upon his shoulders. He didn't save lives like he dreamed of doing as a child. He took them with his own hands. Even if he didn't stab somebody with a sword, he still led them to their deaths everyday, either because he was a couple of seconds too late or because they died protecting the hero.

            “His wound is infected. Link, get some water from the spring. Luda, bring the clean bandages.”

A hero didn't take lives, especially as ruthlessly as he did. He treated the turncoats like they were mere bokoblins and not the people who he used to save, used to train with, used to sleep beside, and used to respect. Link didn't just strike them down but made an example of them too, showing everybody who survived that the end of his sword was a bad place to be. He wasn't proud of it when he thought back to it, but it was what he had to do. Regaining order had a steep price, and as a captain, it was his job to get his troops under control. He needed unity if he was going to tackle Ghirahim and the gate.

He wasn't a hero, even though everybody else called him one, even the goddess themselves if the mark on his hand was anything to go by. Link felt like somebody who was permanently stained with the blood of so many weren't worthy of such an honourable title, even if all the blood he spilled saved the lives of thousands more. A real hero could have ended the war by now. A real hero wouldn't have lost the respect of their troops. A real hero was... somebody better than he was.

At the end of the day, Link was just a soldier who had more responsibilities than most. He was a knight who took an oath to protect the people of Hyrule, and nothing more. It never had to be more. Link was just proud to be a knight. Why did that have to change?

All Link wanted to do was to save lives. He wanted to protect and help people. He just wanted to make sure his loved ones were safe and had a peaceful world to grow up in. He didn't want be a hero, let alone The Hero. He didn't care about the glory or about making it into the history books. He didn't care if people recognized him on the streets or if they showered him with gifts or prizes. He just wanted to help people.

            “Is he going to be alright?”

          “The infection is bad, but I think he'll pull through. I think we got him help just in time.”

            “... If you say so.”

How did it turn out like it did? What did he do wrong to make people he liked betray him like that? Did they always show signs of discontentment and he was too busy to realize how they were feeling? What happened? What did he do wrong?

Link swung his sword, killing enemies that only existed in his mind over and over and over again until his body couldn't handle it anymore, and he collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

The Master Sword felt like the answer to many of his problems. With all the years he spent training combined with the divine might of the Master Sword, he felt like he was a one-man army. He was practically invincible. Nothing came close to touching him, or most of all, his troops.

Link would win the war on his own if it meant nobody else had to risk their lives, and he probably could, so long as he had the sword that could seal away the darkness in his hand. If the title of a hero gave him the Master Sword, then he would finally accept it.

He would use the title and the Master Sword to save everybody.

And then it was like Cia took a needle to a bubble, and his entire world burst.

Link's heart fell when he locked swords with his shadow, red glowing eyes filled with pride and arrogance staring him down. His desire to save and protect people became warped and twisted, good intentions that went haywire and became something to be feared instead. He took down the shadow, and panicked when he saw more take its place, running off in the direction of his allies. His problem, his struggles that came with the title he was given, wasn't their problem and nobody deserved to be hurt because of it. If those shadows killed hurt anybody, it was all his fault.

But when he saw that everybody was willing to still protect him at the end, that they were worried about a friend and not just the hero, made him feel lighter than he had for a long time.

            “Don't you dare die on us, Warriors... not when you guys made me get all attached and everything. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but you better not tell anyone I said that, got it?”

Link still grappled with the title and whether or not he deserved it, but at least he wasn't alone. It was because of them that he survived long enough to learn that he wasn't alone, that he could lean on others sometimes, that he didn't have to shoulder all the responsibilities and mistakes that came with war, and that he had to keep a more level head. Just maybe he was a little cocky and reckless. They're were lucky that his cockiness didn't hurt anyone else before the Shadow Links appeared.

His thoughts were still a confusing maze. If nothing else, Link hated the title even more. He accepted it and he let go to his head, but he couldn't just throw it away either. It was his title that gave others hope, and it was still a responsibility that he couldn't just turn his back on.

And thankfully, he wasn't alone.

“Some hero I am,” Link mumbled, staring up at the ceiling of his tent. Staring at the ceiling was about all he had the energy to do since he used what little he had arguing with Impa. Even if he had more energy, there was a child sitting beside his temporary cot who was very determined to make sure Link was resting like Zelda and Impa were forcing him to. He knew what Young Link, or Mask as many called him, could do on the battlefield and he knew that arguing with him was a bad idea. He didn't know who put so much strength into that tiny body of his, but whoever it was, Link feared them.

“What makes you say that?” Mask asked, his very bright blue eyes staring at him. “It looked like you were starting to...” he looked up as struggled to find the words, “not mind so much when somebody called you a hero.”

