Chapter Text
It had been a long night. In fact, it had been a long two nights in a row.
Sky had managed to catch a few short intervals of sleep, here and there, but in between various fragmented nightmares, a few unsuccessful attempts at the meditation exercises that Dusk (his descendant, apparently?! Whoa) had suggested the previous day, and several long bouts of competitive staring contests with the ceiling, he was left feeling distinctly unrested by the time the first rays of dawn began to peer through the windows of Twilight’s home.
Wind was already awake and quietly sorting through his belongings off to the side. Sky might have gone over to check on him once again, but that ran the risk of waking Four, who had merged once again and successfully conked out several hours back, or Warriors, who had tossed and turned all night but remained worryingly weak and lethargic whenever Sky had checked in.
Vulnerable as they all were, it had been easy enough to justify keeping the bulk of Dusk’s warnings to himself, at least for the moment. He had, however, gladly shared her prediction about when the others would return, if only to justify to the others why rushing off on some impulsive nocturnal rescue mission was so ill advised. Four’s alters had had a predictably mixed reaction to the news, but at least they’d been honest about it. He’d rather cuddle a distressed Red and soothe an angry Blue than watch Wind and Warriors bury their own anxieties and try to comfort him. As if that was in any way necessary.
Sky was fine, after all. And he would, he had decided, be even finer, just as soon as dawn arrived and the others arrived with it.
…Except that they hadn’t. Not yet.
Sky supposed he should have asked Dusk for a more specific timeline. After all, what did “dawn” mean, exactly? Was it the moment the sun started to peer over the horizon, or the moment it finished rising and the orange and rose shades of early morning gave way to the bright blues of daytime? Was there a specific hour or minute or second that he could pin “dawn” to? Did she mean dawn as in six o’clock exactly, or as in one minute past six o’clock? Just how long was Sky supposed to wait? At what point should he really start panicking?
It was right about then, when Sky was beginning to weigh up the pros and cons of really, really starting to panic, that his five missing companions abruptly teleported back into place.
Just like that.
The relief smacked into him like a face-first sky dive into the lightly padded floor of Fun Fun Island. Not hard enough to bruise or break anything, but definitely solid enough to leave him stunned. As such, it took another few seconds for Sky to register the fact that something was… not quite right. And in the few seconds after that, Time wobbled, then collapsed to the floor.
Sky’s heart dropped.
‘Time!’ he yelled, frantically dashing over. ‘Twi– Legend!’ His eye roved rapidly from crisis to crisis. ‘Hyrule?! Wild!’ Goddess, but there were a lot of crises, all of a sudden. ‘Twilight, what –?!’
From the floor, Time gave some vaguely obnoxious-sounding mumble. Twilight bristled in response. Too bad; Sky was in full panic mode.
‘Twilight,’ he snapped, ‘what’s going on? What happened? No, wait –’ An awful thought struck, and he swiftly added, ‘Please tell me you aren’t hurt?!’
‘I’m fine,’ Twilight answered reluctantly, and it was, unfortunately, far too familiar of a response to really assuage much of Sky’s concern. Twilight continued heedlessly, ‘Time’s fine too; he’s just an idiot who used too much magic. Right now, I’m mostly worried about Legend and Hyrule.’
‘What happened with them?’ asked Warriors. Sky wasn’t sure when exactly his other three companions had slid into place nearby, but he could almost cry with the relief their presence brought.
Twilight, for his own part, seemed… oddly frustrated. ‘I don’t actually know what happened,’ he admitted gruffly. ‘Time was supposed to explain things later.’ He jabbed an accusing thumb in the direction of a man who was clearly in no condition to explain any such thing. ‘All I know is that Legend and Hyrule were injured somehow, while we were separated. He –’ Twilight pointed at Legend ‘– has a bunch of broken bones. And he –’ Twilight pointed at Hyrule ‘– has some nasty burns, plus a fever. Not sure how he got so sick so quickly. Maybe some kind of poison? A deku baba or something?’
