Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Today we spent most of the day walking the road in Akkala. I usually try to stay far away from the road, since the Yiga are known for attacking travelers on it, but the others were worried about the monsters that like to hide in the thickets around here and insisted we take it. I'm sure if I tried I could have convinced Hyrule to cut through the forest with me, but he's probably the only one. Oh, well. It worked out well enough. We only ran into a few moblins on our way, and they were easy to take care of since thankfully they weren't infected. We made it to Tarrey Town before nightfall like I wanted and--

Bang!

“Whoops!”

“Be careful, please. We don't want the innkeeper thinking we're up here breaking things,” Time scolds, eyeing the two boys at the other end of the balcony. Wild clicks his tongue, annoyed, at the blot of ink now staining the page of his journal. He looks over at the others too and glares.

Twilight rubs the back of his head with his left hand sheepishly, muttering, “yes, sir. Sorry.”

“Did you see how fast he was spinning me, Time?” Wind asks from the floor. The younger boy is blinking rapidly, like he's still dizzy. Wild glances across the low table to where the older man sits. They share a smirk.

“Yes, I did,” Time says. “Impressive.”

At some point after the four of them left the crowded first floor of the inn, Wind and Twilight had started talking about a kind of wrestling the older boy sometimes did with the Gorons in his Hyrule. What had stared out as Wind begging to be shown how to do it-- Twilight said no, because he was worried about breaking something-- somehow turned into a game the two were playing where Twi' picked the Sailor up and spun him around as fast as possible, just to see how dizzy the boy would be when the Rancher set him back down again. The first few times he was fine, but this last time he'd tripped over his own feet and crashed onto the floor.

“You should try, Wild! It's fun,” Wind says, finally standing up again. He stumbles a bit, before bracing himself against the side of the building.

“Uh, maybe later. I'm kind of in the middle of something.” He holds up his journal. Wind gives an understanding nod and then goes back to Twilight so they can start their game again.

Wild sets his journal back in his lap and reaches over to adjust the lantern he's using for light. He feels incredibly warm right now, despite the chill in the air being carried to the village across the Tarrey Town land bridge from the sea just a little ways east. Whether it's from the thick wool blanket draped over his shoulders, the wildberry wine he'd drunk tonight, or just this moment on the upper balcony of the inn with his friends, he isn't sure. But he feels like he could sink into this warmth and stay nestled in it forever. It's nice, feeling so calm for once.

Wild picks up his pen and scratches out the ruined line he'd just written. He didn't have to worry about ink blotches when he kept his journal in the Sheikah slate, but it didn't feel right keeping it there anymore. It was Impa's idea originally, keeping a journal. She thought it would be a good way for him to keep track of all the things he needed to do. Eventually, he started writing down other things-- how he spent his day, his thoughts, his fears. He's never said so to his Zelda, or anyone else for that matter, but he does it now just in case he forgets again. Waking up with no idea who he was... he doesn't know if he could do it again. That kind of emptiness isn't something he'd wish on his worst enemy. It's like there's a hollow in his heart, and no matter what he remembers or new memory he makes, the hollow just eats it up and leaves him as dark and empty as before. If something happens to him again, he needs a starting point. Maybe he wouldn't feel so bad if he had one. That's where the journal comes in. If he has something written in his own hand, something that tells him how he thinks and feels, maybe it wouldn't feel so much like he was a different person. He thinks, maybe, if he'd had something like this from him, it would be easier to be the Link that people remember. That's why he moved the journal from the slate to the simple leather book he has now. He knows he'll have to give the slate back at some point, and when he does he doesn't want his journal to go with it. It was strange at first, writing his thoughts down with ink and paper, instead of just tapping the screen of the slate and watching his words appear with every glowing blue letter he hit. He wonders if his handwriting has changed from a hundred years ago, or if it's always been this slanted, light print.

We made it to Tarrey Town before nightfall like I wanted and We made it to Tarrey Town before nightfall like I wanted and found the whole town decorated for a festival. I've never seen it looking so beautiful before. And the food was delicious! My favorite were the tiny cakes one of the older women from the town made. There was also enough wildberry wine for all of Hyrule to have their fill. Time even let Wind try some. He spit it right out!

I wasn't really interested in the festival at first, but Twilight insisted I join him and the others. I guess it wasn't so bad. As I said, the food was nice, and there were games to play too. Also... Twilight taught me how to dance tonight. It was pretty embarrassing at first. I know people were staring, especially since I kept stepping on him and tripping over my own feet. I did end up having fun, though. I wonder if he I knew how to do it before? Is that something the Knights of Hyrule had to know how to do? I can't really picture myself at a ball in some fancy tunic leading a noble lady in a waltz. But, then again, I have a hard time picturing myself doing any of the things people said I did before. If I did know how to dance, was I good at it? I bet I was. Seems like I used to be so much better at everything I did, before...

**

“Come on, it's easy. I'll show you what to do.”

Wild wrinkles his nose in annoyance-- and, admittedly, a little apprehension-- as he stares at the small crowd twirling around the fountain. Twilight normally doesn't try to push him out of his comfort zone, but he is weirdly determined tonight. The heroes had lucked out on showing up in Tarry Town on the night of the Goddess Festival. The small town is packed with people, travelers and residents alike roaming around the cramped stalls set up where the merchants' tables normally go, their faces all aglow with colorful lantern light and the setting sun. All sorts of things are for sale: study weapons with gleaming blades; beautiful clothing made from richly dyed fabrics; jars full of sweet and spicy jams and pickled vegetables; rice balls, roasted fish and vegetable skewers, meat pies; and what he was most excited for-- the small stall in the corner selling deserts. The smell of roasted apples dripping in honey had wafted across the breeze towards them when they first arrived, and all the heroes but Time and Warriors had gone rushing over. Wild's hands are still sticky from the warm honey and the three small sugary nutcakes he'd devoured.

Hudson and his wife, Rhondson, had done an amazing job getting the town decorated for the festival. There are flower wreaths on every door, with soft pink and white petals as big as Wild's hand; silk ribbons strung up between the light poles; and the fountain where the goddess statue sits is wrapped in delicate chains of flowers and feathers, and all around its base are colorful candles, their wax dripping down and pooling in swirls of reds, blues, and greens. Near the stalls where people are gathered to play games-- ring toss, fishing, and a shooting game using slingshots-- Rhondson has hung lanterns with glass panes the same shades as the candles. She must have made them herself. Wild recognizes her skilled handiwork. Hudson mentions to them, as they stand under a lantern shining with the green of a forest, that the main focus of the night is dancing around the goddess statue. A right proper way to pay tribute to her, he says, and most of the heroes agree with him. Especially Twilight, who seems positively delighted at the chance to spend the evening spinning hand-in-hand with someone. Time, on the other hand, is indifferent about celebrating a festival for Hylia, but he tells the others to go have some fun. He does look around at all the different stalls with them, he even picks up a few trinkets to bring home to Malon, but he refuses to join in on the dancing. Instead, he finds a place to sit back and watch as the others spin and dip and lift each other and the townsfolk around the fountain, the candle flames flickering with each brush of skirt and graceful twirl.

Sky is also sitting out the festivities. He'd said it was because he was tired from traveling all day, and that he'd never really liked dancing, but Wild thinks it's because he just wants to watch. Sky's face is lit up with an almost awestruck joy, like this moment is something memorable, and not just like any other festival you might see in Hyrule. Not that Wild has actually seen a lot of festivals since he woke up. He's heard stories about them though, and they all seem the same. Food, wine, flowers, games, and always dancing of some kind. The food he can get excited about, but everything else? Nothing worth making so much noise over, he thinks.

He might have been able to go on thinking that in peace, had he not opened his big mouth. One offhand comment after he saw Wind and Four dump their belongings onto one of the beds in the inn so they could race out and join the villagers dancing had been his downfall. Twilight had heard him and demanded an explanation. After Wild gave him one Twilight, looking personally offended by Wild's blasé attitude towards dancing, grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him back outside as well. Wild knows he must have looked like an idiot, spluttering and begging the older boy to let him go because he didn't want to-- didn't know how to-- dance. Twilight has assured him multiple times that that problem is easily fixable. And now he has Wild's right hand held firmly in his left, and their other hands grasping each other's shoulders.

“Now just kind of... skip to the side. Just make sure you follow the rhythm of the music,” Twilight says.

Wild opens his mouth to try and get out of this one more time, but the Rancher doesn't give him a chance. He pushes off, and the younger boy has no choice but to follow, else he'll fall face first into the dirt and he's already had his fill of embarrassment tonight. His movements are stiff compared to his friend's energetic ones. Twilight gives his hand a squeeze, and then without any other warning spins them in a quick circle. Wild lets out a squeak-- so much for not embarrassing himself anymore-- and almost stumbles. Twilight laughs, and holds him a little steadier. Wild glares at him, but that just makes his friend grin at him, bright and reckless.

At least the music is nice. Kass has somehow been recruited into playing his accordion for the festival. Wild wonders if the traveling Rito had just been passing through and volunteered his talents, or if he'd been hired by Hudson and Rhondson. In any case, Kass is going all out, the notes from his instrument bouncing happily across the town square. The song is upbeat, nothing Wild has heard before, and it brings to mind fairies and forest spirits and a tricky woods that likes to gobble up lost travelers and spit them back out near its mouth. Though it makes him dizzy, Wild searches for his other friends in the ring of dancers. Hyrule, Legend, and Warriors have asked some of the villagers to dance-- the Captain leading his partner in a much more graceful spin than he and Twilight had just done. Four and Wind are trying to keep up with the other dancers, but they keep tripping over each other's feet and breaking out into laughter that leaves them both winded and red-faced.

By the time the song ends, Twilight has successfully led him into two more spins without almost making him fall again. Wild thinks he might be free to go now, but Kass starts up another song and the dancers all push to get into a new formation. This time, the entire crowd loops their arms together so they form a single giant circle around the fountain. Across from them, Wild sees that Rhondson now stands between Wind and Four. She's clutching the shortest hero's hand in hers since their height difference makes it impossible for them to link arms. Hyrule and Legend are beside the Gorons Greyson and his younger brother, Pelison, and Warriors has found another villager to be his new dance partner.

Kass counts them off, and then everyone in the circle starts moving together. They dance in a loop around the fountain, much in the same way they were with the last song, except this time when the song reaches a crest Twilight doesn't lead him into a spin. Instead, he lets go of Wild's arm so the person on his other side-- Fyson, the Rito who sells arrows in town, he finally notices-- can yank him in the other direction. Wild panics for a moment, but then Twilight is right back at his side, slipping his arm around Wild's and easily cutting the Rito off before he gets too far away with the Champion. Wild realizes all the dancers are doing this-- trading partners back and forth before quickly jumping to get back in the circle. Four ends up with one of the villagers, Hyrule with Rhondson, Warriors with Legend, and Wind with Pelison. Wild is the only one to keep his original partner. It only takes a moment for him to realizes Twilight's done this on purpose. The older boy doesn't want him to feel overwhelmed or anxious. He might be pushing Wild into a bit of uncomfortableness with the dancing, but he's also still looking out for him. He's still making sure Wild is okay.

That realization makes the last few knots of tension leave Wild's shoulders. His mouth tilts up into a shy grin and he lets himself be led back into the circle. He stays with the others in the crowd of dancers for a long time, letting Twilight twirl and dip him whenever a song calls for it. He's exhausted by the time Kass plays the last note of the final song of the night. He's panting, and there's a pleasant ache in his legs from all the dancing. Twilight swings an arm around his shoulders and pulls him towards their friends. They collapse onto the ground beside Hyrule. The brunet hands them mugs of something strong and warm. Sky holds out two plates of palm-sized flaky buttery pies filled with savory spiced meat and gravy he and Time bought from one of the vendors. Wild digs in, his eagerness betraying how hungry is after all that moving around. Twilight laughs, but starts on his own portion with just as much enthusiasm. The chatter between their friends becomes a soothing background noise as Wild eats. Only once he's licking the last bit of gravy from his fork does the older boy beside him lean over to murmur something to him.

