Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The familiar sound of grainy sand hit Wind’s ears. His heart began to race—so fast he could swear it would leap out of his mouth.

Dark-brown eyes snapped open. He could almost taste salt in the air—

Sand. Nothing but sand. No water in sight.

The sun blazed overhead, viciously hot. But that wasn’t the bad part. Wind was used to heat—it was a part of home.

It was the air.

So still. No breeze, no motion, no freshness. Nothing.

It felt like the cabin all over again. Only worse. The stillness back then was the Beast’s doing.

This time, it was natural.

Or at least, it should’ve been. But every instinct in him screamed that something was wrong.

“Oh, what the hell, Hylia! A desert?! Really?!”

Someone groaned behind him. Wind turned, his body trembling slightly with the motion, and saw the rest of his brothers stepping out of the swirling purple portal.

So this was a desert?

It had been weeks since the Beast incident — and a few more since their stop at Outset. At least, that’s what Wind’s count told him. He was probably off, though.

He, Cap, and Wild had been the first to enter the portal. Now, Legend, Hyrule, and Mask were following close behind.

“Yeah, no kidding. But don’t complain — it only gets worse when you do. It’s always like that,” Wild said, his tone too casual for someone standing under a blazing sun. He sounded like he was speaking from experience.

Wind almost laughed, but the thick, motionless air caught in his throat. He heard Hyrule agree and start talking animatedly with Wild, while Cap scanned their surroundings.

Four and Sky appeared next, and as soon as their boots hit the sand, the portal shimmered — and vanished into nothing.

“Alright, does anyone recognize this area?” Mask called, brushing the sand off his gloves.

“Mine,” Sky said, raising a hand. “This is the Lanayru Desert. I think we’re near the end of it. If we want to get out of here, it’ll take a couple of days at most.”

A couple of days.

Wind swallowed, feeling the heat sink into his skin — and that still, suffocating air pressing down like a heavy blanket.

“Before we go,” Cap said, drawing everyone’s attention to him. “We’re already feeling the heat, so let’s take off a few layers. I wouldn’t recommend removing your armor, though — we never know what hides in this wasteland.”

He proceeded to pull his scarf off, and Wind blinked — it was really weird to see him without it.

The Chain started to shed their extra layers, some doing it with dramatic flair, others with quick, efficient motions.

Wind swallowed down the discomfort — no, agony — and tugged his blue tunic off, carefully placing his pirate’s charm inside his bag before removing the underlayer beneath it. Then he pulled his tunic back on.

The still air seemed to cling even more to his skin, heavy and unmoving, but at least he felt a little less suffocated by the heat.

And then, they started walking.

Wind fought not to suffocate on this damn, nonexistent air — and not to worry his brothers. To do that, he had to talk. To keep moving. To pretend this was fine. The heat was nothing, right? He was used to it. He was fine.

The sailor walked with a spring in his step, just ahead of his brothers — except for Wild, who was leading the group for some reason. Though Sky was walking just a few steps behind the champion.

Wind took a long look at him. His brother had changed all his clothes — how did he even do that so fast? No idea. He wore a really cool green armor set and fitted pants, his blond hair tied high in a ponytail.

“Hey, champion!” Wind called out, forcing his voice to sound bright.

Wild looked back at him, smiling fondly. His hair was already plastered to his forehead with sweat, but he looked completely chipper.

“Sup’ sailor!” He raised his hands for a high five and Wind complied, jumping a little and clapping their hands loudly.

“How are you not covered in sweat?” Wild raised an intrigued eyebrow, passing a hand through Wind’s forehead and only finding a little bit of sweat.

“Dunno, you are the one sweating too much, that’s not normal!” Wind said, smirking playfully.

“Kid, the sun is literally frying our brains. You're the one who’s weird.” Wild swatted his head and Wind swatted his head back with a jump.

“How do you even have this much energy in this heat?” Sky groaned from Wind's other side, he looked really tired already.

The sailor and champion shared a look, smiling wide. They both knew exactly what to do.

The duo came up to Sky and each grabbed an arm.

“What—” The knight didn’t have time to ask. Wild and Wind started running and screaming as fast and loud as they could, forcing Sky to keep up, though they still lifted him off the ground a little. Good thing Wind had his Power Bracelets.

“AAAAH, STOP IT!!” Sky screamed, a mix of anger and panic. But the two runners just laughed even louder.

“But this is way more fun!” Wild and Wind shouted together.

“Champion! Sailor! Don’t run ahead of everyone!!” Cap’s voice carried behind them as Wind heard the others laughing.

More thundering footsteps joined theirs as Hyrule and Four appeared at their sides.

“Race ya!!” the traveler and smith shouted in unison before speeding ahead.

“HEY! THAT’S NOT FAIR! WE’RE CARRYING A PERSON, YOU ASSHOLES!!” Wind yelled after the two cheaters.

“YEAH! YOU DIDN’T EVEN SET A FINISH LINE!!” Wild shouted even louder than Wind, pouting childishly.

Four and Hyrule didn’t hear him (or pretended not to, the little shits-) and kept running ahead of everyone. Wind and Wild began to slow down involuntarily. The sailor heard Sky sigh in relief as the remaining Links finally caught up to them.

“Time, could you help me catch the troublemakers? They’re going to get either lost or hurt like this,” Twilight said right next to Wind—

Wait—Time?

Wind snapped his head toward the rancher. He saw Mask nodding in response.

“We’ll probably need a head start. Veteran, could you handle that for me?” his big little brother said to Legend, who only smirked before activating his speedy boots and sprinting toward the cheaters.

But… it can’t be. He would have told me—
No one ever called him anything other than Mask (for himself and Cap) or old man.

“Time as in Hero of Time?” Wind whispered to Sky and Wild, his voice shaking a little.
“Yep,” Wild answered simply, alongside Sky’s calm, “Yes, Wind. You never heard his title? I thought he would’ve told you when you were in that era together.”

Suddenly, the stillness seemed to press down on his skull even harder than before. Even the Power Bracelets couldn’t help him support Sky’s arm as he let go and stumbled to the side.

Why didn’t he tell me?
He knows the story—so why?

Tears stung his eyes. It would be so easy to just give in to the stillness right now. Everything felt heavy—his chest, his limbs, his heart. No wind, no life, no motion. Just pressure. Pressure. Pressure—

“Link!”

Wind jerked back from the touch on his bare forearm. He blinked up at Sky’s worried face, but it was so hard to breathe—so damn hard—

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. Shhhh.” Sky’s voice was soft, steady, like a lullaby in the heat. “Here. What do you see?”

A scarred, stocky hand came into view. For some reason, Wind found himself complying.

“Linings,” he whispered, tracing his brother’s hand with his eyes. “Scars…” He wondered absently what battles those were from. “Callouses. From a sword.” His own smaller, calloused hand brushed against Sky’s lightly.

“Yes, that’s right,” Sky murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Wind met his deep ocean-blue eyes.

He could breathe a little better now, even though the air still refused to move.

“Do you mind if I hug you?” Sky asked, his arms hovering uncertainly.

Wind didn’t answer — he just hugged his brother tight. Sky wrapped his arms around him just as tightly. The sailor could feel and smell the sweat clinging to him, but that was still so much better than the stillness.

After a few minutes, they pulled apart — Wind first.

“Feeling better? Can you breathe properly?” Sky’s voice was still tight with concern.

Wind nodded, managing a shaky smile.

“Alright. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But if you need me, just call, okay?” Sky said softly, guiding him back toward their brothers. They walked side by side until they reached Wild, Twilight, Cap, and Legend, who had finally caught up with the cheaters. The others shot them a few worried looks but didn’t say anything. Wind felt deeply grateful for that.

The sailor refused to look at Mask—Time?

The taste of betrayal was bitter on his tongue, even if he wasn’t sure it could really be called that.

Wind looked out at the endless sand, listening to his brothers chat and laugh at the occasional joke, though their voices were quieter than before.
The flood, the Great Sea, Ganondorf, the king—Daphnes— it all came rushing back as they walked. The windless fucking atmosphere did not let him relax whatsoever.

He really hated this place.

Chapter Text

They had been walking for a long time. Wind didn’t know how much, though — counting made his stomach twist. He didn’t want to think about numbers, not now, not when they reminded him of him⁠.