Twilight didn’t seem particularly sure of anything he was saying, Sky couldn’t help but notice. It was hard to take much confidence from that.
(It was fine. Everything was fine. Not even on fire a little. It was FINE.)
‘And Wild?’ Warriors prompted with his usual stalwart, militant calm. Faced with an unfortunately logical new consideration, Sky grudgingly rescheduled his impending breakdown.
‘Not injured, as far as I know,’ Twilight answered. ‘Just… exhausted, I think. But maybe check him over too, once you’re done with the others?’
‘Alright, then,’ Warriors said decisively. ‘Sky, you check Hyrule. I’ll look over Legend. Everyone else: we’re going to need some space, plus a few bedrolls. Think you can arrange that?’
Wind and Four scowled, but acquiesced upon the apparent realisation that with Hyrule down, Sky and Warriors were the only ones with any real medical training. Not that his time at the Knight Academy had, in any real sense, prepared Sky for this specific type of situation. Or perhaps he’d slept through that particular class.
He leaned in regardless, and placed a tentative hand on Hyrule’s flushed face, wincing at the heat he found. There was an odd blue streak in Hyrule’s hair, but it didn’t seem particularly relevant to his immediate health and wellbeing, so Sky put it aside for the moment. Instead, he placed his ear on Hyrule’s chest and listened carefully. His heartbeat was strong and steady, as was his breathing, though there was a slightly harsh edge to the latter. Definitely sick, but not actively dying, as far as Sky could tell. Small wins.
He lifted his gaze, only to find Warriors frozen in place, staring down at Legend with a deep furrow in his brow. ‘Wars?!’ he prompted immediately.
Warriors’s gaze flickered to his. Sky watched as the short burst of animal panic was quickly tucked away. ‘Legend needs surgery,’ Warriors advised flatly. ‘Either that, or some seriously powerful healing magic.’ He turned his head to ask, ‘Twilight. Does Ordon have a surgeon? Or a healer? Or maybe a Great Fairy?’
Sky looked down at Legend. His tunic lay open, revealing clotted blood, swollen skin and blossoming red and purple bruising all across his upper chest and left shoulder. Closer inspection – while trying not to vomit – revealed odd lumps and dips where bones had visibly shifted out of place.
‘Oh, Goddess,’ Sky choked out. He shook his head and made an effort to steady himself.
‘Closest thing would be the village herbalist,’ Twilight was saying grimly. ‘My father has a little training too, but I wouldn’t call him a surgeon. No mages nearby, and definitely no Great Fairies; the only one I ever met is on the opposite side of Hyrule. I might be able to find a lesser fairy or two near Ordon Spring, though there were none there the other day.’
‘Only a herbalist? What about a doctor?’ Warriors asked desperately.
Twilight grimaced. ‘Not in Ordon. We could call in help from elsewhere, but that would be several hours, at least. Possibly days. Can he wait that long?’
Warriors paused and took a few deep, controlled breaths. ‘Can’t be helped,’ he said tightly. ‘Call the herbalist. We’ll figure something out. An interim fix, at least, and some pain medication to tide him over. Grabbing a fairy is a good idea, too, but don’t take too long searching. And don’t go alone. Sky, can you accompany him to the village?’
‘But –’ Sky began automatically, only to realise he didn’t have any real arguments to make. Just that everyone was finally back in one place, albeit significantly worse for wear, and he didn’t want to change that fact. Not to mention the grim look in Warriors’s eyes that suggested the “interim fix” for Legend’s injuries was going to be a well-intentioned hack job.
Looking at those injuries again, Sky had to bite back yet another wave of nausea. Clearly, something had to be done, but it would be delicate work. Work requiring expert knowledge and a steady set of hands. Anything less would risk Legend’s mobility, if not his life.
‘There – there has to be something… someone…’ Sky muttered to himself. He blinked. ‘…Oh.’
‘What is it?’ Warriors asked tersely.
‘Uh. Well, I almost forgot,’ Sky said sheepishly, ‘but there… is someone. A healer, I mean. In the village. Remember?’