“Hey... sorry if I was a little pushy today.”

Wild sets his plate down onto the ground beside him. He grabs one of the bottles of wine near them and fills both his and Twilight's empty mugs, saying “it's okay.”

“No, I should have listened when you said you didn't want to dance. It's just...” Twilight hesitates.

“Just what?”

“Sometimes, you really remind me of Colin.”

Wild tilts his head, confused for a moment, before finally remembering. “Colin is your little brother, right?”

“Not by blood, but yea,” Twilight nods. “He was always really timid growing up, and he was terrified of trying new things. He used to get bullied by the other kids in my village a lot, so I think he was afraid if he tried something new, he would embarrass himself and just give them another reason to pick on him. I used to get him to try new stuff by holding his hand and doing it with him. The first time I got him to try jumping into the swimming hole in our village, he held onto my arm so hard I swear the marks he left lasted a whole week.”

Wild watches Twilight swish the wine in his mug back and forth for a minute, before he finally takes a drink. “When you said you didn't understand why everyone was making so much noise over getting to dance tonight, you sounded just like him. So I did what I would do with Colin. But I shouldn't have. I forgot for a minute that you weren't just saying it because you were afraid of embarrassing yourself, like he does.”

Wild nudges Twilight so the older boy will look at him. “It's okay, really,” he says with a soft smile. “I appreciate you worrying about making me uncomfortable, and I was at first, but I did have fun tonight.”

“Yea?”

Wild nods. Twilight gives him a happy hum, and then busies himself with drinking his wine. Wild considers the boy beside him. “Colin's lucky to have a brother like you.”

Twilight shrugs. “I just look out for him the way any older brother would.”

Something pricks at the back of Wild's mind. Not really a memory, no, just the feeling of being tired and happy just like this, and the flash of an image. A small kitchen, blonde hair, smaller hands held tightly by his own. It fades just as quickly as it came. Wild shudders, and when Twilight gives him a concerned look, he tries to blame it on the chill the night air has taken.

“I think we should all head back to the inn now,” Time says, getting to his feet. Some of the heroes let out soft complaints about not wanting to turn in yet, but none of them can hide how exhausted they really are after such a long day. They file into the building, and after a long debate decide that Wind and Four will take one of the two beds since they're the youngest, and Time and Twilight will take the other-- Time because he is the oldest, Twilight because the others can't help still being overcautious about the wounds he'd received a few weeks ago from the Shadow. The others spread out their bed things on the floor around the beds. Most everyone settles down to sleep, but Wild, Twilight, Time, and Wind decide to head upstairs to the balcony for a little more fresh air before they finally call it a night.

**

Wild finishes writing that last sentence, and then sets his journal onto the table so the last bit of ink can dry. Wind and Twilight had joined him and Time at the table a while ago. Wind fell asleep somewhere around Wild reminiscing about the linked-arm dance, his head pillowed on his arms. Time and Twilight are in deep conversation, their voices soft murmurs drifting lazily in the night air. Wild studies the Rancher's face in the gentle glow of lantern light. He'd meant what he said; Colin was a lucky kid. He doesn't think Twilight is just like “any other brother.” Twilight is special. He's thoughtful, he's protective, he listens-- but it's not just those things that make Wild feel this way. It's the way the Rancher's lips curl up in a gentle smile and the glimmer of pride that shines in his eyes when he talks about his little brother. It's the way Twilight could worry and apologize to him just because he was afraid he made Wild too uncomfortable. That type of care isn't something to be shrugged off. It's rare, and meaningful.

That tell-tale prick of a buried memory stings at the back of his mind again. Wild rubs the heel of his hands into his eyes. He's too tired to deal with this right now. He wills it to just go away, at least for the night. He'll try to pull it back tomorrow, maybe, if he can find a place private enough to deal with it. It doesn't always work-- he doesn't actually have control over his memories. They come back to him when they want-- but sometimes he can hold them off. It pulls at him again, and Wild sees that same kitchen, and those same small hands, but then someone scoots their chair back to stand up from the table. The harsh low sound of the chair scraping against the wooden floorboards chases away the memory. The retreating image leaves an empty feeling behind. Wild presses even harder against his eyes, until it hurts.

“It's late. We should get some rest,” he hears the Old Man say.

The feeling of someone clapping his shoulder makes Wild jump. He opens his eyes, blinking against the burst of spots across his vision. Twilight is looking at him, brow furrowed in concern. Wild fakes a yawn, and then gives him a sheepish smile.

“Sounds good to me,” he says. “I'm beat.”

Wild shuts off the lantern and gathers up his journal, ink, pen, and blanket while Time lifts the dozing Wind up into his arms. The four of them head back downstairs to the main floor of the inn. It's dark and quiet, the only noise the heavy even breaths of their friends. Time puts Wind down onto the bed the boy's sharing with Four and then he and Twilight get settled into the other one. Wild lays down onto his bedroll, but before he closes his eyes he looks over at Twilight. The colored lanterns Rhondson made are still hanging, so shafts of multicolored light are falling through the window and onto the older boy's face. He's looking right back at Wild, his mouth curving up in a sleepy smile.

“The next time I make you go dancing,” he whispers, “try not to step on me so much. I think you broke my toe with your big feet.”

Wild snorts, and then rolls over so he's not facing his friend anymore. “Good. Serves you right.”

Twilight's soft chuckle is melodic enough to drag the last bit of energy from Wild's body. His eyes start to drift shut and he relaxes into the warmth of his wool blankets as sleep comes to claim him. He hears Twilight say a quiet “goodnight” as the Rancher finally settles in to sleep.

“Goodnight,” he whispers back.

Chapter Text

The memory never resurfaces, no matter how many times Wild tries to bring it back. Even when he finds the most secluded spot possible in Tarrey Town and sits huddled in the crook of a large tree's branches for hours, he still can't even picture that damn kitchen in his mind. It doesn't make sense. He's never had a memory fight him like this. Usually, they come when they want. It doesn't matter if he's cooking, climbing, fighting-- they grab hold of him and refuse to let go. And if it's one of those rare moments where he's been able to keep one at bay, the next time he tries to call the memory back, he's always been able to. But this one... it's almost like it's waiting on something. For the life of him though, he can't figure out what that something is.

“Ready to go?” says a voice from behind him.

Wild almost drops what's in his hand-- his journal-- and spins around so fast he stumbles over his own feet. “Whoa! Sorry,” Warriors laughs, reaching out a hand to steady him. Wild brushes it away. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

“S'okay.” Wild shakes his head, letting out a slow breath to calm his racing heart. “I was just lost in my own thoughts. I didn't hear you come in.”

The Captain gives him an understanding nod. Wild watches as his eyes trail around the room, before finally dropping down to stare at the pile of things by the Champion's feet. The inn they've been staying at for nearly a week now is empty, except for them and the owner, and Wild is supposed to be packing his stuff back into his bag. Everyone else had finished doing so already, so it feels a little strange not to be surrounded by the cluster of all their belongings. He'd be done by now too, if his mind wouldn't keep drifting to that stupid memory. He wonders how long he's been standing there, staring off into space.

“Do you need help with your stuff?” Warriors asks.

Wild shuffles his feet, feeling just a little embarrassed. He hopes he wasn't holding the group up. “N-no. I'm almost done. Is, um, is everyone else ready to go?”

“Almost. Hyrule wandered off again, so the Old Man's out looking for him.”

Wild snorts. He can only imagine the earful his friend is going to receive once Time actually finds him. He bends down and, telling himself the mess he's about to make will just have to be a “future-him” problem, grabs his things and shoves them haphazardly into his magic bag. The last to go in are his pillow, journal, and the knife he uses to cut vegetables (why was that out?), so he straightens back up and buckles his bag around his waist. He turns back towards Warriors and almost blushes at the amused expression on the older boy's face. Thankfully, Warriors doesn't say anything. The leave the inn a few moments later, after saying a final goodbye to the innkeeper.

It's still really early. Nearly everyone in the village is still asleep. The sky is the brittle blue of dawn, the air and ground misty with dew. They find the rest of their group huddled around the gently bubbling fountain, yawning wide and with their hair and clothes mussed. Sky is sitting on the ground, head lolling onto his chest as he drifts off again. Wild sees Legend roll his eyes and give the older boy a swift kick. Sky jumps, spluttering out a curse. They all break out into laughter that sounds much too loud for such a quiet morning. Twilight reaches down and hooks his hands under Sky's arms, easily hauling the boy back to his feet.

“Look who I tracked down,” Warriors says, once everyone has settled again.

“About time,” Legend complains. “The rest of us were ready like a half hour ago.”

Wild feels that flutter of embarrassment again. “Oh, sorry--”

“Quit complaining,” Twilight interrupts, giving the back of the other teen's head a smack. “You know you were only ready so soon because the Captain packed your things for you.”

Legend's cheeks go pink. He scowls at Twilight, but the Rancher just ignores him so he can shoot Wild an easy grin. Wild tries to hide his smirk behind his hand as the Captain asks “any sign of the Old Man or our missing hero yet?”

“N-n-not yet,” Wind answers through a huge yawn.

“Seriously?” Warriors frowns. “Where in the hell could Hyrule have gone? This village isn't that big.”

“Which is why he left the village,” says a very annoyed voice. They all turn as one in the direction of the village's front gate. Time is walking towards them, followed by a sheepish Hyrule. Wild hears his friend mutter something about how he “wanted to see the ocean.” The others start grumbling at him for making them wait, but Wild just gives him a sympathetic look. If he'd known, he would have taken Hyrule down to the water sometime during their stay here.

**

Once everyone was accounted for, we left Tarrey Town. A traveler had shown up late last night telling anyone who would listen about a group of monsters they'd had the misfortune of running into, just before Foothill Stable, near the Maw of Death Mountain. He said he'd never seen beasts like these before; that they were more powerful and vicious than all the monsters in Hyrule combined. It sounds like more of the Shadow's infected, which means we need to deal with them right away, but I also kind of think he was embellishing to see if he could get a free night or two out of the inn-- he wouldn't be the first person to ever try that. We still told him we'd go check things out. He seemed relieved until the innkeeper reminded him he needed to pay his bill before claiming a bed. After that he was just annoyed.

Time was worried about how long it would take to get there. He suggested we go ahead and leave last night, but I told him the path in Akkala is really dangerous at night. You can run into the Yiga almost anywhere in Hyrule, but they especially like to attack travelers in the Akkala region, and the dark makes it harder to see through their disguises. I'm sure the nine of us could handle them just fine, but I'd rather not worry about every person we passed on our way. Besides, as long as we keep a steady pace, we should reach the area the man was talking about by evening-time-- sunset at the latest. I think Time's still a little worried, but I'm sure we'll be fine.

So far, everything has been quiet on the road-- monster-wise, at least. Our group, not so much. It feels like everyone is so damn loud today. I can't take it. And it's not their fault, I know that. I'm just so on edge. I feel like I can't breathe. It has to be my fault. It has to be the mem...

Wild pauses, pen hovering over the page of his journal. No, that's not what he wants to say. At least, that's not how he wants to say it. He crosses out most of the last paragraph and tries again.

So far, everything has been quiet on the road-- monster-wise, at least. Our group, not so much. It feels like everyone is so damn loud today. I can't take it. And it's not their fault, I know that. I'm just so on edge. I feel like I can't breathe. It has to be my fault. It has to be the mem... Which is good, because I've been really on edge today, ever since we left Tarrey Town. “On edge” isn't even the best way to describe it. I feel like I can't breathe, like someone has reached inside my chest and is squeezing my lungs as hard as they can. My nerves are frayed. Any time one of my friend's tries to talk to me, or they accidentally touch me, I want to flinch away. It's not their fault, I know that. They're not doing anything they wouldn't normally do. It's just...

