hero's spirit

by wheatbreadslice

Summary:

Wind sees ghosts on their adventure.

Some are more familiar than others.

Wind had almost thought that his ability to see spirits would disappear after his second adventure. Keyword: almost. He knows better than to expect a break from the universe by now. But it stayed, and he’s not sure whether it’s a blessing or a curse.

At best, it doesn’t really affect him. In his own Hyrule, out on the Great Sea, there’s hardly any spirits around, and the few that are there don’t interact with him. He doesn’t need to speak to any, look at any, and goddesses forbid speak to any. He doesn’t need a reminder of the look a townsperson gave him when he said be quiet for a minute out loud to a spirit that figured out he could see it.

At worst, it means some of the time periods are harder to be in than others. Warriors’ comes to mind immediately. The most ghosts Wind has ever seen are over the crowds of the captain’s Castletown and waiting at his battlefields. Some try to give Warriors a reassuring clap on the back or words of encouragement when he needs a minute on his own.

They talk a lot, too. Ghost voices are strange: you either hear them fully or you don’t at all. The way they echo around Wind’s skull took a while to get used to. The first time they’d been to Warriors’ era, he had to sit out with Four in their impromptu headache room.

Hyrule’s, well, Hyrule is creepy. Not in the same way as the sudden doubling of noises and people in Warriors’, but the amount of graveyards. The traveller’s world is littered with them. One is bigger than some of the small islands he’s seen. And despite that, there’s hardly any ghosts.

Very few spirits stick around, but whenever Wind happens to see them, they’re as quiet and polite in death as the villagers seem to be in life.

Wild’s is unnerving. Most of the ghosts are from Zora's Domain. Makes sense-- they live so long and their ghosts are bound to want to stay until their loved ones join them. Wild himself has a Zora woman floating beside him most of the time. She’s bright red, though washed out from transparency and tinted teal by the candle-like flames around her, wearing jewelry that marks her as royalty and a sash in the same color and similar markings to Wild’s tunic. She’s short, too, just around the champion’s own height.

She purses her lips whenever Wild gets an injury. Wind personally is impressed by how she’s able to make that expression so often.

Once, when he’s too tired to remember to do otherwise, he stares at her for too long during his watch shift and she notices. Their eyes meet for a moment and he does his best to fix his gaze a bit farther in the distance and hold it there.

A few feet away from him, Hyrule mumbles something in his sleep and shifts in his bedroll.

The ghost starts to walk towards him.

Wind sucks in a breath, studiously turns around, and looks the other way.

“I know you were watching me,” she says. Wind can feel his ears growing warm. “My name is Mipha. You go by Wind, don’t you?”

Still not facing her, he nods. He doesn’t know if Zora can see in the dark, and he doesn’t want to risk her noticing his embarrassment at being caught. She waits a few moments for him to say something, then politely seems to accept his unwillingness to speak.

“Link doesn’t know I’m here, and don’t tell him.” she settles on. “I’m here to help, but I don’t want him to get reckless knowing I’m still watching over him.”

She’s one of just two ghosts that accompany their group of nine. The other is a seagull.

Animal ghosts are strange-- it’s harder to tell when they’re living and when they aren’t. Just a day after Legend joined their group, Wind tried to reach up and pet the seagull, only for his hand to go right through and land squarely on the veteran’s shoulder. Wind froze.

Legend had stared at him for a very long one minute.

“Uh, what was your name again?”

“Wind,” he squeaked.

“Right.”

“Right.”

Neither of them brought it up again.

The next time it saw him, it gave him a squawk-- Wind honestly couldn’t tell whether it was supposed to be comforting him or laughing at him. It hangs out with Legend most of the time anyways, and doesn’t make a lot of noise, so Wind is free to ignore it.

The sailor does see more ghosts on their adventure, though.

Some are more familiar than others.

