#linked keys

Too hot, too hot, too hot!

The thought was in Mask’s mind before he was even conscious, it forcing him awake. Sweat poured down his face in the midday sun, making him gasp for air. Despite just waking he felt faint, dizzy and nauseous as though the still world was instead rotating violently. His throat burnt in a desperate need for water, choking him slightly.

On instinct Mask reached for his water skin, only to find his hand trapped.

The horror woke him up a little more - what did he /mean/ midday sun, it had been dark when he went to bed! Dark and so cold that Paint had lent him his fire rod to try warm him up! And nobody would let him sleep so long! He felt a bit sick, yes, but it was probably just from not having had any water in so long.

And- And-

And his hand was trapped!

He tried to move, desperately squirming. Quickly he found that his legs and right arm were entirely trapped, as were his hips and left hand. Paint’s fire rod was still clasped tightly between his fingers, impossible to let go of as something pressed in.

That had been it, it really had, but somehow, in his struggling, Mask had managed to trap himself down to his left elbow below the… sandline?

Sandline.

Quicksand.

Oh… Oh no…

Mask wriggled more, desperately trying to escape. But the sand was just too strong - everything that went below the sandline was quickly trapped, able to be moved down but never up. In his desperation he only made things worse - he had turned somewhat to the side, his hips even deeper and his entire left arm had been trapped by the sand. While most of his torso remained free, part of it was trapped, a triangle carving out most of his tummy, but narrowing across his chest.

Breathing was tight, but enough of his ribs remained free that it was possible. Suddenly realising the possibilities, Mask fell entirely still.

If his ribs slipped further, it might not be an option.

The thought terrified him - the whole situation terrified him. Where was the chain - where was his /dad/? Surely they would not have left him here?

No, no, even panicked Mask knew the obvious solution; he had been taken.

But if he had been taken… That meant they would look for him.

Maybe not everyone, but Warriors would, right? Warriors was his dad, and his dad /always/ came for him. As soon as he was missing he always looked, and he always made it ookay.

So… It… It would be okay, right? Dad would be here soon.

That thought in mind, Mask lay back against the quicksand, trying to limit the dizzy feeling, and just focused on trying to breathe.

Dad would be here soon, and he would make it better. He always, always did.

---

Mask had been lying out on the sand for a long time. He hurt - everything hurt. Or, no, not everything; at some point he had lost sensation in his hands and his feet, anything deep in the sand. Everything else felt like agony, either crushed by the glooping sand, or burning hot.

The sun was lower now than before, but he did not feel any cooler - perhaps hotter, even. His exposed skin felt all crispy and sore, feeling more painful even than Shadow’s had looked, and there was no more sweat to calm it.

His pulse pounded in his ears, a reassurance his heart was beating at least, though it remained too hard to get air.

He was not sure how much longer he could wait; his dad would be coming, of course he would, but… But how much longer would he be?

Mask was hurting, and he was so, so, so scared.

“...Dad?” he tried to call, a dry sob breaking through his throat.

There was, of course, no answer.

---

More time passed, and Mask lost track of it. He was feeling even worse, barely able to think.

All he could comprehend was the fear and the pain, and the deep uncomfortable knowledge that something was very wrong.

His pulse still pounded, now deafening in his ears. His vision was turning black, and as much as Mask tried to fight, he could not.

Once, twice more he tried to call for his dad, but - even if anyone had been there to hear him - he could make no sound.

Unable to hang on longer, the child passed out.

Up above, the vultures swirled.

---

Mask awoke to his heartbeat and to agony.

He could not even focus on it before he slipped unconscious once again.

All he had time to do was vomit everything in his stomach into the quicksand, and scream on a raw, bleeding throat.

---

A vulture pecked at Mask’s face.

The sensation of being eaten was just enough to force him back to life. He could not even comprehend the pain, only able to huff a little in the bird’s face before immediately passing out again.

The bird pecked him again, strangely gently for he was not really a vulture, and, getting no response, flew away with a red, red fire rod between its claws.

---

___

---

It had been too long. Knowing this in his heart and his gut, Warriors returned to walking in a random direction.

“Warriors!” Ravio called, chasing behind him. “Where are you going? We need to wait for Sheerow to get back.”

“I’m not waiting for your bird while Mask might be dying!” Warriors did give Ravio the benefit of turning a little to him, hiding his sob in a yell as he began walking again.

And… It really had. Despite it already being early afternoon, no member of the group had been awake for more than a few hours. Like a button had been pressed all of them had awoken at once as the sun hit its zenith.

A quick headcount and it was obvious what had happened - Mask was missing, and the group had clearly been cursed.

But with so long having passed, who knew what state the boy was in? What sorts of things could have happened to him in the twelve hours - Warriors prayed it was only twelve hours, not days - that he had been missing, and then in the hours since.

