Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cover Art

Eventually time catches up to you.

People always say you can't escape your past. You can't run and hide away from it, or pretend it's a bad dream. As much as Time is sure everyone else in the group feels the same, there's still a part of him that knows he most likely had it the worst.

He’s never told any of the group about his own adventures. Wild and Wind tend to be much more open about theirs, each for their own reasons. But Time could never find himself blessed with the comfort to spill his own tale. On occasion, he would catch the sailor giving puzzled glances at the old man, maybe recognizing him from Warriors’ age. But the boy never brought it up with him. Time doesn’t blame Wind either, Last time they had their chance meeting they were the same age, now Time is married and settled with a life aside from doing Hylia’s bidding. Such is the strangeness of time travel.

Twilight often looks at the old man with the same sort of expression. But in his orange eyes, it's less a question of who and more of what happened. That, too, is the strangeness of time travel. From what little is obvious to glean from Twilight, transformation is key in both of their adventures, in a way. Back in Termina time remembers the screams that escape his cracked lips and how bones broke to twist into a new shape. To think his successor did that often to keep them safe leaves a pit in Time’s stomach. He knows well Twilight’s unwillingness to disclose his other form, but for a few in the group it was more an open secret. It seems the ranch hand hasn't put that together yet.

The fire crackles in the night, giving the Chain a passionate glow. Wild stood over a pot, ingredients materializing with a blue glow from his slate. Wind and Hyrule are playing catch with Four’s headband, much to the dismay of the smith. Legend, Twilight, and Warriors are discussing plans going forward, the Captain of the three leading the conversation. It is his Hyrule afterall. Sky is whittling down a branch he found, carving intricate patterns in the wood. It doesn't look to be anything, more just something for him to do.

And of course, Time watches over them. Over his family. He's found himself much more protective over them after the two months they've spent together. He glances an eye back over to the three, listening into their conversation.

“We should head north by daybreak tomorrow, we can reach Castletown by noon the next day at a good pace.” Warriors suggests.

“A good pace?” Legend scoffs, making a motion with his hand. “A good pace for you is a near sprint. I don't think some of us can keep up. We just got Time back on his feet!”

It’s true. He did take a rather nasty hit to the back by a sneaky Lizalfos. It seemed to materialize behind him, ready to kill. Wind mentioned after the battle it was from his world, the Great Sea. His back is still out of whack even after a fairy gave her blessed healing. Maybe it’s old age. He’s been struggling to stay up since, thus the valid concern from his brothers.

Twilight puts his hand on Legends shoulder, settling the hero a bit “And y’all got plenty a rest then. He’ll be aight, but we can compromise ‘n go a lil’ slow if ya’d like.'' The ranch hand gives a look to Warriors, who returns a nod.

“Then let it be that. A moderately good pace it is.” Captain responds with a slightly joking tone getting a grumble from Legend as he leaves the small meeting circle. The boy walks over and sits himself down in front of the fire, a sour look covering his face. It’s clear something is bothering the veteran hero, and Hyrule seems to catch on. Hyrule hands Four’s headband back to its owner, much to a little sailor’s very verbal dismay and finds his place next to his predecessor. Four himself puts his headband back on, adjusting it so it sits just right. The smith isn’t always particular about things, but he’s a near perfectionist at times. Twilight and Warriors are still talking low, something about checking on Twi’s health and wellbeing. The captain seems to share the same newfound protectiveness of the group Time had found.

Time is happy to see Legend taking a place in strategy meetings. He does have experience on his side after all. But there are times the hero can be emotional, he’s still a boy after all. Something inside of Time twists at the thought. He’s still a boy. A lot of the Chain are unfortunate enough to be as young as they are. But another more positive voice tells him that they are also all capable of the task at hand, whatever it is. They all assume it’s defeating the Shadow, but that can’t be all, it’s never just that.

The old man’s hand finds itself tracing the markings on his face, a physical reminder of his time as a hero. It feels nothing like his skin, more like squishy pottery that fused to his face. He’s honestly surprised Malon can still look at him the way she does. Wind, now without a distraction, seems to notice Time’s dismay. He finds his way onto the log next to him.

“Does it hurt?”

“What..?”

“Your markings. Do they hurt?”

“Oh.” Time pulls his hand down, rubbing his thumb along his fingers. “I suppose in a way. But if you’re asking physically, no.”

Wind lets out disgruntled hum, clearly not impressed by the answer. “So… Emotionally? Mentally! Wait no that doesn’t… Does that make sense?”

Time gives a quick chuckle. He knows Wind is mature enough for his age. Farore knows he had to be for his first quest. But, he still doesn't want to burden the boy with his tale. He looks back to the fire with a frown on his lips and creases between his brow.

“Time. you didn’t answer my question.” Wind remarks with concern littering his tone. Time opens his mouth to give a response before Warriors cuts in, addressing the group as a whole.

“I’m going to divvy up the watches now. I want everyone here to get a good night's rest for tomorrow. We’ll be on the road all day.” A mixture of groans and verbal complaints meet the captain's commands, but he continues. “Do we have any volunteers?”

Wild raises their right hand, ladling a meaty stew into bowls with their left. When they finish pouring the soup they set the ladle across the stewpot and raise their hands to sign. “I’ll take third. Want to make road snacks.”

Time can hear Legend quietly translate for Hyrule, who's following along with his own hands trying to learn the language of his mute brother. Twilight and Warrior nod in unison, the former offering up a thankful pat on head to the chef. Time raises his hand next. “I can take first.”

Wind perks up. “I’ll take second!”

A few faces turn to the sailor. Anyone who wanted to reject Time’s offer for the first watch immediately got distracted by Wind. Usually they would have to force the duty on him as he crosses his arms and pouts about how tired he was after walking and wanting to be back on his ship. Said sailor clearly caught on to everyone's suspicion and bawks at them “Can’t I want to take more responsibility?”

A few eyebrows raise, a little discourse coming from the lips of his brothers before Warriors lets out a commanding ‘Ahem!’. Everyone’s attention now turns back to the captain, Sky struggling to keep himself down on his seat after all his knight training.

“Well if everyone is against Wind taking second watch, does anyone else want to volunteer?” Warriors cocks an eyebrow, giving a stern gaze to each of the Chain. After taking the complete silence as an answer he raises his hands and claps them together with a smile. “So be it! Wind will get second. Now let's eat dinner and get to bed.” he waves a hand to Wild who is already handing out bowls of stew.

The aroma wafts through the air stronger than ever. Time accepts his bowl and looks at the contents. Some sort of meat with potatoes and kale. Lifting a spoonful to his mouth, Time notes a hint of spice enter his nostrils as he tastes his meal. Immediately the taste of beef meets his taste buds, meshing well with the potato that melts in his mouth. The spices burst in his mouth with the potato that had stored all the flavor perfectly inside. Kale gives a nice crunch and color to the stew, rounding everything together.

Soon enough the night is filled with sounds of slurping, spoons against bowls, and Legend chastising Wind for talking with food in his mouth. Sky is the first to finish and quickly shuffles his way to Wild to ask if there's more, who responds by pulling out his slate and touching it to the pot. The pot vanishes in an instant along with whatever soup was left. Sky complains and the chef just responds by sticking out his tongue in a playful taunt. The Chosen grabs Wild’s head and starts ruffling his hair. In turn Wild swats at Sky, knocking his bowl to the ground. As soon as it started the two started to roughhouse, rolling in the ground of the campsite. Time catches Four and Legend placing bets. Hyrule is preparing a rag and bandages for any potential cuts and bruises. Wind is standing on top of the log next to Time, using his shoulder to balance, cheering on Sky. Twilight shifts forward in his seat, watching Wild in excitement. 

Time and Warriors give the other a silent look questioning each other if they should stop. Time shakes his head, giving a motion for the Captain to look back at the pair. Sky is on top of Wild as they struggle for the win, both covered in mud but both with the widest smile any of them had seen them wear in a long time. Warriors nods, letting it go on for a while.

Meals were had and scrapes tended to. Legend’s wallet is 20 rupees heavier since Wild managed to topple the chosen hero in a headlock. Now the night is filled with snores and soft breathing as Time takes his watch. The stars captivate his eye, despite how muddled they are. Time knows what happened to this version of Hyrule, much to his own dismay. A frown finds itself on his face, he knows well what happened. He remembers the smell of cannon fodder and blood mixing in the air. Even now it still lingers in the forest. The simple fact it managed to spread even out here is… unimaginable.

Time rolls his shoulders, easing the pain of years with heavy armor to melt off with the simple motion. Unbuckling his left wrist guard, repetitive movement wearing on his right, he takes it off to show the triforce mark ever so subtly on his hand. The proof of his deeds. Time mentally shrugs off the anger at the Goddess building in his consciousness and rubs his aching wrist. Maybe Legend has some sort of ring for these pains. Boy seems to have one for everything else.

He checks the internal clock ticking away in the back of his head. Something that started and never stopped when he first awoke in front of Rauru. He knew he had to keep track of himself somehow. So came the counting of seconds, seconds that retained his sense of self. And now those seconds are telling him it’s time to wake Wind.

Time fastens his wrist guard back into place as he steps carefully over to the sailor. He kneels down next to him and shakes him gently. “Second watch, wake up” Time whispers. Wind stirs, rubbing his eyes with one hand and pushing himself up to sit with another. Wind opens his eyes, giving Time the go ahead to make his way to his own bedroll. Warriors said it himself, they all need to be rested.

But before Time can lay his head Wind stops him.

“Are you going to answer the question now?”

Time turns in his bedroll, looking at a now fully awake and mildly upset sailor. His arms are crossed as if expecting an answer.

“What question?” Time acts dumb.

Wind points to his own face, “Does it hurt?”

Time scoffs at his resilience. “I said it doesn’t."

“You said it doesn't physically.” He doesn't relent.

A sigh escapes Time’s lips as he traces the marks again. “It doesn’t. It’s just a bad memory.”

“So it does hurt mentally!” Wind fistbumps to accompany his loud remark before covering his mouth. A few heroes stir. Time and Wind sit in silence for a moment before Wind continues. “So what happened?”

“Nothing to be concerned with now.”

Wind scoffs, “That’s not true. Don’t act like I didn't see how you looked at the masks earlier!”

Time is silent. He thinks back to earlier in the night as they were just settling into camp. The topic of masks was brought up. Quite a few of the Chain happened to have masks on their adventures to Time’s surprise. Wild even had Majora’s. He had Majora’s mask for crying out loud! That salesman knows better than to…

Time must have been in his head for too long for Wind. “So... Ya want to explain?” He’s trying so hard to act like Warriors right now. It honestly makes him less threatening. It’s simply too bad he won’t be getting an answer, at least not tonight. Time is simply not mentally equipped to even consider the discussion of that mask with him.

“Goodnight, Wind.”

Time proceeds to lay fully on his back, letting the pillow hug his head. Wind stomps over, small plumes of dust kicking up from the dried dirt surrounding the fire. Time opens a single eye as the boy’s silhouette blocks out the ember’s glow. Wind’s mouth opens to yell, stopped only by a stern glare and a nod to the rest of the slumbering chain. There's a silent understanding between the oldest and youngest of the Chain, the latter returning to his place by the fire. Wind starts absentmindedly poking the fire with a stick, the sweet warmth refilling the camp and sending a wave of relaxation over Time. Finally, after a minute and 37 seconds past the start of second watch, he can get some sleep.

“I have the Hero’s Spirit of Courage too!”

He’s not really sure why he lied. Maybe it's from a lack of proof? No, no, that’s not it. Wind never needed proof or facts to get a point across. Right? Well, that doesn't matter. What does matter is getting these lines straight.

Wind brings an ink pen to the page, keeping a steady hand and with the fine tip. Dots and lines adorn the page, making the vague shapes on the copy of the night sky. He looks up, squinting for a clearer image, thankful for at least the amount he can see in the opening of the trees. He glances at a seemingly near copy with “Time” labeled in the upper left hand corner in a messy scrawl, a detailed map of the stars that week in spring. He traces a trail of stars with his right pointer.

“The Wind Fish is longer, huh.” he thinks aloud. “And he had a shark fin now!” He first noticed it when he and Wild met Sky in his Hyrule…

“We're going off course, if we’re heading north we need to follow that star-” Wind points to the star he knew in his time to be perfectly directionally north, “- It’s straight north, we’re about 8 degrees off to the right.” Wind says jumping down from a branch.

Wild shakes their head, clearly not agreeing. They do their best to communicate with partial sign to accommodate for the other two’s lack thereof. “No. Left 10-5 (15) star.”

“What? No, it's straight north there's no other way its wrong!” Wind argues.

“You can use the stars to navigate? I suppose without the Loftwing’s assistance there would need to be other ways…” Link trails off, looking at where Wind is pointing. “But we’re almost there, so we don’t need to worry about getting lost.”

As if in response to Link a small settlement makes itself known through the thinning trees. Tents are set up in a semi-circle around a barely alight fire, a few chairs filled with older looking Hylians at ease from a long day mapping a new region. Barrels and boxes find themselves neatly tucked under one of the bigger tents acting as a storehouse. On the other side of the semi circle is a river, a makeshift dock holding up another Hylian with a rod in one hand and a waterskin of something that Wind could only assume wasn’t water with how said man was knocked out cold.

Wind takes a moment to examine the sky. There's no way neither of these two knew of the literal north star, especially Wild. The two bonded quickly over sharing their stories and Wind knows for a damn fact they can navigate. Sea green eyes drift to the Mama Bear Constellation, tracing dots and lines. But… the tail isn't where it's supposed to be. Its way off-

-That's when it hits the sailor. The entire sky is different! Not entirely no but just enough that maybe the north star isn't north. But he doesn't have long to celebrate the discovery when Link comes back, guiding a very pretty girl with him. Wind is so gonna pester him about that later, especially with the soft blush now on the knight’s face.

“This-” Link motions with his free hand, “-is Zelda. She is the founder of Hyrule.”  Yep. His smile says it all, he is 100%  dating that chick.

“You forgot Girlfriend, Link. You needn’t be so formal, this isn’t the knights academy.” Zelda says, landing a small peck on Link’s cheek. Goddess he’s so red! Wind can’t hold back his laugh as it erupts out of him, Wild following suite, though more with the motion. they only let out a dry exhale instead of an actual full laugh.

The two settle down after a moment, Wind wiping a tear from his cheek. Looking up, Link is blushing, looking away and into the sky while Zelda is chuckling. “You found some rowdy friends, Link. I’m happy for you. And you two,” she turns to Wild and Wind, “please do let me know if there's anything we can do for you.”

Wind taps his pointer on his chin, glancing back up at the sky. “Actually, can you get me a pen and paper?”

Every single sky has been different, and being back in Warriors’ time, Wind knows there's something going on. Stars don't just move, do they? That doesn't matter, what does matter is The Hero constellation is thankfully not too different from his, and this map won't draw itself.

In Time’s Hyrule, everything felt so wrong looking up at the sky from Lon Lon Ranch. And it felt worse back in Sky’s time. Absolutely nothing was right. He felt lost going nowhere, even just sitting down he found himself dizzy.

But now, things are mostly the same. Familiar enough to find a sense of stability from the stars. Sure, the north star isn't true north here, but it's much closer. Much more familiar.

Half a star chart and two bottles of ink later Wind feels it's around time to wake Wild. He's still not exactly happy with the cook after he needlessly tried to save him because what, he's small? Does he need to tell the story of how he impaled Ganon’s head with the master sword again? Maybe. Maybe this time he’ll really drive home how heroic and awesome that fight was!

…

Who is he kidding? That won't work. To the chain he's just young and small. Someone needing protection. He uses a knife instead of a shield because he doesn't need protection! It's how he fights! Agility is Wind’s middle name! He rolls up three star maps labeled Sky, Time, and Warriors, tucking them in his pack. It doesn't matter, who cares what they think! The cork goes back into the bottle of ink, keeping it from spilling. They clearly don't know anything anyways. Wiping the pen tip, placing it tightly with the rest of his little project. Yea, Who cares!

…

Wind cares.

He runs his fingers through his hair, ruffling his dirty locks as he gets up to wake Wild There's so many knots it tugs at his scalp. Why is it so hard to gain the trust and respect of his peers in the Chain? He kneels next to Wild’s bedroll, er.. Or lack thereof, and reaches out to shake them awake, But they stirs before Wind even touches them. Muffled and dry exhales let Wind know Wild is fully waking up.

“Morning, Wild.”

“Morning, Wind” Wild signs sloppily with one hand pushing themselves up.

Wind sits down, his bedroll next to Wild’s sleeping spot. It always is, always has been. He watches Wild walk to the fire and throw some wood on the fire, fueling it for cooking or something. Doesn't matter, it's time for bed. He rubs his fingers over the red bandana tied to his left wrist, a copy of that brilliant color made just for him.

He misses Tetra.

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The midday sun flashes through the thick canopy right into Hyrule’s eyes, causing him to lift his gloved hand to block it. While it’s been 3 months since he first saw what the sun really looked like behind the red brown smog, he never got fully used to it. Even now, this forest is brighter than any summer in his time, and warmer too. Hyrule suddenly regrets his long clothing, feeling the sweat drip down his back. Sure, it worked in his time but now he wishes he had less coverage. He wipes sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He turns to look at Legend beside him. He has a lack of fatigue and glistening skin. In front of them, Four is telling Sky about the Picori, or Minish as the smith calls them, small little creatures who hide rupees and other goodies in the grass and trees. Further ahead, Twilight and Time, both covered in heavy armor of some sorts, seem relatively fine. It’s just Hyrule who’s struggling with the heat.

They’ve been walking since sunrise, and as wonderful of a breakfast Wild had made for them all, Hyrule can feel a pit grow in his stomach. There's a reminder in his head from all the nagging he's received since joining the chain. He fishes out the small meal Wild said they made for everyone. A snack, he thinks they called it. What a weird idea, something to eat in between meals! Almost as weird as when everyone insisted three meals a day was average. He felt thankful for the food and lack of starvation either way.

Wild had made something they called a granola bar. Some sort of grain mixed with nuts and dried fruit, held together with peanut butter and honey. At least that's what Legend said when eating his earlier. Hyrule couldn't exactly understand the full explanation by the chef himself in sign, not yet anyways. Their sign just gets faster when they get excited, and Wild has an immeasurable passion for cooking, much to Hyrule’s pleasure and dismay.

He takes a small bite out of the bar and gives an unintentional hum of joy as the flavors perfectly blend together. It’s sweet and salty in all the right ways and not too dry thanks to the honey. The dried fruit gives a sour bite to the added sweetness, just perfect to round everything together.

“Those are mangos, if you were wondering” Legend answers the unasked question, offering his waterskin. “You’ve been sweating a lot, you need to stay hydrated.”

Hyrule grabs the waterskin and takes a swig, letting the lukewarm water bring new life into his dry throat. There's a sense of rejuvenation as the liquid settles with the food in his stomach. He’s blessed to be in a world with so much readily available. He hands the waterskin back to Legend with a nod of thanks. “Do you think they have any fresh ones?”

“Mayhaps, that slate of theirs seems to store anything.” Vet responds with a hum before speaking again with little more than a whisper.  “Nevermind that, I need to talk to you about something.”

Whispers? A secret? Hyrule and Legend had talked before about many of them. Koholint, the Dark World. The traveler even said a few of his own, in exchange. His spell of Life and fairy blood being his own. Though he never mentioned what that blood entailed in case it spilt. He raises a brow and looks at his walking buddy, who motions to Wind further ahead, in front and to the right of Four and Sky, off trail chasing Wild above him in the trees. Just as Hyrule was about to ask if he has to treat poison oak again he sees it. Only for a moment, when the sun beams through the trees and casts a shadow down behind Wind he sees it. Something distinctly not the sailor. A familiar chill finds its way up Hyrule’s back “what is that?” the question leaves his mind without permission.

“Some sort of dark magic.” Legend responds promptly with a scowl fully forming on his face. “Something that should not exist in a group full of heroes of light.”

“Why Wind? Is it preying on him?” Hyrule ponders, a similar look of concern finding its way on his face as well.

“I’m not sure. We best let it be for now. I’m more worried about him ” Legend spits, his cold violet gaze finds its way to Four, still on the topic of the Minish. Despite his full investment in the topic, there's an occasional twitch of the head towards Wind and whatever creature is hiding in its shadow. “He knows of its presence, so why is he talking about children’s tales!?” The hushed yell makes Hyrule tense up, causing the veteran to soften almost instantly. Legend puts a gentle hand on Hyrule’s shoulders and a quiet apology echoes between them.. Neither of them speak, but the conversation is one of acceptance and promises to improve. Magic signatures that nobody else can sense as keenly as these two pulsate a warmth and wrap in ribbons that tie together in knots to show the bond the young men have. A metaphorical embrace.

“Lege, I think…” Hyrule trails, “...You're right, in the fact Four can tell somethings wrong,” He brings his hands together, weaving fingers and fidgeting with his thumbs with his copper gaze casted down, “but he knows not to bring it up now. Getting to Castle Town and resupplying is more important than causing worry?” He ends in more of a question than an answer. Legend seems to accept it with a hum but even Hyrule can’t understand the inner workings of his mind sometimes.

“That makes sense. He’s usually the precautious type.” Legend hums “Perhaps it’s best we trust him for now.” He says, turning up at Hyrule. There's those soft and warm eyes he’s known, the ones he wishes everyone can see. “But Rue, if he does anything suspicious I will not let it go unnoticed.”

“I know I’m not changing your mind on that!” Hyrule gives a smile. All thoughts of heat or dark magic vanish from his mind as the duo laugh. A few stares come their way but neither care, it's better to spend a long walk like this anyways. As the two’s chuckling dies down, Legend gives Hyrule a soft nudge with his elbow.

“Eat the rest of that bar, you need to gain some weight.”

“I’m eatin’ I’m eatin’!” He obliges taking another bite out of the bar, letting the joy from the flavor show on his face. Maybe he can get Wild to make more, and teach him how to sign it. As he's chewing, he notices the veteran’s widely known ‘scowl of disgruntlement’ as Twilight calls it. But, it's pointed at him. Hyrule swallows and attempts to stutter out a question, failing miserably. He hates this look. It’s awful, almost as awful as Time’s disappointed glare.

Legend points to the right corner of his mouth, tracing the pointer across his lips. “Can we talk about that now?” He raises a brow. His scar. Hyrule hates the topic of his scar, the one that cuts across his mouth, the one that thing caused. The other ones are fine, but this one…

Nothing good comes from talking about it, just nightmares and reminders.

The traveler shrinks in his spot, almost forgetting to put his foot down mid step. Legend seems to understand with a nod. Hyrule stares. He stares past Four and Sky, past Time and Twilight, past everyone. He stares into nothing, feeling nothing. An emptiness fills his body.

“Hey.”

There's nothing but his heart thumping and his breaths quickening,

struggling against the tightness of his chest.

“Hyrule.”

But.. there's something else. A tapping from somewhere, what part

of his body is that, even?

“Hyrule!!”

He’s shaken back into reality, back to his own eyes and ears. Twilight is in front of him, both hands on his shoulders shaking him slightly. Legend is holding his left arm and hand with a sturdy grip. The rest of the group stand in wait further ahead on the trail. They had stopped, when did that even happen?

“Farore, kiddo,” Twi called him kiddo? “You gave us quite the scare, don’t zone out on us like that, yea?”

He blinks, furrowing his brow. “Huh? What happened?”

“You did that thing again. Where you stare into space all unresponsive like.” The rancher replies, more worried looks. Did he do something wrong? “Legend said he brought something up that may have been a brother to ya?”

Hyrule thinks back. Legend? A bother? He mentioned his sca-

He can feel his heartbeat rising again, shoulders raising and eyes widening, only to be tugged out of the spiral by soothing whispers and a soft, caring hand on his back. Legend is rubbing circles on his back, something to focus on besides the darkness clawing at the back of his head. Something warm, shining a light at the end of the tunnel.

“I, uh.” Hyrule swallows thickly, “Sorry. I’m really not sure what happened. We can keep going.” Focus. Focus on everything around you, Link.

He’s met with skepticism. Twilight’s eyes narrow and Legend keeps whispering affirmation in the sing songy voice reserved just for him. “If ya say so. But you’re getting plenty of rest when we set camp.” Ranch Hand demands, letting him go and turning back to the rest of the group with a thumbs up. They start moving again.

Legend is giving that worried look again. It’s awful.

Finally as the sun set over the trees Warrior’s called for camp to be set. ‘No reason to keep going once the sun left them’, he said. Four for one agreed, while there's technically time left in the day it’ll be wonderful to be able to rest! But that itching feeling deep within the back of his mind is still screaming to break. He has to get away, to organize his brain.

Wild and Wind are building a fire, the former stacking the logs and branches the latter swiftly gathers. Twilight is checking on Hyrule after.. Whatever happened on the trail. He didn't really explain. Legend is only a few feet away hacking at some brushes to make space for bedrolls. Warriors is helping Time out of his armor, it’s clear as day that the old man’s back is really out of sorts at the moment. Sky rummages through his pack before pulling out some sort of patch? No, it looks like a heavy pillow. It sounds like there's some sort of grain inside. He’ll have to ask later.

Everyone's doing something and Four is just there. Struggling to keep it together. Being unproductive. He fingers twitch to pull his sword, to just metaphorically cut himself in half and stop the internal struggle.

“I need to refill my waterskin, I’ll be right back” He spurts, dropping his bags near the starting fire.

“Wait, Four” Captain calls.

Shit, are they on to him? Do they know about his connection to the shadow? Do they think he’ll do something? No, he doesn't want to be abandoned! He might have to fight them all at the same once!

“There’s a river that way, comes straight from the mountains too.” Wars points behind him with his other hand on his hip. Crisis avoided.

“Ah, yea right.” Four turns on his heels, walking in the direction given by the oh so wonderful captain. No banter, not now. There's too much to think about, to talk about. He marches past everyone, on a mission. He didn’t even notice he left his waterskin in his pack, or the side eye he’s getting from Legend.

Just as Warriors said, he reaches a river. It’s far away enough, Four decides. His hand wraps firmly around the handle of his sword, pulling it swiftly with a single motion. There's a light that penetrates the darkness as white turns to a flurry of color. Four near identical Fours stand in a circle around the original position. Vio, with his archer attire, rests his sword hand at his side. “We all noticed that, right?”

Blue, heavyset armor adorning him, speaks next. “Yea, that bastard is back, do I get to pummel him this time?”

“No, Blue, he saved us, remember?” Green, the most similar to the original attire.

“I don't want to hurt him… But he seemed more powerful this time around” Red comments, rubbing his tower shield.

They all stay in the circle, none of them making eye contact. They all know that feeling, the one Shadow once brought when he was around. The feeling Vio remembers fondly. “I’m not sure that was him.”

“You’re joking right, we all felt his dark powers right from Wind’s back!” Blue shouts, waving his sword haphazardly. Green puts a hand on his arm as he leans back before getting a new haircut.

“I’m not.” Vio answers. “ I was more acquainted with him prior to his.. This ‘Shadow’ is more akin to a blackhole than a reflection of ourselves.” His eyes narrow more, pondering. “If it is him, I’m more concerned about the means he’s revived.”

“That's right! Didn't he need a source of dark magic to live!” Red states, waving a pointed finger in front of him. “Is there some sort of dark mirror in this Hyrule?”

“No that’s not possible, We know Time came after us, and Warriors is somewhere after him.” Green retorts. “The mirror is gone, it’s something else.”

“So..” Blue trails, a snarky grin appearing on his face. “..That’s gotta be why Hylia brought us together, to smash this new darkness?”

Green sighs. “No, well. Maybe.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “There's a chance there's more to it than meets the eye.”

“There’s the issue of the others not knowing.” Vio starts. “Talks between comrades may be used against us.”

Blue laughs. “You think any of these chumps are gonna spill anytime soon? We’ll figure this out before anything happens!”

“We need to work with them, Blue!” Red whines “We learned that!”

“Red is right, we need to tell someone. Preferably when Shadow isn’t around.” Green agreed.

“We appear settled then. Any more dawdling and our team may grow suspicious.” Vio concludes, holding his sword out to the center of them, followed quickly by Green who taps his delicately on top. Blue hits his blade rather hard on the bottom, getting a glare from the two other colors.

“I hope all goes well…” Red worries, holding his blade to the center as well. With the same flash, four becomes one, colors combine to a white light as Four sheaths his sword. With a sigh and a slight stumble before landing his foot correctly in front of the other, he makes is way back to camp.

Pushing aside the brush, Four walks into a rather chaotic scene. Twilight, Time, and Warriors are moving everyone's bedding from one side of the fire to the other, Legend cutting a new clearing for everyone’s stuff on the same side, while Wind and Sky are questioning Hyrule, who is halfway in a bush, if they really need to move all their stuff this late. Wild is pretending to be blissfully ignorant with whatever they’re making in that stewpot of theirs.

“There’s absolutely no reason to move things, especially after we’ve been walking all day!” Sky claims, Wind giving a “Humph!” and nod in agreement. Hyrule leans back from behind the bush, sticks in his hair holding a purple and red flower. He looks pale.

“This flower is toxic to fairies, we can’t have it anywhere near them, even the pollen in the air around it is toxic.” He exclaims, handing it over to Sky who studies it before continuing. “If we slept near them the pollen could seep into our clothes and deter fairies. If something happened before we got to town it would hinder us.”

Four approaches Sky, leaning around his arm to get a good look at the offending flower. It looks just like a normal iris, but there's the vague patterning of a skull with the red blotches on it. “I’ll say, it looks evil and toxic to anyone.”

“Yea well.” Hyrule wheezes out, “It’s just best to stay away from that. I need to wash my clothes off, Lege!” He catches the veteran’s attention. “You should come with me too, we were sitting next to them for a while.”

Honestly, when it came to Legend and Hyrule, the two acted completely differently around each other. Legend is obvious, he softens up and lets his walls down around the traveler. He could catch the two talking and laughing when they thought they were alone. Mumbling silly things and making chains out of flowers. Legend, making chains of flowers! Of course Four would never bring this up, Goddess forbid he harm the ego of his most prideful teammate! Hyrule, on the other hand, is more upfront and direct, that constant anxiety of saying the right word at the right time vanishing. He’d give orders, almost, to Legend, telling him that his form was off or to move his bedroll closer to his. The surprising part is Legend listens without any backtalk! Their relationship is brotherly in the way Four saw the colors. Maybe even more so.

Sky drops the flower back behind the bush, following Legend and Hyrule. Most likely to wash his hands. Wind goes to pester Wild about cooking. Four, however, lingers to sneak a peek behind the bush. There's a whole patch of them, painted in the likeness of a symbol of death.

Toxic to fairies huh..?

Chapter Text

Hylia’s Chosen Hero usually isn't one for the early mornings, but today is apparently different. 

He wakes in a cold sweat, muscles in his right arm spasming as his brain recalls the feeling of thunder coursing through his flesh and blood. There's salty tears forming in his eyes as Demise’s words worm their way in his mind. A curse, one to doom everyone to succeed him. He wonders, if he stopped his words would they be here now? If he cut the head of that fiend before those words were uttered, could he have saved the rest of his group from their pain? Though this is not the end. My hate... never perishes.

They may not say it, but Sky can tell. He can see the way Legend struggles to move after resting and hearing his bones crack, the way he twists his wrists after a battle. the manner Time rolls his shoulders to ease a near unbearable pain, especially the night before. Warriors jumps every time a new sparring match starts, like a waking nightmare is coming back to him, a battle only barely won. Hyrule has that cut across his face that, judging by yesterday, he very much did not want brought up. Actions describe better than words ever would. And Wild… Wild is a mess. The scars that adorn their body cut across their neck. The wound seared their vocal cords and now…

Sky wonders if it's his fault.   It is born anew in a cycle with no end! I will rise again!

No, he reminds himself, it's Demise’s fault, that demon, Ganon, as the rest call him. There's nothing he can do now besides protect them here and now. 

He notices Wind and Wild whispering to each other, backs turned and facing the fire.

He forgot which one actually has third watch, but Sky assumes it must be Wild, since he's a naturally early riser as is. Those like you... 

Sky isn't totally oblivious. Sure, he's not the most social of them all but he watches, and he certainly doesn't have Zelda’s ever growing wisdom. He knows Wind sneaks off sometimes to shave the notch in his left eyebrow, even if he claims it got burnt off. He knows Legend tells Hyrule bedtime stories, but the veteran mostly does it for himself. He knows Twilight is the ‘Wolfie’ that comes around to help them, and that Time and Warriors both figured out as much too. He knows a lot about his new family. Those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero... They are eternally bound to this curse.

Are they his family? He's not sure yet, but he likes to treat them as brothers.

He lets out a labored sigh, rubbing his forehead and shifting himself forward into a sitting position. He closes his eyes tight. All this thinking so early before his tea is making his head throb. He’s going to need to ask Time for his heat pack back. Zelda please give mercy.

Through the faint ringing in his ears, Sky can catch Wind asking if he's okay. The words don't quite come through, but his brain puts it together. “I.. Yea.” Sky waves his free hand in front of him, the other still rubbing his forehead for any form of relief. “It’s a migraine. I need my tea.”

As Sky slowly opens his eyes, Wild is already digging through the chosen’s bag, fishing out the already opened packet of the bamboo tea from Skyloft. Wind is back at the fire, filling a small kettle with water from his own waterskin. Wild must have already had it out, Sky figures. The chef is always kind enough to have his favored tea ready for him every morning. He never gave it much thought before now, taking it for granted. Wild always prepared it in the same pot, the flavor becoming more and more rich each time. Over time the chef managed to find the perfect temperature and served it like that right when Sky finally woke. He didn’t even realize it was his tea he packed until just now as Wild rushes back to the fire to prepare.

What a friend Sky is.

He sits there, watching as Wind hands Wild the cast iron teapot and a kettle, both with little clouds etched on the outside. Wild loops the kettle’s handle around a stick and shoves it in the embers, right in the middle of the flames. It almost looks like the wood fuel had been shaped for this, standing over the center and keeping the heat in like a tent. As the kettle heats up, Wild oh so delicately places the teapot a few centimeters from the fire to heat it up. The lid comes off and reveals the mesh diffuser inside. Carefully measuring the dried bamboo, ground into a coarse mix of shoot and leaf, placing the perfect amount in as the kettle starts to steam and wizz. They repeat the process in reverse, carefully retrieving the kettled from the middle of the fire with a stick. Sky didn't realize until now but his left hand has a thick glove on it. An oven mitt? Wild grabs the handle of the kettle with his mitt and pour the boiling water over the diffuser and into the teapot. A sweet and complex aroma wafts around the camp, a few heroes stirring like clockwork. They let the teapot sit near the fire and look to Wind, who gets the message without any sign or sound. The sailor tiptoes over to Sky and pokes in his bag, but not too far.

“I uh.. He wants your mug. Can you get it for me?”

“Oh-” Sky exclaims before reaching in the back corner of his bag where he keeps his dishes. With a simple motion that stirs his brain into a dizzying vertigo he produces a very simple mug. With a base of white, to a gradient of a sky blue near the top. “-Here.”

Wind takes the mug and tiptoes back to Wild, who pours the sweet nectar of his favorite drink to ever be produced by Hyliankind. Placing the teapot back by the fire, Wild walks over with his mug, now filled with tea, and kneels next to Sky. He never really interacted much with Wild, at least not this closely. Their scarred hand takes his, carefully curling his fingers around the mug. The feeling of those ridges on the back of his hand is only there for a moment, but Sky commits it to memory, a reason to continue to fight for him. Wild holds the bottom of the mug until Sky lifts it to his lips. Giving a gentle blow while soaking in the scent of a dawn at home. An incarnation of my hatred shall ever follow your kind, dooming them to wander a blood-soaked sea of darkness for all time!

“I swear to the Goddess Wild if you brew that shit any earlier I’ll personally find a way to send you back to your own time.” Legend groans, sitting up from his place besides Hyrule, accidentally waking the traveler up as well in the process. Twilight and Time both find themselves sitting as well, perhaps deciding the commotion means it's time to wake up. Four is… still asleep. Warriors, however, is getting up too, more awake than the rest. 

“Legend, so help me, you complain every morning about the smell of tea.” he mutters, rather loudly, casting a glance that silences the veteran. 

Twilight is the next to voice his opinions. “While I have a distaste for the smell too, at least I'm not rudely wakin’ the others.”

“Oh please, we all end up waking up with the smell anyways. It will attract monsters one day!” Legend raises his voice.

“Boys. Quit it.” Time jutts in, to no avail. The sounds of bickering worsen the stabbing pain in Sky’s head. Thankfully Wild seems to notice as they start signing.

Nothing.

They tried again,

And again,

Until… 

CLAP! A thunderous sound echoes in the trees. If monsters didn't know where they were from the tea, now they do. All attention turns to Wild. “Sky has a migraine. Quiet.”

Actions speak louder than words, huh.

All bickering stops, and any movement is relatively quiet. His brothers start quickly packing their things, as they too must realize the danger after all that noise. Wild starts a dish called oatmeal, quick and easy.

And Sky finally gets to enjoy his tea.

—

His head still hurts As they continue their hike to Castle Town. His brothers are silently walking along, carefully listening and minding his headache. The tea helped, of course, but it's still there, the pressure pushing on his skull from the inside.

They travel slowly, accounting for sores and lingering pains. Time opted to go without his chestplate for the walk due to his back. Legend is limping slightly on his right. Wind often lifts his feet up and adjusts his shoes, blisters probably cover his feet.

It's been around an hour since they broke camp, and for the last fifteen minutes something has been wrong in these woods. Sky doesn’t have much experience with the surface, but he knows forests aren't supposed to be this quiet. Five months is more than enough time to pick that up. The others have noticed too, Wild isn't off trail, Wind is quiet. Everyone has shields on their arms and twitchy fingers. Prepared.

And as they should. But not prepared enough for an arrow from seemingly far off cuts the air past Twilight and straight into Time’s side. He doubles over as swords are drawn, Wild and Twi both taking defense on either side of Time. Behind Sky there's a rustling quickly followed by a sword rushing to his direction. He raises his shield, metal clashing reviving the pressure in his head as he counters with a slash to his side. But the moblin is fast, too fast. It dodges to the side and prepares a stab which Sky narrowly avoids. Around him Four is yelling for Hyrule, who is getting grabbed and pulled away, Twilight is keeping three moblins at bay while Wild is performing first aid, the distraction earning him an arrow in his lower back. Wars is attempting to make his way to the trio but getting stopped by the seemingly never ending flow of new beasts blocking his path. Wind is holding his own with Legend, both maneuvering excellently and using all at their disposal. Sky has to protect them.