 

---

 

It’s when they’re dropped in an unfamiliar Hyrule just a few weeks after meeting that it happens first. The group wanders around for a little while, trying to figure out whose it is, but none of them can quite call it their own. It’s fairly open, but there aren’t many villages or towns scattered about. The castle looks very different from Wild’s, but maybe it could be his from centuries before he was even alive? At this point, they’ve given up trying to identify it. Wind has a suspicion that it could be Hyrule’s, only based on the fact that he hasn’t seen a single ghost since arriving, but he can’t very well say that in front of the others. Regardless, there must be something to find, or else they wouldn’t have been sent here.

Wind, for one, is fascinated by the towns. They’re not the biggest, but they’re lively and the people in them are friendly with each other. There aren’t many shops-- only one or two per town, but they’re stocked well with potions and healing supplies.

It does seem strange that they have so many magic refilling potions. Magic isn’t that widely used where Wind comes from. But maybe it’s different here.

They enter a town that Wind doesn’t quite catch the name of. And that’s where he sees it. Time says something about everyone following him to the local inn, but Wind isn’t paying attention, eyes fixed on a ghost in familiar garb. It’s only when Twilight shakes him by the shoulder and asks him to hurry up that Wind replies.

“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” he promises. Twilight opens his mouth to object. “And I know where the inn is, don’t worry.”

Twilight says something else, but he pretends not to hear it, already starting to walk towards the phantom that’s caught his eye. The rancher gives up and heads back.

It’s a ghost with messy brown hair and a familiar green tunic walking the streets, politely dodging the living and swinging his arms loosely as he goes. He gets to the far edge of the town where Wind and the others had just come from and stops there, probably to watch the sunset.

Wind worries his lip a little as he follows. The few ghosts he’s actually talked to since his adventure are usually pretty cheerful, but some of them are still distraught over their own deaths. And if this is who he thinks it is...

“Hyrule?” he whispers.

The ghost in question hums in response, not looking away, then whirls around to face him all of a sudden. “Wind?!” he whisper-yells.

The sailor is dumbstruck. “I--”

Ghost Hyrule has a huge smile on his face, one Wind can count the number of times he’s seen in the living one on one hand. He reaches out for a hug, and though his arms go right through Wind and all the sailor gets for it is chills, his happiness doesn’t dim in the slightest.

A knot in Wind’s stomach finally loosens itself, and he returns the grin as best he can.

“Since when can you see me?”

“I can see spirits!” he whispers, trying to herd the other behind the closest building. “So, forever, I think? But this is the first time I’ve seen you , so-- this is your Hyrule? How did you die? Are you--”

To Wind’s surprise, Ghost Hyrule cuts him off with a wave and laughs. “Yeah, this is mine. It’s hardly the same, isn’t it?” There’s unmistakable pride in his voice.

Ghost Hyrule steps around him and gets back to the path, motioning for Wind to follow. The boy does, and he can nearly see footprints from where the spirit’s translucent boots touch the ground. A fresh breeze whips through the street, but only makes it all the more obvious how this Hyrule’s clothes and hair are unaffected by it. His chest doesn’t rise and fall, he walks a little too close to buildings and sometimes his arm phases through support beams without him noticing, and he’s surrounded by a faint chill that the sailor isn’t quite sure he’s the only one who can feel.

He leads Wind through the town, points out buildings, explains when they were built. He tells little stories about the people in them as they walk until they’re back where they started.

“It’s a beautiful town, right?”

Wind doesn’t think it’s all that special, not when you compare it to Wild’s Kakariko Village or Twi’s Ordon. It’s still wary of newcomers and small. But it’s more than easy to see that it’s growing. Knowing what it likely used to be, it’s exactly as Ghost Hyrule said.

“Yeah,” Wind whispers after checking to see if anyone’s in earshot.

And after a second, “Are you allowed to tell me this stuff? I mean, being that I’m in the past and you’re telling me about… your future, and all.”

Ghost Hyrule shrugs. “You said something about how if we ever saw you again, we oughta tell you about our lives and how we are. Or, you will say,” he corrects upon seeing the sailor’s expression. “I always thought that was weird. I guess it makes sense now though. Either way, blame your future self, not me.”

