#j writin

It’s late morning in Hateno, the nine swordsmen circling around Purah’s table in the tech lab.

“I need all of this by sundown. All of it, from all nine of you. It’s a matter of life and death.” Purah says, with utmost seriousness.

They take turns looking at the list of items, and looking at each other, as they pick and choose who’s bringing back what.

Wind peeks at it, sarcastically asking, “Yeah? So what happens if we’re late, we die?”

Purah fondly rolls her eyes, as she’s standing on the table so she’s taller than him. “Oh please, I’d bring you back.”

Wind’s eyes widen, smirking and calling her bluff. “Oh, so you can just give someone life after death?”

Warriors snorts, commenting as he stretches his arms. “Pfft. Life after death is as improbable as sex after marriage—oww!“ his sentence gets cut off by Time, giving him a glare, and Twilight swatting the captain in the back of the head, with the sailor laughing in the background.

So they all take their pick from Purah’s list, getting themselves ready for their challenge.

The door of Purah’s lab swings shut behind Wild, as he ambles past the warp circle, digging a pen out of his travel pack. He hears the soft creeeak…thump as the old heavy door opens and shuts again, the sound of old boots softly crunching gravel behind him.

“Sixteen potlids, huh…” the Rancher starts, in his easygoing drawl.

Wild looks up from scribbling his list of ‘Goron spice’ and ‘Chuchu jelly’ on the back of his hand, to glance at him. Wild gives him a look, knowing he’s about to say some choice shit. He hears the rancher continue, a teasing lilt to his words.

“…Do you even have that many in the population to—“

Wild cuts off the rancher’s words by swatting Twilight on the arm, “Oh shut up, go off and sniff some grass or something!” The champion retorts back, making him howl in laughter.

The champion swats him again, going for a playful kick in the calf, when Twilight catches him, ramming into his torso, arms gripping him and pushing, with the strength of his goats back home.

Their brief arm-swatting-turned-schoolyard sumo wrestling tussle gets cut off by the Veteran walking out of the lab next, squinting at the sun, and then them, before shaking his head as he keeps walking.

“What’d you have to get, Vet?” Twilight asks, still smiling as he follows Legend down the hill path, holding Wild’s head and neck in a chokehold under his arm, taking Wild with them down the road.

“Ah—uh. Three flint stones and one...luminous stone?” He trails off in his answer. “Purah was saying there’s a Talus by Ginner woods….wherever that is.” He finishes, brushing his pinkish hair out of his eyes, fixing his hat back on over his blond roots.

“Oh! Yeah! Ginner’s not even half a mile out the village, on your right, just go a bit past it, in the…north west-ish…direction. There’s a talus there…dunno if it’ll have luminous stone though. It might.”

Wild explains, through a slightly strained voice, still in Twilight’s chokehold, wriggling and pushing the bulkier man to his best efforts, to no success.

The veteran laughs at the sight, giggling as he walks down the path ahead of them, his Pegasus boots giving him the slightest bit of a faster stride.

Twilight finally lets go of Wild, yelling after Legend with “Don’t forget the Chuchu jelly!” getting a friendly middle finger in return, making his heart warm with the beloved jackass behavior.

Wild composes himself, checking his hand to make sure his list isn’t smudged, as he purposely steps on the back heel of Twilight’s boots as they walk downhill, getting one last shot in.

He fixes his long hair back into a loose tail, redoing his hair tie, as he speaks. “…Anyway. You should be able to find some good amount of lids here. If not, there’s most likely some at the monster camps outside town, or Kakariko’s like…not too far away, on four legs.” Wild advises, turning back at the lab, seeing the traveler and their blacksmith come out next, the traveler swinging a bucket in his hand, and Four tying his hair back, looking mildly perplexed.

They make it to the bottom of the hill, Wild getting an encouraging pat on the back from Twilight, before splitting ways.

Just a couple things to grab. Easy. Wild could do all this in his underwear, and only a rusty axe and a tree branch on him. In fact, he probably has.

Wild taps his fingers rhythmically on his thigh, idly and mindlessly alternating fingers in a fast tempo, as he laps around Hateno a couple times. He asks around about the merchant caravan, using his usual intel source of Nebb and Karin, though the two kids don’t know anything. He does get shown a cool iridescent worm that Karin found though.