Warriors turned an incredulous gaze on him. ‘What?!’
Right on time, there was a knock at the door. Sky gave a polite nod to excuse himself, then walked over to receive their guests.
There, of course, was Dusk, along with Ashei and Shad. As the door opened, the queen’s gaze dipped towards the group clustered on the floor, then back up to meet Sky’s eyes. ‘I thought you might need some assistance,’ his descendant explained politely. ‘Was I correct?’
Truly, Sky decided, prophetic dreams were as much a blessing as they were a curse.
Twilight’s house was spacious enough for him, but it was hardly built to entertain eleven guests all at once. As soon as the immediate crisis had reached some level of stability and control, he quietly excused himself, grabbed Shad by the wrist, and went to sit out on the terrace.
The sun was still low in the sky. The air was crisp, cool and slightly damp. Twilight breathed in deep, letting the familiar scents of morning flow into his lungs. It tasted a little weaker than usual, but he’d expected that. A side effect of the however many hours he’d spent stuck in beast form.
He looked back at his boyfriend, only to find Shad’s eyes boring into his face, just as intent as if Twilight had been some newly discovered and all-too-fascinating artefact from Hyrule’s ancient past. Taken aback, he asked, ‘What?’
Shad took it as an invitation to lean in, skimming his hand over Twilight’s cheek as he scrutinised him from close range. After a moment, he observed aloud, ‘Those markings of yours look darker than they did before.’
Twilight’s hands rose automatically to his face, colliding with Shad’s along the way. ‘They do?!’
‘Not a lot,’ Shad amended. ‘Just enough that I noticed.’ He paused, then added cautiously, ‘You didn’t notice, then?’
Twilight let his hands drop, looking off to the side. ‘No. I didn’t.’ He steadied himself and clarified, ‘It isn’t a big deal, though. Just a… side effect of a magic thing.’
‘A side effect of a magic thing, is it?’ Shad asked sceptically.
Twilight winced, bracing himself for more, but all Shad said in the end was, ‘Well, so long as it’s not hurting you… I suppose that’s just fine. Adds to your rugged, rural, brooding hero charm after all, doesn’t it, old boy? But do seek a second opinion from Her Majesty on those magical side effects, won’t you? For my peace of mind, if nothing else?’
Ah.
Right.
Twilight had been very clear about the bounds of their relationship, from the beginning. Casual only, no commitments, and while Twilight wasn’t particularly interested in having multiple partners, there was no expectation of monogamy, for either of them. Above all, he’d told Shad: definitely no questions about the markings, about how he’d gotten the Sky Cannon from the depths of Kakariko Village to the shores of Lake Hylia, or about why he wasn’t able to do things like that anymore. No questions about questing at all, for the most part. General queries about places, objects or monsters were fine, if Shad was curious about those, but if Twilight said something was off the table, then it was off the table. And the markings were most certainly off the table.
It wasn’t as if Shad had been alone in that. Twilight hadn’t told his family the truth, either. Or any of his friends or companions, up until Time had come along. Zelda probably knew enough to guess, but they weren’t really close enough to discuss it. Not since Midna’s departure.
And that was… fine, he supposed. They were just markings. Maybe markings that were a little more prominent than they used to be, but markings nonetheless. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t have to mean anything.
He didn’t know why it struck him, then, that Shad was purposefully not asking any questions, despite his obvious curiosity and concern. Perhaps, in the course of this latest quest, Twilight had gotten a little too used to having meddlers around him at all times. Perhaps he’d simply gotten a little too used to the idea that running away meant that someone would eventually come chasing after, whether he wanted them to or not.
But it didn’t always work like that. Did it?
‘Link?’
‘O-oh.’ Twilight realised he’d gone silent for a little too long. He scrambled to remember what Shad had said last, and hastily replied, ‘Right. Yes. I’ll ask her.’
‘Good,’ said Shad. ‘You take care of yourself, alright, old boy? If your friends back there are any indication… seems even legendary hero types aren’t invincible. And I will need you back at some point, if only to help smooth things over with the Gerudo people.’