Well, if that’s not a can of worms.

A sailor and the ghost of a traveler stand in silence for a few moments.

“So you are still chasing that dark, aren’t you? I think I remember coming here for the first time. I’m probably thinking about the-- my old Hyrule right now.”

The spirit’s shoulders drop a little and some of his energy fades away. Wind just looks at him, trying to gauge if the happiness from a few minutes ago was a ruse.

The spirit tilts his head questioningly. “Are you wondering if I’m sad?” he guesses. “To be dead, I mean.”

Well, that wasn’t exactly what Wind was thinking about, but he does want to know.

“Don’t worry,” he dismisses. “I lived a long life. I… it wasn’t easy, but it wasn’t as hard after everything with that dark ended. No more big adventures, so I could start… doing things I wanted. Besides, I got to-- I still get to watch my home prosper.” A small smile makes his way onto his face. “There isn’t much else I could ask for.”

“Wind! Are you still out here?”

Ghost Hyrule’s expression brightens at the sight of Warriors walking towards them. He then interlocks his fingers and stretches his arms over his head.

“I know you don’t need me to tell you, but don’t tell the other me that this is my era. Gotta get to watch it grow for myself and all.”

Warriors huffs. “If you don’t wanna be babied, don’t get lost like a child. Didn’t you tell Twi you knew how to get back to the inn?”

“I do know how to get back to the inn!” Wind argues. “I was going to be back in a second.”

The captain rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

“I was!”

He casts one last look at the spirit and gets a fond wave in return. “Good luck,” it calls after him, then disappears.

 

---

 

The next time he sees a hero’s ghost is at Lon Lon Ranch.

Time greets his wife with a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek while the rest shuffle around until they break apart. Wind’s kind of tempted to call out something like groooosss but he’s not risking Time’s Look of Disapproval until he can get someone to do it with him. Warriors, maybe. Next time.

Malon welcomes them inside, and in record time, the old man has everyone taking care of farm work again.

Sky, of course, gets the cucco wrangling and Wind decides he’s going to stick by Twilight and help him with the heavy lifting. Not because he’s trying to prove himself or anything, he clarifies when Twilight raises an eyebrow at the statement.

… As it turns out, the large bags of fertilizer or… whatever it was (he honestly didn’t really pay attention to what was in them) are, indeed, very heavy. He takes a break to rummage through his bag for his Power Bracelets (not like he needs them, of course, just to make his job faster), but Legend, from where he’s arguing with Warriors and holding a plank of wood, comes over to ask Wind for ‘help.’

Wind knows exactly what he’s trying to do.

...But the bags really are heavy and he thinks the Power Bracelets might take a while to find. And listening to Legend and Warriors argue is more fun than moving things in silence with Twilight. So he agrees.

Legend, Warriors, and Wind finish repairing fences by the late afternoon, so they head back inside to (hopefully) get a rest. Wind’s distracted, however, by the sight of Malon walking outside carrying a bowl of… sugar cubes?

She disappears around the corner of the house and Wind tails her, making sure he’s walking loud enough for her to hear. She waves at him when he approaches.

“What’re you doing?”

She chuckles. “Setting out sugar water. Fairies like it a lot.”

Wind nods, tilting his head and, indeed, seeing a few fairies in the branches of the tall bush she’s standing in front of. When she pulls some branches aside, there’s a small shelf concealed in it with bowls laid out.

“What for?” he asks, not really thinking about the question. She sighs, and he’s about to correct himself (obviously, she just said it was for fairies, Wind, he can almost hear a certain pirate captain’s voice scoffing at him) but Malon doesn’t get annoyed. She takes a few moments to finish putting the sugar cubes in bowls and turns back, dusting off her hands on her dress.

“We’re looking for a certain fairy,” she explains,  “One that helped Link during his first adventure. We haven’t seen her since, but…” she casts a glance towards her home. “We won’t lose hope.”

There’s a beat of silence where Wind doesn’t know what to say to that. “Oh, I... hope you find her,” he says.