He already felt his legs begin to get heavy, and he could hear his and his brothers’ breathing grow more ragged with every step. The sun did not weaken its scorching rays. They hadn’t encountered anything since they arrived. The only interesting thing that happened was Wild and Hyrule trying to find hidden stuff in the sand. The champion used his slate with that magnetic ability it had, and Hyrule used only his eyes (which were terrifyingly good). They only found a few broken metal materials and some unidentifiable junk. But they still tried, and the Chain all smiled at their antics.

The duo tried to make Wind join them, but he just didn’t have the energy, and they soon gave up, shooting even more worried glances toward him. Sky hovered closer and closer to him as they walked.

Wind gritted his teeth, balling his hands into tight fists as he stared at the endless sand ahead.
⁠Stop acting so worried, I’m fine! Sky is almost dead on his feet—why don’t you look at him instead? Right, because he’s the fucking adult who can handle himself!

Cap appeared at his side. His scarf, which normally fluttered with the wind, hung still against his neck. Fuck.

“Sailor? Tune? Is everything alright?” he asked, studying Wind with searching eyes, as if trying to find a crack in his armor.

“It’s fine,” Wind said curtly—sharper than he meant to.

Cap’s brows knit tighter. “Is it the desert?”

Wind didn’t answer. The man paused, thinking aloud.
“The atmosphere is unbearably hot here,” he said slowly, “but that’s not what’s bothering you.”

He hesitated, then added quietly, “You miss the breeze, don’t you?”

Wind flinched before he could stop himself, and clarity sparked in the captain’s eyes.
This is bullshit.

“Tune, you know you can talk to us, right? Remember when we made that deal—to speak up when something bothered us?” Cap said.

Wind refused to look at him. Fucking great. He’s pulling that card now.

“Sorry, Toony, but you’re breaking that deal. Dealing with your problems silently has never been your forte,” the captain continued, his voice calm—like he was talking to a misbehaving child.
And Wind thought he’d learned not to treat him like that back during the war. He was older now, for the Goddesses’ sake!

“That’s not your problem! You always have to poke your nose into my fucking business—just leave me alone!”

The explosion of words drew everyone’s attention.
And then, suddenly, a violent breeze surged at his feet.

Wind froze, eyes wide, watching as the gust swirled up—and vanished just as quickly as it came.

He looked around, catching the surprised, concerned looks of his brothers. The sailor finally met the captain’s eyes. Cap looked tense—though Wind couldn’t tell why.

“Sailor—” the traitor started, but Wind didn’t want to hear it.

“Fuck you!” he spat, storming ahead of everyone, ignoring his brothers’ shouts behind him. But this time, it wasn’t fun to run ahead.

What was that? What’s wrong with my magic?

The tingling in his stomach was more noticeable now, crawling alongside the unnatural stillness of the air.
Uncertainty and fear bloomed in his chest.

Does this have to do with the Beast?

His mind flashed to the mark that never faded, even after weeks had passed.
He’d never shown it to his brothers—he knew they’d worry if they saw that he hadn’t escaped the air jerk’s attack unscathed.

Something connected with his foot, making him stumble forward. Wind looked up and glared at whatever had made him almost fall on his face.

It was a bit of very old wood buried on the ground, most of it was hidden away, but Wind could see a little bit of the rest of the thing. He followed it with his eyes.

It was a ship. A decayed one.

“What the hell?...” The sailor whispered to no one. What is a ship doing here? Unless—

This was a sea. This whole area was filled with salty water and free wind.

It was almost like Hylia was playing a cruel joke on him — bringing him to a dead version of his home.
Not like home wasn’t already a fucking graveyard.

Wind stopped himself at that. It’s not the time.

The sailor stepped closer to the half-sunk ship, the only part still visible being half the main deck. He hovered a hand over the ancient wood.

He placed it over a broken mast, brushing the sand away gently. Intricate symbols emerged — carved markings with meanings only its sailors would ever know.

What were they like? Did they travel far on this vessel? What was its name?

A lone tear slipped down his cheek.

Did they die painfully? With water filling their lungs, stealing their last breath?

More tears fell, but it didn’t make him feel any lighter.

Wind sat beside the ship, hugging his legs tightly and burying his face between them. He let himself mourn — for these sailors, for their home, and for his own.

Some time passed — it felt like only a few minutes to Wind — when he heard light footsteps. He immediately stood up, hand on the hilt of his sword—

A wide-eyed Four stood a few steps away, right next to the piece of wood Wind had tripped on earlier.

Guilt rose sharp and sudden in his chest. He’d yelled at his brothers for no real reason, and now they were out here searching for the idiot who stormed off into a probably dangerous wasteland.
Still, Wind didn’t want to face any of them right now.

“Wind,” Four said quietly, his red eyes glowing with concern.

The sailor didn’t answer. He just sat back down where he’d been before, curling in on himself.
“I don’t want to talk,” he muttered, his voice small and rough.

Four didn’t leave like Wind hoped he would — like a good brother might’ve done. Instead, he sat down beside him, close but not touching.

They stayed there in a strange, heavy silence. Thankfully, Wind didn’t need the distraction. He was starting to get used to this windless bullshit.

“I stopped growing.”

The sailor looked up at the smith, one eyebrow raised. The fuck?

Four didn’t look at him. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the orange-tinted sky.
“In one of my adventures, I got magic that could make me really small—like the time when the traveler and I went to rescue you.”

“When I first experienced it, I was ten. I was so excited about it,” Four continued softly. “I could talk to these tiny people called Minish—or Picori—and even go inside their houses made of leaves.”
He paused for a moment, lost in the memory.

“What are these tiny people?” Wind found himself asking before he could stop it. Dammit, he was too curious.

Four chuckled, the sound low and fond. “They’re like tiny mice wearing leaf clothes—and sometimes hats. They’ve got little feathers for tails, I suppose. They help Hylians and other races in their own small ways. Though…” He smiled faintly. “Only good children can see them.”

Wind’s eyebrows shot up. “I think I saw one before!” He very deliberately ignored the ‘good children’ part.

“Really? What were they like?” Four finally looked at him, smiling with genuine curiosity.

“I don’t know exactly. I saw something hidden inside a tiny flower, but when I got closer, it vanished!”
Wind remembered how his ten-year-old self (ironically) spent days searching the whole island for the tiny mouse-thing. He’d eventually gone to Granma crying about it; she had just chuckled, wiped his face, and promised to make his favorite soup. The Minish (apparently) were forgotten the moment the pot hit the stove.

“Ah, yes. They can be very skittish,” Four said, eyes shining. “But I’ll introduce you someday, if you want.”

“Yes! I want to see them!” Wind blurted, a wide smile breaking through—until he realized he’d fallen right into Four’s trap and immediately curled up again, embarrassed.

“After my adventure, I still had the shrinking magic,” Four continued, softer now. “I kept visiting the Minish whenever I could.”
A shadow crossed his face. “Then I started having this… strange pain every time I shrunk. I thought it was nothing—growing pains, maybe.”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it, and Wind felt his whole body tense.

“Years passed. The pain stopped… but everyone else my age grew.”
Four’s voice dropped to almost a whisper.
“I didn’t. I stayed the same, as if time never passed for me. My peers got girlfriends or boyfriends, some even got engaged. And I’m… still the same.”

His brother looked so sad that Wind’s first instinct was to throw his arms around him and whisper whatever sweet nonsense came to mind. But he didn’t. Instead, he simply scooted closer until their sides touched. Four relaxed immediately at the contact.

“I learned to come to terms with it, eventually,” Four continued, his voice softer now. “Appearance isn’t everything. I’m still eighteen in my head, even if my body stopped at ten. And… I’m happy I can still see the Minish. They were some of the first friends who helped me accept myself.”

He sighed deeply, then turned to Wind. Green eyes—now tinged red—met dark brown with a steady, almost glowing understanding. Did his eyes just change color?

“What I’m trying to say, sailor,” Four said gently, placing both hands on Wind’s shoulders, “is that magic is a complicated thing. It’s wonderful, but it can hurt us too—especially those who weren’t born with it. Please don’t hesitate to ask for help, okay?”

Wind didn’t want to deny it anymore. Didn’t have the energy to pretend everything was fine.

“…Okay,” he whispered.

Four smiled—relieved, warm, like he’d just set down a heavy weight. And Wind felt the same.

“M-my magic, it has gotten stronger since the Beast. But it’s hard to control.” Wind whispered, finally letting himself talk about what has been bothering him for the last weeks. “And where the monster attacked me when I saved Sky, a…mark has been formed there, it's been there for weeks and it keeps tingling.”

Four listened calmly, nodding along, his eyes were now purple. His eyes did change colour…!