He spends five minutes poking and playing around with the worm with the two kids before he remembers he actually has some responsible shit to do, and excuses himself, waving at them as he keeps walking.

Unfortunately, either the gossip circle at the laundry basin was wrong, or that merchant caravan from Eldin is quicker than he would’ve thought. The caravan isn’t here, and Pruce from the produce store didn’t get any spice.

The champion blows out a puff of air in frustration, leaning against the beam of the Hateno main gate.

He doesn’t have his slate, still being repaired by Purah. So he can’t just warp somewhere….

But it’s a risky gamble if any nearby merchants would even have Goron spice, this side of Hyrule….he may have to get it the hard way…

…Shit.

The champion does one last desperate search around Hateno, with the same results. He even digs through his shelves and cabinets in his house across the bridge, hoping to the three spirits that he’s not just wasting his time.

….He wasted his time, he found nothing.

Wild heads out of his house, locking his door, when Bolson calls out from his lounge spot by the cooking pot, lounging in the shade.

“Looking for Zelda, dear? I think she said she was traveling to the Domain for a few days, she left a day or so ago.” He says, his tone lilting and floaty, squinting at Wild under his eyeshadow.

Wild waves him off. “No Bolson, but thanks for letting me know why she wasn’t home. I’m actually looking for spice but we don’t have any.”

Bolson, quick as a whip, answers back as Wild starts to cross the bridge.

“Well you’ll have to talk to your lady about that—“

“What…?—wait—no! No, that’s— Bolson!” The champion sputters, caught off guard by Bolson’s teasing dirty joke, as the older man cackles, tilting back in his spot on the grass. The older man adjusts his position, waving him off as he continues lounging in the shade, as Link’s house has the best of it.  

Wild, red and flustered, speed walks his way back to Hateno’s main gate. He waves to Thadd as he exits, spotting Sky a bit away, peeking around a tree, looking at a beehive a few trees away, squinting like he’s going to snipe it. Or trying to mentally control the bees….Whichever, Wild has faith in him.

Wild’s getting his breathing ready to start the run to Eldin until he can grab a horse, when hears the faint sound of the earth falling apart, with tremors under his feet.

The veteran must have found the stone talus. He doesn’t hear cussing yet, but he does hear faint sounds of battle, so he figures Legend is okay. It’s not one of the senior taluses, or anything elemental, so it should be nothing more than a workout for him.

He sends a mental wish of luck to him, and gets moving.

The champion’s running at a good pace, controlling his breathing, wondering how he’ll get Goron spice in time before sundown. He stops before the monster fort camp near the hill, catching his breath.

He watches the moblins and bokoblins stalk around, some on some patrol path, others looking like their squabbling over a stack of boxes.

…Wait. Maybe…

Wild checks his shield’s condition. A little banged up, but it should work…if he gets it right on the first couple tries. His bow and arrows are sturdy on his back.

He takes a deep breath, and gets climbing up the near rock hill, staying out of sight of the camp.

He checks the sun, guessing the rough estimate of time. He faces the right way, seeing his shadow doesn’t point towards noon yet, so he’s not doing too terribly on time. He crouches, his eyes following the red moblin, as it circles and stalks closer…and closer…almost…

There. Now!

Wild takes one last breath, and sprints, drawing his shield. He gets good airtime, planting his feet on the straps of his shield, drawing his bow. It feels like time slows as he aims for contact on the Moblins left shoulder, pointing north-northwest.

Perfect.

He feels his boots and shield drop against the shoulder of the moblin, monster screams and snarls with indignance and offense as Wild gets bounced off.

The bounce gets him good airtime, sending him far as he reaches the highest he’ll get, snapping his paraglider open, the champion’s shoulders flaring in protest briefly as the fabric and wind resistance yanks and pulls.

He takes time to laugh like a madman, yelling “I still got it!!”  as he glides past Necluda towards Eldin.

Wild thankfully has enough energy today, and got enough height in the air to make it to Foothill stable, crashlanding and dragging his feet, faceplanting into the dirt. If he remembers right, there should be a Goron salesman, or someone around here carrying Goron spice…

He asks around and searches for about half an hour, sitting and resting a bit, drinking water. Today, it seems, the world must have it out for him. No one has any, after checking with Ozunda at the counter, then Beedle, then any poor traveling merchant unlucky enough to make eye contact with him. He probably sounds like he’s losing it, asking for Goron spice like it’s his lost child.

