LoZ Shenanigans

Warriors gasped as the camp fell into silent shock.

Time's eyebrows rose slowly. "Oh-ho. Brave words, for a youth. You wanna bet 60 rupees on it, son?"

"You've got yourself a deal, Old Man."

The two men locked hands, staring each other down. Their faces were sharp. Stern. Unwavering…

…Until they burst into laughter. The men patted each other on the shoulders, and the whole camp breathed a sigh of relief at the mirth dancing behind their eyes.

Except for Sky.

Who was currently trying not to be sick.

Surely not... he'd misheard them, right? They couldn't mean... they hadn't said....

"You don't realize what you've just done, Twilight," laughed Warriors. "A bet with Time? Over milk of all things? I'm so sorry, but you, my friend, are doomed."

"Ordon milk is superior an' I'll die on that hill, Captain."

Oh goddesses. Oh golden three have mercy.

They were talking about milk.

Sky gritted his teeth as he tried to keep his stomach from rolling. What... what was...? Was this some future custom? And no one else seemed perturbed... Oh heavens. Was it common?!?

"Sky? You don't look so good..."

Wind's voice drew several eyes his way.

Hyrule hurried over. "Is something the matter?"

"And be honest this time, please," Legend added, the captain nodding firmly beside him.

 Sky fought for words. Wasn't the future supposed to be... more civilized? What barbaric customs had he just overheard?

Somewhere in his dried-up throat, he finally found his voice. "You said," he croaked, "you drink... milk? Regularly?!?"

The pure and vile disgust on Sky's face failed to impress the others. If anything, they just looked lost, maybe even amused.

"Maybe not regularly, but... why?" Four asked, decent enough to show at least some concern.

"Have you lost a battle to an expired jar of buttermilk, my friend?" Warriors smirked. Legend and a few others snickered.

"No, that's not...!" He couldn't even say what he meant, it was too revolting.

Suddenly, Twilight's face lit up in a revelation. “Wait, wait wait! Sky," he asked slowly, "if you’re used to living up in the air… do you know what a cow is? Or a goat?”

“I—No??? W-what does that have to do with… with… w-withbreastmilk?”

...

The camp exploded.

"OH MY GOSH! Oh my GOSH—" Legend cackled, stomping his foot in the grass as he keeled over from laughter. "No freaking way!"

“UGHHHHH! Gross, Sky!" Wind joined in, looking joyfully disgusted as he held his sides. "Eeeeewwww! Ahahaha!”

Wild had gone through about 5 different shades of pink as he flailed his arms around. "NO! Nononono! Sky, Sky, back up. Back WAY up, that’s not what I’m talking about!”

"Wrong milk!" Four howled. "Wrong milk!"

Twilight wheezed under his breath and ducked his head. "Spirits have mercy, no wonder you were so pale..."

Sky's disgust gradually morphed into confusion. "T-then, if not that, w-what are you talking about?"

"Not ‘breast milk’!" Warriors laughed, wiping away a tear.

“I mean!" Legend cried, rolling in the grass. "It kinda is!”

Hyrule groaned and covered his blushing face. "Oh, nooooooo!"

Time made a valiant effort to bite back his laughter. “H-hush, you. You know cow milk is far from the same thing.”

"Depends on how technical you wanna be!" Four snorted, descending helplessly into giggles.

Meanwhile, Sky was getting pale again. "U-UM."

Time decided to finally show him some mercy. "Sky, there's a few things I should explain about life in Hyrule..."

It took a while for Sky to understand what cows and goats were, and even longer to get over the renewed disgust of drinking their milk. (Because yes, Time, it was still... milk... even if it was from another creature.) However, Sky supposed it was a lot less barbaric than what he'd initially thought. It didn't seem to hurt anyone, either, as nasty as it sounded. And apparently you could bake things with it? That was a novel concept.

"Oh, no! I just realized!"

All eyes turned to the champion.

"Cheese! You've never had cheese! Now that's a travesty."

Sky cocked his head, almost afraid to ask, "What's... cheese?"

"Curdled, sometimes moldy milk that's drained until it's solid and chunky," Four explained happily.

Wild slapped himself in the forehead.

Nope. Never mind. Too much information.

"Nope nope nope nope goodnight never talk to me about this again. Thank you. Goodnight."

Sky threw his sailcloth over his head, not even bothering with his clothes as he flopped down onto his bed roll. He took a moment to appreciate whoever had unrolled it and placed it beside him while he'd napped.

"Noooooo Sky come back!" Hyrule giggled.

"Sky? Who's Sky? No Sky here. Just a poor sick man who's learned too much about cows tonight."

He heard more laughter spill over the campsite, followed by the tell-tale click! of Wild’s slate taking a picture. 

Sky couldn’t help but grin. If anyone had to be his successors, he was very glad it was them.

The Skyloftian was just about to nod off again when he heard the flop! of a bed mat being dropped and the small “oof!” of a warm body plopping down next to him. Sky peeked out from under his sailcloth. 

Wind smiled back.

"...You're not here to tell me more about cheese, are you?"

"Nope," said Wind. "I've just got older brother duties to fulfill."

"Older brother duties?"

"Yep! Think about it this way. We're all connected by spirit, right? That basically makes us family. And I have experience with family. Being a big brother's kinda my job description, besides all the pirating stuff."

Sky chuckled. "I'm not sure it works that way."

"I'm making it work that way, so there!"

Sky laughed harder, flinching as his lungs began to wheeze again. Shame swirled through his body at the awful honking noise.

"Sorry," he murmured, starting to pull away from Wind. 

The sailor stopped him. 

"Sky," he said quietly, gripping his sailcloth, "we all really care about you. You're a nice person, and like I said before, you're like family."

Wind looked down and picked at the mat. "...I'm also sorry about the potion thing earlier. It helped the blisters a lot, really. I just... wanted everyone to see that I'm strong, too, ya know? That I can pull my own weight."

Sky shifted closer to him. Wind wasn’t the only one.

"...Guess I kinda went about it the wrong way," Wind shrugged. He looked up at Sky with his big, green eyes, and the Chosen Hero could see only earnestness in them.

"Family cares about each other, Sky. So let us care for you, ok? That's nothing to be sorry about."

Sky studied the boy in front of him deeply. Wind was so young... but his eyes told stories of experience. He had wisdom beyond his years, and something about it felt so warm and familiar that Sky was sure his chest was melting. 

"C'mere, you," Sky lunged, encasing the boy in a cocoon of fabric. 

"UGH! SKY! LEMME GO!"

"NEVER! YOU'RE MINE NOW!"

"HEEEEEELP! THE UGLY DEKU PLANT'S GOT ME!!!"

"BWAHA—COUGH!—HAHA!"

If Sky heard another picture snap behind them, he ignored it. He poked his and Wind’s heads out from the sailcloth so they could breathe and laugh freely.

"You brought this upon yourself, you know," Sky said, his eyes twinkling.

Wind rolled his eyes. "I know, I know." He settled himself closer anyway.

Smiling, Sky unclipped his sailcloth and tucked it more tightly around Wind’s shoulders. A tiny voice in his head teased him, will you tuck your own children in this way, one day? and his chest fluttered all over again as he shoved the thought deep down. 

Wind let out a massive yawn. "G'night, Sky."

"'Night," Sky murmured sleepily. The weight of the day was finally crashing down upon him, pinning his lead limbs to the earth in the most comfortable way. Still, he couldn't resist one last...

"Don't let the deku plants bite."

Wind kicked him in the shins.

Sky cackled and smothered the writhing boy in his arms, locking him in his embrace. The little fledgling wasn't escaping this nest so easily!

After a few more punches, a few more pictures, and a chest full of laughter, the Skyloftian and the sailor began to succumb to their shared exhaustion. It wasn't long before the two islanders nodded their heads, finally slipping into the deep, blissful caress of sleep.

>>><<< 

To everyone's joy, they found the town the next day. They received some supplies and information, and per a nearly unanimous vote, some milk for Wild to use in his meals. It was also unanimously decided that Sky be forced to try some.

He took it. Only as repayment for all their kindness, but he drank it. It was... not as horrible as he'd thought it would be. Maybe even decent? He even began to apologize for his prior fuss...

...until he fell terribly ill. 

Wild said he must have been "lactose intolerant".

All Sky knew was he was never touching a glass of milk again.

>>><<<

Masterlist | First | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Author’s note: He's fine. They're all fine. They wean him onto cheese and milk eventually—it's like a group project. Or a nature documentary on the effects of dairy on your average Skyloftian. Sky is not amused.

(Sorry for my ridiculous animal science/biology science humor your regularly scheduled hurt/comfort appears in the next chapter, which turned out to be one of my favorites, and has some really fun action too! It's also a nice long one ^u^)

Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so Please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!

The sun had barely risen over the cloudless horizon, and already the air was inching towards the sweltering atmosphere of Lanayru Desert. The problem was, the air wasn’t dry. That he’d gotten used to from the few years he’d lived on the Surface. Instead, humidity rolled through the mid-morning sky like waves of invisible mist, sticking to every seam of Sky’s clothing and clogging his breath. His head swam as his high-altitude body tried to process the new climate. He’d never felt a heat wave like this before... except for, of course, in Eldin.

Sky grimaced. Funny how his fireshield earrings let him walk clean through the hearts of active volcanoes, but did nothing for above-average heat spells. Go figure.

Twilight let out a long whistle. “Feels like it’s gonna be a scorcher, boys.”

“Bring it!” Wind grinned, trotting past the rancher to get a better view of the vast, grassy hills before them. “We’ve had way hotter mornings out on the Great Sea!”

“Sounds delightful,” Legend grumbled.

Four pulled a face. “Sounds miserable.”

“It should!” Wind grinned. “That’s how we weed out the lily-livered. Only the toughest of sailors can brave the harsh days and frigid nights out on the water!”

Sky watched as the young sailor strutted around, puffing his chest out like a proud Loftwing. He smiled, letting Wind’s not-so-subtle boasting distract him from the heat a while.

If the rest of the heroes could handle the weather, then so could he. He had to. This was what the quest demanded, and he’d sell his precious carving tools before he let himself slow down the rest of his new team.

 And besides, Sky thought, the village can’t be that far away… can it?

>>><<< 

He was wrong. Very wrong.

Unlike Sky had hoped, their trek just kept going. Hyrule was a vast region, and the others seemed used to it. Every time Sky figured they would stop for a while to breathe, they kept walking, and the small breaks they did take were usually just quick checks for danger or direction. No village appeared over the horizon, no matter how hard Sky stared.

A cold dread seeped into his burning body as he began to understand what was happening. Yesterday was a test of courage. All those unusual monsters were proof of that. But today appeared to be a test of endurance. A test of stamina.

Sky shuddered internally. Oh joy.

This was probably the farthest he’d ever walked all at once without stopping, he realized. Skyloft certainly wasn’t this big, and even on his quest for Zelda, when he’d pushed himself to his limit, he’d had his bird, Crimson. He’d had Skyloft.

And I still was too slow.

Sky couldn’t force that thought back down as his gaze shifted over the other heroes. Wild and Hyrule led the group side by side, talking merrily about the places they’d explored. Neither boy looked like he’d broken a sweat.

Warriors and Twilight weren’t far behind, marching in long steady strides with Legend right beside them. Time stretched his arms and wiped his forehead once, but he never faltered. Four hung back to walk alongside the older knight, but certainly not for lack of energy—his small stature simply wasn’t made for striding.

Then that left Wind, who was… all over the place. His boyish excitement still hadn’t run out, it seemed, and he was bouncing through their ranks, asking as many questions as he could get away with. Sky had trouble keeping up with most of the answers. His chest was acting up again, and with each minute, he could see Time’s back getting farther and farther away.

Didn’t Wind live on a water-bound island? Wasn’t he tired, too? Why was Sky always bringing up the rear?

He wheezed involuntarily, drawing a glance from Time.

Panic struck Sky’s heart like a knife. No! Can’t let them see. Can’t be slow! Set an example…

Sky smiled brightly at him, fighting down the urge to cough.

Time stared at him a moment longer. He looked ready to say something, but whatever it was going to be was lost as Four pulled Time back into their prior conversation. Time nodded and turned away from Sky, resuming his discussion with the smith.

Sky let their words wash over him, desperate to ignore the dizzy ache settling through his body and his heart pounding in his ears.

Too slow…

>>><<< 

Their break for lunch went by far faster than Sky had hoped. The heroes plopped themselves down under the shade of some stray trees, happy to snack on some of Wild’s mushroom and potato skewers. They stretched their aching limbs, resting just long enough to regain their energy and wipe off their sweat.

Sky leaned his back against one of the trees, limbs pulsing and shaking. By now he could feel the familiar, nasty slickness of spit trailing down his throat, threatening to creep into his weak lungs. He downed some water, trying to subtly swallow the gunk away. He wasn’t about to start a coughing fit in front of the others; that wouldn’t do here, not when he was supposed to be an example for them. Time may have been made their leader unofficially, but Sky was still the Chosen Hero. The first of them all. He couldn’t let them down.

Too slow… Too slow…

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until Time shook his shoulder.

Sky jolted, sending spit down the wrong part of his throat. He hacked on instinct. The ugly sound made him go cold with embarrassment, and he forced himself to be more subtle.

Time stared at him in concern, Hyrule frowning over his shoulder along with the others.

Warriors studied him like a bug under a magnifying glass. “Are you all right?”

Sky waved him away and stood quickly, trying to smile it off. “H-ha. Sorry. Spit went the wrong way. I… wasn’t out for very long, was I?”

“Only a few minutes...” said Time slowly, his gaze never leaving Sky.

“And boy, what a sleep,” Legend added. “You were still sitting up and everything. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone conk out so fast; were you going for a record or something?”

“Legend,” Twilight frowned.

“What? I’m genuinely curious.”

Despite his dizzy head, Sky found a true smile on his lips. That’s just like something Groose would say. “Oh, it’s just another one of my many skills, Veteran. I hope you’re not too jealous.”

Legend’s eyebrows rose, obviously not expecting that comeback. He chuckled to himself and shook his head. “Jealous? Of you? Fat chance, Bird Man.”

Sky grinned, but could still feel several eyes on his back as they packed up lunch. He focused on keeping in his cough to distract himself.

And of course, a sip of stamina potion when no one was looking didn’t hurt, either.