A sure slash finds the foe in front of him dispersing into smoke and blackened blood, Sky turns on his heels with a rage in his eyes that burns, a need, a desire to slay those who hurt his brothers, all of them. Kill them all. He raises his sword to the sky, gaining a blessed glow before swinging down. The power flies across the battlefield and cuts five down before him. Blood and smoke remains, but that matters not. He rushes forward, slicing the back of another moblin before bringing the momentum around and stabbing it in the back. Blood splatter on his face, but that's fine. It's fine. Everyone will be fine. Body after body disperses, a lapse in judgment, but he's getting closer to Time, to Twilight, to Wild and Warriors. Everything before him is slow and slightly blurred, a burning in his hand. Again, he points his sword skyward, a slash murdering the last of the monsters between him and injured brothers. He steps forward, closing the distance between him and his goal. But Twilight puts himself between him and the others.

“Sky, I need ya to calm down.” a hand on his shoulder.

“I am calm.” It’s swatted away.

“You nearly cut Legend’s arm off!” 

“What..?”

Sky looks over to where Wind and Legend are killing the last of the swarm, one more shook than the other. There's a line in the grass, scarily close to where Legend stands.

“I- I didn't mean to-” his head is throbbing

“What the FUCK Sky?!” Legend stomps over, screaming at him. Twilight winces before repositioning himself between him and Sky. “Twi, you better let me land a solid blow to this moron’s gut!”

“Legend, it was an accident. Heat of the battle.”

A pause.

“Pray tell, did you see the look on his face?” Legend points at Sky. “He looked like the stuff of nightmares!”

Twilight just stops. Everything is quiet again, gazes of those not attending to the wounded are all on Sky now. He shrivels under the pressure.

But nobody denies the claim. Actions speak louder than words.

Sky brings fingers to brush delicately on his face, the oily blood on his cheek smears under his fingertips. Twilight yanks Legend’s mirror shield from its owner and directs it in front of Sky.

His eyes are wide with a face of anger and rage. Blood in his hair, on his face, dripping down his chin. In the reflection he softens, realizing that he turned into something that's not right. Not him.

“I didn't realize..” Sky whispers

“We know you didn’t, but seriously, what triggered that.” Legend questions, motioning to the battlefield.

Swords and shields on the ground, two streaks burned into the grass, blood soiled earth and stone alike. Enough for twenty monster bodies claimed him alone. And he did it looking like that. He looks back over to Wind, who's carefully inching his way to Wild. Time doesn’t make eye contact, and Legend is just… glaring.

They're only right to be afraid of him after that.

Warriors is the next to speak. “For now we need Hyrule to help with the injured, I think Four is the only one with a fairy left. Traveler?”

No response.

Legend looks around. “Wait, Where are they?”

Chapter Text

“Well, Link, my journey with you was exciting, to say the least. In fact, I’m… more than just a little sad that we must part ways now.”

Two items filled with a power that became familiar to Link hovered before him as the great mage held his vining wooden staff high. One item, a cap with that signature green of the cursed form the mage himself used to take. The other item is more peculiar. A hair tie woven with a tight fiber of unknown origins. Looped on said hair tie is a feather shaped pendant. Upon closer inspection, Link noticed engraved in the pendant are symbols that he doesn't quite recognize, ones filled with power and magic.

“Please, accept these…”

Both of these, for him. A goodbye gift Link can not repay. A wave of guilt washed over the hero while tears welled in his eyes as he put on the green cap.

“Heh… You know, I’ve never actually seen you wearing a cap until now. It suits you, little hero.”

Ezlo and him shared a chuckle, attempting to stave off the feeling of a bittersweet farewell for just a while longer. They stare for a few seconds, speaking the same language of silence Link seemed to somehow teach the old minish through their quest together. They both share an expression of longing and sorrow, it being known they may well never see eachother again, not in this lifetime. Magic surrounded Ezlo as he returned to his original size and turned to the Minish Door.

Link was never one for goodbyes, but he has to part with the minish who helped him through this journey.

“Farewell. My good friend.”

—

Four is stuck between two options, stay with the group or help Hyrule.

As soon as Time goes down, the attention of the heroes is drawn to him. Twilight and Wild protect the old geezer, Sky and Warriors get into their own mob to slay, and Legend and Wind are separated on their own. But Four has another focus, Hyrule. Right as the battle starts there’s three moblins right on his back, using the sudden commotion to their advantage to restrain him.

This isn't right. They’re too organized.

And they want Hyrule.

They want him alive.

Four knows he has to go after Hyrule, but there's a hesitation. Staying with the group is safer. What if he leaves and someone dies, all because he left with the last fairy out of everyone. Hyrule is disappearing fast into the foliage and there's so many monsters swarming the others. Din, he doesn't have time to decide, he just has to go. Dirt and grass kicks into the air as Four takes off after Hyrule.

He can’t catch up fast enough. He can see the movement ahead and knows he's on the right track, the flashes of red from the poncho Hyrule fawns over, but he can't get closer. It’s almost like he's not fighting back, is he having another episode? Twigs and branches snap at Four’s arms breaking skin. A thousand cuts from the land he swore to protect, but he wont let that hold him back. With his prismatic sword he cuts ahead through the forest, following trampled grasses. There's a grunt from his left just before a Moblin charges and jumps at the smithy, who reacts in kind by blocking the bulk of its body with his shield flipping it onto the trunk of the tree behind him headfirst. There's no time to finish it, he has to get to Hyrule, before they do whatever they plan with him.

It’s so dark in the woods, despite the sun at its midday peak, it's just so dark. The canopy, it’s thick, but not thick enough to cause everything to be in shadows. Four trips over a root jutting from the ground before regaining balance. Is he losing the trail? No, he can still hear them, loud and obnoxious, laughing from just beyond the brush. With confidence and courage Four moves up into a sprint, barely spending time to recognize the red eyes peering at him between the trees as he breaks into the light.

There, in the clearing where light suddenly decides to exist again, trees in a circle cut off by a cliff face and a suspiciously familiar portal oozing dark magic, Hyrule restrained with chains and gagged with cloth. Makeshift rope shackles are tied around his ankles, only allowing enough movement for small steps. Tears form in Hyrule's eyes and drip down his cheeks as the traveler is finally regaining the will to fight.

One of the moblins in front of Hyrule is pointing a knife to his neck threateningly as the hylian backs up from the knife closer to the portal before… It closes. The moblins, as shocked as Four, frantically look around before latching their sight onto the smith.  The aforementioned knife is now pointed at him as a monstrous war cry sounds and it lunges at him. A parry with his sword and a bash of his shield quickly staggers the Moblin as Four is allowed to land a decisive blow to its chest, killing it instantly. It’s dagger clatters to the earth below, But there's no time to reassess the battlefield before both of the moblins that were restraining Hyrule come rushing in unison pulling their respective weapons. 

Four dodges the jab from a crude spear but is too slow to avoid a cut to the elbow from the other’s sword. He hisses at the deep wound as it stretches and tears open as he repositions himself away from the two enemies. Warm blood drops down his arm and onto his arm guards. They managed to target the specific weakness in his armor with such ease, shit. Just as he is about to go back into the fight when Hyrule, who is attempting to undo his ankle restraints, screams Four’s name. Before he can react, arms reach up from behind him and over his shoulders, picking the small hylian of the ground kicking and screaming. 

He twists his wrist and jabs at the Moblin captor’s side letting out a stream of blackened blood. He knew this one would come back for more, Din damnit. Dropping to his feet Four turns and cuts cleanly through the moblin’s head, smoke puffing in the air and weapons dropping. There's a moment of reprieve before he lurches forward, pausing for a moment with wide eyes. A monstrous laugh and cries of fear pierce the newfound ringing in his ears as the smith looks down at the new feeling of warmth flooding in his stomach. A spear, crude and uneven with a coating of some substance, straight through his armor. [o]

Four knows that in terms of armor making, he's still a novice, but this platemail, and his chain, are still his pride and joy, and got him this far.

And a Moblin casually stabbed through it.

The spear retracts and Four turns around, forcing his eyelids to stay open as they grow heavy as steel. Hyrule is strangling the sword wielder with his electrified chain shackles, a rage in his eyes. The spear wielder takes a stab and takes a notch out of Hyrule’s thigh. In response, the traveler drops the deep fried sword holder dead on the ground, sweeping a low kick and dodging a spear strike, tripping the Moblin down before slamming his chain down and caving its head in. Four saw it all, vision slowly fading, until right before Hyrule stumbles and collapses with a pale face, the last thing he sees before he blacks out is the narrow, inescapable gaze of himself. Unfamiliar and cold, a distinct lack of color and hue.

It's so dark, so cold. The warmth that once swelled in his chest fading fast from the gaping hole in his chest. Four swears this is it. He’s dead. That’s it, game over. So he waits. He waits until the squeaking of a cork slowly comes from a bottle, and the chiming of a fairy rings around him. Light and warmth swell into him like a blessing from Hylia herself. Newfound energy and strength return to him as winged light returns to the sky above him.

He gasps and his eyes shoot open, reaching his hand to his chest. Metal curls around the hole in the metal made by the spear, proof alongside the pool of his own blood that it wasn't a dream. But Four still pinches his cheek just in case. A sting of pain, good. Violets and blues refracts and reflects in his eyes as he assesses the fight. Threats have been annihilated. His sight lands on Hyrule, breaths heavy and skin paling into a stark white. There's a swirl of red in Four’s grey eyes. He kicks to his feet, standing only for a moment just to get to his fallen comrade. He shakes him, 

“Hyrule, Hyrule please stay with me Rulie!”

He responds with a pained groan, lifting his hand a bit before losing strength, letting it fall back into its spot in the bloody soil. Four remembers the last semi lucid segment of the fight, finding the cut in baggy black pants. There's only dottings of blood, but he has to check the wound. With a firm grip on either side of the tear, the smith rips the pants open further to reveal a small cut, with even smaller beads of blood dotting the surface. This alone shouldn't leave anyone in Hyrule’s condition, but there's a discoloration around the edges. A darkened purple hue leaking into his veins. Four turns, landing eyes on a nearby dagger. It's coated in a similar color substance.

It's the same color as that flower. The one poisonous to fairies. But… Hyrule isn't..? Right?

Four is distracted by a soft tap of knuckles on his arm plate, Hyrule, holding something in his shaking, cold hand, is muttering something too quiet for the smith to hear, so he leans in close.

“-trust.. Me.”

“Wait, what are you?-”

Hyrule oh so gently places an item in Four’s hand. A roll of bandages, one small enough for first aid on a minish. But, before he can even process the implications, there's a bright glow from the traveler. Ribbons of light engulf Hyrule, wrapping tightly around his form like a cocoon, shrinking down within a moment. It doesn't last long, being almost instantaneous. Left in the wake of the spell is a fairy, glowing a bright pink. Four stalls for a moment, squinting his eyes to see past the dimming light, confirming to himself it is indeed Hyrule there, and not some random fairy that traded spots with the Hyrule. The smithy delicately picks him up, careful to not damage the fragile wings of his friend’s new form.

A roar echoes from the treeline. A feral, monstrous, ear piercing, blood curdling roar. Keese emerge in the sky above the canopy from down wind, thunderous rampages sound in the forest.

Four can’t be entirely sure what in Nayru’s name is going on, but he knows he needs to run. So he does. He turns the opposite way, away from the oncoming horde that seems to know his location, away from the group of heroes who may or may not be coming to save them, who could save Hyrule from this poison. He has to keep running. He holds Hyrule closely against his chest, firm yet careful. Four can almost feel the fairy’s life draining away, ticking down like a meter to his death. He never knew the traveler had spells like that. Harnessing thunder, or transformation. Or maybe, this is his true form? The thoughts bounce across his unified mind as he leaps over roots and ducks under branches. He has to find a spot that no enemy can reach. One where he can hide them both, using minish and fairy height. An animal den, perhaps? No, they could dig them out, or be eaten alive by its inhabitants. that would be a death trap. It has to be a cliff face, maybe one with cracks just small enough for them. Four recalls the one at the back of that clearing and makes a turn to his right, not too sharp as to give the very loud encroaching horde a way to close the distance, but just enough to hopefully find the cliff in his path.

And Four does find that cliff. The rocky outcropping directing his path back left. Sprinting and searching is a lot harder than he prefers it to be, especially with the amount of fear screaming in the back of his mind. But his life, Hyrule’s life, demands that he finds somewhere to hide, here, now. Survival rests on his eyes and his eyes alone. Thankfully, Goddesses bless, they don't fail him. skidding to a stop and just at his feet a vertical gap that's just big enough to fit himself in once he's shrunk down. The sounds of the mob inch closer and closer. Four kneels down, pressing his face to the mixture of gravel and dirt to look inside. It seems deep enough to get some proper shelter. Getting back up, Four steals his mind for the disorientation that always comes with the intense shift in point of view. He grabs the pendant holding his hair in a high bun and rips the tie out, letting light blonde hair fall to down his shoulders. The gold melts into his hand and his view changes around him swiftly.

Four’s ’transformation’ isn’t flashy like Hyrule's. Sure, there's a flash of light, but that's about it. As soon as it starts it's done, and the grass suddenly towers over him.

With the change in his size, Four finds Hyrule nearly pushing him over with his body weight as he's now proportionally the same size as him. A part of him is thankful Hyrule was able to turn into a fairy before passing out, because carrying him while being the same size is tough, especially with the ground shaking with the horde’s oncoming stomping The traveler's feet drag in the dirt as Four hauls him step by step into the now seemingly gaping cave opening. Four is swift to escape to the very back of the cave with Hyrule in tow. Carefully the smith lays his friend down on the floor, perching his head up with a relatively flat pebble. Just as he’s about to go investigate the progression of the poison as a clawed finger suddenly reaches into the gap. Whatever it’s attached too is determined to scoop them out, thrashing and clawing at the walls, scraping its own skin in the process. Four pushes his back against the wall, fear causing his heart to jump into his throat. His hands go to cover his ears as sharp claws grind and chip against hard stone. The sound is awful, shaking his entire body making Four keel over onto his knees to hold back the nauseating feeling it gives.

The monster continued for so, so long. Minutes stretch to hours. Finally, after breaking its own skin and drawing blood that covers the walls of the crack in the wall, the monster stops. Deciding it’s not getting any further. It retracts its hand, not even looking inside before heavy steps shake the ground as it leaves.

Four lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, rubbing his hands together and fiddling with his thumbs to let out some stress. It feels good to let fresh air fill his lungs. What was that thing? It didn’t even look inside the cave, how did it know they were there? All those monsters… or at least as many as he heard, which was a lot. He brings a shaking hand to his face, stretching the skin as he slides it down. There’s so much anxiety, fear, from what just happened. What even just happened anyways.

A soft groan brings Four out of the discussion forming in his head. He looks over to the still unconscious fairy boy, the one who he went to save but ultimately saved him. The traveler’s chest rises and falls in quick succession and his complexion is paleing. Din damn him, he still needs to perform triage. Four quickly kneels next to him, inspecting the cut on his leg. It’s already scabbed over, but the poison, it’s clear that it’s making its way through Hyrule’s body. He needs to flush the toxins out. He looks at the bandages Hyrule gave him before, deciding to at least use them and wrap his leg anyways before continuing.

Four reaches back, unlatching the buckle on his magic pouch and reaches for his waterskin. Uncapping the lid he reaches under Hyrule’s head and lifts him up so his lips touch the rim of the waterskin. Four ever so slowly pours the lukewarm water into the traveler’s mouth and watches him swallow. Good, Four thinks, he’s still able to take in liquid. After repeating a few times the smith recaps his waterskin and grabs Hyrule’s pouch to poke around for a green potion. He knows the fairy boy regularly keeps them on him, and now it's clear why. Thankfully, there’s quite a few full bottles of the magic rejuvenation potions. He takes one and uncorks it, resuming the process from moments ago with the syrupy liquid. Hyrule takes it well, but the poison is still very clearly draining him.

Four has no medicine for poisonings on him, no red potions, just water and green potions from Hyrule’s stash. Now, he knows how to make medicine from the royal doctor. Four has tried to eat a few too many colorful mushrooms not to have been told how to ‘make it yourself next time’. Dandelion, curdock, cleavers, plenty of water, and waiting for your liver to do the work. He’s gonna have to find somewhere to refill on water soon anyways, so he can forage then.

But.

That means leaving Hyrule alone.

Chapter Text

Legend looks around. “Wait, Where are they?”

There's a moment of silence. Eyes dart across the path the prior battle took place on. Of course, neither Four nor Hyrule are seen, and each hero is reacting differently with the realization.

Wild closes their eyes, grabbing a fistfull of their own hair and tugging slightly. Twilight’s shoulders tense up, the fur on his pelt spiked up like an angry wolf. Wind is pacing, getting faster and faster with each turn. Legend starts to march in a random direction, mumbling rather loudly about how they shouldn't just stand here and wait. Sky grabs the veteran’s arm and pulls him back. Before an argument breaks out, Time stops them with a swift yet stern ‘boys’.

And Warriors himself just spaces out.

In his mind he sees the events of him and Zelda getting whisked away by Cia. Soon that real event morphs into something worse as the anxiety churns it into the two missing heros being tormented, tortured. And here he is, spacing out, unable to move or feel.

Is this what Hyrule felt like on the trail yesterday..? And before that? Did he go through this sort of thing often by himself? Watching himself from somewhere he can't describe as those around him figure out a plan? Sky is right in front of him but he seems so far away. He sees his mouth moving but there's no clear sound. What is this?

People and places move around him. Snapshots of movement blur into each other. The forest path twisting and morphing into a desolate land that was once a lush forest before a war broke and turned it into an ashy battlefield. Sounds of an infantry giving its reports to the commanding captain about missing soldiers. The captain is swift to form a search and rescue team. Warriors watches as time shifts like desert sands, soldiers come and go, but the captain remains stationary, leaning over battle plans in a tent hastily set up after a victory.

The captain is lost in his mind, until a sheika makes her way into the tent. A conversation is had, yet the words are unheard, unremembered. The delicate hand of a warrior made its way onto the captain’s shoulder, grounding him in reality. The sheika offers a nod, welcoming him to the outside world.

He accepts.

But now Warriors doesn’t have Impa. He doesn’t have that trusted advisor. His brain is foggy and he can’t clear it. Just force your way through, he thinks. You have to, Link. So he does. He takes a step forward, forcing that brave face all his comrades know well to cover his thoughts and takes charge, just like he's supposed to, like he's destined to.

“Twilight, make count of everyone’s injuries,” Warriors commands, finally remembering how to use his own vocal cords, “Sky, Legend, find somewhere to settle down for now.” He points at the two who were previously squabbling. The rational part of him knows putting those two together right now is an awful idea, but nerves are winning the fight in his head as he kneels down next to Wild and Time. 

His eyes scan the site of the arrow wound. It’s lodged in there good, right next to a few vital organs. A scoff exits the captain’s lips as he ruffles through his pack

“Yaknow, you old geezer, you're lucky to be alive.”

Time responds with a deep chuckle of his own. “It doesn't feel like it, but I'm sure time heals all wounds.”

There's an echoing groan from behind Warriors, but he and Wild just offer a smile in return for the awful pun. “At least you're in good enough condition to jest.”

A wave of contentment washes over Warriors. Sure, his comrade in arms still has an arrow lodged in him, but the sense of familiar kinship is grounding, if only for a moment.

“Wild, do you know how to pack a wound?”

The silence between the Hero of Sky and Hero of Legend is deafening.

As commanded by Warriors, Sky and Legend are looking for somewhere to settle down for the day. Sure, the skyloftian understands that searching for their missing pair is important, and would much rather being doing that. But, thinking back to whatever happened to him in that fight, and Time’s conditions without any healing remedies, it makes sense to recuperate instead of instantly setting out.

Legend, on the other hand, seems to disagree. Not verbally, of course. His shoulders are arched and his head is on a swivel. He seems to be looking for Four and Hyrule instead of somewhere to rest. Sky reaches a hand out to the veteran as he's turned away from him, but ultimately retracts it back to his side. 

“Hey, we can look for them later, okay?” Sky says in a soothing tone, like talking to a woodland creature on the surface. “It's better if we're all in top shape and all look together.”

Legend stops, letting out a half sigh half groan Before turning his piercing gaze to Sky. “I know that,” he spits, “I am not a moron. But I'm not letting Rue be alone with that feind around.”

“That.. What?” Sky sputters. “What fiend, and Four’s with him right? They should be able to handle it!”

“That's the problem, bird brain!” Legend sweeps his arms out in front of him dramatically. “Four is with him, there's no way you of all people haven't noticed.”

Legend’s eyes stare through Sky expectantly. Noticed? Noticed what? Four has been nothing but good to all of them. The chosen blinks a few times, trying to process the accusation. “Im.. Not sure what you're talking about?”

Legend pinches the bridge of his nose as his brow furrows. “So you don't know then…” he closes his eyes and tilts his head to the side. “Something’s been following us, Wind specifically.” The veteran crosses his arms, hesitating. “Both me and Hyrule could feel it there. Four noticed it too, but seemed content with it stalking us.”

Sky is in awe of the accusation to one of their own. “Are you saying Four is in league with this… shadow?”

“I can’t be certain.” Legend shakes his head. “All I know is there's a chance, and it's quite peculiar that only Four and Hyrule are missing.”

Sky opens his mouth to retort, to say that Legend is wrong for accusing their friend, their brother, but the veteran brings up a good point. It gets Sky thinking.

“Let’s hold off on accusations for now.” the chosen turns and starts searching for a resting place again, preferably one without needing to cut down more beautiful foliage. That was awful to watch. “I.. Don't want to point blame without everyone here.”

Sky does not see Legend nod, but can assume by the somewhat reluctant yet positive hum and rustling of bushes behind him that he agrees. The uneasy air between them lingers, however, despite this as they continue their search. 

Pushing past the underbrush, the two finally reach a decently sized clearing. Big enough to settle down for a while, but small enough to be cramped. Legend breaks through the brush behind Sky and starts to perform an investigation of sorts. Sky himself steps into the center of the clearing, unable to fully shift his focus from what the veteran revealed to him.

Some sort of creature that lurks in peoples shadows. Sky considers the options of what that could be. Clearly it must be of magical nature, maybe something incorporeal. Has he encountered something like this before? Sky racks his brain. Koloktos had been possessed by some form of dark energy, is it like that? No, no, that may not be the same. Ghirahim isn’t around to make that kind of magic, right?

“Don’t bother thinking too hard about it right now.” Legend starts, sitting himself down against the trunk of a tree. He begins to rub his knees as he continues, “I can’t say I’ve run into anything like it either. Only in a weird dream I had once. I have a lot of weird dreams.” The veteran chuckles at that last statement, but wears an expression of guilt and loss.

Sky takes a few light steps over to Legend, treading carefully as not to awaken a frightful beast. He finds himself sitting just a pace away from the hero. “You’re being really open to me-” Sky raises his hands in defense- “-Not like I’m saying that's bad! I just, you're usually more prickly than this.”

Legend thinks for a moment, nodding slightly in agreement. “I suppose you're right.” He sighs. “It’s not like… I don't want-” Legend gives up forming his emotions into a sentence and scratches his head, ruffling his hair in the process. “I do care.. About you guys.” he finally mumbles out.

Warmth fills Sky’s heart, sending a wave of pride for the veteran through his body. A bright smile forces its way upon the skyloftian’s face as he blinks past tears. “I care about you too, Lege”

“Don't call me that” Legend snarks

Sky scoffs lightheartedly, “Alright, alright, Legend.”

Legend rolls his eyes, slowly getting his legs back under him. “We should get the others now. We've kept them waiting long enough.”

Sky gets up too, must faster than Legend. He offers a hand to his brother. Legend takes some time to look up at Sky and back down at his hand before accepting. He pulls him up, both sharing a smile before starting their walk back to guide the group to the new campsite.

“I’m still mad at you for almost cutting my arm off.”

“Yea, that’s fair.”

“What do you mean somethings been following me?!” Wind yells, getting up from his spot on the ground and whirling around to see his afternoon shadow. “Is it there now??”

“No.” Legend responds sharply. “It hasn't been around since after we lost Four and Rue. That's why I brought it up.”

“How long has it been following us?” Time taps his finger with the seconds passing. 

“Since on the trail yesterday. But that's just when I first noticed it”

Wars combs his hair back with his fingers. This is a lot of new information to process. Could it have listened to conversations? Just the thought of some sort of unseen spy is giving him a headache.

Legend is sifting through a box of rings next to a bandaged Time, pulling one out a seemingly normal golden one and giving it to the old man with a soft ‘here’ before closing the box. Wind is rightfully stressing out as Sky rubs his back conformingly. Wild is holding Wind’s hand, which is gripped around the chef’s forearm. Twilight sits next to Warriors, looking at him with concern.

And of course, Four and Hyrule are missing.

“We need to find Hyrule and Four as soon as possible. We don’t know the full extent of our enemy.” Warriors states, a scowl forming on his face as he initiates a strategy meeting.

“Actually, we might.” Time starts up, putting the ring Legend gave him on his pointer finger. His shoulders relax as the ring slides into place. “I’ve fought my own shadow before. It mimics you in combat, and takes advantage of your weaknesses.”

“I suppose I've seen something similar myself…” Warriors starts. “Though I'm not sure if it was my own shadow or a creation of dark magiks”

“If we need to find them, I can track them.” Twilight states. “But I’ll need t’ go now. Before the trail dies off n’ all.”

Warriors nods. “Alright, but you need to take someone with you. I don't want anyone alone.”

“I-” Twilight looks around sheepishly. “-I usually work better alone.”

Warriors narrows his eyes. “I don't care. It's better safe than sorry, Twilight.”

The ranch hand resigns his rebuttal, getting up and placing a hand on Wild’s shoulder and nodding off into the woods. Wild nods back, patting Wind’s hand to let go and follows him.

Warriors can only hope nothing else goes wrong.

Chapter Text

Chapter Art


Oh dearest grasslands that stand taller than him, it's been forever.

Four can't help but unleash a certain sense of whimsy as he briskly walks through the blades of grass in search of some very specific medicinal plants. The rational part of him knows they may not appear in this version of Hyrule, but the hopeful part says they have to. There is no other option. Hyrule needs them to be here.

Blades of grass tower over him and clovers blot out the afternoon sun. it's wonderful, serene, but with a lack of Minish. How sad! Where could they be? Probably not around here, or in hiding. War is a pretty rough thing for all creatures, even the small and minute. Or maybe they just went back to the Minish realm. All of them? There's a chance. 

A sigh leaves Four’s lips as he pushes past the stem of a flower.

A few paces later, he finds himself tracing over the hole in his armor. The hole in his armor. In the middle of his full plate armor. Through chainmail , too. How did that happen? That Moblin had the strength to pierce right through like butter! He almost died.

He almost died .

First, the black blood. Strange enough as is, Four thinks. But, they couldn't land hits through armor like that . Just thinking about the situation he can still feel the rugged stone pulling apart his insides. He shudders.

Three Goddesses, he needs to let the others know, as soon as possible.

But Hyrule is first. Four still hasn't seen anything that could be useful, not even dandelions, which is often which people often consider as a common weed. He’s seen them in other Hyrules aplenty, but where is it? Should he just take his chances that monsters are still around and return to his normal size? No. No no. That's too risky.

He parts two blades of grass into a pseudo clearing, really just a patch of dirt that seems to be traveled often by small animals. In the middle, woven into… a mess of knots, lays a clump of grasses. That's strange, he didn’t know anyone else was around when they were hiking, and this had to have been recent because these are still freshly picked. There's no withering on any of the leaves.

Four steps forward to investigate further, finally clocking that these aren't just any grasses, these are the medicinal herbs that Four has been searching for! Dandelions, burdock, everything! All here, nicely put out.

Is this a trap?  

That matters not now, he needs to retrieve them and return to Hyrule, fast! He starts ripping at the leaves and tucking the shredded portions in his bag, filling it up as much as he can. Fast, be fast! Once his pack is overflowing with the stuff, he grabs another fistful of the herbs and runs, sprints back to the cave. He has to be fast!

Four arrives back at the cave. It's dark inside, but thankfully enough light trickles in to give Four a sense of direction. He can see Hyrule’s body, and that's all that matters.

He’s so pale…

He sits down next to the fairy, half blindly reaching around and grabbing some rocks. He's going to need something to replace a mortar and pestle. One of the rocks is flatter than the other, so he set that on the ground with the plan to use it as a plate of sorts.

Removing a handful of the herbs, he starts rolling the smaller, rounder rock on top of them until it becomes a pasty texture. Now how is he gonna get Hyrule to eat this… he could try to mix it with water?

Four grabs Hyrule’s waterskin and slides the herbal mixture in. Then he shakes it around violently, quickly, in order to get some mixing going before uncapping and tipping it to the fairy’s lips. 

Come on.. Please drink it.

Slowly, carefully, Four pours the herbally enhanced water into Hyrule’s mouth, letting it trickle in at first, then pulling back. There's a heavy sigh of relief that echoes off the cave walls as Four can barely pick up the sight of Hyrule swallowing.

He needs to drink more .

Rinse and repeat.

Again and again.

Finally, color is starting to return to Hyrule’s skin. But there's still work to be done.

This… is going to take a while.

But Hyrule is going to live.

Honestly, if they have to walk alone with anyone, they prefer it to be Twilight.

Wild doesn’t dislike the others, they have fun with them on occasion, but they need to remain distant, just in case. They know what happens to those around Link, around him.

They get hurt . They leave . They disappear .

And then they're alone .

But for now, they aren’t, and to keep it that way they have to stay away. Close themself off. If they approach them and ask for more, they will push them back. If they continue, they will fight.

But.. Sky likes their tea. And Wind’s stories are fun.

No. Keep them away .

They died because they trusted Link. and now, they trust Wild. why? He looks in front of him at the Hylian turned wolf. Twilight shared so easily, there's so much trust in him, why? Maybe it doesn't matter to Twilight, but that's not the case. He’s always so elusive about the amulet he uses to transform, or whenever Wolfie comes around and he's questioned on it. Why?

Stop it, don’t trust me.

A clearing, covered in blood and weapons. Something happened here. Black and red slick covers the grass. Maybe it's Hyrule and Four, but they guess Twilight's going to find out. He’s already sniffing the blood, picking up the scent. Must stink.

It doesn't take long for Twilight to start running off in a direction, passing through already collapsed foliage. Wild themselves is quick to follow after.

It’s strange, there's no trails of blood, black or red, but there are clear signs of a chase. A big one. At some points, a few too many to feel comfortable, entire trees are knocked over seemingly in a rage to get whoever they were chasing, assumingly Four and Hyrule.

Why do they bother..? Those two are strong.

But despite this, Twilight in the form of Wolfie just keeps running. Further and farther into the woods until there is a slight deviation in direction. Why? Wild doesn’t understand. Why are they being chased so far and so aggressively? Strange.

Suddenly, another change of course as a cliff face comes into view. They run along the almost sheer surface as Wild considers what view might await them at the top. Maybe, just maybe, they can see. But these heroes don't let them go off and explore, they contain them. It's annoying.

“Can I call you Wild?” the teen asks.

Before Wild is allowed to mentally bemoan their predicament more, Twilight stops. He sniffs the grassy terrain with rapid in and out breaths. moments later, the trail leads him to a crack in the cliff face. Twilight steps back, darkened misshapen particles that seem to suck the light out of the air disperse from his Wolf appearance as he morphs back to his own form.

He kneels down and looks inside the crack. There's a sound.. talking of some sort, but way too high pitched and ringy for Wild to understand. After a moment, some small, way too small honestly, creature walks out from the crack as Twilight moves from its path.

Wild stares on from the treeline, paces away from the scene. The creature seems to flash, if only for a moment, and grow rapidly. It’s Four. How was he so small, and why does Twilight seem so surprised. He can turn into a wolf, surely the smallest of their group can shrink.

The two of them share words, Four holding something, someone, in his hands. Wild squints, realizing it’s a fairy. He says it’s Hyrule, and Twilight looks more shocked.

“So, wait. Yuh can be tiney? ..an’ so can Hyrule? Goddesses Damn y’all.”

The trees sway in the wind, much more interesting than this discussion. The sound of wind finding its way through branches with that rustling sound Wild is so fond of. It’s the sound of home. Where are the birds?

“Yea, it was pretty useful. Never would have made it out of that mob carrying him at full size.

A mob? That explains the amount of damage on the way here. Where is it here anyway? Wild almost, on instinct, reaches for his slate to pull up the map. Tsk, no use. It doesn’t work here. Just that numbing static.

“That's sorta practical. What in tarnation even happened exactly?” 

“The monsters found out about that flower yesterday. Their weapons were laced with it.”

There's so much Wild wants to know. So much they need to know, yearns to know. But they’re stuck here waiting for these two to Farore damn finish fucking talking .

“Shoot.. then, how'dthe monsters know about Hyrule bein’ a fairy then?”

“I don't know. That's my concern.”

Link could talk, why didn’t they? Why didnt Link fucking talk when he could. He could have asked why Revali was a prick, or tell Zelda she does matter. 

Whatever, now they're doing something they can do, walk. Walk back through the forest back to the rest of the group. A group of heroes that chain him down. Why did they jump in the portal..? 

“Legend.. he brought up somethin’ that was wa’chin’ us. From the tike’s shadow.”

“-Tike? ..oh yeah, The Sailor?-” Four mused.

“-an’e knows ya saw it too…”

Twilight and Four, who's still carrying a small unconscious fairy Hyrule, stop. Are we back to talking again? Not like Wild can complain…

“I did.” Four says with a sigh. “I.. used to have someone who traveled with me like that.”

“Aw yea?” Twilight offers a smile in return as they start walking. “Same over’ere.”

Four gives a baffled expression. “There’s no way!”

“Way.” the wolf man responds.

They just keep going .

And Wild ignores it.

Chapter Text

“You didn’t do your job of keeping them still.” The taller one remarks, cold and harsh. A darkness drips from his form and he adjusts his hair over his left eye, the smaller, more nervous figure shuffles in place.

“I.. There were 8 of them and there's only one of me, I-”

“Silence!” the taller one screams. The smaller shadow tenses up, eyes filling with dread and expectation of an action that never comes.

The taller one’s lips turn up in a smirk, that scar across his right cheek bending as they do. “It’s quite alright. Maybe it’s best we leave them, hmm, Shadow, friend..?”

Shadow trembles, his form rippling in waves. His eyes stare directly at the project in his hands, uncoordinated fearful fingers attempting to weave together a braid, just like his Vivi taught him. His voice catches in his throat. He can’t speak, he’s too afraid, but if he doesn't he- he’ll-

A tether tightens around his left wrist, intertwining between his fingers like a snake of malice. Shadow is yanked, hard, painfully as he drops his pet project. Punished for not speaking when spoken to, for disobeying. Please, he wants to wail, please don’t kill me…

The taller figure raises the shackle of malice over his head, dragging Shadow’s limp legs off the ground. It hurts.. A hand brushes up against his cheek, claws just barely running across his skin, just enough to remind him that those very claws have hurt him before, too.

“Respond.”

“Yes, Dark.”

Shadow is thrown to the ground, the impact knocking the air out of his metaphorical lungs. He gets an elbow under him, but only for a moment as a boot kicks his stomach in and hurls him into the base of a nearby tree.

Help me. Please.. Green.. Blue-

“Yes what, Shadow?” Dark barks at him, coming closer.

I’m so scared.. Red!!

“Yes, Dark. It's best we leave them be for now. You're right.” It takes everything, all his willpower. But he got it out.

Vi- Vivi! My Flower!

Shadow looks up, only able to open his eyes half way to meet his captor’s eyes.

                                                                                                                             .

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                                                                                                                                        .

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“It’s my story. You're only here because I let you be .”

Chapter Text

It's eerily quiet the rest of the way to Castle Town, and Wind is really not enjoying it.

The captain said it was a good idea to wait until there's finally no interruptions to talk more about anything, but he didn't think that meant no talking at all.

It's so quiet, even Wild seems too quiet. Their body is still, and there's none of those subtle motions Wind has learned to look for in them. Maybe they're just tired, too.

When Twilight and Wild came back with Four and a small, poisoned Hyrule fairy, there were a lot of questions. Mostly from Wind himself, he admits to himself.

But Legend was a close second.

Legend's questions were more like accusations. Like a rabid animal finding its next victim. All of us were stressed, but Wind didn't fail to realize the terror and dread that just emanated from the vet during Hyrule's absence. Even now, behind Wind on the trail, Legend is still staring daggers into Four.

Why can't we just work together, he wants to ask aloud.

His legs are sore.

Wind let's go of a sigh he's been holding onto for the last thirty minutes. It's a deep, heavy, tired sigh. For a minute he closes his eyes, picturing home. The sea, wooden board beneath him, and sails above him.

If only the breeze isn’t blocked out by the trees.

But thankfully, a glimmer of hope awaits him as he opens his eyes. Over the horizon of trees he can see stone towers and flags with the same symbol of the royal family.

Just a few more steps!

—

The view from just outside the walls is immaculate. Pristine stone bricks stack high above the heroes. The darkened plank roofs peek over the walls as guards walk the walkways high above the nine heroes. Horse drawn wagons presumably loaded with goods from other towns and villages.

Time is happy that safe trade has finally returned to this Hyrule.

Warriors taps his feet on the dirty stone pavement underneath the group. His arms are crossed and there's that familiar look of thought Time grew so fond of. Even during the war in his youth, despite the smell of smoke and gunpowder, that face of contemplation helped ease his weary mind. Especially after the incident with his mask.

Warriors steps out of line, breaking his stance and prodding up to the reception guard. The guard looks up from his clipboard. There's a conversation, shared salutes, and a bow from the guard before Warriors motions for the rest of the group.

Time swiftly follows In front of the group as a few younger links behind him mumble complaints for Twilight to stop pushing so hard. He lets out a scoff at the imagery of his pup herding the others like goats.

“So, I needn't assume you used your position to get us in, Captain?” Time nudges Warriors as they catch up to him.

“Of course. It's nice to use the privileges I have from time to time.” the Captain flips his hair dramatically, practically posing as he guides them through the gates. “Besides, we have much to discuss. And I want to show you all around!”

Time laughs aloud with this. “Oh? Chaperoned by the great Hero of Warriors in his Castle Town? The honor” he fake swoons, raising his pitch a tad higher to really sell the gag. All it gets him is a punch in the arm, though.

The walk through his home is comforting. The smell of fresh pastries, the sound of bargaining, the feeling of the stone under his feet 

This is home, his home, one he would gladly fight for over and over.

Warriors throw a look over his shoulder at the rest of his group, carefully yet swiftly making checks on each of them as they pass through the crowd.

