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Link pulled away from the Sheikah Stone and was immediately hit by a wave of dizziness. He blinked, shaking his head to try to clear the fog of exhaustion. He had to keep going. He was so close. He only needed to free one more giant. He had to go back to the Stone Tower.
His efforts were impeded halfway to the double doors by the abrupt presence of the man known only as the Happy Mask Salesman.
“Link… wait.”
He hesitated.
“I can’t. I’m almost there… I can almost get your mask back.”
“...Link. You’re in no condition to do that. Time loops… can take a terrible toll on a person.”
His voice was soft, full of genuine concern. His body language, however, was full of something else.
Fear.
Link had had his suspicions that the merchant knew about the time travel. But why be so afraid to admit it?
“So you do know…”
“Yes. I know it seems that I know… too much. And that it likely makes me seem untrustworthy. But— Link— you’ve been pushing yourself much too far. I’m telling you this because I am a time traveler myself, and I know the risks that such magic carries. If you go back to Ikana… I… I don’t want any more terrible things to happen to you…”
Something in the Salesman’s nervous rambling caught Link’s attention.
“...How did you know I was in Ikana?”
All the color drained from the Salesman’s face. His eyes were visible now. Blood red. Maybe he was a Sheikah? It would certainly make sense.
“Because,” he said, so quietly his voice was barely audible over the churning of the ancient machinery inside the Clock Tower, “I’ve been watching your back.”
“You’ve… what?”
“I was the owl…”
Holy Hylia. Link could only stare. Little strokes of luck, sometimes big ones, shielding him from danger… had it all been the Salesman’s magic?
“Here. You need to stop and rest, and… and I’ll explain everything.”
The temptation of definitive answers from this living enigma of a man was too much for Link’s tired mind to resist. He approached, and the Salesman, his magical prowess no longer a secret, conjured two heaps of pillows and two tin mugs of tea. Sitting down, Link accepted the warm herbal tea and eagerly listened to whatever the Salesman could clarify.
“I was born here in Termina,” he began, “a long time ago. I used my magic to travel to Hyrule. I saw… well… everything. The reason I have such confidence in you… stems from knowing what you have done. I was there, you know. At Lon Lon Ranch. At the celebration…”
Link nearly choked on his tea.
“You… you know? About the Master Sword? About the Sages, and… and Ganon?”
“...Yes. You are the Hero of Time. I’ve been projecting out from here to follow you, to… to help you. Because you’ve already been through far too much…”
Link was dumbfounded. He was the first person to actually say something like that. The sorrow in those red eyes, the pain this man felt, for him… Link didn’t know how to react. All he knew was that it felt so, so good to hear him say that. Before his sleep-deprived mind was able to catch up, Link had already put down his tea and was pressing himself into the Salesman’s arms.
He hugged him, never wanting to let go of the one man who not only knew the true extent of his suffering, but was standing up for him. Rauru never protected Link with his magic. Rauru had never sympathized with him, had never encouraged him to rest.
It was something new, something Link hadn’t realized just how much he needed.
“Thank you…” he sobbed into the Salesman’s oversized coat.
The little wizard wrapped his arms around Link in turn, shushing him, speaking so kindly and gently to him, slowly stroking the back of his head, all the little things that Link needed . He held Link as if he were his own son, and it was the single most beautiful thing Link had ever felt.
“Time in the outside world will not pass here. You can rest.”
Link smiled. He was safe.
But in his sleep-deprived fog, something occurred to him.
In Ikana, he had heard more about the tribe that created not only Majora’s Mask, but the borderline-eldritch Stone Tower. The legends he’d heard from the skeletal Kingdom of Ikana had described them as having red eyes. Pamela’s father had said his research into the cursed state of Ikana suggested… there were survivors of whatever cataclysm had seemingly destroyed them…
It would explain so much...
“Salesman, are… are you an Ancient One?”
The reaction was instantaneous.
The Salesman froze. The tension in his body was almost painful, the terror in his eyes palpable. Looking up at him, Link immediately knew that he genuinely and completely feared for his life.
“...Yes,” he whispered, “I… I am not your enemy, Link…!”
“My enemy?”
Why was the Salesman so afraid of him?
“...My people were killed be… because of the actions of their rulers… We are still deemed enemies of the gods, I… please. Link. I am not your enemy…!”
“Mr. Salesman, I… just wondered. I don’t think you’re evil or anything…!”
Link hugged him back, and his crumbling facade of calm disintegrated completely. With the realization that Link had no malicious intent behind the question came tears. How long had he lived on the run from some kind of divine retribution for being born into the wrong race? How old was he?
“I, I, oh dear, I’m… I’m sorry, Link, I…”
Link pressed his head against the Salesman’s collarbone, hoping the physical contact and affection was making the Salesman feel better like it was for him. The Salesman hugged him like he was a teddy bear, both of them seeking and receiving the comfort they had needed for so, so long…
“You’re resting with me…” Link mumbled into the Salesman’s coat.
The wizard laughed. He rested his chin against the top of his head, accepting the comfort. He was accustomed to only giving, not receiving…
“I suppose I should… Thank you, Link. For everything.”
“No, thank you… you’ve been doing so much and… I didn’t even know…”
Exhausted, Link nestled into the scrawny merchant’s many layers of clothes. He was so tired. Sleep overtook him within minutes.
The Salesman’s own descent into sleep was briefly interrupted by Tatl awakening and flying out of Link’s hat.
“Hey, what—“
“Shhhh… Link is asleep…!”
“You… got him to rest?!”
The Salesman nodded, careful not to wake the young hero. Tatl shook her head. He really was a wizard...