Chapter Text
“So… an evil god gave you a weird mask, announced you would play “the bad guy” and you not only took it, but also kept it and used it several times?” Legend frowns as he sums up.
Time looks down, aware it’s pointless to deny it.
“Right…” He admits. “Said like this, it sounds terrible, but at the time I was trying to stop the moon from crashing on the town. I couldn’t afford to say no.”
And then things became… complicated, he completes as thinking about the period he spent fighting at Warrior’s and Tune’s side.
“What impress me the most, it’s the fact you managed to survive to such an advanced age.” Legend declares. “You’ve as much common sense as Wind, Old Man-…”
“Hey!” Wind protests.
“…And even him knows better than picking up the first cursed item he finds!”
Time bows his head lower. Honestly, he gets what he deserves.
They’re all gathered around the table. Malon put a huge coffee pot in the middle and, to Time’s great despair, Sky is already sipping his third cup. Everyone listened the story of Termina and of the Fierce Deity mask in a quasi-total silence. Most of them look shocked. Twilight gives the impression that someone just walked on his grave. Warriors seems to be lost in his memories, a bitter grin on his lips. Hyrule keeps his eyes low, but Time can see he’s clenching his fists hard enough to turn his knuckles white.
Four reaches out for the mask, at the centre of the table, which looks like it’s silently laughing at them. The Smithy seems slightly sick since Time talked about possession, but his mauve eyes sparkle with curiosity.
“May I?”
Time nods and lets him take the mask.
“It’s just painted wood.” Four observes with a pensive voice. “Cedar, I think, from the grain. And you said a god lives inside?”
Indeed, said like this, it doesn’t seem credible. Time shrugs. Since when does his journey make sense? “I don’t know if he really lives inside. My other masks are kind of… vestiges of people who existed before and who are, I hope, at peace now. Except the soul in this one never left.”
Four’s eyes shine like amethysts. He asks: “What would happen if I donned it?”
Warriors tenses suddenly.
“I deeply recommend you to refrain from trying.” He speaks.
“You’d surely end up like me the other day.” Time answers.
Despite his resolution to keep his calm whatever would happen and the trust he has toward Four, he can’t help but feeling deeply unsettled at the idea. The Fierce Deity mask is… his. He’d have given it willingly last night; but Warriors is right. It’s his burden. His weapon. His responsibility. The mere thought of someone else with the mask, confronting him with the face of his own demon, gives him goose bumps.
“Highly unpleasant.” Four concedes. “But I’d like to try a last experiment.”
His eyes burn with a redder shade.
“Legend, may I have your fire rod?” he asks politely.
Malon clears her throat with a disapproving air.
“You know the rule, no weapon in the house.” She reminds them.
“Just for five minutes, I swear!”
Legend, a hand around the pot of unguent offered by Hyrule as a token of peace, grumbles a little, but takes the item out of his bottomless bag. Four grabs it and walks to the fireplace, the mask still in his other hand. Time cringes when the smith drops it and throws a generous fire ball directly at the painted wood.
“My panelling!” Malon protests.
With a sheepish look, Four wipes the frame of the fireplace with a sweep of his sleeve, then picks up the mask from the ashes. Time doesn’t need to get closer to know it’s perfectly untouched and isn’t even warm.
“You won’t be able to destroy it like this.” He says. “I tried a few things, fire, acid and even my megaton hammer, once. Didn’t even make a scratch. Actually, I’m not sure it really exists in our plan of reality, as if the mask itself was just the manifestation of something beyond.”
“Interesting…” Four’s eyes are purple again as he nods thoughtfully.
His looks makes Time deeply ill at ease. He fidgets nervously.
“I know that all this in really strange and you probably have a lot of questions.” He declares. “But we must think about what we’ll do next.”
Eight sets of eyes stare at him with surprise. Malon, as for her, rolls hers.
“About what?” Twilight questions.
Time raises an eyebrow as gesturing to the mask. “But about this, for Nayru sake! I used the power of an evil god and nearly killed you! Doesn’t that affect you?”
The Heroes share looks, then each one answers more than the other:
“T’was freaky!” Wind announces.
“My back still hurts.” Twilight confirms.
“Your alter ego is an asshole, for sure!” Legend exclaims.
Time’s stomach makes a nasty twist. He takes his head in his hands, brushes away the locks sticking to his forehead and looks daggers at his companions. Are they laughing at him? He’s trying to have a serious talk and these idiots are laughing at him?
“And that’s all?” He asks as doing his best to keep away his anger from his voice.
“What else would you want, be punished maybe?” Legend replies.
Yes! Time screams inwardly. His mouth opens like a fish out of water. The others give him astonished looks.
“You must be joking.” Four grumbles.
“You thought you were at your trial, Old man?” Twilight sounds incredulous.
“And yet, it’s nothing!” Warriors adds. “Last night, he wanted to palm the mask off on me. He looked like he believed it was why he was the leader or something.”
“Pfff!” Legend scoffs.
“If we’d to choose the leader according who has the more powerful item, it would be Wild and his magical slate, RIGHT CHAMPION?” Twilight leans a little toward Wild who moans, holding his head.
“Yeah… maybe, no screams please…” The Champion whines.