Wind decided to not open that can of worms at the moment.

“And this place, I think, makes it worse. There’s no wind here, it makes me feel bad, really bad. And back there when I screamed at Cap,” Wind winced at that, but Four nodded encouragingly for him to continue. “The atmosphere responded to my emotions, I think. I couldn't do that before. I could only sense the wind and command it with my Wind Waker. But now…” He trailed off.

Four seemed deep in thought when Wind looked at him again.
“I see… your magic is stronger but unstable, and there’s a strange mark on your body that hums. Alright.”

The smith adjusted his position and turned fully toward Wind.
“Can I see it?” he asked suddenly.

Wind froze. He knew he had to show it—he knew—but the hesitation clawed at his chest. He didn’t want his brother to see something that had almost killed him (among other things).
“Promise you won’t freak out,” the sailor said, gripping the fabric of his tunic.

“I promise.”
Four sounded so certain, so grounded, that Wind couldn’t help but believe him.

He pulled off his belt and slowly began tugging the tunic over his head.

The hot, suffocating atmosphere hit his bare skin immediately, making him almost regret removing it—but some sacrifices had to be made.

The sailor and the smith looked at the mark at the same time.

At first glance, it looked like a normal old injury. But when you really looked at it—followed the strange, uneven edges—it became obvious that it wasn’t shaped like a cut made by a short sword.
Wind had been struck by one… yet the scar didn’t match the weapon at all.

Instead, the wound looked warped. Wrong. As if something had mangled the skin and flesh with jagged teeth, twisting the original injury into something unrecognizable and irreversible.

Wind looked at Four hesitantly. The smaller Hero’s face was drawn tight with focus, but he didn’t say a word. His brother closed his eyes for a moment—thinking, maybe steadying himself—then snapped them open again.

“Sailor, this is… concerning. We need someone more experienced in magic.” Four’s voice was calm, but firm. “The traveler, the vet, or the old man are our best options.”

Wind’s stomach dropped.
He definitely didn’t want to talk to him.
But he kept that buried; he couldn’t risk Four picking up on the fact that this wasn’t the only thing weighing on him.

“Okay,” Wind said quietly. “Let’s talk to ‘Rulie then. I think he’s the most experienced magic user.”

He pushed himself up, brushing the sand from his legs. Pulling his tunic back over his head, he let out a small breath of relief as the cloth covered the mark again—hiding it from sight, if not from memory.

They had barely started walking away from the sunken ship when Wind heard shouting behind them.

“Sailor! Smithy! We’ve been looking for you two everywhere!”

It was the captain — only a few meters off, storming toward them with a face like thunder.
Shit.

And the rest of the Chain was right behind him, following in a tight pack.

Wind swallowed hard.

He was so fucking screwed.

Chapter Text

Time let out a quiet sigh of relief when they finally found Wind and Four.

They seemed fine—at least physically—but his little big brother was looking at them like they were the ones who’d done something wrong. Fear was written across Wind’s face.
Old habits die hard; even after all the time nonsense that made Time older in body, that protective instinct toward the boy who used to be thirteen and a half (as they were always reminded) never really went away.

Captain was furious, and rightfully so. But Time saw past it—saw the fear beneath. He stepped forward, ready to intervene if things went sideways.

Wind still refused to look at him. The familiar stab of hurt caught him off-guard, but he pushed it down like always.

“Wind,” Captain said, his voice rigid enough to split stone.

Wind tensed immediately, and Four set a steady hand on his shoulder.

“You promised you wouldn’t separate from us in a place you don’t know!” the captain burst out. Wind stared at his boots. “Do you not remember what happened last time?! Sprite almost lost his arm trying to save you! Isn’t that enough for you to understand?!”

Time winced at both the memory and the tone.
The Chain fell into a somber silence—anger, fear, and worry mixing into something heavy.

“I…” Wind—Tune—looked like he was about to fall apart. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, and a sob tore out of him before he could stop it.

Time didn’t even think. Instinct overrode reason, and he stepped forward to pull his little big brother into a hug—even though every logical part of him said Wind wouldn’t want that right now.

Unfortunately, his rational side was right.
As soon as Time got close, Tune flinched violently away from him, Four’s hand slipping from his shoulder.

“Don’t.”

The word was sharp, almost bitten out. And something inside Time cracked clean through.

Tune turned away quickly, Sky and Wild moving in on either side of him like they’d rehearsed it. Hyrule and Legend stayed back for a moment, giving the sailor one last searching look before going to check on the others.

Time swallowed the hurt—again—and forced on the familiar mask of the responsible adult. He told the boys to get moving. They couldn’t linger in this wasteland.

Tune wouldn’t snap at him without a reason. Whatever it was… Time probably deserved it.
He just wished he knew why.

-

It was night now. The desert air had turned cold—strangely, not as cold as the Gerudo Desert in his own era. Some of his brothers tucked their warmer clothes again, others didn't, saying they could take the cold (someone nicknamed Legend).

Time was grateful for it not being so harsh, at least. The drop in temperature wouldn’t bother his little big brother too much.

He couldn’t help remembering the war.

The moment the snow first fell, Tune had gotten horribly sick. Within weeks, his fever raged nonstop, burning so hot that ten-year-old Time had been terrified just to touch him. And yet Tune—stubborn, infuriating, beloved—still insisted on helping the other soldiers with medical work. (Both Cap and Time had fought tooth and nail to keep him off the battlefield, and Tune had grudgingly obeyed… mostly.)

Time remembered him sitting at his bedside one night, smiling brightly despite his flushed face, sweat dripping down his temples—the only time Tune ever got truly sweaty.

“Don’t worry, Masky,” he’d said, flexing his somewhat muscly arms with a grin. “Your big brother is the strongest hero-pirate of the Great Sea!”

Ten-year-old Time had snickered up at him. “But you’re the only hero-pirate that exists. As far as we know.”
“That’s why I’m so awesome!” Tune had declared proudly—before doubling over in a harsh cough, eyes drooping with exhaustion.

At that, back then, Time had been the little brat he was and swatted his little big brother’s head, telling him to go to bed or else he would tell Cap that Tune had been killing minor monsters when he wasn't looking.

And now, instead of boasting about being the strongest hero-pirate, Tune—Wind was curling into himself, the cold and dead atmosphere making him tremble. He couldn't take another terribly sick little big brother, so he told Wild and Sky to stay closer to him and give him something to warm himself in. To which the duo didn't even ask why and immediately gone into action.

Wind was almost squeezed between their brothers and with a big coat over him, which worked to make him look smaller than normal, and a blue royal scarf on his neck, moving faintly behind him.

Time smiled bitterly, looking to his side and spotting the Captain with an unreadable look on his face, his neck bare without its usual accessory.

"There's definitely something he’s not telling us," the man said, staring at the horizon with a frown.

"I know." Time answered quietly. "Do you remember when he didn’t tell us he had a spider bite on his arm?"

"Yeah. The little shit hid it for so long he started getting weak. Said we didn’t need to worry about him because he was stronger than he looked." Captain let out a sad smile, then turned to Time with a pointed look.

"But you can’t say anything about that. You were—and are—just as much a little shit as he was—and is!" Cap grinned mischievously and shoved Time’s face to the side, making him stumble.

"As if! You’re the one who’s so bossy you can’t take a little prank or two!" Time shot back, laughing as he bumped into his other big brother, nearly knocking him onto his butt.
“The old men are fighting again,” Legend muttered somewhere in the back. He said it like he didn’t act like an old man on a daily basis.

“Yeah, we’re totally fighting — and I’m winning!” Cap yelled as he barreled straight into Time. Unfortunately for him, the oldest didn’t even budge.

Though, to be fair, Captain had gotten stronger. Little rascal.

“I’m stronger than you think. Don’t you remember?” Time cackled, easily locking Cap’s arms in place. The Captain’s face was priceless.

“Time’s gonna win, pretty sure.”

“Yeah, Wars is pretty lacking in muscle.”

“Both are old men, so their bones are probably gonna creak too loud.”

“COME ON — YOU’RE THE WORST!” Cap shouted, kicking Time’s unprotected ankle so he could break free.

“I’m disowning you as brothers!” he declared dramatically, looking deeply offended.

Time, meanwhile, just wanted to laugh until his stomach hurt. He was already feeling much better; his brothers worked like magic on his mood, and Time was glad they did.

