Archive of Our Own

“No, no wait! Let me guess the next one—!” Wind interrupted, scrambling to snatch the pamphlet out of Warriors’s hands. The man in question just laughed, fangs glinting in the streetlights as he held the leaflet above his head.

“You have not guessed a single question right, what makes you think this will be any different?”

“I'm not guessing! I know for a fact griffins can live in apartment buildings!” Wind insisted, counting down the reasons on his fingers. “They’re only about the size of cats—”

“Why can’t we just get a cat then? Instead of some rat with wings?!”

“They can build a nest out of all the hair Wolfie leaves around the house— and they can hunt those weird little lutins or boggarts or whatever they’re called that keep getting in! Most of the third floors are above the minimum elevation requirement thingamajig, literally every building around here is over like, what, eight meters tall?”

“The maximum averages around twelve specifically, yes—”

“Why do you even know that off the top of your head?” Wind demanded, hands on his hips as he glared up at the captain.

“Do you know how many buildings I have had to drag Sky off of? I know the height of every single skyscraper in this town by heart...Or what’s left of it.” Warriors tried to joke. Wind didn’t laugh.

The mention of the Skyloftain slowed the conversation. Wind’s eyes drifted to the unseen threads ahead of them. Five soulmate strings led them out of the alley. He had to remind himself to stop looking for Warriors’s thread. Wind had treaded with light feet his whole life, dodging soul strands left and right in crowded places. It was weird, touching cords that weren’t his own. It was weirder still that people had soul strings for people that weren’t their brothers— but maybe he was just biased.

Wind was careful not to step on them. Apparently no one else could touch soulmate threads that weren’t their own— Wind himself was just a lucky exception. It was still weird to walk through one. Feeling an emotion, or even pain, that wasn’t his was always weird. He’d grown used to avoiding it out of habit, but he still recognized when Legend's aches were flaring up more than usual based on the twist in the lines. He could tell how far along Twilight was in transforming based on how thick the cord attached to his ankle was.

All the soul strings in front of him now were riddled with tangles as Wind stepped around each of them with no idea what kind of pain he could feel on the other side. A selfish part of him didn’t want to know. The logical part reminded him that if they were going through something terrible he couldn’t help from here anyway.

Warriors stuffed the griffin pet care guide back in his pocket. Wind could hear his shoes scuff on the concrete as he kicked a pebble, not even knowing he’d just stepped through Legend's knotted string. He made the mistake of glancing in the store front window to find himself alone. Warriors’s shadow didn’t join him on the pavement.

“They’re all going to be fine,” Warriors assured him. “You know that, right?”

“Course’ I do,” Wind mumbled. “Legend’s probably scarred them for life by now.”

“Well, it would be best to rescue the poor souls,” Warriors agreed with a dramatic sigh, more for Wind’s benefit than his own. “Hylia knows they’ll probably be begging us to take him back the second we get there.”

“If Wild hasn’t burned the place down first.” Wind retaliated instantly.

“Yes, only if Wild hasn’t burned the place down first.” Warriors confirmed.

They walked in silence for a few more heartbeats. Well Wind does, since Warriors doesn’t have a heartbeat anymore. Wind’s chest is pounding enough for the both of them, adrenaline making his palms sweaty. The landmark for the rendezvous loomed in the distance before them, even with the darkness the streetlights couldn’t penetrate.

The metal hinges of the chain suspending the sign above their heads squeaked in some unknown gust as the night air whistled past them down the alleyway. Wind glanced back to Warriors, trying not to stare at his boots. None of his own apprehension was reflected on his brother’s face. Warriors was smiling, a hint of fang poking through his mouth.

“What?” Wind found himself asking before he could stop himself.

“Nothing,” Warriors deflected, stepping over Wind’s attempt to kick at his ankles. “I guess I just… missed you, is all.”

“How can you miss me?” Wind scoffed. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“It’s just… When it’s like this I can pretend it never happened.” Warriors laughed bitterly, hand ghosting the puncture marks on his neck, before abandoning the motion to tug up his scarf. As if a chilly breeze had just pushed it out of place. “It’s stupid but I miss pulling Sky off of roofs in the middle of the day. I miss spending all afternoon trying to find whatever ancient or cursed trinkets Legend put on his grocery list. I miss chasing Time through the store cause he found something Malon would like. I miss being able to taste Wild’s cooking. I miss you dragging us to the beach whenever you were bored and shoving Twilight in the water so he would smell like a wet dog for the rest of the day.”

“...Well Legend is going to need a good beach day after this… So we’ll just go at night this time! We can see the stars better that way.”

“Really?” Warriors laughed. It sounded a bit warmer this time.

“Yeah, less light pollution and all that shit. Sky will probably find some kind of pier to jump off of. Time loves fishing, we’ll just make him use pumpkin soup as bait and neither of them will be able to tell the difference. Maybe Wild can freeze some of that O negative you’ve got in the back of the fridge and make some kind of popsicle.”

“I guess if anyone could make a diet of one ingredient bearable it would be Wild,” Warriors wheezed as he tried to stop laughing.

“Twilight will probably spend the whole time howling, though. When is the next full moon?” Wind asked as Warriors tried to school his expression into something more serious.

“It’s a waning gibbous now, so he probably won’t be able to fully transform for another week or so.”

Wind glared up at the sky like it had personally wronged him. “Just our luck.”

“With any luck Twilight won’t need to lift a finger. This window is the only opportunity we have so it’s the best we’re going to get—speaking of which…”

Wind yelped as a hand landed on his shoulder from behind. Hyrule giggled even as he held a finger over his mouth, trying to shush Wind’s indignant sputtering. A conspicuous bag was held in his other hand, the contents inside clanging together at the slightest movement.

“That is so not fair—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t resist—” Hyrule defended through his snickering.

“You all have better hearing than me, it’s not fair I’m the only one you can sneak up on—!”

“You’ve got to quit making it so easy,” Hyrule hummed in response, effortlessly ducking around Wind’s attempts to swat at him. It was Wind’s turn to cackle when Hyrule squeaked as Warriors poked the back of his neck.

“I keep forgetting you’re so cold now—”

“I haven’t,” Warriors said with a grin, seizing his chance to take the sack from Hyrule, whose smile dropped in an instant.

“You don’t need to test them, I already did.”

“Better to be sure,” Warriors responded as casually as he could before sticking his hand into the bag. Wind winced as Warriors hissed through his teeth, pulling out his singed finger tips.

Hyrule glared, pulling Warrior’s palms into his own. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Warriors only shrugged. “I just wanted to be certain the iron was pure enough.”

“If it worked on me, it’ll work on her.” Hyrule insisted.

“Any kind of metal works on fairies though, right?” The dreary alleyway filled with light for a brief moment as the injury glowed and disappeared with a flash. “This has to work. It’s the only chance we have.”

“We’ve wasted enough time,” Wind interrupted, looking at the sliver of the moon climbing higher above them. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That eager to chain me up, huh?” Hyrule teased as Warriors handed over the satchel.

“Maybe it’ll make you stay in one place for more than a few seconds for once,” Wind retorted as Hyrule laid out his arms, leather bracers secured all the way to his elbows. Wind fiddled with the bonds for longer than he should have, but it’s not like Warriors or Hyrule could secure the handcuffs themselves. Hyrule spun as soon as the chains were secured, jangling around his wrists like some new piece of jewelry.

“Loose enough?” Warriors asked as Hyrule nodded, marching ahead of them down the street. Wind flinched as a blur of movement passed overhead. The ghost of a harpy stared them down like a sentinel, an otherworldly glow attached to every mangled feather. Wind yanked his gaze forward. It was best to ignore them. He stumbled as the specter of a Basilisk dragged itself past his toes.

Wind didn’t notice himself slipping behind the others. He forced down a shiver as a hippogriff passed right through him. It’s claws sounded like nails on a chalkboard against the concrete as it ran away from where they were headed. The place that had his brothers, soul strings getting shorter and shorter the closer they got. Wind forced himself to walk faster, even as the air got colder, gritting his teeth to stop them from chattering.

