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It would be madness to send someone like Warriors alone into a criminal’s den like the White Lightning.
Which is why they didn't send him alone.
Warriors looks up at the crystal glasses stacked behind the bartender and scans the room through the reflections. In the corner of his eye, he sees the short bartender’s antennae perk up and twitch, as if nervous that Warriors’s attention is on him, but he relaxes again when it seems to be clear that Warriors is staring into space.
Through the warped reflections of the thick glasses made to hold less than they appear to, Warriors keeps his eyes peeled for a head of unmistakable pink hair. It's kind of difficult here, in a dark bar lit in several different colors, but Warriors keeps his shoulders relaxed. After a minute, he doesn't see Legend anywhere, and he goes back to scrolling through a dummy social media account on a burner datapad.
Legend went off to grab a sauce for his cooling fried carrots too many minutes ago. At this point, Warriors doesn't really think that Legend ditched him, but it's still a possibility. It isn't one Warriors particularly likes thinking about.
The White Lightning, out here on the dark side of Faron, is known for its associations with the Black-Blooded. Several members are regulars here, and it seemed like a good place to get a few leads. Warriors knows he isn't the best choice for subterfuge missions, and he stands out with his very Hylian features on a planet mostly occupied by Faronian humans and monkeylike vanara, but he works well with Legend, who is good at subterfuge missions.
This bar is a dangerous place to be. While Warriors doesn't think it's likely for Legend to just up and leave, there are… other possibilities, too. Hopefully he just got caught up in the bathroom or something.
Partially out of boredom and partially out of a desire to perhaps rage-bait Legend back to the bar, Warriors reaches over and snags one of the thin fried carrot sticks out of the paper basket in front of Legend’s abandoned seat. He crunches into it, wrinkles his nose, and puts the bitten one back. The carrot on the inside is an unpleasant almost-soft texture, while the breading is sweet and crispy. He can see how someone might like them, but he very much does not. Sauce might help.
Where is Legend?
The bartender, ever-attentive, brings Warriors another drink. Warriors passes him an old coin, one that's technically worthless but, out here on the edge of the Hyrule system, means a lot more. It's the currency of a man wanting to hide and unafraid of criminal activity. Or, perhaps, it's the currency of a man who desires to be seen that way.
The bartender probably doesn't think that hard about it. He takes the coin and the used glass, and leaves Warriors alone again. Warriors traces the rim of his new glass with his finger, allowing a drop of solution to fall from the vial hidden in his sleeve into the alcohol. It shifts the taste to something almost unbearably sour, but neutralizes any poison in it. It's just a precaution.
A notification pops up on Warriors's false datapad.
[hibiscus 23:12] I messed up
That's from Legend’s burner, stupid nickname and all. A trickle of horror runs down Warriors’s neck, past his scarf. He can't visibly panic, though. Not here. Not now. But this is a call for help.
[scarf 23:12] Where?
[hibiscus 23:12] south side. hiding.
Warriors sighs heavily for show and turns off his screen, shoving it into a pocket near his stomach so he'll feel it if it goes off. He drains the rest of his drink—tearing up at the sourness—and the clink of the glass on the countertop has the bartender scurrying over again.
“Another?” the little insect man asks.
“No, I'm gonna call it there,” Warriors says with a self-deprecating smile. He slides over another few coins that cover Legend’s bill and his own.
The bartender takes the money and chitters sympathetically. “Some people don't know a good guy when they see one.”
“Guess not,” Warriors answers. “Thanks for the drinks, though.” He lets the bartender think whatever he wants, and hops off the stool. His boots stick to the grimy wooden floorboards with every step. Under the chatter and the tinny radio, he can hear the flow of a river beneath the bar and the sounds of a jungle beyond the walls.
South side. Warriors doesn't look around much as he leaves. Leads on the Black-Blooded are useful, but at this point in time, his teammates are far more valuable.
The White Lightning is built on stilts in the middle of a river, patched and fixed and bolted together in a way that makes the whole thing creak every few seconds. Warriors has no idea how anyone could feel safe in there. He ducks out the door, then glances around. Besides the guy sitting by the front door, the main deck is empty on this side. A dozen little riverboats with darkened displays and engines bump into each other nearby, lashed to the makeshift dock on either side of the walkway back to shore.
Warriors takes a breath of humid night air and wanders off in a direction. He pulls a pen from his pocket and twists it between his fingers, hoping that the guard might think that he’s going for a smoke.
Near the back of the bar, the south side, Warriors can hear low voices, barely louder than the ripple of the water.
