ViDoesStuff

Time woke on the cold stone floor. Alone.

This was wrong.

He should be…well, not here?

Where was here?

He and the others had been… They’d been, where? Doing what? Only a blank space sat in his mind instead of a recall. Something had happened. He just couldn’t quite remember… what.

He needed to get back to his boys.

Though a headache pounded away at his skull, Time pushed himself into a sitting position. Each of his limbs felt heavy and his joints stiff, as if he had been on the hard ground for quite a while. Perhaps he had.

Something behind him gave off a soft enough blue glow. His vision swam when he tried to look over his shoulder to see what it was. A question for later. But for now, it was enough illumination to make out his surroundings. He sat in the middle of a large, decorated stone chamber; odd symbols and swirls covered the entirety of the walls and ceiling. The floor was not without its intricacies, however, with stones that made up a larger artwork that reminded him of the composition of stained glass.

The only object of note was a well-crafted mirror that sat against the wall in front of him. Elegant metalwork made up its frame. Even though it looked as if without dust or wear, he could hardly make out the reflection it showed. The glass was as if covered by fog. How strange.

When his mind finally stopped the worst of its spinning, he finally looked behind to see where the soft light was coming from, only to see…

The Master Sword.

It lay in the true center of the room, unsheathed and unblemished. It didn’t even look as worn as it did the day he pulled it from its pedestal at ten years old, unaware of the burden that would be placed on him. The allure and shine of the blade itself told that this was Sky’s blade. Newly forged and well-cared for. What was it doing here? Never would Sky choose to leave it like this.

A sharper worry ran through his chest. Had there been a fight in this room? He didn’t know. And that scared him.

Furthermore, there seemed to be no way out of the chamber. No corridors, no hallways. He was trapped. Trapped with nothing but a mirror and that accursed sword.

As much as he hated to admit it, this place felt too eerily similar to the Temple of Time.

He could wait it out and see if something happened. Surely there had to be a sort of entrance if he had ended up here. But he did not know if time was on his side. It usually wasn’t. Regardless, he would not touch the sword. So he decided he might mess around with the only other object he could; the mirror without a true reflection.

From his spot on the floor, he could sense an underlying sort of magic hanging over it like a sheet. Perhaps pulling it away like one would bring an answer to his questions.

Time got all the way to his feet. His head still pounded in time with his heartbeat, but it was not as bad as before. The mirror sat menacingly, somehow.

Yet, he still moved toward it. Whoever had crafted it had done so with great care. And whoever had set the magic had done so with precision. Even though he’d grown up around magic, he had only caught the vestiges of it because he had been looking. He reached out, trying to focus on it.

The moment his fingers touched the glass, the fog cleared, and a face appeared on the other side, looking straight at him.

A young man. A boy.

A Hero. A child.

Time saw himself, in a body too big and too old, scared and alone. He quickly pulled away, looking down at himself only to find the familiar golden armor, hands calloused from the ranch instead of a sword, and exactly the way he was supposed to be. Still lacking the depth perception that missing an eye. Still sore from being an ‘old man’ sleeping on the ground. “What?”

A look back up at the mirror had not changed the reflection that it showed. A young Link still stood on the other side of the mirror, slowly scanning him up and down. Eyes young and curious.

“You’re… me.” Little Link said slowly.

Was this an illusion? A trick?

“I never thought I would… get old.” The boy continued, almost with confusion at the end of his sentence.

That broke a chuckle out of Time, perhaps a bit maniacal, but nonetheless with some amusement. This must’ve been himself just before the 7-year sleep. The weight of the world not having fully rested upon him yet. “You always would have, young one. Even though you will have to be out of place for a time.”

Link frowned at his words. He stepped back. “Sorry. But I don’t think, um, I’m not supposed to… I shouldn’t be here.”

Time raised his hands in a quick surrender. “I do not mean to startle you, though I’m sure this is confusing. It is for me as well. I’m not sure how you’re here, but do not grow dismayed. There is a future ahead of you.”

“You’re not….” Young Link further insisted, seeming to grow frustrated. “You’re not me.

“Not yet. I would hate to lie to you, or to trick you-”

“No, you don’t understand. You can't be me. I don’t get to grow old because I’m supposed to be dead!”

Time blinked. Another veil fell away.

In the place of young Link stood a teen covered in blood- drenched in the crimson as if it had fallen from the sky itself. His torso was torn open to reveal the viscera underneath, hanging onto flesh that was sickly pale and dying. An eye, the same Time had lost, was freshly gouged out, leaving nothing but an empty, bloody socket. Beneath ivory ribs sat a heart that did not beat. Lungs that did not breathe. There was not a single unblemished mark on his skin that still held life.

Other than the remaining eye that stared intently at him.

Time found himself unable to speak.

“Now do you understand?” The teen said quietly, his voice ragged and rough in a way that morbidly reminded him of Wild, throat long-torn and scarred. “I’m the one who failed.”

Failed.

The word finally made some things click.

The timeline they had figured out was: Sky first, then Four, then Time. But that was where their timeline got confusing, and they had given up trying to figure it out. Legend spoke of the Hero before him as the one who failed, who died, and left their world in a ruined state. Unlike Wind, who said the Hero disappeared, not that he failed; though that he was Time himself. And further unlike Twilight, whom he knew to be his descendant, whose Hero was also somehow Time. Warriors came later, since he knew of most of them, and Wild was somewhere. Possibly even near the end due to his time’s ‘technological’ advancements.