Time is directly to his right, fine and dandy, maybe a bit too cheerful. Directly behind him is Sky, eagerly taking in what the future of his kingdom holds with his own gleaming eyes. There's so much childlike wonder in that young man. Four is next to Sky, looking into alleys and at street cats, keen to appreciate the little things rather than the bustling crowds and stalls.

even further behind that is Wind. He's constantly trying to get away from Twilight, who has a firm grasp on the child's waist. Wild walks calmly next to the ranch hand, suspiciously looking over every passerby who gets too close.

And in the back, Legend is waving a hand in front of Hyrule's face. Warriors can make out heavy labored breathing from the traveler and people are bumping into the pair. There's a panic in Legend’s motions that radiate the need for assistance but the unwillingness to ask.

Warriors stops in his tracks, turning on his heel and briskly pushing past Twilight and Wind. He coaxes Legend aside and crouches down to get to eye level with Hyrule.

“Hey. Little fairy, c'mon talk to me” he speaks just loud enough to be heard over the crowd. Warriors shakes Hyrule's shoulder slightly. “Legend, what happened?”

“We entered the crowd and he slowly started spacing out” the vet frets, squeezing Hyrule’s hand tight as the rest of them are starting to realize what's happening.  “We should get off the streets as soon as possible.”

Warriors agrees with the assessment, giving a hum and a nod. Standing straight up, the captain grabs his cape and drapes half of it over Hyrule's body, pulling him close.

“Just A little longer to the Castle, kid.”

The sudden influx of magical signatures is sickening.

Usually, Hylians don't hold too much magic, just little wisps. Sometimes you get people with deeper reserves or more potent abilities. However, for the most part, they're just little sweet wisps.

But even Hyrule has an amount of sugar he can't handle.

There's so many people. People who could be hurt if he trips. And as they keep walking there's more, more noise, more people, more magic.

It's so much.

But it's also foggy.

There's a blur in front of him. Legend? I'm okay. Now there's orange and blue. Warriors’ hair is so perfect. Please don't look at me like that, I'm okay. Just a little longer? Okay. I can make it.

Then there's that stunning blue of the cape, but all around him as he's guided forwards. Suddenly, there's no more vision of the people, but he can still feel them, hear them. But now, there's just one less thing to worry about.

Suddenly, things are just a little less foggy.

He focuses on his steps, putting one foot in front of the other. His breathing is fast. Maybe he should focus on slowing it down? So he does. In and out, in and out. Maybe going even slower makes it better? So he tries that, in and out, in and out.

It’s nice, not having to think about where you're going or what you're seeing. The gentle arm wrapped around his back that keeps him on track is comforting. If only he had this sooner. It’s nice to feel another's touch, to be protected instead of protecting.

His life has been nice since he was whisked away in that portal. People have been nice. Legend never pressures his secrets out, it's always a give and take. Four saved him, came after him, took care of him. Even if he’s still a little out of it and low on energy from the poison… Warriors is keeping him safe, now, in his own little blue safe space.

Sky always told him about Skyloft, how amazing the surface of his world is, all the places he’ll take him. Twilight is there when there's emotions Legend can’t talk him out of. Time’s guidance has helped him so much. Wind and Wild both find him when he wanders off a bit too far, and get into trouble with him.

Is this what a home feels like?

“Hey. we’re at the castle, I’m going to remove my cape now okay?”

Warriors. 

Hyrule makes a short affirming hum, and suddenly the light starts to flow into his eyes once more.

The Castle is huge! And it's so clean and tidy. Every stone seems spotless, and the glass has so many colors. Suddenly the gate starts moving and a very pretty lady with three attending guards steps through to greet them. Warriors kneels as she walks past the steps, and a few other heroes follow suit. Oh, is this his Zelda?

“Link. It is nothing but a pleasure to see you again. Come, we will talk more inside.” The pretty royal lady says “Follow me.”

Past the pristine halls and tapestries, down the seemingly never ending maze of turns within the castle, eventually the group is led to a more dimly lit room. Maps and papers line the walls and bookcases tower over everyone. Once the group is in, the pretty royal lady motions for the guards to leave and they close the door behind them. The pretty royal lady makes her way behind a desk at the far wall, and Warriors stands at attention by her side.

“Is this a library?” Hyrule finds himself mumbling out loud.

“It is not. This is the tactics wing” She turns to face Warriors. “The soundproof barrier is still active, please speak freely captain.”

“I am but a foot soldier now, your majesty Zelda” Warriors confirms Hyrule’s theory, this is his Zelda. “It appears portals have been opened across time once more. These-” He motions to the heroes behind him- “Are the Heroes of Light from across time. We appear to have been brought together by the forces that be to clear out a plague of black blooded monsters.” His voice is clinical and cold, only stating the facts. So proper…

Zelda nods, hands together and leaning on her elbows against the desk. “I suppose this is why you haven’t responded to your summons the other day, soldier?”

“It has been months for us.” Warriors states, baffled. But he tries to recoup his outward stoic facade and continues on. “I did not receive a summons before I left, no.”

“I see…” Zelda trails off, tapping her fingers in a rhythmic order on the stained wood. “I will send for Impa to check the Royal Vaults. Inform me about these monsters you speak of.”

“Yes, your Majesty.” Warriors says, his tone leaning more and more into that of a soldier with each response. “They appear to have increased strength and intellect. We have found enemies and species from across time with these same properties.”

Four raises his hand, confidence in his stance. “If I may, your majesty. I have input on the situation.” the smith says, stepping forward, further away from Hyrule. Suddenly, the world feels bigger, scarier without that comforting figure in front of him. 

Thankfully, Legend seems to notice Hyrule’s distress and squeezes his hand tighter. Oh yeah, Legend is here. He's comforting too.

Zelda offers her hand palm up, slowly nodding as she passes the stage onto Four. The smithy responds with a nod in kind, nervously motioning to his chest plate, still broken and carved through.

Awful, awful, awful memory.

“As you can see, Hyrule and I had a run in with the monsters.” He references his armor, eyebrows raising to bring a sense of drama. “Before last time, they weren’t this strong. This is new.” he turns to look at those behind him.

Heads from the other heroes bob in unison.

“There's more I haven't been able to discuss yet,” Four pauses, hesitating. “There was a purple portal. The same one that brought me to meet you guys.”

Before any explanation can continue, Zelda stands on her feet, knocking over the chair behind her and reaches for a parchment. Warriors goes stiff, until Zelda calls his name, all of their names, and he’s swift to move into action, shoving aside Time and Twilight and exiting the room with haste unseen since that one time the old man scared him with that mask. The captain barks at the two soldiers outside the door to follow him as they run down the hall. Time seems to want to go with Warriors, but doesn't. Wind shifts uncomfortably.

“What's going on?” Legend is quick to ask, pushing past the confusion and tension of the room to find the root cause.

“I am.. uncertain. But the description your friend gave us aligns with past events.” She places her pen down and pulls a keyring from her waist. With the many keys, there's a stamp, which she marks the bottom of the letter with before rolling it up and handing it to Wind. “This letter should give you access to the Vaults. If anyone tries to stop you, show them this. Link will be waiting for you, Tune.”

What.

Wind accepts the parchment with one hand, and sheepishly rubs the back of his head with the other. “Ah- yea.” He stammers out and glances at Time. “We'll head over, ma'am.”

Zelda walks forward, the sea of heroes parting in front of her as she walks out of the room. Heels quickly click on the floor as she turns the opposite direction of where Warriors ran off. Another soldier's shoes sound as he works to catch up and accompany her highness.

The group is left in a puzzling silence as Wind shifts awkwardly in place, fidgeting with the edge of the parchment he was given.

“Alright. Who is going to give the honor of explaining why this Zelda seems to know Wind?” Legend cocks an eyebrow, his glaring eyes locking onto the small Sailor, who needs to shrink even more.

“Come now,” Four starts, stepping closer to Wind as if to act like a shield. “aggression won't help!”

“Oh don't act like you're any better, Four.” The veteran spits, fingers curling tighter on Hyrule's hands. “We still need to talk about whatever the fuck is going on.”

Twilight physically steps between the two, a predatory glare being cast between the two. “settle down, now. We will talk about it, right, Time?” He turns his head to the old man.

Time nods, closing his eye and letting out a sigh. “Yes, we will. There is much to discuss.” There's a pause in his speech as he looks at the group, only continuing when some of the tension disperses. “But I suggest we locate Warriors first. It would be best to communicate as a group. Wind?”

Time offers his hand palm up to the boy, who takes it with his free hand, and together they begin to lead everyone down the hallways of the castle. Hyrule can see their magic, curling and coiling in a familiarity and kinship much like he and Legend have. That's strange? They haven't been close, or at least not as much as he and his predecessor.

Not only that, but Hyrule also noticed Zelda knows Wind, Legend said it himself even. By a different name, sure, but how? Warriors’ freak out about the portal…

Has this happened before?

Hyrule racks his brain, putting pieces together. Should he be paying attention to where he's walking instead? Yes. Will he? No. There's a puzzle in front of him and he doesn't wait for answers.

And of course, Legend notices.

“Rue.” He whispers in a soothing tone. “Please don't give yourself a headache. Just the look on your face is hurting my head.”

Hyrule grumbles low. “But the puzzle is in front of me, and I can solve it!”

Legend squeezes his hand slightly, sighing and cursing under his breath. “There's a lot of puzzles in front of us right now.” Concern litters his tone. “But, it is best we wait. I hate to admit it but I agree with Four. We need everyone's explanations.”

Ah. there it is, Legend’s rational side, the one he’s been using more often recently. The one that pushes past his dislike for a select few in the group and tries to use reason to survive, not gut feelings.

Hyrule wishes he could do that. Let things go, wait for later.

Thankfully, later seems to be arriving sooner than he expected as Wind and Time stop in front of a door, the two guards that followed Warriors earlier standing outside. Wind shows time the parchment from Zelda, and they salute, stepping aside and allowing the sailor to open the door.

As soon as the door opens, the group starts going down the stone steps. echoes of frantic yelling and rummaging rumble up the walls from downstairs. Warriors is yelling about some ‘book’ that ‘had to have been used’ for the portals as a woman’s voice seems to be trying, and failing, to calm him down.

All of the commotion is overcast by eight sets of boots on stone steps until it's revealed where they’re going. 

Being underground is not somewhere Sky enjoys, and each step descending into the chamber confirms that more and more.

Wooden rafters hold up a low stone ceiling, books upon books upon more and more, beating Legend’s house out multiple times with the sheer amount of content in these walls. Instantly, his family seems to scatter and indulge themselves in the vault, the younger of them at least. Time and Sky try to stay on task, Twilight settling into his role of kiddy wrangler as always. It’s nice to have him around.

Yelling still echoes the walls, more clear as the pair get closer to the source.

“I’m telling you, Link, the spellbook hasn't been in or out of this vault at all. We’ve had eyes on it at all times.” a stern voice reasons with the captain, but failing in his break of character.

Warriors is frantically pacing in the space he’s allowed between the clutter, that is a few steps before each turn. His cape is draped over a chair, but clearly not one for sitting as there's books piled on that too. “But the portals in the report line up perfectly with those Cia constructed, there's no possible way-”

Warriors turns in his pacing, taking a stride forward before realizing that he is in a crash course for Sky and stops abruptly. The scarily strong looking woman just raises an eye, seemingly unimpressed by the newfound commotion in the vault.

“May you introduce me to your comrades, Link?” she asks, eyeing the sword on Sky’s back.

Warriors gives an exhausted glace at the two parties, just giving a sigh and relaxing himself into a slouched position. “Impa, Heros from across time. More than last time.” There's a pause as his eyes examine Time’s face. Seemingly cut in two, healed well, but concerning enough. “Lil Mask is here too.”

Who?

Time chuckles, offering a hand to Impa, who takes it with a hearty laugh of her own. “And where's that shithead Tune? I ought to drill him if he's still alive. Bastard caused me too many heart attacks then.”

“That he did, and still does quite often in all honesty.” Time remarks, still keeping that uptight attitude in lock despite communing with old friends, it seems. But Sky isn’t sure if he should be in the middle of this conversation right now. It’s odd.

It’s not his place.

So, he does something he can do. Carefully moving between brothers and the spines of books in a language he can't read, the chosen makes his way to the chair with Warrior’s cape. He wraps his fingers around the deep blue and starts to fold it nicely, the way he was taught by those in Skyloft.

Then he catches it. The book underneath the cape. 

It’s in his Hylian.

‘Hylia before Skyloft’.

Its title is carved into the leather with a janky, unrefined hand, seemingly in a rush. Sky looks over at the reunion, then back at the book.

Suddenly the book is in his pouch.

Wind is rubbing off on him.

Chapter Text

Wild bobs and weaves around the crowd of people, eyes locking onto a stall just on the other side of the street. They know they're supposed to stick in a group with Wind and Sky, but they're too slow, boring, it's taking the fun out of the experience. Shopping should be fun.

Wind is trying on every article of clothing, and Sky is inspecting wood, talking about the hardness and density for ages with the shopkeep. It's difficult for Wild to understand any reason behind using wood for something other than burning, building or cooking. It’s difficult to understand the others in general.

But, they think they're starting to understand.

Wind wants to feel that sense of control. It’s the way he tugs at his leather jacket to get the fit just right in the morning, or messing with his hair, grooming locks of dirty blonde into a messy yet deliberate shape. There's an art to Wind's ability to keep his appearances just imperfect.

But that's all they are. Appearances. 

Sky, now he's more interesting. Despite how openly he wears his heart on his sleeve, it doesn't quite feel like those emotions are the ones he really feels. The deepness of those feelings is fake, an illusion, one the knight is also falling for himself.

Wild just doesn't want to break that spell.

In a way, they're both like the lone Hylian. Hiding away those what weres, forging a persona around what could be. Maybe they're thinking too far into this, but then again, maybe not.

Maybe that voice in the back of their head is on to something.

Wild finally reaches the stall selling bags of all kinds of differently shaped noodles. They need something specific though… This dish idea is just too important not to attempt.

The shopkeep perks up at Wild's approach, casting aside the prior glum, apathetic look and brandishing the smile of kings. He greets the champion with words they fail to care for, fail to register, they just continue to look at the different noodle shapes, searching for the perfect vessel.

Wild points to the shell shaped noodles and holds up three fingers. The shopkeep is quick to work, bagging up three medium sized bags of the noodles and placing them on the counter as he ties them off. Wild wordlessly places the appropriate amount of rupee and takes the bags, carrying them under their arms.

And as they leave, the shopkeep goes back to that apathetic state.

Fake.

Wild makes their way back to Sky and Wind to find the two still pretending like they’re not going to head out to the next town in the morning, and that they’re supposed to get supplies as a group. They walk up behind the little sailor, who’s apparently making it his life purpose to try literally every scarf and hat on in this poor old woman’s stall. From the looks of it, it's a small thrift shop. Accessories and small little knickknacks from different places and people in one spot, on one counter.

It's a lot like the heroes, huh.

They find themselves staring at some of the earrings that seem to glisten in the sun. Golden hoops, gemstone studs, they're all amazingly crafted and with a shimmering beauty that pulls eyes in, but none of them catch the chef's eye quite as much as a very peculiar pair that's seemingly pushed to the side.

It's a pair of stud earrings, silver shaped like the petals of spider lilies with such depths and detail that Wild can't help but just pick them up and admire them.

“Oh my.. what a fine eye you have, child.” The old lady's voice croons as her head perks up a bit. “Quite the craftsmanship on those, wouldn't you say dear?”

It takes a moment for Wild to respond, simply captivated by the earrings, but eventually they're able to manage a quick nod of the head. it's fascinatingly beautiful and hauntingly captivating, they want to say.

The woman raises an eyebrow, a well meaning smirk creeping up on her face. She seems to understand. For a moment the two stare at each other, words unspoken but meanings so loud it deafens the crowd around them. She picks up the price tag from where the earrings were, waving her hand to dismiss Wild with a wink. 

“Keep them child, those flowers seem to speak to you.”

The act of kindness shocks Wild. The feeling of warmth buzzing up in their chest is new yet familiar at the same time. What is this feeling? Did Link feel this, or is this from their life? They're not sure, but it's a nice feeling, it's filling a void they didn't know was there.

Back in their Hyrule, in their time, they always had to exchange money or items for this kind of thing. Never was it given for free because they admired it, so why? 

Why Is this real?

“Oh, oh! Can I get this for free too, miss?” Wind perks up, holding up the end of a red cotton scarf he’s currently trying on with that familiar glint Wild recognizes, the look the pirate gets when there's free loot for the taking.

“Of course not!” The old lady barks, snatching the scarf off from around the young boy's neck. “You’ve been trashin’ my stall for the past fifteen minutes, shoo!” She yells, reaching for a broom and starting to bat Wind away. Wild grabs the sailors hand and starts running off into the crowd with a grin.

There's a familiar fondness creeping into Wild's heart as they weave through people, running from the threat of being told off by someone with authority. It's the first thing the pair did together, trying to sneak an extra serving of food from Ashai.

If they remember correctly, Sky is just a few stalls down, and they know the old lady won't actually chase after them, but still…

It's nice to have good memories. Something to reflect on fondly, to remember in a way that won't bring pain or grief. 

Wild slows down as Sky comes into view. He's finalizing a purchase for a block of wood, and seems pretty happy.

“Hoi! Sky! Come look at what Wild got!” Wind calls as the two walk up behind him. Sky’s head turns and he raises an eyebrow, clearly more interested in the bag of noodles than the small earrings clutched in their palm.

“What's in the bags?” The chosen asks with a genuine curiosity that can only come from someone who doesn't know you can process grain into noodles.

Thankfully, Wind picks up the conversation as Wild's hands are still very much occupied. “Din’s tits he's never seen noodles before.” The sailor gasps in awe. Wild for one has to agree, noodles are a culinary blessing from the Three themselves.

Suddenly, the urge to make this recipe immeasurably rises.

Warriors holds open the door to a rather pleasant looking café for Legend and Time. Stained wood and warm lighting greets him as he steps through with a theme reminding him of home in a way. It's that sense of comfort and the scents of coffee wafting in the air that's almost disarming in a way.

Time seems to be enjoying the change in scenery too, the veteran notes. There's a soft smile on his face that he rarely gets to see.

“Do they still serve that pumpkin flavored brew here?” Time asks as Warriors leads them to a secluded table in the back corner.

“Pumpkin spice?” The captain laughs. “If they didn't I think they'd have gone out of business.”

Legend takes his seat on one of the surprisingly soft chairs. “Yea, no, you guys need to explain that to me because I'm real tired of the implication that you knew each other before we all got pulled into this shit.”

Time just.. chuckles, which in all honesty just ticks Legend off more. But Warriors actually gives him an answer.

“It's because we did.” He holds three fingers as a signal of sorts to the barista, who nods and gets to work. “During the War of Eras, my ‘quest’ you could say.”

Legend rolls of eyes, oh of course. “Let me guess, heroes from across eras? And you know Wind too?” He huffs.

“I- yea actually.” Warriors scoffs in surprise. “How'd you know?”

“It's pretty obvious when Time and his’ magic basically took the time to scream in my ears about how much you missed holding each other’s hands.” Legend rebuttals, casting a glance over to the old man who is now awkwardly trying his hardest not to look embarrassed. 

But before any more bickering can continue, mugs are placed in front of each of them by a kind looking waitress before she disappears into the back again.

Time and Warriors are now staring at him with excitement. Are they waiting for him to try the drink? Sure, the coffee smells amazing, and there's art on the top of a pumpkin but I can't be that good.

Can it?

Legend picks up the mug and lets the warmth seep into the palm of his hand as he brings the rim to his mouth. Surprisingly, it's not scolding hot, but cooled down to a perfect drinking temperature. It's that first sip that makes him realize why the two eldest like this place so much.

Between the sweet aroma and the flavor of the pumpkin, Legend can taste the pure bliss that is... what did they call it, pumpkin spice? Hints of cinnamon and nutmeg are the first to mix with the sweetness of the pumpkin, but with refined taste Legend can pick out ginger and cloves too. The bitterness from the coffee blends well with the other flavors, dancing in his mouth as he takes another sip before putting it down.

Amazing. It's perfect. Goddesses he wants to bring this home for Ravio.

And to his own dismay, those thoughts are shown on his face as he finds himself gazing longingly at the mug. His thumb gently glides across the porcelain as the soft smile on his face grows. 

Perhaps that longing for home is something Legend can't avoid after all.

“Now.” Warriors says, catching the veteran's attention back. “Zelda has been oh So gracious to inform us on the current situation in Kakariko.”

Time raises a brow, “Those black blooded monsters you mentioned earlier, I presume?”

“Indeed.” Warriors responds, rolling out a map of Hyrule on the table. Legend makes a note to take a closer look at it later.

“Alright,” Legend nods. “Let's figure out a plan then.”

Chapter Text

“This sounds like a solid plan” Warriors finds himself remarking. Sure, the actual process of plotting out said plan was completely commandeered by Legend, but it worked out in the end.

The veteran did bring up a lot of good points though, about the original idea Time and him put down. Not all of them had experience with the tactical abilities needed to execute a war plan like the captain was wrongfully expecting of them.

Maybe Warriors is expecting too much of the group, he ponders quietly as he looks over the revised plan. The map has little markings with ink, a few scribbled on a bit more thick as a reminder of no, this is what's going to happen. All the ‘chips’ are just little things any of them found to represent individuals in the group.

Warriors still can't stop mentally laughing at how furious Wind would be if he knew he's being represented by a small little golden badge with a bee on it. According to Legend, it has to be Wind because ‘he's an annoying ass prick, like the process of getting this thing’.

“I think it's manageable. With the fortification the monsters put up there's still the challenge of actually getting into the encampment that’s going to be a shit.” Legend taps a finger on the center of a crudely drawn wall in the center of the map. “And we'll be fighting around peoples homes too, we'll want to minimize damage.”

“He does have a point.” Time remarks, nodding in agreement. “I think sending the assault team from this angle can decrease the amount of accidental property damage.” He drags his index through an unfortunate coffee spill.

Warriors finds Time’s alteration to the plan plausible, but there's one problem, “That area is open, and in order for this to work we need that element of surprise.” He finally pries his eyes from the map to look at Time.

He fully expected to see that small boy with the yellow fox mask.

Time is sipping on his third cup of pumpkin spice latte, cutting his drink short when Warriors glances at him, “But if we go this route our flank team has more to work with.”

Legend perks up at the idea “We can abuse Wild's tendency to use those infinite bombs of theirs.”

Warriors is starting to like this idea more and more. He gives a proud look to Time and Legend, he's so proud! His little Mask grew up into such a good tactician, and Legend is fitting right in.

Legend puts his mug down on a stacked tower of identical mugs, when did that start piling up? “As much as I love planning how to slaughter some bastard monsters, I should go check on the others.” As he stands, the taller tower of five mugs shakes a bit, clearly upsetting Time slightly.

“Oh?” Warriors starts, “Leaving so soon?”

“No, I'm just going to continue this talk telepathically like a Zelda” Legend rolls his eyes and starts to walk out of the café. “I'll see you back at the inn.”

And before either Time or him could say goodbye, Legend left. Typical.

“He wants to make sure Hyrule is okay, huh.” Warriors asks.

“Yes.” Time confirms.

“Hey, remember when we are in the Royal Vault?” Sky asks, wiping sweat from his brow. Lifting bags of supplies up stairs and into the inn room is not easy when you have to pick up Wind’s slack.

“Yea? What of it?” Wind asks, placing down his relatively light load. “Ooo- Did you nab somethin’ good?”

Wild collapses on the bed they’re expected to share, making some Goddess awful throat noise through the linen. “What about it?” they sign with one hand lifted in the air.

Sky reaches into his pouch, pulling out the book from earlier, Wind’s face instantly dropping. “This” he says, waving it in the air a little before taking a seat at the desk.

Wild begrudgingly lifts his head from the sheets, looking over, and Wind just waves him off. “What’s so good about a book? You could’a nabbed some of that shiny armor!”

Wild starts making their way over to Sky as he rolls his eyes. The chosen points to the cover of the book. “Look, this is written in my Hylian,” The tip of his finger underlines the first line, “And it’s interesting that It’s in War’s time, since, yaknow, they don’t use it here?”

Wind lifts a brow, a little more intrigued now. Soon, the three gliding inclined heroes huddle around this book, looking at the script carved into the leather.

“So what’s it say?” Wild signs.

“Well…” Sky starts, honestly wondering if the title is legit. He only knows so much on the subject. “It’s titled ‘ Hylia before Skyloft.’ ”

“Woah!” Wind explains, almost knocking Sky off his chair. “Wait so like, before you? ”

Sky gulps. “I- I guess?” He shrugs his shoulders, a hand hovering over the cover. There’s an anxiety that washes over him, there’s nothing he can’t know, right? Is… Is he really going to see the history of Goddess Hylia herself?

Twilight rests his head against the wall, mentally preparing himself to sleep on the hardwood floor. Anything, and he means anything is better than a hardwood floor to sleep on. At least with the ground you can find a soft spot of grass or dig a little ditch, maybe a nice branch.

Nope. Hard, cold, wooden floors for him.

The ranch hand finds his head rolling over to look at Four nursing Hyrule, who is of course vaguely protesting.

“You need to eat this” Four holds a spoonful of whatever he apparently gave him to save him from a deadly poison. “Please?”

“But it tastes like… like... like shit.” Hyrule comments from under two blankets and Twilight’s pelt. This is gonna be a long evening.

“You have to.” Four sternly reinforces, earning a reluctant, annoyed, very pissed off groan from the little fae child next to him.

Four raises the thick looking mixture to Hyrule’s lips as he takes it in his mouth. There’s a moment of very clear, very vivid emotional distress for both of the Hylians before Hyrule swallows and sticks his tongue out. Sounds of dismay make Twilight’s ears twitch and that urge to protect fester up in his heart, but that's just enough time for Four to shove another spoonful of medication into Hyrule’s mouth.

“Four!” Hyrule complains, annoyed by being tricked by his savior. “That was uncalled for!”

“It was” Four replies with a knowing smirk. “But that’s the last of the medicine you need for now.”

“Really?” Hyrule’s eyes light up for a moment, taking in the realization he doesn’t need to take anymore of that nasty crap.

“For now.” The smithy puts the rest of the bowl on the nightstand.

Oof. Twilight can hear Hyrule’s heart breaking from here.

“Fine,” Hyrule starts, sitting up a bit, “But you have to tell me about what happened while I was passed out!”

Four chuckles, looking at Twilight and giving him a wink. “Well, clearly we just flew into the sky and hid in the clouds for a while”

“Wha- no w-” Twilight starts before fully clocking in that he is now a part of making this tall tale work. “-we just climbed the cliffs! Yea, that”

Twilight can't lie.

Hyrule narrows his eyes and sits up more only to be gently pushed back down by Four. The traveler resigns to being forced to rest, but not to stop questioning. “I… I need you guys to be honest with me.” He glances between them. “There.. How did you get away unscathed?”

Twilight shares a look with Four. He’s also proper curious on how they got out of whatever mob was following them. Sure, they both managed to fit into a crack in the wall but just what was chasing them?

“I suppose it’s no good trying to keep things from you, Rule.” Four sits down on the side of the bed, tugging the golden feather tie loose from his hair and letting it fall past his shoulders. “You ever heard of the Minish?”

“You were talking about them to Sky, right?” Hyrule asks.

“That I was!” Four laughs, “I know my official title is Hero of the Four Sword, but I’m also Hero of the Minish.” The smith holds up the pendant, letting the light cascading into the room reflect off its surface. It’s right pretty, that thing.

Before Hyrule can ask further questions, with a flicker of light Four’s form shrinks, leaving little Four where he once was on the bedsheets. Twilight squints, thinking he can make out the small smithy dramatically posing in front of Hyrule.

“Wait! You’re so tiny!” Hyrule exclaims, fully sitting upright in his shock and gently taking Four into his hands. “So- Wait- That means… We can both be small? Wait-”

Oh Goddessess the kid’s using his brain again.

Hyrule turns to Twilight. “I know I’m supposed to be resting, but I have an idea.”

Four jumps from Hyrule’s hand, resizing midair to land sitting on the bed again with a bounce. “You can tell us the idea, but we’re not doing anything if it involves you getting out of bed.”

Twilight can agree on that, he’s starting to get comfy in his spot on the floor.

Thankfully, Legend knocking on the door and entering to check on Hyrule cuts any idea of moving short.

Sky finally gets himself to open the cover of the book. Inside the first few pages are sketches, amateur at best, but Sky isn't the best judge of artistic prowess in the medium. It seems to be mostly landscapes, some vague humanoid figures, and some hylian script that is more cucco scratch than words.

“Are we really looking at Hylia’s diary?” Wild questions.

“I- Well, I don’t think it’s hers?” Sky answers with that hint of anxiety that's knawing at the back of his mind. No, there has to be more, right? He turns the page

Plains that seem to go on for miles, mountains in the background. It’s rendered quite nicely, the shadows and lights are clear on the rocky surfaces in the background and the foreground is detailed, but still quite messy.

Wind raises an eyebrow, Sky is questioning the book too.

So the chosen keeps turning the page, more drawings, more practiced writing, different scripts and styles all across pages.

Sky turns the page.

A view from the mountains

Sky turns the page.

Apples in a tree.

Sky turns the page.

Faceless people posing.

Sky turns the page.

A temple in the desert.

Sky turns the page.

Fire and Ice.

all sorts of art.

Sky turns the page

Words. Murals. Half a torn page.

Wind shakes Sky, “What’s it say, What’s it say?”

Sky gulps, trying to understand the words he is about to say. He studies the first mural. Three holy figures, the Three Goddesses, speaking, saying something in unison. They’re casting down two figures, twins by the looks of it, to protect the Triforce.

"Before the Three Golden Goddesses left the land, they gave life to one final creation, the White Goddesses." Sky reads aloud.

“Plural?” Wild signs to break a small silence that built between them.

“I-” Sky doesn’t get it, this book makes no sense. “It must be misspelled”

“No,” Wind points to the mural. “There’s clearly two people there.”

The chosen sighs, opting to read the next segment next to the next mural. The two figures are holding swords, back to back, guarding the Triforce.

"Together, the counterparts guarded the Triforce and guided the races of the land to prosperity." He reads.

Well, it makes sense, and nobody is asking anything about it so Sky continues. He looks to the next page, where the same two figures are back to back again, but up close. The bottom right corner is torn off.

"However, the two Goddesses could not agree on how to assist the races, causing strife."

Sky can feel the unease curling in his stomach. This can’t be real, Hylia didn’t have a sibling. There is no such thing, someone on Skyloft would have known. Yea, it just must be some kid’s fantasy. But why was it in the vault?

Sky’s inner rambling is interrupted by two different yet annoyingly similar clicks on either side of him.

Wild took a picture with their slate and Wind is waving freshly printed film in the air, both seemingly pleased with their work. “Guys, why do you need a picture the book is right here ?”

“You stole it from the Royal Vault ” Wild explains, “ Warriors will find out by the end of the day.”

“Yea! Now turn the page, who's on the next page?” Wind gestures giddily to the sketch showing where the next passage and mural should be. Sky reaches the turn the page and-

Warriors burst through the door, Time behind him carrying a paper bag and going to their own inn room. The captain walks in and outstretches his hand with that look of disappointed expectancy that makes Wind shrink a bit. Silently, the book changes hands from Sky to Warriors, who just leaves and closes the door without a word.

“...Told you” Wild signs.

Chapter Text

There's fire in the night, houses collapsing into smoke and embers before Shadow. Pillars of black smog block his view of the stars from his cliff top view. His mouth is dry from leaving it agape, open in the shock of it all.

But in the end, Shadow is a hypocrite.

He looks at Dark standing in front of him, the pressure, the fear he induces within Shadow's heart, his very being .

He flinches as another house collapses, the crumbling and crashing making his stomach curl in on itself, twisting and turning as the rumbling reaches his ears.

He understands now, why his Violet did it, why he tried to break the mirror.

And he’s more sorry than ever.

"You know, Shadow, when you did this, it was rather stunning to watch." Dark says, glancing back over his shoulder at him. Those eyes, vacant of most expressions besides pure, unbridled  exhaustion. 

Shadow tenses up, straightening his back and trying to look at least a little bit brave. "...You were there ?" He asks, voice faltering.

Dark's eyes widen and brows dip. Is he sad? No, not quite. The taller shade's eyes dip to the ground under his boots before returning to the burning blaze.

"I always was."

Always... How? Shadow is his shadow, one and only. Nobody else gets to be Four's shadow besides him. "I'm pretty sure people can only have one shadow." He retorts, getting maybe a tad bit too possessive.

Shit. He shouldn't have said that.

Dark turns on his heels, glaring at Shadow. Suddenly, the world around them turns bone cold and a shiver goes down his spine. There's fear, palpable and physical, holding Shadow in place.

But then Dark just sighs, he stares into the night sky, at the stars of this era. Is he.. Nostalgic? There’s an air of Dark’s own agony, his own dread mixing in with Shadow’s. "Oh, but Four has more than one type of light, doesn't he.”

What the fuck does that mean?

Time awakens to a luminescent pond and water up to his knees. The water is cold yet warm at the same time, still and reflective. He can see himself, his child self without the scars that are bound to him now, staring back at him.

Surrounding him in the pond are lily pads, reaching out for the moon above. Irises rise from the lakebed, blanketing the land around the pond.

Time steps forward, but his feet are stuck in the stems of the lily pads.

Then. He wakes up.

Chapter Text

The road in front of the Chain is blocked by boulders and rubble, and currently, the heroes are suffering for it. The effects the War of Eras has left on this world are something Time hasn't had the displeasure to think about years at this point. He was simply a teacher at the knight's academy by day and a horse rancher by night. As much as Malon insists he retires the blade, Time can't find it within himself to release that part of him.

Warriors is in the front leading the way through the hazardous environment. The captain has mentioned how this road used to be quite the popular, quick route to Kakariko, but due to the landslide and lack of resources, it's been left in this state for quite some time. 

Climbing certainly is not on Time's favorite activities.

Alas, it’s the quickest way to their destination.

Wild is reaching out a hand for Wind, offering aid on a particularly difficult portion for the majority of the vertically inclined Links. Time watches from the rear as Wind blatantly ignores the help offered by the older of the two and makes his own way up by driving his offhand knife into a wedge and using it leverage.

Time can see Four actively resisting the urge to strangle the sailor for the ‘misuse of equipment’.

The old man huffs as the chain continues on ahead, lifting himself – full plate armor and all – up the boulder. Sure, he’s healed and certainly much better off than before, however, old age, a sword wound, and an arrow wound tend to add up.

Wind seems to linger behind, waiting for Time to push himself up and continue on the trek. The sailor himself appears to want to talk about something, and there’s nobody else behind Time. It must be a follow up on Time’s terrible fate, he reasons. The boy is a stubborn one, as are the rest of them.

Truthfully, they must be.

“S- So uh,” Wind starts, fiddling with his two pointer fingers together. “I’m sorry, for.. Yaknow.”

Time heaves a sigh, honestly unprepared for the emotional toll this conversation is going to weigh on his shoulders. Alas, it is his fault for pushing the sailor away the first time. “It’s quite alright. We both know that no amount of preparation could avoid what happened that day.”

Wind’s eyes dart quickly between Time’s gaze and the floor, the regret after the realization of just who the pair used to be echoing between the two like waves. Those memories on the battlefield, from being Mask and Tune, capturing enemy forts and slaying hordes of monsters.

But that was only the good times.

“I know, but I was right there when it happened!” Wind stresses. “I saw it, Warriors saw it-”

A pause.

“-We saw Him .”

Those numerous dark apparitions of Warriors – the ones that caused so much damage that day. Time scowls, a thought crossing his already burdened mind as he remembers that face, Warrior’s face, but with a scar across its lip.

Maybe that shadow is The Shadow haunting them now. He can't say for sure, they never got to really see the creature stalking them.

“We did, alas, we must return our focus to the battle ahead of us,” Time remarks, letting a hand fall on Wind’s shoulder. “Let your worries go, dear friend.”

“Maybe I would if a certain captain didn't take my book away again!” Wind huffs, anxiety melting away into childish pouting.

“The one you three took from the vault?” Time prods, “You never wanted to read that when you found it, what gives?”

He notices his voice and vocab slipping back into a more relaxed, more Mask tone.

“It was in Sky’s Hylian. It wasn’t gibberish!” Wind explains, “I was right! And none of you believed me!”

Time’s heart squeezes, remembering the aftermath of a battle, claiming the spoils of war. Wind ran off claiming he saw some light and came back with a book, claiming it must be in an ancient Hylian language.

Warriors confiscated it and shoved it in the vault, but not before little Mask could sneak a peek.

“We can talk about it later, okay?” Time whispers with a cheeky grin, just like old days.

And Wind just flashes a thumbs up and that oh so familiar wink.

A battle map lay on the ground, covered in a few specks of dirt from the stick Legend has been using to point to specific locations and visually guide where each team is heading in the upcoming battle. For once, the vet knows what it's like to lead a ragtag group of magical twinks, blessed by a golden triangle, who have wielded a sword from the heavens, with the same soul into a battle.

And it’s certainly a thing he knows now.

And sure, not all of them have the same magical abilities as say Rue or himself, but it’s there , and he can feel it. Not like it matters now. Right now, he’s trying to get Wild to understand that they’re supposed to be with the team that distracts the main force, not run in headfirst by themselves.

Legend pinches the bridge of his nose. “Wild, you can’t just take out fifteen heavily armed monsters by yourself.”

“Says who?” Wild signs back with a pout, the disappointment palpable. Goddesses , Legend wants to strangle them.

There's a rustling from the brush behind Legend, causing him to instinctively reach for his sword. The foliage parts, revealing Wind, telescope in hand and twigs in his hair. Warriors is the first to speak: “Tell us what you saw, sailor.”

Wind himself takes a few steps while stretching his arms. “Well, take that fifteen number we got and, like, scrap it. there's like. Twenty-five.”

“Goddesses…” The captain pauses, Legend doesn't blame him. Nearly doubling the original expected count of enemies from the report is nothing to scoff at. “Were you able to ascertain how many were black-blooded?” Warriors questions.

“Not really, most of them seemed beefed up though.” Wind crouches down next to Legend by the map, fishing some charcoal from his pouch and starting to mark up his map! The sailor starts making marks for each ‘unit’ or monster in ‘play’, or however Warriors would say it.

Captain makes the matter of life and death sound like a game, and Legend is inclined to hate it.

With the adjustments to the map made, Legend takes another look. It seems the added forces are archers more than frontline fighters. A majority of the forces are on the walls of the makeshift fort, protecting whatever is at its center. In a way, it's like a dungeon. There's a challenge, a fight, some sport of opponent that outclasses the rest. You get a key, a way forward. Usually, you get a new item, a toy, something that opens new passageways around the world, a reward of sorts.

