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Link, already stressed out from all the chaos and planning that came around this time of year, could not help the ‘tired dadtm’ expression that sat on his features. Some hooligans who claimed to be Hylia’s Heroes were causing a ruckus along the market road. Well, who better to teach them a lesson than one of Hylia’s Chosen himself?
Even though the war had been over and won for nearly 40 years, Link felt a sense of obligation to investigate each and every claim of ‘Hylia’s Heroes’ or time-traveling. Though there had never been an ounce of truth to the claims, what if the one time he did not go was the very time something happened? Perhaps the Gate of Time was acting up. Or maybe an individual found a way to return to this timeline on their own?
Expectations on the ground, Link called upon a few of his least-busy knights (who seemed to share in his exasperation). Then, he rode out.
At 63 years of age, Link was under no impression that anyone outside the castle residents thought of him as strong and agile as one his age should be. Well, they were wrong.
Sure, he was past his prime, but he could still keep up with any of the rest of his soldiers. When he wasn’t stuck inside attending to his duties as Prince Consort, he was outside training. Or riding. Or patrolling. Link was not one to simply stand around and let the younger do all the work. He was still a terror of a General when he needed to be. Hence his willingness to shoo off the so-called hooligans messing around in town. Even if his willingness was a little short today. Much was still to be done this week, after all. Various little events and festivals were still in their final workings for the rest of the week, ending with the Grand Ball, where all who could attend were invited to the Queen’s banquet and subsequent dancing.
It had been a very busy time leading up to their celebration week, though to be fair, Link’s daughters and their husbands had taken up much of the planning in recent years. Link was still a very important point person, being the Hero and all. But he passed what he could onto the dukes and nobles. 40 years of balls and festivities were taking their toll. They would have to figure out what to do when he was gone, anyway.
Finally, Link neared the town square, where he spotted eight teenage boys either pouting or looking very put-out near the main fountain, two knights standing over them. Of course these kids had to act up at the very beginning of the week of War’s End, when things were just starting to get stressful.
Link was much too tired for this. But duty called.
He dismounted his mare and made sure to keep his expression stern even as his hip ached from a good fall a few years back. Having the High General of Hyrule’s army come out because you were being an idiot was sure to keep you in line for a while. Especially when he was dressed in his ceremonial armor for the soon-to-be festivities. It was more polished than his usual suit, strung up with all the bells and whistles, showcasing every achievement and rank. He certainly appeared like someone not to be trifled with.
“General.” Iden, one of the knights and Link’s son-in-law, stepped forward. “These are the alleged ‘Heroes.’ They were going about breaking the festival pottery.”
Ah. That was certainly a count of vandalism then.
The week of celebration started with a Pottery Festival. Those who wished to participate made clay pots decorated with the events of the Eras War. With each day of celebration, specific pots were broken when evening came to signify the victory of events as well as the ending of the daily festival. It was his granddaughter’s favorite event of the celebration days. So yes, the pots were meant to be broken, but there was a way to it.
So he nodded his thanks and turned to address the kids himself. “What have you boys to say for yourself?”
Seemingly threatened by the question, two of them jumped up and began defending themselves, one with pink hair and the other a sun-weathered blonde. A few of the others tried to calm back down in response, perhaps not looking to get into any more trouble. Though he did catch a quick ‘aye, they said we could break em’ and an ‘I didn’t know we had to wait,’ in the midst of the commotion.
Link simply stood with his arms crossed until they settled themselves down. Which they quickly did, noting his demeanor.
Kids were more observant than most realized.
But it seemed that Link might not have been so observant anymore, as it wasn’t until the two backed off that he let himself get a better look at the rest of the kids. And an old yet familiar green caught his eye.
Immediately, Link knew it was him. The name burst out from his lips.
“Mask?”
He was older now, nearing the end of his teenage years. His features were sharper; the nose he’d sworn would be one he would grow into stayed a prominent feature on his face. And he stood half behind one of the other boys instead of being one to confront him head-on. Sure, kids tended to mellow out as they aged; his own girls were that way, but dare he say the boy seemed timid? The eyes were… different somehow, less mischievous and more distrusting; years of trouble were etched in his eyes.
“Mask, it’s me. The Captain.”
Instead of reacting to the name, the teen tensed up due to all the attention now on him. Then, he grew closer to the boy in front of him.
Link paused, another gear turning in his head. This boy was familiar as well for some reason. Sun-tanned. The smell of salt. The defensiveness. It clicked. Goodness, his boys had grown, though not as much as he would ever have thought after 40 years. Time travel was quite confusing, after all.
“Tune.”
“You’re the Captain?” The Sailor sneered. “Aye, his grandfather, maybe.” Yes, and the sarcasm.
“The noodle incident.” Link’s brain offered quickly before he could stop it.
Tune’s jaw dropped. So did his defensive stance. The remaining boys were confused.
So, their claim of being Heroes was true…
It must’ve been very odd, he supposed. He was technically the outlier Hero in terms of age during the War, being in his early 20s while Tune and Mask hadn’t even hit their teens; this was a bit much. The youngest of this new group could not be any older than 13, with a mop of brown hair and a spattering of freckles. The oldest had to either be Mask, or a young man with a fur pelt over his shoulders.
Did this mean another war was brewing? Some villain that was soon to threaten their borders? Something so catastrophic that nine Heroes were necessary?
Well, not too terrible, he supposed, if half of them had yet to hit a growth spurt. He could only hope that they were the extent of the numbers that he would be receiving; no estranged girlfriends and creepy sword people. And to pray that the many years of rebuilding were not going to come crashing down. He was much too old to deal with all that once again.
“Iden. Report to the Queen that 8 Heroes have arrived. Although do not mention the vandalism if you can help it.” Link shot a look at the boys, especially the two he knew. “We’ll have to sort that out another time.”
His son-in-law nodded, “Yes sir. Right away, sir.”
“Well boys, it seems we have much to discuss.” He stepped closer to them. “But first I believe we-”
Whatever else he had to say was stolen away by a sudden surge of magic that made him feel as though the very blood in his veins froze. He had not felt this much magic since… ever, really.
A golden circle appeared around them, glowing brightly and intensely. It instantly made his head hurt, and his mind spin. Every injury he remembered he’d received (which was a lot) lit up like a fierce ache, focusing most on his scarred arm and never-quite-healed hip. The fact that he still stood was a miracle in itself. Link groaned at the sudden attack on his senses. The boys reacted much the same.
One bit out, “Get used to it, Old Man.” The pink-haired one? He couldn’t quite tell. It sounded muffled and far.
Then, the world fell away.
And for the first time, Link himself -High General of Hyrule, Prince Consort, this generation’s Hero- Was pulled into a portal and whisked away throughout time.