Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sky didn’t mean to wander off from the others.

And he would regret it later, after everything, but at the time he hadn’t really been thinking of the potential consequences. The only thing he had been able to focus on was his own shame, and that had, rather unsurprisingly, led him here. 

They had been in Time’s Hyrule, picking a meandering path around the Lost Woods, when a portal had suddenly appeared before them, spitting dark magic and blocking the path they were on. Instantly they had picked up the pace, hoisting their gear and breaking into a jog as Time did an instinctive headcount, and each of them in turn had been swiftly swallowed by the portal. 

Each of them but Sky, that is. 

Lagging at the back of the group as usual, Sky had been in the middle of composing a mental letter to Sun when the portal appeared, and had been so startled out of his thoughts that in his haste to collect himself he dropped some of his gear. Scrambling to gather it up again only resulted in precious seconds lost, and the portal was just beginning to close when he finally straightened, leaving a few arrows and deku seeds still scattered in the grass, and made a frantic sprint for the portal. 

He had emerged on the other side red-faced and gasping for air, fumbling with his gear and attempting to stuff it back in his pouch as the portal snapped shut behind him. Up ahead, Time, who was doing another headcount, had paused and looked towards Sky with his remaining eye narrowed. 

“Sky?” 

The rest of the chain had turned and looked at him then, suddenly aware that he had only just come through the portal, and Time stepped forward, armor clanking as he approached. 

“What happened?” 

Sky gulped, self-conscious as he fiddled with his shield. “Um.” He winced, one hand automatically going to scratch the back of his neck as he looked anywhere but Time’s face. “I…got lost in thought and so the portal caught me off-guard and I dropped my gear.” 

Time sighed heavily, seeming disappointed, and Sky flinched, feeling suddenly like a child again. “Don’t let it happen again, okay? We could’ve left you behind.” 

Oh, and you all would’ve suddenly cared about that? 

“Sorry,” Sky mumbled aloud, his face hot as he stared at the ground.  

Time gave a short nod, giving Sky a brief pat on the back before turning to address the rest of the chain and seeming to forget about Sky completely. “Do we know whose Hyrule this is?” he questioned, surveying the field they stood in. 

“I think it’s mine, old man.” Legend was staring around them thoughtfully. “I recognize those mountains nearby.”  

“Ok, then we should–” 

Time walked over to Legend, who was pulling a map from his pouch, but Sky didn’t hear what they were saying. He turned away from the rest of the group, feeling frozen and kicking himself mentally. 

What had he been thinking, getting distracted like that? Triforce knew the other Links already thought of him as a featherhead, always getting his head stuck in the clouds, never paying attention to anything around him. They probably wondered how he had even saved his Zelda, incompetent as he knew he must appear. 

(He doesn’t even know who Ganondorf is) 

(Then who did he actually fight?) 

Sky adjusted his shield on his back, gaze unfocused as a sour taste filled his mouth. There had been so many opportunities when he could’ve spoken up, when he could’ve said something about Demise and the Silent Realms and the scars that stretched over his torso. But he had always kept silent, unwilling to speak too much of himself, afraid of what they might do if they found out it was his fault.

Now he wondered if that had been a mistake, because the other Links seemed to think he had had it easy on his journey.   

And here he just went and further proved to them that he was an unworthy hero, that he didn’t deserve this sword on his back, that he couldn’t even pay attention for long enough to keep up with them when the portal appeared. 

Useless waste of space. 

A bitter expression came over his face, sweaty fingers clenching inside his gloves as his shoulders heaved. His chest felt tight, so tight, and his head was fairly ringing with shame. He could only imagine what they must be thinking right now. 

Inadequate–

“–Sky? Um, Sky?” 

There was a voice behind him. Immediately he tensed, heat flooding his cheeks again as he realized he had once more drifted away in thought, had once more failed to pay attention to his surroundings. Stupid, incompetent, useless– 

He turned, smile plastered on his face, forcing himself into a relaxed posture. “Yes?” 

Wind blinked up at him, and Sky suddenly noticed the other Links setting up camp at the borders of a forest. “We’re halting for a bit,” Wind said uncertainly, watching the chosen hero’s face. “Wild’s gonna cook some food.” 

“...Okay, thank you,” Sky said after a moment, making sure his voice sounded steady, cheerful. He stretched his smile slightly wider, reaching to put a hand on Wind’s shoulder. “Come on, then.” 

The sailor returned his smile with ease, seeming to think no more of Sky’s strange behavior, but the chosen hero’s thoughts were racing as they approached the temporary camp. Twilight was helping Wild collect firewood at the edge of the forest, the two of them talking and laughing with ease. Warriors, Time, and Legend were huddled around Legend’s map, deep in discussion, and Four and Hyrule were giggling as they crouched in front of a tiny bird. Wind raced off to join the latter two, who beamed at his approach, and the three of them knelt excitedly together, watching as the bird hopped around. 

Sky watched them all from the borders of the camp, frozen in place where Wind had left him. His chest felt tighter with each passing moment as he stared at his brothers. They were all so close, so in sync and at ease with each other, but he–

A lump built in his throat as he thought, and not for the first time, that maybe it would be better if he had never joined them on their quest. 

Without any further reflection Sky slipped unnoticed past the camp, ducking into the treeline where Twilight and Wild were gathering firewood. He paused for a moment, listening to their easy chatter, and then continued deeper into the trees, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. He didn’t know where he was going, but he knew that somehow he had to get away. 

I’ll go back in a bit, he reasoned with himself. And I’ll act like nothing ever happened. And…and I’ll try harder so I don’t disappoint them anymore. 

Leaves crunched beneath his boots as he wove through tall maples and ancient oaks, the early fall crispness searing into his lungs. Legend had mentioned mountains, and Sky remembered seeing them just beyond the forest he was now in– they hadn’t appeared to be terribly large. He had only seen mountains up close a few times, and enjoyed the privilege of standing atop one just once. It had been exhilarating, so close to the sky, up where the air was thin and he could breathe. He had stretched his fingers towards the clouds and ached. 

Maybe he could go up one of these mountains, just a little ways. Not too far. Just enough to feel the height, enough to look over the edge and see the ground drop away from his feet into nothingness.  

Sky pushed all other thoughts from his mind and continued weaving through the forest, marveling at the silence. Save for the crackle of dried leaves and his own pants for air, the trees were completely still, like they had caught their breath. 

Like they were waiting for something. 

Sky attempted to brush away the feeling, but it persisted, gnawing at his ribs. His fingers tensed, itching to reach back and unsheath Fi, but there was nothing in the trees but himself. He forced himself to continue walking, to enjoy the silence. 

At last he could see the ground beginning to rise faintly, and the trees dissipated somewhat, opening into a wide clearing. The mountain loomed above him, speckled in bursts of red and gold leaves, and Sky stared at it for a moment before beginning to walk up it. The ground was steep enough that he had to exert himself a little, but not so steep he had to pull himself up. He progressed fairly quickly up the side, quicker than he would’ve imagined, but lingering shame gave him an additional boost of energy. 

The others were probably wondering about him by now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They could eat without him; he wasn’t hungry anyway.

And maybe, he thought, though he didn’t particularly want to, they won’t even notice I’m gone. 

He hauled himself up onto a broad, flat rock face, the highest he could go without actually climbing, and turned to look down. 

The ground dropped steeply from beneath the toes of his boots, a sharp drop that plunged to meet the top of the forest below. Beyond the trees he could see the field he was in only an hour ago, stretching away into the distance in the late afternoon sunlight. 

Sky drew a deep breath, shutting his eyes and lifting his face to feel the cool shafts of autumn sun on his skin. There was a breeze up here that had been lacking on the plain, and the atmosphere was marginally chillier, the air a bit thinner. So long as his eyes were closed, he could imagine that he was back on Skyloft, standing at the edge of the island, wind in his hair. He could almost hear Zelda–

He swallowed, turning away from the cliff. He should probably head back now; they would be worried at this point, if they had even noticed. He–

Sky’s brow furrowed.

Up ahead, in the side of the mountain, was the dark maw of a cave. 

He knew he should ignore it, should make his way back down to level ground, but something about the cave pulled him forward as if by invisible strings. He approached it slowly, stumbling slightly on the rocky ground, and halted just before the cave’s mouth, feeling a breath of cold air as if the cave itself had exhaled. 

He lingered for a moment, a faint twinge of unease in his gut, but his curiosity overruled his logic. Tamping down the feeling of dread in his stomach, he stepped into the passageway, body tensed for whatever might lie within. 

The passage was lit well enough by the light from outside, but the further he progressed, the darker it got until he could scarcely see. He was beginning to think he should turn around and leave when suddenly the tunnel widened, a faint glow from outside barely reaching to illuminate the space beyond. Sky stopped short, his breath catching in his throat. 

The passage had opened into an area where it came to an end, a broad main chamber with misty shadows swirling within. In the barely visible light it looked like something was written on the walls, but Sky couldn’t quite tell what. He unsheathed Fi and held her skyward, charging her with a blaze of light that immediately illuminated the cavern’s wet and mossy walls. 

From ceiling to floor, on every wall of the chamber, runes were inscribed in the dripping rock. 

And there in the center of the floor, only a few steps from where he stood, was a small circular pedestal with a single rune carved in the center. 

Sky stared at the runes for several minutes, trying to decipher them, but they were in a dialect he couldn’t read. Maybe Legend could; this was his Hyrule, after all. And yet…these runes didn’t even seem to resemble Legend’s Hylian. They appeared to be in another language entirely.

Sky reached out with his free hand and brushed his fingers against the runes on the wall closest to him. They were ancient, worn-down and partially covered in moss, but as soon as his fingertips pressed against them, the moss seemed to wither away, the lines of the runes sharpening just slightly. A wind blew past with a sound that sounded eerily like a sigh, tousling Sky’s hair before it died away, leaving the air colder than it was before. 

He stepped away from the wall, unease building in his chest. He should get out of here. He should– 

Fi’s light went out suddenly, plunging the chamber into blackness, and Sky jumped, his whole body jerking. He wasn’t one to believe in ghost stories, or at least he hadn’t since he was a child, but there was something about this place that chilled him to the bone. He wanted nothing more than to get out.  

And yet… something deep within him said otherwise, was urging him to step onto the faded pedestal in the center of the floor. It was as if the cavern itself was tugging him gently forward, whispering in his ears in a voice coated in honey. 

Just one step, it breathed, and Sky trembled. 

Just one. 

As if in a trance he moved forward towards the pedestal, pausing for the briefest of moments before stepping onto it with his breath stinging in his chest.  

Immediately bright, searing light flashed out from every wall of the cavern, lighting the runes in what seemed to be white fire. The single rune below his feet lit up as well, searing through the soles of his boots like molten lava and tearing a scream from his lungs, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t tear his feet from the pedestal, paralyzed where he stood. Fi slipped from his shaking grasp and clattered to the rock floor of the cave as the light grew brighter, so bright he couldn’t see, so bright that even when he closed his eyes it was still there, blinding him. 

A distant roar filled his ears like thunder, and the air itself seemed to sizzle. The searing pain spread from his feet to his limbs and then he was screaming, rooted to the spot, his very bones melting as fire consumed him in wisps of silver smoke.

Then all at once, just when he didn’t think he could take it anymore, the light swarmed into one giant, seething mass and exploded, sending fractures of radiance through his body in piercing shards. 

Sky’s eyes rolled back in his head and the darkness took him.

<><><>

Drip. 

Drip. 

Drip. 

There was water trickling somewhere, falling slow and steady onto a rocky floor. 

Through the splitting pain in his head he could tell he was lying on his side, cheek pressed against cold stone, one arm flung out beside him and the other curled beneath his chest. 

There was no light, only blackness. Blackness behind his eyelids, blackness beyond. Heavy and silent. 

He lay there for a moment trying to collect himself, fingers stretching out weakly upon the wet stone. Faint ghosts of pain crackled through his body, piercing his joints, stabbing into his skin, and he groaned, eyes still squeezed shut. The water continued dripping dully somewhere nearby, the only sound besides his raspy breathing. 

No, wait– through the fog in his mind there drifted the distant sound of voices, and footsteps echoing off of wet stone. 

So they care about me after all– 

The footsteps came nearer, and then a shout echoed suddenly in the chamber, sending another jolt of pain through his head. Sky flinched, curling into himself, eyes shut tight against the searing discomfort. The footsteps became louder, closer, seeming to multiply throughout the cavern before they halted just beside him. Sky was aware of a long silence and whispering voices, and then there was rustling and the pressure of a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hello?” 

Reluctantly Sky forced his eyes open. 

“Hey, um, can you hear me?” 

Someone was kneeling in front of him, their form dark and blurry. Spots swarmed at the edge of his vision as he struggled to sit up. 

“If you can hear me, nod.”

Weakly Sky nodded. 

“How many fingers am I holding up?”

Sky blinked. Blinked again. The person swam dizzily in and out of focus. 

“I don’t know.” His voice was a harsh croak.

The hand on his shoulder was still there, and slowly he became aware of another presence to his left. More people stood behind the kneeling figure, but he couldn’t make out who, and his head hurt too badly to identify the voice that had been speaking. 

“–Okay, well, maybe we should…goddess, does anyone have a potion, I think he might be concussed–” 

More whispering. A sudden glow of torchlight filled the chamber, and Sky flinched visibly as pain flared in his temples, recoiling and holding up one arm against the light. “Turn it off, turn it off,” someone hissed, and the chamber went dark again. 

“Does anyone have a potion?” the first voice said again, threaded with impatience. The twang to the words was familiar but Sky just couldn’t place who it belonged to as he clutched his head in both hands.

“–wait, Twi, I’ve just– I have one here, I just found it, sorry–” 

Footsteps moved quickly across the floor and the kneeling figure made a sound of affirmation as another figure stepped up beside him and handed him something. 

“Hey, uh– do you think you can drink this?” 

Sky heard the sound of a bottle being uncorked, and then the faint cherry scent of a heart potion met his senses. He blinked, trying again to clear his vision but failing, and then nodded slowly.  

“Okay.” The bottle appeared in his blurry line of sight, and he took it with shaking fingers, lifting it to his lips and swallowing the contents before squeezing his eyes shut and taking a few breaths as he waited for the potion to kick in. Someone pried the bottle gently from his hands, and after a few moments Sky opened his eyes once more. 

There– that was better. His headache was beginning to subside, and his vision had cleared enough for him to see that Twilight knelt before him, empty bottle in his grasp. Warriors sat to Sky’s left, a grounding hand on his shoulder, and everyone else stood grouped beyond Twilight. 

Sky carded a hand through his hair, brushing it off his forehead for a moment as he gathered his thoughts. How would he explain this? He swallowed, mouth dry even after the potion. “Um…thank you guys,” he said hoarsely, one arm curling around his ribs as the other hand braced against the floor of the cavern. “I really appreciate it.” 

The rancher nodded, gaze serious as he rocked back on his heels, watching Sky closely. “Did it– um, did the potion help?” He pointed to the bottle in his hand.

Sky nodded, still feeling a little dizzy. “Yeah, it did. Still kinda out of it but I’ll be okay.” 

He fell silent, waiting as he caught his breath. Waiting for the awkward questions that would inevitably come, the where have you been? and what happened to you? But the chain was silent, exchanging tense glances that made the hair prickle on the back of his neck. Sky wiped sweaty palms on his tunic and swallowed again, watching them. 

After a moment Twilight sighed, looking over his shoulder at Time. “What do you think, old man?” he asked quietly. 

Time cleared his throat, his face expressionless, arms folding over his chest. “Well, I…I don’t know, to be truthful.” 

“We should ask.” Warriors removed his hand from Sky’s shoulder, side-eyeing the chosen hero before getting to his feet and stepping behind him. 

“I don’t think he even knows,” piped up Hyrule. 

Sky’s head started spinning again. I don’t know what? 

Twilight grimaced. “Only one way to check, right?” He looked Sky in the eyes, mouth setting into a thin line. “So…what happened here, exactly?” 

“Um–” Sky rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “Like Hyrule said… I don’t really know, the runes–” He gestured to the walls, then faltered.

The runes were gone. The rocky walls of the cavern were completely bare, save for moss and slowly dripping water. 

What? 

Twilight’s gaze shifted to the wall, then back to Sky, his eyes suddenly cold. “Another question,” he said, ignoring Sky’s statement about the runes, his voice carefully controlled. “How do you know who Hyrule is?” 

Sky felt like ice was piercing into his gut. He paused, hoping Twilight was joking, the blood draining out of his face as he stared in confusion. 

“What?”

The rancher’s teeth were clenched. “I said–” 

“Twilight.” 

Warriors stepped out of the shadows behind Sky, where he had apparently just picked up Fi, as the blade was gripped in his white-knuckled hands. He held it out for the others to see with his mouth set in a tight line, his gaze boiling with dark fury as his gaze moved to Sky. 

Sky didn’t miss the inhales and muttered exclamations of surprise from the rest of the chain. They stared at the sword for a long moment, a multitude of expressions flashing over their faces, before one by one their eyes moved slowly back to– him. 

“What is going on?” Sky croaked desperately, feeling suddenly small and insignificant and wanting to sink into the floor. Why are you looking at me like that? 

More silent glances passed between his brothers, laden with unspoken words, and then Time spoke up, his gaze stony.  “I think you should be the one telling us that, boy.” 

Warriors took a step closer, brows pinching together as he held the Master Sword against his chest. 

“Beginning with your name,” he said tightly, his words coiled in suspicious fury, and Sky’s heart shuddered in horror.  

Oh, Triforce. 

The world went dark. 

Chapter Text

On instinct Twilight caught the strange youth against one arm before he could hit the ground, his brow furrowing as the boy’s head rolled against his shoulder. He could feel the boy breathing against him, his every inhale shallow, as if he wasn’t getting enough air. His hair was soft against Twilight’s neck and chin, fluffy like the down of a bird, and Twilight was confused by the sudden pang in his chest. He didn’t know this boy, and he certainly didn’t trust him. 

So where was the ache coming from? 

Behind him Time cleared his throat, his boots scraping on the rocky floor of the cavern as he stepped forward. “Is he…fully out of it?” 

Twilight nodded, twisting to face him as the glow of Wild’s lantern suffused the cave. “Yes.” 

Time sighed, kneeling beside Twilight and staring at the unconscious youth for a long moment before he reached out with one hand and tilted the boy’s chin to better see his face. “I don’t like this at all,” he said slowly after a few seconds had passed, angling the boy’s head left and right before finally withdrawing his hand and shifting into a cross-legged position.  

“He…looks like one of us,” Hyrule piped up uncertainly, fiddling with his tunic and staring at the stranger in Twilight’s arms. “Doesn’t he?” 

“That’s what concerns me.” Time pressed his palms against either side of his neck, lost in thought. 

Four’s brow wrinkled. “What do you mean?” 

The old man shook his head, his expression unreadable. “He has the Master Sword, doesn’t he? And he wears a green tunic and looks like us, so everything points to the fact that he is one of us. But what makes me wary is that…” He paused, lips rolling together for a moment as he tried to formulate the words. 

“This isn’t his Hyrule.”  

Time’s gaze snapped to look at Legend, who had moved next to him unnoticed, in quiet surprise. “...Yes,” Time responded after a beat, his eye narrowing a fraction. “Yes, it’s exactly that. Because all the factors seem to be in favor of this boy being another bearer of the Hero’s Spirit, but– we’ve never found two heroes in the same Hyrule, have we? And this Hyrule…is Legend’s.” 

“So why is he here, is what you’re saying.” Wild’s voice was quiet. 

“It just doesn’t make sense, is all.” Time rubbed his chin with one hand, a deep frown creasing his forehead. 

“No, it doesn’t,” Warriors said icily. “Especially considering how we even got into this cave.” 

Wind shot him a confused look. “What do you mean? We just–” He cut himself off, mouth hanging open slightly. “We were down in camp, and then…” He blinked, face twisting in thought. “And then we all just started heading up the mountain, I don’t remember why, and…” 

“And then we were here,” Hyrule finished for him slowly, the color draining out of his face.  

“That’s what I mean,” Warriors continued grimly, Master Sword still cradled in his arms as he leaned against the wall, one foot idly propped but the rest of him poised for sudden movement. “I certainly don’t remember why we came up here, and I doubt any of you do, either.” 

“Not to mention that weird bang when we got up here; the whole cave practically vomited light.” Warriors threw Four a disgusted look, and the smith rolled his eyes. “Okay, it exploded with light, then. Same difference.” 

“And he–” Time gestured to the unconscious boy with one hand, disconcertment clear on his face. “He was unconscious when we got in here.”

 “No, not quite,” put in Hyrule softly. “I think he was just coming out of it, but he was pretty badly concussed, it looked like.” 

“But why?” Twilight looked down at the boy, watching him for a moment as his chest rose and fell in breaths that were still shallow. “He said something about runes, but the walls are completely bare. This whole cave is, in fact, except for him.” He swallowed, a bitter taste suddenly in his mouth as he glanced up again. “And have we forgotten that he already knew Hyrule’s name?”

“That’s right,” Hyrule whispered, eyes going wide. “But I’ve…I’ve certainly never seen him before.”  

After a stillness Wild spoke up, looking uncomfortable. “If this were my Hyrule,” he said slowly, “I would say that he’s a Yiga.” He cleared his throat, arms folding over his chest as his expression melted into doubtfulness. “But…it’s not my Hyrule, is it? So he can’t be.” 

“He could still be some wielder of  magic.” Time stood up, his joints cracking, and took a step backwards, watching Twilight and the boy. “We should be wary of him.” He glanced over at Hyrule, face impassive. “Could you check him over to see if he’s injured?” 

Hyrule nodded somberly, kneeling beside Twilight and laying his hands on the unconscious boy, who mumbled and shifted in Twilight’s arms. “He’s okay,” Hyrule said at length, face pale as he looked up at Time again. “Still has a slight concussion, but it’s nothing another potion won’t fix.” 

“Good.” Time fell silent, his brows drawing together in silent thought, and the tension in the cave thickened palpably, heavy in Twilight’s chest. He could feel the chain trading glances in the stillness, laden with unspoken words. 

“So what do we do, old man?” the rancher blurted finally, unable to stand the weighted silence any longer. 

Time’s knuckles pressed against his lips and he stared dead ahead, not appearing to have heard the question. Twilight was opening his mouth to repeat it when his mentor raised a hand and spoke in a voice coated with lead.

“We wait for him to wake up.” 

<><><>

Something warm was holding him. Something warm and solid that felt remarkably like Twilight. 

Sky groaned, the splitting pain fracturing through his skull again as he began to stir, thoughts racing in his mind. This was, what, his second time unconscious today? If he was being honest, it was getting just a little bit old to wake out of blackness with a massive headache. But Hyrule probably had another potion for him to drink, and–

Oh.

He kept his eyes shut tight, the memory suddenly flooding back of the chain’s strange reactions just before he passed out a second time. Warriors had even asked for his name, of all things, which was utterly ridiculous because they knew who he was, he’d been traveling with them for months, so why…

Whatever the reason, he wouldn’t be getting any answers with his eyes shut. Sky braced himself slightly before forcing them open and almost instantly regretted the action. Someone must have lit a lantern, because the cave was now flooded with a warm glow that might as well have been a knife in his skull. Squinting against the light, he let another groan slip out, trying to push himself upright but connecting with someone’s chest instead. 

“Easy,” the rancher’s voice said, and Sky blinked. So he had been right about who was holding him. He tilted his head upwards and was met with Twilight’s stony gaze, his eyes sharp as he watched the chosen hero carefully, as if Sky was a rabid dog who couldn’t be trusted. 

That was a look Sky had only ever seen directed at a monster, and now it was piercing into him. 

“Twi?” he said hoarsely, fingers bunching into the rough fabric of the rancher’s tunic and causing him to stiffen. “Why are you looking at me like… What did I do?” He gulped, gaze drifting to the rest of the chain when Twilight remained silent. “Why are you all acting so strange? I’m not sure what–” 

“Silence.” 

Time. Sky snapped his mouth shut, a sour taste filling his mouth as he met the old man’s gaze.

The coldness he found there chilled him to the bone.  

“I think,” Time said, enunciating his words slowly and carefully, “you need to tell us who you are.”

There someone went again, asking for his name, and the thought suddenly occurred to Sky– was this all some stupid prank? Some dumb, ridiculous joke at his expense, and after a few minutes they would stop pretending and laugh about it and head back to camp as if nothing had happened? Sky could imagine that being the truth well enough. It wasn’t like it hadn’t happened before.

Usually he enjoyed a good joke, but not when it was about him. Not when he was made into an object of ridicule, like his journey had meant absolutely nothing at all. 

He swallowed painfully, pushing away from Twilight with more roughness than he meant and getting unsteadily to his feet. Golden triforce, his head was ringing.

But he could deal with that later, because this needed to end now.  

Sky straightened slowly, each movement sending a stab of pain through his skull, and looked Time dead in the eye, unwavering in his gaze. “If this is a joke,” he said, each word snapping out like the flash of a bomb, “it needs to stop.”

Time stared back at him, his expression hardening into granite. 

“This isn’t a joke,” he answered in a deadly tone, his voice so heavy that Sky suddenly knew without doubt– he meant it. 

“The old man asked you a question,” a voice spoke up from behind Sky, boots scraping on the ground. The captain. “Answer it.”

Sky’s throat was suddenly drier than Lanayru Desert as he opened his mouth, fumbling with the words in his mind. 

“My name is Link,” he said raspily after a few seconds, his heart tight in his chest. He could feel his fingers clenching as he drew a breath. “But– you all call me Sky.” 

“We can’t have called you something if we’ve never laid eyes on you before,” Warriors ground out. 

“Yes, but–” Sky swallowed, his shoulders tensing. “We’ve traveled together for months, I don’t understand why you’re all acting like you’ve never–” 

He cut himself off. 

The runes. 

The runes. 

The light, bright and searing, burning through his body like lava before it exploded and left him cold and drifting in the darkness. 

That was the last thing he remembered before they had found him. Before they began acting like they never knew him at all. 

That had to be it, right? 

In desperation he reached for Time, grabbing at the older hero’s forearm. “Time. You have to believe me, I’m not lying, I–” Wildly he gestured towards the cavern walls, aware of how crazy he must sound. “There were runes in this cavern, and I stepped up onto that pedestal there and they– they exploded, kind of, and that’s when I got knocked out and when I woke up you all were acting like this, like you don’t know me, and it must be the runes because–” 

He paused, out of breath, and Time tried to pull his arm free, but Sky only tightened his grip. “I’m one of you, you have to believe me, I’m telling the truth,” he pleaded, voice ragged and threadbare. “I–I wouldn’t lie about something like this.”

“He does have the Master Sword,” Twilight said, getting to his feet. “And the looks, and the tunic.”

“And we found him in my Hyrule, ” Legend deadpanned, his voice flat, and Twilight fell silent. But the gears had begun to turn in Sky’s brain. 

“That’s right, the Master Sword! I can– Fi, she knows me, I can prove to you–” Breathlessly he turned to Warriors, who scowled and held the sword tighter against his chest. Frustration boiled within Sky, and he exhaled, palm pressing briefly against his forehead before he tried to level with the captain. “Look, there’s a simple way to prove that I’m who I say I am, okay?” 

Warriors eyed him suspiciously, then glanced at Time with raised eyebrows, knuckles white on the sword. Sky’s shoulders sagged in relief when behind him Time grated out, “Let him try.” 

 “Are you sure–” Warriors cleared his throat, his face twisting before he sighed and shut his mouth, reluctantly offering the Master Sword to Sky. 

Sky could practically taste the tension building in the air as he reached out to the sword with a trembling hand. It’s just Fi, he told himself, eyes briefly slipping shut. She at least will remember you. 

He blinked and drew a tremulous breath, his mouth going dry as his hand lingered just above Fi’s blade, sensing the energy flowing within her. A moment later his fingers closed around the hilt, and he lifted the sword with a firm grip, a shaky breath of relief leaving his lungs. “See? I told you that I–” 

The Master Sword suddenly shuddered, the blade flashing a few times as if in confusion, and Sky stopped talking, cold fear washing over him. 

“Fi?” he said hoarsely between cracked lips, his heart constricting in his chest. “Fi, what are you doing?” 

The sword shuddered again, and then without warning searing heat broiled up into Sky’s palm, sizzling against his skin with unbearable intensity. A yelp leapt unbidden from his lips, and, helpless to do anything else, he dropped the sword onto the ground with a resounding clang. Sky stood in petrified shock, his breath whistling loosely in his lungs as his gaze fell to his right hand. 

The palm of his glove had all but melted away, and the skin beneath was raw, the uppermost layers blistered and peeling away in chunks to reveal a shiny wetness beneath. The burn stretched in gory, snaking tendrils all the way to his fingertips and down to the start of his wrist, leaving some of the muscle and tendons exposed in a nauseating display of gore. 

 Sky felt his legs beginning to shake in his boots as he stared at the wound, scarcely aware of the pulsing pain that was radiating like wildfire throughout his hand. 

Fi did that. 

Fi burned him. 

“Fi?” he said, almost in a whimper, his voice tight and strangled. “Why did you do that?” His knees hit the rocky floor of the cavern, and with his unscathed hand he reached out feebly, desperately for the Master Sword, his fingers trembling and unsteady. It was just a fluke, that’s all, she didn’t mean it, she’ll know me if–

Warriors stepped between Sky and the sword, blocking his path. 

“Stop.” 

Sky went cold down to his very marrow, ice washing over him in waves as he knelt, trembling, blood starting to ooze from his burned hand in crimson smears. 

“She doesn’t know me,” he choked out, and saying it aloud was somehow the breaking point. 

She doesn’t know me. 

And neither do they. 

The anguish that suddenly seized him in its grip swept through him with such force the breath was knocked from his lungs. Sky clutched his injured hand to his chest and collapsed onto his side, wheezing, tears starting to stream from his eyes as he choked for air. The rocky ground dug painfully into his side and an excruciating ache was beginning to radiate throughout his hand and wrist, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself, chest heaving as sobs wracked his body. 

“They’ve forgotten me,” he all but shrieked, over and over again, until his throat was raw and stinging, until a metallic taste filled his mouth as his body shook violently on the floor. 

They’ve forgotten me–  

Sky buried his face beneath one arm and screamed.

Chapter Text

Sobs echoed throughout the cavern, ricocheting off the walls over and over again as the boy– Sky, as he had called himself– huddled on the floor in anguish, weeping and shrieking like something feral as Four stared in frozen shock. The strange boy was completely oblivious to Twilight and Hyrule as they rushed to kneel beside him, touching his arms, speaking to him gently as they tried to bring him back to himself. 

This didn’t make sense to Four, not a bit. Surely this boy, Sky, couldn’t be a Link— after all, they found him in the wrong Hyrule, and the Master Sword itself just rejected him, which was a clear sign that he was a far shot from carrying the Hero’s spirit. 

But something nagged at Four’s conscience as he watched Twilight wrestle the boy onto his back, holding him firmly to the ground to keep him from thrashing and injuring himself further in his crazed state. Something whispered deep inside of Four, and for once it was a voice he didn’t recognize. 

Something was wrong about this. 

The smith bit the inside of his cheek, mulling whether or not to say anything, but the louder the boy’s cries grew, the more adamant the whisper inside of him became. This wasn’t right, not at all. He couldn’t ignore it any longer.

“Time?” 

The old man stood, face impassive, a few feet away from Four, watching the spectacle with arms folded over his chest, and the smith had to clear his throat and try again before he was finally heard. 

“Yes?” Time didn’t take his gaze off of the three on the ground as Twilight kept Sky firmly pinned while he tried desperately to break free, shrieking and thrashing like a feral beast, his eyes wild as blood dripped down his arm.  

Four faltered, something twinging in his chest at the sight before he shook himself out of it. “Time, I know it seems improbable that what he says is true—” 

“Improbable?” Time snorted, finally glancing over at him. “There’s not a grain of truth about it, don’t tell me you believe—”

“Just…listen, okay?” Four swallowed, hands fisting in his tunic as Wild and Legend hovered near the three on the ground, ready to assist Twilight if need be. “Look at that. We all saw him go…insane, right?” 

Time nodded, seeming unsure as to where Four was going, his eye boring into the smith like ice.  

“Because… that doesn’t look fake to me,” Four went on quietly.  

Time’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, not saying anything. But– someone had stiffened behind Four, he was sure of it. Maybe someone else agreed with him, even if the old man didn’t. 

He turned out to be correct, because a moment later, soft like a cat, the Champion slipped up between Four and Time, not looking at either of them. 

“Four is right,” he whispered, gaze fixed on Sky as the boy’s weeping began to subside somewhat, morphing into strangled gasps and chokes for air. “I’ve…I’ve seen emotion that powerful just once before.” He paused, lips compressing before he added, “You… you all know I don’t have many memories from before the Calamity.” At Time and Four’s respective nods, he forged onwards, voice barely audible, “But that emotion… is one of the few real things I remember. So I know for a fact that this– this right here–” He pointed to Sky, who was now weeping into Twilight’s tunic, his injured hand dangling to one side as blood and pus leaked from it in glistening streaks. “This is genuine, Time.” 

 Time ruffled his bangs with one hand, jaw muscles still tight. “So what you’re saying is that, as unbelievable as his story sounded…we should trust him because his emotion is real…? I’m sorry, I’m not buying–” 

“He’s clearly very distressed,” Wild interrupted softly. “And he said something about Fi, directed to the Master Sword, as if it… could hear him. He was talking to it, did you see?” Time gave a reluctant nod, prompting Wild to continue faintly, “In my era, there are legends of– of a voice that sometimes echoes from the sword.” 

“Yes, I…think all of us have heard of something like that,” Four mused, one hand tucked beneath his chin. 

“And if he was talking to it, and seemed to…I don’t know, be familiar with the sword and was distressed when it burned him, beyond just physical pain–” Wild shrugged. “In my opinion, all of that just seems to say that we don’t have all of the facts. Maybe there were runes, and they did something, and– and now he’s confused and scared and doesn’t know what to do.”

“You may be right,” Time muttered, fingertips pressed against his forehead. “But I still think it is best to be wary of him.” He paused. Hyrule was murmuring something to Sky, searching in his pouch as he did so, and Time sighed heavily, his gaze darkening. “Anyway, no matter if he is telling the truth or not, I suppose we ought to bring him with us. He’s… clearly not in a good state right now, and I don’t trust him enough to just leave him on his own.” 

Four felt a rush of relief at Time’s words, though he didn’t know why. The only thing he was fully certain of was that his gut twisted into knots at the mere thought of leaving this boy behind. 

He stepped away from Time and knelt next to Twilight, who held Sky against his chest while Hyrule tended to his hand. Sky was still crying softly, his head tucked into the crook of Twilight’s neck, and Four was startled at the strange, soft concern on the rancher’s face.

“Twi?” he whispered, daring to glance at the burn streaking across Sky’s palm and wrist in a gory display as Hyrule unfurled a roll of bandages. A wave of nausea overcame him at the sight, and he looked quickly away again, suddenly aware that the rancher’s gaze was on him. Four faltered, trying to piece his words together unsuccessfully for a moment. “What’s… going on with him?” 

Twilight shook his head gently, the movement ruffling Sky’s hair just slightly. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “But–” He cut himself off, a multitude of expressions flashing over his face as if he was deciding whether to add something else. “I don’t know why,” he said finally, his voice rough, “but I feel this strange urge to… protect him.”  

That was unexpected. Four felt his eyes widening, and he rocked back on his heels, gaze shifting to Sky. The boy’s face was twisted in discomfort as Hyrule cleaned his wound, his eyes squeezed tightly shut with a faint look of delirium on his countenance. 

But there was something else about him, something– recognizable. 

Four just couldn’t place exactly what. 

“Do you think–” He hesitated, not meeting Twilight’s eyes. “Do you think what he said is true?” 

The rancher hummed, appearing caught off-guard by the question. “I don’t know,” he mumbled after a moment, shifting Sky slightly in his arms. “I don’t fully understand all of it. He…claimed he’s one of us, and everything he was saying seemed to imply that he knows us. I mean, he knows our names, he was addressing us like it was familiar to him… but the Master Sword confuses me. If he really is one of us and carries our spirit, why would it burn him? And if he isn’t one of us, if he’s lying, then how did the sword get up here in the first place?” 

“I don’t know,” Four answered honestly, then bit his lip. “But something makes me think we should trust him.” He glanced over his shoulder at Time, who was holding a whispered discussion with Warriors at one end of the cavern. “Old man doesn’t trust him at all, but I think he’s just naturally suspicious or something.” 

Twilight’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “Or something.” He swallowed and looked down at Sky, who had finally gone quiet, a few tears still visible on his cheeks. “But I have the same feeling as you. He just…there’s something about him that feels–” 

“Familiar.” 

The smith and rancher glanced over at Hyrule, who had spoken, in surprise. “Yeah,” Twilight replied slowly, watching as Hyrule ducked his head and went back to bandaging Sky’s hand. “I mean, Hylia knows I didn’t trust him at first, but when he– went insane–”

“Something clicked,” Four put in. “Like you didn’t want him hurt.” 

“Yeah.” 

Hyrule threw a glance at Time and Warriors. “I doubt they’ll warm up to him anytime soon.” 

“No, probably not.” Twilight sighed heavily, shaking his head a little. “And…I mean, for right now I’m not sure if he really is one of us, because of the Master Sword rejecting him and all, but at the very least I believe his motives are good.”  

“What’d the old man say about him?” Hyrule piped up hesitantly, tying the bandage off around Sky’s hand and digging through his pouch for another potion. 

“That we’re taking him with us,” Four answered, noting the odd relief that came across both the rancher and traveler’s faces, seemingly the same relief he himself had felt when Time said that. “He says he’s not in a state to be left alone, and… he doesn’t trust him enough to leave him here, either.” 

“Sounds about right,” Twilight said, his tone half-jesting as he looked fondly towards the old man before glancing back down at Sky. “How’s his hand looking, Roolie?” 

“It’s pretty bad right now, but it’ll heal.” Hyrule located the potion he was searching for and uncorked it, checking the contents. “It’ll be pretty sore for a while, but potions will help a lot. Do you think you can help him sit up?” 

Twilight nodded, supporting Sky’s back with one hand and then patting his cheek lightly with the other as he shifted the boy against his shoulder. “Hey, are you awake…?” 

The boy stirred, mumbling something unintelligible, and then his lashes fluttered, parting to reveal clear blue eyes rimmed with faint bags. He stared up at Twilight, then Four, before finally his gaze flicked to Hyrule and the bottle of potion he held. “That for me?” he said sluggishly, voice thick as Twilight helped him to sit up. 

“Yeah,” the traveler responded softly, offering the bottle. “It should help with your hand.” 

Sky nodded, fumbling to take the potion and then swallowing it carefully. “Thank you,” he said roughly, handing the bottle back to Hyrule. There was a pause, and he grimaced, lips rolling together. “I’m…sorry about what happened just now. It was–” 

“Don’t apologize,” a voice interrupted him, coming from behind Four.

Legend. 

Sky’s mouth snapped shut, his gaze flicking up to look at the veteran with a hesitant sadness in his eyes. Legend took a few steps to stand beside Four, arms folded over his chest as he pointedly avoided meeting any of the others’ gazes. “What I mean to say is– we’ve all had episodes like that. Well… maybe not to that extent, but–”

“Legend,” hissed Hyrule, his eyes cutting towards Sky in dismay, but Sky just gave a half-smile.

“It’s okay,” he said thickly, pressing the palm of one hand to his forehead for a moment before he started to get up. “I– I don’t mind.”

Four watched him carefully, noting the brotherly way Sky touched Twilight’s arm as he struggled to push to his feet, the way his mouth curled softly upwards when Hyrule and Legend leaned over to assist, and it occurred to him that the boy really didn’t mind Legend’s snark– as if he was used to it. 

As if he had seen it before. 

A chill ran up Four’s spine at the thought as Sky drew a shuddering breath, his bandaged hand clutched close to his chest. “I’m okay now,” he all but whispered, swallowing discreetly and propping himself against the wall. “I… hopefully I won’t lose my senses like that again.” 

Four was about to say something, but Legend beat him to it, fingers twitching at his sides before he gave Sky an unexpected pat on the shoulder. “If you do,” the veteran said roughly, looking everywhere but Sky’s face, “we won’t let you go through it alone.” 

Legend stepped hastily away, moving towards Time and Warriors and joining their discussion in a low voice, but Four didn’t miss the warm look that flashed over Sky’s countenance at the veteran’s words. That same soft familiarity as before; a flicker of brotherly love before it was eclipsed by a solemn expression. 

The chill gripped Four’s spine again, though this time its icy fingers didn’t leave. He bit the inside of his cheek and turned away, unable to shake the feeling that this strange boy was telling the truth, that perhaps they had all known him before.

He just wished he could know for certain. 

<><><>

Pain throbbed through Sky’s hand in radiating waves, but he did his best to ignore it where he stood propped against the wall. Legend had returned from speaking to Time and Warriors and hovered dutifully nearby with Wind, though Sky wasn’t sure exactly why. If the chain didn’t remember him, they had no reason to trust him, yet for the most part they had all been so… normal, treating him with care and kindness like nothing had ever changed. He had probably gotten snot and tears all over Twilight’s tunic during his… whatever that had been, but the rancher hadn’t seemed to care, instead holding him even tighter, his fingers carding through Sky’s hair as he sobbed into Twilight’s chest. 

It didn’t make sense. 

Sky’s gaze slid towards Time, who still stood at the back of the cavern, listening to Hyrule, Four, and Wild as they whispered to him aggressively. Warriors had moved away from the old man and now stood somewhat close to Sky, having what looked to be a heated discussion with Twilight, the Master Sword still cradled in his arms. 

If Sky was being honest with himself, they were probably all talking about him. The thought made him slightly uneasy, but there wasn’t much he could do about it besides wait for the inevitable outcome. 

He leaned his head back against the wall of the cave, his skull pounding. His bedroll sounded so nice right now, but he had no idea if he would even be allowed to return to camp with the chain, suspicious as the old man seemed. That at least made sense to him, more than the kindness with which the rest of the chain was treating him. They had all been wary of him at first, even callous, but something had definitely changed after Fi burned him, after he fell sobbing and choking to the floor. He cringed to think about it, uncontrollable as the grief had been, but perhaps seeing him so vulnerable had softened some of the chain enough that they trusted him now. 

And… what was that Twilight had said as Sky floated in and out of consciousness borne from pain? 

“I feel this strange urge to protect him.” 

Maybe… maybe there was hope, then, that they would remember who he was. After all, it had only been a little while since he accidentally activated the runes and sent light exploding through the cavern, and already some of the chain seemed to be, if not fully remembering him, at least finding him somewhat familiar. 

Or so he hoped.

Sky was pulled from his thoughts at the sound of footsteps and looked over to see Hyrule, Four, and Wild moving towards him, the latter hovering behind the younger heroes and looking uncertain. “Time says we’re going to help you back to camp,” Hyrule said breathlessly, then corrected himself, “or at least Twilight and Wars are. But we’re coming too.”

Sky’s heart leaped in his chest at the news. Maybe he had been wrong and the old man wasn’t as hopeless a case as he seemed. 

“From there he’s going to figure out what to do,” Four added. “But he doesn’t want us to leave you here since you’re hurt.” 

The smith didn’t say it, but Sky read it in his face– that wasn’t the only reason Time was letting him come to camp with them. 

He didn’t want to bring Sky simply because he was hurt. No, he wanted to bring him because then he could keep Sky in his sight, leaving him unable to accomplish whatever dark intents Time must be imagining him to have. 

Clearly this would take work. 

“Okay then,” Sky said aloud, flashing a smile at Four before he shifted his gaze to Hyrule and Wild. The Champion was still hovering, watching Sky uncertainly, but there was no hostility in his eyes, just curiosity. 

Sky offered him the warmest look he could muster, even as a shoot of pain raced through his hand. “I appreciate everything you all have done,” he said faintly. “I mean, I know you have no reason to trust me right now, but… you all seem to, for some reason.” His gaze flicked to Time. “Or– most of you do, at least. So, um… thanks.” 

The three in front of him relaxed, and Wild slowly returned his smile before glancing at Twilight and Warriors. “I think they’re getting ready to help you down,” he said quietly, fiddling with his gloves. 

Sky looked towards the rancher and captain as they turned towards him, wary of what he would see in Warriors’ face, and was pleasantly surprised to see that it had softened just slightly. The captain returned Sky’s gaze with less hostility than before, although some traces of mistrust still lingered. 

“Are you strong enough to walk, do you think?” Twilight asked, tilting his head at Sky. 

“I… I think so. Still a little shaky, but I’m not helpless.” Sky drew a breath, glancing down at his bandaged hand. A bit of blood was seeping through the cloth, and he pressed his lips together, looking up again with a grimace. “I still might need a guiding hand or something, though.” 

The rancher’s mouth curled into a smile. “Well, that’s what me and Wars are here for. Here, you can put an arm around my shoulders and he’ll watch your other side.” 

Sky was just about to step forward to obey when he remembered something that made him pause.  

“Um–” He bit his lip before continuing, doing his best to speak calmly, though there was a faint tremor to his voice. “What about– what about the Master Sword? I can carry it, I… I’ve got the sheath–” 

“Ah, yes. The sheath,” Time said from the shadows at the back of the cave. “If you’ll be so kind as to give that to the captain.”  

Sky’s throat was painful as he turned his head towards the old man. “What do you mean?” he all but croaked, mouth parchingly dry. 

“There’s no way I’m letting you hold onto it,” Time replied in a slightly scathing tone. “It burned you, in case you’d forgotten, which can only mean your intentions are far from honorable.” 

“I’m– I’m not–” 

“Warriors,” Time interrupted coldly, ignoring Sky’s protests and turning to look at the captain. “If you’ll be so good as to continue holding on to the Master Sword for now, once he relinquishes the sheath?” 

Sky fell silent, his chest burning as Warriors gave Time a dutiful nod before turning towards Sky expectantly. This wasn’t right, they couldn’t take Fi from him, she– 

She… burned him, didn’t she?  

So maybe– maybe it was better for someone else to hold on to her, after all. 

A lump rose in Sky’s throat at the thought, but he couldn’t deny the fact that currently the Master Sword, that Fi, had forgotten him as well as the chain. Reluctantly he unbuckled her sheath from his back with his good hand, offering it to Warriors, who took it and slipped the Master Sword inside. Sky turned away as the captain buckled Fi onto his own back, his vision blurring just slightly before he shook his head and corrected it. 

This would all smooth out soon, he thought as an attempt at self-reassurance. There was no way the effect of the runes would last for long.

Right?

Because no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t brush off the feeling that this would be his new life now. Broken. Mistrusted.  

Forgotten. 

Sky bit the inside of his cheek so hard he tasted blood, specks collecting at the edges of his vision before he gathered himself and offered a painful smile to Twilight. 

“I guess we’d better get going then, right?” he asked the rancher faintly. 

Twilight returned his smile, then ducked under Sky’s arm as promised and began helping him down the passageway, towards the late evening air at the other end. Away from the cold, musty dampness of the cavern.  

A bitter metallic taste filled his mouth as they walked, and Sky drew several deep breaths to steady his fluctuating emotions. 

He didn’t look back. 

<><><>

Time was the last to leave the cavern, watching as Twilight and Warriors helped Sky towards the cave entrance, the rest of the chain clustering close behind as whispers passed between them. The old man’s brow furrowed in disconcertment as the group disappeared from sight around a corner of the passage. He cast a final glance around the cavern, at the dripping stone walls coated in moss, at the strange raised pedestal on the floor, at the small stain of blood on the ground where the strange boy had lain, and his frown grew deeper.

Something wasn’t right about all of this.  

Time checked a final time that no one had left any gear behind and then followed the others slowly out of the cave, lost in thought. Out of all the muddled things in his brain, he knew one thing for certain– it didn’t matter what the rest of the boys said. 

He didn’t trust this newcomer as far as he could throw him. 

Chapter Text

Sky was all but starving when they finally got back to camp, hunger making him feel nauseatingly lightheaded. “We’ll fix you up with something,” Twilight reassured him as he helped Sky sit down. “Some of us hadn’t finished eating ourselves when we headed up the mountain.” 

The chosen hero looked at him carefully, genuine curiosity prompting him to ask, “Why did you all go up the mountain, anyway?” 

Twilight faltered, his expression shuttering before he shrugged and got to his feet again. “I don’t really know,” he answered honestly, seeming uncomfortable and rubbing the back of his neck. “But I guess it was a good thing since we found you.” 

“I’m not sure all of you consider that a good thing.” Sky looked pointedly over at Time. 