They could never quite pin down who the Hero before Legend and Hyrule was. After all, none of them knew a Hero who had died (Wild thought it might have been himself, but they couldn’t make that connection well enough to stand), and the rest of the Heroes all hoped it wasn’t them.

But if the teen in front of him, who was also him, was the one who failed… It opened the possibility that his time travel had split in many directions. One where a young child, forced into a body much too old for him, unaware of the truth of the world… did not succeed against Ganon. Did not grow up. And left the world for its next Hero. For a 10-year-old Legend.

This was a version of him who died.

That was a horrifying thought.

“...Sorry.” Link said quietly. His voice was once again soft.

Time looked back at the mirror to still see the teenager, although now without injury. His green clothes were spotless. Both eyes stared at his boots.

“Though I’m glad that another me got to grow up properly.”

He wasn’t sure what to say. Or what he could say, given everything. “I am sorry you had to meet with such a terrible fate.”

Link bit his lip. Something Time still did when he was anxious. “You talk kinda funny.”

“I suppose it happens when you grow up.” Was that insensitive? Maybe. He wasn’t sure.

“I don’t think I ever cared to grow up. I just wanted to go home. But I know you do too, at least back to the others, right?”

Home. The meaning of the word had changed so much since the start of his adventure. The Forest had been home. When all he needed and knew lay within: the Great Deku Tree, Saria, and the other Kokiri. Then the Deku Tree died, and he was told to follow his destiny. After that, it was hard to pin down where a home might be. Getting thrown forward in time and then back again, falling into Termina and the entirety of that world, to not quite having a place. Not until he met Malon again.

Because of her, Time finally had a place to call home: Lon Lon Ranch, by her side.

Right now, the only home Link had was the memory of one; a concept.

The boy did not comment on Time’s silence. When everything else had failed in his life, sometimes silence was all he had to hold onto. Instead, he leaned close to his side of the mirror. “All you have to do is break the mirror. Then you can go back to them.”

“What will that do to you?”

Link shrugged weakly. “That’s just what she told me.”

“Who told you?”

“Her.” His gaze lifted to a spot above Time’s shoulder. A different blue filled the chamber. The sound of chimes akin to bells followed, if bells could ever sound so distorted and odd, that is.

Whatever it was, Time spun to meet it, hand falling to the hilt of the weapon that wasn’t there.

Rising from the center of the chamber, from the Master Sword, rose a spirit. She was otherworldly in appearance, levitating into the air until she was several inches above the ground.

Instantly, he knew who it was. How could he not? Sky always spoke of the Spirit in the sword. Even Warriors could attest to having met the Spirit during the War, though Time had never seen hair nor hide of such an entity during it. Certainly not one bright and loud as this one.

They bowed gracefully, as a dancer or performer might before putting on a show. When they spoke, the words were strange and garbled, yet he could understand perfectly. “Greetings to you, Master Link, it is a pleasure to finally speak to you. My given name is-”

“I do not wish to speak with you, for I have nothing courteous to say.” Time cut off; he was not doing this. Perhaps like a child, he turned from her and faced the mirror once more. “Breaking the mirror will bring me back to the boys?”

Link was nearly pressed up against the glass, back in his 10-year-old form. “Please just talk to her?”

“That Sword is a curse; if I do not have to interact with it, then I will not.” The Spirit chimed behind him.

“No, she’s not. She’s my friend, like Navi was.”

“Why do you defend it? Pulling it from its pedestal brought nothing but a world of troubles… It led you to your death.”

“She tried protecting me!” The boy bit his lip again. “I failed because I wasn’t strong enough. Please don’t blame her for that.”

Time drew further from the Spirit. Still dressed in his golden armor, it would be easy enough to break the glass and get all this over with. The only thing stopping him from doing so was the boy that both was and was not him. He did not deserve his potential last moments in this plane of existence to end like this. Call him soft, but a child’s lament would be a cry heard even among the deaf. “She did nothing that we could not have done ourselves. You are strong, Link. The evil you fought would only have been sealed again for a time, as he rose again whenever the Hero’s Spirit was reborn. One day, he will be done away with for good, though I do not know when that will come to pass. Do not hold yourself to such an unreachable standard.”

“But you did it! It was only unreachable for me.”

“We are the same, are we not? Our strengths. Our weaknesses. A failure from one of us secured the future of two of our Heroes, as I’m sure you know. There was life in the destruction. I cannot say why fate chose you to fall rather than me. But I do know it all began because of that acursed sword.”

A blink. Link was the teen once again. “It’s not her fault.”

“How can a thorn be the downfall of a lion? Or a spark be the conception of a fire that burns a forest to ash? I care little for the excuses that attempt to sweeten the harshness of truth, nor do I desire to hear them.”

“She doesn’t have excuses; she has answers. I’m glad I don’t have to become as grumpy like you. If you listen to her for just one minute, I’ll let it go. So… let her talk. Please.”

Time could not find it in himself to debate further. “Speak, Spirit. The young one has fought well enough to give you a moment to do so. But answer me this: Why was all the suffering necessary?”

The Spirit gazed at him with terribly uncanny blank eyes. Slowly rising up and down almost like a breath. Then she spoke, “My sole purpose was to guide the Hero of the Skies; then I was put to rest, lying dormant until the next Hero arose. When you released me from my pedestal, it was not my decision to send you to your sleep.” Her tone changed, ever so slightly as she added, “All is as Hylia wills it.”

Time twitched, but allowed her to continue.

