everyone wears masks (some people just have more of them)

by vfee

Summary:

An exploration of all the game's masks, while taking a look at the relationships Link forms with the people of Clock Town. (It's abundantly clear that I'm a fan of Tatl.)

Notes:

Hi, everyone! This is my first fanwork for anything, ever, so tbh I don't know what I'm doing

Chapter 1: Maskless

If he doesn’t look up, Termina isn’t that bad. It’s a little uncanny seeing other people’s faces running around this strange world, but he can almost pretend that they’re all somewhere new, some town far away from Ganondorf, some place where things aren’t perfect but they’re a bit more okay. He misses Navi though, and even Tatl’s soft yellow glow can’t make him feel better. (She’s still kind of mean, too, though she is growing on him. He can tell she misses her brother just like how he misses Navi.)

Sometimes he does look up, though, usually around the time the only people left all have hysteria stretching their familiar faces into something that pulls at Link’s gut. The moon looms above, terrible and grim and baring its teeth at the people below. How did things get this way? Does the goddess push him into dangerous places, or does catastrophe simply follow him around? It’s difficult to tell.

The Song of Time makes things okay again, just for a little while.

Chapter 2: Deku Scrub Mask

He relives his first transformation in his nightmares so often that he can recite the event by heart. It starts with the rustle of leaves, slowly at first, but faster and faster as in his mind’s eye, a Deku Scrub taller than he can fully make out runs in his direction. His flesh hardens into wood, his blood thickens to sap. His first vocalization, a scream lodged in the back of his throat, makes him run cold. His body is gone, snatched away, twisted into something foreign. I should be used to this by now, he thinks, I should be used to hands that aren’t mine. As strange and unfamiliar as his older body felt, it is nothing compared to the Deku Scrub.

His feelings toward the mask are less hostile these days. He still has nightmares when he gives himself a moment to rest, but they’re becoming mixed with new horrors as the days go by. The Deku Scrub is almost... comfortable , when he lets his instincts take over. All touch sensations are distant and far away, and he’s so lightweight that he can drift through the air on petals. It would be fun, in any other circumstance. It would be fun if he’d had a choice. 

As tough as the bark of his new skin is, he can’t help but realize this is a child’s body—an actual child’s body, not a child like him. This was a child that played, a child soft with affection and warmth, a body not used to hard physical exertion. A body that had never seen troubled days, struck dead and puppeted by a stranger. He knows the Skull Kid put him in the Deku Scrub’s body, but he can’t help but feel like the intruder. Every scratch he gets, every chip in this new wooden body is a reminder that he’s thrown someone’s kid into war. 

He puts the mask on and looks at the Moon from the rooftops. I have to do this , he tells himself, I have to use this body to save these people. It never really makes him feel better about things, but sometimes, on his most melancholic days, he hears a quiet response: It's okay; I want to help. 

Chapter 3: Great Fairy Mask

Link secretly loves this mask. It is a mask that, at its core, is for helping someone. As much as the Great Fairies have helped him, it makes him happy to know that he can slip on this mask and help return the favor. He wishes it was this easy to help everyone.

He also, deep down, harbors a fondness for the way an ocean of pink hair billows out behind his head, floating in an invisible, otherworldly breeze. It makes him feel beautiful, even with the terrible face beneath the hair.

Sometimes he uses this mask to scare Tatl, when she’s being a bit ruder than normal. All he has to do is turn away while she’s distracted with her own bickering, slip on the mask, turn in her direction, and wait for her to notice him. It’s always funny when she dings in alarm, though he makes sure not to laugh.

“Don’t do that!” she yelps, distracted from her current tirade. He smiles underneath the mask, far broader than he would if she could see his face. Vibrant pink locks flow behind his head, swirling hypnotically on the currents of magic. It’s always disappointing to take the mask off, and, right as the hair comes into view, watch it freeze into carved wood.

Chapter 4: Kafei's Mask

Link has been many things before, but he's never been a private investigator. Kafei's mask fits snugly over his face, earning him a myriad of reactions from Clock Town's citizens. 

"It's weird," Link says, more to himself than anyone else. But he likes to include Tatl, because otherwise he starts thinking about how lonely he is. "I don't recognize his face."

"Why would you?" Tatl asks from her reclined position on the top of his head. It had taken her awhile to trust him enough to rest on his head--or perhaps her pride had gotten in the way--but he couldn't deny the rush of warmth he'd felt toward her the first time she'd settled on top of his cap. "My wings get tired, sue me," she'd said, like it wasn't important. He'd tucked the memory away, saving it for one of those days where he woke up with his insides scooped out, replaced with a yawning chasm of melancholic emptiness

"I recognize most of the people in Clock Town. Anju has the Chicken Lady from Kakariko's face."

"I have no idea what that means," Tatl retorts, "and before you try to explain it to me, remember that I don't care. Why are you going out of your way for this Kafei kid, anyway?"

"His mom misses him," Link says simply, but maybe it's more than that. Maybe he wants practice finding people, so he can find Navi. He can't tell how selfish his motivations are, or if it matters. If he does the right thing for a selfish reason, it's still good, right? "Plus, my dad used to be great at finding lost kids."

"Your dad? Didn't think you had one of those."

Link thinks of the Great Deku Tree as he saw him last, withered and gray. He wonders if he'd be proud of him. "He's gone now."

"...Sorry."

"It's okay." His voice quivers, and he hates himself a little for it. It wasn't okay, and he still thought about how he was too late to save the Great Deku Tree, and how never having enough time was becoming a running theme in his life. 

"Let's go check by the Laundry Pool. I thought I saw some purple-haired kid there, and how many of those can there possibly be?" Tatl's tone is bored, but Link recognizes the gesture for what it is.

Later, he makes a note in his journal to do something nice for her in return, if he can figure out what she likes.

 

Chapter 5: Keaton Mask

The Keaton Mask is cute, but there's something about finding Kafei's tragic face behind it that makes stomping around for keatons a lot less fun. 

"The last time I had one of these, I didn't have time to look for keatons," Link explains to Tatl, looking over Termina Field. He remembers having seen a ring of moving bushes, but he can't remember where. Maybe they were back in town? 

"We don't have time to look for keatons now, but that doesn't seem to be stopping you," Tatl mutters close to his ear. It looks like it might rain, and nowadays she tended to stick close to his side so she could slip under his hat. Link silently hopes it doesn't rain; sometimes Tatl yanks on his hair when the larger raindrops startle her. He wasn't sure how to bring it up, or if he should. He has a suspicion it would embarrass her.

"Maybe the bushes were on a particular day? I can't remember," he says, ignoring her complaint. He kills a Chu Chu for its magic jar and plops down in the stunted undergrowth. Tatl bobs in front of his face, so he holds out his hand for her to land in. "Did I ever tell you that I kind of worked for the Happy Mask Salesman?"