Once they set out again, the air only got hotter. As the day slumped past, many of the men decided to put away their armor, preferring comfort over defense. The only monsters they’d come across so far were basic chu-chus and other tiny enemies, nothing to warrant the mighty regalia of a knight’s outfit. Blasted by heat, most of the others simply slipped into a quiet daze as they let their feet carry them at a steady pace.

The key word there being “most.”

Sky kept falling behind.

His body felt numb and fuzzy with fatigue. His hands and feet were swelling and throbbing as his lungs struggled to keep time with his heart. He was certain his boots had gotten smaller.

Memories of his quest filtered through his mind, unbidden.

You were too slow, hero. Too slow! Too slow to save—

A grunt drew his attention. Wind, who’d been so bubbly that morning, was now strangely quiet. He’d fallen back to the end of the line with Sky, eyebrows notched in a sour grimace. His glazed eyes stared holes into the path before him as he gingerly moved his feet… feet that no doubt were causing him as much pain as Sky’s.

Ah. So I was right about him earlier, Sky thought. Poor little fledgling…

He quietly cleared the phlegm out of his raw throat, breaking the silence between them.

“So, what’s it like traveling an entire ocean?”

 Wind's ears perked up. "Huh?"

"I have... well, maybe not experience, but I've gone sailing on the Surface with a friend of mine before. He's a captain, actually."

 Sky's question worked beautifully. Wind's exhaustion was quickly swept to the side in favor of a big, dimpled grin. "No way."

Sky nodded. "Yeah. A mechanical captain from an age long past. It's sort of hard to explain, but there are these stones that act as windows to the past, and they can turn one of the deserts in my era into what it used to be: an ocean. It's beautiful. But to be completely surrounded by water for days on end... isn't that scary?"

 Wind shook his head firmly. "No! Well, maybe a little at first, but that was because of my quest. But on a ship with a crew, it's like journeying with a big family. Every day something new could happen, and there's always something to do on the boat. I like shooting the canons at monsters, personally. "

Sky found himself grinning. "Canon's have no right to be that entertaining."

"As long as you're not the one being shot out of one,” Wind agreed. “I got lucky with my pirate’s initiation. They only shot me from a giant catapult. But from the stories I’ve heard on the sea? Some guys across the ocean have some insane pastimes, heh.”

“Wait, wait, a giant… what did you call it?”

“A catapult? You know,” Wind cupped his hand and swung his arm forward forcefully. “Big wooden thing that you wind back and release, throws whatever you put in the barrel? Like a cannon but with less gunpowder.”

Sky blinked in amazement. That almost sounded like… No. It couldn’t be. “You’re not talking about—I can’t believe I’m saying this—the Groosenator, are you?”

Wind pulled an odd, pinched expression, somewhere between deep thought and utter confusion. “What? Wait lemme think, why is that… Oh! Yeah, actually I think my Grandma had an old school book that said something about a lot of early inventions all having this one guy’s name tacked onto them? Hey, and that goosen-something you mentioned…”

“Groosenator.”

“Bless you. But yeah! I think that was the earliest catapult or something?” Wind gasped as a thought hit him. “WAIT! Do you know the guy who made it?!?”

Sky smiled. “Yeah. He used to bully me in school but we’re pretty great buddies now. He’s actually been a big help with building our Surface settlement… when he’s not off getting distracted by his ‘latest stroke of genius’ and shooting me out of the ‘Groosenator Mark II like a test dummy.” Sky rubbed his neck. “Yikes.”

Wind's eyes blew wide. “So you’ve been shot out a catapult, too?!?”

 Sky bit his lip to keep his laugh contained. "Yeah, several times actually. And I’ve shot a canon AND been shot out of one. I have… many types of friends."

Wind blew out a puff of air. "That's amazing. Who knew we had so much in common! Islands, catapults, friends that sail..."

"...A hero's spirit," Sky added, putting a numb hand on Wind's back.

"And you're Tetra's ancestor... Ha! She'd probably flip if I told her. You two seriously need to meet."

Pride swelled in Sky's chest, overtaking his exhaustion for a moment. "You said she was the captain?"

"The best on the ocean," said Wind. He closed his eyes fondly. "She's brave and quick, and she'll do anything for the men that fight at her side. She sort of inherited the crew when her mom died, so they all look out for her even though she's in charge. They’re basically her family. I'm just the newcomer."

"Just the newcomer?" Sky pressed. "The way you talk about her and the crew, you seem a bit more than just that." 

"Yeah... well..." Wind scratched his head. He blushed when the older hero nudged his shoulder. "Hey, don't make this mushier than it needs to be, Sky."

"Then tell me more about her," the Skyloftian pressed. "What should I know if I'm going meet her?"

"...Well… we both like to spar."

"Hey, that sounds fun!" Sky smiled, thinking about all the sparring he'd done with his classmates in Skyloft. The thought of crossing swords with his great-something granddaughter sent warm sparks swirling through his chest. "I really hope I get to see her, and all the Zeldas, too," he sighed. "I just hope..."

Wind tilted his head. "What?"

It was Sky's turn to blush. "I just hope we'll get along, you know? That she doesn't think meeting her ancient ancestor will be weird."

"Weird? No way! She may be tough on the outside, but she's really great once you get to know her. She'll love you, Sky."

"If you say so."

Wind paused to consider something. Slowly, his face lit up with a big, twinkling grin. "Hey! Now that I think about it, you two actually balance each other out really well."

"We do?"

"Yep!" Wind winked. "You make the perfect team. Your all sweet and she's super sour!”

 Sky couldn’t help it. He let out a deep, sharp laugh, surprised by Wind’s blunt honesty.

This proved to be a horrible mistake.

His laughter erupted into a coughing fit, seizing his diaphragm and refusing to let go. All at once, Sky’s held-back phlegm was finally free. It surged from his ragged airways in a full force assault, drowning him where he stood. His chest spasmed, but no air came in. His head swam. There was thunder in his ears and a fire in his lungs, pounding, burning, suffocating him with overloaded senses. Air was water. Up was down. All at once the world was spinning, and the ground came swirling up to meet him.

Strong hands grabbed him before he could break his nose, but he was sure he’d bruised his knee on a rock. His throat tightened on him, and he wheezed. He couldn't swallow. Everything was too hot, too humid. He couldn't breathe.

Too slow too slow too slow!

Something smelling of a garden was shoved beneath his nose. It was clear. Sweet. Cold.

Skyloft.

Sky opened his mouth, inhaling the mint leaf’s fumes greedily as the powerful scent forced space back into his airways. He coughed up a disgusting amount of phlegm. He could taste salt running down his chin and nose, tears escaping his eyes with his body’s effort to clear his system. His heart thudded against his chest, his stamina long since spent. Limply, he let himself sink back into the arms of whoever had caught him.

A faint smell of pumpkins tickled his nose. He coughed weakly, too exhausted to even clear his lungs correctly. Someone ran a cool cloth over his face to clean it.

“Sky?!? Sky?” Wind’s jarring voice sounded from somewhere nearby. “Captain, what was that?!? What happened? We were just talking, and—!”

“Some kind of respiratory illness, perhaps” Warriors murmured right in front of him, wiping the water-soaked cloth across Sky’s cheek. “Bring the crushed mint a bit closer to his face, Champion. Twilight, sit him up straighter—don’t hold him so tight—there. Let him breathe.”

Numbly, the Skyloftian registered Wild’s hand on his rattling chest, moving the crumpled sprig of mint toward his mouth and nose.

“Sky,” Hyrule whined, sounding heartbroken. “Ugh, I knew there was something wrong earlier.”

Time consoled the traveler with a small pat to the shoulder. Sky then heard the path shift as the older knight knelt before him.

“A group is only as fast as its slowest member, Sky, and none of us have a problem slowing down. We are not made of clockwork, and it’s hot. If you ever feel ill, you need to tell us. You know that.”

“I know,” he rasped, chest catching fire all over again. Pain and embarrassment swirled within his eyes. He couldn’t move his body. “M’sorry…”

Too late. Too slow. Not enough.

Sky clenched his fist over the mint.

I’m so sorry.

For more than you know.

“All right, that’s enough of that,” Warriors cut in. “Time, I’m making an executive decision. We’re resting. Village be darned, we’ll find it tomorrow.” He eyed Wind, who was swaying on his feet, looking miserable. “All of us are resting,” he clarified.

Sky felt himself being lifted up and placed against another tree, all the while drifting in and out of consciousness in his exhaustion. Wild’s mint sprig was still tucked into the neck of his sailcloth, mixing its fresh scent with the lingering traces of Zelda’s perfume. Sky closed his eyes and breathed.  

“Oh, Sleepyhead…” she would have whispered to him, teasing his hair with her soft fingers. He could practically feel her curled up next to him.

Someone shifted by his side, and Sky jolted out of his half-dream.

Oh. Right.

Wind was leaning against Sky, arms crossed over his knees and his chin tucked behind them. He looked utterly spent, and there was little doubt that Sky looked even worse.

 "Sky."

The Chosen Hero looked up to see that the camp had already been set. The sun hung low in a late afternoon haze, its long shadows and golden glow joining with that of the firelight. How long had he been resting?

"Sky?"

His eyes snapped to the rest of the heroes. Time and Warriors, in particular, were staring at him with intense study and concern. The two of them looked scarily similar.

He'd seen that look on Gaepora a few times, too.

"Uh... yes?" Sky asked innocently. He did not want to have this conversation again.

"Kindly explain what just happened," said Time. It wasn’t a request. 

Sky sighed. He pulled a bottle out of his pack, the green liquid inside glowing faintly. He downed the rest of his stamina potion in one gulp, and the effect was immediate.  The cool, minty, earthy taste of the potion soothed his ragged throat, settling in his stomach like a refreshing drink of spring water. A buzzing sensation spread across his body, reaching even the tips of his fingers and ears. It didn't take much longer for it to chase his exhaustion away.

With the weight on his chest gone, Sky took a massive breath, gulping down clear air like a fish would gulp water. He sighed in relief. 

Meanwhile, Time and Warriors were still waiting for an answer. 

I guess there's no escaping it now...

"This is normal, for me," Sky began. He held up a hand before anyone could butt in. "My people… our bodies aren't built for this kind of air. We've lived in the clouds for countless generations, where the air is thinner. Found out pretty fast that anyone who spends time on the Surface has to adjust. Even then... some of us have a harder time than others."

"And you didn't think to tell us this before our massive walk through the hot sun that was obviously bad for your health?" Legend frowned.

"I-I..." Sky's heart began to pound. He had no good excuse and he knew it, but he had to give them something. "I'll get used to it."

"Sky—"

"Please," Sky interrupted Twilight. "I've done it before. I've already been living between Skyloft and my Surface for a few years now. The atmosphere here is just... thicker than I'm used to. My body will adjust. That's my burden and I'm at peace with that. But you all shouldn't need to slow down because of me. We have a quest to learn about and supplies to gather. If we're to succeed, little things like this are irrelevant—"

"Stop that."

It was Warriors who'd interrupted him. The captain’s ice blue eyes pierced through him, and Sky couldn’t look away.

"I'm not a fan of leaving people behind, Sky, and if you think you're an exception to that rule, then you’re mistaken, ‘Chosen Hero’ or not," he said. "Rest is not irrelevant. It makes you stronger, more alert and ready for the next battle. So, from now on, wherever we go, we go together, and if anyone needs rest, we will happily sit our butts down until everyone is fine to move again. Ask any one of us and he'll tell you the same. Mask especially."

Time hummed. “You never did let me forget that lesson back in the day, did you?”

“And I’ll continue to do so until something on Farore’s green earth finally succeeds in ending me. That goes for all of you, here me?” Warriors said sternly.

All around him, every other hero was nodding along.

"No hero left behind."

"You won't help anyone by running yourself into the ground."

"Let us look after you."

"No shame in that."

"We've all been there."

Sky clenched his fists, taken aback by the wave of caring. He didn't deserve it, he knew he really was slowing them down, but... it was very kind of them all to offer their support.

And the captain, Warriors, he was a good man. A kind leader, like Pipit or Eagus. Listening to his advice was the least Sky could do to show his respect for his character. And if it meant finally taking a break, well. Who was he to complain? 

Sky hummed his thanks to the captain, letting his shoulders droop. He really needed to brew more stamina potion if his was already wearing off. Or was he just that tired? That probably wasn't a good sign.

"Can we get you anything, Sky?"

"Hmm?" Sky blinked, looking up at Wild. "Oh. No..."

Wild gave him a stare sharper than a Loftwing's.

"...Maybe some food?"

"Done."

"Can't argue with the cook, Sky," mumbled Wind. "Ev'body knows that."

Sky studied the young sailor. He was still curled up next to Sky, but something about the way he shifted his ankles made Sky frown.

His feet, Sky remembered. He must have callouses from this much walking. I would know. Ouch. He shifted his own boots.

But why not tell anyone he was hurt? Unless...

Unless he's just like me.

Maybe the other heroes did understand his burden. 

Sky tried not to lament the implications of that as he rifled through his pack for another potion. He could bear some aches, but the thought of his successors hurt in any way was greatly upsetting to him.

Wordlessly, he held out the red potion to Wind.

Sky could practically see the cage slamming shut around the boy.

"What’s that for?" asked the sailor under his breath.

"I would hope you know what a potion is."

Wind rolled his eyes. "Well, duh! But why are you giving it to me?"

Sky subtly glanced at the sailor's boots. "I've found that it helps us islanders cope with prolonged, non-relaxing strolls along the Surface."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

The Skyloftian raised an eyebrow. When he was sure none of the others were looking, he reached down and flicked one of Wind’s toes.

The sailor yelped. He glared at Sky through tear-speckled eyes, only to come face-to-face with the potion.

"Barnacle blisters, Sky, OK!" he hissed. "So I'm a little sore, sue me. I'll be fine."

"Your feet need this."

"No they don't. I've toughed out way worse before, and I'm not letting you waste a potion on my stupid feet. I can handle it just like the rest of you."

Sky stared at him for a moment longer, then sighed. He hated to use this card, but he knew it was exactly what Zelda would have done for him... what she continued to do for him. Her wisdom was not to be taken lightly.

So he shrugged, "Fine. Then I'm not telling Wild how to brew more stamina potion for me."

"What?" Wind shot up. "Sky, you can't do that—"

"Why? I've been through worse. And I can be just as stubborn as you. Why waste someone else's time, anyway?" Sky looked down. His regret was real as he mumbled, "I've already slowed you down enough today."