“Eh, he’ll come around eventually, don’t worry. If—” The rancher hesitated, biting his lip as his gaze shifted sideways. “—If what you say is true, and we did know you before but there was a spell, or runes, or something…” He drew a breath, face scrunching in frustration. “What I’m trying to say is, I think the majority of us believe your story, at least to some extent.” 

Sky’s mouth curled into a half smile, and he tipped his head slightly in a gesture of gratitude. “Thank you,” he said softly, and the rancher’s eyes crinkled with warmth. “I appreciate it.” 

Twilight was about to say something else, but was interrupted by the veteran as he dumped his gear on the ground without ceremony. “Can we stop being weirdly sentimental for five seconds?” Legend groused from behind Twilight, rolling his eyes. “Because I don’t know about the rest of you, but I barely got to eat five bites of soup, and I’m hungry.” 

“Cool it, vet, you’re not the only one.” Warriors approached Legend, characteristic swagger in his step, and Sky averted his gaze from the sword strapped to the captain’s back. “I didn’t even start on my soup because someone spilled his own all over my scarf.” He cast a glare at Wind. 

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” the sailor said defensively, hands lifting in supplication. “If you didn’t wear that stupid thing everywhere I wouldn’t have tripped on it—”

“Oh, please, it’s not that long, you’re just clumsy—”

“Boys!” Time’s voice brought a swift halt to the conversation, and Wind and Warriors exchanged guilty looks as the old man sighed. “We have more pressing matters at hand than stained clothing,” he said wearily, one hand pressed to his forehead. “Please, compose yourselves.” 

“I’ll— I’ll go reheat the soup for anyone who needs it.” Wild was the first to break the awkward silence that followed, turning towards the still-smoldering fire the chain had apparently left behind, and Twilight shot Sky an apologetic look before hastening to help. 

The others began silently attending  to their own tasks, a sort of heavy dread descending upon them, and Sky lowered his eyes to the ground, feeling the weight of Time’s gaze on his back. All of this was just so stupid, really, and it was all his fault. If he hadn’t gone off on his own, none of this would have happened, and— 

There was a light touch to his arm, and Sky looked up to find Wind staring at him from a foot or two away. 

“Um, hi,” the sailor blurted, fidgeting slightly, his eyes darting from side to side. “Could I…ask you a question?” 

Sky gave a light shrug, doing his best to hide the numbness in his eyes. “I don’t see why not.”

“What’s the white— the cape thingy?” Wind gestured awkwardly to Sky’s shoulders, his other hand rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Oh, this?” Sky felt his face softening as he grasped one corner of his sailcloth and held it up. At Wind’s nod, he tilted his head a little, a slight smile curving his lips. “This is my sailcloth. Zel— my, um, my Zelda made it for me, in case I fall or jump from a great height.” He felt his face warm as he brushed the soft cloth against one cheek. “It’s… nice for comfort sometimes, too.”

“It’s beautiful,” Wind breathed, one hand creeping towards the cloth before he seemed to remember himself and withdrew it. “Oh, um, I’m sorry—”

“It’s okay,” Sky told him gently, remembering the first times the chain had been curious about his sailcloth. “You can touch it, I don’t mind.” 

Wind gave him a tiny smile, then reached out again and pressed his fingers lightly against the white fabric. “You said— it’s from your Zelda?” he asked hesitantly, fingers bunching in the cloth.

Sky nodded.

“I’m just… I think we’re all kinda confused by this whole thing.” Wind pulled his hand away, eyes narrowing in a gesture Sky recognized— he was thinking hard. “Cause you said you’re one of us, right? And…that we knew you before?”

Another nod. Sky wondered where the sailor was going with this. 

“I guess it’s just a little hard to believe, after that.” Wind pointed bluntly at Sky’s bandaged hand, and the chosen hero winced slightly. “And especially cause none of us remember you at all.” 

“Yeah.” Sky’s voice was thick. “I can imagine that makes it more difficult to believe me.” 

“I– I don’t know, though.” Wind studied Sky’s face carefully, head tilted. “You seem pretty nice, and I think Twilight and Four and Roolie already like you a lot. And Legend, though he would probably deny it.” 

Sky wet his lips, chest suddenly tight as he stared at his hands. “I bet he would,” he said hoarsely. “He’s not one for letting his soft side show, is he?” 

“Not really,” the sailor hummed before a poorly-disguised look of disconcertment crossed his face.  He cleared his throat, seeming uncomfortably aware that Sky had again shown familiarity about the chain. “Anyway, I should— Wild might need help, or something.” He gestured awkwardly behind him, taking a step backwards. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” Sky swallowed, pulling his sailcloth tight around his shoulders as Wind slipped away in what appeared to be relief. He closed his eyes as the numbness descended over him again. 

This was okay. He would be fine. He repeated the words to himself in a mantra in a vain attempt to still the worry eating at his heart. 

But what if they really never remembered him? What if this mistrust, this hesitation whenever he showed he was familiar with them continued, until he couldn’t bear it anymore and forced himself to leave? 

But— no. It wouldn’t do to dwell on it. Sky blocked the very notion from his mind, unwilling to give it further purchase. He sighed heavily and was about to snuggle further into his sailcloth when a new fear occurred to him, brought on by his most beloved possession. 

What if Zelda doesn’t know who I am?

A wave of positive ice swept over him, and he shuddered, breath whistling loose in rasping pants. 

No. 

No, he wouldn’t think about that. 

He couldn’t. 

Sky squeezed his eyes shut tight, but the image this new fear had conjured didn’t leave his mind. It was practically burned on the back of his eyelids, searing into his brain over and over and over again. 

Zelda, looking at him with absolutely no recognition in her eyes at all, before turning away as if he wasn’t even there. 

A sound of panic rose unbidden within him at the thought. Sky kept it firmly locked behind his teeth, his gaze unfocused as he rocked unconsciously back and forth, sailcloth bunched around his fingers. 

He had thought his situation was bad before, but the notion that Zelda could forget him as well made it worse. 

So much worse. 

Before he could even consider what he was doing, Sky had unclasped his sailcloth from around his neck and stuffed it deep into his pack where he couldn’t see it. He turned away, eyes glassy with sudden tears, but the image still played in his head, over and over, like a broken record doomed never to cease. 

He couldn’t help but feel that it was merely a foreboding of what was to come. 

<><><> 

The chain stayed where they were for the remainder of the day, and that night after dinner– chicken and rice made by Wild with Four and Wind’s eager assistance– Time and Warriors stoked up a fire. Sky lingered by his gear for as long as he could, prolonging joining the others around the fire, but eventually knew that if he waited any longer it would seem evident he was stalling. He seated himself between Four and Legend on the grass, knees tucked to his chest, bandaged hand angled carefully to avoid contact with anything.  

Wind and Hyrule were roasting marshmallows across from him, a strange food that most of the chain had never heard of until Wind introduced it to them. If Sky remembered correctly, his grandma had a special recipe for it— or something. He didn’t trust his memory too much at the moment, not that it had ever been exceptional before. 

He gazed into the leaping flames in front of him, feeling that he was back where he belonged, that everything was normal, while simultaneously feeling that he didn’t belong here at all, that maybe he never had. He could sense the slow, thick tension spreading around the circle as the chain sat in silence, faces lit aglow by the blaze, and folded his lips tightly together, lost in thought. 

They trusted him, but they didn’t. They wanted to accept him, but they didn’t. They believed his intentions were good, but they didn’t. He could tell that they didn’t really know what to believe, and if he was being honest, he didn’t blame them. If he was in their situation, he would probably feel the same. 

Sky tucked his chin over his knees, listening to the crackling snap of the fire and the distant thrum of crickets. It was a still night, albeit a bit chilly, and he missed the weight of his sailcloth, but at the same time he didn’t want to even be near it. He didn’t want to be reminded of the newfound fear that his childhood best friend, the love of his life, might not know who he was. He– 

Wait. Someone was— someone was speaking to him.

With a start Sky’s head snapped upright, his eyes scanning the figures grouped around the fire before they landed on Hyrule. The traveler was watching him expectantly, and Sky felt the weight of the others’ gazes upon him as they waited for an answer to whatever question Hyrule had asked. 

Sky cleared his throat, curling further into himself and feeling his face grow warm beneath their stares. “...I’m sorry, what did you say?” 

“Your hand,” Hyrule repeated, brow furrowing as he watched the chosen hero. “How’s it feeling?” 

“Oh. It’s— it still hurts, but it’s not too bad.” Sky shifted uncomfortably, wishing Hyrule hadn’t brought up the reminder that the Master Sword itself had burned him. He could feel Time watching him again and wanted nothing more than to sink into the earth. 

“That’s good.” The traveler pulled his roasting stick away from the flames, nose wrinkling as he blew on a marshmallow that had caught on fire. “I’ll check on it tomorrow and rebandage it, but it should be okay with a few more potions.” 

Sky nodded, throat suddenly too clogged for words, and rested his chin atop his knees again, gaze returning to the fire. The chain lapsed into uncomfortable silence once more, the only noise coming from the crackle of the flames and the distant chirp of insects as a light wind stirred the nearby trees. 

“So– what’s the plan for tomorrow, old man?” Legend blurted after the quiet had lasted for far too long, slumping forward with his fist pressed into his cheek. His eyes were half-lidded as they flicked towards Time, waiting for his answer. 

Time started as if he had been dragged abruptly from his thoughts, sitting up slightly as firelight lit his face in sharp contrast. “I suppose we’ll see how… how he is doing.” He gestured towards Sky without deigning to look at him. “If he’s better we’ll resume traveling again.” 

“Um, about that–” Wind spoke up around a mouthful of marshmallow, and sudden panic clawed at Sky’s chest as his eyes snapped to look at the sailor. “Exactly how long is he gonna be traveling with us, anyway?” Wind asked bluntly after swallowing, eyes wide. 

Sky sucked in a breath. 

Clearly Time hadn’t been expecting the question either, for his mouth swung open and then fell shut again before he folded his hands together in a telltale sign that he was thinking. A few moments of silence passed, broken only by Wind and Hyrule whisper-arguing about who got to eat the last marshmallow, and then Time finally spoke up, his voice heavy. 

“I think I owe it to you all to be honest—” He hesitated, glancing towards Sky with a blank face. “And to you, I suppose, since it concerns you. But… I’ve been thinking about this, and I don’t believe we should just let him go off on his own in the foreseeable future.” 

Sky’s heart thudded against his ribs– in truth, he had imagined Time would wish to be rid of him as soon as was possible. But for him to imply that Sky should travel with them for a while– well, that meant something, didn’t it? 

Time’s next words all but trampled his hope into the ground. 

“I’m not sure why all of you developed a sudden trust for him,” the old man said sharply, gaze flitting around the circle, “but I, for one, am not going to throw caution to the wind so easily. We have to keep an eye on him, so I’ll allow him to travel with us for an extended period.” 

“But–” Four looked uneasy. “But he acts like he knows us already. I mean, that’s got to count for something, right?” 

“Oh, does it? Or had you forgotten about where he got that burn from?” 

“Old man–” Twilight started to say, but Time held up a hand, silencing him. 

“The Master Sword is meant to be wielded by one of us,” he said in a low voice after a moment, staring into the fire. “No evil may touch it, you all know this. I’d never… quite understood what that meant before, but I think I do now— especially seeing as we now have proof.” He waved a hand in Sky’s direction. “The sword burns those who it does not trust.”

“Just because it burned him doesn’t mean he’s evil,” Legend protested, much to Sky’s astonishment.  

“Perhaps not.” Time rubbed his chin with one hand. “But what it does mean is that we shouldn’t fully trust him for the time being, not until we can figure out precisely why it burned him.” He glanced at Sky, brows lowering. “And until that point comes, Sky, I want you to know that I’m keeping an eye on you.” 

“Literally,” Warriors mumbled under his breath. 

“I–” Sky swallowed, face flaming as he shredded a piece of grass in his fingers to ground himself. “I understand that, it’s only fair. I mean, you all have no reason to put any trust in me, you don’t– you don’t even remember who I am. But… do you believe anything I’ve said? Anything at all? Because Twi– um, Twilight told me that most of you believe at least part of it. I…” He drew a breath, then lifted his chin and stared Time in the face. “I guess what I’m mostly asking is, what are your thoughts in particular about what I’ve said?” 

Time blinked, seeming slightly taken aback by the question, but after a moment he inclined his head slightly. “Well, before I can answer that I ought to repeat to you what you have told us,” he said coolly. “So that you can know where I’m coming from.” 

That made sense, Sky supposed, but it didn’t ease the dread beginning to churn in his stomach. 

“You told us– not very clearly, I might add, although that can be understood considering your state at the time– that you are one of us and have been traveling with us for months, that you found a cave with runes inside, the runes… exploded, and you awoke to find us acting like we didn’t know you, that we’d somehow forgotten who you were.” Time gave him a level gaze, awaiting any denial from Sky on what he had said. When Sky didn’t speak, he went on, “And, in my personal opinion– though I’m sure the others feel differently– that’s just about the most ridiculous load of nonsense I’ve ever heard.”

Sky’s throat tightened. He should have expected as much. 

“But,” Time conceded after a moment, “the smith was right. You do seem to know us, to… an uncomfortable extent, I would say, for someone who we’ve never seen before. And your tunic– there’s no doubt it resembles our own. But, in all honesty, I should imagine there are many places where a green tunic can be purchased. And I refuse to forget about the sword treating you as though you were evil, although if what you said was true, I suppose it could be because of some spell, yet we just can’t know for sure.” 

There was a tense silence, and then Time sighed, shaking his head. “So, I’m sorry, but for the time being— no matter what the others may say—”

“—You don’t plan on trusting me.” Sky’s voice was quiet, even-keeled as he stared into the slowly-dying fire. 

Time’s gaze fell upon him like a shard of ice. 

“No. I don't.” 

“I… understand.” 

Time started to open his mouth again, but seemed to think better of it and looked away. Another silence, rife with unspoken words, stretched across the chain, growing thicker and more uncomfortable as the wind went still in the distance. The quiet spread like a plague, roaring in Sky’s ears and skull until finally he couldn’t take it any more. 

He stood, joints popping, and purposefully avoided the others’ gazes, turning away from the fire. “I’m heading to bed now,” he informed them, voice ragged. “I don’t want to bother you all any longer.” 

He didn’t wait for a reply, instead moving towards his gear with purpose as fatigue overtook him. He just wanted to collapse into his bedroll and succumb to darkness, away from the mess he had caused, away from the looks and whispers and uncertainty and fear. Or even better, perhaps he would wake up tomorrow and discover that this had all been a horrible dream and he could laugh with the chain about it over breakfast. 

Unlikely. 

A lump rose in Sky’s throat as he knelt beside his pack, fumbling with his sleeping roll, but the knot he had tied early that morning refused to budge. As he worked to loosen it with tired fingers, his eyes half-lidded with drowsiness, a shadow suddenly fell over the ground in front of him. 

A chill of ice ran down his spine. 

“Time,” he murmured hoarsely, pausing what he was doing but not looking up. He didn’t have to see to know just who had followed him. 

“I thought I might as well warn you privately,” the old man asserted, his voice cool and collected, but Sky was no fool— he could detect the biting undertone. “Look up at me, if you will.” 

Sky’s jaw clenched, but he did as he was told, tilting his chin to look up at the older hero. “So warn me, then.” 

“Don’t treat this lightly. I believe you’re dangerous, boy,” Time said quietly, shadows playing across his face as he glared at Sky with arms folded. “Like I said earlier, I don’t know if you’ve been telling the truth, but there is some strange power in that small frame of yours. I know not what, exactly, but it is there.”

Sky waited, fingers clenched in dread of what Time would say next. 

The old man leaned forward slightly so he was all but looming over Sky, barely controlled anger burning in his eyes.  “In light of that, I would just like to let you know this.” His tone was colder than a field of ice, and Sky felt suddenly frozen down to his very marrow.

“If you dare to hurt any of my boys,” Time finished, his voice soft but deadly like a viper poised to kill, “then you can believe that I will not rest until you are dead.” 

Sky stared him straight in the eye, unwavering in his gaze. 

“I think I could’ve guessed that already, old man.”

Time’s eyes hardened, a muscle in his jaw tightening. His face was stony as he turned away without a second look, heading back to the dying fire and the waiting chain. 

Sky’s lungs burned, the lump in his throat building as he drew a shaking breath, but he refused to give in to the hot tears gathering in his eyes, dragging one sleeve over them with aggression. 

Sleep. That’s what he needed. Sleep. 

After a few more minutes of blindly tugging at the knot, he finally managed to yank his sleeping roll loose and spread it out on the ground, his throat tight as he tugged off his boots and gloves and set them carefully aside. The wind picked up again, plucking at his clothes and hair as it howled past, and Sky shivered as he climbed beneath his blanket, but it wasn’t from the cold. 

He rolled onto his side, turning his back on the fire and the figures grouped around it, and after tossing and turning, Sky finally fell into a sleep devoid of dreams or nightmares or anything else.

There was only cold darkness, above and below him, consuming his body bit by bit until there was nothing left. 

Chapter Text

The next morning brought heavy mist and a smell of rain as thunderclouds churned overhead, which didn’t do much to lighten Sky’s despondent mood. He did his best to conceal it, sitting down to breakfast with the others as if everything was normal, as if he was fine. The rest of the chain seemed in low spirits as well, which Sky figured must be due to the weather, though he couldn’t tell for sure. 

After everyone had finished eating and separated to pack up the last of their gear, Hyrule beckoned the chosen hero over to him to check his wound. 

“How’s it feeling?” the traveler asked as he began carefully unwinding the old bandage from Sky’s fingers. 

“It’s a little better, I think.” Sky flinched even as he said the words. The bandage was sticking slightly to the wound, sending stabs of pain through his hand as Hyrule worked the fabric loose. 

“Sorry,” he said apologetically. 

“Not your fault,” Sky breathed through gritted teeth as the bandage peeled away from his raw skin. 

Hyrule finally pulled it completely free and shifted Sky’s hand in his, fingers hovering just over the gaping wound. It was still nauseating to look at, shredded layers of skin curling around each other with that same glistening wetness visible beneath. Sky averted his gaze, feeling slightly sick to his stomach– he’d never really been one for handling wounds well. During his journey, he had just swallowed potions and kept going without bothering to stop and properly treat the wound, so the sight of gore still made him nauseous. 

“It’s still looking pretty bad,” Hyrule mumbled, brow furrowed in thought. “Let me try a bit of magic on it.” 

Sky let himself relax as the traveler shut his eyes and concentrated, hands hovering just over Sky’s wounds. His palms began to glow in a display Sky had seen many times before, a gentle, tingling warmth passing from his hands into Sky’s as Hyrule began sealing up the deeper aspects of the wound. 

As Sky sat patiently waiting, magic coursing through his palm and slowly knitting his ruptured skin back together, he became aware of something odd. 

His spine– his spine was starting to sting as if tiny needles were dancing along it.  

Sky’s brow furrowed. He had experienced Hyrule’s healing magic before, and it had never done that.

He did his best to ignore the sensation, figuring maybe a bug had crawled into his clothing and was stinging him, but as the minutes passed, the feeling only grew more intense, spreading up to the back of his neck, pricking into his collarbone until Sky was fairly twitching with suppressed pain.  

Just when he didn’t think he could stand it anymore, Hyrule’s eyes fluttered open, the light in his palms fading as he leaned forward to survey his handiwork on Sky’s wound so far. Almost immediately the stinging sensation stopped, and Sky released a breath of baffled relief. 

What was that? 

“I’ve sealed up the worst parts of the wound,” Hyrule said, jarring him back to reality. “I think it should heal up on its own now pretty quickly, but I’ll try my magic just a bit more.” He lifted his hands and was about to resume his magic when suddenly he paused, gaze falling on Sky’s neck. 

“Um– was that there before…?” 

“Was what where?” Sky stared at him, eyes wide as an irrational stab of panic jolted through his body. 

“That thing.” Hyrule pointed at the base of Sky’s neck, and his hands flew up to feel the skin there, but he found nothing abnormal.  

“I– I can’t–” 

“I don’t think you can feel it.” The traveler hesitated, frowning, eyes still fixed on Sky’s neck. “It almost looks like a letter but I– I can’t quite tell.” 

A letter? 

Sky sat frozen in perplexity for a moment before he scrambled to his feet and moved quickly away from Hyrule, making his way over to his gear and falling to his knees beside it. He snatched his sacred shield up and flipped it over, staring into the polished metal surface in growing horror. 

Hyrule was right. 

At the base of Sky’s throat, barely visible beneath the fabric of his collar, an odd marking was stamped– a pair of lines with a half-circle woven through them, three dots hovering just overtop. The mark was deep red in color, standing out sharply in contrast to his neck, but it was the only abnormal thing visible on his skin. 

Sky swallowed, not understanding quite what this meant but somehow feeling that he should hide it from the others. He pulled the flaps of his collar closer together in an effort to conceal the mark, but to his chagrin it was still just slightly visible. 

He would need his sailcloth to cover it fully. 

Dread twinged in Sky’s gut, but after a moment he slowly unbuckled his pack and dug through it for his sailcloth, pulling the soft white fabric loose. He stared at it for a long moment, a lump swelling in his throat, and after a moment threw it around his shoulders. Its familiar scent, a mix of Zelda’s perfume and the flowers and air of Skyloft, washed over him, and he sat breathing it in for a moment before finally fastening the clasp. 

He tugged it upwards just slightly, enough to push the flaps of his collar together so they concealed the mark on his neck, and exhaled slowly. 

It’s fine. 

He was fine. 

Sky made his way back to Hyrule, who was waiting for him with a little bit of confusion on his face. “Sorry about that,” Sky told him pleasantly, taking a seat in the grass beside the traveler. “It was– the thing was just a, um, bug bite.” 

“Bug bite?” 

Hyrule didn’t look convinced, but Sky nodded anyway in response. 

“Okay, well…” The traveler considered him for a moment, chewing on his lower lip. “I was thinking– I can try to heal the rest of your hand but it might take a little while. Would you prefer I just bandage it up again and give you another potion?” 

Sky thought of the strange stinging on his skin and suppressed a shiver. “Potion sounds fine,” he answered, perhaps a little too quickly. 

Hyrule nodded, twisting around to dig through his pack, and Sky let out a shaky exhale when the traveler wasn’t looking. 

He didn’t think Hyrule believed his lie about the mark for a moment, but there wasn’t much else he could do. 

Especially because he himself had no idea what it was. 

<><><>

The sky was fairly roiling by the time the chain finally got all their gear together and prepared to move on, and Legend saw a twinge of worry on Time’s face as he looked up at the churning clouds. “We’d better keep moving,” he addressed the group, turning back towards them. “Try to keep together, please.” 

He paused, eye falling upon the newest addition to their group, who was fumbling to put something– a whip, it looked like– into his pouch. Time watched him for a moment, eye narrowed, then leaned over to Warriors and said something to him in an undertone. 

Warriors nodded, not answering, and then circled around to the back of the group, where Legend assumed he was to keep an eye on Sky. 

In truth Legend didn’t understand why the old man was so unnerved. Sure, at first they had all been wary, but the newcomer was by no means dangerous . He… well, he looked too soft to even be able to wield a weapon, but something about him made Time as prickly as Warriors when he didn’t get his beauty sleep. 

Legend snickered at the thought as a gust of wind swept his hair back from his face. 

“Sure feels great out today, doesn’t it?” Wind called cheerfully to him over the roar of the wind, eyes crinkled in glee. Of course the sailor would love stormy weather, but Legend wasn’t too keen on it himself. 

He shrugged noncommittally. “If you say so.” 

Wind stuck his tongue out at him, and Legend returned the favor as Time did a final headcount. “Let’s go, boys!” he called over his shoulder, then turned and began leading the way across the plain, the others following closely behind. 

Legend trailed along towards the back of the group, eyes on the ground as he walked. He didn’t really feel like talking to anyone right now, not that the rest of the chain seemed up for it anyway— the gloomy weather and strange events of yesterday seemed to be affecting them all. 

Speaking of which— the newcomer. Legend cast his gaze discreetly to one side and was more than startled to discover Sky walking only a foot or two away from him, watching the brewing storm. His face was cast in profile against the slate-colored sky, blue eyes half-lidded as he walked lost in thought. 

Legend studied him inconspicuously for a few moments, considering. The boy really did look like one of them, and there was something about the way he carried himself that seemed fitting, that seemed– right. A kind of alertness that Legend recognized to belong to someone who had to be wary much of the time, an alertness he himself possessed. 

He had to be one of them, right? 

Anyway, not that he would ever admit it to anyone besides himself, but there was some strange soft spot that had arisen within Legend shortly after seeing Sky for the first time, as if– as if maybe they really had known each other before. Which seemed impossible, but at the same time he trusted this boy without even recognizing him, and, in his opinion, that was solid enough evidence. 

Because he rarely trusted anyone, but something deep in his gut told him that he could trust Sky, that he should trust him, and who was he to ignore it?  

Legend sighed, head dropping slightly as a sharp crack of thunder rolled overhead. 

“Are… are you okay?” 

The voice startled him, and he looked up to see Sky was watching him, wind stirring his golden-brown hair. Legend blinked at him, then scowled in spite of himself, kicking at a clump of grass and feeling his ears tinge pink in embarrassment. “Obviously. Why do you ask?” 

Sky hummed, gaze wandering ahead to the forest they were meandering towards. “You just looked sad, is all. I’ve rarely seen you show sadness before so I wanted to check that you were okay.” 

Legend was about to make a retort, but something about the remark caught him completely off-guard and he was silent, gears churning in his brain. Sky had made several comments already that showed he was completely familiar with the chain, but still, it was difficult to believe his story of having been with them for months when they couldn’t remember him at all. 

If it was true– which Legend was definitely inclined to believe– then it had to be harder for Sky then it was for them. Legend knew what it was like to start forgetting the faces of people you had once loved (not that the others quite knew about that), but he couldn’t imagine what it would be like to be… forgotten. Especially not by the chain, who he secretly viewed as family, even if wild horses themselves would never drag that fact from his mouth. 

He glanced towards Sky, and the boy returned his gaze with eyes that were full of numbness. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Legend told him instead of the retort he had originally wanted to make. He paused, then added, “With me, that is.” 

Sky’s lips folded together slightly. 

“You’re… saying something’s wrong with me.” 

“I mean–” Legend shrugged, gaze shifting towards the sky. “You don’t look happy. And I bet–” He paused, wetting his lips and feeling more than a little stupid. “–It can’t be easy having people forget you, right?” 

Sky stared at him, eyes blown wide in shock. “Does that mean you… believe me?” 

“Don’t tell anyone,” Legend muttered, kicking another clump of grass with vengeance. “But yeah. It’s too wild of a story to not believe you, and based on how you’ve been interacting with us… yeah. I do. I believe you.” 

“I– appreciate that,” Sky murmured, the strange white cape he wore whipping around him in another roar of wind. “It means a lot.” He paused, gaze flickering a bit before he exhaled and tilted his head at Legend. “You know… we were good friends before.” 

“We… were?” I’m not– I’m not good friends with anyone. 

“Yes.” Sky’s gaze was soft. “I was one of the few people you trusted, I think.”  

Legend swallowed, that strange soft spot in his chest growing a little and warming him from the inside out. He glanced tentatively at the boy beside him, and Sky met his eyes and offered a gentle smile. 

He looked away again a moment later, wind ruffling his hair, and thus didn’t notice when Legend smiled back. 

<><><>

Sky’s feet were already getting tired, and they had only been walking for thirty minutes, which was outrageous considering how out of breath he was. It seemed like they were moving a lot faster than they usually did, which made sense given the storm that, as of yet, hadn’t broken, but still. He was glad he was walking towards the back of the group so no one except for maybe Warriors, who was a few paces behind him, could hear him puffing and wheezing.

Sky wiped his forehead with one arm, half-wishing he had a stamina potion on him. As a distraction from his throbbing feet and tightening lungs, he thought back to his brief discussion with Legend a little while ago. Legend’s revelation that he actually believed Sky, and not just partly but fully, had been– surprising, to say the least. He would’ve expected that from Four or Hyrule at most, but not Legend, although he supposed it fit, given how close they had been before. 

Maybe that explained Time’s hostility to him, then, Sky reflected. They had never been particularly close– Sky’s love for the Master Sword, and Time’s hatred for it, had always created a distance between them. Maybe his mistrust now stemmed from their not exactly best friend relationship before. That made sense, didn’t it? If–

His thoughts stuttered abruptly to a halt as he became suddenly aware of a presence at his side. Sky turned his head, expecting to perhaps see Legend again, but was caught off guard upon seeing the Champion instead. “Oh… hello,” Sky said hesitantly, still unsure as to how Wild felt about him. 

Wild smiled slightly in reply but didn’t say anything, instead watching Sky’s face with an intense and rather unnerving scrutiny. Sky did his best to look nonchalant, trying to ignore the Champion’s stare, but after several minutes had gone by, he became uncomfortable enough to speak. 

“Um, sorry, is there something on my face?” he questioned, glancing at Wild uncertainly. “I just– I noticed you were staring, so–” 

“Oh.” Wild’s face turned bright red, and he scratched the back of his neck with one hand, looking away awkwardly. “I’m– I’m sorry,” he murmured apologetically after a moment. “I, ah, I have a bad habit of staring at people without realizing it.” 

Sky drew a breath. He had already been making comments to the rest of the chain that showed he was well acquainted with them, so there wasn’t really a reason to stop now. “I know,” he said softly after a second, inclining his head a little. “I was mostly just wondering what prompted it this time.” 

If Wild was caught off guard by Sky’s overly casual comment, he didn’t show it, instead shrugging and shoving his hands in his pockets as they continued walking. “It’s just–” He hesitated, mouth twitching slightly before his eyes shifted to look at the chosen hero again. “There’s something about your face.” 

“My face?” Sky blinked a little, unable to tell if that was good or bad. 

Wild wrinkled his nose, looking up at the clouds as a breeze lifted his bangs from his forehead. “I– don’t know exactly what it is, but something about it almost reminds me… of my Zelda.” 

Sky felt as if the Champion had just dealt him a swift kick to the ribs. 

“I– what?” he blurted, fumbling with the words as if he had suddenly lost his ability to speak.  

Wild shook his head, seeming frustrated with his previous statement. “You look like her,” he corrected himself, staring at the horizon. “That’s, uh, that’s what I meant to say. Not– not identical, but there’s something similar in both of you.” 

Sky was quiet for a moment, squinting into the wind as a few drops of rain began to fall around them. “I guess that’s a compliment,” he said after a moment, glancing at Wild. “Thank you.” 

But what does it mean, exactly? 

“It was.” Wild hesitated, mouth angling to one side. “And– see, what I’m trying to say is… I think it means you two are related, somehow.” His gaze slid towards Sky again, and Sky felt as if the Champion could see right through him. “And the only outcome I can get from that… is that you’ve been telling the truth.” 

“You… wait.” Sky’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. “You believe I’m one of you all because I look like your Zelda? I… does that make sense? If anything, wouldn’t it mean I’m not one of you?”  

“Maybe.” Wild shrugged a little. “I don’t know exactly what it means, but there is a reason I think it must mean something.” He paused, quiet for a moment as his pace slowed slightly. “Because– just so you know, I’m not the only one.” 

Sky frowned, brow furrowing slightly as he tried to figure out what that meant. “The… the only one who what?” 

“I’m not the only one who sees glimpses of my Zelda in you.” 

With that, the Champion flashed Sky an odd half-smile and refused to say anything more. 

Chapter Text

The storm broke right as they reached the border of the forest on the other side of the plain, drenching the earth in a downpour as wind screamed through the air and lightning crackled overhead. Sky squinted through the torrent, clothes already starting to stick to his skin as he followed the others into the trees where they would have a little more shelter. 

The forest was dark and foreboding under the blackness of the clouds, trees swaying in a disjointed rhythm as shadows crept between their trunks. Time twisted briefly around and shouted something about keeping close together, but Sky couldn’t hear quite what it was as a clap of thunder assaulted his ears. 

He cast a glance over his shoulder at Warriors, who was hunched over behind him, face twisted against the slap of the wind and rain. He glanced at Sky wordlessly, blond hair plastered to his forehead as the chosen hero mouthed, You good? 

Warriors’ hand lifted to flash him a thumbs-up, and Sky thought a slight smile might have flickered across his face before the captain looked down again, scarf whipping in the wind. 

Sky turned back around, squinting into the rain and following closely behind Wild in front of him. The trees creaked around them in the lash of the storm, branches colliding and then tearing apart again as showers of leaves fell along with the rain, littering the earth in hazy smears of red and gold. Water rolled down Sky’s bangs and dripped into his eyes, and he blinked it away, boots squelching in the muddy earth of the forest as they meandered slowly through the trees. 

In a way this reminded him of the storms on Skyloft. Some of the chain had always assumed that since he had lived on an island in the sky, raised to its position by Hylia herself, the weather there must be perfect, a notion that had always amused Sky because of how wrong it was. Sure, Skyloft had beautiful weather most of the time, but when storms struck– they raged.

He had always tried to make the chain understand that living up amongst the clouds didn’t make them immune to storms, but in fact that it made them worse– closer to the lightning, to the deafening claps of thunder that shook the air, to the rain that fell in drenching sheets. The wind during those storms was enough to sweep a person off the edge of Skyloft if they were standing too close to it, pulling at their hair and clothes in a frenzy and spitting raindrops sharp as arrows. 

Sky grinned in spite of himself as he followed Wild between the trees, ears attuned to the clash of thunder overhead as wind stung his face with howling shrieks. 

Yes, this definitely reminded him of home. 

He drew a deep breath as the chain wove through the forest, moving deeper into the heart of it as the storm continued to build in intensity. Even after his final battle with Demise he held no fear of rough weather such as this– he associated it too much with Skyloft to care about anything else it might remind him of. And besides, why add something he had grown up loving to his already extensive list of nightmares? Storms had always invigorated him rather than frightened him. They made him feel alive. 

Sky brushed more water from his eyes, concentrating on their path as they wove through the shadows that clustered thickly amid the tree trunks. The roar of the thunder filled him with a tingling feeling that coursed through his veins like liquid lightning— but wait. Sky frowned, brow furrowing as he tilted his head and listened carefully. There was indeed a roaring, but it wasn’t from the storm. 

It sounded almost like… water. 

Sky leaned slightly out to one side and peered ahead, squinting through the gaps in the trees, but he could see nothing informative besides more trees. Nonetheless, they must be approaching some sort of clearing, because with every step he took the roaring grew louder in his ears, swelling in intensity until it was harsher even than the thunder. 

Sky noticed various members of the chain turning briefly to the person behind them to apparently relay information, and after a moment or so Wild glanced over his shoulder at Sky to do the same, water streaming off of his bangs and hood. River? Sky mouthed, pointing to one ear, and Wild nodded. 

“Old man says he can just barely see it through the trees,” the Champion yelled over the cacophony of noise. “Once we all get up there we’ll figure out what to do.” 

He turned to face the front again, huddling into his cloak as an especially powerful gust of wind and rain slammed into them. Sky blinked water from his eyes again, a sudden dread rising in his stomach as each step brought them closer and closer to the roar of thundering water. He had grown up familiar with Skyloft’s river– and he had seen what storms could do to it. He didn’t particularly relish seeing what the waterway they were approaching would look like. 

It didn’t take long for him to find out. After just a few more minutes of trailing closely behind Wild, the trees opened up into a clearing through which ran what ordinarily must be a normal river. The torrents of rain, however, had raised its level nearly to the height of the muddy banks on either side, which the river frothed and raged against with waters churned brown with debris. It roared in Sky’s ears like a living creature as he came to a halt, staring into its turbulent depths with his heart picking up speed in his chest. 

Time was pointing upriver to something, saying something to Twilight that Sky was unable to hear. Sky followed his pointing arm to see a giant clump of logs and sticks a little ways to their left, wedged between the two banks of the river and forcing the water to filter through large cracks between the debris. Sky’s blood ran cold– he didn’t have to audibly hear Time to understand what he was telling Twilight. 

He planned for them to cross the raging, broiling river on that unsteady platform of debris. 

Sky turned to Wild, eyes wide as he did his best to control the fear on his countenance. “Surely we aren’t going to cross here?” he shouted over the roar of the water, rain lashing against his face. 

The Champion shrugged in reply, staring at the disjointed connection of sticks and logs in the water. “I hope not,” he answered loudly after a moment. “But if we do it’ll probably be fine.”

Sky wasn’t so sure, but Wild’s response settled his worry just a little. He turned his back on the river, stepping closer to the rest of the group as Time prepared to address them all. 

“Those logs up there appear to be a good crossing point,” he called over the gale, “but just as a precaution Twilight’s going to run across them to check that they’re sturdy. If they are, we’ll go ahead and cross; the land slopes upwards beyond the river, and we’ll want to be higher than the water in case of a flood.” 

He nodded to the rancher, who made his way over to the jammed debris and stepped carefully onto it. The logs shuddered slightly but bore his weight all the way across the water, and he stepped off safely on the other side. 

“Nothing to it,” Twilight shouted across the river with an easy grin.

“All right, I’ll go next then.” Time turned towards the debris, then added over his shoulder, “But boys, make sure only one person goes across at a time. We don’t know how much weight it can safely take.” He made his own way carefully across the logs, wobbling slightly but righting himself with ease before arriving at the opposite bank.

“Smith, you’re up!” Time turned to face the chain again, beckoning with one hand. 

Four nodded before making his way nimbly across the debris, and after him went Wind, Legend, Wild, and Hyrule. When they were all safely on the other side, Time turned his gaze to Sky and gave him a short nod to indicate it was his turn. 

Sky drew a shuddering breath, making sure all of his gear was securely strapped on before he walked slowly, reluctantly over to where the debris was wedged between the banks. Warriors followed closely behind him, seeming impatient for his own turn to arrive, which didn’t do much to ease Sky’s nerves as he placed one foot onto the logs. 

The river roared below, muddy brown water foaming and churning through the cracks in the debris, hissing and gurgling on either side of it with a vengeance. Sky swallowed hard, his mouth dry in spite of the rain pouring down around him, and took another step, moving fully off of the bank onto the unstable dam. 

Arms out at his sides, he edged his way across the debris, feeling slightly ridiculous for moving so slowly, but the sight of the wrathful water below was enough to nearly paralyze him with fear. He forced himself to look away from it, keeping his gaze instead on the footholds ahead of him and swaying slightly as he reached the center of the logs, and lifted one foot to take another step–

Thunder cracked overhead, ear-splittingly loud, and Sky’s entire body jolted in shock, his arms waving frantically, uselessly through the air before his boots slipped on the wet bark and he was falling, toppling sideways through the air as a strangled scream tore from his throat.  

Sky splashed into the water just upriver of the debris, limbs already moving frantically in an attempt to keep afloat, but it was no use. He barely had time for a single shallow breath of air before the current seized him violently in its grasp and pulled him below the surface, spinning him in its depths like a ragdoll. Sky forced his eyes open against the water, trying desperately to see, but the river was brown and murky and dark and, tumbling head over heels at the mercy of the water, he was too disoriented to make out which way was up. 

Panic arose within Sky as the current continued to flip and roll him as if he were a mere toy there for its enjoyment. He did his best to force the feeling down, frantically trying to right himself, not that he knew where the surface was. You’re okay, he thought in a hysterical attempt to calm himself, and was about to fumble to grab his water dragon scale– it would at the very least give him more air– when the current, seeming tired of playing with him, suddenly rolled him a final time before slamming him into something with such force the remaining breath was all but knocked from his lungs. 

Through the terror crowding his brain Sky realized he must have been hurled into the tangle of sticks and logs wedged between the banks. Forcing himself to remain collected, he tried to slow his mind in order to think— the debris should help him, right? Using it as a guide he should be able to find his way quickly to the surface without even needing his water dragon scale. He should be fine. 

Sky forced his lungs to hold on for just a little longer, ignoring the burning that was building in his chest. He squared his shoulders, then angled carefully into a swimming position before he kicked out with– 

His legs were stuck.

His legs were stuck oh golden Triforce his legs were stuck– 

The current must have thrust him deep into the center of the jumbled sticks, trapping his legs up to his waist, blocking him from reaching his pouch. 

Blocking any access to his water dragon scale. 

Frantically Sky twisted, hands reaching down to pull at the debris in a frenzy, but his legs were wedged so tightly he accomplished nothing aside from tearing fresh gashes in his palms. His chest constricted, burning like fire from lack of air, begging for him to take a breath. In a blind panic he shoved at the packed debris, hysterically trying to free himself before he ran out of air completely, but to no avail. His legs were trapped beyond hope. 

He was going to drown in the river. 

He was going to drown— 

No, no, no, please, I can’t die, not like this, not all alone, please, please, someone, anyone— 

And then Sky’s lungs were bursting and he couldn’t hold his breath any longer as white light exploded across his vision, as his body struggled, fought, begged for air. 

He didn’t have the energy to fight it anymore. 

Sky’s mouth opened in spite of himself, and the river rushed in. 

Choking him. Clogging his throat. Filling his lungs. Forcing its way into every last one of his senses and blocking out anything else. 

He spluttered, a cloud of bubbles trailing from his lips, pain like hellfire swelling in his chest. His torso spasmed once, twice, final desperate instincts kicking in as the river forced the air from his body. His fingers twitched, head jerking a few times as indescribable pain seared his lungs, water flooding through his nose and throat and chest and crushing him from the inside out. 

Sky’s limbs flailed weakly, his body convulsing a final time. 

And then suddenly the pain was gone, as if it had never existed, and he felt nothing. 

Absolutely nothing at all. 

Sky’s eyes slipped shut, limbs becoming almost weightless in the current as it tugged at his clothes, as it swept gently through his hair, no longer a feral beast with a thirst for blood, but instead a kind friend here to lead him into the darkness. Soon he would feel no more pain, no more regret. 

Just peace. 

Something closed around his wrist. The water gurgled deep in his lungs, sweeping him away into the void, and Sky smiled dimly as a final bubble slid between his lips, his head swaying loosely as if it was no longer connected to the rest of him. 

The thing on his wrist persisted, tugging at him fiercely for a moment, and then there was pressure beneath his armpits that gave him a violent yank. 

Another sharp pull, and Sky was floating, drifting on the current, spiraling through darkness away from the reaches of time or space. 

Calm…

It was so calm. Maybe now he could finally sleep forever, never to wake again. 

Maybe now he could find rest. 

A pressure slammed abruptly into his chest with force, again and again. Something like air brushed over his mouth. 

More pressure, painful on his chest. Vibrating in his lungs. 

Sky tried to mumble, tried to whisper for it to stop, but his throat was clogged. His mouth was sealed shut. 

He couldn’t breathe.

"Just... just hold on—" A distorted voice rang in his ears.  

The pressure struck him another handful of times, followed by that strange puff of air, and suddenly as more weight pushed into his chest, water was shooting up his throat and he was coughing and hacking and there were hands rolling him onto his stomach as he gasped and choked for air. Water sprayed from his mouth in a flood, his chest burning, shoulders heaving as he hacked fluid from his lungs until at last they were empty. 

Weak, he felt so weak, his whole body was soaked and trembling and it hurt to draw breath, but he gulped air in regardless, unable to get enough of it. He was faintly aware of hands on his shoulders and back and waist, steadying him, keeping him from falling as his arms buckled and gave way. 

“You’re okay,” the voice from before murmured from somewhere above his head. 

Sky coughed up a final bit of water, throat raw with the effort, and drew a few shuddering breaths, tongue thick in his mouth, his limbs shaking from both terror and cold as he tried to take stock of his surroundings with his eyes still squeezed firmly shut. 

Water was falling on his head and shoulders, dripping down his hair and into his face. Somewhere he could hear a roaring sound, and wind lashing through trees, and the distant crackle of thunder. The hands on him were soft, gentle, yet supporting him with the strength he needed to stay upright. And he— his body was still trembling, throat still raw. His fingers were clenched in what felt like grass, wet clothes sticking to his skin, and—

Sky’s chest heaved, his stomach lurching with sudden nausea, and the hands were still there to steady him as the breakfast he had eaten that morning flew from his mouth. He vomited onto the grass on all fours, face close to the ground, fingers twisting into the earth as his body dry-heaved again and again until finally it was satisfied there was nothing left to give.  

Sky rolled onto his side, gasping, rain splashing onto his face as he sucked air into aching lungs. A hand brushed wet hair away from his forehead, another coming to rest against his cheek. 

“You’re okay,” the voice said again softly, and the gentleness in the words, combined with the warmth of the hand on his face and the pain radiating through his lungs, filled Sky with a grief he couldn’t explain. 

He lay shaking on the grass, one hand pressing over his face, the other arm curled tightly against his aching chest as he sobbed. A hand began rubbing his back, fingers stroking through his hair, and Sky let himself cry, tremors shaking his body, rain mingling with the tears on his cheeks. 

Then gentle hands were sliding under his armpits, carefully lifting his torso, and his head was pressing into the crook of someone’s neck as they pulled Sky to rest between their legs. 

“I’ve got you,” a voice murmured in his ear. Familiar. Friendly. Caring. “You’re safe.” 

Sky’s fingers bunched into the soaked fabric of the person’s tunic, his face pressing into their neck where a pulse was beating, and he sobbed, entire body trembling, throat raw as the person holding him rocked him gently back and forth like a child. 

After what felt like an eternity, Sky’s tears at last dissolved into weak sniffs and hiccups, his grip on the person’s tunic loosening just slightly as he trembled. 

“You all right?” the voice said gently, just above his ear. He felt it rumbling deep within the person’s chest as they held him even closer, their pulse a comforting rhythm against his forehead. 

Sky managed a small nod, breath coming in loose and painful gasps. Oh, how his lungs were burning. 

“Can you sit up for me?” A hand gently rubbed between his shoulder blades. “We need to get a potion in you for your lungs.” 

Sky felt so weak he scarcely knew how he was breathing, let alone if he could manage sitting up. But after a moment he nodded again, pushing against the person’s chest with scraped palms as they helped him to move into an upright position. Limbs still shaking from cold and trauma, Sky drew a final stinging breath and opened his eyes. 

Blue. 

That was the first thing he saw, deep royal blue against a field of green fabric that his fingers clung to tightly. 

Sky’s eyes were still wet with tears as he lifted his gaze past a drenched, mud-stained collar and up to an uncharacteristically soft smile and gentle eyes. 

The captain. 

The captain was the one holding him with such tenderness, speaking such gentle words in his ears. 

It was enough to make Sky almost burst into tears again on the spot, but he could already feel growing embarrassment from his first outburst. He sniffled, fingers slowly unclenching from Warriors’ tunic as the older hero watched him with eyes that no longer bore any mistrust. 

Something had clearly changed, but Sky wasn’t sure what. 

A hand gripped his shoulder, startling him. “Here’s a potion for you,” a voice said distantly, brushing his ears. Sky turned his head to find Hyrule kneeling next to Warriors, glass bottle lifted in his hands. The traveler’s eyes were dark with worry, but he offered Sky the faintest of smiles, holding the potion a little higher so he could reach it. 

“Thank you,” Sky rasped, hoarse and croaking through the pain in his lungs and throat. He fumbled to uncork the bottle and swallowed the liquid within, feeling it instantly begin to soothe the ache in his body.  

He set the bottle down on the grass, speaking slowly and carefully as if he had forgotten how to use his voice. “I… how did I– get here?” 

“You were trapped underwater,” the captain’s voice replied, soft and unsure. “Pinned in the debris.” 

“Yes, but—” Sky swallowed, the air painful to breathe. “Who saved me?” 

“Wars did, that’s who.” 

Wild. The Champion knelt somewhere to Sky’s left, water dripping off of his hair. “When you didn’t resurface after a minute or so, he snatched Twi’s Zora mask and jumped in after you. You were both gone for I don’t know how long, but then he finally reappeared, holding you by the collar. You’ve– been unconscious for several minutes.” 

“Kid—” Twilight shook his head from where he sat cross-legged next to Wild, face full of disbelief as he looked at the chosen hero. “I don’t know how you survived. But you did.” 

The how he survived didn’t matter to Sky, not right now. 

But the why he survived did. 

And it was right in front of him. 

He looked up into Warriors’ face, voice raw and trembling as he tried to piece together his words in a way that made sense. But in the end all he could manage was a hoarse, “Why?” 

The captain shrugged, not meeting his gaze, blond hair plastered to his forehead as he stared into the trees with water trickling down his face. “I never leave my men to die,” he finally answered, voice rough. 

“But I’m not—” Sky’s voice hitched, but he refused to look away. “–I’m not one of your men, am I?” Not one that you remember, anyway. 

Warriors’ eyes snapped back to look at him, piercing into Sky’s very soul as the captain gripped his shoulders tightly and leaned to press their foreheads together for just a moment.  