‘The Gerudo?’ asked Twilight, slightly surprised. ‘What’s left to smooth over? Things seemed relatively stable, the last time I was there. They liked Zelda, didn’t they?’
‘Err… yes. Relations with the Queen are… much more positive than they were in the past. Or with her predecessor, the former King of Hyrule. Shall we say, however, that a certain handsome young archaeologist may have recently expressed a certain undue interest in a certain ancient temple –’
‘Wait. Is this about the Pyramid of Power?’ Twilight asked with a tinge of disappointment. ‘I thought I told you they were sensitive about that.’
‘Well, yes, but it’s not as though I was seeking to arrange a field trip!’ Shad argued. ‘Not that I would turn that offer down, if it were ever extended, mind you. But surely there is no harm in asking a few questions, out of scholarly interest? A-and they weren’t terribly offended, for the avoidance of doubt. Just… slightly unappreciative. Perhaps due to a lack of subtlety and tact on my own part. Which does make things rather difficult, it seems! Both in terms of general diplomacy, and as a blasted setback in a rather fascinating new line of academic enquiry. Say, did I ever tell you about the fabled Zuna Village in the northern parts of the desert? Marvellous place! Rather inaccessible to the average traveller, but thanks to your fine work in opening up the waypoint system once again…’
Twilight rolled his eyes, but obligingly settled in to listen, leaning up against his boyfriend’s chest and occasionally contributing a question or two. Occasionally angling in for a kiss or two as well.
It felt comforting. It felt… normal.
It felt like Twilight had maybe lost track of “normal”, somewhere along the way.
Time awoke to a distinct headache, a general sense of heaviness, and a familiar, dry voice that informed him, ‘You, dear “fairy boy”, have got some explaining to do.’
Time blinked his eye open, was promptly attacked by sunlight, and rolled over with a muffled groan. ‘Make Twilight explain,’ he mumbled into the mattress.
‘Is Twilight going to explain why his mentor is an idiot who overused his magic and passed out?’ Warriors asked sweetly.
‘Sure,’ Time agreed easily, already halfway back to sleep. A moment later, his wits caught up on him and he lurched upwards. ‘Wait – Legend and Hyrule –’
Warriors caught him as he collapsed once more, and gently lowered Time back down onto his extremely comfortable mattress. ‘The others are fine,’ he reassured. ‘Everything’s already taken care of.’
Time stared up at him, worriedly noting the trembling in Warriors’s arms. ‘What about you?’ he asked.
‘Me? I’m well on the way to recovery,’ Warriors replied easily. ‘Give it another day or so. Which we’ll have to do anyway, considering your own state.’
Whatever the others had to say about Time’s own “disappointed Dad stare”, it surely paled in comparison to Warriors’s version. Time grimaced, and looked away.
Glancing about, he placed his surroundings as the little alcove that usually served as Twilight’s bedroom. The bed itself filled most of the space, though Warriors – or maybe one of his companions – seemed to have managed to get a chair up there somehow, too. It was slotted snugly in place, right next to the railing. He couldn’t see any of the others, but guessed they were gathered somewhere down below.
‘Why am I on the bed?’ it occurred to Time to ask. ‘Shouldn’t one of the others have it? I wasn’t even injured.’
‘Yeah. That’s the point,’ said Warriors. ‘We weren’t about to piggyback Legend up here while he’s that fragile. Similar with Hyrule, though he wasn’t hurt as badly. Not to mention, we’re still not completely sure what he was poisoned with, or what happened with Wild. We’re keeping a close eye on them while they recover.’
Time gave him an accusing stare. ‘What happened to “everything’s already taken care of”?’
‘Well, it’s true: we’ve done all we can, for now,’ Warriors informed him. ‘No one’s in any serious danger right now, thankfully. It’s just that Hyrule’s a little warm, Wild’s a little cold and Legend’s bones and muscles are currently held together with magic. High grade healing magic, mind you, but it’s better not to move someone with those injuries, if we can help it.’