He even spotted Wind watching the whole ordeal with a tiny smile tucked between the champion and the knight. Time felt something inside him loosen. Maybe he could talk to him later—an actual conversation this time. He just needed to get Wind’s spirits up a little more.

“You can’t disown any of us, Cap. You wouldn’t survive with your shitty mood.”
Time grinned and swept a foot toward his big brother’s ankles. Cap yelped and leapt forward to dodge—straight into Time.

Time oofed under the sudden weight, and the two of them went tumbling into the sand, immediately trying to pin each other down.
“Time, aim for his weak points!” Wild shouted, practically vibrating with excitement.
“Aim for the jugular!” Four cheered.
“No!” Legend barked, while Hyrule countered, “Go for the hair!”

Time didn’t waste a second (pun fully intended) and shoved both hands—full of dirty sand—straight into Cap’s golden blond locks.

“NOT THE HAIR!” Captain screamed like his life depended on it, and immediately latched onto Time’s forearm with his teeth, taking advantage of the fact that he wasn’t wearing full armor.

“Ow! You little asshole!” Time barked, pinching hard at Cap’s side until the bastard finally let go.
All of a sudden, a loud, high-pitched laugh cut through the chaos. Everyone froze and turned toward the source.

It was Wind.

He was laughing so hard he doubled over, shoulders shaking, and for a moment the air itself seemed to brighten—wind swirling more alive, as if delighted to bask in the Hero of Winds’ happiness.

But the moment didn’t last.
As soon as he noticed the sudden silence and all the eyes on him, Wind’s smile faltered. His expression darkened, and he hid his face in Cap’s scarf.

“…It’s best we stop for now,” Time said quietly, exhaling as the tension settled back into his bones. “Time out,” he added toward Cap.

“Fine,” Captain huffed, though he wore a wide grin. “But this is not over.” He grabbed Time’s wrist and hauled him up.

After Sky finished giving out the next directions, they started moving again.
It looked like just one more day until they reached civilization.

And then—finally—Time would have a chance to talk to his little big brother.

-

Four hours and a half later, Time spotted something in the distance and his heart jumped inside his chest. He glanced over his shoulder and found Hyrule already watching him expectantly.

“Hyrule, I think I see something. Could you check for me?” he called.

Hyrule nodded eagerly and trotted to his side. The traveler squinted at the shimmering silhouette ahead. After a few long minutes, his eyes widened comically.

“It’s a house! No— a bunch of houses! Made out of sand!” Hyrule announced triumphantly.

“Oh, thank you Hylia,” Legend said, absolutely dripping sarcasm. Twilight sighed beside him; he looked the most exhausted of all of them—besides Wind.

“What? But there isn’t any civilization like that in the Lanayru Desert,” Sky said, suspicion sharpening his voice.

“That’s not normal?” Cap asked, concern and tension weaving tightly through his tone.

“No. It’s not,” Sky answered, his hand twitching as if fighting the urge to grab his sword.

As they got closer, Time saw exactly what Hyrule meant. Five small sandy houses sat clustered together, looking newly made—as if crafted just hours earlier. Pots and cacti were scattered everywhere, and for a moment, Time felt the old itch in his fingers. He wanted to smash every single pot like he used to in his younger years. There was always something good inside. And rupees, of course.

Time stopped a few meters from the houses, instinctively throwing an arm out to halt the others. He looked at Sky for confirmation.
“Knight, it’s your call. Should we go inside?”

Sky hesitated, eyes fixed on the dunes.
“Back in my adventure, this area was filled with sandstorms. I couldn’t pass through. I only realized it now.” His brows furrowed. “And the desert is… strangely windless. It’s never like this.”

Before Time could answer, a shout tore through the still air:

“YOU THERE! Who are you? What are you doing in our desert?”

The Chain snapped their heads up.

A man stood in front of the small sand houses. Strange swirling markings covered his dark skin, glowing faintly under the moonlight. Golden earrings caught the light, and the only clothing he wore was a length of silky cloth wrapped around his waist.

Is that… a Gerudo?

“We’re travelers passing through,” Time said, raising both hands and forcing his voice into calm neutrality. “We mean no harm. We’re only looking for a place to rest. We can pay.”

“Liar!” the man snapped. “You shouldn’t even be able to see us! What did you do to the sand barrier?”
He surged forward, scimitar flashing dangerously in the moonlight.
Time instinctively gripped the handle of his sword, though he didn’t draw it. With his other hand he signaled the rest of the Chain to get ready.
“We haven’t done anything. There was nothing covering—”

A sudden breeze swept over their heads.

Not a normal desert wind. Like they should have felt ever since they arrived here.It was too focused. Too alive.

Time’s stomach dropped.

He turned, and the gust was coming directly from Wind.

Everyone saw it—Wind included. His eyes were blown wide, panic twisting his expression as his fluffy hair whipped violently around him. This wasn’t the happy or playful wind that usually danced around him; this was raw, unstable magic.

“YOU!” the man roared, pointing the scimitar straight at Wind. “You’re the one disturbing the ancient magic of our ancestors! You will pay for this!”

“What?! I don’t even fucking know what’s happening!!” Wind shouted back, drawing his sword in one sharp motion—
and the wind reacted instantly.

It snapped into a violent spiral, kicking up sand in a sudden rush that stung their skin.
Within seconds, a small storm circle formed around Wind, shielding him and isolating him all at once.

This is going to get worse if it doesn’t stop.

“Sailor, please! I can see your magic is unstable—you need to calm down!” Time yelled, stepping forward.

But everything happened far too fast.

Wild, Cap and Twilight lunged to shield Wind.
Four, Sky, Hyrule, and Legend rushed the strange man before he could strike.

And then the world vanished into sand.

A wall of swirling grit rose around them, blinding and deafening. Time could barely see shapes moving, just silhouettes and shadows. His ears rang with shouts—Wind’s terrified cries, Captain barking orders, Legend cursing, the stranger yelling something he couldn’t make out.

He squeezed his eyes shut against the sand trying to force its way into his ears, his nose, his mouth—
and prayed his brothers would hold together long enough for him to reach Wind.
Time blinked hard, the world finally settling into focus. The sand slid off his shoulders in sluggish sheets. Every muscle in his body still buzzed with leftover magic — Wind’s magic.

He pushed himself up—when had he fallen?—coughing.
“Is everyone—?”

His voice died.

The stranger lay sprawled in the sand, chest rising and falling in shallow, unconscious breaths.

And right next to him—

“Wind…” Time whispered.

The boy was limp, eyes closed, his hair still fluttering weakly with the remnants of wind that no longer stirred the desert.

Legend stood over them, shield out, arm still trembling from the impact. His eyes were wide and hollow, the edges of panic barely contained.

Time stared at him.
Legend stared back.

“I had to do it,” Legend said again, voice cracking around the edges this time, like he was trying to convince himself. “He— he wasn’t stopping. He was going to tear the whole damn place apart. I didn’t have a choice.”

For a long moment, Time said nothing. He just looked at Wind’s face — too pale, too still — and felt something inside him twist.

The desert was silent.
And Wind wasn’t waking up.

Chapter Text

“What should we do with him?”

“I don’t know, General. If Herbo is right, he’s the one who disturbed our ancestors’ magic.”

“A child? He must’ve been seeing things. But… the wind disappearing like that doesn’t make sense either.”

“I suggest a test, General. Then we’ll know for sure.”

A hand shook his shoulder—hard. Wind jolted awake, eyes snapping open.

He was in some kind of prison cell. Sand everywhere. Even the bars were shaped out of sand, though his wrists and ankles were chained to the wall and floor with real iron. His head was pounding. Hard. Fuck Legend.

Two women stood in front of him—similar to the man who attacked him, with dark skin, painted markings, round ears, and minimal clothing. Except these two looked far more dangerous. And he didn't have his sword and shield, great.

Wind hoped that they hadn't dug inside his magic bags.

“You, child. Do you know who we are?” asked the woman with a high ponytail. Her brown-red hair caught what little sunlight slipped into the room.

Great. Another one calling me child like an old geezer.

“No idea.” The sailor shrugged dismissively. “Don’t care either, since you were so rude as to arrest and chain me.”

Ponytail snarled, stomping her sand-covered boots against the ground. Wind forced himself not to flinch.

“Then I guess you won’t care if we kill your friends.” She lunged forward, slamming both hands against the sandy bars—so close he felt the air shift.
Suddenly, Wind was very grateful to be behind them.

“Whoever you are, you won’t be able to hurt them,” Wind snapped back, leaning forward to match her glare. “They’re way stronger than you, sand-swabbies.”