I think it's the memory. It has to be, right? That's the only thing I've really been worried about all week. But if the memory is the cause of me feeling this way, I don't know how to fix it. I'm so stupid. I never should have pushed it away. I should have just sucked it up and let it take me wherever it wanted to. I should have--

“Aren't you going to eat anything?”

Wild looks up, startled, and sees Warriors frowning down at him. He self-consciously tucks his journal a little closer to him, in case the Captain's eyes start to wander.

“Uh... what?” he asks, a bit dumbly.

The older boy's frown deepens. “I asked if you're going to eat something? You skipped breakfast and you haven't had anything the entire time we've been sitting here, either.”

Here, being the Akkala Parade Ground ruins. The heroes had stopped around midday to rest their feet and take the time to munch on something. Except for Wild. As soon as he found a nice place to sit away from the others, (far enough he'd have some privacy, but not so far to worry Time) he'd pulled out his journal to start writing. He usually waited until the end of the day, but sometimes when he's feeling anxious or overwhelmed, writing what's going on in his head helps. It hasn't so far today, but it was worth trying.

Warriors is still staring at him, and the only thing Wild can do is look blankly back. This is the second time today the Captain has put him on the spot like this. He usually doesn't act like this, not with Wild, unless it involves the Champion not listening when they're in battle. But today--

“Stop being suck a fucking nag, Warriors! If he doesn't want to eat anything, then he doesn't have to.”

Warriors's head snaps up and he turns around to shoot Legend-- because of course it was Legend. He's always the one to start fights with the Captain-- a dirty look. “What did you call me?”

“A nag! You're so annoying with that shit!”

That's all it takes. Warriors forgets about Wild, and instead storms over to get in Legend's face. Wild watches Time jump up from where he'd been resting so he can grab both heroes by the collars of their tunics and bark at them not to start.

“I think that's our cue to get ready to go soon,” Twilight jokes. Wild jumps at the sound of his voice. Somehow he hadn't noticed the older boy had come to stand next to him.

“Why?” he asks. He checks the slate. They've only been here about twenty minutes. There was still a little time to spare before they needed to get moving again.

Twilight nods his head at Warriors and Legend, who are still glaring at each other-- silently though, to avoid another reprimand from their leader. “Because, those two idiots tend to stop trying to kill each other when we're actually moving around.”

The Rancher has a point. They pack up not too long after. Wild hangs towards the back of the group when they get started down the path again, trying as subtly as he can to put some distance between himself and his friends. Twilight falls back to walk with him at one point and ask if he's alright, but Wild just shakes his head and doesn't respond. Thankfully, Twilight knows him well enough to understand that means he doesn't want to talk about it. He leaves the Champion alone again after a whispered, “I'm here if you need me.”

As they continue down the road, Legend and Warriors's staring match somehow turns into the two of them playfully shoving each other around. How they can go from being at each other's throats to friendly teasing so quickly, Wild doesn't know, but he almost wishes they were still fighting. The two of them are even louder when they're getting along, and all that noise really isn't helping Wild's nerves.

He needs a distraction. Maybe... maybe he can try and pull the memory back, one more time. It hasn't worked all week, but at this point he's desperate. It's probably not the smartest idea, trying it when they're supposed to headed straight for a monster camp, but if it does work he knows the others will go on ahead while Twilight waits by his side. He thinks of that flash of memory again. At the time it had been mostly dull and out of focus, only small details standing out clearly. Unfortunately, time has only served to shroud even those in darkness. He knows he was in a kitchen, and that he'd been holding someone's hands, but that's it. There's nothing else he can pull at. He doesn't remember what the other person in the room looked like, or what color the kitchen cabinets were, or even if the air smelled like anything. All he has is the knowledge that at some point in his life, he was in that room.

Wild exhales roughly, and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, hard enough spots of light burst along the darkness behind his eyelids. A kitchen, someone's hands in his... A kitchen, someone's hands in his...

He hears light footsteps fall back to walk beside him. Their owner doesn't need to say anything. Wild could recognize the Traveler's lightsome way of walking anywhere.

“Hey,” the brunet mutters.

Wild lets his hands fall to his sides and opens his eyes, blinking against spots. “Hey.”

“Is everything okay?”

Wild opens his mouth to lie, but the words won't come. He lets out another breath, shaky this time, and then mumbles the truth. “Not really. No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really. No,” he repeats. Hyrule still looks worried, so Wild gives him a weak smile and tries changing the subject. “Did you actually get to see the ocean before Time found you this morning?”

Hyrule lights up at the question. “I didn't get the best view of it, but yes! It's so blue. How come the water's so blue?”

That throws Wild. He's been to the Traveler's Hyrule, and he doesn't think his water is any bluer than the other boy's, but he also doesn't think he's ever paid attention to that kind of thing before. He tries to come up with an answer. He vaguely remembers Zelda telling the kids in Hateno Village about water looking blue because of absorption and the light spectrum-- something along those lines, at least-- but he's not so sure he can explains things so easily like she does. “Uh... because--”

Mercifully, he's interrupted by a loud odd squawk. They both turn to look up the road and see Warriors, wheezing from laughter, trying to haul a red-faced Legend to his feet. The side of Legend's thigh that they can see is scraped and raw, beads of blood welling up and forming together to drip in thin rivulets down his skin. The scrapes don't seem to be bothering the pink-haired hero. He mostly just looks embarrassed.

“What happened?” Wild asks.

“Warriors pushed me down!” Legend grumbles.

“You tripped over your own feet!” the Captain says with a snort.

“That's because you pushed so damn hard!”

“I barely touched you!”

“Don't lie--”

“Enough!” Time snaps. Warriors and Legend flinch at his sharp tone. “I've had enough of the two of you bickering today. If you can't get along then just stay away from each other.”

Warriors looks away from their leader, reaching back down to pull the teen to his feet. Legend lets himself be hauled back up this time. Wild feels bad for them. He's been on the bad end of the Old Man's temper a few times himself.

“Want me to heal that?” Hyrule offers gently, but it's the Captain that answers.

“I caused it. I'll take care of it.”

They wait while Warriors digs in his bag for a spare linen cloth and one of the hearty elixirs Wild had made while they were staying in Tarrey Town. He pours a little on the cloth and then kneels down so he can swipe the damp cloth over the scrapes. Legend grimaces, but manages to hold still. Wild can't help but notice how careful the Captain is being. It's not like he needs to be. The injury is minor-- it honestly could have been left to heal on its own-- but even if it wasn't Legend is certainly capable of handling it himself. But Warriors does things like this sometimes, especially with their Vet. Yes, they're constantly snapping at each other, and they can get into an argument about almost anything, but there's always these kinds of moments that just leave Wild feeling confused. How do you go from fighting to gentle and caring? How does the Captain go from getting in Legend's face, to packing his bag for him and cleaning his cuts and scrapes?

A few minutes later, and the elixir has done its job. Legend's thigh is now injury-free. Warriors stuffs everything back into his bag and silently nods to their leader. They start moving again, and the lazy chatter picks back up. Wild lets the noise wash over him, trying to ignore that same tightness in his chest. It's definitely not a good time to try and pull that memory back, after all.

Turns out, Wild's prediction was right. They pass Foothill Stable shortly before sunset. Apparently, the traveler wasn't just embellishing for a free night's stay. One of the workers at the stable let's Wild know the monster camp they're looking for is barely a ten minute walk from the stable, and it is full of strangely powerful monsters. It's honestly a miracle the stable hasn't been attacked yet, what with the camp being so close by. The heroes hurry on. Night will be approaching soon, and they don't have time to waste.

“Um... that's not good, right?” Wind says when they arrive.

They all stare at the dark magic gate waiting ominously for them in the center of what is clearly an abandoned monster camp. The ground surrounding it is covered in animal bones and the squished remains of half-eaten fruit. The blackened logs of the campfire look like they were just recently put out. The air is stale and reeks of magic, the stench so thick Wild has to fight off a gag. Warriors steps forward, his eyes trailing over the flat edges of the portal.

“I think it's safe to assume an ambush is waiting for us on the other side,” he says.

“What should we do?” Twilight asks.

“Well, we can't all go through at the same time. The portal isn't wide enough for that, and even if it was we don't know if the magic can be overwhelmed with too many people trying to pass through it at once.”

“Yea, I'd prefer not dying from unstable magic today,” Legend jokes dryly.

“What about three at once?” Time suggests. “We've gone through that way before.”

The Captain nods. “I think that's the safest we can do. Everyone be on your guard, though. Who knows how many are waiting for us on the other side.”

Wild is with the last group to go through the gate. That awful pressure in his chest has moved up and now it feels like someone has got their hands around his throat. He doesn't usually go into a fight feeling coiled so tightly he's about to snap, but whatever has been looming over him all day seems to have moved in, close enough he swears he can feel it whispering in his ear. Sky and Hyrule are on either side of him, and Sky gives him an encouraging smile as they step through the gate together. Wild tries not to pay too much attention to the way the magic crashes into him like a wave, the way it feels like it's gripping his clothing and pulling him down. Instead, he focuses on Sky's sailcloth brushing against his arm and the perfumed scent that rises from the fabric. He thinks of how it cuts through the foul smell of dark magic, and lingers delicate and sweet.

The warm light of evening blinds him as they finally step out of the portal and into whatever Hyrule they've been transported to. He blinks as his eyes adjust and realizes they're in a forest-- an enormous forest-- and that the air has that same wet, green smell of his Lost Woods.

And then an arrow goes flying by his face, barely an inch away from his nose.

He whips around towards where it was shot from, drawing his sword and shield. The others who'd gone through the portal before him are fighting the group of monsters they'd been searching for. There's bokoblins (from both his and Wind's eras), moblins (from Sky's era), stalfos (he doesn't remember who first recognized them the first time they ever fought one), and lizalfos from his Hyrule. There must be almost thirty monsters surrounding them. Wild rushes forward, Sky and Hyrule at his heels. He brings his sword down on the first monster he reaches. Black blood splatters against his face as he cuts deeply into a Great Sea bokoblin's back. It falls to the ground. Twilight shoots him a grateful look, before turning around to slash at another monster.

“Watch the archer!” Warriors shouts. Wild shoves away a stalfos that had tried lunging at him, and then uses the free second to scan the crowd. He spots the monster in question at the edge of the battle, aiming its crude wooden bow towards their leader. Wild doesn't think; he just hurls his weapon at the creature, the blade spinning in a deadly, graceful arc. It hits its target, burying itself inside the monster's chest. The stalfos who'd attacked him earlier tries to take advantage of his being suddenly weaponless. Wild bashes his shield against it, and it stumbles back. He hears someone shout his name. He looks over to see Legend at the fallen archer's side. He pulls Wild's blade from the body and tosses it his way, before thrusting his own sword towards the moblin their Smithy is fighting. Wild catches his sword, just in time to block another attack by the stalfos.

He feels the heat of flames at his back. Hyrule must be using his magic. Wild waits for the stalfos to lunge again, but instead of blocking he drops to the ground and rolls around so he's behind the creature. He leaps to his feet and slashes his sword with all his might at its back. The force of the blow knocks it forward-- right into the Traveler's fire.

“Nice one! Twi' taught you that, right?” Hyrule calls.

“Sure did!” he yells back.

“You're supposed to turn when you jump up so there's more momentum when you swing your blade, but I suppose you did alright,” Twilight says, suddenly appearing by the Champion's side.

Wild rolls his eyes. “You can critique me later, when we're not fighting a damn horde.”

A few more enemies dealt with later, and the muscles in Wild's arms are starting to burn from overuse. His legs and feet ache from walking all day, and sweat is starting to bead along his hairline. He's just kicked a dead monster away from where he'd impaled it on his sword when he hears a growl behind him. He turns, shield raised, and blocks the heavy wooden club of the enemy bokoblin. Wild shoves it away, and then raises his own blade, about to bring it down on the monster's head. He can see a gap in the forest's canopy behind the bokoblin, and through it is the evening sky. The setting sun lights it up like a blaze of fire, all harsh light and so, so orange--

The doors of the kitchen cupboards are painted a multitude of colors: pastel green, soft lavender, and the obnoxiously bright orange of the sunset. There's--

“Wild!”