Hyrule and Warriors came to a stop at the end of the avenue, opening out into a plaza. A wall of roses framed the entrance, thick thorns climbing all the way up the spires. There were fountains of Zora, spitting a stream upwards, catching the lamp light to make the water glimmer. Ornate columns lined the buildings full of stained glass windows.

Wind couldn’t even focus on the auction house ahead of them. He stared above it all, unable to look away from the cyclone of spirits looking back at him. The phantom of a Manticore paced at the edge of the building. A wyvern wraith circled them like a vulture. He had never seen so many ghosts in one place. It looked like some kind of temple of souls. 

Warriors turned to him, ears twitching and hesitant. Stupid vampire hearing can probably already tell his heart’s trying to beat it’s way out of his chest.

“Are you ready?”

Wind nodded, not willing to say anything that could taste like a lie. Hyrule knocked his shoulder against Warriors’s own. “We still don’t know if invitational rules apply. This is the only way to get in.”

“Alright. I know,” Warriors agreed with a sigh. “We’ll come around from the east side. Try to draw the guard west towards Four.”

“Sure, it’s not like we’ve been over this a million times or anything.” Wind tried to joke. It must work because Warriors smiled, ruffling his hair.

“Stay safe.”

“Only if you do.” Wind fired back as Hyrule gave him a salute. He doesn’t move until their backs disappear from view into the shadows. 

Wind saunters right up to the front entrance. A bodyguard with a mane of hair stands there, unfazed with a lion key of some kind around his neck. Pretty shiny. 

“And who might you be?” The guard asks, a bit patronizing. As if Wind is a kid that got lost and needs directions.

“Who the hell am I? WHO THE HELL AM I?!” Wind screeches as the man gives him an affronted look. “I’ve been waiting for hours with the Manticore rations at the drop off point and what do I get for you wasting my time? Not a nickel! Not a penny in sight for making me march all the way up here to figure out who I need to send the funeral rites to!”

“What the hell are you talking about?” The guard demands, all humor gone from his expression.

“GREG! What kind of consequences do you think there are for showing up to feed a starving Manticore without the proper precautions? Do you know how much shit you're in? The paperwork we’re both about to be up to our ears in because you couldn’t do your damn job?!”

“Listen kid—”

“No! I didn’t just pry a man’s corpse out of a lion faced fuck from hell for you to tell me you don’t even know who I’m talking about! Is this how your establishment treats the death of their employees?!”

“He signed an NDA–!”

“No! He deserves better than all this bureaucratic bullshit!” Wind tries to keep himself from smiling as he lets tears well in his eyes and the man’s face pales in horror at the idea of having to deal with a child that is not only screaming but about to start crying. “You learn a lot about a guy when you’re forced to shovel shit and avoid getting stung by some poisonous tail thing for a couple hours! What do you expect me to tell his wife!?”

The man scrambles for some excuse as Wind keeps screaming at him. Hopefully he’s yelling loud enough that the guy doesn’t hear Hyrule giggling behind him. If Wind gets a sore throat just because he’s working overtime to cover for Hyrule’s obvious lack of stealth then he’s going to heal him when this is over. Warriors emerges from the shadows, eyes glowing as he nods to Wind before shutting the door behind them without so much as a click.

Wind lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Warriors crosses the threshold without issue, before immediately taking another breath to keep shouting as the man in front of him shakes his head.

“Alright, alright, look, just show me your insignia and I’ll let you inside alright? It’ll both our heads if you're still making a fuss like this out here when the VIP’s leave, yeah? We wouldn’t want a scene would we?”

“My insignia?” Wind stutters as the man nods. “Ah, yeah, right my ID! I just, uh, left it in the carriage! You know how finicky pegasuses can be, just let me go grab it—” The man’s eyes narrow, looming over him as he steps closer. “It’ll only take a second, really—!”

The guard abruptly lunges, yanking Wind’s wrist and pulling up his sleeve. The man has some kind of hawk icon, shining with magic on his arm that Wind, decidedly, does not. “Listen Mr.—” Wind glances down to his nametag in a panic. “Lynel, uh, sir? This is just a little misunderstanding, I haven’t quite finished my initiation, come on! You of all people know how long that particular process takes—”

The sneer the man’s face had pulled into revealed too sharp teeth and breath that, quite frankly, reeked. Wind wouldn’t be surprised if this guy had eaten a Manticore for breakfast. So really Wind had no choice but to kick him between his legs right then and there as hard as he could because that smell had to be some kind of health hazard.

The man’s grip was still surprisingly strong even after the breath had been knocked out of him, so Wind planted a heel to his face and vaulted out of his grip. He hooked another ankle under the man’s jaw, lanyard coming loose with a snap as he rolled, hitting the concrete hard. His palms and knees stung, bloody and scratched. 

Mr. Lynel gave an ear splitting roar, making Wind’s ears ring as he scrambled to his feet. Dammit had Warriors said to run east or west to Four? They had come in from the south right?! So left would be east, which would be port side. Yeah, that’s totally right! The sound of shoes pounding on concrete had Wind glancing behind him to find the guard charging at him, way too fast at a speed that should not be possible. He’s almost inches behind, hands that seemed like claws outstretched to—

Wind felt an abrupt tug around from the Pirate Charm around his neck, yanking him into an alleyway. Mr. Lynel charged past him, barreling straight through a wall of stone. Wind tried to skid to a stop but his momentum sent him tumbling, knocking him down on top of—

“This was NOT part of the plan!” Four hissed, pushing Wind off him and immediately hauling both of them up.

“Says who?” Wind asked with a grin, detaching the lion shaped key from the lanyard tangled around his boot that had miraculously stayed caught in his shoelaces during the chase. 

They both just coughed for a moment, trying to hack up the cloud of dust from the bricks that had been flattened to powder. Wind flinched at the ghost of a Manticore, pacing at the dead end and pawing at some kind of window. Four looked behind them for the threat and saw nothing, turning back around to snatch the key from Wind.

“You should get going,” Four warned, closing his eyes to concentrate on duplicating the key in his palm that was starting to shine a myriad of colors.

“Yeah but, uh, what if I didn’t?” The sparks in Four’s hands died as he whipped around to glare at Wind, which was, ironically, more intimidating than the specter of a Manticore a couple meters away, still ignoring them both.

“No, no, I knew this would happen! We’ve been over the plan a thousand times, we get in and out with everyone else and you protect the seal back at the safehouse!”

“Which is bullshit and you know it!” Wind snapped back, following as Four marched further into the alley. “If Cia could have destroyed or moved Lana’s seal she would have done it when she raided the place the first time. That’s the whole reason we’re here, to make sure Cia can’t follow us cause there’s nothing to stop us from leaving once we get the others—”

“And you should go back to make sure it stays that way,” Four argued, not meeting Wind’s eyes as he turned towards the locked window above both of them.

“There’s no point in me going back to protect something that doesn’t need protecting while you all do the dangerous shit here!”

The scratch of stones sounded behind them. The rubble from the remains of the wall by the street crumbled to reveal Mr. Lynel, covered in soot with blood slipping from his forehead over his eyes. His bloodshot gaze stared them down, a rumbling growl building in the back of it’s throat. Rearing back again to pounce, the man stumbled on unsteady legs. Wind grabbed Four’s wrist, running deeper into the dead end of the alley.

“What are you—?!”

“Just trust me!”

Wind tackled them both under the ghost of the Manticore, slitted eyes following them as they rolled under it. Mr. Lynel roared in outrage and the Manticore turned its attention to the huge man. Wind wrapped his hand around the beast’s ankle, the ghostly glow evaporating in an instant. The bristling fur and barbed tail swishing side to side suddenly became tangible, reality bleeding into it as the color from Mr. Lynel’s face drained away.