“I regret that I was unable to take action in your time of need. It was my every intention to assist you during your journey, as I had done for the Hero before you.” She turned to address young Link. “As with you as well. The probability of your victory would have increased by… increased greatly, had I been able to assist you. Although we have since discussed this.” Fi looked back at Time. “I understand your hatred. I only wish to illuminate the reasoning behind the events in your past.”

Time tore from her gaze, instead once again taking in the beauty of the prison he stood trapped in. “If that is truly the case,” He had to pause to find his words, “Then I am sorry for the resentment toward you. I cannot say how quickly things will change. There is much for me to think over. Still many to blame.”

“That is all I have to ask, Hero of Time.”

Quiet followed, only broken by the sound of his breaths. He supposed the other two didn’t breathe anymore.

“I must be going. Worry for the others will drive me mad, more so than I might already be, if I cannot reunite with them soon.” Right now, this was too much to handle. All he really wanted to do was go run some monsters through. “Do either of you object?”

The Spirit spoke first. “I do not. Have luck on your journey.”

“Perhaps we will meet again.”

“Improbable. However, possible. Give the Hero of Skies my greetings.” With that, she faded into a little light that returned to the Master Sword, giving it back its azure glow. Time picked it up slowly, wishing for the sheath so he did not have to truly hold onto it. Old habits die hard, regardless of whether they were truly dead or not.

She hummed in his hands.

“And you, young one? Anything you wish to say before departing?”

Link made a face. “Stop being so grumpy. I don’t like how your face looks when you mope.”

“I will try.” Time let himself smile the smallest bit. “These boys make it much easier to smile on this journey every once in a while. I do believe you would like them.”

“I believe I do. We’re the same, remember?”

He hovered near. “I truly do wish you a peaceful rest after all of this. It is the very least that you deserve.”

Having been married for years, Malon was not shy in showing any kind of love or affection to her husband.

They were very touchy and playful, often compared to newlyweds due to it. In public was a little bit of a different story, less physical affection and more overall closeness. Maybe pet names. Teasing, and all of that.

But for some reason, all these boys made every little thing feel such a big deal. Not that she was at all embarrassed of her husband, by any means, she loved her Fairy Boy; she would just rather… dote on him far from the young little eyes. Maybe it was their reactions. A little kiss on the cheek from Link was met with cheering or whooping from those present. They were all hopeless romantics, it seemed.

So, when Link gave her ‘that look’ as he stood outside their kitchen window, Malon just wanted to run into his arms. But… not here. Even though Wild was the only one in the house.

Malon filled her pitcher from the well water someone had brought in this morning. She was very grateful for all of these boys; each one so eager to work and serve. It was truly a blessing to be able to house and accommodate them whenever they returned to her, and she was sure they also did not mind the almost normal, slow days at the ranch.

“Hon, do you mind if I step out for a little bit?”

Wild, who used to be her ‘helper’ but was now the head chef of the house, spun around to face her, flour streaked across his face. He helped to bring some new variety to her kitchen, especially with all the new ingredients he magicked out of that slate of his. Now, Malon usually only helped with cutting up the vegetables and stirring the pot.

And just like she thought, Wild waved her off with a smile, “Yup yup, go run off with that Old Man of yours.”

She was not blushing as she scooped a handful of sugar into the pitcher. Was not. “Thank you.”

“Of course Missus Malon. Lunch will be ready here in a few.”

Then Malon was out the door.

She barely made it past the porch steps before Link ran up and scooped her off the ground, spinning her around with a hearty laugh. Malon shrieked, half in surprise and half due to the water that tipped over onto the both of them.

One of the boys, she couldn’t be sure which one, whistled at the two of them.

Link was only encouraged by this, and planted a big sloppy kiss on her cheek. Though evidently ‘caught in the act,’ Malon couldn’t help but start laughing too. She reveled in it for a bit longer before she pulled away.

Though nearly half of the pitcher’s contents now soaked the front of their shirts, it would be plenty enough for now.

So, they wordlessly walked together to their little fairy pool.

Though it was never quite the same time of day whenever they refilled the water, the fairies always seemed to know. She could already see a half-dozen lights through the branches that obscured the little table behind. Wonderful bells filled the air.

But unlike the usual, a few of the fairies scampered off as Link pulled away the foliage. A quick ring of mischievous laughter followed. She saw two little figures duck behind the sugar bowl. Well, if the fairies weren’t worried, neither was she. The remainder of fairies flocked to Link, nuzzling against his cheek and diving into his hair with exclamations of joy.

Two flew over to her after a quick stop by Link. One flitted around her while the other brushed against the tip of her nose. Then the first nearly dove into her pitcher, excited for fresh sugar water. She pulled it closer to herself and covered the top with her hand. Be patient.

The fairy did not back off until she topped off the bowl.

Her husband’s laughs died down as the fairies began settling on top of him, resting on his shoulders and head. Even covered in some of the sugar water herself, they never showed her quite the same amount of adoration. It was instinct to stay clear of Hylians, and the like. Even being as close as she was, was a blessing of itself. Her Fairy Boy was one of a kind.

However, she couldn’t help but think… No Navi.

After all this time, the idea of seeing the fairy had become more of a lovely dream than a true hope for her husband. It would be truly amazing. But Link had moved on, as he should.

The fairies eventually got over the excitement of her husband, and all flocked to the sugar bowl; always best fresh, after all. That was their cue to leave them to their own devices.

Malon rested a hand on her husband’s arm, “I’ll meet you there in a moment.”

They parted with a quick kiss. Link left.