The shout tears him away from the vision, leaving behind an ache so strong his knees almost buckle. Wild pants, trying to focus his gaze on what's in front of him. He smells fire, and blood, and the stench of dark magic. His ears start to ring, but through that he can still hear the screeches of monsters and the worried calls of his friends. His arms burn from exertion, but one is still raised in the air, holding his sword skyward.

The furious growl of the bokoblin in front of him is what finally grounds him back to the present. Not quickly enough, though. Before he can bring his blade down a club is swung towards his face. He feels pain explode along his temple, and then his world goes dark.

Chapter Text

Wild sits by the fire, the Captain on one side and Twilight on the other, a cool damp rag pressed against the bruise on his forehead. He'd declined the potion Legend offered him earlier, and Hyrule's healing magic-- not out of any sense of stubbornness or pride. No, he's hoping the pain thumping along his face right now will keep his mind tethered to the present.

He'd woken up after the battle had already ended, more embarrassed than hurt. This is the second time he's been knocked unconscious during a fight recently. He can already hear the “let's not make a habit of this” lecture Time must be practicing in his head right now. At this point, it's well-deserved. He knows better than to be so careless.

“Hey,” Twilight says quietly.

Wild gives him a brief glance. “Yea?”

“Come take a walk with me.”

The older boy doesn't wait for an answer. Wild watches him get up and head for the edge of camp. According to Warriors, they were in his Hyrule-- Faron Woods, to be specific-- and even though the war he fought in was over, there were still a lot of monsters around. The Captain had said splitting up in his world wouldn't be a very good idea, so Wild looks across the campsite to gauge the Old Man's reaction. He narrows his eyes at Twilight's back, but he doesn't say anything, so Wild figures he must be alright with them leaving.

He gets up and follows. Twilight pulls his lantern out as soon as they're far enough away the light from the campfire no longer reaches them. Warriors had called this place a woods, and Wild remembers catching a glimpse of enormous trees when they'd first walked through the portal, but it's still unlike any woods Wild has ever been in. He smells green growing things, and can hear what sounds like a waterfall somewhere in the distance, but there's nothing around them. No thick underbrush, no rustle of leaves as animals slink along the ground. Speaking of the ground, it's hard, and from the harsh orange light of Twi's lantern, he can tell it's not dirt.

Twilight doesn't take him far from camp-- just far enough away the others won't be able to hear them. Twilight watches him, waiting. Wild scuffs his foot against the weird hard ground. “Did you need something?” he finally asks, when he can't take the quiet anymore.

The Rancher raises an eyebrow. “I feel like I should be asking you that.”

“What?”

“I know something's going on with you, Wild.”

Wild looks away. Dark, dark, and more dark. He wishes he could see something in this stupid woods so he could focus on that instead of the knowing look on Twilight's face. “I'm fine,” he lies, even though he knows Twilight doesn't believe him.

“You're not,” Twilight bites back. Wild's eyes snap back to him. The Rancher rubs at his temple and lets out a frustrated breath. “Sorry, I...” His hand falls back to his side, and he goes from looking annoyed, to worried. “I'm not trying to be pushy, but I can tell that something's been bothering you all week.”

Wild tenses. “No there hasn't--”

“Don't lie,” Twilight says. “I know you're lying. You don't have to do that with me.”

Wild scuffs his foot again, head down so he doesn't have to look at Twilight's face. He doesn't like the harsh shadows the lantern light casts on it, doesn't like how angular and sinister they make him appear. Those shadows belie the warm affection he can almost always hear in the older boy's voice. He doesn't have to lie to Twilight. This boy, Wild's perfect example of what he thinks a brother ought to be, will always hear him out.

“It wasn't anything serious...” he starts.

“You got hurt today,” Twilight points out.

Wild nods his head, as well as he can while actively trying to avoid his friend's gaze. Twilight is correct though, so he starts over. “I meant there wasn't anything wrong today, exactly. I just... I had a memory.”

Twilight's eyes narrow in concern. “Oh... Was it a bad one?”

“No-- I mean, I don't know.”

“You don't know if it was bad or not?”

“No...” and suddenly, Wild can't stop himself. “No, because the damn thing was gone before I even really got a chance to see it. I don't even know what the hell it was supposed to be about. And I can't help but think it's my fault it went away so fast because I had a memory at the festival too, and I pushed it away. Ever since then, I haven't felt right. I know I should have said something to you all, but I'm just used to dealing with this kind of stuff on my own. I never thought I'd be stupid enough to let myself get hurt because of it though!”

“Whoa, whoa,” Twilight says calmly. He steps closer to Wild, his free hand raised like he wants to take Wild by the shoulder. He doesn't though, he just lets that hand fall until it rests limply by his side again. Wild feels a rush of grateful affection for the older boy. He really doesn't want to be touched right now. “I don't want to hear you call yourself stupid. You're not stupid. Just... take me back to the beginning, so I can understand everything. You said you had a memory at the festival, but you pushed it away?”

So Wild tells him. He tells him about sitting beside him during the Goddess Festival, that first prick of memory he felt when he was full and happy and warm and wine-drunk. He tells him how he saw it again when they were on the balcony with Time and Wind, and how he'd pushed it away, too sleepy and too content with how the night had been going to deal with whatever it may have been. He says he thought he could just force it back the next day, but it didn't work. Twilight is confused, because he didn't know that was even an option for Wild, but he tells the older boy pushing his memories away rarely works, but when he does manage it, they always come back. Except this time. This time, it's like it's been locked away, and ever since he's felt this awful tightness in his chest-- like the memory is choking him from the inside. He says he wants nothing more than to just bring it back, to get whatever it is his mind wants to remember over with. He doesn't want to be worrying about it coming to him during a fight. He doesn't want to scare the others by getting hurt again.

“What exactly did you see, that first time, I mean?” Twilight asks.

Wild shrugs. “I honestly couldn't tell you. I know I was in a kitchen, but that's about it. It's been so long since I saw it I guess any other details have kind of faded away.”

“What about during the fight?”

“Uh... just a kitchen cupboard.”

“Really? No other details?”

Wild thinks. “I saw the color of the cupboard.”

“Okay,” Twilight says, sounding hopeful. “What color was it?”

“I really don't think that's important, Twi',” Wild says with a snort.

“Humor me.”

“Fine,” Wild grumbles as he rolls his eyes. He tries conjuring up the cupboard in his mind. It was the doors that had stood out to him, wasn't it? “Um... It was...”

Nothing. Wild's mind remains blank. His mouth is hanging open, like some big confused fish, but no matter how hard he thinks, no words come out. He knows he saw the color of the cupboard doors... didn't he?

“Wild?” Twilight presses at the Champion's silence.

“I... I don't...”

“What? What's wrong?”

A wave of panic crashes in to Wild. He lets out a soft, strangled whine as it swallows him. “I-- I don't remember! I just saw it, I know I did, but I can't-- why can't I remember!”

The lantern crashes to the ground, the light flickering dangerously, but somehow managing to stay lit. Twilight does grab him by the shoulders now, giving him a rough shake until Wild grabs him by the forearms and meets his eyes. “Calm down,” Twilight orders, his own voice solid and smooth, like there really isn't anything worth panicking over. “Everything's alright.”

“B-but I--”

“Was just hit in the head. Okay? Your injury probably knocked that little bit of memory away.”

“I've been hit in the head loads of times and it's never made me forget anything!”

Twilight raises an eyebrow. “Really? You've never woken up afterwards and wondered what happened?”

“Well, uh,” Wild says, and the panic he felt starts to ebb away as he thinks. “I suppose... once or twice...”

“Thank you for proving my point,” the older boy says matter-of-factually. “Look, you were only out of it for like, two seconds before you got hit in the head. That probably wasn't enough time for any details to stick, even without a head injury. You don't have anything to worry about.”

Wild wants to believe him, and a small part of him does know he's making sense, but he can't help but think about that first memory, and how everything he saw then is lost to him now too. What if there's something wrong with him? What if nothing he remembers about his past ever sticks with him again?

“You're probably right,” he lies quietly. It's better than letting himself continue along that last train of thought. He fidgets under the other boy's hold. Twilight drops his hands with a mumbled apology. Wild gets the feeling Twilight knows he's lying again, but he doesn't seem to want to call him out on it this time. “We should probably get back to the others. Otherwise, the Old Man might send out a search party.”

Twilight snorts and says, “yea, okay,” and then he's reaching down to pick up his lantern. When he moves to head back towards camp, Wild reaches out to stop him. Twilight looks down at his arm in surprise. Wild isn't usually the one to initiate any kind of touch, even something as simple as this.

“Will you...” he hesitates. “Will you promise not to say anything to the others about the memory? Please?”

“Of course,” Twilight says immediately. Then he asks, “How come?”

“I just don't want anyone else worrying about me.”

“I hate to break it to you, but they probably already are. I won't say anything to them though. Promise.”

**

Is something happening to me? I wasn't worried when I realized I forgot the details from that first bit of memory, but now... I think maybe I should have been. I wish I could just believe Twi'. How easy would it be if I could just blame getting hit in the head as the reason I forgot. I can't though. I know it wasn't that bad of an injury. Even if it was, wouldn't I have forgotten everything if that was the cause? Why is it just the color of the cupboard doors? It makes no sense to me that I know I saw the cupboard, but I can't picture it in my mind.

I've got to stop obsessing over this tonight. It's late, and I'm the only one still awake besides Four. He's on watch for the next few hours. He's already tried to scold me once for writing in my journal instead of trying to sleep. He says I'll be exhausted come time to break camp, but I can't help it. I'm too keyed up to sleep right now. I wish I could fall asleep as easily as Sky. As soon as his head hits the pillow, he's out.

Warriors said he thinks we should make for his Castle Town. He did say there was a village somewhere in Faron Woods, but he also said he's terrible at navigating these woods. He's worried if he tries to take us there, he might get us lost. He does think he can find the main road easily enough though, so hopefully we'll be on our way to Castle Town by tomorrow afternoon. Hyrule was definitely disappointed when he realized we won't get to explore much out here, and usually I'd feel the same, but this memory issue has got me frazzled. I'd rather just be safe in a town somewhere. The longer we're out here in the open, the more likely we are to get attacked again. What if what happened earlier happens again? I can't be worried about spacing out during a fight. I don't want to be a hindrance to our group. If we're in Castle Town, then I don't have to worry about causing my friends any trouble. The only thing I need to worry about there, is all the people. I don't really like crowds.

**

Four was right.

He should have slept.

Wild tries to hide another huge yawn as they walk through the woods. It's much prettier here during the daytime. Wild was right to call the trees here enormous, but even that wasn't accurate enough. They are giants. They stand taller than he can comprehend, as thick as castles, reaching out with Hinox-sized branches to shield them from the sun above. The ground isn't actually the ground. They walk along the stilt-like roots of the trees, and in the spaces between these almost mystical plants, huge flat mushrooms grow, like bridges connecting them from one tree to another. The eight of them had stood gaping down at the edge of the root they woke up on, while Warriors stood behind, looking especially pleased they'd found something about his world so enchanting. None of them could help it though, because the roots that didn't reach out and twist around the other trees in this strange path-like way reached down into a foggy abyss, no end in sight. It looked like they were floating above the clouds.

“The ground is down there,” Warriors had said. “It's just such a bother climbing down, and the fog is so thick anyone who tries gets lost. It's much easier to use the roots as the road. Just don't, you know, fall off the edge.”

That was a chilling thought. They'd all scurried back to the middle of the “road” ready to move on as quickly and safely as possible. Warriors snorted at their reaction, but he did seem cautious as he led them away. Wild made sure to snap a photo with his slate of this eerie beauty before he followed after his friends though. Twilight had peered over his shoulder to see it as they walked.