Ponytail didn’t back off. If anything, a dangerous aura rolled off her, heavy and oppressive. Wind kept staring, even as his eyes burned and his muscles trembled. He refused—absolutely refused—to lose to these psychos.

After what felt like hours, she finally blinked.

Wind’s entire body melted with relief. His head pounded again, as if it protested the relaxation.

“You’re a tough one. I like you.” She stepped back with a sharp, predator’s smile.

Did I just earn approval for winning a staring contest?

“Kala, get him out of the cell,” Ponytail commanded the other woman, who had stayed silent through the whole ordeal.

Kala moved without a word. She rapped her knuckles against the wall beside the prison, and the sand bars immediately crumbled away.

She then knelt beside Wind and unlocked the shackles on his ankles with a tiny iron key. Wind stared at it, memorizing its exact shape and dents.
Might get the chance to steal that later.

The moment his legs were free, he pushed himself upright—though the sudden movement made his headache spike painfully.

He barely had a second to breathe before Ponytail grabbed the back of his neck in a firm, unyielding hold. She wasn’t choking him, but there was no opening to run. She had ridiculous strength.
It reminded him of Tetra—if Tetra were, like, two feet taller and made of pure muscle.

“I’m General Fisko of the Gerudae,” she said, tugging him forward. “And according to my subordinate, you are the one disturbing our ancient magic. So we’ll need to test you.” Her grip tightened in something disturbingly close to encouragement. “I’m sure you’ll be fine. You seem strong.”

She dragged him toward the hallway outside the prison.

Well, shit. I might die today. Might as well make it hard for them to kill me.

Fisko didn’t speak as they walked down the long, winding hallway (ridiculously long, in Wind’s opinion). The silence was suffocating, but at least the coolness inside helped dull the pounding in his skull.

Kala followed a few steps behind, but never too close. She kept her distance with a stiffness that told Wind she didn’t want to be near him. Almost afraid.
Great. Even the terrifying sand-psychos were scared of him.

His headache spiked sharply just as they stepped into open sunlight. Wind flinched, biting down a pained whimper.

“Wind!”
The shout hit him before the relief did.

He blinked at the sight: another sand-formed prison cell, larger than the one he'd been in but still far too cramped for all eight of his brothers… yet there they were, packed together and very, very alive.

Relief flushed through him so hard his knees nearly buckled.
He hadn’t hurt them. Good. Good.

“Thank Hylia you’re okay!” Twilight said, one hand gripping the front of his tunic like he was holding his own heart in place.

“I told you! Windy’s too tough for these weirdos!” Wild crowed proudly.

“Don’t be an idiot, Wild,” Legend muttered, whacking him upside the head. “They might still kill us.”

“Tune.” Captain stepped closer to the bars, gaze locked onto him. “Don’t do anything stup—”

“SILENCE!” Fisko’s voice cracked like a whip.

Every member of the Chain froze on instinct.

Even Captain shut his mouth.

“The Test of The Ancient shall take place here on the sand columns,” Fisko said in a booming voice, which made Wind’s headache spike inconveniently.

Then armed men and women began filling the wide room, taking positions in every corner.
Fuck.

An elderly woman stepped into the center. When she stopped, runes carved themselves into the sandy floor, forming a circle at her feet.

“We bring this individual to be tested by our Grand Lady Aberil. May the ancestors guide your ways.”
Fisko made a salute, which the old woman returned.

They dragged Wind toward the rune circle, and he was shoved onto his knees with absolutely no mercy. Wind tried to fight the grip, but Fisko was too strong — and the headache wasn’t helping.

“Fucking— seriously, Legend,” he muttered, trying not to look completely miserable as Aberil placed a wrinkled hand on his forehead. A strange, invasive magic pulsed through him.

Every instinct in his body screamed to throw it out. But it was so strong—

Wind began to swirl violently around him, though something kept it slightly contained. He heard gasps and whispers behind him.

Those fucking cunts—

“DON’T DO THAT!”

It was his big-little brother’s voice. “HIS MAGIC IS TOO UNSTABLE, IT MIGHT KILL US A—”

Wind heard a sharp gasp of pain, then a heavy thud behind him.
His blood boiled.
How DARE they hurt him—

The gales exploded outward. Wind roared through the chamber, his hair and clothes snapping violently in the storm. Shouts and heavy footsteps echoed everywhere—panic, anger, confusion. He could hear his brothers yelling too, but the wind screamed louder inside his skull. Every pulse of magic was another knife of pain.

Aberil started shaking. The old cunt actually trembled, and the invasive magic inside him wavered.
Yeah, take that, you bitch—

But she didn’t stop. The old woman pressed harder, forcing more of her strength against him.

Wind pushed back instinctively, desperately, furiously.

Stop it stop it stop it stop it STOP!

The intruding magic vanished.

Wind collapsed face-first into the sand. No more psychos digging into his core—but the headache flared ten times worse. He lifted his head a little; tears dripped down his face.

It’s just the pain, he told himself.

“This was all a big misunderstanding.”
Wind blinked up blearily at the old bitch. Aberil looked shaken to her core, staring at him like he was something dangerous.

She turned toward Fisko.
“This boy’s wind magic has been corrupted by malicious forces,” Aberil said, breath shaky. “It interfered with the century-old magic that protects our land. He was not doing any of it intentionally.”
She then turned to his brothers.

“I sense magical prowess among one of you.” Aberil lifted a weak hand toward the guards.
“Release that one. He may be able to help fix this for all of us.”

There was shuffling, murmurs, and Fisko barking orders—godesses above, would she ever shut up—

Then warmth bloomed through Wind’s skull, gentle and steady. He turned his head slowly.

Hyrule knelt beside him, hands placed carefully on either side of Wind’s head. After a few quiet minutes, he withdrew, offering a soft smile. The crushing headache had dulled to a faint tug behind Wind’s eye.

“You, boy,” Aberil called to Hyrule, her voice thin but steady. “You must help stabilize your friend’s magic. It is far too dangerous for my people—and for yours.”

She exhaled tremulously.
“My own magic is not what it once was. So I will teach you the old ways, young one.”
Hyrule froze for a moment—then a firm, steady resolve settled over his face. He nodded sharply at the old geezer.

They began discussing something incredibly complex, the kind of magical theory Wind’s exhausted brain absolutely refused to process. Whatever. He’d trust them to figure it out.

Both raised their hands toward him, violet and green light blooming softly around their palms.

Then it hit—like something sucking at him. Their magic pulled, gentle but precise, tugging the remnants of the evil inside him, scraping away the Beast’s corruption thread by thread.

What was left—breathing, trembling—was his own magic again. Altered, yes. But his. Only his.
Wind exhaled in relief, finally feeling the air move the way it was supposed to again. The room filled with shouts of joy, cheers bouncing off the sandy walls.

“Good job,” Aberil said softly to Hyrule. “You have a great deal of potential in you, boy. Don’t waste it.”

Hyrule lit up at the praise, smiling wide.

A strong hand grabbed Wind and hauled him upright in one smooth motion. His legs wobbled beneath him the moment his feet hit the ground.

“Careful there, little warrior. You’ll need some rest before those legs start listening to you again.”
Wind looked up to see Fisko, her expression noticeably friendlier than before.

“Sorry for the inconvenience. But I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tamper with our ancient magic again—though I suppose you didn’t have much of a choice.” Fisko barked a laugh and ruffled his hair aggressively.

Wind yelped and jerked away. “No shit!” he snapped. “Now will you let my brothers go?”
“So demanding!” Fisko looked entirely too pleased by that—weirdo. “You can let all of them go now,” she called to the guards.

His brothers immediately straightened, expectant and tense.

“Though,” Fisko added, her expression turning downright terrifying, “if you try anything, you will regret it.”

At that, the Chain became very careful as the sand bars lowered and they were released from their sandy jail.

Wild was the first to reach Wind.

“Little lobster!” he yelled, crushing the air out of Wind in a hug.

“Muddy bear!” Wind laughed, hugging back just as fiercely.

Sky, Twilight, and Cap barreled in next, nearly knocking Wind and Wild over. The sailor was swallowed in hands checking him, squeezing his shoulders, patting his head—he let it happen, begrudgingly, but secretly relieved.

Legend and Four followed, hovering between checking Wind and Hyrule, both of them full of sharp scolding and firm squeezes.

But Wind’s eyes went straight to his big little brother.

He had shut him out. He had scared him.

