Chapter Text
Weird dreams haunted Wind’s nights. They weren’t the usual nightmares, instead he dreamed about dancing postboxes and screaming trees, begging for just a sip of Forest Water. He woke up confused, not remembering where he was, searching blindly for his treasure charts and feeling the sway of the ship. He hadn’t felt this seasick in a long time – the rations must’ve gone bad.
“Ambush!”
Who said that? The screaming trees? Gonzo? The son of a biscuit eater –
“Shut the fuck up”, he groaned, “I’m trying to sleep.”
Someone kicked him in the legs. “Get a move on, Sailor!”
“OI! Fucking scurvy dog – FUCK –“ Wind opened his eyes to the carnage that was an ambush by a shit ton of weird ass monsters he vaguely remembered. There were muffled voices and the shrill clanking of clashing weapons. Someone beside him rolled out of their bedroll, swearing about the early morning hours and promptly deflecting the blow of a spear. The sound rang inside Wind’s head and created an echo that rose to a cacophony of noise. What the hell. No ship swayed under his feet – it was the ground that did the deed like it never did before. If it could just stop moving –
“Kargaroc!”
A screeching bird swooped down and tried to claw his neighbor’s eyes out. On instinct, Wind’s fingers found the rope of his grappling hook and threw it at the bird – did he still need their feathers for this guy’s girlfriend? He couldn’t remember, but he’d rather be safe than sorry.
The metal appendage bore itself into featherless skin and the shrieking monster thrashed with its wings, before it crashed down into the earth.
Confusion let him stand still for a moment. This thing didn’t have any golden feathers… and then, finally, it clicked inside his head. This wasn’t the Great Sea at all, right? This was the era of Twilight and Hoskit’s girlfriend already had all the golden feathers she had wanted. Lucky girl.
Incomprehensible monster speech made him aware again of the situation at hand and he grasped the Phantom Sword’s hilt between his fingers, feeling its weight that was oddly irregular today. Sky was beside him, looking over his shoulder at him, with this look in his eyes, this fucking look –
“Go feed the fish”, he hissed at him. Now instead of the look, there was confusion in Skys face. Good. They all gave him the look from time to time, not even the Smithy or the Traveler were exempt of that. They couldn’t help it, they said, he was the youngest, so apparently, they must treat him like a baby. No matter how often he cleaved a monster to the brisket.
Dizzy like the newborn baby he absolutely wasn’t, he ducked under the club of a green-skinned monster with a mask over its mouth that Wind really didn’t remember the name of. It ended with -blin, like all the ugly shark bait that walked on two legs, wasn’t dead or wearing huge armor plates. It didn’t matter, next to the whatever-blin let an undead dogmonster snap its teeth where the Rancher’s thigh was just a second before and got promptly skewered by said Rancher’s blade and then crushed by his boot. The bones crunched and its staccato mixed wonderfully with all the other terrible noise in Wind’s head.
And as if this whole shitshow wasn’t overwhelming enough already, it started to rain. Just a light drizzle, but each small drop felt like a shiver of ice on his heated skin and the soft pitter-patter turned to static in his ears. He tried to shake the swirling spots out of his vision, but they were stubborn. It wasn’t the first time they got ambushed in the past weeks, since they had arrived in the Rancher’s era it seemed the monsters were out to get them, slowly whittling them down and never letting them sleep more than a few hours. All of them were tired by this point, but nonetheless, they fought on.
Just as they seemed to turn the sudden onslaught to their favor, the pack of skeletal dogs all but decimated and the other monsters slowly scattering, a deep rumble drove through the earth to their feet. It was all the warning they got; with a deafening squeal, a humongous boar crashed through the trees, ridden by two of the ugly green bastards, who instantly started showering them with arrows. Both of them were swiftly shot down by the Champion, but their mount didn’t halt in its rampage. In its wake followed more screeching, flying beasts and Bokoblins from seemingly across every era.