"That creepy guy with the," she makes a gesture toward Link's mouth, "smile?"

"Well, the version of him in Hyrule, anyway," he admits. 

"Ah. 'Hyrule,' right," Tatl snorts. "That totally real place you came from."

"Yeah, there. Anyways, I used to find people who would buy his masks." He taps the wooden face of the Keaton Mask. "This was the first one I ever sold, to a guard in Kakariko for fifteen rupees. He said it was for his son, but I caught him wearing it himself plenty of times."

"Cute story," Tatl mutters, bored. "Can we go back to looking for your stupid bushes--or, better yet, saving the world?"

"I think those bushes really were in Clock Town, now that I think about it." To his left, he can see the Chu Chu reforming, and slices it with his sword just as it comes back to life. 

When he eventually finds the keaton (in Clock Town, like he'd thought!) he definitely doesn't gloat to Tatl about netting a Heart Piece.

Chapter 6: Bunny Hood

This one is familiar. Covered in faux fur soft enough that if left to his own devices, Link could spend ages rubbing one of the long ears between his fingers. He’d wanted to keep the other Bunny Hood so badly; he’d wanted it more than anything. He’d wanted it like how he wanted some of the soft toys he saw children playing with in Castle Town, wanted it like he wanted to be back home with Saria. Those things weren’t for him, though. His hands were for fighting, not playing. So when that postman guy had offered him a crazy amount of money for the Hood, Link gave it over with a smile. He wasn’t made for soft things.

Now that he was in Termina, even with that moon looming over his head, he wondered if things could be different. 

The Hood fit over his green cap, long ears gently swaying in the breeze. He could go out to Termina Field and run for ages, with only the wind faster than him. Tatl thought it was a waste of time, but time came cheap these days. He could spend the whole day running, then pull out his Ocarina and spend the whole day over again. What did it matter if he took a little time to be ten years old again? 

Chapter 7: Blast Mask

It's a little contrived, how he obtains this mask. He's hanging out near one of the Bomber kids, watching him unsuccessfully try to pop a balloon. 

"Where are his parents?" Link asks Tatl, wondering if he should get involved. 

"I dunno, Mr. Ten-Year-Old, you're not the picture of a happy home life yourself," Tatl snarks, but she tugs on his ear a bit to let him know she's kidding. He hadn't been offended, but he's grateful anyway. 

An old lady enters Clock Town, stopping to pat the guard kindly on the shoulder. She's one of the only people he's seen coming and going, and he wonders how she deals with the monsters. Maybe she's secretly really strong. 

"What's up with that guy?" Tatl drawls, watching a man carrying a sack hop from one foot to the other. They watch as the man and old lady intersect, and Link knows something is wrong before the old lady even has time to shout. 

He surges to his feet, sword unsheathed, and pelts after the man, feet digging into the hard-packed soil. The thief isn't very fast, and Link slashes open the back of his shirt as a warning. He doesn't stop. With a grimace, Link quickly draws his sword over the back of the man's legs. He hits the ground instantly, blood already pooling beneath him. Link feels a bit sick to his stomach as he extricates the old woman's bag from the thief's white-knuckled death grip. 

"Is there a doctor we can take him to?" Link yells to the apparently indifferent guard, who had watched the whole scene without so much as moving. 

The guard slowly walks over, watching the man squirm on the ground, pasty-faced and moaning. "Yeah, I've got something." He lifts the man up by one arm and drags him through the gate, pushing him out of town. "The goddess should cure him, if he meets her."

"That's cold," Tatl says, her voice low. Link can't say anything past the lump in his throat. He's battled a long time, but it isn't often he has to wound another person.

He notices the old woman is watching him carefully, waiting to see if he will return her property or if he'll run off, too. The Bomber kid is also watching, blowgun trained at Link's head, but given how much trouble the kid has popping a balloon, Link isn't super worried. He gently returns the parcel to the woman, trying to comfort himself with the grateful smile she gives him. 

"Here," she says, "I have to give you something." She hands him a round black mask with a skull on it. "Careful, though. It packs a punch." She winks at him and wanders deeper into town. Link slips the mask on and immediately smells gunpowder. He very carefully takes the mask back off. 

"What?" Tatl asks, taking in his nervous expression.

"That's a bomb."

"For your face? Goddess, I don't understand humans."

Link isn't sure he understands them either. He carefully puts the mask away, unsure if he plans on ever using it. Maybe... another day. 

 

Chapter 8: All-Night Mask

The All-Night Mask is one of Link's more dangerous ones. The first time he tried it on, he hadn't known what to expect. Maybe it was like the Sun's Song, or maybe it kept daylight from breaking. 

"Shouldn't you be working on unthawing those Gorons?" Tatl asks him, poking out from under his hat to watch the snow fall. 

"It's hard to keep track of time in dungeons," he explains. "I want to know exactly how this mask works."

Tatl groans, unamused. "Some of them only work in really specific situations. What if this is one of them?"

"Then we'll find out tonight," he replies simply, so used to her sarcastic complaints that he can hear her undertone of worry. "I'll reset the three days after this. We're going to save the Gorons and your brother."

"Ugh, fine. I'm taking a nap." She tucks herself back under his hat, and, after a second, he feels her patting down his hair to make a more comfortable spot. 

He looks up at the moon with its bared teeth and hard eyes. He misses Hyrule's moon, full and warm and glowing. He had the faintest memories of Mido telling him it was made of cheese. Link wasn't sure what Termina's moon was made of, and the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to know. 

It's chilly, so he distracts himself by building a fire. His hands are shaky with cold as he strikes the flint he always keeps with him, and he scolds himself. He should have made the fire far earlier in the night. 

"We should have been making fires for the Gorons!" he exclaims, struck so suddenly with the idea that he accidentally sends sparks into his lap. 

"I am sleeping," Tatl mumbles from under his cap.

Fire started, he crouches beside it and tries to think. Are Gorons affected by heat? They live near volcanoes, so it doesn't bother them, but are they immune? Do they have blood? Do they become brittle in the cold? Can they melt? He's not sure. It always seemed rude to ask. 

He can build fires for the Gorons tomorrow, but secretly, he hopes tomorrow doesn't come. Maybe the All-Night Mask is as powerful as he hopes, and maybe the sky will still be moonlit when he wakes up. He gently takes off his cap, Tatl still nestled inside, and sets it near the fire. He lays down on the ground beside her, staring up at the moon. 

His head is too busy for sleeping. He used to sleep a lot, enough that Navi teased him for it when they first met, but it's more difficult now. Sometimes he can't quit thinking about the people he's responsible for or the things he needs to do, and sometimes he can't quit thinking about what happens if he messes up. 