“Hey! Ozunda, anyone come by with Goron spice?”

“Nah, S.O.L buddy, I’d tell ya if I knew, though.”

The champion heads into the stable, towards the den area.

“Damn it…Beedle, any Goron spice?”

“No, my friend! Just arrows and fireproof horned lizards….you want your usual stock of arrows though?”

“Damn…no, I’m good, thanks though.”

“….Are. Are you sick…?....You don’t need more arrows…?” Beedle asks, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, silently calling his bluff, holding his bag open like he knows Wild is going to cave.

Then Beedle starts again, sounding nice, but with the vibe of a viper before it strikes.

“…You always need more arrows, Link…”

Wild buys more arrows, wiping the sweat from his brow and shaking off the chill from his spine.

He leaves up the Death Mountain trail, snagging a fireproof elixir with his remaining rupees, waiting until absolutely necessary to drink it.

An hour’s hike finds him hauling ass past the dismantled guardian remains up the trail, panting and sweating, already feeling the sunburn on his cheeks and back of his neck.

He gets to a stopping point, hands on his knees, trying to bring air into his dry throat, coughing as it’s almost too dry to swallow. Wild grimaces as he licks his lips, tasting sweat from above his upper lip.

He pops open the elixir, drinking it, hoping it’ll last long enough to get in, buy the Goron spice, and leave. Or combust into flames, whichever happens first.

He drinks it all, ignoring the texture, and ignoring the fact that multiple people, several times, have told him ‘Link, that’s a topical cream!’ or ‘Link, don’t drink it, it’s for your skin, I think it’s toxic to be consumed—‘

Haters, all of them. If it works, it works, he thinks.

He runs and hikes up the mountain pass, the next hour feeling like it’s being stretched out, and the heat making his body feel like it’s being pulled towards the earth. His steps getting harder and harder to pick up. He’s starting to fear that elixir wasn’t strong enough…

Finally, finally. He gets to Goron city.

Wild stumbles up the path, skin and clothing drenched in sweat, near falling onto the store counter, panting.

“Please….please….sell me something…Goron spice…”

The Goron merchant watches him for a second, his eyes wide like he’s witnessing something of terror. He grabs a scooper, filling a jar Wild hands him with the spice, as Wild sells a few chunks of rock salt and amber, to pay for the amount of spice sold by weight, along with having some rupees of his own after getting shaken down by Beedle. He buys two more fireproof elixers, downing one, and storing the other, checking the duration first. He heads back down the trail, heat-dazed, red-faced, and damp from sweat, his hair frizzy and partially undone from the gliding and running.

The champion dips his fingers into the hotspring nearby, to help tame and redo his hair, sighing as he still feels himself bake in the sun, but it’s more of a bask now, rather than feeling like someone buttered him up and threw him on a grill like a stalk of corn.

He’s ambling down the path when he snipes a Fire Chuchu with an arrow, for looking at him wrong. He almost leaves the remains be, when he remembers he needs Chu jelly as well, cussing and stomping as he scoops it into another jar. To add onto it, he isn’t careful enough and the jelly almost spills, flaring to burn his arm.

“Hhhsss---ooww—fuck!” He hisses, shutting the jar tight.

 If Purah has any issue with it being not plain, she can deal. It might even be cooler than what the others find.

It’s late in the afternoon, almost evening, as he gets back to Foothill stable. He takes out his fastest horse, a constantly antsy appaloosa mare. Her hooves are already trotting and kicking in place, waiting for Wild’s go ahead. He barely finishes his signal when she takes off down the road like lightning struck her, Wild holding onto the reigns, choking out a curse.

Thankfully, she doesn’t like following paths, similar to her rider, bolting through the Lanayru wetlands soon enough. And if Link didn’t know any better, he’d say she ran that Lizalfos over on purpose.

He pats her flank, hoping at least the others had an easier time getting their odd items on Purah’s scavenger hunt from hell.