The reward is what's more interesting to the vet’s brain right now. What is The Shadow doing..? What is it hiding? 

Why here?

Whatever the reason, it’s clear to everyone in the group they still need to perform this mission. There’s peoples' homes on the line, and a growing army of organized, strong monsters. They simply can’t let this be.

“I’ll go over the plan again,” Warriors starts, the tone of a commanding officer clear in his voice and forcing everyone’s attention on him. “Time, Sky, Hyrule and I will be looping around back. We will perform a piercing maneuver and take out the enemy backline.”

“In the meantime, the rest of you under Legend’s command will serve as a distraction to the main force. Keep the enemy’s focus on the midground of the field, and this should go off without a hitch.”

Legend rolls his eyes, making a coughing sound and sending a glare to remind a certain someone they aren’t all trained soldiers.

Warriors respond with a sheepish glance away before continuing. “If you do have the chance to, I suppose you can breach their defenses. But it is preferable that you wait for the signal.”

Nods and words of agreement echo quietly in the forest, marking the beginning of the operation.

As Legend is rolling up the map, a few on the distraction team are rearranging items in pouches and bags, then the assault team starts heading off to their designated local. 

Five minutes. They have five minutes to wait until they can start.

Five whole minutes.

It’s always those five minutes before that wreck Legend’s nerves the most.

It’s clear everyone else is anxious too, the lingering questions of ‘will I have enough arrows” or “what if my gear fails?’ left unanswered until they actually finish the fight. He glances at Four, who still has that goddesses’ forsaken hole in his armor, where a black-blooded moblin apparently skewered him clean through. The smith must consider himself lucky to have had his hands on the last healing fairy within the group.

The sheer upbeat in strength of the foes they’re about to face make him think about how Twilight will fare. The rancher is currently the most armored of the distraction team, even more so than Time. While they both opt for full platemail, Twilight’s always seemed bulkier for whatever reason. Maybe it’s the way he carries himself, Legend thinks.

On the opposite end of the armor spectrum is Wind, who doesn’t even wear simple chainmail. The sailor seems to prefer evasive agility instead of blocking hits, almost never using the shield Legend knows he has. It drives the vet up the walls, how much of a risk that boy takes.

A blue flash draws Legend’s attention to the group’s prime troublemaker themselves: Wild. Sure, they have an almost completely unknown arsenal hidden within a Din damned magical slate from wherever and whenever in the future, with unknown storage capacities, and who fucking knows what else. It could have the entire Triforce just laying around in there with thousands of apples and sticks of butter.

But Legend is getting off track, the point is this bastard is a loose cannon and an active hindrance to any fight. If they aren’t grazing someone’s face with an electric arrow, they’re throwing one too many explosives and singeing hairs.

And now, in the aftermath of that puff of blue light, Wild stands there with a hilariously oversized claymore that rivals Time’s. That, and his usual fanciful bow and quiver.

Just looking at the chef currently is rapidly raising Legend’s blood pressure.

So, he doesn’t. Legend shifts his gaze over to the bushes that currently obscure them from the moblin encampment, and town prior. He hasn’t been able to take a good look at it yet, but he doesn’t need to. That’s what maps are for. And Legend has a map, he studied the map, all the marks of pen and coffee that adorn it and all.

Then he turns back to see all eyes on him. It reminds him of those days in the palace.

He just wants to get this fucking over with and see Ravio again.

Hyrule fidgets with his sleeves as his group gets into position. Time has been counting down the time they set, mumbling a number to himself every fifteen seconds or so. The traveler, for one, finds it admirable. He looks up to Time, in the way he seems to just stay calm and rational at all times. Hyrule wants to be like him almost as much as he wants to be like the Hero of Legend himself.

Almost.

Still, there’s that gross ugly feeling latching onto Hyrule. It’s not The Shadow per say, but…

… it’s something . An essence? Something that is lingering in the air as they continue to quietly make their way around the village and behind the encampment. Every so often, Hyrule can catch glimpses of what happened to this world’s Kakariko.

It’s all rubble. There’s scorch marks and signs of what used to be walls, but everything is gone.

It’s been so long since Hyrule has seen something so…

Maybe he’s just used to it. Used to the destroyed towns and half torn walls of what used to be a bustling civilization. It’s so prominent in his world, in his time. In a time where the sun is shaded by the smog and ashes that pollute the sky – the sky he can see so clearly now. He never knew the sun could be so hot, so warm, that its rays could kiss his skin and blind him.

He remembers when he first portal hopped, and Legend was there. He remembers when the sun first peeked through the clouds, and Legend had to rip his gaze away, scolding him.

It was nice to have someone who cares like that.

Hyrule slows for a moment, looking back at the rubble.

He refuses to ever let a downfall happen here, ever.

He will eliminate and kill every last monster in that fort.

“Wild, Four, on the count of three,” Legend starts, holding out the Cane of Somaria in front of him, “snipe those two watchguards.”

The two nod in unison and Legend can’t help but notice a purple sheen in Four’s eyes. Whatever. Doesn’t fucking matter. Twilight stands in front of him, waiting on the vet’s command to lead the charge. Wind is beside him, dagger and sword at the ready in their respective hands. Wild on one side and Four on the other, bows trained on their respective targets.

“One…”

Legend starts channeling magic into the cane, focusing on visualizing the cover of the red block he’s about to summon.

“Two…”

Wild and Four steady their aim, fingers twitching to fire.

“Three!”

Legend unleashes his hold on the magic he stored up, summoning a wide block in the field in front of them as two arrows wizz past and land killing headshots on two moblins. Monstrous roars ring out as Twilight starts pushing the block forward with the might of an Ordonian goat herder.

The vet switches out his cane for his bow, one of many, but specifically his most recent. He can not risk equipment failure – and despite the price hike – he knows Ravio’s merch is the best there is, damn Lolian. Wild and Four are still firing arrow after arrow, and thank the goddesses that Wild hasn’t pulled out any of those elemental ones.

He peeks around the corner, checking the progress of just how close they’re getting to the center of town, and therefore the fort.

This… was supposed to be a road. A road surrounded by houses and stalls.

Where are they?

They planned this around keeping damage to a minimal but…

There's nothing to damage.

An arrow whizzes past Legend’s face in a stern reminder that this is, in fact, a battlefield. There are, in fact, enemies on the other side of the magical blockade. And that those enemies destroyed this town, people's homes, people’s lives.

That makes Legend’s blood boil.

“Twilight, push faster!” Legend commands, adding his own muscle into moving the block faster and faster.

“Wh- Aren’t we supposed to stay in the midfield?” Twilight stops for a moment, before continuing with the command anyways.

“Who fucking cares?” Legend hisses at him. “This used to be a whole damn town! Wind get over here and help!”

Wind doesn’t hassle in hurrying over to assist, putting whatever added force he can into the pushing, speeding it up substantially between the two of them. Twilight, however, still fucking questions him. “Okay, yea, but that’s still not what we're supposed to do.”

“I don’t fucking care if Hylia herself came down to tell us not to!” Legend grunts in between his rage-fuelled statements. “Or if Ganon stopped us right now, we will eliminate and kill every last monster in that fort.”

And so the conviction was set between the five. Kill, murder, and slaughter every last monster in that fort, secure the town that’s not even in their own time, and fucking win.

Four’s eyes widen as his bow drops a bit before screaming, “Wild! Get behind the block!”

The two archers duck and roll into safety as no less than fifty arrows line where they once were. Legend can hear the twang from the force of each as they lodge themselves in stone, dirt, old walls, wherever they can. 

“Wind I thought you said there were only twenty-five,” Four hastily questions with a hint of anger.

“The fuck?” The sailor responds defensively. “I only counted what I saw and I was watching for a solid ten minutes! Don't get on me about this!”

Twilight verbally steps in, “We can discuss who did what later but I think the block is cracking!”

Shit.

It is.

Wild pulls out his slate.

“Shit, goddesses fucking damnit,” Legend starts pulling at his hair. “This isn't supposed to happen.”

They drag down a menu on the screen.

“You said this thing is supposed to protect us!” Wind points a finger in Legend’s face.

They tap the golden icon, pointing the lens at the block.

“Yea if there were only twenty something monsters!” Legend screams back at him, fucking bitch.

And with a flash, golden chains wrap around the cracking block. Wild steps forward, switching bow for claymore, and just starts swinging at the now golden block. Four is simply too stunned at the sight to do anything, Twilight stands there, and Legend is holding back his will to strangle Wind.

And Wind is acting like this is normal for the resident chef.

There's a dinging, quickening, a flashing accompanying it. And once Wild is done with a few combos on the thing and that ticking stops…

The block goes flying.

Right into the fort wall.

And explodes into flames on impact.

There’s a brief moment when all the heroes, aside from Wild and Wind, who start rushing the fort, just stand in awe and horror at whatever the fuck just happened. Wild just launched what was the equivalent of a round of canons with a claymore and some weird fuck off slate. The aftermath, a burning wooden fort wall, smoke billowing, multiple archer monsters dead, and more frantically trying to figure out what the fuck to do and opting for full on assault.

And the two most unhinged heroes in Hyrule’s history are happy to oblige.

Legend summons another red block.

Time watches as two arrows land cleanly in the skulls of two moblin guards. Warriors swiftly starts forward, motioning for everyone to follow. The fort itself is rather shabby in it’s construction, all things considered. No matter how organized or what leadership monsters have, their craftsmanship never seems to increase in quality.

Warriors leads them behind a stockpile of barrels as moblin cries ring out, a fervent warcry and call to arms in response to the other team of heroes attacking the front. Truly, this is working quite well so far.

Which is what Time would think if he didn’t catch a glimpse of a swirling purple and red portal.

The others notices as well, peeking over the barrels where they can and spotting the sheer numbers that are against them as bow-wielding moblins rush from the lingering portal and begin scaling the wooden walls.

They’re majorly outnumbered now, and Time watches Warriors grabbing Sky’s shoulder to prevent him from running off. “Wait-” The captain commands, eyes locked on the portal, “if we go in now, we might be flanked from the portal.”

“We can’t just do nothing!” Sky retorts in a whispered yell. His knuckles whiten around the hilt of the Master Sword, blasted blade.

“We can’t risk this, there's too many of them,” the captain snaps back, asserting his assumed authority. Authority that makes Sky second guess himself. Authority Time does not care for. Sky may stand down with his military experience, trained to fall within an order of hierarchy and orders, but Time refuses to submit. Time is forged by rock and twine within the forests lost to man, raised in the untouched nature without order and rulings.

Time knows his comrades are on the other end of that wave of arrows unleashed as the bowstrings sing. Warriors, he respects that man. He knows how to command an army well, to conduct a battle like the sailor on the other side of this fight conducts the winds. He values both of his brothers from that war, kindred in heart and mind. Time enjoys not having to make the decision to delve into a battle, or a well, or a dungeon, He’s let Warriors retain that command he had during the war, and followed orders.

Time knows this is not the war. This is not an army to command. This is a battle where he needs to act not, not wait for the diplomatic discussion Warriors and Hyrule insist on having about what to do or not to do.

One must simply do what must be done.

So Time does what he knows. He notches an arrow to his bow, swiftly, aims true, breaths, releases, and watches the body fall and blackened blood trail from the skull of his target. Smoke coils and curls before the limp body can even hit the ground, alerting the others lined on the wall. Notch an arrow, swiftly, aim true, breath, release. Step forward. Notch an arrow, swiftly, aim true, breath, release. Allow oneself to become one with battle. Notch and arrow, sidestep and arrow, aim true, breath, release. Ignore the yells from behind, if they insist, Time will face the army alone.

Fifty against one are odds he is quite confident in.

Moblins jump from the walls, holding bows like clubs and rushing him. Sliding his right foot forward, Time tosses his bow back to the barrels and brandishes the modified Biggron sword that he has kept all these years. As monsters approach his reach, Time pivots on his right foot, cleaving through three, no, four at once. Fresh blood and smog cover his approach, the ashy smoke the remains of those he's slain.

There’s a pulsing rush in his veins as the darkened cloud grips to his form while he dashes through to the other side, grabbing the poor sword wielding moblin in his path by the throat. He can feel the tough hide and sharpened claws from its fingers grasping at his armored fingers, trying to pry for an escape as the skin on its face deepens in color. Time obliges the creature’s wishes, hurling the unnecessary waste of space into another of its own that was trying to attack from behind.

The prior moblin puffs into smog upon impact, leaving the latter to lose balance and roll backwards. There is no reprieve for the wicked, though, and Time is quick to send the head of his hookshot straight through the moblin’s flesh. He is careful to ensure it hits the thigh of the creature, so it survives what happens next.

Locking the chain at its length, Time hurls his weight, and in turn, the grip on his hookshot forward, whipping the moblin into the three approaching like a ball and chain. The impact is brutal:  dirt, blood, guts, all of it fueling the bloodlust Time is currently experiencing as the high from battle induced adrenaline peaks in his bloodstream. 

Half of his face is on fire, a metaphorical burning that eggs him on. More. Fight more . The way the scar over his eye doesn’t stop it from opening, the milky white marble like replacement for the organ shimmering in the light of the sun. Oh how that half of him – of that thing that merged in that moment when transformation failed – has yearned for destruction like this for years.

There’s no need for orders, or reason, or thought to defeat these monsters, just raw, unbridled rage for what they’ve done.

There’s a call, a familiar voice. One that chimes a little with a magical undertone. Like a fairy from home, it rings in his mind as a blue swirl of magic spreads over his body, his blood soaked armor. It’s a strangely familiar and calming sensation, singing its protections into his ears and whispering its way through his hair.

What follows is less serene: it’s an explosive impact that threatens to throw Time off his feet and tumbling to the dirt he soaked with monster blood. If it wasn’t for the protections of this shield, his hairs would have singed off, and his face would be burning from the pillaring flames. Instead, the magic coils in front of him to protect from the blow, cooling and soothing.

And Time is reminded this isn’t just his fight.

He watches Legend – small in the distance – as he summons yet another block which then turns gold.

“Time, get out of there!” Hyrule screams, strain in his tone. Time doesn’t take long to linger, beginning to rush back to the fae who has his arms outstretched, the source of the magic barrier. Warriors and Sky are already making their way to the other side of the remaining fort wall to protect themselves from the next oncoming explosion.

Time grabs one of Hyrule’s outstretched hands as he runs past, tugging harshly at the boy’s arm to get them both to cover. The golden block returns to its original color as it comes flying at the rest of the fort. Time wraps behind the wall, coiling his body over Hyrule in a protective manner as the light, heat, and explosive sound bring the earth to rumble beneath them and ears to ring.

Twilight stares in awe at the remains of what was once, first, a town.

He feels for the homes that fell, the families that have nowhere to go. It’s all rubble and dust, a reminder of what was. The thought of Ordon ending up like this, of his home, his family, the goats, it’s too much. His stomach churns, just standing there in the aftermath as Wind is chasing after a straggler from the monster forces.

There's a quiet strain in the group as they reunite. Twilight watches as Warriors takes stock of wounds, which are minimal aside from some burns and headaches. Time is covered in blood, and reeks of the ashy remains that monsters leave behind. The other three, Hyrule, Warriors, and Sky, are all clean. 

Which begs the question, what happened?

As Twilight is thinking about all these things, he’s peeking around the crumbled walls, looking at what were homes with a morbid curiosity. He walks through what was once the front door, thinking about what kind of shoes the people here would wear, how they would line them up as they took them off. Were there kids? Did they lay their shoes muddy and across the floor? What did the dad do, perhaps he was a rancher like Twilight himself? Maybe he came home and the mom mended his clothes as the kids played.

He rounds a corner, looking at something that may have been a living room. A place for bonding and play, a place for family. There's still a small table with some knocked over chairs. He walks over, picking up the charred wooden stool and setting it upright. And again, bending over, picking up the chair, setting it up and tucking it under the table.

But, the leg of the chair knocks into something.

So Twilight – one hand on the table for balance – leans to look at what is blocking the chair.

It’s the body of a little girl, eyes still wide open but the life once within gone. Dull blue eyes and burnt flesh that assults his sense of smell as he finally notices among the ash and smoke from the battle prior. Her hair, once golden, burned to a tar. Her ears, her poor ears, they’re blackened from flames.

And she died all alone here, under the table, helpless.

Twilight gives in to the nausea inducing scenes as he turns to vomit onto the floor, falling to his knees. Bile burns his throat and nostrils as he heaves, only getting a moment to breathe before his stomach makes another attempt to expel itself again. It burns, the acid, the pain, the agony he knows that girl went through.

Fuck.

What if that was Ilia? If he failed to save her, to save any of them. What if it was her laying there, dead, broken.

Twilight wipes his mouth and hoists himself up on shaky knees. He looks over at the other heroes. They seem ready to go through that portal, the reason all this happened, the reason this girl had to die without her family.

And so is he.

Warriors inspects the portal before turning to the rest of the group. All of them are looking back at him, ready, prepared, some more than others.

But that doesn’t matter, they have to do this.

So, Warriors steps through the murk.

And the others follow.

On the other side is a darkened world, one that seems to be engulfed in the dimness of twilight.

And the hero with the same namesake speaks up.

“This.. Is my home.” The rancher looks in awe, sniffing the air like a wolf. Concern lingers on his face, and Warriors probes with a raised brow.

“This isn’t.. this is during my quest.”

Chapter Text

The sight and scent of a time all too familiar overwhelms Twilight as the blackened murk of the portal finally subsides. He can hear it, the way the wind and the birds fade in as he steps further away from the whooshing and whirling of the portal. This is his Hyrule, his home, a home where Ilia and Rusl and his goats were all waiting for him. Everyone, even Shad that crazy, genius bastard.

But, there's a double take, a second moment of realization. The sky is deeply yellowed and there's that hefty dim magic wafting in the air from a Curtain of Twilight nearby. So familiar, so calming, a feeling that brings emotions to the surface he wanted to forget. A feeling that reminds him of the wind rushing against his wolf ears and stunningly perfect ginger hair.

That reminds him of a mirror shattering to dust, never to be repaired.

“This is…” Twilight starts, working every ounce of willpower to stop the whine in his throat from freeing itself. Trying to stop those tears, trying to dismiss the chance to see her once more, to see that face, that smile, hear her voice and feel her hair and say-

No, stop. 

Twilight can feel his heart clench tight, he’s so close to her, he can feel it. He’s in the same world, the same realm as her. Somewhere, Midna is here, with the past version of himself. A version of himself who doesn’t know he’ll lose her .

Dammit! Everyone’s just staring at him, waiting for him to finish his sentence as thoughts race in his head, the need to just turn and run, morph into his wolf form and run away from them and towards her !

Don't break down, They need you.

“...This is durin’ my quest” He manages to choke out. Stop, stop looking at him, he didn't choose this, to be burdened like this. They just don't understand, and he knows he has to pull himself together. He has to be strong.

There are questioning looks now as Twilight confirms two things. One, that this is Twilight's Hyrule, and two, that this is in the middle of his quest. He can see faces contort as the group silently puts together what exactly that means.

“If that's the case-” Warriors starts, taking the lead, “-We’ll need to stay out of sight. Paradoxes and the like.”

Right, staying out of sight. Away from himself, away from Midna. From Ilia, Rusl, Shad, shit he can’t even say howdy… It’s been five months, no, six? Right. He met Warriors first, then Legend and Hyrule. After a month of that small group, he had to meet everyone else.

“That would be a good idea, knowing that there could be monsters about,” Legend adds, rolling his shoulders and crossing his arms. “Twilight, what should we know?”

There's an openness to that question, letting Twilight answer how he wishes. Legend is letting him hide things. Does he know about his wolf form? No, that can’t be. Twilight has been doing his best to be discreet about it. Shit, is he obvious? He’s obvious isn't he, nobody can have that many coincidences with being missing for a fight and friendly wolf showing up in the nick of time.

No, calm down Twilight, you’re fine . If they knew you'd be dead .

“I can tell ya, but I’m gonna need some time. It’s.. a bit strange.” The rancher rubs his hand up and down the back of his head, cursing his anxiety and pushing it down. “So, there's like ‘nother realm n’ like, It’s kinda collided with ours-”

“What’s new?” Legend scoffs, his huffing turning more into a chuckle towards the end making his shoulders bounce. “You meet a Lorulian that helps you out? Or a freeloader?”

“What? No !” Twilight fumes, how dare he even insinuate Midna is a freeloader! Well. He supposed it isn’t entirely wrong. Wait. “What’s a Lorulian?”

“You said another realm, that's Lorule.” The vet explains as if these are commonly known facts. “Lorule. Lorulians. The opposite of Hyrule.”

“Is that the same as the Dark World?” Four brings up, tapping his finger on his chin. “I’ve had experiences with an alternate realm with that name, but never Lorule.”

“I’ve heard of a Dark world as well,” Time says, offering his own knowledge on the matter. “From when Ganon corrupted the Sacred Realm.” Twilight can see his lip twitch into a frown, for just a moment. There’s some weight there, somehow.

“No, no, Lorule , not- For Farore Fucks sake,” Legend facepalms with his usual dramatics. “The Dark world and Lorule are different! One is a reflection of Hyrule and the other is the opposite of Hyrule.”

Of course, everyone reacts with equal amounts of bafflement and confusion as if Legend just spoke another language. A lot of information just got dumped into Twilight’s brain all at once, and it feels like he’s expected to understand it. But he doesn’t, he just knows that the Dark World and… Lorule are not, in fact, the Twilight Realm. Right?

“‘Ight hol up, wait, just wait a damn moment.” Twilight holds his hands in front of him. “The Twilight Realm goes by a ridiculous amount of names, but none of ‘em are Dark World or Lorule.”

“What the fuck is a Twilight Realm?” Legend splays his arms out, a confused, angry expression. “I swear if Hylia throws me into one more dark, wrong, messed up version of our world I will go to wherever she is and slaughter her.”

Sky’s face contorts, but is otherwise completely still. “Please.. don’t kill my girlfriend..?”

“Your What? ” Several voices ring out in unison, including Twilight’s.

“You shoulda seen it!” Wind joins the conversation completely uninvited with one of his stories. “We met her and Sky just turned red as a potion!”

Everyone stops, silent for a moment until Time speaks up. “You met the Goddess Hylia? You?”

Warriors chimes in “And Sky is dating her. As in the blood of the Goddess Hylia.”

Hyrule’s eyes go wide and his face sinks. There's a red tint on his cheeks and ears that he quickly tries to cover with his hands to his face as he just starts bawling. “I’m- I’m I-” the traveler just started stuttering out incoherently.

Twilight takes a few steps to the side and kneels down a bit. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, trying desperately to console him. He puts a comforting hand on the traveler’s shoulder. He’s never seen Hyrule like this before, uncontrollably crying. Usually it's just the tears that are sometimes shed during his episodes, but not this. Not this open sobbing in front of everyone.

“I’m sorry I had sex with you great granddaughter Sky!” Hyrule screams out in one breath between sobs.

His… what?

“My... What?” Sky responds.

Goddesses, This is going to take all day to sort through.

Warriors feels like he needs a book and quill to keep from forgetting all of this information. The sun is gone and Legend is still arguing about the logistics of having three completely separate darkened realms. Something about the imbalance of light and dark magiks, or the like.

At least he seems to have recovered from Hyrule having had sex with what is essentially his great great niece. That still has Warriors himself cringing a little at the thought. Although, they should be far enough removed through the sheer amount of time between them all.

Still. That was not on Warrior’s bucket list. What if Hyrule is Zelda’s-

Is Hyrule even before him? Actually, where are they all in the timeline? Warriors never really thought about it, aside from that fact they're all far enough apart that certain events are distant history for him. The Royal Vault doesn’t even have anything for translating that one book , for Naryu’s sake! After Sky snatched it, the captain can only assume that It’s in his language, but that just begs the question on how a book that old got onto a battlefield in such prime condition.

He turns his gaze to look at Sky, who is currently dozed off with Wind in his arms. They seem to have found a nice nook in the trunk of a tree, keeping the two propped up just a tad. Fair, since the sun has long since fallen and the group’s favorite sleepy soldier always seems to have a liking for the small sailor. Sky seems overprotective in that way, of Wind and Wild. 

Warriors look up to see Wild lounging in a branch above them. They were kind enough to make everyone a dinner of scrambled eggs and sausages, but the way they used the knife on the herbs…

Just what happened to make that fight go so wrong?

Well, not wrong per say, they’re all alive in one piece. But it definitely didn’t go to plan. That golden light surrounding the block Legend summoned was from Wild. And the block in general. Legend explained the Cane of Somaria at the café, but the way it blew up into flames . Was that purposeful? Legend was the one who made the plan to stay as a distraction in the first place, why would he decide to change plans like that. Warriors knows the veteran prefers order over spontaneity.

And Wild- Legend said that glow was from their slate. The captain knew it’s main use case is for storage, but there could be more. Who made it, and when? There’s no technology like it from what Warriors has seen or heard.

Then there’s Time. He could see it, his eye, that eye, opening ever so slightly as blood spilt on his face. The solid white of that God’s gaze, It sends shivers down his spine. He remembers that day, where Cia summoned his shadow, and his shadow split .

He remembers watching Mask raise the mask to his face, and how in that second a darkened blade went through him mid transformation.

He remembers how he was powerless to stop the magical malfunction.

He remembers how half of that mask dropped to the ground.

He remembers the screams of a child forced into a war.

He remembers that twisted smile from the shadow.

He doesn’t want to remember.

Farore, bless him with the courage to live with the consequences of those events.

Shadow doesn’t like following Dark. There’s always that eerie feeling left wherever he walks, like the world is pushing down on him. It’s like coming out of the Dark Mirror, but never quite getting out . Feeling all the pressure and goo, skin reforming and flesh weaving into itself. Gross.

He looks back at the destroyed village, remembering the screams from the night prior. He remembers acting as a villager to tell the guard they were attacked, but leaving out how nobody survived. There are no houses now, only rubble. There aren’t even any bodies, they were all burnt to ashes .

Nothing can survive a Dragon’s fire.

Dark raises his right hand- that familiar motion he’s used to make portals before- and a dark magic begins to pool from the center of it. There's a thick fog-like substance, spreading out before coiling into a circular shape. There’s some sort of spark, a light

And then there's a portal.

“Get in the portal.” Dark snarls, drawing Shadow’s attention.

“Wait, we’re just leaving the heroes?”

“No you fucking idiot, we’re luring them” The taller shade grabs Shadow’s head firmly, forcing him to make eye contact. “And this time, you’ll do your job right .”

Shadow can only let out a small whimper in response before he’s half tossed half shoved towards the portal. He hates this. Why is this happening? He wants to stay, to fight back. Why should he be following orders, he killed Vaati to get away from this!

“No.”

“ What? ” Dark glares over, sending a chill down Shadow’s spine.

“I.. don’t want to!” Shadow crosses his arm and lets a smug smirk settle on his face.

He blinks. There's pain, and a weird warmth in his abdomen. Dark is closer now, with his arm outstretched and a sword. Jagged, with wings on the hilt. He follows the blade, and it’s in his stomach. There's blood, black, and lots of it. And, in his throat. Shadow starts coughing, the same liquid making its way over his tongue and teeth and out his mouth.

What... happened..?

Dark’s foot kicks him off his blade, causing Shadow to go rolling backwards. Suddenly, all the pain starts to come through all at once, and it hurts. It hurts, it hurts it hurts! Fuck Dark is walking over now. He’s going to kill him! Shadow maneuvers himself on his elbows, blood streaming out his mouth as he coughs. It hurts!

Dark grabs his right wrist, pulling him up, up, off the ground. Why is this happening? There’s blood everywhere, his blood, demon blood. It hurts. 

Dark puts a finger on the symbol on his palm, the black upside down triangle, the reason Shadow even has form right now.

And then there's a sharp pain, like his very essence is being drained away, like he's being stabbed by the Four Swords, like he's dying again. No, stop, stop please he hasn't been able to see Vivi yet! Please, “Please- No!”

And then Shadow is on the floor again, the cold, bloody floor. The draining stopped, and he can feel his lingering life stabilize. He’s still alive, still here.

Only because Dark let him.

“Get in the portal.” Dark sneers.

Shadow shakes, pushing himself up. There's still a stab wound in his stomach, slowly healing and scabbing over. It hurts, his eyelids are heavy. Each step hurts. It hurts.

But Shadow has to follow orders.

Chapter Text

Four is just happy there's finally some form of downtime. He’s much too tired after everything that's happened in the past few days and- while not being the fluffy mattress and pillow of an inn- his bedroll seems to ward off the bustling noises his awake teammates are making. Even Sky seems to be up and about from the smell of whatever Wild is brewing up for morning caffeine.

The small hero groans a bit and shoves his face into the thin pillow he carries around with his bedroll. More stuffing would be nice, but then it gets too bulky. Currently it’s just enough for the mix of comfort and the ease of transportation. He doesn’t want to smell a tempting breakfast, or coffee, or tea. Four just wants to sleep off his exhaustion.

Everything was fine for the first few months. Small squabbles with monsters, black blooded and normal. Before, when they couldn’t stab right through his chest with a crude spear and the strength of Din herself.

Four can still feel his flesh ripping.

Then there’s Hyrule. He’s had episodes of spacing out before, usually in the dark or a dim cavern. He must of had some kind of nasty run in with a dark creature, but there’s been no time to ask. It’s just been one thing after another as of late. And the way the traveler had the foresight to shrink into his fae form before all those monsters showed up…

There’s something he’s not talking about, maybe not even to Legend.

Four replays the events of that day in his mind. Hyrule’s episode followed by his capture. The portal, the one that closed as soon as he got there . The way the monsters were stronger than usual, the force of their blows. How Hyrule only got nicked and then suddenly, from downwind, there's a mob .

A mob of monsters he didn’t recognize.

It happened almost immediately after Hyrule started bleeding, and the mob came from downwind. Were they attracted by the smell of blood? If that was the case, Four’s own blood would have attracted them. The only logical answer is if…

Four lifts his face from his pillow- interrupting his thoughts- and sits up to look at his team. Wild is flipping pancakes and crisping bacon while Warriors enthusiastically pours everyone some coffee brew from a kettle into a mug for everyone. He’s clearly insisting everyone try it, even Wind, who is very clearly not wanting to. Time nudges the sailor with his elbow a little and says something about how he will ‘grow into it eventually.’

Legend is chugging his mug of coffee, and even Sky is drinking it. Sky never drinks anything other than his bamboo tea in the morning, so it must be something special. When did they even get new coffee beans? And is that foam? Where did they get the stuff to make that?

Four turns back to Wild, who stopped tending to the pancakes and is currently finicking with a cylindrical, almost pill-shaped device. It looks like a thermos at first, but as they put in freshly ground coffee beans in the top, followed by some boiling water, and then its use is clear.

Wild has a Naryu damned portable espresso maker .

Four has to ask how he made that, maybe get his hands on the blueprints themself. Dot would love one to take on picnics, just for the show of it. Maybe he can manage to add a heater so he wouldn't have to boil water beforehand. Could that work? And for any long adventure this would be perfect, even if only Vio has a tendency to drink coffee.

The smith stretches his arms up before rolling onto his feet and standing up, a quick practiced motion he’s gotten used to after so long sleeping on the floor. He stretches his back, small pop reverberating up his back. It’s weird how he slept in so much, but maybe not. All things considered, it’s a good thing he’s resting. It's better that nothing happened while he slept.

Four makes his way over to Hyrule and Legend, who are sitting on a fallen log together. It’s certainly not unusual, in fact it's normal for these two to be tucked away from everyone else, joking between themselves. Four couldn’t be happier they have each other in this, but It’s going to make the next part a little difficult.

“Hey, Hyrule,” the smith interrupts the duo’s conversation and catches a glare from Legend. “I know I said last time with the meds was the last time, but I do wanna check up on you after that fight. Did you use any magic?”

“Uh, yea, I did.” Hyrule scratches his arm a bit and adjusts his gaze to the ground. “It was a small bit- Oh, and I feel fine if that's what you're asking!” He waves his hands in front of him in a defensive manner. “Really! I’m just recovering my magic a lil’ slower than usual!”

“That makes sense…” Four replies. “I can make you some more medica-”

“- No! ” Hyrule exclaims. “Er- uh, no thank you?”

Legend laughs a little. “Look, you really should take some more medication if you’re not at your best right now,” he says, giving Hyrule a loving back on the back.

“I know it’s just so…” the traveler sticks his tongue out in disgust. He’s acting more and more like a child about it.

Four sighs. “I won’t make you, but I highly recommend it,” he says, taking a seat on the ground in front of the two.

“Ah, yea. Four?” Legend starts, spreading his knees out and resting his elbows on them. A comfortable position, maybe he’s finally easing up around the smith. “We were talking about maybe creating a signal for when we sense The Shadow.”

“A signal?” Four perks up, raising an eyebrow. “What kind? Verbal or… Maybe a hand sign like Wild?”

“I’m not great at sign yet but,” Hyrule joins in, a shyness in his tone, “maybe both? It would need to be understood by only us and not it.”

It.

The way Hyrule describes The Shadow, it hurts. The creature may not be his Shadow, Vio’s shadow, but…

“The signal doesn’t have to be an official signed word,” Legend muses, “but it could be helpful if it is. I think for now we should come up with a code word.”

“I agree, but it’s more an issue of what word. It needs to be inconspicuous,” Four concludes.

“I guess we need to start thinking then,” Hyrule says.

“We can’t really go to the cas’le right now, or meet my Zelda.” Twilight says, immediately striking down some of the options Warriors brought up. “It’s curren’ly stuck in a magical barrier.”

“And we can't break it unless we want to upset the timeline…” Time adds, scowling a bit, “and about going to a town or village?”

“Can’t do that either,” Twilight continues, “without knowing where I am now, there's a chance I could run in’o myself, ‘specially ‘n Castle Town.”

“I suppose it’s good we got a supply run then before coming here,” Warriors sighs, crossing his arms. It’s clear he’s not a fan of the situation. Twilight knows he prefers a bed than the forest floor more than the rest of them. “Camping it is. But we still need to figure out why that portal led us here .”

“Every portal we’ve gone through was to clear out black blooded monsters,” Time thinks aloud, “and It has always been between our times, or after our quests.” His brows furrow, and Twilight doesn’t like what that implies. All three of them are thinking about it, the source of the portal. Time’s just the only one brave enough to say it: “The Shadow might be behind this jump.”

“If The Shadow can make portals,” Warriors continues, adding onto the thought, “Why here and now. And how do we know? Any portal beforehand could be from it and we would be none the wiser .”

Twilight bites his lip. He knows creatures of darkness can have kind hearts. They can do good, and strive for the wellbeing of everyone. The Twili were amazing to him in his adventure, Midna especially once she warmed up to him. They don’t want to harm, but they were victims of circumstance.

“I…” Twilight starts, unsure if he should swallow back his words or not. “... I think we shouldn’ be so quick to judge The Shadow.”

There's a deafening silence as the two older heroes stare at him with a feigned neutrality. Pitchforks, that’s what it feels like as they look at him, stare at him, like a monster from the woods. He shrinks, tensing up his shoulders and lowering his head a bit. Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, maybe in other eras, the creatures of the dark aren’t so nice.

Warriors is the first to break the silence. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You’re jok-” Time starts, but is interrupted by Warriors raising a hand.

“But, this is not the time to be questioning the righteousness of our foe. We only know a few things about it. One, it’s a creature of dark magic like ones many of us have seen before, and two, those dark beings we’ve met have not been kind,” Warriors argues calmly. “We simply can’t afford to trust that which we don’t know, let alone understand.”

Twilight lets a look of sadness and hurt hit his face. He feels… alone in this. Like nobody else would understand the connection he and the Twili had. He and Midna had. Surely The Shadow is doing what they are for a reason.

“I agree with Warriors on this,” Time says. “We simply can’t ascertain what its goals are.”

Stop, stop calling them an it . The Shadow is a being too, they deserve to be treated as such!

“But there’s good creatures of the dark ou’ there! And they can be reasoned with, they can have good intentions!” Twilight argues, please Hylia let them understand!

“The final answer is no, Twilight, I’m sorry.” Warriors stands firm, unflinching, unmoving in his decision.

And all Twilight can do is nod.

But that doesn’t mean he agrees. He refuses to agree.

Hyrule goes off to ask Wild about some signs they could use for a signal, and Four manages to snag his seat on the log next to Legend. They decided on a word, a verbal one. Daffodil . Apparently, according to Hyrule, they mean a number of things. Happiness, rebirth, desire, death of youth. And Legend figured something they would find in nature would be a good word to use.

Hyrule mentioned only ever seeing a daffodil once, outside a dungeon, and that it’s one of his favorite flowers. Four never knew he had such a passion for floriography.

But now, he's stuck with Legend, and the air is just a bit thicker . Tension fills Four’s muscles as the one person protecting him from the veteran’s criticism is across the camp.

“Look.” Legend breaks the tension. “I respect you, as a person , and I won't judge your secrecy on things.” Legend shifts his gaze to look at Four with narrow, pointed eyes. “But you and whatever that creature have going on, needs to stop.”

Shit.

“What do you mean?” Four answers, unable to fully mask his anxiety.

“It’s the way you act about it, the way you didn’t say it was there,” Legend scowls, “the way it got Hyrule in trouble because of your silence.”

He’s right. Because Four didn’t say anything, something did happen. Because he, no, they couldn’t decide on how to go about dealing with.. Whoever it was… Hyrule and him almost… He did…

“You’re right,” Four sighs, resigning himself to the oncoming verbal onslaught that Legend is certain to give.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, Legend just shifts off the log and sits on the floor, arms wrapping to the other side of the log. He sits there, lounges, and just acts like nothing happened.

“Are you… mad?” Four asks, a little afraid of the answer.

Legend rolls his head back, looking at the smith. “Not really, honestly I’m pretty happy you just accepted you were wrong.” He waves his hand in the air a bit. “Most people would just double down, saying they’re right. It’s honestly a breath of fresh air.”

“Ah.” 

Four looks away, unsure how to continue the conversation, if he should continue the conversation.

Instead he just.. doesn’t. Neither of them do. They just sit and watch Wind and Wild pack up cooking supplies as Hyrule admires a piece of jewelry the cook gave him. Watch Warriors, Time, and Twilight discuss what to do next, some tension building. Watch as Sky widdles down some wood, revealing whatever he sees in it.

And, they just watch.

Chapter Text

Shadow watches as Dark twirls some twine out of strips of bark he’s torn off a fallen branch. If anything, the taller shade is resourceful. It’s something Shadow actually admires about him, despite the amount of pain he’s gone through from those very resourceful hands.