She waited until he disappeared inside the house. Then-

“Well, I did tell you boys that I can keep a couple secrets. Do I get the privilege to see how y’all are doing that?”

Only a few seconds after that, a little mouse creature stepped out from behind the bowl. Tugging behind it a blue fairy. Malon’s heart jumped for a moment before realizing that the fairy was actually one of her boys. Hyrule could turn into a fairy! Then that meant that tiny mouse must’ve been another one of them.

She had assumed that maybe one of them would be able to shrink, not that two of them could change into different creatures. Then again, she had heard the extent of her husband’s journeys, and how truly bizarre they could be. Had another told her the same when she was younger, she would’ve dismissed them as outlandish stories. Nothing more. But she knew now just how much one of Hylia’s chosen ones could go through. These little abilities of theirs could very well have saved their lives during those adventures.

So yes, a little strange.

A little outlandish, maybe.

Ultimately, very wonderful in some kind of way.

For the first time in weeks, Hyrule was able to get away from the others.

Magic spun and sung all around him until he was able to chime back in his first tongue. It had been too long since he could spread his winds and truly allow his inner caverns of magic to replenish. His fairy form helped him feel much more satiated than in his hylian one.

The abundance of magic is what made his kind glow, after all.

His shimmering blue-green wings stretched out behind him, happy to be free and present.

He settled on the edge of the flower’s petal, breathing in its scent. The flower was smooth like velvet and deep orange like a sunset. It seemed much more delicate than the flora he was used to; perhaps due to the world (Time’s) it was able to bloom in. No poisonous waters. Or long bouts of drought. No soil too rocky and barren to ensure only the strong survived.

If not for the urgency of their journey, Hyrule would just spend all his time exploring all these new worlds. The flora was very much appreciated. Especially at this size.

After a little longer, Hyrule decided he had been still long enough. He sat forward, stretching out his back and shoulders, then popping his knuckles because he could. His wings flared out and ready to take flight- Then, he heard it.

Footfalls. The movement of foliage. A hylian. Hyrule tumbled back into the center of the flower.

Someone, although with a degree of silent grace that ruled out half of their numbers, was coming toward him.

Of course the first time he was brave enough to transform, he was going to get caught.

He held still and did his best to dim his light. The others were great with fairies, nice and gentle. But Hyrule really didn’t want to have to explain himself once they figured out it was him caught in a bottle. This was one of the few secrets he still held tightly to his chest; it was just such an integral part of himself that had never gone well once revealed.

Well, whoever it was walked right past him. Hyrule released the breath he’d held.

The he peeked over the edge of one of the petals,

Four’s retreating figure pushed through the fauna that nearly reached his chin. He was focused straight ahead as if knowing exactly where he was going. And maybe he did, the Smith was among the few who simply disappeared from time to time. Especially in places they had visited before, like the Ranch.

Hyrule followed, curious, making sure to keep his light from shining too bright and his chimes from ringing too loudly.

Was there some other cool stuff at Lon Lon Ranch? Again, he hadn’t really been beyond the pasture, and certainly not this deep in the woods beyond before now.

After only a minute or so of following him from a distance, Four’s head (and presumably the rest of him) simply vanished.

Gone. As if fallen down a hole. Hyrule hovered closer near the spot Four had disappeared.

But instead of his friend, there was a little creature, it stumbled forward, taking a moment before regaining its balance. It then quickly climbed down from the stump it had been on, skittering, in every sense of the word. Then it looked around. It was some kind of rodent looking thing, perhaps akin to a mouse or a vole, with paws for hands and feet, and a feathery red and white tail. As apparel, it wore a green poncho of sorts, stitched together with vibrant leaves and decorated with stones and bands of metal; atop its head was a braided headband woven from grass. The clothes reminded him of what a forest fairy would fashion, though the creature wore it much more modestly and with layers to keep the heat, making it impractical for flying.

Bound on its back was the sheath of a sword. Even still, it looked relatively harmless. Not helpless. It was truly a tiny thing, smaller still than Hyrule himself right now.

Hyrule just wanted to keep an eye out for it. But, he had to figure out where Four had gone off to, and if he was alright. He threw a glance at the creature one last-

Then he saw a familiar feathered earring and all the pieces came together.

“Four?!”

The creature, who was actually Four, jumped back in surprise. He looked up in confusion before meeting Hyrule’s gaze. “Hyrule? You can transform into a fairy?”

…Oh. He already forgot about that part, hadn’t he? Well, a secret for a secret, he supposed.

Four had an odd expression on his face, even for a rodent-thing, “Oh, do you need me to uh, to change back?”

“What?” Hyrule landed on the ground in front of him.

“Well I did assume this was still part of Fairy Claim, but I found the right kind of stump last time we were here and wanted to explore around. I don’t mean to encroach.”

“Um… No? You’re fine, I wasn’t planning on shooing you off or anything.” Hyrule said hurriedly. Four was tiny. Hyrule was tiny. Now he really wanted to hang out as tiny buddies, why was Four being like this? “I don’t think the native fairies would mind either, though I haven’t really met them yet. We could go together?”

The mousey Four frowned, “Wait, you do realize that I’m a Minish, right?”

Hyrule simply furrowed his brows.

Four’s nose twitched, making him realize that he had little black and white whiskers. Okay, Hyrule was never one to think of either Wind or Four as cute, but this little version of the Smith was absolutely adorable.

“A Picori?” Four tried again, “You know, the race that fairies never really get along with? I know they aren’t very well known in other timelines, but there’s a small population around here?”

