Chapter Text
Oma's POV
Oma was very worried.
As she and Aryll were walking down the shore on their way back from the merchant, she noticed one of Hylia’s blessed portals—the kind that brought her grandson to Outset Island every few months.
This time, however, the portal had opened far out over the ocean.
And though she knew Link was a strong swimmer—he had to be, given his chosen career—even he would struggle to cross such a distance, sometimes against the currents. Worse still, he wasn’t alone. From what little she knew of his companions, none of those young men seemed particularly accustomed to the sea. Surely the goddess wouldn’t strand them in the middle of the ocean, close enough to see the island yet too far to reach it?
Even as the thought crossed her mind, several shapes dropped from the glowing rift.
“Grandma? Are you okay?”
“Aryll, child, I need you to run back to the merchant house and ask him to send a boat out, quickly. Your brother and his friends are in danger of drowning.”
Her granddaughter—bless her heart—did not question her further and took off running.
There wasn’t much else Oma could do from where she stood. Then, on the horizon, she caught sight of something peculiar: faint lights, and—were those logs? Yes, logs were forming around her grandson and his friends. Thank the goddess.
It didn’t solve the problem, but at least they might hold on until help arrived.
Then she noticed movement—something cutting through the waves toward shore. One of them must be swimming for land. Was it Link? No… the figure was too large to be her grandson. As it drew closer, she realized with a start that it was indeed Link—but he wasn’t swimming. He was holding onto the back of another young man, one who swam faster than any Hylian she had ever seen.
So she urged her old bones to hurry toward the beach, determined to help however she could.
By the time she reached the sand, her Link was already there—half-clothed, dripping wet, and in the process of pulling on some kind of skintight, fish-like armor. Surely he didn’t mean to go back out there.
She didn’t recognize the young man beside him, but introductions could wait. Before she could speak, the stranger—were those gills?!?—materialized, quite literally out of thin air, a strange fish-shaped skewer that he handed to her grandson.
“Here,” the boy said briskly, “this should help too. Between the Zora armor and the skewer, you’ll swim three times faster than normal. It won’t last forever, but it’s better than nothing. I’m going for Hyrule—you focus on Four. They’re in the worst shape, and Four will be easier for you to manage.”
Link had already started eating, speaking around his mouthful. “’Kay, Wild, I’ll be right behind you!”
“Link! You can’t go back!”
Her cry made him turn toward her, guilt flashing across his face.
“Grandma! I’m sorry—I need to!”
Though with his mouth still full, it came out closer to, “Gnma! M’sowwy, ndto!”
But she’d raised that boy; she knew exactly what he meant.
“No, Link, you—”
She didn’t have time to finish before he dove back into the water, cutting through the waves faster than she’d ever seen him swim—and still, somehow, slower than that Wild boy.
Had his party truly found some sort of fish-hybrid version of her grandson?
She could only watch helplessly as her little Link and his new friend ferried two of their companions toward the shore. Even then, while Link was still swimming back with the one called Four, the other boy—Wild—had already returned to fetch another of their group.
Despite her worry, Oma did what she could. She helped the drenched young man called Hyrule cough up seawater, murmured reassurances, and, once he seemed steady, started home to prepare a good, hearty soup to warm them all. It appeared they truly intended to swim back and forth until every member of their “Chain,” as they called themselves, was safe.
She almost missed the moment Link, after his second round of rescues—this time carrying the one named Warriors—collapsed onto the sand, exhausted beyond measure. But Oma trusted the brothers he spoke so fondly of to tend to him, just as he had cared for them.
POV: Wind — Earlier That Day
“And then swoosh! Just like that, I had the moblin in pieces—without even drawing my sword!”
Wind was in his element. Pirates, after all, were great storytellers—and he was one of the best, if he did say so himself.
Wild obviously agreed, smiling at him. “That is impressive. I like experimenting with battle tactics too.”
Wind nodded sagely. “Well, yeah. You ought to! You’ve got such an arsenal—it’d be a shame not to try new things.”
“Want to hear an interesting one?” Wild asked, eyes glinting.
Warriors’ voice cut in immediately. “Don’t go giving him ideas now, Wild. He’s already enough of a handful as it is.”
“Hey!” Wind protested.
“Really, Warriors,” Wild countered mildly, “Wind is just as he should be for a fourteen-year-old hero. Besides, it’ll be educational.”