Time felt suddenly nauseous, thinking about how he’d carelessly carried Legend all the way from one end of a dungeon to another. How much extra damage had he himself caused in the process?
Warriors poked Time lightly on the nose to interrupt that thought spiral. ‘Hey. Quit that,’ he scolded. ‘I can see you blaming yourself again, like some moron. You got them all back home, right? Even if it took being a reckless, self-sacrificing fool with your magic to do it.’
Time huffed. ‘I’d do it again. Ideally without injuring anyone, this time.’
‘Could you include yourself in that “anyone”, maybe?’ Warriors suggested wearily.
For a moment, neither of them said anything else. Time stared up at the ceiling while Warriors stared down at his lap. Somewhere downstairs, Time heard the clinking of crockery. Breakfast, maybe? He hoped so. He hadn’t eaten in several hours, at least.
‘Say, old man,’ Warriors said abruptly. ‘There’s something I’ve been wondering.’
‘Hmm?’ Time looked over curiously. ‘What is it?’
‘Do you…’ Warriors faltered. ‘Before this quest started – before you were “Time” and I became “Warriors”, that is – have we, uh… do you happen to remember when we… do you happen to remember… meeting before?’
Oh.
So he… really did know.
Not just as a mistake made while he was half dead and delirious, but instead, while fully conscious, he really did –
‘It’s ok if you don’t,’ Warriors rushed to say. ‘Just… you know how I said that thing the other night about how my quest technically didn’t happen? Well, just… imagine that in a parallel universe, somewhere, you and I once –’
‘I do remember,’ Time cut in. ‘I do remember. I never forgot. I’m not sure if I was supposed to… but I didn’t.’
‘Oh.’ Warriors went quiet for a long moment. ‘Huh. You… you didn’t say anything.’
‘Neither did you,’ pointed out Time.
Warriors’s voice sounded oddly stifled as he replied, ‘I didn’t think you’d remember. No one else did, except for Lana, I suppose, but she’s… different.’
‘I didn’t realise,’ Time said quietly. ‘You didn’t show any signs of recognising me, so I thought… I assumed that either you didn’t remember, or that you didn’t recognise me. Maybe it wasn’t as long for you as it was for me, but it’s still… been a while, right? And I’ve grown. It’s not like I’m the same kid you met, back then.’
Warriors huffed out a broken laugh. ‘Says who?’ he retorted. ‘Sprite, you’ve barely even changed. You’re the same little gremlin, just shoved into a bigger body with more scars and less baby fat. You even do that same hilarious little pout! You still light up whenever you meet a new fairy, you still treat my battle-hardened warhorse like she’s a pretty little princess, you still drink milk even though you’re lactose intolerant –’
‘I’m not lactose intolerant! Your era’s milk is just bad!’ Time interjected petulantly.
‘– You’re still in constant denial about being lactose intolerant –’
‘Am not.’
‘– And you have those damn markings on your face,’ Warriors finished. ‘From that damn mask, that I always told you not to use, because I could tell how much it hurt each time you put it on. Did it leave marks on you, or something? Is that what that is? Don’t tell me you still have that thing?’
‘Err… that’s… well, it’s a long story,’ Time said sheepishly. ‘I’ll tell you later.’
‘Gods, sprite,’ Warriors expelled noisily, ‘you and your cryptic bullshit. Of course I recognised you.’ He took a shaky breath. ‘Hell, even if I hadn’t, you could’ve at least said something. You could’ve told me it was you. Why didn’t you?’
Why hadn’t he? Well, there was a very simple answer to that question, but… ‘I get the sense you’re not going to like it,’ Time admitted slowly.
‘What?’ Warriors frowned at him. ‘What else am I not going to like, after all this nonsense?’
‘The truth,’ said Time. ‘About why I didn’t say anything.’
Warriors sent him a sharp look. ‘Fine. Consider me warned. What is it, then? Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I…’ Time hesitated. ‘It’s just that I… didn’t think that it would matter to you.’