“I’ve never heard of such a creature.”

“Well, neither Wind or Twilight knew them either. I shouldn’t be all too surprised.”

Hyrule’s wings fluttered. “They don’t mix well with fairies? Why’s that?”

“I couldn’t say. Maybe just bad blood from a millennium past. Regardless, the Fairies especially have become very territorial in my time; I found that out the hard way during one of my adventures.”

“Well I don’t mind you, if you don’t mind being around me. I think we still could explore, it’s always funner with two adventurers than just one. And I don’t sense any kind of Claim here. Lon Lon Ranch seems to be unmarked. So you're free to roam, regardless of whether the fairies will mind you or not.”

Minish Four’s face brightened. “I mean if you’re absolutely sure? I’ve kinda always wanted to see… a Fairy Coven? Of course, I'm usually much too big to try poking around anyway. And as a Minish, I’ve never dared get close.”

“Yes! I’d love to take you. There shouldn’t be a problem if you stick close. As long as there’s one around here, that is. My kin are friendly towards most other creatures, it’s strange that there’s been any animosity with yours.”

“That would be amazing, thank you, Rulie.”

“Of course. Anyone up for an adventure is a friend of mine.”

“And maybe next time I’ll take you to the Minish village further in.”

Hyrule smiled, “I’d love that.” Especially if he could see more of the little mice people. Were they all as small as Four? Or was he still on the shorter side when it came to the Minish? Regardless, it would be a great little bit of fun.

“You should even be able to see them when you’re back to Hylian-size.”

“Haha, you’re not that small.”

“Oh, I just mean since most people can’t see them anyways.”

After nearly a millennium of peace, Ganondorf rises once again. And the land is thrown into chaos.

The Champions stand against it all.

And fall.

The Hero defends the Princess with dying breath. But it’s not enough.

There is no rest for Hylia’s Chosen.

He wakes in the Shrine of Resurrection, knowing nothing. Carrying the fate of everything. A piece of him mourns. 

The name the Princess calls him does not feel like it fits. There is no Link. Not anymore. All that remains is whatever he is now. 

“Remember,” she says. Though there was nothing before.

Monsters roam the plateau. He finds a tree branch on the ground. Muscle memory takes over after 100 years to block a club.

But a branch is not a sword.

Link, or whatever equivalent he is supposed to be, is bludgeoned to death. His life was sad and short. 

Well, until it’s not.

⋟❋⋞

He wakes again in the glowing blue pool.

The Princess calls out to him.

He is relieved to find out he hasn’t been sleeping for another 100 years. 

This time, he chooses the pot lid over the stick. He does not engage the monsters. Not while he only wears rags instead of armor.

An old man greets him. Would have been nice to know the first time.

Four shrines lie awaiting him. The first is simple. The second is less so.

It’s the third that gets him.

It’s cold, cold, cold. The snow on the ground is not a friend. He climbs. His fingers hurt; they lock up.

The hold on the rocks shifts, then loosen.

He falls, and his body is dashed upon the rocks below.

⋟❋⋞

He saves that shrine for last, wandering instead.

A cabin lies further than he’s ventured thus far. The old man is there, too. He gives him a warm shirt. It fends off the worst of the chill. 

He learns he can throw stuff into the pot and make something edible. The peppers make him warmer.

Time is of the essence. He tries getting to the shrine again.

The river is fast and unforgiving. The water is much too cold. But it is not the cold that kills him. 

It’s the water. His leg gets stuck below.

He drowns.

⋟❋⋞

The blue pool is no longer a friend. Yes, it releases him, unlike the river. But the water makes him forget how to breathe.

He exits the shrine and sits near the drop-off until the beating in his chest calms.

Then, he just sits. He can’t move. Not yet. Not while his hair still drips blue drops from the pool.

The old man meets him there, tired of waiting. The shrines, he says. 

The Hero (is he still that?) gets up. That shrine is first now. No use in wasting time if he fails.

Somehow, he gets there. Giant ice blocks help him get back. 

The old man points him to the Temple, then disappears in a blaze of fire. A ghost. The old man has died.

Is Link, if that is truly him, also a ghost? No. He’s different.

He steps into the Temple. The old man speaks. Most of it does not stick with him, only that the Princess needs help. He knows. That is his only purpose, after all.

A paraglider is given to him. He will not die by falling again. He leaves the plateau. 

After he lands, a tall blue monster impales him with a spear. 

⋟❋⋞

After another few tries, he makes it to his next destination. In the house sits an old woman. She speaks without a thought to her words. But he is not quite the one she was expecting. She does not seem to mind as the old man had.

There are four new places to get to before he can enter the castle. How strange. But what does he know?

Somehow, he makes it all the way to the first one without incident. A giant flying bird circles the village of smaller flying birds. He fetches the one Rito, the name of the bird people, who hides away. Without hands, the bird shows him how to use a bow.

He returns to the village. 

While he ignored it the first time, this time he can’t ignore the tug that calls him to the platform they call ‘Revali’s.’

He steps onto it. The world melts away.

He sees a Rito. It doesn’t seem to like him very much. It flies away and taunts that he can’t do the same. Silly bird. Hylians do not fly.

When he comes back to himself, he finds his eyes crying. How strange. He decides he does not like the landing platform.

He is flown to the ‘divine beast.’ Puzzles are weird. The voice that talks at him while he progresses is rude.

The abomination he fights is hard. Though, somehow, he manages it. The giant bird glows blue like his shrine.

The Rito, a ghost like the old man,  rewards him with strong gusts for his travels. It looks sad. 