“You are now,” he replied quietly so only Sky could hear, before gently pulling Sky’s head to rest in the crook of his neck again, gloved fingers carding through the Skyloftian’s wet hair.  

The chosen hero didn’t protest. 

Not that he had the energy to, anyway. He let his eyes fall shut again, body still weak and trembling, Warriors’ body heat gradually beginning to warm him.

Overhead the storm still raged, burning the sky white with flashes of lightning as thunder roared, but for just a moment a patch of blue sky shone through. 

Chapter Text

Warriors didn’t speak at dinner that night.  

Usually he was one of the more talkative members of the team, laughing at the others’ words and throwing out jokes and sarcastic comments, but tonight he was silent, picking idly at the carrot stew Wild had prepared and avoiding meeting anyone’s gaze. Hyrule tried asking if he was all right, but Warriors just shrugged and muttered something evasive in reply, staring into the fire as the various conversations amongst the chain drifted over his head. 

Sky was not among them, but was instead snug in his bedroll at the foot of a tree, asleep. Hyrule had said that in order for potions to be most effective on his damaged lungs, he would need plenty of rest. So after they had hiked to higher ground beyond the raging waters of the river, Sky half-asleep in Warriors’ arms, the boy had been tucked into his bedroll and left alone to recuperate while Wild got dinner ready. 

Now, hours later, Warriors’ throat was still tight as he stared into the fire, the heat of the flames brushing against his face, although he barely felt it. He couldn’t stop thinking about earlier, about… everything. He had been the only person left on the opposite end of the bank, waiting for Sky to finish crossing the debris, but when Sky lost his balance, feet scrabbling in vain to find purchase, Warriors had felt as if he was suddenly trapped in slow-motion, unable to move. Unable to do anything as Sky slipped and plunged sideways, swallowed by the froth, his single scream abruptly silenced.

The captain had waited for a full moment, hoping to see Sky’s water-drenched head appear in the river’s foamy surface, but the seconds had ticked by with agonizing slowness and he never appeared. Unable to explain the sudden, choking panic in his throat, Warriors had all but bolted across the debris to the opposite bank, snatched Twilight’s Zora mask from his belt, and strapped it onto his face before diving into the turbulent water without a second thought. 

It was dark and cold and crushingly heavy beneath the surface, and if it hadn’t been for Twilight’s mask, Warriors was sure he would have suffered the same fate as Sky. As it was, he had trouble seeing through the murky water enough to flip himself upright and fight his way out of the current, where he then treaded water and frantically scanned the river for the missing boy.  

It took several minutes of searching through the muddy water before he finally located him, trapped amongst the jam of debris between the banks. Sky’s face was paper-white, his eyes closed as the current swept loosely through his hair and clothes, tugging at his limbs like a wild animal. His head swayed gently in the water as Warriors reached out and grabbed at his wrist in a panic that he still didn’t quite understand. 

He was thinking frantically of how to free him when a twisted smile had crept slowly onto Sky’s face, empty and cold and uncaring. He was giving in to the water; no, he already had given in, Warriors realized as ice gripped his spine. Frantically, senselessly he yanked at Sky’s wrist, trying to dislodge him, and then in a fit of desperation he had grabbed him beneath the armpits and pulled, jerking the boy’s torso with a strength he scarcely knew he possessed. 

The drowning boy had at last slid free in his grip, sending up a cloud of dirt and loose bark as his legs were tugged from the debris, and Warriors half-swam, half-floundered to the surface, one hand clinging on to Sky’s collar as he fought his way past the current. 

The boy wasn’t breathing when the captain at last flung him onto the bank and clambered out of the water, dripping wet and tearing Twilight’s mask from his face in a frenzy. He flung it aside with shaking fingers and knelt before Sky, staring into his bloodless face, at the wet caramel hair plastered to the boy’s forehead and darkened into toffee by the river. Please don’t be dead, Warriors begged him silently as he pressed his hands to Sky’s chest and began the medical compressions he had learned as a soldier, back when his men were often knocked unconscious with the very breath forced from their body.  

He couldn’t have explained the relief that flooded him when Sky at last stirred slightly, face twisting in discomfort as Warriors’ hands slammed into his chest again and again. “Just… just hold on–” the captain had panted breathlessly, although he wasn’t sure if he was speaking to Sky or himself, and continued frantically compressing his chest and breathing air into his mouth until finally the boy had choked and coughed up water and breathed. 

And when Sky was finally folded into his arms, head tucked beneath Warriors’ chin as he violently trembled and gulped in air, the only thought that had crossed the captain’s mind was protect. 

His gaze moved to Sky now, stew forgotten as he watched the unmoving lump beneath the tree a ways away. He could see Sky’s chest rising and falling as he slept, finally in some semblance of peace after all that had happened to him in the past day or so, and that soft, protective feeling from earlier returned, clawing at his lungs, beating against his ribcage. He swallowed, fingers tightening around his bowl of stew as he turned back to the fire, heat searing into his face. 

Gradually he became aware that the others were speaking of the very boy he had just been thinking about. Hyrule was saying something about how he’s been through so much since we’ve met him; I feel awful for him; I wonder what we can do. Legend, Four and Wind were making sounds of agreement, and Twilight and Wild were nodding at what the traveler was saying, but Time–

Warriors felt his brows drawing together in annoyance. The old man sat with hands folded together and thumbs pressed over his mouth, but he wasn’t contributing anything to the conversation, instead sitting in silence. Warriors knew him well enough to recognize the look on his face– he disapproved of what Hyrule was saying. 

He disapproved of Sky.

Four was opening his mouth to add his own input when Time finally sat up, seeming irritated. “Most of us have been through much worse than he has so far,” he said icily. “I don’t see why you all feel the need to become so attached to him.” 

“And I don’t see why you’re so mistrusting of him,” Warriors shot back, setting his bowl of stew down with a thunk as anger clouded his vision. 

Time briefly met his gaze, expression unreadable, and then looked away, his jaw clenching. “I don’t expect you to understand my reasons for mistrust, Captain,” he returned quietly, voice even-keeled, but there was a sharp warning behind it. 

Warriors threw his hands up in disbelief, rocking backwards on the log he was perched on. “You’re right, I don’t understand, old man. And, do you know what,” he scoffed as an afterthought, “I don’t think you understand those reasons yourself.” 

Time’s mouth opened, then swung shut again. He pressed the knuckles of one hand to his lips and looked away, staring into the fire without replying. “You can ignore me all you want,” Warriors continued, voice rising into a tone that Wind liked to refer to as his Warr-ire. “But the facts are that he’s done literally nothing to make you not trust him. So maybe you should stop acting like he’s the embodiment of evil, huh?” 

“I’m not asking for you all to feel the same way.” Time didn’t move his gaze from the flames as he spoke. “Just that you be less accepting when we know scarcely anything about him. I don’t feel inclined to start trusting him. You say he’s given us no reason not to, but I say he’s given us no reason to. Especially considering the sword. You would do well to practice more caution, Captain.” 

“Bloody Hylia,” Warriors swore, pushing to his feet and leaning towards Time with clenched fists. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me today, old man. Like he knew me, like we were brothers– holding on to me like I was the only thing keeping him from collapsing– can’t you see he loves us? He knows us, he sees us as family, but you–” He felt the sting of tears pricking at the back of his eyes, which only served to make him angrier. “—But you can’t see it—”

His words clogged in his throat, and Warriors turned his back on the fire, shoulders tense as fury hammered against his ribcage. A dozen more retorts flared on the tip of his tongue, but he clenched his teeth together and forced himself to storm away from the fire instead, leaving the chain’s tense silence and uneasy glances behind him. 

He came to a halt under the line of trees beneath which Sky was sleeping, breath heaving in his chest as he curled and uncurled his fingers at his sides in an attempt to calm himself. Hylia, the old man could be so bullheaded sometimes. And this time he was being just– well, ridiculous, in Warriors’ opinion. Goddess knows he himself was wary enough of Sky at first, even cold towards him, but after today— after he nearly lost him, after he saw that brotherly affection in Sky’s eyes and felt him clinging to his tunic like a lost child— No. All lingering mistrust had been driven from the captain’s heart. 

He heaved out a sigh and plopped down in the grass next to Sky’s bedroll, feeling suddenly lost. Maybe he had been too angry towards the old man, but Time’s continuing resentment just didn’t make sense to him, especially as Sky hadn’t shown any signs of being dangerous or a threat since the sword had burned him. If anything he had been the opposite— soft, warm, friendly, gentle. 

Warriors pulled his knees up to his chest and tucked his chin overtop, scarf fluttering limply in the wind as he watched Sky sleep. Time confused him. Sky confused him. The past day or so—  it all confused him, and he hated being confused. He was a soldier, after all. Order and control— that was what he operated best on, not blundering through the dark with no knowledge or understanding of what was happening. 

A twig snapped behind him, and Warriors jumped slightly, jolted abruptly from his thoughts. “I, um, brought your stew over,” a voice said softly. Warriors twisted to see the smith standing there, edged in the distant firelight, a bowl in each hand. 

“Oh,” was all he could say for a moment, a lump suddenly forming in his throat. “Thank you.” 

Four offered him a slight smile, holding out one of the bowls to the captain, who took it silently, feeling it warm his palms. Another gust of wind whipped past as Four sat cross-legged next to Warriors, balancing his own bowl on one knee and glancing over at Sky. 

“I agree with you,” he murmured without looking at the captain. “About what you said. I don’t understand Time either.” 

Warriors pushed his stew idly around with his spoon. “He just seems so bitter,” he mumbled after a moment. “Like he has some personal vendetta against him or something. We barely even know the kid.” He bit his lip, gaze flicking to Sky as the boy shifted slightly in his sleep. “And he is a kid, that’s for sure. I can’t tell exactly how old he is, but he looks so— young.”

“Yeah.” Four rested his chin in one hand, thinking. “I mean, you know how protective Time is of us.” 

“You’re not kidding,” Warriors muttered under his breath. “He’s worse than a bloody father half the time.” 

Four’s mouth lifted in a half-grin. “Mm.” He paused, brow furrowing. “So maybe he’s just so worried about Sky wanting to hurt us—”

“Even though we can definitely handle ourselves,” Warriors interrupted dryly. 

“—that he isn’t thinking straight. And I mean, you know how he feels about the sword. He hates it, but it burned Sky, so maybe there’s some underlying issue there.” Four shrugged, taking a bite of stew. “I guess he’s just stubborn, is all, but he’ll probably come around eventually.” 

“What, once we finally figure out the kid is okay and can send him on his way?” Warriors rolled his eyes. “I can see that happening.”

“Well, I don’t think we would send him off in that case,” Four pointed out. “If he is who he says he is.” 

Warriors hummed. “I think he is.” 

Four’s gaze snapped to him in surprise, and then he smiled a little, spoon clinking in his bowl. 

“I do too.” 

<><><>

Sky is dreaming. 

There is water around his bare feet, muddy and treacherous. He stands on solid ground, only ankle-deep, but a single misstep could send him plunging into endless holes hidden just below the surface, sinking deeper and deeper into the blackness, never to return. 

The water stretches as far as he can see, disappearing into darkness that drifts around him in smoky wisps. He is lost, and confused, and frightened. His voice is hoarse from screaming for help. He doesn’t know where he is, and he cannot move for fear of the watery grave that waits for him hungrily. 

Sky turns in a circle, breath frosting in the air as his chest heaves. The blackness swirls thicker, clawing at his throat and face, seeping into his skin. Soon he will no longer be visible, swallowed by darkness that will consume him and drag him into the depths. 

There is a splash behind him. A footstep in this watery, endless tomb of shadow. Dread crawls thickly up and down Sky’s spine, his skin prickling with it as his hands clench into fists at his sides. He doesn’t want to see what is behind him, but he must.

He turns. 

The dread stabs deep into his gut, into his heart, where it twists like a deadly knife that sends pain shooting through his body. 

The demon lord stands before him. 

Ghirahim. 

And Sky wields no sword, nothing to defend himself with but his fists, which are trembling and useless at his sides. He stands shaking ankle-deep in the water, barefoot and clad in no protective gear, just a plain white shirt and ragged brown trousers. Not a single weapon or shield with which he can fight. 

Ghirahim tilts his head, a deadly smile curling over his face, fangs glinting in a light Sky cannot see. 

“Hello, sky child.” 

The hiss scrapes his ears and makes them bleed. Sky tries to scream, to run, but he cannot move, cannot shout, cannot breathe. He shakes, legs twitching with the urge to bolt, the whites of his eyes in plain view as he stands paralyzed. 

Prey. He has become mere prey. 

Ghirahim’s grin only expands in size, fangs gleaming as he steps forward till he is directly in front of Sky, seeming amused by the terror in his eyes. “Did you miss me, boy? After everything I did for my master? After everything I tried to do for you? Because, you see, none of this mess you’re in would have happened if you had just let me kill you one of those times we met, now would it?” 

Sky trembles, unable to do anything else. Unable to move. 

“Although,” Ghirahim concedes slowly, tapping his chin with one finger, “I suppose it’s never too late. Is it, sky child?” 

Sky’s mouth opens in a soundless scream, and then Ghirahim’s eyes are glowing pure white as he grabs the chosen hero by the throat and squeezes with a grip like iron until black spots cloud his vision. In vain Sky tries to scream, tries to reach for his sword, but the hands are too tight around his throat and his fingers close on empty air and Fi is not there to save him. 

Ghirahim’s smile stretches unnaturally wide, blood dripping off of his fangs, and then he is pushing Sky down, down, down into the abysmal pool at their feet, shoving his head back, hands still on his throat as water floods Sky’s nose and mouth. He spasms, arms jerking wildly, trying desperately to free himself, but the demon lord’s hands are tight around his throat and the water floods his lungs and the hands are pressing into his shoulders, forcing him down, killing him— 

Sky awoke gasping, sweat soaking his face and arms, terror pounding in his heart. Just a dream, it was just a dream, and—

—and the hands were still there on his shoulders, pushing him down, he was drowning —

A feral shriek tore from his throat and before he was aware of anything else he lashed out, grabbing onto what felt like a collar, pulling whoever it belonged to close. Their form loomed above him, blurry, shadowed, threatening, and then Sky’s hands latched around their throat and squeezed. 

A strangled choking sound filled the air, calloused hands reaching to claw at Sky’s wrists in desperation, and then suddenly the moon slid from behind a cloud and Sky found himself staring up into Warriors’ terrified face, his eyes bugging slightly from his head, Sky’s hands wrapped around his throat.  

Cold fear and shock washed over Sky simultaneously, and he released the captain with a sharp inhale of horror before scrambling into a sitting position as Warriors doubled over slightly and wheezed for air. “Oh,” Sky whispered, and in spite of himself, in spite of Sun, he let loose a petrified oath. “Oh, Hylia. Wars, I’m—  this is exactly what Time was worried about, I—” 

He pressed the back of one hand to his mouth, trembling in stupefied horror as nausea rolled over him in waves. He nearly strangled one of the chain. One of his own. 

Time was right. He was dangerous. 

“I’m so— I’m so sorry, I—”

Warriors’ voice rasped out, harsh and grating as he clutched at his throat, slumped over and not looking at Sky. 

“That wasn’t you.” 

Sky stared at him, breath heaving in his chest. “What do you mean, I could have killed you–” 

His words fumbled into stunned silence as the captain suddenly straightened and grabbed him into a tight hug.

“That wasn’t you,” he said again, firmly enough there was no room for protest, voice scraped raw. “I know because I’ve seen it. Because I’ve… been there.” 

Sky relaxed slightly against his brother, only partially reassured by his words, tears pricking at his eyes. “What do you mean?” he questioned faintly after a moment, heart pounding in his ears. 

Warriors held him tighter, letting a long silence fall between them before he finally answered. “I’ve lost too many men before.” Sky felt him swallow. “But not to death, you know. To their own minds. To their own trauma.” He pushed away from Sky, hands still gripping the chosen hero’s shoulders as he looked him in the eyes. “And that right there… that was trauma, kid. I’d know it anywhere.” 

“Are–” Sky gulped, hands suddenly trembling where they rested on Warriors’ forearms. “Are you going to tell the old man?” 

Warriors snorted in astonishment, sinking back cross-legged and rolling his eyes. “As if. He doesn’t need to know. I bet he’s done it himself at some point, anyway.” 

Sky sagged in relief, tension beginning to drain out of him. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely, then bit his lip, a tremor running through his limbs. “Um… do you think you’ll need a potion for–” He grimaced, unable to keep from staring at the red finger marks now visible on Warriors’ skin. “For your throat…?” 

“You only had hold of me for a few seconds.” Warriors shrugged, patting his shoulder. “I think I’ll be fine, and if not I can just take one tomorrow.” 

“If you say so,” Sky said faintly, leaning back in his bedroll and suddenly aware of his surroundings beyond just the captain. In the distance, the remains of the fire smoldered, and a few members of the chain– he couldn’t tell who at this distance– lay curled around it. Only a few feet from Sky, Four was curled up asleep on the grass, two empty stew bowls near his feet, a peaceful smile on his face. 

Sky glanced over at the captain again, confusion settling into his mind like fog. “What were– why were you over here anyway?” he asked numbly after a moment, fumbling to pull his blanket up to his chest and feeling strangely vulnerable as Warriors turned his head to look at him. 

“I, well, I might have had a spat with the old man,” Warriors said casually, reclining on his elbows in the grass and staring up at the stars. “And I got upset, so I came over here. Smith joined me after a moment. I… I mostly just wanted to check on you. See that you were all right. And when everyone else fell asleep, I wasn’t really tired, so…” He shrugged again, one corner of his mouth angling downwards. “So I was awake when you started screaming. Figured I’d better wake you up.” 

Sky gripped his blanket so tightly his knuckles turned white. “I was screaming in real life? You could hear me?” he whispered, and for a moment he was trapped again in his nightmare, head tilted back, water flooding his nose and mouth as he screamed without sound. 

Warriors’ gaze snapped over to him, taking in Sky’s pale and sweaty face, and a moment later he was rolling onto his side and moving towards the chosen hero. “Hey, kid. It’s okay. You’re okay,” he soothed, pulling the Skyloftian’s head to rest on his shoulder, fingers carding through his hair. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.” 

Sky leaned into the captain’s warmth, a single tear cascading down his cheek. He felt so weak, but at the same time he didn’t want to let go, didn’t want to be left alone. He listened to Warriors’ heartbeat until his own finally started to settle, forcing himself to focus on his surroundings, on the dew on the grass and the breeze around them and the distant thrum of crickets. “Do you know, I’ve never really seen this side of you before,” he murmured finally after a moment, threading the fingers of one hand into a clump of mist-soaked grass. 

Warriors huffed a laugh, jostling Sky slightly with the movement as he continued fiddling with the chosen’s hair. “When you’re a soldier you learn to seek out physical contact with your companions, no matter how awkward it might be at first. I know I act tough, but– I like cuddles just as much as any other Link.” 

That surprised Sky enough to prompt a further comment from him. “But I’ve never really seen you be– well, like this.” He tilted his head to look up at the captain. “Why have you never done it before?” 

“Are you kidding?” Warriors snorted again, seeming amused as his mouth curled into a smile. “Twi and Ledge would never let me live it down.” 

“As if they don’t love cuddles themselves,” Sky said cheekily, and a bit sleepily. 

The captain grinned, bumping his head against Sky’s as the chosen hero shifted into a more comfortable position. “This is true.” 

They lapsed into silence, the only sound coming from the wind rustling the leaves over their head, and Sky felt his eyelids beginning to get heavy, tiredness washing over him in waves. He yawned, tucking his head against Warriors’ chest and letting his eyes slip shut. 

“Wars?” 

“Mmm?” The captain’s voice rumbled under his ear. 

The Skyloftian paused for a moment, haziness already starting to swirl around him, but he still felt embarrassed as he murmured, “...Thank you.” 

A soft chuckle brushed his ears. 

“You’re welcome, kid.”  

Sky could have sworn Warriors tucked the blanket around him a little more snugly as he drifted off to sleep. 

Chapter Text

The storm clouds were fully cleared away the following morning, leaving a perfect blue sky in their wake. Wild cooked a hasty breakfast of eggs and bacon, and then everyone dispersed to gather their belongings, murmuring filling the makeshift camp as they packed up weapons and items and spare potion bottles. 

As they worked to collect everything together so they could get on the road again, a sudden crackling sound rent the air, one they knew all too well. Confused glances flitted between them– they hadn’t fought any monsters in Legend’s Hyrule. There shouldn’t be a portal yet, but there it was, sizzling with dark magic a few yards away, a gaping maw waiting to swallow them whole.

“Old man?” Twilight glanced over at Time, uncertainty on his face. “Isn’t that a little odd considering we haven’t… fought anything?” 

Time’s jaw clenched, gaze flicking briefly to Sky before he shook his head, gathering up his pack and standing. “Maybe. But we don’t have much of a choice. Hurry and finish getting your things organized.” 

The rest of them scrambled to obey, tossing weapons and tools and random items together before they pushed to their feet and headed towards the portal after Time. “I can’t help but feel,” Sky heard Legend muttering to the traveler, “that this just means we’re going to find something worse on the other side.” 

“It’ll probably be fine,” Hyrule answered, but Sky recognized his tone enough to know he wasn’t confident in what he had said. He swallowed, wondering if perhaps the veteran was right, and shifted his pack, palms sweaty inside his gloves as they approached the portal. 

Warriors was walking next to him, and Sky wasn’t sure whether that was on purpose or accidental, but either way he was glad for the companionship. The captain gave him an uncertain look out of the corner of one eye, and Sky offered an uneasy smile in return before squaring his shoulders and turning towards the portal. He waited as Time, then Wild, ducked into its dark, swirling jaws ahead of him, before drawing a deep breath and moving towards it himself. 

He was only a foot or two away from it when his skin began to tingle, little bolts of heat dancing up and down his spine and collarbone. That had never happened before with any of the other portals, but maybe this one was different, seeing as how it appeared without them fighting anything. 

It was probably fine, right? Sky shrugged to himself and stepped into the portal. 

Immediately his skin was on fire, burning and blazing and searing with pain that crawled up and down his arms and stung his fingers and neck like wasps. Sky gritted his teeth, determined to keep from screaming, forcing his way forward until he emerged from the other end into a massive grassy plain, where he stumbled and fell to his hands and knees. 

The pain dissipated as quickly as it had come, and Sky shook his head dazedly before forcing himself to his feet again. He glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his misstep, but the only two besides himself who had come through the portal yet were Time and Wild, and they were deep in discussion about the Hyrule they had arrived in; they didn’t even seem to notice his presence. 

Sky breathed a sigh of relief as the rest of the chain started to appear through the portal, none of them appearing to be in pain of any sort. Well, that was good, he supposed, but then why did he…? 

He didn’t have an answer for that, so he pushed it from his mind and offered a smile to Wind as the sailor stepped up beside him, chattering loudly with Hyrule about baked goods. Twilight, the last of the chain to arrive, stepped out of the portal, and a moment later it fizzled away behind him, leaving the chain free to survey their surroundings. 

They stood in a massive field of lush, emerald grass dotted with wildflowers and shrubbery. Mountains rose in the distance, their peaks wreathed in clouds and scraping the sky, which was a brilliant cornflower blue. The sun beamed down with warm rays, bathing the field in golden light. 

“Whose Hyrule is this?” the traveler asked, looking around them, eyes wide. 

“Mine,” Wild answered without looking up, turning away from talking to Time and tapping on his Sheikah slate. “We’re in Hyrule Field, about… fifty miles from the ruins of Mabe Village.” 

“Is that an area you feel we should investigate?” Time questioned. 

“Mm… maybe. Theoretically there shouldn’t be guardians near there anymore; I took them out on my journey, but–” Wild squinted doubtfully at his slate. “With the monsters we’ve been dealing with, I’m not entirely sure.” 

“We’ll have to risk it then. If there are any strange beasts there we’ll have to clear them out anyway, so we may as well check it out.” 

Time, Wild and Twilight huddled together to discuss the best route to the village, and Sky turned away, gaze wandering over the field and the flowers sprinkled throughout. He was just leaning down to pick one of them when a horrified gasp sounded from behind him. 

“Sky?” 

Sky started, straightening and turning to discover Four standing behind him, staring at the chosen hero with wide eyes and mouth slightly open in what appeared to be concern. 

“What– what is it? What’s wrong?” Sky stammered, heart jolting in his chest as his mind ran through a jumble of possibilities for why Four was staring like that. “Are–” 

“You’re… bleeding.” 

What? 

Sky looked down at himself, pulse thudding in his ears, and was shocked to discover the smith was right– faint splotches of crimson were leaking through the collar and sleeves of his tunic in irregular patterns, almost as if– 

No. 

His throat clogged in panic, and Sky trembled, taking a stumbling step backwards in the grass and desperately trying to keep his footing. “It’s– it’s nothing,” he finally choked, though terror seared at his lungs. “I… have allergies, it’s nothing–” 

“I think Hyrule should take a look at that,” Four said in concern, brow furrowing, but Sky’s hands flew up in a frenzy, his head shaking back and forth. 

“No, that’s not necessary– I’ll just… it’s fine,” he said desperately, eyes wide and rimmed in panic, sweat coating his skin. “Don’t worry about it.” 

He turned away from Four and stumbled unsteadily across the field, falling to his knees when he was a good distance from the others and undoing the vambrace on his left forearm. Letting it drop to the grass, he drew a breath before rolling up the bloodied sleeve to reveal the skin beneath. 

Nausea rolled over him in waves upon seeing what lay there, and Sky clapped a hand over his mouth in spite of himself to stifle his scream. 

Oh, no. No. This can’t be.  

Oh, Hylia. 

His gut lurched in horror, and a moment later he was vomiting into the grass, fingers twisting into the soil as nauseating dizziness took hold of him. His head was pounding. His heart was hammering out of his chest. He couldn’t breathe. 

What am I going to do? 

Sky forced himself to sit upright after a moment, shuddering as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and dared a glance at the rest of the chain. Four was watching him with a worried expression, saying something to Hyrule, but the rest of the group had their backs to him, still taking in their surroundings or discussing their future course with Time and Wild. 

Nausea roiled again in Sky’s stomach as he made a firm resolution. He was never going to tell them. 

They could never find out. 

<><><>

Wild frowned, tilting his Sheikah slate to avoid the glare of the sun and studying the screen as he walked. By his calculations they should be arriving at the ruins of Mabe Village in around… three days, at the least, which seemed probable at the pace they were keeping. So far there didn’t appear to be signs of any enemies nearby, which was good, but at the same time he had a feeling they were all clustered somewhere amongst the ruins, lying in wait for the chain to arrive. 

The old man seemed to think so, too, which was why they were going to the village in the first place, but that didn’t do much to satiate the unease gnawing at Wild’s gut. There was a lurching sense of dread within him whenever he imagined what might lie ahead, which was a bit stupid considering they had usually been fine before when dealing with the strange beasts. This time would be no different, if there even were any monsters near the village.

Wild sighed, clipping his slate to his belt and letting his arms swing loosely at his sides as he walked. Twilight ambled beside him, appearing lost in thought, and Wild looked over at him for a moment before asking, “You good, rancher?” 

Twilight started, then smiled slightly, glancing over at his protégé and nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking.” 

The Champion was silent for a moment, listening to the distant buzz of insects and the swish of grass beneath their feet as they walked, before he cleared his throat. “Bet I can guess what you’re thinking about,” he said quietly, tilting his head at Twilight. 

The rancher looked briefly disconcerted. “What do you mean?” 

“You’re worried about what we’re going to find at the village.” 

Twilight’s eyes widened a fraction, and he didn’t say anything for a minute, scratching the back of his head. “I am,” he admitted finally. “But I would appreciate if you’d keep that amongst us; I don’t want to get any of the others worried.” 

Wild hesitated, throwing a glance behind him at the others, who were walking closer together than usual. A tense silence hung over the chain, unease visible in each of their faces. “I think it’s a little too late for that,” he murmured to the rancher. “Looks like everyone’s on edge.” 

“It just—” Twilight’s voice deepened almost to a growl, the way it always did when he was worried. “I don’t like that a portal appeared when we didn’t even find any monsters in Ledge’s Hyrule. It doesn’t make sense. That’s never happened before, right?”

“No.” Wild’s gaze moved to Time, who walked several paces in front of them, oblivious to their conversation. “I… I have a feeling the old man believes that maybe Sky—” He swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. “I think he believes Sky is the monster we were supposed to fight.” 

“Well, I guess that could make sense, but he’s shown no signs of… being evil.” Twilight kicked at a clump of grass, brows furrowed. “Even if Time believes what you said, I don’t think it’s at all true.” 

“Me either.” 

The rancher sighed, gazing up at the clouds drifting above. “I don’t know. It’s been a mess these past few days. Hopefully it’ll all clear up soon.” 

“Hopefully,” Wild agreed, but he could tell that Twilight didn’t have much faith in his own words. 

To be honest, Wild didn’t either.  

<><><>

They stopped a few hours later on a tall hill overlooking a stream, dumping their gear and stretching sore muscles. “Champion had better get lunch going soon,” Warriors grumbled, prompting a glare from Wild. 

“If you’d like to make lunch yourself, Wars, be my guest,” he said sweetly, pressing his hands into his lower back and bending backwards slightly to stretch it. “Or perhaps you remember the fish incident?” 

The captain’s face reddened, and Legend groaned beside him. “Don’t even remind me of that,” he complained, plopping into a sitting position in the grass and sticking his tongue out at Warriors. “We were all throwing up for days.” 

“It was not days, you drama queen,” Warriors said, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Drama queen? You’re one to talk–” 

Wild rolled his eyes at their argument and decided to leave them to it. “I’ll be back, gonna go get some water for lunch,” he told the two, then grabbed his cooking pot and made his way down the hill to the stream flowing past at the bottom. He knelt by the water, about to fill his pot, when a barely audible hiss of pain caught his attention. He glanced to his right and was surprised to find Sky kneeling downstream of him, his back to the Champion as he leaned over the water. 

Wild paused, feeling like he should just ignore the boy and continue on with making lunch, but something prompted him to go over and ask if he was okay. He got to his feet, joints cracking, and made his way hesitantly over to Sky, stopping just behind him.

“Sky?” 

The boy flinched, shoulders tensing, and turned further away from Wild, obscuring his view even more. “Yes?” he mumbled after a moment. His voice was ragged. Wary. 

Wild took a cautious step closer, edging around Sky, who couldn’t turn away any further without risking falling in the stream. “Are–” He cut himself off, concern filling him upon seeing what Sky was doing. One of the boy’s vambraces lay on the grass at his side, a roll of bandages in his lap, and he was currently wrapping one that had been soaked in water around his left forearm. Red splotches could be seen leaking into the fabric as Sky attempted to knot it with one trembling hand. 

“Are you okay?” Wild tried to keep the alarm from his voice as he set down his pot. “Should I get someone to check that out for you?” 

“It’s just a cut.” The boy’s voice was low, emotionless, but his fingers were unsteady as he tried and failed to tie the cloth.  

“Here, let me help you,” Wild said softly, squatting next to Sky, who flinched again and moved his arm close to his chest. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” 

There was a long pause, interrupted only by the murmur of the stream through the field, and then Sky swallowed thickly before finally extending his arm to the Champion. “Don’t look underneath, please,” he mumbled. “Just tie it.” 

Wild couldn’t help but wonder what he was hiding, but maybe it wasn’t his place. Maybe it was just a cut after all. He reached out and took the ends of bloody cloth, knotting them carefully together around Sky’s wrist and elbow to cover his whole forearm. He felt Sky wince as the fabric tightened around his skin, more blood spurting through the cloth at the movement, and looked up at him in growing concern. 

“Are you sure you don’t want Hyrule or Wars to take a look at that?” Wild asked. “I don’t know what it looks like, but from the bleeding it seems like it’s more than ‘just a cut.’” 

Sky’s jaw clenched, and he withdrew his arm, turning his back on Wild and staring into the stream. “I’m fine.” His tone was clipped, tense, but brittle with underlying panic. 

Wild wasn’t so sure he believed that, but he decided not to argue. If Sky said he was fine, he probably was, or at least he soon would be, right? If anything, he had a variety of potions he could take; Wild had heard the bottles clinking around in the boy’s pouch. 

“If you say so.” The Champion got to his feet, giving Sky a hearty pat on the back and failing to notice the strange wince the gesture evoked from the boy. “But if you need help, let us know, okay?” 

Sky didn’t respond aloud, huddling further into himself and giving a brief nod, and after a moment Wild turned away, grabbing his pot off the ground. He dipped it in the stream and filled it with water, then carried it towards the base of the hill to head back up to camp, casting a final look over his shoulder at Sky. 

Blood was dripping into the stream, soaking through the bandage wound around Sky’s forearm and tinging the water pink before it swirled away into nothingness. 

Wild hesitated, mouth opening to say something else. Sky must have sensed it, because he insisted a second time, voice strained, “I’m fine.” 

Wild swallowed, teeth clicking together as he bit back a comment. Not his place. Not his place. 

But what if it was? What if—

“Go make lunch, Wild.” Sky’s voice turned briefly soft again, but Wild could tell it left no room for argument. “I’ll be okay.” 

A breeze blew past, stirring the grass and wildflowers. More blood dripped into the stream. 

The Champion swallowed the misgivings still clamoring within him and nodded. 

“If you say so,” he said again, and turned away. 

Chapter Text

The chain reached the outskirts of Mabe Village in the timespan Wild had predicted, around three days after their arrival in his Hyrule. It was a gorgeous afternoon, golden rays of sun falling across the grass and on the ruins of the village a few hundred yards away, and the tense mood the chain had been trapped in for the past few days all but dissolved in the warm sunlight, vanishing like it had never been there at all. 

The Champion had asked if Sky would help him prepare some stew for lunch, as Time had said they should probably take a break to eat before they investigated the ruins of the village, and Sky had willingly obliged, glad to have something to occupy his mind with. He had dumped his gear amongst the rest of the chain’s and eagerly joined Wild at his cooking pot, taking a seat in the grass and listening to the Champion’s rambling instructions as he darted to and fro with ingredients. 

In spite of everything that had happened to him, Sky felt himself smiling as he chopped up an onion for the stew. Even after all the miserable things that had occurred, these past few days had felt almost... normal. The chain– aside from Time, who still looked at him with baleful distrust– seemed completely comfortable with him now; he hadn’t had any nightmares since the night after the river; and… he wasn't sure why, exactly, but he had a good feeling about today. Even though the chain still didn’t know about– 

Sky’s smile faltered, and he shook his head, turning his mind to other things. He was happy for the moment, and he wanted to stay happy. It wouldn’t help to think about that. 

Wild dumped another pile of vegetables in front of Sky, who was more than willing to help slice them up, and wiped his brow as he peered into his cooking pot, which was filled with water that was just beginning to simmer. “I appreciate your help, Sky,” he said, proffering the chosen hero a smile. “I would do it myself, but then it would take longer and Wars would complain.” 

“More than usual?” Sky’s mouth curved upwards in a grin, and Wild laughed. “But anyway, I’m more than happy to do this. I like handling knives, anyway.” 

Wild tipped his head as he added a few pinches of salt to the stew. “How do you mean?”

“Oh–” Sky paused, slicing the ends from a carrot and discarding them. “I’m something of a woodcarver, I guess. I’ve done it since I was a kid.” 

“Oh, awesome!” The Champion dumped a handful of chopped vegetables into his pot, then grabbed a wooden spoon from his gear and stirred it slowly. “I tried woodcarving once and it… didn’t really work, sadly.” He let out a wry chuckle, then glanced at Sky with interest. “Do you have any carvings on you that I could see?” 

“Well, actually…” Sky chewed his lip, setting down his knife for a moment and considering before he pointed. “That spoon.” 

Wild glanced at the utensil, brows furrowing. “Yeah, what about it?” 

“I, uh, that’s a carving of mine. I made it.” Sky rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a little awkward as Wild looked at him in slight confusion. “Back before… when you all still knew me. You broke your favorite spoon, so I carved you a new one.” 

“This one?” Wild lifted the spoon, examining it curiously. “Well, I don’t remember, of course, but– did I thank you for it?” 

“Yeah, you did.” 

“It’s beautiful, Sky.” The Champion ran a finger along the delicate carving on the spoon’s handle, eyes wide. “Now that you mention it, I have been confused about where this came from– I didn’t remember seeing it before, but it was the only one in my gear, so I figured maybe I picked it up somewhere and forgot.” 

He hesitated, noticing the way Sky’s posture drooped slightly. “I’m sorry,” Wild said softly after a pause. “I wish we could remember you.” 

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault.” Sky flashed him a smile, though it didn’t do much to help his heart, and went back to cutting up the vegetables, keeping his gaze fixed on what he was doing. He could tell Wild was watching him, but he didn’t really feel like looking up again. 

After a moment Wild resumed working on the stew, and Sky let out a slight breath of relief, glad to be away from his scrutiny. Ever since the Champion found him by the stream a few days ago bandaging his arm, he had kept a close eye on Sky, which had unnerved the chosen hero more than slightly. He had tried to act like nothing was wrong, and today he had actually felt like that was true, but Wild still seemed to be highly suspicious. 

Still, at least the Champion wasn’t treating him any differently, which Sky supposed he should be thankful for. He was glad Wild hadn’t really asked him any more questions about what happened to his arm, especially since he was determined not to show anyone.

The Champion set another pile of vegetables in front of Sky, whose eyebrows shot up on his forehead. “I thought this was beef stew, not vegetable,” he teased, reaching for a tomato. 

“Eh, bit of both, really.” Wild shrugged, then mock-scowled as Twilight ambled up to the two of them, casually grabbing a carrot from the vegetable pile. “That’s for the stew, numbskull.” 

The rancher grinned, shrugging and taking a triumphant bite of the carrot. “I mean, then it’s getting eaten either way, isn’t it?” 

Wild rolled his eyes, pointing a finger at Twilight and preparing to make a retort, when suddenly a low rumble ran through the earth beneath their feet. The field went perfectly still, insects going silent and birds breaking off mid-song, and even the wind died down, leaving total silence in its wake. 

Another rumble shook the ground. 

“What in tarnation?” Twilight exclaimed, and Sky dropped his knife, jumping to his feet and scanning the field with furrowed brows. Wild, meanwhile, had gone pale, snatching his Sheikah slate from his belt and tapping on it frantically.

“That– that’s not normal,” he said urgently after a moment, horrified gaze meeting Sky’s as he looked up from the screen. “There’s no sign of guardians– and Lynels are loud but I know what they sound like and they don’t sound like that.” 

The earth thudded again, louder this time, and a distant, bloodcurdling roar rent the air.

Sky could see the rest of the chain trading  anxious glances, some reaching for their weapons, others, like Hyrule, running to their packs, likely to grab potions in case something went wrong. A sick, lurching feeling rose in Sky’s throat as he reached to grab Fi and then remembered she wasn’t there. He was defenseless against whatever was coming.

And, judging by the magnitude of the rumbles as the thing got closer, that was not a good sign. 

Sky swallowed, throat suddenly dry as he joined Twilight and Wild in running to meet up with the rest of the chain. “Any idea what that thing is, Champion?” Warriors asked harshly, fumbling with his shield. 

Wild shook his head numbly as he checked on his stock of weapons. “No clue,” he said hoarsely in reply, and the Captain’s face fell. Another roar shattered the air, ear-splittingly loud, pounding into Sky’s skull like a knife. He flinched along with the rest of the chain, heart galloping in his chest as his fingers tensed at his sides. 

Time checked that his sword was firmly in place, glancing over his shoulder at his boys. “We don’t know what’s coming,” he said, voice calm and collected, “so be on your guard. We’ll assess it, and form a strategy to take it down if need be. Stay aware. We don’t–” 

“There!” Wind shouted, interrupting him and pointing to the ruins a few hundred yards away. Something small and dark was emerging from between two crumbled buildings, distant shrieking audible over the shaking of the earth. “What is that?” 

“A– a Bokoblin. What’s–” Wild shook his head. “That’s not causing the shaking, so…” 

“There’s more,” Hyrule stated, pointing as a dark stream began pouring out from the ruins, shrieks intermingling, sunlight glinting off of distant blades. Lower-pitched roars mixed with the shrieks a moment later, and bigger creatures joined the Bokoblins, some medium-sized and some hulkingly large.  

“Moblins and Hinoxes,” Wild exclaimed, strapping his bow across his chest and not taking his eyes off of the monsters. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen them together like that.” 

“More beasts following unusual patterns, then,” Time muttered, palm pressed to his forehead. “This isn’t good considering how many of them there are.” 

“What do you suggest we do? Wait for them to come to us?” Warriors glanced at Time, throwing his scarf over his shoulder. 

“No. No, I think our best strategy is to meet them head-on. We’ll have the element of surprise, at least.” 

“Good plan.” Four was already hopping up and down, shaking his arms out, steeling himself for the fight ahead. He paused, glancing over at Sky. “What about him? He’ll need a weapon, he–”

“Smith,” Time interrupted, exasperated. “For one thing, I don’t trust him to be anywhere near a weapon right now. Secondly, we have no idea if he can even fight. He would doubtless just be a hindrance.” 

“I can fight,” Sky spoke up, breath shallow in his throat. I’m the best swordsman among you. “Please, let me fight. I can help you, you’ll have an extra set of hands, I–” 

“No. You say that you can fight, but there’s no time for you to prove it.” The old man cleared his throat, turning his back on Sky. “The chances of you getting hurt…again…are a little too high in this case. I won’t have an amateur throwing himself into a highly dangerous fight. You would just get in the way, boy.”   

“But I–” 

“Is everyone ready?” Time ignored Sky, speaking over him and glancing at the rest of the chain, who nodded, weapons poised, shields strapped to their forearms. “Then let’s go!” 

The chain charged forward, swords angled, sprinting through the grass towards the line of monsters that was approaching them at an alarming pace, leaving Sky behind. He sank to his knees in shock, watching as they dashed across the field, grass bending beneath their feet, blades glinting in the sun. 

The earth shook a final time, sending the chain off kilter, knocking them into one another as the ground pitched and heaved below their feet. 

Fire spouted from beyond one of the crumbled buildings of the village. 

 Sky’s breath was tight in his chest as he watched it, and the chain came to a scattered halt, some stumbling and falling to their knees as the ground continued to shake. Another column of fire burst into the air. Plumes of smoke curled outwards from it, wreathing the advancing monsters in a blackish-gray haze and wrapping around the chain in a suffocating cloud that obscured them from Sky’s view. 

“Retreat!” Time’s voice called out, hoarse and choked by the unnaturally thick smoke as the earth rolled again. Sky squinted, trying to see through the haze but blinded by it, panic clogging his throat. He didn’t think he had ever felt so helpless. So useless.

 After a moment he saw the glint of armor, the flash of blades, and then Twilight and Legend appeared through the smoke, running disjointedly, stumbling on the shifting ground. Four and Wind came behind them, followed by Wild, Hyrule, and Warriors, and then Time appeared flanking them all, looking over his shoulder and staying behind his boys to make sure they were safe. The shrieks of the monsters followed closely behind the chain, cutting through the smoke as they ran, sweaty and breathless. 

They halted a few dozen yards from Sky, gasping for air and talking in frantic, overlapping voices. Sky pushed to his feet, about to make his way towards them, when suddenly a spout of reddish-gold flame shot horizontally through the smoke, sending the chain scrambling away from it. Fire scorched the grass and set it alight, creating a deadly wall that further hemmed the chain in, hissing with unnatural rage as sparks snapped into the air.

A single frantic thought threaded through Sky’s mind as his brothers picked themselves up, coughing and choking on smoke. 

Sword. He needed a sword.  

Wars– he always kept an extra one in his gear, Sky knew that for sure. He half ran, half stumbled towards where they had left their belongings, searching through the various packs before he finally located the captain’s. He dug frantically through it, fingers finally closing around the cold metal hilt of the spare weapon. 

Sky pulled it free and all but sprinted towards the chain, watching as monsters began pouring into view from the depths of the smoke, eyes glowing in the firelight, drool dripping from their fangs. Time didn’t appear to have noticed Sky’s arrival, but Sky wasn’t sure if he would even have cared had he seen the chosen hero standing there, sword in hand. Based on what they had observed so far, they needed all the hands they could get. 

Sky crouched into a fighting stance along with the rest of the chain, low to the ground, sword poised for battle. Yet the monsters came to a halt just a few yards away from them, licking their lips and gripping their clubs and spears but making no move to attack. 

“They’re waiting for something,” Twilight said, foreboding thick in his voice. 

“But what?” Wind asked, voice barely audible over the crackle of flames and the guttural sounds of the monsters. 

“All I can think of is fire wizzrobes due to the flames,” Wild started to say, “but I’ve never–” 

The earth rumbled again. 

Then, through the smoke, a shadowy silhouette appeared, larger than the Hinoxes grouped at the back of the horde, larger than the Lynels Wild had told them about, larger than the structures that once stood intact in Mabe Village.

A set of eyes gleamed red through the haze. 

“That’s no wizzrobe,” Time said in a voice that was low with dread. 

A blast of fire shot through the smoke, and then the shadowed creature’s head emerged, its scaled neck weaving through the air, fangs long and curved as it opened its mouth and roared so loud the very air vibrated. 

A set of wings unfurled on the thing’s back, sweeping away the smoke and revealing it fully in its magnificence. 

“Dragon!” Legend cried. 

The beast watched them for a moment, eyes glowing like coals before it unhinged its jaws again. Sparks popped at the back of its throat, and frantically Time began shoving the rest of the chain out of the way, screaming at them to run, to get away, to survive. “Not without you!” Twilight yelled at him over the hiss of the flames, grabbing at Time’s arm and pulling him along after the others as flames poured from the dragon’s mouth in a flood. 

The dragon roared again, the air rippling as its head wove back and forth. The line of monsters at its feet licked their lips and gripped their weapons tighter, seeming to obey whatever command the beast had given, and began advancing towards the chain as they scrambled to get to safety. 

“We need to get around them and take cover in the village,” Warriors shouted as they ran. “There’s no shelter out here.” 

“Captain is right,” Legend panted, running next to Sky, stumbling in the grass. “There’s a gap up there; we should be able to make it through if we hurry.” 

Time nodded, coughing against inhaled smoke and angling towards the area Legend had pointed out, and the rest of them followed, panic seizing them as the dragon roared flame at their heels. A cramp erupted in Sky’s side as they sprinted through the grass; he wasn’t used to running for long, hard periods of time, but they still had at least fifty yards before they would reach the first ruins of the village. He forced himself onward, encouraging Wind as they ran, breath sawing painfully in his lungs. 

“Keep going,” Time shouted, voice hoarse, looking over his shoulder to see that they were all accounted for. The others were pulling ahead of Sky, gasping air into their lungs, arms and legs pumping as they made a final desperate burst towards the village. Sky stumbled, hitting the ground hard and rolling as pain erupted through his body. Must not stop, must not stop– 

He was about to flip onto his stomach in order to get to his feet when a hand hauled him upwards. Warriors. The captain gave him a nod, then grabbed Sky’s hand in his own sweaty one and yanked him forward, pulling them into a sprint again, not letting Sky slow until at last they were amongst the ruins of the village and had shelter. 

They collapsed behind a mound of broken rubble, breath loud and rough as they gulped in air and took stock of their surroundings. The earth was shaking as the dragon pivoted to face them again, smoke and flame curling from its nostrils as its chest heaved in rage. 

“What do we do? Have any of you ever fought a dragon that big?” Twilight hissed. “I mean, I’ve fought a dragon, just not one that size–” 

“We need to look for its weak spot,” Time panted, dragging one arm across his forehead to wipe away sweat. “I would guess its eyes or perhaps under its wings.” 

“Monsters are coming,” Hyrule hissed, peering over the edge of a crumbled wall. “And fast.” 

“Let me know when they’re around thirty feet away, traveler,” the old man ordered, and Hyrule nodded, gripping the wall tightly and not taking his eyes off the advancing beasts. 

Sky drew a ragged breath, still not recovered from their wild sprint across the field, and tightened his grip on Warriors’ spare weapon. 

“I’m glad you’re fighting with us after all, kid,” the captain whispered, bumping Sky lightly with his shoulder. “Even if it’s with my sword.” 

Sky gave him a breathless smile, head tilting back to rest against the rock behind them, fingers white-knuckled on the hilt of his sword. His heart beat rapidly in his ears, blood rushing through his veins. Thumpthudthumpthudthumpthud. 

“Time. They’re about thirty feet from us,” Hyrule announced, voice stretched thin. 

“Ok, boys,” Time said in a low voice, pushing to his knees. “Let’s go!” 

They leaped out from behind the rubble, swords raised as they charged the monsters a second time. The front of the beasts was composed entirely of Bokoblins, which were easy enough to cleave through, but Moblins and finally Hinoxes followed at their heels. And behind them all loomed the dragon, smoky breath coiling through the air, its eyes burning like fire as it watched, wings unfurled. 