It's a calm morning. Everyone is silent as they walk. Wild assumes it's because no one wants to break the spell of such a strange forest. He already feels dead on his feet from staying up all night, but at least he doesn't have to exert any more effort trying to keep up a conversation with anyone. They follow Warriors across more mushroom bridges and along the tree roots. Wild notices they're steadily going up, the mist at the bottom getting further and further away. He wishes Zelda was here to see this place. She'd probably want to stay for days, marveling at the trees and wondering how such a forest came to be. Was it just some strange bit of nature, or did the old Goddesses get careless when they'd carved the earth and use too much of their magic?

Warriors stops. The road splits off, one part of the root going left up the next tree, the other part going right. Wild watches him pace back and forth for a moment, brow furrowed.

“Don't tell me you got us lost?” Legend asks, shooting the Captain a rude look.

Warriors stops walking and then, without looking, reaches behind him to grab Legend. He's so quick, the boy has no time to react. Warriors pulls him forward and traps him in a headlock. “Hush you,” he says as Legend screeches and struggles, his blue hat falling to the ground. “I'm trying to think.”

“Get the hell off me!” Legend shouts, but it's lost under the roar of laughter from the others.

“I've never met two people who are so terrible at getting along,” Wild jokes quietly to Twilight.

Twilight shoots him a grin. “They get along just fine.”

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do. Actually, they remind me of two brothers I know from my village. They're always fighting like that.”

Wild watches his friends for a moment. Legend is trying to stomp on the Captain's foot so he'll let him go. Warriors can't seem to stop laughing. “You... you really think that is getting along?”

“Yea! Fighting is just part of having a sibling. You should have seen some of the fights Colin and I have gotten into over the years.”

“You fought with Colin? The sweet little brother you had to protect from bullies?”

“Hey, he always started it,” Twilight says with a huff. “He was always taking my stuff.”

Wild snorts. “Is that so?”

Time, finally fed up with their shenanigans, pulls Warriors and Legend apart. He asks the Captain if he knows which way they should be going, to which he's told yes, Warriors was only trying to remember which path was the shortcut through the rest of the forest and which one took them the longer way around. He finally picks a path and the heroes get moving again.

It's midday by the time Warriors shortcut leads them to the main road in and out of the forest. Wild can only tell it's the road by the clumsily nailed sign that points them in the direction of Hyrule Field. Time calls for them to stop and rest, and for everyone to go ahead and check their supplies so they'll know exactly what they'll need to replenish once they reach the town. Wild plops down at the base of the large tree this root is next to and pulls out his slate. He has plenty of hearty elixirs, and ones for stamina too, but he sees he's running low on arrows. Their food supply is also looking a little bare-- at least of the things he can't easily forage or hunt for: milk, rice, flour, and butter, to name a few. He should probably try and look for some more ink as well, but if he doesn't find it in Castle Town it's really not that big of a--

Crash!

“Wha-- I told you not to touch that!”

“I was jus'--”

“Oh, shit! Sorry!” Four swears. Wild blinks, and then looks over at the younger boy. Four is bent over, carefully picking up shards of glass from the empty bottle he'd apparently dropped. Wild's gaze drops back down to his slate. What was that? he wonders.

“It's not a big deal,” he hears Time say. “Just be careful not to cut yourself.”

Someone nudges Wild with their boot. He looks up again and sees Twilight standing over him. “You okay?” he asks.

“Yea,” Wild says, but Twilight doesn't look like he believes him. To be honest, Wild isn't sure whether that was a lie or not.

The sun has almost set by the time they reach Castle Town. Warriors leads them straight to the castle barracks, and then leaves the rest of them alone only long enough to find someone he can talk to about lending them rooms for a few days. They have to double up, which is fine, and Wild is relieved to find out he's going to share with Twilight. At least if anything weird happens while they're here, Twi' already knows about the memory. The room they're staying in is kind of small. There's stone walls and flooring, and two narrow cots shoved against either wall. There's a single window that looks out onto the yard, with heavy blue curtains and a rickety table under it with a rusty lantern. The blankets on the cot are a little scratchy, and the pillows lumpy, but it's better than sleeping on the hard ground. It smells kind of musty, too. Wild unbuckles his belongings and sets them aside. He plops down onto the cot and then lets himself fall back until he's sprawled horizontal across it. He could fall asleep just like this-- forget dinner or waiting for the others to get settled in. Warriors went to go talk to his Zelda and Impa anyway, so who knows when he'll be back. He might as well get some sleep.

A foot kicks his shin, so Wild glares up at Twilight. He's standing over him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Yes?” Wild asks.

“Are you going to tell me the truth now, or am I going to have to bug you all night until you do?”

Wild wants to roll away from him, but he didn't exactly choose the best position for doing so. “What do you mean?” he asks instead.

“Earlier today...” Twilight prompts.

Wild lets out a sigh. He should have know the older boy wasn't going to drop it. “I wasn't lying when I said I was okay.”

“But?”

“But... I'm also not okay, if that makes any sense.”

“What happened?”

Wild sits up with an exhausted groan. Twilight finally stops looming and sits down onto his own bed. “I had a... I don't know, a flash of memory, I guess?”

“What do you mean you guess?”

Wild shrugs. “I was just sitting there, going through my things, when Four dropped that bottle. When I heard the crash, I don't know.... It's like I remembered voices, or something.”

Twilight studies him for a moment, frowning. “Is that how it usually happens for you?”

“How what happens?”

“Remembering,” Twilight explains. “Does something always have to trigger it? I know from that time at the river, you said you were just watching the water when you suddenly remembered that day you went swimming, but this time it was just a noise.”

“Kind of,” Wild says. “A lot of time, it's just about being in a certain place or seeing something that reminds me of my past. There have been other times where someone has said something that brings a memory back to me, but that doesn't happen all that often.”

“So this time it was, what, the bottle breaking?”

“I guess so.” Wild rubs the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I'm not really sure.”

“Did the memory have something to do with what you saw at the festival?” Twilight asks.

“I don't know. I don't really remember what I saw at the festival. I'm pretty sure I didn't hear any voices. For all I know, this could be something else entirely.”

Twilight leans back on his palms, his gaze lifting to the ceiling as he lets out a long sigh. Wild watches him for a moment before asking, “Why do you want to know?”

“Well,” he starts, looking back at Wild, “I've been thinks ever since we talked last night. You said you tried pulling the memory back on your own after the festival, but it didn't work. Right?” After Wild nods, he continues. “Okay, and you said that wasn't normal. You said they always came back before.”

“They do, or did, I guess.”

“Right. And the memory during the fight, what caused that?”

“Um... I noticed the sun was setting.”

Twilight frowns. “Well, that doesn't really give me a lot to go on, but it was evening time during the festival, so it still could be related.”

“What's related?”

“Your memories. I'm thinking... what if this memory-- the whole thing, not just the bits and pieces you've seen and heard-- needs to be brought on by something else. What if it won't come to you without a certain sound or sight or something. Maybe you couldn't bring it back on your own in Tarrey Town because you didn't have what you need to trigger it again. Maybe if we can figure out what exactly brought it on in the first place, we can replicate that and help you remember it.”

Wild feels a warmth bloom in his chest at the word “we.” It feels a lot like that wonderfully content feeling he had on the inn's balcony. Thank Hylia for ever giving him the chance to meet Twilight. He doesn't know what he'd do if he didn't have him by his side.

“You really think that will work?” he says softly.

“I can't say for certain,” Twilight says. He gives Wild a wide, reassuring smile. “But, I do believe it's our best shot.”

**

I'm trying to be quiet as I write this. Twilight's a pretty light sleeper, and I'd hate to wake him. Warriors came back to grab us and take us to the dining hall to eat, so we never got the chance to finish our conversation. I was going to bring up what he'd said when we got back, but Twi' practically passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. I can barely keep my eyes open myself, but I wanted to write this down before I go to sleep.

I think... I think Twilight's plan could actually work. I've never had to “recreate” a scenario that triggered one of my memories before, but it makes sense. It's actually such a simple idea, I can't believe I never thought of it myself. What was it that brought the memory on in the first place? It had to be something about the Goddess Festival, right? I can't exactly throw another festival just for the hell of it, though. I did dance a lot that night...

Yea, no way. I'd rather kiss a lizalfos than ask Twilight to dance with me again. I don't care how much fun I had. Hylia, I can already hear the others laughing at us as that big lug tries twirling me around the campfire. I bet he'd even ask Sky to play his harp for us. I could seriously die of embarrassment just thinking about it. No, I'll think of something else. There's got to be something else about that night that will work...

If When this works, I need to make sure I see the whole memory through. I'm tired of this tightness in my chest and the stupid flashes I keep seeing. Also, I don't want to worry my friends more than I already have. Maybe if I'm lucky, we can think of something to trigger it while we're out shopping for supplies tomorrow. If just a sunset brought it on, it shouldn't be too hard to find something to help me see the entire thing. Right?

Chapter Text

“Well, this isn't working.”

Twilight frowns at him. “We've barely tried anything yet! Be more patient!”

Wild rolls his eyes. As if patience were possible in a place like this. The market district in Warriors' Castle Town is packed with people-- vendors and shoppers, young and old, and honestly, Wild wouldn't be surprised if the entire town was crammed onto this one long narrow street right now. Both sides of the cobble-stoned street is lined with stalls, their brightly colored pennants swaying in the slight breeze. There is a group of Zora fishmongers shouting at passerby and accusing each other of stealing customers, several families from farms outside the town's walls pushing their produce and cheese and milk on anyone who got near, merchants selling bolts of silk, ribbon and thread, silvery trinkets, and hand-bound books piled carefully in old milk crates. Two huge Gorons have three stalls shoved together in a sunny spot, most likely so they could spread out their gems and ore and metalwork in the light and let their shine draw customers near. The stall next to the one he and Twilight are at is covered in flower bouquets. They're pretty, but their heady fragrance is giving Wild one hell of a headache. Twilight has just finished up buying potions from a grumpy woman with beady eyes and a long nose-- Wild still thinks she might be an actual witch-- and that was only after they argued for ten minutes over the outrageous price she tried to charge them. The man who sold them arrows that morning accused them of being cheapskates and Wild has had to stop pickpockets from grabbing his bag twice. All in all, Wild is done. It's gotten hotter the more the day has gone on. He feels grubby with sweat and the dust of the street. Nothing they've done today has come close to triggering a memory. He's starting to doubt that anything here will. Certainly not the red-faced butcher in a stained tunic Twilight is talking to now.

“Do you know what we have here, laddie?” the butcher asks, giving the raw bird quarters on the counter in front of him a smack.

“Salmonella?” Wild says, before he can stop himself.

Twilight's elbow digs into his side, hard, though Wild doesn't miss the snort of laughter the older boy tries to disguise as a cough. The butcher glares at Wild, but the rising heat of the day and the constant press of bodies around him has stripped him of every ounce of care. Wild just gives the man a mild look until Twilight makes up an excuse and pulls the Champion away from the stall without buying anything.

“How about we take a break from shopping?” Twilight suggests once they're farther up the street.

“Haven't we gotten everything we were supposed to? Maybe we should just go back to the barracks.”

Twilight sighs. “We're done with our list, yea. I don't want to head back just yet, though. There's got to be something else here that would work.”

Wild wants to argue, but he knows Twilight is right. Despite how much he hates it, the market is a good idea. There had been plenty of stalls at the Goddess Festival in Tarrey Town, and a lot more people than the little town usually sees. Even though Wild knows he hadn't been near any of the stalls when he had that first brush with the memory, there might have been something one of his friends bought that caught his eye and brought the whole thing on. He remembers Sky bought food, and someone bought wine, but he can't say for sure whether he saw anything else. He remembers Twilight had been talking about teaching Colin to swim (why were they talking about that again?) and there might have been something else, but if Wild is being completely honest with himself, his memory of the festival stops right about there. He thinks he might have been a little more drunk that night than he'd previously thought. The entire night isn't gone, of course not, he knows better than that, but parts are definitely shrouded in a muzzy, wine-soaked haze. Obviously, he knows he spent most of that evening dancing, and he remembers watching Wind and Twi' play around on the balcony while he wrote in his journal, but that's it. If someone said something to him, or he saw something else that triggered the memory, he doesn't know what it could possibly be. Which kind of makes their entire plan fall apart. If he can't remember exactly what happened the night of the festival, they're going to have a tough time recreating it.