Link, the one he is mistaken for, leaves in the night.

Skeletons rise from the earth. Most of the arrows they shoot miss. Three hit him. They slow him enough for a fourth to pierce his heart.

⋟❋⋞

He stands on the plateau’s first cliffside and tries to call on the winds like he was shown. It greets him by ruffling his hair and clothes. However, it is not the great gust he was shown. Merely the breeze from his high place. The gift did not stay through his death.

That is fine. He’ll just get it again. So, he jumps.

Though he forgets he has not yet claimed the paraglider from the old man. 

In his most foolish death yet, he dies from the height of his fall.

⋟❋⋞

Once again securing the Rito’s winds, he is off toward the giant elephant. All the water is unnerving. The rain is supposedly never-ending.

A fish man, the ‘Zora Prince,’ meets him along the road and warns him of the monsters. Then he swims away.

He must not have been listening well, he thinks, as the lizard monster shoots him with a yellow-tipped arrow.

Everything burns. His body won’t move. The electricity is not a friend.

The lizard runs him through.

⋟❋⋞

He makes it to the Zora village. The fish king is very large.

An old fish man points out the large statue of a woman that sits in the town center. Another vision overtakes him.

The woman, a Zora Princess (not his Princess), heals him with some magic light. They sit atop the giant elephant. She speaks. The vision ends.

He is given a tunic that helps him swim better. It is a kind gift. Perhaps the water can once again be his friend.

The elephant is filled with puzzles like the giant bird. These puzzles might be easier.

The abomination that greets him at the end is similar to the bird’s. It can reach further. He is not fast enough.

His head is severed from his shoulders.

⋟❋⋞

The elephant is easy. The abomination inside is not. He makes swift potions to aid him. He is victorious this time. 

The Zora’s ghost greets him. Her eyes are sad like the old man’s. She gives him her gift of healing. The rain stops. The lizard monsters scatter. He leaves. 

On his way to the next divine beast, he tries to figure out how to work the Zora’s gift. The Rito, though rude, at least had shown him how to use the winds. He runs into a monster camp to find out.

With all his deaths, he has been learning how to fight. The monsters fall by his blade (though this blade isn’t right, it serves its purpose), leaving little for him to experiment with. He runs into the forest.

Two men in white masks appear before him. The Hero, self–proclaimed, has not taken a Hylian life. He hesitates. The two men don't. 

A sickle slices his front open.

They laugh. He dies.

- - - 

But instead of the Shrine, he wakes on the grass. 

“It has been my pleasure.” The Zora says. Oh. The gift gives him another chance. It is all hers to give.

He continues from where he left off this time. 

The Zora Prince speaks to him. There is little to understand. He leaves.

To the lava mountain.

Horses graze in the distance; he spooks them when trying to catch one. He has seen travelers riding them. Maybe one day he can figure it out.

The mountain is hot. A woman gives him a salve that cools him down. It only helps a little. He changes into his briefs to further help with the heat. They stare, but do not speak.

He makes his way up, following the pre-made path.

A lava octopus emerges from the mountainside and nails him in the head with a boulder. Whether he dies on impact or from falling into the living fire and burning alive, he doesn’t know. It makes no difference.

But the Zora palace is now his first destination.

⋟❋⋞

The Zora gives him healing. He tries the giant lizard before getting to the bird.

The living rocks are very loud, though they seem kind.

In the cliffside is carved a family. He knows what's coming the moment he sees it, but cannot stop the vision that comes.

This Goron is happy too. Very big. Very loud. Non-living rocks roll off the mountain. The Goron glows red, and the rocks bounce off him.

It ends. Tears fall down his face.

He is not appreciative of the one who pointed out the carving. He walks toward the giant lizard. A young Goron insists on helping. At the very least, he is a good listener.

He shoots the Goron out of a cannon. 

Then steps into the giant lizard. Puzzles. Terminals. 

Abomination. It kills him once, but the Zora revives him. He is victorious. 

The ghost of a Goron gives him his shield. He tests it on the same octopus that killed him last time. It works. The Goron shield is almost as good as the Zora’s healing. It will defend him. 

But only once a life, he finds out. He does this the hard way.

A man-horse monster he encounters does not give him a chance to fight before he is crushed to death by its hooves. 

⋟❋⋞

Elephant. Lizard. Bird. Now he only needs the camel.

The tall, red haired women won’t let him in. He has to dress in special clothes. Vai clothes. They are nice and cool him down in the heat. It is a much different heat than the fire mountain.

He must retrieve a golden helm. In the midst of the red suits and white masks. He almost sneaks his way through the hideout, but is caught by the leader. He is forced to fight.

Without meaning to, Link, a name he has dragged through the mud, kills the masked man. 

The remaining masked members flee from the murderer in fear.

Left alone, he cries strongly. Even though he knows that if the death was necessary, it will happen next time. Still, the body mourns until night falls and he almost freezes to death. But all his work would be in vain if he let himself die now. He dons the feathered tunic from the bird people and returns to the Gerudo people.

The tiny Gerudo leader accepts the helm from him. She smiles in just a way-

The vision starts. He sees a Gerudo woman and a Hylian girl. The first wakes the other. Then he himself wakes.

The girl stays seared in his mind.

He leaves for the camel.

Just getting into it might be the hardest of the beasts. Sand is everywhere. He needs to hit the moving targets. Good. The bird taught him how before. So, the camel is stopped. 

He climbs inside.

