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Chapter Text

The goriya squelched as Legend pulled his sword from its cooling body, black blood oozing from a clean cut through its front. One of Hyrule's red ones, the traveler had explained; a little bit stupid and easy to dispatch. Their easy defeat didn't make the sticky black blood any easier to deal with, Legend thought, shaking it from the tinted blade of his sword. 

“I don't know what a miniblin is,” said Hyrule, sheathing his sword. “These are goriya, without a doubt.”

“I dunno,” Wind sniffed. “Looks like a mini to me.”

Twilight scruffed a hand through the sailor's hair and drawled. “Aaand, pray tell, what’s a goriya?”

“Annoying,” Legend answered, sheathing his now somewhat clean sword. He brushed dirt from his tunic. “Be thankful they weren't mine.”

Twilight's freaky bokoblins and Hyrule’s goriya made up the bulk of this particular monster group, with one of Legend’s own pig-moblins leading the pack. An easy enough battle without a single injury to speak of, and it gave them a perfect clearing for the night's camp with a clear view of the open grass fields below and, in the far distance, the dim lights of Legend's own Kakariko.

He reveled in the smell of his home wind, light and dry from the desert to the west. The air would be warm tonight, he'd venture to guess, which means he could strip off his heavy tunic and splay out more comfortably.

The group chatted as they set up, a soupy chowder simmering over the fire courtesy of Wild. 

“Mine just throw boomerangs,” Hyrule said, running a hand through the mess of his hair. “But they're not especially smart. Try laying out some meat next time we find some. Trust me, the food never goes wrong.”

“So that's why your bag stinks.” Legend pinched his nose shut in a mockery of disgust. “All that ‘food’.”

Hyrule sputtered and shoved Legend to the ground, where the veteran splayed out as though a man struck down in death. 

“Friendly fire, Rulie! We talked about this!” 

“Drama queen! It’s just dried meat!”

“He's killed me!”

Wind whooped. “Vet’s dead! I get his boots!”

Legend snapped upright in an instant and threw a scowl so vicious at Wind that the sailor stopped mid-step. “The hell you do. You know what it took to get these? A lot of work!”

Wind crossed his arms, undeterred. “Okay, fine, but if you die for real, I call dibs.”

Legend grabbed and threw a handful of dirt after the snickering sailor before he could flee behind Warriors. The man sent Legend his best unimpressed look, but it lacked the threat of Time or Twilight's own glares. 

“Hey!” called Wild as he his ladle about. “You want dinner or not? Yes or no?”

A chorus of yes’s answered. They converged around the campfire - Wind deftly hopped away from Legend’s threatening swipe - to receive bowls of a creamy chowder mixed with chunks of roasted meat and one of Twilight's prized pumpkins, straight from Ordon. Buttery, smooth, and not too warm to combat the summer night air. 

Tasted good, too, Legend decided, even beneath the layer of monster smell drifting through the camp. Classic cook. 

“... That bag really does smell, traveler,” said Twilight, scooping up a mouthful of chowder. “Dunno what of.”

“It’s just… herbs. Stuff for potions.” The boy hunched over his own bowl. “It’s not that bad! At least it’s not keese.”

Wild flicked chowder chunks at him. “Uh-uh, they’re great for elixirs and you know it! You do!”

Hyrule shrugged. “Yeah sure, I guess so, but I think rosemary and valerian work better for long-lasting elixirs anyway. Keese go bad so quickly. Oh! And they keep food from rotting on long journeys!”

Legend popped his own spoon out of his mouth and spoke through a mouthful of sauce. “Champion. Don’t you tell me,” he swallowed, “that you’re putting keese wings in our chowder. No way. That’s disgusting.”

“An’ spit. Some teeth.” Twilight leaned over to bump Wild’s shoulder. “Ain’t that the truth, champ? We’re staging an intervention.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Legend saw Sky’s face blanch. He looked down at his own chowder, appetite retreating. 

“It tastes fine.” Time gave Wild a gentle smile. “Keese wings or no. But for the future, it might be best to avoid getting too exotic.”

“A palate shaped by monster gristle is no good palate at all, nor is it particularly adventurous,” Warriors said as he passed his half finished bowl to a hungry Wind, who didn’t appear to care about its potential contents. He’d already eaten through Four’s portion, too. “I respect your bravery, though.”

Wild groaned. “Hylia’s sake, you’re all no fun. Not one bit. At least I have a sense of adventure! No, there aren’t any keese wings.”

“Well, um.” Hyrule coughed awkwardly. “Food is food. So. Bottoms up? Thanks, Wild.”

They finished what they could in relative peace. Legend’s appetite had faltered some but the taste made up for it and he believed Wild if he said there weren’t, in fact, any keese wings in the mixture. They passed their bowls back for washing in the morning, then got to work setting out their bedrolls by the fire while Warriors worked out a watch schedule with Time.

Legend kicked out his bedroll nearest to the eastern side of the fire, where the rocks offered a buffer against the winds from the field. Hyrule usually joined him wherever he may be, but tonight he lodged himself into the gnarled roots of an old tree on the south side of camp, closest to the woods. In his place came Wind whose bedroll lay sideways, head to the fire and feet at Legend’s middle. 

Goddesses, how was he to sleep like this?

As the rest settled in the and the sun began to set, Wild dimmed the fire and joined Twilight under the canopy at the outskirts of camp, and Four joined Time for first watch with Warriors promising himself and Legend second - against Legend’s permission, of course. 

That’ll be fine, though. He didn’t think he was going to sleep tonight anyway. Nerves itched under his skin like they did when something was watching him. 