“—must’ve run off—”
“—shining, no-good little—”
“—friend back inside—”
“—dirty little Hylians—”
Warriors’s senses buzz. It sounds like these people might have been chasing Legend for some reason (when had he left the bar and why didn't he tell Warriors about it? They're a team) but are now convinced that he got away. Legend still might need Warriors’s help, but more urgently, these people seem to have noticed him and Legend together, and judging by the footsteps, they're coming this way.
Warriors has very few options. He can't climb to the roof, not that fast and not that silently. He shouldn't run back to the front of the bar, because that would draw undue attention.
One thing left.
With a wince and a silent prayer, Warriors ducks beneath the deck railing and slides down into the moving water, keeping hold of the deck with his fingers. It isn't as cold as he'd feared, but it is moving quickly, and if his scarf hadn't been pinned on, he thinks he might have lost it just now.
Panic ringing in his ears, Warriors moves his hands to one of the posts anchoring the deck into the water. He lets the river carry him beneath the high deck until his grip on the post catches him. He has just enough room to keep his head above water.
Something in the river brushes his leg, and he flinches, but there are people coming, so he keeps as quiet as he can. He can't help breathing loudly, but the water mostly drowns him out.
Perhaps three or four pairs of footsteps rattle loudly on the deck above him, shaking droplets free of the growing slime. The creak of the wood prevents Warriors from hearing anything they're saying. Someone pauses above him, but after a heart-stopping moment, they leave.
Warriors waits as long as he can. Swimming is hard work, even if he's just holding onto something, and he can't wear himself out too much. He still has to find Legend. He claws his way back to the outer edge of the deck.
A hand reaches down and grabs one of his.
Warriors almost shouts, but freezes instead, looking up.
Familiar eyes look out of a very unfamiliar face. That is Legend’s color, all right, caught somewhere between red and violet depending on the light, but those cheekbones are too high, the nose too crooked, the hair—
“You're blue!” Warriors whispers loudly. What? Legend’s Hylian! Well, mostly. Probably. Apparently he has some hidden talents.
“Do you want help or not?” Legend asks at roughly the same volume. He bares his teeth in something like pain before reaching his other hand down.
Without another word, Warriors accepts the aid and heaves himself back up onto the deck, streaming water. He rolls over and coughs water into his sleeve. “Ugh, I'm soaked. Where did you go?”
He looks over to where Legend sits, now significantly less blue. Huh. His hair has faded from that initial bright cerulean into something almost naturally gray. But Warriors's attention quickly diverts from Legend’s appearance to something more worrying.
“I was handling it,” Legend hisses, his hands now free and covering the gash through his suit on his thigh. It's very clearly bleeding. “But—they weren't who I thought they'd be.”
“Tell me about it later, but we should get out of here fast. Can you walk?” Three seconds after asking, Warriors regrets it. He should've known.
Legend’s clearly in pain, but he gets up to stand, gritting his teeth. His hair is almost back to its usual pink, though his skin is still an odd, dusty kind of purple, and his face isn't quite back to normal. “Yeah. I can walk.”
“No, you can't,” Warriors says, getting up. He's dripping, and the cold ends of his hair brush uncomfortably against his pointed ears. Even his scarf is sopping wet, offering no protection from the slight breezes. He stands next to Legend, hands hovering because he doesn't know what to do. “There's no way we're getting back to our boat unseen with you looking like this.”
“Funny choice of words,” Legend says, voice strained. He clutches his thigh but takes a step forward, but the pressure almost collapses his leg.
“That's not what I—All right. I'm going to go get the boat. You stay here. I'll swing around and pick you up.”
“You don't know the first thing about boats, soldier boy.”
“I can drive this one just fine.”
“Can you, though?”
Warriors hesitates and looks Legend in the eye, one hand reaching out to catch him if necessary. “I will do what I have to.”
Legend lifts a lip in a sneer—not directed at Warriors, just sneering at life in general. “What if you didn't have to?”
“I don't see another way. Look, those guys were going to look for me, and when they find me missing, they'll come right back out, any second now. We don't have time to argue about this. Stay here.” Warriors pulls away and starts down the deck toward the dock.
“Wait,” Legend says, sounding frustrated. “I'm on it. Give me thirty seconds.”
“What?” Warriors pauses. Legend sounds… resigned. Frustrated. He turns, and is met with a bit of a horror show.
Legend kneels on the ground, his hair going even pinker than usual. Even as Warriors watches, Legend’s silhouette contracts like a dehydrating flower, getting smaller, and then smaller, and then smaller again, features mashing together. His clothes pool up around him. He warps, and it takes the full thirty seconds for him to disappear.
Warriors had not been expecting that. He swallows hard, eyes wide, then inches forward as things seem to settle. He crouches and pulls a layer of the top of the clothes pile. “Lege?”
