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Chapter Text

“Anyone recognize this Hyrule?” asks Time.

Wild only has to do a quick glance around before shrugging and answering with a confident, “Nope!” He makes sure to pop the ‘p’.

He knows for certain that this is not his era. They are on a rather large island, from what he can see. To one side, a sea stretches as far as the eye can see. On the other, there is a small bridge with what seems to be some sort of watchtower. From where he is, though, Wild can’t tell if someone is atop it. Some rocks are jutting out through the surface of the water next to a bridge, which is connected to another part of the island. Perhaps an entirely different island altogether? There are a few buildings across the bridge.

Anyway, the only things from Wild’s time that this can possibly resemble are Lurelin village or maybe Eventide Island. But he’d recognized both easily anytime— he has gone to Lurelin for massages countless times. And Eventide didn’t have houses. Or a tower. Or any Hylian-made structures for that matter, minus the Sheikah shrine that used to be there.

There’s a groan to his left, and Wild barely manages to catch Four as they pass out. That, Wild supposes with a grimace, is much better than vomiting. He can’t suppress wince at the splattering sound to his right.

Hyrule and Four were the most affected by the portals— the chain had learned that very quickly. Most likely because of high amounts of magic, but if that was the case then why wasn’t Legend just as incapacitated? Experience? No one truly knew. Wild and Time were the least affected. Wild, due to one too many fast travels via Sheikah magic, and what everyone assumed was simply years of experience for Time. The other four fell somewhere in between.

Wild gently lowers the smithy onto the sandy ground. A pang of guilt strikes him for a moment— perhaps he shouldn’t be placing them down? Sand was itchy, and was an ass to get off your body and out of your clothes. He shakes himself. No. Four will understand.

Wild turns around to see if anyone is tending to Hyrule. Unsurprisingly, Legend is already there, holding the traveler still as they gag out their lunch. Wild wrinkles his nose distastefully— the kid was thin enough as is.

There are five ‘no’s in response to Time’s question. Hyrule’s is a weakened, tired groan and Four can’t even respond at all. Wild doubts this world is theirs, though. It lacked the same pretty, gentle magical feel. The feeling that could only be described as light was only present in their era. He voices this.

“New Link, then?” Sky wonders. For anyone else, it could be described as a half-interested obligatory question. Not Sky. Sky always seemed to be full of a gentle, almost childlike wonder. It almost never failed to soothe Wild’s nerves.

“How many heroes does that bit— she need?” Legend hisses bitterly. His tone is very different from the gentle manner in which he is holding Hyrule and passing them a stamina elixir. Green potion. Whatever.

Sky frowns but makes no further comment.

Next to Wild, Four groans. The champion’s eyes snap to the smaller hero immediately.

“Four?” He asks, “You with us?” He just manages to bite back the ‘bud’ he’d planned to add. The smith wouldn’t appreciate it.

Four gives a grin and an unconvincing and very uncoordinated thumbs up. It’s mildly concerning, but they’re always delirious for a few minutes and Wild decides to let it slide. They’ll be fine in a minute. Hopefully. He offers an apologetic smile as the smithy pushes themselves to their feet and irritably brushes sand of their tunic and neck.

They take a tiny look around, “Not mine,” they confirm. Wild pumps a silent fist in triumph.

Time, no doubt on edge because of the new territory, stays calm. He opens his mouth to say something but—

“HEY!” Shouts a voice, high-pitched like that of a child, “Who are you?”

Chapter Text

The entire chain whips around in near-perfect synchronization.

There stands a little kid, maybe around the age of ten or eleven. They wore a knee-length blue dress, decorated in tropical red flowers. The dress seemed much more appropriate for this climate than some of the chain’s outfits— it exposed the kid’s shoulders and fluttered loosely around their knees. They remind Wild a bit of himself, with their hands on their hips as they address the heroes. Their thumb is caught on a belt, strung in a loose, not-very neat manner across their waist and nearly slipping down. A spyglass is clipped to the bet, along with a few small pouches. A faint clanking sound can be heard as the kid— girl? adjusts their hand.

Rocks? Wild wonders. Seeds? Seashells?

A flush reddens the kid’s face— but they keep their determined glare and lock eyes with Time. The old man looks back calmly. They aren’t threatening in the slightest. They’re just barely taller than the smithy, and clearly no older than them. The blond, shoulder-length pigtails really only justified it. Wild has put his hair in pigtails countless times, don’t get him wrong. Still, in his… six years of experience, he’s found that the style was more popular with children. (A shame, really. It looked awesome.)

“Fuck did she come from?” Legend whispers, hoisting Hyrule to their feet.

“Who are you and what are you d— what. Uhm. What— State your business here!” they— she hisses. (Wild hated assuming ‘she,’ but if he’s honest, it’s a valid assumption.) Her voice wavers ever so slightly, but she doesn’t break eye contact with Time. It’s impressive, Wild must admit. Not even Twilight could keep eye contact with the old man for long.