Not human eyes. Not monster eyes. Something else.

Legend peeked around the rocks into the field below their hill. Wind rustled through the grass. Kakariko began to darken in the distance as the villagers went to bed. By morning they’d be able to stop at a proper inn. He sighed, soaking in the sensation of a breeze through his hair, then he sat back and curled into his bedroll. 

In the meantime, sleeping out in the fields wasn’t all bad. He’d missed this. 

He closed his eyes and drifted off to the sounds of the crackling fire. He dreamed of lost woods, that night, and salty seas. Lovely eyes in the dark meeting his own, a silent song for him and him alone. Desert dust crawled into his lungs and he imagined he must be wading through the sands of the desert palace again. Lanmolas were so rampant here, always kicking up sand into his eyes--

He awoke to screaming, screaming so loud it drowned out everything else. The taste of hot, dry, bitter magic crawled down his throat like grains of desert sand. It eked out a hollow inside of him where it pooled. He felt… behind himself. Like he was falling out of his body and down into the dirt below, all gooey and immaterial and absolutely, consumingly hot.

“Get it off of him!”

Weight, incredible weight, was sitting on his chest and pressing down on his throat. It was thrown off almost as soon as he became aware of it, his body startling forward with a gasp and a cough tearing his throat raw. 

Sand. Sand in his lungs. Sand in his windpipe, choking him to silence. He breathed in, breathed out, one, two, three, four heavy breaths, and only then did his brain finally catch up.

He sat there, half out of his bedroll, wide-eyed and feeling dizzy.

“Veteran? Vet?” Four appeared in front of him and shook him gently. “Legend!”

“What,” another cough, “in Din’s name was that?”

“Wizzrobe.” Warriors checked around Legend’s now tender neck. “That's what it looked like. I’ve never seen…” Legend winced when his fingers brushed over a particularly sensitive spot. “I’ve never seen a wizzrobe go for the throat like that. Did anyone recognize it?”

“Not mine,” Hyrule confirmed. “Are we sure that was even a wizzrobe?”

“No wizzrobe I’ve ever seen,” Wild added. 

“... I doubt it could be anything else,” said Time. “But it’s good to keep its appearance in mind for the future, if none of us found it familiar.”

Panic seized Legend suddenly, violently, and he flung himself backwards against the rock wall, away from the captain's probing fingers. “Back off!” His own fingers graced his throat as gently as he could manage yet pain rocketed through him, quick as a lightning strike. 

Warriors sniffed. “You’re breathing just fine, at least. That's good.”

“Yeah I am,” Legend bit back, though it lacked any venom. He tried steadying his voice amidst the coursing adrenaline and shock ravaging his body. He sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Was that thing choking me?”

“Sure seemed like it.” Hyrule came over to sit by his side. Legend let him inspect the sides of his throat, the familiar tingle of the traveler’s magic the only soothing part of this whole ordeal. “That’s… weird.”

“What?” Legend pulled away. “What’s weird?”

“It bit you,” Hyrule stated plainly, sitting back on his heels and peering at Legend through narrowed eyes. “Those are bites, not hand prints.”

"What?" Legend pressed his own fingers against his neck once more, more firmly this time, biting his cheek against the pain. Sure enough, indents greeted the pads of his fingers, laid out in a row of four on either side of his neck. They didn’t weep blood, they hadn’t broken the skin. They stung all the same and sucked the breath out of him when he touched them.

Sky crept closer, wary, but curious. “We were all sure it– it looked like it was strangling you. Stabbing you with a sword? Sure. But strangling...? That's new."

“It was strangling him, I saw it,” Warriors stepped back into Legend’s space despite his wary glare. “It had its hands around you. I didn’t even see a face. There wasn't time for it to bite.” 

“And then Wind started screaming,” Hyrule explained. He was wringing his hands until his knuckles paled like he did when he was thinking harder than he ought to. “And now the air… can’t you smell it? It’s different now. Captain, I know what bite marks look like. That's what those are."

“Wind’s out again, poor kid. Wouldn’t tell us any of what got him so spooked,” Twilight said, standing blearily off to the side where he could assess Legend at a distance. "Well then, hey, if Traveler says it's a bite, it's a bite. No reason to doubt 'im."

Was it really that serious? Surely, something was setting Hyrule one edge, something on the spectrum of magic that was beyond Legend’s own ability to sense. Even Warriors looked uneasy, or so Legend thought, his normally calm demeanor drawn in tight. His own magic, nestled down deep in the discs of his spine, felt… crumbling, if he had to put a word to it. His back hurt. His neck hurt. His air didn’t feel like air, and his heart ached and beat more slowly than it should in the aftermath of an adrenaline rush. 

Oh. Oh. Was he crashing? Legend blinked slowly, resting his head against the rocks. 

By his side, Hyrule joined him. A bottle was pressed into his hands; the half-empty communal red potion intended for small scrapes, bruises, and cuts that weren’t worth the bandages or a full red potion. 

It smelled of mint and fermented fruits. An alcoholic burn scraped his throat on the way down.

"We can at least get those off of you," he said.

"No scars, huh? Would've been pretty cool..."

Hyrule rolled his eyes and snatched the potion away before he could drink more than his share. Legend, not particularly miffed but suddenly overtaken by the desire to give his brother a hard time, reached for it across Hyrule’s lap and, much to the traveler’s very apparent annoyance, nearly knocked it from his hands and forced the boy to stand up and step away from Legend’s sticky hands.

“I’m putting this away, needy. Go back to sleep or I’ll kick you.”