“I... lost!” Link tried to get up, but his very painful and very angry wounds made it difficult to do so. Ganondorf beat him into the ground and then some. Three times. In the end, he just settled deeper into his cot, folding his arms on top of his chest to rest since he could do little else. “I let Zelda get hurt. I let Ganondorf get the full Triforce. If I couldn't beat him when he only had the Triforce of Power, how am I supposed to beat him when he has the full Triforce now? Everybody is in danger and I can't even get of bed!”

He didn't dare to think about what Ganondorf could do with the power he held and it could take days, weeks even, before he was in any sort of condition to fight Ganondorf. Lives could be lost in seconds. What could Gaondorf do with a day? A week? Was there even go to be a Hyrule to save after that? Link made a lot of costly mistakes over the war, but losing a battle that determined who would get the Triforce was a mistake he couldn't afford to make.

And yet, there he was, laying in a cot and too weak to get out of it.

Mask frowned. “Just because he has the Triforce doesn't mean he can't be defeated. He won that battle, yes, but you're still alive and that was a big mistake on his part. As long as you're alive, you have a chance to win, and you have to take it. Hyrule's only doomed when you give up for good.”

            “Wars... please... just wake up.”

Link didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say. Mask was the kid who dumped beetles in somebody's bedroll because he was mad at them, but he could also manage an air of somebody who was much older and wiser. He didn't know any other kid who could say the words that came out his mouth and even after spending some time with Mask, helping him navigate a world that was not his own, it still surprised him when Mask spoke like that. Link found himself staring at the ceiling again, letting his words sinking in.

“Nobody's mad, you know,” Mask said after a while of complete silence. Not even the insects made a peep until Mask spoke again. It was eerie.

“... huh?”

“Nobody's mad that you lost, because it wasn't just on you. There was a lot of us on the battlefield, not just you. Don't take the whole blame when everybody failed and right now, everybody's just worried about you. I'm not going to let you be the only one mad at you,” Mask said with a huff, crossing his short arms in front of his small chest. He was pouting, and even though he tried to look a little threatening, Link couldn't help but to chuckle a little, despite his bruised, or maybe even broken, ribs. It was the same kind of look he often got from his younger siblings whenever he said 'no' to them. “What?”

“You... you're adorable.” He had no idea why it was so funny to him, just that it was. It was the kind of laugh he needed a while ago.

“Am not!”

Link wheezed as Mask puffed his chest out a bit, trying his hardest to look like the older, wiser man that he sounded like sometimes. “You know you are! You totally use it to your advantage. I've seen you!”

“Nuh-huh!”

“You sound exactly like my younger siblings.”

            “Please... just wake up.”

“Just... go to sleep!”

Chapter Text

Sickness was a battle that Warriors didn't have much experience fighting. As a child, when fevers would run rampant through the other children in town, Warriors and his siblings would just get runny eyes and stuffy noses. Even his little brother, who always ended up the worst off in terms of illness, managed to keep a normal temperature. They were still miserable, but they could get out of bed, tough it out for a bit, and still cause some trouble for the rest of the family.

So when he regained some awareness, like breaking the water's surface after trying for too long to figure out which way was up, he knew something was horribly wrong. He never felt so awful before. He was used to the sharp pain and aches from waking up after a tough battle, but he wasn't used to the headache, or the dizziness, or the heat that ran through his body like fire in a field of dry grass. His limbs were heavy, his entire body hurt, and while he was awake and somewhat aware about what was going on around him, he didn't have the energy to even open his eyes.

Not even Ganondorf managed to make him feel so awful.

“What's with the frown, sailor?” Legend asked. There was a creak behind him, quickly followed by Legend's soft footsteps. Perhaps he just walked into the room, but since Warriors could only go by sound, he wasn't quite sure if that was correct.

“I just wish that bastard got a taste of what they deserved. They almost killed Wars and I just... let them get away with it.”

Legend sighed. “You know Warriors wouldn't care about that. He's the type of dork that would worry more about you even though he's the one that had a giant hole in his back.”

Wind let out a long sigh. “I guess it would have just made me feel better. Is that a bad thing?”

“You should be asking Time or Sky, not me.” Legend took a deep breath through his nose, and he hesitated for a moment. “I don't think it would have made you feel better though. Whether you killed that Yiga or not, they still stabbed him before any of us could get to him. He would still be like this. You just want to feel like you're helping because it fucking sucks that we can't do anything but wait around for him to wake up, right?”

Wind huffed. “When did you get all wise?”

“I have my moments,” Legend said, though it didn't sound as confident or cocky as Warriors thought it would.

“Renado said that talking to him might help him. Do you think that's true?”

“Help us, maybe. I doubt Warriors can hear anything in that condition. It's like talking to a wall, not that it's his fault, but you know. Same effect.”

Warriors tried again to crack just one eye open, since he was aware that he was laying on his stomach and his face was half buried in the pillow. He couldn't just let Wind feel like didn't do enough, but most of all, he wanted to show Legend that he could in fact hear him, thank you very much. Opening his eye was a chore and keeping it open long enough to identify Legend's red tunic was even harder. The quiet gasp from Legend's lips was all he needed to hear for the effort to be worth it though.