Twilight didn’t waste a second, he went after the thrashing boar. He stood in its way like a complete maniac, dodged the massive behemoth by an inch and threw himself into its saddle. Wind wasn’t the only one gaping for a hot minute while the Rancher barreled down everything in the path of his slobbering new mount. Yet its wild run was cut short when a silver skinned Moblin came through the lush green of their surroundings and struck its spear into the boar’s throat. Blood sprayed in a high arch and the Rancher was thrown in the wet dirt like a puppet with cut strings.
Wind was closest, next to Warriors, who was surrounded by snarling beasts and busy fending for himself.
Everything started to move like in stop motion and Wind glanced briefly at the Phantom Sword and wished he could use it for what it was made. But the magic was gone and he didn’t yet know how to get it back – he did have another ace up his sleeves though.
With a stuttering breath, he swung his sword to the side and closed his eyes for just a moment, forcing his magic inside the blade. The secret technique Orca had taught him; he remembered the old fisherman’s tears as he fell to his knees, bawling about his dream that had finally come true. It made his magic strong and steady, and when he released it, his body listened to the song of his sword and threw itself into motion. The world spun around itself, round and round, again and again, in a violent blur of faded green and grey. Raindrops hit his face like needles and a drop of blood splattered on his cheek and when he finally stopped to move, the earth still twisted and turned in every direction. A shadow in his peripheral made him flinch and in one pulse of his beating heart, he whipped his sword in its direction, desperately trying to regain his sense of balance.
His sister called his name as she was carried away, perhaps never to be seen again. Tetra wheezed in the grasp of the man that made a kingdom drown. The waves struck the rocks of the shattered island, the silence in the air deafened every sound.
The strike of a Darknut. The spear of a Moblin. The claws of a demonic bird. The blades of a madman. It was all the same – he just had to fight back.
“Sailor!”
The blurry face of a foe was no unfamiliar sight. He thrust his sword forward, catching on blue fabric, hearing it rip.
“Link, STOP!”
His movements screeched to a very sudden halt and he stared at the blurry face of – Warriors. He had a cut in his scarf and a stain of red seeped through his sleeve. Ah. Oh. There was something on Winds cheek. It was warm and wet. He touched it and stared at the blood on his fingers.
What?
Was it monster blood?
Or not?
He couldn’t tell. His insides wanted to turn itself outward.
“Hey.” He looked at the blurry face that spoke with the Captain’s voice. “Drop your sword, please.”
He stared at the Phantom Sword. Dark blood dripped from its tip. He unclenched his fingers and it dropped into the mud.
“Good”, the Captain said, “Are you alright?”
“You should ask that yourself”, he said without thinking.
“I asked you.”
“I’m fine”, he said.
“You don’t look fine.”
“I’m fine”, he repeated clearly frustrated and his eyes shifted from left to right and back. They could stop now. Everything was fine and well. It was just a side effect of weird dreams and a hurricane spin. And the ground perpetually spinning like the hurricane spin never ended.
“… Are you sure?”
He wanted to laugh, but it didn’t work. Instead, he stumbled. “Sure am –“
The Captain caught him. He fell into his arms while the noise in his head grew too loud to bear and his vision went black.
When he came to roughly thirty seconds later, there was a portal in front of them. A purple haze of magic that pulled on them and urged them forward. Wind didn’t care. He opened his eyes and then he threw up all over the Captain’s precious blue scarf.
The next time his senses came back, at first there was just the swirl of magic in the air, mixing with the sway of the nonexistent ship. It made his stomach lurch from one side to the other, but there was nothing left to give. Evident of that was an absolutely rotten taste on his tongue and burning needles in his throat.
Then he heard voices, but the words spoken didn’t make any sense at first, like the riddled speech that was the ancient hyrulean the guardians of the Great Sea spoke. The words just flooded inside his addled brain, but didn’t get processed until slowly a shift happened and the jumbled nonsense turned into comprehensible speech, that seemed far away.
… Never seen the head of a Moblin fligh this high. Damn.
Oh, you should see what I can do with stasis…
Seriously though. What the hell was that?
He’s been acting off for a while.