But Shadow knows better than to just judge Dark from face value. Between being kicked into a tree, commanded around, or stabbed in the gut (that one hurt a lot), Dark is actually reasonable and- dare he say it- kind. He has hobbies, likes and dislikes, he gets annoyed when it rains hard and puddles pool around his feet. Dark is a person.

Shadow can name a few things Dark enjoys, in fact. He actually likes sunny days, for one. And sure, they both have the shared effect of being a little tired in direct light but he doesn’t seem to care, like he’s almost immune to it! What was the term… Vio would know.

Ah! Like he’s micro dosed the sunlight!

A smug grin grows on Shadow’s lips, imagining the praise Vio would give to him if he was here. Sadly, regretfully, none of them are here. Shadow is stuck fetching suitable sized sticks for puppet limbs.

That’s another thing Dark likes, puppets. He seems to really enjoy making them, and using some sort of dark string from his palm to control them. Sometimes he’ll play with them like a child plays with dolls. Shadow personally thinks that’s strange, the way he’ll pick up from where he left off during any downtime. It’s like he has to continue the story until the very end. Is there an end?

And there Shadow is, watching this mysterious shade create doll-like replicas from wood and twine. Mimics of the heroes (he’s currently making one of Four) they've been leading around to who knows where while they do who knows what. It’s hard for Shadow to understand the real meaning of whatever in Hylia’s name he got oh so kindly given form again to do. And by a meer shard of that dark triangle- fuck it, he’s calling it the Dark Force. Basically looks like it, how it appears on Link. Just, on his palm. And on his right hand, not left.

Just more on the list of things he doesn't understand.

He wants to ask about it, about everything. Why the fuck is this Dark Force a thing, why it just reeks of dark energy. Who is Dark, why is he, where is he? Wait no. He’s right in front of him. Where is he from? yea, that's it!

But Shadow is also afraid to ask, afraid of another beating, afraid of the answer being vague and not really telling him anything. He wants to reach out to Dark, to comfort him and tell him it's okay, and to help him.

Because that's what heroes do.

And Shadow is a hero.

So he sits cross legged with Dark, mirroring the way he leans over slightly with shoulders ever so slightly rolled forward. It’s a subconscious thing, something that all shades are naturally inclined to do, watch, wait, and mirror. But this time Shadow chooses not to wait, he’s an impatient bitch after all.

“So, who’s shade are you? ” Shadow meekly asks, laying out the twigs he was commanded to fetch in front of Dark. “Since- ah- yaknow. Uhm…”

“I’m Link’s .” Is all Dark responds with, quick and to the point as his hand hovers over the line of twigs. He’s thinking, and Shadow knows not to interrupt when he’s thinking like that.

And then the taller shade picks up two smaller twigs for the legs, proceeding to carefully drill a hole in one end of one twig with his needle. A hole where the torso will be stitched to the leg with twine. It’s a slow, careful, deliberate movement. A practiced and planned action.

“Can I ask which..? ” Shadow asks, bracing somewhat for what he imagines is the oncoming assault. The assault which never comes.

Dark hums, musing over the answer as he works. “I already told you.” He mumbles disinterestedly, leaving Shadow more confused.

“I don’t think you did?” Shadow responds with yet another question.

Dark’s needle makes it through the twig. “I did.” He delicately puts down the leg and pics the other one, working through it once more. “You just don’t want to acknowledge it.”

“But you didn't , you said some weird shit about Lin- Four having two sources of whatever and like, existing for a long time, or me fucking up.” Shadow responds, emphasizing ‘whatever’ with frantic jazz hands. What the fuck is any of this suppose to mean anyways.

The needle makes it through the wood, faster this time, with more impact and pressure as the needle goes through. “I told you, ” Dark sneers, “that Four has two types of light, ” he points the needle in Shadow’s face, causing him to violently flinch, “And every shade should damn well know what the byproduct of light is.”

Chapter Text

Things tend to get decided for Twilight, whether he likes it or not. 

First, it was being cursed with a lupin form, to be used as a mount for a princess from another realm. Forced to do what needed to be done without his own feelings or emotions being taken into account. Why bother with what he wants when thousands of other Hylians mattered so much more?

It’s the same here, but on a smaller scale. It’s his word against eight others. Eight others who know better than him, who have more experience. It’s more important to keep that in mind while making decisions like where to go and who to fight. There will be times where certain people must take priority over others.

It just so happens, that at this very moment, Twilight is low on that list.

He's always been low on that list. He’s the frontline, the brute force, the protection for others who deal more substantial damage and do more in a fight. He is the support, the guiding force, the shepard, the herder.

And he’s never lost a goat, not once.

So he settles nicely into his role as the guide to a place he doesn’t want to go, down a road that hurts to travel, to a spring he prefers to forget.

Lanayru. The serpent light spirit who showed him… that.

He hates the idea of being controlled by greed for power. The idea of a rampant lie– of need– controlling his actions, making him leave people for the wrong side. But maybe, it would be nice to have that break. Time to himself to just do what he wants, be who he wants.

But a simple relinquishment of control wasn't what Lanayru showed him. No, she showed him what it means to wield power beyond his comprehension, the corruption that it brings. Even he knows that dark powers can not be controlled by Hylians.

But still, that vision he got, it haunts him. Every time he comes close to this area of the forests, remembering the springs, the water, the darkness of that vision…

…The way he smiled at the idea of overwhelming power and authority.

Twilight shivers remembering that last bit. He refuses to return to the person he used to be, or to allow the bitter reminder of who he was to change his actions now. He knows better, he controls himself better.

Powerful relics are not to be used for evil.

And both light and dark relics exist, both full of temptation.

Twilight refuses to let that desire cloud his vision again.

Legend doesn’t like secrets. He doesn’t like doesn’t like how he knows everyone has them. That body in the closet, maybe some less metaphorical than others. The veteran himself has killed many, many people. Monsters, Hylians, there’s blood on his blade and hands from both sides.

Those guards died because he couldn’t save them until it was too late.

So with the Triforce, at the very end of his very first quest, he wished for everything Ganon did to be reversed. For everyone to be saved.

And nobody remembers how his uncle died, or the stormy night Zelda got locked up in the castle. Nobody remembers how everyone was brainwashed to hunt him down, or the deeds he did. Nobody remembers what he did, who he killed and who he saved.

Does he really deserve the thanks he gets now from those he has killed?

He still has that ocarina that boy’s ghost asked him to find. He still returns to that witch’s hut with mushrooms, the ones from the forest, and gets magic powder in return. He still wears the boots Sahasrahla gave him.

And yet he still can't tell anyone. Legend must keep this a secret.

The Hero of Legend cannot be known as a killer.

He wants to be free of that burden.

‘We’ll find whoever is behind this and defeat them.’ Green’s words echo in Four’s head. A task as simple as following Twilight allowing for more intense conversation between his parts without splitting. Thankfully.

‘Yea! Then we can go home and maybe take Zelda on a vacation together!’ Red says, a swirl of uplifting energy making the eyesight brighten a bit, metaphorically. Any actual change in eyesight would be at least mildly concerning.

‘We can’t take the princess on a vacation out of the castle.’ Blue scoffs, a sudden pressure felt exerted on him, like the calm before a storm. ‘Politics just don't allow that.’

‘Politics can suck my ass,’ Green retorts with what feels like a smirk, some of the prior tension relinquishing itself. ‘I do want to take her to a nice flower garden though. She’d enjoy that.’

‘D’awww~’ Red coos, the warm breeze taking over once more, ‘you wanna take Zeldy on a date!’

‘What-’ Green is quick to respond, too quick. A swift wind that slices through. ‘-No no, I just think it would be nice is all! She rarely gets out as is…”

Quiet, an echoing, reverberating quiet inside the shared mind of a body called Link. Vio isn’t keen on silence, but mayhaps it’s what he requires to really figure out what’s wrong with him at the present. 

Not him as in Four as one, him as One of Four.

That Shade, The Shadow. Its presence has left Vio’s mind in a wreck, a number of questions sifting through his distinct corner of Link’s mind. Analytical, conniving, the smart part of Link.

The smart part of Link that is in a rut because of a past bygone relationship.

Vio loved Shadow, he loves Shadow. There’s a part of him that yearns for the night they drank, for the sensation of his touch, for the romance that could have followed. He ponders if there was ever a way to save Shadow, bring him back into the shared comfort of his arms.

But he’s smart, he’s the smart part of Link. Vio knows much, much better than to chase after whims like that. Inconceivable whims and desires that cannot be fulfilled anywhere but dreams.

Anywhere but the comfort of his own bed, with his own body, split from the others. Anywhere but with nothing except the thin sheet and half a blanket to cover himself. Anywhere but his own mind. The smart part of Link’s mind.

And then, The Shadow appeared.

It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Shadow . Vio knows Shadow’s presence. That thing was akin in nature to Shadow, maybe the same species, or some other relation. But it wasn’t him.

But there was this… lingering sensation there, wafting off of it.

A magic of sorts, like a scent or a sound.

A magic of sorts that is Shadow.

A magic that gave this small, smart part of Link a glimmer of hope. A hope for the future, to feel the graze of his lover’s hand against his cheek. A hope to gaze into his dark red eyes. A hope to live the life he would die to live.

And that leads Vio back to the silence. A silence that stems from the others metaphorical stares at him, at his silence, at how quiet he’s been. No snarky remarks on Green’s extremely obvious love for Zelda. No pushing at Blue’s buttons, to see how long it takes for him to start yelling. No shoving down Red’s affectionate tone.

Nothing.

Vio feels like nothing right now.

Chapter Text

Hyrule knows he has a special connection with the surrounding magic. He can almost see it, feel it, like a sixth sense.

He sees the swirling afterimages of Wild’s form as they reveal a big, round cooking pot alongside ingredients from their slate. Strange motions, a glimmering endtrail of fragmented crystalline apparitions that flow and waft and change the longer it’s been since the action has occurred.

Colors, fragments, these amazing glimmers into the past that only last for so long.

But Hyrule sees it.

He sees it when his friends fight. Time’s all out brawl with the strength equivalent of an army still amazes him. Hyrule can only aspire to be as amazing of a fighter – as amazing of a hero – as the old man himself.

And being able to view the afterimages of the fight, up close, personal. It struck him with sheer awe, Hyrule could feel it, feel everything. Every muscle that moved, the intentions, the actions, as if happening again and again.

That’s when he finds these images are the clearest and last the longest, when there's that intense intent and emotion behind it. There has to be the strength of will behind it all, behind the movements.

Hyrule simply has this magical connection with his surroundings.

He watches as Wind sits precariously on the edge of a cliff overlooking Lake Hylia. He watches his feather pen, movements trail and flicker out, the paper’s ends blowing in the night breeze, the sailor’s expression twitching slightly with each stroke between glances at the sky.

He watches Sky take a seat next to Wind, the chosen’s eyes fixated on the waters below instead of the stars above. There’s an excitement wafting in his aura that Hyrule is actively choosing to ignore because if he does jump into the water that means they have to fish him out. Fishing him out means someone going after him, then someone getting him back up.

And that train of thought exhausts Hyrule, so he changes focus.

He watches Legend’s attempts to barter or outright buy Wild’s espresso maker, but the chef is rather firmly refusing. Good for them! Everytime Wild shakes his head, the afterimages follow. It’s more subtle, barely there. Poor Lege, he really likes the coffee Wild makes. Hyrule’s sure he wants to make it himself too.

Maybe Legend just wants to make coffee for Ravio, he’s always been cute about his totally-not-romantic-married-for-taxes husband like that. It’s adorable!

But, back to the point Hyrule wants to make to himself, the entire reason he really remembered his ability to see these shapes.

He saw it, walking through the portal. He saw two shapes, that oozed energy, that oozed fear.

And it took everything in him to not break down then and there.

It was him. It was him . The dark figure who… who…

Hyrule traces a finger over his scarred lips, following the lines, remembering that sword. He can feel his mind’s hold on reality slipping, slipping, falling out of his grasp. There’s a blur, a blur, a motion as the world spins. He remembers the dark, cold stone walls. He remembers the mirror of himself, smiling, smiling, mimicking himself.

A figure without color, without any other target.

It’s like it had a vendetta against Hyrule. 

But it also didn’t have the will or the want to make its own choices, like it had given up.

And that’s what terrifies Hyrule.

That it wasn’t even trying and still hurt him so badly.

And then Wild claps their hands together, announcing dinner is ready.

Wind can’t hold back his excitement to map out yet another new sky. He can barely hold the excitement in as he drops his bag, going elbows deep in to fish out his maps, ink, and pen. Sure, the sailor doesn't need to have his arms that deep in the bag, but between the joy each new era has brought him with this simple task and the energy running through his veins, it’s not exactly easy not to.

And so, Wind rushes off to the cliffside near where the rest decided to settle for camp. He’s tired from walking, but Din damn it all he needs to see the sky clearly as soon as possible! Forests are just so lame!

And then, there they are.

The stars themselves.

It’s so clear, so amazingly special and perfect and unique and- Wind loves it. Wind loves all of it. Each and every single star in the sky that aided him in his adventure, that leads each ship, each boat – he loves them! He loves how some make up constellations that tell stories from so, so long ago, he loves how they dance across the sky year after year!

So he gets to work. With a new, blank canvas Wind carefully begins drawing out the basis for his map of the stars, to capture the wonders of it all on a scroll. Then, with as steady of a hand he can muster and with his cleanest handwriting, he spells Twilight’s name at the top left corner.

And now come the stars themselves.

The Hero, The Windfish, all of the constellations that make up the sky, all of them so perfect in their own unique way to this era, to this time…

But... somethings off…

It’s familiar, in a way. Maybe it's the fatigue, or some strange deja vu.

But it’s bugging Wind, and he scowls to show it.

Each dot and stroke of the pen he makes sure to double, no, triple check. It’s too familiar, too similar. 

But there’s footsteps behind him, and that’s more important to the sailor.

‘Cause it’s Sky’s footsteps, and Wind likes Sky.

“Whatcha got there?” the chosen asks the sailor, plopping himself down next to him with feet dangling over the edge of the cliff. His attention seems more fixated on the water below than the skies above.

“I’m mapping the stars,” Wind starts, absentmindedly tapping his pointer finger on his pen, “I just don’t get why it feels off!”

Sky peels his eyes from the water and peeks over at his map, scanning it. “It looks like Time’s map, is that it?”

Wind’s finger goes still as his eyes widen, slowly turning to Sky. He… said it like it was so obvious, so normal. But- “That can’t be right,” the sailor looks back at the paper, “there’s no way that’s right!”

Sky tilts his head, still infuriatingly clueless. “Why not?”

“Because!” Wind throws his head back in a defeated manner, “if that is right, then why would all the others have different looking stars? It makes no sense!”

“I…guess?” Sky just responds, clearly not following the conversation as much as Wind would like him to. That’s ok, sure, annoying , but it’s ok.

“I’m just… so confused, Sky. About everything,” Wind says quietly, solemnly. Why is he here? Why is he the only one without the Hero’s Spirit? Why do Time and Warriors still look down on him? There’s so many questions and just…

No answers.

And so he leans into Sky, nestling himself under his arm, letting himself feel the warmth of another person who also does not understand.

Another person who's just tired after walking all day. Another person who just wants to sleep in the shade.

Maybe it’s okay to feel this way. Maybe he should embrace it.

Bring one medium sized pot to a boil.

There's been a lot at once, Wild thinks, for everyone. They don't particularly care about everyone else, but they do care how it affects them. Legend is just plain annoying and hindering at points. He’s constantly on Wild’s ass about what’s safe for the group as a whole, and seems to have no sense of how to effectively kill. Does that moronic veteran even want to kill the monsters he fights?

Add salt to the water to taste.

Twilight seems to want to take care of them, but ends up showing it more as a need to protect everyone. It’s lame, Wild isn't an animal, they aren't going to be letting anyone command them like Link did.

As the water boils, shred cheese, cut bacon and green onions.

And speaking of command, Warriors is an outright prick. He wants everything to go right without the means to make that happen. Skirmishes and fights aren't about planning, it's about reacting. Wild thinks any good warrior should know that, he disrespects his namesake.

Cook the macaroni noodles. Strain it, but keep some of the water for flavor.

Wind- is nice. He can be a little overactive but otherwise respects Wild’s space.

Return macaroni to the pot, add cheese, bacon, milk, flour, and butter.

Sky is okay too. Sky likes his tea and always asks for seconds during meal time.

Stir on low heat.

Hyrule is always too anxious, too nervous. They can tell he will make a good- no, better fighter if he just stops being a pussy.

Once melted nicely together, scoop into bowls.

Four is just.. Weird. It’s a gamble on if Wild likes him at the current time. But they mostly find him annoying. Mostly.

Serve with green onions on top.

Time… Wild has little thoughts on Time. they don’t interact much. That’s okay, Wild doesn’t want any new friends anyways.

Once everything is prepared, so nice and pretty, so perfect and pristine, Wild claps their hands together. They can’t say it’s dinner time, and this is the closest they’re gonna get. Did Link ever call people to dinner? If so, did he ever use his voice? It would be really nice to be able to now.

But everyone else gets the signal, they all understand the meaning, even Sky and Wind off by the cliff. Those two understand them the most. It’s fascinating. Sometimes Wild doesn't need to use sign for those two to understand them,

Those two just get them.

Maybe that’s okay.

No, don’t let them in. They’ll die, they both will die. You don’t want that.

And with that thought, everyone gets their bowl. Some deliver confused looks, which makes sense. Wild did make this recipe, this is their food child. Some of them haven't even seen cheese! The disgrace! How could that be? Cheese is such a wonderful food.

Wild ignores the intense confusion that’s palpable within the group’s chatter as they inspect the food, some question if it's a soup. Of course it’s not a soup! If Wild wanted it to be a soup they’d make the cheese sauce more of a liquid. Idiots, the lot of them. If nobody else wants to take a taste of his delightful creation first then they will!

So they do, Wild lowers his fork and scoops up some of the macaroni noodles, enjoying the scent of creamy cheese and perfectly cooked noodles mixed with a hint of bacon as they do. Their mouth is watering as the cheese sauce’s thickness perfectly holds onto the noodles, and right into their mouth.

Oh such cheesy, dairy filled perfection. It oozes over their tongue as they chew and a reluctant smile embraces their face. Amazing, perfection, cheese and bacon with the right touch of that oniony flavor that just meld together. It’s like comfort in a bowl.

Wild is so glad they made enough for seconds, and even leftovers.

And then, suddenly, Sky takes a bite.

Wind takes a bite.

Time takes a bite.

Hyrule takes a bite, and Legend follows.

Four and Warriors take a bite.

Twilight takes a bite.

Everyone takes a bite.

And it’s nice.

For a few minutes, there's serenity. A quiet calm that washes over Wild as they watch everyone eat their food that they made for everyone. Did they make it for everyone, or is it because the rest of them are culinary disasters? Wild… isn't sure. They’ve been thinking weird lately, like things might be okay. Like things could be okay.

No, NO IT’S NOT SHUT UP SHUT UP-

Let them have this, this is nice. They deserve this! Hyrule stops eating, fear on his face.

No they dont, they don't deserve this. They can’t deserve this. Legend stops eating, checking on Hyrule.

Yes they do! Twilight stops eating. His eyes go wide and he drops his bowl and fork and stands up.

Every time they’re around something bad happens. It happens every time! Twilight starts running off into the forest after something, someone. “Midna!” He yells after it.

Let them have one good thing, one nice moment with everyone! “It- Daf-” Hyrule mutters out, straining to find his voice. “It’s-”

Why? So they can be a greedy bastard trying to find an unknown solace? They’re a fucking moron! Suddenly Four freezes up, looking in the opposite direction of Twilight. Grabbing his sword, he jumps over the pot and unsheaths it.

Please… please… “Daffodil!” Legend yells, too late, too late. There's already a panic. Time is running after Twilight, followed by Warriors and Sky. But it’s too late, Twilight has already morphed into a wolf and is greatly outspeeding the three.

Don’t they get it? All of this is happening because of them. Legend curses aloud, running after Four, the Four who’s sword flashes bright. It’s colorful, bright. And then there’s three. What? A Purple Four runs ahead. “Vio your a fucking moron!” the Blue Four yells. Legend doesn’t stop, running after the Purple Four.

That can’t be right. They- Wind is unsure of what to do, his head swivels back and forth between the two separating groups. Then his eyes land on Hyrule, still frozen in shock. Then on Wild, still half in a trance with a conversation of their own worth.

They simply are a curse. And they do nothing to stop what happens because of it. And it seems Wind decides to stay.

Wild knows this. And it hurts.

Chapter Text

Her hair is unmistakable, the way it sways as she runs away, it leads him away. But he runs, paws against the dry soil. He needs to see Midna again. Twilight needs to keep up. He knows this is wrong, that there are going to be consequences.

His hair is swirling in the wind, just like it used to. But now it’s longer, there’s so much more to thread between his fingers. Vio wants to hold his hand, to hold his face. He needs to know Shadow is real, tangible. He’s tired of thinking about consequences.

He knows where this path leads, he knows who he met there, he knows the caves and the vines and the vision.

He doesn’t know where this path leads, he doesn’t know why Shadow is here now, he doesn’t know these trees or the grass or the land.

But despite that, he leaves his team, he has to do this alone.

But despite that, he leaves his team, he has to do this alone.

Twilight enters the cavern. He passes that threshold knowing what’s in here, what happened here. He hates this spring, the water, the vines, the enclosed space. He hates how his boots leave this reverberating echo with each step he takes.

He hates Lanayru springs with a burning passion.

Every time he goes there he just… remembers that vision. Interlopers. Figures that look like himself but aren’t. They were just something to… to… Something familiar to Twilight to prove a point.

Anyone can fall into that trap, including Twilight.

Including Hylia’s Hero.

But he chases after Midna anyways, he passes that threshold. There’s no going back from the choice he’s made.

Her hair is right there, right there, the brilliant orange-red hair only matched by the sheer perfection of twilight lights.

And it’s getting closer, closer, so close.

And that hair’s color melts away, grabbing his face, hard, and throwing him into the rocky wall. He can’t breath, what just-

Vio has to move faster, more swift, more agile. He doesn’t know what he will find when Shadow finally stops to just talk to him. To just exist with him.

But he also has to question why. Maybe there’s a complication with the timeline being out of whack? That could be the case, but even then without the Dark Mirror, without a source of dark energy Shadow shouldn’t exist.

And yet, there he is. Running away, away, away.

Until his steps start to slow, and the sobbing starts.

Shadow is crying.

And Vio jumps onto his back, embracing his perfect reflection in a warm hug they both have been needing for so, so long.

There’s blood dripping down Twilight’s neck, getting caught up in his hair. What was Midna – what mimicked his beloved – now fades to a form unfamiliar, unknown. It’s darker, devoid of color and hue. It’s like there’s nothing but everything at the same time.

The figure’s hair lets go of it’s grasp on Twilight’s skull. Long braids that work as their own limb in sync with the body it’s attached to. Twilight slides down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud that echoes in the cave..

Everything is spinning. His head is throbbing.

“My~ I expected that to work but…” The figure grasps a chuck of hair on the top of Twilight’s head with it’s actual hand this time. “...Using your wolf form, even? It’s almost comedic~!” It coos in a venomous way.

Vio holds Shadow’s form tightly, keeping his arms locked in a vice grip around his chest. Hearing him cry, and feeling his presence, his person again fills Vio with a form of emotion he thought he would never experience again. Yet, here it is, that reverberating warmth in his chest and the heat filling his face.

“It’s okay, my sunless love…” Vio whispers out, nuzzling his head in the crook of Shadow’s neck. He even smells good, but his pulse is high. That’s not good, he’s still panicking.

“Vio- I-” Shadow sobs out, bringing his hands up to hold onto Vio’s arms. “You shouldn’t have split, I- You’re not suppose to- I’m not suppose to-”

Twilight tries to find the will to resist the upwards pull, but everything hurts. His back aches and his skull.. His skull might be fractured. The air won’t enter his lungs. Everything hurts…

“Cmon. Say something. ” It scoffs. “You always were one of the more pathetic ones but-” The figure scowls, picking Twilight up by his hair, inspecting his face. It grabs his chin, claws digging into his flesh. “-I expect more.”

Twilight is powerless, his arms barely move when told to, he can feel blood dripping down his back, down his chin. This figure is inspecting his face, tracing his facial markings, smirking as if remembering someone.

Is he.. Is he pathetic?

Shadow forces himself from Vio’s grip, stumbling a few steps away from him. “I should.. I should go before I get in trouble.” He says with so much sorrow, so much fear.

Vio can’t let him go after hearing that.

“Wait, Shadow!” Vio calls, pleads, “Please just.. Tell me what's going on. I want to help you.”

“...I’m too pathetic to be helped.”

“No wonder you never saved Ilia.” The figure smiles, the scar on his lips splitting into a second smirk, “Not like it matters if I tell you or not. You’re too self righteous to change your own fate. ”

Ilia? Wait-

“That scar-” Twilight finally, finally manages to push out words. “-That’s Hyrule’s- What did you do to him?”

The figure’s smile drops. It almost gazes at Twilight in pity. With one hand, It grabs Twilight’s sword out of his sheath and drops him with the other. His vision flickers from the pain, black spots threatening to pass out from the impact on his wounds. Twilight refuses to go unconscious, reaching for his pouch, for healing. He can figure out his no weapon issue later-

His hand grasps around where he usually hooks his bag on hit belt but-

It’s not there.

Everything hurts.

Vio steps forward to place a hand on his shoulder, turning Shadow to face him. He needs to see his face.

And he does.

Shadow’s face is tearstained and tired. There’s bags under his eyes, eyes that are only half open. Suddenly, his Shade’s shoulders relax under his hand, followed by the rest of his body.

Shadow falls into Vio’s arms.

“What happened to you..?” Vio murmurs, slowly maneuvering the two of them to sit on the ground.

“Dark he-” Shadow breathes out. “I don’t know what he’s doing. He- he’s planning something! Like.. with some Goddess or something? Fuck if I get it.” He groans, finally taking another breath. “And every time I say something wrong he-”

Shadow’s eyes go wide as a whimper exit’s his mouth.

“What did he do?” Vio asks with a deathly serious tone.

“Usually he.. Stabs me but I’m fine!” Shadow waves his hand defensively. “I can’t die unless you do so. It just hurts a lot.”

“Hyrule simply didn’t understand the rules to trying to kill your own Shade.” The figure tosses Twilight’s sword in the air. “Clearly you don't either. Sad. I expect more.”

It catches the sword one final time, turning to face Twilight who's still trying and failing to get off the ground. It doesn’t matter if he struggles, he thinks to himself, he's probably dead either way. The figure is approaching him now, his own sword in hand.

It grabs his arm, yanking it out palm up. The blade, the sharp blade, is pressed against his lower arm.

“Now watch, because I wont demonstrate again to pathetic, moronic, babbling idiots like you. ”

Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the figure cuts down on Twilight's left arm. The fresh blood, crimson. His flesh being rend. Nerves are screaming at him, but His grasp is too strong, unimaginably so.

But on the figure’s right arm, the one holding Twilight in place, a cut almost mirroring his own starts to ooze black blood despite no blade being there. But it seems lesser, almost like it's not as deep as Twilight’s own.

And then the cutting stops. The figure removes the blade and gently lays it down next to Twilight, edge still covered in his blood.

Then it turns its back, walking away from Twilight.

And finally, whether it be adrenaline or the anger or the need for more answers, Twilight grabs the blade and charges at the figure.

“Wait- Stabs you? And what do you mean you can't die unless I do?” Vio’s mouth gaps open in awe, confusion, and anger all at the same time.

“Yea that’s kinda how Shades work. ” Shadow says matter of factly. “Didn’t you know that?”

“No?!” Vio stands up and starts pacing, he needs to think. “Okay so, this Dark, I assume the other Shadowy figure following us-”

“-Shade.”

“Okay fine the other Shade” Vio rolls his eyes. This is the first time he’s heard about this kind of species. “Are in league with a.. Goddess?”

“Yep.”

“And you can’t die die without me dying?” Vio ends.

“Yep.”

“Shadow. Din give me strength how the fuck does that work?”

“Cause I’m your shade, duh!”

“Duh isn’t an answer.”

“Well everyone has a Shade. I’m yours! We literally live and die together. Usually we just aren’t sentient.” Shadow taps his skull. “Usually we just need dark magic to gain that, but you knew that!”

“No I didn’t.” Vio scowls, tired of being unable to get the right information out of his boyfriend

“You’re so fuckable when you’re angry~”

And then, no more talking was had. Vio was done with it. Kissing seemed like a much more fun option and he needs to shut Shadow up somehow.

Shield first, sword at the ready, muscles primed to lodge his blade directly into the figure’s chest. It’s right there, no guard, open, and Twilight is going to fucking kill it before any more harm comes to the rest of his friends.

And then, with godlike speed, It turns around. The blade, aimed for its chest, now lodged in its hand.

There’s a sharp stabbing in Twilight’s palm, then a moment of quiet.

Then the situation finally registers in his brain.

There’s a gaping hole in his hand.

And the figure is gone.

Chapter Text

Hyrule remembers what it’s like to feel alone. He remembers running away again and again from monsters and people alike. It’s an unsettling feeling he grew accustomed to all his life, for seventeen years.

And then, he saved Zelda, the current princess.

His whole world changed overnight. He was welcomed into the castle as the Hero of Hyrule, despite his lineage and curse. He discovered soft blankets and doors and rugs. He discovered what having four walls and a roof felt like, and how it felt to be admired and beloved.

He was so confused, and a little bewildered. Not to mention, Hyrule was mad.

Where was this… this comfort all his life? Why was he the only one in the whole fucking kingdom of Hyrule to get the treatment he did? Why was he the only one to step the hell up when it was in danger?

Why does he love his home so, even when his home hated him? When his home does hate him.

Even now, people still fear him for his curse, for his blood. Even now his past still haunts him, ruins him, follows him. Why can’t he get away, why can’t he follow that life of comfort and love he threw away for yet another adventure to save yet another Zelda.

…Is that okay?

Should he lament his desire to redo everything? Is it selfish to not want to be the Hero?

He’s saved so many people, so many lives because of his actions. If he went back, redid it all without his curse. If he didn’t save everyone…

What would happen to all of those people?

And why does he still love them?

Is it his fault that everyone is split up again? Last time it was because of him, and again now. It’s his past following him, that darkness following him. Why is Wind pushing him to drink water, and Wild making sure his bowl of food stays warm. Don’t they get it?

And yet the world still seems so far away.

Legend’s current status? Drafting a pretend letter to Ravio to keep himself sane.

Dear my Bunloved,

I am so fucking tired of hero shit. Hylia strike me down. I am currently dodging three colorful dopples of the Hero of the Four Sword. Why? Because the other Four decided he wanted to chase after one of the dark shadow creatures we've been stalked by.

We can’t even eat in peace anymore. Or in one piece for that matter, in Four’s case.

I personally just want to enjoy a nice meal after hiking through an unknown time before being bombarded by other’s past relationship issues with creatures from dark worlds. Although, who am I to argue.

Oh right, my beloved shadowy counterpart is actually a half decent person when he isn't trying to price gouge me for saving his world.

However, for now I will be running after this purple bastard (not you, sadly) and being screamed at by the rainbow brigade. One of them has a fire rod so I’m somewhat inclined to pay attention.

Love across time, Link

“Legend get the fuck back here before I pummel you into the ground!” The blue one yells, hauling a hammer with two hands as he leads the charge.

“Ignore him Legend, he's upset with Vio, not you~!” The red one hollers, following directly after the blue one.

“Why should I stop? So you can meet up with your fourth and the shadow?” Legend yells, vaulting over a fallen log. “You’re all untrustworthy if you ask me!”

And then on top of him, the green one lands from above, having jumped over everyone in a way Legend has only seen by the usage of a Roc feather and Pegasus boots. While Four is relatively light, even Twilight might have been knocked over with the kind of force that hit the veteran’s poor back.

“Legend, stand down!” the green one says with a practiced authority. “We’ll explain, but you need to stop.”

The blue and red ones caught up, slowing down and standing behind the green one to back him up, but they didn't surround Legend, nor did they hold a sword to him or force a surrender. Logically, Legend has a choice to leave or not, to force the Four off of him and run away again.

But there is a certain trust placed in him that Legend wasn’t expecting from them, from Four. He never placed any trust in Four, and yet here he- they are. The last person to really extend an olive branch like this was-

Ravio.

“Fine-” Legend grunts as he pushes the green one off of him. He lays his hand on his lower back and arches against his palm, an audible crack ringing out and a nice wave of relief crashing over him. “-But kick me to the ground like that and I will kick you to an early grave.”

“Alright alright!” The green one sheaths his sword, lifting a placating hand. “I do suppose reintroductions are in order, however.” He gestures to the red and blue ones. “It’s pretty self explanatory. This is Red and Blue, and I’m Green. Vio chased after Shadow.”

Legend suddenly feels less bad for calling them all the green, blue, or red ones now.

“Well, I’m Link, but you can call me Legend,” the veteran responds with his usual level of snark and sass. “Does this Vio have beef with Shadow or some shit?”

Red starts giggling uncontrollably and avoiding eye contact, earning himself a quick slap upside the head from Blue who actually answers a question, “No. It’s more the opposite.”

Legend raises a brow. “Lovers?”

The Colors share a few looks between them. Blue’s expression is one of annoyance, maybe a bit of displeasure with the implications (or reality) of the relationship Vio and Shadow have. Red seems to be happy about it, a small smile growing on his face as he shuffles his feet around. But there’s an underlying air of anxiety with the upbeat version of Four. Green doesn’t seem to quite have any opinions on the matter, as far as Legend can parse from his outward appearance. Overall, the silence all but confirms Legend’s query.

“That makes a lot of sense, then,” Legends murmurs aloud, regaining the attention from the other three. “I suppose that’s why you didn’t say anything about that shadow in the first place.”

“Yea.” Green scratches the back of his neck nervously. “We really should have said something sooner, but it’s not exactly easy to tell people one fourth of Four as a person loves the dark shadowy counterpart that tried to help take over Hyrule.”

“And to explain that-” Red butts into the conversation, raising his pointer finger- “We’d have to explain the Four Sword! That’s a very touchy subject!”

Blue rolls his eyes, venom lacing his words. “Usually we all agree to talk about these types of things, but Vio decided to just go commando. Prick.”

Legend starts to mull everything over as the Colors bicker among themselves. It certainly makes sense in hindsight, Four’s behavior that is. Maybe he was too quick to judge him, or them. Legend admits to himself that maybe he really was just afraid of getting close.

He looks at Blue, headlocking Red and ruffling his hair. Green, who's trying to consider the next course of action, unbothered by the actions of those surrounding him. They all work together so well, but still feel like they’re missing something. Then Legend notes how all three of them still have that hole in the armor Four got.

And suddenly, it kinda makes sense how Four got that injury.

He’s used to working as a team.

And he went off alone to save Rule despite that.

Legend realizes he kinda likes Four.

Sky runs behind Time and Warriors, trying to breathe while keeping up with the brutal pace they set. He understands the urgency, they need to find Twilight, to find The Shadow.

But Sky is struggling, and Twilight (apparently a wolf now) is fast, long out of sight by now. He’s not sure if they’re on the right track anymore.

He can feel the air rush past his dry, cracked lips with each wheezing breath. He can’t fill his lungs enough, the air feels too heavy and the ambient humidity doesn’t help. The surface air is so thick, it hurts. Sky can taste blood in the back of his mouth.

But he has to keep going.

Zelda it hurts…

“Time, slow down!” Warriors yells at the hero ahead of both of them with a hushed sense of urgency.

Time does slow to a stop, but with an annoyed reluctance in his body language that makes Sky flinch slightly. “Why? I’m on the trail his tracks are right there-”

“There’s blood,” Warriors cuts off the older hero. “I smell blood.”

Sky wants to make some joke about how he’s been tasting blood for the past few minutes, but knows it’s not the time.

Time grimaces as he sniffs the air in an almost animal-like way. He closes his eyes tight, turning his head back to the direction he was heading. 

All three reach for weapons, preparing for the worst. Preparing to fight whatever hurt Twilight.

Slowly, they inch forward once more. It's a more cautious speed than an outright sprint, something Sky is appreciative of.

What he doesn't appreciate is the open mouth of a cave and the sight of a half conscious Twilight in a pool of his own blood.

Chapter Text

Legend was eventually convinced by the rainbow brigade to wait for their missing member. Which, in all honesty, didn't take too long.

But this Vio and Shadow guy definitely did more than just talk. He reeks of that post explicates smell.

As Vio steps through the bushes, bow looped around his body with a subtle expression of guilt, Red springs onto him with a hug.

“ Vio~! ” Red exclaims, upbeat and cheery before switching to a more serious, disappointed tone. “Don't do that again.”

“I'm sorry I-” Vio starts, gently shoving Red off of him before continuing. “I just needed to be sure he was alive. ”

“Wait, was he dead? ” Legend interjects. “Because if we have something reviving dead things that's a bigger issue.”

Green nods slightly pinching his chin, assumingly thinking about it for a moment. “As much as I'd like to question… everything, I think it's better if we do it with everyone present.”

There's a unanimous nod and hums of agreement, including from Legend. It's smart, practical, and Legend hates repeating himself.

“Should we rejoin?” Blue offers to the other Colors, reaching for his sword.

“No!” Green yells, grabbing Blue’s arm and physically stopping him. “I- I'm not mentally prepared…” He finishes, glancing at Vio.

“Aww…” Red pouts. 

Blue yanks his arm away from Green. “Chill, we can't if we all don't want to anyways!”

“Relax, it was as vanilla as it gets.” Vio protests and starts walking back to camp. “But I won't force it on you, leader .”

And so, the rainbow brigade: complete edition starts heading back to camp, leaving Legend thinking.

Is everyone who wears purple a kinky bastard?

The need to maintain control suddenly subdues itself like the disbursement of a forlorn fog. Before Warriors is a comrade, dying in a pool of his own crimson blood. It hurts everytime, each soldier he’s had to send home in a body bag due to his own commands, whether it be for a victory that blesses the kingdom amidst a war of uncertainty, or a brutal loss. Each and every death he has ever tried to forget now floods back into his mind.

Warriors has always been the one issuing the command of fight or flee.

He feels the stone ground scrap against his shin guards as his body rushes on its own to Twilight's side. His mind is elsewhere as Time and Sky search their persons for their bags, a terrifying realization that both are still at the camp. Warrior’s body unclips his own pouch, handing it to Time who is now with him leaning over Twilight’s half conscious body.

Warriors know he always has to come prepared, he stays prepared. It’s a matter of life or death if he’s prepared or not.