“What was that... about not being able... to hear you?” Warriors tried to smirk, but he quickly realized that speaking at all was a mistake. His head swam, and a wave of nausea smashed into him and pulled him under. He squeezed his eye shut, curling his head into the pillow as his fingers tightened around his sheets, trying to steady himself. He barely moved and yet, it felt like he was on a rocking boat.

“Wars!” Wind cried out, placing cold hands on Warriors' too warm shoulders, the only bit of exposed skin. It was the first time he realized that he wasn't wearing a shirt but at least he had a blanket.

“Just focus on breathing,” Legend said slowly. “Wind, you stay. I'm going to go get Renado.”

“Don't worry, Warriors, everything is going to be okay.”

He knew Wind was right. He woke up, he could feel pain, and he could remember most of what happened before he hit the ground during the battle. However, 'okay' felt too far away when his head hurt so badly. The pillow and Wind's hands were the only things that made him feel somewhat grounded, that no matter how fast the world was spinning, he was still in the same spot. Even Wind's quick paced words were comforting, even though Warriors couldn't keep up with everything he was trying to say.

He wasn't sure how long it took for Legend to come back with another pair of footsteps. The blanket covering him was peeled back to settle on his hips, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Hello, Warriors. My name is Renado. I'm a healer, and you've been under my care for four days now.” His voice was commanding and firm, though Warriors found it calming. Renado's tone reminded him of his uncle, back when Uncle Arnie was a captain and trained Warriors like any other soldier despite the fact that at the time, he was only eleven. He was still caring and supportive, but he also commanded respect and Warriors tended to respond fairly well to that. “You probably already realized this, but you have a terrible wound and a terrible infection from it. We can't fully heal the wound until the infection clears. If you're anything like the Link I know, it'll be hard for you sit still for long periods of time, but you're going to have to take it easy and let yourself heal.”

Warriors groaned in response.

“Good. I'll be back in a moment with some medicine. It'll help bring fever down at least, though it may cause some drowsiness. I will say though, it's good to see you awake. I doubt you feel well now, but you are getting better. This is a good sign.”

With that, Renado was gone.

“I hope you know that we're going to make sure you take it easy,” Legend muttered. Warriors could practically hear the smirk.

“Don't doubt it,” Warriors mumbled into his pillow. Wind laughed a little, but he kept his hands were they were until Renado returned. Without any words, Legend and Wind hoisted him into a sitting position. He could barely keep his own weight up, so they had to hold his arms and keep an arm around his waist to keep him in position. Renado had to tip his head back, and hold the cup for him as he drank whatever tea Renado had in there. Warriors didn't recognize the taste, but if he had enough energy, he probably would have spat it out.

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Warriors lost the rest of the day to sleep, and most of the next two days as well. He was woken up for more tea whenever somebody noticed his temperature was creeping back up or for a light meal that he could barely keep down. If he managed to do anything else but sleep for all those days, he could not remember it. All the days blurred together and he couldn't distinguish any of them apart.

When he woke up on the fourth day, the sun was already up. Normally, losing so much time would leave him bothered, but in his current condition, he couldn't have spent the time awake doing anything worthwhile. He didn't have any energy to even care that he spent three days practically asleep.

It was Renado who came to see him first. It was the first time that Warriors really got a good look at him ever since he arrived, as Renado was either just out of sight or the tea was wearing off and his fever just made it too hard for Warriors to properly focus on him. He knew Renado by his voice and his general presence, not because he recognized the man's appearance from the last couple of times he was in the room with the tea or a light meal.

His appearance suited his presence, Warriors decided. His robes were mostly brown and white, with the only pop of colour being some sort blue layer under the outermost layer. His outfit was quiet but Warrior's gaze was still caught up in the patterns on the outer most layer, pondering their significance. Renado's eyes were brown and gentle, regarding him like an equal and thankfully, not with the pity he would have gotten from the healers in his own Hyrule. A smile tugged at his lips, but otherwise, he kept his face relatively neutral as he brought Warriors a glass of water.

“Good morning,” Renado greeted as he handed Warriors the glass. “I thought you would be asleep for a while yet. Are you feeling up for an examination?”

Warriors nodded as he eagerly downed the water, stopping only when it was empty for breath. Renado checked his temperature first with the back of his hand to his forehead, then had Warriors turn around in his spot once the glass was safely sitting on the nightstand. Warriors used a pillow to settle his arms on the headboard as Renado did whatever he had to do. From what he could tell, Renado was mostly just prodding his back, touching the area surrounding the wound but not the wound itself. Peeling the soiled bandages off hurt more than the actual examination, as the bandages were stuck to the wound, but it wasn't anything that he couldn't handle.

Warriors walked and fought with worse. It gave him hope that soon he could get out of bed, socialize, and get back into shape. He had a lot to catch up on after being out of commission for so long.