Puzzles. They are not his friend here. Neither is the electricity; he already knows. 

This abomination is even faster than the others had been. Though he is armed and prepared compared to it, he is slow.

The lightning burns him from the inside-out, and he dies. What a way to go.

- - -

The grace brings him back. He drinks one of the resistant potions immediately. Now all he has is the shield, which he must time well or else it will lose its use.

The abomination was not prepared to see his body spring back to life. 

He learns to use magnesis to help it hurt itself. When it falls he attacks.

The shield saves him from a death when the lightning tries to catch him. He is on his own now.

He shoots an arrow at an eye. It dies. 

A form of lightning meant for lightning is given by the Gerudo woman. He can’t see himself using it.

He stumbles out.

Deserts are strange. They’re hot. And they're cold. He must change again out of the warm tunic to accommodate. The tiny Gerudo thanks him. He leaves.

The castle finally comes into view again. The terrible ‘guardians’ surround it. They make the body react in a similar way to the water after he drowns. Fear, he thinks. It makes his breath quick and his chest hurt. He sneaks around them, and though it takes longer, he gets to the sanctum.

The Princess apologizes. She does not need to.

The abomination of the castle, the King of abominations emerges and pulls them down into the castle’s depths. The four divine beasts help. Then he is on his own.

It has too many weapons. Is too unpredictable. His armor feels once again like rags as it cuts him down the middle.

Link, the one he couldn’t truly be, dies.

⋟❋⋞

It is not a failure. He learns because of it. He knows that much.

Not that he knows a lot else. He could make a list of all the things he knows:

The big blue expanse is the sky (though it can also be red, and black, and yellow). 

The Princess (whoever she is) needs help. 

And death (the concept of which he does not understand) is only a means to try again.

⋟❋⋞

- - -

Legend cursed at the shining golden gate. 

A golden gate meant another hero. It meant their eight would become nine. It meant another Link whose life they had to disrupt. 

Screw all that.

It had been three or four weeks since the last golden gate and the welcoming of Four into their numbers. Since then, they had been through three different, much less divine-feeling portals, making them all assume that Four would be the last of their heroes. Turns out they were wrong.

How many more would have to join them? Just how big was the threat they would have to face? And how long before he could walk right up to Hylia and tell her to buzz off-

“Ack! Legend!” Wind yelled, throwing his arms up to keep Legend’s feathers out of his face. Whoops. 

Legend forced his flaring wings to chill out, muttering a quick apology to the tiny Sailor. It wasn’t Legend’s fault he was standing so close, after all. 

Well, there was no use in trying to fight it. Luckily, they had already packed up camp and were set to begin traveling. At least this time, Hylia let them prepare. He waited for no one before stepping into it.

Walking through it felt like every other time before. Disorienting. Cold. Wrong. One would think Hylia could spare a better way of traveling, but no, of course not. It didn’t seem she cared for their destination, either. The moment his feet found purchase in this new time, Legend was practically assaulted by the weather. 

Rain fell from the heavens in freezing cold sheets, immediately drenching through all the layers of his clothing. Someone yelped from the sudden shock of it. Strong gales blew from their left, causing Legend to stumble into the person nearest to him, Warriors, who was flaring out his wings to try to keep himself balanced. Legend nearly did the same until he then heard the thunder that boomed and echoed all around them, followed quickly by flashing lightning just beyond them. His wings stayed pressed tightly against himself. It was more likely that the wind would simply knock him down if he tried, anyway. 

A quick check assured that the two smallest were standing with others; Wind leaned against Wild, and Four with Twilight.

Hylia had dropped them in the middle of a god-forsaken lightning storm.

How lovely. He could already imagine how long it would take to dry out all his belongings.

Even better, it seemed as if they were on some kind of platform or elevated plain. Only darkness was visible past the edge, and no one would dare get close enough to see what might lie beyond. Not unless they were keen on getting blown off. Well, he’d keep an extra eye out for Wild and Hyrule.

Though, perhaps there was a bit of an upside to all this: They wouldn’t have to look far for their new hero.

In the center of it all stood a young man pointing a glowing blue Master Sword in their direction, his stance one of tired defense. The man looked confused, surprised maybe; it was hard to make out his exact expression through the heavy rain.

The leader of their rag-tag group, Time, made his way to the front of them, hands up in a sign of peace. His expression was unnoteworthy, but Legend knew that he was actively fighting back a grimace. The Old Man hated the rain; anything more than a drizzle made him irritable. Owls were not as resistant to rain as other birds, after all.

Time tried calling out to the man, but his words were stolen by the wind. Legend couldn’t even hear most of the words. The Master Sword stayed raised in warning. 

Hmm, that might be a problem. It had been difficult enough to explain themselves to any of the heroes in the first place, armed to the gills and suddenly appearing out of nowhere. It would be nearly impossible to do so if they had no true way of communication. This hero was ready for a fight.

And perhaps he had the advantage. Maybe this horrid weather was a staple of his time; if so, he surely had the advantage over any of them.

Before they could find out if that would be the case, the hero crumpled to the ground as a puppet with cut strings. And as if in pity, the rain began to let up, softening from a torrential downpour to a more tolerable rainfall. Time, Warriors, and himself, as the closest ones, surged toward the young man. Legend nearly jumped into the air, ready to spring into a quick flight to reach the fallen hero, but caught himself just before he spread his wings.

That was close. He certainly wasn’t heavy enough to fight against the winds- they would’ve easily snatched him up and carelessly tossed him away. Instead, he clinked his heels together and whispered an incantation under his breath. The Pegasus boots sang with magic. Legend ran.