To his surprise, Malon laughs a little, patting him on the back and leading him back inside. “Your friend said the same thing.”

Later, when they all settle into their bedrolls shoved together on the floor (the bed went to Hyrule and Four this time) , Wind can’t sleep.

He tosses and turns, and eventually gets a very tired Legend cracking an eye open and telling him to damnit, sailor, stop moving around already before he freezes, waits for the veteran’s breathing to go back to normal, and then carefully tiptoes over everyone to get to the door. He opens and closes it quickly, but doesn’t let the latch click. Hyrule’s a notoriously light sleeper.

Wind takes this time to make the very wise realization that he doesn’t know where he’s going. Fresh air, right? Most people go outside for fresh air when they can’t sleep.

After another moment of deliberation, he sneaks downstairs, keeping his footsteps as close to the wall as he can so the floor doesn’t creak. He slips out the back door and takes a deep breath.

… He still doesn’t know where to go. He can’t go back inside just yet, right? It would be weird if he went outside for less than a minute and then went back. Plus Legend would give him that look again.

Crickets chirp and insects buzz under the near-full moon. He wanders around aimlessly, belatedly realizing he left his boots off, but the grass crunching under his feet doesn’t bother him. He nearly misses the faint outline of two boys balancing on top of the fence bordering the woods, idly chatting.

Once he sees them, he does a double take. They’re two copies of… Four? But wearing tunics and hoods of one color each. He thinks one is red and the other is blue, but both could just as well be purple in the dim light.

He checks around him for any other living people--there’s obviously none-- before approaching the two ghosts. They turn to stare at him when he gets close, but then go back to watching the stars.

“Remember that time he nabbed Legend’s spin ring and told Wild to do a spin attack with it?” the one on the right muses.

The one on the left snorts. “And Wild fell off a ledge ‘cause he couldn’t stop.”

“You think they’ve done that yet?”

“Four?” he tries, keeping his voice down.

Both of them turn their heads to him in shock.

“Wait, Wind?” the one on the right (red tunic?) gasps as if only just noticing him. “You can see us?”

“I-- yeah?” Wind blusters. “Yes, I can see you, I’m talking to you-- are you Four? Are you both Four? How does that work? Why are you wearing different colors?”

The one on the left (and he’s sure that one’s wearing blue, now that he’s closer) rolls his eyes. “Slow down the questions, kid. To answer them, yes, also yes, Four will tell you when he’s ready, and--”

“You could say the colors are to tell us apart. Would be hard if we all looked the same,” the red one cuts in. He smiles at Wind, then hops down from the fence and looks him over. He’s just about Wind’s height, a little taller than Four-- er, living Four-- and his hair is chopped a bit shorter. “You look like you’re doing alright, glad to see it.”

“Why are you here?” Wind asks. He has questions, and his head is swirling with too many of them to pick just one out. For the moment, he’ll call the red one Red and the blue one Blue. There’s no way they don’t have better nicknames-- Four seems like the type that’s better about naming than Sky and his Crimson-- but this’ll do for the time being.

Blue shrugs. “Got someone we’re waiting for.”

A moment of silence.

“Um, yeah, that’s what it usually is,” Wind fills in lamely. He suppresses a yawn.

Who are you waiting for? Were you staying here to see us? How long have you been dead? Did you die in peace? Are you unhappy…?

The two Fours (and really, that’s trippy, it would sound way more convenient if there were four of them) look back at the house.

“No need to worry about us,” Blue offers. “We’re fine, we lived a long while. We had our friends, our work, each other, it was all good.”

Wind brightens at the implication that Four gets to live a full life after their adventure-- if both Hyrule and Four were fine after, does that mean they’ll all succeed? But Red pats him on the shoulder before he can say anything about it.

It’s cold, and his automatic instinct is to flinch away, but he holds himself there for Four’s (half of Four’s?) comfort. “It’s late for you, isn’t it? Go to sleep.”

The sailor goes to object-- “It’s not that late, I’ve stayed up longer on watch, you don’t have to…”

But his traitorous body decides to betray him with another yawn, one that he can’t hold back in time.