The face of a Hylian rabbit stares up at him, eyes wide and expressive. It's a scowling face. “You're right, we gotta hurry. I can't walk and you can't drive a boat, come on, pick me up!”
“You're a rabbit.”
“Shut up about it! Let's just go already.”
Warriors can't help smiling, just a little, though he keeps his secret delight off his face. Legend is a very cute rabbit, though part of Warriors is spiraling and wondering how this is even possible. As quick as he can, he grabs up Legend’s clothes and gear and shoves them under his arm, then picks up Legend as carefully as he can. Legend doesn't make any noise, but his leg is still bleeding, bright red and shining even in the darkness. When Warriors stands up, Legend hides his face, either out of a desire to keep quiet or a desire to be held, Warriors isn't sure.
He picks his way across the deck, every burst of laughter and every creak of the boards making his heart race. But he keeps his feet steady and his wet footprints even. He grabs a stray piece of gravel from off the deck and tosses it across the way to try and distract the guard. He gets lucky, and the gravel smashes something glass, which makes a barrel tip over, and the guard has to go running for it before it rolls off into the river.
Warriors hurries down the deck, squelching and wincing every other step. Someone shouts from inside the bar, and the door bursts open, but he doesn't look up, all too aware of the fact that these people could very well be after them.
The first blaster bolts miss him because he jumps down into their rented boat, wobbling as it rocks on the water. It's small, just big enough for the two of them with a single set of controls and a minimal dashboard, but the engine is a nice, quiet one that works on pumps rather than propellers, supposed to be very fast. They'd paid extra to the renting place for it, and Warriors is now glad they'd splurged.
Legend uses one of the worst curses that Warriors has ever heard, and he was in the Hylian military. “Put me down! Get a shield up. I'll get us out of here.”
Warriors doesn't have much choice. “You're still a rabbit,” he says, as if Legend didn't know. He drops Legend’s clothes and sets Legend down, pulling out one of the temporary force shields he has on his belt. They don't take very many hits before flickering out, but hopefully this one won't need to.
“Not for—” Legend’s growing again. It's like watching a ship crash, awful and mesmerizing all at once. “Not for long.” His voice strains, just shy of a scream.
“Does it hurt?” Warriors asks, punching their unlock code into the chain keeping them lashed to the bar.
Legend’s back curves upward, fur sucked into his skin. His spine is like a line of mountains, craggy and protruding and expanding. He grunts, curled in over his leg, this time without any fabric to obscure the injury. It looks like it's a ragged stab wound of some kind, maybe from a serrated or oddly shaped knife. “Pushing myself to go this fast—and injured—yes, you idiot, it hurts!”
Another blaster bolt and the pounding of feet bring Warriors’s attention back to the situation at hand. He straps the shield device onto his arm: a thin bit of metal that extends into a rod the length of his forearm. When he slaps the activation, the rod buzzes for a moment, then lights up and extends a bright blue, glowing shield as tall as he is. He sets one boot on the back of the boat and holds up the shield just in time to catch a flurry of shots. The force of it pushes the boat away from the others around them.
Warriors grunts. He sets his feet so he won't fall. The shield catches a few more bolts and flickers once.
“Brace yourself,” Legend says, and the boat’s engine glows along the seams. The pump starts up.
Though one of the four shapes chasing them hops into a boat, and the others keep shooting, this pump engine proves its worth and speeds them away, past plant cover and into the dark fog. It helps that they're going with the current. They quickly lose the louder boat behind them. Legend turns on a low light and slows as soon as they're in the clear.
The light ripples across the water, and the sound of insects buzzing replaces the distant shouts. Warriors turns off the shield and takes a breath.
“Now that we're okay… let me look at your leg.” Warriors turns around to see Legend leaning up against the boat’s controls, half-dressed like he'd pulled on his suit pants and then decided doing up the top half was not worth the effort.
He also… looks different. More tanned than usual, but ashen under it. Eyes redder. Hair lighter, almost silvery. Thinner. Breathing hard.
He glares out at Warriors, but Warriors knows the difference between a real glare and an embarrassed one.
“I sealed the gash with a bandage,” Legend says.
“Did you… clean it?”
“No, but we aren't that far away from the Epona and actual supplies.” Legend adjusts the boat controls and looks away. “And some shining privacy.”
Warriors sits down, carefully so as to not rock the boat, and leans over to flip a switch that starts up a very slight, annoying, buzzing noise. It'll keep bugs away. He unwinds his wet scarf and drops it at their feet with Legend’s belt and extra layers.