“See?” Wind said triumphantly. “Wild understands me.”
Twilight snickered. “You do realize, Windboy, that Wild’s only ever known two fourteen-year-old heroes—himself and you. And he doesn’t remember much of himself at that age.”
That earned a thoughtful silence as they all paused mid-cleanup to consider it. Then, almost in unison, they started chuckling—everyone except Wind, who crossed his arms and pouted.
Wild broke the laughter with calm amusement. “So, you still want to hear that story?”
The sailor perked right up. “Sure!”
“So,” Wild began, “you know those big skull-like monster camps back home?”
They all nodded.
“Well, I’ve got a pretty much unlimited supply of bombs thanks to my Sheikah Slate. If I’m careful and position myself just right above one of those camps, I can roll a bomb right inside. The bokos and moblins either gather around it to investigate or, if they’re a bit higher up the food chain, they kick it aside. Either way, they all have to crowd near it. At that point…” He trailed off, grinning mischievously.
“You set it off?” Twilight guessed.
“I set it off,” Wild said cheerfully. “If I’m lucky, they’ve got explosive barrels inside and it wipes out half the camp right away. If not, they’re still injured—and I just drop another one. And do you know what they do?”
Warriors groaned. “You can’t mean—surely even they aren’t that stupid?”
“Oh, they are,” Wild said with unholy glee. “I’ve cleared entire camps that way—just dropping bomb after bomb for about ten minutes and not lifting a finger.”
Silence fell as the Chain processed that level of idiocy. Then one by one, they started laughing—first a few chuckles, then full-on howls.
And that, of course, was when Hylia chose to open a portal.
Right under Warriors’ feet.
“What the—”
“Wars!”
“Here we go again!”
“Do we have to?”
Time nodded grimly. “Yes, and fast. She’s already dropped us right into battle before—we can’t leave Warriors alone too long.”
And just like that, they all jumped in after him—only to plunge, one after another, straight into what looked like the ocean.
Wind recognized the place immediately, and that worried him. Even on a good day, he’d have trouble swimming to shore from this distance. Now they were scattered, panicked, and—
Damn it, Four was going under!
He was just about to dive for the smith when Wild surfaced nearby, gills flickering at the base of his neck as he held Four securely by the waist. Wild jerked his chin toward Hyrule, silently telling Wind to help him instead.
Which he did, kicking hard through the waves toward the wanderer who just wasn’t that used to large bodies of water. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Warriors and Legend struggling to keep Time afloat—his armor was dragging him under fast.
“What—” Twilight started, before choking on seawater and spitting it out. “What the fuck! How are we supposed to get to land? Goddess, do you want us dead?”
“Don’t say that!” Sky gasped, barely keeping his head above the surface. Swimming had never been his strong suit. “You know she doesn’t always control where we end up!”
“Right, well—”
“Now’s not the time,” Wild cut in sharply. “Twilight, take Four from me. I’ve got some logs stored in the Slate—they’ll help keep us afloat until we figure something out.”
“Good idea, Champion. Come on, little one.”
Thank the goddess for Wild—at least now they all had some form of support.
Really, as much as Wind loved his brothers, and despite all the teasing about his sailor background, the truth was that most of them had never needed to learn to swim—and those who had weren’t exactly good at it. Right now, the youngest of them all was also their best bet for survival.
So he turned to Wild. Maybe the Champion would have an idea.
“Any idea?”
“Maybe. I could just go back and forth carrying everyone, but it’d take time. Even if I start with Four—who’s barely holding onto consciousness—who knows what might happen before I finish?”
The chimera trailed off, looking Wind up and down, clearly sizing him up for something.
“Here’s my plan,” he said finally. “I’ll take Wind with me to shore, and—”
Wild had to raise his voice over the immediate protests as the others all tried to insist he save the weakest first.
“And, once we’re there, I’ll give him something to boost his swimming. After that, he’ll help me bring the others back. He won’t be as fast as I am, but it’ll still be faster than if I did everything alone.”
Time immediately nodded. “It’s a good plan. Better to have some backup in any case. Go. We’ll hold out until you get back for us.”
Wind quickly climbed onto his brother’s back. Even on his best day, with all the currents at his back, he’d never have managed to cut through the sea as fast as they did then. In no time at all, they reached dry land, and Wild was already handing him some blue, skintight armor.
