Chapter Text
Shad knew he should have been grateful to the many translators and scholars who had lent their time to Hyrule’s old history — if it weren’t for such acts of attention, the words would have never reached him — but a selfish part of him itched to despise them and to curse their rickety translations. Having read each line through his finger (a habit he had never grown out of) as many times as a mortal man could, he was sure nobody could ever be devoted to Hyrule’s mysteries as he was, but he lacked any qualification for translating Hylian of this era.
Through the fallen scaffolding of the ruins, a magpie sang out into the empty, echoing air. Shad thought briefly of the signs that people were taught to fear; a broken mirror, black birds — in seeking an omen, people were often seeking a bird. The magpie stretched its wings out and jumped to the sky, weaving through the ruins’ crumbled ceiling with astounding swiftness and grace.
Through the hole the magpie had escaped from, something fell from the sky in an abnormally straight line with seemingly complete disregard for natural law until it plummeted into the ground.
Shad, for a long moment, did not move. He stared through the hole wide-eyed, adjusting his glasses, wondering if lack of sleep had finally gotten to him and he began dreaming with his eyes open. He climbed over the crumbled brick to exit the ruins and make his way towards the area where whatever had fallen from the clouds would have hit.
An ill omen for one may have been fortuitous for another.
When Shad had found it, he approached what became obvious as the bone of an old structure, thrusting through the soil where it had landed. Any possible mark of an artisan had long been eaten away by moss and weathering, but the scholar in Shad still wanted to make note of them, etch the details of the brick in his journal, scrape away the brown and green that obscured its stone — if the thing didn’t likely have a mass quadruple his weight, he would have attempted to drag it back home for further research.
Instead, he settled for making detailed notes of its location to further study when the sun offered its light.
He craned his neck up, looking towards the heavens where it had fallen. When he saw it fall, it had moved with such improbable elegance that it was impossible it was any sort of small meteor or other debris from space that had found its way into Hyrule’s sky. Even then, the ridges and etchings that were left made it obvious it belonged to something larger, something crafted by hand.
Could it be…?
Of course, he had no way of confirming if his and his father’s studies and this piece of stray architecture were connected — it’d be so much easier if he were like that magpie and could have just soared up there to see for himself. However, he found it difficult to be settled with what sat in front of him now; a possible piece of the land in the sky had found its way to him, how could he muster up the satisfaction to simply make note of it and not research further?
What way did he have researching further, though?
There had been a name that entered his mind then, someone who had led him closer to the sky than before, only to have it abruptly closed off — as such was the usual mystery that surrounded him. Shad had been satisfied at that point, knowing that if at least someone would be able to reap the fruit of his and his father’s endless work, then that would have been alright. Now, there was no way to sate his curiosity — it was like he could hear his father beckoning him to press on from beyond the mortal veil.
Link might have been able to help him, but there was a gnawing guilt in his gut, given their last interaction.
It had been a party in the new hero’s honor — a time of celebration that made the darkness that Hyrule suffered through almost worth it. Like the relief of a snapped rubber band, for the first time in what felt like so long, the people of Hyrule were able to relax without the feeling that something lingered in the shadows, waiting to devour everything they knew in a moment. Even with such little time passed, there was a noticeable change in the kingdom, and it was reflected in every inhabitant who came out of the conflict with a new outlook.
And it was all because of him.
"Ready for another, honey?"
Telma's joyful offer had pulled Shad's attention up from the far corner of the bar where he'd been pensively fixated while Ashei and Auru carried on conversation beside him, the three of them belly-up to the bar to save limited seating for those who were more in need of it. He had never seen this place so alive with camaraderie wearing so many different faces. Everybody had come to celebrate the hero, to have the opportunity to give a more intimate show of their appreciation and share their stories of him and his impact on their life.
"No more for me, thanks." Shad had thrown back the rest of his drink (his single one of that night that saw him through the many toasts honoring Link), savoring the complicated burn of brandy on his tongue.