Twilight’s eyes are nearly closed, using what Warriors can assume is every last ounce of energy in the man’s body to stay awake as he waves a hand over his face. There’s too much going on, too many unknowns at stake right now to lose someone this early.

Time searches for a potion, uncorking it as Warriors watches his hands lift up Twilight’s head, feeling the sensation of both dried and wet blood in his dirty locks, it’s grueling, disgusting, an abhorrent experience nobody else should bare. His eyes check over the rest of the farmboy’s body, a hole in his hand, a cut on his arm. Something happened here, and the captain begins to blame himself.

“Sky, bandage his hand!” His own voice commands. He watches Sky clamor to the ground, getting bandages from the captain’s pouch. He watches as the chosen lifts Twilight’s hand, holding it in his lap as blood drips from the gaping wound into his clothing. Delicately, as told, Sky wraps the wound. He wraps it thickly, over and over and over until his whole hand is wound in a cast-like bundle of bandage.

And for a moment, Warriors doesn’t see his comrades from across time, he sees soldiers in helmets surrounded by medical staff. His surroundings morph as beige tenting material block out the sky and new people screaming from injuries are being hauled in from behind tarps. Doctors and nurses are yelling for help, holding down a convulsing soldier in the middle of a seizure. Strapping him down with spare sheets and belts.

He shakes his head, closing his eyes tight as he attempts to ignore the outside world. All that matters is Mask teetering on life and death. Ignore Tune being dragged out of the tent by Impa, ignore the screams of his soldiers that he commanded, ignore his mistakes and his misgivings that caused this.

“Warriors!” Mask’s voice rings out, causing him to open his eyes. 

Before Warriors is the boy forced into a war across time. Half his face is covered in bloody bandages from a wound his captain should have taken. But his other eye, the uninjured one, is wide open, staring at him.

“Wars, we need you!”

Reality snaps. He’s transported back into the present with Twilight still resting on his lap and Time shaking his shoulder. Sky is staring at him for orders, for direction.

And Twilight is bandaged up because he made everyone slow down.

“We need to move him back to camp. Potions aren’t doing enough and we don’t have a fairy with us.” Time’s words feel like they’re echoing in his head. The ringing hurts his ears

Warriors nods, gently lifting and passing Twilight’s shoulders to Time as Sky hoists his legs up.

He feels useless.

Rustling bushes alert Hyrule to the returning of half of the runaway chain. Thankfully, this gives him something to focus on besides, well, nothing. Finally he can rein in that trail of thought causing his anxiety.

Time and Sky are carrying Twilight while Warriors leads. Carrying him. Carrying Twilight. Injured Twilight. The same Twilight who stands firm and is Hylia-bent on protecting everyone.

“Wind, get his bedroll and lay it out. Wild I need you to make one of those elixirs” The captain starts barking out commands. There’s a bravado in his voice, but it’s lacking something.

Twilight is hurt.

Wind rushes over to Twilight’s pack, quickly unveiling the rancher’s rather fluffy bedroll and unfurls it with one quick up and down motion. Time and Sky lower Twilight gently, Wind slipping a pillow under his head before it hits the ground. It feels practiced, the fluidity of the motions seem too practiced. Doesn’t matter, right now, Hyrule concludes and gets up to figure out how he can help.

Well. he knows how he can help, but he also knows how people usually get when he uses his magic.

Hyrule kneels next to Twilight who's fighting to stay awake. His eyes are sunken as his gaze shifts over to view the new visitor. Dry cracked lips quiver a bit in an attempt to say anything that can calm Hyrule, but…

Twilight is hurt.

Extending a hand, he stretches out his latent magic and prods around inside and out with an invisible aura. Bones, ribs, one broken. Skull, cracked, unstable, attempts to heal. Arm, cut, flesh rend, clotting difficulties. Hand-

“Hyrule we need to bandage him please move!”

His hand-

Twilight’s hand in the same as his-

His-

Closing his eyes and ignoring Time’s attempts to move him, Hyrule pushes past the memory fogging his judgment. He fights the fear freezing him from the inside, and with a flurry of pinkish magic spurting, spouting from his fingertips…

Hyrule casts a spell.

Under the bandages through a magical sensation, Hyrule can see flesh regrow and intertwine over bone. Blood vessels reforming and aligning themselves as they branch out like roots. He feels the form of what was once a massive gap now scaring over with a brilliant glow.

His attention is changed to Twilight’s head, his fractured skull. Hyrule can't repair the brain, that is up to the body, but magically he can mend the cracks that have formed in the skull.

Then Hyrule's world starts turning.

Cutting off his magic, he brings his hands to his mouth before scurrying behind a bush and throwing up the half digested meal from less than an hour prior. Bile, cheese, and a sickening dizziness from his quickly emptied magic reserves cause tears to form in His eyes as suddenly Legend appears behind him, offering a comforting back rub and holding back some stray hairs.

“When did you-” Hyrule breathes out, followed by another stream of bile.

Legend just keeps rubbing his back in a soothing, comforting way. “Just got back. Had to check on my soon to be great nephew-in-law.” He whispers back.

“I'll… I’ll ruin you.” Hyrule gags out with a soft smirk. “We aren’t planning on getting married anyways.”

“Well get yourself cleaned up and I'll get you a green potion, I think Warriors is about to go full military captain on us” Legend says.

Hyrule wipes his mouth with his sleeve and looks over his shoulder. Time is checking Twilight's now scared hand, Multiple Fours are gathered at the edge of camp, Wild is minding their own business making bottling healing elixirs, Wind and Sky are sitting together on a log with equal amounts of anxiety on their faces.

And Warriors is holding his hair in balled fists, knuckles white and anger.

“We need to talk. Now. ”

Chapter Text

Wind finds himself sitting next to Warriors, rubbing his land captain’s lower back. He’d never admit it, but Wind knows Wars likes the physical touch in times of stress.

It’s a tension worse than Gran catching him wandering a little too close to the forest on Outset. Or even that one time he tried to stowaway on a trade ship. She was furious that time around, and Wind couldn’t bare to look sweet ol’ Gran in the face for weeks after that.

But no, between Warriors and Time alone, the tension is enough to drown in. Truly, everyone seems to be at their breaking point, which is fair, really. These past few days have been nothing but awful!

“We’ll start with Four-” Warriors starts in a tone that makes Wind snap his posture up into a straight, upright, sitting position. “-While now your namesake makes sense I do need to ask why you went after that creature.”

The blue Four (who honestly looks very angry himself) puts a hand on the purple one’s shoulder (who seems even more mad, but in a hidden kinda way). The green one speaks for the group. “Well, in one of our adventures, Shadow helped us ultimately defeat Ganon. We were under the assumption that he was… Dead. ” He pauses, glancing behind his shoulder at the purple one. “Vio in particular was rather excited to see him again.”

Warriors narrows his eyes into a glare making Wind diverts his gaze. “So, you mean to tell me this dark creature is a past ally of yours?”

“Yes.”

“And yet it’s in league with the other Shadow?”

The blue Four is now putting more effort into keeping Vio back, the Red one hushing him silently.

“Shadow is not an ‘It’, Warriors. He is a valuable ally, one we all missed dearly.” The green one half snarls, clearly trying to keep it together. “And, I think Vio is more able to answer that question.”

“Green, I don’t think Vio should-” The red one starts to plead before being cut off by Vio stepping forward a bit.

“Shadow is a victim of circumstances.” He begins with arms crossed behind his back. “By no means does he wish harm upon us as heroes. However, his mere presence is sustained by an artifact bestowed upon him he has oh so graciously dubbed the Darkforce.”

The rest of the crew begin to respond in a crashing uproar, yelling and screaming words and curses alike in response to whatever the fuck a Darkforce is. Wind shrinks in his spot as Time’s tapping speeds up a few milliseconds, as he can see Warrior’s tunic bunching up as he clutches the fabric in a fist. Sky’s eyes go wide and Legend is screaming over Hyrule trying to kindly ask him to sit back down. Blue (going by the naming of the other Fours, Wind assumes this is his name) is yelling back at Legend, telling him to also ‘sit the fuck down’.

The mere idea of a shadowy alternative of the holy golden relic is tipping the crew over their breaking points for a moment.

“What do you mean there's a fucking Darkforce ? There are only two Triforce and I am not doing this again!” Legend screams at Vio, pointing a finger at the relatively calm version of Four. “Explain what the fuck that is, Din give me strength I will strangle you! ”

Green steps between Vio and Legend, shoulders back and chin up, hand on hilt. “He was getting to that.”

Hyrule pulls down a huffing Legend, letting Vio continue. “As I was saying. This Darkforce was a gift bestowed upon another Shade, called Dark. A fraction was given to Shadow, so that he may help Dark.” His eyes drift down a bit before fluttering back up. “Shadow is at the mercy of Dark, for if he decided, Shadow can cease to exist as a physical entity. Simply put, the Darkforce is being used as a catalyst for Shadow to maintain form.”

“Is the same true of Dark?” Time arches an eyebrow.

“I have to assume so, based on his wishy-washy explanation.” Vio responds with a shake of his head. “We didn’t have much time and Shadow isn't exactly married to the idea of clarity.”

Warriors pinches the bridge of his nose, still leaking frustration. “So our only lead on all of this is a spy who can’t even relay information. Fantastic.”

‘It could be worse,’ Wild signs with one hand and a half shrug, three bottled elixirs held between their other hand’s fingers as they kneel next to Twilight. ‘We could have no information. Now we have a target. Two if you count this Goddess.’

“They have a point.” Legend muses, crossing his arms. “But this Goddess figure can wait for now, I think whatever powers that Darkforce can possess is more important.” He shifts his weight and crosses his legs. “I have a feeling knowledge is power in this fight, and so far we’re losing.”

“I wholeheartedly agree, Legend. However,” Time pauses to stand up and look across the crewmembers, meeting each in the eye before pausing on the many Fours. “There are still yet secrets we keep from each other. I think we should discuss that first.”

The colors shift uncomfortably in their spots, Red looks to the ground in a deep shame while Blue tenses up, ready to defend the rest. Green stands tall, but still has that nervous energy to him while Vio just barely lowers his head.

Others show discomfort too, Legend leans forward and props his head on his hands while Hyrule fidgets and scratches at his arm. Sky looks away into the surrounding forests, Wild just continues treating Twilight. Wind himself tugs at Warrior’s cape, unsure of  what else to do. It’s right there, and it's comforting in a way.

Not like his comfort matters right now.

“We’re the Hero of the Four Sword.” Green starts, quietly at first but building up confidence as his words draw on, “We are the same person, essentially. Different parts of Four. But, in a way  we are also our own different people with different connections to things.”

“We also have a cool little artifact from Ezlo!” Red exclaims, reaching behind his head and holding out a golden feather amulet tied onto his hair tie. “See! But we’ve never used it while split, so we’re not sure what would happen.”

“Yea. That’s about it for us.” Green concludes.

Attention turns to Hyrule, who shrinks in response. Which is fair, Wind would too after basically revealing he functions as a walking fairy.

Hyrule gulps before speaking. “I have- uh, ahem.” not off to a great start but okay. “I’m part fae, know some spells, like Life which I used on Twilight.”

Wind blinks. The walking fairy part was supposed to be a joke.

“I uh-” Hyrule continues. “I know Fire, Thunder, Jump, Reflect and Shield, which I also used on Time in Warrior’s Kakariko.” He pushes his pointer fingers together. “So he didn’t get hurt by the explosion…”

There's a collective silence in the crew as everyone stares in awe (aside from Wild, who's paying more attention to Twilight) at the casual nature in which Hyrule just… mentions his amazing spellcasting ability.

sure, Wind can control the… wind, but compared to something like summoning a thunderbolt? Pitiful! Sure he had fire and bomb arrows, and he used to have light arrows before he used them all, but those are finite.

And Four?? Four's ability to just become multiple pairs of eyes and ears is… is… You could run a whole ship with four people! That's like being your own ship crew! And to be able to shrink like he says. The possibilities.

And all Wind can do is control the wind.

Maybe the others have a point, maybe he is the weakest.

Warriors clears his throat, breaking the silence. “And I assume we've all put together Twilight can change into a wolf long before now.”

Everyone nods in unison, humming in agreement and “yes”s of confirmation.

“Then we can move on. Legend, you seem to have a vast knowledge of various topics. Do you know who this mysterious Goddess could be?”

Legend hums, tapping his foot. “In a parallel world, Lorule, a Goddess by the name of Lolia is worshiped.” He shifts back in his seat. “She acts as a parallel version of Hylia, in a sense. But she's trapped in that separate realm and shouldn't have a connection here. If she did, we would have bigger issues.”

Vio raises a brow. “I briefly recall you talking about this Lorule before. As we've said we know of a Dark World, but that's it, frankly.” The violet color steps forward, “And if we assume our Dark Worlds are the same, what would we consider that in the grand scheme of things? Twilight Realm and Lorule included.”

“As far as my understanding of the Dark World and Lorule go,” Legend starts, “The Dark World is from when Ganon got his way into the Sacred Realm. Basically turning it into his own wretched place.” He exaggerates with a wide hand gesture. “Lorule, on the other hand, is a bit more like us here in Hyrule. They have different customs and beliefs but otherwise a similar history and their own Sacred Realm. It even has its own Triforce.”

“It's an opposite of Hyrule?” Sky says, more in tone like a statement than a question.

“I suppose that would make the Dark World an opposite in nature.” Vio concludes, a few puzzled glances latching onto him. “And I'd venture to assume this Twilight Realm is a distortion. But sadly our sole source of information on the topic is taking a deserved nap.”

“In a sense they’re all like mirrors of Hyrule.” Legend muses off in his own little world.

“Even then.” Hyrule mutters. “I'm not able to heal the brain, and there's a chance whatever hurt him that bad caused brain damage.”

“We can easily assume whoever causes that is Dark.” Green assumes aloud, “His power seems to be increased, much like the Moblins that attacked me and Hyrule.”

“Ooohgh, I don't wanna think about that again…” the traveler held his forehead. “It gives me a headache thinking about the amount of magic I used…”

Legend blinks, furrowing his brow in thought before speaking. “Wait. Is it fair to assume the Darkforce could be connected to the black blooded monsters?”

Time and Warriors share a scowl, glancing at each other. It makes sense to Wind, the portals have been vaguely triangle shaped, the stronger monsters only showing up where he can assume Dark has been. 

Legend might be onto something. But to be fair, he has been this whole time.

“Right.” Warriors announces in that unignitable tone of voice. “We need to find this Dark then. Currently, this Goddess holds less priority if her lacky is out slaughtering and creating a new army.” He pauses, looking at the Colors. “And I suppose that means we can save your friend too” he teases.

And, with that, the impromptu meeting is over. Nobody is thrown overboard, or overly scolded. nobody has been shaken awake or told off.

It was reasonable. Orderly. Which is weird to Wind.

Wild hands out leftover dinner, which they kept warm for everyone to finish. It was nice, to eat after that. Stress makes him hungry.

And then, Wind found himself laying in bed, not remembering when he got there. 

He misses the sound of seagulls and waves crashing. The rocking of a ship in the deep ocean waves. The way the wind carried the scent of sea salt. He misses the way Tetra fried fish on an open flame when they docked on an island. He misses the way she smiles when saying goodnight.

He misses when he only knew himself as the Hero. When his abilities seemed mystical to him. When he wasn't cursed with the knowledge of being comparatively weak.

What could the wind do against shapeshifting, or multiplication, or thunder, or-

Is Wind enough?

He misses Tetra.

Chapter Text

Shadow walks on the water near the shoreline. Perks of being a semi-incorporeal by nature is that he can deny physics to a certain degree. It drives Vio up the wall, but mostly because the workings of it are a mystery to him still.

It's the way he lets the bottom of his boots dip just under the surface of the water, sending ripples out from the impact of his steps. It soothes him, in a way. How the surface distorts Shadow's reflection in the otherwise mirror image of him. Stretching and morphing what is him into something that sorta isn't.

It's an entertaining way to distract himself from the conversation ahead of him at the meet up point. To distract himself from Dark, how mad he might be.

He managed to tell Violet darling everything. Over… other noises and words. In a way that made sense to both of them. Everything Dark has said, everything he learned and was told. Everything Shadow already knew. Everything Vio apparently didn't know.

Which is hard for Shadow to understand. Vio is so smart, and for him to not know something as basic as Shades? It's incomprehensible to him.

But it was nice being to know it all for a change.

And now, Shadow is going back to being the forced underling. Back to Dark.

Shadow looks up as he turns around a few trees that jut out from the shoreline, pushing branches out of the way and leaning over as he maneuvers under. On the other side, his eyes fixate on the taller shade. 

Dark.

He's hunched over, looking at his reflection in the water's surface. blood trickles down his arm, from his palm and into the water with a steady t rickle, trickle, trickle. Black dances in the upper layers of the lake, barely visible, and only so due to Shadow's natural night vision.

Ripples from Shadow's steps reach out, farther, farther, farther from the origin point. Cascading, flowing, rippling into the darkened waters, responding, Reflecting, changing shape as they interact. Waves, flows, cascades return back into Dark's view.

And he notices Shadow.

And Shadow notices he notices.

Shit.

The sound of what can only be described as unnatural crackling cut like steel through the silent air, Dark's back straightening as glowing eyes – one red, on white – turn to fixate on Shadow. fear trickles down his face in the form of tears, attempting to urge himself to move, please move . 

Yet his legs deny him.

Trickle trickle trickle.

Blood continues to drip into the lake, bleeding a path behind Dark with each creaking step. He's muttering, mumbling, sputtering words under his breath. Eyes unblinking, scars crossing his eye and mouth, jet black hair moved out of his face as he grips his head.

“insolent, idiotic. Pests that never learn. Pests that never let me die.” Dark growls in a low, foreboding tone. “stuck, Forever and ever and ever and ever.”

Dark spits and snarls in Shadow’s face as he finally gets within reach. Shadow can't close his eyes, tear away from his gaze, run away from the sheer fear gripping at his soul. He wants to run.

And yet his legs deny him.

“And yet for everything to end , to be done with , they need to learn.” Dark laughs a maniacal, horrifying laugh. “It's all so infuriating, maddening ! But most of all-”

Dark grabs him by the ponytail, lifting his feet off the ground, dangling, kicking, struggling.

“-You had everything and THREW IT AWAY!”

Chapter Text

There's a smell. A familiar smell. A nice smell. It smells like campfire smoke and spices, the kind Wind likes.

Was their name Wind? He knows it starts with a W.

Link knows he knows someone named Wind, but the idea of campfire and spices don't mesh in minds like he feels they should.

Whu.. Wee.. no, wait. Whaa-

Oh! Wild! That's their name!

Wild must be cooking food for everyone.

Link- no, Twilight, he's Twilight here. Right. Twilight can hear the voices of his fellow heroes as light filters in through his heavy eyelids. It's bright enough to be midday, did the rest of the pack not bother to wake him up? They need to catch The Shadow before they do anything else to anyone .

Especially in his home. In his era.

Twilight gives a weak, meager attempt to open his eyes. Immediately following the sun’s rays filtering through his lashes, a strikingly sudden headache draws a pained groan out of the rancher. He reaches for his forehead, another white flash of pain making itself known in his palm and forearm.

“He's waking up!” Four’s voice rings in his ears, abnormally panicked yet relieved when compared to his usual (lower) amount of outwards emotion. “Keep your arm down, you’re still recovering damnit.” Four continues, now sounding more stressed, more stoic?

And finally, Twilight manages to fight the pain and open his eyes.

He stares at Four, who stares at him, while Four looks between the two.

Wait, what?

Twilight furrows his brows and narrows his eyes, confused on why there are two Fours. Their armor is tinted a different color, red and blue. But before he can open his mouth to ask what kind of fever dream is this, Warriors kneels down next to him while another Four – green this time – pulls the other two away while scolding them.

“Wars..? Why are ‘ere s’ many..?”

“Twilight, I know you just woke up but we need to know what happened in that cave.” Warriors interrupts with that stern sense of what Twilight’s brain can only describe as ‘Captain’ right now.

“Wha.. We haven’ been to a cave?” They just got here yesterday.

The campsite immediately goes quiet, the general chatter filling the background that brought a nice warmth now subsiding.

And it leaves a chilling (somehow familiar) atmosphere that Twilight really, really doesn’t like.

“Twilight, what's that last thing you remember?” Time kneels down next to Warriors.

Comfort. That's what Time feels like right now. Like Rusl. Odd. But it's so cozy. Like Epona’s neck hugs.

Oh right, he was asked a question.

“Well, we wen’ through a portal an’ ended up in m’ era.” Twilight recalls aloud, struggling somewhat to remember the fine details. “It's.. durin’ my quest. Then we started settin’ up camp-”

He doesn't remember going to sleep.

When did he go to sleep?

Twilight scrambles to stand up, stopping in a hunched over sitting position. 

His world spins. There's a fog clouding the side of his vision as Time is quick to grab his shoulder to stop him from falling over. Reeling, curling, twirling everything is so…

“...What happened to me..?”

Time hands Twilight a plate. Grilled fish and some sort of fried potato sticks. “Eat while we explain, you need energy for your recovery.”

So he eats.

…

Twilight tries to retain the information he’s given. Four can split into four, Hyrule’s whole magic thing he kinda knew about, Dark and Shadow, the Darkforce (who named that??), a mysterious goddess and what condition he was found it.

Once he’s done with the food (Thank Spirits he was starving), Twilight finds himself tracing the scar on his palm.

Hyrule healed this with his magic, causing himself to throw up in the process. And a wound this size he would have definitely bled out if it wasn’t for him.

Twilight’s gonna have to thank him later.

Wild usually isn't one for conversation for fairly obvious reasons, but there's not much else to do and they can't focus on cooking with this pit in their stomach. The others keep asking them questions, anyway, and recently they’ve been less and less annoyed by the pestering. Maybe they’re growing accustomed to it, even.

It’s mostly Legend drilling annoying questions like ‘have you heard of a dark goddess?’ or ‘have you had any experience with a dark dopple of yourself?’. All of which they’ve answered no to, either out of truth or not to be a snitch.

Wild at least knows they quite enjoy the trust Wind and Sky have put into them. Makes them feel fuzzy inside.

They miss that fuzzy feeling, like one of Zelda’s hugs from the inside out. Now it just feels like Purah calling them ‘Linky~!’ in that weird, icky, gross high pitched tone. Or Revali from Link’s memories. A sinking pit and a weight on their shoulders paired with a fuzzy, confused mindset.

A lot of weird emotions and feelings are making Wild question things, recently.

‘Silently bear any burden’ their ass, Link. If Wild could talk, they’d be screaming their head off at everyone. Twilight for being an idiot and going off alone after a well defined threat, Four for keeping the whole Shadow thing to him.. Themselves? Legend for asking the same questions over again and Hyrule being an indescribable mess. 

Wind seems to take notice of Wild’s brooding, motioning for Sky to come over.

Not like it matters. One of them can die for all they care. Especially if it’s for moronic behavior like arguing in the middle of an arrow bombardment. Legend is too rigid, apparently, and Four didn't notch his arrows near quickly enough. Twilight actually did his job, but now that reliability is down with memory loss-

…

Sky sits down next to Wild, scooting close with a slightly concerned smile.

Just like Link, huh.

It’s then that Sky’s arms (when did he get here?) gently wrap around Wild’s narrows, stiff shoulders. There’s a pull, a pressure to lean into the hero (which they first resist, feeling encased, entrapped in something they weren’t too sure about, but then giving in, letting it happen.)

Besides, things tend to get decided for Wild, whether they like it or not. 

But then their head hits Sky’s chest.

And his heartbeat echoes in Wild’s head.

Suddenly, their shoulders relax and that pit goes away.

And there’s a warm, fuzzy feeling.

One that reminds Wild of Zelda’s hugs.

Chapter Text

Time is grateful for any amount of ignorance he can be blessed with. With his vast amount of knowledge and wisdom, a break from being a know-it-all is very welcome in his book.

Usually.

He would actually quite enjoy knowing why there's a portal in the middle of the campsite. He would also enjoy knowing who created this portal.

Between the startled yet hushed jumps from Hyrule, Red and Blue, to the tired, annoyed groans from Legend and Vio. From the sleeping trio of Sky, Wind and Wild waking up in various states of duress to Green's immediate hand on hilt reaction. From Twilight's hazy grumbles to Time and Warrior's glances to one another.

“We can’t just not go through it, right?” Green immediately questions, sharp, narrow eyes unmoving from the gaping maw of magic.

“I don't think it's wise,” Warriors idly taps his thumb against the hilt of his sword, “seeing as we can't see on the other side, a monster could very well step into our camp at any moment.”

As the Hero of Warriors himself checks on the rest of the chain – ensuring everyone is properly packed, alert and ready – Time shifts his focus over to something quite a deal more important.

“Twilight,” The older hero begins, reaching down to one of the precious Links in the chain, “can you walk?”

“Think so.” Simple question, simple response. Twilight leans forward, a clear grimace showing the pain the movement brings. But despite this, he is the sturdy sort. Time loops his hand under the injured hero's arm as his legs begin to shake under his own weight. It's what little support Time can offer. 

They simply can't afford to use every potion they have in hopes to speed up his recovery. After what happened with Four and Hyrule…

The horror still haunts Time's heart – among many others.

The fact his mistake made that happen. 

Time turns his attention to the present, a time he can change without magic and relics. He turns his attention to Twilight.

It’s very clear to him that the rancher is in no condition for extended travel. Time turns his attention to Warriors, catching his gaze and quietly gesturing him over.

“We’re lucky to make it a few steps past the portal with Twilight’s condition,” he catches up the captain in a hushed whisper, “but even so, nothing's come out of the portal yet. It might be from Hylia.”

Warrior's scowl sends a slight shiver down Time's spine, and he can feel his grip on Twilight tighten for a moment.

Only for a moment. Moments define everything.

“We must continue forward,” Warriors concludes and steps away, leaving further negotiation to the wayside.

Ensuring his grip is firm under Twilight’s armpit, Time starts leading his injured chain-link to the portal where everyone else is lined up and waiting.

The plan is to go at the same time, says Wars, but ensure Twilight is safe in the back incase of an ambush on the other side. It’s probably the best plan they’ll get for a situation like this, but it’s not in the slightest ideal.

Twilight will need rest, and Time can only hope and pray for some safety net on the other side of the time rift.

They step into the unknown, swirling and curling around them, pulling them in after that very first step.

—

Just south of Lake Hylia and the Cave of No Return, just north of the swamp, but still too far to get home and find a proper bed. Blue can’t help but let out the heavy sigh of annoyance.

He’s always been the more directionally inclined of the Colors, finding navigation much more simple with landmarks alone. It’s a feeling, an instinct, directions just speak to him despite the foliage covering the sky.

This is the forest Link played as a kid after all, how would he not recognize the trees of his youth, accidentally eating the mushrooms growing on that log and being bitten by one of the squirrels. 

Clearly Red doesn’t though. He starts walking headfirst to the nausea inducing mushroom before Vio grabs him by the chest strap. A smirk crosses Blue’s lips as the quiet scolding begins. Good to know he’s not the only one who gets that treatment from Vio.

The rest of the team starts filtering through the portal, Time and Twilight being the last. Blue can’t help but feel awful for them, being forced through this. 

Time has always been watchful over the team, carefully dictating action based on his observations. It’s admirable, really, and reminds him of Green. Blue knows Time more than likely fought the decision to go through the portal.

If that scowl directed at Warriors says anything. Sends shivers down Blue’s spine.

Twilight was just caught off guard, he supposes. Blue can’t really know what happened until his dog brain finally remembers whatever insanity happened. And doesn't deserve to be hauled around in that state!

“Blue, how long can we expect to be to Castle Town by?” Green asks before anyone really has a chance to catch their bearings. Fair, he's always been ahead of things when it comes to planning shit.

“Considering Twilight’s condition and the fact Sky hasn’t gotten his tea yet, I’d take a guess for the whole day,” he responds with a shrug, “but that’s with no setbacks.”

“Right,” Green mumbles, glancing at the ground. That’s his thinking face, right before he makes a move.

Warriors steps into Green’s personal (much more delicate when planning like such) bubble, towering over the two colors in that annoyingly over-exerting captain way Blue despises. “So this is your Hyrule, lead the way then.”

“Let him think!” Blue retorts immediately, forcing Warriors back a bit by putting his own body between the two. “We have a severely injured teammate and one at half function. We can’t move yet.”

“Twilight will be fine, Time can carry him.” Warriors nods back, not even seeing Time’s very very annoyed face as he’s forcing Twilight to drink from his waterskin. “Our priority is getting him somewhere safe as quickly as possible.”

“Our priority should be letting him recover enough to do that,” Time rebuts, capping his waterskin and standing up. “We’re unable to simply move him in his condition, he dragged his feet through the portal.”

Warriors spins around, pointing a finger at Time. “We’re not letting anything happen to him out here.” Taking a step forward, his pointer jabs into Time’s chestplate. “Last I checked, when you disobeyed orders last you nearly singed your face off!”

“And what would have happened if we idled like you insisted, captain?” Time shoots back as his eyes narrow. “We might have had more casualties, we can’t call for backup without an army.”

“I am not taking ord-”

“I got it!” Green explains, emerging from his own alternative realm of plans and thoughts – a place he can be so entirely oblivious to what the fuck is going on, clearly – with a solution to everyone’s issues. “We can go back and get a carriage, there’s a path out there for one right?”

Blue thinks, mentally treading a map in his mind. “Yea, the outskirts of the forest north-west of here there’s a road commonly used by fisherman and the guards.”

Green beams starting with, “Alright then-” before getting cut off.

“Green, Legend, Wild and I will go,” Vio says. “A small yet solid team, and Green and I will handle procuring the carriage.”

Warriors lets out a barely noticeable huff before nodding in agreement. “Go then, the sooner the better.”

Chapter Text

It's really weird to Green, not being able to understand all of his teammate's emotions. Their feelings, thoughts. None. Not even in the slightest.

Even while separated, the Colors themselves are still Four. There are differences, there are slight quicks they each individually have while apart, but for the most part they are Four. And even when apart they share those parts, only in different quantities.

Green – while mostly being jittery, quick on his feet, and oddly reactive – Still is ‘Red’ in the fact he already feels his heart squeeze at the idea of splitting them up, even for the greater good. Green is still ‘Blue’ in the way he needs to protect, to be that last obstacle between them and the enemy. Green is still ‘Vio’ in the way that he knows this is the most logical plan of action, and the sooner they get Twilight to safety the better.

But Green is still ‘Green’ in the way he can’t help but take everything one minute, one second at a time. He can’t plan ahead as well as Vio, or imagine a goal as clearly as Red. He can’t come up with new moves or techniques like Blue and will never be as well-rounded as Four.

He can do the things Vio, Red, and Blue can, just not as well. 

And yet they still look up to him.

It’s a tad strange, in his mind.

Just a smidge.

Just a Minish's handful.

But at least he knows how his other parts think, how they operate and consider different options. What could bother someone, or who might be doubting certain plans. Simply put, the Colors just have that connection.

But the Colors just don't have that connection with the rest of the team. Green can't read them as well.

Green isn't entirely sure why Legend has a distaste for Wild. He’s not sure why Time has been more confrontational with Warriors. He's not sure why Twilight ran off on his own (even though Green does know he has had better judgment in worse situations), and he's especially not sure how this walk to Castle Town is going to go.

He is sure, for once, that he's excited to see Zelda.

But despite his worries, reassurances are had and ‘goodbye for now's are said. There's a trail a'waitin’ and Green is ready for it.

He thinks?

Of course Legend has to spend time on the road with Wild of all people.

It takes less than 5 minutes until that damn Moblin in Hylian skin goes off and finds something to inspect, to stash away with the rest of their useless trove. Legend is just about convinced there's some form of magic that lets them even keep up with the three of them while doing so. They just keep moving, it's pissing him off!

Green is overall anxious, and Legend can't exactly blame him. Last time the group was split – and the time before – people were almost killed.

Something about the ‘almost’ part bugs Legend. Picking at his brain like an incessant fly buzzing in his ear. If Hyrule were here, he'd bounce his rambling off him. That traveler has a way of connecting things in a way Legend would never be able to. 

Vio is reading, seemingly instinctually avoiding twigs and pebbles in his path that threaten to send him flying face first into the pages. But watching him more, Legend comes to realize it's not dumb luck or some sixth sense- it’s a practiced technique. Something gained from months or years of doing so. Vio’s eyes flicker up every so often, registering any tripping hazards and adjusting his gate accordingly.

At least that’s what Legend’s noticing.

He still wonders just how Vio and Green can even be the same person. They’re just so…

Different.

This thought even extends to Blue. He’s so much more confrontational than his counterparts. He speaks up, protects.

And while Red seems to be more sentimental, he hasn’t had enough time to really show that yet, so Legend may just be assuming.

Legend instinctively looks for Wild as his stream of thought starts to peter out. Expecting to see them inspecting some acorns or chasing a squirrel through the branches, Legend is instead met with a more serious tone. Blue sparks – almost akin to flames – swirling away to reveal a bow and arrow, quickly drawn back into the shadows in the distance.

“Green, Vio!” Legend alerts the other two in a hushed yell. Immediately, the golden sheen of his upgraded sword makes itself known and mirror shield covering the royal purples of his attire. 

And then the first arrow flies.

A Moblin cries in pain from beyond the brush, but that doesn’t stop a Lizalfos from sneaking up behind Green on the opposite side of the path. Quick reflexes from Vio lands an arrow in the eye of the scaly foe, creating time for the aforementioned Color to bash the monster's head to the side and wedging the arrow through its skull.

Black blood can't protect against cerebral damage like that, thank Farore.

Again, a volley of arrows from Wild earns more cries of agony but no smell of death, no ashes or monster dust wafting in the air.

There's more from behind, two Moblins and another Lizalfos. Legend brings his sword over his head, slashing downwards with his sword at one of the charging ‘blins. Its skin is like armor, barely scratched and reacting more like it was hit with a blunt weapon than a sword that repels evil.

Green is busy keeping the Lizolfos engaged while Vio makes his attempts to tactfully retreat to somewhere a sharpshooter is more useful, but has to resort to sword to sword combat.

It's clear the Colors work better as a whole than apart.

And it's more clear that they’re getting farther apart from each other

It's then an arrow cuts past Legends cheek, drawing a small trickle of blood but landing directly into his opponent's eye.

“Wild you fucking-” Legend screams, cut off by a ‘blin who made it past their flurry of arrows. Legend blocks a hit that makes his arms feel like static and his world spin for a moment. The impact, the sheer strength of a fucking Moblin!

Din…

Legend muscles through, letting out a wail in the process for days of sore muscles and aching bones that will follow and stab the ‘blin. Again, and again, and again.

poof

Wild jumps down from the tree, grabbing the deceased monster's sword, readying to cut Legends head off.

So he ducks down.

And a Lizalfos screams bloody murder behind him.

But Legend doesn't pay attention to that.

Instead, He shoves Wild's arm, nearly knocking them down. “Stop nearly killing me you moron!”

The moron, in response, rolls their eyes, lifting a hand to sign ‘I'm saving you’ before throwing the sword into the woods followed by an arrow from Vio.

“I'd prefer if you saved me without trying to cut my head off!” Legend screams back at them, blocking another staggering hit.

‘I'd prefer if you let me do my job’ Wild replies, using their greatsword to sweep Legend’s assailant off its feet and into a tree, killing it.

“Your job isn't to cut my damn face! -” Legend yells- “-It's not like you care about the safety of us as a whole anyways!-” Green knocks another monster into dust, struggling hard at this point- “-You just care if you make it out! ”

Wild glares.

It’s not one of those looks Legend gets when he says something rude (yet true), or when he rightfully points out a flaw in something.

No.

This is the look he got when his parents found out he was skipping his swordsmanship classes.

Pure, unadulterated crippling hurt and rage.

For a moment – a cold, hard series of seconds that trail on and on – bowstring’s songs and metal chimes fade away. The dance that is battle gives way for nothing but Legend, Wild, and the emotions that can be carried by no words, no signs- 

shared in one. Simple. Look.

Legend freezes.

But Wild does not.

Wild, within one quick step, pushes Legend off his feet, tackling him to the ground.

And he barely even registers that Wild saved him again.

An arrow catches the light as it flies past where Legend once was, where Wild pushed him out of, and lands in the eye of a Lizalfos.

And the fight is over.

They won.

“Shit.. I need a minute guys…” Green huffs out between beats, hands on his knees for support. Vio slings his bow around his shoulders and proceeds to gently rub Green’s shoulder.

Legend blinks. Things are slowly beginning to come back, he’s slowly remembering where he is and what’s going on and the fact his ass is currently in a patch of bloody mud.

And then he realizes there’s a hand reaching for him, ready to help him up.

And the owner of the hand is Wild.

Tentatively, Legend accepts, feeling unworthy, shameful. 

He’s been so awful to Wild, but time and time again they have helped him in return.

Legend realizes he kinda likes Wild, too.

Chapter Text

“You sure it's not better to just… listen to him?” Wind gently argues back at Time, “I mean, his choices are usually pretty good.”

Time rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulders to be that little bit extra like Tune was. “Is it? His judgment is sound when he's in command of an army. He's still learning how to be an adventurer. ”

Wind glances over at Warriors on the opposite side of camp. He's rummaging in his bag. For what? Wind isn’t sure, but Captain is always, always doing something. “wouldn't it be better for you to give more commands then? Even for a bit?” 

“I-” Time lets out an exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I want to, but he still sees me as a kid. He doesn't understand that I do know better.”

Says you, Time.

Goddesses, Wind’s immediate response wants to be something about how hypocritical (that is how you use that word, right?) He's being. But also, it's kinda fair. Time is a grown ass old man, He’s had a massive time jump since the last time they've been together, the three of them.

Wind having to fight to be heard at least makes sense. He thinks? It's normal, right?

Fuck, nothings normal about being a Hero of Hyrule.

“Well that's annoying.” Is the only thing that comes out of Wind's mouth in response. “That's hardly fair. You're older than him now!”

Time chuckles, his lips turning into a slight smile. “I am an old man now, aren't I?” the older hero nudges the younger playfully.

“I'm still going to consider you my younger brother!” Wind pushes back.

“Hey! I was older than you in the first place.”

“Time travel age isn't fair! We talked about this!”

“Is too.”

“Is not!”

“Is-”

“Red, they literally can’t see you anymore. Stop waving like an idiot.” Blue teases, which Warriors is very much attempting to ignore.

Sadly the rummaging of his personal effects just isn't enough to drown out the sounds of nearby conversation. Warriors isn't even sure if he’s looking for something, more just giving his hands something to do besides punch Time in the face. Golden Three and Hylia above, out of everyone here, he’s the one to speak out against him. Time never talked back as Tune, never disagreed with his judgment or anything.

