Chapter Text
Hyrule’s hands ghosted over Wild’s prone figure, the warmth of his magic glowing softly out of his palms, connecting him deeply within Wild. He sifted through vital systems like books, scanning through each one to assess any problems, but finding nothing amiss. Despite the vulnerable unconsciousness of Wild’s body, by all intents and purposes, he was sleeping.
The claw-marks from Wolfie had been an easy fix, despite what the Rancher clearly thought. He hadn’t shown his face after the incident, remaining as the beast in a far corner, keeping an eye on the forest with his ears fixed in Wild’s direction.
Time had advised the Chain (particularly Wind) to just leave him alone for the time being.
Hyrule had no problem with that. He had bigger problems to worry about. Twilight would come to his senses eventually, he hoped.
The Sheikah Slate was laid out nearby, presenting Wild’s vitals to Hyrule, though they weren’t much use. They were just numbers to Hyrule after all. At least he would know outright if Wild was in distress, though.
Hyrule breathed deeply, sending tendrils of magic through Wild’s body again, gently weaving around inside to try and detect any abnormalities. Just like the last two times he’d searched, though, everything was in working order.
His heart pumped steadily, slow with his slumber, but effective. His breaths matched the slowed pace of his body, drawing in the required amount before releasing. Digestion moved at a normal pace, although sluggish with his unconsciousness. His temperature had dropped slightly, but to a normal degree, as was also normal with sleep. No signs of trauma or injury bled into Hyrule’s magic. Although it was oddly mechanical compared to the normal body, it wasn’t odd for Wild. The Shrine of Resurrection had saved his life in the past, permanently changing him, but maybe it was the only thing keeping him alive now.
Wild’s mind worried Hyrule the most. Instead of the tiny sparks dancing through his magic, as common when one was dreaming, Wild’s mind was a ghost town. With maybe a tumbleweed or two taking up the space. There was barely anything there, like his mind was almost completely lost in a different location. Hyrule could feel the very edges of magic, but touching for too long strained him.
“Is he okay?”
Hyrule’s magic wobbled, his focus jolted by the familiar voice chattering in his ear. He strengthened it again, releasing a slow breath, one eye cracking open to regard the young teenager hovering nearby. “I’m trying to figure that out, Wind,” he remarked smoothly.
Wind rested his cheek on Hyrule’s shoulder, huffing, his breath reeking of fish Warriors had painstakingly cooked for breakfast, likely bland and unseasoned. “You’ve checked three times.”
“And I’ll probably check a fourth, too.” Hyrule lifted a brow. “Did you need something?”
“No,” Wind’s eyes slid down to rest on Wild, an uneasy sorrow filling them. “I mean, you should come eat. That’s… why I’m here.”
Hyrule imagined Wind was just talking to him as an excuse to be worried about Wild. He tore his gaze away from the kid to look down at Wild, too. Peaceful. Alive. Unresponsive. “Whatever’s wrong with him won’t kill him.” he said.
Wind’s gaze snapped up to him, hope flaring in those once sad, sea-green eyes. “Really?”
Hyrule released his magical hold, shuddering when cold reality swept back around him, lacking the familiar warmth that came with being so close within someone. He shook his head, half to clear it, half to ease Wind’s mind. “No… this won’t kill him.”
He lifted his gaze, ready to call Time over, but the leader was already fast approaching with a cup of sugar milk. He handed it over, one hand resting on Hyrule’s back, his gaze fixed on Wild.
“You have a verdict?” Time asked.
Hyrule shrugged, cupping the warm drink between his trembling fingers. He took a slow sip, the sugar helping to perk him up a bit, melting his fatigue, the milk a welcome, creamy relief. “He’s sleeping,” he huffed after swallowing. “Far as I can tell, unconscious.”
“Did you check for a curse?” Time settled beside Wild’s head, smoothing hair out of his face.
“Three times,” Hyrule remarked shakily, a tinge of shame flashing through him when Wind deflated next to him. “It’s not a curse, whatever it is. There’s a spell keeping him under, but his mind is… oddly quiet. Usually, in this state, he’d be dreaming.”
Legend hovered nearby, arms crossed over his chest. “You can tell if he’s dreaming?” He deadpanned.
“I mean… yeah?” Hyrule shrugged, staring down at the white liquid steaming softly in the cup. “If I look hard enough. I can see if I dig far enough, but that’s a spell even I can’t really do.”
“This coming from the guy who can turn into a pink bunny?” Warriors teased Legend nearby.
Legend glared at him. “I’m not… feeling around someone’s insides!” He barked.