Four winced, skull rattling around inside his head as the beasts charge each other, the ground itself shaking from the force. Wind dropped like a stone, eyes rolling back and blood trickling from his nose. Four cursed, instantly dragging the taller, unconscious boy up by his shoulders, fumbling with the key in his hand. He managed to turn it into the lock for the hatch one handed, trying to keep Wind upright as his head lolled back alarmingly. A pulse of magic spread from the window pane as Four maneuvered Wind in his arms, trying to push him through before—

Claws closed inches from Four’s ankle as he dived through the window, door snapping shut behind him without seconds to spare. The guard slammed face first into the hatch. The Manticore disintegrated into thin air behind him, ghostly particles evaporating. A roar seemed to shake the room itself as claws and boots kicked and scratched against the enchanted panel. The onslaught barely left a scratch on the glass. Reflective eyes continue to follow Four as the thing outside paced, still snarling. The guard stumbled against the wall after throwing his body against it, shoulder bulging unnaturally.

“You should get help,” Four noted as the bodyguard hissed in pain. “They say Manticore poison can kill in less than a minute. Probably closer to ten, with someone your size.”

The bodyguard stopped to stare him down. Its gums pulled back into a smile before it laughed, blood coating its teeth. The man limped, as much as he could, back down the alley.

He didn’t turn back to the plaza. Which can only mean he is more afraid of admitting someone got into the building. He can’t get any help going back inside.

If the punishment is that severe for members, Four can only imagine what horrors await intruders.

Wind yelped behind him, startling Four. The unhinged jaw of a Chimera slammed against the bars of the cages closest to them. Both of the boys scrambled backwards, careful to avoid the other pens surrounding the room.

In a burst of color Four’s soul split, duplicates filling the room. Red basically hopped into Wind’s arms, screaming. Blue lifted his foot as if to kick the bars before Vio yanked the back of his hood. Green tried to shush them all, looking for shadows under the door behind them in a panic.

“Are you alright?” Red asked, wiping off the line of blood still dribbling down Wind’s chin.

“Of course he’s not, he just passed out!” Blue snapped, trying to shove off Vio’s grip on his shoulder.

“HE can talk, thank you very much,” Wind retorted, still blinking the spots from his eyes. His foot was halfway through Blue’s soul string, which would explain his annoyance. Wind almost tripped over a cage of chuchus trying to untangle himself from the thread as Green leapt forward to steady him. The blur in his eyes wasn’t going away, no matter how hard he scrubbed. Wind only understood why as the room came into focus. There were almost as many ghosts in the cages as living creatures.

A jackalope nudged an unmoving body as a ghost tried to buck their antlers together, only to go right through the other. A kitsune huffed and continued licking it’s paws, unbothered by their presence. Fairies lined the shelves in tightly packaged bottles, wings pressed uncomfortably up against the glass. Gnomes shivered, dozens trapped in a cage and hovering close together. They ran as far as they could from the bars as Green approached, murmuring reassurances under his breath.

“It’s okay, you can go now, see?” He whispered as the lock on the cage unlatched with the lion key. The creatures inside did not move. 

“We should hurry,” Vio reminded them, eyes still glued to the door.

“We can’t just leave them all here!” Red wailed, sending a few creatures scurrying deeper into their pens.

“We stick with the plan,” Green put his palms together as another flash filled the room. Three more lion keys sat in his hand, the hawk insignia still intact and shining. “Free as many as we can until Warriors and Hyrule are finished.”

“It’s not like we can take all of them,” Blue reminded them all. Red’s face flushed, tears in his eyes and an insult on his tongue before Wind squeezed Red’s hand. His fingers passed through Red’s soul string wrapped around his pinkie finger. Wind knew it wouldn’t help— His powers didn’t let him transfer emotions to people, but it made Red a little easier to understand.

“We’ll save everyone we can, but we can’t force them to leave.” Wind tried to soothe, an ebbing feeling of melancholy slipping through his fingers as Red’s string turned untouchable again the second he let go.

Red didn’t look happy, but he scrubbed the tears from his eyes and took a key, quickly unlocking as many as he could. His eyes were so blurry with tears that it took several attempts to get the locks undone, but he was making progress—which is more than Wind could say, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot as Blue and Vio took their own keys and started unlocking cells.

“Are there any other useful creatures you could make tangible here?” Vio asked, not looking up from where he’d freed the Chimera still hunched in the back of its crate, snake tail cowering behind a goat that bellowed menacingly. 

“Don’t ask him to do that, you saw how much that Manticore cost!” Blue argued in an instant but Wind shook his head. 

“Nothing close by, I don’t think. I’ll scout ahead while you get this room done.”

Four different sets of arguments rose up, but Wind was already out the door and down the hall, following the five strings before him.

Wild’s feet hit the carpet without a sound as he sprints down the hall, almost stumbling over the smooth velvet under his toes. Is the ground slippery? Is that why he keeps tripping? Is there a leak or something to make the ground damp? Maybe he should take off his shoes, then he could feel why the ground is being so weird— no, wait, he’ll just touch it.

It’s softer than he thought it should be, but it’s wet. Why is it soaked? A drop joins the puddle growing on the floor. Wild’s own clothes feel soggy, clinging to his body. When did he get drenched? Why is his hair sticking to his face?

There are footsteps behind him, muffled arguments and shouting. Why are their voices dimmed? There can’t be water everywhere right? The ornate wall paper shows no sign of peeling. Silhouettes lay just out of sight down the hall, illuminated by the lanterns lining the walls. Yeah, he’s not underwater. Otherwise there wouldn’t be fire— but the candles are dripping. It doesn’t smell like smoke. 

A couple of guys with nose rings and pig-like faces round the corner, covered in fur coats, screeching as they catch sight of him. That’s probably why he was running. It would explain why he’s so out of breath, even if he’s not holding it underwater. There aren’t even any bubbles rising as the men shout at him to stop, running closer and closer—

The closest swine raises something in his hand, bringing it down inches from Wild’s face before freezing. The crowd behind him stops too, perfectly suspended in place, stuck in the positions they were in seconds ago. Wild finds himself laughing at how silly they look, faces mid-scream as they all reach for guns or even garlic for some reason. They are moving just a little though. Kind of like snails or pond scum— they can’t dive anywhere like that.

Wild resolves to help them, tugging all of their feet out from under them so they can fall into the water easier. Well, there’s no water around, he knows that, but they are all moving so slow they might as well be underwater. If they start running again they’ll all barrel into each other, so he’s just stopping them so they can reorient themselves once time starts working like it’s supposed to again. It happens every now and then. Probably for everybody. But he thinks Time might have said it didn’t work like that. But what does time know? It’s frozen. 

Plus Wild is just being helpful. Taking active precautions against dangerous scenarios for people running down slippery hallways. He’s a nice guy like that. But these guys don’t look very nice. In fact their eyes trying to follow him is kinda creepy. He doesn’t really want to look at them anymore. All of the swine-faced people then return to their previous trajectories, which ends with all of them falling onto their faces.

And then they all start yelling again, very loudly, so Wild grabs a portrait off the wall and shoves it on to the mass of men trying to get up and sprints away. The frame itself is bigger than he is, but comes off the wall surprisingly easily. He wonders if all the portraits are like that. Wild takes another chance, grabbing a picture and chucking it behind him as he goes. Some more swine faced thugs trip over it, which is honestly just kind of funny at this point. It stops being funny when he recognizes the pictures though. Paintings? Must be. Warriors can’t show up in pictures or mirrors anymore.

Apparently Wild was still running while looking at the walls because he barrels into someone at the perfect height to knock him over. 

“Four! There you are!” Wild exclaims as the guy in question looks him up and down with wide blue eyes.

“Where are your shoes? Why the hell are you here?!” He shouts, looking behind him at the guards starting to get to their feet.

“Where else would I be?”

“You said you found Legend, you were going back to get him!” Wild stills at the realization, the water dripping down his spine feeling much colder. Four suddenly tackles them both to the ground as the popping of bullets fill Wild’s ears. Four holds up his hands in front of them both with a flash of light as a bullet connects with his palm. The shell splits into four pieces in mid air, ricochetting shrapnel down the hall.