He has? And here I thought that’s just puberty.
He heard them talk about him and it kind of bothered him, but darkness beckoned. It was easier to stay in the dark, it kept the waves at bay. Instead of crashing down on him, they merely washed over him.
The distorted voices became clearer and he started to be able to make out who was actually speaking.
“He needs a break. We all do”, Time said. “And it seems we are done here.”
Some of them murmured.
“Maybe all of this really is too much for a thirteen-year-old”, Twilight said what he probably thought all the fucking time.
“This again? Come on Rancher. You know some of us had to do shit like this even younger than him”, came Legends rather surprising retort.
“I drew the master sword at twelve, like he did”, Wild said. “And I was in knight’s training before that. I mean, I don’t remember much of it, but…” He trailed off.
“Yea and look what it did to you”, Twilight all but growled.
Quietly, Wind groaned.
“Link?” Wars’ Voice was like a boom of thunder above his struggling vessel, louder than anyone else’s, even though he clearly tried to keep it low. The Captain laid a cool hand on his forehead and even in his state of disrepair, Wind tried to swat him away.
A small huff. “What will we do with you?”
It was only now that Wind dimly noticed the sway of the world was still there, but different. It took him a minute to comprehend he was being carried. And it took him another one to realize his apparent position on the Captain’s back.
“… Wars…”, he mumbled.
“Yes?”
“… Did I hurt you…?”
“No.” And after Wind didn’t respond, he felt Warriors shift and turn his head again, smiling in his peripheral. “Don’t worry.” There was a strain in his voice he tried to hide.
The question went unsaid. Wind didn’t really want to know. But he knew it was close. He hadn’t thought ahead again. Maybe the Rancher was right. Maybe he was just too much of a child to be trusted. Launching himself into a whirlwind of spinning blades while those he wanted to protect were near, forgetting their faces in the heat of battle, hallucinating of things that were long in the past.
“We’ve all been running ourselves into the ground for a while now”, came Fours voice from somewhere on the left. “These ambushes just kept happening, day and night… kid’s probably exhausted, like the rest of us.”
“He has a fever”, Warriors said.
“Ah, so he’s sick and didn’t tell us. What else is new in Linkland”, Legend scoffed.
“We can discuss this once we’re out of this place”, Time said. “And hopefully in a safer environment with time to rest up.”
“You know our luck”, Legend said, albeit quieter than before. “Wouldn’t be surprised if the next hellhole awaits on the other side.”
“Can’t be worse than what we just went through”, Sky offered, always trying to lift the mood, though he likely knew it wasn’t true.
“I’d agree with you but then we’d both be wrong.”
Hyrule, wo hadn’t said much so far, hummed quietly. “I noticed”, he said more or less out of the blue and absolutely not on topic, “There’s something like an aftertaste of dark magic in the air here. The innate magic of this earth seems… changed. Altered by an outside source. Something still lingers.”
Twilight made a muffled sound and there was rustling of fabric heard. “The influence of the twilight invasion. The land is still healing from that.” The earth beneath his boots crunched. He paused. Wind tried to look at the Rancher, but he was only a shadow against the light of the barely risen sun. No one continued the conversation. Instead, they all turned to the portal.
When they moved closer to the magical gateway, Wind noticed the hilt of his sword on Warriors’ side. Someone tried to clean the Blood off it, but smears of it were still sticking to its steel, some of them tarblack. Weakly, he reached out an arm and tried to grab it, to keep it close, because if he could just get another chance to prove himself capable – but the Captain shifted him on his back, positioning him just out of reach without even a look or a comment. He grunted. Searched his scattered mind for the words he wanted to speak, the curses he wanted to let loose, but nothing was found. Everything escaped him. So he said nothing at all, just let his smoldering cheek rest against the Captains shoulder. There was an itch underneath his tunic, like sand sticking to sweat-soaked skin. But the sensation soon faded out, along with the voices, even that of Warriors. When there was nothing left but the sway and the all-encompassing feeling of magic turning him upside down, he let himself be swallowed by the creeping darkness.