Tonight is different. His mind is blank, blank, blank, a sea of absolutely nothing. He doesn't think, he just lays on his back and stares at the moon until he sees the sun rising out of the corner of his eye. He feels too weird to be tired, feels too much like he's a part of the ground below him, ground that doesn't need to sleep. 

Tatl jingles in front of his face, but Link stays where he is. He feels wrong.

"Um, hello? Anyone home?" Tatl asks, annoyed. 

Link can't find it in him to say anything. His fingers thick and clumsy, he bumps the mask partially if his face, just past his nose. As soon as it's off-center, he feels like a person again. A tired person who wants to take a nap, but a person. He carefully puts the mask down on the ground beside him and sits up. 

"I don't like that one," he admits. Tatl waits for him to explain. "It feels...weird. I couldn't sleep with it on."

"Oh. It makes you stay out all night, not the moon. That's useless."

"It's not totally useless. What about that old lady with the boring stories?" 

"I swear to the goddess, if you use this mask for something as dumb as listening to kid's stories, I am going to scream."

Link looks down at the mask, turning it over in his hands. "She's lonely, Tatl."

"She's a stranger! She's a stranger that dies every three days because the moon is falling! Remember?" The bored annoyance in her tone has become something real and angry. "I know your bleeding heart can't stand a sad face, but that's not helping anyone! It's not even helping her, in the long run!"

"Maybe it's helping me," Link says quietly, unable to look at Tatl. "Maybe helping these people helps me."

"How?" she demands, her voice hard.

"I just...want something to hold onto, I guess." He's not sure what he feels. It's something compulsive in him, some sort of animal urge to help these people with their small, insignificant tasks. It's easier to save these people when he knows their wants and desires, when he remembers how they thanked him or how they patted him on the head. It's hard to build up the courage to save strangers, but it's easy to find it in him to save his friends. Maybe he's a bad person because of it. Instead, he says, "I'm going back to the Stock Pot Inn to rest. I'll reset and save the Gorons soon."

"Good. I'm not trying to be an ass, I just--" Tatl cuts herself off, clearly frustrated with herself and with him. "I don't know. I guess you can do what you want." 

They walk back to the inn in a still, sullen silence that crawls in his throat and forms the tell-tale knot in his throat, the one that precedes tears. When he curls up in bed, he covers his face with his arm and cries silently until he falls asleep.

 

Chapter 9: Bremen Mask

Notes:

You may be thinking, "isn't this chapter out of order?" (Yes, yes it is)

Out of all the people Link could have found in Termina, he never expected to find Guru-Guru, the man who hated the Song of Storms. He's by the Laundry Pool (where Link seems to find everyone these days) playing his phonograph so loudly he can hear it across town. 

"I took the dog's mask," Guru-Guru admits, the moonlight glinting off the whites of his eyes. Link thinks about comforting him, but decides against it. He doesn't want to stand too close to a man that wound up. 

"Why?" Link says quietly, in lieu of comfort. "The dog never did anything to you."

Guru-Guru's music screeches to a halt, the sudden quiet harsher on his ears than Link expects. "All he had to do was exist," the man spits, his face blank. Link's wishes he'd start scowling again. "His talent mocked me. He was too good, and I was never good enough. No one ever cared about me like they did him--him, a dog! How does a dog command more respect than me!"

Tatl flicks her wings under Link's hat. He can hear her muttering something in a poisonous tone, but he can't make out her words. 

"So you stole the mask." Link finishes the story for Guru-Guru, unwilling to drag this out any longer than it has to. 

"Why don't you take it?" The man suggests, voice sugar sweet. "I don't want it; it never seemed to work for me. Maybe you're just like that little dog, hm?"

Link carefully separates the mask from the man's tight grip. It's a bird's face, beautifully painted. He can see why the dog had loved it. It is strange, he thinks, strange how much jealousy warps people. Or maybe Guru-Guru has always been a bad man, he doesn't know. 

"Thanks," Link says, even though he isn't grateful. He feels guilty for even holding the mask, guilty that he has benefitted from the dog's misfortune. As much as he hates it, something tells him he needs all the masks he can carry.

"You gonna make the Skull Kid march to your Ocarina?" Tatl asks him later. 

Link laughs. "You think he would? Imagine us, marching under the moon." He looks up at the moon's grinning face. "Maybe we can be friends one day."

"Goddess, you're an optimist," Tatl mutters. "Whatever. As long as we save Tael."

 

Chapter 10: Mask of Scents

Link can't fathom why the Deku Butler would give him something so precious as the Mask of Scents, but he's never claimed to understand adults. The Deku Butler looks at him with something impossibly warm and kind on his face, some far away expression of grief and affection. It is the kind of face Link saw on Saria. 

"Why? Why would you give this to me?" he asks the butler. His throat is strangely tight, like he's going to cry. "Wasn't this...wasn't this your son's treasure?"

"Yes." The Deku Butler looks away, his face blank. Link still hasn't gotten the hang of reading Deku expressions, and it's only the Butler's eyes, shiny with tears, that let him know the man is just as emotional as he is. "He loved to search for mushrooms in this mask. I used to tell him his face would stick that way, he wore it so much." He briefly reaches out, like he's going to take the mask back. Link pushes it in his direction--he can understand why the man would want to keep the memory of his son close by. The Deku Butler sighs and doesn't take the mask.

"You remind me of him," the Butler says, serious and final. "This mask...has helped me grieve, but I believe my son would want me to move on. I cannot waste my days waiting for him to return to me, so--so I give this mask to you, in hopes that you will love it as my son did. All I can ask is that you take care of it, and maybe…" The stoic man almost looks embarrassed. "Please visit me, sometime."

"Yes, of course," Link breathes. The Mask of Scents feels heavy with importance, like it carries as much of a ghost as the Deku Mask itself does. For the first time, he wishes he could wear two masks at a time, so the Deku Scrub could wear his beloved mask once more. "I swear I'll come visit."

The Deku Butler bundles him up in a hug, and even though he is made of wood, it is one of the warmest things Link has felt in a long time. The knot in his throat tightens when they say goodbye. 

He places the Mask of Scents over his face and looks up at Tatl. "So? What do you think?" He has to hold back a giggle at the realization that the mask makes him oink a bit.

"It looks like your normal face," she drawls. 

He gasps in mock outrage. "Mean!" Oink. "Rude!" Oink. "Cruel! How could you say--" oink "something so terrible!" 

Tatl snorts, unable to hold back a laugh. "Well, at least you're happy." She pauses, thoughtful. "You think you'll be able to sniff out Magic Mushrooms with that thing?"

"That makes scents to me."

Tatl stops in mid-air. "Link, please." 