He isn't an idiot. He knows about the sort of people who can change their appearance, and how the Hylian military and government liked to use them… the way their talents are kept very quiet. Imagine, a whole ancestry, just virtually unknown to people outside New Hyrule. Warriors knows that he and Twilight, and maybe even Time, definitely would have been told that Legend is Hylian for the purpose of keeping those secrets.
“Do you have a different agenda than the rest of us?” Warriors asks into the silence, not quite looking up at Legend as he stows the shield back into his belt.
Legend moves, but only to pull on his sleeves. The silver in his hair, combined with the low angle of the light, makes him look old. “Ganon is the priority.”
“Is that a yes?”
“It's a no. I'm not a spy. Or anything else.” Legend glares up at Warriors again, then softens, just a little. “Thanks for coming for me.”
Warriors nods, and out of curiosity, pulls out his burner datapad. Like everything else on him, it's waterlogged, but unlike everything else on him, it was never waterproofed. It's dead. “Teammates are our most valuable asset right now.”
“I was kind of an idiot. I’d understand if you wanted to leave me.”
“You got yourself into trouble, yeah, but you also kind of got yourself out. It was a good solution. You're okay?” Warriors tucks the datapad away, figuring that maybe the information on it is still okay.
“...yeah. I’m fine. Just stabbed and a bit sore.”
“I…” Warriors hesitates. He doesn't want to push things, but he also can't leave this unaddressed. For both their sakes. “I thought the doppelganger Sheikah just changed their faces. I didn't know that any could change their entire form so… dramatically.”
“Most of us can't.”
Warriors waits, but Legend doesn't volunteer more information. The us is as good of a confirmation, though, and likely all he's getting from Legend right now. He switches the subject. “So did you learn anything?”
“A bit, I'll give a full debrief later. I saw an opportunity and I took it.” Legend pokes a few buttons on the dashboard and steers around a tree root, apparently glad to talk about something else. “I heard those guys talking about the Black-Blooded, so I went off and came back looking a little rougher, more like someone who might fit in. They weren't actually members, but they wanted to be members, so when they realized that I was fishing for information, they decided that they'd use me as an entrance fee. And probably you, too.” Legend waves a hand. “My only mistake was claiming to be from Lorule. I guess Lorulians don't come to this part of Faron or something, but it's not like I had time to do my research.”
Warriors sits back, ignoring the way his wet clothes cling to his skin. “So what I'm hearing is that if you did have some time to do research, you'd manage to get in good with some people who might know something.”
“Maybe,” Legend says, “but I don't think I would get in very far. The Black-Blooded have ways of weeding out Sheikah. Haven't you heard of them, soldier boy?”
“Of course I have. We aren't risking anything like that happening to you. But all we need are some leads.”
“I… could get us some leads. Probably.”
Warriors smiles. “I'll have to clear it with Time, but this sounds like a good way to approach a future mission.”
“Yeah, it would be.” Legend closes the front of his suit and grabs his belt from the growing puddle of river water on the ground. “You're taking this well.”
“I've known a couple Sheikah in my time. Does Time know?”
Legend nods, buckling his belt back on.
“Anyone else?”
“You. And Hyrule might suspect something, but I don't know if he knows. I kind of keep this secret. I've heard that it's hard to trust someone when you don't know their face,” Legend says, a little mocking.
Warriors very clearly looks over Legend. “If you want to keep it a secret, there are a couple things you need to fix before getting back to the ship.”
“We have a few minutes.” Still, Legend pulls out a tiny mirror and angles it to get a look at his face. “Ew. I hate this color in my hair.” He runs his fingers through his bangs as a more usual pink bleeds into his hair from the roots. “It's better than that blue, though.”
Warriors snorts. “Yeah. I agree with you there.” He wants to ask if this is Legend’s real face, but decides against it.
Legend’s skin pales, and his eyes turn back to purple. He hesitates, then glances at Warriors for just a moment before looking away, putting the mirror away again. “Hey. Thanks for not… I don't know. Freaking out. Swearing to never trust me. You might be thinking that, but you're hiding it pretty well, if you are.”
“I'm not thinking that,” Warriors assures him. “It's a useful skill, to be able to blend in anywhere.”
Legend goes for a smirk, and it doesn't quite land, but Warriors doesn't call it out this time. “Unlike your overly Hylian hide.”
“Hey.” Warriors rolls his eyes. He should've known that Legend would go for insults to cover up the potent emotion.
“You heard me.”
“I know I'm not ideal for stealth missions—”
“That's an understatement.”
“—but I did all right in there!”
“You were my distraction, actually.”
“That's not fair.”
“Yes it is.”
“No it isn't! I didn't know!”
“Oh, hey, look, the Epona.”
“We aren't done here.”
“Yes we are, mister soggy suit.”
“—soggy!—”