He started pulling it on, deciding he’d ask questions later—when time wasn’t running against them. He also accepted some kind of fish skewer just as his grandma came running toward them.
He hated worrying her like this, but there was no choice. He left her on the beach and dove back into the waves, following after Wild, who had already gone ahead.
Once there, he found Four—the smith—barely conscious. Apparently Wild had left him for Wind to handle, knowing the smaller boy would be lighter and easier to carry. It was a smart call; Wind would tire less quickly that way.
Even so, it took him twice as long as Wild to get back ashore with his brother. Hyrule immediately took over tending to Four, while Wind turned right around and headed back out again, lungs burning.
By the time he reached Warriors and dragged him to dry land, his breath came in ragged gasps. He knew he didn’t have another back-and-forth in him, even as Wild brought Sky safely in and turned right around to go back for Time.
He noticed then that Legend and Twilight had started swimming toward them, supporting Time between them. When the Champion reached them and took their leader from their grasp, the two continued to follow, much slower than even Wind himself.
In the end, it took Wild half the time to bring in the rest of the Chain as it had the first few rescues. By then, even their indefatigable cook looked winded—though Wind suspected it was more from the adrenaline drop than true exhaustion.
Of course, the minute Wild arrived with Legend—the last to be saved—Wind spotted Beedle’s boat approaching, Aryll standing proudly at the bow.
Aww, his little sister had come to save them!
Back With Oma
By the time Beedle arrived with his boat, all of them had somehow reached the shore. Link had saved both Four and Warriors; Wild, the rest. Regardless, Oma thanked the young merchant profusely, especially since he’d also brought Aryll back with him. True to his humble nature, he brushed it off, insisting she think nothing of it. Still, she invited him to share their dinner as thanks.
And that was how Oma found herself surrounded by a collection of young men slurping pumpkin soup, most of them still shivering despite the hearth’s warmth.
When her Link finally seemed to have eaten his fill and regained some strength, she turned to him.
“So, Link,” she said with a smile, “will you introduce us to your new friend?”
Aryll nodded eagerly. “Yes, brother! Who’s that? How come he can swim so fast? And what are you wearing?”
Link chuckled, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly even as he pulled his sister into a hug. “Slow down, squirt, I’ll tell you. Grandma, this is Wild—our newest brother. Wild, these are my grandma and my little sister, Aryll.”
“Hum, nice to meet you,” Wild said, his voice low and slightly rough as he bowed politely.
Oma noted that the gills she’d glimpsed earlier were gone now, and when Wild looked at Aryll, there was something in his eyes—a flicker of recognition, tinged with sadness. She wondered who the girl reminded him of, and why such a young man could look so old for a moment.
“Grandma!” Link burst out again before she could ask. “Wild is awesome! His pumpkin soup is almost as good as yours, and he’s so strong! And better yet—he’s only seventeen! Isn’t that great? I’m still the youngest, but not by as much!”
But Aryll interrupted before Oma could respond. “Brooother, what are you wearing?”
“Right, it’s Wild’s,” Link said, tugging at the scaled fabric. “You know those legends about the Zora being the Rito’s ancestors? Well, in Wild’s Hyrule, they’re still around—and he’s friends with them. They gave him this armor. It lets you swim faster! It’s awesome, isn’t it?”
And it was—if only because it had helped prevent a tragedy that day.
As the night went on, Oma noticed Wild deep in conversation with Beedle. When she approached to offer them some hot chocolate, she happened to overhear a snippet.
“…and you say this bladed rhino beetle can be used in an elixir to help your attack? But it’s so cute! Who would want to eat it?”
“Don’t look at me like that,” Wild replied with good humor. “That’s just why most people hunt them. I usually stick to proper meals for my buffs, but I often trade the elixirs with the Beedle from my world—he really likes them.”
“As he should!” Beedle exclaimed.
Oma shook her head slowly. Were they seriously discussing insects? This Wild young man truly wore his nickname well, it seemed.
In the end, the evening “party” didn’t last all that long. Her grandsons—because if her Link called them brothers, then they were hers just as much as he was—were worn out from their adventurous arrival, and she soon shooed them all into the main room where they laid out their sleeping gear.
Unfortunately, their little home had never been meant to host so many at once, but she left them to sort it out as she bid Biddle goodnight.
Tomorrow would be soon enough to ponder the Goddess’s peculiar sense of humor.
The next day, Oma awoke to a delicious smell wafting through the house. Whatever it was, it called directly to her stomach.