“Get going!” Four orders, pulling Wild up and pushing him further down the foyer. Wild hesitates for just a moment too long before pivoting on his heel as the sounds of gunfire grow distant. Corridor after corridor, the walls all look the same— but the floor is dry. That’s wrong. He needs to find wet carpet, that means he’s been that way before, he can go back to where he was. Where Legend was. Wild found him once, he just needs to do it again. They are keeping Legend somewhere with water. Legend, Legend, Legend, he needs to find Legend, before he—

“Wild?!” Four’s voice calls from the end of the hall as Wild looks up from watching his bare feet. Green eyes wide with worry freeze him in place. “Thank the goddesses you're alright! Do you know where they are keeping the others? Have you seen Wind?”

“Silver,” Wild warns, everything leaving his mouth in a flood. “I saw Blue, they’re using silver bullets, not copper. If you try to split the bullets they are using silver casings for werewolves. Not copper. Alright?”

“Got it.” Green agrees instantly, taking Wild by the hand and shoving them both through a door Wild didn’t know was open. Green presses a lion key to Wild’s palms. “I need you to stay here. It’s really important, okay? I’ve gotta go help Blue. Free every creature in this room. Wait for me. Okay? Wild? Can you wait for me?”

He must have nodded because Green nods back and lets go of his hand, shutting the door behind him. Wild turns back to the cages lining the walls. He steps into a puddle. The floor is wet.

Hyrule turned on his heel as Warriors hissed through gritted teeth the second his foot crossed the entryway. Wind’s eyes locked with his own, but he didn’t acknowledge him at all, still screaming his lungs out and successfully distracting the guard who was looking more and more flustered by the second. 

“Come in.” Hyrule uttered the phrase quietly, but with certainty. There was always power in statements like that, every syllable sending a warning down his spine. The pained expression on Warriors face didn’t disappear, pushing them further down the foyer. He glanced back at Wind through the tinted windows but kept pace.

“It’s too late. She knows we’re here.”

“How?”

“She made sure to invite me before we even got here,” Warriors answered with a grimace. “She wanted us to come.”

Hyrule only nodded his understanding, walking a bit more briskly. Warriors matched him step for step, perfectly in sync. Marble pillars held up the ceiling like ribs, the interconnected archways over their heads making it seem like they were stuck in some cage of bone. They reminded Hyrule of museums, ancient wonders stripped of everything they ever were and hung on display. Creatures pinned to walls, wings spread and frayed at the edges with age. Hyrule would often wonder how long their corpses had hung there for all to see. He wondered how long it would need to stay there, rotting in a gallery, before it was considered art rather than a carcass. 

Hyrule was used to his rare abilities inviting challenges, whether it be from poachers, bounty hunters, mercenaries or everything in between. Hyrule has been on the run because of the value of what he is his entire life. But his abilities don’t feel as necessary for survival as they once did. Being hunted for healing doesn’t feel like a curse anymore.

Now he can heal Wind’s scraped knees instead of his own broken bones. He can heal Wild’s crooked nose whenever he falls out of trees instead of gashes across his own stomach. He can heal twisted ankles and stubbed toes and bruises from walking into a wall when someone woke up in the middle of the night for a drink and didn’t want to turn the lights on to wake everyone up.

He didn’t know much he could like healing, when he was doing it for people he cared about, rather than being forced to. But it’s made them careless. There’s an apathy for their injuries now. A disregard for themselves that Hyrule was sure wasn’t there before he met them. A close call is nothing when he can erase the scars before they even form. He loves being able to heal them, but sometimes Hyrule wishes they didn’t make him do it so often.

Warriors stills behind him and Hyrule feels a hand grab at the back of his neck, forcing him to stop. Two pig faced men turn the corner, freezing as they see them. Hyrule holds his breath, prepared for the ruse to drop in an instant.

“What are you looking at?” The captain snarled with irritation dripping from his tone, eyebrows raised in something like disgust. “You didn’t expect me to bring something to thank Cia for her gift?”

He shoves Hyrule forward as if to prove the point, pushing past the guards with nothing but confidence. Hyrule lets his knees buckle just a bit to make it seem like a stumble. The guards say nothing, but Hyrule can feel their gazes follow them, burning into his back like a brand. He lets go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding as they turn the next corridor.

Warriors hasn’t stopped looking behind them, paranoia making him taut as a bowstring ready to snap. Blunt nails bite into Hyrule’s skin as Warriors squeezes his shoulder with a whiteknuckled grip. Hyrule recognizes that fear, slipping into it like a second skin as he watches the gaping maw of the halls ahead of them stretch like sinews.

But Hyrule will keep his mouth shut and try not to focus on how much he hates this place. He hates walking through these halls without the brush of Sky’s feathers against his hands, like he always does when he’s anxious. He hates that Wild and Wind aren’t running ahead of them, urging him to catch up. He hates that Legend isn’t beside him, teasing them all just because he feels safe enough to do so.

“Hyrule don’t—“

His hands closed around a door knob, bronze burning as he pulled the door back. Hyrule healed his fingertips before Warriors could scrutinize the scabs, squinting as if the injury would reveal itself if he glared at it hard enough. He wouldn’t find anything, though. Hyrule has healed his hands on instinct his whole life without a single callous to show for it. Warriors only sighed and kept walking. Hyrule bites his tongue against the urge to point out that Warriors had gotten himself hurt for no reason before they had even entered this exhibition. It was only fair Hyrule could do the same.

“I’ll manage.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“But I will.” Hyrule dares him to say otherwise. Warriors says nothing, flinching away from his hold on Hyrule’s shoulder.

“I didn’t… I don’t want you to be responsible for this. For me.” Warriors murmurs, so quiet Hyrule can barely hear him over the crush of his boots over the velvet carpet.

“You’re going to live to bury me, Warriors,” Hyrule tells him, not willing to avoid that truth any longer as a varnished door comes into view at the end of the hall. “You’re going to outlive all of us. She is the only one I’m going to hold responsible for that.”

Warriors hugs him from behind. Every instinct Hyrule has says to jerk himself free this close to a door with a handle that could turn and reveal an enemy any second. He sinks into Warriors hold, relaxing as the captain pulls him closer. Hyrule is happy to stall their confrontation. At least for a little while longer. When the captain stops shaking Hyrule turns to look at him directly, ignoring how red his eyes are.

“You ready?” Hyrule asked as Warriors answered with a nod into his shoulder before lifting his head.

“At least you have enough sense to know convicts don’t open doors for their captors.” Warriors tried to tease.

“Sorry I don’t have much experience being a prisoner,” Hyrule dismissed with a shrug.

“If this goes right then you’ll never have to learn.” Warriors promised, fingers locking around the handle.

Warriors opens the door. Hyrule goes through.

A flicker of movement was the only hint Twilight had as a gorgon lunged at him from behind. He rolled with the momentum, flinging the overgrown lizard over his back. He jumped over the sweep of a tail only for claws to puncture his back.

He hit the floor hard, arms braced against the claws pushing him down. Snakes writhed, snarling and snapping from the roots of the gorgon’s hair. Each hiss sent a spittle of acid across his face. The fangs were inches from his eyes as Twilight rolled.

He kicked the gorgon off him with such force that its teeth went through their own jaw. The wound on his back had already healed by the time a second monster flung themself at him. He resisted the urge to scratch— regeneration always itched.

Twilight pivoted on his heel to slam into another gorgon, raking his claws into their chest and feeling the ribcage buckle under in his hands. The gorgon was still twitching, trying to get up, but Twilight ran as the cacophony of hissing grew closer. He couldn’t get overwhelmed in such tight corridors. 

His hand ached, claws fluctuating in and out, blood seeping from the beds of his nails. His jaw was sore, the irregular growing canines cutting the inside of his mouth as he grit his teeth. His hair was long enough for someone to grab now, tripping over his own bones trying to rearrange themselves as he ran. The five cords attached to his ankle guided him down the velvet paths ahead. 

