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It had been a long while since Spirit had joined the 'chain'. Sure to some, three weeks and a bit (not that he was counting) could be considered a decent amount of time. Enough time for most hylians to have made connections within their company. Enough time to get adjusted.
Though, Link (or Spirit as the others called him) wasn't exactly 'most hylians'.
As much as he denied it, he had gone on a hero-ish journey. To save 'phantom' as the many other links had nicknamed his Zelda. Even if it had been 6 years since. Since he was nearly halfway-thirteen. A child prodigy in physics and engineering, graduating to become a royal engineer.
Then, he had gotten his diploma from phantom. (Along with that letter, that started it all) She freshly thirteen herself and already shouldering a burden no child should bare. Even if it was lessened by Chancellor Cole. Before it came to light he was actually a demon, trying to free Malladus.
The memory of those two weeks still felt like both ice and magma in his vaines. The (quite literally) derailed train ride to the spirit tower, trying to figure out what was up with the spirit tracks dissappearing, watching Zelda being...murdered and her body being snatched to be Malladus' Vessel. And that was only the start.
After killing Malladus and getting Zelda's (Phantom's) body back, he had little want for a social life. For the last six years it had been him, the spirit train, and occasionally (often), Phantom if he had time.
So...Okay, maybe he was avoiding people a bit, but still! He was on a constantly rotating time table as a royal engineer, He barely had time to shower! Let alone attend gatherings and all that other malarkey.
So...when he was dropped into an unexpected portal. Into a raging battle (barely avoiding an attack from a bokoblin might he add) he might have gotten slightly snappy. It's not like it was an unreasonable reaction!
But even though it had been overwhelming at first, he had gotten used to the other Links. The buzzing, boundless energy they had, Or even after a fight, when something more serious emerged, when they would quiet down. When they would sit in silence as the weight of everything anchored them down to the earth, before something small, would set them off all over again.
It was a strange dynamic. The weird brother like kinship he felt with the others, even though he knew he did not share their spirit. The Hero's Spirit. The mark of the triforce absent on his hand. It kept him on his toes, though that wasn't the only stress piled on top of the engineer. The reason for the unlikely time travelling adventure, was seemingly unknown. He had asked once, if anyone knew why they had been gathered. There was no answer. The only leads they had were the black-blooded monsters, Dark Link, and the master sword.
'Hero of the Spirit Tracks' she, the spirit of the holy blade had chimed to him when he held her.
Sky had called her 'Fi'. She was in slumber, from what he had heard from the others and the Chosen himself. He thought it was weird. He could see the glitching hazy figure of the blue sword Spirit dancing around the holy blade, sometimes. An echo, spinning and skating dizzlily. Yet he decided against voicing such aloud.
None of the others could see "ghosts" or spirits (as he prefered to call them) or just...Fi as far as he knew. The one exception could be his predecessor, Wind. Though it seemed only the strongest spirits were visible to him. He couldn't see Fi at all. It made the Engineer think his ability to see spirits was a magical enhancement, granted by an object or place he's been.
Still, even if he trusted all of his brothers more then anything-he didn't want to stick out. He wasn't keeping his spirit sight a secret, but he wasn't going out of his way to tell anyone.
And finally, 'the shadow'. Or better known as dark link...they call him Dink for some reason, it's an inside joke he's not privy to. But within their presence he'll call it (him?) Dink. They all came to the conclusion it was him creating the black blooded monsters.
"Spirit,"
He looked up from the project he was tinkering with at the voice of Sky. The Chosen crossed the warm light of the crackling campfire and sat next to him, holding a fresh hunk of wood and his carving knife.
"What are you working on?"
He asked, as he started to shave away the bark on his new work.
His sail cloth brushing Spirit's arm, where he had rolled up his sleeves.
"It's nothing, really"
he risked a glance back towards the small arrangement of gears and wires he was fiddling with.
"Just an old pocket watch a friend from back home asked me to fix a while back."
He replied, turning the small gold time piece around in his palm. Running his thumb along the swirling engravings. It was old, extremely old. To the point he doubted he would have the parts to replace any components if it was needed, but fortunately, nothing needed replaced, just some cleaning and minor adjustments.
The sky child hummed a small response as he got lost in the clearly familiar motion of carving, slowly but surely shaving the wood away in curls, gradually creating shapes and smaller features. It was a mesmerising caft. And satisfying. The smell of the shavings and sounds of the blade slicing through the wood was soothing, like opening a new book to the sent of fresh ink.
It reminded him of the royal library in the castle back home.
The thought of what he left behind dampened his mood more than he would like to admit
Spirit looked back to the underside of the pocket watch, going back to the mind-consuming task of making sure everything was in its rightful place. Getting lost in the collection of gears and wires. Tweaking this, moving that over there-when he started to feel...cold.
It was noticeable at first. Just his hands at first, like it was spreading out from the watch. Then it became a chilly breeze. Then a full body chill that had him shivering.