Legend rolled back onto his bedroll, still itchy. Still feeling nervous. It built up inside him and made him want to spring to his feet and run but he was far, far too tired to do so. His heart was still beating too slowly. His chest was burning. “No you wouldn’t. Wait- wait, second watch is mine–”

“Don’t worry about it for tonight, get some rest,” said Time, already taking up a position by the dying fire. “We’ll be in your Kakariko tomorrow. We’ll rest up fully then.”

Plucking at the course material of his undertunic, Legend fought down the building energy in his stomach. He pressed a hand to his wrist, then his gut, determined that all was well, physically, and yet… he couldn’t shake the uneasiness. The slow ker-thunk of his heart. He wanted to burrow down deep before he could sleep.

The persistent feeling of something breathing down his neck was going to make for a hellish night. Even then, weariness tugged at his eyelids. Tiredness twined with an unwinding spool of nervous jitters that, combined with the chugging of his heart, made him feel ill. He was plucking apart the seams of his tunic. He tore his fingers from the material and patted it down, then curled sideways into his bedroll. 

Divested of all potions and breakables, the traveler joined him once more with his bedroll, back to back with the veteran. Boxing him in against the rocks and the traveler himself.

It… it felt good. 

“Thanks Rulie,” he said, voice muffled against his sleeve. 

“Yeah. No problem.”

Oblivion crept up on him slowly. The fire dimmed, Hyrule’s breathing faded, the wooshing of blood in his ears faded. His own breathing became shallow. Peaceful. When was the last time he’d been this tired?

He’d never… goddesses, he was so tired… he wanted to run but he was so tired.

Maybe tomorrow…

Maybe tomorrow would be better…

Legend slept without dreams. 

---

Morning came with bird song from the trees, rustling in the warm morning breeze Legend told them about. Summer felt nice here, in Hyrule's opinion; warm, not scorching, a little bit humid, not sticky. He rubbed the wet grit from his eyes, sat up and slouching and still a little tired, but eager to get a move on. He blinked the haze from his eyes, then turned to Legend to shake his arm. The vet's leg had been thrown over Hyrule's middle in the night. It was starting to hurt, kind of. 

"Ow, vet, geddoff, your squashing my spleen-- Ledge!" Hyrule rolled out from under his brother's leg and scratchy socks. "Move! Wake up. I'm getting breakfast without you!"

Breakfast in this case involved a couple of berries and fruits, plus some milk Time warmed over their little morning fire. 

"Vet's still sleeping?" Twilight looked over. "Aw, let the guy sleep. Long night for 'im."

Hyrule sipped on his milk, content to let the others start wrapping up camp while he took up position by Legend's side so nobody would disturb him before he was ready. Legend never asked anyone to watch his back. Back when they'd first met, when Hyrule had decided against all odds that Legend was who he wanted to look up to, who he'd idolize as the Hero of Legend, the veteran hadn't begrudged him a desire to be close. The traveler of all people had been let in right off the bat. He wasn't sure if it'd been pity - perhaps it was, then - or something else. A softness the man wasn't willing to divulge the details of just yet. It was for Hyrule alone, according to Twilight one night. It reminded the rancher of himself and the champion.

Hyrule didn't need a mentor. He'd said as much to Twilight. That didn't change the fact that Legend had nonetheless taken responsibility. 

"Vet," Hyrule said, waving a warm oat cookie Wild had saved for the two of them, a special treat made from the honey they'd gathered a few nights before. "C'mon, up up! I'm not putting your bedroll away for you."

Nothing. 

"Ledge? You slept all night, time to get moving. Vet?" 

Hyrule swallowed the rest of his cookie then reared forward onto his knees to get his hands on Legend's shoulder and roll him onto his back. Legend rolled easily, head lolling into the dirt. Hyrule fanned a hand over his face, brushed a finger over his lips. Ice cold skin met his, and when he pulled up Legend's hands to check his pulse, he was met with blackened, cracked fingers. 

A gasp tore out of him at the sight. He dropped the rotting hand back onto Legend's still chest.

Still. Not moving. He wasn't breathing. 

"Guys! Guys, help! He's not breathing! Legend isn't breathing!"

Bodies crowded in around him with arms outstretched, poking and prodding at the immobile hero on the ground.

"Goddesses--"

"--Nayru help us--"

Sky crouched by Legend's head. "Hylia, look at his neck..."

Hyrule did. He wished he hadn't.

The tooth marks that'd been healed over last night were back, angry red. Blood had wept in thick reddish black rivulets into Legend's blond, now sticky, hair, and stained his cap a sickly maroon. Black skin circled the punctures and spread outward like spiderwebs across his neck and past the collar of his shirt. His eyes were opened a sliver. They were unseeing when Hyrule leaned in to take a look. Glassy. Sapphire irises were now ringed with red hemmhoraging.

He was dead. He was dead. Hyrule keened. He was dead.

"Spirits help us," said Twilight. "What do we do?"

Chapter Text

Hyrule's keening grew into a wail unlike any the group had ever heard from the normally quiet traveler. He bowed his head low, brow to chest, his own shuddering with the force of his sobs. 

His hands roamed the cool body of his brother as he heaved, uncoordinated hands pulling buttons, tearing old stitches, and catching on rough embroidery in need of repair. Anguish bored a hole through his middle and crawled up into his throat as bile he had to force down, too lost in his own mind to allow himself the relief of vomiting. 

He's dead. “He's gone.” He's dead. He's dead he's. Dead. Dead. Dead.

Legend promised. He promised to show him the orchard he was sowing in his uncle's memory. He promised to climb Spectacle Rock with him. 