“The good news is that your wound is looking better and your temperature is down. You should be able to take a potion soon without fear of sealing the infection in,” Renado said as he applied something cold onto his back and over the wound. It made his back arch at first but once Warriors got used to the chill, he did find it pleasant against his still too-warm skin. It was followed quickly by new bandages. “If you do feel better though, it would be good for you to get out of bed and walk around for a bit, as long as you don't overexert yourself. How about we go to the window for some fresh air?”

“Be sure to tell the others or they'll never let me out of bed,” Warriors answered as he swung his legs over to the side and pushed himself out of bed. He wobbled, his legs immediately buckling under his own weight, and if it wasn't for Renado's quick reflexes, he would have ended up on the floor. The initial excitement he had regarding his progress quickly withered away into a familiar frustration, reminding him all too much of how long it took him to get back into shape as Hyrule was falling apart around him.

He hated feeling so helpless. He hated feeling like a burden. He hated feeling like he was letting people down because he couldn't stand on his feet. All of Hyrule depended on him and -

“Careful, it's been nearly a week since you were last on your feet. Take a deep breath and take it slow. You can do it.”

Warriors closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. It was advice and assurance that he heard before, back when he was in backyard with a wooden sword and an uncle who meant the world to him. If he kept his eyes closed, it was like it was Uncle Arnie who was holding him up instead. It was certainly a happier time. Back then, his only worry was being fussed over by his worrywart of a sister.

He cracked his eyes open.

The window was a short distance away from the bed. If his legs weren't shaking so violently, he could make it there in just a few steps, but suddenly it felt like it was on the other side of Hyrule itself.

“Just start with a single step.”

Warriors took another deep breath and put one foot in front of the other. The action made him wobble and his legs threatened to collapse again, but with Renado's help, he was still upright. He took another step.

He was being ridiculous, he realized. It wasn't like him to just sit there and feel sorry for himself. He didn't get to where he was by giving up or sulking when things got inconvenient or difficult, and he wasn't the kind of person to be ungrateful for the help he was getting either. Renado didn't have to literally hold him up, but he did anyway. The least Warriors could do was try to get the damn window.

“That's it,” Renado said quietly as Warriors found his gait again. It was slow, much wider than usual, and wobbly as all hell, but he was walking for the first time in a week. It didn't even take that long to reach the window and open it for himself, seeing for the first time just where he actually was. He leaned almost all of his weight against the windowsill and soaked in the sight.

Twilight's Kakariko wasn't built on a green, open field like the other Kakariko villages Warriors had the pleasure of visiting. It was definitely still beautiful in its own way, with a spring that literally sparkled and its teal colour complimented the reddish dirt that was found all over Kakariko. It was built under a mountain and all of the rocky cliffs that came with it. It had one main street from what he could see, lined with some buildings that looked relatively new standing alongside buildings that looked like they could collapse in on themselves at any moment.

It was also emptier than he excepted, with just a few of the Links out and just a couple of villagers talking to them, but he had a feeling that the condition of some of the houses had something to do with that.

“Has it... always been this way?”

“No. Kakariko has seen better days, but it has seen darker days too, and those days are behind us. We are still rebuilding, and some of the residents have come back, but it will take some years yet.”

Warriors wracked his brain, trying to remember if Twilight ever said something about the Kakariko in his Hyrule, but he came up empty. Twilight spent more time talking about Ordon, and he had good reason to. It was his home, after all. The most Twilight said about Kakariko was that he did indeed have a Kakariko.

“What happened?”

“Link didn't say?” Renado asked quietly before he quickly moved on. “We were attacked by monsters, monsters not like anything in this world. I don't think I could have conjured them from my worst nightmares. They killed the villagers that couldn't flee, and in our darkest moments, it was just me, my daughter, the children from Ordon, and Barnes. It was just us, huddled in this sanctuary as the monsters roamed just outside, and when it seemed like the end may have been upon us... they suddenly vanished. We found Link just outside our door. He never said it, but we knew he saved us. In comparison to that, Kakariko is doing fine.”

“He never said anything about that,” Warriors whispered to himself. He could see why Twilight wouldn't, it wasn't like Warriors was so forthcoming about his experiences either. It was an unspoken rule after all, a rule that was only ever broken if it was something that made their journey more difficult for everybody else. Even then, the secrets were stretched as far as they could be stretched before they snapped and recoiled. “And yet, time moves on, doesn't it?”

“It does. We don't forget what happened – we can't forget – but time does march on and if we don't at least try to keep up with it, it will move on without us,” Renado said, putting a hand on Warriors' shoulder as Warriors kept his eyes glued to the twinkling water.

Warriors opened his mouth to say something, but the words fell out of his head and he came up with nothing. Renado's words hit him harder than he expected. It was so obvious but still out of reach.