Wind growled. "So? It's never a waste of time when you care about someone! Everyone would be MORE than willing to help you if you would just let—" Wind froze as those words finally registered in his head.

Sky held out the potion again, a bittersweet smile appearing on his face. "We really are a lot alike, you and I."

Wind stared at him for nearly a minute before swiping the red potion from Sky's hand. "I'd hate you if I didn't like you so much," he mumbled, taking a sip.

Sky wheezed with laughter and pulled him close. 

"And you better tell Wild about the stamina potion," Wind huffed, passing back the bottle. "If you don't, I'll know, and I'll personally help him shove it down your throat."

"It's a promise," Sky chuckled. He took a sip of the red potion for his own aching feet, and before he knew it, he was nodding off with his arm around the sailor.

Wild’s gentle voice woke Sky up a moment later. Wind cheered as the champion passed them two steaming bowls of leftover pumpkin soup, and by the smell of it, Wild had even added some extra herbs and vegetables. 

"For the healing properties," the champion explained.

A freshly brewed stamina potion materialized beside Sky's pack, and Wild walked away, smiling. 

He already knew how to brew it, Sky realized, warmth spreading through his chest at the kind gesture. "Thank you," he whispered after him.

Wind sighed in delight. "I love it when Wild cooks."

Sky grinned, his gratitude for the heroes of the future warming in his heart.

"Me too, Wind. Me too."

>>><<<

Masterlist | First | Chapter 3 | Chapter 5

Author's Note: Get cared for, Sky!!! For such a sleepy guy he's got a huge fixation on efficiency and timeliness. Good qualities, but like anything else, they can be taken to an extreme. I looooved writing Wind, especially alongside Sky! They're one of my favorite duos, and quite similar! Both are islanders, start their quests for someone they love, "sail" across a large expanse, and are very expressive, positive, & caring people. And both of them are mischievous. Sky's responsible when he has to be but let's never forget that he broke someone's entire chandelier while trying to grab a shiny Piece of Heart. And Wind legally owns his own private oasis. >u<

Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!

"No offense, but docks and sailors really aren’t all that common in most of the adventures I’ve heard tales of,” added the smithy. “’Sailor’ is still rather unique to me.”

“Ugh, fine,” groaned the sailor. “But what about this? ‘Rancher’. How many of you know a rancher or farmer or someone like that? C’mon! Show of hands!”

Reluctantly, most of the other Links raised their hands.

“Yeah,” murmured the champion, catching on. “And by that logic, ‘Traveler’ and ‘Veteran’ are even worse…”

“Exactly! Thank you!” The sailor clapped his hands. “They’re not consistent names, either. Some are professions, some are more personal—heck, I’m not even sure what naming scheme you four were using!” he gestured to the Chosen Hero, champion, traveler, and vet.

The veteran hero huffed. “It was spur of the moment.”

“But… I was just getting used to being called ‘Traveler,’” the humble hero murmured.

The champion rested a comforting hand on his back. “Nobody said we can’t still use what we’re using now, but he’s right. We could benefit from something different. Shorter. Unique. But it still needs to tie everyone together.”

“Wait, you’re renaming me again? I thought you said I was stuck with ‘Warriors,’” the knight raised a brow at the sailor.

The vet smirked. “Warrior-s? As in plural? What kind of dumb name is that?”

“Hey!” Warriors scoffed, looking quite affronted. “If you want to make fun, blame Mask—er, Time. He came up with it.”

“When I was a child,” Time countered.

“Even so, you butchered my hero title and then had the audacity to make the nickname stick,” Warriors elbowed him. “You’re exceedingly lucky I didn’t know you were the Hero of Time before ‘Mask’ stuck, you gremlin. I probably would have called you ‘Timmy’ in spite.”

“I would have punched you if you did.”

Warriors laughed. “Fair.” 

“Wait… when you were a… what…?” the veteran mumbled, utter confusion overtaking him and his three companions.

“Time travel,” Warriors and Time said, as if that explained anything. Evidently, they thought it did, and went right back to bickering.

The Chosen Hero shook his head, feeling his brain getting fuzzy. Time travel. Another thing to add to the very small list of things I hate.

“Hold on, Captain, what was your hero title?” interrupted the rancher.

He sighed. “My princess appointed me the title: Link, Warrior of Hyrule. This one,” he shoved Time’s shoulder, “shortened it and made it all cutesy. On purpose.”

Time only shrugged, his grin betraying how utterly un-sorry he was.

The sailor flew off his seat. “That’s it!!!”

“Huh? What’s what?” Warriors jumped.

“Hero titles!!! We can use those for names!”

The champion’s eyes lit up. “Hey… hey! That’s perfect! And that way, you two don’t have to change your nicknames! You can keep being Time and Warriors if you want.”

“Hero titles, hmm?” asked Time. “And what would yours be, young sailor?”

The slow, methodical grin that crept up the boy’s face in response was enough to set everyone on edge. He didn’t utter a word. Squinting impishly at the others, he reached into one of his pouches and pulled out a long, elegant white baton, raising it with the upmost care above his head.

The veteran was not impressed. “So… what? You’re the Hero of the Stick?”

A quick wink was all the warning they received before what happened next.

The sailor flicked the baton three ways in quick succession: Up, Left, and Right. As soon as the last direction had been given, a symphony of winds flew through the trees around their camp, whistling and harmonizing like a choir of heavenly voices. The melody danced through the heroes’ hair and up their sleeves, and for a moment, the Chosen Hero felt like he was flying through the clouds of his homeland once more. He breathed in the clean, cool air without obstruction, and his heart soared.

“Ok, ok! Hero of the Wind, we get it!” laughed Warriors, desperately trying to save his hair.

The sailor lowered his hands, settling the airy melody into quiet whispers. He put away the baton, bowed, then plopped back down onto the log he’d been sitting on.

“Your turn, Champion!” he grinned.

The long-haired hero looked even wilder than usual as he shook his windswept bangs out of his eyes. “Hahaha, well, as impressive as that was, I think I’ll spare everyone the theatrics. I’m called the Hero of the Wild back home.”

“So, Wind and Wild, huh?” asked the rancher, a smile forming on his face. He studied the boys before him with a hand to his chin before nodding. “That fits.”

“What about you, farm boy?” prodded Warriors. “You’re the last of our motley trio to share his title, so how about it?”

The smile wavered on the rancher’s face, and his eyes trailed to the last bits of sunlight poking through the trees. He fingered his black cape subtly, but the Chosen Hero noticed. A wave of empathy washed over him, for he often did the exact same with his sailcloth when he felt uneasy… or when he missed Zelda.

“Ah… the Hero of… Twilight. I suppose,” murmured the rancher.

Wind didn’t pick up on his faraway gaze. “Whoa… that sounds cool!”

“And oddly timely,” Warriors folded his arms, trying to follow Twilight’s eyes through the dusk-laden trees. “I should like to hear the story behind that name, someday.”

Twilight’s grip tightened.

Time cleared his throat, drawing the attention away from the rancher. “Smithy, you mentioned your title to me before, but I’m afraid I can’t quite remember it. Could you repeat it?”

The smith cocked an eyebrow, but soon shrugged away his suspicion. “Eh, Hero of the Four Swords. Do with that what you will, you two. I’m afraid I haven’t made your task any easier.”

Wind and Wild hummed, picking at their lips and they tried to work with this new information.

“We’re not calling him Swords,” Wild said finally.

Wind nodded. “No, definitely not. So… Four?”

“Four… Four…” Wild tested the sound out.

The smithy began to squirm. “Wait, wait a moment, that’s a number! You can’t just—”

Wind grinned. “Nope! Too late! I like it. Next!”

“Wha-? Hold on!”

“Now you know how I feel,” Warriors smirked.

Across the circle, the traveler snapped his fingers. He looked at the veteran excitedly. “I know what you could be!”

“And why does that frighten me?” the vet scooted away.

“Legend!” the traveler happily ignored him. “Because you’re the Hero of Legend! At least you are in my time, anyway. How cool does that sound?”

“No.”

“Wha—It is! It’s really cool, like you! C’mon, isn’t it at least a little better than ‘Vet’?”

The veteran’s brow furrowed as he tried to fend off the traveler’s big, pleading hazel eyes.

It was only a few seconds until he gave in.

“UGH. Ok. Fine, I’ll be ‘Legend’ or whatever. But you’re next,” he poked the traveler in the chest.

The traveler suddenly paled. “I… o-oh. Um, you all could just… keep calling me Traveler.”

Legend gasped. “You little hypocrite! I’m not changing my nickname until you tell us your title!”

The traveler started fidgeting with his arm braces. “W-well! It’s really nothing special or fancy… nothing like all of yours…”

Four crossed his arms. “Traveler. I’ve been stuck with a literal number. Go on and tell us.”

“Well… it’s…” he murmured something unintelligible.

“Come again?” Legend flicked an ear.

“I’m…”

Time tried encouraging him, “Speak up, lad.”

“I’m called the Hero of Hyrule!?” he said a little louder than necessary, wincing and ducking his head.

“…Ah,” Warriors hummed. “I see. Not a lot to work with there.”

The traveler stuck his hands in his armpits. “Ugh… I know! But it’s fine, though. I told you I can just be Traveler… if that’s easier… I don’t know…”

“Rambling,” Legend poked him again.

“Hey… we’ll figure something out, don’t worry,” the Hero of the Sky spoke up, sending the traveler a soft, if a bit confused, smile.

The traveler shrugged, his returned smile not quite meeting his eyes.

“Ok. It’s ok. We can work with this, hmm…” Wind bounced his knee. “Well, we can’t call you Hero, that could mean all of us…”

Wild brightened all of a sudden, turning to grin in the traveler’s face. “Hyrule!”

The traveler blinked. “What about it?”

“Why not just call you Hyrule?”

The traveler cocked an eyebrow. “…Hyrule.”

Four raised his hand. “Still a number over here.”

Wild waved him off. “Sure! Why not? You’ve been really down to earth since we met, Traveler, and you said yourself you’ve been all over it. I think it fits!”

“Hmm…,” the traveler looked deep in thought, slowly bobbing his head as the name began to stick. “Maybe…”

The Chosen Hero found himself stuck in his own head for entirely different reasons. He raised a hand tentatively, still trying to piece the last bits of their conversation together.

“Um… sorry, but what’s ‘Hyrule’?” he asked.

The heroes turned to him in varying degrees of confusion and surprise.

Legend blinked. “Uh, the region? Hyrule?”

“Oh… Do you think it’s nearby, then? Maybe we could find some supplies there. What does it look like?”

Everyone stared blankly at the Skyloftian, making his skin prickle again. He shrank into his sailcloth and gripped its edges. “…Was that a foolish question?”

Time dragged a hand across his chin. “Dear goddesses, you really are the first…” he whispered, and gently explained, “No, no, it’s not foolish. It’s just… Hyrule is… home. It is a sprawling kingdom, the entire mainland, with a few exceptions on its outskirts. We’re likely sitting in it right now.”

The Skyloftian’s eyes went wide. Heart pumping a bit faster, he took in the golden forest around him with new respect. “You mean,” he breathed, “Hyrule is… the name of the Surface?”

“The ’Surface’…?” Hyrule’s brow creased.

Wind shot up again. “UGH ! A million questions! I wanna ask a million questions so bad right now, so answer mine first please? Are we calling you Chosen or what?”

The Skyloftian’s brain went blank as he processed everything at once. Chosen? Question? Oh! Right, nicknames. I guess that could work, but it doesn’t really feel right…

The glint of the Master Sword resting behind him gave him an idea.

“Well,” he steadied his breath, “Fi—my sword—called me the Hero of the Sky once. So did the smithy earlier. So I guess that makes me…”

“Sky,” Wild smiled. “I like that.”

“Yeah, and it’s a real name,” Four pointed out.

Twilight tilted his head. “Does your nickname really bother you that much, Smithy?”

“Hmm? Ah. No,” he waved. “Just being petty. ‘Sky’s’ a good name, it fits him!”

Before Twilight could press further, Wind began hopping in place. He was practically bursting at the seams.

“Yeah! It’s great!” the boy bounded up to Sky, promptly plopping himself down in the grass by his feet. “Now can you please explain what you’re talking about because I have no idea what you mean and it’s killing me please tell me everything—!"

“Whoa! Hey!” Warriors interrupted. “Slow down, soldier! We’re all curious, but can’t you see you’re stressing the man out?”

Poor Sky pried his fingers from his sailcloth, trying and failing to make his eyebrows come back down to their normal level.

“No! No, it’s ok,” he calmed himself. “He’s just eager to learn. I don’t blame him.”

“You might not, but I haven’t let him off the hook just yet.” Twilight strode over to Wind, ruffling the boy’s hair like he’d known him for years. “Respect your elders, boy!”

“Ugh! Hey, get off—!”

The heroes laughed as Twilight picked up the struggling boy with one arm and slung him over his fur-covered shoulder.

“You know, names aside, I think I know what we really need right now,” said Wild. “First, lemme pull up my recipes…”

Swiftly, he pulled an odd, book-sized tablet off a strap on his hip. On one side, a familiar etching of a Sheikah eye flickered to life with blue magic. Wild’s fingers danced across the other surface, and in a flash of light, what looked to be a menu of all sorts of meals appeared. In the same moment, his other hand reached into his pouch, a cooking pot and a pile of neatly chopped wood materializing in front of him once he’d fished them out.

“How does dinner sound to everyone?” the champion smiled.

“Whoa!” Wind squirmed as he tried to see past Twilight’s cape. “What is that thing? Twilight, lemme down! I wanna see!”

“Kinda weird shape for a magic mirror,” Legend frowned, curiosity shining in his eyes.

 “It looks like Timeshift tech…” Sky whispered.

“It’s a Sheikah Slate,” answered Wild, waving the device in the air. “Kinda ground-breaking technology in my time. It can do all sorts of things!”

Wind skidded over to his side, having escaped the clutches of Twilight. Just as he did so, Wild flipped up the slate, tapping it with a flourish as a small clicking noise rattled inside it.

“See?” he said, flipping the slate around. There, much to everyone’s surprise, was a tiny painting of Wind. It was so lifelike and clear that it could have been a scene from a memory, etched forever on the surface of this strange little magic box.