Legend has promised he couldn't die in the same breath, when he'd been so concussed he could barely see straight. Hyrule hadn't taken him seriously then, of course– what kind of stupid promise was that, staying alive against all odds? Someone ought to die eventually in their line of work. Then, it'd only been lighthearted. He hadn't meant it. He hadn't actually thought one of them would die, not ever. 

Hyrule smoothed straw-blond hair back from the hero’s face, then he wiped away the tears drying tacky on his skin. 

The rest of the morning was a quiet affair. Hyrule did not leave Legend’s side for even a moment, not even to finish his breakfast. Rather, he sat vigil over the veteran and combed through his hair in silence. He cleaned stinking blood from the wounds in Legend’s throat with the hem of his own tunic. What water he had left in his waterskin went to cleaning the mess from the green under tunic, now stained. 

His tears had already been shed, leaving him with a hollow skull echoing with the aching throb of his heart. His eyes were gritty, gooey lashes catching every time he blinked. Through the congestion gumming up his nose, he could faintly smell the accursed rot taking hold of the body before him, several days early. 

Hyrule was shaking with the strain of keeping himself still. He set his waterskin aside and leaned forward to place his cheek against his brother’s chest. He shuddered. He felt sick. He wanted his brother back. 

Behind him, the rest continued their morning routine, subdued, feet shuffling as though they were unsure about making any noise. Through the cotton in Hyrule’s ears, he could hear bits and pieces of their conversations.

Warriors spoke first. “Wind, you must have some recollection of what happened, of what you saw. You were screaming.”

“I don't know what I saw! I don't remember!”

Twilight muttered. “If he says he don't remember, he don't remember. End of.” 

“And if it comes back?” Warriors asked. “What then? We need to be prepared.”

“We need to decide what to do with the body,” Time said, ever so pragmatic. “Has… has he ever told anyone what he would like us to do in the event of his passing…?”

Even the stoic voice of their eldest barely held against the barrage of emotion whipping through the camp. Their grief was torrential. 

“Don't touch him.” Hyrule bared his teeth at the group, overtaken by the desire, the need, to protect. “Don't touch him!”

Twilight approached him slowly, as he would a frightened goat. “Easy, traveler. We're not takin’ him nowhere, not right now. We just need to figure what we're doin’ here, when the time comes –”

“Go away!”

Hyrule has been overrun by madness before; fear so deep and visceral that the world narrowed down to one singular point in front of him and nothing else. In this case, the world was him, a nameless thing he had to protect with his life, and a pursuer, bristling with fur.

“Whoa, whoa– hey. Hey there, it's alright. Ease up there, firefly. No one's here to hurt you.”

“Give him room, rancher,” Time said from somewhere behind, where Hyrule couldn't see him. “Let him process.”

But Hyrule didn't much care for the comforts of either; he crouched low over his brother's body, his breaths coming in short, shallow bursts. His fingers were paling to the bone with how tightly he was clinging to Legend’s tunic. Please go away, please go away, he's dead, please go away. He squeezed his eyes shut and choked on the tears slid down his throat. Please go away. 

Soft fabric slid against the back of his neck, making him jump. His fingers untangled from the tunic to grab at his neck, soft, silky fibers slipping against his skin. 

Sailcloth. Sky. Sky's sailcloth. 

“There we go,” said the skyknight as he sat down beside Hyrule at an arm’s length. Hyrule felt his breath stutter, pick up, then slow again. “Take my hand?”

No, no, he had to make sure Legend was still there, he had to–

A gentle hand took his and threaded fingers between his own, leaving his left hand to remain tight around the sailcloth. 

The fingers tapped a message into his skin. Safe. Hyrule. Legend. Safe. 

All nine of them had developed that language together for events just like this one. He'd used it with Legend more than once during long nights when the sky got too dark. He'd seen Twilight use it with Wild. He didn't often let anyone use it on him. 

Breathe, Sky tapped against his palm. 

He did. In, out. In. Hold. Out again. 

Hyrule's vision opened up enough for him to see Sky to his right, sitting cross-legged beside him. The knight offered him a kind smile. His eyes shined with what Hyrule knew were tears. 

“Okay?” he asked.

Hyrule shook his shaggy head. Hair flopped in front of his eyes. 

“That's okay. Guys?” He met eyes with someone over Hyrule's shoulder. “Just… hang back a moment? We're good, Rulie. Take your time.”

They sat amidst the rustling of the group, Sky dozing easily by Hyrule's side, Hyrule there body but distant in mind. Magic sparked in the emotional void of his chest like hornets in a nest, scraping stingers across his bones. He rubbed the static electricity of thunder back down into his skin between the rough pads of his fingers. 

“Kakariko,” he said finally to Sky. “He… we need to take him to Kakariko.”

“Hm?” Sky shifted, glancing down at the veteran. “Oh. He said we were close. We can do that.”

“His uncle died a few months after his adventure,” Hyrule explained slowly. The others stopped when they heard him speak, but he could tell they were trying to look busy. “Legend wished for him back and he still died anyways. He buried him out back, said he wanted to plant apples there.”

“He told you all that?”

“Legend told me a lot of things. Like how he can't die."

Sky's face crumpled. “Rule…”

“Don't. Don't tell me. I already know. I should've known this could happen. I should've,” he twisted his balled fists against his trousers, “I should've kept an eye out. He always did it for me.”

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Sky replied gently. “Legend was important to all of us. I know he was to you, more than anything. But we're all struggling. We get it. I get it.”

Hyrule rubbed his palms down his face on either side of his nose, feeling the angry pulse of his sinuses. “It’s not fair of me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.”

