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Warriors stepped out of the inn and took a deep breath, relishing the cool air against his face. It felt cleansing, invigorating, sorely needed.
At last everyone had settled down, gathering in small groups on his advice so as not to remain alone with their worry. He doubted any of them would get much sleep tonight, but he hoped at least a few of them would manage a few hours. In any case, they'd retired, leaving him finally free to seek some alone time to gather his own thoughts.
He stroked Epona's nose. She looked content and well taken care of, oblivious to the danger her rider was in right now.
Warriors wished he could say as much.
He sighed, sat down on the steps leading up to the entrance of the inn. The sky had fallen into a deep dark blue, the only lights those at the windows. He took in the view, so peaceful, so quiet, and tried to let it infuse his own tired mind.
And by the goddess, how tired he was. What a dreadful and exhausting day. Even this moment of rest couldn't really hope to dispel the grief wearing on his bones.
It never grew easier.
Already Warriors could see the next steps. He was proud of the Champion for speaking up as he had, for giving everybody hope where they'd all been lacking in it too much and inspiring their brother to fight. He dearly hoped it would be enough, that Twilight could indeed make it...
He'd seen wounds like these. He'd held those people's hands wishing they still had fairies nearby to help. He'd drafted letters, visited families. He'd wished he wouldn't have to do it again, after the war was over.
Realistically, it was unlikely Twilight would last the night.
He closed his eyes. He would miss him. The rancher had a heart of gold and a sly tongue when he wanted to show it, on top of being a skilled warrior. Warriors greatly enjoyed his companionship.
And yet, even though it was never pleasant to see someone you cared about in such a state, it wasn't Twilight's tired smile and delirious rambles that stuck to him like glue.
Wind's sniffles. The strain in Hyrule's smile. The rage in Wild's features as he fought the Shadow. Four starting fights, he who usually was so composed. Legend's voice wobbling with tears. Sky focusing outwards, on keeping the others grounded. And Time, the oldest and wisest of them all, barely keeping it together, his grief so potent and debilitating Twilight himself visibly felt it too, which was such a rookie's mistake.
They were heroes, but they were civilians. Most of them were children. The images, the sounds of them so undone were clinging to his skin, flashing in him from time to time like a punch in the guts.
But he would carry them through this. He knew how to do this. This wasn't his first time.
He wondered what it said about him, that he barely thought about the one dying among them, that he was already making plans to pick up the others' pieces. He felt empty, tired, but there was no sadness.
Had the war torn all humanity from him? Had he grown so jaded to injury and death that it could no longer affect him?
Slight nausea twisted his stomach. Right. He should probably eat, too, like he'd urged everyone else to do, even though it was the last thing he wanted right now.
How he missed Proxi. He had ever since the beginning of this journey, but he felt it particularly strongly now. The little fairy had supported him throughout everything, all the horrors and the heartbreak of the war. Doing it alone... it was different.
And despite the eight – seven – other heroes going through the same as he was, he very much felt alone.
His thoughts couldn't help but drift to Time again. The older hero, although he wasn't all that much older than Warriors, really, maybe ten years at most, had taken the mantle of leadership so naturally that seeing him break down was more than a little unsettling. His words haunted Warriors, how small his voice had sounded as he admitted to his weakness and asked Warriors to take over.
It was good, that Warriors wasn't so affected. He supposed he was thankful. There needed to be at least one person that kept their head about, and they couldn't ask that of the younger ones.
And yet part of him wondered what it felt like, to be so close to someone that losing them made you unable to function. When you fought in a war, there was no time to break down. You just had to go on. It was about survival.
Plus Warriors had never had anybody to break down over.
Vague shame roiled in his stomach, a feeling he was intimately acquainted with. That old, familiar fear that he was doing things wrong, that were he any different, everything could have been prevented.
He craved rest so badly.
He huffed, rolling his eyes at himself and his maudlin thoughts. There was no time for that, yet. For none of them. The days ahead would be long. There was a lot to do before he could even think of letting go. He needed to be reasonable and get the energy he needed to keep his strength of mind and body. Food, sleep.
He rose up, stretched, and slowly climbed up the steps once again.
You're not off the battlefield yet, Wild had told Twilight. Warriors knew this to be true.
The hardest work began in the aftermath.