The group had, of course, immediately split up, searching for any sign. There had been a little hope when Twilight had found a trail leading from camp, only for it to vanish into nothingness.

Portal. Or teleportation. Or maybe even taking a flight on a bird - it did not matter which, only that they did not even know which direction to go in.

And then Ravio had noticed that his bird was missing.

Warriors… Was really, really struggling to care, and it looked like some of the others were too. The only reason that they had agreed to stop at all was that Mask had been holding Paint’s missing fire rod last night, and Sheerow apparently could hunt it down.

The chances of Mask and the fire rod being close by… Meant it might give them a direction, which was better than aimlessly wandering, Warriors knew that, but waiting when Mask - his son - was in danger was an impossible task.

Warriors refused to let the frustrated tears fall, though it took a moment for him to get them under control; Ravio reached gently out to him, surely about to offer some sympathy.

In the same moment Paint’s fire rod fell from the sky, landing heavily in Ravio’s hands. He umphed a little he caught it, immediately looking up.

Sheerow divebombed Ravio, stopping just millimetres from his face and chirping rapidly. Ravio said something back in a series of clicks and whistles, only to get another reply. The conversation lasted a few moments, before Ravio turned, looking frantically around.

“Hyrule!” he settled on.

Their healer jolted in surprise, having returned to trying to find anything that might be of help in the mud.

“Sheerow… I can’t quite make sense of it all, but he says Mask’s hurt, and there’s no monsters or people nearby but it's dangerous? And the place is bad? I- I have directions for us, but… It might be best if you flew on ahead…?” He trailed off, looking at Warriors, before his eyes snapped back to Hyrule. “he’ll give you a ride! You don’t need to try remember directions yourself!”

Before Ravio had even quite finished, Hyrule had grabbed his bag, shoved in a few extra potions, and transformed himself.

Warriors was still processing the burst of information and flurry of activity when Hyrule flew up to and mounted the small bird, but the fact their healer was already headed to his son both worried him and soothed his fears in equal measure.

“This way,” Ravio called to everyone remaining. “The terrain is a bit tricky, though…”

Nobody objected to following along behind him.

---

When Ravio had said that the terrain would be a bit tricky, this was not quite what Warriors had expected. Hacking through undergrowth, yes, but being led out of the trees into a desert, then Legend halting the entire group with an urgent call of “quicksand!”? That had not been it.

The call also caused even more fear; according to Sheerow’s information… Dangerous but not monsters or people… And Mask was apparently close…

Desperate, Warriors squinted out across the quicksand. There were… some shapes around, but between the damp slush of the quicksand and the distance it was difficult to tell specifics.

“I see him!” Wind called, spyglass in hand. “I… Don’t think we can get there, though…”

Warriors held out his hand, and the spyglass was immediately placed into it. It did not take him very long to find Mask. His head was above the sand - thank the goddesses - but he was clearly unconscious. His skin burned an angry, blistered red, and his lips were slightly parted almost as though he had been struggling to breathe. At this distance… At this distance he could not see if he was. Fear seized his heart a moment before he noticed the soft glow of Hyrule’s magic being cast from somewhere tucked by Mask’s neck - if he wasn’t breathing, if his heart stopped, if he was /dead/, then Hyrule’s magic would not work. And there was no flickering in the light implying desperate but hopeless attempts, rather a steady glow.

Handing the spyglass back, Warriors felt the fear in his throat, and relief settle into the pit of his stomach.

“How do we get to them?” Minish was asking. “I can run on quicksand, but I can’t stop.”

It was more than Warriors could do.

The relief was crushed by more dread - even if Mask were still alive now, he might not be by the time we got there.

“If we find some big planks, we could build a floating bridge!” Wind suggested. “It’s what we do when the tides make quicksand on the island.”

“Too far,” Legend shook his head. “Maybe if we used it as a raft, but the wind is too still, and oars would get stuck.”

“I have some gust leaves!” Wild offered.

Most of the group began discussing the feasibility of putting a raft on quicksand, and how they could even make a sail - none of it sounded like a fast solution, only a possible one.

And then, after rooting around in his bag for a bit, Paint looked up. He squinting at the sand, and measuring something with his thumb. After a moment he nodded to himself, grabbing Warriors hand and beginning to drag him east.

“Paint?”

“I have an idea, but we need to get closer,” Paint continued tugging him, and Warriors began to run behind him. “And higher - there’s a cliff just this way.”

Warriors had no idea what Paint was talking about, but he sounded like he had a firmer idea of a plan than anyone else; Legend was abandoning the raft group to join them, though Sky had been left to supervise.

“Sand rod?” Ravio questioned, running a little slower and behind Legend.