They clashed into the front line of Bokoblins with a flash of swords, plunging their blades swiftly through the monsters and leaving their corpses behind. Sky found himself between Warriors and Twilight, the three of them watching each others’ backs as they battled with the monsters. Sweat dripped into Sky’s eyes as he fought the Bokoblins with the skill he had grown up honing, twirling and thrusting his blade with expertise, dropping monster upon monster until there was a veritable stack on the ground. 

Together he and Warriors took down a Moblin, then a Hinox, then a cluster of Bokoblins. Above them the dragon exhaled smoke, its eyes glowing like fiery coals, but did nothing else, merely staring at them with its wings spread like a bat’s. 

“What’s it doing?” Twilight panted, wiping his sweaty forehead and staring up at the dragon. “It’s not moving. I—”

“Whatever it’s doing…” Sky swallowed, watching as the dragon’s gleaming eyes drifted over the battle scene below it, wisps of smoke curling from its nostrils. “It needs to be taken out quickly before it decides to start actually inflicting damage.” 

“How do you suggest?” Warriors said, spinning out of the way of a Bokoblin before decapitating it with a swift blow of his sword. “Time said weak points might be its eyes or under its wings, I think–” 

“I think–” Sky huffed out a breath, driving his sword through another Bokoblin’s chest. “Between the eyes.” 

“Between them?” Twilight looked startled, peering up at the dragon again. “Do any of our bows actually shoot that far?” 

“I don’t think a single, or even a handful, of arrows would do it; its scales are likely too thick to pierce from this distance.” Sky rolled to one side to avoid a Moblin, giving Legend a nod as the veteran took the beast out. “Sword seems like the best option to me.” 

“Sword?” Warriors rolled his eyes, dodging a Hinox. “Oh yeah, sure, let’s just waltz on up there–”

Sky grinned, patting the captain on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’ve dealt with massive scaly things before; I know what to do.” 

He gave them a mock salute, then gripped his sword in one hand and charged the dragon, ignoring the protesting shouts that erupted behind him and ducking between the dragon’s front legs. He ran beneath it for a moment in the space under its chest and then darted out to its side, just in front of where its massive left wing began. 

Sky drew a breath, tucking Warriors’ sword into his belt before he gripped onto the dragon’s scaly sides with both hands and hauled himself upwards. So long as he kept good balance and made sure to be holding on with one hand at all times, he should be fine. 

Theoretically. 

Sky’s breath was tight in his lungs as he climbed higher, weaving his way slowly up the dragon’s long and twisting body, just beside the ridge of plates that rose up from the center of its neck. He felt the beast roar, the vibrations of it shuddering below his hands and the soles of his boots, and swallowed, ignoring his doubts and continuing to climb. He would be fine. Just get to the top, stab between the eyes, fine. 

He heard someone shouting from far below. What was that? Were they calling to him? Sky paused, tipping his head and listening, but– 

“Sky! The wings!” 

A bolt of alarm shot through him, and he whipped his head around to look over his shoulder. Horror filled him upon seeing that the dragon’s massive wings were lifting high into the air, curving slightly as the beast prepared to flap them downwards again in order to lift off of the ground. But… that was okay, wasn’t it? Sky grew up riding Loftwings thousands of feet above the earth— he should be used to that, at least. Anyway, Zelda’s sailcloth was clipped firmly around his neck should he fall. 

I’ll be fine. 

He drew a breath and resumed climbing, which proved to be difficult as the dragon lifted into the air, its neck moving this way and that. Sky didn’t think the creature could tell someone was holding on to it, but at the same time, the mere movements of it as it lifted off didn’t exactly make it easy to hold on. I got this, I got this, I’ll be okay–

Sky exhaled sharply, boots slipping a little on the dragon’s scales as he moved higher up its neck. Only a few dozen yards to go, and he should be up near the horns that jutted from its skull, close enough to grab one and haul himself the rest of the way onto its head. Just a few more yards.

 Just a few more. 

The chosen hero furrowed his brows, eyes squinting against the lash of wind as the dragon rose higher in the air, and continued onwards, hand over hand, inch by inch, until at last the roughened curves and ridges of the dragon’s horns were only a foot or two away. Sky pulled himself up one final time and then strained, reaching, reaching–

His hand brushed the edge of the dragon’s left horn, and Sky curved his palm around one of the ridges there, then hauled himself upward onto the top of the beast’s skull, where he stood for a moment catching his breath and marveling at the sights spread out below him. He could see the ongoing battle far below, dust swirling hazily into the air, sunlight glinting off blades, small figures moving back and forth.

The wind was strong up here, lashing at his sailcloth and whipping hair into his face. If it hadn’t been for the dragon he stood atop, smoke boiling out of its nostrils as a roar shook it from head to tail, Sky might have imagined he was on Skyloft, standing at the edge and staring out at the endless horizon. 

Still gripping the dragon’s horn in one hand, Sky took a hesitant step forward on its head, then another. He could see the ridges of the dragon’s forehead where its eyes would be just below his feet and reached for his sword, breath trembling in his throat. Just one swift stab. Just one quick thrust of his blade between the dragon’s eyes, and it would be all over. 

Sky shut his eyes, drawing a breath to steady himself, and then pulled his sword free of his belt, letting go of the dragon’s horn and gripping the sword’s hilt firmly  in both hands. He braced himself, lifting the sword, ready to strike–

Fire spouted from the dragon’s mouth, filling the air and searing Sky’s skin. He yelped, stumbling sideways and nearly losing his grip on the sword, but regained his balance just in time. He could hear yells from far below as the fire descended on the chain, as the monsters shrieked and howled. One scream rose up even to this altitude, so faint Sky barely caught what it said, but he heard it nonetheless.

“Sky! Kill it!” 

Sky nodded, even though the gesture was meaningless from way up here, before he raised his sword high over his head and stabbed, directly between the eyes of the dragon. 

But his blade merely bounced off of the beast’s scales, sending Sky stumbling backwards. He hissed, the impact shooting up his arms in a jolt of pain, and then regained his balance, staring in horror. His sword hadn’t even made so much as a dent in the dragon’s skull, and the beast appeared entirely unbothered. 

So much for my idea, Sky scoffed to himself. 

Eyes. Eyes next, those might work. The chosen hero moved into position and stabbed each of them in quick succession, but although a horrible roar of pain burst from the dragon, the injuries did little to stop the beast and in fact only served to enrage him further. He howled, his scream echoing to the horizon as his wings beat the air, and blindly spewed flame at his now invisible foe, wings curling as he spun midair in a raging fury, seeking for his enemy. For Sky.  

Sky’s hand was sweaty on the hilt of his sword as he clung to the dragon’s horn with his other arm, wind sweeping past him, his brain desperately trying to think of a solution. What could he do? Descending again to try to reach the wings would be madness, and he doubted stabbing near them would even work, considering that it hadn’t when he tried stabbing between the eyes. The scales were just too thick. 

So then what—

Oh. 

Scaldera. 

A memory– throwing bombs into the monster’s mouth to kill it from the inside out– flashed into Sky’s head, along with an idea. 

A horrible idea, granted, but an idea nonetheless. 

Sky tucked his sword back into his belt, huffed out a breath to steel himself, and then leaped off the ridge of the dragon’s forehead, somersaulting through the air before landing solidly on the bridge of its nose. He rolled forward a few feet before tumbling to a stop and leaping into a standing position again, where he took stock of his surroundings. He could see heat simmering from the dragon’s nostrils just a few feet away– there. That was where he needed to go. 

Sky shook his head, shaking out his arms a little and sending up a silent prayer, and then charged forward into a running sprint. Just as he arrived between the dragon’s massive nostrils, he dug in his heels, throwing his body backwards and sliding the rest of the way off the dragon’s snout, where he plunged forward into empty air. 

Wind whipped past his face, and Sky reached out, desperate, flailing, fingers stretching uselessly. 

One hand latched onto the dragon’s scaly lower lip, effectively stopping his fall, and Sky dangled midair, breathless and unable to believe that it had worked. 

But that, Sky reminded himself after a moment, was only half of his idea. Nonetheless, it bolstered his courage that the first half had been successful, that he had stopped his fall, that he wasn’t currently plunging end over end towards the ground. 

(Not yet, anyway). 

Now, if the beast would just unhinge its jaws once more, everything would be perfect. 

Clinging to the dragon’s lip with both hands now, Sky waited. 

Come on, you scaly wad of flesh. Come on. 

After a long, breathless moment he felt its lower jaw moving, a gleam of teeth showing as the dragon’s mouth began to slowly open. Another roar erupted from deep within it as it continued to fly blindly through the air, blood streaming from the sockets where its eyes had once been, and Sky saw his chance as its jaws fully parted. 

He grabbed onto one of the dragon’s glistening white teeth and then hauled himself up into its mouth, scrambling into a standing position on its black tongue before looking around wide-eyed. Coals were beginning to burn at the back of the dragon’s throat, and Sky saw sparks sizzling up from its gullet as a wave of heat swept over him. 

It was now or never. 

In a single deft movement, Sky whipped his sword from his belt and stabbed upwards with all of his strength into the soft and fleshy roof of the dragon’s mouth, right where its throat began. 

Black blood gushed down from around Sky’s blade, soaking him in inky liquid and spattering his face, and the dragon roared again, more heat bursting from the back of its throat as it thrashed wildly in the air. At any moment now it would spew fire at whatever enemy had just mortally stabbed its mouth, and Sky would be burnt to a veritable crisp if he didn’t act quickly.  

He all but ripped his sword from the dragon’s throat, letting loose a torrent of blood, and then scrambled madly towards its teeth, beyond which stretched the sky, blue and endless and lit by the sun. He could feel panic clawing at his gut as he lurched off-balance towards the daylight, arms outstretched, reaching. A few more feet. Just a few more feet. 

And just as the dragon exhaled, just as fire came surging from its gullet and out between its teeth, Sky jumped, arms and legs flailing, caught in slow-motion as the flames nipped at the soles of his boots before he tumbled, head over heels, hair whipping around him as he fell in an out-of-control plunge towards the ground.  

Air streamed past his face, drawing tears from his eyes, but in spite of the fact that he was covered in dragon blood and was currently falling towards the ground at an alarming rate, Sky felt himself smile. Broad, carefree. 

This is more like it.

The earth was getting closer, the ongoing battle below rising swiftly to meet him, and it was now or never. Sky rolled his body, forcing it out of the chaotic plunge it had been trapped in, and tucked Warriors’s sword into his belt once more before angling himself into a flat position to slow his descent. Just a few hundred more yards. 

As the ground moved ever closer, so close now he could make out the individual forms of his brothers, Sky whipped his sailcloth off of his shoulders and let it snap open, the sturdy fabric abruptly stopping his fall.  

His boots touched the grass a moment or two later. Above him the dragon roared a final time, an empty, hollow echo depleted of its previous power, and let its wings go limp, flames spewing from its mouth in a final glorious display as its carcass rushed down towards the earth. Smoke billowed into the sky, black drops of blood raining into the air, and then the dragon’s corpse crashed into the ground with an earthshaking thud and was still. 

“Sky! Sky! Oh, dear Hylia, you absolute maniac—”

Warriors was running towards him, beaming with Moblin blood smeared on his skin and his sword gripped in one hand, and Sky returned his smile, wiping the blade of his own sword on the grass and clipping his sailcloth around his neck again. “Dragon’s dead,” he announced with a grin, as if that wasn’t already obvious. 

“You don’t say,” Warriors snorted, clapping him on the back and surveying the chosen hero with admiration. “Holy Hylia, kid. I didn’t know you had that in you.” 

Sky shrugged, wiping blood off of his hands and tilting his head. “Most people don’t.” 

The captain grinned, looking oddly proud as he continued, “Well, anyway, nice going.” 

“Yeah, great job clearing out the dragon,” Twilight shouted from a few yards away, bringing them both back into reality, “but we’ve still got monsters to deal with here.” 

Sky scanned the field. There were indeed a few dozen monsters left– a handful of Bokoblins, one or two Moblins, a final Hinox. Nothing too bad, right? 

“You up for it?” Warriors asked, glancing towards Sky with awe still on his face. 

Sky flexed his fingers a little. Aside from slightly burned skin, he was fine. He could still fight. “I’m in,” he answered, and charged forward into the fray without waiting for a response, sword lifted high with black dragon blood still trickling down its blade. 

“Sky—” Wind was yelling something over the din as the chosen hero whirled past him, blade lodged deep in a Bokoblin’s throat. “That was bloody awesome —”

“Thanks,” Sky called back, ducking as a Moblin swung its club at his chest. “But any of you could've done it, too. It wasn’t that impressive, trust me.”

“If you say so, you lunatic,” scoffed Legend, spinning past Sky locked in a duel with a Bokoblin. “Looked pretty sick from where I was standing.” 

Sky grinned, knowing that from Legend that was a huge compliment, and was about to shoot back a reply when something— maybe instinct, maybe a sinking gut feeling— made him turn and scan the battlefield. Only a few monsters were left at this point, each member of the chain occupied with taking them out, but something was wrong. Sky scanned each of his brothers with growing panic, tension clawing its way into his lungs, and then froze in horror, realizing suddenly where the sinking feeling was coming from. 

Time was fighting a short distance from the others, unnoticed by the rest of the chain as they finished their own battles. A golden Moblin was charging towards him, spittle flying from its mouth, spiked club gripped in its hands, and Time didn’t see, his back turned to it as he grappled with a pair of Bokoblins. 

The panic in Sky’s chest simultaneously erupted and clogged in his throat at the sight. “Time!” he shouted hoarsely, but his voice was lost to the clashing sounds of weapons and snarls of the monsters, unheard by its target. 

Sky slashed his sword through the head of a Bokoblin as it approached him, then leaped over its corpse, moving towards Time in a frantic sprint. Surely the old man would turn before the beast reached him. Surely he would see. 

The Moblin let out a guttural shriek and swung its club violently into the air, only a foot or two away from where Time was finishing off the two Bokoblins. 

Sky didn’t hesitate. 

The Moblin’s club flashed swiftly downward through the air right as Sky leapt in front of Time, taking the blow meant for him, the spikes of the club tearing into his chest with excruciating force. He didn’t even have the breath to scream as the force of the slash knocked him to his knees in front of the monster, as Time turned away from the fallen Bokoblins and stared down at him in horror. 

Sky’s vision swirled before him as the Moblin yanked its club free from his chest, peeling it from his skin with a wet ripping sound. He heard his own horrified breath whistling in his ears, felt every beat of his pulse through his veins as time itself seemed to slow, and then, before anyone else could make a move, a yell was tearing from Sky’s throat and he was forcing himself upwards, ignoring the pain that radiated through his body as he lifted his sword and drove it deep into the Moblin’s heart. 

Sweat poured down Sky’s face as he tipped his head back and screamed with the effort, blood soaking through his tunic, his arm twisting the blade until black blood gushed out in torrents around the metal and the monster hit the earth with a ground-shaking thud, its eyes blank and cold. 

Then, and only then, did Sky allow the sword to fall from his hands. 

He staggered backwards a step before dropping to his knees in the grass, breath whistling through punctured lungs, thick yellow spots dancing across his vision. Dazedly he touched one hand to his chest, feeling a sticky, warm liquid seep across his fingertips. Sky coughed, searing pain jerking across his torso, and raised his hand slowly up in front of his face, staring dumbly, incomprehensibly at the thick red blood that coated his palm and fingers and trickled down to his wrist.  

His vision was darkening, and all he could think was not now. 

Not yet. 

Sky choked on blood and pitched sideways onto the grass, sweat-soaked hair plastered across his forehead, fingers twitching loosely as he gasped and labored for air. He didn’t want to die, not yet. Not like this. Not all alone. 

Voices filled his ears, frantic, distant. There was a thump of bodies as the last of the monsters were hewn down, and then pounding footsteps moved through the grass, echoing dully in Sky’s ears. Hyrule was shouting something about needing potions, hands were grabbing Sky’s arms and shoulders, someone was crying, and Sky couldn’t breathe. 

And suddenly, horribly, there came a crackling hiss from somewhere behind them, and a portal swirled into view.

“Hylia!” cursed someone— maybe Legend, maybe Wild— “that’s the last thing we need right now—"

“We have to get him through it, we can’t leave him here–” 

Their voices were swirling together in a confusing blend of noise, and Sky closed his eyes, body convulsing as the ground dipped and swayed beneath him, as the air drained slowly from his veins along with his lifeblood. It was getting harder to breathe, now. Every inhale felt like a thousand shards of glass piercing his lungs. 

“Twi, can you carry him, we don’t have much time—" someone called frantically. 

“Yes, I–” 

“I can carry him.”  

Someone interrupted Twilight, loud and clear above the din of colliding voices, and the chain fell silent. 

“Are…you sure?” Warriors stammered.

“Yes.” 

A pair of hands slid under Sky, one under his shoulders and the other below his knees, and then he was weightless, lifting into the air like he weighed no more than a feather, arms swinging loosely as his head and side pressed against someone’s chest. There was a steady heartbeat below his ear, thumping in a tangible, steady rhythm, and Sky groaned a little as he felt the person holding him take a step forward, his eyes cracking open slightly at the movement. 

"Shhh," a voice murmured above him. His head was tucked in the crook of the person’s neck. "Don't try to move. I've got you." 

"Who–" He choked on blood, gagged, tried again. "Who is–"

"Time." The voice was even-keeled, but there was a note of softness to it. "It's Time." 

Sky's eyes widened, and he tilted his head slightly in an effort to look up, his gaze landing on Time's chin. "But…I thought–" 

"It doesn't matter now." There was a barely audible tremor to Time’s voice, and Sky could've sworn the old man held him just a bit tighter as he walked. "Shut your eyes, Sky. I'm getting you to safety." 

Sky let his eyes slip shut, his head falling to rest on Time's chest. "Okay," he whispered, too tired, too weak to resist any more as a haze began drifting over his mind. 

"Not much longer," Time murmured thickly in Sky’s ear, and then the darkness swirled around him and he knew no more.

Chapter Text

Stepping through the portal was almost like entering another universe entirely. 

Whereas the land they had just been in was charred and blackened with smoke and flames and corpses, this one… 

This one was alive.

The air here smelled so pure, so clean, like it had scarcely been touched for millennia. Flowers scattered with fallen leaves bloomed in a lush carpet on the floor of the forest Time now stood in, and emerald green leaves tinged with red and gold rustled in a gentle breeze overhead, yellow fruits hanging amongst them. Shattered bursts of vibrant blue sky could be seen through gaps in the treetops, and the distant roar of a waterfall echoed faintly in the cool air.

Time shifted his grip on the boy in his arms, all too aware of the warm blood dripping onto his hands and soaking through his shirt from Sky’s body as he frantically ran through their options in his head. Had they come here under normal conditions, he would have stopped and admired the beauty of the forest they were in, but right now Sky was bleeding out in his arms and there was no time. 

The first thing to do was figure out whose Hyrule they were in and then go from there. Time turned to check that the others had made it safely through the portal and saw a few of them straggling in at the back, carrying the rest of the chain’s gear, which they hadn’t had much time to run and snatch up for fear of the portal closing. “Does anyone recognize this Hyrule?” Time asked them, a bit harsher than he meant. 

There was a moment of silence as the others perused their surroundings, followed by a nearly collective head shake as they traded uncertain glances. 

“Well… that doesn’t matter for right now, I suppose. We’ve got to get help, or at least find somewhere safe so Hyrule can try healing him.” Time hoisted Sky a little higher, glancing down at his ashen face and the blood soaking the front of his tunic with a lump building in his throat. “We’d better keep walking.” 

He turned away from them and began making his way through the forest, in search of something– anything – that could shelter Sky, that could keep him stable while Hyrule tried to heal him. Although, not that he would ever tell his boys, he didn’t have much hope that Sky could be saved even with Hyrule’s magic. 

And– he couldn’t stop thinking about– 

About why he was even here in the first place, Sky bleeding to death in his arms. 

Time had just been finishing off two Bokoblins back in Wild’s Hyrule, driving his sword through their hearts, when a guttural roar sounded from directly behind him, and with a start he had realized–too late, as it turned out– he was about to be attacked. He had yanked his sword free of the Bokoblins’s corpses and turned just in time to see Sky springing between him and the massive club of a Moblin, just in time to see the spikes embed themselves in Sky’s chest and knock him to his knees. 

Everything had seemed to slow then into horrifying, abysmal clarity, as if the seconds had changed into hours, as if the scene before him was playing out over the span of a thousand lifetimes. Sky’s eyes had gone wide in horrified shock, his mouth opening in a soundless gasp, and after a few seconds that seemed to stretch on for eternity, the Moblin had ripped its club out of his chest with violence, sending spurts of crimson blood into the air. 

Move, Time’s brain had told him, but he was frozen, as if this were a nightmare and he was the prey. Unable to move, unable to run. Unable to hide. 

But he wasn’t the prey after all, was he?

Sky was. 

The boy had knelt in the grass for a moment longer, gasping air in through whistling lungs as his face slowly drained of its color. Then before any of the chain could regain their senses and come to his aid, he had staggered blindly to his feet again and killed the Moblin himself, driving his sword through its heart and screaming like a wild beast, not relinquishing his grip on his weapon until the monster lay dead at his feet. 

Sky’s sword had fallen to the ground with a loose clang, dripping with black Moblin blood. Time had then watched, frozen in shock, as the boy crumpled to his knees once more, his breath whistling loosely through lungs that were no doubt punctured, his face pasty and bloodless. Sky had placed one hand dazedly against his chest and lifted it to stare at it in shock, not comprehending the blood that glistened on his fingers, before he had slowly toppled sideways onto the grass, eyes blank and body twitching. 

That had snapped the rest of the chain back into themselves, and they had quickly finished off the rest of the monsters before rushing to Sky’s side in a desperate attempt to save him. Hyrule was frantically calling out for potions, not that they would really help; Warriors and Twilight were kneeling by Sky to hold him steady; Wind looked near tears; and Time–

It was safe to say Time hadn’t felt so useless since he was a child, alone and afraid. 

He had simply stood off to one side, watching the scene fold out before him and unable to speak, just staring as Sky’s blood pooled in the grass below him. That was around when the portal had appeared, and instant panic had struck the chain as they began discussing what they should do. 

(Who’s going to carry him?) 

(We can’t leave him here–) 

Time had stared down at Sky, watching as he convulsed violently in the grass with blood pumping out of his chest, and the only thing he could think was that could be me. 

It should be me. 

But Sky had jumped in front of him, had willingly put his life on the line for someone who had only ever treated him with animosity, and now he was the one on the ground, bleeding to death in Time’s place. 

And Time didn’t understand it, didn’t know why Sky would have thrown his own life away to save him, but there was one thing he did understand with his entire being.  

He would never have doubts about this boy, ever again. 

Sky was featherlight in his arms now, pressed firmly against his chest with his head tucked in the crook of Time’s neck, one arm swinging loosely as the old man moved with frantic speed through the woods looking for shelter. For people. For anything. The chain followed closely behind him, not speaking, the only sound coming from the swish of boots through the carpet of leaves and flowers. The forest was so still that Time could hear the whistle in Sky’s labored breathing, along with the thump of his own desperate heartbeat in his ears. 

But– there was something else, too. Some kind of distant, echoing ringing. 

“I know that sound,” Twilight said, stepping up next to Time as the old man halted and looked around in perplexion. “An axe. Someone’s chopping wood.” 

Someone. 

People. 

Time shifted directions without speaking, moving in the direction of the noise, Sky’s blood continuing to trickle down across his arms and tunic the more he walked. The boy’s face was coated in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead, and a faint stream of crimson was beginning to leak from his lips.

Please don’t die, Time implored him silently, and looked up again in time to see that the trees were thinning, the ringing in the air more clear now. 

He emerged a moment later into a large clearing carpeted in fallen leaves, his gaze landing almost instantly on the source of the ringing– a red-haired man was chopping wood only a few yards away, his back to the chain as they trickled one by one from the tangle of trees. 

“Excuse me,” Time called out urgently, Sky mumbling deliriously in his arms as he paced towards the man, leaves crunching underfoot. “Sir?” 

The man paused mid-swing, turning to face Time and wiping sweat from his forehead with the handle of his axe gripped in his other hand. “Yeah, what?” 

“Please, we– we need help,” Time responded hoarsely, right as the man’s gaze fell to the dying boy in his arms. “He’s been gravely injured. Is there any sort of shelter– anywhere at all– he needs somewhere stable.” 

The man hesitated, eyes still taking in the thick red blood bubbling from Sky’s chest and soaking into his tunic, before he nodded slowly. “Yeah, just up this way; come with me.” 

 He set his axe down against a fallen log, then led them towards a roughly hewn path meandering further into the trees, the chain following close behind him. Sky mumbled again in Time’s arms, his face twisting in discomfort as they wove through the forest beneath the leafy canopy of red and green and gold. He was dangerously pale, his lips beginning to take on a blue tint, and Time could feel his sanity threatening to unravel, his soul crumbling the further they walked. 

What have I done to you, Sky? 

After several minutes they followed the red-haired man out of the woods into a larger clearing, where a few scanty buildings could be seen, still in the process of being assembled. People flitted about in various areas of the clearing, carting tools and supplies and huddling around parchments, but their gazes were drawn almost simultaneously to the chain as they emerged from the trees. Time could hear whispers erupting from them after a moment of silence, and impatience clawed at his throat. They didn’t have time for this. They–

“Lemme go find Zelda,” the red-haired man said, interrupting his train of thought, and disappeared into the gathering crowd. 

The chain went still, trading a collective glance.  

“Am I hearing things, or did he just say Zelda?” Legend asked bluntly once a few seconds had passed, one eyebrow arched as he voiced the question they were all thinking.  

“If you’re hearing things then so am I,” Hyrule answered, eyes wide. 

“But I thought– I thought this wasn’t any of our Hyrules,” Four said uncertainly, taking a step closer to Time and looking up at him in confusion. 

“It’s not,” the old man said thickly after a beat with further guilt swelling in his chest, the pieces finally clicking into place as he looked down at Sky once more. 

“Then–” 

“I think it might be his.” 

“What?” Twilight cut himself off, turning to frown at Time, who was lowering himself carefully into a kneeling position. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean– Sky.” Time swallowed, setting the boy down gently on the grass. “I think this is Sky’s Hyrule. It… it would make sense, wouldn’t it? If–” He paused, then corrected himself. “–Because he’s been telling the truth.” 

“Oh, so you believe him all of a sudden, then?” Warriors spoke up cuttingly, arms folding over his chest as a scowl crossed his face. “All it took was him nearly dying, is that it?” 

“I–” Numbness washed over Time, and he flinched, looking down at Sky again and brushing the boy’s bangs carefully out of his eyes. He didn’t have an answer to that, not even for himself. 

Warriors glared at him for a moment, his gaze icy, and then sighed and pressed his fingertips to his forehead. “Don’t take it to heart, old man,” he muttered, voice wavering slightly. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know you didn’t, captain. No need to apologize.” 

Warriors’ expression lightened just a little, and he knelt beside Time after a few seconds, reaching out to wipe sweat from Sky’s face with his scarf. “I hope help comes soon,” he murmured, daring a glance at the old man. “Usually when people are in this state– a-at least, from my experience as a soldier–” He grimaced, not finishing his sentence and instead taking one of Sky’s cold hands in his own. He didn’t have to continue for Time to understand what he meant.

They didn’t have long. 

Sky’s body was beginning to twitch loosely, the blue in his lips starting to stain the rest of his skin as well, when the red-haired man finally returned. “Hey, I brought help for ya,” he announced, stepping aside to reveal someone behind him– a girl, no older than Sky himself, with golden-blonde hair and deep blue eyes.

Time would have recognized those eyes anywhere. 

“You’re Zelda, I take it,” he addressed the girl, ignoring the murmurs that rippled through the chain upon seeing her. 

She nodded in response, murmuring something to Groose before her gaze drifted down to Sky.  Horror crossed her face upon seeing the blood spurting from his chest and the deep crimson that already covered his skin and tunic. “What happened to him?” she gasped, kneeling down on the other side of Sky and reaching out to touch his face with one hand. 

Time was opening his mouth to answer when a sudden groan tore loose from Sky, his face twisting in horrible pain as he shifted uncomfortably on the grass. A moment later his eyes, which were cloudy with delirium, cracked open and settled first on Time, who he stared at without recognition, before moving to look at Zelda. 

Sky’s entire face changed, shifting from agony to joy, his feverish eyes widening as a bloodied smile beamed over his face. 

“Zel– Zelda! You’re here, you’re really here, I– but how, when did…?” He paused in order to cough violently for a moment, blood dripping between his lips, before trying to push himself up on arms that were too weak to support him. He fell back into the grass after a few seconds, panting for air as more blood oozed from his chest. “Zelda?” he rasped falteringly, watching her with half-closed eyes. “Aren’t you happy to… to see me?” 

Time glanced up at Zelda, who was pulling away from Sky with her brows slightly drawn together. “He really must be delirious,” she said with a light laugh, though her face was troubled and more than a little confused. “We’d better get him inside quickly and taken care of. I’ve already sent Groose to Skyloft for some additional help, if you’d like to follow me.” 

“Nothing I’d like better,” Time answered, leaning to lift Sky again as Zelda started to stand up. A panicked look crossed Sky’s face, and he reached out with one trembling hand, catching hold of her sleeve with bloodied fingers and stopping her. “Where are you going?” he said in a voice slurred from delirium, yet his eyes were bright with alarm. “You’re not–” He cut himself off, choking on blood, eyes going wide in bewildered panic as he vainly gasped for air. 

Time swept Sky up into his arms again in an instant as he struggled for breath, turning to Zelda again. “We don’t have much time,” he said in a low voice. “Where should I take him?” 

“This way,” she answered quickly, getting fully to her feet and beckoning with one hand. She gave Sky a final concerned look before ducking into the small crowd that had gathered, Time preparing to follow behind her. 

Sky cried out hoarsely in Time’s arms just then and lunged with one trembling hand, pushing against Time’s chest with the other. “Zelda!” he shrieked, eyes wide with panic, tears leaking down his face. “Come back, where are you going–” 

“Sky, calm down,” Time tried to soothe him, moving forward as the crowd parted to give them space. “She’s not leaving you; she’s just up there–” 

“But she promised,” Sky sobbed, nonsensical, struggling wildly in Time’s arms. “She promised she would always be waiting for me, no matter what–” 

“Sky, she’s right there–” 

Sky wasn’t listening, sudden horror crossing his face as he began coughing again. “Wait,” he gasped, tears filling his eyes as he finally went limp in Time’s grip. “Wait. Does she–” He paused, hacking for air, face twisting in pain and confusion before the realization of something settled over his countenance. 

“Does she what?” Time prompted, moving through the crowd in Zelda’s wake. She was leading them towards what looked to be the only finished building in the clearing, glancing over her shoulder every few steps to check that they were still following. 

“–She doesn’t know who I am, does she?” Sky finally choked, tears spilling down his face and mingling with the blood smeared around his mouth and chin. “She doesn’t know, just like you all, she’s forgotten me–” He was sobbing, his fingers twisting weakly into the fabric of Time’s tunic, skin whiter than the cloak clasped round his neck. “It can’t– no, no, it isn’t true, it’s not true– Zelda!” 

Her name flew from his lips in a terrified shriek, and she turned a final time, blue eyes wide and almost frightened as she stared back at him. 

“Zelda!” Sky shrieked again, arms flailing wildly as he once more fought against Time, who was too strong for him in Sky’s weakened state. “Zelda! It’s me, it’s Link– it’s me–”  He broke off, coughing again with spastic jerks of his body, tears flooding down his face. “Please, please, say you remember me– say you know who I am– please– ” 

He trailed into sudden silence, ceasing to struggle, and Time looked down at him in alarm as ahead of them Zelda ran towards the finished building and yanked open the door. Sky’s eyes had slipped shut again, blood dripping from his mouth, his head tipped back against Time’s shoulder. The exertion of speaking, of screaming had been too much for him, knocking him into unconsciousness once more. His chest was just barely rising and falling, each breath piercing the air with a horrific, rasping whistle that may as well have been a death knell to Time’s ears. 

His throat was tight as he carried Sky through the open doorway of the building, half-stumbling as Zelda led him up a flight of stairs and into a room furnished with a bed and table. “Put him here,” she directed urgently, pointing to the table and stepping back as Time laid Sky’s unconscious form carefully onto its surface. 

“Help me get his shirt and armor off,” he commanded Twilight and Warriors as they entered the room behind him, already fumbling to unbuckle Sky’s belt with shaking hands. The rancher and captain hurried forward to assist, and together the three of them eased Sky carefully out of his bloodsoaked tunic, chainmail, and overshirt. 

All that was left was his undershirt, the laces of which were so soaked through with blood they wouldn’t come undone in order to remove it. Twilight grabbed a knife from his belt and slashed quickly through the laces, then peeled the soaked fabric of the shirt carefully away from Sky’s damaged skin before drawing a breath. 

“Ready?” the rancher whispered, and tugged the shirt fully over Sky’s head, leaving his torso bared for all to see. 

Time felt suddenly sick to his stomach as he stared in horror, and beside him the captain inhaled sharply. Zelda staggered backwards a step next to Twilight, one hand clamped over her mouth. 

“What in the name of Hylia?” Legend choked behind them.

None of them could say anything else, but a single thought threaded through Time’s brain, again and again like a broken ocarina. 

What have I done? 

Chapter Text

The silence filling the room was so thick it was almost palpable. 

The rest of the chain moved from where they had been lingering in the doorway to stand by the table upon which Sky was lying, horrified gazes passing between them in the stillness before they looked down at his body. Hyrule felt his breath shuddering in his lungs as he leaned forward, eyes traveling across Sky’s bare torso in sheer disbelief. 

“Are those–?” he faltered, then trailed into silence, heartbeat pounding dully in his ears. It couldn’t be true. 

But it was. 

In all honesty, just from his initial glance Hyrule could tell it was a miracle that Sky was even still alive, judging by the state of his torso. Gaping slashes were torn in jagged lines across his chest, stretching from his collarbone to the middle of his ribs with crimson blood still spouting from the wounds in macabre fountains. Chunks of flesh were missing from the wounds, leaving behind shredded trenches in his torso through which wet gleams of muscle and lung and bone could be seen amongst the deep red smears of blood. 

But that, although sickening enough on its own, was by far not the worst of it. 

In Hyrule’s opinion, and probably everyone else’s as well, the script was just as bad. 

For runes, dark and glistening and bloodied like they had been carved into Sky’s skin with a knife, were plastered across his torso, his neck, his upper arms, his hands, littering his skin in ancient and unreadable script. Most of the marks were still leaking blood as if they had been just freshly etched, but that couldn’t be the case, not with everything that had been going on, not with Sky’s claim of there having been runes in the cave they had found him in. 

Next to Hyrule, Wild leaned forward in stunned silence in order to tug at a grimy, bloodsoaked bandage wound around Sky’s left forearm, pulling it free to reveal more runes winding from his wrist all the way up to his elbow in a broken pattern. Another bandage, similarly worn through, was secured around his opposite forearm, and Wild’s expression was peculiar– a mixture of realization and horror–as he pulled it aside as well to uncover another scattering of runes on the skin beneath.  

“He was telling the truth,” Time whispered almost to himself as he stared at Sky’s body, gripping the table with white knuckles as his face drained of color. “He was telling the truth the whole time and– I didn’t believe him.” 

Legend made a strangled noise, pressing one hand over his mouth as he stared in what looked to be realization, and Hyrule snapped himself out of the horrified trance he had fallen into, turning to the others. “We don’t have time to discuss this right now,” he hissed between his teeth, casting an urgent look at Sky. “I– from what I understand, additional help is coming, but right now I need someone to get me hot water and some clean cloths.” 

“I’ve got it,” Zelda said faintly, her face white as a sheet as she stared at Sky a final time before turning and rushing from the room to carry out Hyrule’s order. Twilight ran after her to help, disappearing into the hall, and Time sank into a sitting position on the bed in one corner of the room, his hands fisted together over his mouth. 

Hyrule turned his gaze back to Sky, frowning a little and leaning closer to examine one of the runes carved into his skin. 

His eyes went wide in sudden remembrance. 

Hadn’t– 

Hadn’t he seen something almost like this on Sky’s neck, just a few days ago–

But that one hadn’t looked like these markings did now. It had appeared to only be on the surface of Sky’s skin, whereas these were practically carved into it, as if–

Hyrule squinted, his head tilting slightly, before he sucked in a breath, eyebrows lifting in shock. The rune he was looking at had layers to it, as if it had originally merely been a faint marking, and had then over time been pressed deeper and deeper into the skin until it was a genuine injury. The other runes appeared extremely similar, jagged layers forming their foundations as if something had provoked them, over and over again, changing them from mere markings into open wounds. But what could have–

The traveler’s train of thought was interrupted by the return of Zelda, who bore several cloths in her hands. Twilight followed closely behind her, carrying a large wooden jar full to the brim with steaming water. 

“Groose should be coming back any minute with reinforcements from Skyloft,” Zelda informed Hyrule worriedly, handing him the clean cloths as Twilight set the jar of water down beside Sky on the table. “These will help, though, right?” 

“Hopefully,” the traveler answered grimly, soaking one of the cloths and turning to Warriors, who snatched up another cloth and dipped it in the jar without need of instruction. 

“I’ve got his arms,” the captain said softly, wringing excess water from the cloth he held before he began to carefully clean a wound on Sky’s bicep. Hyrule nodded and set to work carefully sponging blood from the boy’s chest, taking care not to aggravate the wounds further. 

“Roolie,” Legend started to speak up, edging closer to the traveler. “I think–” 

“Not now, Ledge,” Hyrule interrupted him, brows furrowing as he focused on cleaning a particularly grisly gash below Sky’s collarbone. “Tell me in a little bit, okay?” 

Legend hesitated, hovering for a moment before he nodded and backed away, moving to sit beside Time on the bed. 

“What exactly are these reinforcements bringing, might I ask?” the captain asked, glancing over at Zelda, who hovered nearby with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. 

“Luv, for one thing,” she answered, then added for clarification, “She’s our potion maker. She’ll be able to bring something that should hopefully help him recover faster. And I think Groose is also fetching an instructor from our academy; he knows a lot about plants, so I’m sure he can come up with some additional remedies.” She chewed her lip for a moment, eyeing Hyrule. “What are you planning to do after cleaning his wounds?” 

“Well, I’m going to try to seal up the worst of them with magic,” Hyrule answered, rinsing blood from the cloth in his hands and wringing excess water from it before returning to one of the slashes in Sky’s skin. “And after that…I don’t know.” He grimaced. “I just hope your potion maker and instructor get here soon. We can use all the help we–” 

A door slammed open somewhere downstairs, and with it came a cacophony of strange sounds– the shouting of humans, accompanied by peculiar thuddings and an excessively loud shrieking. Almost like–

“Zelda!” Someone was racing up towards them, boots pounding violently against the stairs. “Zelda, we got trouble!” 

“What–” Zelda rushed out into the hall to meet Groose, the redheaded man from earlier, as he came to a halt at the top of the staircase and bent over double, gasping for breath. “–What kind of trouble?” 

“Well, when we were leaving Skyloft–” Groose glanced into the room, eyes going wide at the sight of Sky unconscious and bloody on the table before he fumbled onward, one hand waving wildly. “–We, uh, we ran into a slight problem–” 

He stopped talking, cut off by the mix of yells and thumps and shrieks drifting up the stairs from outside. Zelda gasped, one hand moving over her mouth in horror as she listened to the noises for a moment with understanding dawning over her face.   

“You don’t mean–?” 

Groose nodded, grimacing slightly as he finally regained his breath. 

“It’s that bird.” 

Hyrule felt a strange flash pass through the entire chain at those words, though he himself couldn’t explain it. But… there was something…

“What bird?” 

Groose and Zelda turned, staring back through the doorway at Time, who was sitting up and watching them with drawn brows as he awaited their answer. 

Zelda paused for a moment before stepping back into the room, seeming unsure. “Oh, it’s– it’s just, um– there’s been a Loftwing hanging around Skyloft lately, but the odd thing is he doesn’t belong to anyone; we don’t know who he is and haven’t ever seen him till a few days ago–”She hesitated, her eyes falling on Sky. “I don’t know why he would have followed Groose down here.” 

“Yeah, I mean… it was pretty weird, he landed beside me as I was about to jump off the edge and call my bird, and– I dunno, he seemed to smell something on me, I guess–” Groose shrugged, looking uncertain. “Luv and Owlan are outside trying to fend him off, but I dunno if they’ll be able to get in with him out there.”

“Right, well, in that case I’d better try to heal him as best as I can before anything unpredictable happens.” Hyrule finished sponging Sky’s wounds, then grabbed up a dry cloth and used it to soak any excess blood or water from the boy’s skin before he drew a steadying breath and gestured for Warriors to move back. 

He hovered his hands over the worst of Sky’s wounds, towards the center of his chest where flayed skin was curling off in strips around wet, gleaming chunks of muscle and tissue. Shutting his eyes, Hyrule focused all of his mind on the boy’s shredded torso, energy flooding his palms as he mentally pictured repairing the destroyed tissue and muscle and knitting the torn flesh back together. 

The warmth building in his palms flooded down towards Sky’s chest, stretching into his skin and piecing the deepest parts of the gashes back together, along with repairing the punctures in his lungs. The wounds wouldn’t heal fully, but just enough that most of the bleeding would stop, and Sky’s body would then be able to finish the repairment process on its own so long as all went according to plan. 

Hyrule increased the concentration of energy leaving his palms, flooding Sky’s chest with warm magic, and– 

“–Hyrule, wait,” someone called distantly, shattering his focus. Hyrule tried to ignore whoever it was, brows furrowing as he continued to work on knitting Sky’s skin back together, but the voice persisted. 

“Roolie, I think there’s something wrong.” 

This time Hyrule didn’t ignore whoever was speaking, a cold chill running down his spine at the words. He cut off the remnants of the spell, eyes snapping open to see the Champion now standing beside him with a concerned expression. “What?” 

The Champion didn’t say anything else, instead pointing to Sky. 

Hyrule followed his finger, his skin prickling in immediate horror upon seeing that, while the gashes in the center of Sky’s chest did look considerably better than before, the runes engraved into his skin appeared worse. 

And what was more, there seemed to be yet another layer to them, deeper than what the traveler had noticed on his earlier examination. Fresh blood was spilling from the wounds in crimson streams, and now there was a whitish-pink gleam of tissue and muscle visible at their centers. 

“I wasn’t even trying to heal those yet,” Hyrule whispered to himself in bafflement, ice washing over him. “What made them worse?” 

Unless–

No, it couldn’t be. 

Or could it? 

Swallowing down bile, the traveler raised one trembling hand above Sky’s left wrist, upon which a few runes were scattered, and sent an experimental flash of magic into the skin there to test his theory. 

Sky’s arm glowed for a brief instant, veins lighting up beneath the surface as the magic wove its way through his forearm, and then the runes embedded in the skin of his wrist seemed almost to shudder, the blood leaking from them shifting almost to black as, before Hyrule’s disbelieving eyes, they dug their way even deeper into Sky’s skin. 

“They’re reacting to your magic,” Wild breathed falteringly, as if Hyrule wasn’t already figuring that out himself. “How is that possible–” 

“This is healing magic,” Hyrule choked, fingers shaking where they hovered above Sky’s arm. “It should be doing the opposite.” 

But against all belief, the runes had undeniably etched themselves further into Sky’s skin, piercing further through the muscles and tissues and exposing tiny punctured veins. 

“This shouldn’t be happening,” Hyrule whispered, panic threatening to overtake him. “This shouldn’t–” He raised his eyes to glance desperately towards Time. “What do I do, old man? If I try to heal his chest then I’m only going to make the runes worse–” 

For once Time didn’t appear to have an answer, his head shaking slowly back and forth as he met the traveler’s gaze. “Well…if you don’t close up the worst parts of his chest…what will happen?” 

Hyrule’s teeth clicked together as he shut his mouth, clarity washing over him again at the old man’s words. 

If I don’t close up his chest, he’s going to die. 

Hyrule’s hands were shaking like leaves as he turned back to Sky and shut his eyes once more, palms hovering over his torso as he focused all of his concentration on the wounds on the boy’s chest and blocked everything else from his mind. He wouldn’t think about his healing magic etching the runes deeper into Sky’s skin, he would not, he would not–

A faint groan cut through his concentration, then another, and Hyrule could feel his entire body beginning to tremble as he forced himself to ignore the sounds and flood Sky’s torso with still more magic, piecing together damaged tissue and muscle, repairing the torn edges of flesh even as a faint sensation of Sky’s pain stabbed into his consciousness. No, no, no– heal him, I’m healing him, don’t, don’t think about it, don’t think–

A final wave of magic burst from his palms, and Hyrule could sense the spell had done all it was able to. The rest of the healing process would have to be left up to potions and to Sky’s own body. 

He had done everything he possibly could.  

And yet…he also made it worse. 

Hyrule shuddered, eyes fluttering open again as he took a stumbling step away from Sky, who still lay unconscious, although an agonized expression now twisted his face. Sweat glistened on his face and torso, and although the wounds on his chest appeared to be mostly closed up, the runes were etched even more deeply into his body, dark crimson against the near bloodless hue of his skin. 

The traveler swallowed, mouth dry as he tore his gaze from the red streams trickling from the still-fresh injuries the runes had inflicted. “We need those potions,” he ground out more tersely than he meant, hands clenching into fists as he turned to look over his shoulder at Groose and Zelda. “Please. I don’t care if– I don’t care if the Loftwing gets in here now; I’ve closed his wounds up as much as I could, but– we need those potions.”

Groose nodded, determination crossing his face as he turned and disappeared down the stairs, his boots clunking on the steps. A moment later the door on the first floor creaked open, brief sounds of a scuffle filtering in from outside before the door slammed shut again. 

Zelda stepped closer to the table Sky lay upon, staring at him with wide, anxious eyes. “Is–” She paused, biting down fiercely on her lip before her gaze moved over to Hyrule. “Is he going to be okay?” 

The traveler swallowed, shaking his head. “I don’t know, to be honest. It all depends on how his body heals itself and how much of an effect the potions will have. But I’m thinking we may need more than just potions for those rune marks–” 

The door downstairs slammed open again suddenly, startling both he and Zelda, and then a deafening mix of thumping sounds and pounding feet drifted up the staircase, moving steadily closer to the landing at the top. Zelda took a step back, watching the doorway in trepidation. “You all might want to–” 

Before she could finish her sentence, before anyone could react at all, a massive bird, larger than Hyrule could have possibly imagined, shoved its way into the room in an explosion of crimson feathers and a cacophony of raucous shrieks, wings beating the air frantically as it all but clawed its way across the room to Sky. Hyrule’s breath hitched in his throat as the bird hesitated, a shrill croon leaving its golden beak, before it stilled its wings and lowered its head carefully down to the unconscious boy, eyes gleaming as it inspected him carefully. After a moment it let loose a quiet trill and nudged Sky with its beak before ruffling its wings anxiously and craning its head to glare at the people standing behind it, a demanding caw breaking the silence.

“What does he want?” Hyrule whispered as the bird’s insistent gaze swept across each of them in turn. 

“I–” Zelda hesitated, seeming unsure and glancing back towards the doorway as a man and woman arrived breathlessly at the top of the staircase in the bird’s wake. “Well, Loftwings are pack birds; when one of them is injured the others tend to pile around it. That could be what he’s wanting, but I don’t know why unless–” 

“Unless that’s Sky’s bird,” Time murmured, cutting her off. 

The Loftwing shrieked again, head tilting as it spread its wings a little and turned towards Time, cawing as if in agreement with what he had said. A series of demanding noises streamed from its beak, its head lowering slightly as it trilled again and again. 

“I have an idea,” Twilight spoke up gently, glancing at Zelda as he moved slowly towards the bird. “I’m not sure if it’ll work, but–” He edged up beside the Loftwing, one hand moving to stroke through the ruffled fur and feathers of its neck as he whispered something to it in a voice too soft for the others to understand. The Loftwing crooned, head shaking back and forth as it tilted its head and listened, and after a moment tucked its wings in again, lowering its head meekly and stepping back a little. 

“Good boy,” Twilight murmured, giving its neck a final pat before he turned to Sky and slid his arms carefully beneath the boy, one positioned under his knees and the other below his back. He lifted him slowly, Sky’s limbs dangling as more blood oozed across his skin, and then knelt carefully on the floor in front of the Loftwing, setting Sky out gently on the floorboards at the bird’s feet. 