Both Fours look like they’re fighting off smiles, and Wind’s cheeks heat up as he looks away.

“Off to bed, kid,” Red crows.

“Kid?!”

“We’re, like, three hundred,” Blue snorts. “Just go.”

Wind grumbles, but starts walking back as ordered, scrubbing at his eye with a closed fist as he goes. Tetra told him it makes him look like a kid, so at least he has his back turned to the two not-Fours-but-also-still-Fours-- hold on a minute!

“Wait, what are your names?!” he whisper-hollers.

“You’ll find out soon enough!”

He boos whichever one said that before getting back inside, only to find that someone had fully closed the door to the bedroom they were using while he was gone. He curses internally, tries to turn the knob as silently as possible, and pretends not to see Hyrule blinking awake and staring at him as he slides into his bedroll and falls asleep.

The next morning, Red and Blue are gone. Wind is tempted to mention them to Four.

...No, that would need too much explanation.

 

---

 

It’s about a month later that they land in what is unmistakably Twilight’s Hyrule, but years upon years in the future. The residents of his village don’t recognize him, except for a few adults who say they think their grandparents mentioned knowing the hero named Link from this town.

Twilight’s taking this information kind of hard. Wind feels bad for him-- it’s easier to walk around in a future where you’re dead, times where you never even exist, when the world is completely different from your own. But to be in one near-identical to your own, just without you in it, sounds utterly disheartening at best.

At least Wind doesn’t have to think of a world without the Great Sea as his Hyrule-- this is unmistakably Twilight’s, but without the people that made it that, saying it feels wrong.

Warriors is the one to get them all back on track. He asks around for any news of sightings of monsters that are extra tough, and gets directed to somewhere called Lower Eldin. A few ghosts wander around and perk up at the sound of that place, but Wind doesn’t recognize them.

They all set out to Hyrule Field within the next few hours, and Twilight is expectedly, uncharacteristically quiet the entire way. Wild leaves him alone for a bit when his usual antics don’t get a response, going back to ask Four about a sword he picked up recently.

Wind nearly misses when a ghostly figure glides over to the rancher and digs a finger into his lower back. Twilight straightens immediately with a visible shiver, checking uselessly over his shoulder but seeing nothing. He doesn’t slouch again.

“Quit poutin’, we’re all fine,” the ghost huffs. That voice is so familiar. It then gives a polite wave to Mipha, peeks over Wild’s shoulder to take a look at whatever he’s doing on his Sheikah Slate and backs up to survey the whole group.

Before looking right at Wind, who had been making direct eye contact in an attempt to recognize who it was. The sailor could facepalm at himself, but it’s not his fault that this one is more transparent than the others.

“Hold on, Wind, you can see me?”

Wind slows down till he’s at the very back of the group, earning a polite wave from Sky, and once the chosen hero looks away, he nods at the ghost.

Oh, it’s Twilight.

Of course it’s Twilight. In simple village clothes and not wearing that wolf pelt, but still Twilight.

The Hero’s spirit falls into stride with him. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Maybe I’d’ve said hi before if I knew there was someone I could talk to.”

Wind points at Mipha.

“You know what I mean, Wind.”

The sailor shrugs. Legend starts talking loudly up front, so the two of them listen for exactly three seconds before tuning it out.

“I’m going back to the castle soon, but you’re wondering how I am, right? I can’t believe you can see me, though. Have you been doin’ this the whole time?”

Wind’s sign is pretty rusty from not having used it in a while, but he’s pretty sure Twi’s is the same as his, so he haltingly signs, [Yes, sorry for not telling you though. How are you?]

Twilight squints at it for a moment before processing the words. “You don’t have to do that, it’s fine, kid--”

“Kid?!” Wind whispers indignantly before he can stop himself. Sky’s ear twitches. What is it with all these ghosts and calling him that? The living Twilight doesn’t even call him that!

Ghost Twilight grins. “You’ll understand when you get to my age,” he says, crossing his arms.

[And how old is that?]