“We will never forget the people we lost. I pray every night that they found peace. Sometimes we wonder if we could have done more, but we can't afford to lose ourselves to those thoughts when the present still demands our attention.”

“Why-”

“It just looked like you needed to hear it,” Renado said quietly. “Shall we head back to bed? Try to sleep for a bit. I'll let Link and the others know to let you walk around a bit.”

Warriors nodded. A nap sounded good.

Time was there when he woke up from his nap, sitting in a chair beside the bed with a book in his hands. The sun still hung high in the air, so his nap was only a couple of hours at best. He turned in his bed to face Time, putting an arm under his pillow for more comfort. For a second, he didn't say anything. He just wanted to see how long it would take for Time to notice that he was awake.

“Did you enjoy watching me sleep?” he said after a while of watching Time read. To Time's credit and to Warriors' disappointment, Time didn't seem at all surprised. He just calmly turned his head and set the book down on the lap, using his thumb to keep his spot.

“At least you slept this time. Last time I saw you in bed like this, you just complained all day and then you laughed at me,” he mumbled, looking down at his book. “I'm just glad you're giving yourself a chance to actually rest this time.”

“But did you see yourself?”

Time was about to pick up his book again but opted to pinch the bridge of his nose instead and let out a long sigh. “Regardless... just keep taking it easy. It was a tough battle and if you push yourself too far, you aren't going to heal. You have the opportunity now. You aren't alone and the rest of us are looking after the village.”

Right. He had to keep telling himself that Ganondorf currently wasn't a threat and that his current situation wasn't quite the same as the situation with Ganondorf. Whatever it was that they were chasing was a threat certainly, but it probably didn't have the Triforce. As far as Warriors knew, it didn't have the power to level the entire country at any moment. The threat was creeping but it wasn't looming. He had eight other people he could trust, so he could rest easy for just a bit if his mind would let him.

“I'm aware. I'm allowed to walk around a bit but I can't even do that on my own right now. You don't have to worry right now.”

“But I do. I don't doubt that battle took more than a physical toll.”

Warriors instantly knew what he meant. Time, or Mask as he was called at the time, wasn't there at the battle at the Sealed Grounds and Warriors was thankful for that, but that didn't stop Mask from finding out about it. Everybody knew what happened within a matter of days. Words had a habit of spreading like wildfire and Warriors didn't even try to put it out.

“I'll... be fine. I'm not fine now, but I just need a little bit of time,” he mumbled, knowing that honesty was probably the best course of action, at least in front of Time. He knew what Warriors went through, so there was little point in hiding his feelings from him. “There are a lot of unpleasant memories right now, but I'll be fine.”

“If you need to talk, I'm here.”

“It's... just that I'm reminded of the traitors I had to kill and I still don't even quite know why we were betrayed in the first place. It's hard being called a hero when I've killed so many.”

“I also don't like being called a hero, but for completely different reasons,” Time mumbled, book long forgotten. “I can't tell you how you should feel about being called a hero. It's up to you to define yourself. If you want my opinion though... I personally think you do a great job taking care of those around you. I see it time and time again and I know the soldiers who stuck with you the entire time do too. You don't have call yourself a hero, but don't change what you do.”

“Really?” Warriors asked. “They aren't just terrified of me?” It wasn't just the turncoats he had to kill, the many many many turncoats, but it was also the darkness that Cia pulled from his heart too, how his own pride in his abilities to protect others endangered them instead. He wasn't the only one who had to look into the abyss and dodge when it tried to attack back. His allies and his soldiers were made to protect themselves too. Warriors supposed that many did seem to be able to look past the fact that Cia had so much to use, or that he could kill a person within seconds, but how they could still think of him as a hero was beyond him.

“Perhaps a little. Many people were reminded that they don't want to be on the wrong side of your blade that day,” Time said with a small smirk. “But they were also so grateful, Captain. They didn't just tell everybody what happened, they told everybody how they felt, and nobody said anything bad about you.”

“I... I didn't know how badly I needed to hear that,” Warriors mumbled as he rubbed at his eye. Wow, when did he start getting tired again? He just got up.

“It looks like you woke up too soon. Go to sleep, Captain. Somebody will be around when you wake up again.”

He put his head down on the pillow. Almost instantly, he drifted off.

After a week spent mostly in bed, only getting up for short walks around the sanctuary, he could finally see light at the end of the tunnel. Wild even made a cake.

It was the day that his fever finally broke and Renado declared that there was no sign of infection anymore. He was never so happy to take a disgusting potion.

He nearly forgot what it was like to move without any pain or without instantly getting exhausted and ending up on the floor or supported by one of the other Links. Warriors knew he couldn't go overboard just yet but for once, he wasn't too worried about getting back into shape just yet. He was actually looking forward to a bath, he was in desperate need of one to clean his body and ease his mind, and he heard there were hot springs in the area.