The Loftwing cawed, feathers poofing outwards as anxiously it wove its head back and forth before settling carefully on the floor next to Sky and wrapping its fluffy body tentatively around him. Sky stirred slightly, his face wrinkling as the bird ruffled his hair with its beak, before his entire body relaxed, lips upturning in what looked to be a smile. The Loftwing crooned and went still, eyes slipping shut as it tucked its head down protectively just next to Sky. 

Twilight’s mouth curved into a slight grin, and he glanced over his shoulder at the newly arrived man and woman who now stood in the doorway. “I would assume you’re the additional help?” 

“Oh, er, yes– that’s Luv, our potion maker, and Instructor Owlan,” Zelda spoke up.

Twilight nodded. “Good. You two should be fine to work on Sky now; I don’t think this fellow will give you any more trouble.” He brushed his fingers through the fur of the Loftwing’s neck a final time, then got to his feet and stepped aside to give the two newcomers room. 

The woman, Luv, rushed forward, a leather bag swinging at her side. “Okay, well, for right now,” she said breathlessly, “I think we just need to absolutely stuff this poor boy with potions. Once that’s out of the way his wounds ought to be cleaned again, and I believe Owlan brought some plant ointment with him, is that correct?” She turned a sharp look on the instructor, who nodded in reply, before continuing, “And after that, I’ll need some help bandaging him up. Although…” She hesitated, kneeling carefully on the floor beside Sky and his Loftwing and tracing the boy with worried eyes. “Those letter-shaped things… he might need stitches for those.” 

“Do you think so?” Hyrule stepped forward, brows furrowing in concern as he knelt next to her. “Do you know how to do stitches, then? I know magic, but that’s not going to help in this case.” 

Luv shook her head, unbuckling her satchel and pulling out bottle after bottle of sparkling liquid in varying colors. “No, but–” 

“I can do stitches.” 

The captain. 

Hyrule craned his neck to look at Warriors, surprised but in a way that was predictable. He should’ve known the captain would have that kind of knowledge; being a soldier had gotten him all kinds of medical training that had been useful to the chain in the past, but stitches had never been necessary before now due to Hyrule’s healing spells. 

“Okay,” the traveler said quietly, gaze still on Warriors as the captain moved closer and knelt down beside him. “Okay, so I guess after she’s given him some potions and I’ve gotten him cleaned up again you can– you can stitch him up, and then we’ll put the ointment on?” 

Luv nodded in reply to his question, muttering briefly to herself before pulling a final bottle from her satchel and fastening the flap. “Owlan brought plenty of bandages for us to work with that we can wrap him in once everything’s done. But–” She grimaced, meeting his gaze. “A word of warning, you might want to clear the room of everyone else; I’m not sure how well they’ll handle blood. Or screams, for that matter.” 

“They can handle it just fine,” Hyrule answered, gesturing to the chain, “but…” 

He sighed, cutting off his train of thought after a moment and turning to his brothers. “I think the fewer people we have in here, the better we’ll be able to work. Would you all mind waiting out in the hall till we’re finished?” 

“Not at all,” Time returned evenly, getting up from his seat on the bed in the corner and jerking his head towards the door. “Come on, boys, we’d best leave them to it.” 

The rest of the chain exchanged glances at his words, then shifted out of their respective positions throughout the room and filtered slowly out into the hall, a few of them mouthing Good luck as they passed. The Champion pulled the door carefully shut after them, leaving only the three Skyloftians, Hyrule, and Warriors in the room with Sky and the Loftwing, who was still huddled against Sky’s side protectively. 

“Wait.” The captain glanced over at Zelda, who was kneeling down beside him and rolling her sleeves up past the elbow. “Are you sure you’ll be okay in here? Stitches aren’t a pretty sight.” 

She tilted her chin slightly upwards, not quite meeting his gaze but not openly avoiding it either. “I’ll be fine. Don’t you worry about me.”

With that, she rocked back on her heels, then slid her hands beneath Sky’s head and lifted it carefully to rest on her lap. Luv reached across and handed her a glass bottle full to the rim with bright red potion, and Zelda uncorked it with trembling hands, waiting as Warriors carefully prised Sky’s mouth open before she held the rim of the bottle to his lips and emptied a little of its contents into his mouth. Sky gagged, choking for a moment before he swallowed the mouthful with his eyes still squeezed shut.

They continued slowly feeding the half-conscious boy potions until at last Luv declared he had ingested enough for the present. As Warriors slipped out of the room to locate a needle and thread for the sutures, Hyrule and Zelda worked together to clean the fresh blood from Sky’s wounds as carefully as they could, sponging it away from the rune-shaped carvings and from around the mostly sealed gashes in his chest. 

“I hope he’ll be okay,” Zelda whispered once they had gotten most of the excess blood cleaned, smoothing caramel-colored bangs off of Sky’s sweaty forehead as she set down the bloodsoaked rag in her other hand. 

Hyrule swallowed, rinsing his own cloth before wringing the excess water from it. He leaned forward to blot up a last bit of blood from Sky’s collarbone, giving Zelda an earnest look before turning back to his task with blood-tipped fingers. 

“I do, too.” 

She smiled slightly and didn’t say anything else, combing a hand through Sky’s hair while murmuring something to Luv that Hyrule couldn’t quite hear. The crimson Loftwing crooned anxiously, huddling closer to Sky but seeming to understand that the humans were making every effort to help instead of hurt him, one wing twitching as though it wished to drape it over the unconscious boy. 

Hyrule finished cleaning the last of Sky’s wounds right as the door swung open again and Warriors slipped in, breathless but wielding a spool of thread and a sterilized needle wrapped carefully in a handkerchief. “I’m ready now,” he said, kneeling down again next to Sky, who mumbled faintly. “I know he’s pretty out of it right now, but just to be sure–” He swallowed, lips rolling together as he scanned Sky’s lacerated body with concern. “–I would go ahead and stuff a clean rag in his mouth if I were you.”

Mixed horror and understanding washed over Zelda’s face at his words, but after a moment she reached over and plucked a fresh cloth from the pile she had brought in earlier, then carefully pried Sky’s mouth open again to push the wadded-up fabric inside. Sky twitched slightly and groaned, the sound muffled by the cloth now between his teeth, as Warriors threaded his needle with trembling fingers and then drew a breath to compose himself. 

“Okay,” he murmured, glancing over at Hyrule. “Hold him steady, please?” It was a command posed more as a question, but Hyrule didn’t need to be told twice. He pressed one hand firmly against Sky’s bare shoulder and the other onto one of his legs as the captain leaned down with shaking hands, aiming for a rune etched in Sky’s bicep while Zelda adjusted her hold on the boy’s head. 

“Here goes nothing,” Warriors whispered, and pushed the tip of his needle into skin.

<><><>

Out in the hallway, the rest of the chain waited anxiously, straining to catch any noise from beyond the door, but for the moment all they could hear was tense whispering that was too quiet to comprehend, especially when half of the chain was already pacing restlessly in circles and creating additional noise. The rest of them sat cross-legged on the floor or leaned against the wall, arms folded over their chests as they waited for any news. 

“You know…” Time said numbly after a few moments had gone by, hunched over on the floor with folded hands pressed over his mouth, “I thought this was bad enough before.” 

The rest of them traded confused glances. 

“What do you mean?” Twilight asked warily once a few beats had gone by, glancing down at Time with furrowed brows from where he stood propped against the wall beside him. “Old man?” 

“It’s just that– I didn’t even believe he was one of us, that he was a Link, till today,” Time answered after a moment, head moving to rest in his hands.  “But now I know he’s not that at all.” 

“What?” Wild started to say, brows furrowing in perplexion, but Time held up a hand to silence him, eyes slipping shut in chagrin that was directed only at himself. 

“You see, he’s not just one of us. He’s not just a Link,” he continued hoarsely, voice thick. “He’s more than that, he’s– he’s the first of us. He’s the reason any of us even exist today, the reason we carry the Hero’s spirit, the reason courage was forged into our very beings before we were even born. He’s–” 

“He’s Hylia’s chosen?” Four murmured, eyes going wide.  

“Yes. He’s the… the hero we’ve all heard about, I think. That crimson bird– surely some of you must be familiar with it? Or tales of it?” 

A few members of the chain nodded, exchanging glances of disbelief. Time was about to go on, hands lifting to gesticulate along with what he was preparing to say, when another voice interrupted him. 

“Old man. Wait.” 

Time’s gaze slid over to Legend, who was leaning against the rail of the staircase with his arms folded over his chest. He had been silent up till then, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, but now he was alert, waiting for his brothers’ full attention. 

Time’s expression darkened slightly with the first flickers of concern. “Yes, vet? Is something wrong?” 

Legend swallowed at the question, running his tongue between his lips. “It’s just…you’re not going to like this, but–” 

He paused, eyes flicking around the hall uncomfortably before his gaze finally came to rest on the toes of his boots.  

“I think,” the veteran continued slowly, hands moving to grip the wooden railing behind him, “there’s something you all should know.”

Chapter Text

Sky awoke to a room that was almost pitch-black, inky shadows swirling thickly around him like the robes of death itself. In the darkness he could barely tell that his eyes were open, brows furrowing slowly in confusion as a groan eased from his lungs. 

Where am I? 

…How did I get here? 

He shifted slightly on whatever it was he was lying on– most likely a bed or cot, from the softness– and then yelped in shock as the movement, small as it had been, sent a jolt of white-hot pain through his entire torso, a sensation fierce enough that tears stung his eyes. 

Almost immediately there was motion behind him, and before Sky could react a large, warm weight was pressing against his back while something, heavy and soft like a blanket, draped across his legs and torso.  

His first instinct was to panic, wild and irrational terror clawing its way rapidly through his mind at the unknown contact. He flailed, flinching against the pain that tore through his body with each movement, and shoved wildly at the surprisingly fuzzy thing covering him, scrabbling frantically in the darkness in an attempt to escape. Get up, get away, danger danger danger– 

A gentle trill, quiet and soft and oh-so-familiar, brushed his ears. 

Sky froze. 

He knew that sound. 

He knew that sound. 

Before he could blink, before he could even take another breath, Sky was scrambling to push himself onto his other side, arms reaching out and colliding with the massive feathered bird who had been resting behind him on the bed, one of its broad wings draped across his body. “Crimson,” he choked in a voice dry and cracked from lack of use, eyes beginning to overflow as desperately he fumbled to reach up and wrap his arms around the bird. His fingers dug deep into soft plumage as Sky pressed his face into the side of Crimson’s neck, tears spilling down his face as he hugged his bird as tightly as his weak arms could possibly manage. Crimson, Crimson was here, he was real, he was nuzzling Sky’s head gently with his beak and crooning in a warbling, awkward imitation of a Skyloftian lullaby– 

“You remember me,” Sky sobbed, completely nonsensical, into his bird’s feathers, Crimson’s heartbeat thumping in a friendly, familiar rhythm beneath his ear. “You remember me, you’re really here–” 

Crimson let out a string of soft babbling and then shifted carefully, tucking Sky between his massive left wing and downy body in a warm cocoon. Sky trembled, clinging to the bird’s feathers as he wept uncontrollably into Crimson’s plumage because his bird remembered, he remembered, somebody knew who he was– 

As Crimson gently preened Sky’s undoubtedly tangled hair, his wing still wrapped snugly and protectively around the boy’s body, the thought finally occurred to Sky’s still-hazy brain that if Crimson was here, that could only mean one thing. 

“I’m– I’m back home,” he whispered disbelievingly, voice still startlingly deep to his own ears. “I’m home.” 

The thought was almost enough to send him scrambling out from under the cover of Crimson’s wing and tearing out of this room to find Zelda, but something in the back of Sky’s brain told him otherwise, that he should stay put here until someone came to him. He nestled closer to his Loftwing instead of getting up, cheek pressing against the bird’s neck as he lifted an arm to wipe at his tears with one sleeve.

One sleeve– 

He couldn’t see in the darkness, but something felt odd about the shirt he was wearing. Almost as if maybe it wasn’t a shirt at all but something else, some sort of softer fabric with more ridges than a normal shirt would have. Not only that, but his shoulders felt bare, and there were a few gaps of air brushing against his torso like there were holes in whatever he was dressed in. 

What in the name of the Triforce was going on? 

Sky furrowed his brow, fingers stroking slowly through Crimson’s fur as the Loftwing continued carefully preening his hair. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried hard to think, tried to piece together the fragile shards of his memory, but everything was a cloudy haze that he had no recollection of. 

What had happened? What had led him here? 

But– there was something, wavering at the edges of his mind– if he could just– 

Fire. 

There had been fire. Fire, flickering orange and gold, and smoke curling into a blue and hazy sky. That much he was certain of. 

He pressed the heels of his palms to his forehead, thinking as hard as his tired mind would allow, and slowly flashes of memory began to return, whirling through his brain so fast he could scarcely sort them apart from one another. A burning field. Shrieking monsters. Wind lashing his body from a great height. The sensation of falling, plunging, head over heels. Blades glinting in sunlight and corpses littering the earth. 

And then–

Sky’s eyes opened as he simultaneously flinched, a jolt of ghost pain flashing through his body as he remembered, hazily and without much precision, what had come next. 

A crushing, piercing sensation as if his very chest, his lungs, had been impaled. The agony of skin ripping away from his body. Voices blurring together around him, a cacophony of noise. His knees on the ground. Blood, so much blood, slippery on the grass. Someone lifting him into the air as he swung weightless, legs and arms dangling. Darkness drifting over him in a shroud.  

He couldn’t remember anything else.

 Sky swallowed, resisting the urge to shut his eyes once more as Crimson’s warmth enveloped him like a blanket. He didn’t want to rest again until he had answers, until he knew what had really happened and why there was so much pain, so much stiffness, why his body felt more sore than it ever had during his quest. Why he was apparently in his own era, and who had brought him here, and if Crimson remembered, then did everyone else remember too–

A doorknob rattled somewhere in the room, and a moment later a thin ribbon of light pierced the darkness, widening out into a pool that spilled across the floorboards. 

Sky squinted, raising one arm as a shield against the brightness. 

Whispering drifted in from just beyond the partially opened door. He caught snatches of words like awake and break it gently, but otherwise he was clueless as to what was being said or who was speaking. 

“Hello?” he called, voice harsh and croaking, faint panic flaring in his chest.  

The whispers stopped abruptly, and a moment later the beam of light widened even further, revealing a figure standing in the doorway, a featureless silhouette who made no sound. Sky’s eyes narrowed further in trepidation, and he pushed a hand against Crimson’s side, trying to sit up more in order to see better. 

“Don’t move, Sky,” a voice said, familiar and commanding. “Take it easy.” 

The figure stepped into the room and crossed it quickly, then tugged on something on the opposite wall. Light burst in from a window as thick curtains were pulled away from the glass, illuminating the entire room and finally enabling Sky to see his surroundings. 

“–Wars?” 

The captain turned away from the window and directed a smile at Sky, although the gesture was tight, forced. There was an element of heavy sadness in Warriors’ eyes as he walked over to the bed where Sky and Crimson were piled together in a fluffy heap, his lips compressing as he surveyed the chosen hero silently for a moment. 

“You’re looking a little better,” he said faintly after a moment, voice so low Sky barely caught the words. “I’m glad you’re finally awake; how are you feeling?” 

“I’m–” Sky paused, forehead wrinkling. “What do you mean ‘finally?’ How long have I been asleep?” 

“You’ve been unconscious,” Warriors corrected him gently, “for… well, today marks the fifth day.” 

“What?” Sky stared at him, stunned. “I’ve been– five days?” 

“I’m afraid so.” The captain cleared his throat, trying to paste a neutral expression on his face without much success.  “In an hour or so Hyrule and I are going to change your bandages again.” 

Bandages?

Sky blinked at Warriors for a moment, mouth slightly open in sheer confusion, before he shifted, pushing Crimson’s wing gently away from his body and looking down at himself. His eyes widened in surprise. The odd shirt he had thought he was wearing earlier wasn’t a shirt at all, but dozens of strips of soft white cloth, wound around his arms and chest and stomach and leaving his shoulders and a few gaps on his torso completely bare. On closer inspection, he could see that a few of the bandages appeared to be stained with rust-brown splotches that made bile rise in his throat.  

“What–” 

He looked up at the captain again, voice wavering. 

“What happened to me?” 

Warriors returned his gaze reluctantly, his eyes still full of that strange sadness, and then sighed, shaking his head slightly before he knelt down beside the bed. “You really don’t remember?” 

“I–” Sky’s brow furrowed as he thought about the fire and smoke and the panicked voices he had recollected a few moments before. “I remember flashes of things. Not much else.” 

“Delirium clouded your memories, I would think. You were…pretty out of it when it all happened.” The captain swallowed, arms moving to rest against the edge of the bed as he leveled Sky with a gentle expression. “Don’t freak out on me here, okay, soldier? Just listen and take nice, deep breaths.” 

Sky couldn’t help but feel a twinge of fear at his words. But after a moment he nodded, sinking back against Crimson’s solid form for support and waiting with wide eyes. 

“There was a battle, and you… took a blow meant for Time,” Warriors said slowly after a moment. “A Moblin club, straight to the chest, and the blin yanked it out almost immediately after. You– still managed to kill it, though, and only a few moments afterwards you passed out.” 

 “Okay,” Sky breathed, fingers bunching into the loose fabric of the pants someone must have dressed him in. “Okay, that’s not so bad.” 

“I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it.” 

“What do you mean?” Sky looked up at him with a horrified expression, sweat prickling on his skin. “Did… nobody died, did they?”

“No, thankfully,” Warriors hastened to reassure him, then hesitated before adding, “though you came extremely close.” 

“I did?” A cold chill ran through Sky’s body, gripping onto his spine with icy fingers. He swallowed hard, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Was it really that bad? I mean– Hyrule used magic, didn’t he? Or so I would assume, he usually–” 

“Yes, he was able to seal up the worst of your wounds with his magic, but–” 

“...But what?” Sky whispered when the captain didn’t finish his sentence. 

Warriors grimaced, shoulders tensing as one hand moved to rub the back of his neck. “See, um, we found something on you that…explains a lot. But I’m afraid it’s not good news.” 

Sky’s heart thudded once, twice, blood crawling through his veins. He should have realized before now.

“You– you know about the runes, then, don’t you?” he said faintly after a few beats of silence had passed. 

The captain flinched, lips thinning into a straight line, before nodding reluctantly. “Yes.” He paused, eyes avoiding Sky’s face and staring instead at his hands as he pressed his knuckles against the bedspread. “I…Hyrule tried to heal the runes along with the lacerations in your chest, but the weird thing was that his magic, although it was able to help your chest wounds, actually intensified the severity of the runes.”

“But– but his magic is meant to heal; it made them worse?” Sky breathed, eyes widening. 

“Unfortunately, but Hyrule figured it was better to worsen the runes and heal the wounds in your chest than to let you bleed out from them, which you would have if he hadn’t sealed them up when he did.” The captain huffed a bitter laugh, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He chewed his bottom lip for a moment, appearing lost in thought before he finally lifted his gaze to meet Sky’s again. “Well, um, anyway…after Hyrule sealed your chest, we cleaned the rest of your wounds and I stitched them up.” 

“You did?” Sky raised his eyebrows, impressed. 

“I will admit that I’ve only done it once or twice before, so I was a bit nervous, especially because you were half-conscious during the procedure.” Warriors winced slightly. “It…wasn’t pretty, I’ll say that.” 

Sky thought about the raggedness of his voice when he first woke and grimaced. “I was screaming pretty loud, huh?” 

“Well….yeah, but that’s totally understandable. You were in a lot of pain; honestly I’m surprised that–” The captain coughed, cutting himself off abruptly and glancing to the side as one hand rubbed over the back of his neck again. 

“You’re surprised that…what?” Sky prompted carefully. 

Warriors swallowed, sucking in a breath as he searched for a response. “I’m– surprised you didn’t die before we had a chance to get you taken care of,” he finally answered quietly after a moment. 

Oh. 

Sky bit his lip, burrowing a little closer to Crimson and feeling unsure of how to respond. “Well,” he spoke up hoarsely after the silence had stretched on for a little too long, “thank you all for– for saving me. I appreciate it.” 

“Well, if someone hadn’t thrown himself in front of a Moblin–” Warriors jested weakly, offering Sky a faint grin for a moment before his smile slowly faded. “I wouldn’t be thanking us just yet, though.” 

“What do you mean? Isn’t that all of it? I mean, you know about the runes now, so I don’t see–” 

“You’ll find out soon,” the captain interrupted him gently, reaching out to carefully pat the top of one of Sky’s hands. “But, erm. First there’s someone who would like to see you, if that’s okay.” 

“Someone to see me?” Sky repeated, confused. “Why wouldn’t it be okay?” 

“I’ll leave that for you to figure out,” Warriors answered vaguely. “Anyway, like I said Roolie and I will be in in a bit to change your bandages, so I’ll see you then.” He offered Sky an encouraging smile, then got to his feet and headed to the door. He cast a final glance over his shoulder at Sky, mouthing good luck before he slipped out of the room again. 

Sky wiped sweaty palms on his pants and leaned his head back against Crimson, who cooed and ruffled his hair with his beak as the chosen hero waited for whoever was supposed to be coming in. He didn’t want to hope that it could be Zelda, because he didn’t even know if she was anywhere near wherever they were right now, but– 

The door creaked open again, and Time stepped in. 

Sky’s thoughts stuttered to a halt, his breath hitching uncertainly in his throat as he watched the old man slowly cross the floor to stand next to his bed. There Time came to a halt and stood silently, scanning Sky with an inscrutable expression written on his face until Sky finally became uncomfortable enough to speak. 

“Um, is there something–” 

Before he could finish his sentence, Time was suddenly sitting on the bed in front of him and reaching for Sky to pull him into the tightest, yet simultaneously most gentle hug Sky was sure he would ever experience. 

“Sky, Hylia above, what have I done–” 

The old man’s words were muffled and clogged with tears, but Sky caught them regardless, his mouth hanging slightly open in shock as hesitantly he wrapped his arms around Time in return. He could feel the elder hero trembling violently against him as Time held him even closer, one hand moving to press against the back of Sky’s head and into his hair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Time whispered into his hair, voice thick with emotion. “I’m sorry I did that to you, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I– I’m sorry it took you almost dying for me to come to my senses. Sky, I–” He paused, and Sky felt him swallow, remorse thick in his voice. “If you never forgive me I’ll understand; if you hate me forever that’s okay; I just want you to know that from the bottom of my heart I am so sorry, and that if there was any way I could take it all back I would. If– if I could be in your place right now I would be; I’m not looking for forgiveness but I just wanted you to know–” 

“Time,” Sky interrupted him gently, head tucked over the old man’s shoulder, arms tightening around his torso. “I know you mean it, and I’m the last person on earth to ever hold a grudge against anyone. No harm done, okay? You’re forgiven.” He pulled slowly away from Time’s embrace, offering the old man a hesitant smile. “No need to feel guilty about anything.” 

“No, Sky, I think I do deserve to feel more than a little guilty, especially because you’re wrong– there was harm done. You’ve been suffering this whole time in silence, and you nearly– you nearly died because of me.” 

“Because of a choice that I made,” Sky corrected him. 

“Still, you nearly died saving me, after I treated you with harshness and derision–” Time shook his head, the heel of one palm digging into his eye. “I definitely deserve to feel horrible about this for a while, and I’m fine with that because– if there was anything I could do to take it all back–” 

“You don’t need to do anything, and you don’t need to feel miserable.” Sky laid a hand atop Time’s forearm, offering him a gentle smile. “You’re forgiven, like I said, and I mean it. I don’t want you to continue feeling awful after I’ve told you I bear no resentment, okay? So please, just– for me, don’t beat yourself up about it. We all make mistakes; it’s what we learn from them that defines us.” 

Time sighed and then nodded, sitting back slightly and giving Sky a regretful look. “I’ve never been much good at trusting, you see,” he admitted after a moment. “It’s no excuse for my wary callousness towards you, but– trust never got me anywhere when I was a child. The adults in my life…they were meant to be the wise ones, yet they trusted Ganondorf and brought on misery and death. So I learned to rely on my own judgment instead of blindly trusting, and see where that’s gotten me.” He gave a bitter laugh, head shaking back and forth. “Again, that doesn’t excuse my treatment of you whatsoever. But the fact of the matter is that I gave up on trust long ago, and now I can see that decision has only come back to bite me. And you, in a way far worse than I.” 

“Well–” Sky squeezed Time’s arm. “No matter what you say, I think you should know that I would do it again. All of it. A thousand times over, if it meant you would be okay.” 

“You don’t mean that,” the old man said disbelievingly, though he seemed unsure. “Surely you can’t mean that. Not after everything I did.” 

“Of course I mean it.” Sky’s mouth curled into a soft, appreciative smile. “We all have our own problems, don’t we? I’m not going to hold a grudge against you because of that.” 

“But I could have been kinder, instead of treating you like– like a monster. Like someone who didn’t belong.” 

“Hey. It’s okay .” Sky leaned forward and gently bumped his forehead against Time’s. “It’s in the past, you hear me? No need to dwell on it.” 

“You don’t know what that means to me,” Time whispered. “Thank you, Sky. I– though I still don’t remember you from before, something tells me you’ve always been the kindest of us.” Time ruffled Sky’s hair gently with one hand, then pulled him into a final gentle hug. “How are you feeling right now?” 

Sky huffed a little as he pulled away, brow furrowing in thought as he leaned back against Crimson’s side again. “...Not great, if I’m honest,” he answered finally, nose crinkling in annoyance. “I’m just really, really sore, I guess. And–” He swallowed, feeling uncomfortable. “Wars said you all finally know about the runes.” 

“We do, yes.” 

The old man’s gaze cut away, his expression shifting to one of fierce sympathy that seemed to hold a deeper meaning, and sudden nausea roiled deep in Sky’s stomach. 

“Time?” he said faintly after a moment. “What is it? What are you all not telling me?” 

Time was silent for a few minutes, seeming pained, as if he wanted Sky to still remain innocent of whatever information was being withheld from him. But finally he got up from his seat and went to the door again, poking his head out and murmuring inaudible words to someone in the hall outside. Sky was surprised when Legend stepped into the room a moment later, pushing the door shut behind him and moving with Time to sit by Sky on the bed. 

Time reached out to take one of Sky’s hands in his own, pressing his other hand gently atop Sky’s knuckles as Legend folded his own hands in his lap, looking deeply uncomfortable.  

“What Legend is about to tell you is going to be a lot to take in,” the old man told Sky carefully, “so if you need him to stop or slow down at any point you just let him know, okay?” 

“Just tell me, please,” Sky answered hoarsely, heart pounding through his chest with explosive speed. “I don’t want to be confused anymore.” 

“All right, just…know that we’re here, okay? You’re not alone.” Time trailed into silence for a moment and drew a long breath, trading a glance with Legend as Crimson trilled anxiously and nuzzled Sky’s hair with his beak. “The floor is yours, vet,” he finally said in a quiet tone that chilled Sky to his core.  

Legend nodded, hands twisting together in his lap as he began speaking, gaze fixed on the bedspread. “Sky, first off– I want to say that I’m so sorry I didn’t realize anything before, because I should have, but it’s just– they were so hard to believe–” He swallowed, face white as a sheet as falteringly he continued. “You see, in my Hyrule, there are… stories.” 

“Stories?” Sky echoed faintly. 

“Yes. And I never really believed in them before, because there was never much documented proof of it, but– after all of this, I think they must have been true, after all.” 

He paused, looking as if he was trying to figure out how to phrase his next words even as Sky’s heart shuddered with anxiety. “Like I said,” Legend finally continued after a moment, voice numb, “there were tales. And I don’t think most people put faith in them, because they sounded too far-fetched and ridiculous, but– well, it was said that if a Sheikah committed an act of treachery against the kingdom, they would be sentenced to a fate worse than death.” 

Sky’s grip on Time’s hand tightened, as if he could almost sense what the vet was leading up to. 

“Instead of being executed physically, it was said these treacherous Sheikah were executed… emotionally. Spiritually.” Legend grimaced, fingers plucking at a loose thread in his tunic. “The– the stories had it that somewhere in the depths of Hyrule, in an area so remote none but those who knew its location would ever venture near it, there was a cave.” 

Sky’s blood splintered into shards of ice, and he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting. 

The veteran’s tone was reluctant as he continued, “This cave was reported to contain the darkest magic known to the Sheikah, even as far back as their lineage went. A magic so dark that it had to be sealed into the walls of the cave itself, only to be activated when an offender receiving punishment stepped onto a natural dais in the rocky floor. These… offenders, these Sheikah who had betrayed the kingdom, would be forced, while shackled, into the cave. There it is said that regardless of how determined they were to keep away from it, the magic in the walls would lure them to stand upon the stony pedestal on the floor, where their fate would be sealed forever. For the magic, the runes that formed the very spell, would enter the traitor’s body, cursing them to an existence in which everyone they had ever known would forget them entirely.”

“But– that’s not all of it. Due to the treacherous nature of those sent into the cave, the tales said that there was an additional bit of magic– a safeguard, to ensure that they would never be able to reverse the spell or remove it from their body. And, considering that the Sheikah were proficient users of magic, this safeguard was especially nasty, and also explains why Hyrule’s magic worsened the runes on your body.” Legend drew a breath, trading a significant glance with Time before continuing, “For if a Sheikah who had activated and thus absorbed the spell in the cave attempted to use magic ever again, or even to touch magic that was not their own, the spell would begin to physically appear on their skin. The more magic a condemned Sheikah came into contact with, the more runes would implant into their skin, digging deeper and deeper into their body with every forbidden interference. A constant reminder that the condemned had practically ceased to exist, that perhaps they had never existed in the first place.” 

The world was spinning around him in a nauseating haze, and Sky felt horribly, crushingly sick. Sweat prickled on his skin as he leaned fiercely back against Crimson, clinging to Time’s hands in a death grip, his vision blurring with tears and panic. 

“Of course,” the veteran relented after a moment, not appearing to notice Sky’s reaction, “much of what I just told you is just pure speculation, but now I believe that many of those stories I mentioned must have originated from some of those Sheikah who were unfortunate enough to be sentenced to that horrible fate.” He exhaled slowly, seeming reluctant to continue. “Although there is…further support that these tales may be true beyond what I’ve just said. See, in my Hyrule there were many records found of Sheikah that no one had any memory of, yet they clearly had existed because of what was documented. And also…occasionally, though not often, dead Sheikah would be discovered in remote locations, their identities unknown, appearing to have–” 

He grimaced, lips compressing as he slowly finished his sentence. “–Appearing to have ended their own lives.”  

Sky’s mouth was completely dry, a taste of blood spreading across his tongue as he bit his cheek just to feel something. Anything. Anything to remind himself he wasn’t trapped in some horrible nightmare. 

“So, basically what I’m trying to say is–” The veteran gestured weakly in Sky’s direction. “All of that is what I think must have happened with you. You somehow activated those runes, and thus sealed yourself with the fate of the Sheikah I spoke of, even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. That makes me think the magic must not be subjective, but rather… anyone has the ability to activate it. I doubt the Sheikah ever thought anyone outside their tribe would ever discover that cave, otherwise I think they probably would have taken more precautions.” 

“All of this explains for certain why the Master Sword burned you,” Time spoke up, squeezing Sky’s hand gently. “Because the spell is such a dark one, the blade was unable to detect anything else besides pure malevolence– and so was unable to detect that you carry the spirit of the hero. So because of the malevolence it sensed, it decided you were evil; and no evil may touch the Master Sword, as I’m sure you already know.” 

He paused, trading a glance with Legend– both of them seemed concerned by Sky’s deathly silence. Finally Time prompted gently, “Do you need anything else explained? I know it must all be confusing, but–” 

Sky bit his lip fiercely, trying again to feel something, anything as he lifted his chin and stared the veteran dead in the eyes. 

“I just have one question,” he whispered, voice faint and cracking, heat pounding in his temples. 

Time nodded, waiting, and Legend’s mouth opened slightly, his face falling as if he could already tell what Sky was about to say. 

“Ledge,” Sky continued, broken, tears beginning to flood his eyes as all he had just been told began to sink in fully. “Tell me. Tell me there’s some way to break the spell.” 

The veteran swallowed hard, eyes glistening for just a brief moment.  

“I’m sorry, Sky,” he said a moment later, his voice barely audible. A hollow whisper, softer than the wind. 

The world blurred at the edges.

“You don’t mean that,” Sky choked, numb, disbelief welling within him as he shook his head in building denial. “Tell me you don’t mean that.”  

Legend’s gaze flicked away from him, a single line of water spilling down one cheek. “I’m sorry,” he whispered again. 

Sky’s final remnant of sanity snapped just then, breaking apart into a million pieces as wild, senseless rage flooded his heart in a burning wave of hatred. He shoved himself away from Crimson’s warmth and out of Time’s reach, lunging towards Legend in thoughtless fury borne from grief. “You don’t mean that, you can’t– you can’t mean that, tell me you don’t mean that–” 

He was all but screaming now, fingers clawing at Legend’s shoulders in desperate grief and fear as if somehow he could find the cure to his curse if he shook the veteran hard enough. “Say you don’t mean it, you bastard– say it to my face–” 

“Sky, I’m sorry–” Legend’s eyes were shimmering again, wide and going red around the edges as he tried to wrestle the chosen hero away from him. “There’s nothing I can do, it’s not my fault– Sky, please– ” 

“It’s not true, say it’s not true,” Sky shrieked, a rabid animal deaf to Legend’s pleas as his fingers closed fiercely, white-knuckled, around the veteran’s throat. “It’s not true, it can’t be, you’re lying, you’re a liar–” 

“Sky!” Time finally managed to catch the chosen hero around the waist, trying to pull him backwards where he couldn’t reach Legend, but Sky resisted with the ferocity of a beast, driven completely out of his senses by grief. Grief that his body would be scarred by the ugly, searing runes of an ancient curse for the rest of his life. Grief that Zelda, that Pipit, that Skyloft would never remember him, ever again. Grief that his brothers would no longer look at him with anything besides smothering pity for the rest of their time together. Grief that all of this might have been prevented if he had just numbed his feelings of neglect all those days ago and not gone wandering by himself. 

He was sobbing now, fingers tightening further around Legend’s throat, barely aware of what he was doing as the veteran struggled for air, one arm beating helplessly against Sky’s chest. Time abandoned pulling on his middle and closed his hands tightly over the chosen’s wrists instead, his fingers loosening Sky’s grip and pulling him away from Legend. Sky snarled, red swarming over his vision as he shoved at Time’s arms in an attempt to get away.

“Let me go –” he shrieked, voice raw and biting, pain splintering through his body as he swung his legs around and kicked Time viciously in the chest. The old man gasped, his grip on Sky slackening, and Sky rolled frantically away from him, tumbling off the bed and slamming into the floor as salt and blood mingled on his tongue. 

When he hit the ground, it was as if the raging, feral animal in his head suddenly went quiet, no longer thirsting for blood, no longer angry over things that were out of its control. Grief replaced it, grief so thick that screaming would have done nothing to soothe its pain. Grief so bitter that Sky curled into a ball on the floor and sobbed, shrieking, into his hands, his entire body trembling violently with pain and fear and regret. 

Arms slid beneath Sky’s shoulders and lifted him into someone’s lap, hands smoothing gently over his hair even as Sky flinched in delirious fear. “It’s just me, my boy,” a voice whispered in his ear, soft and caring. “Just the old man.”

Sky shuddered, his shattered body going limp in Time’s arms as he sagged against the older hero’s chest, heedless as he wept brokenly into his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he cried, eyes squeezed tightly shut, all of his rage from before melted away fully into a sorrow so deep he was drowning, choking on salt and blood. “I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry–” 

“Shhhh, my boy. It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m not going anywhere.” Time’s fingers stroked through Sky’s hair, gentle and caring, and Sky trembled, clinging to him as if Time was the only thing keeping his body from breaking apart. 

“I’m sorry,” he shrieked again in a strangled tone, quieter this time, words thick and suffocating in salt. “I’m so sorry –”  

“It’s okay, Sky,” he heard Legend saying distantly as Time’s hands continued brushing tenderly through his hair, as everything— the pain radiating through his skin, the crushing grief swelling in his heart, the tears he was all but drowning in– faded slowly away into inky oblivion. 

It’s okay. 

And perhaps, just for this moment as he drifted away unconscious into the dark, it was.

Chapter Text

“Link?” 

A voice was calling to him through the blackness, warm and familiar, gentle and loving. Whispering softly for him to wake up and open his eyes and breathe. He could feel his body wanting desperately to obey, life sparking slowly into his fingers as his brows drew together in concentration. 

“Link, wake up–” 

Light burst across his vision as his eyes finally slid open, light so blinding that for a moment he could scarcely make out the figure shining amidst it like the sun. He squinted, pushing himself up on his elbows and staring until he knew for sure who it was. For there was no denying the warmth of her smile, the crinkle of her deep blue eyes, the golden hue of her hair as she reached one hand out to brush his bangs from his forehead. 

“Link, it’s me– I’m here–” 

Sky lifted one arm, reaching towards her until his hand was cupping her face and he could feel her, real and warm and solid beneath his fingers. “You’re here,” he repeated, voice shaking, tears welling in his eyes as he rubbed his thumb across her cheek. She laughed, a sound warmer than sunbeams, and then climbed up onto the bed beside him, resting her head against his arm as his other hand traced over her face in perfect disbelief. 

“I’m here,” she said again, simply, looking at him with eyes full of love.

“Zelda, how– how did–” 

She smiled even wider, her hands reaching to slide around his neck as she leaned forward to bump her forehead against his. “Silly sleepyhead. You don’t remember?”

“Well, no– I mean, I didn’t ask Time or Legend if you were here earlier but–” He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry with shock as something occurred to him. “You– you remember me?” 

Zelda laughed again, strands of hair clinging to her face as she pulled his head to rest beneath her chin. “Of course I do, my love,” she murmured, fingers stroking gently through the wavy hair at the nape of his neck. “You think I would ever forget you? I will remember you, in every lifetime. No matter what.” 

He sagged against her at her words, his arms slipping around her tightly as he felt her press a tender kiss to the top of his head. He could scarcely believe it– that both Crimson and Zelda remembered him. It was too good to be true. Could that mean– could that mean that the rest of Skyloft remembered him as well? That he wasn’t as alone as he had thought? 

“I missed you so much,” he whispered, his hold on her tightening even further as if to ascertain that she was real, that she was here . “I thought about you, every day. I–” He swallowed again, eyes squeezing shut lest the tears gathering in his eyes threatened to spill out. “I missed you, so much,” he said again, unable to form any other words as he clung to her, desperate. 

“I know you did,” she answered softly, kissing his hair again before her hand slid beneath his chin and tilted his head up to face her. “I missed you, too. More than you could possibly imagine.” 

He smiled at her, eyes beginning to overflow with tears as she pressed a light kiss against his forehead, his nose, his left cheek, his right cheek. “I love you, my Zelda,” he breathed, snuggling even closer. 

“I love you, too.” She smiled at him tenderly, one hand brushing through his hair. “So much…”

Sky’s eyes flew open, and he sat bolt upright in a sweaty tangle of sheets and blankets, struggling for air as he stared at his shadowy surroundings in confusion. “Zelda?” he called, a hoarse croak amidst the blackness of his room. “Zelda? Are you there? Are–” 

No. 

She was not there. Nor was Crimson, or anyone else. 

He was completely alone.  

The realization struck him slowly, sinking into his bones like molten lava as he drew his knees up to his chin, arms wrapping around them as he shivered in the dark. A dream. That was all it had been. In reality he had no idea where Zelda was, or if they were even in the same location as her. They could be somewhere completely remote, hundreds of miles from the Surface settlement he and Zelda had begun before he joined the chain. They could be– 

“Sky?” 

A crack of light spilled into his bedroom as the door was pushed open, and Sky swallowed hard in a vain effort to dislodge the lump from his throat. “Yeah,” he replied faintly, still huddled into himself, tremors shaking his limbs. “Come in.” 

Hyrule stepped into the room, carrying an oil lamp in one hand and looking worried. “You okay, bud? I heard you screaming.” 

“I–” Sky bit his lip and pressed his mouth against his knees, beginning to rock slowly back and forth in his tangle of blankets. Hyrule’s brow creased in concern, and he shut the door softly behind him and crossed the floor to Sky’s bed, where he set the lamp down on a nearby table before taking a seat on the bed. 

“What’s wrong?” the traveler inquired in a gentle tone, watching Sky carefully. 

The chosen shook his head aggressively back and forth, bangs falling into his eyes and half-obscuring his vision, but Zelda was not there to brush them away again and he didn’t care enough to deal with them himself. “Nothing,” he muttered in reply, not meeting Hyrule’s gaze. “It was just a dream.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyrule looked unsure, his head tilting in concern. “Can I do anything to help?” 

“No. I don’t think so.” Sky dug his teeth into his bottom lip so fiercely that the metallic tang of blood trickled into his mouth. “Is it night?” 

“Yes.” Hyrule drew a long breath, seeming reluctant. “You’ve been asleep since yesterday.” 

“I have?” Sky twisted his head to look at him, startled. 

“Yeah, um– you woke up briefly yesterday evening, a few hours after the… incident with Time and Legend.” Hyrule appeared to be choosing his words carefully. “I gave you some medicine to help you sleep, and it must have done its job pretty well.” 

“Oh.” Sky flinched a little, fingers curling into the fabric of his pants as he remembered his almost rabid actions the previous day– choking Legend, screaming like a feral beast, fighting off Time, sobbing on the floor. “Is…is Legend okay? I didn’t hurt him, did I?” 

“He’s okay. His throat is just a little bruised, but he’ll be all right.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Sky whispered. 

“Sky. Hey.” Hyrule’s hand came to rest on Sky’s knee. “Your actions were completely justifiable, okay? You’ve been through a lot in the past few days. You’ve lost a lot of blood, too, so of course you weren’t in your right mind.” 

Sky didn’t say anything in reply, but a single thought was threading through his head– he had been a little too much in his right mind yesterday. But maybe it was better for everyone to think otherwise, better for them to think he wasn’t a monster.  

“Where’s Crimson?” he managed to ask after a few moments, still rocking himself back and forth, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain each movement inflicted on his skin. 

Hyrule gestured in a direction that must have been towards the window. “He’s somewhere outside right now. He’s scarcely left your side since we brought you here a few days ago, so Twi thought he ought to stretch his wings and get some fresh air for a little bit. But I’m sure he’ll be back by tomorrow, don’t worry.”  

“Oh.” Sky paused, wetting his lips before he added in a whisper, “Where are we, exactly? I mean– I know that we’re in my Hyrule, obviously, but the–” 

“You want to know if Zelda is nearby,” Hyrule interrupted him gently, seeming to understand what Sky was getting at even if he didn’t fully understand it himself. 

“...Yes.” 

The traveler was silent for a long moment, lamplight flickering across his face as he searched for an answer. Finally, delicately he answered, “She’s nearby.” 

“Wait. She’s actually here? Where— where is she? Can I see her, can—" Sky stopped rocking and braced his palms against the mattress, preparing to swing his feet to the floor and rush to see her right then and there. Perhaps his dream hadn’t been so far off the mark after all. 

Hyrule was silent, and Sky paused, feet dangling just above the floor as he turned his head to look at the traveler in confusion, a distant pang of alarm sounding in his mind. “Roolie?” he whispered. 

Hyrule swallowed, staring at his hands and not meeting Sky’s gaze. “She’s– she’s here, like I said. Sleeping in a room downstairs, I think. But–” 

His voice hitched, and he paused, seeming unsure of how to continue even as Sky’s heart began to shrivel with grief. 

“She doesn’t remember me,” he finished for Hyrule after a moment, voice fracturing into shards. “Does she?” 

There was a long pause, and then slowly, heavily, the traveler shook his head. 

Sky’s eyes squeezed shut. 

Numb. 

“I’m sorry, Sky.” Hyrule’s voice sounded distant. Foggy. As if Sky was again trapped underwater, drowning, sinking beyond reach of rescue. “But– do you want me to go get her? Just so you can see her, at least?” 

Numb. Numb. Numb. Numb–

“Sky?” 

His eyes fluttered open again, slow and heavy, and Sky shook his head, vision glazing over. “No. No, that’s all right. I don’t want to disturb her since she’s sleeping.” 

“Oh. Okay.” Hyrule hesitated for a moment, then started to reach out with one hand, as if to lay it on Sky’s arm or shoulder to reassure him things would be all right. But he would be a fool to think Sky would ever believe that, because nothing would ever be right again.

Tell me. Tell me there’s some way to break the spell.

I’m sorry, Sky–  

“You should get some sleep yourself,” Sky said in carefully measured tones, leaning away from Hyrule’s touch as if to scratch his leg, but his message must have been clear enough– I just want to be left alone right now. “I’ll be fine.” 

Hyrule’s hand wavered just inches from pressing against Sky’s shoulder, and then he sighed and withdrew it. “I guess you’re right. No telling what tomorrow might bring. …You sure you’ll be okay?” 

“I’ll be fine,” Sky repeated, and forced a smile that, had they been in a brighter setting, couldn’t have possibly been mistaken as genuine. “Go rest.” 

“Okay,” Hyrule answered softly, lifting the oil lamp from the table beside Sky’s bed and turning to go. Sky sank back down onto the mattress and curled into a ball, pulling his knees up to tuck them tightly against his chest, and after a moment Hyrule reached back to gently tug the covers over him before moving towards the door. “I hope you sleep well, Sky.” 

No chance of that, not now. Not when she was haunting him, just out of his reach. “You too,” Sky responded nonetheless, automatically, as if an ancient robot had suddenly taken possession of his body. Perhaps it would be better if one did. Perhaps it would be better if– 

“You know something, Hyrule?”

The traveler paused by the door, lamplight flickering over his face as he glanced back over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

Sky didn’t flip over to look at him, hot tears rolling down his face as hugged his legs even closer to his chest. 

“You should have just left me to die.” 

Chapter Text

The sun was just beginning to come up when Zelda awoke the next morning from a restless sleep, her mind churning with racing thoughts that piled on top of one another until she could no longer tell them apart. She let a heavy sigh escape her lungs, rolling onto her back and staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before she pushed herself into a sitting position and swung her legs out of bed. She couldn’t lie here any longer, not with everything, not when–

When– 

A voice whispered in the back of her mind, small and frail but persistent.  

They say he loved you. 

A shudder ran through her, and she pushed the voice away as she got to her feet, though it still continued to whisper at the back of her mind. Zelda made her way to a basin by the door and splashed cold water on her face a few times, hoping to shake herself out of whatever her head was trying to do. What she needed right now was to be productive, not to think about things she couldn’t understand. 

Zelda dressed quickly in a simple tunic and pants, then slipped out of her room and hurried down the hall to the kitchen. She figured she could at least get something for that poor boy, Sky, to eat; he must be starving by now since he hadn’t had food in several days. Every time he had woken up enough that they could feed him, he lost consciousness again only moments later. Being stocked up on medicines didn’t help with his drowsiness, she supposed, although maybe he was always this tired and the herbs and potions were only adding to that. 

Quickly she prepared a tray with some honey Groose had gathered from the Deku hornets, a pot full of steaming tea, some sugar, sliced bread, and milk obtained from some strange creatures Impa had taught her about during their time together on the surface. Her guardian had given her instruction on just how to get the milk from the beasts, which apparently were called cows, and Zelda had been surprised to discover how many things the product could be used for. 

As a final touch, she darted outside and gathered a small sprig of flowers to put on the center of the tray– surely the poor boy would want to see something cheerful after all the misery he had gone through these past few days. The other eight members of his strange group had told her some of what he had endured– drowning, accusations, the fight with the dragon and subsequent near-death, and last but not least, the cave that had cursed him so terribly. Supposedly she and he had been in love back before… everything, which would explain his delirious reaction when he first saw her a few days ago, but she didn’t remember him, not one bit. It all made it difficult for her to sort out her thoughts.  

Zelda made her way quietly upstairs to the room that Sky was currently staying in, pushing open the door with one hand and balancing the tea tray in the other. She was surprised to see Sky was not alone– another boy, Hyrule if she remembered correctly, was asleep on the bed beside him, Sky snuggled in his arms in a cocoon of blankets. 

As Zelda set the tea tray down on a table beside the bed, Hyrule stirred and then jolted awake, seeming momentarily startled before his gaze fell on Zelda. “Oh,” he mumbled, gently disentangling himself from Sky’s nest of blankets and pushing himself into a sitting position while rubbing his eyes with the other hand. “I must have fallen asleep here.” 

“How’s he doing?” Zelda inquired softly as she poured out a cup of tea for Hyrule. 