“Two hundred seventy four.”

[I’ll start calling you old man then.]

A scoff. “That was what all the kids at Ordon called me startin’ when I turned thirty. Won’t work on me.”

[Two hundred years and you still aren’t good at looking as mean as Time.]

“I’m not tryin’ta!”

[You’re lucky Warriors can’t hear you, your country boy accent is even worse now.]

Truthfully, Wind’s relieved that the rancher is this lighthearted. That means he’s probably lived well. Or at least, died in peace. And he’s always been good with kids-- it quells some distant fear in Wind to know that he was close with the people in his village in his old age.

After a few minutes of walking and listening to Legend continue complaining about something, Twilight looks at the sky and startles. “Oh, I’m supposed t’be at the castle by now, so--”

Wind raises an eyebrow. Can people there see him, even less expect him?

“Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a long story, you’ll hear the rest later, but there’s a… gateway, you could call it, to another world at the castle. Got broken a long time ago, but they’re tryin’ to find a way to put it back together. It’s… coming along.” He looks east, where Wind can see its silhouette, though his voice is draped in doubt. “I dunno if the person I’m looking for will still be on the other side, or if they’ll even finish it, but I just have to check, y’know?”

The spirit starts to veer away from the rest of the heroes with a wave. “Good luck,” Wind murmurs after him.

 

---

 

They’re next sent to just a few years before Hyrule’s time, and thankfully get dropped close enough to the cave Hyrule calls home that they make it there before sundown. They’re all herded in, narrowly avoiding a wandering band of Goriya that they are in no state to fight, but not before Wind catches sight of a pink-haired ghost in a red tunic, blue cap, and no pants sitting on top of the cave. His legs swing idly over the rocks at the mouth of it while he looks over everyone in the group, until he meets Wind’s eyes and brightens.

He hops down and, before Wind can even sort out the several confused trains of thought in his head right now about Legend, he’s here, he’s waiting for us-- he knows I can see him?-- the ghost floats right inside.

The living Legend clears his throat from right behind him and uses a one-finger knock on Wind’s head. “Hello? Wanna go in already?”

Wind rolls his eyes, bats his hand away, and enters.

The cave is cramped, the spaces that used to be carved out for candles are gone, and the floor is dusty, but they’re all problems that can be solved by everyones’ variation of a lantern and some quick hand-dusting.

Hyrule starts talking about sorting out their situation, but Wind’s a bit distracted watching Legend’s ghost greet Mipha. He says something, the echo of which completely derails the progress Wind made in tuning into the traveler’s lecture, but she shushes him, pointing at Wind and gesturing at her ears. The message is clear-- something like you’ll sound too loud for him -- and Wind appreciates her so much for it. 

The ghost seagull on the living Legend’s shoulder hops off-- the veteran’s hand comes up to rub absentmindedly at the spot it hopped off. Ghost Legend welcomes the bird in his arms and gives it an unexpectedly warm smile as it snuggles closer to him.

Later? he mouths at Wind when he looks up. The sailor nods, so he settles at the end of the cave to listen and wait.

And indeed later that night, after they’ve all settled down in their bedrolls, Wind makes sure to pick the one closest to the back of the cave and farthest from everyone else-- far enough that he can whisper to Legend and not attract too much attention. But then he gets assigned first watch so that he won’t have to climb over everyone just to get to the front, and that completely beat the purpose of his first plan, but whatever.

He parks himself at the front of the cave, hidden with some haphazardly placed bushes and rocks, and waits for Ghost Legend to come up to him.

It only takes a few moments. The phantom veteran, seagull still cradled in his arms, sits nearby again.

“Hey, squirt.”

“You’re, like, the third ghost to call me something like that,” he huffs softly.

“Well, when you get old and wise like us, everyone as tiny as you looks like a--”

“Shut up!”

Ghost Legend chuckles. Wind’s heart flutters hopefully at how easily the sound comes from him. Their prickly veteran, though sarcastic and a little mean, always has a laugh that dies a bit too quickly at the end, sometimes takes too much effort to start.