And the worst part—the part that churned in his stomach—

He was supposed to protect him. Hero of Time or not, right now he wasn’t the legendary Hero who left them. He was Link.

Link, the little brother Wind had fought to keep whole during the war. It didn’t matter why he hid the truth. Wind should’ve been there anyway.

Wind wriggled his way free from the tangle of bodies and made a straight line for Time. He didn’t hesitate—he threw his arms around him and held on tight.

Time froze for a heartbeat. But Wind didn’t let go.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” Wind whispered, more tears falling despite his best efforts.

“No,” Time said quietly, wrapping his arms tightly around him in return after a moment of hovering, “I’m the one who’s sorry.” His voice was trembling.

“Just take my apology, you little brat,” Wind hiccuped.

“Take mine and I’ll take yours, then,” Time chuckled softly—and Wind felt drops of water hit the top of his head.

Wind felt something settle in his chest, a piece clicking back into place after being buried for too long.

This wasn’t the end. They still had things to unravel.

And for once, he was ready to hear what his big little brother had been carrying.

Chapter Text

After all that test bullshit, Wind had to explain what they were doing there to Fisko — unfortunately. She insisted he be the one to explain, and Wind didn’t dare refuse. He knew she could easily kill them or send them to their deaths, misunderstanding or not.

Though, thankfully, after that old woman “fixed” him — he guesses — the air started to feel normal again. Wind was very, very grateful for that.

To be fair, Wind tried their usual travelers-lie-shit, but it didn’t work on her.
Fuckity fuck.
So he ended up being pressed into telling the truth while his brothers were put somewhere they couldn’t eavesdrop.

In the middle of his talk, Fisko interrupted, making Wind almost ignore her, but then:

“What is a hylian?” She asked, arching an eyebrow.

What? Is she actually fucking with me?

Wind searched her face for a minute, but he could only find genuine confusion. Which just confused him more.

“Um, me and my brothers are Hylians,” he said, still watching her face. “I mean—descendants of Hylians, not pure-bloods. But I’m pretty sure most of us count.”

Back on Outset, most people had round ears or only slightly pointed ones; the Great Flood had probably drowned most of the old Hylian bloodlines. He’d been the only kid on the island with fully pointed ears—the weirdo by default. (Wind didn't want to linger on that whole ordeal whatsoever).

Though after meeting his eight brothers? Yeah, he definitely wasn’t the weirdest anymore. Wild had the most pointy ears to ever point.

The older woman nodded firmly for him to continue.
“As far as I know, Hylians are the people blessed by the goddess Hylia. Their main characteristics are the mostly pointy ears and a more magical core, though that does not apply to all of us.”

Fisko seemed thoughtful for a moment. Then, all of a sudden, she reached her big hands toward Wind.
He immediately tensed, but instead she touched his ear lightly. If he wasn't looking, he wouldn’t have felt it.
She quickly withdrew her hand.

“Then they really are other human faces,” Fisko said, with a look in her eyes that Wind could describe as wonder.

Okay. Whatever the fuck that was. Fine, I’ll just throw all this on Sky’s lap, he can deal with this.

“One of my brothers is the leader of a group of Hylians who live not too far from here.”

The big woman immediately perked up.
“May I meet him?” she said, smiling expectantly.

Wind stood up from where he’d been sitting on a crate.
“Of course! He’ll be thrilled to talk more about the Hylians!”

Fisko stood up too and gestured silently for him to follow. Wind did so without hesitation.

Some were in windows — or more like holes in a sand wall. Some were in door frames, which had actual sand doors too. Damn, just how much stuff could they make with sand? Aryll would probably want to know. He should ask someone later.

Wind was annoyed by how openly they stared at him, but thankfully Fisko’s presence helped distract him, and there were some really badass paintings on the ground — bright, colorful, fun… except for the weapon-blood splattered across them.

“Boy, you haven’t told me your name,” she said, looking down at him as they walked side by side. It felt weird being this casual with her.

“We all have the same name, so we go by nicknames instead,” Wind said with a shrug. “You can call me Wind.”

Fisko looked oddly satisfied with that.
“Salutes, Wind. Welcome to the Gerudae Tribe,” she said with such genuine pleasure that Wind almost lagged behind in shock. He hurried to catch up.

“You are the one who looks the most normal to me,” she added, like the fucking weirdo she was.

“What?” Great. Now he was too normal. Fantastic.

“You and the other magical boy have almost the right skin color. All the others are far too pale—I almost worried they were sick.” Fisko actually looked concerned, brows furrowing as she studied him.

Wind wanted to laugh so fucking hard he nearly bent in half.

“Nah, that’s actually how they look all the time,” he said, waving it off. “Weird, right? When I first saw them, I almost couldn’t see them in the mist.” Wind grinned widely at her, to which she seemed confused.

“You don't lose sight of them anymore, do you?” Fisko said, looking directly into his eyes.

“Nope, I can find them pretty easily, almost way too easily sometimes.” Wind responded, struggling to maintain the sudden eye-to-eye.

Seriously, what's her deal with the eye-contact?

They finally reached the big room that held his brothers. Apparently they still weren’t allowed out, but at least they’d been given food and a place to rest. It was still night, probably creeping toward morning, and Wind just wanted to eat and pass out.

Fisko pushed the door open loudly.

The scene inside was… something.
Legend and Hyrule were eating some sort of roasted molgera-thing. Definitely smaller than an actual molgera, thank the gods. Legend looked two seconds away from vomiting, while Hyrule was happily stuffing his face.

Four was scolding Wild for some reason — and his blue eyes were the most furious Wind had ever seen them.

Twilight and Mask were watching Captain and Sky argue about something.
Perfect. He found his target.

Wind grinned mischievously and whispered to Fisko, pointing subtly at Sky. “That’s the one.”

The older woman immediately perked up and made a beeline toward the knight. Sky tensed the moment he saw her approaching.

Sorry, Sky. I need sleep and real food.

Wind headed toward Legend and Hyrule.

“Hey, Wind! Try this centipede! It’s super crunchy!” Hyrule said with his mouth full, beaming, while Legend made a gagging noise.

“Fine! If you all want to die, then do it! Don’t come fucking crying to me later!” the veteran snapped, tossing his molgera-thing aside before storming off to a corner to sulk.

Wind picked up the food Legend had tossed and took a careful bite.
Wow. What the fuck. It was actually good.

“’Rulie, this is so good! What the actual fuck.”

Hyrule looked delighted. “Right? I’m really enjoying their cooking. Though it doesn’t reach Wild’s level.”

“Yeah, it totally doesn’t.”
Then Wind remembered the mark. Right. Fuck. He needed Hyrule to check that later.

“Hey, ’Rulie. I wanted you to look at something for me — but maybe somewhere private?” he said, chewing on some tiny legs that reminded him of eating crabs back home.

Hyrule furrowed his brows. “Of course, sailor. But I think we should rest first and handle it in the morning. What do you think?”

“Actually? Great idea. I’m so fucking tired from all this bullshit. You must be too.” Wind sighed in relief and popped the last of his tiny molgera into his mouth.

“Yes. Let’s see what the others plan to do first,” Hyrule said with a quiet chuckle as he stood up and walked toward Fisko — who was currently intimidating Sky. Wind followed, though much slower.

Though, to Wind’s surprise, they seemed much friendlier now than before — which made him arch an eyebrow.

“Alright! That sounds great! Thanks for mending with us!” Sky said, perfectly calm.

“Of course. Our tribe wants to make more mendings in the future, and I believe we will all greatly benefit from it,” Fisko answered, sounding genuinely pleased.

Ugh. He forgot how much Sky could be a pushover. He can’t believe that actually worked on Fisko.

The General stopped talking and cleared her throat, pulling everyone’s attention toward her — even sulky Legend’s.

“Greetings, Heroes of other times,” Fisko announced, like that was the most normal thing in the world.
All the Links looked at Wind for an explanation; he simply signed: She’s too good.

“Misunderstandings aside, I believe I can now call you allies of the Gerudae Tribe.” The big woman smiled in that strange way of hers. “You may rest here and leave whenever you find it most suitable.”

“We are very grateful for your hospitality,” Mask said solemnly. “And we apologize for attacking one of you. But I’m glad these matters were resolved.”

Fisko looked a bit exasperated at that. “Yes, Herbo can be a bit of a knucklehead sometimes, but I gratefully accept your apologies. You may rest for now.” Then she headed for the door.

“Goodnight, General Fisko,” Sky called with a wave.