“Don't be.” Sky squeezed a hand on his shoulder. “Grief doesn't let anyone go easy. Let's get him cleaned up and take him home.”

“Okay,” Hyrule gathered his legs under him to stand with Sky's support. “Okay.”

Sky held him steady. “Up we go. Guys? Are we good to go? Rulie and I will finish up here.”

Time nodded to the both of him, that singular eye of his softer than Hyrule was used to seeing. The crows feet in the corners were deeper today, the bruising prominent. Warriors didn't look much better besides him, his arms crossed and boots stirring the dirt restlessly. 

Wind hurried to Sky's side, peering over at Hyrule, then the body at their feet. “Can I help? Please.”

“Sure thing,” Sky said. 

Together the three of them wrapped Legend's body securely in blankets to protect him from the elements. The blood has been cleaned, his tunic straightened, his hair combed back from his face, which remained slack in death. Almost peaceful, were it not for the jagged veins marring his pale skin. The pink strip of his bangs took on a red tint in the rising sun. 

Belongings gathered and their brother secured, they began the trek toward the veteran's little house on the outskirts of Kakariko, like he would have wanted. 

The house itself was cluttered yet empty. Legend's merchant friend must be visiting town, Hyrule guessed, a little glad. He liked the weird man but right now, he didn't think he could bear to explain to another soul– didn't think he could deal with the merchant himself, nice as he was. He just wanted to curl up on his brother's bed and uphold a promise he never got to make.

He wondered what Legend would say to the growing saplings in his backyard. They weren't that big last time. 

They settled the body on the dining room table with as much gentleness as they could muster. Wind backed off into the other room immediately after, red in the face, and Wild wouldn't look at all. Twilight passed a palm over the vet's hair like he always did to soothe them. 

Sky set his hand flat against the still chest, issuing forth not a prayer, but a thanks to the hero before him. Four was more nervous, fidgeting, managing a quiet statement of affection Hyrule didn't quite catch. 

Time and Warriors held up the strongest, pillars in the storm. They watched the progression come to its end before offering their own goodbye– Time a palm to the cheek with a promise he wouldn't share, and Warriors with a kiss to the veteran's brow. 

Hyrule was last. He leaned weakly on the table, his face nuzzled into his brother's blue cap. Wild and Wind joined him only then, preening the fine tunic to perfection, smoothing down rumples that weren't there and smoothing back hair that didn't need it. Wind folded a silver coin into Legend's left hand. Wild bowed his head. Perhaps he was praying, but the words didn't matter to Hyrule. All that mattered was that they were all here to mourn together, to share the burden of pain. 

Hyrule has buried people before. Never a brother. He was unsure what that entailed.

When his neck started to ache from the awkward position, Hyrule sat up to find that he'd dozed– the rest of his kin were milling about the house, too afraid to touch anything now that its owner had left. He pulled back and stretched his arms over his head, then twisted his neck left to right. Vertebrae popped. 

“It's time to go,” he said. “I'll find you a good spot.”

His hand drifted to Legend's of its own volition, fingers touching rings, and–

“Agh!”

A zap of electricity startled a gasp from him. His skin singed.

Magic surged up within him, down his elbow and into his fingertips where it intertwined with something else, something familiar. Instinctively , it tangled up into a knot with this other he had no name for, begging, no, demanding that he acknowledge the buzzing thing he has found beneath Legend's skin. It burned. It hurt. It soothed where it bit and greeted him as an old friend would. He knew that bite almost as intimately as he knew the tang of his own magic because–

“Ledge–?”

– because it was Legend's. Brother to him, brother to his magic, kin beyond blood. 

Someone pulled him away from that beautiful magic and uttered incoherently in his ear.

“Goddesses, Hyrule, your hand– what the hell happened?!”

Warriors held him tight to his chest, the Captain's band working around to grab Hyrule’s wrist. The skin was magic-burned a wicked purple.

“Legend–” Hyrule squirmed but Warriors was stronger. “Wars, let go! He's here! I felt him!”

“He's gone, traveler.” He squeezed in an attempt at comfort. Hyrule whined. “You know that. Don't do this to yourself.”

“His magic, then! I felt it! Wars, please, please, I need see him!”

“It zapped him,” came Wind’s voice. The boy peeked around the corner. “I saw it too. I swear I did.” 

Hyrule felt Warriors breathe in and sigh against his back. “Magic can linger in places where it was strong. It'll protect vessels from tampering if it can. It's a reflex.” The man buried his nose into Hyrule's fluffy hair. For his own comfort, Hyrule wondered, or Hyrule's? “Stop. This whole place is hectic with magic.”

Wind swore loudly. “I know what I saw this time, Wars!”

“There's still something of him left. Dead magic doesn't feel like this.” Hyrule went slack, dropped out of Warriors’ arms, and rolled away. “This isn't it. Hear me out, for Farore’s sake!”

Warriors stood there glassy eyed, lips pursed, and wound so tight that Hyrule could see the flex of his muscles through his tunic. 

There was truth to Warriors statement; that magic, in the right concentrations in life, could linger on through death just as muscles and nerves did, and react all the same. Anyone with a well of magic equal to or greater than the remnant could tap into it like a spigot after sap and glean an idea of what left it behind. All magic dissipated with time, but when it was fresh? When it sparkled on the tongue like Legend's did? 

It wasn't a remnant. There was a soul somewhere keeping it tethered and strong. He knew it was there. 

Hyrule returned to the veteran's side, fingers finding the pulse at his neck. 

Nothing. His body was gone. It was already going stiff. Cold in death. Still.

