Chapter Text
Wind wasn’t supposed to die.
The sentence replayed in Warriors’ head, looping over and over like a record stuck on repeat, a mantra he couldn’t quite believe anymore.
Warriors knew Wind would be fine. He had to be, because he became Tune. Tune was in the War of Eras and knew Warriors before Warriors knew Wind, so Wind had to be fine. It was simple, really, and yet the concept was stuck in his head like a thought he couldn’t quite understand.
It should have been a simple battle - bokoblins with black blood. Harder than a typical horde, yes, but no harder than what they had already dealt with. Warriors and Wind had already been separated from the others, and they were alone against dozens. Warriors hadn’t been paying attention to Wind. Of course he hadn’t been. Wind wasn’t going to die.
They called to each other over the snorting of the monsters - status updates, check-ins and even small jabs and jokes if they were able. Warriors could hear Wind’s voice stutter as he ducked out of the way, but Wind continued his taunt like nothing happened.
“C’mon, captain! You’re slowing down!”
“Is that so?” Warriors called back with a smirk, cutting through three more monsters in a single horizontal slash. “Have you been keeping count?”
“Don’t need to count to see it!”
Warriors shook his head slightly, spearing his sword through the stomach of one bokoblin and then swinging it into another, sending both bodies flying. “Little shit,” he muttered fondly.
Wind laughed, his high pitched voice ringing over all of the chaos, and then they fought onwards. Simple and repetitive, something that shouldn’t have taken longer than ten minutes. Something that should have been fine, because Wind wasn’t supposed to die.
And then a horrible, squelching noise cut above the rest of the world, a pained whimper, and a sickening thud.
The rest of the world turned into a hazy blur for Warriors. He remembered the feeling of spearing through the rest of the monsters like they were nothing and then dropping in the dirt next to Wind. He remembered how Wind shook in his arms as Warriors searched for a potion, finding nothing - no elixir, no fairy, nothing.
The boy was scared, of course he had been. Warriors remembered saying it would be okay, that he wouldn’t die, not here, although he was certain he hadn’t said those exact words. His scarf was turning from a vibrant blue to a dull purple as he tried to stop the bleeding, ignoring the sticky feeling of warm, fresh blood on his hands as Wind cried.
He remembered calling out to anyone, though he didn’t remember how long it was. He didn’t remember when Wind went still, either, or when Wind had grabbed onto his wrist, or when Wind had become so cold.
There were footsteps and muffled voices, but he couldn’t recall what they had said. Someone pulled out a fairy in a bottle, but the small creature had only floated over Wind’s small form before slowly going back to them. Hyrule’s life spell hadn’t done anything, Warriors knew this because his throat was still raw and aching from when he had raised his voice, roaring at Hyrule to do something.
In the end, he could do nothing. Even now, he could do nothing, and as he tried to ignore the dried blood of his little brother under his fingernails, the only thought in his head was that Wind wasn’t supposed to die.