“Goodnight, Leader One.” She responded—and then looked at Wind. “Goodnight to you too, small warrior.” And with that, she left.

Um. Whatever he did to make her like him so much?

“Lobster, why is that big lady calling you that? It’s almost like she’s favoring you,” Wild asked, cocking his head. Four also stared at him with those sharp, searching purple eyes.

Wind shrugged. “No idea. She’s totally crazy.”

Mask—Time and Cap chuckled. Twilight gave him a concerned smile. “Are you okay, Wind?”

The sailor knew he was asking more than just about injuries. “Not really…” he said softly, eyes darting away.

He heard his big little brother sigh deeply before calling everyone to settle down. “Let’s arrange our camp. Everyone, get your bedrolls. Anyone volunteer for first watch?”

No one questioned why the old man was arranging watches. They all knew from experience what happened when you trusted strangers too quickly—especially strangers you’d known for, like, three hours.

Four volunteered for first watch, and soon a bunch of bedrolls were spread across the sandy ground, all clustered close together.
Wind got the fourth watch, like he usually did.

It was starting to get annoying. Twilight just kept staring at him while he arranged his bedroll. Seriously, sometimes Wind really couldn’t believe the rancher was twenty-six.

He turned his head to catch his worried brother inching closer, pretending he wasn’t. Twilight jolted like he’d been caught stealing cookies, opened his mouth to say something, but Wind cut him off.

“Twi,” he said, shoulders sagging with pure exhaustion. “If you’re that worried, come sleep with me. Don’t just stand there awkwardly. It’s giving me second-hand embarrassment.”

Twilight immediately dragged his bedroll next to Wind’s. “Sorry, sailor. You just seem so tired, and after everything that happened…”

“Yeah, I know. But I’m not the one who’s tired.” Wind flopped onto his bedroll and tugged Twilight down with him, earning a soft chuckle. “Come on, sleep.”
The sailor wrapped his arms around him. Twilight hugged back without hesitation.

Wind caught a glimpse of the others settling in. Wild sprawled on his stomach while Hyrule had half-slid out of his bedroll to use the champion as a pillow. Legend and Sky were back-to-back, though Wind couldn’t see clearly. T—Time and Captain had settled close to him and Twilight, lying side by side.

He had two difficult conversations waiting for him tomorrow: one with his big little brother, and one with ‘Rulie. But he wasn’t the Hero of Courage for nothing. He’d face them. He had to.

Wind let his eyes fall shut, sinking into his brother’s warmth.
For now, he let himself rest.

-

Morning came far too quickly after his fourth watch—during which he’d had to wriggle very carefully out of Twilight’s iron grip. No wonder he was so cranky And speaking of the devil, he wasn't even there anymore.

Wind blinked awake and pushed himself upright, noticing that a few of his brothers were already up and moving. He stretched, checked his things, and began strapping his sword and shield back into place.

“Hey, sailor.”

Wind turned. Time stood beside him, brows drawn so tight they were practically touching.

“Geez, lil’ bro, stop wrinkling your forehead like that. You’re gonna end up looking even more old,” Wind said, crossing his arms and trying for an easy smile.

Time eased his expression a little, but the air stayed stiff between them. Ever since the trial ended, things felt… off. Maybe the adrenaline crash, maybe everything they hadn’t said yet. But Wind knew the talk was coming, one way or another.

“I know we need to talk,” Time said before Wind could open his mouth. “But we’re leaving soon. It might be better to do this in the next era, okay?”

“Okay. But that’s a promise, right?” Wind asked quietly. He couldn’t help thinking of the promises they’d made during the War of Ages—when Wind was thirteen and a half, and Time, still just Mask, had only been ten. For Wind, that war was months ago. For Time… years. But the memories were etched deep into both of them.

“It is,” Time said, and this time his smile was small but warm—real. He extended his hand in their old compliment.

Wind’s heart tugged. He took the offered hand and slipped his pinky under his brother’s just like they had back then.

They shook firmly. And for a moment, Wind felt the knot in his chest loosen.

Everything was going to be okay.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment—then Cap abruptly popped into Wind’s line of sight.
“You’re not having a moment without me, are you?” he demanded, lower lip trembling in the saddest pout imaginable.

Wind and Time burst into laughter, which only deepened Captain’s tragic expression.

“You two are the worst.” Cap dragged a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Anyway, we need to move. Wild, Four, Legend and Twilight went to grab extra supplies or whatever else they think they need, so we’re supposed to meet them outside.”

As he spoke, Wind noticed Hyrule gently waking Sky—the rare person who didn’t get smacked in the face for trying. And just like that, Wind felt it again: the realization that they were about to head off to another completely unknown place. Again.

“Alright, let’s go, Cap,” Time said, flashing their older brother a mischievous smirk.

Wind matched it with an innocent grin, hands tucked behind his back.
“Yeah, Cap. Really gotta hurry.”

Captain squinted at them suspiciously. “Enough, Sprite. Tune. We don’t have time for games.”
He turned on his heel—revealing, across the back of his tunic, the clear imprint of two sandy hands: one large, one small, both still damp.

Wind and Time shared a look, both trying—and failing—not to laugh. They fell into step behind Captain, quietly high-fiving when they were side by side.

They stepped back into the plaza, Sky shuffling sleepily behind them with Hyrule guiding him along.
The village was livelier now: more people out, children playing in the sand and casting curious glances at the strangers walking through.

Wild, Four, Legend and Twilight were already waiting with the supplies. Fisko, Kala, and Aberil stood with them.

“Are we all ready to go, boys?” Time called. Everyone nodded.

Fisko stepped forward. “As you’re already leaving, then farewell, Heroes. We thank you for the mending. May this be the beginning of a strong alliance between our tribes.”
She offered a formal salute. A few of the Links attempted to copy it; others were elbowed into doing it (Ow—Sky!).

Ji“Yes, we are very pleased to meet you, even if it wasn't in the most conventional way,” Aberil said gently, giving a warm, wrinkled smile. “Farewell.”

“Farewell. May your ancestors make the road safe,” Kala added softly.

“Goodbye!” Time and Sky chimed at once, and the rest followed with their own farewells.

They had barely turned toward the exit when Fisko called out—of course—specifically for Wind.

“Wind,” she said, “may you have a successful life, little warrior. You have great strength within you. And know you are always welcome in the Gerudae Tribe.”
It was the first time she’d sounded… normal.

Wind couldn’t help but grin back at her. Some strange fondness hit him square in the chest.
“Bye, Fisko! And thanks—I guess. You’re cooler than I thought!” he said, waving enthusiastically.

The General waved back, a low chuckle rumbling from her chest. The other two Gerudae lifted their hands as well, offering their own quiet goodbyes.

Soon enough, a portal shimmered open before the Chain. As always, each Link reached for their portal-partner, forming their familiar chain of hands. Wind slipped his fingers around Time’s, and Time reached for Captain’s in turn.

Together, they stepped forward and crossed the threshold—
leaving the homeland of the Gerudae behind.

Chapter Text

Violent cold air hit his face.
Everything was white for miles and miles.

It reminded him of Ice Ring Isle and Isle of Frost (a.k.a. the only places he was grateful for that stupid hot tunic).
But this place was way, way colder.

Wind felt the gales winding through the mountains, sweeping over the snowdrifts. Every gust seemed alive, dancing, making anything it touched spark with sharp, biting energy. They howled in his ears—an invitation, playful and wild, calling him to dance with them.

He would’ve accepted in a heartbeat… if his limbs weren’t frozen stiff in protest.

The only warmth he could feel came from Time’s big hand wrapped firmly around his. Wind was grateful he hadn’t let go.

“It’s mine,” Wild said excitedly — far too excited for someone whose brothers were on the verge of freezing to death. “This is the Hebra Mountains.” He checked the map on his slate. “We’re a bit far from Rito Village, the only civilization around. But worry not, brothers! I have potions to keep you from freezing to death. Still, wear your warmest clothes.”

He started distributing bottled liquids that looked like red potions, though they were far too dark to actually be red potions.
Wind just hoped they’d be warm enough.

Suddenly, a heavy cloak fell around his shoulders. Blessed warmth. It hid most of him from the cold, though he was still missing a little heat.
Wind looked up to see Time watching him with terribly hidden concern.

Does he remember the time I got very sick?

“Don't get bedridden this time, please.” Time said, answering his unspoken question.
Wind noticed again how much nicer his big little brother had gotten with age—if it were Mask, he probably would’ve kicked him in the kneecaps to “keep him warm.”