Time’s soul string seemed to get farther away the more Twilight followed it through the cursed halls. He couldn’t smell anything useful, just the pungent stink of mythical creatures forced to sit in their own filth. A massive room opened up ahead of him, ceiling peeling away to reveal a taller roof than all of the cramped halls he had ventured through before. Twilight sprinted forward the best he could, the claws of his feet shifting and puncturing through his shoes with every step.

A sharp scent entered his nose, thick like poison. Vats of something like acid sat before him, massive tanks with dispensers. The smell rose to the high rafters above him, an open window trying in vain to air out the toxins. If he could find Sky they might be able to get out that way. Twilight had already searched the whole place for any kind of escape to no avail— not that he expected a crazy vampire sorceress to have any windows to let light into a place like this.

There were stables as well, barely held together pens lining the sides. Twilight’s stomach swelled with disgust at the trophies lining the walls— unicorn horns hung as far as he could see. There were cracks and veins pulsing through the spires like they’d been cursed. All kinds of lengths, of every shape and size, no matter the age. Twilight stayed as still as possible, hoping the shade from the canisters would obscure how much he was shaking with fury. He didn’t trust himself not to rip out the throat of the next person he saw.

A bray sounded from the stalls as Twilight quelled his fury, venturing ahead through the shadows. The door keened like a dying animal as he opened it, wincing. No footsteps grew closer, though, as Twilight’s eyes instantly adjusted to the dark. The hay was enough to muffle the click of his claws as he crept closer to the creature in the back of the pen.

“No…” Twilight choked on a sob, scrambling towards her. “No, no, no!”

Epona lays at the back of the cell, chest heaving, the uneven breathing sounding louder in his ears the more she struggles to draw in a single breath. She flinches away from him, bucking her head as he tries to get closer.

“Shh, shh, it’s me, you know me, I’m here, I’m right here,” Twilight shushes her, murmuring in a way that he hopes is soothing. Epona drops her head into his lap, a low neigh escaping as he cards his bleeding fingers through her hair, careful not to scratch her with his claws as he strokes her muzzle.

The stump of where her horn once was drips some glowing ichor as he cups her face in his hands, thumbing away the blood from her eyes. His throat closes up as he tries to hum her song under his breath as she nuzzles her face further into his hands. What’s left of her horn sparks, the jagged edges emitting embers of magic weakly burning before giving out entirely. The cracks in the stump on Epona’s brow grow larger, deeper, tiny chunks falling off.

“Hey, hey, no, no, none of that. You don’t need to do that. I’m gonna get you out of here, I swear.”

The overwhelming smell of burning flesh entered Twilight’s nose as he peered around the stable to get a better look at the guards. There were more than he could count, but the room was so big he couldn’t see all of them. He wouldn’t be able to gouge out their throats before they could scream to alert the others.

“Careful, careful! Do you want to burn my fingers off?! Don’t just stand there! Take it!”

Twilight hesitated as the shine of a horn glowed in the gorgon’s hands. One held the unicorn horn under the spout as the other triggered some kind of mechanism that made a rumbling sound as the vicious acid dripped.

There was a flash, so bright that Twilight had to look away, blinking spots out of his eyes. When the room had dimmed enough for him to see again the horn was dull, identical to the others on the wall. It was still steaming. The smell of burning magic settles in his mouth like tar, cloying and sour.

Whatever had burned the gorgons wasn’t the acid itself but the purity of the horn. The gorgons shook the remainder of some kind of cloth off their wrists. He saw scraps of discarded materials that might have resembled gloves at one point littering the floor. Everything from Basilisk skin to centaur leather— there was nothing left that wasn’t smoldering after being in direct contact with the unicorn horn.

Epona gave a low whinny, struggling to get her hooves under her as she rose. Twilight knows she won’t stay down no matter how much he wants her to. He braces his shoulder under Epona’s shaking legs, hefting her up to lean against the pen, knocking over a trough. Twilight and Epona’s ears swivel in sync to the sound of claws on stone, footsteps growing closer with hissed curses.

The stable’s door opens with another squeal as Twilight pounces, jaw unhinging to tear through the gorgon’s throat. Its body hits the floor with a thud, the hay flying in the air making Epona sneeze. Every sound is too loud as more guards call from across the room. The taste of iron and blood in his mouth is making it too hard to breathe.

Epona charged past him without hesitation, Twilight’s jaw dropping as she rammed straight through the growing crowd of guards. The pop of a gunshot made him duck as he ran to follow her.

“Don’t shoot the cursed thing! The mistress will skin us alive!”

Twilight almost laughed at the sight of the unprepared guards trying to circle Epona only to be crushed. The hordes trying to slow her down only give her a bigger target, bucking left and right through their bumbling attempts to overwhelm her. The ruckus had caused the other unicorns to start bucking at their restraints as well. The ones that still had horns made the chains glow with heat, firing off blasts of magic in the directions of any guards that came close.

Unfortunately no one had told the unicorns that Twilight was also too close. The onslaught of magic was too much to dodge. A bolt of magic sent him tumbling, the flesh of his shoulder dissolving before reconstructing itself as fatigue set over him like a fog. His regeneration was getting slower by the second. That might have taken off his arm if he’d been human.

Twilight limped the best he could towards the stables, the unicorns still frantically stomping as he approached. He rolled around another flare of energy, finally hooking his claws between the lock and ripping it off. The door swung open into his face as he rolled to avoid being trampled. The gorgons ahead of him weren’t so lucky.

Wind skidded to a stop for the sixth turn in a row, backtracking down the hall he’d come from. The man in the lounge ahead of him was tall with a gaunt face and dead eyes, moving lethargically like he’s taken one too many night shifts. Wind still wasn’t willing to take the chance that he’s completely blind, instead opting to turn away from the glowing threads beckoning him forward. Which was ridiculous given that it was the third guest suite he’d had to sprint past only to end up in two different reception rooms, neither of which were getting him any closer to the soul strings getting more tangled by the second.

None of his brother’s threads looked or felt anything like they were supposed to— Wind couldn’t think of a single time Wild’s string had ever been still, always pulling, yanking Wind in multiple directions like a magnet making a compass go haywire. Now it wasn’t even twitching, unlike Twilight’s that hadn’t been still since they got here. What if they were moving him? What if Cia knew all of Warrior’s soulmates could tell where he was, that he was coming to get them, and she’d had them moved all throughout this massive maze?

He turned on his ankle as he almost ran head first into the guard he thought he had ditched four corridors ago. Wind scrambled back to hide behind a pillar only to slam a hand over his mouth as the sensation of his spine splitting itself in two ran up his back. He fell to his knees in agony, breathing heavy as he untangled himself from a cord— Legend’s. Oh Zephos, what were they doing to Legend?!

Wind grit his teeth, thudding his head against the wall as he swallowed a frustrated scream. He sank down, curling up to bury his head in his knees. Just to stay out of sight. That was the only reason.

The worst pain Wind had felt from a soul string had only been the twinge of Wild’s broken arm, once, a couple years ago. This was nothing like that, a sting growing behind his eyes, and a nauseous feeling building in the depths of his stomach as he stared at the lines ahead of him. The route ahead was clear, but impossible to get through.

A blockade.

Wind took a deep breath and reached for the lines to anchor himself.

Twilight’s was sore and aching, but not currently painful. Wild’s wasn’t hurt, even as Wind wrapped the tether around his finger. He couldn’t even feel a scratch. The glow Sky’s line usually had was dimmed as a sensation like a thousand needles pierced Wind’s back. He dropped the string like it had burned him.

He didn’t dare touch Time’s soul thread. There was a single, massive knot taking up half of the line’s usual thickness. It was fraying at the edges, seconds away from snapping. Wind didn’t want to risk touching it. But he knew who was hurt now. He knew Sky had the shortest string so he was closest. He knew Wild and Twilight could handle themselves a bit longer. He knew Time was the strongest person he’d ever known. He knew Legend was too stubborn to let something like this beat him. 