While Ashei requested her fifth (or maybe sixth? he had honestly lost count), Shad's attention returned to the same corner that he'd been so captivated with before. Once the toasts ended, it didn't escape him that their man of the hour had slunk back to their familiar table. It was only expected after all of the bustle that he would find somewhere to take a breath, a feeling Shad was all too familiar with himself. No, what kept his attention was the heavy air of defeat that seemed thick around the man who should have been reveling in victory. His shoulders seemed tired of holding themselves straight and Shad felt a nagging tightness in his chest to see Link's blue eyes dim, their characteristic sparkle absent.
No matter how many times he had tried to tell himself that he should not be bothering a man who had removed himself from the crowd, Shad couldn't shake the desire to approach him. Just when he thought he'd gathered the nerve, he'd hear his better sense reminding him that Link could choose the company of anybody here, and he was certain that he would not be his first choice. So he waited, and watched.
Did... nobody else notice? He could not have imagined that they simply did not care . It was easy to get so caught up in revelry and alcohol to become oblivious to anything around you.
"Actually, I will take that drink. Two of them, please," Shad had spoken up.
Telma had been much too busy trying to keep the liquor flowing and her guests comfortable to really bat an eye at Shad's request. Ashei had been the only one to give him a curious squint over Auru's shoulder while the older man relived his adventure during the assault on Hyrule Castle. Shad had whisked both glasses away from the bar before she had the chance to ask about the curious behavior.
It had taken a bit of clever maneuvering and many sheepishly dealt apologies as he snaked his body to the quiet corner where Link had planted himself. He had approached as humbly as he could, trying not to be disruptive to the small pocket of peace away from the festivities and fray.
"You seemed like you could use another, old boy." He placed the fresh pour gently on the table in front of Link.
"I'm not sure if you heard all of the toasts in your honor, but this is your party, you know," he had said, reading the man in front of him for any indication that he should be turning tail. "I'd have thought you'd be in the center of it all. You have been the topic of conversation for everybody here, after all."
“Thanks,” Link had replied after a moment, though his voice cracked as if his throat were tired of speaking.
He took a sip at the new drink, making a face like it tasted like liquid ash on his tongue.
“...’m grateful,” he had mumbled, “I just…”
His grip on the glass had tightened, thumb idly wiping away drops of condensation. Shad waited for him to continue, it seemed like he had a heavy, burdening weight on his mind, but instead he sipped at the drink again, a much bigger gulp, before speaking again.
“It all feels a bit… much?” His eyes had gone from his cup to Shad. “You can sit. If you want.”
Even in the bar's comfortably dim lighting, Shad had been struck by the quiet distress in Link's eyes when he finally looked up from his glass to acknowledge him. Gone had been the clever fire of adventure and ingenuity that they held in his memory, as if the flame had been doused and never relit. The scholar could see it written in those eyes, his somber expression, and the wilt of his head on his neck that there was something... quite wrong.
While he had no way of knowing what that something was or the extent of its severity, Shad had decided that those details didn't particularly matter because they were not presently his business. It was allowed to be something as simple as exhaustion from a lively day with company and as extreme as trauma that was left behind in Zant's wake.
He would not ask, nor would he make Link tell.
Instead, he accepted the invitation and joined Hyrule's Hero at the table once he had determined for himself that he wasn't going to be a burdening presence.
"Finish this drink with me," Shad had said, smiling warmly. The instruction did not carry the weight of a demand. His suggestion was soft and delivered just above the buzz in the room, just for Link to hear. "And then you can slip away for some well-deserved rest. I'll make your excuses for you. "
That had pretty much been the end of their night together. Shad bit his lip in thought as he gazed closely at the chunk of ruin in front of him. It felt inappropriate to bother him with such a task as aiding his research when their last interaction had been so somber.
It would, however, give him the excuse to ask a question that lingered on his tongue that night, held in from fear of overstepping — but one he was nonetheless sorry for not asking.
Are you okay, Link, was what he had wanted to ask.
As much as he would have liked to sit with this piece of ruin until sunrise, in hopes he would magically uncover its secrets, it was obvious that no further progress would be presently made with it. He made note of it in his journal, defeated, and returned home for the night.