When he reached the hero, the only thing he could think was, oh. This was much worse than he thought.

Just a first glance revealed pressing injuries that only one fresh from a battle should bear. Dark gashes of blood that must have been stab wounds stained the rain-soaked green tunic, and a long cut down the length of his thigh. His left arm twisted wrongly. Any exposed flesh was either black and blue, or angry red. 

In the hand that had been holding the Master Sword, the palm and fingers of the hero’s glove looked as if melted onto the skin of his hand. Exactly in the shape of her hilt. 

And perhaps worst of all, the hero, battered and broken, was only still a teenager (though that was nothing new).

Warriors finally caught up, kneeling beside the two of them. Immediately, the Captain acted, pulling the hero to himself and brushing his fingers over the evident injuries, assessing them. Being held like a child made the hero look even younger.

It was then Legend realized: the hero had no wings.

They were not folded under him, as he’d initially believed. Nor were they dark and just hard to see in the still-falling rain. No, he simply had none. Legend’s wings fluttered at the thought. He forced them back down.

The others caught up, questions in their eyes, but silence on their lips.

Then, something tugged the edge of his soul. Legend’s gaze flew up, searching. However, there was no new swirling portal in front of them. He turned.

The golden gate still stood. No.

All of the heroes bristled at once, those who could, flaring their wings in anger.

“It seems she already expects us to travel back.” Time commented. There was no lost love for Hylia in his tone. His single blue eye stared at the new hero for only a moment, before continuing, “It’s best we comply.”

Even though it was insane. Even though they had never been asked to travel through the portals more than once in the same day, let alone only a few, rain-soaked minutes after arriving. However, there was little to be done about it. Either they went through the portal willingly, or Hylia made a new one and forced them through it. He’d found that out the hard way. 

At their best, the portals were disorienting and sickening. At the worst, Legend felt as though he was being twisted inside out. His defiance had instantly turned to regret; it had been horrible. They could not do that to the boy.

It seemed like Twilight, who had also experienced the forced portal, had come to the same conclusion. “Let’s go.” He agreed. 

“No, wait.” Came a whisper.

The boy was blinking up at them, his one bruised eyelid staying stubbornly closed. 

Time knelt beside the boy. “I truly do apologize, but we must go. She…” He pauses, as if holding back as much harshness as he was able, “Hylia has willed it.”

“But,” the boy starts, trying to straighten himself as if to pull away from the Captain and move himself. A cry of pain results from the simple attempt of movement. He looks out into the nothing that waits beyond the plateau, “She’s down there. Zelda.”

And just like that, it got even worse.

While Legend could’ve put two-and-two together (a part of him already had, the rest just didn’t want to admit it), those words confirmed it. He was still on his adventure. Or from the looks of it, was just shy of completing it and returning home. But now he wouldn’t be going home.

Getting back to his feet, a knee definitely ‘popped.’ Still, Time directed his attention to the other heroes. “Come, let’s give him the moment.”

Quickly, Time and Twilight herded the remaining heroes into the portal. “We’ll meet you on the other side.” The Old Man winked at them (or had it just been a blink?) before he stepped through. Only Warriors, Legend, and the new hero remained.

The boy wasted no time. Tugging on Warriors’ scarf, he tried to pull himself up, to no avail. “Please, I just, I need to see her.” He whispered, voice ragged, desperation clear on his face. It was not a question. 

Even if he wanted to, Legend was not strong enough nor big enough to carry a passenger. Not anymore. Not since…

Stupid bleeding heart, he was. He locked eyes with Warriors. At first, he wasn’t sure what he would ask, other than perhaps to find a way to help the kid. “Captain?”

Warriors, who had appeared as torn as Legend himself was, simply nodded, expression cooling into one of resolve. He slowly rose to his feet. The boy in his arms whimpered. His blistered hands shook as he tried to grab onto the Captain.

Though the rain still poured from above, and the winds still tugged all around, Warriors lifted his wings. And jumped into the air. Within only a few seconds, Legend was lost from sight, and Warriors and his new friend soared. 

He tried flying straight just long enough to clear the plateau. Even that little bit of distance was hard. He was confident enough to know that he would not be knocked completely out of the air, but to end up exactly where he planned was less likely.

Luckily, all he planned was the dropoff. Once there was nothing but empty air beneath him, Warriors dove.

The new hero screamed. First, in surprise and fear, then it shifted more toward joy, if not disbelief. The boy clung onto him so tightly, the Captain would not be surprised to wake up with bruises in the shapes of fingers the next morning. Regardless, he knew there was no chance he would drop him.

As they fell, the storm was left behind. The thunder faded, and the rain lightened more and more the further they got. How peculiar. Warriors kept his wings flared, slowing their descent. There was no way of telling just how far the surface was, after all. To his relief, land was within sight. 

Shapes began sharpening underneath. A large stone statue made the new hero squirm, tossing his head back to get a better view. Warriors leaned toward it, letting muscle memory guide the movement of his wings. There was a little platform near the base of the statue, and at the very least, he could get them there. He would, given the pure determination this new hero held to get there.

Warriors circled the back of the statue’s head and back around to the front. They drew closer.

He heard her before he saw her.

“Link!”

Zelda. Immediately he was sure. Dressed in all white, with long golden hair and a peculiar expression set on her face. 

And then a golden gate opened before them, too close to maneuver around. Invisible hands grabbed him. Warriors was forced into the gate, the new hero held tightly in his arms.