Wind flinched at the sound of footsteps behind him, voices echoing from down the foyer. He ducked behind another column, holding his breath as the complaints grew louder and closer.

“…Bastard just about bit my head off when I asked what the hold up was!” A gruff tone sounded, inches from where Wind’s back hit the wall. 

“What? Are they having purifying issues with the unicorns again?”

“Something like that. I don’t know what they expect me to do about it. How do they want us to preserve angel feathers? Just yank the damn things off?” The first man snarled again, stomping down the hall. “They’ll disintegrate in seconds without the damn powder. How long does it take them to cut off the stupid horns and refine it?”

The other guard’s reply faded as Wind finally allowed himself to release a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Sky. They were talking about Sky, they had to be. Angels were too rare, they couldn’t be talking about anyone else. Wind followed just a couple paces behind as the men ahead effortlessly navigated the labyrinth of the mansion. Sky’s soul string grew brighter, shorter, closer with every step Wind took.

They stopped at a door, identical to all the others Wind had passed before, pulling out a key exactly like the one Four had replicated. The insignia Wind could see on their wrists shined the same pulsing purple as the handle, a lock giving way as the men shouldered themselves through. He couldn’t see anyone or anything past the frame. How the hell was he supposed to get in there?!

Wind sprinted to the door just as it closed, pressing his ear to the gap. Not a sound made its way through the opening. No way to tell what they were doing to Sky in there. Wind kicked the stupid table in the foyer, biting back a curse as he stubbed his toe. A vase of lilies tilted alarmingly as Wind leapt forward to steady it. Who puts random ass flowers in extremely breakable containers in hallways? Just because they can?! Wind would have already smashed the damn thing if it wouldn’t make so much noise—....

…Huh…

Wind pulled out a pen he’d forgotten was in his pocket. Okay, maybe this could work…

One brilliant idea later and Wind was pounding on the door. A man opened it, looking around for a second before noticing Wind below him. He gave the vase Wind was struggling to hold up a double take, opening and closing his mouth like he couldn’t articulate what to even ask.

“Well are you just going to stand there?! We’re on a schedule man! You think you’re the only person who needs, like, sixty pounds of unicorn dust?!”

Wind didn’t wait for an answer as he pushed his way past the door, setting the vase carefully on the floor. The man glanced at his wrist before Wind put his hands on his hips, conveniently covering the ink that was still wet. “Well? I haven’t got all day.”

The guard squinted as he came over, leaning over to peer into the jar, sniffing. He sneezed, bits of crushed up lilies flying into the air. Wind took the opening, slamming the pot into his face, ceramic shattering on impact as the man squealed, covering his eyes. 

A crash sounded from deeper in the room. Wind turned over a couple of shelves, flipping a few tables to cover his tracks. The guard tripped over the leg of a stool, still trying to pick shards out of his eyes. Wind ran further in, Sky’s line ending just ahead of him—

A scream cut off with a wet gurgle as Wind entered to see a scalpel of some kind halfway through the second guard’s neck. Sky looked up with fury in his eyes, the expression instantly dissipating as he saw Wind. The sailor couldn’t stop himself from smiling, about to step closer when fire suddenly lit up the side of his face. His vision went white, world tilting sideways as his legs gave out. His head was pulsing. A precise, pinprick sensation shoved its way under the thin flesh of his eyelids.

Wind blinked to see the concrete floor, cold on his skin. He was on the ground. When did he get on the ground? Everything was too muddled, too blurry to see. Sky was standing over him, a blur of white flailing wildly as the rest of the storage shelves in the room came down. The angel batted away a giant barrel with his wing, a sickening crunch sending him tumbling to the floor alongside Wind.

They both laid there, chests heaving as the world came back into focus. It was too silent for anyone to be coming after them. Wind heaved himself up on shaking arms, still too scared to open his eyes. He reached blindly around the cord at his legs, the pain evaporating as his fingers closed around the line, tugging it free as gently as he could.

“You okay?” Sky asked, hands hovering but not quite touching Wind as he opened his eyes.

“Do not ask me that right now. You’re not supposed to be the one asking that. Not right now.” Wind coughed, bolting upright. “Something’s wrong. There’s some kind of knot in Time’s line, he’s hurt. Like really, really bad—”

“Hey, hey, breathe a second—”

“Legend is too and Wild hasn’t moved and I don’t know what that even means. Twilight’s thread is still moving too much and if they’re moving him I don’t know how long we have until he’s too far away—”

“Wind, I need you to breathe.” Sky reminded him again, steadying his anxious pacing with hands on Wind’s shoulders.

“There’s no time!” Wind wheezed, pushing away to stumble towards the door. “We can’t just stay here, we have to go, move, it might already be too—”

“We’re going to go after them, Wind. I need a little help first. Can you do that?”

“What?” Wind asked, breathless, already turning back around. Sky was leaning heavily against the wall, wing bent and crooked, feathers stained red at the edges.

“I just need to catch my breath, alright? Can you help me?”

“Yes,” Wind agreed instantly, guilt making his throat close up as he tried to rasp out a response. “Yeah, sure, shit, sorry, I didn’t think—”

“It’s alright. It’s okay. I just can’t remember that breathing thing Time always tells us to do. The one Malon taught him. I can’t remember how it started. Can you help?”

“Yeah, it was the,” Wind sucked in the air that couldn’t make it to his lungs. “It was like in for two? Or out?”

“Three I think,” Sky supplied, rubbing circles into his back.

“It was three, yeah, you're right. In for three out for six?”

“Yes. Can you show me?”

Wind takes an exaggerated inhale through his nose, counting down the seconds in his head as Sky mouths the words. There’s a brief pause as Wind holds the air and Sky counts down on his fingers mimicking his breathing. Wind doesn’t know how long they repeat that for, but eventually his heartbeat doesn’t sound so loud to his own ears anymore. Sky smiles like he’s done something to be proud of.

“... I want to go find Time now.” Wind manages to say without stuttering over his own words. Sky nods, stepping over the mess of shelves and suspiciously bodyguard shaped lumps. He doesn’t try to tell Wind he’s not ready yet like the others do—even if they won't actually say it. Wind has learned how to see things that aren’t there, in the ghost of Warriors’s frown, and the specter of a scrunch on Time’s forehead. But Sky opens the door for Wind with a sweep of his wings, one still hanging at an awkward angle.

“After you.”

The vice-like grip returned to Hyrule’s shoulder as Warriors walked through the door. Antiquities lined the walls, jars full of things that seemed to watch them as they entered. Portraits of Warrior’s face hung on the walls like bodies at the gallows as Hyrule bit his tongue enough to taste blood. The scent of iron and ash filled the room, pungent in Hyrule’s lungs as he held his breath.

The woman before them was draped over a desk, mahogany polished enough for Hyrule to see his reflection. The image of his own face stared back at him, alone, without Warriors behind him. He was supposed to look scared. Not angry. That thought only made him more furious, nails biting into the leather over his palms.

Painted black nails like claws tapped against the desk, stilling as the door creaked open. She barely spared Hyrule a glance. Her lips peeled back to reveal fangs as she grinned.

“It’s rude to keep me waiting,” Cia chastised, but she was still smiling. “But then again if you’re here I assume you’ve finally come to the same conclusion that I have.”

“Surely someone as ancient as yourself is well versed in the art of patience,” Warriors replied effortlessly with an apologetic lilt to his voice that didn’t belong so close to Hyrule’s ears. “I'm sorry it took so long for me to realize you were right. Immortality is a gift and I’ve come to thank you with one of my own.”

Warriors pushed Hyrule forward, as Cia stood. She walked past him entirely, only focused on Warriors.

“You know why I had to do this, don’t you?”

“I’m sure in time I’ll come to understand your reasons,” Warriors said, not quite managing to erase the uncomfortable tone of his voice as Cia came closer.

