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“Snow.”
Blinding snow, even in the darkness of this plant far from the sun. The Epona’s lights, Wild remembers, cut through the falling snow but reflected on the fog and made their visibility even worse.
“Everyone else.”
The others, kitted up in cold-weather gear, fur and tarp and plastic to stave off wind and chill. Shaded goggles on Wild’s face, boots crunching through the deep snow, unwieldy gloves and an uncomfortable sweat building up inside it all.
“What else?”
“Things.”
Long, spindly things like the spiny trees stepping from the dense fog. One the size of Warriors, slipping between trees, striking with a limb like a tree branch at Sky’s head. Fog parting in its wake. Sparks as Sky blocks the blow with a sword.
More things. More strikes. More terror. Screams, shouts, static. Too much to keep track of. Wild worrying about keeping his grip on his sword with these gloves, watching the others fight around him—
“Breathe, Wild. It's over. It's okay.”
Heated air in his lungs. Crinkling vinyl of a seat cushion. Comforting beeps and buzzes, the sound of a ship in space.
“What happened?” Wild asks, looking up. He sits in his usual chair on the bridge, a blanket from his bunk around his shoulders. He doesn't remember getting out of the snow, much less out of his parka and boots.
Twilight leans up against the railing across from him, arms folded and face tight. There's a glimmer in his eyes that makes Wild wary. “What more do you remember, if anything?”
On the other side of the railing, Time watches, too, blank eyes impassive. He doesn't say anything, but gestures for Wild to keep going.
Wild settles back into his chair and chews on his cheek. “I remember one of those things getting in my face and trying to fight it. And then Wind fired Epona’s weapons… and I don't know. It goes blank. I don't really like things going blank.”
“I know,” Twilight says, and he means it. He’s the only person on the Epona besides Time that Wild told about the whole… lost-years-in-time-and-memory thing. “I think the flash of the blasters triggered something, because after they went off, you changed.”
That sets off alarm bells in Wild’s head. “Changed? How?”
Twilight looks at Time instead of answering, clearly hesitating.
Time frowns. “Have you ever experienced a Deity’s rage before? Or, rather, do you remember experiencing one?”
Blood drains from Wild’s face, even as he shakes his head. “I don't black out. I can control those.”
“Something about this one must have been different,” Time says. “It was a Deity’s rage, I don't doubt it. You lost control of it.”
“Please tell me nobody got hurt.” Wild crosses his arms in an attempt to hug himself, fingers digging into his biceps. His bones are cold.
Twilight speaks up again. “He's okay. The important part is that you—”
“Who?” Wild bursts, his heart tearing. He hasn't known the Epona’s crew for very long, but he likes them, and he absolutely abhors hurting people on accident. Especially his teammates.
Twilight grimaces and opens his mouth, but Time answers first.
“Sky.” He breaks the news with only a touch of gentleness, understanding Wild’s need for the information. “But you did scare off the monsters. I'm not sure how, but your sword cut right through them, and they fled.”
Wild is absently surprised he hasn't broken through his suit with his fingers yet. He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them when he sees swirling snow beneath his eyelids. “And then I hurt Sky.”
Memories filter in as he thinks, flashes of light and sensation as if from a dream.
He now remembers the resistance his sword met as he cleaved right through those tall, treelike monsters. He remembers one of their claws shooting for his chest, and the brush of cold air on his cheeks as he dodged at the last moment, time slowing just in time for him to run up the arm and stab at the thing’s head. The texture under his boots was harder than snow, more like gravel.
The seconds sped up again as Wild’s ride crashed to the ground, and otherworldly screeches resonated through his head. The things disappeared back into the taiga.
And then…
“I didn't do it on purpose,” Wild says, and there are tears blurring his vision. He bends over, hugging himself, as if he can squeeze this awful feeling right out of his heart. “I didn't.”
“We know. We all do.” Twilight kneels next to Wild and sets a hand on his shoulder. It's comforting.
Wild clenches his fingers into fists around his sleeves. He can still feel soft, ridged flesh under his palms, the edges of bones beneath skin. He swallows hard and remembers Sky gasping under two hands around his throat. He remembers the way Sky’s skin grayed, and the whites around his irises visible even under the shaded goggles. His tears overflow, and in his mind’s eye, he sees them splash on Sky’s masked face.
“—down,” Twilight is saying. His hand is tight around Wild’s shoulder as if to pull him down from the swirl of black holes and stars. “Wild. Listen. Breathe.”
“Breathing,” Wild gasps. “Sorry.”
“Don't. He's okay. You're okay. We're out of there.”
Is it okay, though? Nobody will ever trust Wild again, will they? They know he might snap. He thought he was over this.
“A Deity seeks power and control,” Time says, still a healthy distance away as Twilight comforts Wild. “I imagine that you may have been finding yourself with a bit less of those things since we started this mission. If you can think of any minor way to get back a little, let us know.”
Wild nods, his hair falling around his face and giving him a modicum of privacy. Two more tears drop, but he gets control over his breath again, guided by the sound and feeling of Twilight next to him. He's grateful to be on a team that seems to want to work this out instead of immediately kicking him off. He'll have to write that to Flora.
It takes a minute, but Wild tunes back in to the hum of computer and ship around him. He wipes his eyes, pushes hair behind his ears, and sits up properly. He's still torn up, and he definitely needs to go make amends with Sky, if he can, but he also needs to make sure this won't happen again.
If Time says he needs to control something? Well, Wild’s going to use that to his advantage.
“I could control our meals,” he offers, looking at Time. “I've been cooking most of them anyway. I like doing that. Let me take control of that and the food supply.”
“Done,” Time says with absolutely no hesitation, and Wild’s startled into a small laugh. “You're good at it, and Warriors has enough on his plate. I'll have him teach you where to find the list of dietary requirements and what he’s been doing, just to smooth the transition, and you can develop your own process.”
That was easy. Wild takes a deep breath, warm and familiar with the smell of metal and soap. “Thank you.”
“Thank you. I like eating good food.” Time cracks a smile, and Wild knows that the three of them in this room are all right. He can trust these two.
He looks over at Twilight. “Think Sky would be okay to see me? I want to apologize.”
“I'm sure. He keeps asking if you're okay.” Twilight pats Wild’s shoulder, then stands up. “I'll let him know you're gonna go say hi. He's just in his room.”
Wild stands, too. “And he's really okay? Not hurt?”
“A little hurt, but he's not gonna let you feel bad about it,” Twilight says, datapad clutched in his claws. “Time explained a bit more, and just between us, I think Sky’s seen something like that before.”
“Huh.” Wild frowns, but shrugs. “I'll go say hello. Thank you, guys, for not…”
“I get it,” Twilight insists, and Time nods. “We both do. See you later.”
As Wild heads out of the bridge, pulling his blanket more securely over his shoulders, he hears Twilight mutter a question to Time.
“So… would you ever…”
“My station here as the captain is more than enough power and control,” Time answers just as quietly. “You don't need to worry about a vengeful god working through me.”
The bridge door slides shut behind Wild, and he thinks he can almost hear a voice in his ear in response to what he overheard. It sends a chill down his spine. So he ignores it and turns down one way to get to Sky’s little room.
Enough power and control… for now.