‘You didn’t think it would –?!’ Warriors cut off, staring at him for a long moment. His eyes tightened and he looked away. ‘Wow. Yeah. You’re right. I don’t like that. I hate that.’
‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Time interjected hastily. ‘It mattered to me. If you’d recognised me, I would’ve been happy. It’s not like I didn’t want you to. But since you didn’t say anything, I figured… I figured it might not matter to you, the same way it had mattered to me. Or maybe that you were over it all, and you wanted to put everything behind you and start again. That’s all. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.’
The alcove went silent for a long moment. Time stared up at the ceiling, thinking back to days long passed, when that ceiling might have been the canvas of a tent, with him lying in bed or playing with Proxi on the floor while the Captain scratched endlessly at the pages of his log, making plan after plan, record after record, and sometimes, rare personal diaries that he tore out and burned as soon as they were written, just to make sure they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands. Some nights, he’d just keep writing until Time forced him to stop.
With all that had been on his plate back then, how had he possibly found the energy to waste on babysitting some bratty little kid?
‘Tell me,’ Warriors went on eventually, ‘is there something I did to make you feel that way? Did I mistreat you? Neglect you? Did I hurt you?’
‘What?!’ Time said sharply. ‘No. What are you talking about? Of course not!’
‘Are you sure?’ Warriors asked dully. ‘You can’t have just decided something like that on your own, surely. I did tell you that I loved you, didn’t I? I thought I did. Did I screw up somehow?’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong,’ Time said fiercely. ‘You told me you loved me all the time. Every single day. Whenever I went to bed, and whenever I accidentally woke you up after a nightmare. A few times when I woke you up on purpose, too. And plenty of times during the day.’
‘Then why?’ Warriors asked sadly. ‘Did you think I was lying? Or that I changed my mind? What made you think I’d be better off not knowing? How did I mess things up that bad?’
‘It’s not you. It was never you,’ Time insisted. He sighed. ‘It was me. You remember, right? I was a lousy, miserable little kid, full of anger and bad memories. I couldn’t trust anyone. Not even you, in the beginning. And even after getting to know you… it all still seemed temporary. I didn’t want to get attached. Not to mention, it just… it never made sense for you to give a damn about me. There was absolutely nothing loveable about me, back then. Nothing at all. I couldn’t even bring myself to say I loved you back, could I? Not even once. So why the hell would you care? I never gave you any reason to.’
‘You never gave me any reason to…? What the hell are you even talking about, sprite?’ Warriors asked in turn. ‘How were you anything but loveable? Cute little fairy kid with a heart of gold? Constantly worrying about me, but never honest enough to say it in simple terms? Oh, you mean the pranks, maybe? Nah, those were funny. For the most part.’
‘I dyed your hair green,’ Time reminded him, completely aghast at his own criminal record.
Warriors snorted. ‘Hah. Yeah, the soldiers sure got a laugh or two out of that one, even if it took a while for me to see the funny side. You really were a little hellion, huh? Never got you back for that one, did I?’
‘You practically never got me back for any of them!’ Time declared. ‘Or what, a couple of stern words here and there, a couple of minor pranks, a couple of timeouts with Impa? And that means we’re even? Don’t tell me you were ok with all I did to you! I was awful the whole time, and you just sat back and accepted everything I threw at you!’
‘Well, sure. If you’d been older and less cute about it, I might’ve gotten upset, I guess,’ Warriors mused. ‘See, whenever it got particularly bad, I’d go blow off some steam in the training yard, or talk it out over tea with the other officers. Could hardly bully some pipsqueak kid about it, could I? But hey: like you said, you’re an adult now. Guess that means revenge is fair game from now on. Keep that in mind, huh?’
‘Does that not… bother you?’ Time asked haltingly. ‘I’m older than you now. Taller, too. Even if you did see me as some kind of younger brother back then… at this point…’
Warriors shook his head. ‘Didn’t I tell you the other night?’ he asked. ‘Well, maybe not… it’s a bit blurry. Either way…’ He gave a gentle smile. ‘Doesn’t matter what happens, or how old you get. I’ll always be your big brother. I’ll always be on your side. Whether you think you’re loveable or not.’
