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When Twilight first met Time, he knew the older hero was going to die. It was such a simple, small thing. A meeting between-should be strangers, an offered hand, that all too familiar armor and sword, and a silent spark that passed between them that made his wolf instincts flinch back. Away from this man who looked so much like his old mentor, who looked so much like him.
(“How did you die?” the young man asked. “I cannot tell you”, answered the shade, but a terrible melancholy crossed his face, haunted by some phantom pain. “I do not regret my choice. But I do wish it had been… less painful.”)
Time had just smiled, back then, in that quietly knowing way of his. As if he was looking straight through Twilight and back out the other side. As if, in comparison to the timeline, Twilight was so insignificant that he might as well not have been there at all.
It was a moment that Twilight thought about often, especially on late nights such as these, when his only company was the moon. She was full tonight, and shone brightly from her place in the sky, casting pale light on the forest below. He could catch glimpses of her through the curtain of leaves that enshrouded them, a beacon in the night that did nothing for his tumultuous thoughts. How were you supposed to get close to a man who was doomed to die? Who was cursed by the hands of fate, but who felt familiar in ways he couldn’t quite name?
The breeze whispered past, carrying with it the sounds of the forest. He pricked his ears up, listening to the rustling of the leaves and the chittering of nocturnal creatures, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and he let himself relax. Hyrule would be taking over watch in a few minutes, and all things considered, it had been a pretty quiet….
His thoughts trailed off as something brushed against the edge of his perception, and he shot to his feet, listening. Unconsciously, his hand started to move towards the crystal around his neck and the better hearing that form would offer - but no, transforming here would likely do more harm than good. He turned his gaze towards the heavy darkness of the forest ahead, scanning it for any sounds or threats to his brothers, who slept soundly behind him.
“... ne…”
There it was again, louder this time. He spun, sword already at the ready, searching in every direction for where it was. A group of enemies, planning an ambush in the dark? A spellcaster of some kind, readying a terrible curse for the unaware group? He gritted his teeth in frustration when there was still nothing, even to his keen senses. He’d have to wake up the group in a moment --
…. The group. He turned around, wide-eyed, listening in a way he hadn’t thought to before. And there - from within the cluster of bodies, he heard it again. A murmur in the dark.
“1209600.”
Twilight stepped forward, a chill shooting through him at the soft, methodical voice.
“1209599.”
His hand went limp around his sword, and it fell to the ground with a thump, muffled by the underbrush.
“1209598.”
They were… seconds. A countdown. And though Twilight couldn’t make out who was speaking, well, to say he really didn’t know would mean lying to himself.
“1209597.”
He slumped to the ground in the darkness and looked up at the moon, ethereal and ever distant. Listening to the evenly spaced whispers, he could almost picture one blue eye staring up at the same moon he was… but seeing something entirely different.
“1209596.”
And every night after that, he would wake to hear Time counting in the dark.
-
They had hoped that once night fell, the enemies would fall back to regroup, giving them a chance to get some much needed rest. In hindsight, that was a foolish hope. All it had done was brought a different variety of enemies to the field. Whether the pitch surrounding them was from the uncommonly thick darkness, or from the rivers of black blood that flowed all around them, Twilight couldn’t be sure anymore. It dripped from every exposed part of his body in a slow, viscous crawl. As if it was determined to weigh him down, to stick forever, always a gruesome reminder staining his clothing. He didn't need its help for that, these days, though: in the two weeks since he first heard Time counting, anxiety had been consuming him.
His hands almost slipped on the hilt of his sword, it was so slick with blood. He was choking on it, drowning in this horde that never seemed to end. He’d been separated from the others some immeasurable amount of time ago, and each attack since then had seemed to hit him twofold. He stumbled over the head of a ReDead, his ears ringing with the crash and shriek of battle, the screams of Poes hidden in the trees, the shouts of his brothers hidden somewhere in the dark.
Two Moblins pressed him backwards against the trees, and he fell back into his fighting stance with more confidence than he actually felt. There was something wrong with them - they seemed more feral than normal, and their features twisted unnaturally, dripping with dark blood. The first one rushed at him, and he sidestepped it, letting it ram into a tree before stabbing through the back of its head and pinning it to the tree. It writhed and clawed at the bark, and out of the corner of his eye, Twilight saw the other Moblin running towards him with arms outstretched, mouth open in a ghastly mirror of a scream.
He glanced back at the pinned one. It was still alive - because of course it is, he sighed inwardly. Hylia damn these black-blooded beasts. He had to keep his sword stuck there or he would be assaulted on both sides. Dark magic swirled around him as he started to transform into the best weapon he had left --
The Moblin slammed into him, and the world spun. The breath was knocked out of him, and he struggled to breathe as the creature bit down on him, sharp teeth flashing. Red blood mixed with black, and Twilight snarled, struggling to shake it off and get his bearings.
Metal flashed in his peripheral vision, and an armored figure crashed through the ragged bushes. Seconds later, a sword slid through the Moblin, splitting it from top to bottom and splattering his fur with innards.
