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Hyrule found himself scrawling the familiar shapes of his youth in the dirt.
The symbols read something, and he remembered the voice of the traveler who first picked him up explaining it to him.
Her name was Malachite but she patted the crown of his head and said he could call her Mally because she liked him. He never did end up referring to her as anything, his voice perpetually stuck in his throat at that age.
She taught him a lot, like the symbols that were written into the earth. They spelt out certain poisonous plants in the area that he had been found in. WIth no voice of his own, Hyrule couldn’t tell Mally that he couldn’t read the writing on the small piece of parchment she wrote the list down on.
He just pocketed it and kept following her like a tiny shadow.
By the time the two separated a few months later, Hyrule had committed the series of lines and curves to memory. They meant nothing to him, he couldn’t even read which plant was which, but he cherished that crumpled note more than anything.
He knew intuitively what they might’ve said. Mally would constantly remind him of these things when he would bend down to observe the flora, but the note was as good as trash.
And it was eventually. Somewhere between his first and second adventure, the note must’ve slipped from his pack or got trampled by a horde of monsters or disintegrated in the many times he cast his fire spell. Anyway, the note from Mally was gone forever.
Physically at least.
Even after all these years, he’d write out the list perfectly even if he couldn’t read it.
“What are you writing?”
Hyrule hummed as Wild came and crouched next to him. “I’m not, I’m drawing.”
The champion’s face looked puzzled, eyebrows pinched together in confusion. If the traveler were younger by even a few months that expression would’ve sent a sinking feeling in his stomach. Now he just accepted that sometimes things were different for people and that was okay. “Drawing with words?”
“Can you read what it says?” He asked genuinely. If Wild’s face could strunch up further, it probably would have.
“It’s not my Hylian language so no…” His voice trailed off. It was an awkward sort of silence after that. Hyrule kept tracing the symbols deeper and deeper into the earth. He had zero intentions of breaking the quiet, but Wild did it for him.
“Well, do you know what it says?”
“Yes.” It wasn’t really a lie. He knew what it said, probably.
The two sat in silence once more. The champion sighed and found his way back to his feet.
Hyrule didn’t look up at the hero now towering above him, too entranced by the curves that he remembered of Mally’s handwriting.
“If you’re not gonna tell me,” the champion started as he inched his way back towards camp, “I’m gonna ask the Veteran. He could read it.”
If you were to ask the traveler, he would say that he thinks the other is being childish. Then again, he was playing in the dirt like a toddler so who was he to comment on it.
All WIld had to do was ask what it said, he would’ve told him what he thought. Instead the question was if he knew what it said so he answered the question. He did everything that was asked of him.
Sometimes Hyrule was baffled at how the others expected him to act.
It wasn’t long before the champion came back to the clearing with an annoyed looking Legend in tow. His annoyance grew when he found that there was nothing for him to read like Wild had asked.
The traveler had made sure to kick up the ground, erasing Mally’s list before the other came back.
He honestly didn’t know why he did that.
Goddesses, why couldn’t he find his dagger?
It was hard enough to cut his hair alone with a dagger, much more so with his entire sword.
That’s where Sky found him, arms tangled around each other trying hard to not slice a finger with his split ends.
He waited until the traveler put his sword down before making a move to make himself known, the knight really didn’t want to risk startling the other with a blade so close to his head. “Whatcha doing Roolie?”
“Just a trim!” Hyrule said with a smile. “It’s just taking longer than normal because I think I lost my dagger in the last portal.”
“I didn’t know you cut your own hair.”
Messy curls bounced on his head when he nodded. “Yeah, I hate the way it tickles my neck and Ralf says with so much hair I look like a duster.” Hyrule’s hand ran through his hair, carefully picking it up off his neck to show how much it had grown.
Sky nodded, taking a seat next to the younger hero. “I like your curls.” He said with a smile. “And who’s Ralf? Is he a friend?”
He had to sit with the question for a moment. Was Ralf a friend? He taught him how to take a proper bath and cut his hair and wash his tunic so that the blood stains wouldn’t ruin the fabric. He always gave Hyrule a portion of food when they got it and made sure that if he had any injuries, they were taken care of.
Ralf was actually a lot like the other heroes in the chain, a lot like Sky.
And Sky was his friend. So, “Yeah I think so. He was a traveler I knew when I was still a kid. We were together for a little bit. He liked to laugh at me a lot.”
“Hyrule!”
“What!?” Had he said something wrong?
The older hero’s gaze was filled with worry. “Friends don’t laugh at each other.”
“But the vet and the captain laugh at each other a lot.”
“No buddy, they’re laughing with each other. They both know about the teasing, it’s a mutual thing.” Sky’s hand found its way onto his shoulder. “What would Ralf laugh about?”
“He would laugh because I was too short, which was true!” Hyrule’s face broke out into a smile. “And the duster thing, he laughed about that. Same when I would sometimes trip over a root or when I would accidentally cut my finger making arrows or when a monster would find my hiding spots.”
“Those don’t sound very funny.”
The traveler felt frustration bubbling up in his stomach. “But it was! Because I would laugh and then he would laugh more. It was funny!”
Sky sighed, he almost looked like he was pitying the younger hero. “Would you laugh if Wind cut his finger?”