“Wait,” the kid says suddenly. “Where’d you even come from? There’s no boat or nothing!” She squints suspiciously at them and absently raises her hand to scratch at the scars on her face. They’re not severe, but it looks like some sort of animal dug its claw in and *dragged* it across her face. Wild’s own claw scars from an eagle he may have gotten a *little* too close to itch in sympathy. “You’re not with G… Ganondorf are you?”

The majority of them flinch the slightest bit at the name. A sadness settles itself deep in Wild’s chest. This kid— she speaks like she knew Ganondorf. Maybe she hadn’t met him personally, but she says his name with more familiarity than is acceptable for someone so young.

“Because Link already delt with him enough,” She continues, oblivious to the memories and thoughts some of them were lost in. They all snap to attention at the name, though. “And he’s just starting to be normal again. He was sad for a long time, so I don’t want anything to make him sad again.”

Time smiles, and there is a distant sadness to it that Wild would’ve missed had he not been traveling with the guy for months. “No child, we are not allied with Ganondorf.”

“You know Link?” blurts Legend. Warriors swats and hisses at him, but the veteran hero ignores him.

The kid frowns, “He’s my big brother.” Her eyes widen. “Wait—”

A few of them giggle as she sputters to fix her mistake.

Time looks her in the eye and says, very seriously but not unkindly, “We mean no harm.”

“Are you pirate friends?” She mutters to herself, much to everyone’s confusion. Then, she sniffs and addresses them, “Promise?”

A small smile from the old man, “Pinky promise,” and raises a hand.

The kid doesn’t approach, but she raises her hand from where she stands a few meters away. She and Time mime a handshape with their pinkies stuck out.

Apparently, that’s all they needed to do to get the kid’s trust. She hops a bit closer, but she’s still a ways away. She still scratches her scars and keeps her hand near, but not on, a wooden hilt of a sword that Wild hadn’t even noticed.

“My name is—” She starts, before pausing. Squints at them again. “Tell me your names first,” She orders with a surprising amount of authority for a probably ten-year-old. Then again, she’d started down Time.

Sky cuts off Legend’s retort of “Well why should we tell you?” with a genuine smile and a soft, “My name is Sky. That’s Legend, Time, Twilight, Four, Warriors, Hyrule, and Wild.” Wild gives a tiny wave.

The kid stares at the traveler, “Isn’t that the name of the old kingdom before the flood?”

Hyrule’s smile falters, “W-what?” But she ignores them.

“My name’s Aryll,” she tells them, bouncing on her toes. The name tickles… something in the back of Wild’s mind. A memory blurs his vision for a split second but he shoves it back because he does not think he can deal with that right now. “You all have weird names, except Sky. His is sort of normal. Welcome to Outset Island!”

“Island where?” Twilight mutters.

Aryll giggles, “The Great Sea, silly!”

“Ah,” Twilight says as if he’s got any clue what she means.

“Link is on the beach over there,” she points to the other part of the island where the buildings— houses, probably— are. “He was staring at the waves. Uhm—” she frowns, “He does that lots.”

“How old is he?” Warriors asks.

“Thirteen.”

The group inhales sharply. The sadness blooming in Wild’s chest is all-consuming.

Thirteen is much too young.

“How long ago did he defeat Ganondorf?” asks Warriors, voice much quieter than it was just a moment ago.

Aryll thinks for a moment, rubbing her hand against her scars once again. “Less than a year, I think. Yeah.”

The captain is quiet for a long moment, “Can we see him?”

“Okay,” Aryll decides. “As long as you don’t take him from me. Or me from him again.” She turns away before she can see him flinch.

And then she’s leading them towards and across the bridge, chattering to Time about her favorite seagulls. The old man listens intently, and asks genuine questions. Aryll beams and giggles and never fails to answer.

Wild sees Legend listening in as well. He wears a solemn, sentimental expression.

Yeah, no. Wild will leave that to Rulie to unpack. He can already see the traveler sneaking up beside the veteran.

Wild can’t hear the details of the conversation. He’s floating towards the back of the group and falling into step beside a quiet but awake Four.

“Seems the new one’s younger than you, huh?” Wild asks. Four was the youngest by a silver. Hyrule, though they had no true idea how old they were, guessed they were around seventeen or eighteen. Four was sixteen and a quarter.

“Yes,” Four replies. Their eyes reflect different colors in the evening sun. Their thoughts take them again, and they don’t add anything.

Until they do. “Is this even Hyrule?” They wonder aloud. “Aryll— she said something about Hyrule being the old kingdom. Drowned.”

“Well, this Link defeated Ganondorf, so I think we can assume he’s a hero,” Wild reasons, twiddling with the buckle of his belt.

“Maybe it’s a type of post-apocalyptic world. Like mine, except it's been much longer than one hundred years,” he suggests. Pushes back any thoughts of someone being stuck in the shrine of resurrection for even longer than he was.

Four hums, “I suppose that’s possible. The world flooded, and people survived and adapted.” They go silent as their eyes flash violet again.

The walk is short, maybe a minute or three.

Soon enough they're standing behind a young boy in a blue tunic. His bright orange trousers are very different from the soft tan-brown color of the sand. He runs his hands slowly over the grains as if to ground himself.

“Link!” Aryll greets cheerfully, and the boy turns.