They burst into peals of laughter, giggles rolling over the forest.

 

Chapter 11: Goron Mask

Being a Goron is more difficult than Link anticipated. His limbs are unwieldy, and every step he takes is almost more effort than it's worth. There is some instinct in him, some instinct of stone, that wants to sit down and watch time pass, watch the wind and the rain weather his stone features into a sculpture. It's different than anything he's ever experienced. 

As an adult, he felt slow and clumsy, but being a Goron is something new entirely. He is not just slow, he is ponderous. He isn't sure how he's going to fight, and even Tatl with her bright light is difficult to follow. He's simply too slow to keep an eye on her. His warrior's instincts are screaming in tandem with Darmani's, but he is too stiff to do anything about it. He collapses onto the ground, exhausted from doing nothing.

"Uh? You gonna be okay, buddy?" Tatl's voice is both mocking and worried. He kind of likes that about her, how her tone can be so incongruous with her intent. 

"...Yes." He has to force the word between stone lips, his tongue thick in his mouth. He tries to stand, but nothing happens. 

Tatl hovers in front of her face, a hummingbird to his slurred senses. "Come on, you need to stand up. One foot at a time." He looks at her blankly. "You can do it."

It's the first time she's ever encouraged him, and although standing seems beyond his abilities, he presses one stony knee into the earth and forces himself upward. He is lifting a mountain into the sky, and it isn't until he's on his feet that he realizes with a Goron's strength, a mountain isn't all that heavy. He's thinking of himself as flesh-and-bone, thinking of what his bones and muscles are capable of supporting. He is stone, firmament: invulnerable rock and impossible strength. 

He staggers over to a white Wolfos, his arms still uncoordinated, but this time he is strong enough that an errant flick of his hand is enough to pulp the Wolfos's skull. Blood and flesh spatter across his chest, but he can barely feel it. He turns and slowly grins at Tatl. "I...did...it!"

"Goddess, that's creepy," she mutters. "Good job, I guess. I knew you could do it and all that." 

He looks up at the mountains in the distance. Moving this far has felt like a marathon, but he isn't through yet. He just has to remind himself that stone doesn't get tired.

 

Chapter 12: Romani's Mask

Once, before leaving the forest, Link had asked Saria what it meant to grow up. It was such a foreign concept to him back then, something whispered like an unattainable secret, something that people outside the Great Deku Tree's protection did. "Adults" were just bigger people, and there was nothing more to it than that. 

His older body only complicated things. He knew that he was bigger, stronger, and faster, but he still felt different from the other grown-ups. He was a step behind, and though Saria had always joked that he was a serious child, he'd never been able to shake the feeling that he was missing some sort of depth the adults around him had. Navi had just told him not to worry about it, and that worked for awhile, but then...she...left him. Alone. 

His child's body, too small and too slow and too uncontrolled, felt perfect for the knot in his throat, the hysteria bubbling in his gut, the feeling of a boat lost at sea. He'd watched once, in Castle Town, as a child got separated from his mother. Link hadn't understood why the boy had gone to his knees in a squalling mess of tears, but he understood now. He felt the same way, all the time, and that's why he had to find her. 

But first—but first—there was the issue of the Skull Kid and the Moon, and suddenly he was holding a goofy-looking cow's mask in his hands, Cremia looking at him expectantly. 

"It means I recognize you as an adult," she explained kindly, with Malon's face, a face he couldn't look away from or ignore even if he'd wanted to. 

He stares at her, dumbstruck. Was he grown up? Was he an adult? Had Saria been wrong? ...Was this why Navi had left him?

Tatl jingles insistently in his ear. "Say 'thank you,' idiot!" she stage-whispers, loud enough to make Cremia laugh a little. 

"...Thank you," he finally says, the words thick in his throat. He wasn't sure if he was grateful or not. He couldn't name the heavy cloud of feelings clogging his throat, the cloud of whatever had been building since Navi had left him, but it seemed to settle in his chest in a way that suggested permanence. He wonders if this is grief.

 

Chapter 13: Stone Mask

Even though it's a grievous waste of magic, Link loves looking through the Lens of Truth as much as possible. It's something he can't fully articulate, but he loves secret things, things left behind by people, things never touched, things undiscovered. In another time and place (or, since he was already there, another another time and place) he likes to think he would spend his days exploring the world. More than fighting monsters, even—secretly—more than helping people, he wants to discover things. 

"This is a waste of time," Tatl moans, and he can't tell if she's actually frustrated with him or just filling the empty air. 

"Okay, but there's a man there," he says calmly, pushing down the urge to cackle. Because there, smack in the middle of nowhere, on the road to Ikana, is a grown man wearing a lumpy mask. 

"What?" 

And that is all Tatl can say before Link is running over, more excited than he's been in days. "Hey, mister!" He waves his hands in front of the man's face, and, sure enough, he is only in view when the Lens of Truth passes over him. 

"M-me?" the man stammers quietly, pointing to himself with his free hand.

The man is named Shiro, and Link infers that he is very lonely. Link gives him a red potion and an hour of his precious time, just to listen to him babble about nothing and everything.

"And the other day, I walked right into the pirate fortress--just waltzed in, and no one ever saw me!" Shiro buries his uncovered face in the crook of his elbow. "It was awful."

"That's incredible," Link breathes, examining the Stone Mask in his hands. 

"Don't be rude!" Talts scolds, which is rich, coming from her.

"No, Mr. Shiro, you're so cool! I needed to get into the pirate fortress the other day and I couldn't and now thanks to you I can help one of my friends!" his words are running together like they do when he's excited, and despite his elation, he feels the tips of his ears burn with embarrassment. He’s rushed with memories of Navi laughing at his excitement—not the derisive kind of laughter that Mido used, but the warm sort, the kind that made his heart light in his chest.  

Shiro looks embarrassed himself, his face red like a beacon. There would be no way to miss him now. "Oh, well—" he looks away, a smile pulling at the frozen edges of his face, "it's fine if you think I'm cool… No one's ever called me 'cool' before…"

"I take it back," Tatl mutters. "You're both lame."

 

Chapter 14: Kamaro's Mask

Link isn't really sure what it means to have a legacy, but it certainly seems important to Kamaro. Link's never really thought about what happens after he dies, not really. He's thought about the consequences, sure (things left undone and people he couldn't save), but he'd never been concerned about his memory. He always just assumed he would be killed in combat and picked apart by beasts, which suited him just fine. Returning to nature seemed...peaceful.

"No, no, that's not right!" Kamaro chides, knocking Link out of his reverie. "Your hands must flow like water." Link doesn't really know what that means, but he isn't going to complain. He's only just gotten the man's spirit to drop his more esoteric form of speech.