“Sand rod,” Paint confirmed, patting his bag even as they ran.

Warriors was unsure what a sand rod was, but… It sounded like the most hope they had. If it failed, there was the raft plan, but that really was a stretch.

Trying to swallow his panic, he followed and he ran.

---

At the closest point between the cliff and Mask, they stopped. Paint let go of Warriors hand, pointing the yellow rod out across the quicksand. In a series of strange motions the sand began to rise, almost pulsating as the water slurped out of it. The very beach itself twisted and warped to accommodate, until a steady bridge led out across the quicksand. Still made of sand, but solid and dry.

Warriors did not stop to check that before he sprinted out onto the bridge; a few hundred metres and he collapsed to his knees at Mask's side. His son had been raised up alongside the sand, unconscious and still half buried. Panic in his throat Warriors began clawing at the sand; with every sweep some fell back in, making it hard to get any sort of grip on him.

"Warriors, you need to breathe."

In his panic, Warriors had entirely missed Hyrule; still in fairy form, their healer had tucked himself onto Mask's shoulder. A little magic flowed between them, though it was clear that Hyrule was pacing himself.

Nearly sobbing in relief to see the fairy there and already treating his son - of course he was, Warriors knew where Hyrule had gone, but seeing it was something else entirely - he none the less continued scraping at the sand.

Mask remained unconscious, and his face was covered in cracked and split burns, sand aggravating the injuries. His breathing was shallow and rapid - part of the boy's ribcage was below the sand line, and Warriors had no idea how much that accounted for it - and his heartbeat was just as fast. Not shallow, though, instead it pounded against scalding hot, dry skin. Warriors’ heart stopped for a moment, looking scared towards Hyrule; there was no good reason for a child to be so hot without sweat, nor their heart trying to escape their body.

"We need to get him to camp," Hyrule chimed as softly as a fairy could, face carefully blank. "Do you have a shovel?"

Warriors had been about to shake his head, when another figure - a little breathless - appeared behind him. Legend fell to his knees at Mask’s side, biting his lip as he dug through his bag. A moment later, he pulled out the requested shovel.

"I'll move the sand," Legend left no room for argument in his tone. "Warriors, grab him when I say. Rulie, can you-?"

Whatever that sentence was supposed to end with, Legend cut himself off with a glance at Warriors. Whatever he meant, it surely had to do with Mask’s condition, and something grim.

"I can," Hyrule's expression was not entirely confident, though his words were firm. And if there were one person in all the worlds whose words could be trusted, they were his.

Legend did not leave Warriors with time to question the pair; as soon as he had confirmation from Hyrule, Legend dug the shovel in close to Mask and used his weight to drag back the sand.

As soon as the blade of the shovel was keeping enough sand back, Warriors lurched forward. He grabbed Mask tightly, pulling him up, gathering the unresponsive child into his arms, and clung tight to him.

The glow from Hyrule's hands picked up, wrapping around Mask as the fairy frowned in concentration. After a moment he moved to land again in the crook of Mask’s neck, before bringing back the glow and continuing to channel life into the the hurting boy.

With only a moment to check that the extra passenger would not fall, Warriors stood up and hurried back across the sand bridge. Legend used his Pegasus boots to run on ahead, surely to brief the others; as Warriors jumped up onto the cliff, Paint lowered the rod. The sand bridge shuddered once more, collapsing back into the watery mess.

Warriors paid it no mind as he ran towards the camp.

---

___

---

It was dark when Mask woke up again. Dark and too bright both the same. Uncomfortable in every way, he tried to shuffle. Whatever was wrong caused pain to spike, and he could not help but moan.

“It’s okay,” a hand stroked over his hair. “You’re safe now, Sprite, I’ve got you safe.”

… Dad?

Hearing the voice, Mask did his best to approach the surface of his brain and open his eyes. Everything was still a bit hazy, but the fear and the deep need to see his dad remained.

Struggling against his body he cracked open his eyes, finding the tense form of Warriors resting him on his lap.

"Dad?" He whispered, lips cracking as he did. Everything about speaking hurt his throat and face, so he stopped.

"Mask!" Warriors seemed almost to drop, bending low over Mask as he stroked his hair and squeezed his hand. "Oh thank the goddesses. It's okay now, it's all going to be okay, I'm here now."

Weak and in pain, Mask whined pitifully, trying to convince his dad to hug him. His head hurt and his legs hurt and his everything hurt, and he just wanted everything to stop.

"I'm sorry," and Warriors really did look it, reaching out to stroke his face rather than pick him up. "Could you drink something for me? It tastes bad, but I promise it'll help."

Not wanting to speak again, Mask gave a tiny nod - making his head pound as he did so. He whimpered at the pain, trying to reach up with grabby hands - only to find his arms immobilised.