Even so…

“I'm not imagining this,” he said. “I swear I'm not.”

“Say that he's… around, somehow, somewhere. How would you even prove that? What difference does it make if his body is…”

Rotting. Uninhabitable to a proper soul, much less that of a hero. 

Hyrule rubbed at the skin under his bracer. “... I'm not sure. You have to believe me and… that's all I can say. If you give me time, maybe I can…”

“I remember what I saw,” Wind blurted, shrinking when Hyrule and Warriors stopped mid sentence to stare. “Last night. I remember it now.”

Warriors watched the sailor through shrewd, squinting eyes. “What exactly do you mean?”

Wind shrank away from the sudden attention. His shoulders bunched. Then he steadied himself and stood straight, forcing unfaltering eye contact on the captain. 

“When that wizzrobe thing jumped him, that's when I saw it. I swear I saw the vet, cap’n, standing over his own body. I know I did and I stand by that.”

Hyrule fell to his knees with an exhale that scraped his lungs raw. 

“Hold on,” be said to no one in particular, even as Warriors grilled Wind on the details. “I've got you.”

---

The air wavered. His lungs seized, then his heart, and finally his brain screeched to a halt and the world stilled around him. All the while, he felt sharp; alert, aware of every vessel and every capillary and every nerve fiber from head to toe, their signals drowned out by a cascade of racing thoughts he couldn’t slow. Down, down, down he spiraled, into a cacophony of noise and not-noise, thoughts, more like, his thoughts, as their racing grew faster with every distant flutter of his heart–

Fear stung barbs into his chest. What was happening what happened where am I what happened oh goddesses oh Din Nayru Farore WINDFISH HELP ME–

Fingers forced his jaw shut. Ice passed through his not-skin. Claws tapped rhythmically into his brain, one tap for each stray tonight until they'd all been shaken loose into abyss around him. He had no bones anymore. He had no nerves. Numbness washed over him where the ice touched and then…

And then…

And then…

He opened his eyes. 

Freedom greeted him. He was weightless. He was light. No aches in his bones nor weariness in his muscles. 

Who are you? asked the ice from inside his not-self. 

I’m Link, he answered. I’m the Hero of Legend. I’m the Hero of Hyrule and Lorule, of Labrynna and Holodrum. The Subrosians know my name. 

I’m… Link?

I know my name. 

The abyss closed in around him, took his freedom, squashed him down into a pinprick of being. 

Of course you are. 

Chapter Text

The doubt Warriors leveled him with shouldn’t have surprised him. The captain was earnest, as always, eager to listen to Wind’s claims, content to listen to his own, but when all was said and done, he still doubted. He was the grounded one, Hyrule supposed. Keeping them on a straight path for their own good. Hyrule wondered if he should be more bothered by this knowledge, but he wasn’t. Not when he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his brother wasn’t gone, not entirely. Not wholly. A piece of him remained.

He was sure of it. He was. Wasn’t he? 

So let Warriors doubt. Let his solemn eyes watch Hyrule work all they wanted. It wouldn’t change a thing.

Hyrule reached out into that aether surrounding the corpse of his brother and felt around, sifting through the magical remnants. Rings resonated the loudest. Underneath that, the familiar song he’d always assigned to Legend. It sang as though through rippling water, an echo of itself, weak and far away and scattered.

Hyrule knew from experience that the magic of the dead felt heavy. A rotten fruit on the back of his tongue, or oil stains across a field. Hyrule had dealt with it before. He knew what to look for. 

This wasn’t it. 

The body was frigid beneath his hands now. He thought it felt unnaturally cold for a corpse and wrapped the blankets around tighter then pulled them snug to Legend’s chin. 

“Fine! I don’t care! Believe what you want!” Wind shoved past the captain and out the front door. Warriors let him go, that weary, worn down expression pinching his drawing together. 

The captain wouldn’t want pity for the pained, kicked expression on his face. Not from Hyrule, of all people, in the midst of losing his mind over a body. Not form him at all.

Legend would have something snarky to say about this. Maybe a saying about Warriors being so up his own ass that only moblins could hear him blather, but Hyrule thought that was a little much, considering. Uptight, maybe, strained and overly serious at times, definitely. Hyrule giggled at the mental image of Legend giving the good captain what-for, drawing the attention of the man in question. He snapped his jaw shut when their eyes met.

The captain didn’t look all that uptight in the light of Legend’s house. Hyrule thought he looked… wounded. “.. I’ll leave you two alone. I’m not trying to push. You know that, right? I worry about you lot all the time, and… I know it’s not always fair.”

Hyrule blinked owlishly then shrugged, unsure of what else was expected of him.

“Right,” Warriors said, squaring his shoulders. He gave Hyrule a firm nod and then he was gone, out the back door where the saplings were. 

That left Hyrule alone with the body. He fidgeted with the hem of his tunic.

He wished he could ask Legend’s opinion. He knew as much about magic as Hyrule did, after all. He’d know for sure. He’d spot the minute differences between the dead and the lost in a split second– where Hyrule was natural, he was learned. 

Tears pooled unbidden in his eyes. He scrubbed them away with the rough leather of his bracer before heading outside on Wind’s trail, unable to withstand that familiar, broken magic any longer. Not alone. Not in this house.

–

“Link?”

Warriors picked a seat by Time’s side and dropped his head into his hands. His shoulders shook under the weight of his mail. “What do I do?”

Ahead of them, the apple tree saplings rustled softly in the breeze. Here there was peace, not at all what Time expected of the wily veteran. Time turned to face Warriors. “They need to mourn, Wars. We all do. There isn’t anything to be done.”