Wind gasped, grasping one edge of the tablet. He stared at the image, then at Wild, in growing excitement. “It’s a pictobox!!!”

“Better,” Wild grinned, pulling some steel and flint out for the fire. “I can fight with it, too.”

“HUH?!?"

Time laughed. “Sheikah. Of course they would add that feature. What does it do? Not spew out a volley of swords, I hope.”

Wild stalled a bit as the legendary hero spoke to him. “O-oh! Uh. Not exactly, but it can be pretty destructive. As for the specifics…” his face winked into something more mischievous, “you’ll have to see it in action to really appreciate it.”

Time grinned. “Fair enough.”

“Ok, ok, but you can take pictures!” Wind cut in. “Do you have more saved? Can I look at them? Please? Or do they need to be developed first?”

The champion smiled, but Sky could see his eyes darting reluctantly between his slate and the very eager boy. Caution was written all over his face, but something in Wind’s big, pleading eyes must have swayed him, for he was soon sighing and handing the item over.

“Here. You can look. Just swipe left and be careful while I get dinner started,” Wild said, relaxing a bit as Wind cradled the slate like a newborn remlit. Satisfied that Wind could be trusted, he turned to the others and waved at the pot. “Anyone have any requests?”

"Can you make pumpkin soup?"

Sky, Twilight, and Time jumped, having all spoken at once. They looked at each other in surprise.

Wild laughed and started pouring a large flask of water into the cooking pot. "Sounds like we have a consensus, then. Any objections?"

"None from me," Warriors chuckled, and Legend seconded. Hyrule and Four politely shook their heads.

“I love soup—wait is that a Rito?” gasped Wind, still flipping through the slate.

Twilight walked up behind Wild, glancing at his recipes and tentatively scratching his head. “I know you just pulled up several of your own, but I also have a good home recipe on me, if you’d like it.”

“Oh! Sure,” Wild struck the steel and flint together. “One big pot of Twilight’s pumpkin soup, coming up!”

As Twilight sat himself next to the champion, listing ingredients over his shoulder, the attention on Sky and the Surface was briefly forgotten by the heroes and their rumbling stomachs. The general conversation shifted instead to the wonders of the Sheikah and the mysteries of the strange invention known as “photography.” Wind proudly displayed his “pictobox,” claiming it captured reality to nearly the same degree as Wild’s slate, though it looked completely different, and Wind claimed it worked completely without magic.

Sky shook his head, partially glad he didn’t have to answer any of the others’ questions about his era right now. His brain was too busy trying to wrap itself around other concepts. How do you capture time without magic? And so vividly? And how do you fight with a tiny slate? And come to think of it, where did the name Hyrule come from, anyway? When he and Zelda finally named the Surface back in their own time, would they only call it “Hyrule” because Sky had heard that here? Which would mean he would go on to pass down a name that his current self had heard passed down from his future self and where did it begin and nothing made sense anymore and time travel was the worst and—

A warm bowl was placed into his hands.

“Hey, are you ok?” Wild asked, tilting his head like a curious remlit.

Sky blinked himself back to the present. “Oh… yeah,” he took the wooden spoon from Wild’s hand and gave a shaky sigh. “Just… time travel.”

Wild gave him a sympathetic pat. “Yeah. Gets ya every time, huh?”

“Was that meant to be a pun, or…?”

Wild laughed, gently laying a handkerchief on the Chosen Hero’s knee and walking back to the pot. He handed a bowl to Twilight before filling another bowl for someone else.

“Hey, that was actually a really great recipe you gave me,” the champion thanked the rancher. “Sorry I didn’t have any dairy to add. I really need to stock up next time we hit a village.”

“Nah, nah! It’s really all right,” he waved him off. “I can’t even take credit for the recipe.  Frankly, whatever vegetables you combined with mine well made up for it, from smell alone. No tellin’ what disaster I’d make if I tried experimenting like that. Probably wouldn’t feed it to the dogs."

“Remind me never to eat your cooking, then, as a favor to my health,” Legend snorted as he accepted the bowl Wild gave him. He dug in immediately, and his sour face flickered—for just a second—into something far softer. “…Huh.”

“And that right there is the mark of a good soup,” Time said, pointing his spoon at Legend.

“Oh, back off, Old Man,” Legend huffed, shoving another heaping spoonful into his mouth.

Meanwhile, Hyrule was scrutinizing his bowl as if there was a bee hidden inside it. Legend nudged him, mouthing something that looked suspiciously like, “It won’t kill you, Traveler,” before Hyrule took a tiny, tentative sip. Relief washed over him instantly, and his face turned rosy with a smile.

Sky, on the other hand, frowned as he looked around the camp. Nearly all of his companions had already jumped to enjoy their soup. Was this what people in the future did, or just a different culture? Maybe it was only because they were eating in the woods, but even still, weren't any of them going to say a group blessing over the meal? Sky briefly wondered if he should just mumble something small to himself before eating, as he’d seen some of the others do.

Just as that thought began to dishearten him, Twilight and Wild met his eyes. They smiled, and Sky sighed gratefully. At least there was a little taste of his homeland’s traditions still left in the future. Some unspoken agreement passed between the three of them, and as one, the young men dipped their heads in a quiet prayer of thanks.

Wind choked on his soup. “Oops!”

He then proceeded to mutter the fastest blessing Sky had ever heard.

The champion, rancher, and Sky fell into quiet laughter the moment they finished their prayer.

“Forgot something, Sailor?” Wild grinned.

“Ugh! Can you blame me? It smelled so amazing! I was just… sampling it.”

Twilight fought to keep his soup inside his mouth as he laughed.

Sky tried a sip, and instantly his body felt warm and cozy. The earthy vegetables and strong, rich pumpkin reminded him of Skyloft’s crops, and after a long, wild first day on a quest, it was the perfect way to satiate his hunger.

Sky hummed in delight. “Wow, Wild! This may be the best soup I’ve ever tasted!”

“No one makes soup better than my Grandma,” Wind corrected him, “…buuut this might be a pretty close second.”

“A grandmother?” Time asked. “You have family waiting for you back home?”

Wind’s face lit up like a sunrise. “Yeah! There’s me, Grandma, and my little sister, Aryll. They’re both super sweet! I don’t see them as much now because Tetra’s crew and I are busy charting seas most of the time, but we send a lot of letters. Hey! If we ever visit my era, I’ll introduce you!”

The warmth in Sky’s chest spread. “It’s wonderful that you’re so close with them.”

“Yeah, well,” Wind blushed, “family’s family. What about you guys?”

There was a noticeable pause in the group. Some looked away as if unsure how to answer. Others, like Time and Twilight, let their fond smiles grow.

“Let’s just say I have a warm home waiting,” the one-eyed hero said. Warriors brightened upon hearing it.

“Same here,” Twilight hummed. “Knights can have their castle towns, but the folks back in Ordon will always be home to me.”

“I hope you’re not implying that we knights have no life outside our work, Rancher,” Warriors smirked.

Twilight blinked. “Ah! No. Sorry. I didn’t mean to say… it’s just that the country’s—"

Time reached over to pat the rancher’s arm, freezing him in place. “He’s just joking, son.”

“Am I really, though?” Warriors leaned back on the stump he sat on.

“All right then, how is your life outside of work?” Time countered. “Two years since the war, hmm… I’m sure Zelda could tell us a thing or two about what you’ve been up to in that time. How is she, by the way?”

Warriors nearly fell off the stump. “Y-you have absolutely no right to ask that while looking so cheeky, Time!” he huffed, face heating up. “A-and yes. She’s fine. She’s the queen, now, actually.”

Time looked delighted by this news, and promptly asked Warriors to pass on his congratulations.

The rest of the camp looked like they’d just missed the last step in a staircase.

"Zelda?" Wind murmured.

Twilight looked just as bewildered. "Your queen's named Zelda, too?"

"Queen...?" asked poor Four, hundreds of questions shifting behind his eyes.

"Oh, duh!" Everyone jumped as Legend smacked his forehead. "Of course she is! We're idiots. That's a thing with the royal family, isn't it? Most of the girls are named Zelda?"

Hyrule chuckled. "Yeah. And it goes back a lot farther than I used to think. A Zelda I know told me that the tradition started way, way before her in ancient times, with the true first Zelda. Some even say she got her powers straight from a goddess, and those are the powers passed down to each generation."

"First Zelda, huh?" Warriors asked. "Hey Sky, do you know her?

Sky hadn’t really been listening. His brain was still stuck on the fact that there were queens and royalty in the future. As a child, he'd always loved the tales of the Era of the Goddess, where knights served kings in castles in times of peace and bounty, all before Skyloft had even been created. Could all those things really be real again? And why do so many have Zelda’s name…?

"Hey, featherhead!"

He only half-registered that Legend was talking to him. "Huh?"

"Captain asked you a question."

"O-oh! Sorry… what?"

"The first Zelda," Warriors pressed. "You know, Mother of the Royal Bloodline, her name and wisdom pass down through all its generations, etcetera and so forth? If you’re the first hero, is she from your time?"

It took a moment for that to sink in.

The royal family of Hyrule... mother of the bloodline… daughters of wisdom... first Zelda...

All the color drained from Sky’s face as the final puzzle piece clicked into place.

His Zelda was the start of this new royal family.

No. Forget the color draining. Sky’s face now flushed bright red, the cherry hues painting his cheeks and spreading warmth up to his ears.

But if she’s… then we… that means that I… Sky’s heart started fluttering in his chest like a wild, caged bird. Dear Hylia. Dear, sweet Hylia, have mercy.

"’Hoy, Sky? You in there?" Wind waved his hand by his face. "Do you know her or not?"

Utterly bewildered, Sky awkwardly stuttered out the reason for his blush.

"S-she's my fiancée."

Legend spat out his soup.

“WHAT?!?” Wind stumbled backwards.

“So it IS true!!!” Hyrule shouted, nearly knocking over his bowl.

“I-I… whah?” Warriors stammered. He and Wild had gone quite pale.

“The rumor!” Hyrule continued, not missing a beat. “The oldest rumor in the royal family: The first matriarch married her Chosen Hero and began the royal line with him! But the story was all word of mouth. Nobody had any proof, until… well, now! Haha. U-um, congrats, Sky?”

Legend, still freaking out, glared suspiciously at Hyrule. “Who made you expert on the royal family?”

The traveler flushed under the scrutiny. “H-hey, it’s just history! It’s like one giant story! Plus, I’ve… got some very knowledgeable teachers…”

“Oh, blessed be the three,” Four gasped. “That means that every princess we know, every Zelda… is related to Sky!”

“N-not just them,” Wild whispered. “Their mothers or fathers, too… anyone tied through blood is a direct descendant. M-meaning…”

 “Kings and queens,” Wind finished in a daze. “Oh my gosh. The kings and queens of Hyrule all came from… Oh-ho my gosh…!” He started to giggle.

“Q-queens…?” Warriors squeaked quietly, a faint blush appearing on his cheek.

Time’s shocked eye suddenly began to sparkle. A massive grin spread across his face, and he turned excitedly to speak to Warriors.

The captain smacked a hand over Time’s mouth. “One word, and I will hurt you.”

Time laughed and knocked his hand away.

Meanwhile, Sky’s mind was reeling. He drew in a sharp breath and stared at his fellow heroes. “W-wait, our daught—descendants—you’ve met them?!? What are they…?”

“What are they like?” Twilight asked.

Sky nodded dazedly.

The rancher smiled, glancing up into the starry sky. “Well…”

Every hero had something to say about his Zelda. A childhood friend, a wise queen, a brilliant scientist, an elegant fighter… the descriptions were as varied as they were glowing. Patient and kind. Faithful and gentle. Calculating and selfless. Strong-willed and fiery—Ah. Wind’s friend was a pirate, a Tetra, not a Zelda, but to Sky, that was just as beautiful a name. And had Hyrule mentioned two? Were they sisters? Sky would have to ask again later. Right now, his mind was too wonderfully busy, imagining the beautiful smiling faces of his own flesh and blood.

He ran a hand across his face in awe. They all sound so wonderful, so accomplished, so much like her. His Zelda. His heart leapt within his chest at the implications of that.

Sky swallowed thickly, unable to stop himself from envisioning his dear Zelda, singing a lullaby as she stroked her swollen belly, or cradling a small child within her arms. His child. Their baby. They were going to have a baby together.

At some point, Twilight had moved to sit next to him. He nudged Sky gently with his fur-covered shoulder.

“Hey,” the rancher murmured. “All good?”

“I… sorry,” Sky smiled, scrubbing at his face in a desperate attempt to get a hold of himself. “We just, Zelda and I… we’ve known each other for so long. She’s my everything, and since we’ve been courting, especially after I proposed…” he puffed out a breath, “We like to joke about it but we’ve actually been really excited about starting a family. We were never sure, though… with all the stories of things going wrong. But after everything you’ve said…”

A relieved laugh caught in his throat. Utterly spent by the day’s excitement, he dipped his head to his knees and wove his fingers into his feathery hair. “Sounds like we’ll be more than ok.”

Something shifted in Time’s gaze. Like a switch had been flipped, his mischievous grin grew softer, settling into a look of deep empathy… and longing.

“It’s been hard for you two, hasn’t it?”

Sky looked up, blinking at the question.

“The waiting? Wondering what comes next and how you’re going to get there?” Time clarified. His features softened in the moonlight. “I’ve been there myself, many times.”

The older man’s eye studied Sky closely. Not for the first time did the Skyloftian wonder how Time could look so peaceful with all those odd, faded scars.

“Knowing our future does not always stop the worry. But,” Time’s eye grew warm, and suddenly something deep within Sky was reminded of his father’s proud gaze, “sometimes a little hope can mean a lot. I’m very happy for you and your Zelda, Sky. Many blessings to you both.”

Sky felt his heart fill with warmth. The air between him and the Hero of Time seemed to clear all at once, and Sky no longer felt like he was speaking to a consequence of his own mistake. Time was just a kind, older man giving sage advice to a younger generation. And the other heroes… they laughed and joked like any other young men at the knight’s academy. Curse or no, they really were just people. And more than that… they were becoming friends.

The Chosen Hero met Time’s eye and smiled graciously. “Thank you.”

Wind’s body chose that exact moment to let out a mighty yawn.

The heroes laughed.

“I’d like to second Wind’s motion to go to bed,” Four raised his hand.