“Let's go this way,” Twilight suggests suddenly, pointing up the street.

“Why?”

“I hear music.”

“Uh, okay?”

Twilight gives him that don't be stupid look he's been trying to perfect over the last couple weeks. “It's worth a try, isn't it? You're friend Kass was playing his accordion that night. Maybe the music caused the memory.”

That actually sounds like a pretty good idea. Kass is always playing a mix of newer songs and old ones from before the Calamity. He might have played something Wild's subconscious recognized. He motions for his friend to lead the way, and then he follows Twilight through the crowd. It takes a moment of concentration for him to hear the music too. The sound gets louder and louder the longer they walk, until finally Twilight stops at a group of people standing in a half-circle around the mouth of an alley. There's a troupe in front of them, dressed in bright greens and yellows and blues, playing something fast and cheery on well-loved instruments. Wild likes the sound of it, but after just a few moments he knows he doesn't recognize the song. Twilight pulls him towards the wall of the building closest to them so they can watch for a while without being bumped around by the other people at the market. After a few songs pass, Twilight disappears after a mumbled, “be right back.” He returns a while later looking ruffled, but pleased with himself. He's carrying a paper-wrapped bundle in his hands that even over the sharp, bitter smell of so many bodies around them, smells divine. Twilight unwraps the bundle and hands Wild one of the items inside-- a sweet, pumpkin-filled pastry with a sticky chocolate glaze. They enjoy their snack as the troupes music continues to drift all around them. The crowd at the alley has grown and shrunk with each passing song, certain ones drawing more people to the musicians over others. Wild likes the music, and he wishes Kass were here to hear them play, but no matter how long they stand there, none of the songs seem familiar to him.

“Nothing, huh?” Twilight says when he looks over at Wild.

“Nope,” the Champion answers with a sigh, shaking his head.

They drop some rupees into a box at the conductor's feet and make their way back to the barracks. Wild is disappointed at how unsuccessful the day has been so far, but he doesn't want to focus on that. Instead, he spends the rest of the evening with his friends. They eat together in the hall-- venison with butter and Hyrulian herbs, mushrooms, wild greens, and carrots tossed in honey and salt, thick slices of wheat bread. Wild is so full by the time they finish, he wants to just go back to his room and nap. Warriors and Hyrule insist on dragging him out onto the training grounds to spar, though. They spend hours outside, until the sun dips below the town walls, until Wild's muscles burn in that pleasant way after a day well spent. Hyrule tosses an arm over his shoulders as they follow Warriors to the barracks' bathhouses to scrub off the sweat and grime. It comes as no surprise that when they return to the to their rooms that night, after the exhaustion of fighting has settled inside him and the heat of the bath water has clung to his skin leaving him pink and warm, that as soon as his head hits his pillow, he's fast asleep.

Time had hoped by the next morning they'd have at least a general direction to continue in, but when the heroes open their eyes, they are greeted by a sky as dark as the black blood of cursed monsters and the streets of Castle Town slick from the sheets of rain pouring down. Instead of a small group of them scouting the surrounding area for any sign of their elusive shadow, they all stay inside the dry, warm (mostly so) safety of the barracks. Wild has never liked just sitting around, so he eventually goes wandering. When he first heard they would be staying at the castle barracks, Wild had pictured a grand building with impressive rooms full of ornate shields and fine weapons. There are weapons here, but they're simple swords and spears, better used for guard duty and training in the small arena outside. The rooms are sparse and impersonal. Every soldier sleeps in a room nearly identical to the ones around it. He sees a few differences when he peeks inside-- books and photos and little knickknacks he assumes the soldiers families have sent to them-- but he doesn't want to get in trouble for snooping so he quickly moves on to the rooms Warriors told them they're allowed to be in. The hallways are a little confusing since they all look the same-- stone walls and floors, old iron lanterns and plain blue tapestries bearing the royal crest. He eventually finds his way to the dining hall again. It's crowded with soldiers hiding out from the rain, so Wild quickly leaves. The armory is off limits, and there's no point in going to the bath house or the infirmary since he doesn't need either. So, disappointed and bored, he heads back to the room he shares with Twilight. When he gets there, he digs through his friend's things until he finds the book Twilight had bought yesterday. It's about farm animals and growing your own vegetables and Wild really isn't all that interested in it, but it's better than nothing. He sprawls out on the bed and starts reading.

At some point during the chapter on companion plants for pumpkins, Wind comes into the room, followed by Warriors, Legend, and Four. “Is the rain ever going to stop?” the youngest boy whines. He flops onto Twilight's empty bed and then, rather dramatically, slides off until he's lying like a lump on the floor.

Wild snorts. He leans over so he can look up through the room's single window at the sky. “Judging by those clouds, I'm thinking it won't be any time soon.”

Wind makes a noise like his entire world has just ended. Warriors chuckles and nudges the Sailor with the toe of his boot. “If we're not entertaining enough for you, you can always go run laps in the mud with the other soldiers who complained today.”

His words are punctuated by a loud BOOM of thunder. Wind lifts his head up just enough so he can glance back and forth from the window to the Captain. “Uh, yea, no thanks.”

Warriors and Four laugh, but Wild's attention is on Legend. He'd flinched rather hard at the thunder, and is now standing stiff with his shoulders hunched and his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Everything alright, Legend?” Wild asks.

Legend's face scrunches into a scowl. He opens his mouth, but before he can answer, Warriors says, breezily, “he's just fine,” and then he turns and ruffles the younger boy's hair, knocking his cap off onto the floor.

The younger boy smacks the Captain's hand away. “Can't you annoy someone else for a change?”

“No. Besides, you're the one who followed me in here. If you didn't want to be bothered, you should have waited for me out in the hall.”

Legend says something back-- something rude, for sure-- but Wild doesn't hear it. He's too busy thinking about what Twilight said the other day, about how Warriors and Legend remind him of two brothers back in his village. When Wild thinks of brothers, he pictures Twi', whose stories about Colin usually involve him taking care of the boy. Wind, too, is someone he pictures. He knows one of Wind's favorite people is his little sister. He never thinks of arguing, and pushing each other around, and trading insults. Maybe he's just not the best judge of what it means to be a sibling-- he's almost a hundred percent positive he was an only child. He does know that blood isn't what matters. Twilight was adopted into his father, Rusl's, family when he was orphaned at a young age, and he's said that from that day, they've never treated him like anything but their eldest son. That's what matters. It's the care and love you show someone that makes them family. He carries that knowledge deep in his bones, and he feels it solidify and grow every time Twilight stays by his side during a memory, or pulls him to his feet after a battle.

“Come on, Wind,” Four says, interrupting Wild's train of thought. “Get up and put on your cloak. I want to send a letter to my grandfather and you're supposed to write Aryll back.”

Wind sticks his hands up into the air, a silent insistence that the older boy help him. Four lets out a fond sigh, and then reaches down to grab him--

smaller hands, held tightly by his own

--and pull him to his feet. Wild blinks, a shiver racing down his spine that has nothing to do with the chill creeping in from the window. He feels the wisp of memory start to retreat, as if someone had carelessly brushed it away like you would a bit of smoke.

“--with us, Wild?” Warriors asks.

Wild looks up at him, blankly. He'd completely missed what the Captain had said. “W-what?”

“We're going into Castle Town and we wanted to know if you wanted to come with us.”

“In the rain?”

Warriors laughs. “Better than just sitting around all day! I told Four I'd show him the Post Office and Legend wants to go see the Fortune Teller.”

“Why?”

“Why wouldn't I?” Legend huffs. He pulls his cap back on after smacking it against his knee to knock any dust off. “They can give some pretty helpful advice sometimes.”

Well, that's certainly not something he'd expect from Legend. Wild nods absentmindedly, brushing that new bit of information aside as he says to the Captain, “Maybe next time. I was about to get up and go find Twilight. Have you seen him?”

“Hm... stables, I think. At least, he was heading in that direction the last time I saw him.”

Wild says goodbye to his friends and then shoves on his boots and throws his cloak over his shoulders so he can hunt down the Rancher. The courtyard of the barracks is muddy and gross. Wild slips through the small gate that leads to the stables. Since the barracks aren't in the town proper, the paths leading to the different buildings are dirt instead of cobblestone. Wild slips as he walks up a slight incline, barely avoiding face-planting into the muck by catching himself on the old wooden fence lining the path. The rain is coming down heavier, if that's even possible. The wet chill of it is starting to sink through the fabric of his cloak. It's a relief when he pushes the doors to the stable open. The damp air in here is just as cold as outside, but at least it's dry. The scent of animal and hay fills his nose, but there is a familiarness to it that almost makes it pleasant. He finds Twilight at Epona's borrowed stall, feeding her an apple.

“Hey,” Wild calls. He pulls his cloak off and tosses it over the top of the door to an empty stall. It makes a nasty squelching sound when it hits the wood.

“Damn, did you swim here?” Twilight asks, looking from the dripping cloak to Wild's muddy boots.

“Practically,” the Champion grumbles. He walks over so he can give Epona a pat.

“Finally got tired of hiding from the rain, huh?”

“Oh, shut up. I was reading,” Wild says, rolling his eyes. He runs his fingers over Epona's soft coat. She swings her head towards him so she can nuzzle the side of his face.

Twilight smiles at his horse, and gives her neck a gentle pat. “Just taking a break, then?”

“No...” He hesitates for just a moment. “I... I think I remembered something.”

Twilight's eyes go wide with surprise. “Wait, really? What?”

Wild shakes his head. “Nothing much, honestly. I just remembered holding someone's hands.”

“That's it?”

“Yea. It only lasted for a second, but...” Wild scuffs his boot across the floor of the stable and mumbles, “that's something. Right?”

“Of course it is,” Twilight says, with all the confidence of a man who is an expert in helping people with amnesia. Then again, Wild isn't the first friend the Rancher has helped get back lost memories, so maybe that's exactly what he is. Twilight turns to lean against the stall door. His brow is furrowed as he says, “let me get this straight. So far, you remembered holding someone's hands, a kitchen, voices-- actually, what were they saying? I don't think I ever asked.”

“Um...” Wild thinks, but after a few seconds of his mind being utterly blank, he realizes nothing is going to come to him. All at once, the room feels too small. That awful choking feeling is back. He wishes he were out in the rain, where at least the biting chill and the squelch of mud beneath his boots might help him feel grounded in this moment, instead of like all the air has left and he's suffocating. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes, hard. “I don't-- I can't--”

Twilight grabs him by his shoulders and gives them a firm, almost painful squeeze. “Hey. Listen to me. It's okay. You're okay. Now, I need you to take a deep breath for me.”

Wild tries, but it takes a few attempts before it feels like he's gotten any air in his lungs. Twilight waits until he's managed a few calming breaths before speaking again. “Alright. First thing first, we're going back to the barracks.”

“Why?”

“You're going to write down what you saw in that journal of yours.” At Wild's confused look, he explains. “It's something my friend used to do. She was struggling to keep the bits and pieces she'd remembered in order, so she started writing them down. That way, when she looked back on them, she could piece them together into some sort of sense. I figure it's worth trying for you, too. If anything, you won't have to worry about forgetting what you see, because it'll be written down for you.”

“That's... actually a really good idea. How come you never told me this before?”

“I never thought about it. You never seemed to have a problem keeping your memories straight.” His hands drop from Wild's shoulders. “I've got this feeling that you forgetting what you saw during that battle actually has nothing to do with being hit in the head. Especially since we know now you can't remember what those voices you heard the other day said either.”

Wild worries his bottom lip. “So, you think those two things are related?”