"I'm sorry," Link apologizes. "I'm not a good dancer." 

Kamaro shakes his head. "You have excellent rhythm; don't give up." 

"Show me again?" Link asks, rocking back on his heels and trying to absorb the man's performance. There was a looseness to his joints that Link couldn't quite replicate. Even as an experienced swordsman, he feels jerky and uncoordinated next to Kamaro. "Maybe I should try to bring a dancer directly to you," Link admits, stumped. 

"I have never given up on a student, and I will not start today. I believe in you." Kamaro's voice is confident and strong. Link's face heats up inexplicably. He isn't sure why Kamaro's belief in his abilities flusters him so much, or why he cares. Link is used to people believing he can accomplish impossible things, and normally that is a heavy burden, but this feels different. Kamaro's belief is uplifting instead of stressful.

Link takes a deep breath, calming himself. There is no pressure to succeed. Nothing bad will happen if he fails. He can always try again. He relaxes his arms, letting them hang by his side. 

"I think I've got it this time," Link says, voice even and calm. For a moment, the moon doesn't exist. Navi isn't missing. He's back in Hyrule, but as an actual child, without the crushing responsibility to save the word. 

Kamaro smiles. "I am proud of you, my successor." He shows him the dance once more, patient as ever, and this time Link replicates it perfectly. 

He takes Kamaro's Mask with reverence. "I will teach your dance with the same patience you showed me," Link vows. "Thank you, Kamaro."

 

Chapter 15: Garo's Mask

"To die without leaving a corpse… That is the way of us Garo." The Garo explodes, a green sun collapsing in on itself. Link has to shield his face or risk being blinded. He shakes his head, his ears ringing.

"Are they all like this?" Tatl asks. "Seems like a sad way to live."

"I dunno; sounds peaceful to me," Link says, taking off the Garo's Mask and looking it in the eye. "You start as nothing and end as nothing."

"What, are you hitting the teenage angst stage early? The people who love you will want something to mourn, dumbass." 

The people who love him have already been left without a corpse. He left no trace when he entered Termina, though he isn't sure if time passes in Hyrule the same as it does here. Maybe no time has passed at all, and if he ever finds his way back he won't have to awkwardly explain where he's been. He's not relying on that, though. 

Tatl takes note of his silence and jangles insistently in his face. "I don't know what kind of people you have in your life, so don't get all sad on me. Remember that you have...at least one person…who will miss you if you die."

Link pauses, unsure if she's admitting what he thinks she is. "...You?"

"Don't make me admit it again."

Link can't say anything past the swell of gratitude in his chest, forceful and hard and pressing against some cold, dormant thing in his chest that is so lonely, all the time. He does have Tatl, in the same way he had Navi, and though he's still moth-eaten with grief, he thinks he's starting to love Tatl, too. 

"I'm glad you're here with me," he says instead, eternally grateful that she got trapped in that room with him. She's made this hellscape of a journey far more bearable, and that's ignoring how much she helps with combat. He's going to...miss her, when he inevitably has to leave. He shakes his head again and decides to hold that thought for another day, when he's more equipped to deal with losing another person he loves. 

"What was the tip that Garo guy gave us again?" Tatl asks. "You know, before we started waxing poetic?"

Link pauses, heat rising to his cheeks. "Um…"

"Did you forget?"

"Maybe?"

Tatl sighs like she hadn't forgotten, too. "Put the mask back on and let's find another one of these sad bastards."

"Yes ma'am!" Link says with a mock salute, sliding the Garo's Mask over his face. 

To die without leaving a corpse...may not be as peaceful as he'd imagined. Besides, he has no idea how the Garo rig their bodies to explode. 

 

Chapter 16: Couple's Mask

Notes:

Here there be tense changes (hopefully not too jarring)

Link has never been to a wedding before. He's never had the opportunity to go to one, though Navi had assured him they were lovely and someday he'd want one of his own. 

"What's 'marriage' about, anyway?" he'd asked Saria on one of his leisurely trips back to the Lost Woods (one of the days when he wanted to fool himself into believing he was still living Before Destiny). 

"Um," Saria has replied, showing a reticence she never usually showed. "I might not be the right person for this." She had looked away from Link for an uncomfortable beat before sighing, "I wish the Deku Tree was here to explain."

And of course Link had felt horrible again, like a trespasser, a disease, because it was his fault the Great Deku Tree was dead. 

Saria must've sensed his mood, because she quickly changed the subject. "Okay, so, it's a grown-up thing, and sometimes, when two people love each other a lot, they want to live together until they die. So they go make vows to stay together no matter what, and their loved ones watch, and that's pretty much marriage… I think."

"That sounds nice," Link had said, a bit wistful. "So would we get married? I love you a lot. Is it like that?"

Saria shook her head, her vivid green hair swishing about her face. "No, not a love like what we have. Sometimes adults love each other a bit differently. That's why marriage is an adult thing."

Link had thought about it, trying to wrap his head around this whole adult emotion that was beyond his grasp. "There's this pair of adults that are always dancing in Castle Town. Is that closer to what you mean?"

Saria beamed at him, her face lighting up with that proud look she got whenever she taught him something. "Yes! That's it! They're probably either married or planning on getting married. Though," she tilted her head, "I think some people don't like getting married. I don't know all the details. Marriage isn't really for the Kokiri."

And then he was in his older body, seven years later (a few days later), and Malon was thanking him for saving the ranch, and he couldn't quit looking at her. And his stomach felt bubbly and his face was hot and she was so pretty and soft and warm looking, and he was having to choke down the urge to wrap her in a hug and hold her close to him.

"You listening, Fairy Boy?" she'd asked him, her eyes bright with humor, and Link had wanted to relive that moment every day for the rest of his life. He wanted to sit in the grass with Epona at his back and listen to Malon singing with her beautiful, clear voice.

And maybe that was a bit what Saria had meant. He hadn't understood totally, but he could get why some people would want to preserve that feeling with another person. Maybe it was a way to bottle that warm glow in his chest and keep it like a locket, a reminder to cherish life and all its beautiful things. 

Anju and Kafei were nothing like that, and that's why Link didn't understand them. Kafei was so full of pride, at least it seemed to Link. What did a Sun's Mask mean when the person who made you feel alive was sad? What did any of it matter? And Anju--Anju was heartbreaking to be around. She was so deeply sad that she carried on her shoulders the air of a funeral, the feeling that something terrible had happened and there was very little anyone could do about it. 

And they kept dying for it! Kafei kept dying without his dumb mask, and Anju kept dying in tears, and Link couldn't help it because they'd both been kind to him even though they were sad, and-- Well. It was his fault, wasn't it? It was his fault everyone was reliving their last days over and over again, stuck in purgatory without their knowledge. He needed to put the whole Moon thing to rest. He needed to fix things. 