The boy hummed, his lower lip jutting out slightly. “He’s okay physically, I guess. I’ll change his bandages again in a little bit. …But mentally?” He cast a glance at the sleeping form beside him. “He told me last night we should have left him to die.” 

“Oh, dear Hylia,” Zelda whispered. 

“Yeah.” Hyrule swallowed, scooting carefully to the edge of the bed and hopping to the floor. “I think it’s probably a good idea to have someone with him constantly, because– I dunno, in the state he’s in right now…I just don’t think it’s good to leave him by himself.” 

“Poor thing,” Zelda murmured, reaching to hand Hyrule his tea before her gaze drifted to the slumbering figure on the bed. “Do you think he’ll heal in time? Both mentally and physically?” 

“Physically yes, but mentally I can’t really say. I don’t think any of us have ever experienced anything remotely similar to this before, so it’s difficult to say what exactly it might be doing to his mind.” Hyrule glanced down at Sky, his mouth twisting a bit in concern. “The best we can do for him right now is just be there for him, I guess.” 

“Yeah,” Zelda agreed softly, biting her lip before adding, “Look, I can watch over him for a bit. I’m sure you might want to stretch your legs or get some fresh air or something.” 

“You’re sure?” 

“Of course.” 

“Thank you. I should probably go get some potions prepared for him, anyway.” Hyrule gulped his tea down in a single swallow, then set the cup back on the tray and offered a final smile to Zelda before ducking out of the room. 

Zelda poured herself her own cup of tea, adding a splash of milk and a spoonful of honey before she leaned back against the wall with a sigh, blowing on her tea to cool it and watching Sky sleep. He looked so peaceful, all snuggled up in his nest of blankets with fluffy, caramel-colored hair falling into his face, but there was an underlying sense of pain to his expression. As if perhaps he was dreaming, but not the happy kind. 

Only a few more minutes went by before his entire body spasmed violently, one of his bandaged arms lashing out and slamming into the mattress, and then suddenly he was sitting bolt upright, chest heaving for breath as he gripped his blankets in both hands and tried to make sense of his surroundings. 

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Zelda ventured cautiously after a moment had gone by and he still hadn’t noticed her standing there. The effect was immediate– his entire body tensed, and his head whipped around to face her, his expression changing rapidly from bewilderment, to awe, to a look so soft that something inside of her sparked with memories that slid away again just as quickly as they had surfaced. 

“Zelda?” he whispered, faint and unsure, bangs falling thickly into his deep blue eyes. 

“Yes, I’m here.” She offered him a hesitant smile, then watched as he leaned back on his elbows, not taking his eyes off of her as if he was afraid she would vanish if he looked away for an instant. “I, um, brought you breakfast… do you like tea?” 

“Tea,” he echoed numbly, voice hoarse. His gaze was still riveted to her face. 

“Yes, tea, have– have you never had it before? I–” 

“No, I– I like it, yes,” he stammered hastily, lifting one bandaged hand and brushing it half-consciously through his hair. “I…I’m sorry, I just– I don't know if they’ve told you anything–” 

She gave him a sympathetic smile as she poured out a cup of steaming tea for him. “About the curse? They gave me a shortened version, but I think I understand well enough. I– I’m sorry that I can’t remember you, if we really were acquainted before.” Which, judging by his frenzied reaction a few days ago, they had known each other once. 

“We– we were,” he answered bitterly, head bowing slightly in defeat. He seemed like he wanted to say more but was unsure of how to approach it. “We were best friends, actually,” he added quietly after a few more minutes had gone by. “Since the age of five.” 

“Were we?” She tipped her head to one side, studying him. He really was quite handsome, all wide blue eyes and golden-brown hair and tanned skin, and, well, she could almost imagine that they had been more than friends, that–

“Do you like sugar in your tea?” she asked him brightly to interrupt her own train of thought. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on what might have been when she could remember nothing about him. 

He blinked at her, eyes still moving across her face and making her nervous. “Yeah,” he answered slowly after a moment. “Five scoops, if you don’t mind. And a bit of milk too.” 

“Five scoops? Goodness,” Zelda remarked, grinning a bit as she followed his instructions. “I don’t know how you can stand so much sweetness.” 

“I know.” He gave a short laugh, his lips curling up at the edges in a regretful manner. “That’s what you’ve always told me.” 

Oh. 

“Here.” Her hands were trembling as she finished stirring his tea and handed it to him, liquid sloshing over the edges due to the tremor in her palms. He offered her a sad smile and reached to take the cup from her, his fingers bumping her sleeve as he did so and sending a shiver through them both.

“Are– are you feeling any better?” Zelda blurted, taking a hasty step away from him and leaning back against the wall again. 

He shrugged unconvincingly, sipping his tea and shifting into a cross-legged position. She tried not to stare at the scars spreading over the skin visible on his torso– branching whitish-red patterns twisting over his shoulders and neck and other bare spots that the bandages didn’t cover. They certainly weren’t the same scars that she had seen stitched up a few days ago; then she had been so focused on helping Warriors in his task that she hadn’t even noticed these odd, branch-like marks she could see now. She had no idea what could have possibly caused them. 

“I’m okay,” Sky answered her previous question after a moment, distracting her from wondering about his scars. “I mean, everything hurts, but I should be pretty used to pain by now, I guess.” 

She wasn’t really sure what he meant by that, or if she should ask him. “I’m sorry,” she said instead, voice soft. “I think they’re coming to change your bandages in a little bit, and bring some more potions– that should help with the pain, at least.” 

“Yeah.” He took another drink of tea, watching her from beneath long lashes. “So, um… how’s the surface settlement coming along?” 

“Oh, it’s– it’s coming along pretty well,” she stammered, surprised by the question. “We’ve got a few houses up besides this one, and we’re trying to figure out crops we can grow down here. Certainly a lot more than we had back home.” 

“Are Pipit and Karane still dating?” 

Zelda blinked. He knew Pipit and Karane? But– of course he did. She kept forgetting. She nodded in reply to his question, lips tipping upwards slightly. “Yeah, they’re as much in love as they ever were. Took them long enough to figure out, the sillies. As a matter of fact, I have good reason to expect that they’ll be getting engaged soon. Pipit’s been very secretive.” 

Sky chuckled, seeming amused. “He’s always been good at keeping secrets. I think I was the only one who knew he had a crush on Karane for the longest time. She, on the other hand– I think people would’ve had to be blind not to know she liked him.” 

Zelda giggled. “Yes, you’re right. Karane told me she liked Pipit years ago, but I didn’t think anything would ever come of it.” 

“Well, it finally did.” A smile crossed his face, and he tipped his head back against the wall, watching her. There was a long silence, so long Zelda began to grow uncomfortable beneath the weight of his gaze, but finally Sky ventured in an almost timid voice, “So… who do you remember defeating Demise?”  

Zelda blinked. Of all the things he could have asked her, that was the last one, but now that he mentioned it, it was a good question. Especially because she couldn’t quite recall…

“I don’t remember,” she answered slowly after a moment. “I think it was me, though, or… I don’t know. I just remember being in pain, and there was golden light everywhere and someone was screaming, and then I woke up in the Sealed Temple and Demise was gone. Groose says he doesn’t remember much either aside from that light, but apparently he caught me when I fell out of the air, or something. He says I must have defeated him, but I’m–” She swallowed. “I’m not sure. Groose might remember more now than I do.” 

Sky’s expression shifted imperceptibly as she was talking, and his gaze flicked to the depths of his teacup. A long beat passed before he said quietly, “So, are you and Groose…? 

“ Groose? ” Zelda snorted; the very notion was preposterous. “Oh, please. As if. He’s just a big idiot. He always used to–” She paused, discomfort flashing over her face as she realized she wasn’t sure what she had been about to say. 

“He always what?” Sky prodded, taking a slice of bread from the tea tray.

“I– I don’t know,” Zelda fumbled to reply. “I… I forget.” 

His gaze snapped up to her again, his expression vaguely startled. “Groose used to bully me,” he said a bit absently after a moment, tearing loose a piece of bread but not eating it. “I was always getting beat up by him– behind the academy, in a random field, down by the waterfall. And you always tried to save me.” He chuckled without mirth, his face becoming distant. “Groose finally came around on my quest, though. He’s a great guy now.” 

“Yeah,” Zelda echoed slowly. She knew Groose had reformed from his former meanness during the last few months, but she hadn’t actually been there to see it– her previous assumption had been that old Impa, who Groose had lovingly referred to as Grannie, had helped him become a better person. But maybe– maybe it was because of both Impa and Sky. Or Link, as he had called himself the other day. He must be a good person if he was able to forgive Groose after all Groose had supposedly done to him, right? 

“So– you said we were best friends?” she ventured cautiously after a few minutes.

Sky nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we were. I, uh, came to live at the academy at a pretty young age, after my parents were killed in a freak accident. My room is at the bottom of the stairs, directly to the left. We used to sneak into each other’s rooms at night, which was pretty risky, but eventually we discovered this boarded-up ventilation chimney and decided that was a safer method. I could just crawl out of my window onto the academy roof and then climb up the chimney; there was a little tunnel beneath it that led to your room.” 

Zelda’s eyes widened. She knew which tunnel he was talking about, though she wasn’t sure exactly how she knew. It was just some memory implanted in her brain. And the room he described as his… hadn’t that room always been empty? Unused?  

“What would we do?” she asked. 

He smiled a little. “Oh, just stupid stuff. Perform skits, talk about dumb things Groose had done, gossip about if Pipit and Karane were ever going to get together. You tried teaching me how to knit once, but I couldn’t get the hang of it and we ended up using the yarn to imitate Groose’s pompadour instead. And a few times I tried teaching you woodcarving, but you weren’t the biggest fan.” 

“You carve wood?” Zelda stared at him, another memory jostling in her brain. Those two purple loftwing carvings in her room– carvings that she couldn’t remember getting, but they always seemed to have been there. It would feel wrong if they were gone.

“Yeah.” Sky ate a final bite of bread, then lifted his cup of tea again. “Loftwings are my favorite thing to carve, but I’ve carved dozens of things over the years. Remlits, beetles, people. I made a carving of us once, actually.” His mouth curled into a half-smile. “But that was back before I really knew what I was doing, and it looked so awful I shoved it into my wardrobe and never pulled it out again.” 

Zelda made a mental note to snoop in the supposedly empty room in the academy later, to see if his words were really true. Out loud she said, “Sounds like we had a lot of fun together.” 

His smile dropped, and he sighed, one hand carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Yeah, we did. Everyone, um–” He blushed, not meeting her gaze and sounding sheepish. “Everyone always said we would get married one day.” 

So I was right. We were more than friends. 

“And…” She bit her lip, feeling unreasonably bashful all of a sudden. “Did anything ever come of that?” 

She could see him mulling the question over, his hands fidgeting nervously with a loose string on his pants. Finally he answered quietly, so soft she could barely hear, “After my quest… after Demise… we were up on the goddess statue, and things just sort of happened, and– you kissed me.” 

Zelda’s cheeks instantly erupted with flaming heat. “I kissed you?” she repeated. She couldn’t see herself doing something like that, but if they had really known each other since they were children, if they had been apart for months like he was implying– 

“Yeah.” Another soft smile crossed his face at the memory. “And after that, well, nothing really changed in our relationship except that we told everyone we were officially dating. I guess they all thought we already had been.” 

“Oh.” 

They were both quiet for a few minutes, Sky continuing to fidget with the bit of string and Zelda sorting out everything she had just heard in her mind. Eventually she gathered up her courage and said cautiously, “So… your name is really Link, correct?” 

His gaze fell on her again, seeming surprised as a flush settled over his face. “Yeah, it is,” he said simply, pulling the loose thread free and twining it nervously around his fingers. “Link…it’s actually, uh, all of our names. To tell each other apart we made up nicknames based on our respective adventures.” 

“That makes sense. I was wondering why all of your names were so strange.” Zelda gave a light laugh, then tilted her head slightly, studying him. “I think Sky would fit you if it were your real name, but Link–” 

Link is just right– 

 She saw Sky’s breath catch a little as he looked back at her, eyes wide and startled, and for a moment Zelda was positive that if she had eternity to get lost in his gaze, she would. Just for a moment, though, and then she remembered herself, cheeks heating as she pushed away from the wall and hoped she hadn’t been staring for too long. 

“I– I should go get this taken care of,” Zelda whispered, gesturing to the tea tray. She was reaching to pick it up when Sky’s hand, calloused and partially bandaged, snagged hers. Startled, she flicked her gaze to him and was surprised to see him staring at her with shimmering eyes, an unreadable expression clouding his face. 

“Please don’t leave,” he said hoarsely. 

Zelda stammered, because after that single glance she knew that no power on this earth could resist those blue eyes. “Okay,” she murmured in reply after a moment. “I won’t. But– just let me take the tray out to the kitchen, so it doesn’t get in the way as they bandage you up.” 

“Okay,” he said faintly, reluctantly releasing his grip on her hand. She was just starting to pull away when she noticed something odd. 

There was blood on her fingers. 

Chapter Text

Sky couldn’t help but feel confused when he saw Zelda’s expression shift rapidly from soft sadness to a look of shock and horror as she released his hand. Had he said something offensive, perhaps, or done something that she perceived as rude or improper? He was just opening his mouth to ask what he had done wrong when she spoke first, her brows furrowing. 

“Sky?” 

He blinked at her, perplexed. “What?” 

She hesitated, seeming unsure of how to respond before silently holding out the hand he had just been holding. Confused, he glanced down at it and was startled to see blood smeared across her fingers and palm. Immediate panic jolted through him, and he leaned forward, catching her hand in both of his and turning it every which way in an attempt to find the source of the blood. 

“Sky, no, it’s–” She pulled her hand free of his and took a step backwards, shaking her head and looking at him with terrified eyes. “I’m… I’m not bleeding.” 

“But– but if you’re not, then–” 

He cut himself off, eyes going wide as he suddenly became aware of the burning sensation spreading through his hands. 

Oh. 

Sky looked down at his hands almost at the same moment that Zelda did. Blood was leaking through the bandages wound across his palms and fingers, still faintly patterned in the harsh and jagged lines that formed the runes on his skin, but slowly seeping across the cloth into indistinguishable blotches of red. Numbly Sky peeled away one of the bandages, his heart constricting in his chest as he saw that the runes upon his left hand– and therefore probably his right as well– had split open again, the stitches that had held them together torn in half.

“Why are they–” He swallowed hard, desperately trying to draw air into his lungs and shaking his head as if trying to jolt the answer from the depths of his mind. “What would have caused this? I–” 

“...You just touched me.” 

“What?” Sky’s eyes moved up to look at Zelda again, his brows knitting together in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

She didn’t look at him, her face going pale as she stared down at her hands, seeming to be piecing something together. “You touched me,” she repeated, almost to herself. “And–” 

He wound the bandage around his hand again, doing his best to stop the trembling in his fingers as his eyes welled with tears. “I, I don’t– I don’t understand, what are you saying?” 

She didn’t answer, still staring at her hands as her eyes squeezed shut in pain. Fear jolted through Sky’s veins, and helplessly he reached out towards her, breath unsteady. “Zelda?” he said haltingly, fingers brushing against her arm. 

“No– stop– don’t touch me !” Zelda shrieked in alarm, yanking her arm away and stumbling backwards out of his reach. Sky froze at her words, ice crawling up his spine and into his heart as he stared at her with his hand still outstretched. 

She stared down at him with sheer panic on her face, arms curled against her chest as she said, all in a rush,“It’s– it’s me, don’t you see, it’s because of me– magic hurts you, remember? And I– I’m the goddess. I am magic– I, I can’t touch you, I’ll just make you bleed –” 

“No, that…that can’t be it, that’s not true, I–” Tears began spilling down his cheeks as he continued reaching for her, desperate for her touch, for her . “It has to be something else. Maybe the stitches weren’t strong enough, maybe–” 

“No,” she interrupted in a whisper, though her own eyes seemed to be filling with tears as she backed away from him. “No, it’s– it’s me, Sky, it has to be. There’s magic in every ounce of my being. It’s the only explanation–” 

“No, it isn’t,” he choked, leaning too far over the edge of the bed and falling abruptly to the floor, still tangled in his blankets. “Please, it can’t be–” Weakly, nonsensically he reached up towards her again with both arms like a child, face twisted in sheer anguish, blood dripping from his fingers. “You said you were still my Zelda, you said– you promised– we both did, why won’t you remember–” 

“Stop it!” Zelda cried, tripping over her own feet in a panic as she tried to move out of his reach. “Get away from me, don’t touch me– I don’t want to hurt you–” 

“You can’t hurt me,” Sky sobbed, screamed, fingernails digging into the floor as he crumpled forward with his forehead almost pressed to the ground. He barely felt the wood splintering beneath his nails as he shrieked, “You can’t hurt me. Not you. Not ever. Please, please, I can’t do this anymore– please remember me–” 

He lifted his head to look up at her where she stood pressed against a wall, one hand covering her mouth and fear in her eyes as she returned his stare. She was afraid of– of him . 

Zelda, his Zelda, was afraid of him.

Sky went still and silent at the realization, suddenly aware of how pathetic he must look, how ridiculous – a small and broken boy with a tear-stained face and a voice raw from screaming, blankets half-draped over his legs as he lay twisted on the floor with bloody hands–

Soundless tears spilled down Zelda’s cheeks as she looked down at him, at this pathetic excuse for a hero who must seem so frail and worthless to her now. Not that she remembered him anyway. Perhaps that was a good thing, because now she had nothing good to compare him to. Nothing to break her heart more than necessary. Nothing to make her feel ashamed of this hollow shell of a hero he had become. 

Anguish seized him in such a tight grip he could scarcely draw breath, his head falling forward so his chin was nearly touching his chest. He sucked air frantically into his lungs, dragging himself onto his hands and knees and staring at the wooden floor beneath him that was now scratched and ruined by his own fingers. His heart thudded dully, mockingly in his ears. Thump-thud. Thump-thud. Thump-thud.  

How he wished it would stop beating. 

Sky pressed his forehead against the cool wooden floorboards and shuddered, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to catch his breath, as the world stopped spinning and his emotions died down to an empty echo. For a moment it felt as if he were trapped in the river again, drowning, his life gently slipping away as peace overwhelmed him. 

He wished he had never been pulled from the jaws of the water, wished he had never been torn from its kind embrace. If only he could be there still, floating forever into darkness. No more pain. 

“I’m sorry,” he heard someone saying, rough and hoarse and laced with tears, and after a moment realized it was his own voice speaking. 

How strange that he should no longer know himself. 

A muffled voice, Zelda perhaps, whispered something in response, but his head was roaring too loud for him to hear what it was. He rolled over onto his side, his back to Zelda, and stretched one arm out weakly across the floor, bloodied fingers twitching limply against the wooden boards. There was a moment of silence before footsteps paced dully out of the room, barely audible over the mocking rhythm of his heart. 

Thump-thud. Thump-thud. Thump-thud. 

Sky breathed in, and out, and focused on how cool and smooth the floor felt beneath his cheek, and how his eyes were stinging but no longer teary, and how he suddenly didn’t feel anything, anything at all. 

It was nice, somehow. Nice to feel so calm, so still. Nice for his heart not to be aching. 

But empty, a voice in his mind whispered, so empty. So lonely. So cold. 

Like he was standing at the edge of an endless abyss, wind whipping around him as he stared down into the blackness at his feet, the only thing left alive in a world that had fallen to pieces. Nothing more to do. No more to feel.

 Just blackness. 

“How nice,” Sky whispered numbly to the silence, pulse still rushing in his ears. Thump-thud. Thump-thud. Thump-thud. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. So peaceful, so quiet. 

So cold and suffocating.  

Sky let his eyes fall shut. 

He was vaguely aware of thinking how nice it would be if he never had to open them again.

Chapter Text

“Sky, please eat just a few bites,” Wild urged, pushing the bowl of pumpkin stew he had prepared just a little while ago closer to Sky’s face. “You need to get your strength up again.” 

“Not hungry,” Sky mumbled in response, huddling against the wall, where he had been sitting since the incident with Zelda earlier that morning. It was an effort even to form those two simple words, an effort to lift his hand to push the bowl away from his face, an effort to turn towards the wall so his back was to the Champion. 

It was an effort to be alive.

“All right,” he heard Wild say reluctantly after a moment, though it was dull and muffled due to the nauseating ache that roared in his ears and drowned out all else. “I’ll come back in a little bit and see if you feel any more like eating.” 

Sky heard the sounds of Wild getting up and exiting the room, leaving the door partially cracked and Sky all alone. He slumped further against the wall, arms locked tightly around his torso as if to prevent the outside world from perceiving the deadness of his heart, and stared at a crack in the stone wall for so long his eyes glazed over. 

There was whispering outside his door. 

Sky twisted his head slightly, tilting it to one side in an attempt to hear better, but the voices were too quiet for him to be able to understand at this distance. After a long moment of willing himself to move, he managed to force himself to his feet and shuffled across the floor to the door, thankful he was barefoot so he wouldn’t make any unnecessary noise and alert whoever was outside to his presence. 

Halting just behind the door frame where he would be out of sight, he caught his breath and pressed one ear close to the crack in the door, listening. 

“He wouldn’t eat anything,” he could hear Wild murmuring. “Said he wasn’t hungry. I’ll go back in a bit and see if his appetite is any different, but I don’t know.” 

“Maybe we could try another potion?” another voice suggested. Twilight, from the twang in the words. 

“What good would that do? He might not even drink it.” Warriors was speaking now. “Besides, I don’t think he’s having a problem healing physically, well, except for what happened this morning. It’s more of…” 

“A mental thing,” put in the soft voice of Hyrule. “We need to keep an eye on him.” 

There was silence for a moment, and then Sky caught the voice of the old man, lower than the rest. “I think at some point we ought to discuss… what we should do when the next portal appears.” 

What? 

Sky’s heart shuddered violently in his chest and then went icy cold again as Time’s words washed over him fully. This was something he– and likely the others too, judging by their shocked silence– hadn’t considered in the slightest. What would happen if another portal appeared while he was still recovering, and while he was in his own Hyrule? Would he keep traveling with the chain, even though they didn’t remember him at all? Or would he stay here in a land that didn’t remember him either, be a burden to people who didn’t know him anymore, go through day after day with the painful knowledge of everything he had lost? 

The floor pitched beneath his feet, and with a ragged gasp Sky tilted forward and pressed his forehead against the wall, forcing himself to continue listening even as the world began melting into grotesque shapes around him. 

“I think we’ll have to ask him that,” Twilight was saying, uncertain. “We can’t just make that decision for him.” 

“No, but we can’t very well take him along with us, not in this condition. Hylia knows how many portals we’ve gone through, and they’re magic, remember? They would only make the runes on his body worse and worse. He would need stitches regularly, and besides, think of all the enemies and weapons we encounter that have at least some magic in them. He would suffer and for no good reason.” There was a long silence. “I think we may have to leave him here.” 

“No!” The captain. “He’s one of us, or have you forgotten how he nearly died to save you?” There was a slight edge to Warriors’ words. “We can’t just leave one of our own behind. And besides, he needs watching over. He–” 

“And how do you suggest we do that, Wars?” Legend’s voice lacked its usual sharpness. “Like the old man said, the poor kid would be suffering. The portals alone would make the runes break open again and bleed on a regular basis, not to mention all the other magic we would be dealing with. We would be dragging him along and making his injuries worse for no good reason. I think… I think Time is right. We can’t bring him with us.” 

No– 

“I guess that’s a fair way of looking at it,” Warriors amended reluctantly. “I wouldn’t want him to be in pain. But I also wouldn’t mind tending his wounds after each portal, or giving him potions, or keeping an eye on him, or whatever is necessary–” 

“No, Wars.” Hyrule’s voice was thick as he continued, “There’s no easy way we could just take him along with us. Originally, yes, before we knew it was causing him pain. But there’s no way now. Even if you did tend his wounds, he would still need stitches periodically after so many portals and other magic encounters. Besides, he’s familiar with this Hyrule; it’s where he’s from. It’s his home. I think he would have the most chances at happiness if we– if we left him here.” 

No– 

Please, no, don’t leave me–

Don’t leave me here–

Sky bit the inside of his cheek so hard that the metallic tang of blood coated his tongue. He clamped one hand over his mouth, forcing each breath in and out of his lungs and trying desperately not to panic. They couldn’t leave him here. They just couldn’t. Someone had to speak up, to defend him. They couldn’t just decide his fate without him present. 

But– they were right there, he could speak to them himself, couldn’t he? Yes, that was it. He would go out there, and speak to them, and make them change their minds. They couldn’t leave him. There was no cure, no way for him to find healing here. Surely in another one of their Hyrules there had to be some kind of solution. 

He steeled himself and took a step forward, pushing the door wider and letting light from the hall spill over his body. The rest of the chain fell silent as they turned towards him with wide eyes and tight mouths, their faces collectively going white as they came to realize he must have been listening to their conversation.

“Sky–” Time started to say. 

“You can’t leave me here,” Sky whispered. 

Time faltered and fell silent, and an uneasy silence crept through the atmosphere, wrapping cold fingers around Sky’s throat and threatening to choke him. “You can’t leave me here,” he repeated, numb, the world swirling around him in splintered fragments. “I– there’s nothing for me here, not anymore, you saw– you saw what happened with Zelda this morning, you– there’s no cure, there wouldn’t be anything, I couldn’t fix the curse if I stayed here, I would be stuck– you can’t just leave me– ” 

“Sky,” Hyrule tried to interrupt, but the words were overwhelming Sky now, and he couldn’t breathe. He stumbled backwards, gripping the doorframe of his room, and forged blindly onwards, well aware that he was spewing nonsense but unable to control himself, unable to control the anguish that threatened to devour him. 

“I don’t care about the portals, they’re not that bad, it’s just a quick burst of pain and then it’s gone– really, I’d be fine, I promise, I wouldn’t mind drinking potions every day to heal the scars up again if they happened to break open, I– please take me, I promise I won’t be any trouble, I just– you can’t leave me here, if you leave me here then I’ll stay like this forever, and I’ll– I’ll never be able to find a cure, I– I won’t ever be able to lift the curse if you leave me here, please– please don’t leave me, don’t go without me, I can’t find a way to lift the curse if I stay here–” 

“Sky,” said Legend, forcefully, and Sky finally stopped speaking, trembling violently as he pressed against the doorframe for support. 

“Sky,” the veteran went on, softly. “You won’t ever– you won’t ever be able to lift the curse, Sky. There’s– there is no cure, remember? Not here, and not in any other Hyrule. It’s…it’s permanent. Some way or another, you have to come to terms with that, and I think you would have your best chance at accepting it, at living life, if you– stayed here.” 

I know, I know it’s permanent, but it can’t be true, there must be some way, please please please please please– 

The voice in his head was still screaming like a rabid beast as Sky collected himself, swallowed fiercely, forced himself to give a tight nod even as the world crumbled to dust around him for the thousandth time that week. 

“You’re right,” he whispered blankly, eyes glazing over. “Of course you’re right. There is no cure. I would be better off staying here. Better off not going with you. Letting you all– leave me.”  

“I’m sure there would be other portals that would lead here, and we could visit you–” he heard someone saying distantly, but the numbness was stealing over him again, stronger than before. Like a shroud of ice enveloping his entire body and sinking through skin and bone directly into his heart. He didn’t fight it, because the numbness meant peace. No more of the ridiculous panic that kept overtaking him in its terrifying grip, no more of the raw ache that tore at his throat and lungs till he could scarcely draw breath. He welcomed the numbness, allowed it to settle, allowed it to commandeer his thoughts. His thoughts, his goddess-cursed thoughts, he was so sick of them, but the numbness froze all of them gently into blessed silence. 

All of them, that is, but one. A thought that had reared its ugly head time and time again in recent days, though it didn’t seem ugly to him anymore. 

Not now. 

The chain was still clamoring around him, surrounding him with noise and smiles and reassurance that it would be okay, but Sky barely processed what they were saying as the idea took root in his mind. 

“–yes, it won’t be as bad as you think, you’re home again–” 

“–you’ll have your Loftwing, he remembers you, he–” 

Peace. That’s all I want. 

Sky let the air in his lungs escape in a long breath and said, slow and heavy, “Think I’ll go rest now.” After a pause he added, barely able to muster the energy to force out the words, “Tired. Should sleep some.” 

“Yes, go sleep,” Hyrule said softly, touching Sky’s arm gently as the chain gradually lapsed into silence. “I’m sure you’ll feel better afterwards.” 

“Yes,” Sky agreed in deadened tones as he turned back into his room. “Feel better.”

“I’ll be there in just a bit to give you a potion, so don’t go to sleep just yet,” Hyrule called as Sky began to push the door shut, blocking out the worried faces of the chain. “I’ve got to grab it out of my pack and do a few other things first. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sky repeated woodenly, gaze unfocused as he let the door click shut and plunged the room into darkness again. 

He rested his head against the cool stone wall and pressed his eyes shut and whispered a final goodbye, taking a last moment to listen to the quiet chatter of voices on the opposite side of the wall before he turned away and moved towards the window in one corner, unlatching it and reaching out to catch hold of a tree branch just outside. He maneuvered his way along the branch, across to the tree trunk, and down to the ground, where he stole away into the shadows of the night with only a final parting glance at the warm light streaming from the windows behind him. 

Sky’s heart pounded ragged in his ears as he ran, out of breath and feeling disembodied from himself as he ducked into the forest beyond the settlement and pushed onwards until he was certain he was far enough. Just ahead was the great stone bridge that hung over Lake Floria, with the balcony at the very end over which he had leapt so long ago into the deep, sunlit waters below. Except this time he would be falling, not leaping, and the water was now dark and yawning in the shadows of the night. Black like the void that haunted his dreams, dancing just out of his reach, except soon he would be drifting in it forever. 

Sky walked out to the very edge of the stone bridge and came to a halt, surveying the darkened sky for a final time and savoring the feel of the cool and misty wind upon his skin. Crimson was up there somewhere, flying free amidst the clouds, and Sky’s throat tightened at the thought. “Goodbye, my friend,” he whispered, stretching one trembling hand up towards the stars as if in a last embrace. “I’m sorry I failed you. I hope you won’t take it too hard.” 

The numbness sank its claws even deeper into Sky’s heart, reminding him of his purpose for being here. He drew a trembling breath and knelt upon the cold stone of the bridge, staring at the water below which served as a promise of release from this pain he would be entrapped in for the rest of his life, and yet– 

And yet– 

I don't want to go, Sky thought against his will, eyes stinging with unshed tears as he stared down at the darkness of the lake. I don’t want to leave. To leave all their faces, all I’ve ever known, all I’ve ever loved, behind, no matter how foreign they’ve become. 

I don’t want to go. 

He shuddered, almost ready to turn back, tearing his gaze from the tumbling water below. 

But peace, whispered the voice in the back of his mind, stilling his feet on the cold stone of the bridge. This is the only way you’ll ever find peace. Just give in. 

Just let go. 

Sky drew a long breath to compose himself and looked for a final time at the water thundering far below him, washed silver as it frothed in the starlight. In only a moment he would be floating in its cool embrace forever. No more pain. 

Sky smiled, just for a moment, and stepped to the edge again. 

“I’m sorry,” the chosen one whispered to whatever might be listening to a broken hero in the dark– the sky, the moon, the grass, the trees, things he used to love so dearly. Now they stood silently, awaiting his end. “I’m sorry I couldn’t do it anymore.” 

He spread his arms out like a bird and perched at the very end of the bridge, letting his eyes fall shut and savoring his last moments. The voice in his head went silent, satisfied, and Sky exhaled his final breath and prepared to tip over the edge. 

But just then another voice, very real and very close, burst out from behind him. 

“Sky! Sky, no!”  

Chapter Text

Sky’s heart jerked violently in his chest at the voice, but it was too late. He was already tipping forward over the edge, wind whipping against his face, the dark and frothing water looming hundreds of feet below. I’m sorry, he thought to whoever had called to him, to whoever was about to witness him fall. You weren’t supposed to be here. It’s too late now. 

He shut his eyes. Too late. It was always too late, except this time it was someone else who didn’t get there in time. Not his fault. Maybe if they had arrived a moment sooner, he would have stayed. But now it was too late. Now– 

Sky’s train of thought was abruptly torn apart as a strong pair of arms flung themselves around his torso and hauled him forcibly backwards, away from the edge of the bridge. Away from starlit water and deep flickering shadows and the last murmur of air leaving his lungs. Away from peace. 

The momentum carried them both backwards, and Sky heard whoever was holding him give a grunt of pain as they slammed into the stone of the bridge, stars wheeling overhead. For a moment he was angry, no, furious, twisting wildly in the arms of whoever had seized him, his hands shoving viciously against them in an attempt to free himself. “Let me go–” he heard himself shrieking, spitting with rage, adrenaline jolting through his veins like molten lava. 

But all too soon the realization, the terror of what he had been about to do came crashing down on him with such force the breath was nearly ripped from his body. He sagged in the person’s grip, suddenly too weak to keep fighting, his heart dropping into his stomach as he thought about how close he had come. Perhaps it would have brought peace, or perhaps– perhaps it would have been slow, and painful, and terrifying, and perhaps he would have wished he never did it– 

Ice began to wash over him in waves because even now, even though he was safe and secure and alive, he could almost feel the water closing over his head. Could almost taste the coldness of it on his tongue. Could almost hear his own futile screams, softened by bubbles and smothered by a deep, watery grave. 

He was alive, but in his mind he was trapped, drowning. The fate he would have resigned himself to if not for whoever was holding him. 

He let out a few shaking breaths of air and twisted his head slightly to discover that Twilight was the one sitting behind him, practically holding him in his lap with Sky’s torso encased safely in his arms. For some reason that was surprising to him– he wasn’t sure who he was expecting, but it wasn’t the rancher. 

“Twi?” he whispered.

“Just rest, Sky,” Twilight choked, his voice rough with tears and relief, one of his arms lifting to cradle Sky’s head as if he were the most valuable thing in the world. The calloused fingers of his other hand began combing through the chosen’s unkempt hair, a gesture so soft and soothing and familiar that for a moment Sky’s thoughts went quiet.

He shuddered, sinking back into the warm security of Twilight’s embrace, stomach churning with nausea and regret as he tried to force his breathing into check. But flashes of the frothing spray, the starlit water, the black void at his feet still swirled in his mind like poison, filling him with terror until he was shaking beyond control. “I’ve got you,” Twilight murmured, detecting Sky’s tremors, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough. He needed– he– 

“Can you…” He cut himself off, shame welling within him at the idea of speaking it aloud. He had no right, really– not after all that had been done for him, not after all he did to them– 

“What is it?” Twilight said nonetheless. Softly, gently, still brushing his fingers through the chosen one’s hair.  

“–Can you hold me tighter,” Sky managed to force out after a moment, pushing the words past his internal shame, fingers scraping over the stone of the bridge below him as violent shudders tore through his body.

Twilight tightened his arms around Sky without another word, holding him almost to the point of pain and seeming to automatically understand his need for contact. Sky squeezed his eyes shut and curled his hands over the rancher’s, feeling Twilight’s chest rise and fall against his back with each breath he took, taking comfort in the knowledge that someone was there. That someone cared. 

He didn’t want to think about the awkward questions that would surely come up, but Twilight didn’t say anything, just held him tight until Sky was grounded enough to hoarsely ask, “How did– how did you find me?” 

“I, um–” Twilight hesitated for a moment, seeming to be mulling something over before he answered honestly, “I tracked you.” 

Oh.  

“Wolfie?” Sky managed, and felt the slight hitch in the rancher’s breathing at his question even as Twilight nodded uncertainly in response. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone. Anyone who doesn’t already know, that is,” he amended, thinking of Time and Wild. There was no way they still weren’t aware.

“Did I know– that you knew?” Twilight said softly. “Before…?” 

Sky shook his head, shame heating his cheeks as he admitted, “No. I, um– I’m not sure how you would have reacted.” 

“What do you mean?” Twilight shifted Sky slightly in his arms so the chosen was facing him, a frown furrowing his brows. “Wouldn’t I have been fine with it?” 

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Sky shrugged, trying to seem lighthearted as if it didn’t matter, but he could tell his efforts fell flat since he had just been rescued from ending his own life. “Don’t worry about it.”  

“Sky,” Twilight persisted, concern etched over his features. “What are you trying to say? Were– were we not friends before you were cursed?” 

“We were,” Sky said slowly, wishing he hadn’t brought this up. Wishing he could’ve kept it silent forever, since no one would ever remember it anyway. “But–” 

“But?” the rancher repeated, waiting. Dread covering his face. 

“But I was a disappointment,” Sky went on reluctantly after a moment. “To all of you. The whole chain. I wasn’t fast enough, or smart enough, and– I never fought Ganondorf. And I could tell that you all thought less of me for it. Because I wasn’t a true hero, I wasn’t a true Link– because I was weak– because I was slow, and a failure– because I never told you all about what I actually did, so you never knew that I–”

I cursed you. 

A horrible and debilitating realization struck him fully, forcefully in the chest as the all-too-familiar thought crossed his mind, and Sky stopped breathing for a moment to consider it. 

Perhaps…perhaps this curse that he himself was now trapped in was penance for the tragedy he had inflicted on those who bore his spirit. They, doomed to wander a bloodsoaked sea of darkness– he, fated to be forever alone and unloved. Was this his punishment? His atonement for the blood on his hands? Their blood, the blood of his brothers, coating his skin long before he had even met them? He had never told them, had never been brave enough to admit to them just why they were forced into a life of unwanted heroism, but– 

He exhaled a long, slow breath as the realization gradually began to settle and absorb in his mind. 

He deserved this. Didn’t he? He should have seen it before now. Should have realized that nothing, nothing could make up for what he did to them. Maybe this was the price, small and futile though it was, he had to pay to atone for the burden thrust upon them. 

My fault. 

It’s always been my fault. 

“I just don’t want to do it anymore,” he finally forced himself to say, hoping Twilight would forget his previous statements if he changed the subject a little. “Wake up, day after day, and just feel numb and empty and tired and then go to sleep again and repeat it all– I don’t want to be a burden to anyone; no one needs me anyway–”  

“Sky, no. No. Listen to me. People need you,” Twilight interrupted vehemently, pressing his hands on either side of Sky’s face and bumping his forehead against the chosen’s. “ We need you, Sky. Don’t despair. There is still life in you, okay? There is still hope, there’s always hope. Don’t give up on life. We need you. And I promise,” the rancher added in as fierce a tone as Sky had ever heard him use, “I will never let them leave you behind. I’m sorry— I’m so sorry we made you think that you weren’t wanted, or that you weren’t as deserving, or—”

He trailed off in surprise as Sky’s hands suddenly twisted in the fabric of his tunic in an action reminiscent of when he had clung to the rancher after first awaking in the cave. The chosen curled forward against Twilight’s chest, tucking his head beneath the rancher’s chin and burying his face in his collar, desperate for contact, for closeness, for the touch of someone he cared about, someone who used to care about him and maybe still did. Twilight was quick to pull Sky in even closer, his arms tightening around the chosen one as slowly and gently he began to rock him back and forth and make soft, soothing sounds. 

The tears arrived before Sky was fully aware that they were even beginning. But they were not violent, panicked tears like the ones that had afflicted him so often these past days. These were soft, and silent, and full of so much numbness he scarcely felt them at first, but as the seconds trickled past they began to arrive with more and more force, though still with silence. 

“I’m sorry, Sky,” Twilight said desperately, burying one hand in Sky’s hair. “Please believe me. I’m sure it wasn’t what you thought, I’m sure it–” 

“No,” Sky was sobbing suddenly, the words spilling from his mouth almost against his will as the memory of why he even went into that wretched cave came crashing back, along with guilt and shame and fear. “It’s not just that. Even before, even when you all still knew who I was— it was like I was invisible, like I didn’t matter, like no one cared about me at all, like—” He heaved for breath, choking on his own tears and pressing his hands so hard against his eyes that stars burst painfully across his vision. “So I guess I kind of figured that since you don’t remember me now, you must care even less, so you wouldn’t mind if I— if I was dead— I certainly wouldn’t – ” 

“Don’t say that,” Twilight cried in horror, grabbing Sky by the wrists and pulling his hands from his face so he could look the Skyloftian in the eyes. “Don’t you ever say that again, you hear me? You matter to us, to all of us, and–” 

“No, stop, STOP IT, stop trying to make me feel better, you don’t know what I did to you,” Sky cried out, raw and forceful, pushing Twilight away and falling onto his hands and knees on the stone bridge. The blood on his hands was so thick now, the smell of it choking him. Their blood. The blood of a curse, a curse more terrible than the one now imprinted upon his skin.

“What do you mean, ‘what you did?’” Twilight’s voice was full of confusion, and Sky reeled, wanting to vomit as the horror continued crashing over him in waves . But why shouldn’t he feel bad, after all? He should feel bad, he should feel awful–  

“I deserve this, I deserve to be cursed, I just– I didn’t realize it till now, but this– it’s my punishment, my atonement– for what I did to you all– I should have realized, why didn’t I realize–” 

“SKY!” Twilight grabbed him by the shoulders, shaking him in an attempt to break him out of his thoughts, but Sky was too far gone to be interrupted. There was no way he could conceal this anymore. It was threatening to burst out of him and there was nothing he could do to stop it. 

“I cursed you all,” he gasped before Twilight could say anything else, forehead pressing against the ground, nausea churning deep in his stomach. “I’m the reason Ganondorf exists, the reason you were all forced to be heroes when you should’ve been kids– it’s my fault, mine–” 

“Sky,” said Twilight hoarsely, rocking back on his heels in stunned silence. “What are– what are you saying?” 

Sky curled his fingers against the stone. “I’m saying that I fought Demise,” he whispered, tears dripping down his cheeks. “Evil incarnate. The reason that Hylia gave up her divinity and became mortal. The reason I was– the reason I was made. Chosen. Destined to defeat him before I was even born. But… but I failed.” 

“What do you mean?” Sky couldn’t see the rancher’s face, but he figured he could guess his expression based on the tone of his voice. 

Disgust. 

Anger. 

Horror. 

Just how he always assumed the chain would react if he ever told them. 

Too late now. 

“I failed,” Sky repeated, to himself as much as to Twilight. “I failed. I plunged the Master Sword deep in his chest and with his dying breath he laid a curse on Zelda’s descendants. On those who bore my spirit. On you. All of you. Dooming you to be reborn, again and again, along with a reincarnation of his malice. I– I couldn’t stop him. I failed. It’s my fault you all had to fight Ganondorf. It’s– it’s my fault you’re all broken.”  

Silence, save for the rush of water far below and the rustle of wind in the trees. Sky pressed his lips together, the taste of his own tears bitter on his tongue as he curled his arms tightly around his torso and rocked slowly back and forth. “I’m sorry,” he said faintly after a moment. How many times had he said those words in the past few days? How many times would he say them in future, now that they would all find out what he’d done? “I know it doesn’t compensate. I just– I’m sorry , I wish I could take it back– you don’t know how many times I’ve thought through it, tried to figure out what else I could have done, but no matter what I would have failed because it’s what I am, I’m a failure and I’m sorry–” 

“Who told you that?” 

The question, quiet and even-keeled, startled him. He had expected rage, fury, cold silence, disappointment. Perhaps even for Twilight to leave him alone, no longer caring if Sky carried through with his plan. 

He hadn’t expected this.

 “What?” Sky whispered. 

“Who told you that you were a failure? Who told you it was your fault Demise cursed us?” Twilight demanded, stronger than before. “Was it one of us? Did we know?” 

“No, I– I never told you all, I was too afraid that– that you’d reject me, chase me away, that you’d blame me because it was my fault–” Sky swallowed but was unable to dislodge the lump that had settled in his throat as he added weakly, “And… I told myself that I was a failure, that it was my fault, because it’s true.”

There was a scraping sound a few feet away as if Twilight was shifting, and then Sky felt the pressure of a hand resting between his shoulder blades. “Sky,” the rancher said, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re not a failure. And it wasn’t your fault. You defeated him, okay? You couldn’t have known he would lay a curse on you. That’s not something you or anyone could have stopped.” 

“But, but I–”

“No.” Twilight shook his head. “Whatever you’re about to say, don’t. It’s not true, Sky, okay? You’re the first of us. You’re a legend. And it wasn’t your fault. Have…have you really been blaming yourself, all this time? That’s such a weight to carry, all by yourself.”  

“I know it is,” Sky whispered, cold tears dripping off his face. “I, I’ve wanted to tell you all before, just so you would know that I’m not as weak as I seem, that I didn’t fight Ganondorf but I did fight the evil from which he came, but I– I was too scared of what you all would think. Of how you might drive me away. I was never close to you all the way you were to each other, I don’t think. I thought telling you something like that would shatter any warmth we had between us. So I…I just kept quiet.”

Twilight didn’t say anything, and after a long moment Sky gathered the courage to look up at him, afraid of what he would see. The rancher was kneeling beside him, head turned away and lips pressed tightly together, one hand tucked beneath his chin and a strange shimmer in his eyes. “Twi?” Sky whispered finally, terrified of his brother’s anger but even more afraid of his silence. “Say something?”

“You said you’re a failure, Sky.” Twilight’s voice was so heavy Sky flinched to hear his words. “But it’s us who failed you.” 

Sky stared at him. “What do you mean?” 

“From how you’ve been acting about losing us, I thought it must mean we had all been close before the cave, like a family. But what you’re saying now–” Twilight grimaced. “We weren’t. At least not to you.” 

He blinked, sending a tear down one freckled cheek before he questioned softly, “Why did you go into that cave, Sky? Was it because of us? Something we did? I’m not angry, I promise,” he hastened to add upon seeing Sky’s wilting expression. “I just want to know.”  

“I– I got left behind at a portal and Time…spoke to me,” Sky said haltingly after a moment. “I was already feeling low. Stupid. Like a burden to the rest of you. That just kind of topped it all off, so I went for a walk by myself while you all set up camp. And I found the cave, and…you know what happened.” He gave a feeble shrug. 

“So your curse is because of us.” 

“What? No! I didn’t say that, I–” 

“But it’s true.” The rancher drew a long breath, his hand trembling against Sky’s back as he tipped his head to look up at the stars. “You never would have found that cave if we had treated you the way you deserved, like one of us, because you are.” 

“Twi.” Sky reached one hand out to pat Twilight’s arm, bringing the rancher’s gaze down to him. “I don’t think it’s anyone’s fault. I got my feelings hurt; everyone does. It’s okay. It won’t help to dwell on it, right? Believe me, I know.” He swallowed. “Like I said, maybe this is my penance. Maybe I deserved it.” 

Twilight stared at him. 

“Maybe it was meant to happen,” Sky continued faintly, before Twilight’s hand clamped over his mouth.

The rancher leaned forward, his brows knitted in fierce concentration. “Sky. Stop talking like that.” 

Sky swallowed, more tears welling in his eyes as Twilight pulled his hand back and continued, “I already told you, it’s not your fault. I’m not angry with you, and none of the other Links will be either, okay? You did your best. You defeated the world’s greatest evil, but it’s not like you or any of us could have prevented him from cursing your spirit. That wasn’t your fault. What else could you have done, Sky?” Twilight chuckled a little, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Torn out his tongue? Smothered him? There was nothing you could do. I need you to repeat that for me. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Sky whispered, reaching for the rancher again without thinking. Twilight was quick to pull the chosen one back into his lap. 

“Say after me,” Twilight said gently after a moment, rocking Sky back and forth like a child. “‘There was nothing I could do.’” 

“There–” Sky’s voice hitched. He gulped down a fresh wave of tears. “There was nothing–” 

“Come on, Sky. I believe in you.” Twilight’s fingers combed through Sky’s hair. 

After a struggle Sky finally managed to choke, “There was nothing I could do,” even though he didn’t believe it. He couldn’t admit that to Twilight. 

But the rancher just nodded. “Good,” he murmured. “Now, repeat this too.” 

“There’s more? ”  

“Yes, there’s more.” Twilight’s chest rumbled against Sky’s back as he chuckled again. “Say it after me.‘ It wasn’t my fault.’” 

Sky was silent. 

“C’mon, Sky. You need to do this for yourself, okay?” 

“But–” Sky swallowed fiercely. “But, Twi, I’m scared. The past few years all I’ve been able to tell myself is that it was my fault, and I– I don’t know what would happen if– if I changed my mind.” 

“You don’t have to change your mind about it right now,” Twilight said softly. “You just need to let yourself hear it. It’s okay to let go, Sky.” 

“Okay,” Sky whispered after a moment. “I guess I can do that. Just say it, even if I don’t believe it.” 

“Go ahead. Whenever you’re ready.”

Sky squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, listening to the roar of water in the distance, to the rustle of wind in the leaves, to the low call of an owl nearby. Whenever you’re ready. He didn’t know if he’d ever be ready, but like Twilight had told him, maybe he just needed to hear it. Even if he didn’t think it was true. 