Hyrule’s shoulders slumped a bit and he released a soft breath through his nose. “It’s a good thing someone around here will, then, right?” He remarked.
What some might have described as gross, Hyrule felt more as… intimate. Close. Like a warm embrace. He didn’t see healing magic as peering through privacy like a pervert, he saw it more as ensuring security within others. He saw it more as relieving pressure, easing weariness.
Legend’s magic, in his opinion, was far harsher— blasts and explosions, tricks and violence. Most of the magic Legend utilized Hyrule saw as ‘too much.’ A gentle, intimate touch much closely suited his needs.
“You said it won’t kill him, right?” Wind leaned in eagerly, the pendant around his neck dangling.
“The spell he’s under? No.” Hyrule shook his head, sipping the creamy sweetness again. “The starvation? Dehydration? Deterioration? More likely.”
Wind slumped further, sinking into a knees-to-chest position with a heaving sigh. “Alright…” he grumbled. “Jeez. Sorry I asked.”
“So, as far as you can tell, it’s not a curse?” Time clarified, sitting down beside Hyrule as well.
“I mean… it’s not a malicious curse. It’s, like… a sleeping curse or something.” He huffed a breath, shoulders rising to his ears in frustration. “I healed the external wounds. Digging deeper is… different. Riskier.
Time squeezed his shoulder with a sigh. “I know it’s a lot to ask from you,” he began calmly, clearly setting up for his next big inquiry. “But would you be able to dig deeper? Pull him out? Wake him up?”
Hyrule chewed his lip, fingers reaching down to squeeze Wild’s limp fingers, warm and secure to ease his racing mind. “His mind… is quiet, Time,” he began carefully. “Too quiet.”
Time’s brows furrowed, pinching together with confusion as Hyrule struggled to explain himself. “Sometimes people don’t dream,” the leader said. “Is it possible that he’s stuck in this trance, just not dreaming?”
“It’s… it’s like there’s pieces missing from him,” Hyrule awkwardly explained. “Like… like when you’re doing a puzzle and you search for twenty minutes for the right piece and it’s on the floor, out of reach.”
Time chewed his lip, his eyes kept down, even when the remaining seven surrounding pairs flashed to him. Hyrule doubted he’d have the answers either. “You said… you can see into his dreams,” he looked up. “I know you said he isn’t dreaming, but is it possible for you to safely take a deeper look? Just to see?”
Hyrule hung his head, sighing, berating himself for his own damn limits. He kept his gaze on Wild’s limp hand, squeezing gently, shamefully refusing to meet anyone’s eye. “That’s… more sorcerer-level.”
“Then what else can we do?” Wind asked in a small voice, rocking nervously. “We can’t just… leave him to die!”
“He’s not gonna die,” Warriors nudged Wind with his foot, stopping his rocking. “We’ll figure something out. Don’t worry.”
“What else can we do?” Wind squeaked, his eyes wider than saucers, a pathetic sight that just made Hyrule feel worse about his own weakness.
“There’s always… piggybacking?” Legend piped up, tensing a bit when everyone turned to look at him. “I mean… not that I wanna root around. That’s… it’s gross. Weird. But I’m powerful, you know? I have magic… so… if you can’t push your magic enough, maybe both of us can manage it. Maybe… We could do sorcerer-level.”
“You wanna look behind the curtain?” Warriors asked, lifting a brow, nudging Legend’s shoulder. “Color me surprised.”
“Of course I don’t want to look behind the curtain!” Legend complained. “But… if that’s the only way to reach him, then…” he shrugged, eyes sliding around as if to say, ‘what’s the big deal?’ “Look, I don’t have a choice, okay?”
“Roolie?” Time elbowed Hyrule. “You think you can manage that if he gives you some power?”
“That’s still a lot of power,” Hyrule mumbled, chewing his lip, studying the peaceful relaxation of Wild’s face. He could only imagine what those eyes were seeing.
“Fi can help,” Sky yawned, rubbing his eyes, his sandy hair sticking up in a mess around his head.
“The… sword?” Four piped up tentatively.
“The spirit in the sword,” Sky corrected him with a sleepy half-glare. “She has magic. We’ve got…” his eyes scanned the group. “Seven swords? So… seven sources of magic.”
“Eight,” Four prodded Wild’s sheath with his boot, crouching down to pull out the Master Sword from the fallen Champion’s back. The blade pulsed softly, clearly severely weakened, but it would have to do. He lifted it high with both hands, a grin stretching across his face despite the situation. “Looks like I get to carry one after all.”