“It's just a theory, but... what if you can't hold on to any details of this memory because it's incomplete? That's why you remember the things you see, but the finer details start to go hazy the more time goes by. I mean, I might be totally wrong, but...”

It makes sense. Wild has never had trouble holding onto the memories that have returned to him, not until this one. But he's also never had one come back to him in such tiny bits and pieces before. Writing everything down until he finds a way to trigger the entire thing-- well, even if it doesn't help him piece it together, it'll at least ease the panic he feels inside whenever he realizes he's forgotten details again. He gives Twilight a grateful smile, and feels himself warm at the reassuring one he gets back.

The trek back to the barracks is as miserable as Wild's journey to the stables. He feels like a drowned rat by the time they make it back to their room. Both boys quickly peel off their sopping wet clothes and change into clean dry ones, hanging the dirty ones over the metal bed frames of their cots so they can dry. Wild twists his hair up into a messy bun to keep the damp ends off him, securing it with the hair sticks from his Sheikah attire. Time pops his head into the room to tell them Warriors and the others brought back buns from the town bakery for them all to share. Wild's stomach gives an excited gurgle at the thought. But, before he and Twilight follow their leader into the dining hall, Wild digs into his bag and pulls out his journal, ink, and pen. Twilight gives him another encouraging smile as he flips to the next clean page and writes:

Chapter Text

Here's what I have so far:

So, not exactly a lot to go on. Twi' said I should write down that the memory possibly takes place during the evening, since a lot of the little bits I've seen have been around that time, but I'm not sure that actually means anything. The sunset triggering the memory might mean it's evening, yes, but it also might not have anything to do with the time of day at all. I've had memories come back to me in the middle of the night or when there's not a single cloud in the sky, but what I see is a moment during a storm, when I was soaked to the bone from rain and splattered with mud. Or it might be a time spent at the first light of dawn,when the sky is a soft blue and the air is wet with dew. So, he might be right, or he might be wrong. Either way, I think it would be better not to write something like that down if I'm not at least a little sure. The only reason I'm writing that the kitchen cupboard might have something to do with the sunset is because I was staring right at it when I saw that piece of memory.

Now, the other thing Twilight mentioned, that might be important. Right before we went to bed, Twilight said he noticed, twice now, I've remembered something because of Four. Twi' thought, and I agree, that my next best step would be to spend some time with our Smithy, just to see what exactly it is about him that seems to be triggering the memory. Maybe that's what happened at the Goddess festival-- maybe I saw or heard something Four did or said, and it brought it on. I don't really remember what he'd been doing during the festival, besides dancing with Wind, but I should still try. Finding excuses to spend time with Four should be easy enough-- the nine of us are almost always together. It's just...

Why do I have this feeling things are about to get really awkward?

**

“Hey, Four! Wait up!”

The group of soldiers in front of him turn to shoot him annoyed glares. Wild cringes and ducks his head. He hadn't meant to be so loud, but Four was already almost out of the door of the barracks and he was worried he might lose sight of him if he didn't get the boy's attention. Wild, as politely as he can, pushes his way through the crowded entryway so he can slip outside. Thankfully, the Smithy had heard him. Four waits patiently for him under the small awning above the front door. His green hood is pulled up today to protect his head from the rain and it seems like he's forgone the green headband he normally wears to keep his bangs back. The dreary weather from yesterday has stretched into today. The sky is still the color of slate, the ground still slick with mud. Time had officially given up on sending a group of them scouting for information when he noticed their miserable faces staring out the windows of the barracks that morning. Instead, he said they'd rest for one more day, but tomorrow they were leaving-- rain or not. It doesn't seem like they'll be finding any information on where the shadow might have gone here in Castle Town, so maybe they can find another village in Warrior's Hyrule that can point them in the right direction. Even though he's not the biggest fan of this Castle Town, Wild is still grateful for the delay. It means he gets one more day to try and figure out this memory, safely away from monsters or battles.

“Did you need something?” Four asks, once Wild has caught up to him.

Well, yes, but not anything he wants to admit to right now. “Not really,” Wild lies, with what he hopes is a casual shrug. “I just, uh... well, I don't really feel like being cooped up in here today. If you're leaving, do you want some company? Maybe?”

He ends the sentence kind of lamely. Four raises an eyebrow, and Wild has the sudden impression the younger boy thinks he's hiding something-- but then the Smithy shoots him an easy grin, his arms held up in a “why not?” kind of gesture. “Come on, then,” he says, and walks off. Wild pulls the hood of his cloak up and steps out into the misty spray of rain as well, trailing after his friend.

He's not exactly sure what Four is planning on doing today. Everyone else had decided to stay in the barracks, and Wild and Twilight bought all the supplies their group needed two days ago. He remembers Four went to the Post Office yesterday, so maybe he wanted to check for a reply to his letter? The Post Man is fast, but Wild didn't think he was that fast.

“So where, um... where are you going?”

Wild drags a hand down his face-- partly to wipe at the wetness gathering there from the rain, and partly because he's already exasperated with himself. It's not like he's never been alone with Four before. It shouldn't be this hard to talk to him. But the truth is, ever since they got in that fight when Twilight was injured, things have been awkward between them. They've both apologized, and Wild meant every word he'd said, and Four had even gone out of his way to fix the sword Wild broke. Things are just still so... uncomfortable. Wild wouldn't say he goes out of his way now to avoid the boy, but he definitely doesn't make an effort to spend time with him. That's probably something he should have fixed a while ago. Maybe then he wouldn't feel like such an idiot trying to string two sentences together.

Four looks back at him. “The blacksmith,” he answers simply, and then he turns down a narrow alley.

Wild hurries to catch up. The streets are still full of people, despite the rain-- even this cramped twisty path to a deeper part of the town. It's still less people than were at the market though, so Wild doesn't feel quite so anxious. The alley continues for a while, until finally opening up onto a wide, circular courtyard. There are stone benches lining the space, dark and slick with rainwater, and enormous flower pots full of neatly arranged yellow and pink blooms easily the size of Wild's hands. In the center of the courtyard is a large, bubbling fountain. Wild stares up at the beautiful statues of the fountain. He can only assume they're the old Goddesses. The three sisters dance around each other-- Farore's full skirts mid-bounce, Nayru's long hair twisting around her, Din striking a powerful pose-- the expressions on their stone faces cold, yet serene.

The blacksmith is on the other end of the courtyard. Wild lets out a small sigh of relief when they step into the forge. The roof blocks out most of the rain, though the wind does blow some into the open-air space. It's warm, and the air smells like iron and coal. The blacksmith-- a stout man with short gray hair and stubble on his chin-- grunts at them in greeting.

“Are you having your sword repaired?” Wild asks.

Four laughs. “No, no, I take care of the Four Sword just fine on my own. I'm here for horseshoes.”

“Horseshoes?” Wild blinks. “What on earth do you need horseshoes for?”

“I heard Twilight telling Time Epona was due to have them replaced. He said the farrier at the barracks was too busy with the soldiers' horses so he'd have to do them himself like he does when he's home. He just needed to get them. We're stuck here for another day, so I figured I'd grab them for him so he could replace them before we left tomorrow.”

“Oh, that's nice of you. He'll really appreciate that.”

That is really nice of him. Wild sometimes forgets the other heroes are just as likely as him to go out of their way to help someone else-- not just with hero-business, but small, mundane things just like this. He's used to being the one to always set aside time for whatever another person might need, no matter if they're a friend or just a stranger. It fills him with a special kind of lightness to see his friends doing the same. He thinks he feels some of that wall between him and the Smithy crack and crumble away.

After they get the horseshoes, Four tells Wild he was planning on walking around the town for a bit, to stretch his legs some more before they go back to being stuck inside the barracks. Wild follows along. He still needs to see what it is about Four that keeps triggering the memory, but he also wouldn't mind getting to see more of Warrior's home. He doesn't necessarily like how busy and crowded this Castle Town is, but it wouldn't be fair to judge this place by its overcrowded market with pickpockets and shouting merchants. Four leaves the courtyard completely to head down a wide street to the east. This must be the part of town the Captain had taken the others to yesterday. There's the Post Office with its vivid red roof and wooden sign showing the unmistakable rabbit insignia. Beside that is a charming little bakery with faded blue shutters and a line leading out the door despite the rain. There's also a Fletcher, a hatter, a shoemaker, and an apothecary. He sees a building with bright purple walls and a yellow roof and a sign reading “Fortune Teller: Are You Brave Enough To See What The Future Holds For You?” There's a cramped bookstore whose front window is blocked on the inside by a heavy wooden bookshelf. They stop inside there for a little while, so Wild can look for something his Zelda might like and also so he can find something to read besides Twilight's boring farm book. Once they've made their purchases, they leave and head past a busy cafe and a fancy-looking boutique with heavy gowns of brocade and expensive fur-lined cloaks in the large window display. Finally, at the end of the street, Four stops at an old pub and asks Wild if he's hungry.

He'll never say no to a good meal, so they head down the worn stone steps and through the door. It's crowded and noisy and smells like the stew bubbling in the kitchen and the wood burning in the fireplace on the wall farthest from the door. There's two girls with the same long nose and full lips and identical braids of thick brown hair waiting on the other customers. Four and Wild grab the only empty table left by the fire. Wild throws his cloak over the back of the chair and drops heavily into his seat. Four pulls his hood back and smooths his hair down before sitting as well.

Since the place is so busy, it takes a while to get their food. Their drinks and a loaf of wheat bread is brought to the table to tide them over. Wild watches as Four slices it into neat, even slices before pushing the plate it's on to the center of the table so they can both grab what they want. The Smithy is careful to eat slow, to not spill anything on himself or drop crumbs on the table. It oddly reminds Wild of the way his Zelda eats-- excessively well-mannered.

“You're grandfather is a blacksmith, right?” Wild asks.

“I spent a lot of time at the castle growing up. The King and my grandpa are close friends,” Four answers. Wild stares at him, confused, because that wasn't at all what he'd asked. Four smirks at him. “You were wondering about my table manners, right? That's why you asked. You didn't expect a blacksmith to be so proper.”

Wild feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment. “O-oh, I wasn't trying to imply anything--”

Four cuts him off with a loud laugh. “I'm not offended-- I get it all the time, actually. I was just explaining. Grandpa and I were at the castle all the time, so we stayed for meals a lot. Stuffy table manners have kind of been drilled into me at this point.”

Wild considers his friend for a moment. “How did your grandfather get so close to the King? I don't really remember much about how things worked with the nobility in my Hyrule, but I'm pretty sure the royal family didn't have many friends. Unless they were the other leaders in Hyrule-- like Urbosa, the Gerudo Chief.”

“Grandpa was a swordsman when he was younger. He and the King were... I guess you could say friendly rivals?They even fought to a draw in a sword-fighting tournament my Hyrule has every year. They've been really close ever since. Actually, I think they got even closer after Grandpa decided he wanted to settle down and take up blacksmithing. The King has always had Grandpa make any important weapons-- like gifts for other Kingdoms or prizes for festivals.”

One of the girls working at the pub drops off their food. They both dig in, so it's quiet between them for a few minutes. Wild dunks a chunk of bread into his stew and asks, “so, are your family all blacksmiths now?”

“No,” Four shakes his head. “Just my grandfather and me.”

“Really? You're mother or father didn't want to learn the trade too?”

Four goes quiet again, chewing slowly. Wild take the time to eat some more. He gets the impression the other boy is deciding between telling him something or not, and he doesn't want to interrupt. Wild isn't entirely sure what he can do to figure out why Four is triggering parts of the memory, besides just follow him around until something happens. That could takes ages though-- also, it kind of makes him feel like a creep. If he learns more about him while he's spending time with him, though, he gets to find out what he needs to for the memory, but also, he might be able to tear down more of the wall they've built between them ever since their argument. He'd really like it if that could happen. Wall or not, Four is his friend. He shouldn't let one fight ruin that.