“It wasn’t–” 

He faltered, his mouth dry. Twilight’s hand rubbed soothingly between his shoulder blades, and for a moment Sky had a burst of courage, just enough to speak the words into the quiet. 

“It wasn’t my fault.” 

And oh. 

Oh. 

Because as soon as he forced out the phrase, there was a vision. A flash in his head. Himself as he was now, Hylia’s chosen hero, kneeling before a small boy with golden hair. The boy was crying, and Sky was speaking to him gently. Softly. “It wasn’t your fault,” he was saying, and the boy before him, a remnant of his past, smiled through his tears before whispering back, “It wasn’t yours, either.” 

It was only for a second, so fast he could barely catch the words. But Sky understood. All the shame, all the guilt he’d felt his whole life. The deaths of his parents, even though it wasn’t because of him. Zelda snatched away from him again and again in spite of all his efforts. All the death and destruction he’d seen. The curse laid upon his spirit by Demise. Ganondorf. The divide between him and the chain that he couldn’t break through, didn’t want to break through, because they couldn’t find out he cursed them. 

But Twilight knew now. The rest of them would too, soon enough. And it would be okay, because the words he’d spoken were true. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his curse. 

It wasn’t him. He wasn’t a failure. He had tried his best, and it was all he or anyone could have given. The curse wasn’t his to control, or to carry. It wasn’t his burden. 

Sky shut his eyes and tried to send a message to the boy with golden hair, even though that boy was long gone now. But he used to run through the meadows of Skyloft, Sky remembered with a tearful smile. He used to cannonball into the lake. He used to cuddle with his Loftwing for hours in the sunshine, hiding from Groose and sometimes from Zelda so she wouldn’t drag him off to do homework. He used to fall asleep in class and at lunch and during sparring drills. He used to cry softly at night over his dead parents, but sometimes he would laugh or smile, remembering them. 

He was gone now, replaced by the hero Sky had become. Left behind in the golden days of his childhood. But Sky could feel that boy still in his heart, gentle and kind. Without that boy, without his mistakes and his tears and his failure, he wouldn’t be who he was now. And in spite of that, in spite of all the pain that boy had gone through, Sky had tried to crush it all just now, to silence it forever in cold, dark water. 

But pain, Sky realized, made the good parts of life that much better. All the tears and the grief and the anguish— they only served to highlight the hope and the love and the joy. Joy that had been deprived from him for so long, because he had forgotten that no matter the pain, no matter the tears, there was always hope in the silence that followed. That small boy in the distant past had learned it after the death of his parents, and he had cherished it once he knew. He had sat up and allowed himself to smile one night after sobbing his heart out to the stars, and he had allowed himself to feel hope. 

Maybe Sky could learn a lesson from that boy, from himself, from that small child he had buried in his heart long ago. 

So he kept his eyes shut, and hoped the boy would hear his message, somewhere in the sweetness of the past. Somehow. 

I’m sorry, Link. I’m sorry if I blamed you. It was never your fault. I think you may be smarter than me. You learned how to look beyond, how to pull yourself out of the darkness and look around for the sun. I don’t know how to do that anymore, but maybe you can show me. Maybe you can show me what it is to be loved, even if I don’t feel it right now. 

Because that was the truth, wasn’t it? Sky tipped his head back towards the stars, allowing himself a trembling smile. You didn’t have to feel loved to be loved. Forgotten or not, people cared about him, just like they had after the death of his parents. He’d known nobody, been afraid of everything and everyone, and they, in turn, had hardly known him. And yet, in spite of it all, in spite of them being so foreign and terrifying, he had been loved, and eventually, he had felt safe. 

They didn’t remember him now, but the love was still there. The warmth of Twilight’s arms around him. The glow of the moon overhead. The fear in Zelda’s eyes earlier, because she’d been so afraid of hurting him. The steady strength with which Time had scooped Sky into his arms and carried him home. The softness of his Loftwing’s feathers against his torn hands. Even the quickness with which the chain had trusted Sky back when they first found him in the cave. The readiness with which they’d accepted him as one of their own, one by one. And– they hadn’t hated him before he found the cave. He was the one who had built the wall between them, keeping them out. Keeping them separated so neither he nor they would get hurt. But now, finally, that wall could come crashing down.  

The love had always been there, hadn’t it? Maybe he’d just been too blind to see it. Too broken-hearted. Maybe he’d just needed someone else to pull him out of the shadows so he could see there was sunlight ahead. 

For the first time in a long time, Sky felt the strangest of sensations clawing at his ribs, up his chest. Hope. A feeling so bright and joyful that he couldn’t resist the loud laugh that tore from his lungs and drifted upwards to the cold stars above. He twisted to throw his arms around Twilight, startling the rancher, but after a moment Twilight hugged him fiercely in return. 

“I want to go home,” Sky whispered into Twilight’s tunic after a moment. “I want to live.” 

And somehow, he knew it was real. It was true. He wasn’t just saying it– he believed it with all his heart.

Deep down, he knew that small, golden haired boy had heard it too. Sky could feel it— a warmth in his chest, like the feeling he got with his friends in the Lumpy Pumpkin, or while chatting with the chain around a fire. A feeling of family. A feeling of belonging. 

A feeling of love. 

“Attaboy, Sky,” Twilight laughed, helping Sky to his feet. Sky smiled through fresh tears and turned away from the darkness of the water below, water that in only a few hours would be drenched in sunlight. 

Twilight clasped one of Sky’s hands in his and squeezed it affectionately. “Come on, chosen one. Let’s get you home. ”

Chapter Text

Sky awoke to birdsong and sunlight streaming through the windows in his room, and the warmth of Warriors and Twilight pressed against either side of him. He yawned sleepily and stretched, burrowing further under the covers before staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. 

It had been four days since Twilight found him by the bridge, and since then the chain had taken turns sleeping in Sky’s room in pairs, both so he wouldn’t be alone and for their own peace of mind. When Sky and Twilight had returned that night, the rest of the chain had practically swarmed him, surrounding him with light and warmth and refusing to leave his side until he finally brought up the fact that it was nearly four in the morning and they should all get some sleep. 

Twilight, with Sky’s permission, had informed the chain the following day of everything Sky had told him, and their reactions, just like Twilight’s, had surprised him. He had been so caught up these past few months in panicking about what they would think, convinced they would shun and reject him, but they had reacted with nothing but sadness and concern. 

“You’ve been blaming yourself for our burdens?” Wind had asked tearfully, clinging to Sky’s leg. Wild had laid a silent hand on his arm and stayed there for a long while, and Four and Hyrule had nestled on either side of him, their heads on Sky’s shoulders. Legend had scoffed and left the room briefly, making Sky worry that perhaps he was angry with him, but when the veteran returned, he confessed that he was actually angry with himself. 

“I know what it’s like to carry blame for something that’s not really your fault,” he had said quietly, making Sky wonder if he perhaps was referring to the island that often showed up in Legend’s nightmares. “And for you to have been that worried about us treating you differently, or shunning you– it’s not right. It’s unforgivable.” 

“Nothing is unforgivable,” Sky told him gently, and the veteran had fallen quiet. 

“I’m not sure I agree with that,” he had said thickly after a moment, fingers twisting together as a vacant look entered his eyes. “But maybe you’re right.” 

“It wasn’t your fault anyway,” Sky had added, addressing the whole chain this time. “I’m the one who put up a wall between us so none of us would get hurt, but I– I was wrong. And all of us ended up hurting.” 

“I think the best approach to this isn’t to focus on what everyone did or didn’t do,” the captain had pointed out. “We’re making amends, aren’t we? That’s what’s important.”

Sky let out a sigh, letting his eyes fall shut again as he waited for the others to wake up. They had made him take things easy for the past few days, and the rest was nice, but he was getting a little tired of the constant bandage changes and cleaning of his wounds and the potions Hyrule made him drink multiple times a day. He knew it was all necessary, but he was getting fidgety stuck in bed. He wanted to do something, though he wasn’t sure what exactly that might be.    

Sky opened his eyes at the sound of the door opening, pushing himself up on his elbows and blinking as Four stepped into the room. “Good morning,” the smith greeted him cheerfully, grunting as he maneuvered a tray laden with plates of food through the doorway. “How are you feeling?” 

“Better,” Sky answered, tilting his head as Four struggled with the tray. “What’s all that?” 

Four grimaced, giving the tray a condescending look. “It’s supposed to be breakfast.” He cleared his throat, casting a critical glance at the two sleeping figures on the bed before whispering, “Wind and Roolie wanted to cook something.” 

“Ah,” Sky said with an amused look. “Well, it’s food, at least.” 

“I’m not sure it can really be called that, but whatever,” Four muttered, then grinned. “I’ll make sure Wild cooks lunch, though. I dunno if I can survive on more of this.” He gestured to the plates of food, then wrinkled his brow. “Why are those two still asleep, anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever seen them sleep this late.” 

Sky shrugged and glanced at the sleeping figures on either side of him, mouth twitching as an ear-shattering snore drifted from Warriors. “We stayed up talking last night, is all.”

“Hm, well.” A wicked expression crossed Four’s face, and he crept forward to Warriors’ side of the bed before leaping directly on top of him. The captain shrieked in a most undignified manner, flailing wildly in his blankets before he tumbled off the bed with a loud thump, dragging the smith to the floor with him.  

“You!” Warriors scowled at Four, rubbing sleep from his eyes with his hair sticking out in every direction. “Hylia, can’t a man get some rest for once?” 

To Sky’s right, Twilight mumbled something about cheese and burrowed further beneath his blanket. Sky coughed into his fist to hide his amusement before he glanced down at Warriors and asked slyly, “So, were you aware that you snore?” 

The captain’s jaw dropped open. “Slanderous lies,” he sputtered indignantly, disentangling himself from his blanket and getting to his feet. He folded his arms over his chest, nose in the air as he added stubbornly, “I’ve never snored in my life.” 

“Hurgenburker,” muttered Twilight darkly in his sleep. 

“Well, I haven’t!” Warriors insisted, glaring at the rancher as if Twilight had been arguing with him. 

“If you say so.” Sky swung his legs out of bed, wincing a little at the movement. “So…what exactly is on the menu this morning, Four?” 

The smith made a face. “Supposedly pancakes and fried mushrooms. Supposedly. But don’t hold me to that. Oh, and I almost forgot–” He turned and lifted one of the plates from the tray, grimacing as he held it out. The plate contained a pile of black lumps that Sky only realized were meant to be cookies after careful speculation. “Um. Zelda went up to Skyloft earlier, but she left these…cookies…for you.” 

Sky stared at the cookies with wide eyes for a minute before snickering a little. Hylia reborn she might be, but Zelda had never been good at baking. “Good to know, thanks.” He smiled a little in relief. Zelda had been avoiding him for the past few days, aside from poking her head into his room to ask how he was doing, so he was glad to see she wasn’t upset. His guess was that she was still afraid of hurting him, or that she would accidentally make him go off the deep end again, even though he’d tried to apologize for his erratic behavior a couple of days ago.

Warriors draped his blanket over his shoulders and inspected the plates of food for a moment. “Yeah, I’m not eating that. What are you trying to do, poison us?” He scowled, carding a hand through his hair and rumpling it even further. “I’m gonna go see if they’ve got any other food around here. There’s gotta be something.” He paused at the door, glancing over his shoulder at Sky. “Don’t eat any of that, okay? I’ll bring back something that’s actually digestible.” 

“Okay,” Sky said with a chuckle as Warriors swept out of the room, leaving him alone with Four and a still-sleeping Twilight. 

“He’s probably right,” Four said, glancing dubiously at the food he’d brought and tucking a hand below his chin in thought. “I just hope he doesn’t take too long, because–” He grinned, eyes suddenly sparkling. “You’ve got some visitors coming.” 

“Visitors?” Sky blinked, full of curiosity. “Who?” 

“Oh, you’ll see soon enough,” Four answered mysteriously. “They should be coming in the next hour or so. Actually, you may want to get dressed.” 

“Really? In actual clothes?” Sky brightened; he was getting sick of sitting around in the same pair of pants. 

“Yes, but obviously don’t put on any chainmail or anything,” Four cautioned. “A shirt and pants should be okay, though. You have clean ones, right?” 

Sky nodded. He always kept a supply of his favorite Skyloft-crafted shirts in his pack, along with some extra trousers. His usual clothes still weren’t fit to be worn, as no one had taken the time yet to clean out all the caked-in blood and dirt, so his spare outfits would have to do. 

“Well, go ahead and get dressed, and then you should probably wake the lump over there up,” Four said, gesturing vaguely to Twilight. “I’ll go help Wars look for some edible food.” 

“All right.” Sky waited till the smith was gone, then knelt by his pack and dug through it. He pulled out an embroidered cotton shirt and dark brown trousers and dressed carefully, doing his best not to disturb the bandages still wrapped around his torso. He tried to decipher who the unknown visitors might be– surely not Zelda, as Four had said she was up on Skyloft. Groose, maybe? But why, if he didn’t remember who Sky was either? 

“Sky?” Twilight’s bleary voice jolted Sky from his thoughts. “What time is it?” 

Sky turned back towards the rancher, who was sitting up in bed and yawning fiercely as he rubbed his eyes. “Almost eleven, I think.” 

“Eleven!” Twilight yelped, springing out of bed. “Hylia, I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept so late.” 

“I think you deserve it, Twi,” Sky said with a chuckle. “Though I have to tell you, you were saying some pretty weird things in your sleep.”

“I was?” Twilight looked aghast as he tugged on his boots. “Like what?” 

“Like– you kept talking about cheese.” 

“Cheese, huh,” Twilight mumbled distantly, looking lost in thought. “I think I remember having a dream about it.” He glanced at the tray of food sitting near the door. “Oh, sweet Triforce, someone brought breakfast. I’m starving.” 

“I wouldn’t eat that if I were you,” Sky warned. “Apparently it’s the creation of Wind and Roolie.”

Twilight shrugged, poking at one of the plates with interest before picking up what Sky could only assume was meant to be a pancake. “Eh, I’ve eaten worse. After living as a wolf I think my digestive system can handle anything.” He bit into the pancake before shuffling to the half-open door and peering out into the hall. “Where is everyone?” 

“Dunno. Four and Warriors went to scout out some better food choices, and I haven’t seen anyone else this morning.” Sky beamed, wanting to twirl with excitement but refraining. “By the way, Four said I’m going to have visitors. I have no idea who, but I can’t wait.” 

“Visitors, eh?” The rancher looked thoughtful. “That’s exciting. I haven’t heard anything about that, or else I’d tell you more, sorry.” 

“No worries.” Sky sighed, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and swinging his legs in silence for a few minutes before he said hesitantly, “You know, it’s weird. I feel– happy.” 

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Twilight smiled, finishing the last of his pancake and dusting off his hands before he took a seat beside Sky. “You’ve been through a lot, kid. I think you deserve a break more than anyone.”

“I guess. It’s just… I’m afraid. Like… if I’m too happy, everything will just get worse.” Sky was silent for a moment, staring down at his hands. “I’m afraid to do anything, as if this is all just a dream and I’ll wake up at the bottom of–” 

His throat tightened, and he trailed into silence, unable to finish the sentence. The dark thoughts that had driven him to the bridge hadn’t reappeared since Twilight brought him back that night, and Sky hoped they never would again, but the fear of it was still eating away at him. He was happy, but he was afraid to move, as if one wrong step would shatter that happiness forever. 

“I’m just afraid,” he whispered again, head hanging low. “That I don’t deserve to be happy, or that one little thing will ruin it all, or– something like that.”  

He felt the warmth of Twilight’s hand pressing against his shoulder. “That’s all that is, Sky. Fear. It doesn’t mean anything, and it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. That’s just your brain being the most unhelpful it can be, okay? But we’re here now, and we’ll always be here for you, no matter how bad it gets.” He pulled Sky into a gentle hug. “You may be dealing with a curse that we can’t solve at the moment, but that doesn’t mean you’re not worthy of happiness, you hear me?” 

Sky chuckled into his collar, already feeling a little better. “Yeah. Thanks, Twi.” 

“Anytime you have thoughts like that, you tell one of us.” The rancher’s voice was serious as he pulled back and looked Sky in the eyes. “Everyone struggles with fear, Sky. There’s no reason to do it alone.”

Sky nodded. “I know. I need to open up more, but it’s hard. I’ve been so used to keeping everything inside.” He exhaled a little. “On my journey I had Fi, and I told her everything, asked her a thousand questions. Before that I had Zelda, although–” His ears reddened a little. “–I admit it took me a few years to tell her some things, but I was pretty open about everything else. But for the past few months I’ve gotten accustomed to dealing with everything myself, so it’s weird telling people stuff, I guess.” 

“Well, that’s what we’re here for if ever you need it.” Twilight ruffled Sky’s hair affectionately. “You’ve gone through so much by yourself, but you don’t have to anymore. And hey, you literally almost died after that fight, but here you are getting over mortal injuries and pushing through your curse! You’re doing great, kid. Don’t let your brain tell you otherwise.”

Sky smiled and bumped his head against the rancher’s, feeling his heart turn warm from Twilight’s words. They sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes until Four and Warriors returned, bringing with them some fruit, bread, and cheese they’d scavenged from the kitchen. 

“You’re finally up, are you?” Four goaded, smirking at Twilight as he set down the food he was carrying. “Took you long enough.” 

“Hey, I was tired,” Twilight retorted grouchily, reaching for a piece of cheese. “Besides, I think that’s the only time in my life I’ve slept that late. Back before my quest, I was–” 

“Ugh, spare us,” groaned Warriors, sprawling across the bed and rolling his eyes dramatically back in his head. “You were a goat herder; we know. You’ve gotten up at the crack of dawn every morning since infancy; we know! For Hylia’s sake, you don’t need to tell us five billion times a day! ”

Twilight scoffed, blowing his bangs out of his eyes. “As if you can say anything! You’re always bringing up that time you missed out on your beauty sleep for three days when you were training as a soldier; I think we all have it memorized by now.” 

Warriors waved a piece of bread at him in irritation. “Hey, I need my beauty sleep, and for your information–” 

Sky ate a piece of fruit and listened to them bicker, a smile spreading over his face. This felt warm, familiar. He had sat with the chain and listened to them argue about stupid things countless times in the past, sometimes joining in on the argument, though they had rarely ever been more than ridiculous spats that usually ended with one or more of the participants in fits of laughter. It felt good to be in such familiar territory again, watching them squabble as if nothing had changed. 

There was a rap on the door just then, and Warriors and Twilight fell silent, choosing to forget their spat. “Come in!” Sky called a bit absentmindedly as he finished eating, glancing towards the doorway.  

“Good morning, boys.” Time poked his head around the door, his gaze falling on Sky. “Four said you’re feeling better and that he told you about the visitors. Are you ready for them yet?” 

“I think so,” Sky answered, settling into a cross-legged position on the bed. “I’m dying to know who they are, but I’ll admit I’m also a bit nervous.” 

Time smiled a little. “Well, you shouldn’t be. We think they might’ve been your friends…before.” 

Sky blinked as the old man, Four, Warriors, and Twilight ducked out of the room, feeling freshly baffled by Time’s words. They did nothing to settle his confusion– he’d had plenty of friends before the curse. It could be quite literally anyone on Skyloft, for Hylia’s sake. Or even some of his friends on the Surface, like the Kikwis or Gorko or– 

The door swung open again, and Pipit and Karane stepped into the room, shattering any of his expectations.  

Sky stared at them in astonishment, his mouth gaping open like a fish, and they stared back with curious expressions. Sky noticed vaguely that for once they were both dressed in normal Skyloftian clothing instead of their signature yellow and green tunics.  

“Hello,” Pipit finally said after the silence had become uncomfortable, his mouth twitching into a hesitant smile. 

“Hello,” Sky echoed, breaking free of his initial surprise and feeling unexpected emotion fill his chest upon seeing them. He hadn’t realized till now how much he had missed them, too. “What are you guys doing here?” 

Pipit and Karane traded a glance before Pipit said, “Well, I think pretty much all of Skyloft and the surface has heard about the nine travelers who showed up recently. A few of us did some digging and learned about…specifics.” 

“Ah.” Sky cleared his throat. “You know about the curse, then?” 

“Yeah, Zel told us. She also said you had asked about us and seemed to be familiar with us, so…” Karane shrugged a little. “We figured we must have been somewhat close to you, but we could be wrong. Either way, we wanted to visit.” 

“No, you’re not wrong,” Sky answered softly. “You and Pipit were two of my closest friends.” He hesitated a little before adding, “And actually, I technically helped you get together.” 

“You did?” Karane looked startled, and Pipit turned a shade of red that matched Crimson’s feathers. “How?” 

“Oh, Cawlin gave me a love letter to give to Karane, and I may or may not have mentioned it to Pipit before I delivered the letter,” Sky said innocently. “I mean, everyone on Skyloft had been waiting for something to happen between you two, so I thought I could help speed things along.” 

“I remember being given a letter,” Karane said slowly, “just not by who.” She frowned. “And I remember Pipit coming in and stopping Cawlin from asking me out. But…everything else is kind of hazy.” 

“Same for me,” Pipit added with a frown, scratching his nose and blushing even deeper. “But… thank you, I guess, if it really was you. Otherwise I dunno if either of us would have gotten up the courage to say anything.” 

“Oh, I dropped plenty of hints, thank you very much,” Karane said, scowling and jabbing Pipit in the ribs with one finger. “You were just too dense to pick up on them, you birdbrain.” 

Pipit snorted in disbelief, his eyebrows shooting up on his forehead. “Oh, really? What kind of hints? Because–” 

Karane huffed, interrupting him with an impatient shake of her head. “We can talk about this later, ‘kay? We have something else to discuss with him at the moment.” 

“Something else?” Sky said nervously. So this isn’t just a friendly visit? 

Karane saw his expression drop and was quick to assure him, “It’s nothing bad, I promise. We just–” She paused. “Well, I’ll be honest. We’ve known about your condition for several days now, and the two of us– and Zel– have been discussing whether or not you should visit Skyloft.” 

Sky’s heart skipped a beat, and he sucked in a breath, staring at his two friends with wide eyes. “Visit Skyloft?” he whispered hoarsely after a few moments. “Can I?” 

“Of course you can.” Pipit pursed his lips, trading a glance with Karane. “Now that you’ve…recovered some. But you’ll still have to take it easy.”

“Of course,” Sky fumbled, excitement already coursing through his veins. He hadn’t even considered that visiting Skyloft would be possible while he was here, not with all that had happened. But now that it had been suggested, he could think of nothing else. “When can I go? Today?” 

“Yeah, if you want to. Do you feel up for it?” 

“Yes!” Sky tripped over his own feet as he bounded to the floor, searching for his boots. “Can we go now? Do you think I can ride my Loftwing? Can Zel–” 

Karane laughed, holding up a hand to stop the questions beginning to pour from Sky’s mouth. “We may have to wait a bit, but yes, you can ride your Loftwing so long as there’s someone sitting behind you to make sure you don’t fall off. You’re still recovering, so we don’t want you overexerting yourself.” 

“Also, we thought maybe your…group…” Pipit hesitated, brows furrowing as if he were debating whether that was the right word to use. After a moment he continued regardless, “We thought they’d want to see it too, so a bunch of us have offered to take you all up on our Loftwings.” 

“That would be amazing,” Sky gasped. “Do they know about it?” 

“I think a few of them were going to spread the word to the others.” Karane beamed. “Are you excited?” 

“Of course I am,” Sky spluttered, already making plans for what he wanted to do. He could treat the chain to authentic pumpkin soup, and show Twilight the remlits and Loftwing nests, and introduce Four to Gondo, and show them all the chamber beneath the goddess statue, and– 

“Sky?” Karane was speaking again, her tone softer than before. “Or…Link, since Zel said that’s your name too. I know we don’t remember you, but–” She glanced at Pipit, who nodded in agreement, his freckled face breaking into a smile. “I think I’m speaking for us both when I say it’s nice to be your friends again. It feels somehow like I’ve known you my whole life, even though I technically just met you today.” She chuckled.

Sky beamed, his heart warming at her words. “Well, for me, we didn’t just meet today, and I have known you almost my whole life. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you guys.” 

Pipit gave him a slap on the shoulder, light enough that it wouldn’t aggravate any of Sky’s still-healing wounds. Quietly he replied, “Y’know, buddy, something tells me that we missed you too.”

<><><>

While plans were being made for the chain to visit Skyloft, Zelda was already snooping around on the floating island, trying to find some answers in the Knight Academy she had attended since childhood. Sky’s words to her a few days ago about his room there– the one at the foot of the stairs that she had presumed to be empty– had bothered her ever since, and she had finally decided to settle things by seeing for herself. 

The academy should technically be vacant right now, but just as a precaution Zelda made sure the lower level was bare of people before she snuck into her father’s study and found the key for the empty room. In all honesty, when she tried to picture that room in her head, her memory got a bit fuzzy. She had just assumed it was empty, because that’s what her remembrance of it told her, but at the same time it was all somewhat unclear, like her mind had been wiped blank. Being out of control of her own memory scared her, and she hoped that snooping in the room might help her remember, but she couldn’t be sure. 

She unlocked the door quietly and pushed it open, flinching when it creaked loudly on its hinges. After a few moments had passed and no one came to investigate, she pocketed the key and slipped through the opening before pushing the door shut again. She wasn’t really sure why she was being so secretive– she was Hylia reborn, after all. She doubted she would get in trouble for breaking into a room that was supposed to be empty. 

Zelda let a soft laugh escape her at her own foolishness, then halted in her tracks as she looked up and saw the interior of the room. She was wrong– the room wasn’t empty. Instead, it was fully furnished and decorated in personal items– shriveled plants in colorfully painted flowerpots; a bookcase with its shelves containing papers and books and a few wooden carvings like the ones in her own room; carving tools and old shavings; boxes and notebooks; and an open journal on a desk. 

Zelda surveyed the room in wonder, even bending over the open book to see a name written at the top in faded black ink– Link. “So he was telling the truth,” she whispered in fascination, sinking into the wooden desk chair and staring down at the journal. “This really is his room.”

A memory stirred in her mind– his story of the carving he tried making of the two of them, shoved into the bottom of his wardrobe. She stood quickly and made her way back to the door and the wardrobe beside it, reaching to pull the doors open in spite of her private misgivings about going through people’s personal belongings. I’m already in his room, she reminded herself with a roll of her eyes. It won’t be much different to look through his wardrobe. 

As she tugged the doors open, another memory flashed through her head– herself, leaning towards a shadowy figure and saying in a scolding tone,  “You really shouldn’t open other people’s cupboards without permission.” She wasn’t sure who she had been talking to, but what did it matter now? 

She shook herself back into the present, eyes widening as she took in the contents of the wardrobe. Shirts and pants, old boots, knitted scarves that looked suspiciously like she had made them, a cloth pennant, a few more piles of books, a box of memorabilia, and–

She reached out and caught hold of something in the darkest corner of the wardrobe– something wooden, from the feel of it. She tugged at it till it came loose, then held it out into the light to see it better. 

A gasp escaped her– it was a carving of a boy and a girl, just like Sky had said. Upon closer inspection she saw that the girl had a strong resemblance to herself, and the boy had the same fluffy hair and sleepy eyes that Sky himself possessed. He had told her this carving was awful, but it was full of so much detail, so much love, that she wondered what his idea of a good carving looked like.

After a moment she gently set the carving aside and reached for the box of memorabilia, rifling carefully through it. It was mainly old school certificates and medals, most of them for sparring class, but at the very bottom she found a stack of miniature drawings. A baby Loftwing, someone’s scarf dangling from its short beak. Zelda as a child, hugging a little boy with fluffy hair and bright eyes. Gaepora, swinging her by one hand and the boy by the other as the two children shared a grin. Karane and Pipit, much younger than they were now, squabbling but with mutual blushes on their cheeks. The Pumpkin Festival, with Groose and Cawlin roughhousing in the background for one of the games. Instructor Horwell teaching at the blackboard in the academy classroom, a handful of students seated at their desks behind him. Zelda and the fluffy-haired boy once again, giggling as they sparred with wooden swords on the roof of the Academy. 

Zelda’s eyes welled with tears as she flipped slowly through the drawings, brushing her fingers over some of the long-lost faces and events of her childhood. Had Sky drawn these? He hadn’t said anything about being an artist, but she should have guessed from the level of detail in the carving she had just looked at. She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of one hand. She could only imagine that the boy in the pictures was Sky himself, and that he must have secretly taken time in the past to create art of moments he found memorable. She was glad he had, because now at least she had some memories of him to hold onto, even if they weren’t really hers. 

But somehow that made them more special, because these memories she held now in her hands were his. These pictures were how he had seen life, and he had recorded it as best as he could, though the fact they had been shoved in a box at the back of his wardrobe suggested he hadn’t planned to ever show them to anyone. Maybe she was wrong to look at them, or maybe– 

Maybe this was just another step to remembering who he was: looking through his memories, uncovering all the little things that were part of him, viewing things the way he did. 

She might not remember him now, but she knew then that she wouldn’t mind spending the rest of her life figuring him out. 

Chapter Text

“You doing all right back there, Captain?” 

Sky glanced over his shoulder at Warriors, squinting against the wind that whipped into his face as Crimson lifted out of Faron Woods in the direction of Skyloft. The captain glowered at him in reply before tightening his hold around the chosen hero’s torso and answering irritably, “I think I’d be doing much better if I weren’t sitting on your stupid overgrown cucco.” 

Crimson squawked and swiveled his head to give Warriors a dirty look, prompting a giggle from Sky. “Don’t be such a wet blanket,” he told the captain cheerfully, adjusting his grip on Crimson’s harness and leaning more fully into the wind before adding, “Word of advice, though– you might actually enjoy this if you relax some, you know?” 

“Oh, shut up,” Warriors grumbled, hunching miserably forward. “There’s nothing enjoyable about this. For one thing, I could plummet to my death at any moment, and for another, all this stupid wind is messing up my hair.” 

“Ah, I failed to consider that your hair would get mussed,” Sky said solemnly, though his mouth twitched in amusement. “It’s a real shame, though. You’ll scare everyone away when we land.” 

Warriors scoffed behind him, his eyeroll nearly visible in his voice as he snorted, “You’re just full of helpful remarks right now, aren’t you?” 

“Oh, I’ve always been full of helpful remarks,” Sky retorted smugly, though his voice went quieter when he added as an afterthought, “Just… not lately.”

Behind him the captain was silent for a moment, and then Sky felt his arms squeeze gently around his torso. “I’m sorry, kid,” Warriors said softly. 

A lump rose in Sky’s throat, along with the bitter tang of tears. Quickly he changed the subject before he could lose it completely, fingers white-knuckled on Crimson’s harness. “At least I get to show you guys Skyloft. I’ve always wanted to; I’m not sure some of you ever fully believed that I lived on a floating island.” 

Warriors didn’t reply for a moment, and Sky frowned, twisting slightly to look at him. “Wars?”

“Oh, sorry. I was just thinking— but, well, I can’t honestly remember. I might as well ask—” The captain hesitated, brows furrowing before he finished slowly, “Did I ever tell you that I’ve been to Skyloft? Before the curse, I mean.”

Sky would’ve fallen off of Crimson if Warriors hadn’t been hanging on to him. “You’ve what?”

“Yeah,” Warriors went on uncertainly. “Years ago, during my… quest. If it can be called that. It was more of a war than a true quest, really. But…yeah. I kept hearing mentions of Skyloft when we first got here, and it only clicked a few days ago that I had actually been there myself. Dunno how I forgot about it. I don’t think it was because of your curse though, cause I didn’t even know you existed at the time, so there’s no way I could’ve associated it with you.” 

“That’s…pretty crazy to think you’ve actually been there.” Sky was quiet for a moment, mulling over Warrior’s words before finally he asked, “What did you think of it?” 

The captain shrugged. “I was in battle most of the time, so I don’t remember too much. I do remember thinking it was pretty, though. And unique. It had a lot of personality from the little I can recall.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Sky said fondly. “The people of Skyloft are unusual, probably, but like you said, they– and the island itself– are full of personality.” 

“Not including you, right?” Warriors teased.  

“Ha, ha,” Sky said dryly. “I’ll have you know that even before my quest I was known as quite a menace. I have plenty of personality, thanks very much.”

“Really.” The captain’s voice was tinged with amusement and a bit of skepticism. “A menace, huh? What does that mean, precisely?” 

Sky snorted. “Exactly what it sounds like. I had a reputation for…mischief, shall we say. Rigging buckets of water over people’s doors, leaving weird messages on the classroom chalkboard, putting wind cushions on people’s— mostly Groose’s— chairs. Stuff like that.” 

Warriors whistled, apparently still surprised by the revelation. “Wow. You really don’t seem the type. If you were more like me or Wind I could see it, I guess, but you seem too…”

“Too what? Innocent? Oh, please. You should be able to tell I’m a menace just by looking at my face.” Sky gestured dramatically to the mentioned feature. 

“Ah, naturally. Can’t believe I overlooked that,” Warriors said sarcastically. 

“Oh, shut up.”  

“Only if you stop moving around so much,” the captain retorted. “Stay still, for Hylia’s sake; you block the wind.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sky said wickedly. “Are you saying you want me to do this?” He leaned forward and flattened himself almost completely against Crimson, resulting in Warriors being slammed with a gust of wind that blew his hair into strange tufts. “Is that what you meant?” Sky asked innocently, sitting up straight again. 

“No, it is not, you idiot,” Warriors scowled, smacking Sky’s arm and making the Skyloftian chuckle. “Thanks for completely ruining any remaining chance my hair had of looking decent.”  

Sky chuckled, glancing below his feet and then up above his head to judge how far they had come already. They were getting closer to the cloud barrier between Skyloft and the surface, which meant it wouldn’t be too long before he would be home. He smiled at the thought. 

A few beats of silence went by before the captain ventured quietly, “Did we know you liked pranks? Before?” 

Sky nodded at the question, a slight pang echoing in his chest. “Yeah. In the beginning after we all met I played a lot of pranks on you guys. Sometimes you all joined in and we teamed up against someone else, or against multiple people, but… towards the end— I mean, before the cave— it kind of stopped, I guess—” 

“Oh.” Warriors didn’t say anything for a minute. Finally he prodded, hesitant as if he was afraid of crushing Sky’s feelings further, “Did we just…stop talking to you much, or something? I just— I can’t remember, and it’s been bothering me a bit, so I—”

“Ah.” Sky cleared his throat. “Yeah, that was…basically it. I was still included, but it felt like it was because you all had to, and not because you wanted to. But — for a few weeks before the cave you guys had been talking about Ganondorf, and about saving Zelda, and… I couldn’t really talk about what I did without giving away that I cursed you all–”

“Sky—” Warriors began. 

Sky drew a deep breath. Not blaming himself for the curse was something he would have to work on. “I mean,” he amended slowly after a moment, “that’s what I thought at the time. So I started retreating into myself, and not talking about things, and I guess you all thought I just needed space. So you gave it to me, and— that made it worse, I guess. Being alone with my thoughts. But I didn’t want to hurt you all by revealing what I knew, and I didn’t want to be hurt either, so I blocked you all off. It’s no one’s fault, really. Just a lot of misunderstanding.”

“Still, that’s—” 

Crimson squawked just then, making both of them jolt— they were flying into the cloud barrier. Shrouds of wet mist curled around them, soaking into their hair and clothes, and Warriors muttered something about stupid water, hunching into himself as much as he possibly could. Sky, for his part, closed his eyes and spread his arms wide, embracing the feel of the mist on his skin. How long had it been since he had felt this? The warmth of Crimson below him, the coldness of the wind and clouds around him, the feeling of paper-thin air in his lungs— 

Sky sucked in a breath as they burst out of the clouds into a stream of sunlight. There, up ahead, so close it felt like he could almost reach out and touch it— 

“Skyloft,” he whispered. 

The captain shifted behind him to see better, one hand pressing against Sky’s shoulder in a gesture of support. “You’re almost home, Sky,” he said quietly, and those mere words brought the sting of tears to the chosen one’s eyes. 

Home. 

He was almost home. 

How could there be so much hope and love and fear and happiness, bundled up into just one word? He wasn’t exactly sure, but he didn’t really care right now. In mere moments he would be back in the place of his birth, the place of his upbringing, the place where most of his favorite memories had been made. The place that, though he hadn’t realized till he saw it just now, had torn a hole in his heart with its absence. 

Sky sniffled, wiping his eyes vigorously with one sleeve and then letting loose a stuffy laugh as Crimson turned his head and cooed at him as if to say, See, my boy? I brought you back.

“Good bird,” Sky whispered, ruffling the fur and feathers on the top of Crimson’s head and feeling an indescribable joy spring up within him as Skyloft grew larger before them. “You’re right, you’ve brought me home.” 

He glanced around and saw a small group of Loftwings flying out of the clouds behind them, each rider carrying a member of the chain on their Loftwing. Soon his family, old and new, would all be together, and he would be home . 

He couldn’t wait. 

They touched down on Skyloft a few minutes later, and Sky could hardly contain his giddiness as he slid down to the ground and ran to the edge of the plaza, near the river. He came to a halt and stood still for a moment, taking everything in— sweet, green grass; hundreds of flowers waving in a gentle breeze; white clouds scudding through the cerulean sky; butterflies and bees buzzing to and fro; the distant call of Loftwings— 

“I’m back,” Sky whispered, dropping into a crouch and touching the ground with one trembling hand as if to greet it. “It’s me, Link. I’m home.” 

He heard the rustle of boots in the grass behind him and turned to see Warriors standing there. The captain watched him with a soft smile, head tipped to one side. “How’s it feel?” he asked gently. “To be back.”

“It feels—” Sky’s eyes welled with tears, and he rocked back on his heels, taking a deep breath. “Amazing.”

“Glad to hear that, chosen one.” Warriors glanced over his shoulder as other Loftwings began touching down in the plaza, their riders and the rest of the chain clambering off them to the ground. “So, is our resident Skyloft expert going to give us the grand tour now, or what?” He glanced back at Sky, a warm smile on his face as he offered a hand to the chosen one. 

Sky grinned in return and clasped his brother’s hand firmly, joints cracking as Warriors hauled him to his feet again. “But of course,” he answered, following the captain towards the others. “Unless you’d like to do the honors?” 

“I’m afraid that’s a job entirely up to you, kid,” Warriors answered gravely, though his face dissolved into a smile as he clapped Sky gently on the back. “But you’d better include some good food as part of this tour. I’m starving.” 

Sky’s own stomach rumbled adamantly just then, and he and the captain dissolved into snorts of laughter. “Probably not necessary to tell you now, but food is a given,” Sky laughed as they reached the rest of the chain. He looked around at each of his brothers in turn, a wide smile beaming over his face as excitement flooded him from head to toe.