A single blue eye surveyed them before she turned her back on them both, striding away with a pleased hum. Cia ran her fingers over a scepter displayed on the wall. “Soulmates are a lie for the desperate. I’ve freed you from spending your life chained to someone you didn’t choose.”

Warriors took the opening, an iron dagger slipping into his hand like a glove. Cia caught the knife before it grazed the back of her neck, millimeters away from piercing her flesh. Smile still in place she looked over her shoulder with a gleaming blue eye.

“And what exactly," Warriors spat, fury in every word, “have you done to me?”

Cia giggled like a maggot wriggling in a carcass as Warriors tried to force the dagger past her hold on his arm. “You have nothing left to lose by giving up.”

Her grip tightened around Warriors’s wrist as the sound of crunching bone echoed through Hyrule’s ears. Warriors still didn’t scream as Cia launched him backwards, directly into Hyrule, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Cia grabbed the morningstar from the wall, the sharp tip coming loose to hang at her feet like a flail. Hyrule grabbed Warriors broken forearm, healing it as he dragged them both up the best he could while still handcuffed. The tip of the scepter broke through the floor they had laid on moments before.

Hyrule circled them as Warriors charged Cia again, ducking under the end of the flail. A closer melee fight would go in his favor with a ranged weapon like that. Warriors utilized his new speed, ducking under a swipe of Cia’s claws and bringing up the iron dagger through her extended arm. She hissed as he got in another hit on her chin, slamming her backwards into the wall and sending glass all over the floor.

Cia tried to swing the scepter back around. Hyrule caught the wire, tugging it taught so the spike wouldn’t wrap back around to where Warriors shoved the sorceress to the floor. He utilized the opening, pinning her to the floor with a dagger through her hand. Glass shards dug into Cia’s back as Warriors grabbed the wooden stake from his bag, raising to plunge it into her chest. Hyrule ran to them, blood running cold as Cia laughed.

“Maybe I'll make you spend a century or two in a coffin until the rest of them are dead. Or until what’s left of them is gone.”

She raised her legs to plant them against Warriors stomach, kicking him back with such force that the wall shattered from the force, breaking the bookshelves and burying Warriors in a pile of novels and tomes. Hyrule grabbed a shard of wood, leaping forward to plunge it into her skin—

Cia turned at the last moment, batting him away with the serrated tip of her scepter. Hyrule skipped across the floor like a stone, splinters biting into his arms as he rolled, unable to stop his momentum and haul himself up. She snarled, pulling the wood out of her shoulder, only a couple inches from her heart.

Hyrule blinked the blood from his eyes, hair still matted from the head wound already sealing itself up. Cia brought down the scepter’s pronged tip, pinning him like a bug to a windshield. She twisted the point into his stomach as Hyrule tried in vain to scramble backwards, unable to move his arms with the chains on his wrists. He couldn’t heal himself if he was impaled like this. Cia stomped a high heel directly into his skull, making his ears ring. He swore he could hear the chime of fairies.

A blur of blue was Hyrule’s only warning as Warriors wretched out the knife still stuck in Cia’s hand, dragging it all the way down her arm. The wound healed the second he removed the dagger, trying to stab her again. Her eye glowed again as she danced away from every blow, blocking it with her scepter or effortlessly twirling out the way.

“The helm splitter of the one untouched by time.” She mocked as Warriors missed again. “A werewolf’s lunge. The angel’s slash.” Cia recited as he rushed forward, swinging left and right before Cia met the next attack with her staff. “The wild one’s parry.” She quoted as Warriors ran the dagger down to nick her fingers before she abruptly dropped the weapon to her other hand, bringing up the scepter to slam into his face. Cia laughed again like nails on a chalkboard, fingers curling around Warrior’s throat and hoisting him off the ground as he tried in vain to kick her away. Hyrule’s head spins, pressing his hands to the now open wound on his stomach, trying to stifle the flare of the magic.

“I can see your every move before you make it.” Cia’s eye flashes a familiar blue again. Too familiar.

The subtle blue light when Twilight comes back because he forgot his keys and Time is already handing them to him as he rushes back out the door. The gleam when Sky’s wings accidentally knock over a cup from the shelf in their cramped apartment and Time catches it before it hits the ground. The shine when Time sidesteps Legend trying to splash him. The glow when Time reminds Wind to tie his shoes seconds before he trips over the laces.

Cia arched her brow as Hyrule got to his feet. Warriors clawed at the hands around his throat, trying to pry away Cia’s hands from his neck. She swung the flail in the traveller’s direction, eyes widening as Hyrule dodged. She yanked the club backwards, the edge hitting him on the back of the head. His neck turned at the wrong angle with a crunch— he didn’t stop walking towards her. The scepter's blade dug into his skin, slash after slash. Hyrule kept walking. He tugged the line closer. Cia lost her balance for only a moment, eyes wide with surprise. It’s the only opening Hyrule needed to strike, leaping forward to wrap the chains of pure iron from his wrists around her neck.

She screamed, high and shrill, as the iron burned trying to peel away the metal as it bit through her skin. The smell of burning flesh filled the room as she tried in vain to elevate Hyrule’s hold. She slashed wildly at his face, neck, the arms holding her in place only to see the wounds healing faster than she could make them.

The stake returned to Warriors hands as he drove it through her chest. Cia’s face disintegrated, frozen in a shocked expression as her body turned to ash. Hyrule stumbled as the weight evaporated, Warriors almost falling on top of him. Cia’s remains fell to the floor in a heap of soot, making them both cough. For a moment they both stood there, blinking dust out of their eyes. Hyrule wasted no time maneuvering himself out of the handcuffs, dropping them to the floor with a clang.

Warriors snickered hysterically, wiping the blood off his face and blinking it out of his eyelashes. “She never saw you coming.”

“Well soulmates aren’t the only people who care about you.” Hyrule rasped, nervous energy leaving him breathless and shaky as Warriors helped him to his feet.

“Thank Hylia for that,” Warriors agreed as Hyrule thumbed away the wounds on his neck. “She’ll have placed precautions against vampires—”

“But not for me.” Hyrule confirmed, snatching the scepter from the pile of soot and dusting off his hands. “Legend is most likely surrounded by too much running water for you to get around. I’ll get him out. You find Time, he can probably guide you through to the others.”

Warriors gaze didn’t leave the ashes on his boots. “If he’s—”

“Your soulmates, right?” Hyrule interrupted with a light bump against his shoulder, forcing Warriors to look at him. “You’d feel it if he was gone. She knew they were too valuable to lose. There’s still a chance. For all of them.”

Legend breathes, deep and slow with agony in every gasp. The water is thick in his gills to the point where he questions if it’s water at all. His eyes can’t adjust to the dark which doesn’t make sense. No matter how deep he has dived, no matter the constricting feeling of oceanic pressure, his eyes have always adjusted within minutes. It’s been hours now. It must have been. The concept of time avoids him like sand melting through his fingers, dissipating into a texture so fine he can’t even feel the grains under his claws.

Legend’s gills expand and contract, catching in his hair. He can’t crane his neck up anymore so he presses his forehead to a cool surface. He thought it was a mirror at first, since it was so smooth, but he can’t see his reflection. He runs nails against the glass, as if scratching enough will make the cracks appear. He had never understood not knowing what was up or down. Legend had been able to rotate and navigate through anything, anywhere in the water his whole life. Now he can’t even twitch his tail without pain ricochetting up his spine. Needles echo like ripples down his back.

It’s okay. He can get out of this. He can get through this. He always has. He always will. He’s always been scared. Fear is as constant as the heartbeat thumping like a war drum in his ears, telling him to move. He can’t move now. And that constricts his throat closed more than air ever could.

But fear has never stopped or frozen Legend in place. It’s kept him fast enough to keep up with the currents. It’s kept him sharper than his claws. He can’t tear through anything in his way like Twilight, he can’t just fly out of reach of his problems like Sky. But Legend sinks. Deeper, and deeper into the instinct that keeps him alive. It always has. It always will. He needs fear. He always did.