Wind stuck his tongue at him. The rude gesture didn’t quite land, being overshadowed by the boy’s comically bleary eyelids.

“I hope everyone brought bedrolls,” Warriors said, ruffling Wind’s hair as he walked past.

“Who needs bedrolls with all this grass?” said Wild, plopping down fully clothed in a cool patch of clover.

Hyrule suddenly looked like he was debating getting out his mat.

Legend looked disgusted. “If you get mites down there, I’m not helping you.”

Wild grinned and waved his limbs, making an angel-shaped dent in the grass.

Legend scoffed.

Sky wondered if all the Zeldas had to put up with these shenanigans too. He hummed as he thought of them again. His descendants. Daughters of wisdom and his own blood. Eight or nine kind, mature, accomplished princesses and queens of… Hyrule.

Sky blinked. Wait a minute. The Surface was Hyrule. The entire land around him was Hyrule. The land that he and Zelda had settled was all Hyrule. And if that was true, that meant… all his descendants, throughout countless years, would govern over the entire population, the entire world of Hyrule. The Surface would be under their leadership. They’d oversee the building of castles and the expansion of lands. His blood. His and Zelda’s children… who were also kings and queens and princes and princesses—

“My descendants are high royalty…”

Sky only realized he’d whispered that aloud when the others laughed again.

“You only now caught on to that? We’ve mentioned it like a million times!” Wind grinned sleepily.

“I-In my defense, I’ve been having a pretty crazy day!” Sky stammered.

Twilight tipped Sky’s sailcloth over the Skyloftian’s head as he passed. “Leave the man alone, boys. We’ve all had a crazy day.”

“Here, here,” Hyrule yawned, settling down next to Wild in the grass.

“Hey Wars,” Time called from his place at the edge of the camp. “Care to help me with watch tonight?”

The captain smiled fondly as he shirked off the last of his armor. “Anything you say, Mask. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

And so, with soup warming their stomachs and wonders filling their brains, the nine heroes finally settled down together under the light of countless stars.

>>><<<

Masterlist | First | Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Author's Note: Wind and Wild are a force to be reckoned with. You will be nicknamed and you will like it! At least they hope you will. Four’s still gonna need some convincing. =)

Also, say hello to history-buff Hyrule! He may still be learning how to read and write well, but oral tradition is strong with this one. Also his Zeldas are 100% tutoring him. Picked him right up out of the mud and brought him into their warm castle like he was a stray puppy. Also also, I adore the fact that Sky is the greatest grandfather of all the Zeldas. He’s already got a marriage to plan, and kids have up until now been just a fuzzy fantasy. This info sent him over the moon!

Hope you enjoyed the continuing story! Feel free to drop a comment if you did!

Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!

The thick, humid air of the forest smacked into him instantly. Caught off guard, Link coughed deeply as his lungs adjusted to the lower altitude. Huh, he thought. Our Surface village must be closer to the sky than I realized. Or did the ground sink over time? Can the ground sink? Goodness, that's... I'm not sure I even want to think about how long that would take.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. The forest was far too distracting.

It was a beautiful escape, light filtering in through the trees like stained glass in a temple. A small brook trickled through some fallen leaves and ferns nearby. Wind rustled playfully over the grass and through the branches, tickling Link's hair as it danced. And of course, there were birds. Lovely, tiny birds, scavenging the ground for the nuts and berries they were so fond of. Like little Loftwings, they filled the trees with peeping conversations, thriving in whatever time and place Link now looked upon.

Maybe the air was a bit thick, and maybe the trees were a bit shorter than the strong, curving giants of Faron Woods. That didn't seem to bother the little animals in the slightest. And if the birds were happy, well. That could only mean this was a lovely place to be.

Link took another tentative breath, clearing his throat of humidity. By the grace of the goddesses, he was already feeling a bit better. Maybe it was because of the tiny birds.

A small golden finch suddenly fluttered into Link's hair, perhaps confusing it for a nest to inspect. His mate rested herself on Link's shoulder, offering her opinion.

His heart squeezed.

It was definitely because of the tiny birds.

"All right, you two. You can hitch a ride, but hang on tight!" Link smiled as he started off through the forest. He didn't exactly know where he was going, but that was ok. If he was meant to find the eight others from his dream, he'd find them. It was only a matter of "when".

Eight others...

Link's stomach dropped a bit at the thought. He hadn’t been able to shake it since the dream.

Eight heroes, all pitted against a great evil of their time... along with eight or so maidens of wisdom, fated with the same burden. His burden. It was the one hero’s task he could not complete: to smite evil from the world for good. Because of him, Malice would forever chase his successors throughout time.

If he'd been just a bit faster at the end of his journey, what would these heroes’ lives have looked like? If he’d reached Demise before the curse had been uttered, then maybe—

No. No, he had to stop thinking that way. He and Zelda had been over it too many times to count, and she always insisted that it wasn't his fault. He believed her. Or at least, he tried. But it was one thing to make a mistake. It was another to see the consequences.

A small wing fluttered against his cheek, pulling him out of his dark thoughts. The female finch had left Link's shoulder and secured herself beside her mate on top of Link's head.

The Chosen Hero laughed. "You know you can't stay up there forever, right?"

The finches squeaked in unison.

"Fine, fine. Now let's see..."

He scanned the foreign woods, ears pricked for any sign of other Hylians. "Hmm… If I were a hero thrown through time, where would I… ah," Link paused, then chuckled. "Well. I suppose I'd be here, chatting with a couple of birds somewhere deep in the forest, wouldn't I?"

The goldfinches twittered in response.

"Yes, well. We'll just have to keep looking. Sigh. I sure wish I could dowse for things again..."

He wandered for a good while with his feathered companions, experiencing a lovely nature walk, but no heroes. How odd. Was he going in the wrong direction? Maybe he shouldn't have expected so much divine intervention... but why put him here if he weren't close to the others?

The birds suddenly started fidgeting, tweeting loudly in his ear and beating the air with their wings.

Link's hand jumped to his sword. "What? What is it?"

Just a few feet away from him, a bush rustled. The birds tore into the sky.

Link moved into in a defensive stance, waiting for an ambush. It didn't come.

Curiosity getting the better of him, the hero craned his neck to peek over the bushes.

"Hello? Is someone there?" he called.

Something shifted in the shadows, quietly sinking farther behind the bush. With a gasp, Link caught a glimpse of a cloaked, Hylian-like figure between the leaves.

"Hang on," he gently let go of his sword hilt, ignoring the panicking birds above him, "You're like me, aren't you? A hero? I had a dream that told me to come here. Is that how you got here, too?" He crouched low, tilting his head in a comforting smile. "Hey. There's nothing to fear. My name's Link. What's yours?"

The cloaked figure turned shyly towards him, as if pondering their options.

Link shouted in alarm as the figure scaled the bushes in a single bound, crashing into his chest. He lost his footing and thudded into the dirt. The thing above him threw off the cloak, and Link gasped.

Squealing in his face was a deformed bokoblin, skin all pale and grey. Its nose was squashed upwards atop an enormous jaw, ears fanning out like keese wings on either side of its drooling head. A single spike jutted out of its skull, surrounded by purple face markings. Its empty glowing eyes stared deep into him. It seemed to smile.

A lone battle horn wailed into the air around them. Bokoblins of all shapes and sized dropped out of every tree in the small clearing, flailing their clubs and swords in manic glee.

Many looked like the big-eared silver one, only they were different colors. Some had long pointed tails and underbites. Some even looked very similar to the ones from Link's time, all bulbous and squat. How they all got here was a question for another day, but for now he had bigger problems.

He was surrounded.

But far from dissuaded.

"Huh." Link raised his eyebrows at the bokoblin pressing on his chest. "Actually, I was wondering when guys like you were going to show up."

In one fluid motion, the hero swung his knee into the monster's gut and rolled away as it screamed and fell over.

In an instant, Link and the nearest bokoblin had clashed swords. He flicked his ear. Weapons jostled behind him. He parried the first bokoblin's cleaver and forced it back with his shield, then dropped to the ground. The long-tailed bokoblin behind him swung wildly, sending its club straight over Link’s head and into the face of the first monster. The hit bokoblin shrieked and crumbled into smoke.

While an ancient bokoblin violently punished the long-tail with its shield, another charged straight at Link. He side-stepped it at the last moment, slicing his sword through its side as it tore past. He spun and caught it in the back, driving its blackening form into the ground.

A claw grazed the left of his face, sending a jolt of pain burning down his spine. Link hissed and raised his shield. More claws clanged madly against it from the other side, where a blue, big-eared bokoblin snarled at him.

Link furrowed his brow. Not today, beast.

He swapped his sword for a whip and let it fly, ensnaring the legs of the creature. He pulled the raging thing right under his shield, and was quick to land the final blow.

A second more and his sword was in the air again, blocking another attacker. This one swung like an animal, and like lightning his weapon danced to stop each blow.

Link's body sunk into an all too familiar rhythm. He'd not felt this way in a while, but the muscle memories never faded. His memories never faded.

Parry, swipe. Thrust, shield block. Leap attack. Slay the monster. Turn back for more.

He felt the sun warm his back as his sailcloth billowed around his shoulders, accentuating every move he made.

Spin attack. Downwards strike. Dodge. Upwards strike. Repeat.

Three more enemies remained. Two. One.

He shouted a battle cry, charging forwards with his sword leveled at the final enemy.

Shink!

A moment passed.

The last bokoblin slipped off his blade with a smokey hiss, leaving nothing but rupees and a single claw in the ferns.

The Chosen Hero stood still, staring at the shaking end of his sword in a daze.

All at once his lungs began screaming for thinner air. He wheezed wetly, his head pounding as he forced his hand to lower the blade and rest. Too much... he'd pushed himself too much... He'd forgotten how easy it was to fight hoards and lose himself. Even after his quest, even with all the training and occasional monster battles he'd experienced for the past three years, his lungs still did him no favors. Ugh. Stupid stamina...

A twig snapped behind him.

Link's eyes shot open. Instinct took over, and in a blink, his sword was raised in the face of a stranger.

"WHOA! Whoa whoa hey! Hey! Sorry! We're friends... no more bokoblins. See? You got them all!"

The stranger—a young man with long, wild blond hair and scars on his face—held his hands up in a non-threatening pose.

Link blinked.

One, two, no, three Hylians with shields and swords. That brunet one, he was wearing a familiar tunic... a green tunic, just like...

The Hero of the Sky gasped, stumbling backwards and lowering his sword. "Oh! Oh no. Sorry, I—!"

"No! No, it's ok!" The one with long hair stepped towards him slowly. "I know how it can get right after a bad fight. Not fun. But, wow..."

"You were amazing," breathed the brown-haired hero.

The third hero, who wore a bright blue cap, huffed and crossed his arms. "Yeah. Impressive. But try and save some monsters for the rest of us next time, 'k, hot shot?" He looked pointedly at Link's sword. "And please refrain from skewering us."

Link stuttered, his free hand suddenly flailing as he hurried to apologize. "I-I didn’t mean to… oh boy." He dragged a hand through his hair. "Here I am, looking all over the woods for you and the first thing I do is almost—"

Urgent tweeting cut him off. A flurry of golden wings caught his eye in the boughs above, and when Link turned to look, the two goldfinches had settled themselves right above him in the tree.

"Oh!" Link sighed, relieved. "There you two are! You knew there would be trouble right from the start, didn't you? Sorry I didn’t listen."

The birds chattered happily.

The three heroes raised their eyebrows.

Link caught their gaze and blushed. He imagined he was quite the sight: a fully-trained knight with monster slime dripping from his blade, pleasantly sharing a conversation with two tiny birds. Groose would’ve never let him hear the end of it.

For a moment, Link could have sworn he heard one of the strangers mutter the words "Bird Man" under his breath. The Chosen Hero frowned. Maybe the humidity was affecting him more than he thought.

Distracted, Link rubbed the back of his neck and promptly hissed in pain. His glove had grazed the stinging monster scratch on his face.

"You're hurt," the brunet boy winced in sympathy. He walked closer, already pulling a cloth out of his bag.

Link shook his head quickly. "No, please! Don't waste your materials on me, it's not that bad..."

The boy went alarmingly serious. "It could get infected."

"But-"

"Here." He handed him the fabric and a small jar. "At least dry it and put some salve on it? You don't want an infection in the woods, trust me."

Link paused only a moment before taking the items. "Thank you," he smiled.

"It's the least I can do!"

Link hummed as he cleaned the wound, a picture of Zelda's stubborn kindness popping into his head. She acted the exact same way whenever he got hurt. He'd learned very quickly never to fight her when she got like that, and this boy before him was no exception to the rule.

“Wow, Bush Boy! Never thought I’d see you get that stone-faced over anything!” smirked the hero with the blue cap. “I’m actually a little nervous now.”

“Treat your injuries correctly and you won’t need to be,” The brunet deadpanned.

For a second, the hero’s companions looked genuinely frightened. Then they burst into laughter.

The young brunet rolled his eyes, but there was no malice in them. Instead, he turned back to Link. “Was it just the face?”

“Huh?”

“Er, you were coughing earlier,” he clarified. “I-I just wondered, they didn’t hit you in the lungs, did they?”

“O-oh!” The Skyloftian felt heat rush to his face. He heard that?!? How embarrassing… “Uh, no! No, I’m ok. Just a long fight, that’s all.” Change the subject change the subject! “Hey, I don’t think I caught any of your names?”

He grimaced. Smooth recovery, Link.

The brunet looked concerned for a moment, but his snickering friends distracted him. In almost perfect unison, the three locked eyes, and coy smiles began stretching across all their faces. As if they’d rehearsed, the future heroes turned back as one, gleefully announcing:

“Hi! Name’s Link! What’s yours?”

Link—or rather—the Hero of the Sky, gaped at them.

“Wha—? But who—ALL of you?!?!”

“Welcome to the Chain, buddy!” The long-haired hero beamed, throwing his arms wide.

“The ‘Hero’s’ name is ‘Link,’” explained the blue-capped hero with a smirk. “Been that way since the dawn of time. Or so I hear.”

You have no idea, Link swallowed, still processing this turn of events. “But how do you tell each other apart?”

“Oh, we have a strategy!” said the brunet.

The long-haired hero nodded sagely. “After much discussion and turmoil, we have decided on new nicknames.”

The Skyloftian blinked. “New?”

“The lesser names have been scrubbed from history.”