"Shhh, you'll be okay," Warriors did not sound entirely confident as he slipped behind Mask, raising his head to his lap as he pulled over a bottle. "I know it hurts, I know, I know, but it'll be over soon. Just drink this for me?"

Trying to comply - there was only one person in all the world that Mask trusted completely, but that person was Warriors - Mask opened up his lips. Warriors brought the bottle to him, gently pouring it into his mouth.

For a moment all was fine, and then the taste hit.

Potions he had long agreed were disgusting, but this? It tasted like someone had dumped a salt shaker into the bottle, then tried to use sugar and apple juice to hide it. It was not even badly cooked, it just never could have ever tasted good in the first place.

Despite the pain it caused, Mask crinkled up his nose in disgust.

The action earnt him a watery laugh from Warriors, but no release from the liquid - another sip's worth poured in each time he swallows.

"Yeah, it's not nice," Warriors agreed. "But I promise it'll help - after this you can have a potion, then if you drink some more of this after I'll let Legend take you out for more ice cream once you're feeling better."

More ice cream?

As much as the bribe was meant to make Mask comply, he knew how scared his dad had to be to offer that, and whatever scared Warriors had to be very scary. More worried now, Mask looked around; everyone else seemed... Fine? There were no other bandages and no other visible injuries, though Four was looking a bit sick and Hyrule was clearly sleeping off the worst of some magic exhaustion.

Still... If the fear was about him...

Mask let Warriors give him more of the gross water. He refused to stop pouting about it, but he still took it willingly.

Next to the gross water, the potion he was given after was almost, almost /tasty/.

Definitely still nasty, but not as gross as appley gross water.

And then came another bottle of the novel concoction.

The process of drinking three bottles was painstakingly slow, Warriors very careful to let Mask do no more than sip at them. By the time he had finished, however, the pounding headache had lessened to a dull ache, and it felt a little less like his skin had shrivelled up.

Then came some very familiar looking cream. Not because Mask had had to use it much before, no, but because Shadow was constantly using it.

From the one time he had had sunburn before, however, Mask did know just how badly it would sting.

"Just let me put this on, then we can cuddle," Warriors promised. "Once the potion has taken effect it should be safe… Just make sure to drink a lot, okay?."

Mask did not want to sting, especially not with everything hurting already, but he did want cuddles...

Still unhappy he let Warriors smear the cream all over his face and ears and neck. Trying to deal with the discomfort, he went to wriggle his toes.

Only to find that they would not move.

In a panic he looked down to see his lower body entirely bandaged up, presumably tight enough that he could not wriggle. With a lot of effort he managed to shift a knee, but it took far, far too much effort.

He remembered the pain, and then the way all sensation in his legs had cut out. That was bad, wasn't it? Stopping feeling your legs, that... that was when they stopped forever, wasn't it? What would he do without his legs? The group was travelling, and even if not, how would he manage to-

"Mask!" Warriors voice cut into the fear. "Mask, Mask, its going to be okay. The sand hurt them, but they will heal, I /promise/; Hyrule promised me, I promise you. You'll be alright, you just need to heal. Just need to drink and rest and heal, I promise."

That... If... If Warriors promised? Warriors wouldn't lie to him, not about this, right?

"I /promise/ you," Warriors repeated, leaning down so that Mask could see the sincerity in his expression.

"Promise?"

The word slipped out without permission.

Warriors nodded, a whispered 'yes' on his tongue as he scooped Mask into his arms, and cradled him to his chest.

Mask did his best to wriggle closer, not caring for a little more pain so long as his dad was close.

"It's alright to be scared," he whispered. "Like this... Its /sensible/ to be scared. But you'll be okay - Hyrule just needs to rest, and he can fix more of it. We found you, we've got you, we'll always find you... I'll always find you."

Mask tucked himself away in the strong arms, trying not to think of the ordeal of the past day. Instead he curled up in his father's arms, listening to the promises.

"... How did you find me?" Mask whispered.

Warriors clung a little tighter, nodding into Mask's hair, "Ravio's little birdy found you, and told him how to get to you. Paint has an item that stopped the sand from hurting us while we got to you, Hyrule flew out to keep you safe, Legend helped me dig you out... Wild made the water solution from Hyrule's recipe for you, too. Did his best to make it less gross - and /everyone/ was looking. Everyone."

Mask would remember and thank them later, but for now... "You came?"

"Of course I came," Warriors hugged a little tighter. "Nothing - nobody - can stop me coming for you, Mask; I love you. I'll always come. I'm just... I'm so sorry it took so long."

"But you came."

It did not matter how long Warriors had taken, not really - he had gotten there in time. Mask was hurt and scared and shaken, but... Warriors had come for him.

His /Dad/ had come for him.