She got up, took her shower, changed into clean clothes, and quietly stepped outside, careful not to wake the young men still asleep.
On the doorstep sat Wild, crouched beside some kind of portable cooking pot, focused and humming softly to himself.
“Oh my,” she said with a smile, “it’s good to know you finally have at least one cook in your group. I’ve been worrying myself sick over Link.”
Wild looked up and gave her that mischievous smile he seemed to wear so easily. “Hmm, well, according to Time, he knows how to cook very well—been doing so for quite a while, actually.”
Before she could give a suitably incredulous reply, he handed her a plate. “Crab oatmeal?”
She accepted it automatically. It looked—and smelled—wonderful. “You didn’t have to go to all that trouble. I would have made you boys breakfast.”
He only shrugged, that same easy smile lingering. “Force of habit, I guess.”
From the table nearby, Link finally looked up from where he was sitting between Time and Twilight, cheeks full. “Grandma! Good morning! You should try that—it’s awesome! You’ve got to get the recipe from Wild. You could probably make it even better!”
That boy always knew how to make her blush. To distract herself, she took a spoonful of the meal—and immediately hummed in delight. It was delicious.
“Oh my,” she said after another bite, “Link is right. This is very good.”
She caught sight of Wild’s faint blush and smiled, somehow knowing it was a very rare occurrence for him. “If you don’t mind sharing, I would indeed like the recipe.”
He just shrugged, saying, “Sure.”
Just then, Aryll came bursting out the door. “Grandma! What’s that smell? It smells sooo good!”
“Aryll, dear, Wild made us breakfast. Here, take a seat.”
“Really?! I thought boys didn’t cook! Link is rubbish at it!”
Her grandson’s outraged cry came immediately. “Oy!”
The rest of his brothers—new addition included—burst out laughing.
“Here, Aryll, try some,” Oma said, helping her at the table. “Also, one does not need to be a woman to cook well. But,” she added, glancing at Link with mock seriousness, “you’re also right—your brother is not gifted in this area.”
As expected, Link’s indignation only grew, while the laughter around him doubled.
“Grandma!” he protested.
“What is happening?”
The new voice drew her attention. Oh my—apparently the laughter had awakened the rest of them. Sky and Legend emerged from the house, bleary-eyed but smiling, and made a beeline for the plates Wild was serving.
It was only then that she noticed Aryll had already been given one—and was enthusiastically eating every bite.
They spent about an hour in that cheerful atmosphere before Time, as he usually did, turned to her and asked, “Has there been any monster activity nearby?”
She nodded thoughtfully. “We had word from Horseshoe Island of some strange monsters coming from the sea—creatures never seen before. They have prehensile tongues and can shoot water at a distance.”
“Sounds like Lizalfos,” Wild said, frowning slightly. “Are there those here, Wind?”
But her grandson was already shaking his head. “No, there’s never been.”
“Huh?”
“Well…” Wild’s mischievous smile reappeared. “You have a boat, right?”
Link nodded. “If you can get me close without them seeing us, I’ve got a mask that’ll let me look like them. I could take them by surprise, directly in the water.”
“Really? Wicked!”
But Time interjected, firm as ever. “Calm down, kids. We don’t know how many there are. Maybe we should gather more intel before making plans.”
“You’re no fun, old timer,” Wild teased.
“I’m with the old man,” Warriors added, smirking. “Even if Wild’s idea does sound interesting.”
“Mou, say, Wild—can I see your mask? Usually, Time’s the one with a lot of those.”
“Sure. But the mask isn’t all, you know. Here, let me show you.”
With that, the young man took hold of a small tablet she’d noticed hanging at his waist. He tapped it a few times, and a moment later, a mask materialized directly over his head. He shifted his stance, posture subtly different, and began making strange, throaty noises as he tilted his head—like a curious cat testing a new sound.
“Wow, you even act like them!” Wind exclaimed, half in awe, half in delight.
Oma could only shake her head at their shenanigans.
Later that day, as she and Aryll stood by the shore to wave them goodbye, she couldn’t help but feel a quiet happiness settle in her chest. This Wild boy would surely bring more chaos into her grandson’s life—but also, she suspected, a great deal of joy, in what could sometimes be a very hard life. As the waves lapped gently against the dock, she offered a quiet thanks to Hylia — for whatever twist of fate had sent this Wild boy their way.