The blue-capped hero rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

“I’m just saying that your old nicknames were… less than great,” the long-haired one grinned.

“Whatever. They were funnier,” the Link with the cap scoffed and faced the brunet. “You really like the name ‘Traveler’?”

“It’s better than ‘Bush Boy’,’” the traveler laughed. “Are you just upset that the champion’s calling you ‘Veteran’?”

“I am not! ...Entirely!”

“He most definitely is,” murmured the long-haired champion, elbowing Link’s arm.

Link felt a smile creeping onto his face. He was just about to ask the teen what nickname he should be given when he saw it.

When he saw her.

Behind the young champion’s shoulder, catching the light with her faceted amethyst hilt, glittered a sword. She shifted between brilliant blues and the richest of purples with every sway, dancing through the falling leaves as she so often loved to do. Gold peeked out from just above her scabbard, meeting Link’s eye in a playful flicker, as if to say, “I am here, my Master. Do not fear. What journey may I aid you with today?”

There was only one sword in the world that could do that. His sword. The Master Sword.

Fi.

“…only fair we give you a name, too! ...Uh, hey? Are you ok?”

The one they called the champion fidgeted before him, turning with Fi and waving a hand in Link’s face.

The Skyloftian could only stare. The sword was nestled comfortably against the other hero’s shoulder, as if she’d been there all her life. And Link supposed, she really had been. The champion was a hero. A brother of his own spirit, and like every hero across time, he’d been watched over and aided by the Sword that Seals the Darkness.

Link had hoped to see the eight others as people. He really, really had. But now that illusion seemed to be shattered. They were heroes. His consequences. But at least Fi was here, and she was content. Like the many tiny birds of the forest, she’d accepted time’s passing. And if she could do that, then maybe Link could try.

“Your sword…” he breathed finally. “May I… could I…?” The Chosen Hero’s hand reached out before he could stop it.

Flashes of protectiveness, maybe worry, flicked through the champion’s eyes, but they were gone the moment they arrived. The wild hero’s face slipped into a neutral mask as he nodded, surrendering his blade into a stranger’s hands.

Link gasped as her hilt slipped into his fingers once more. Everything about her was warm, her weight, her balance, all familiar. In awe, he turned her over in the light, waltzing her slowly as his bittersweet smile grew. It was her. He could feel her quiet presence, resting just beneath the heavenly steel. He gripped her hilt, holding her firm before him with one unwavering hand. Traveling all this way through time might have been awful, but this. This made it all worth it.

“Hello again, my old friend.”

“You know the blade?” asked the veteran.

“Know her?” the Hero of the Sky smiled, eyes only for his dear friend. “I forged this sword.”

The moment he uttered those words, something shifted in that wooded grove. The eyes of those around him changed. It was as if they were seeing him clearly for the first time, and they didn’t quite know what to make of him. The traveler and the veteran opted to gasp, looking between Link and each other as if their great grandfather had just stepped out of his portrait in the sitting room.

The champion, however, was still. His body betrayed nothing but reverence and loyalty as he looked silently on, observing the Skyloftian with the upmost respect. Whatever emotions he’d let sparkle and dance like a wildfire before had now been doused and buried. He’d become a statue of a perfect knight, although completely disarmed.

The veteran finally voiced his thoughts. “You… you’re the Chosen Hero. The first Link.”

The poor traveler looked ready to pass out. “You made the Master Sword?”

The Hero of the Sky laid the silvery side of the blade against his palm, stroking the pearly smoothness that had taken ages to mold. “Forged, yes. Made from scratch...? Not quite.” He smiled at the other boys, a faraway look in his eyes. “This blade was once the Goddess Sword, a beautiful weapon created by Hylia herself, who always intended for it to become something stronger. It took forging her in sacred fire and song to get her to what she is now, and even then… Fi’s always been much more than just a sword.”

“…Have you heard the voice?”

Link looked up at the champion, who’d been alarmingly quiet since handing over Fi. He tried desperately to get a read on what the boy was thinking, but the most he saw was a brief flicker in his sharp blue eyes. Hope? Fear? Curiosity? All three? It was impossible to tell.

In his softest voice, Link said, “Yes. Many times, during my journey. I knew her when she was awake and had a body, full of life and energy, like a fairy. She guided me. Kept me company and gave me council when I needed it most… aaaand sometimes when I didn’t.” Warmth glittered in his eyes, but in the same breath, he grew somber. “…Then, when it was all over, she had to sleep. She sacrificed herself to eons without a body, but all that time, she’s been here, watching over us. Guiding us…”

He turned his gaze back to the stoic champion, studying his blank face. It was a face full of tales, littered with burns and scars from goddess-knows where. The champion didn’t deserve those marks. But he did deserve something—someone—else.

Without a moment more of hesitation, Link held out the Master Sword.

“…Now, she guides you.”

It was if the champion were wearing a mask of wax. His façade slowly cracked and melted away, allowing the river of emotions he’d been holding at bay to flood back into his eyes. Familiar uncertainties rushed through them, ones the Skyloftian knew all too well as a Knight of Skyloft. Seems some things never change…

Link didn’t want to let Fi go again so soon. She was his responsibility; these boys shouldn’t have to fix his mistakes for him so far in the future. And yet… when the champion allowed his burn-coated fingers to flinch towards her glittering hilt… when the veteran looked on with eyes that seemed far too old and brand new at the same time… when the traveler gazed longingly at the sword’s surface, daring to believe he was enough… Link knew what Fi wanted.

He held her out farther, silently granting the permission he never should’ve needed to give.

As soon as the champion’s fingers grazed her hilt, the sword flashed a brilliant turquoise. The light illuminated the faces of all four heroes around it, and they jumped. The champion, veteran, and traveler alike stood frozen in awe.

“Whoa.”

The Chosen Hero chuckled. “She doesn’t do that for just anyone.”

The long-haired knight grasped the hilt more tightly, finally taking back the sword he’d had initially. She flickered once more, the light dancing in his eyes, before returning to her standard silvery form. The champion breathed deeply, finally at ease.

“I-I… guess we know who’s in charge now,” the champion said shakily.

Link cocked his head. “Huh?”

“Um… The Chosen Hero?” the veteran offered, as if it were the most obvious fact in the world. “That’s kinda a big deal. Just a bit. Seniority and all that.”

“Y-yep…” swallowed the traveler. He was clutching the cloth that he’d given Link to clean his cuts, staring at it with enormous eyes, like the world would fall apart if he dropped it.

The Hero of the Sky felt his heart speeding up. This was far from the reaction he’d been expecting. Lead them? To where? He’d had enough trouble just finding these three in the first place, and yet they all seemed ready to jump off a cliff if he asked them to.

He gulped thickly and shuffled backwards, fingering his white sailcloth as his mind raced on what to do. Was he supposed to lead them, as the first Link? Did he still have that right, after Demise’s—No. No, don’t think about that. They need you, Link, it’s not the time to doubt!

They stared up at him, expectantly.

Link stuttered, “U-um… well… maybe we could—”

Bushes erupted in the distance, crashing together like the wind of a hurricane. What sounded like a hundred footfalls thundered through the forest, barreling straight for the four heroes.

Swords and shields were drawn in an instant.

The volume of the disruption grew louder as their enemies advanced. If they thought an obvious full-on assault would make any difference over a sneak attack, these monsters were very mistaken. Unwavering, the Links stood their ground, faces hard and fingers itching for battle.

The foliage began to stir.

The birds in the trees flew for cover.

Not a second after the first glint of armor appeared through the leaves, the four heroes leaped as one, yelling with all of their might, “HYAA—!

“—AAAAAHHH!!?!?”

 Two armored knights, two shorter heroes, and a young warrior in a black, fluffy cape all shouted in confusion, skidding to a halt just in time to dodge their blades.

A boy in blue tripped and rolled forwards until his nose was an inch from the Master Sword. He looked up at the champion with wide, dark green eyes.

Nine heroes froze.

The boy’s face lit up with an enormous grin, and he turned back to his friends, shouting, “I found them!!!”

Every sword was sheathed immediately.

“Here we go again…” muttered the veteran.

“Oh my goodness! Are you ok? That was close…” the Skyloftian started rambling off a list of apologies as he and the champion hurried to pick the boy off the ground. The boy pushed them off of him lightly, his nose wrinkling at all the attention.

The knight with the scarf caught him in a headlock anyway, ruffling his curly hair. “Goodness, Sailor, are we going to have to teach you how to walk? How many times have you tripped this past hour?”

The sailor shoved him. “Har. Har. Just wait until we need to sail somewhere, then we’ll see who’s got their sea legs!”

The knight went a bit green at the thought, and the older man grasped his shoulder.

“A sea captain, Warriors is not,” the one-eyed hero explained. ‘Warriors’ grunted and waved him off.

Amidst the jumble, the traveler was making a hasty headcount as he tried and failed to keep his composure. “…S-seven, eight, nine. Nine. T-that’s everyone! We did it! Huh.”

“How ‘bout that,” the hero with the fur cape agreed, cracking his stiff back.

It was at that moment that the Skyloftian, traveler, veteran, and champion all noticed how out of breath the five new heroes were.

“Are you all ok?” the champion frowned. “Looks like you were running. What just happened?

“Ah!” the shortest hero perked up. “Well you see now, there was this huge monster behind us, but I think we lost ‘em!”

No sooner had he uttered those words than an enormous roar shook the earth. The trees in the distance shivered with the force of something tearing them apart like minor inconveniences.

The sailor started panicking. “We didn’t lose him!!!”

“What gave that away?” Warriors shouted.

The champion’s eyes narrowed. “I know that roar…” he muttered, barely audible. In a moment, he’d taken off in the direction of the monster, the Master Sword in tow.

“CHAMPION!” shouted the traveler and Chosen Hero.

“The heck does he think he’s doing?!?” growled the veteran, charging right after him. Before anyone could object, the young man became a blur, his boots whirring with strange, feathered magic as he disappeared through the trees.

The heroes suddenly found their number down to seven.

“Looks like we’re fighting the giant, angry monster, Smithy,” the black-caped hero said.

The smith drew his sword. “Oh joy.”

“Back around again, boys,” commanded the oldest knight, effortlessly turning their retreat into a charge.

He must be their de facto leader, the Skyloftian figured as they ran. Makes perfect sense. He looks far more experienced, like a knight instructor from back home. I just hope we reach the other two in time…

As it turned out, the runaways were holding their own quite well.

By the time the group had pushed past the last batch of trees, the veteran was wielding a red cane swirling with magical energy. A glowing red block winked into existence beneath the champion’s feet, and with a mighty upwards swing, the vet sent the block careening into the air.

The champion wasted no time in using the momentum, sailing right above the giant monster’s head with a well-used paraglider. At a speed that rivaled lightning, he notched three bomb arrows at once, letting them fly with deadly accuracy into the creature’s eye. Three. Six. Now nine arrows to the face, and the beast was howling with pain and rage. It toppled backwards onto its rear, only to have its entire lower half enveloped in a thick coating of ice.

The veteran breathed evenly as he twirled a sparkling blue scepter, crystals of ice flaking off and glowing in the frosted grass beneath him. “Want some more, ugly?”

The champion leapt atop the beast’s head, whacking it wildly with his sword as the veteran hammered at it from below. The champion’s courage surged into Fi’s blade, and she glowed for him, delivering blow after blow with frightening effectiveness.

Suddenly, the beast could take no more. It lashed out with yellow claws, yanking itself upwards and shattering its icy prison. The veteran threw up a shield to block the shards of ice as the champion clung on for dear life.

The Chosen Hero was already running towards them, fully prepared to join the fight, when something shifted in the atmosphere behind him.

The air turned crimson as red magic rippled past his ear.

A blazing sword beam appeared out of nowhere, flying at the beast like a meteor. The magic flame engulfed the creature’s eye in a flash of white light, blinding it on contact and consuming its ratty hair in fire.

The champion leapt through the air. Using the fire’s updraft of smoke, he reopened his paraglider, sailing into the sky with ease to resume his bomb arrow assault. The veteran, never one to be left behind, continued whaling on the monster’s feet with sword and ice.

A glint of silver tore the Skyloftian’s gaze away. The traveler stood bravely beside him, wielding a gorgeous, shining sword of silver and rubies, still shimmering with the last tongues of fire. The red stones flickered with barely contained magic… and so did the traveler’s deep forest eyes.

“So cool…” the sailor whispered behind them.

The traveler jolted a little at the praise. His eyes met the ground bashfully, but only for a moment. He shook his head, renewed vigor in his stance as he stared down the towering monster.

A large, worn hand clasped the traveler’s shoulder. The brunet jumped in surprise again, but his magic soothed as soon as he recognized the black-caped hero behind him.

“What are we, boys? Heroes or wallflowers?” the caped hero asked. “We’re not gonna let those two have all the fun, now are we?”

“Not if I can help it,” Warriors smirked, already eyeing the veteran’s ice rod enviously.

The tall, one-eyed knight nodded, his smile making the hero with the fur cape swell with pride. The older hero then squinted at where the fire had subsided on the monster’s head. “Smithy? Care for another flight?”

The shortest hero was already clipping on a cape of white feathers, smiling all the while. “You’ll have to toss me.”

“Done.” The one-eyed knight hooked the smith under the arms, spinning once and flinging the boy into the air.

The Hero of the Sky nearly had a heart attack as the hero’s small frame flailed, but in an instant, the cape fluttered, and the smithy was soaring and shooting arrows right alongside the champion.

“YEAH! All hands on deck!!!” shouted the sailor, dashing forwards alongside the black-caped hero and the captain. The three drew their swords as one, joining the fray like a swarm of angry wasps.

So many heroes doing what they do best… So many skills and talents at play…

The Skyloftian met the traveler’s anxious eyes, no doubt feeling just as overwhelmed as he was. He sent the younger boy a shaky smile. “Ready, Link?”

The traveler’s eyes widened. Slowly, tentatively, he sent him back a lopsided grin. “No.”

“Me neither,” laughed the Skyloftian. “Shall we go together, then?”

 The traveler nodded. “It’d be dangerous to go alone!”

The boy’s sword glowed with light, and the Chosen Hero readied his whip. Side by side, they charged, meeting their enemy with renewed fervor. With all the damage already done by the veteran and champion, and the added push from the army of Links, it wasn’t long before the monster began to topple.