“How’s the adventure going?”

Wind rolls his eyes. “You already did it all, you know how it’s going.”

The spirit scoffs. “Well, forgive me for being polite. It’s been a couple hundred years since my time, in case you haven’t noticed. I’m probably forgetting some details.”

With another eyeroll, he dutifully starts to fill him in. Ghost Legend cuts him off halfway.

“Oh, yeah, I remember this part. You’re about to be spending a while on a boat.”

Both of them pause awkwardly, an are people allowed to talk about future events after they’re dead? hanging in the air unspoken. Legend takes no time whatsoever to decide he doesn’t give a fuck about Hylia’s domain. “If she’s so concerned about me fucking up the timeline, she can stop me thirty seconds ago.”

And for the next hour or so, they just talk.

“You have no idea how weird it was to go back to my life after all... this. ‘N don’t get any ideas about how you’re guaranteed to succeed just ‘cause I told you this, kid. You never know how the future can change if you let down your guard. I always thought the goddesses were gonna send me on another mission or something after I got back, but…”

Wind turns his head away from the moonlight shifting through the leaves of the branches to look at the veteran questioningly.

He gets a shrug in response. “Waited ‘n waited, but nothing happened. I got myself a peaceful life. Started making potions for people and other magic work. I... guess I thought my life would always be some damn adventure, nothing but me and my items and my joint pain on the roads.”

“I’m glad,” Wind whispers. Ghost Legend raises an eyebrow at him. “That you got a good life, not that-- you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the ghost says, flashing a grin at him that fades into a wistful smile. “I didn’t even know what to do for a while. Go out ‘n talk to people and keep yourself busy, things get better. Or less boring.”

The sailor gives him a look again.

 “Yeah, yeah, I know, cranky old vet dishing out inspirational bullshit like a grandpa. Zelda’s-- Fable’s son, good kid, used to listen to it.”

They lapse into silence for a bit. Someone shifts in their bedroll.

“You know how fucking weird it was to check the calendar one day and realize that it was the year Twilight was literally being born in another timeline?”

The rest of the shift is filled with their occasional chatting, but more and more silence in between as Wind starts to get tired .

“Oh yeah, how’d you know I can see you?” he asks after a yawn. None of the other ghosts seemed to know about his ability.

“Other than you literally staring nonstop as soon as you noticed me? You told me.”

…Interesting. A few more minutes and a few more loose comments are exchanged.

“I’m just sticking around until Hyrule becomes the hero and finishes his first adventure. I wanna make sure he’s… y’know, doing alright and all. That's it.”

Wind smiles. “Good luck with that.” Another few minutes of silence before he breaks out in one last huge yawn. The ghost ruffles his head affectionately, and the sailor has to stop himself from openly gaping at the motion. Their grouchy living veteran would never. But Ghost Legend seems to have done it without thinking, since he doesn’t notice Wind’s expression.

Soon, his shift is nearly over. Wind is just about to wake Time when the frigid impression of a hand reaches out and tugs on his sleeve.

“Don’t tell me I told you this, ‘cause I’ll probably throw a fit or something, but I really don’t like sailing. Remember how I said you’re all gonna be on the Great Sea for a few weeks? Ask Warriors to keep an eye on me when you get there.”

(True to the ghost veteran’s word, they do soon find themselves on the Great Sea. And Legend’s mood does visibly drop as soon as they get there. He’s snappier and jumpier and rubs at his arm and paces around the ship all the time even when they’ve just left land, so upon Wind relaying his future self’s message, Warriors agrees without question to stay closer to him for the time being.)

 

---

 

It’s another few months before his next spirit hero encounter.

Wind is wandering through some woods in Time’s Hyrule with Warriors at his heel-- apparently the captain dropped something this way. Wind sees something shiny on the ground a few meters away and changes course to try and get a closer look at it. There’s a shout from the direction of the group they just left, and he barely gets time to process the “PORTAL’S CLOSING FAST, HURRY UP AND GET BACK BEFORE--”

The ground drops out from under Wind’s feet and he is unceremoniously dumped onto… the exact same place…?

