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The Hero of Time's story starts out a simple one…
The people of Hyrule - and beyond, even - know well the tragic beginning that onsets what would only become an even more tragic tale. They know the story begins with a young mother. A Hylian woman - and her infant son, two survivors of the vicious war that had befallen Hyrule for several long, dark years. The story states that the young mother had taken her child away, to a place beyond the battlefield - a forbidden forest, dangerous to outsiders who might wander inside and lose themselves among the trees. Those who knew of the forest knew not to enter; no Hylian, Gerudo or Sheikah dared to venture beyond the land they'd claimed. For they all knew the forest belonged to another. The guardian spirit of the Lost Woods, and the father of the Kokiri. The Deku Tree was said to be one of the most powerful beings in all of Hyrule itself.
This power kept unwanted outsiders out, and shielded those the Deku Tree claimed as family. Every child within his gentle care would forever be under his protection, and so long as they remained in the forest, where his powers could reach them, their lives would be filled with peace and joy and love. As the war still raged, the Kokiri were safe, under their father's watchful eye.
The legend would have you believe that the mother had taken her infant son to the forest with the intention of entrusting his safety and care to the Deku Tree, to be raised as one of his own.
But that's not how it happened.
The mother never made it to the Deku Tree. This was long before the bridge was built. During this time, the only ones who could make it into Kokiri Village were those who had lived and grown with the forest. The young mother couldn't navigate the Lost Woods; already mortally wounded and frantic in her escape, she was quick to fall victim to the twists and turns and traps of the forest. She didn't make it much further beyond the entrance to the forest itself. Bleeding and weak, the Hylian had collapsed against a tree with her crying son cradled against her chest.
The baby's cries sounded loud and strong through the forest, bouncing across trees and echoing through tunnels. Animals and Kokiri alike tried to find where the noise was coming from, but the infant's cries seemed to come from every direction. Nobody could tell where he was.
Nobody, except, someone who knew the forest like the back of his hand…
The Kokiri, while allowed to venture far beyond their village, deemed it unsafe to try to go further than the trees that circled their camp. Despite living in the forest, it was still uncharted territory. Their fear and caution for the unknown kept them from traveling and exploring too far, and the fairies didn't tend to stray from the children they protected. But there was another inhabitant of these dangerous, dark woods, one who had nothing better to do with his time than to explore.
He appeared from nowhere like magic, swooping down from the trees and landing mere inches away from the mother and her child. He landed, and stared, as the baby opened his eyes wide.
The crying stopped for a second, the baby's eyes locked with his own.
Skull Kid found himself at a loss for words.
He was small… so dangerously small. Something about his round, pinched face was familiar, but Skull Kid couldn't really place it. He crept closer, minding the young woman curled protectively around the child, and leaned in slightly to get a better look. The sounds it was making was familiar, too - little, soft whimpers as his lips trembled, hitching breaths and quiet huffs as it teetered on the edge of bursting into tears again. His hair was blonde and wispy like feathers, almost unnoticeable against his pale skin, but sure to darken as the infant aged. Skull Kid watched a tiny hand curl and clench against the baby's small chest, rising and falling with shuddering breaths, and couldn't resist reaching out a finger to touch the child's smaller ones.
So small, and so fragile. Skull Kid could hear the humming of his blood beneath his skin, racing through his veins. The warmth… ever so carefully, he brushed his wooden fingers up under the infant's hand, curling them against his palm and tracing the lines he found against his soft skin.
The baby tolerated this rather calmly. His hand was still against Skull Kid's, and his crying had long ceased. Tears glistened at the corners of his eyes, trapped there against his eyelashes and glimmering like crystals, as his eyes traced every inch of Skull Kid's face. Somewhat self-conscious, he almost allowed himself to hide behind the flaps of his hat, but there was no judgement in the young one's wide eyes, and so Skull Kid let it be, and continued his inspection.
He turned his hand over, the baby's tiny fingers splayed out against the wood of his palm. Five small, warm, twitching fingers, thrumming gently with a quiet heartbeat. The kind of heartbeat Skull Kid didn't have anymore. With silent fascination, he ran his thumb across each little finger, counting them as he went, and proceeded to bring the baby's other hand up to do the same.
Ten little fingers. He rubbed his fingers across the infant's knuckles, softer than his own, and studied the way the baby was curled into his mother's arms, which were dangerously loose.
He thought he had a mother, once. The thought lingered for a moment and vanished in a flash when the infant's tiny hands moved away from his own, and his arms stretched upwards, shaking with the strain of holding them up. He reached out for Skull Kid, and let out a whine.
Understanding clouded his mind like a thick fog, and he moved onto his knees to curl both of his hands around the baby's tiny, trembling body. His arms moved somewhat instinctively as he gathered the infant into his arms, mimicking the mother's pose and cradling him with a slightly shaking elbow propped just between the boy's shoulders and head, nestled against the back of his neck while the rest of his arm curled underneath the infant to support the rest of him fully.
He found himself breathless and lightheaded and completely, absolutely mesmerized. The baby's heartbeat seemed louder now, now that Skull Kid was holding him against his own chest. So loud and so strong that he could pretend, for just a moment, that it was his own.
He flexed his fingers out, slow and careful, and pressed his hand against the baby's chest. His breathing hitched a little, and his hand flinched, but he didn't move away. His heart beat so strongly against Skull Kid's hand that he was almost afraid it would burst free, but it didn't. It vibrated through every inch of him, drawing an instinctive shiver from the boy. The infant let out a quiet sound through his nose, almost like a hum, and with slow and somewhat jerky movements, brought one of his hands up to Skull Kid's arm. His fingers found the scarred, chipped lines etched into the wood, like carvings in a tree, and his eyes widened curiously.
Skull Kid hesitated, but allowed the baby's small fingers to scrabble against his arm for a moment, searching for a hold Skull Kid didn't think he would find. When he seemed to be growing irritated, the boy gently took his tiny hand between two fingers and guided his arm back up, laying the boy's hand against his own chest and reaching down to brush his fingers across a flushed, pudgy cheek. The infant let out another one of those humming sounds, then sighed.
He settled into Skull Kid's arms then, relaxed, and brought his eyes up to his face.
His eyes, Skull Kid thought, his eyes were his favorite.
They were blue. So blue, like the bluest sky. He peered closer, a hand resting against the infant's cheek, quietly counting the different flecks of darker blues and greens he could see.
He resisted the urge to touch them, tried to remember what color his eyes used to be. They were a dull amber now, stuck in his wooden face like buttons. He hated them. But the infant's eyes were beautiful. Skull Kid traced a finger across the side of his face, from his temple to the corner of his eye, brushing across his eyebrows and daring to run a fingertip across an eyelash.
He was beautiful.
The infant yawned and shivered, then, and the reality of the situation finally registered.
His eyes went toward the young Hylian woman. Dead, he knew. Skull Kid couldn't sense a heartbeat or any warmth from her. Something in his hollow chest twisted, something like grief.
He wished he could keep him, but he knew he couldn't.
He did, however, know just where to take him.
In the end, it was Skull Kid who brought the infant to the Deku Tree. He didn't say a word, didn't need to; the moment he set the boy down in front of the tree, he was practically swarmed by the other children and covered in fairies, and it wasn't long before the baby quietly began to laugh.
Skull Kid stayed to listen for a moment, like one would stop to admire music, a song.
Then, whisked away like magic just as quickly as he'd appeared, he left.
But he never forgot those blue eyes.
He never forgot that heartbeat.