Wild steers his horse into Hateno just in time, reigning in her manic energy, petting her and calming her as he guides her into the pen by his house. He fills the troughs, and triple locks the gate, only because he knows the horse won’t jump the fence, but she likes to try and kick the lock and break it out of spite, even if she doesn’t leave. His mood is lifted a bit after just being on his horse, and from the fact he was able to find what he needed, still technically before sundown.

Wild shuffles up the path of the tech lab, his boots crunching the dirt up the hill, sunburnt like a lobster, and the burn still stinging a bit on his arm. He runs into Legend and Four, walking with them into the lab tower, trickling in with the rest of the group.

Purah has them set their things down, the champion thunks down the Goron spice on the counter with a grin, and the jar of the red Chu jelly. He elbows Twilight in the ribs in good nature, seeing the full count of sixteen potlids. Though he does have to cover his snort when Twilight all but body slams a still living Chuchu out of his wolf pelt.

“What, did you make friends with it or something?”

“Oh shut up, you look like you cooked yourself and forgot the seasoning.”

“Yeah and you look like you got a nice right hook in the eye, did you try and flirt with it or—“

“Alright, alright, settle.” Purah hollers at them, going down her list of the rest of the items. Each one of them surrenders their burden, and piles the Chu jelly collection onto the lab table, on a collection tray to prevent any from rolling or spilling off.

Poor Sky and Hyrule look like they stung, soaked, rolled in leaves, and then steamed over a low heat. Wild decides not to ask. It’ll come up over dinner later.

The captain looks….oh Din have mercy is that goat sh—

“It’s mud.” Warriors says, bluntly, looking no one in the eye.

The old man looks like he fought a whole hen house. He probably did. Time places the egg, pristine, no cracks, gently onto the table, stepping back, shifting his weight, looking like he just moved a chess piece that would decide his life or death.

After all is said and done, Wild finds not only is his Sheikah Slate not even recalibrated yet, but their nonsensical scavenger hunt was just errands.

‘Just like old times’ All the Links think at once, thinking of their past sidequests on their respective journeys.

The champion looks to Purah, internally wanting nothing more than food, a bath, and a story of what the hell Hyrule and Sky were doing, when he speaks.

“…So what’s this all for? What’s important…?”

Purah looks up over her glasses, tinkering with his slate.

“Oh, I didn’t say? Impa’s visiting tomorrow.”

It takes every ounce of Wild’s willpower to not ask what in Farosh’s green earth what all this stuff is for in relation to Impa. He wants to. So badly.

A loud fwump is heard through the room, as Legend sits heavily on the ground, throwing his cap off and resting a short staff on his lap, looking like he just did an eight hour shift in a fighting ring.

All nine leave the lab, with a promise from Purah that the slate will be fixed before they have to leave, as they shuffle down the hill, to hopefully end their night.

It’s quiet, and peaceful, despite their appearances and general presence as they all stagger through the village.  The cool night air coming from Mount Lanayru, and the breeze from the coast of Hateno bay act as a soothing balm on their skins.

Until the sailor pipes up, in middle of their group.

It’s well past midnight, and Time is sitting at the dining table. The only other first floor occupants are Four, Wind, and Hyrule, who took over the couch in the living room after dinner, all three falling asleep halfway through a long trilogy they picked out. The noise of swords and dramatic background music flow into the kitchen, though not enough to distract from his work. He’s not sure what possessed him to bring his haunt of emails down here, the change in setting isn’t helping as much as he’d hoped. 

He feels a tension headache coming, briefly contemplating marking the email thread with Dark and Impa as Spam and drowning his laptop, when he hears footsteps shuffling down the stairs. 

It’s Wild, in an old torn concert shirt, sleeves cut off, with baggy jogger sweatpants, softening his footfalls as he heads in. Time tries not to smile at Wild being startled by the kitchen light being on, squinting his eyes like he just came out of a cave. Judging by the earphone cord hung around his neck, he probably did--no lights except from his laptop, most likely producing new mixes in the dark. His long hair is still damp and drying from his late shower after his club shift earlier in the night.

The boy throws a smile at Time, peeking at the forgotten movie playing, and turning back towards the cabinets by the pantry. Wild softly croons his next question in Time’s direction at the table, noticing the older man’s stress-disheveled hair as he gathers different supplies on the counter, wearing a lazy smile.