Link isn't sure how he's supposed to live that final Final Day. He knows, really, he's supposed to use that day to fight Skull Kid, but he also knows he's going to spend that battle thinking about Anju and Kafei, and how he'd rather be helping them. 

He's holding the Couple's Mask, its smooth finish reflecting the moon's sinister glow. The three days have just begun; the town is full of life once more. Tatl went under his cap when there were only five minutes left, and it's only now that she comes out to see what the holdup is about. 

"It looks like an egg," she snaps. "You've spent enough time playing matchmaker. We've got work to do." He wants to argue that Kafei and Anju were already matched together, he just put them back where they were meant to be, but the words are stuck in his throat and far too heavy to lift. 

"Tatl," Link says slowly. "What does it mean...to be in love?"

"Goddess, Link, is now the time?" 

"I guess not." Link carefully puts the mask away, almost like Tatl's right and it is an egg, and egg that will crack if he's not careful with it. Love will have to wait until Termina us saved… Even Kafei and Anju will have to wait again, even though they don't deserve it. 

"I promise," Link says in the direction of the Stock Pot Inn, "I promise I'll help you again when this is over."

Chapter 17: Captain's Hat

The Captain's Hat is heavy with both physical bulk and the mental fortitude required to use it. It doesn't cost magic to wear, not like some of his others, but there's something about the weight of responsibility that makes the Hat heavy on Link's head. It stays heavy even when it's stuffed away with the rest of his things, clinging like cobwebs to the back of his head. It's a familiar weight: the weight of someone's belief in him. He's always hated it, even though the goddess had apparently damned him to serve others from birth. 

He isn't a leader, not like what he thinks the Hat needs. That was always Zelda's schtick--and it made sense, she was a princess. Zelda always had wise words, words that made people feel okay when they were waiting for him to fix the world. Heavy, heavy; he's crumbling under some vague responsibility and it's only Zelda's reminder that he's a hero that keeps him standing. 

Link isn't sure why Captain Keeta thought he was worthy to speak with his soldiers. He could swing a sword, but he couldn't talk to people. He could kill, and yet people kept asking him to try and build things, and he was never able to explain that he wasn't made for their carefully-built lives. (He still did the best he could to make things better, not because he was a good person, not because he was the right tool for the job, but because it made him feel good when they thanked him.) 

Captain Keeta had already failed his men once. Link isn't sure why he wants to fail them again. He shudders when Captain Keeta's men salute him--or rather, they salute the face of a man they trusted, a man who had given away that trust to a stranger. Link feels betrayed on the soldiers' behalf, since they don't seem to have the wherewithal to question him. 

"Maybe we should take a break," Tatl says, gently, like she's talking to a cat in a tree and trying not to startle it. Like her words might snap him into a million little pieces that would just...blow away in the steady gusts that ran through Ikana Canyon.

Link can't answer her. His words are far, far away. He likes to imagine his voice is singing songs in the woods with Saria, that some part of him can be happy even when the rest of him is miserable. He just shakes his head and plods onward. He has some men to put to rest, because Captain Keeta couldn't. 

He grits his teeth, red-hot with a sudden, frightening rage. He jerks the mask off his face and hurls it at the dry ground, his teeth bared in a snarl. He's so angry, so angry , and he doesn't think he can stand still in the raw tide rushing through him, calling for blood. 

"Link?" Tatl asks quietly, staying at a distance. She never knows what to do with him when he's like this. She's not Navi; how could she know what to do with him? He's a killer , a woods-boy, he's bloody and bruised and the only thing he can do is put things in the ground and let them rot. 

The anger drains from him, leaving his muscles shaky and uncertain. In a way, he supposes he is putting Captain Keeta's men in the ground. He's putting them to rest, letting them sleep. He's tired of other people's responsibilities, tired in the way that makes it difficult to get up in the morning. 

He puts the mask back on. It doesn't matter; if he ignores his problems then everyone suffers, and he hasn't fallen far enough to let that happen. Someday, the Goddess is going to realize that she's squeezed him out like a sponge, that he's all dried-up and the empty husk left behind can't bear the weight of her responsibilities.

Chapter 18: Don Gero's Mask

Notes:

Well, it's been a second. I'm trans now. I got a Master's. Hope y'all're doing well. Enjoy Don Gero's Mask, ribbit!

Link almost doesn’t believe his eyes when he sees a member of the Frog Choir at the Laundry Pool. Maybe it’s a fluke, he thinks, maybe there’s just one, but Hylia seems to have made them an inseparable set, no matter the distance between them. They were made to sing together. When the freezing Goron gives him Don Gero’s Mask, Link knows exactly what it’s for. He spends three days wandering Termina like he’d never wandered before, his mind laser-focused on nothing but Frogs.

“I hate you,” Tatl mutters. “I hate you so much. We could be doing anything right about now. We could be sleeping or eating or, you know, exploring a dungeon. We could be—” she cuts herself off, and Link feels her gaze slide past him.

“We could be looking for Tael,” he finishes solemnly, holding a member of the Frog Choir in his hands and gently petting her with a forefinger.

Tatl dings at him, surprised at his insight. “So why aren't we?” she asks in a small voice. The smallest tears Link has ever seen start flowing down her face. “What…what do I have to do to convince you how important this is to me? I love him.”

Link feels his face crumple without his permission. “I’m sorry,” he says. He doesn’t know how to explain that finding masks has become some sort of wretched compulsion, that some animal part of him is hoarding them in the hopes that he’ll have everything he needs to face the Skull Kid—no, to face Majora.
“I—” he swallows a lump in his throat and turns back to her.
“Would you believe me if I told you that I think this is important? I don’t know why or how, I just… I just know.”

Tatl is silent. He knows that she doesn’t believe him, and he feels something shatter between them.

The frog, who has been glancing between them, finally says, “I’m the last of the choir. You should come hear us sing, if you can.”

The trek back toward Snowhead is arduous and starting to feel more and more pointless, but Link makes the trip all the same. He has to prove to himself and Tatl that he does these things for a reason, that his altruism has a purpose other than busywork.
His efforts are rewarded with a piece of heart, and even though Tatl seems to find that sufficient, he can’t help but remember how sad she had been. He hates himself a little more for separating them, for making Tatl live through more grief than she deserved.

Chapter 19: Mask of Truth

“Agh, fu—! I mean, agh, Hylia! What is that thing?” Tatl swore, dinging in alarm.

“Don’t be rude, Tat,” Link said serenely. He turned to the half-man, half-spider. “I apologize for my friend. You would think she’d never seen someone cursed before.”

The man-spider tried to shake his head, vibrations wiggling up the silk coming from his spinnerets. He smiled gruesomely, his mouth bleeding into carapace into flesh. “No, no, it’...sh fine,” he slurs. “I am…terrible to behold.”