“You’ll think about it next time.” Twilight tells him before he turns back to Time. “Alright, it’s true we had a bad time, but it doesn’t call your place among us in question. You’re our leader, that’s all. We won’t, I dunno, exile you or depose you.”
“Told you.” Warriors insists.
This time, Time fails at holding back his anger. A white-hot wrath soaks his words as he speaks: “I-almost- killed -you…”
“Are you sorry?” Wind asks with the deepest seriousness, frowning and hands joined in front of him.
Time almost chokes. “Of course I am!”
“You’re very, very sorry and you won’t do it ever again?”
Never again! Time wants to exclaims. Then he remembers. He remembers the violence of the battle, the enemies coming over and over, the rising certitude of the defeat… It has been so simple, so quick to undo the strap of his bag, to break the seal protecting his masks and to put his hand inside to precisely find this one …
“I…”
As he lets his voice trails without daring end his sentence, the mischievous spark in Wind’ eyes fades. Four puts down the mask on the table. The others wait for the next, looking grave.
“Actually, I would rather like to stab my other eye than hurt you again.” Time confess more quietly. “But I know that what happened there is very likely to occur again. There’ll always be a battle we won’t be able to win…”
Is Twilight… crying? His eyes are shinning weirdly, but he keeps his head straight and a determined face. Time forces himself to continues:
“...And I know I’ll be tempted to use the power of the Fierce Deity at this time. That’s why I can’t promise you I won’t do it again. Sooner or later, it’s a choice I’ll have to make and I know what I’ll choose.”
“Time…” Twilight’s voice quavers as he speaks. “If you do that, you may never come back. You know that.”
Time nods. “This price, it’s something I’m ready to pay in exchange of your lives.”
A shocked silence follows his words. Then Sky finishes his coffee in one gulp, puts the cup on the table loudly and declares:
“That’s bullshit.”
Everyone, even Time, gives him an astonished look. The eyes of the kindest Hero blaze in wrath and a sardonic grin contorts his lips. A nearly tangible anger radiate of him. Time shudders – that’s the second reason which explains why Sky shouldn’t have coffee. The nickname “God slayer” briefly crosses his mind. For once, it seems to stick.
“What I’m hearing” Sky tells “it’s you would be ready to sell your soul to save our skins and, guess what, you succeeded. No one’s dead. You saved us and I’ve the feeling that maybe, maybe, it was the objective at first. Now listen to me Time: alright, it could have gone off better, surely we would have preferred you keep the control, but at last it worked. You didn’t want to kill us. Let it to the bastards we fight out there. For me, the incident is closed. You’re one of us. You own a cursed item. I don’t want to hear you blaming yourself for someone else’s acts.”
Discreetly, Malon takes back the coffee pot and pretends she’s serving herself a cup. The others stirs nervously on their chair, trying their best to avoid visual contact with Sky – who, for now, has fallen silent and stares at Time as if he wanted to drill holes into his skull.
“Everyone agrees with him?” Time asks as turning to his companions, unable to hold any longer the Skyloftian’s gaze.
Somehow, he would like they were mad at him. He would like to be rejected, to be judged for his faults and left to his guilt. That’s what he deserves, according to him. But somewhere deep inside him, he’s afraid. Somewhere he’s eight, his fairy has just gone and he’s crying please, don’t leave me, not again, please, please…
“I’ve said I would carry you if you fell and I meant it!” Warriors declares.
“You’ll need a healer if you keep going like this.” Hyrule replies in a slightly shaking voice.
Legends puts a hand on the shoulder of his successor and adds:
“Seems someone needs to learn how to deal with a cursed item.”
“Sorry Old man, but you won’t get rid of me nor any of us so easily.” Twilight continues.
“A pirate never abandons a member of his crew.” Wind comments.
“We just have to convince the beefy guy to give Time back if it happens again, right?” Wild asks as massaging his temples. “I think it’s doable.”
Sky still has his terrible grin. “I wonder if this god is easily sliceable too.”
“Oh, the taller they are, the harder they fall.” Four affirms with a nasty spark in his blue eyes.
Malon leans toward Time to tell him under her breath:
“Just… next time, don’t get electrocuted, want you?”
Time looks at each of his companions facing him, faces serious and determined. They seems pretty sure of their decision and he knows from experience it would be easier to alter the course of the sun than to make them change their mind. The tension suddenly leaves his shoulders. He lets out the breath he wasn’t aware to hold and the knot twisting his stomach loosens. Malon takes his hand with a comforting smile.
Warriors gives Time a self-satisfied smile and declares:
“See? I told you. You’re a good leader and there’s no way we let you down. Sorry old chap, you’ll have to tolerate us for a while.”
Despite himself, Time feels a smile twists his own lips. He picks up the mask left on the table. The painted face sends back an empty glare. This time, oddly, it’s less anxiety-inducing than usually. For his peace of mind, Time looks daggers at the Chain, but his heart isn’t in it. He could rather hug them. Actually, no, he will, right after that.
“You’re just a bunch of reckless idiots without any self-preservation instinct.” He warns them.
“It runs in the family!” Twilight replies as he sticks his tongue out.
With a soft laugh, Time puts away the mask of the Fierce Deity in his bag and closes the seal.