Exhausted, Twilight transformed back into a Hylian and gratefully took the gauntleted hand that offered to help him up. Blinking the gunk from his eyes, he stared up into Time’s face, trying to catch his breath.
“We’ve been fighting for hours,” He said. “Have you seen an end to them?”
The old man shook his head. “We made a mistake. They committed everything to this assault, and we can’t keep going like this. We have to find the others and fall back.”
Twilight nodded, relieved. “I don’t know where the others went.” He paused, pulling his blade from the head of the Moblin with a grunt. “But Time, it’s chaos out here - what if…”
“It’s not their time yet.” Time replied, looking away to scan the forest for any signs of the other heroes. He didn’t offer anything else in the way of an explanation, but the phantom memory of a countdown rang in Twilight’s ears all the same.
He felt terribly drained as he hefted his sword again and tried to stand tall. Time wasn’t paying attention, and as he watched, a shadow fell over the old man. A cloud, most likely, blotting out what remained of the moon’s light. But as he watched, fingers took shape, long and crooked, stretching over Time’s body and across the bloodied grass.
“Time!” He shouted in warning, and his voice seemed terribly sluggish to even his own ears. Time turned, eyes alert, already scanning for the danger -- too slowly. The seconds seemed to stretch as the Wallmaster tensed, preparing to strike, and again Twilight saw phantom numbers. Would this be how Time died? Would it be his fault, for not being strong enough, for not saving his predecessor in time?
With a burst of strength he didn’t realize he still had in him, Twilight lunged forward and shoved Time out of the way. The momentum was just enough to push the armored man out of the way of the falling shadow, and Twilight barely had time to register the shock in his eyes before he was slammed into the ground. Something snapped in his chest, and he let out a strangled cough. His head smacked the ground painfully as he was pinned, right next to a disemboweled Gibdo whose lifeless eyes bored into his own.
In an instant, Time was there, pulling the Wallmaster off him with a grunt. It tried to cling to his body, fingers clutching him so tightly that stars danced in his vision, but finally, it came free and was unceremoniously killed. “Are you alright?” Time asked, the steadiness of his voice betrayed by the anxiety in his eyes.
Twilight hacked up a cough that burned his chest, clutching at his ribs, but nodded. “‘s alright. I’ll be fine. Ran out of red potions a while ago, though, so I think I’ll have to just walk this one off…”
Time caught his arm as he attempted, unsuccessfully, to stand up again. “You’re not walking anywhere. Come on, this area should be pretty clear by now, I’ll get you to --”
He cut off abruptly as in the distance, the sky lit up. A huge pillar of fire towered above the trees, illuminating in a brief flash a cloud of Keese just in time for the majority of them to get burnt to pieces. The fire vanished as quickly as it had appeared, wisping back into the darkness. Time and Twilight shared a look - but before they could say anything else, the air burst alight with screams and the calls of monsters. The ground practically shook with their stampede as countless shadows moving in the dark rushed towards that beacon.
“Oh, Hylia.” Twilight whispered. “That has to be…”
Time stood up. “I’m going to follow them.”
“No, you can’t!” Twilight replied, not having the energy to be ashamed of the way his voice cracked. “Did you see how many monsters were headed that way? You're out of fairies and potions and I can tell you're exhausted. Time, it’s- it’s a suicide mission.”
“I would be as good as killing them if I left them there alone.”
Twilight’s stomach dropped. “There has to be another way. I can go, you’re too important.”
“What makes any one of us ‘more important’ than another? There’s no such thing. Pup, you can barely stand.” His voice left no room for argument as he picked up his sword again.
“No --”
“Six hundred.” Time whispered, and Twilight could do nothing but shake his head in denial. Time kneeled next to him, and he somehow wore a soft smile. He reached out a gauntleted hand and wiped a tear off of Twilight’s face, the sensation of cold metal against skin strangely comforting him.
“No…” Twilight repeated, but his voice wavered and he knew in his heart that he’d lost. “What… what will we tell Malon?”
Sorrow flashed across Time’s face. “She already knows.”
He stood up, his armor glinting, and Twilight could do nothing but let him walk away. “Wait,” He called when Time’s form was almost nothing but a wisp in the woods, a congelation of shadows. Through blurry eyes he saw Time pause, and turn his head. “Will… are… aren’t you afraid that it will hurt?” He asked at last, the words of a man staring up at a skeleton and wondering why coming from his mouth now.
“No.” He heard Time reply, at last. “I have never been afraid of pain. Only.. of the pain it would cause all for you. Please… take care of yourself for me, pup.”
He vanished into the forest, and Twilight’s ribs ached from the sobs that wracked his body uncontrollably. He could do nothing but sit in the sudden hush and continue counting down.
300.
What could he do, against the great hand of fate?
200.
He had failed. Hylia, but he had failed.
100.
In the distance, the force of an explosion rattled the trees.
5…
4…
3…
2…
1.
Alone in the forest, Twilight clutched at his chest and cried.