Once the cake was devoured and Warriors soaked himself in the company of the others for a bit, listening to conversations but declining to join them, Twilight took him to the hot springs. It was conveniently located by the inn, and actually required going through the inn and up the stairs located outside to access it. At first, he thought that the inn was underneath the hot spring and carried the potential of one day destroying the inn. However, it seemed to be a little way back into the mountain, and the inn was actually just in front of the cliff that the hot spring rested on. Twilight carried everything on their trip through the inn, not that there was much to carry, but Twilight insisted on it so Warriors didn't argue.

It was Twilight's Hyrule. Maybe he just wanted to be a good host.

“Here we are! This is the only one in the village, the other springs are up on Death Mountain.”

“Oh don't worry, this is more than enough. As long as it's hot and goes past my knees, I'm good,” Warriors answered as he threw his borrowed shirt to the ground and began to wiggling out of his trousers. Once he was down to just his undergarments, he slipped inside the spring and settled in.

Sitting down, the water only came up to his pecs. He preferred deeper, at least up to his shoulders if he had the option, but it was way better than nothing and he wasn't in any condition to complain. After just a few seconds of soaking in the water, he already felt completely relaxed, more relaxed than he was even before they ever fought that battle.

“You coming in?”

“Of course. Why do you think I volunteered?” Twilight smirked as he wrestled out of his own layers, and joined Warriors just a moment later. “You would think you would be tired of being warm after battling a fever for a week.”

“To be fair, I spent most of that time asleep,” he answered with a deep, contented sigh. “And even if I did feel it for a week, this is completely different. I like being warm by choice. I will never say no to a warm bath. This is exactly what I needed after a tough battle.”

Twilight's smirk fell off his face. “I haven't said it before, but I just wanted to say... Thanks. If it wasn't for you, I feel like that battle would have gone way worse. We're lucky we got out of that fight without more injuries.” He ran a wet hand through his hair, his eyes flickering between Warriors and the steamy water. “And we're lucky we didn't lose you. Legend is still trying to get the blood out of your scarf and tunic.”

“I just did what I had to do,” Warriors mumbled as he reached out for the bag he kept his cleaning supplies in. He dipped his head underwater to wet his hair, and reached for the bottle he kept his hair products in. He spread a generous amount into his hands and ran his hands through his hair, lathering the cleanser into his hair. “I could tell that the Yiga would be trouble, so I took them out first.”

“You make it sound like it was easy.”

“Physically, people aren't that hard to kill. I'm trained to take lives and I have put that training to use even before meeting you. I don't even have to really think about it. It's just the emotional toll that's hard to deal with after the battle.”

He felt like he swallowed a rock. He thought that maybe after his conversation with Time, he would feel better but perhaps it was naive to think that one conversation and some time to sit on that conversation could make his problems vanish. It was good to hear from Time but the memories still swirled in his head.

Twilight's eyes shifted again. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make this trip so...”

“Macabre? No, it's fine.”

Warriors dipped his head underwater again, shaking the cleanser out of his hair before reemerging, watching it dissolve in the water as he did so. It was a strange feeling to talk about death while he was washing himself but it would be stranger to just drop it and leave the heavy topic hanging. He just happened to really need a bath and he really didn't want to think about the feelings were bubbling under the surface. He came to relax.

“Really. Sometimes, you just need to say what's on your mind.” The words left his mouth and yet, they didn't entirely apply to him. His feelings were burning under his skin as the memories came back with a vengeance. He felt like he needed to scream and tell everybody that he wasn't quite the hero they thought he was. So many people died on his watch and too many were by his own hands. Ultimately, he kept his face cool, vowing to pay attention to those feelings later when nobody was around to witness it. Twilight looked distressed as it was and Warriors wasn't going to contribute to that.

“You've said you put that training to use... When? Before all of this, I mean.”

Warriors took a deep breath. One thing at a time.

“In the middle of my adventure. We were in the middle of a battle when some soldiers suddenly just turned on us. I had no choice but to kill them to defend myself and protect the ones who didn't turn traitor. They were shocked. Who could blame them? We had a nice dinner with them all the night before and they were plotting against us the entire time. I had to kill all the ringleaders to stop the mutiny, and many more soldiers on top of that just to get to them. It was a mutiny on top of an army full of monsters led by a demon that was already there.”

“I'm so sorry, Wars.”

He wasn't used to Twilight looking so down. Twilight wasn't always all smiles, he was too busy trying to find a glare that could make Wild take him more seriously and fussing about the others to smile all the time, but the kicked puppy look didn't really suite him either.

“Twi, you didn't cause the mutiny. You didn't stab me in the back. There's nothing to apologize for. Even though that mutiny happened, I still trust you all with my life. I know everybody here has my back and I never doubted that for a second,” Warriors said, reaching back into his bag for his body wash and scrubber. He shoved all the doubts away for the time, and offered Twilight an easy but genuine smile. “Clearly, I was right to do so.”