So why now?

Has he really changed that much? Or has Warriors gotten worse in the span of a few months after resigning from captain? It's all so confusing, irritating, and frustrating to him. It doesn’t matter though, he is the captain and if Warriors doesn’t get to decide nobody else does.

This environment can’t be as different as everyone is saying. They are still a group of armed individuals out in the wilderness fighting for something, for Hyrule. Is it the lack of group tactics? Or the general solo nature of most of their conquests?

Warriors quits his meaningless search, sitting back in his heavily padded sleeping bag. Everything is new to him, and it doesn’t make sense. Maybe some drills are in order? Maybe a way to improve morale, function, and coordination. But at the same time, his ways may not be the best.

Perhaps it's a topic for another time. He needs to check on Twilight.

“So it’s not a bad thing if you guys are separated for a while?” Hyrule asks, letting his curiosity control him for a while. Thankfully, Red and Blue don't seem to mind the incessant questions.

“Nah, not really.” Blue responds nonchalantly, grabbing Red’s arm and forcing the other Colors to sit down in a circle with him and Sky. “We kinda just miss each other, I guess. This one cries.” Blue verbally jabs while pointing a thumb at Red.

“I do not!” The warmer color argues back, blinking tears dry. “I just worry, is all. Vio did pick the two who aren’t on the best terms right now.”

“Are Wild and Legend on bad terms?” Sky asks with a sleepy lisp, holding his tea (which Wild made for him before leaving) like his life depends on it. It probably does.

“They do seem kinda..” Hyrule wiggles his hand in the air with an uncertain gaze. Legend complains a lot. It’s subtle, but it’s there. “I don’t think it was smart to bring those two.”

Blue rolls his eyes and shakes his head with all the drama of Din. “Vio has a plan, he always does.”

“Yea!” Red giggles. “I bet right now he's telling Green exactly how he planned it!”

“Fuck, Green would ask huh.” Blue remarks, disappointed?

“So, what was your adventure like? With there being four of you..?” Hyrule moves on to the next question.

Blue lights up. “Oh, OH now this I want to talk about!” 

Chapter Text

Green has always welcomed every single little sensation Castle Town brings. Even the annoying ones. Heels on stone, Horse manure, that one really annoying bell that tolls when the knights are supposed to gather for drills.

He specifically hates that one.

But this time, he welcomes these annoyances. It's a part of home to him, to all the Colors. He wants nothing more than to sit in town square and soak in the fact that this is his home. He has the privilege to live here, to protect this place with his teammates.

But with that privilege, there are deeds that need to be done.

Such as securing a carriage! Which means talking to the stablehands for horses, getting an actual carriage, and praying to Hylia his nerves will be steady long enough for the trip. Fun.

Green lists off the necessary tasks. “First you three need to get horses, then Vio and I’ll head to the marketplace to start the process of renting the carriage”

Vio scoffs. “Don’t tell me you’re still afraid of horses? Buttercup bit us once.”

Legend snickers and Wild covers their face, clearly teasing and poking fun at him in their heads at Green’s perfectly rational fear. “Yea and we had to get so many stitches before we could get a potion to heal it!”

“What did you do to anger a horse named Buttercup?! ” Legend chokes out before heaving in a breath and wiping away a tear. “I bet even Wind’s never been bit by a horse before!”

‘His era doesn’t have horses, actually.’ Wild signs, taking deep breaths as well. ‘Unless you count boats, you could consider those sea steeds!’

“Unfortunately I don’t think the tree that made the boats could be considered a horse, or a living animal, even.” Vio explains, but he’s smiling so at least he’s enjoying this horseshit. Literally.

‘No, look.’ Wild signs again as they near the stables. ‘The horse’s spirit just gets transferred into the tree when it’s reborn.’

Legend rolls his eyes “That is the dumbest thing I've ever heard, Wild.”

‘Tree Epona! Treepona! ’ the crazed man-Moblin signs with wide motions, big like their goofy smile.

“Wait, did we tell them about Epona?” Green looks to Vio as they stop outside the stables.

“No, can’t say we have.” he turns a page in his book

Legend raises a brow. “My horse’s name was Epona too.”

‘So is mine.’ Wild finishes.

For a moment, all four of the heroes just stare at each other in group bafflement.

Maybe Treepona is possible.

—

After talking to the stablehand for the knights, Vio was able to secure a horse to pull the carriage. One of the ones used to carry ritual material to be blessed in Lake Hylia there and back. Personally, Vio never cared much for such fanciful, frivolous magic uses.

Alchemy, magical exchange, sealing and ritual magics. There's so much more than simple casting or channeling.

Aside from said ritual magic, Vio is well versed in the theory of all of the above. In practice, casting and channeling is the easiest. It's an almost primal, instinctual skill all Hylians possess. Using Pegasus boots, for example, is channeling magic.

On the other hand, casting requires more steps. One must know the spell, have the magic reserves to use the spell, and be able to output that magic. Less common, but debatably more useful.

Alchemy is something Vio needs to meddle in someday, but the supplies to even attempt would run them through their wallets.

“Vio?” Green starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Why did you pick Wild and Legend? I mean.” A pause, “It's clear they weren't on the best of terms before.”

“Hmm?” He responds, looking up from the book he frankly isn't even reading. “Truthfully, I wanted them to fight.”

This clear cut answer is not something Green expected, clearly. “ Why? Someone could have been hurt or- or died! ”

“To be clear, I never intended for that ambush, of course,” Vio starts, running his thumb over the spine of his book, “but it did help,” He sucks his teeth, “ expedite The process, a little”

“Oh for the love of Hy- just tell me what you were thinking? Maybe? ” Green shrugs his hands in the air, trying his best, Nayru bless him.

But there’s something about the language Green is exhibiting – both verbal and physical – that’s generating a rift between them. Vio knows very well his other Color doesn't mean to be accusatory. No, not in the slightest, but alas the idea of Green thinking his teammates could die and Vio would be at fault.  

Maybe it’s not too far-fetched, considering the triplecross he pulled years ago. Golden Three…

“My plan was for them to talk .” Vio pulls at the leather strap holding up his shoulder guard. “And knowing them, it would have ended up in a fight. But some people need to fight to talk.”

They start walking up the stairs to the inner portions of the city as Vio continues. “I think we all need to talk more, I think it’s Dark’s plan to keep us from talking, from sharing. ”

Green, finally seeming to settle himself down a peg, quirks a brow. “How so..?”

“Do you remember back in Warrior’s era?” The two stop halfway up the stairs, Vio a step above Green. “When we found a flower toxic to fae? Remember how we were being watched, how the next day Hyrule got poisoned by those flowers?”

Vio can see the gears turn in Green’s brain, how the pieces the warmer color has been collecting suddenly fit together. “So, Dark knew Hyrule is a fairy. And he made those Moblins…”

“ Exactly. ” Vio points at Green. “And you’ve noticed how all of us have been a little less talkative as of late?”

“Yea..?”

“Dark’s trying to keep us from sharing information.” Vio explains. “Psychologically. And it worked for a time until Warriors had his tantrum .”

“Can’t we just tell everyone to share more then?”

“No. That-” Vio sighs, “That won't solve the already present mistrust. This is psychological warfare, Green.”

Green starts climbing the stairs again before stopping to turn around back at Vio. “I just… I don’t like the idea of lying. It feels dishonest not to share that. Especially if it’s what the enemy wants us to do!”

“Again, Green, we can’t just tell everyone to make up. It’s not in Hylian nature.”

There’s a long pause with a tense atmosphere. Heavy air and a heavier sigh from Green, who motions for Vio to follow him as they begin ascending the stairs again.

It’s silent between them as they get a carriage. It’s silent between them as they hook up the horses. It’s silent between them as Wild enthusiastically takes the reins. It’s silent between them as Legend talks to Wild about his adventures.

It’s just so silent .

Vio doesn’t want Green to be silent.

Chapter Text

From afar Dark watches on. Unseen, untethered from the perception of the ‘Heroes’ in the story. A tree, one taller than the others, overseeing the path Dark – and only Dark – has painstakingly laid crumb after crumb.

Wild and Legend becoming friends is quite the development, but not unprecedented. Afterall, those two have so much in common. the pain, the suffering, the absolute despair that create all of what those two Hylians are. Hurt and hate intertwining with hope and courage, Dark is well acquainted with these traits, found within every one of Hylia's Heroes. Chosen or not.

But these two. There's something so specific about it.

Perhaps it's that very first adventure. The death of everyone you ever cared for, a world unknown and confusing, the fear springing forth from all the mixed emotions.

Dark finds a sort of perverse interest at the thought, his obsession with the consequences of events on the Hylian mind. It's so fascinating.

And what's more fascinating is how Dark can manipulate the feelings that sprout from those consequences.

The Hero's Spirit is no less a malleable puppet in his show. 

Afterall, he's forever intertwined with them, from birth until death, Forever cursed to follow this ignorant twink reborn again and again.

His blood festers with rage.

And it's all their precious Goddess’s fault.

His gaze shifts to Green and Vio, the two seemingly silent. 

Odd.

Perhaps they're disagreeing. Of course not the strangest occurrence. It’s only nature for those two parts of a person to quarrel.

Now, what could they possibly be in such a disagreement about? Is Green mad about Vios explicates activities? No, no, that can't be correct. Perhaps Vio is planning to finally save their little Shadow.

Of course, Dark already knows how that goes.

No, that doesn’t seem to be it either... Little Violet never makes a plan without proper information at his fingertips.

Then…

It's about him.

Dark can feel his heart squeeze with glee, excitement flowing in his arteries at the mere thought of his plan finally, finally spinning into motion. He can feel the snow being packed in his hands, the first domino being toppled. Oh the thrill, the thrill of everything going well, going good, going great.

Ah, what have you put together, Vio. And what would Green dislike so much..?

There's quite a few things, really, that fit both criteria.

Oh…

Oh.

The answer clicks within Dark’s mind, considering everything he’s left behind for them to find. It’s too soon for them to know about his origins, but certainly not impossible for Vio to figure out how Dark’s been manipulating the flow of information.

Which is exactly why he let Shadow off his leash for a little adventure.

Well if that's the case, Dark can use that to his advantage.

Dark takes a stand from his perch on the tree branch, letting his form slowly glide down the length of it until he can feel the ground beneath his feet. He gives a passing glance to Shadow, who growls in a low, animalistic tone at his presence. No matter, the imbecile can't escape his chains anyways. Dark made sure his dark tethers are tight around his wrist, and to the trunk of the tree. His dog is now caged, tied down, and will remain so until Dark sees fit.

“Do I at least get water? Food?” Shadow snarls, gaining an eye roll from the taller Shade.

“Such anger! Such vitriol!” Dark smiles, the scar on his lip splitting into an equally unnerving grin. “Your freedom from before now was a gift. Don’t think you’ll get it again soon.”

“Why do you hate me so much? ” Shadow yells out. “What have I done? You never explained!”

Dark slams his claws against the trunk Shadow is tethered to “I don’t need to explain myself to you, you fucking abomination!” Dark screams back, birds flying off. “You are NOTHING but the dirt beneath me, unworthy of being chosen, barely worth keeping around if not to torment you for how you tormented me!”

“Then get rid of me! ” Shadow bites back, baring his teeth like a cornered animal. “Take back that stupid power that stupid Goddess gave you and let me go back to being a normal Shade!”

The sound of claw against bark, chunks of wood falling to the ground, and glares that could kill fill a brief moment between the two. Dark can only imagine the ways he could kill Shadow prematurely.

“I won't.” Dark begins, poison in his tone. “Because like me, you still have to live. But unlike me, I know how you live, how you die, how the Colors die, and how Four dies, and all the stupid mistakes in between.” He leans in more, making sure his expression of pure unbridled hatred and need for Shadow’s torment is clear.

He can taste his fear, and Dark drinks it up. The once aggressive, hostile animal before him whimpering back into his rightful place.

Beneath him.

Chapter Text

Red kicks his feet while laying across baby Blue’s lap. Boredom is finally kicking in for the warmest of the Colors, and it's so laaame.

It definitely doesn't help that the tension between sweet Warriors and honeydew Time hasn't lessened in the past few hours. And it's almost night time! Red does not want to have to wake Blue up when the others get back! That's worse than any argument between friends!

“Do you think they're arguing about the shoulder plates thing again?” Blue half mutters, tone unwavering, still as an unbothered puddle. But Red can tell, he can tell underneath the calm gentle waves is an unrelenting current.

For Red knows, Blue is the Color of water, the Color that resorts to fight, the Color of those gut feelings. He pushes and pulls and screams, running, clawing his way to the answer in reaction to a question.

“They could. They might as well.” Red holds his hands high out in front of him, manipulating imaginary forces. “I don't want them to fight, but if Green is finally putting his feelings out there, that's good!”

Green is the Color of wind, the Color that resorts to flight, the Color that trusts his soul to guide them. Leaders require the knowledge of when to know something is too much for a team. When they need to run.

“Vio's always blockin’ himself off, anywho. Can't even talk to him about it if we wanna.” Blue pouts, gazing off into the distance. Red can see his lip quiver slightly. Lil Blue, it's okay, Red is here.

Violet is the Color of Earth, the Color that resorts to freeze, the Color of the mind that grounds them in moments of panic and fear. A baseline for everyone else to build off of, somewhere to start from.

Red opens his mouth to respond, but is quickly cut off by bird cries and the sound of wings overhead. He flinches forward a bit before pulling himself into a full sitting position. By the looks of it, the whole camp (aside Twilight, who has his eyes open but appears too weary still to fully react) noticed too. Of course, everyone being on edge never helps, and it's that kinda cliché in Vio's favorite books that birds only fly off when something happens. But maybe it actually does happen!

“We should check that out…” Wind mutters, looking between Time and Warriors for confirmation. He wrings his hands, fidgeting with his fingers. Not to mention the stress on the poor little thing’s face!

“We shouldn’t. This is our rendezvous location and we don't know when the other will be getting back.” Warriors says, gaining an agreeing nod from Time. Red is just glad for those two to agree on something.

Sky raises his brow, confusion very visible on his face. “Are you sure? If they’re coming our way, we’re going to need to protect Twilight.”

“While you bring up a fair point, we’ll be in worse trouble if the other can’t find us.” Time surmises, “And I'd hate for something to happen to any members we dispatch to check it out.”

Clearly thought through and well said in a way that reminds Red of berry Vio, his earth. Read misses him so much. And Sky’s obvious questioning reminds him of Green, how he just asks before thinking through. or maybe it's to open conversation, or be transparent with what he's thinking.

Hyrule's head turns, reaching for his sword (shiny, shiny sword) before quickly relaxing. “Well we don't have to wait, they're back.”

Attention turns to where Hyrule is looking, and sure enough a carriage peeks through the trees. Red has never been so happy to see a wooden frame and a thick cloth cover in his life! And in front Legend and Wild sit, the latter with their Hands on the reigns.

Hyrule manages to get the jump on Red in running over to greet their teammates, but the two of them still manage to be the first at the carriage's side as the horses stop. The pair are quickly followed by Blue and Sky, then the others (minus Time and Warriors who are helping Twilight over, how sweet!)

“Are you hurt? Scratches, bruises, any burns or sore throats? Oh Goddesses, did you catch an illness, I think I have some herbs that make a good tea for that-” Hyrule immediately starts fussing over Legend and Wild, who just quietly let him do so. Well, Wild less willingly. Red can tell they're not thrilled to be examined, pulling away from the touch.

But Red is more concerned about the other half of the party, looping around to the back of the carriage and pulling back the tarp that acts as a door. Inside are two (scarily quiet and broody) Colors. He steps inside, getting glances from the two as he tries his hardest to quietly find a seat on the floor between them.

Red clears his throat. “So.. can i-” 

“No.” Vio and Green say in unison. coordinated even at the worst of times.

“We can talk later, then.” The warmer color quietly responds, offering a soft smile. He can see Green's posture loosen and Vio's eyes soften. It's the small things, with them. They don't need hugs or too many words, just someone existing and a smile.

Blue pulls back the tarp, holding it open for Warriors and Time to haul Twilight in. The sitting Colors scooch, giving the three room to situate their hurt ally. Blankets and pillows are adjusted, Time lays a hand on Twilight's forehead and Warriors checks his pulse. A Minish’s handful of other first aid stuff later and the two exit the carriage.

Blue stays inside though, squeezing into the rest of the space. “The plan is everyone else is going to walk alongside the carriage. I think Warriors wants-” there's a moment of nervousness flashing over Blue's face as he notices the mood Vio and Green are in “uh- wants us to keep an eye on wolf boy here.”

“That sounds like a plan!” Red responds before the other two could. Small things. “I'm great at taking care of people!”

“Yea but you can't make sick food for the life of you.” Vio jokes. “Remember when I got sick and everything you made had too many spices.”

“That's okay because you overwork yourself!” Blue rebuttals. “Otherwise you wouldn't have been sick.”

“The historians needed a translation of those books. it was that or the constant pestering from Zelda, considering the contents were presumed to be on old magic.”

“Goddesses, she needs a new hobby.” Green chuckles, sliding his palm down the side of his face.

Vio smirks. “That she does.”

Red feels a sudden jerk as the carriage starts to move, his heart feeling full as his teammates are Joking around, being joyful.

Red is the Color of fire, the Color of the heart, the Color who resorts to fawn. The one who knows what the body, soul, and mind need to feel at ease. He brings warmth, comfort, and protection.

Red reaches an arm around Green and Vio, embracing them in a hug.

The heart always knows.

Chapter Text

It doesn’t matter how many times he’ll see it — Wind thinks to himself – cities and villages this large are amazing.

But a part of him still remembers the burnt rubble of Kakariko, two portals ago. A place he used to love, to run through the streets of and spend pocket change on the rare instances he was able to during the war. The shops, the people, the kids who would ask to play ball with him-

All gone.

Could that happen here too?

Will it?

Walking behind Warriors whom he followed during those times (and still does) – his land-captain, and one of his rocks, even now. Does he feel the same? Do the city streets remind him of his home? Wind can’t figure it out, there’s too much going on all at once and he doesn't want to mistake his emotions for someone else’s.

Four’s Castle Town is very pretty, though. It’s more new and less weathered than Warriors’ is. It seems freshly built, or at least recent. Mothers walking with their kids in the streets, going into another branching off path with baskets full of fresh produce. Tapestries of what Wind vaguely recognizes as the royal sigil flowing in the breeze, like a flag on a ship. He’s never really seen it, much. Maybe before under the sea, where Hyrule used to be before the Goddesses drowned it. He still feels kinda bad about that after seeing it in person.

Maybe he should be used to seeing destroyed civilizations at this point, he jokes internally.

Green comes out of the front of the carriage between Wild and Legend, pointing and talking about where to go, giving some small waves back to some passersby. Wind’s internal thoughts drowns out the exact wordings, letting those in front of him be the leaders. He knows this is a time he doesn’t need to be a leader, or know everything, and can just follow the captain he doesn’t need to be right now.

He’s thankful for the break. It feels like he’s gonna break.

The carriage stops just outside a gate – guarded on both sides – to the curved uphill path leading to the castle. It’s immaculate, and judging by the bricks lined up just beyond the iron bars stopping the crew from getting in, about to get some upgrades.

Then Green hops out, talking to one of the guards. He pulls out some sort of medal? Identification of sorts maybe, because the guard takes it and inspects it. But that can’t matter much, because it’s obvious by how the two act that this guard at least knows who Green is. Must be one of those gross formalities people like this are all about. Yuck!

“Link Green Smith, where in the world have you been, mister!” a shrill voice carries from the just beyond the drawbridge of the castle. Guards follow a woman (the owner of the voice) on each side as she stomps down the steps, waving a hand as the gate immediately begins to open.

The air around her, Goddesses help Wind. This woman he can immediately tell is royalty, but even more so the way she dresses herself is perfection. A ballroom gown of creams and pink pastels split down the front with a wavy ruffling. A corseted midsection in a deep wooded brown. Fabric drapes off her shoulders and over the whole arm midsection and chest, and massive poofy sleeves to top that off? Just that outfit would bring attention but the hair! A big brown blonde curly up-do ponytail with a striking red ribbon (how does any of that stay upright?).

But less on fashion, more on the fact she’s absolutely seething at Green.

“Wh- Oh Zelda!” Green smiles, but practically shrinks with anxiety. And is that a blush? “Sorry yea so we’re gonna need some rooms and the clerics, see-”

“ Where have you been! You’re late, you idiot!” Zelda yells right back as she stops herself right in front of Green. “I can’t believe I haven't seen you in a week, and when I caught wind that you’re back in town only to rent a carriage and leave?”

Green holds his hands up sheepishly, almost rolling over and taking the barrage of words, “I’m sorry we got pulled into another- Zelda I- We needed-”

“Oh for the Goddesses- Where’s Vio. Let him explain,” the princess demands, crossing her arms and tapping her foot.

As if on cue, Vio comes stumbling out of the back of the carriage. Saving himself from planting his smart-ass face, the purple Color manages to sneak in a glare to the rest of the Colors still in the safety of the carriage. After reorienting himself and wiping a speck of dust off his chest (if there even was any), Vio clears his throat. “Princess Zelda, the pleasure is mine.”

“Skip the formalities,” Zelda bites back, breaking down Vio’s formal facade a bit.

“Yes, Princess,” Vio sighs, “but I suggest we talk inside the palace, if we may?”

The title ‘Princess’ seems to only further enrage Zelda as Wind sees her eye twitch. But, other than that, she does seem to calm down. Zelda quietly turns and commands the guards to let the crew in.

What a first impression. This Zelda is much different from Warriors’.

And Wind still isn’t sure if Tetra should be compared or not, considering her choice of continuing to ditch the name…

Warriors is well acquainted with the fact he may be nearing the end of this ‘timeline’ of Hyrule’s history, but seeing this unfamiliar castle in a relatively new state is making him really think about it.

To walk through the literal halls of history, of a castle unscathed by war or untouched by rebellion is horrific in a way. He knows that if he doesn’t recognize this place, it must have fallen in the past. Or is it the future?

He’s a soldier, not a theoretic scientist. That question is above his pay grade.

But his opinions and knowledge on whatever tense of events that will happen at some point and time shouldn’t be said. He does not need another war.

Oh Goddesses…if he has to chaperone Wind and Tune again…

After personally ensuring Twilight is taken care of, Zelda leads them into a meeting room of sorts. Stained glass of a hero, some small creatures, and a sword line the walls and shed a colorful light on a round table. The guards who were following the Princess halt on either side of the door while Zelda herself makes her way around the table and to the middle seat. Rather seamlessly, might he add, with her dress being so large.

Everyone else quietly takes a seat, a miracle for the sheer amount of Heroes being present with Four split into the Colors. Although, only Red and Blue take a seat, each on either side of the Princess. Green and Vio remain standing at attention behind Zelda, on guard. It's not like Red and Blue aren't equally in work mode, so to speak, but it's certainly less intimidating.

But the four of them together acting as a guard unit… It's quite a sight. It even Warriors is put on edge. 

“Now, may we address why you’ve been gone, Four?” Zelda starts the meeting with a repeat of her prior question, but addressing the Colors a whole. “You neglected to let me know, after all. You are supposed to let me know these things.”

Green’s response is a prompt, bashful glance away while Blue takes the talking into his own hands. “We didn’t exactly have a choice. Portal, woosh, future!” He explains abruptly with little hand motions, finalizing the whole ordeal by leaning back in his chair. “Everyone here, aside from your highness, is a reincarnation of us. Past and future.

“Fascinating…” Zelda takes her time studying the group, Warriors feeling a little intimidated when her eyes land on him. She’s not intimidating in the usual way, but it’s the absolute confidence she holds herself with. 

She’s a born leader.

“Excuse my asking then, have you figured out why you’ve been gathered?” the questioning continues.

“Can’t say,” Legend is the next to talk. “We do have a suspect, though. Alas, we haven’t got a face to assign the criminal.”

The way he’s talking…

Zelda hums. “Do we have a name, perchance?”

“Dark,” Legend’s posture is new to Warriors, more formal, like he was in his Zelda’s castle. “We’ve come to assume, with great reason, that he is behind black-blooded monsters appearing across time.”

“Ah yes!” The princess responds in an affirming tone. “We have had a few of those popping up. I simply can’t say that we’ve had good luck dealing with them…” A sugar-coated grim response.

“Then we simply can’t let that stand,” Legend grimaces, a rage beneath that purposeful facade.

Warriors takes the vet’s lingering silence as a place to intervene. “We are trying to find the foe, but some of us have experience with what Dark is. A creature of shadow, replicating our own forms and fighting us.”

“Shadow?!” Zelda almost yells. “ Vio, you said he was fine!”

The purple knight shrinks under the pressure. No witty banter, no knowledgeable snap-back.

“No, no Princess Zelda- Dark is not Shadow, thankfully we’ve been over this” Warriors heaves a sigh. “But Shadow is under his uh… watch.” He can’t help but glance over at Vio. Really he’s the only one who knows more but Goddesses forgive him if he gets him in more trouble.

Zelda sighs herself, pinching the bridge of her nose. “If that is all, I’d like time to process.”

Legend perks up once more. “Actually, Your highness.”

The Princess perks her brow, silently allowing Legend to continue.

“I’m sure you’re aware of how all girls in your lineage are named after the first Zelda. Is there perhaps another name we can call you?” The vet pries, a weird emphasis on ‘another name’.

Zelda pauses for a moment before giving a soft smile to Legend – a knowing smile – and answers. “Why yes. My middle name is Dotty, please call me Dot.”

“Princess Dot,” Legend closes his eyes and bows his head, “my pleasure, thank you.”

“Alright, You’re all dismissed, besides you, Green!” Dot commands, followed by the scooting of chairs and clamor of footsteps. As everyone leaves, only Green and Dot are left in the meeting room.

Weird.

Chapter Text

As the doors close with a mighty slam, Dot immediately embraces Green in a hug, showering his entire face with kisses. Happiness spreads across every inch of his body as he picks her up and spins her around. Her hair shimmers in the colored light that dapples into the meeting chambers, but not even the midsummer sun can compare to the brightness of her smile.

It’s her subtle freckles, how her smile – her real smile, not the one she uses for appearances – shows her upper gums. The way she scrunches her nose when she nuzzles it against his. How her dress basically envelopes his legs with how big it is. Her arms squeeze his shoulders as he puts her down.

“You’re so tense, Green!” Dot whispers her observation, “have you been taking proper rest? How long have you four been split?”

“For a day or so.” He fits his hands on her waist. “It’s been busy, constantly. There’s so much going on and we didn’t split for a long time- We almost died.” Green’s face turns to shock remembering that. “Oh Goddesses we almost died…”

“But you didn’t.” Dot embraces him again, this time with a peck on the lips. “And you won’t, right? Can't have you miss my coronation as Queen.”

Gears turn in Green’s head. “Wait, you said I was late earlier! I didn’t miss it then!?”

“No! I-” Her cheeks flush. “I just missed you and wasn’t sure what to say…”

He furrows his brows, more mad her coronation still hasn’t happened yet. “Is the council still being stingy about it? Over a fashion sense?” Green might as well fight them himself at this point.

“Princess Zelda is simply not mature enough for the crown,” Dot mocks one of the councilmen and rolls her eyes. “‘Cause apparently showing shoulder is childish, or something. You know, Din, Nayru, Farore and Hylia herself can come down and declare my style an assault to the eyes and men’s minds, I’ll never change!”

Green can see the hurt and defiance in Dot's eyes, can feel it in her soul. It's been months since her 18th birthday, months since she was supposed to be crowned as Queen Zelda. It's been a pain for both of them. All he can really hope for is for the council to finally change their minds.

“You have the blood of the Goddess. You have the Lightforce. It's not right for them to take your crown from you…” Green’s seethes through gritted teeth. Like nothing else matters besides Dot's problems right now. Nothing. “It's not fair. It's your crown”

“It is, but there's nothing I can do.” She crosses her arms, “besides stop wearing whatever they deem revealing to be. Which is really, really stupid.”

The two both sat in silence for a bit, standing loosely in each other's arms. It hurts Green that Dot hurts, even if she won’t say. She’s just so strong, so smart, so proud of herself. As bright and wonderful as she always has been, ever since childhood, ever since he saw her through Green’s eyes alone.

“So, how about you? What’s happened across time?” Dot smiles, her eyes glittering with intrigue, shadowed with pain.

Green lets out a quick sigh, his shoulders dropping. “Well, first we got whisked away to the next era, where we met the Hero of Time. . .”

His head is throbbing, pain making him drift in and out of consciousness. Or at least, what’s letting him register words into memory.

Twilight can feel the soft mount of feather filled pillow under his head, keeping him propped up in a half sitting position. He’s warm under a blanket, and he can vaugely feel his pelt that’s usually wrapped around his waist on top of everything. He hears the fretting of Four and… Four?

But the smell, oh the smell!

As the heat wafts to his nostrils Twilight can catch the distinct smell of tomato. There’s some sort of cream, as well, but if it’s Wild’s cooking there's distinctly less than usual. Basil, thyme, and a list of other herbs he knows the scent of but not the name.

As the heat and smell gets closer, he can feel a spoon pushing down on his lower lip, trying to get his mouth open. Twilight obliges, feeling his stomach flip with the need for sustenance. Liquid enters his mouth, a calming soothing wonderful taste gracing his taste buds. Good soup, Twilight loves good soup. 

He manages to open his eyes slightly to see the pack’s favorite chef getting another spoonful to feed him. Time is sitting at a desk on the other side of the room (a rather nice one if he may say so), he has his elbows on the desk and head in his hands, almost looking like he’s gonna doze off. Aside from those two, there's Four and Four-

He’s hallucinating.

Twilight looks back to Wild – who’s noticed his eyes are open – and tries to ask what’s going on. 

All that makes it out is a pitiful groan.

Din, he’s so tired…

Wild – after placing down the soup bowl and spoon on the nightstand – raises their hands to sign. ‘No, you’re not crazy, there’s two Fours.’

So they’re both crazy.

‘Time’s gonna ask what happened. Eventually. He’s staying with you overnight. I don’t think anyone’ll bug you until morning but…’ Wild glances over at the colored Fours. ‘Some of us are just worried. Warriors is gonna try and keep them out until you’re able to respond.’

Twilight drops his eyelids. He doesn’t mind the clamor – he’s used to being the cool babysitter. But he was always a grumpy one when he was sick. Especially when he can’t protect the others.

He’s not even sure how he got there, come to think of it.

Legend is led by Vio to a rather spectacular library. Books, wonderful books, line the walls in embroidered shelves that even Sky would be enamored by. But by far, Hyrule seems much more amazed than even Legend is.

“I’ve never seen so many books in one place…” Rue gasps, “I thought the treasury had a lot but… this?!”

“Sh-!” Vio hisses out abruptly, bringing his pointer to his mouth. “I understand you must not know about library etiquette, but you’re supposed to stay quiet!”

Rue covers his mouth with both hands, immediately failing to stay quiet as they make an audibly slap on impact. Legend smirks, letting out a little chortle.

“Right,” Vio whispers as he leads the pair to another doorway. “Now remember: you’re not allowed in here without me here or express permission from the Princess.” He pulls out a key and fiddles with the lock. “Your status doesn’t matter – these tomes are heavily protected.”

The lock comes undone and the door opens with a small creak . Inside is dusty and still. It heeds to the secluded nature of the place according to the purple prude. The ceiling is much lower, and it's certainly smaller with less books in total, but they’re all old – dilapidated, spines starting to crack and wrinkle from use.

Vio starts heading inside the room, followed by Rue and then Legend himself. Honestly, it's not much compared to the grand library on the other side of the door. There’s only a table, a few chairs (only two of which have been used in the past few years by the health coating of dust on the other three), books and scribe materials. Despite the absolute state of things, Vio just closes the door behind them and makes his way to one of the less dusty seats while Rue and Legend stare.

He can feel his lungs filling with shit.

“I’ll make a translation guide for you two, then we can get to work.” Vio says, popping open a fresh vial of ink, “but I’ll need you two to write a sentence in your Hylian for me to transcribe. I know you wanted to learn, Rue, so you can practice writing.”

Legend wipes the dust off one of the more covered chairs, making a damn cloud in the process. He knows that people aren’t allowed access, but can’t they clean in here? His hand is so grimy now. Legend takes a seat, resorting to wiping his hand on his purple robes. Damn nuisance.

“Right, so for the most part the pronunciation of the Hylian language hasn’t changed oddly enough. Can you write this poem as I relay it to you?” Vio hands Legend a pen and scoots the ink vial over before placing fresh parchment in front of him.

Vio reads off from a book,

“Although its scent still lingers on

  the form of a flower has scattered away

For whom will the glory

  of this world remain unchanged?

Arriving today at the yonder side

  of the deep mountains of evanescent existence

We shall never allow ourselves to drift away

  intoxicated, in the world of shallow dreams.”

Although he speaks slowly, and pauses after every line, Legend is still trying very hard to keep his lines good. He’s never been one for calligraphy, and hated Hylian lessons with a passion. He prefers the curse if he can and only writes for himself to get something out of his system. Fuck if its legible.

But Rue is going slower. Makes sense, poor Rue hasn’t gotten to learn to write. He’s given him lessons in sign after meeting Wild, but that's it really. 

Makes him wonder if Rue could have been a scribe if it wasn’t for his unfortunate circumstances.

Makes him wonder if it’s his fault for not really killing Ganon.

Legend finishes, and Vio takes the paper. There’s a pouting sound from Rue, but he doesn’t seem to care for it. The prude compares the script Legend wrote to his book, line by line, glyph by glyph.

“How many letters are in your alphabet?” Vio furrows his brow.

“Twenty-three,” Legend responds, deadpan.

“You’re fucking kidding me.” Vio looks like he’s about to flip the table

“Is that weird?” Legend and Rue say in unison.

Vio is aghast. “You have twenty-three fuckin' letters in your entire alphabet??” He yells, breaking the quiet in the library rule he put down. “We have forty-six, how am I supposed to-” He groans, scratching his head and throwing his head back. “Nayru come down and tell me why I try-”

“Can we try translating the words individually?” Rue suggests. “It could take a while but…”

Legend can already feel the migraine.

Warriors watches Wind and Sky from the balcony as the two troublemakers work on whatever project they have going on. It’s dark, but he can track them by the lamplight they took with them. They look like they’re having fun, for the most part. At least they’re not getting into more trouble.

It’s not like he didn’t see that book before it was put in the vault. He did, he knows it's just odd sketches and one random page of make pretend murals. It’s not the actual contents of the book that's the reason why it’s in the vault.

It’s where they found it.

A book in an unknown language in a battlefield during a war across time. Not exactly something that comes across as safe.

Why did Sky grab it? Could he read it? Or maybe the guy’s just a kleptomaniac. He’s a good soldier, Warriors will give him that. Sky follows orders and doesn’t stray.

It’s just that one time.

He’ll have to ask, later.

Chapter Text

Ripples lap against his knees and the sound of rain fills his ears. Still, Time’s childish form is tangled in the lotus’s grasp. Defenseless as he’s gripped by growths latching, the weaving tracing his legs and keeping him from moving. 

It’s the lingering anxiety that it brings. The fear of being trapped. 

He’s seeing his reflections in the water, rain pouring into a pool. Like a well. Deep in a well surrounded by flowers. Blossoms of irises wilting and petals floating in the water where they remain before getting pulled under by the rain.

He can’t stop it. He screams, and nothing comes out. 

His throat is raw.

No words.

No sound.

Only the dry pain of a helpless, crying child.

The distorted reflection of a half-moon lingers on the surface of the water. It matters not if the rain creates ripples, or his thrashing creates waves, or petals land atop it.

The moon stays – distorting in form, but it remains.

A half-moon.

Time jolts awake, heaving in deep breaths and sweating puddles. He brings his hand to his head and leans back in the desk chair. There’s a blanket around him, someone must have left it on him when he fell asleep. He glances over to see Twilight, snoring lightly.

Another dream, making this a recurring one. A premonition? He can’t be sure. The only thing he’s aware of is the distinctness of the flowers.

Irises.

When he was still with the Kokiri, he heard about how flowers speak. They give meaning to words left unsaid when given to another. Saria was very invested in that sort of thing – communication that could be said without spoken words. Music and song; art and dance.

While she may not be here, her memory is still leading Time along in this mystery.

Time feels his head fall back into his crossed arms, cushioned by muscles he’s made from being a sparring instructor. From teaching his Hyrule’s future.

Hyrule.

When Hyrule came up with a codename for Dark’s presence, he chose a daffodil based on the meaning. Perhaps he could answer Time’s queries.

His eyes flutter closed and relaxation takes hold of him. Sleep comes forward, winds whispering him a soothing lullaby as they thread through the trees beyond the castle walls.

A comfort he could rarely afforded.

Legend knocks on Wild's assigned room. He can feel his heartbeat, wondering if they’ll respond, or really how . Do they still consider him someone to remotely trust, or was his prior arrogance enough to demolish any bond the two had?

Well, at least one of his questions is answered. Beyond the door is another knock – on the floor or table Legend can't be sure – soft and quick, as a sort of 'come in'. But even so, Legend is hesitant. He slowly twists the knob and pushes the door open with a creeak . "Coming in," Legend announces quietly, knowing full well Wild is far from deaf, just mute. 

Poking his head in, the first thing the veteran notices is the very sharp, very metallic paring knife Wild is holding.

Well, that and some apples.

He's mostly just thankful the knife is only cutting the apples. He closes the door behind him, but only after slipping in himself. He has this need to be cautious, to be careful and considerate about everything. It nags at the back of his mind. Every motion and step is calculated like if he were to step on the wrong floorboard, he could get hurt. Jumped like a prey animal in a predator’s den. This isn't a dungeon.

No, it's worse.

It's communicating with another person.

Right, Legend, remember what you were taught. 

So he draws a breath in, and slowly breathes out. 

Apples – they can talk about that. Common interests.

Images of his house, apples blossoming on the trees, the smell of the open air. Familiar, calming.

"You- uh, like apples too?" Legend croaks out, anxiety still gripping his vocal chords. 

Wild's knife stops halfway through skinning an apple slice, and they look up with narrow eyes. Legend can feel the chills that run down his spine. Why are they always so emotionless? Did he say that wrong? Oh he said something wrong already, shit! 

"Sorry, I- look I came to-" Legend just keeps fumbling over his words. He’s used to working alone. The only conversation he had had before Ravio entered his life was largely onesided – of course he’s fucking up everything! But Wild places down their knife and holds up their palm to make a beckoning motion, patting the chair beside them. 

Well, they're the one with the knife, and Legend’s the one asking for forgiveness.