Tatl gagged at the push and pull of his skin against his spider body before diving under Link’s cap. “You deal with this; I’m out,” she muttered, “What kinda fucked-up bullshit goddess-fucking—”

Link tuned out her blasphemy. As the Goddess’s chosen…something, he figured he owed Hylia that much.

“You’re cursed, right? I gotta find, uh, tokens or something to break the curse,” Link said, pushing down the excitement in his chest. He loved the golden tokens of Hylia. He loved smashing pots and climbing up walls and shooting intricately-placed skulltulas and generally being a menace. He loved checking nooks and crannies, little unseen places of the world.

Saria had once told him of the Minish, the people who left behind rupees, and there was a not-so-small part of him that hoped he would one day find one. It had borne in him the heart of an explorer, the heart of a busybody, the heart of someone who wanted to tear the world to pieces in the name of discovery. Normally he had some sort of earth-shattering quest in the way, but the spider-folk always provided incentive enough to convince whatever fairy companion was with him of their usefulness.

“How many tokens is it? One hundred? Two hundred? A thousand?” Link asked excitedly.

“Thirty, all within this housssse,” the man-spider said, apparently taken aback by Link’s enthusiasm.

“Got it, Mister! Consider those tokens as good as gone!” Link said, snapping off a perfect salute, one that Impa had drilled into him a lifetime ago.

He spent the next portion of his day growing beans and shooting and pouring out bugs and hookshotting his way to various skulltula, each token warm and comforting in his fist. It was like tangible proof that he had done a good thing. This is it, he thought, this is actionable justice. This is what being a hero is about.

When the man-spider was un-spidered, he gave Link an object he’d been waiting on ever since he started collecting masks: the Mask of Truth.

He held it in his hands for a few beats, reverently brushing his fingertips over the scarlet paint. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I’ve missed it.”

He left the swamp house, ignoring both the man and Tatl, his gaze focusing only on the mask. He beelined for the nearest Gossip Stone, the nearest piece of home.

The mask slid perfectly over his face, fitting like it was tailor-made for him. He knelt in front of the Gossip Stone, his knees squelching in the mud. It had started raining at some distant point in the past. Water ran down the Mask of Truth, tears for its single, staring eye.

He clenched his fists in the mud and grass. “Where is she?” Where is she? Where is Navi?” he asked. It was like a mantra, a prayer. “Where is she? Where is she? Where is she?”

He didn’t know how long he stayed there, muttering nonsensically at the Gossip Stone, but when he came back to his senses, his clothes were soaked with water and the sun was setting in the sky. He picked his forehead off the ground, shuddering with cold. Tatl rested on top of the Gossip Stone, looking down at him with naked concern.

“W—why won’t it speak to me?” he asked through chattering teeth. “I have the mask. I have it.”

“Maybe you’re not asking the right question,” Tatl said, her voice uncharacteristically solemn.

“How could there be any other question?” he asked her, as if she had become a mouthpiece for the Goddess. “What else is there?”

“There is Termina, and you are a fool if you think you have no one here that loves you enough to ask the same question when you leave us.” Tatl’s tone was firm, adult in a way he had never heard from her before. “You are crueler than I thought you capable if you don’t care about us."

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Is it selfish of me to want her back?” He lifted the mask off his face so he could look at Tatl, look at her without the Goddess in the way.

“No, I think it’s natural to miss someone that close to you. I don’t think there’s a satisfactory answer. She should have said goodbye. She should have told you the reason why she left. But fairies also aren’t Hylian, and aren’t bound by Hylian customs.” She fluttered closer to him. “Sometimes we are forced to wander by something inside us. We have to leave and find something or someone else to guide.”

A sob left Link’s mouth without his permission. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He wanted a way back to her, even if—even if—she had grown tired of him. Even if she didn’t love him anymore. He was a failure as a boy and a man. He was a failure as a Kokiri and a Hylian. He was nothing, he was something infinitesimally small in the universe. He was the in-between.

He heard wailing in the distance, and it was only until he felt the pressure in his throat that he realized it was a tea kettle sound coming from him, that he was weeping like everything had been taken from him.

“I want to go home!” he cried. “I’m scared!” It wasn’t fair. He was tired of being used and abandoned like an old toy.

Something warm brushed his cheek, and he realized it was Tatl trying to brush away the fat tears rolling down his face. Water dripped on her wings, bringing her to the ground. He reached out a hand and watched her stumble onto his palm.

“Sorry,” he apologized, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean for you to get wet.”

She sighed. “What am I going to do? Both my little brothers are crybabies, it seems.”

A whine escaped Link’s throat. DId she mean it? Did she love him? Would she keep him in the end, after he’d served his purpose and saved Termina?

“Please don’t leave me, Tatl,” he whispered.

Something about her glow grew hard and serious, like the very hue of her chilled. “I promise you, Link. You’re never going to be alone again. Not on my watch.”

Chapter 20: Circus Leader's Mask

When Link received the Circus Leader’s Mask, he had to stop and stare at it for a moment. The bushy, downturned eyebrows, the blank eyes, the lowered corners of the mouth—something about it made it the most miserable mask he’d ever seen.

“You know, for being made in her image, Hylians sure are ugly,” Tatl commented blithely, planting herself on the broad expanse of the mask’s forehead. “We could play tic-tac-toe on this guy.”

Link snorted despite himself. He wasn’t sure when the last time he slept was, and playing the Ballad of the Wind Fish for Toto had made him feel weepy for some reason, but if there was one thing Tatl was good at, it was distracting him into a better mood.

“Why is this a mask of an actual guy, though? Who commissioned this?” Tatl pressed. “It’s the spitting image of the Gormon brothers, so obviously they’ll, I dunno, quit harassing Cremia if you wear it, but Goddess if it isn’t creepy to make a one-to-one recreation of another person’s face.”

She put one hand on her hip and a finger over her lip to simulate a mustache, “Yes, Mr. Mask Maker, give me your finest rendition of a middle-aged man. I will pay an extra fifty rupees if he looks clinically depressed.”

Link put the mask over his face. “Yes, I—”

He and Tatl both paused before looking at each other in delight. The mask magically modulated his voice, deepening it into an exact replica of the Gormon brothers’ signature cadence.

“I would like to pay my taxes,” Link said in the Gormon brothers’ voice, thrusting his chin in the air to make himself taller.

Tatl doubled over laughing. “Ha! Say it again!” They had started to draw a crowd of Bombers, who seemed equally amused at the mask. The boy with the blowgun seemed awfully distracted from his usual balloon-popping, his eyes roaming over to the rest of his crew when he thought no one was looking.