Despite being betrayed in the past and being well aware of his status as a walking target for all those who were upset with the crown in his own Hyrule, he couldn't help but to trust the other Links. Maybe it was because they had the Hero's Spirit that he found it so easy to trust them all. Deep, deep down, they were the same person. Sure, they didn't get along all the time, but he knew (more than ever) that when push came to shove, they had his back like he had theirs. He would return the favour one day, but he could start with trying to cheer Twilight up.

“Here. Catch.”

He quickly pulled his hair cleanser from the edge of the hot spring where he left and tossed it in Twilight's direction. Twilight's eyes went wide as he fumbled for it, the jar jumping out of his wet hands and falling into the water.

“What was that for?” he shouted before he dove into the water to retrieve the bottle Warriors tossed.

“You should use this opportunity to use the best cleaning products around. My treat! I don't share often since I can only get this stuff in my Hyrule, so enjoy it while you can.”

Twilight must have been practicing his glare a lot while he was sick in bed because that one had a touch of Time in it. “Wow, thank you,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“That's a good one. Wild might just listen to you the next time you tell him not jump off the cliff if you use that face.”

Twilight threw his hands up and sighed.

But he opened the bottle and that was a win in Warrior's book.

The next day, he explored Kakariko alone, careful to keep his current condition in mind. He felt a lot better after eating dinner the night before and a hearty breakfast earlier that morning, but he knew he may still have to turn back earlier than he liked.

Just like he saw earlier, the town was a patchwork of buildings in varying conditions. The inn with the hot spring looked like it was restored recently, with fresh paint and sturdy looking walls. It was welcoming, just as an inn should be. The shop next to it looked a little tacky in his opinion, decorated with colourful garlands that didn't seem to belong whatsoever, but it was obviously cared for.

He spotted a bomb shop that was a little dented and rusty, but it didn't seem like it would collapse on him and that was more than he could say about the buildings were probably houses at one point.

Warriors winced and he was quick to move on.

Beside Renado's sanctuary was a path the led deeper into the mountains. He almost turned back once he found out what was on the other side of that path, but he pressed on.

The graveyard was small and enclosed by the mountainous walls that surrounded Kakariko. The graves at the front were well cared for, though the ones towards the back were dilapidated and the headstones threatened to fall over. There was a breeze that blew his hair out of his face that somehow managed to be chilly and warm at the same time. He didn't notice the darkening clouds when he first left but after stepping foot in the graveyard, he could tell that a storm was coming his way.

Graveyards were not his favourite places to be. The air always felt heavy and dreary, even as a kid who went with his father so that they could pay respects to an aunt Warriors never knew. As an soldier, it was a physical reminder of all the lives he took and all the lives he couldn't save, even if the vast majority of the dead had been resting long before he was even born. They were full of broken promises to other soldiers. It almost felt like he had no right to be there, as the one who might have been the reason for the headstone being there at all.

But he visited as many soldiers as he could anyway, despite how unwelcome he felt, because he still felt like he had to. He failed them all one way in other, and the least he could was apologize to the stone that represented their legacy and try to fulfill the promises they could no longer make good on.

Somebody had to live for the dead.

“What are you doing out here?” Warriors turned his head. Behind him stood Legend, holding a bundle in his arms. “You're not usually the one who needs babysitting.”

He decided not to say anything.

“How about... we sit down?” Legend mumbled, gesturing to the end of the graveyard where a small staircase carved into the rocky wall led to a slightly higher level of the graveyard. In the back, he could see a hole in the rocky wall, one that he was just wide enough for a person to crawl through. Legend found his seat first, under a tree that surely wasn't dense enough to provide enough cover if it did up storming, but it was better than nothing, so Warriors joined him.

“What is this about?” Legend didn't just sit him for a talk for no reason.

“Twilight told us all about that mutiny because he was worried. Time said he talked to you too and he thinks that you probably just need some time, but I just thought I would try too so... if you need to say anything, I'm here.”

Legend's face was softer than normal, his usual snark replaced by concern that he was usually pretty good at disguising. For him to take those walls down, even for just a little bit...

“I never had any doubts about that. It's just...” Where could he even begin? Talking to Time helped for a bit before the memories came back and reminded him of why it did bother him so much. Talking to Twilight was just talking about the facts and it didn't make either of them feel that great. Twilight hadn't asked for more than the facts, and while Legend didn't explicitly say so, Warriors had a feeling he expected more.

He looked at Legend again, who was gently unfolding the fabric in his arms. His scarf, he realized. Oh yes, Twilight did mention that Legend was trying to clean his clothes.

“I know the Yiga are dangerous people who want Wild's head on a silver platter, but they just... remind me of all the traitors I faced. I knew a lot of them, Legend. I looked up to one of them... I trained with one of them frequently and one of them used to be my bunk mate, and they all tried to take advantage of that. It even worked for a brief second because I was so shocked that many of my allies suddenly wanted all of us dead. One got a hit in because for a second, I couldn't believe what was happening.