As Legend approaches his newly appointed seat, Wild resumes his carving of apples. At first glance, they’re just carving off the skin. But almost halfway through, they stop, withdrawing their knife and making a triangular cut in the skin flap. They bend the red skin up a bit and place it on the plate with others.

It looks like a group of bunnies. Little apple bunnies.

Legend leans forward with honest intrigue. He’s never thought about carving his favorite fruit into a shape before, only eating or turning it into a fine cider. But this . It’s adorable . And the care Wild puts into it is amazing . His attention is only drawn away from the snack as Wild’s knife is placed on the table, freeing up their other hand to sign.

‘It’s something Link used to make.’ Wild’s eye twitches and his brows furrow while finger spelling their shared name. ‘He liked making food look nice.’

Legend’s first thought is how odd it is for Wild to separate themselves from their name. And then there’s the disdain . It feels like they've disowned themselves, or just himself? There’s a clear divide in who Wild used to be and who they are now.

Honestly, not unlike the way Legend wants to do with himself. To store away all those horrible memories, the blood, the tears, the pain he inflicted, and the pain he’s felt.

His hand reaches out to Link.

And Wild smacks it away.

‘I don’t owe you a story, and you don't owe me sympathy.’ Fingers speak as loud as words, and they glare at him to drive the message home.

Legend retracts his hand from Link.

‘I’m sorry,’ Legend signs himself, unable to find the air in his lungs to speak properly, or at all. ‘I was wrong, said horrible things, and thought of you as unreliable but–’ A pause, even his fingers are failing him now. ‘I was really just envious. Pathetically envious.’

He’s met with silence, the wordless kind. Where there’s no change in expression, no shifts in posture, just stillness.

A few more beats pass before Legend works up the courage to keep talking.

‘I never listened to you, I never let you talk,’ the veteran continues, spilling everything as the emotions unlock and begin to pour out. ‘ I just asked, or pushed you down, or ignored everything besides words – your words. Your voice.’

They speak differently, and Legend should’ve known by now to treat it as such. There is no translation book for body language or expressions. The subtle cues that can’t be taught, but are instead learned through observation.

Legend never watched for silence, only listened for words.

Tears begin to well up in his eyes, an emotion he kept for one person breaking free under tension ‘You never followed plans, or you just ran off whenever, and I fucking hated that.’ Beyond the watery blur, his eyes connect with Wild’s. ‘But I just wanted to know how you managed to be so free about everything.’

‘ Free?! ’ Wild’s exaggerated motions and a scrunched expression grace Legend in response. ‘ Do you think I just figure things out by being free? ’ They’re standing now, body trembling. ‘I- We've been locked into this role of hero through death, and you just think I’m fine with that? ’ Wild stops speaking for a moment to point to his neck, his chin, his ear. The scar trailing under their clothes and down his arm. ‘ Surely you noticed nobody can survive this. Link didn't. I wouldn't either! ’

So he’s noticed.

Legend has noticed how Wild always separated themselves from the group during washing, or refused to change with them around. They always sought privacy when it came to their body.

But…

‘Did it hurt?’

‘It did. It still does.’

‘ I have some ointment that soothes aches. Do you want some? ’

‘ No. ’

‘ You don't owe me a story, and this isn't out of sympathy. ’

Total silence envelopes them as something blossoms in Legend's stomach. A warmth, maybe? A kinship. Pains that can carry from one life to another – trauma, perhaps – creating a bond. A silly notion, but maybe it's a welcome one.

As Legend wipes away falling tears, Wild places a perfectly cut apple bunny in his hand. Honestly, the craftsmanship is impressive considering the medium used.

' I just learned to make do. It doesn't matter how I feel, as long as Hyrule is safe ,' they sign, melancholy somehow breaking through despite the soundless nature of communication.

Legend snickers, remembering how to use his mouth to speak. "I thought the term was when life gives you lemons," he replies in a sarcastic tone, which thankfully garners him a small smile from the chef.

'I suppose…' their hands stop for a moment, '...I suppose I never got any lemons. Only apples.'

“Yaknow, I actually have an orchard at my house.” Legend smiles a little. “I could get you some fresh ones, and you can teach me to make these.” He holds up the apple bunny. “Fair deal?”

Left with his anxieties and a very tired, pissy Vio, Hyrule’s about to fall asleep in his chair. Before Legend left, the three of them have either been teaching Legend this era’s version of Hylian, or him teaching Hyrule his own. It’s no wonder he left for bed early, pulling double duty like that.

It’s not Legend's fault he's struggling to learn his own native language, his mind just keeps spiraling with information and questions over unrelated things.

Dark himself is getting pushed to the back of Hyrule’s brain, remaining in a little treasure box for another time, but the connections keep turning the lock.

Looking back on everything with a clear mind in a calm environment, he recalls that first fight in Warrior’s era. How he noticed a shift in the very air, a cold front before a storm. Something distinctly Dark , something that reminded him of that cold stone palace where he first properly met him.

And that memory made him freeze with panic.

Then, it was something different. Something that gnawed on the back of his mind, wrapping around everyone and choking out their sense like a snake. Something that fully caught hold of Sky just before Hyrule was whisked off.

That same thing that oozed out of the portal in Kakariko, almost like it was clawing at Time and Warriors, pushing and pulling them both.

And when he felt Dark’s presence, despite him not being there. Everywhere he went it clung to him like an invisible, chilling mist – like a ghost was latching onto him.

The lingering feeling , strange, but not foreign. Familiar, like something from during his adventure. Almost visible marks – like animal tracks – but not quite discernible.

“Is this a query or are you losing your mind?” Vio's voice grounds Hyrule back into reality.

He was saying that out loud.

Feeling his cheeks heat up, he moves his hands to cover them. “No- I- sorry. I was thinking about something!” He closes his eyes tight, like a child thinking if he can't see Vio, Vio can’t see him.

“If you want a name for that phenomenon, it's called Force Trails. Very few can actually feel them.” The purple color stands to put the ancient book away alongside scrolls of translation attempts. “If you want,” he says as he drifts to another section of the shelf, pulling a book as if from memory, “I can teach you more about it.”

At this point, Hyrule’s curiosity beats out his embarrassment, and he nods like a giddy kid. He needs to know more, especially if it’s about magic. It’s his obsession, his lifeline, his deep arcane connection to his home, and his entire existence.

Vio puts the book down, its cover adorned with the Triforce and various other geometric shapes. Some resemble stars, others diamonds. Of course, he can’t read the title, but Vio reads it for him. “It says ‘ The Forms of Force .’ This one I happened to be a peer reviewer of.”

“What’s that mean?” Hyrule asks, not familiar with the term.

“Which one, Force or peer review?”

Well…

“Both actually, but I figured you’d explain Force since it’s what the book’s on but…” Hyrule shrugs.

Vio scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there's a smirk that Hyrule can only really hope to assume is the happy kind. “You need to stop hanging out with Legend, his snark is rubbing off on you.”

“Is not!”

“Is too, now listen up.” The traveler receives a playful shove before Vio opens the to the first page, one adorned with names. “This is the author. He actually wrote the tome.” He points to the first name. “Down here–” he gestures to the list of names below the author’s under a different section “–are the people who know a thing or two about this specific subject, and they’ve vilified its legitimacy. I helped peer review it.”

“Ohhh! So this is like super smart things!” Hyrule shifts in his seat with excitement. “And I'm just allowed to see this? Isn't this entire area supposed to be off limits?”

“Well. . .” Vio pulls up the corner of the pages, looking for a specific one, “Assuming it'll help on our quest, I assume Zel- Dot won't be too unwilling to share with one of the Heroes of Hyrule.”

The aforementioned hero rubs the back of his neck. It's not that Hyrule isn't used to it by now, being called a hero, but it doesn't feel right. He doesn't feel like a hero.

“Ah, here.” Vio flips the pages open somewhere halfway in the book. “The phenomenon you've been experiencing is a peculiar one. You're essentially able to feel the minuscule amounts of Force emitted by the actions of other beings. It's rare to be attuned with these natural forces, so you can consider it a blessing.”

…

“Hey, Vio?”

“Hyrule?”

“What did any of that mean?”

There’s a moment where Vio forgets to breathe as he suddenly realizes just how much the traveler doesn’t know. Which is fair, considering how absolutely naive he tends to be over the most basic of things. And while a list should be in order…

New information! New information! Learning! Learning!

After a deep, deep breath in, Vio flips all the way back to the beginning of the book and begins to summarize. “Force is the essence that makes up all things, living or not. Every time an action is performed by someone or something, an amount of their Force is expelled.”

Okay, so action-reaction stuff. Hyrule’s following. “... It's not just movement either. Emotions can factor into this. If someone’s overcome with a surge of joy or clash swords, their Force is left behind as a sort of trail.” He pauses for a breath before continuing, “The amount of Force directly correlates to the ‘weight’ of the action, or how much emotion or energy the person puts behind that action. Just by us talking about this leaves behind Force, but it’s such a small amount it’s not detectable to the vast majority of people, if at all. Unless of course you're unimaginably emotional about this lesson.”

“So…” Gears turn in Hyrule’s head, carefully putting things in terms he can understand, “me doing this –” he starts waving his hand around in the air “–leaves behind this Force stuff , but not a lot?”

“Yes.”

“And if I were to like- Wait – is that what the Tri force is?!” It clicks in Hyrule’s brain. Crystallization of an action depending on how influential the action is. “Creating the whole world is a big thing, right?”

Vio’s eyes light up as he nods. “Yep, that’s basically it.”

That’s so cool…

“Most Hylians don’t exert that much Force, usually it's the same amount across whatever we do. But the Goddesses do as they wish, and there’s always exceptions when they hold that kind of power,” Vio explains while flipping a few pages. “But yes, creating the world is a ‘big thing.’ And the result was the Triforce manifesting itself from such an act.”

That’s so cool…

“Okay, that makes sense…” Hyrule muses, looking over the new page with a depiction of the Golden Three and the Triforce, the images split up by blocks of text.

Vio just lets Hyrule look over the page, understanding that thirst for knowledge, but it’s clear he’s still giddy about getting to explain it to a willing audience. “Should we go over Force trails now, or do you still want to look at the pictures?”

“Oh yeah! Let’s do that!”

More page turns. “In layman’s terms, I think you are able to detect the small amount of force that people emit as they’re going about their day. You might consider it wisps of energy or magical signatures as that’s a way people who’ve also experienced this have called it.”\

Well that’s familiar. “In Warrior’s time, when we first got to Castle Town-”

“–When you almost passed out.”

“Yes, that! It was like everything everyone was doing was so loud, sorta?” Hyrule finishes, shrugging his shoulders a bit.

“Yes, so you can see them,” Vio nods, looking like he’s making a mental note. “I had made the assumption, but wasn’t sure how to bring it up until you started babbling to yourself.”

And there’s his embarrassment again. “How much of that did you hear..?”

“When you started talking, duh.” Apparently it’s Vio’s turn with the snark.

“Haha,” Hyrule mocks dryly, “give me a real answer.”

“When you started talking about ghosts or whatever.” Vio snaps the book closed – a real feat considering it’s pretty hefty – and stands to put it away. “But I take–” he lets out a long yawn, “–opportunities to educate.”

Hyrule nods before yawning himself, sleepiness finally catching up with him. “We should head to bed, huh?”

“That we should,” Vio smiles softly.

“Hey.” Sky’s voice stirs Warriors awake. “Stop moving, or I’ll give you an actual scar.” 

It’s nothing beside murmurs, but considering the three are sharing a single room for the night (Wind begged the two) it’s not hard to overhear. “Stop talkin’ and maybe I will!” the seaman squeals back, failing miserably to be quiet. “Just shave it down already!”

Whatever paternal instincts leftover from babysitting Tune and Mask suddenly take over. All his tiredness evaporates as Warriors flings his blanket off to see what in Nayru’s name is going on.

Honestly he didn’t know what to expect, but the two troublemakers sitting at the small dining table actively trying to shave down the notch in Wind’s eyebrow is not his first thought.

Warriors narrows his eyes in disbelief with his mouth slightly agape, the pair staring back before he throws the blanket back over himself. The captain doesn’t need to ask, and certainly has no right to judge.

“No no no! ” Wind jumps off his chair and leaps onto the bed, looking more panicked than Warriors had ever seen him before. “ Promise you won’t tell anyone, a soul! Don’t utter a peep! ”

The boy proceeds to rip the blanket off the captain and is met with his death stare.

Wind proceeds to slowly, gently lay the cover back over Warrior’s face of death. He carefully back crawls off the bed with a very hushed apology.

Finally, the captain is back in his rightful place for this time of night – under the warm blankets with a fluffy pillow under his head. Wind and Sky are much, much quieter now – at least in comparison to what the noise had been previously. 

But, a thought comes into his head as the two converse on the other side of the small room. Wind never got a cut across his eye in the war, Warriors made sure of it. Only Tune did. And considering the timeline Warriors is slowly forming in his head, it must have only been a f ew months since he went back to his time.

Much too short of a time for a scar to heal, fairy and potion factored in, especially in the facial area.

For the first three months there's discoloration and puffiness. With the healing there’s still a mark, at least for a year if it heals well after.

Something’s not adding up.

Rolling the blanket back, Warriors swings his feet to the floor standing up off the bed. It takes a minute – and his foot is asleep – but he starts walking over to sit across the table from Wind and Sky. The two look at him (Wind with nervousness, and Sky like an attentive soldier) and freeze in place.

Warriors holds out his hand. “Give me the razor.”

Sky promptly hands it over, much to Wind’s annoyance.

Pinching the blade between his thumb and pointer and holding it in front of him Warriors leans across the table with a brow raised. “You don’t have an injury, why fake it?”

Wind shifts with adolescent embarrassment. “I thought it would be cool, and would make me seem like a better hero?” He’s not even sure of the answer himself.

Warriors shifts his gaze to Sky as if asking the same thing.

“He told me the same thing,” Sky shrugs. “I just wanted to make sure he didn’t cut himself.”

A sigh escapes Warriors’ lips. “I can’t tell you what to do, nor do I have a right to.” He slides the razor across the table back to Wind. “But I can implore you to consider the weight of changing your appearance, and ask you to reconsider.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wind snaps back, his ego bruised slightly. “Between you and everyone else, I’m just a kid, I have no real proof of my victories!” The chair skids slightly as he stands. “But I guess you don't either, do you?! Do you just want to be better than me?!”

Sky reacts to Wind’s outburst, putting his hand in front of him in an attempt to settle everyone down. “Wind please, you're victories are real I promise-”

“No they’re no-”

Warriors lays his hand on the table, hard enough to interrupt the two but not enough to wake anyone else in nearby rooms. “... Can I show you something, Wind? You too, Sky.”

“I don't see the point, but do it I fucking guess?”

“If you want.”

Warriors stands back up and makes his way to the somewhat haphazardous stack of equipment the three had piled up. He grabs his magic pouch – the fancy embroidered one – and reaches inside, fetching a vial of a clear yet shimmery liquid and handkerchief.

“The crap is that? Some stupid potion?” Wind snarks, still in a sour mood.

Warriors – who's found his place back in his chair – gently places the vial on the table. “It's not a potion, but it does reverse the effect of a certain magically enhanced substance I use.”

Wind raises a brow. “You on drugs or some shit?” he chuckles, which earns him an elbow in the side from Sky.

Warriors uncaps the bottle and pours some of the liquid out onto his hands before rubbing them together. “No, I'd never ruin my good looks like that.” The liquid suds up a bit before he lathers it on the left side of his face from his cheekbones to bottom of his jaw. “Not anymore than it is already.”

In the lather, something the color of Warriors’ complexion is picked up and washed away. There's something else underneath, a bit more pinkish than the rest of his skin. But it's only when he swipes the rest away with his handkerchief that it becomes really visible.

It's a nasty scar – one mostly healed – but still goes from almost the bottom of his eye down his jaw. Wind can tell it must've hurt, and Sky looks at it in sheer horror.

“When the fuck did this shit happen? How did nobody notice?” the seaman immediately starts stammering out with a mixture of confusion and weird fomo induced rage. “Wait a minute-”

“Yea, it was then.” Warriors’ gaze quickly glances over to Sky and then snaps back onto Wind. “I was lucky we had to visit the Great Fairy then, or otherwise I wouldn't have had her sister's help.” He traces the scar, phantom pains transporting him back to the moment he was wounded – back to the War Across the Ages.

The sky islands of Skyloft, Volga and Ghirahim, Fi and the Goddess Sword. It's not something to easily forget, and it certainly wasn't easier in Lana or Impa’s groups either. Both of them had to deal with other portals in different times, too. 

He remembers placing Wind and Tune in Lana and Impa's groups respectively. At the time, it made sense strategically, but he ended up being glad to be able to hide himself getting hurt like that.

Bloodied is not a good look for Warriors, and it's certainly not a good look for the newly appointed forward captain.

“So, you hid it,” Wind states. There's a sorrow there, but Warriors can't exactly place why.

Sky opens his mouth to speak, pausing for a brief moment. “Is it hard to hide that?” He motions to the left side of his face. “Keeping it covered up, being perfect I guess?”

It's a question that shocks him.

He's never thought about it.

“I just do, I guess,” Warriors says, his voice trailing off into a mutter.

“Do you want to?” Sky continues.

“. . . I don't know anymore.” 

It seems quieter than before. He can hear the harsh wind outside as it blows through the distant trees. 

It sounds like it's cold. 

But before he knows it, he's getting a nice warm hug from the salty sea and a feathery cloud. It's so nice, he fails to realize one thing.

They're hugging him because he's crying.

Chapter Text

A familiar smell wafts around him as Legend’s eyes blink open. He finds so much comfort in it – the bitter aroma matching perfectly with spices – reminding him of a quaint coffee shop and preparing battle plans. That table in the corner feels like forever ago, sitting with Time and Warriors. 

But it’s only been a few days.

In retrospect, it was a fruitless attempt, the entire city was burnt to a crisp.

They were too late.

He’s always a little too late.

A groggy moan escapes his lips while he pushes himself into a sitting position on the mattress. The first thing he notices is Wild sitting focused at the table in the exact spot they were last night. They're hovering over a mug, pouring some sort of foam on top of what Legend assumes to be a pumpkin spice latte.

A glance from them with slightly raised eyebrows is enough of a signal for the vet to let him know they're acknowledging he’s finally awake. It’s more of a good morning than the chef usually gives, so he’ll take it.

Legend stretches his back as he fully sits up, feeling a series of pops in his spine. Generally, a sound he’s used to hearing, but the supportive bed Princess Dot graciously let them all sleep in definitely helps. There’s still that lingering pain, sure, but that doesn’t stop him from kicking his feet over the side of the bed and getting up.

Wild finishes up topping off the mug while Legend meanders on over. Heat hits his face as he looks at the top of the hot coffee. The foam has been carefully shaped into a little apple as it was poured.

A shared interest.

“Thanks,” Legend says, emotions completely overwhelming his ability to say more. “It’s nice. Really.”

‘I was going to see if they’ll let me use the kitchen for Sky's tea,’   Wild signs in response, only pausing to push themselves up out of their seat. ‘If you want to come.’

Maybe it's the idea of food, or a need to still try and make up for how he's treated Wild, but a walk with them does sound nice. “I’ll come, but you’re still going to make me another cup of this when I'm done.” Legend grabs the mug of coffee and takes a sip.

Goddess damn bliss in a cup.

The chef nods, and the two make their way out the room into the hallway. Everyone was put in one of the rooms here aside from the Colors, they apparently have their own shared room here in the castle. It makes sense, from what Legend knows of them, they do a lot of work with the faculties here.

At least Vio does.

“Wild, Legend.” Speak of the Moblin and so he appears – with Green. “Good to see you two up.”

“We’re rounding everyone together for breakfast,” Green starts, flowing off his fellow Color like wind. “Twilight’s finally conscious enough to form proper sentences. Time wants us all to be there so there’s no need to repeat him saying what happened.”

Makes sense. “We were just about to head down,” Legend shrugs. “Is everyone else there already?”

A groan from Green, but Vio replies; “Wind and Sky are still fast asleep according to Warriors, but everyone else is!”

“Good luck with those two.” Legend rolls his eyes, knowing full well what happens when you try to wake those beasts.

Down the hall and some steps, Wild lifts their hands as they turn a corner. ‘They’ll be a while.’

‘No shit.’ The vet lets out a chuckle.

There’s real silence for a bit, only filled by the sound of boots on tile as the pair walk to the dining room on the other end of the hall. The door is slightly ajar, and voices begin to echo through the hall. Legend wouldn’t call the voices distinctly hushed per say, but definitely toned down a tad.

“You're kidding me?” Warrior’s voice, his tone bordering on enraged. “We can’t just sit here in a castle, letting those things run around. Green’s already stated the black-blooded creatures are here, and you’re insisting on letting them just roam about unchallenged?”

Legend reaches his hand out to push the door fully open, only stopped by Wild grabbing his arm. A quiet way to tell him to wait.

“It’s not out of negligence, cap’,” Time responds as Wild and Legend peek through the door. “But we are in no shape to go on an offensive. No matter how you arrange or split parties, the issue is we still don’t know our enemy well enough.”

“I am aware, ” The captain rebuttals with a snarl in his tone, voice finally rising, “But we will not wait around for another city to be burnt to a crisp by that abhorrent abomination!”

“I refuse to put the Chain in any more risk!” Time snaps back, finally losing the cool face he’s clearly tried so hard to maintain.

Warriors rolls his head and scoffs. “While I'm out here trying to save the timeline again you’re making pet names for our group, pretty. ” He spits.

Oh. Goddesses.

The rage is palpable. Like a thick mist in a dark forest.

Legend pushes forward crossing the door’s threshold, feeling like he’ll have to be the one to stop these two from fighting. Sacred Realm forbid they break apart now, and the leaders too. This is not the time, or place-

Blue slams his hand on the table, hard enough to rattle plates and cutlery alike. “You two need to just do a Shadow Battle already!” He yells as Red is quick (too quick in Legend’s opinion) to offer soothing back rubs. “It’s petty to keep arguing while some of us are trying to eat!”

The dining room goes silent – aside from Red’s silent coos of comfort and pleas for Blue to sit back down – as everyone seems to pick one phrase out of Blue’s rage.

“What’s a Shadow Battle?” Hyrule asks, placing orange slices back onto Twilight's plate (who still seems out of it, but much better than the night before.) with the rest of his breakfast. From the looks of it, the traveler is finding more and more food to place on Twilight’s plate. Not too dissimilar to how Legend would make him eat before.

“It’s like…” Blue starts, rolling his head to the side and spinning his hand in the air, seemingly searching for words. “A mock fight. We use them to settle disagreements. Winner gets the right to choose.”

Red chimes in with an upbeat hum. “We usually ask Shadow to make trapdoors and stuff to add some extra fun but…” That cheer turns sour, for a moment. “Maybe we can try a normal sparring match?”

Legend is frankly appalled at the whole idea of using a rigged up arena to settle disputes, but it’s also not too far off from a Hero’s regular duty. Fighting for the future of something. Perhaps it's just ingrained into their minds, to fight for their choices.

It does sound appealing, to an extent.

But it's also not Legend's choice right now. 

All eyes shift to Time and Warriors. 

The captain shifts uncomfortably at the idea of fighting Time. He probably knows something about his fighting capabilities Legend and some of the others do not. The two do seem familiar with each other.

The old man, on the other hand, has no discernible reaction to the suggestion. He almost seems confident in his chances of winning.

“I'll do it.” The two say in unison.

“Are we Shadow Battling?!” An excited Green chimes in from the doorway, Vio, Sky, and Wind in tow.

“Quiet…” Sky mumbles, almost walking straight into the door frame until Vio redirects him.

Wind walks straight up to Wild, roughly placing his forehead on their midsection in exhaustion. “If were fightin’ I vote to fight Vio. He took my blanket!” The sailor whines, nuzzling his face more into the uneasy chef.

“It was cold…” Sky adds, recounting the very clearly traumatic memory of being forced to wake up.

Hyrule gets up and pulls a chair out as Vio guides a half lidded Sky to it before gently prying Wind off Wild. “C’mon, they need to make Sky some tea. Let's get some food and listen to Twi.”

Oh Goddesses.

Legend is not looking forward to the upcoming talk.

Even if it is important.

Chapter Text

Twilight feels like his plate keeps getting filled, but is too weary to see by whom. He’s too focused on the argument. The one between Time and Warriors, the one he can’t seem to process the meaning of aside from ‘we need to help.’

And he can’t right now.

Then one of the Fours – Blue – slams the table. More yelling. Twilight supposes they’re dueling now. Sure, he and Rusl had mock fights all the time. Seems fun, a good way to lift spirits. 

Even if Twilight fully knows it’s to settle the argument from earlier.

There's silence for a bit. A few minutes where he can prepare himself. A few minutes where Wild makes him some coffee (a pumpkin spice latte, whatever that means), and Sky his tea. A few minutes where Legend gets another cup of caffeine and it all seems to happen so fast.

A few minutes to ignore the persistent buzzing in his ears.

He finally manages to finish the last of the orange slices on his plate when he gets addressed.

“Are you ready to tell us what happened?” Warrior’s voice. Twilight looks around, not really recognizing the faces. Everyone looks like a fuzzy blob where the features of a Hylian face should be. But he can hear, and he can smell.

He’s never been more happy to have those lupine senses in his life.

But there’s a dull throbbing pain in his hand and arm.

Twilight is doing his best to remember everything, but it’s only bits and pieces. Even if it is up to him, even if he could unlock that one important bit of information he knows is locked away somewhere in his skull, he’s not sure he can.

He looks down at his coffee like a pathetic, guilty lap dog.

“He took the form of an old friend. Midna. We didn’ get a proper goodbye an’ all-” He starts, just allowing the words to flow out. “I had told myself I wasn’ gonna- Since she was with me durin’ my quest.”

His eyes gaze up for a moment, darting between his companions as he absentmindedly counts. He’s still confused by the extra Fours – they've all been calling them the Colors – but at least the number hasn’t shrunk. Nobody is missing, that’s what matters.

“But then, I- And I fel’ like I had-” Twilight stumbles over his sentences, trying to form some sort of structure that makes sense for the experience. “It was like she- he was all I could focus on. Seeing her. I wanted to-”

His head is throbbing, and the prior dull pain in his hand and arm are really making itself known. He gently holds his palm – the one wrapped gently in bandages that was (according to the others) driven clean through – and tries to rub it to soothe the pain.

But that just irritates it more.

“He brought me- led me t’ a cave. One that was empty during that time. I hadn' been there-” sentences come out chopped and cut, stringing into each other sloppily as they exit Twilight's mouth. “A place I- never again. But I wanted to see her. I couldn' not-”

There's a hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circular motions. Twilight doesn't need to look up to know its Hyrule. 

“I was in the cave an’ then I was- against the wall. Hurt. He-” Twilight tenses up, recalling the way claws dug into his scalp, the feeling of blood clotting in his hair. The struggle to keep his eyes open, gasping for air that he felt like would never come. “Said I didn' understand. And he wouldn’ repeat.”

“Repeat what?” Time questions, finally taking the talking role from Twilight for a moment (which he's grateful for.) 

Twilight opens his mouth to respond, wanting to respond, needing to respond. But he just furrows his brows, eyes darting across the dining room table searching for the words.

“I don' remember.”

He raises his hands and claws at the side of his head, digging into his scalp, the one The Shadow harmed all the same. He searches his brain through the endless fog for the words, the actions, what caused these wounds and why his gut is telling him it's so important. He needs to remember and he can't. 

There's nothing there, nothing in that time frame between awake and wary and passed out and afraid. Nothing in the gap, no piece to slot into place. It's like it was lost to the Twilight Realm never to be seen again.

Unobtainable.

But it has to be, so Twilight keeps digging, keeps scratching at his head until a hand grabs his wrists.

Twilight opens his eyes and looks for who the hands belong to.

Tracing the arm back to the owner, he smells Hyrule, hears Hyrule.

But he sees the scar on the lips, pulled into a smile. Splitting into a toothy grin. Saying wordless words without sound or meaning because Twilight can't remember.

And that smile horrifies him.

Breaths start to increase and it feels like there's not enough air.

There's no air in his lungs.  

Sounds, talking in panicked tones surround him but then-

Another face, the eye, Time's eye. No, wait. That's-

There's two, two evils. Right there and-

A red cloth goes over his head.

Hyrule's poncho.

“I'm going to lead you back to your room, okay?” Hyrule's kind, gentle voice chimes in. In the back of Twilight's mind, he can see him, remember his face.

And a sudden calm rushes over him.

Hyrule’s arm hooks under his as small footsteps patter behind them. Four – one of them – is doing his best attempt to scoot everyone and make space. In a way, despite being blinded, Twilight can see everyone move through the room. He likes seeing, but–

All he could see was him.

“Cmon, move yourselves and talk all smart while we get Twi over here to somewhere better for him!” Four’s aggressive voice rings out as Hyrule helps him past the door and out the dining room. “Shoulda known better, of course he’s gonna react like this! Idiots!”

And then, behind them, the door slams shut and Four huffs.

“Which-”

“Blue,” Hyrule answers Twilight's question. “I know, it’s still confusing for me.” There's a jovial tone in his voice, only overshadowed by the anxiety from what just happened. 

“Let's just get you somewhere else,” Blue chimes in from behind. “I’m seriously fed up with those guys this morning.”

Sky is left with his mouth agape. Feelings swirl in his gut, from confusion to concern and finally an overwhelming sense of the need to protect Twilight. But it’s not like he knows how, there's no physical evil to protect him from. And what could be done was already put into action by Hyrule and Blue.

And now there's just a tense silence.

One Sky finally manages to break. “Did anyone-”

“Know he was gonna pop like that? No,” Legend retorts, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How the fuck were we supposed to?”

‘Did nobody bother to ask him about it beforehand?’ Wild signs, an expression of exasperation giving tone to the words. ‘We could have avoided that mess.’

Everyone seems to agree in one way or another. Nodding, affirmative hums, or just staring at their laps in Wind’s case. Poor kid, just trying his best. Sky feels for Wind deeply.

“I suppose while everyone else is here, we should pool information together,” Warriors declares, taking charge of the dreary situation. “Vio, Legend. While I understand your main purpose was not pertaining to our situation last night. Did you find anything useful in the library?”

“No…” Vio starts, “but Hyrule and I did discover another rare ability of his...”

—

Bed, comfort, safety. Familiar scents from when Time fell asleep in the chair on the other side of the room. The sound of Blue setting up the pillows so Twilight can sit up comfortably in bed. A mug being set on the nightstand. Hyrule’s quiet and gentle guidance made louder by the lack of vision, sight still covered by his poncho.

He puts his hand out, finally finding a seat on the bed.

“So,” Blue starts in a sort of aggressive tone. “What the fuck was that?”

“Say it nicer, Blue!” Hyrule bites back, but only to defend Twilight. 

“Oh shut it, fairy dust – this is me being nice!” the Color fights back, almost falling into the same cycle Time and Warriors had earlier. “Sorry… It came out wrong, but this is important.”

That… is fair.

“Everyone– on edge,” Twilight finally says, managing to get words out his mouth again. He knows what he says is the truth, nobody is really themselves right now, at least not compared to a week ago. Anyone would struggle with.. All this. “Sorry.”

“No, no Twi, it’s not your fault!” Hyrule’s body weight pushes down on the mattress beside him. “I feel like it’s mine, I hesitated and-”

“Oh hush your damn mouth,” Blue starts, “if anything we, Four, is at fault. We didn't notice in time either.”

This is going to end as a pity party with no end. “Can we agree– all at fault?”

…

“We just nodded,” Blue snarks, getting a chuckle out of the other two.

“Right,” Twilight smiles softly.

“Wait, before you go back to sleep or whatever brain damaged ranchers do, drink this.” Blue takes Twilight's hand, guiding his fingers around the warm mug. The scent from the coffee before fills his nose. It sort of makes him feel more blind than before. “I brought it up, you better at least try it.”

Twilight makes a drawn out humming noise, feeling his eyebrows raise. But, despite the aggressive language Blue takes, he thinks from a good place, so he raises the mug to his lips under the poncho.

And Spirits be damned, this is good!

It's a pumpkin! In a cup! In a cup of coffee! Pumpkin! Twilight love’s pumpkin! He loves this latte thing!

He lowers the mug.

“Can I get more?”

Chapter Text

Wild can’t help but find the idiocy in everyone right now.

Too much self interest and entitlement still lingering in a room supposed to be filled with breakfast and morning beverages. And after the sound of blame and apologies to someone not even here finally finished, the drawing up of lots and organization of brackets begins.

Even Legend’s getting into it.

Rationalizations of learning each other's skills, settling disputes, and practicing new moves all ring in Wild’s ears, leaving them in a state of half annoyance and half intrigue. After all, seeing who would win in a tournament style bracket is something that does peak their interest a tad.

And it's obviously keeping everyone else’s interest, well enough in fact for Wild to slip out into the light adorned halls of the palace. Empty, but alive. Lived in. Used. Unlike ruins of places long gone back at home. Fascinatingly enough, even the Royal Palace back in their Hyrule is half empty. Partially unused due to the ongoing struggle to repair it.

Just lingering rubble, waiting to become new rubble.

That's what Wild told Zelda, anyways.

Footsteps echoing from their boots with each step they take. Dust dancing in the air, catching light as wind sweeps it around from the open windows. Banners depict small creatures hiding various items under rocks, in grass as Wild walks past, catching their gaze.

This is a quest. Exploration, a union of senses to fully absorb one big scene: how chilled air causes goosebumps on their skin, how the morning dew smelled, how their hair whisks over their face in the open breeze.

Wonderful feelings they can’t get from sight alone.

Their feet reroute themselves to one of the many window sills on a whim. They want to jump, to open up their glider and for the first time in months, to leave the ground and touch the sky. To break their fall with a roll or stumble through the grass. Chasing after critters and insects out of the sheer curiosity of it all.

So Wild does just that.

Hoisting themselves up, carrying that momentum over into a leap down, down, but not too far down as their glider catches the weight. A simple tug on the sinew in their wrists is enough to jog memories sanctioned away – not Link’s, but their own. Memories left behind when Wild found out what they had to do.

What they didn’t choose to do, but what had to be done.

When the torch of burden was passed from Link to Wild.

Exploration.

Legend would rather be doing anything else at the moment, finding the mere notion of being in formal court repulsing.

But no! Dot wants to see you, says Green. She requests your presence, he says. Din fuck him sideways if she's found out. There’s a reason he left the castle and took on a new life, a humble one. 

But he just keeps getting pulled back in, roped into royal affairs he wants no part of. A constant tug from around his waist, yanking and drawing him away from his home. From his freedom.

And more recently, away from Ravio.

At least he can look forward to the tournament afterwards. The drawn lots have him pit against Wind – not Legend’s first choice – and he’s curious to see what the pipsqueak has in store. He's certainly scrappy at the least.

‘Later,’ Legend reminds himself, steeling his nerves as he draws closer to the gold adorned door. The entrance to the throne room, a gilded prison. Thoughts race in the hero's brain as he steps forward, guards tapping their halberds in unison on the stone flooring before pushing open the door. It's the ceremony of it – Legend remembers as his back stiffens – of having a proper audience with the acting ruler of Hyrule. 

It's almost like for a moment, he can picture his father on the throne, scowling at him. Him, small, attempting to control a magic rampant in his core while juggling the affairs of a royal child. Ridiculed and chastised.

And then the heavy doors slam behind him.

Princess Dot stands before the throne, hand brushing against the velvet of the arm and passing over the golden accents. There's a solemn look as she turns, pulling her hand to her chest. It's easy to miss the hints of emotions of such a small woman with a fashion style so big.

“You were aware of the usage of middle names to address women and girls in the Royal family, were you not?” She's proper in her tone, but curious. Not because she hasn't refined her court voice, but because she's choosing to let loose. 

Legend narrows his eyes, unsure of how much to trust this sense of familiarity. “Does simply asking for another way to address her highness to avoid confusion warrant accusing me of knowing the royal family’s secrets?”

“So tense!” the princess chuckles with a lighthearted smile. “Green was right, you are prickly.”

Prickly??

“Your highness-”

“Ah- it’s Dot,” she interrupts Legend holding her hand up. “It’s just Dot. And you can try to hide your teachings, but you can’t hide your blood.”

She’s right. He lets out a heavy sigh, relinquishing any attempts to change Dot’s mind. “Yea, I was born into the Royal Family, what of it?”

“Oh there's the snark!” Dot smiles as her heels clink on stone. “It’s alright to have a disdain for this life, the politics suck ass.” She gently takes hold on Legend’s hands, cupping them in hers. So gentle and disarming, those dainty fingers. “But what matters is that you know that, because of your lineage, you hold a special power.”

“But I'm not a gi-”

“Not the power of the Goddesses! Goodness, did they not teach you?!” Dot chastises, but not at Legend specifically, at those she hasn’t even met but knows exist. “The Lightforce, silly!”

“Did Shadow name that too?” He’s quick on the comeback, still not quite sure if the quip is from self defense or relaxation.

“No, no, but I'm sure it's where he got the name for your current little problem from,” she shrugs, rubbing one of her thumbs over his hands. “I’m sure you've seen the murals from around the palace, depicting the hero before our time.”

“Sky?”

“Oh no, after him,” she carries on with the story, “The Hero of Men, they call him. Together with my great great grandmama they locked away evil using the Picori blade and the Lightforce, respectively.”

“You mean the Trifor-”

“No! Listen!” She draws out each syllable. “Lightforce! I'd never confuse the two! One of those boys taught you about force already, did they not? Oh please!” Her grip tightened around his hands. “You boys and your secrets, it’ll be the end of you!”

Legend raises an eyebrow, narrowing his eyes as a signal for Dot to continue. 

“Force is the essence of all things, the Lightforce is the condensed essence of all things ‘light’, just like how monsters are made of all this ‘dark’, or malice. It's a pure and opposite magic to that of monsters.”

“So basically my blood is poison to monsters.”

“Well, it’s more than that, but yes.”

“And it runs in the royal family, including males.”

“Yes.”

“Does it also come with shit magic reserves?”

“No?”

“So that’s just a problem for me.”

“Yes.”

“I fucking hate my father.”

The buttery smell of pastries and caramelized hams find their way into Wild’s nostrils as they walk through the crowd in the bustling city. Not quite as full as the last ‘city’ of a similar size they’d been to, but also not as empty as Time’s.

They cut through an alleyway, which looked as if a blade had cut the building in half. A quicker path they used prior despite the screaming in the back of their skull to stay somewhere seen. The path is half shrouded in light, directly down the middle. An imaginary line Wild finds joy in trying to walk on. A balancing act. One foot in front of the other, keeping their arms out slightly, enough to ensure balance.