The beast roared one last, angry howl before its body turned black. White and purple cracks shot across its form like lightning bolts, releasing ribbons of hissing purple steam. The creature seized up all at once. Then, fast as a blink, it shattered into glowing plumes of smoke, spreading rupees, materials, and goo all over the clearing.

The smithy and the champion landed next to each other in the grass, high-fiving instantly.

The veteran was fending off a very clingy traveler and the captain simultaneously, the latter of which already bargaining for a turn with the ice rod.

The one-eyed knight was patting the goo off the young man with the black cape in an almost fatherly way. He didn’t seem to even realize he was doing it. The younger man certainly made no move to stop him.

The Skyloftian jumped a little as a small fist thumped against his side. The sailor boy, covered from head to toe in dirt and goo, was leaning heavily on his sword, fist raised in victory. His smile was filled to the brim in youthful bliss.

“You guys are awesome,” he said, huge eyes sparkling up at the Chosen Hero.

The Skyloftian was struck by the sudden urge to tuck this little fledgling under his wing forever. He settled for draping his sailcloth around his shoulder, and remarkably, the boy didn’t protest. Instead, he leaned into the semi-hug, eyes still jumping from one hero to the next in wonder.

“Hey Bird Man!”

It took Link a moment to realize the champion was talking about him. The wild-haired hero jogged up to him, holding out the Master Sword in her scabbard.

“Here,” he said. “I think this belongs to you.”

“But—"

“I know. But I have way more swords than I know what to do with, and besides,” he winked, “I think she misses you.”

He tossed Fi through the air, and the Skyloftian caught her effortlessly. He couldn’t deny how nice it felt to sense her presence again, and it must have shown, for the champion was smiling brightly. The Chosen Hero decided that he rather liked this side of the young knight.

“Hey, if we’re just tossing around the Master Sword, can I call next dibs?” the veteran cut in, and they laughed.

“Of course,” the Skyloftian said. “She aids all of us equally, just as I said before.”

“Wow,” the veteran shook his head. “Anyone ever tell you you’re way too nice? Call me a hoarder if you want, but I can’t stand it when people use my stuff, and here you are, letting everyone swing around your home-made immortal sword!”

“Home-forged,” he corrected politely, “and really! I don’t mind! Neither does she!”

The Chosen Hero’s neck prickled as he felt an army of eyes bore into him all over again.

Uh oh.

The sailor boy went rigid beside him. Slowly, as if Link would vanish if he moved too fast, the sailor looked up at him, his hand locked in a grasp on his tunic. “…w h a t…”

The others fared no better.

“I’m sorry… WHAT?” shouted the knight with the scarf as he half fell into, half grabbed the arm of the one-eyed knight. “Forged? The Master Sword?!?”

The older knight was going pale.

“Hoo boy,” muttered the black-caped hero, fingers digging into his hair.

“O-oh! Yeah, did we not mention he was the Chosen Hero?” the traveler scratched his nose nervously.

The sailor shot out from under the Skyloftian’s arm, hands curling deep into his golden hair as he spun around. “No way… NO. WAY.” He rounded on the champion. “No way?!? He’s not…” The champion nodded slowly, grinning. The sailor screamed, “HE’S REAL?!?”

Link clutched Fi to his chest like a lifeline, overwhelmed by his spiritual successors. He waved shakily. “Um… H-hi…?”

“Wings and waves…” the sailor swooned. The smithy caught his shoulders.

“S-so… just to get things straight,” the shortest boy said, his colorful eyes gleaming like starlight as he stared excitedly at Sky, “we’ve got THE Hero of the Sky in our midst?!?”

“First the Hero of Time, now the Chosen Hero…” the sailor confirmed, sounding giddy.

The champion balked, “Wait, The Hero of Time?!?!?”

Now everyone was freaking out.

The one-eyed knight looked over the frantic boys until he met the Skyloftian’s gaze. They stared at each other helplessly, silently empathizing over having no idea where to even begin.

“…It seems we have a lot of catching up to do,” sighed the Hero of Time. “This is a nice enough clearing, and it’s getting late. Break for camp?”

Shouts of agreement shot through the group immediately. Questions were already being tossed in all directions as bedrolls were thrown to the ground, each boy and man desperate for answers.

Link wrapped Zelda’s sailcloth around his shoulders more tightly.

This was going to be an interesting quest.

>>><<<

Masterlist | First | Chapter 3

Author's Note: While Wars may be the true group medic, I like to think Hyrule is also hyper aware of injuries as to not attract infection or monsters in the woods. =) Also, I'm not sure exactly how much they know about each other in LU or Zelda canon, but for this fic's purposes, I'm gonna say the boys know vague stories/myths/fairy tales of some heroes before them, but the stories are so old and warped that they're impossible to prove. Hence a lot of excitement! ^u^

Hope you enjoyed the continuing story! Feel free to drop a comment if you did!

Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!

It actually wasn't a bad spot. This high up, he had a wonderful view of the large, unfamiliar forest around him. The thing was, when you get a dream from Hylia herself summoning you on a world-saving adventure spanning all of time... yeah. The tree was kind of underwhelming.

The sound of two distant voices caught his attention. Carefully adjusting his position, Link peered past the boughs below, flicking his long ears towards the strangers. He crouched behind the thick, sunlit leaves as the bushes rustled close by.

A muffled shout met his ears. Not a moment later, a young man with a blue cap stumbled out of a bush, scowling like he was ready to fight the entire world or die trying.

“Argh!” the blond muttered, sticking a bloody knuckle into his mouth. “Stu’id busf.”

Some foliage behind him shifted, revealing another boy, this one with brown hair and a humble tunic. “Oh, that was a bramble bush,” he added helpfully. His grumpy friend only glared at him.

The brunet held up his hands. “Hey, I tried to warn you. Are you ok?”

“Fine,” huffed the prickly one, tearing his hand away from his mouth. “Swell. Just dandy!”

The other shrugged. “It was just a question...”

The prickly stranger turned towards his companion again, but instead of lashing out, he simply… deflated. “Yeah… whatever.” His scowl softened into a simple frown. “And you still have no idea where we are?”

“No, sorry. I’m not exactly… great with directions?”

The blond sighed a sigh that would make Revali jealous, but he didn’t shout. To Link’s surprise, he simply patted the brunet’s shoulder.

“We’ll head for higher ground, then, it’s fine. Just make sure I don’t run into any more of those plants, ok Bush Boy?”

The brunet brightened, even chuckling a bit at the nickname. “Ok.”

“Good. Goddesses willing, we’ll find the others by sundown. It’s already getting close to dark, so we better move fast. Keep up, Link.”

The other grinned. “Ok, Link.”

The Hero of the Wild nearly had a heart attack. He scrambled to get a better view of the strangers, but in his haste, his foot slipped. Before he knew what was happening, he was falling. Twigs snapped as they did little to break his tumble. Expertly, Link curled into a ball, preparing to roll when he hit the ground. At least, that was the plan. He ended up rolling onto something else.

“OUCH!” shouted the boy that had broken his fall. “Wh-WHO…?!?”

“Oh no!” The brunet was at their side instantly, gently pulling Link off of… Link.

Wow, this was going to get confusing.  

“Are you ok?” said the humble stranger, checking the Hero of the Wild for injuries.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, just got squashed by an entire person but yeah! I’m great,” grumbled the other one.

The brunet panicked as his “squashed” friend continued to groan, but the Hero of the Wild beat him to the apology.

“Sorry for the rough landing, but I didn’t exactly ask the portal to dump me up in that tree. You ok?” he asked, giving them a sparkling grin.

The other Links stared at him in silence. The blond one picked himself off the ground slowly, never breaking eye contact. “…Run that by me again?”

Link, still grinning, partially unsheathed the Master Sword strapped to his back. “I’m Link. Hero of the Wild—or at least, that’s what the princess calls me. I’m gonna take a guess and say you two had the same ‘nine heroes across time’ dream, yeah?”

The brunet’s face was breaking into an excited smile, while the other Link dragged his hand down his face.

“Goddesses help us…” the later muttered, scrutinizing the bedraggled new hero through his fingers.

Link absently plucked some leaves out of his long, wild hair.

The brunet strode up to him, awe written all over his face. “The Hero of the Wild… what a title! And is that… the sword? The legendary one? Or maybe it’s a different blade…”

“Yep!” said Link, frowning inwardly. Doesn’t he recognize the Master Sword? He’s a Hero of Old, so he must have used it on his quest, too… right? Maybe I should ask him later…

“Wow…” the brunet breathed, still enraptured by the blade. “Uh, I’m Link! I mean, you already know that, obviously, but—”

The blond cut off his friend’s ramble with a quick elbow. “He knows. Stop groveling.”

“Hey, I wasn’t—!”

The Hero of the Wild started to laugh, cutting off their squabble. “I get it, it’s ok. This is kind of cool!”

The brunet Link nodded, but the blond Link shrugged.

The Champion of the Wild hummed thoughtfully, studying his two namesakes. “So… if we’re all ‘Link,’ should we try to use code names or something?”

The blond nodded, not missing a beat. “Sure.” He pointed to the brunet and the Hero of the Wild, respectively. “He’s Bush Boy and you can be Tree Guy. Now let’s move it, ok? I still want to find a clear path, preferably sometime this century.” With that, the prickly Link turned and began marching towards the hills.

“Yikes,” Link muttered to 'Bush Boy'. “How ‘bout we call him ‘Briar Boy’?”

The brunet bit his lip to keep from laughing. “I-I’m sure he’s just readjusting. Adventures aren’t new to him… he’s a veteran, after all, the great Hero of Legend!”

“Hey!” the blond shouted. “I told you to knock off the hero worship! Call me that title again and I’m aiming my briars straight for you!”

Link choked on his surprise, and the brunet hero laughed. Ok, so maybe this guy wasn’t so bad after all. Either way, two out of eight heroes was progress, and they were surprisingly… human. Just boys, really, not too much younger than Link was. They certainly weren’t the godlike spirits of yore he’d heard in fairy tales. Maybe… he could do this. He could try and be like them, this side of them. He could be himself. Be Link.

Smirking, he winked at their blue-capped leader. “Lead the way then, Prickle Pants!”

The Hero of Legend whipped around with such outrage that the brunet Link keeled over, hiding his laugh within his hands.

The Hero of the Wild smiled. He had a good feeling about this new adventure.

>>><<< 

The Hero of Wind was officially having the best day of his life.

Air rushed past his face and into his lungs as he raced down the grassy slope, half-sliding, half-flying away from the monsters at his heels. Keeping his momentum, the young sailor leapt into the air, swinging his sword like a hurricane. The spin attack swept up the army of keese and spiders around him. Any monster that his blade missed, the wind took care of, thrusting the wind-blown enemies in all directions and straight into the ground.

The sailor whooped once in victory, but it was short lived. His boot caught a rock, sending him tumbling the rest of the way down the hill. He landed on his back in the grass, still laughing.

This kind of thing was always fun. Monsters were challenges just waiting to be defeated, especially when they had some secret treasures to drop. But he did that every day with Tetra and her crew. It was entertaining, but routine. Same-old seas, same-old enemies. But today…

“Rancher! On your six!”

“H’yup!”

In a flurry of motion, the rancher’s silver sword cut through the air above the sailor, slashing clean through the bokoblin who’d been sneaking up on the boy. The pig monster squealed, collapsing into a cloud of billowing purple smoke.

The young sailor leapt to his feet and cheered as the rancher turned, adjusting his flowing cape of dark fur.

“That was amazing!” The sailor grinned at the older hero. “Thanks!”

A long whistle flowed out of the third hero behind them. “Not bad for a farm boy,” smirked the army captain, twirling his own elegant sword as he slashed through another enemy.

“They breed us tough,” the farmhand replied. He nodded to the sailor. “Hey kid, not a bad attack on the hill up there, either. I barely saw you. You were quick!”

A swell of pride raced through the boy’s chest at the praise. It hadn’t escaped his notice that both the other heroes—the other Links—were far older than him. It was nice when people saw him as more than “just a kid,” but to be called skilled by one of the big guys? Jackpot.

“Careful, Rancher, I can see the boy’s head expanding from here!”

The sailor flashed the captain a wicked grin. “I think you’re just jealous.”

“Ha!” the captain laughed, parrying another enemy. “Talking back to an officer, how shameful. That’s a state offense, Sailor!”

A lizard enemy swung its spiked tail angrily, but the captain leapt over it with ease. Sapphire scarf billowing behind him, he spun, taking the tail clean off with his sword and jamming the hilt into the monster’s jaw. With one last strike and a raging hiss, the lizalfos was vanquished.

The sailor didn’t know how the captain could move so fast in all that gleaming armor, but it certainly made him look exponentially cooler. Ok, now I’m the jealous one, he thought.

The boy turned just in time to see the rancher straight up body flip the last of their enemies into a tall rock, turning the monster to smoke on impact. The sailor’s mouth hung open.

“What on Farore’s green earth was that?” the captain cried, voicing the sailor’s thoughts.

The farmhand only shrugged. “I wrestle sometimes.”

“Sometimes?!?”

The sailor laughed. Yeah. Fighting monsters was fun and all, but starting a quest with an epic brawl alongside two mighty heroes of courage? Heck yeah.

Best day of his life.

That is, until the ground started to erupt.

Vines split the earth as man-eating plants freed themselves from their grassy prison. Sap dripped down their gaping maws, and they snapped their spiny teeth. The heroes quickly found themselves surrounded by a wall of vines and faceless, hungry enemies.

The three heroes groaned.

“Why can’t we have nice things for a change?” muttered the captain, pulling a rather impressive set of gauntlets and a ball and chain out of his magic satchel.

“Our name is Link, and we’re heroes of Hyrule, that’s why,” the rancher grimaced while notching a bomb arrow to his bow. He lit the fuse. “Supper time!” he shouted, shooting the bomb right into a gaping maw of fauna. It exploded instantly.

The sailor reached for his boomerang, hoping that these deku babas sliced just as easily as they did back home. He aimed a high arc at their stems, but before he could swing, something caught his eye.

The sailor bolted. “LOOK OUT!” he shouted, careening into the rancher just in time to throw up a shield. A rock nearly as big as his head slammed against the metal with a loud CLANG! before ricocheting straight into the wall of enemies, vaporizing a few of them. More plants sprung to take their place, hissing and snarling with rage.

The rancher’s eyes went wide. “Since when do babas shoot rocks?!?”