“My father was a soldier, actually,” Four finally says. “He died in a skirmish with another kingdom when I was young.”

“Oh,” Wild says. He studies Four's face. He doesn't seem upset. His tone is more... indifferent. “I'm sorry to hear that.”

Four takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly a moment later. Then, as if they are talking about the weather outside and not a dead parent, he starts eating again. “It's fine,” he tells the Champion when his mouth isn't full. “I didn't know him very well. My mother was a seamstress before I was born, but she died when I was a baby. My father dropped me off with my grandpa-- my mother's father-- after, and then left. I only saw him a handful of times before he died.”

Wild sets his spoon down. The stew has turned sour in his mouth as he listened to Four's story. “That's-- that's awful. I can't believe your father would do that.”

“It's fine.” Wild opens his mouth to argue that no, it's not, but Four cuts him off, “I mean, I'm not bothered about it anymore. Actually, part of me is kind of happy he did. If he hadn't, my father would have dragged me all over Hyrule with him. I wouldn't have gotten to spend so much time with my grandpa, I wouldn't have been friends with Zelda, and I never would have learned about blacksmithing. The best thing he ever did for me was leave me with Grandpa. Trust me.”

“Wow,” Wild says, a surprised chuckle leaving him before he can stop it. “I don't think I've ever heard someone put a positive spin on having a deadbeat dad before.”

He immediately feels like he's overstepped. He doesn't know Four well enough to make jokes like that. Maybe he can say that kind of stuff to Twilight or Hyrule and get a laugh, but he has no idea how the Smithy will react. Wild opens his mouth again-- this time to apologize-- but Four stops him before he can get the words out by throwing his head back and letting out a burst of laughter.

“I-it hasn't always been this way,” Four manages to get out after a moment. He's smiling wider than Wild has ever seen before. “I was pissed at him for a long time. After a while though, I just figured... what's the point? He's gone and not coming back. It's just a waste of my energy to stay mad at him. I've got a pretty great life with my Grandpa, anyway. That's enough for me.”

Wild smiles at that. “I hope we get to your era someday. I'd like to meet your grandfather.”

Four's gaze grows softer at that. “I think he'd enjoy meeting all of you, too.”

**

Despite his apprehension, Wild actually had a really nice time with Four. Turns out, spending time with the Smithy doesn't feel as awkward as he thought it would. He may not have seen any more pieces of the memory, and he's no closer to figuring out why Four seems to be triggering them, but at least he feels like they've grown a little closer. The next day, the rain has finally stopped. All the heroes breath a sigh of relief. The ground outside the cobble-stoned streets of the town is still a little muddy, but the air has grown humid and heavy with the scent of earth baking under a hot sun. Warriors asks one more time about any news concerning monsters with extraordinary strength or magic, but there's none, so they have no choice but to leave and hope they can find a sign of the shadow elsewhere. Wild was expecting to walk to the nearest town or village, but the Captain pays their way instead. A group of farmers leaving for their village agree to let the heroes ride in the backs of their wagons for a fee. There's three of them, sturdy and wide. The first wagon is packed with empty milk containers and crates the farmers used to haul their goods to market. Time and Warriors sit there so they can speak to the man who owns the farm as they travel. The second is empty but for several small hay bales and a couple happily clucking cuccos. They hesitate climbing inside the cart once they see them-- that is, until Sky climbs in and sits down, pulling the birds into his lap. They seem content to rest as the boy pets them, which the other heroes take as a sign it's safe to ride with them. The third wagon is full of new farm tools and bolts of vibrant cloth and even more heavy crates. The man driving it offers to make a space for Twilight to sit since the second wagon is full, but the Ranch Hand tells him there's no need. He goes to get Epona from the stables and returns just as they're setting off.

It's a pleasant ride, though it is slow. This Hyrule is lush with vivid green grasses and colorful wildflowers, the view wide and clear, unlike his home where there are ruins of buildings and rusting, broken guardians everywhere. Far in the distance he can make out large square stone buildings-- one in each direction he looks. When he calls up to the Captain to ask what they are he's told they're the keeps, and that the army uses them to defend the castle and town during battle. His friends riding in the wagon with him start wondering what it would be like to be a soldier-- they all traveled their homes on their own. (Some with companions, of course, but still.) None of them knew what it would be like to fight Ganon on a true battlefield. Legend makes a quip about how it must be a thousand times harder to do that, since Goddesses knows the Hylian Knights aren't worth anything. Wild doesn't know whether to defend the knights-- he's a knight, after all-- or just keep his mouth shut, because is Legend actually complimenting the Captain? It really sounds like it. Hyrule must think so too, because he's grinning as he leans around Legend to check to see if Warriors heard-- which he must have, because he's smirking at the grumpy boy, though Legend doesn't seem to notice.

Wind starts looking a little green after about two hours on the road. Wild can now see a river not too far off, running parallel to the road, and he wonders if he should ask the farmhand driving the wagon to stop so they can take the younger boy to the water to cool off and rest before he gets sick. Wind buries his face in his knees, groaning loud enough that the others hear him from the first wagon, even over the sound of the horses pulling them along and the wheels bumping along the road. “Are we there yet? I think I'm going to puke.”

“Don't tell me you're motion sick!” Hyrule chuckles, rubbing the younger boy on the back. “You're a sailor. Shouldn't you be used to moving around like this?”

Wind lifts his face up just enough so he can shoot the Traveler a glare. “Sailing feels nothing like this. I hate riding on dry land. It's bumpy and hot!”

Legend snorts. “Sailing is way worse than this.”

“No, it's not! You get to feel the ocean breeze when you're on a ship.”

“There's a breeze right now.”

“Barely.”

“You can get caught in a storm when you're sailing, and those waves rocking are so much worse than a couple bumps in the road.”

“Well, sailing's faster than riding in a wagon!”

“We're not talking about speed. We're talking about which is more likely to make you puke.”

“I ought to puke on you.”

“Don't you dare--”

“I've got an idea!” Four interrupts Wind and Legend's argument-- just in time too, because Time was looking back at them with that “disappointed old man” look he always gives them before he starts yelling. (Legend's words, not Wild's.) “Why don't we play a game to keep your mind off how you're feeling?”

Wind perks up at this. “What game?”

“Um... how about 'What does the Keese see?'”

“What are we, toddlers?” Legend scoffs.

Wind glares at the boy beside him. “I think the Keese sees someone with a bad attitude.”

Everyone on the wagon laughs, besides Legend. Wild thinks he even hears the driver let out a soft chuckle. Hyrule reaches across Wind to pat Legend's shoulder. “Come on,” he says with an easy grin. “It could be fun. If anything, it'll pass the time.”

Legend rolls his eyes, but agrees to play. Four asks if anyone needs to know the rules, and Sky says he does. It's an easy enough game. One person gives a clue about something they see, and then everyone else playing has to guess what it might be. For instance, saying “The Keese sees something blue,” might have someone guess, “I think the Keese sees the sky.” Wild knows the rules because it's a favorite of the children in Kakariko Village, so he's played it a few times when he and Zelda have gone to see Impa. Wind says the Smithy should go first, since it was his idea. They take turns giving clues, while the other heroes make guesses. The game does make Wild feel a little childish, but it does also make time go by faster. It's midday by the time the road makes a turn closer to the river. Which if Wild remembers correctly, the farmers had told Warriors they're village wasn't too far from where the two meet. Legend, who spent the first part of the game grumbling about feeling like a little kid, turns smug when his clue about seeing something metal-- Epona's bridle-- completely stumps the rest of them. Wind gives a clue about something fluffy, which Wild correctly guesses are the cuccos still in Sky's lap. When it's the Champion's turn, he looks around, hoping to find something not quite as easy to guess as that, but definitely not as difficult as Legend's clue. One of the bolts of cloth in the third wagon is a pretty purple color. That should work.

“The Keese sees something--”

--pastel green, soft lavender, and the obnoxiously bright orange of the sunset.

Wild chokes on his words. He blinks, and his vision clears immediately. Shit, shit, shit. That was the memory. It had to be. He needs to write that down or tell Twilight or something before he forgets again. He doesn't really want to pull his journal out right now-- everyone will wonder why the hell he's writing when they're supposed to be playing a game. Plus, there's no way he can write legibly on such a bumpy road. Twilight is his best option. He's closer to the first wagon, talking with Time and Warriors, so he'll have to shout to get his attention.

“Wild?” Four asks.

Right, the game. He looks down at the hero beside him. Four looks concerned-- which is nice, but Wild doesn't want to bother with coming up with an excuse for why he's suddenly acting strange. He turns to look out at the river behind Legend. He'll find something easy, so his turn is over with quickly. Pastel green, soft lavender, obnoxiously bright orange, he repeats to himself. Maybe he can keep thinking it over and over again until they get to the village, that way he doesn't forget. He'll write it down in his journal once they get there.

“The Keese sees...” He hesitates as he stares at the river. Is that... “Is that a campfire?” he asks aloud.

“That's not how you play, Wild. We're supposed to guess.” Wind says, shaking his head.

“No, I'm asking-- is that a campfire?” He points in the direction of the riverbank. Everyone looks. Four even crawls over so he can see past Legend. There's a dark plume of smoke drifting into the air, right on the other side of the bridge they're headed towards. Wild would use his scope to check it out, but he doesn't like pulling the slate out in places that aren't used to that kind of technology. Instead, he leans over the side of the wagon and shouts, “hey, Rancher! Can you check out what's up with that smoke?”

Twilight stops whatever conversation he'd been having and instead looks back at them. His head turns in the direction that has all their attention. He must see what Wild is talking about, because he starts digging in his bag, finally pulling out the strange hawk mask he uses to see across great distances after a few moments. The air grows tense as they wait. Suddenly, Twilight pulls the mask off and calls, “monster camp! Sir, can you stop your wagons?”

The wagons come to a jerking halt. The farm owner-- Akom, he said his name was-- turns around in his seat on the first wagon and says, “did you say monsters, lad?” At Twilight's nod, the farm hand driving the wagon Wild rides in shifts nervously in his seat.

“What if they're waiting to ambush us, sir?” he asks. “We can't fight!”

“Well, luckily, you were generous enough to give a ride to nine skilled swordsmen.” Time says, easily sliding down from the bed of the wagon. Warriors jumps down right after. Wild and the others start climbing off their wagon as well. Twilight gets off Epona, giving her a pat as he asks her to wait here for a moment.

“You'll really fight them?” Akom asks.

Warriors nods. “We're close to your village. If we don't take care of them now, they're sure to cause trouble for you later.”

“Be careful, then, “Akom says, brow furrowed with worry. “We'll wait right here for you.”

Time motions for them to follow him, so they all leave the road and start through the knee-high grass. He tells Wild, Legend and Sky to pull out their bows so they can cover the others during the fight. Wild feels a rush of relief. He's too distracted to be worrying about fighting up close. If he ended up injured again so soon, Time would definitely demand a reason for him being so careless, and Wild doesn't really feel ready to explain what's going on with him to anyone else yet. Twilight claps him on the shoulder as they head towards the smoke-- a silent praise for spotting the potential danger. Wild watches his friend start to move ahead, and as he does he realizes this is the perfect moment to ask him for help.

He grabs the Rancher by the arm before he can walk too far away from him. “Hey,” Wild whispers.

“What's up?” Twilight asks with a frown.

“Can... can you do me a favor?”

Twilight raises an eyebrow. “Right now?”

“Yea.” Wild looks towards the others. They've fallen behind the rest of their group, but just by a bit, so he doesn't think anyone is paying them any attention yet. “Can you remember something for me?”

For a moment, Twilight seems extremely confused, but then realization dawns on the older boy's face. He gives Wild a nod and says, “of course. Go ahead.”

“Pastel green, soft lavender, and obnoxiously bright orange.”

It's clear Twilight is waiting for him to say more, but when that never happens, he shoots Wild a confident grin. “Got it! I promise, I won't forget.”

Wild smiles back. “I know. I trust you.”