“No worries, Time. I just need to get warm.” Wind smiled up at him reassuringly as he accepted the potion from Wild, who was, of course, already changed into warmer clothes.

“Hey Wind, wear this too. It’ll keep you warm.” The champion handed him some sort of hair accessory shaped like a small wing, decorated with beads. Wind didn’t bother questioning how that was supposed to help with the cold; he had more than enough experience with magical shenanigans.

“But won’t you get cold without it?” Wind asked as he tried—and failed—to put the beads in his hair.

“Nope, I’m good! You need it more than me anyway.” Wild said, giving him a cheerful thumbs-up while helping him fasten the accessory properly.

“Okay, thanks!” Wind said, feeling much better now that he was actually wearing the beads and cloak.

“Come on, guys, this way!” Wild whistled for everyone to follow him. The gales tossed snow into Wind’s face as he tightened his hold on Time’s hand and started after the champion. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Captain returning to them and grabbing Time’s other hand again.

Moving was difficult, but oddly enough Wind felt steadier inside his own body. Stronger. So he pushed forward, forcing his brothers to speed up to keep up with him.

“Hey, sailor! Calm down! We can’t keep up if you run off like that!” Cap shouted—
and the moment the wind carried the words to him, clear as if whispered right beside his ear, Wind froze.

He had never heard the wind so clearly before.

Surprised, he slowed immediately. Legend and Hyrule came up beside them, clinging close to each other for warmth. Both Heroes wore determined expressions and quickened their steps to match Wild’s pace (the bastard had actual snow boots—he didn't bring his iron boots because he’s a total moron, but Wind is absolutely stealing those later).

Zephos, that was the coolest thing ever. Finally something good came out of making that air-jerk vanish from existence.

Wind sped up again, ears pricked, actually trying to listen to the wind this time. Whispers drifted all around him—some cryptic, some downright nonsensical—but one stood out sharply from the rest.

*Friend, be careful…!*

A pause.

*Inside the frost…!*

What the fuck?

Then Wild suddenly stopped. “Everyone, stop right there!”

The Chain immediately froze. Wind searched through the whiteness for anything suspicious, no longer listening to the gales.

Wild drew his bow and aimed a fire arrow at something Wind couldn’t quite make out. He released it, and snow came raining down even harder. Shouts echoed, followed by the metallic clink of weapons being drawn. Wind dropped Time’s hand and pulled out the Mirror Shield and the Phantom Sword.

The only warning he had was a fast blur rushing toward him. He lifted his shield just in time—

Pang!

He staggered back a step, hissing at the impact. Tightening his grip, he swung the sword at the creature — one he was pretty sure was a lizalfos —

It evaded easily and swung a spear at him. Wind only had time to raise his shield again—the spear slammed into it hard. The lizalfos pulled back for another strike, but this time the sailor parried, just like Wild had taught him, and the monster stumbled backward.

Fuck, this coat makes it so much harder to move. And his legs still felt like they weighed a ton.

Wind pricked his ears. Even through the blizzard, the winds carried sounds he normally wouldn’t catch: grunts, shouts, the clang of metal on metal. His brothers were fighting too.
The lizalfos lunged again—

Wind rolled under its legs, feeling the heavy coat drag against the snow, and stabbed his sword into the creature’s back.
Black blood spilled out.

Fucking fantastic.

He twisted his sword roughly, and the monster screeched in pain. Wind kicked it to the ground and kept twisting the Phantom Sword mercilessly, black fluids gurgling out in buckets.

Sharp claws suddenly gripped his leg. He ignored the sting and yanked his sword free, slashing at the creature’s arm until it recoiled. Finally, he cut across its neck, aiming for the vital veins. The lizalfos gurgled, choked on its own blood, then went still.

Wind listened again.
Silence.

He looked around. His brothers had already finished off the rest of the monsters — most of them bled normally, but a few had the same blackened blood.

They all looked tired, but at least mostly unharmed… though Wind caught sight of a nasty cut on Wild’s leg. It was still bleeding.

The blizzard didn’t ease up, but Wind could still make out Twilight rushing to Wild’s side, already working on stopping the bleeding.

“Come on, pup. We need to cut off this bleeding,” the rancher said in a hushed tone—almost the same gentle voice he’d used with Wind last night. The sailor couldn’t help a small smile. Always such a protective wolfie.

“Sprite? Tune?” Captain’s voice cut through the wind. Wind turned and spotted him and Time not far away, both splattered with black blood.

Wind cleaned his sword on the lizalfo’s body quickly, noticing that Time’s cloak had splashes of the cursed blood too. Ew.
He slid the Phantom Sword back into its sheath and strapped his shield securely onto his back, the motions practiced even with shaking hands.

“We’re here.” His big little brother suddenly appeared at his side. Cap appeared right after, checking them over. “Alright. So Wild is injured, so Sky and Legend are the ones leading now, with the champion’s Sheikah Slate.”

Both the sailor and the old man nodded at the same time, then reached for each other's hand. Time grasped Cap’s hand and they continued walking.

Wind could vaguely see the knight’s and vet’s silhouette at the front. Then, more clearly, he could make out Twilight supporting Wild, and Four and Hyrule holding each other’s forearms.

Dammit. He can’t continue for much longer. He will burn his body’s energies and become a burden on the group. Besides, Wild isn’t looking so good.

Wind concentrated on the gales again, despite his mind’s tired complaints.
It took a whole ten minutes (he thinks) to find something remotely alike to what he wanted.

*Safe…*

The sailor looked around, trying to pin-point from where this specific wind came from.

*Safe…!*

There! He was certain that it was coming from that weird bush (I guess?).

“Time!”
The old man looked at him with furrowed brows.
“I think there’s a place we can rest in that direction!” Wind pointed his finger urgently at the bush.

His big little brother arched an eyebrow.
“How do you know that?”

Wind grinned at him.
“The wind told me!”

The old man paused for a moment, then chuckled lowly.
“Alright, sailor.”

Time drew in a breath and announced:
“WIND KNOWS A SAFE PLACE!!”

Everyone turned to them.
Wind also drew in more breath.
“FOLLOW ME IN THAT DIRECTION, THERE IS A PLACE WE CAN REST!”

The sailor didn't wait for an answer as he dragged his brothers toward the bush.

As they passed it, there still seemed to be nothing ahead. Wind pushed himself harder, tuning into the wind and walking faster.

*Safe.*

Then he spotted something dark in the distance. He squinted through the white—still couldn’t make it out.

“It’s a cavern!” Hyrule shouted excitedly, he and Four breaking ahead of them.

Good. Very fucking good.

Wind made one last desperate push forward. His brothers matched his pace—some kind of energy boost washing over the whole Chain.

And then they stumbled inside. Finally.

Now Wind didn’t need the gales to hear his brothers’ groans and complaints.

“Seriously, fuck Hylia! That stupid bitch—” Legend slumped onto the ground, only for an outraged Sky to cut him off.

“Legend, do not insult the Divine! She has done so much for us—”

“Oh please, that cunt only drops us into fucking hellholes—”

“Don’t you DARE—”

“SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTHS OR ELSE MY HEAD WILL FUCKING EXPLODE!!”

Everyone froze, staring with wide eyes as they settled into the cave. Four’s blue eyes blazed with murderous fury, locked onto Legend and Sky. Then, as if nothing happened, he calmly went back to polishing someone's sword and grumbling about how this sword was the work of an amateur.

Both the knight and the veteran shut up immediately—though they still shot each other filthy looks, and Legend continued muttering curses under his breath.

“Well, I guess everyone is pissed off,” Wild said from one corner, leaning against the hard rock with his patched-up leg stretched out. Twilight only threw him an amused look from where he sat beside the champion.

“No shit,” Wind snorted, settling into his newly arranged bedroll on the other side of the cave.

“Alright, I’ll take first watch this time,” Cap said tiredly.

Wind arched an eyebrow. “You're that tired?”

All the Links knew that the first watch was one of the easiest. They all collectively hated the second watch—except Wild, because he’s not normal, though Wind is pretty sure the champion just hides his hatred better than the rest of them.

“Not really. I just want to stay awake a little longer,” Cap replied cryptically.

Wind was too exhausted to pry, so he simply lay back on his bedroll after taking off his gear and pulling the covers over himself.

He fell asleep not long after, snuggling into his big little brother’s cloak and trying to ignore how uncomfortable the beads in his hair were.