“They don’t!” The sailor pointed to the army of smaller enemies crawling through the vines. “But octorocks sure do!”

The rubbery creatures glared at them through horizontal pupils, anchoring their sticky tentacles to either the plants or the ground. The mollusks began to inflate in unison, leaning back and preparing to strike.

“AH!” the sailor flailed. “Shields! Quick, your shields! They’re gonna blow!”

If there was one thing to be said about the heroes of courage, it was that they were fast learners. In sync, the three heroes ducked together, back-to-back, and threw up their shields. The volley of rocks pounded into their barricade with a deafening noise, bouncing right back towards their enemies. A few seconds later, the monsters were roaring in outrage.

Ignoring their ringing ears, the trio dropped their shields to see the massive, smoking holes they’d put in their enemy’s defenses.

“All right!” the rancher cheered.

“Yeah, take that, you stupid daisies!” the sailor cried, earning a playful shove from the captain.

“Quick thinking, squirt. Now watch this!” The captain pushed his teammates down, standing between them and swinging the ball and chain. The circle began low and slow, but gradually picked up speed until the metal was a blur above them. With a loud, “HYAH!” the chain extended, smacking any plant in its deadly radius with sickening speed. A cloud of purple smoke formed around them, and the vines withered.

The captain caught the chain with a grin. “How was that?”

The sailor broke out into cheers. “WHOO! YES! That was awesome!”

“Thank you,” the captain basked in the boy’s praise, grinning from ear to ear.

The rancher huffed at him. “Who’s got the big head now?”

“Oh, shut—” the captain cut himself off. The smoke was clearing, and it was suddenly very clear that they had more enemies. The octorocks were crawling back out of the ground, and the shorter babas were growing exponentially, desperate to fill the gaps the taller ones had left.

“Whoops,” said the sailor. “Missed some.”

“That’s a whole lot more than ‘some’,” the farmhand muttered.

The captain swore under his breath. “It’s fine. We just repeat our attack until they give. Duck when I swing and form a barricade when the rocks fly.”

“And aim our reflections at the bad guys,” added the sailor. “Aye-aye, Captain!”

The warrior grinned, but the farmhand didn’t look so convinced. “And if they just keep growing and replacing the others? Nah, we’ll just tire ourselves out. We’ve gotta hurry and get out of this patch.”

One glance around told them that this was far easier said than done. They were surrounded again.

The rancher lashed at the thickening vines, only for more plants to spring up and snap at him. “See?”

“We could blast an opening,” the sailor suggested, parrying a wayward rock.

The captain’s eyes became sharp as he calculated their options. He blocked an attack with his gauntlet, then nodded. “We’ll need to be fast.” The green vines were closing in on them, stretching even taller than before. “Concentrate all your attacks in front of us! On my mark!

“One!”

The ranch hand notched an arrow.

“Two!”

The sailor tightened his grip on his boomerang, ready to strike.

“DUCK!!!”

Wait a minute. That wasn’t the captain's voice—

From somewhere behind the vines, an absolutely massive broadsword shot through the stems like they were butter. A rough hand yanked the sailor’s collar down just in time for the weapon to miss his head, sailing over it by mere millimeters. A few strands of the boy’s curly golden hair fell beside him in the grass.

He made a mental note to thank the rancher later.

“Heads up!”

A shout from above drew everyone’s eyes to the sky. A small boy, silhouetted by the sun, soared into the air with a cape of fluttering feathers. Blue and ivory extended like albatross wings, suspending the boy long enough for him to notch his bow and release a volley of arrows upon the enemies below. When the winds turned against him, he dived, pulling out a colorful sword just in time to thrust it through a baba’s head.

He turned to the sailor and grinned. “Hello!”

“…Ahoy,” the sailor blinked, stunned.

Before either boy could say more, three huge rocks shot past in quick succession. A glint of a shield. Three loud clangs. Three more enemies hissing into dust. Suddenly the broadsword was back, slicing an opening clean through the toppling wall of stems.

“That’s our cue!” said the shorter boy, tugging on the sailor’s wrist and speeding out of their leafy prison. Heavy footfalls behind them meant that the rancher and captain were on their tails.

The party skidded to a halt just in time for the mysterious swordsman to start swinging again, and this time, he didn’t hold back. Just as the captain had used his chain, the swordsman swung his blade. The spinning momentum carried the heavy sword faster and faster, sending dirt and monster smoke flying in every direction. The stranger ended the attack as quickly as he’d begun, driving his mighty sword into the earth with a final, “HYAH!”

“Bombs! Bombs would be nice!” shouted the small hero with the cape.

The rancher fumbled to oblige, shooting several in quick succession the moment the swordsman stumbled from the battle. The force knocked them all back, and the five heroes raised their shields.

They waited.

And waited.

Nothing but sparkling rupees remained in the grass.

Several cheers rang out along the hillside as the heroes dusted themselves off. The sailor, drunk with adrenaline, stayed sprawled in the soft, cool grass, letting the breeze settle his racing heart. Now that was fun!

In the corner of his eye, he saw the captain jog over to the swordsman, who was leaning heavily on his weapon. The sailor sat up quickly. Oh no! Is he hurt?

The taller man held his head, muttering something about “getting too old for spin attacks,” and looking quite dizzy. The captain laughed. The young officer gave the man his shoulder, and together they walked back to the group.

The Hero of Wind couldn’t stop staring.

If the sailor thought the captain's armor was impressive, it was nothing compared to the gear adorning the stranger with the broadsword. The swordsman was tall, a seasoned knight, his gold and silver armor gleaming in the afternoon light. It was fearsome and powerful, like an ancient lion come to protect its clan. His face was marred from battle, one eye shuttered by a large, faded scar, but somehow... the sailor wasn't afraid. The man's other eye, bluer than the ocean itself, was warm. Youthful. It sparkled at the sailor as the man leaned down, offering his hand to the boy.

“Need a hand, son?”

The boy gripped his glove, dazedly letting himself be pulled to his feet. The man lifted him as if he weighed no more than a feather.

“Looks like you’ve got some fans, Old Man,” said the short boy with the cape.

The sailor glanced to his left, realizing what the other boy meant: he wasn’t the only one in awe of the warrior. The rancher’s eyes were locked on the man, blown wide with an odd expression the sailor couldn’t place. He’d gone a bit pale, too, if the dark markings standing out on his forehead were any indication.

“You… but how? You’re… you’re the…”

The rancher swayed, and the sailor caught his sleeve. The boy shared a worried glance with the captain, who moved slowly from the strange knight to the farmhand.

“Do you need a potion, soldier?” murmured the captain. The rancher shook his head.

From somewhere within, he must have found his conviction, for the rancher’s next words were so clear they ricocheted through the entire hillside:

“You’re the Hero of Time.”

The sailor felt like the ground had dropped out from under him. He snapped his head up to look again. It was him. The legendary hero. The symbol of hope and all things true and courageous.

The Hero of Time. THE Hero of Time!

This was the best freaking day of his life.

The sailor, the rancher, and now the captain stood frozen in place, hardly daring to breathe. Was this real? Time’s champion was joining their quest across the ages? Of course he was, it made perfect sense—but even so, the sailor’s face hurt from grinning so widely. The farmhand seemed ready to faint.

Curiously, it was the captain who moved first.

His feet slowly carried him forward until he stood face-to-face with the swordsman. His eyes studied the older man’s face desperately, as if he were scanning a map for some familiar landmark. Their blue eyes met. The captain gasped.

The Hero of Time raised a brow, his eye twinkling. “Hello Warriors.”

The captain stumbled backwards in a daze. “Surely not… surely it can’t be…” His hand ran through his golden hair, voice stuck between a laugh and a shriek. “Is it really you, Mask?”

The hero nodded, slowly. “And you owe me fifty rupees. I did, in fact, grow taller than you.”

The captain let out a strangled “HA!” and to everyone’s surprise, threw the other hero into a bone-crushing hug.

“You little goblin, you remembered that?” The captain took hold of his shoulders and held him at arm’s length. “Let me look at you—how long has it been, Mask? You’re practically a mountain!”

“I grew up,” he said. “It’s been… a while. A hard while, but right now, life is good. I can’t complain.”

“Goddesses, it’s only been two years,” the captain dragged his hand down his face.

“For you. Such is the curse of time travel, my friend.”

The rancher and sailor turned to each other, completely lost. What?

“Can’t help but feel I’ve been the tiniest bit left out.”

All eyes turned to the short boy, who now held an armful of the multicolored rupees from the grass. He’d put away the feathered cape while he’d been collecting, and now nothing obstructed their view of the four rich colors sewn into his tunic.

The Hero of Time laughed and patted his head. “What have you got there, Smithy?”

“Spoils of war,” the young man grinned, and began dishing out the glittering gemstones to the group. He looked oddly serious as he handed them to the heroes and muttered, “Don’t go wasting these, now” before flashing another sunny smile. “You know each other, then?” he asked the two knights.

“Back when he was knee-high to a fairy, sure,” said the captain. He pretended to wipe a tear. “They grow up so fast.”

The older hero barked out a laugh and smacked his friend on the back. “They didn’t give me this hero title for nothing, Captain.”

“No kidding!”

Vacantly, the rancher lowered himself back down into the grass.

The Hero of Time frowned at him. “Are you well, young man? What ails you?”

“I’m fine. I…” Something unspoken passed through the rancher’s eyes, but he blinked it away. “I just have so many questions…”

“Me too!” the sailor piped up, practically vibrating with excitement. “How do you know the captain? Why does he call you ‘Mask’? Hey, can we call you ‘Time’ instead, or does that sound too dumb? Did you make all the portals?”

“Sailor,” the captain chastised.

The older hero shook his head fondly. “That’s a long story for another day. But I will say this: ‘Mask’ was a simple nickname we created to tell me apart from Warriors—that’s what I called your captain, back in the day. Though I suppose ‘Time’ does have a nice ring to it... no offense to your naming skills, Wars. And no. I’m just here as a hero, the same as you. The portals were most certainly not my choice.”

The captain whistled. “You actually kept up with all that?”

‘Time’s’ expression softened. “Let’s just say I once knew someone with the same level of energy.”

“Spirits forbid they ever meet, then,” the rancher hummed.

“HEY!” the sailor shouted, drowned out by laughter. He couldn’t help but smile himself. At least he knew the farmhand would be ok now.

“So you’re a Link, too?” said the rancher, directing his attention to the boy in the colorful tunic.

 “I am. Hero of the Four Swords, they call me. The old man’s just been calling me ‘Smithy’ after where I work.”

“And it sounds like you three had the same idea,” Time added, gesturing to the sailor, rancher, and captain.

“I’m thinking of better names,” said the sailor, defensively.

Time laughed. “Then I await them with bated breath. But tell me, can I still call your captain ‘Warriors’?”

“Oh, yeah!” The boy sent the captain a cheeky grin. “He’s been called that way too many times. He’s totally stuck with it now.”

“Charming,” muttered the captain, not even looking the least bit offended. He offered a hand to the rancher and pulled him up again with a grin. Then he turned back to the Hero of Time.

“Well then. Any idea where we’re supposed to go next?” Warriors asked him. “That dream was delightfully vague.”

"Why are you asking me?" Time's eye twinkled. "I thought you were in charge here."

"Well, pardon me for trying to address your seniority, ahem, 'Old Man'."

Time huffed, casting his eye across the hills. A forest sprung from one side, lush with trees and animal sounds. A blanket of mountains sprawled across the opposite horizon.

"Do any of you happen to know where we are?" he asked finally. "Smithy and I don't recognize this land."

"'Fraid not," the rancher shook his head.

The sailor hopped in place. "Yeah, but uncharted lands are fun!"

"If we’re picking a direction, I vote we go for the woods," said the smithy. "Seems right to me."

Time nodded. "I've always been partial to them, myself. Very well. We'll take a vote. All in favor of taking the forest path, say—"

"RRRRROOOOUUURRRRRGGGGHHHH!"

Five pairs of eyes whipped to the mountains in the distance. A huge mace—wait, was that a tree?!?—swung into the air at the top of the path, taking half the hill with it. The weapon came to rest on the pale, drooping shoulder of a giant pig monster. It was a behemoth, as large, if not larger, than any dungeon boss the sailor had faced. It shook its ratty mane out of its single, bloodshot eye, and froze.

It had seen them.

"So...” blinked the smithy, “we could stay here and fight the giant angry monster, or..."

"Lets take the woods!"

"Woods!!!"

"I love the woods!"

"Woods it is!" shouted Time, notching an arrow and letting it fly straight into the monster's forehead. Which also happened to be its eye. Ouch.

"RUN!"

The sailor didn't need to be told twice. He laughed maniacally as his feet hit the dirt, pushing him onward with another spring of adrenaline. The angry roars ricocheted through the ground, nearly throwing him off balance, but he kept his footing. He and the four other heroes dove for the woods with all their might, smiles plastered to their faces as they raced together. It was a kind of glee only heroes of courage could understand, the thrill of living life on the edge, of feeling the wind through your hair and a soaring in your heart.

Giant enemies? No map or compass? Who cared? The sailor had a whole crew of legendary heroes at his side now.

Forget the monsters.

This was the best day of his life.

>>><<<

Masterlist | Chapter 2

Author's Note: Sky will be in the next chapter I promise! This story is a Links Meet but mostly centers around him. I just had to set up some things first... and give in to writing Wind as a gremlin because he gives me joy, haha.

Hope you enjoyed the start of this 12-chapter story! Feel free to drop a comment if you did!

Extra Note: I am a children’s book/family friendly author, so please keep all comments Safe For Work (no swearing please!) I want to do my best to make this a place for everyone. Cheers!

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WELL, I got the highest grade for my thesis and presentation, and a very nice review from my advisor that may or may not have made made me cry. Thank you guys for your patience and support, I feel like y'all played a major role in me staying motivated and not dropping out during that last year. Gotta figure out what to do next after 15 years of just studying... A terrifying thought but oh well

Now that I'm FREE and have some time for myself, I have a few practice shots planned, that's the first one! Wanted to work with perspective and depth, and let me tell you, those legs were a nightmare to draw. Also the apple was hanging from a thick branch originally but I wanted to spice it up so now there are LEAVES and MOVEMENT

Also I've found a toggle in tumblr settings that had been compressing my videos, so now everything's gonna be in full HD like it's SUPPOSED to be