“But do you know what I did? I sliced his neck open. He died before he could regret ever going after me. I knew these people for at least two years and I killed them all without a second thought because that's just what I'm trained to do. I still had to take care of the actual objective on top of that too! The mutiny happened in the middle of trying to close a gate to reverse the damage Cia caused!”

He could still feel the resistance as he pushed the blade into Muray Mullen's back. He could see still Kieran Smith's eyes roll back into his skull as his life poured from his neck. He could still hear Dan Hillman's voice asking him a question that followed him around like a shadow. He could still feel Gregory Sullivan's spear in his hand, how odd it felt in a hand he wasn't used to fighting with while using a weapon he wasn't used to fighting with, and how strange it felt to still be able to take a life with it.

And they were only four of many. So many more. Only one was a turncoat leader, only one of five, and the lives he had to take to get to them was something he couldn't truly comprehend. It was just a lot of people. He couldn't put a number to it.

And why was he rambling? Why was it Legend that brought all of these feelings to the surface? Maybe it was because Legend had nothing to do with it. Legend had no idea until yesterday.

“As a soldier, I do what I have to do, especially in the heat of a battle. But as a hero? I can't call myself a hero! Would you believe that two people so far used their last breath to ask me how I could still call myself a hero? I can kill people with a flick of my wrist and I can do it in a second. I didn't even have to think about it. A soldier can do that but a hero...? Surely, a hero could do better. I'm just somebody who got in way over their head. I was just a cadet who was eager to fight and suddenly I was a captain leading people into battle. I'm no hero.”

There was a long silence as Warriors' words weighed on them both.

“What's your definition of a hero?”

“I...” He couldn't form any words. Warriors' mind drew a blank.

A hero was...

Just somebody who could do what he couldn't.

Right?

“I can't tell you how you should feel or what word you want to describe yourself with, but maybe your definition of a hero is more than anybody can live up to. We don't live in some sort of fairy tale were everything is right or wrong or even makes sense. Sometimes we have to do things that are unbecoming of a hero to be a hero. Not even murder is off the table if that's what the goddesses ask... and you know what?”

Legend closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Warriors tried, but he couldn't read the expression on the younger hero's face.

“It sucks that we're the ones who get stuck being pawns in some divine game of chess, but we're heroes because we're the only ones who see that stupid chess game to the end. We never asked to be part of that game and here we are, yet again, because five adventures wasn't enough for me.”

Warriors managed a laugh, because despite the veiled anger in Legend's words, their situation was just absurd when he sat down and actually thought about it. It wasn't the first time he met a version of himself, and it wasn't the first time he jumped through different time periods, but doing all of that all over again with eight other versions of himself? The first time alone was a once in a lifetime adventure, so of course something like that would happen to him again. Why not?

Legend only looked confused and concerned.

“Our situation is just crazy, that's all,” he answered, once he calmed down enough to talk. “You know, the only thing I wanted to do was to protect and help people. That was it. That was the only reason why I joined the military. I didn't want to be the hero, I didn't want some fancy title. All of that is meaningless. The titles haven't brought me any happiness. I know I did what I set out to do but... it's hard to see that past all the times I couldn't.”

“I get that. I get that more than you'll ever know.” Legend's words came out quieter than a whisper. He sounded so scared and so sad, and Legend came to try and cheer Warriors up. He shook his head though, his eyes wandering up to the darkening clouds. “Just... don't let all of the lives you couldn't save diminish all the lives you did save, and you saved more than you can count. I'm still trying to do this myself so it's not like I can talk but-”

“We can try to do that together, then,” Warriors said, his eyes falling once again that the bundle that Legend kept save the entire time. “Is that my scarf?”

“Yeah. I meant to give it to you right away but feelings happened. Here.”

He took the bundle. It wasn't just his scarf, but it was also his tunic and his undershirt. He gave it a quick look over, and if he didn't know any of it had blood stains or tears previously, he wouldn't have been able to find them. Legend was good at taking care of things though, even if he had a lot of things, so he wasn't surprised that it Legend could pull off the repairs so well.

“Huh, I don't think my sister could have done it any better.” Legend raised his eyebrow. “That's a compliment, I promise! My older sister has been sewing since she was like, three, so she's amazing when it comes to sewing. We all had to work in the shop and help out my parents since they won't sell anything that wasn't family made, but my older sister actually likes it. I just learned because I had to help out with the shop until I enrolled in the military.”

Just as he finished speaking, he was rewarded with a fat rain drop hitting him right on the nose. Legend patted him on the back.

“Let's get you back to Renado's before you catch another fever,” Legend mumbled, jumping to his feet.

“Hey, it's not my fault the wound got infected! I wasn't even awake when it happened.”

“Are you coming or not?”

Warriors huffed, but he followed Legend back nonetheless.