He doesn’t want to need it.

Legend chokes on a sob that tastes like saltwater, lungs contracting over and over again as his throat burns. He’s more sore than he ever has been, swimming fast and far enough away from anything that could have hurt him. It’s not the ache in his arms from spending all day hoisting himself out of the water to jumpscare Hyrule, even though he never flinches. It’s not the pain from spending too long above water, talking to Four until his voice is so raw he can’t get out another sentence. It’s not the dry, itching feeling when he inhales too much air when he laughs at some stupid thing Warriors said.

Crack.

He needs them more than anything. It’s terrifying in a way he never thought could be. The horror feels different than it used to now, though. That’s what’s scary, it’s not familiar. It’s not the experience with fear he’s always had. 

Crack.

It's straightforward, and easy, and comfortable in its own twisted way. Fishing hooks teach you to dodge better. Nets teach you how to chew, and claw your way out. Teeth in your back tell you how to watch without looking.

Snap.

It’s more understandable than learning what he needs to feel when Hyrule trusts him so completely to be the one to teach him how to swim. How to say thank you when Wild drops him down a honeyed apple just because he knows they are his favorite. What to say to make Wind know that he loves hearing him hum when he puts his feet in the water. Fear has never taught him to love them the way they love him. The way they deserve to be loved. 

Crack. Crack.

No fear has made him feel safer than Wind dropping rings or any other shiny things he finds under the waves because he knows Legend will see the glint from the sun hitting the surface. No terror has made him feel as happy as he does when he manages to avoid a lecture from Time by swimming too deep to hear his muffled complaints from under the water. No amount of panic has ever made him laugh as much as ruining Twilight’s attempts to skip a stone farther than Wild. 

Crunch. Crack. Crack.

God Legend wants to get out of here. He can’t stay here without telling them. He would learn through peeled away scales and being flayed alive in his own skin. He could learn with nicks over his neck like a second pair of gills. He would love them the way they should be, no matter how much it hurt. Legend would learn in all the worst ways he already has if he could just—

Crackcrackcrack—

Light splinters from where his hands are pressed against the tank. His ears pop as the pressure inverts, spilling out of the water. The drops still hanging from his scales makes him shiver as the sudden rush of warm air envelops him. His body wrenches back and forth out of his control like a fish out of water, tail flopping uncomfortably hard against the ground as glass digs between his scales.

A freckled face blurs into focus, eclipsing the harsh lights overhead. Hyrule set down a scepter of some kind with a metallic crash. He picks out the shards like leaves from a clover, healing as he does. Legend smiles so wide his face hurts.

“What took you so long?”

His mouth is dry. His head hurts. Not the kind of hurt when the light’s too bright coming through the window in the morning. Not the twinge behind his eyes when he uses his powers for too long. Not a headache like he’s been squinting… It’s splitting. A puncture, a piercing, a throbbing ache that overwhelms the pain of putting one foot in front of another. He doesn’t have his shoes on. There’s frayed, red, skin around his ankles. Rope burn makes his wrists itch.

There’s something soft wrapped around his head. Warrior’s scarf sways in the corner of his vision.

“Time?!” Wind. His voice is muddled, high with panic. Sky’s feathers are lower than they should be, almost brushing the tips of his toes. Another weight joins his other side, holding him upright.

“We can worry about him later when we’re—”

“Not being chased by multiple guards with an extremely injured person?” Wind suggests brightly with just a touch of mania.

“Yes, anywhere but here.”

“Is everyone alive?” A worried voice calls from the end of the hall, rapidly approaching to the point of tripping over their own feet in an attempt to not barrel over everyone. Wind takes the brunt of the force, almost tipping over before Twilight tugs him upright. He doesn’t seem too offended, attention instantly drawn to the steed at Twilight’s side.

“Epona!”

“Did we kill her?” Twilight asks, breathless with hands on his knees. 

“Yes, now can we—”

“Hey!” Four calls from around a corner, skidding to a stop and out of breath. “Where’s Wild?”

“South hallway clearing a path.” Warriors answers instantly, readjusting his grip on Time’s shoulder.

“Did we kill Cia?”

“Yes!” Multiple of them answer at the same time.

“Great, has anyone seen—?”

“Legend!”

The five strings finally coalesced in his vision. Sky’s weight at his shoulder was replaced by Twilight’s in an instant. Time managed to lift his head for long enough to see the Veteran’s tail balanced between Hyrule and the Skyloftian. 

“Yes, yes I’m alive was there ever any doubt?”

“I mean—”

“Don’t answer that,” Legend cut Wind off. “Now can we please get far away from this place before Wild forgets I told him to wait to blow the—”

A resounding boom in the opposite direction made half of the heads of their party swivel towards the unknown threat. Warriors just sighed and started walking. The eight of them followed suit, breathlessly giggling in hysteria under their breaths and shushing each other as they came across patrols that ignored them entirely. Hyrule frowned in concentration as the pulsing purple of the scepter he held made their steps soundless.

The doors open with a bang that makes Time wince, but the streets are empty, dawn light glistening as the stars disappear. The sun hovers over the tops of the buildings, the first rays gleaming over his face. Warriors hisses beside him, using the scarf to cover a bit more of himself. Wind notices, cursing under his breath.

“Do not tell me you idiots forgot a way to get us out of here,” Legend said, incredulous as Sky blinked, looking to Twilight, who looked to Warriors who looked to Wind as if just realizing he shouldn’t have been there. The sudden sound of screeching tires cut through the serene morning as a huge van ran through the intersection, blaring a horn. There skid marks on the pristine concrete as the car door opened before the vehicle had even been put into park. A blonde girl with long hair and violet eyes that looked surprisingly similar to Legend burst out, mouth open to shout something very dramatic. She set eyes on all of them and hesitated, turning to someone behind her. 

“I thought you said they could all fit!” Fable stage whispered. Flora leaned out from behind her to get a better look, some kind of tablet still clutched in her hands. 

“Well I didn’t account for the angel not being able to close his wings due to his injuries or the horse—”

Twilight took a step forward to argue before the mare in question pushed him into the open car doors. 

“GET IN THE DAMN CAR!” Tetra interrupted, drawing a pistol that made everyone in the immediate vicinity duck for cover. She fired off a few shots into the horde that had somehow formed behind them, guards swarming through the doors and chasing Wild, who sprinted into the open vehicle without hesitation. A couple more explosions sounded off behind them as Legend shook Hyrule’s shoulders to get him to run faster.

“Go, go go!”

Warriors and Time half stumbled, half sprinted into the van that was still rolling. Wind pushed them all in, laughing like a maniac as the bits of burning fortress came hurtling towards them at a concerning velocity.

“If there is so much as a scratch on this car she is never going to forgive me! Get in!”

Four yelped as Sky grabbed him by the hood, slamming the door shut just as a volley of bullets hit the side. Tetra floored the gas, sending them all forward with a jolt. 

“Seatbelts!” Dawn chimed from the backseat, taking the scepter out of Hyrule’s hands and firing off some spell that fired off eight fractals of light behind them. Even the flash reflected in the rearview mirrors was too bright to look at. Tetra swerved down another back road, whipping the car so hard that everyone went flying. Dusk caught Wild by the shoulders before he was launched out of the still open window.

“Would it kill you not to slam on the breaks—”

“There are five centaurs behind us.” Lullaby helpfully informed them, stepping away from the back window as an arrow cracked it.

“ARTEMIS GET BACK IN THE CAR—!”

“Four,” The queen in question responded with a grin, as she launched a light arrow out of the open window in retaliation.

“What—?! Oh.” The smith asked before peering out the window to catch sight of Epona ramming a centaur into a moving car. 

“Who are you all again?” Time slurred, the car suddenly growing quiet despite Tetra honking as she ran a stoplight. A woman with twin braids framing her face smiled, holding up a badge of some kind with a pyramid symbol. “Transdimesional Reality Investigational Force! We just have a few questions for you.”