“It shouldn’t be like this.”

Time cocked his head. “Like what?”

“They’re…” Warriors shook his head, scrubbed at his eyes until they bruised. “They’re so young. They shouldn’t be putting their friends to rest like this.”

Time bumped his shoulder against the captain’s and stayed there, offering touch with the option to move away. Warrior’s leaned in, instead. “We all were, when this started. The divine don’t care for youth and neither does tragedy. The best we can do now is offer support when they ask for it.” 

“We know they won’t,” Warriors replied. His eyes were red when he met Time’s own. “When have any of us ever?”

“That’s what happens when you’re Link.” Time scanned his single eye over the growing trees, filled with warmth at the vet’s attempt to grow something anew. How wondrous a sight, when so few of them had the chance to settle down peacefully. “I’m surprised. With how open Legend was about never settling down, this place is charming. He’s put a lot of love into these lands.”

Warriors chuckled wetly. “You’d make him blush if you told him that.”

“Good. He’d need to hear it. I should have told him before. I would have, if I’d known. He was a good one.”

“One of the best. I worry for them.”

“I’m aware. But Wars,” Time swiveled in his seat on the to face Warriors, noting the expanse of mourning behind pools of blue. They’re adept in their love, Time thought; he’d begun to crack under the pressure of it and those cracks showed like shining tear tracks down his cheeks. Time tried to think of the last time he’d seen the captain in such a sorry state, but came up short. “Worry as you must, but you must let them come to you. Stay open so they know, but you mustn’t push them. Our traveler must figure this out in his own time, as must our sailor. Why not speak to Sky? He’s been alone since this, and I feel as though he would more easily accept your aid than mine. You have a way with him.”

Something warm stirred the blue of Warriors’ eyes. His pupils were an empty black, but when Time dared to look closer, he could see the breadth of his brother’s pain, shining like pinpricks of stars in the golden light of the sun. Time knocked their knees together. 

“Sky… I haven’t seen him in a couple hours.”

Time jerked his chin in the direction of the saplings where the biggest ones grew and offered limited shade. “I think he finds comfort in this place.”

Warriors gazed longingly. “I’ll talk to you later. You’re sure he…?”

“I’m sure. He looks up to you. I know they all do.”

“Thank you, Time.” Warriors stood to brush off his tunic, but Time saw it for the stalling tactic that it was. “I’ll be back.”
Time closed his eye, let his head rest against the paneling of the house at his back. Perhaps later, when they showed themselves, he would find Twilight and Wild, whom he knew were too well hidden to track down now. A quiet rustle broke him of his reverie and he turned to see Four standing by his side, his hands wringing together. Time offered him space, his posture open, and the teen burrowed into his arms for a hug. There was no crying, no sobbing, for Four was awfully quiet at the worst of times, but his shoulder shook and his nose sniffled. 

Time held him close, nothing more. That was all that was asked of him here. 

—

Sparse woods lay at the foot of the hill Legend’s house sat on, with a noticeable path worn down between two great trees. Hyrule glanced over his shoulder at the house then jogged down the hill into the woods. If he had to venture a guess, this was where Wind had gone. It’s where he would’ve gone. It’s where Legend might have gone once upon a time. Hyrule retraced those steps down the path.

He found Wind kicking stones beside a dried up creek bed, his flowing tunic flying with the vigor with which he moved. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it anymore, Wars! Go away!”

“The captain’s back at the house,” Hyrule said on approach. “Just me.”

Wind’s head snapped up, lips drawn back in an ugly scowl. Those dark eyes locked on Hyrule for a long moment before he went loose and dropped his chin to his chest, sniffling away his anguish into the dirt at his feet. 

“What do you want?” he asked. He lowered himself down and fell back onto his bottom, his arms wrapping around his knees. “I don’t wanna talk.”

“I don’t want to either,” Hyrule remarked dully. “But…”

“You wanna know what I saw too? I did see it. I’m not lying. I’m no liar and the captain can shove it.”

Hyrule swung his arms, rocking from toes to heels. “I believe you saw Legend. I know you did.”

Wind poked one eye out of the barrier of his arms. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t think he’s dead,” Hyrule ventured, testing Wind’s reaction before continuing. When the boy only continued watching him attentively, he carried on. “I think he… got lost. Detached. Something like that. But I don’t think he’s dead.”

“I saw his ghost. You gotta be dead for that. But.. but he was hanging around, so… so not entirely? Not all the way dead?

It’s a funny thing to say, Hyrule thought, not all the way dead, because in a sense, he supposed it was true. “I guess so. I haven’t figured it all out yet.”

Wind set his chin in his hand, wearing the same look of pensiveness that Time often did. “The dead aren’t s’posed to linger a whole lot. They wander off real fast, get super lost all the time. If Ledge was hanging around long enough for me to see him…”

“There’s still something tethering him. Anyways, that’s my idea.”

“That’s a whole lotta magic I don't know anything about, Rule. Sorry. But can I help?”

Hyrule let himself smile. He knew it didn’t reach his eyes, not really. Wind returned it nonetheless. “I wouldn't turn you down, sailor. Um... I remember Ledge mentioning an old witch on the other side of the mountain. And... there's a good library in Kakariko."

Wind scrunched his nose. “We gotta do some reading? Really?"

Hyrule scrubbed a hand through his hair, greasy to the touch. “It's worth a shot. And, er, that merchant friend of his. He might be in town. I think I’m going to start with him.”

“Ravio? 