“Now, shall we begin?” 

~~~

Nearly two hours later, the chain had been over the entirety of Skyloft, with various shenanigans sprinkled throughout each location. During their visit to the waterfall, for instance, Wild shoved Twilight into the lake and started an impromptu water fight that lasted for nearly thirty minutes. At the academy, Wind and Legend slid down the banister around forty times, Twilight tried kidnapping one of the Remlits (“I’m only borrowing her,” he insisted), and Warriors drew a collection of strange images on the blackboard, which Time quickly erased. 

Eventually the chain split up. Sky had told them to meet him in the plaza in an hour so they could fly to the Lumpy Pumpkin for lunch, and the Links had then scattered. Wild, Four, and Hyrule had gone back to the bazaar– Wild to discuss soup recipes with Piper, Four to continue a discussion with Gondo about metallurgy, and Hyrule to talk with Luv about her potions. Time returned to the academy to talk with Gaepora; Warriors disappeared into the Sparring Hall; Wind and Legend ran to join some Skyloftian kids playing tag; and Twilight snuck off to play with a group of Remlits. 

Sky, meanwhile, stumbled to one of the benches outside the bazaar and collapsed onto it, letting out a shaky breath and wiping sweat from his forehead. He hadn’t wanted to admit it to the others, but he was beginning to feel a little unwell. He was still recovering from his injuries, of course, as well as the repeated traumas he’d gone through in just the past few weeks, but it still irritated him to have lost his energy so quickly. 

“Hey there,” a familiar voice said from his left after a few minutes, and Sky whipped his head around to see Zelda coming to a halt beside the bench, watching him with a small smile.  

“Oh. Hey,” he answered a bit hoarsely, flushing at her sudden appearance and scrambling to his feet. The abrupt movement made all the blood rush from his head, and he swayed, suddenly dizzy. 

Zelda’s neutral expression shifted to one of concern, and she stepped forward, reaching as if to grab his arm before thinking better of it and instead asking, “Are you all right?” 

Sky nodded, sinking back onto the bench with a sigh. “I’m not as recovered as I thought I was, I guess. We’ve only been up here two hours, but all the walking must’ve gotten to me.” 

“Stay there,” Zelda ordered, and before he could say anything she had whirled around and disappeared into the bazaar. She returned a few moments later, carrying a stamina potion in one hand. “This should help,” she told him, taking a seat beside him on the bench and offering the bottle to him. “But you shouldn’t overexert yourself again for a while. Maybe we can get you up to the academy to rest in your room for a little while; it seemed quiet enough when I was there earlier.” 

Sky half-choked on the stamina potion, eyes widening as he looked over at her. “Wait. Have you–” 

“Oh,” Zelda interrupted, seeming to understand what he had been about to say. “Yes, I’ve been in your room. I…I was curious. I wanted to see if you were telling the truth the other day, and you were.” 

“I see.” Sky’s face flushed. He wondered what exactly she’d seen in there. Of course, pre-curse Zelda had known everything about him, and that included everything in his room, too. But somehow, having her see it all over again after she’d forgotten about it was… embarrassing. All his carvings, his (probably dead, but that wasn’t anything new) plants, the little plushes she’d knitted for him, the boots with holes in the toes, all his school assignments shoved into a box somewhere—

“I looked in your wardrobe.”

“Oh, Triforce,” Sky groaned. Of all the places to look, that was likely the worst. “It was probably a mess, wasn’t it?”

Zelda’s lips twitched. “...Just a bit. I, um, I found that carving you mentioned, though. The one of…us?” She faltered a little, the tips of her ears turning red. “I– I was trying to find it, but anyway– um, you said it was awful.” 

“Well, it is,” Sky answered, a bit confused since he already knew that. 

“No, it isn’t!” Zelda shot back indignantly, startling him. “I thought it was incredible. It must have taken you a lot of effort, I could tell. And you put so much detail into it!”

“I, uh, I guess.” Sky rubbed the back of his neck, heat rising in his cheeks at the praise over a carving he didn’t think was worthy of it. Then again, he’d always been hard on himself in regard to personal hobbies and how good or not he was at them, so perhaps she was right. 

“Well, don’t guess, because it’s true.” Zelda lifted her chin a bit stubbornly before a sheepish look flashed across her face. “I…snooped a little more, actually, and I ended up finding some of your art. You never mentioned that.”  

“My art?” Sky repeated, now at a loss. He didn’t remember any—

“The sketches,” Zelda blurted before he could continue, “in a box of personal items. In your wardrobe? I…I was trying to find things that might help me remember, uh, you.” She blushed even harder now, not meeting his gaze. 

Sky blinked, his mind empty of words. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Zelda act this bashful, but that could be because they were officially dating the last time he saw her before leaving to join the chain. She hadn’t exactly been shy and timid then, which was only natural since by then they’d been together for a few months and had (mostly) gotten past the butterflies stage. So it was strange to see her like that again now, almost like he was reliving a memory he didn’t know he had.  

“I…I think I know what you’re talking about,” he said slowly after a moment in response to her previous statement. “Just vaguely, though. See, when I was younger, I liked to sketch out my carvings before I actually carved them, since I wasn’t as experienced then and had to see them on paper first instead of just visualizing them in my mind. And I think at one point I realized I was pretty decent at art, so for a while I made sketches of anything and everything I could. That’s probably what you found.”

“Well, they were really good,” Zelda said softly. “They looked like they could come to life at any moment.” 

Sky released a huff of amusement, scuffing the toe of one boot across the ground. “I bet they weren’t that good.” 

“To me they were.” 

He glanced up at her again, studying her expression– open, sincere. She was the same Zelda, and yet so different than the one he left behind. The one before him now didn’t remember anything about him. Not their childhood together, or his favorite food, or how he had been the best swordsman in their class, or the way he used to leave tiny doodles in her school notebooks, or how they used to go night flying when it was strictly forbidden to students– 

Sky swallowed, rubbing one of the many scars on his right hand– left by his journey, not by the curse. Below it there was a fainter scar, pinkish-white with tiny branches shooting off its sides. Sky knew that particular scar traveled all up and down his body, splitting into new ones and intersecting with others similar to it. His Zelda had known about those scars and what had caused them. She hadn’t been there, but gradually he had told her about the pain. About the white-hot light traveling up and down his body. About the brilliance of it, illuminating the blade of the Master sword brighter than any flame. About the way the sword sizzled, both light and steel, as it pierced the chest of Demise. 

His Zelda knew all of that and more. She knew about the nightmares he used to have and sometimes still did, about the way he had flinched for a while if anyone touched his shoulder from behind, about the sheer exhaustion that held him in its grip for months after he saved her, though he pushed himself even harder because of it. She knew every little thing about him, but the Zelda sitting beside him now didn’t. She didn’t remember any of it, of him. He thought he had come to terms with it a little, but the smallest thing had reminded him again that it would never be the same. 

But… she was still the same, wasn’t she? 

I’m still your Zelda. 

She might not remember him, but she hadn’t changed. She was still the same Zelda, sweet and caring, drawn to him even when she didn’t know why. He wasn’t giving up on her that easily, and as he turned to face her again, he could tell by the look in her eyes that she had already decided the same about him. 

He offered her a faint smile, as much as he could muster with the tiredness creeping up on him, and she gave him one in return, fiddling with her shawl. “Did– did  you get the cookies I made for you?” she stammered after a moment, bashful again. “Cause I, um, I made you cookies–” 

Sky couldn’t help but grin at the question, his gaze softening. “Yeah, I did. They tasted great.” Actually they had tasted about as good as a pile of Loftwing excrement, but he had eaten them anyway, because his Zelda had made them for him. His Zelda. His. She might not remember him, but he could tell she wanted to, so badly. And somehow, that was enough for him right now. It had to be. 

She raised an eyebrow at his reply. “Doubtful, but I’ll let that slide.” Her gaze dropped to his left hand, resting on the bench between them. After a long moment she placed her own hand a few inches away, close enough he could feel the warmth radiating from it– Hylia’s power, thrumming just beneath her fingertips. A reminder that though she was close enough to touch, he couldn’t close the tiny gap between their fingers. Not with the runes etched into his skin. 

A bee buzzed past, startling them both, and Zelda pulled her hand away, flushing. “So, ah–” She cleared her throat. “Do you think the others are enjoying Skyloft?” 

Sky nodded, withdrawing his own hand and wiping sweat from his forehead with one sleeve. The stamina potion seemed to be wearing off already– likely due to how weak his body currently was– and the dizziness from before was beginning to return. “Yeah,” he said a bit dazedly in response to Zelda’s question. “Yeah, I think so. They’ll probably want to get lunch soon though, if we wanted to head over to the Lumpy Pumpkin.”

She hummed, not seeming to notice his delayed response. “Sounds like a plan. Though I hope none of your friends find it strange when I don’t order any of the pumpkin dishes.” 

“Ah, yes. You’ve always hated everything pumpkin, haven’t you?” Sky said in amusement. “Though I recall there have been more than a few times where you enjoyed the soup, but–” 

Abruptly he cut himself off, confused. The world was shimmering at the edges, and even when he blinked multiple times it didn’t go back to normal. “What–?” he mumbled vaguely, squinting and then rubbing his eyes. “I–?” 

Zelda turned towards him, her face twisting in concern as she studied him. “Are you…okay? You look kind of funny.” 

“No, I, uh…I don’t feel so good all of a sudden,” Sky answered, letting his eyes slip shut and feeling wildly confused. He was so tired, completely out of nowhere. And cold. Freezing, even, as if he wasn’t currently seated in a warm patch of sunlight. Dimly he heard Zelda calling somebody over, and then a wrist pressed against his sweaty forehead. 

 “He’s got a fever,” Hyrule’s voice said a moment later. “We’d better get him back to the Surface and let him rest. Too much overexertion.”

“No, I– not the Surface,” Sky protested, flailing and pushing the traveler’s arm away. “Please, I can rest in my room at the academy– I don’t want to leave just yet–” 

“I guess that’s fine for now,” Hyrule relented. “Rest for a few hours and before the evening we’ll go back down, okay? All our stuff is on the surface, and if a portal appears we should be able to grab it quickly.” 

“Well, one better not appear,” Sky managed to mumble, allowing Hyrule to help him to his feet. “Hylia, I was fine a moment ago, I don’t get it–” 

“You just used too much energy and had a bit of a relapse, that’s all.” Hyrule’s voice was gentle as he guided Sky carefully towards the stairs that led to the academy. “And fevers can happen as a result of injuries. You’re still healing, so I expect that’s what’s going on with you. Did Zelda give you a potion a little while ago?” 

“Uh, yeah, stamina potion.” 

“That’s probably why you didn’t feel too terrible till now; the potion just numbed everything a little for a bit. But I’ll get you to your room and you can sleep, okay, Sky?” 

“Sure,” Sky said with a yawn, “that’s fine by me.”     

“Hey, ah, Sky?”

Hyrule and Sky came to a halt, the chosen hero glancing over his shoulder to see Zelda following a few steps behind. She stopped walking as well, a worried expression on her face as she fiddled with her shawl. She hesitated a few seconds, then said softly, “Feel better, okay?” 

His heart skipped a beat in his chest at the glimmer of affection in her tone. “I will,” he croaked, then shook his head and amended, “I mean, I hope I will. Thank you.” 

“Sleep well,” she added shyly, before ducking out of sight behind the bazaar. 

Sky smiled a little at her words, because if there was one thing he did well, it was sleeping.

He’d have absolutely no trouble with that.

Chapter Text

Contrary to what he had believed earlier, Sky was not the champion sleeper he thought he was. 

Not tonight, anyway. Maybe it was the five hour nap he’d taken back on Skyloft, or maybe the casserole Time attempted to make for dinner hadn’t agreed with him. Whatever the cause, he had now been lying here for precisely three and a half hours, and he was still as wide awake as ever. 

Sky sighed, pushing himself up on his elbows and glancing at Wild and Legend, his current guardians who were asleep on either side of him. Maybe if he was quiet enough, they wouldn’t wake up. 

Carefully he crept from beneath the covers and scooted down to the edge of the bed, where he dug his sailcloth from his pack and burrowed into it like a blanket before scrawling a quick message on a scrap of paper. He stuck it to Wild’s forehead in case anyone woke and noticed he was missing, then crept out into the hall. The stairs creaked loudly beneath his bare feet, and he caught his breath for a moment before sneaking into the kitchen. 

He winced as he reached above his head to open a cupboard— he was healing, but his body was still sore, especially since he’d been lying still for an extended period of time. Quietly Sky fumbled around, searching through cupboard after cupboard, but he didn’t find what he was looking for— one of Luv’s sleeping potions. 

He frowned. Zelda had always used to keep a healthy supply of them in the kitchen, for the days— more frequent than he liked to admit— that Sky slept in till late afternoon and then couldn’t fall asleep later that night. Everyone on Skyloft had always liked to joke about how he could fall asleep anywhere, but insomnia was something that troubled him more than anyone would think. 

Sky sighed, giving up his search for a potion and instead creeping to a side door of the house and slipping outside. The night air was chilly, enough to make him shiver and burrow deeper into his sailcloth, but he elected to ignore it, moving quietly away from the house into the woods. 

An owl hooted somewhere in the distance as Sky padded barefoot through the grass, not sure of where exactly he was going. Maybe some fresh air would help him sleep better, he reasoned, or maybe walking would tire him out enough. Either way, it couldn't hurt him to go on a short walk, especially not on such a gorgeous night - the moon was nearly full, outshining all but the brightest of stars, and silvery shadows were cast everywhere around him, transforming the Surface into a world of magic.  

Sky hummed under his breath as he walked, sailcloth trailing behind him and wind ruffling his hair. He didn’t realize he was headed for the Sealed Temple until he was almost on top of the small cliff leading up to its side door, only needing to jump down from a small ledge to reach the area that would lead him to the foot of the cliff. He did so slowly, hesitating before scaling the vines that grew on the side of the cliff and then coming to a halt at the top.

The side doors of the temple were only a few yards away, but for a moment Sky simply stood and looked at them. After his quest ended he had come to the Sealed Temple nearly every day, spending hours sitting by the sword in its pedestal and talking to her. In the first few weeks, he used to imagine he could hear her voice answering him back— cold and metallic, giving him love advice and telling him what herbs worked best for sore muscles and answering all his questions about the surface. But as time passed, her voice had faded in his head, until eventually the only thing he had heard in reply was his own thoughts. 

That was around the time he stopped coming to speak with her, because it hurt too much to finally know for certain that she wouldn’t answer him again, that she couldn’t, because she was gone forever and she was never coming back. 

But tonight, something snapped inside of him, and he broke into a run towards the temple doors as fast as he could, breath sawing in his chest. The sword wasn’t there right now, of course, but the temple was the last place he had seen Fi face-to-face, so somehow it felt more like speaking to her. He had talked to the sword during his travels with the chain, but, though Fi was still within the sword itself, there had never been an answer. Just silence, cold and empty. And somehow that had felt worse to him than the thought of sitting in an empty temple and speaking to a ghost who wasn’t there. 

Sky slowed down as he approached the steps dipping down towards the side entrance, coming to a halt just in front of the weathered stone doors and reaching a hand out towards one of them. He hadn’t been here in what felt like years, though the reality was much shorter. Standing in front of the doors again brought a strange kind of longing to his chest, a sensation he thought he would never feel again. A strange thrill, a curiosity as to what lay ahead. He used to experience it before the start of each new dungeon, or when he arrived in a new location. A yearning, almost, a wild desire to uncover every secret that time had concealed from view.  

That excitement had faded over time, though, till it was something so foreign he thought he must have dreamed it. But now it was back, pounding in his heart like thunder, even though he already knew what lay beyond this door. 

Old stone. Wet moss. Hollow echoes. Painful memories seared with grief. 

Sky released a long exhale, head tipping back to look at the stars as his hand moved slowly away from the door. 

“What am I doing here?” he murmured to the night, but there was no answer. Just the soft whisper of wind in the trees overhead, the rustle of it in his hair. 

Sky thinned his lips and reached for the doors again with shaking hands. Painful memories or not, something inside of him needed to go in here, needed…something. Even if Fi wasn’t there. Even if it was just him, whispering secrets to the silence. 

The doors groaned and shuddered as he shouldered them open; evidently no one else had been in here either while he was away, at least not through this entrance. He flinched a little at the resounding thud the doors made as they slammed shut behind him; ever since his quest, he hadn’t been too fond of doors that closed on their own, sealing him in rooms where ancient horrors slumbered. 

Sky took a few cautious steps into the temple, glancing briefly around at the shadowy structures and alcoves before pacing softly up the small flight of stairs that led to the back room of the temple. There, beyond the inner set of doors hanging crooked on their hinges, was the pedestal where he and Fi had said farewell, where the Master Sword had stood in silence at the end of Sky’s quest. He had tended to it dutifully for a while, keeping the visible portion free of dust and debris, but eventually after the visits became too painful and he stopped coming it had turned gray with a layer of dust.

Now it was gone, back with one of the chain at the Surface settlement, and Sky was standing before the empty pedestal, his chest suddenly tight.  

Several moments went by before he settled cross-legged onto the stone floor beside the pedestal, propping his chin on one fist and looking at the pedestal in silence. “Hello, Fi,” he said quietly after a few seconds, imagining for a brief moment that the sword was before him, back in its rightful place of rest. “How are you doing? I haven’t spoken to you in a while.”

He fell silent for a moment, closing his eyes and listening to the slow drip, drip of water on the floor somewhere and the rustle of trees drifting through a hole in the ceiling. It felt strange to be here again, after so much time had passed. He could still recall the first time he had come in here, shortly after he left Skyloft for the first time— the ancient, mossy smell of the temple that gradually settled deep into his bones, the scuffing of his boots on the floor, the shafts of sunlight that poured in through a hole in the ceiling and illuminated the clouds of dust in the air. And the sense, the tangible feeling that Zelda had been there not too long before, but he just hadn’t been fast enough to catch up to her. 

“I wish you could tell me what to do, Fi.” Sky’s voice echoed through the massive room. “I feel so lost. You’d think there would be some way to fix this, but…”

He sighed, tipping his head back to look at the stars through the gap in the ceiling. “Though lately it hasn’t been so bad,” he amended, tracing a finger through the layer of dust on the stone floor. “Maybe rebuilding the relationships I had before isn’t as terrible as it sounded. I mean, I’ll always miss the memories I had with them, and the fact that they can’t remember, but maybe making new memories is the key to rising above this. Don’t you think?”

Silence. Sky swallowed, brushing his fingers against the engravings on the side of the pedestal. “I’m sure you would be horrified if you knew you had burned me,” he murmured. “But it wasn’t your fault. It was mine, honestly. I went into the stupid cave in the first place; it’s my fault I got cursed. I would’ve burned me, too.”

He got to his feet, pacing slowly around the room and trying to mull through his thoughts. This was the chamber where Zelda had sealed herself. He could still see a few shards of amber crystal here and there amongst the dirt and crumbled stone on the ground, or peeking out from the vines that choked the walls. Fi had told him sometime after Zelda sealed herself that she had done what she thought was best, but secretly he knew it was her way of apologizing for what she put him through. A heartfelt repentance for something that didn’t even merit his anger. 

It wasn’t her fault, just like the curse on his spirit wasn’t his. He saw that now. They were just kids, and there was only so much they could do. Hylia had sacrificed everything to save her people, and that had been enough. He couldn’t blame her for choosing him. And he couldn’t blame himself for what Demise had done— or for the runes now etched into his skin. Things happened, and sometimes there was nothing anyone could do to stop them, no matter how hard they tried. 

He stepped back into the main room of the temple, letting his eyes trace the memories— the empty wooden chest in one corner by the stairs, the giant tree in the alcove, the now-empty place where the Gate of Time had spun. If he focused hard enough, he could see old Impa seated at the top of the dais, braid swinging rhythmically back and forth, bracelet glinting on one shriveled wrist. He could feel the earth shaking below his feet as the Imprisoned burst forth from its seal, sending cataclysmic rumbles through the soles of his boots. He could hear Groose’s bragging echoing through the walls of the temple. He could smell the sharp tang of magic, left behind like a cloud of poison after Ghirahim whisked Zelda away into the past. 

And he could see himself, small, fierce, his skin covered in cuts and scrapes and bruises, his tunic riddled with holes and ash, dirt smeared on his face and blood on his hands. Taking everything that came at him and choosing not to let it defeat him. Forcing himself on and on and on, to the next dungeon, past the next monster, through the next door, closer and closer to Zelda with every step. Fi at his side and a shield at his back and a wild mix of love and courage in his heart. 

A soft sky child who plummeted to the earth with broken wings, and found that he could run. 

That boy’s shadow— Link’s shadow, the Link with a cracked shield and a broken ankle and nothing but audacity to fuel him— stretched out before Sky now, eerie and wavering on the floor of the temple. He stared at it, almost tasting the metallic grit of blood on his tongue as his shadow spat it out. Almost smelling the smoke that had seared into his clothes. Almost feeling the mix of grit and sweat and sand that covered his skin as he struggled to fix his shield. Almost hearing the indignant chimes of Fi, who hovered above him and insisted that he should seek medical attention immediately, or his search for Zelda would be hindered and he might injure himself even worse later on. 

Sky blinked, and all the memories disappeared from his view. His shadow returned to normal— a broken, barefoot boy, a shell of the hero he used to be, draped in a threadbare sailcloth. Fi’s voice faded away, replaced by the slow drip of water. 

So many ghosts haunting him tonight. 

Sky sighed, turning and shuffling back up the steps of the dais to Fi’s pedestal. “I shouldn’t have come here,” he murmured, curling into a ball on the cold stone floor and closing his eyes. “Too many memories.”

He lay in silence for a few minutes, listening to the dripping water and the rush of wind and the muffled thump of his own heartbeat, echoing dully in his ears. He thought he might find something by coming in here, but now he felt colder and emptier than before. As if he came in searching for something, and lost something else he didn’t even know was there. 

“Sky?” 

The voice, paired with the groaning of the temple doors opening, startled him, so much that he somehow managed to whack his head against the Master Sword’s pedestal as he jolted upright. He flinched, a hiss of pain escaping him as he brought one hand up to his head. No blood, which didn’t surprise him. He’d been decked by a literal boulder during his quest; a mere whack to the head wouldn’t do much. 

He glanced over his shoulder to see Zelda standing near the side entrance, pushing one of the doors closed and wincing. “Sorry,” she said apologetically. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Sky answered, rubbing his head with one hand and shifting into a cross-legged position again. “I thought I was alone, that’s all.” 

“Well, you were,” she returned, coming up the steps towards him and sitting on the ground a few feet away. “Till now.”

An awkward silence settled over them. Sky glanced discreetly at Zelda out of the corner of his eye– she was barefoot like him, wrapped in her favorite knitted shawl with her hair braided out of her face. He remembered when she made that shawl a few years ago– she had spent several days on it, holed up in her room and not coming out unless he went in and physically dragged her outside to eat or get fresh air. It was her best work yet, knitted with a lavender-colored yarn and full of fancy stitches and little flowers she had carefully sewn on afterwards, and she had been so proud of it when she finished, all but sprinting to Sky’s room and donning it for his approval. The yarn was faded and fuzzy now, worn and damaged from years of use, but Zelda had staunchly declared that she would wear it till it fell apart because she didn’t care how broken it was; she still loved it anyway.

…Oh. 

Maybe that applied to people, too.

Sky cleared his throat, feeling his face warm at the thought as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you, uh, follow me here?” he asked a bit hoarsely. 

“...Would you believe me if I said no?” 

He chuckled a bit, pulling his knees up to his chest and folding his arms around them. “I know you too well, so no, I wouldn’t.” 

Zelda raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sky snorted, ducking his head a little beneath her gaze. “It means that we’ve always followed each other everywhere, ever since we were kids, and I don’t think you forgetting me would change that.” 

“Ah.”

Another silence settled over them. Sky bit his lip, rocking back and forth a little and trying to think of something to say, but it was Zelda who spoke first. “So…why did you come here?” 

“Oh, um–” He sighed, thinking over how to phrase it. “Well, ah, after my quest I used to come and talk to Fi, and I wanted to do that again, I guess? I–I know she isn’t here right now, but it felt more like talking to her than talking to the sword did, if that makes any sense.” 

Zelda nodded, propping her chin in one hand and looking thoughtful. “It does,” she said, shivering a little and wrapping her shawl more tightly around her before adding a bit shyly, “What were you talking to her about?” 

“Not much, really.” Sky shrugged. “Just…asking what I should do, and talking through my situation a bit. For instance, I think I’ve realized that maybe it’s not worth it to dwell so much on what I’ve lost, but rather that I should dwell on what I still do have.” 

Zelda tilted her head, giving him an introspective look. “And what do you still have?” she asked quietly. Like she wanted him to say something specific but wasn’t sure how to ask. 

He returned her gaze, heart skipping a beat when he saw that her face was just as pink as his, even in the shadows of the temple. “Well, I have the chain, and Crimson, and…and I have you,” he answered, just as quietly. “Even if you all don’t remember me, that doesn’t mean I can’t make new memories.” 

Zelda looked away, a bitter look entering her expression as she looked down at her hands. “Only to a certain extent, though,” she murmured, gaze darkening further. “I mean, I can’t hug you, or hold your hand, or–” 

Sky was sure his face was redder than Crimson’s feathers at this point as he leaned forward and interrupted, “You mean…you want to? You– want to hug me, and hold my hand, and–?”

And do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?   

Zelda’s face reddened, and she looked away, biting her lip. “It feels weird saying this, because I don’t have any memories of you. It’s like I just met you, but it also feels like I’ve known you for…centuries. But– yes. Yes, I do want to. I wish I could, but–” She glanced at her hands again. “Stupid magic.”  

“Ah, yes,” Sky sighed. “I feel like a lot of problems could be easily solved if magic had just…never existed. Or maybe they would be worse if it wasn’t there.” He gave her a rueful grin, head tipping slightly to one side. “But I guess we’ll never know.” 

She hummed in reply, slumping forward a little with her hands on either side of her neck. A few moments of silence went by before she said quietly, “I’m sorry I hurt you. The other day– before we knew that touching me would–” She trailed into silence, a sheen of tears filling her eyes.  

Sky blinked, taken aback by the statement for a moment before he leaned towards her and said fiercely, “Hey, no. You didn’t hurt me, alright? I didn’t even feel it.”

She shrank away from him a little, taken aback by his sudden aggression, so Sky softened his tone and continued gently, “You couldn’t have known, so don’t blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, okay?” 

“Okay,” Zelda whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. “I just…I’m sorry about everything . I know you’ve been through so much, your whole life– and it’s mostly because of me, you know? Because I’m Hylia and I made you do all this, and now you’re stuck with a curse and I can’t do anything to fix it, I’d just hurt you again–” 

“Hey!” Sky reached out his hand towards her, stopping it only an inch or so from her own. “Again, it’s not your fault. None of this is. I know you don’t remember now, but after my quest you had a lot of moments like this where you felt like it was somehow your fault for what I went through. But it wasn’t, okay? You gave up everything you had for your people, just so they could have a chance. You never made me do anything. I did it completely of my own volition, and I’d do it all over again, a thousand times.” He softened his voice, leaning forward slightly to meet her downcast gaze. “Please believe me?”

She sniffled, lifting a hand to wipe away tears with one sleeve and nodding. “Okay,” she murmured. “I just– I hate that I can’t remember. Maybe I’d feel less guilty if I could, if I knew that what you were saying really was true– but I don’t know you that well right now, do I? I– I have to take you at your word. And I can do that, I can , but it’s– it’s difficult to believe that you really went through all of that because you wanted to. I would never do all of that for me, so I don’t see why you would, either,” she finished, barely audible.  

Sky stared at her in disbelief. “You don’t think you’re worth what I went through?” he whispered. “Zel, believe me, you’re worth so much more than that. I would have died for you if that’s what it took to make you safe. I would have endured endless torture, I– 

“But that’s what makes me feel so horrible,” Zelda interrupted, tears running down her cheeks. “You shouldn’t have to feel that way. You should feel free, and– and happy, and not like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, but from all I’ve heard from the other Links about their own quests that must be exactly what you feel. I know that as Hylia I gave up a lot, but it wasn’t enough. Not for me to ask all this of you. Not to make you go through so much for a girl you thought you cared for, when really I was just manipulating you and your emotions. Pulling the strings in the background like– like you were my own personal puppet.” 

“What strings were you pulling?” Sky exclaimed, frustration welling within him because no matter what he said, she still refused to see his point of view. “I told you, I did everything out of my own free will. Because I wanted to. Because I loved you! Because I still do love you!” 

His words ricocheted off the walls of the temple, becoming fainter with each second, and in the fading echoes Zelda went white as a sheet. 

“But you shouldn’t,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Did…did I ever realize that, before you got cursed? Did I ever realize that whatever love you had for me was forced by my own hand? Sky, you– you can’t love me. Not really. You love the idea of me. Childhood friends…that’s what we were, right? That’s what you love. You don’t really love me. You can’t . I– I used you.” 

“No, you didn’t use me! You told me the exact same thing when I first found out you were Hylia,” Sky shot back, desperate for her to hear what he was saying. “I didn’t believe you then, and I don’t believe you now. What do I have to do to show you I mean it, that I don’t just love you because you forced me to? I’m not your puppet! I’m not under a spell! I love you because I love you! Because you’re Zelda, my best friend, my soulmate, not because you created me to love you centuries ago. What further proof–” 

He cut himself off just then as a sudden thought crept into his mind. “I told you I would die for you,” he continued quietly after a moment. “And this is nowhere close to that, but maybe, since you don’t remember what I went through to get you back, this can be a start for proving how much I love you.” 

Zelda’s eyes widened in panic. “Sky, no, what–” 

She was cut off by Sky leaning forward and pressing his lips to hers, featherlight. In spite of the curse, in spite of the magic within her, in spite of the pain that flared in his body at the contact, in spite of his heart thudding wildly in his ears. In spite of everything. Somehow he had to show her that his words were true. And maybe this wasn’t the best way, but if he could prove it to her, even with the pain, even with–

But Zelda pulled away mere seconds later, scrambling backwards and looking terrified. “Why did you do that?” she cried. “I’m hurting you! You could need stitches again!” She was sobbing, much like she had been on the day when they discovered her touch hurt him. “You– you shouldn’t have to prove that you love me. I’m sorry I made you think that, I didn’t mean it– it’s just so hard for me to believe someone could love me that much, without me manipulating you somehow. But– but hurting yourself to prove it, that’s not what I meant, that’s not what I wanted, I– I’m so sorry I made you think that way, please–”  

“But I just wanted you to know,” Sky said desperately, his own vision blurring. “I couldn’t think of any other way–” 

“But you shouldn’t have to,” she exclaimed again, tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “If I’ve made you think you have to prove yourself to me then– then maybe I’m a monster, or something. Maybe I’ve always been the monster.” 

“No, you’re not a monster!” Sky jumped to his feet, reaching out for her even as she backed away from him. “You’re not! I– I shouldn’t have done that, I agree, but–” 

Zelda suddenly froze, her gaze zoning in on his face. “Sky, wait, there’s–” She clasped a hand over her mouth, staring at him in horror and taking another step backwards, then another. “I did that. I did that, didn’t I? That– that wasn’t there before.” 

“What wasn’t?” He returned her gaze in confusion, reaching half-consciously to touch his face. His fingers brushed against what felt like grooves on each of his cheeks, on his forehead, on his chin, and when he pulled his hand away there was a faint coppery tinge on his fingertips. Somehow, through his brief contact with Zelda’s magic just now, more runes had become visible, this time on his face. Whether that was because of how strong her magic was, or the magic coming into contact with his face this time through the kiss, or something else, the curse had made itself known once again.  

“I knew I would hurt you,” Zelda sobbed. “I made it worse somehow. I, I don’t know how, but I told you it was my fault. I told you–”

Shaking, she turned and bolted for the side doors of the temple, her shawl falling to the ground and landing in a puddle of water as she fled. “Zelda, no, wait!” Sky cried, reaching out for her, but the doors slammed shut behind her and she was gone before he could draw another breath. 

Sky sank to his knees, trembling. “What have I done?” he whispered. He thought tonight had been good, that he had come to terms with the curse, that he had resolved to make new memories instead of dwelling on the past. But that resolve had vanished the moment he saw her, the moment he remembered again all he had lost. She cared about him still– she had to, based on how she’d been acting, and how distraught she’d become– but she couldn’t fully grasp that he loved her. And she couldn’t remember that her past self, the girl who knew everything about him, had been able to forgive herself for what she’d done as Hylia, had come to accept that his love for her was true and genuine and that she hadn’t forced it in any way.

Numbly Sky reached for her shawl, lifting it and doing his best to wipe the dirt off before he hugged it to his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said hoarsely to the darkness, his eyes welling with tears. “I didn’t mean it.” 

I just wish you could remember. I wish you could know that you’ve already forgiven yourself, but you don’t remember that now. And I don’t know how to fix it. 

He got slowly to his feet, moving towards the main doors of the temple– the ones that led out into the Sealed Grounds. The doors creaked and groaned beneath his hands, much like the other set had done, but he barely noticed as he shuffled between them and out into the grass beyond. He didn’t notice them slamming shut behind him, either, or the sudden chill of wind on his skin, or the gleam of stars overhead. All he noticed was the sudden spurt of panic in his chest, followed by another, and another, until he was all but reeling. 

Not again. Please, not again. I thought– I thought I was better, I thought I was okay– 

Zelda’s shawl slipped from his hands, and Sky fell to his hands and knees in the grass, the air suddenly sharp and angry in his lungs. He was breathing fast, too fast, so fast he couldn't control it, so fast his body shuddered as it struggled to process each inhale. Blood pounded through his veins with an almost explosive force, making his head spin as he tried and failed to control his breathing. His eyes darted wildly from side to side, fingers clenching desperately into the grass as his chest heaved with every breath. Everything felt somehow too real and yet at the same time had the watery, otherworldly tang of a dream, like he was caught between the borders of lies and reality. Like he was floating far, far away even while his hands were pressing into the earth. 

Sky closed his eyes. In, out. In, out.

I thought I was doing so well. But I guess it was a lie.

In, out. In, out.

Maybe I should just never say or do anything, ever again– 

There was a rustling nearby, and then a faint whine met Sky’s ears, followed by the light pressure of something fuzzy against his neck and the warmth of someone exhaling. He lifted his head, managing to catch his breath for a moment as he looked at the giant gray beast that had appeared before him, its blue eyes worried and sad. 

“Hey, Wolfie,” Sky was able to whisper. 

The wolf whined again in response, pink tongue darting out to lick Sky’s cheek. The chosen hero swallowed tightly and shifted into a crouch, chin resting on his arms, tears dripping slowly onto the grass. He rocked silently back and forth for a moment, arms wrapped so tightly around himself he was sure his ribs would break, before a sob tore from his lungs, forcing its way between his teeth. Sky’s final barricade gave way, and he crumpled, arms winding around Wolfie’s neck, face burying itself in the beast’s thick fur as he sobbed.

“I thought I could do it,” he cried, entire body shaking. “I thought I could do it. I thought it was getting better, and that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed, but I messed everything up again. Just like I always do.” 

A soft whimper escaped the wolf, and he turned his head to lick Sky’s cheek a second time as if to say it’ll be okay . 

Sky didn’t believe it, though. He had told himself that too many times lately, and each time he was proven wrong. He was tired of hoping. Not tired enough to lose himself to the darkness he’d been stuck in days before, but tired enough to not risk hoping for anything else.

I’m sorry , he thought. I can’t try any more. 

Around them the shadows lengthened as the night grew deeper, but Sky didn’t move. He simply clung to Wolfie’s neck and sobbed until, too exhausted to stay awake any longer, he let the world fade away into darkness.

Chapter Text

Sky didn’t see Zelda for days after the incident at the Sealed Temple.

It stung, but he attempted to lessen the ache by convincing himself it was better this way. That maybe now she wouldn’t beat herself up with guilt over things that were out of her control, that maybe he wouldn’t feel the pain of looking at her and knowing she didn’t remember their life together. It was a lie, but he preferred to believe it over the truth– at least for now. 

Lies could only be held onto for so long. 

He spent most of his time in his room in Zelda’s house on the Surface, usually with a few of the chain hanging with him; as for Zelda herself, he was informed that she was staying with Karane a few houses down. Again, probably a good thing, especially because the rest of the chain was aware that something had happened between him and Zelda– though the specifics were unknown to them.

Sky preferred it to stay that way. They had already spent enough time lately dealing with his burdens; after all that had happened, he just wanted to be treated normally for once, without an ounce of pity or sympathy directed at him. Even just a few hours of normalcy would be enough. But seemingly that was impossible even with his concealment of what had happened, because the curse alone was enough to make the chain pity him for the rest of their time together. 

Right now he was busying himself with a wood carving for the first time in what felt like months, though his hands were somewhat unsteady as he chipped slowly away at the block of wood. The rest of the chain was scattered around his room, chattering lightly amongst themselves or working on their own hobbies, and the peaceful murmurs soothed Sky’s mind, giving him something to focus on aside from his own heavy thoughts. 

The relaxed feeling shifted rapidly, however, when he overheard a snippet of conversation between Time and Legend– something about we can’t be too careful and probably best to keep it among ourselves for now.

The hairs on the back of Sky’s neck prickled at the words. He set his knife down with a dull thunk on the table before him and placed the block of wood beside it, then twisted in his chair to glance at the pair seated near him. They stopped talking, noticing he was watching, and Sky frowned. 

“What’s going on? What are you talking about– something about keeping it amongst yourselves?” 

Legend hesitated, gaze flicking from Sky to Time, who mirrored the veteran’s uncertain expression. They seemed to be debating whether or not they should answer or not.  

Sky’s heartbeat quickened in his chest at their hesitation. Something was definitely up. 

“There’ve just been a few reports going around, that’s all,” Legend responded cautiously after a moment. “But they probably aren’t true.” 

Sky’s breath clogged in his throat, and he leaned forward, a chill passing through him for reasons he couldn’t explain. “What do you mean?” he said hoarsely. 

“Nothing to worry about. Just…some people have been going to Zelda saying they’ve seen strange shapes in the woods.” 

Sky flinched slightly at the mention of Zelda, then froze as the rest of the sentence sank in. “Wait, strange shapes? As in animals, people– Has there been a description about what they look like? What–”  

“It’s fine, Sky,” Wild spoke up from the back of the room. Four made a sound of agreement from where he sat reading a book on metallurgy. “If anything’s going on, we have it under control.”  

(So this isn’t just between Time and Legend). 

Sky’s gaze darkened at the Champion’s words. “But this is my home,” he said fiercely, sitting up a bit straighter. “If anything’s going on, I’d like to know about it.” 

“But we aren't even sure if these rumors are true, Sky,” Warriors put in. Wind nodded beside him.  

“Yes, for all we know it could just be an animal,” Twilight agreed.  

(Do all of them know already? Except for me?)  

“And you’re still recovering,” added Hyrule. “Even if something is going on, you probably shouldn’t get involved for now. Just trust us, okay?” 

(So I’m the only one they haven’t told?)  

Sky scoffed, pushing unsteadily to his feet and stalking towards the door as anger clouded his vision. “Fine,” he spat, reaching for the doorknob. “ Fine. Leave me out of things just like you always have. I should be used to it by now.” 

“...what?” 

Sky came to a halt, mentally kicking himself; he hadn’t meant to let that slip, but it was too late now. “I didn’t mean that,” he murmured after a moment. “Just forget about it.” 

“But Sky,” Wind said, getting to his feet and moving to the chosen one’s side. He caught Sky’s hand in his own, giving him a worried look. “What do you mean? Did we used to not tell you things?” 

Sky fell silent, his head drooping slightly as memories flooded his mind.

What’s everyone laughing about? 

Nothing, Sky. Don’t worry about it. Just an inside joke. 

Oh. Okay. 

~ 

Can I go foraging with you three? 

It’s probably best if you stay and watch the camp. Everyone else is out gathering supplies so we shouldn’t leave our stuff unattended. 

Oh. Sure. 

~ 

Need any help with that? 

No, but thanks. We’ve got it handled. 

Oh. Yeah. Should’ve known. 

What? 

Nothing. 

~ 

 Yeah , Sky thought in reply to the sailor’s question. Yeah, you did. I stopped asking after a while. Guess I shouldn’t have asked this time, either. 

Aloud he repeated, “Just forget about it. It doesn’t matter now.” 

He opened the door and slipped out into the hall, making his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He leaned against one wall and slid down it into a sitting position on the floor, tipping his head back and staring blankly at the ceiling. 

He didn’t know why this was upsetting him so much. Clearly they thought they were protecting him by not telling him; they couldn’t have known how much it would hurt to be left out. How much it would remind him of how even before the curse, he was an outsider. Because, if he was being honest, the reason he was tired of them carrying his burdens was because he simply wasn’t used to it. He was used to shouldering everything on his own, keeping things inside and not telling them because they probably wouldn’t have listened anyway. But they didn’t remember how they had acted before, and so now for them to be the complete opposite was… 

Overwhelming. 

Not that he didn’t want them to care. But it stung to think that if they knew who he was, they wouldn’t be paying this much attention to him, if at all. The only reason for their supposed kindness was because he was a relative stranger to them. 

(Though, hadn’t he always been?) 

They would come looking for him in a minute, but he couldn’t face them right now. Not when everything was upside down. Not when something was deeply wrong with him and always had been. 

“What kind of monster would be upset that people were worried about him?” he whispered bitterly, eyes slipping closed. “While simultaneously being upset that if everything returns to normal, they’ll stop being worried whatsoever? ” 

No matter what options he considered, it hurt, and he didn’t know why. The others cared about him, he knew that. But somehow, no matter how he looked at it, there was no fix. Even if the curse was lifted, they would just go back to how they had been before. And he would be an outsider again. 

Or perhaps not “again.” He still was an outsider, and he always would be. Nothing could ever change that–

“Sky?” 

Sky jolted out of his thoughts, glancing over his shoulder to see the chain filtering one by one into the kitchen from the direction of the stairwell. “Sky, we’re sorry,” Warriors said gently, crouching so he was at eye level with the chosen one. “We shouldn’t have left you out of this. We just thought you didn’t need any…additional stress, especially because you’re still fairly weak. But we can tell you all we know, if you want.” 

Sky swallowed, the tightness in his chest constricting even further. “Sure,” he whispered aloud, because he didn’t trust himself to say that it didn’t matter if they told him now; that wouldn’t make up for all the times they had excluded him in the past. But they didn’t know about that, not really, and he was too numb to explain. 

“We really don’t know much more than what we’ve told you,” Time spoke up, joining Sky and Warriors on the floor. The others followed suit as the old man continued, “All we really know is that people have been seeing strange shadowy shapes in the woods near the settlement. There aren’t any specific details about them since they’re usually pretty far away, but if they persist we’ll go check it out.” 

“I hope it’s not Bokoblins,” Sky mumbled, though the chill from earlier was making itself known again and he couldn’t explain why. “I thought I cleared all of them out of Faron Woods.”

“I’m sure whatever it is, we can easily deal with it,” Hyrule said, reaching to lay a reassuring hand on Sky’s arm. “And that’s if it’s even an issue at all.” 

“Yeah,” Sky answered slowly, forcing himself to nod and smile for the others’ sake. Forcing himself to appear undisturbed, when in reality a strange, inexplicable horror was creeping up upon him about the whole situation. “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks for telling me.” 

“Of course,” Twilight said. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you before; we really thought it was the best decision but I realize now it wasn’t.” 

“But, Sky,” put in Time, “if we do end up investigating it, it’s probably best for you to stay here. Just in case. We don’t want you getting hurt while you’re still recovering from your recent injury.” 

“But, but I–” 

“No arguments,” Time interrupted, then added more softly, “This is for your benefit, Sky. We’re not trying to exclude you, or make you feel hurt– it’s to keep you safe and well. You’ve been through enough. Okay?” He wrapped a comforting arm around Sky and gave him a gentle squeeze. 

The chosen hero hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Okay. I understand.” 

He didn’t, not really, but it was better to pretend. Better to keep believing the lies he had been feeding himself. Better to ignore the reality of the situation, even as a dread he couldn’t explain was slipping its way through his heart. 

“Anyway, it’s almost time for dinner,” Wild put in cheerfully, changing the subject. “That might help you feel better, Sky.”  

“That’s a good idea,” Wind chirped, perking up at the suggestion and scrambling to his feet to help Wild get supplies ready. “I’m ravenous.” 

I’m not, Sky thought. He felt almost sick all of a sudden after their conversation, filled with a strange sense of unease. He slumped back against the wall, closing his eyes as the kitchen filled with the chain’s idle chatter and scuffing footsteps and trying not to think about the supposed figures in the woods. But something in his heart kept twinging in fear, whispering that something wasn’t right. That something was coming.

That somewhere out in the trees, it was waiting for just the right moment.

Chapter Text

Only a few days later, in the murk of a brewing storm, Twilight came stumbling out of the woods where he had gone patrolling earlier that morning, breathless and frantic. “Where’s Time?” he gasped, skidding to a halt in front of Wild, who was outdoors with Four harvesting herbs for lunch. 

“I think he’s upstairs with Sky, who was asleep last time I checked,” Wild answered, straightening and giving the rancher a concerned look. “Is everything okay?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” Twilight swallowed, bracing his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. He glanced at Four, who was still foraging a few yards away, then added in an undertone, “I was in wolfshape for a bit while patrolling and sensed dark magic coming from the deep part of the woods. I followed it for a while, and the further I went the worse it became.” 

“Dark magic…like the beasts we’ve been coming across? Or the portals?” 

“No.” Twilight shook his head, straightening to his full height again. “This magic was different. Pure corruption, and incredibly powerful. We need to go check it out.” 

Wild set his jaw, putting down the basket of herbs he was holding and turning towards the house. “Okay. I’ll go find the others, if–” 

He stopped speaking as a massive shadow fell over the ground in front of them. Above their heads, a massive lavender Loftwing was speeding towards the earth at alarming speeds, a blur of pink and yellow on its back. The bird pulled up at the last minute, sinking its talons into the grass and flinging out its wings to balance itself as it came to a graceless halt. 

The bird’s rider, who was none other than Zelda, slipped off its back and came hurriedly over to Wild and Twilight, flushed and bearing an alarmed expression on her face. “I think something’s happening in the Deep Woods,” she said breathlessly, raising an arm to shield her eyes from the wind and looking between the two of them. “I was flying over that area as a safety precaution ahead of the storm and I thought I saw movement down below, near Skyview Temple. Not a forest animal, either; it was something big.” 

“…Hmm. Okay. Could you make out anything else?” Twilight asked. 

Zelda swallowed, lost in thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, I’m sorry. But whatever it was, it wasn’t supposed to be there. That area should be empty of monsters or, well, anything.” 

Twilight traded a look with Wild that Zelda caught onto immediately. “Do you already know something about it?” she whispered. 

“No, we don’t know any more than you, except…I was just telling Wild that I sensed dark magic coming from that area,” Twilight said quietly. “You’re right, something’s definitely happening down there. We’re going to round up the others and then we’ll go and check it out.” 

“Okay,” Zelda replied, her expression shifting into one of determination. “Do you want me to come with you, or–” 

Twilight grimaced, knowing she wouldn’t like what he was about to say. “I– appreciate the offer, but someone needs to stay behind with Sky while we’re gone. He’s still too weak to come with us, and he’ll need support.” 

Zelda’s face blanched at his words, and she shook her head rapidly, stepping backwards a pace. "No, I don't think that I'm the best person for that right now. We–" 

"Zelda." Twilight placed a steady hand on her shoulder. "I know you two are at odds right now, and...I'm not really sure why, but I also know that whatever might be going on, he loves you. Truly and deeply. You’re his favorite person, from what I’ve gathered. So no matter what’s happened, yes, you are the best person to sit with him right now." 

Zelda bit her lip, staring at the ground.  

Twilight sighed. "He's going to feel pretty hurt that we went off without him when he wakes up. But he's recovering; he shouldn't be overexerting himself, and we’ve told him that. Just let him know we've gone to scout out the woods and we'll be back soon. We aren’t abandoning him– make sure he knows."

Zelda swallowed, then nodded, an ache filling her heart. “Okay,” she said softly. “I’ll do that.” 

“Good. Now, we’d better go find everyone.” Twilight ducked inside the house to alert Time while Wild ran off to find the rest of the chain. 

Around five minutes later, the chain had assembled in the middle of the settlement clearing, buckling on their gear and tucking extra supplies in their bags and belt pouches. Zelda watched them from a few feet away, a sense of dread rising within her that she couldn’t explain. She had told them she had no idea what was going on in the woods, but something deep in her heart told her that wasn’t true. Because there was one thing– 

“Okay, we’re off,” Time said, interrupting her train of thought and glancing over his shoulder at her. “Take care of Sky for us, okay? Hopefully we won’t take long.” 

“I will,” she answered a bit hoarsely, her internal dread erupting into a choking terror as the chain began filtering towards the edge of the clearing. “Please— be careful!” 

A few of them nodded and smiled reassuringly at her, and then they were gone, swallowed whole by the shadows. 

She couldn’t help but feel that was merely a foreboding of whatever they were about to stumble into in the woods. 

<><><> 

“So, I know you said you sensed dark magic, and that Zelda saw something as she was out flying, but do we have any more information than that?” 

Twilight shook his head at Hyrule, who had asked the question as they walked deeper into the forest. “Unfortunately not,” he answered grimly, squinting as wind from the brewing storm whipped against his face. “The only thing I can really tell you is that this magic is extremely powerful. Almost more so than anything I think I’ve come across before.” 

 “Why can’t we feel it?” piped up Wind. 

Twilight reddened, exchanging a look with Wild. “...I think my time in the Twilight realm influenced it somehow,” he said finally. He wasn’t fully ready to let them all know that he was Wolfie, even if three of them– Time, Wild, and Sky– already were aware. Besides, they were on a mission right now; his wolfshape was a conversation for another day.  

“Ah, okay,” Wind mused in relentment. “So– what does it feel like, then?” 

The rancher frowned, tipping his head back and inhaling the dusky scent of oncoming rain. “Intense. Really intense,” he answered after a moment. “And sharp, somehow. Like the smell of smoke, or like lightning. And–” 

He hesitated, thinking back to the sensations he’d experienced while he was in wolfshape earlier. There was one particular feeling that he couldn’t quite put his finger on– almost like–

His eyes widened.  

“I mentioned to Wild earlier that it felt corrupted,” he continued, slowing his pace a little as he sifted through his memories. “But now that I think about it it’s more than just that. It’s like some ancient malice, or…possession.” 

Like his Zelda, puppetized. Her blue eyes transformed into a sickly yellow, strange dark patterns upon her greenish-gray skin, a voice that didn’t belong to her coming from her mouth. Due to how strong the magic controlling her had been, he was able to sense it even in his ordinary human form. 

But right now, the deeper they went into the woods, he realized that the magic here was equally strong.  He could see the others had begun to appear uncomfortable, as though they were starting to sense the magic even without the benefit of an animal form. He was beginning to feel it as well– an intense, staticky sensation that electrified the air around them the closer they got to the temple deep in the forest.

Uneasily Twilight scanned the trees around them, their branches swaying in the wind of the gathering storm. Every now and then, it seemed, there was a dark flash of non-floral movement here and there that vanished whenever he turned to look at it. As if the chain was being watched. He whipped his head to one side at another burst of movement, just in time to catch a glimmer of what looked to be scales before whatever it was ducked into the shadows again. 

“You see it too?” Legend whispered, noticing Twilight’s slower pace and darting eyes. 

Twilight nodded, his skin prickling. If he was in wolfshape right now, his hackles would be raised. “I don’t like this one bit,” he whispered back, fingers tensed and ready to reach for his sword at the slightest disturbance. 

Around them the rest of the chain had fallen silent, the forest devoid of sound save for the crunch of leaves underfoot, the roar of wind in the trees, and the approaching rumble of thunder. And– something else. Twilight tipped his head to one side, grateful that his wolf senses were still somewhat active in human form, and listened.

There.  

Slow, heavy footfalls were just barely audible in the trees around them, so quiet that they couldn’t be detected without specific effort. Not only that, but ragged breathing could also be heard, punctuated by the sound of tongues swiping across scaly lips and fanged teeth. 

Twilight stumbled to a halt, reaching a silent hand out to Time, who was walking just ahead of him. “Old man,” he said as quietly as he possibly could. 

The others came to a collective halt as Time turned to meet Twilight’s gaze, seeming to understand what he was getting at. The rancher swallowed thickly, fingers already moving towards the hilt of his sword. 

“We’re surrounded,” he breathed, featherlight. 

In the trees around them, the heavy footfalls abruptly ceased, and the soft clink of claws against metal emitted from the shadows. 

“Okay, boys,” Time whispered, reaching for his own sword. “You know what to do.” 

There was a sharp crackle of leaves just ahead. 

“Goodness me,” a voice purred, though when they whipped around to look in its direction no one was there. “How thoughtful of you all to make this so easy.” 

<><><>

When Sky opened his eyes, he was alone except for Zelda, who sat perched in a chair next to his bed. He jolted upright, a flush crossing his cheeks and hope springing up inside of him at the sight. Maybe she’d come to make up, and–

He went still, processing the silence for a long moment.

Zelda looked uncomfortable, seeming to guess what he was thinking. “They said they’d be back soon,” she told him quietly. “They just went to investigate something in the woods, but they wanted me to let you know they aren’t leaving you. They’re coming back.” 

“Something in the woods,” Sky repeated, thinking back to their conversation the other day. “I don’t like that. Is it these figures people have been seeing?” 

“I think so. And early this morning I saw something scaly moving in the woods. But that’s not all, unfortunately.” Zelda swallowed. “Twilight said he sensed dark magic coming from the same area.” 

“...Dark magic?” Sky’s brows furrowed, and he sank back on his elbows, lost in thought as he mulled over Zelda’s words. “But that makes no sense. There’s no dark magic left in this Hyrule; I–" 

He stopped talking, a chill washing over him like a wave of ice. 

Oh.  

“Oh no,” he whispered hoarsely, causing the worry on Zelda’s face to deepen. “Oh, golden Triforce. I should’ve realized before now–” 

“What?” Zelda asked anxiously, leaning forward as her face went pale with fear. “What is it?” 

“They don’t know what they’re dealing with,” Sky fumbled to reply, tripping over his own feet as he lurched out of bed in a tangle of sheets. “They don’t know who they’re dealing with.” 

“What do you mean?” Zelda stood up from her seat, eyes wide and horrified. “You know what it is?” 

“Not what. Who ,” Sky answered, barely stopping to yank his tunic over his undershirt and pants and his boots on his feet. He then dashed into the hall and snatched the sword he had used in the dragon fight from Warriors’ gear, along with a spare shield. 

“Sky?!” Zelda skidded into the hall after him. “You can’t go after them, let alone fight! You’re still recovering! And based on how you’re reacting, this is something big–” 

Sky whipped around to face her, heart thundering in his ears. “They don’t know who they’re dealing with,” he enunciated, slinging the shield over his back and buckling the hilt of the sword around his waist. “I have to go stop them. They don’t know what he can do.” 

“Who is ‘he?’” Zelda asked frantically. “Please, answer me!” 

“It would take too long to explain,” Sky returned in a rush, stuffing an old heart potion in one of the pouches hanging at his belt. “I’ll see you later. Please don’t follow me or send anyone after me. I have to stop them before it’s too late.” 

“Sky!” Zelda’s voice was desperate as he whirled past her and pounded down the staircase. As a final resort she shouted, “Link!”  

But Sky, for once, didn’t stop to listen. “I’m sorry, Zel,” he panted as he tore away down the path, through the trees towards the deep, dark part of Faron Woods near Skyview Temple. 

But I can’t let them die. 

<><><>

In the small clearing deep in the forest, the chain pressed close together, swords drawn and eyes darting this way and that in search of whoever had spoken. 

“I thought you might come wandering right to me, but I couldn’t be sure,” the strange voice went on, this time from directly behind them. Yet when they whipped around to face it, the space it had come from was empty. 

“Who’s there?” Warriors called out, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword as his brows drew close together. “Show yourself!” 

Soft, chilling laughter brushed their ears, echoing from the treetops above them, the ground beneath their feet, and the shadowy trunks that surrounded them, all at once. “No, I don’t think I’ll do that just yet,” the voice went on, sounding amused. “First I’d like to look at you all. Hmm… yes, you’ll certainly do nicely.” 

“Coward! Come out and show yourself!” the captain called again, spinning in a circle as more laughter echoed through the forest. 

“You see, I’ve been hearing reports that some strange warriors arrived here recently, and I almost went to find out for myself,” the voice went on, unfazed. “But it’s so much easier to lure you all here instead, wouldn’t you agree?”

“What do you mean?” Legend spat, his expression darkening. 

“Oh, but haven’t you figured it out?” the voice said just a bit too gleefully, this time from directly over their heads. “This is a trap. And you’re the prey.”  

The trees around them rustled, and dozens of yellow-green eyes gleamed through the leaves as the voice continued, “My…minions, shall we say, have been scouting you all out for a while now. Though, I believe there were nine of you, and I see only eight at present. But I suppose it’s of little matter.” 

“You may think you’ve trapped us, but the opposite couldn’t be more true,” Time spoke up in a steady tone, though he scanned the trees around them as he spoke. Twilight knew him well enough to recognize he was stalling for time while he attempted to estimate the number of eyes in the shadows. 

“If that gives you comfort, then by all means believe it,” the voice cooed in reply. “Though I ought to warn you that I’ve learnt that mere Bokoblins aren’t enough in cases such as the one we find ourselves in– though where I found that out, I must admit I don’t quite remember. But these?” More laughter. “My loyal warriors, corrupted by my vengeful magic? When they’re done with you, not even your bones will remain, and the ground will be saturated bright red with your blood.”  

 “But I fear,” the voice conceded after a moment with a maniacal giggle, “I’m being extremely rude. So I suppose I ought to make your acquaintance; my sheer genius shouldn’t go uncredited before your brutal massacre, after all.” 

There was a flash of red and gold directly in front of them, so bright they were forced to shield their eyes momentarily. When the light had cleared away, a tall, imposing figure, taller even than Time, stood before them, black skin covered in branching, smoky fissures and bloodshot gray eyes staring down at them from a face filled with pure malice. 

“Hello there, children,” the figure went on, though his eyes were cold and flat and his smile stretched a little too wide as he snapped his fingers and produced a curved sabre out of thin air. Simultaneously the atmosphere filled with crackling energy that flooded them from the inside out, paralyzing them where they stood. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am the demon lord Ghirahim, and I seek revenge for my fallen master.”