“Well, no but–”
“Or if Four was targeted by monsters?”
“But–”
“Or if Warriors tripped?”
“Probably not b–”
“Then it’s not funny.” The knight’s hand on his shoulder tightened.
He felt his face flush in embarrassment. He wasn’t stupid, he knew when people didn’t like him. Ralf wasn’t one of those people. Who would let him stick around for a couple months if they hated him? “He cared about me though.”
“Did he ever say so?”
Hyrule felt his bottom lip quiver. Tears welled in his eyes and his gaze snapped away.
His sword sat plainly and he remembered why he was sat out here alone in the first place.
It was easy to pick the weapon back up and resume hacking away at his curls. It wasn’t so easy to accept Sky’s help when the older hero had insisted on helping.
Ralf helped him cut his hair.
First watch was always strange for Hyrule.
The other heroes were all laid out in their bedrolls, sure, but it wasn’t until the end of first watch that all of them were asleep proper.
Hearing eight heroes tossing and turning to get comfortable while also trying to listen for danger was distracting.
Time sitting next to him was also extremely distracting.
Rarely were watches assigned for two people meaning the old man just wanted to talk.
Talks with the Hero of Time were exhausting.
“Is there a reason you didn’t eat, Traveler?”
No. there wasn’t, he just didn’t have an appetite. That was normal though. When the chain first joined together, he was the one who ate the least. They were all worried about it but once they made their way to his Hyrule, they understood and dropped the concern. At least he thought they did.
If he looked back on it hard enough maybe he’d notice how Twilight would share a snack with him every few hours. He’d notice how Wild started slowly adding more to his food portion every night. He’d notice how Legend had secretly bought him new pants when the others got too small at the waistband.
He’d notice how he would eat with all the other heroes during meal times.
Maybe it wasn’t normal anymore and Time had reason to worry. However, Hyrule stayed silent. Only his guilty ears dipping down slightly showed a sign that he heard the old man.
The older hero pressed his shoulder against the traveler’s own but his gaze stayed out passed the flickering campfire into the shadowy woods ahead. “We’ve been worried for you. You’ve been acting strange since Sky helped you with your hair.”
“I didn’t think so.” Honest. He thought he was doing a good job at acting normal, as if he wasn’t thinking about all the travelers he met as a kid and if they liked him or not. “I’ve just been thinking a bit.”
Time nodded. “About anything in particular?”
“Yes.”
The silence of expectation was back again. He was expecting for Hyrule to elaborate, but the traveler couldn’t.
His thoughts always tended to skew more towards a jumbled, incoherent mess than something he could eloquently explain. Half the time he couldn’t even figure out what exactly he was feeling and thinking because it was so overwhelming.
Hyrule didn’t elaborate, Time just started talking again. “Y’know sometimes I get sad when I’m away from home for so long. Do you ever feel like that?”
The words were distinctly simple, he knew that was what the old man was doing. Simple words meant Hyrule could dissect them easier, would actually understand them. He didn’t know if he appreciated the gesture or if he loathed it.
“I don’t have a home.”
“A home isn’t always a house,” he said gently, “sometimes it’s a person.” Time had a found look on his face and the way the fire crackled in the reflection in his eye made it look like there was a universe inside of it.
He forced himself to look away from the open and vulnerable expression. It was good that the old man could be vulnerable but he didn’t think he deserved that level of closeness with their stoic leader. That was reserved for Twilight or Wind or anyone other than himself. “I don’t have a person.”
“Surely there’s someone. Your Zeldas? Or maybe someone from before your quest?”
“They’re gone though.”
Time’s hand patted his knee. It was strong and stable and certainly wasn’t enough to hurt him. It felt nice. “You’re allowed to miss your home, Hyrule.”
For as long as he could remember, he was alone.
Save for the few travelers that let him tag along until they parted ways. Going from kingdom to kingdom with a stranger or a group of strangers was actually how Hyrule defined moments in his life.
Like his time with Mally and later with Ralf.
He was always happiest with the other travelers, even when there were some who weren’t as kind as Mally and Ralf.
They taught him how to be a traveler, how to survive in a world with Ganon.
They had meant everything to him.
And maybe he did miss them.
He felt Time pull him into a hug. The older hero was warm and real and taught him things about being a hero. He buried his face into the crook of the old man’s neck as warm tears began sliding down his cheeks.
Time’s hand rubbed soft circles into his back and that only made him cry more.
Hyrule realized something in the embrace.
He did have a home. When had he found another home?
When had he decided that this group of heroes would be his family? That he would lay his life down for the safety of eight other heroes?
A strangled sounding sob came out of his throat. Time never stopped trying to soothe him.
He missed what he used to have but he had all he’d ever wanted right in front of him. He had no right dwelling on the travelers from his past when the heroes of his present loved him just as much as he had for them.
And when the time came for the chain to go back to their respective worlds, Hyrule would miss them too.
Sobs turned to sniffles and he found his eyes growing heavy.
It wasn’t long before he found himself fast asleep, tucked away in the Hero of Time’s arms.
Exhaustion finally caught up to him, but he did notice his chest feeling lighter than it had before his talk with the old man.
Hyrule slept soundly that night, feeling more at home than he had in years.