He looked up towards tge campfire to see...he was somewhere else. Snow blitzed around and the wind picked at his hair and clothes, it was a bad blizzard. Easily blind cold, everywhere he looked in this street he found himself, there was white-
"ELIZABETH!"
He turned around at the sound of a boys voice. It sounded young, and scared. Like the owner of the voice was lost. And upon closer inspection it seemed he was.
There was a little boy with snow covered aubern hair, wearing a red coat. It stood out from the blanc canvas of the storm around them. Like blood on a clean sheet. He was shivering, teeth chattering audibly as he ran around trying to find this 'Elizabeth' person.
The kid cupped his hands around his mouth, once again calling out with the little lisp children of his age tended to have,
"ELIZABETH! ELIZABETH WHERE ARE YOU?"
his voice got shaky, as did his hands as he clearly tried not to panic. Tears gathered in his eyes as he started to sob.
"Are you lost?"
Spirit asked, finally finding his voice.
Though the boy seemed not to hear, tears freezing on his cheeks.
Furrowing his brow slightly, the Engineer stepped infront of him reaching out to the child in front of him,
"Hey-"
The child suddenly stepped forward. Right THROUGH him.
The pain was blinding but the panic was overwhelming. He looked down at his hands. They were there. He was there. But...he wasn't.
He tried to pick up the snow, but his hand seemed to phase right through. The snow falling. It was just phasing through him. Like he was within the memory of another.
He turned around to look at the boy, who now stood at the mouth of the street that split out into a busy road. He stood alone within the storm. A smudge upon a perfect marble landscape. Completely isolated. Completely alone.
Yet, another smudge then joined him.
This time, a man in a coat of blue and hair of silver, with warm, kind eyes and worn wrinkles. He walked up to the boy, and kneeled down to his level.
"Are you lost young man?"
He asked, in an almost fatherly tone, soft but gravely. It almost reminded Spirit of Time, but a lot older.
The boy with the aubern hair nodded, hugging himself tightly
The storm picked up, cutting of the rest of the conversation from the Engineers ears but he could see the child's sobs ease as the man with the blue coat soothed him.
Until another voice came up behind him,
"-enry, HENRY!"
He turned around to see a young woman with a yellow coat and familiar shade of aubern hair running through the storm.
The boy with the red coat, Henry, he presumed, looked up sharply, his eyes shining impossibly bright as he stumbled towards the girl
"ELIZABETH!"
He called excitedly as she picked him up and squeezed him tightly. They were siblings it seemed, if the resemblance said anything about it.
"Henry-I'm so, SO sorry! I lost track of time at post office."
She said clearly guilty as she gave her little brother another squeeze, before looking up at the man in blue with greatful eyes.
"Thank you so much sir! I hope Henry didn't give you any trouble,"
The elder smiled at her.
"It was no trouble at all, just try to check the clock more in future, eh? Actually-take this,"
He reached into the pocket of his sapphire coat, pulling out a familiar golden pocket watch, placing it gently into the palm of the young girl.
"Oh no-I couldn't possibly-"
The man smiled again, this time a little more wistful.
"I am an old lad, the reaper will soon come for my soul, like all my fathers before me. I have no grandchildren or spouse to look after this when I'm gone. It is greatly precious to me, and I would hate for it to fall into the hands of those who will not care for it. Please, look after it for me?"
Spirit's head started to hurt, spreading out from where the child had walked through him.
Elizabeth adjusted Henry a bit so he wouldn't fall. Before up at the man again studying him for a second searching his warm eyes for a hint of hesitation.
"...may I know your name sir?"
She asked, her voice now shaking. Her eyes slightly sad.
The wrinkles on the old man's face seemed to smooth a little, the heavy snow air-brushing his skin red. He looked slightly younger now. As if something that had been stressing him had gone away.
"It's William, dear."
When Spirit blinked. He was back, looking down at the familiar golden watch in his hands, breathing deeply as he orientated himself. He was still cold and everything still hurt, but the warmth of the fire helped a lot. His ears were buzzing, and he had pins and needles in his hands. He looked up at his brothers, the bickering and banter continuing as if nothing happened. Like only a few seconds had passed.
'What WAS that?' He thought to himself as he quickly sealed the watch back up, hurriedly stashing the time piece and his tools in his bag out of sight.
It felt like he had finally woke up from a long dream.
He looked back up at the raging fire, the buzzing in his ears finally passing, letting the music of the blaze and laughter pull him back to reality.
He looked over to Sky. Still carving.
Wild and four were arguing about how the champion treated his swords. Again.
Wind was exaggeratedly telling a story about one of his adventures on the sea to Legend, Hyrule, and twilight as Warriors watched with what seemed to be exasperation.
And Time was staring off into space for some reason.
It was all so...normal. There was nothing amiss.
So what was that?