‘But I’m… really not,’ Time said weakly. ‘Not now. Not really. And I definitely wasn’t back then.’
Warriors’s smile turned sad. He reached out and smoothed Time’s hair back from his face, just as he might have done more than two decades earlier, and with his gaze still overflowing, inexplicably yet unquestionably, with far more love than Time had ever bothered to earn.
‘Say,’ Warriors replied casually, ‘that reminds me. You know how Wild did that trick with the two bombs, back in his era? The one where he used them to launch himself up a cliff?’
That… seemed like an odd change in subject. ‘What about it?’ asked Time.
‘Just checking that your memory is still in order. You are getting old after all,’ Warriors said innocently. ‘And speaking of which: do you happen to also remember that one battle in Hyrule Field when the bridge was broken and we were trying to find a way to cross?’
A strange sense of foreboding settled over Time. ‘Err… could that… possibly be…’
‘Oh, good! Sounds like you do remember!’ Warriors said brightly. ‘Then surely you remember the part where you turned to me, pulled out your bomb bag, and said, “Hey, Captain! Watch me do a Mega Flip!”?’
Time gave a nervous laugh. ‘Uh… well… I suppose it was a little –’
‘And remember how, on the way back,’ Warriors continued spitefully, ‘I challenged you to a race back to our tent, and you once again pulled out your bomb bag and said, and I quote, “Check out this sweet HESS”. Say, dearest sprite, dearest Time, my dear old man: what exactly does the term “HESS” refer to? Some sort of acronym, maybe? Perhaps one you invented, just for the sake of this particular stunt?’
‘Uh… well, it, umm…’
‘Oh, don’t worry! It was a rhetorical question!’ Warriors cut in cheerfully. ‘HESS, pronounced “hess”, spelt H, E, S, S, stands, of course, for “hyper-extended super slide”! Which is one of several tricks involving explosives, and involving a young and vulnerable child placed in my tender care! All of which I look forward to explaining to the others! In detail!’
A chill ran down Time’s spine. ‘You wouldn’t dare. Surely.’
‘Wouldn’t I?’ Warriors asked maliciously. ‘You’re the responsible adult now, right? I’m sure you can clean up any messes I cause. Actually, maybe I’ll go and cause some messes right now, while you’re still stuck in bed! Sound good? Maybe that will teach us not to overuse our magic?’
‘Do not,’ begged Time, struggling to lift his heavy body up from where it had settled.
Warriors gave him a firm push back down into the mattress, then leaned in to kiss his forehead. ‘Nuh uh,’ he tutted. ‘Naughty heroes get sent to sleepy jail. Love you, sprite. Rest up for now, and we’ll figure whatever else out later.’
With a final jaunty wave, and a dazzling smile, Warriors disappeared down the ladder.
‘Well,’ said Time. ‘Shit.’
Warriors dropped to the floor, paused to contend with the faint spots in his anaemic vision, and finally let his cheery grin fade. He shook his head slowly, disbelievingly. ‘By the gods,’ he uttered in a quiet gust of breath.
It occurred to him, briefly, to model Time’s example and try praying to Malon instead. Maybe she would have some extra answers, and be more willing to share them than the usual gods Warriors prayed to. Alternatively, maybe Time’s example was not a good one to model in general. Maybe what Warriors had assumed to be a functional adult was not actually quite so functional after all.
‘That crazy, messed up fairy kid,’ he muttered towards the wall.
A grinning Wind poked his head into the corner of Warriors’s vision. ‘Say,’ he began, ‘what was that before about explosives, mega flips and hyper-extended super slides? And about explaining them in detail?’
What little colour had returned to Warriors’s cheeks promptly drained from them once more. ‘Uh,’ he said intelligently.
‘Hey. Don’t worry, Captain,’ Wind said cheerfully, ‘we’ve got time.’