Link tried to think of something adults said. “The weather sure has been balmy lately. I had to take out a mortgage on my home. Have you seen the price of wheat lately? Why, when I was a boy, you could buy a year’s worth of wheat for half a rupee, and you had to bite the rupee in two yourself!”

One of the Bombers raised his hand like he was at a schoolhouse.

“Yes, lad, give it to me straight!” Link said in the Gormon brothers’ voice.

“Say some swears!”

The smile behind the Circus Leader’s Mask turned manic. “Why, I never. Never in my days have I seen such a rude little shit. A finger-suckling son of a whore—a fuck-faced little bastard. Back when I was a lad we swore by the Goddess, but these children have all these new-fangled swears.” Link started laughing despite himself. “You son of an ass-fucked keese! How dare you request such…vulgarity!”

The Bombers exploded into a peal of giggling, still at the age where any swear from any mouth was the height of comedy.

“Now: go, my children, and repeat everything I said to your mothers!”

The younger boys scattered, still laughing and roughhousing with each other.

“You’ve killed those boys, Link,” Tatl said, “I’m in awe of your capacity for mischief. That’s supposed to be my wheelhouse.”

Link hummed, unwilling to explain that living in a grove of eternal childhood had a way of honing one’s pranking ability.
Link finally took the mask off, examining the Gormon brothers’ face once again. He hadn’t noticed the tremor in his hands or the clamminess of his skin until that moment, the exhaustion of several days hitting him all at once. He sank to the dirt right where he stood, his legs too weak to carry him any longer.

“Hey, hey, stay with me, jokester,” Tatl dinged, slapping him on the face with hands so small that he could barely feel them through the numbness that blanketed him. “If you don’t stand up right now, I’m going to poke you in the eye.”

“No fair,” Link whined, struggling to get his legs underneath him again. He stumbled to his feet and turned in the general direction of the Stock Pot Inn, the buzzing in his head growing louder and louder until he couldn’t hear anything else. He did what he had always been best at: blindly following the light of his fairy companion.

Somehow Tatl negotiated a room at the inn, because when his senses swam back into focus, Link was lying face-down on a bed, Tatl struggling to pull off his boots. He squirmed until he was sitting upright and kicked his boots off before collapsing back into the mattress.

“Love you,” he said to Tatl, already asleep before he could hear her reply.

She stayed silent for a moment before fluttering over to his face and brushing the thick blond hair out of his eyes. “Yeah, okay, fine. Love you, too, idiot.”

Chapter 21: Zora Mask

Link had never watched a man die before. He found Mikau bobbing in the water, face-down, and though face-down in the water is admittedly less frightening for a Zora, Link immediately knew something was wrong. He could see blood in the water, pooling around the Zora’s gut and fluttering around his gills.

Link barely kept himself afloat in the current as he pushed Mikau’s body to shore, propping the tall Zora up with all his strength and dragging him into the shade where he could die on land instead of the sea where he belonged. It felt like a crime to play the Song of Healing for Mikau, more than the others had been. He saw the life leave Mikau’s eyes and his blood had not even finished draining into the sand before Link turned him into a mask.

But the mask itself was a thing of beauty that not even Link’s guilt could deny. Gliding through the water was like flying, faster than anything Link had ever felt. He was faster than Epona in the water, diving in and out of the sea like a dolphin, his body lithe in a way he had never experienced before.

Mikau had been a sociable Zora. Unlike Darmani and the Deku Scrub child, Mikau had been chatty. Other Zora seemed to know instantly that something was wrong with him, oh, Mikau, are you feeling under the weather? You were out late singing again and lost your voice, eh? When is the band getting back together? And Link would nod and nod and nod. Yes, I am Mikau. I am your friend. I float with his body and fight with his fins.

The Song of Healing was a crime against nature. It was wrong to steal someone’s body the way Link was, wrong in a way that twisted at his insides and ate him up during long nights. It was only Mikau’s whooping joy in the back of his mind that kept him going, kept him going as he flew through the water.

Link knelt in the sand in front of Mikau’s grave, a grave so far removed from the Zora’s family that Link was the only one to ever visit it.

“Am I a bad person?” Link asked the grave and Tatl.

The grave did not answer, but Tatl said. “Hylia, Link, I think that maybe you’re ten years old and morality can’t be determined that early. Ask me again when you’re an adult.”

“You’ll stick around when I’m an adult?” Link wondered. Instead he asked, “When do I become an adult?”

Tatl huffed. “You know, when you get married and have kids and a job. Responsibilities like that.”

Link deadpanned, “I dunno, I think saving the world is pretty responsible.”

“Okay, smartass, you’re an adult when you get this tall,” Tatl flew about six feet above the ground. Link chuckled to himself. He knew from experience that he would never get that tall.

“Okay, but…” Link took out the Zora Mask and traced Mikau’s face with his fingers. He didn’t like how solemn and serious the Zora looked. Everything about Mikau suggested cheerful vibrancy, an inability to back down that both made him a great leader and a dead man. Link was waiting for the other shoe to drop—waiting for Mikau’s family to realize he was an imposter. “Am I bad a person, Tatl?”

She fluttered back down to his height. “I didn’t realize the masks bothered you so much.”

“Navi would have realized,” he thought before he could stop himself. “I feel like they’re dying because of me. Like the Goddess is killing them so I can wear their skin for greater cause. But…even if I save Termina, Mikau will never see his family again. He’ll never come home.”

“Link,” Tatl said slowly, “Do you think you have free will outside of the Goddess?”

“I mean,” his voice broke. “Not really. I have the Triforce of Courage. I’m supposed to complete her quests. I was born… I was born to be a weapon for her.”

Tatl turned around before he could see the expression on her face. When she faced him again, her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Link. I have a proposal. You are going to reset the three days and absolutely annihilate all the games in town. You are going to make high scores that the world has never seen before. You are going to kill it out there. And then, and only then, are you going to go back to your quest.”

“Huh? Why?” Link said, even though he already really wanted to go ahead and start working on those high scores.

“Because, if you didn’t have free will, the Goddess wouldn’t let you fritter away your time on something so inconsequential. So I am going to prove to you that you do have a choice, and I’m going to prove it through ring toss or some shit.”

“...Okay. Okay. That sounds like fun.” Link admitted, putting Mikau’s mask back out of sight. He wasn’t sure if he believed Tatl yet, but he sure wanted to. And he knew, deep down, that Navi would have said something completely different. She would have assured him that the Goddess knew what she was doing, and that he needed to put his faith in her. He realized with a start that he much preferred ring toss to that sort of answer, and that maybe ring toss was closer to what he needed.

He followed Tatl back into Termina, the part of him that yearned for her light to turn blue and her voice to turn soft fading away into nothingness.