“Yeah…” He shook his head. “Legend said he had a good eye for magical artifacts and darker spells. Something about... Lorule being on the dark side of Hyrule, so he's more attuned to all that... stuff. Darker magic like this...  I can feel it, but I can't track it down.

"Wow, Rulie, I don't understand a thing you're saying." Wind hopped to his feet. "That's okay. I still wanna help."

Together, they left the forest, Hyrule taking the lead with Wind trotting behind, up the hill and around the side of the house that was - used to be, and would be again - Legend's. Hyrule still remembered the lecture Legend gave him a month ago about getting around in his Hyrule should the need arise, and he tried to put that mental map to good use by first finding the trodden path that led to town. Legend, it appeared, had once put down signs pointing the way. Hyrule didn't realize why until he and Wind had traversed the path about half a mile...

... Only to come up on a purple robed merchant carrying a large bag of goods. The merchant halted and nearly tipped over when he spotted them.

"Oh. Oh dear. Well, hello there!" Ravio called, carefully extricating one hand from his bag to wave.

Wind wasted no time in sprinting up to him. "Ravio!"

"I don't know anyone by that name."

"We know who you are," Hyrule said with a weary grin. "We need your help."

"My help?" The bunny hood flopped to one side as the man scratched his chin. "My help? What for? Why? I can't help you. Nope. Now, if you don't mind--"

"It's Legend! Link!" Wind explained, stepping ever closer into Ravio's space. The merchant leaned back. "Something's wrong with him!

"I... Mr. Hero... needs my help?"

Hyrule nodded. "Yes, he does. Will you help?"

Ravio sighed. He hefted the bag a little higher up on his shoulder before resuming his march up the hill toward Legend's house. It was... somewhat amusing to watch the man lope up the trail with that massive bag over his shoulder, and Wind wisely chose to stay close behind in case the man toppled. Hyrule followed close on their heels.

"Ah, well, I suppose..." Ravio said. "Might I at least put my earnings down first?"

-

Sense came back to him in fits and starts. A memory here, an impression there, a sensation to tie it together with a sudden spark of revelation. Rinse and repeat, until his parts were gathered into a facsimile of the Hero of Legend. That’s who he was. The concept of identity kept slipping from his intangible fingers and each time it did, he had to gather it up all over again until sheer spite kept it glued together.

Spite, and a painful amount of willpower that was exhausting to maintain. 

He was the Hero of Legend, and he was stuck in a box. A cage, more like, intangible as he was, infinitely small and infinitely vast. Though he lacked eyes to see, he could tell he was in a room as well, not just his box, dim and damp with a dingy cell door on one side and two torches on the other. They were blessedly warm, even if he couldn’t reach them. 

Link - Legend, he was Legend to the ones who mattered most - twisted around in his confines.

“Hello?!” he shouted into the empty room. “Is anyone there?!”

He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t. The oppressive loneliness gnawed at him, so deep and all consuming that he panicked, for only a moment, and wondered if he’d ever even met another person at all.

Legend gathered himself up into a corner and then pushed as hard as he could against the wall of the box to no avail.

Frustration soured in his center. Had he possessed a stomach, he might have been nauseous. Distressingly, he felt nothing at all. Only that eternal darkness, the empty silence, and the repetition of his own thoughts.

He wound himself up tight once more. “Hello!”

“Ah, I’m glad to see you as one whole at last. You left pieces of yourself everywhere, I worried we wouldn’t be able to speak for some time.”

Shock startled him into total stillness. Uncertainty pricked at his consciousness and had he had a heart, he was certain it would be pounding.

He hated it; he hated the unworn path, loathed the simple joys of getting lost, despised the unknowable depths of the dark. He’d lived a life of knowing, of surety, even when the journey ahead crumbled into what-ifs and what-fors. He would find the princess, he would find the pendants, he would scour the dark world for its pig-king or die trying, and that was that. When the nightmare took hold, his surety was shaken, but never was it threatened. When adventure took him to uncharted lands he could barely fathom, he still knew well what was expected of him. 

He hated it. He hated it. He hated it. There was nowhere for his hate to go, not inside this box. He could know nothing in this prison, not even where he began and ended. 

A presence brushed against his own and he clawed and bit it back and away from him. “Don’t be afraid,” it said to him, saccharine in the way a parent would speak to their unruly child. 

“I’m not afraid!” 

“Yet you remain hidden from my sight.”

“I can’t see you! I can’t see anything!” The torches flickered. He could feel them wavering against the force of his upset. “Who are you? Where am I? What is this? Let me out!”

“That’s not up to me to decide.”

“What does that even mean? What the hell are you talking about?” Legend strained, this time met with the pain of overstretching. He had no muscles to overstretch that he could feel, so how? Why did he feel so uncomfortably tired, all of a sudden. Empty. Floaty like when his heart was beating out of his chest. Had he still possessed a stomach, he might have gagged, and had he still possessed hands, he might have torn at his hair, his clothes, his skin-- anything for proper physical sensation.

The voice chuckled darkly. "Don't expend all that you are at once. 

-

Two robed figures stood in reverence before a slim decanter of black glass. Inside swirled a restless brume, a sickly purple-gold in the dim light of the twin lanterns hanging above. Sealing the contents was a ruby fresh from the mines and cut to a ragged, teardrop shaped point that glinted in the dim torchlight. The silence of the room was punctuated by an occasional rattle of the decanter, its glass surface shifting and expanding as though whatever filled it was writhing within. 

Drop by drop, golden light filled in the ruby’s hollowed center from below. 

"He's fighting it," said one figure.

"For now. I have an idea. Wait here for my signal."

The bottle rattled once more.