Not exactly the same, he corrects, because the trees look kind of different and the shiny thing he was looking at is gone. There’s a new fog hanging over him. It’s also no longer early evening-- it’s about midday, Wind estimates.

And he’s alone.

Warriors is nowhere to be heard. Wind sits up immediately, looking around to see if any of their group is around here, but no luck. Goddessdamnit.

The forest is much different now that he’s looking at its floor instead of into the canopy. There’s a lot more tree shoots, and he can see several alarmingly large, hollowed-out logs cutting through winding dirt paths.

He finally stands up, brushing off his pants and tunic and checking that he still has all his items on him. Well, the others must be somewhere around here. Wild or Hyrule would probably be ecstatic to be in his place right now. Might as well try and find something on his way back to make them jealous.

The sailor turns around, adjusting his tunic one last time-- only to come face to face with another child clad in a bright green tunic and cap.

He yelps and stumbles back, narrowly catching himself from falling on his ass again, notes that the child is wearing the same thing he was given to wear when his first adventure started, and--

Oh, so the boy is see-through. Just barely, but if Wind looks really hard, he can see the log behind him through his tunic.

“You scared me,” Wind huffs. “Gimme a little warning,” a pause, “kid.”

He looks carefully at the child to see if his use of “kid” earns him any reaction, and it doesn’t. Wind grins. Fucking finally, a hero’s spirit to talk to that’s younger than him.

Although this might not be a hero’s spirit. Wind is the last person in the group to doubt that this could just be some kid dressed in the hero garb for tradition.

He opens his mouth to say something else, either to ask where they are or what year it is, he hasn’t decided yet, but--

“It’s been a while since someone talked to me,” the child says faintly.

Oh.

Okay, so maybe he should have thought of the implications of the ghost being a child before jumping to giggle fits over not being the youngest in a group. He doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he shrugs.

“Where did you come from? I saw the portal, but it disappeared before I could get a closer look.”

“It’s kind of a long story.”

The child tilts his head. “I can listen.”

Wind takes another look around. He hasn’t been dropped in a clearing, but he is at a dead end of one of the dirt paths. Past it is just more trees and some dense bushes that would be a pain to walk through… and Wind does need to go back and find the others soon. “Alright, but let’s talk while moving. And what’s your name?”

“Link.”

Well, that kinda confirms it.

The sailor had considered that the kid might be from a world where the hero’s outfit was tradition, but he knows for sure that this isn’t his Hyrule (he’s certain there aren’t any trees like this where he’s from), and none of the others mentioned anything similar. That and the name Link?

Wind can see what’s going on now.

(“Well, ‘Rule and I aren’t from either one. Our stories are about some Fallen Hero that got killed by Ganon. Took all the Sages and the Knights to seal the bastard away after.”

The old man looks more than deeply disturbed.)

This is a hero that died, and by the looks of it, died young. 

(“I mean, I defeated Ganondorf! Just how old am I expected to be?!”

Time chuckles. “I’m the worst judge of that.”)

A knot of apprehension twists in his stomach. 

“Nice to meet you, Link,” he starts easily. “Actually, that’s my name too. I’m a hero from another era, the Hero of Winds, if you’ve heard of me. Me and eight other heroes are going on a quest.”

The child doesn’t react. In fact, it’s a little creepy, the way he hardly makes any expressions at all. Just boredom and, for a few moments, surprise. He looks questioningly at Wind when he stops talking.

“There’s... a shadow that’s been messing with time, and we’re trying to stop it. But there’s some weird timeline stuff going on, different-actions-different-consequences kind of thing, so figuring out where exactly we are is a little hard sometimes. Are you alright?”

“Where are you going?”

The others used to think Wind was naive enough to not notice when they dodged questions or lied to his face. Practice with Wild after battles where he didn’t want to talk about injuries means he doesn’t miss the just-asked-question met with another question.

“I’m trying to find my friends, but I don’t know where they are,” Wind answers measuredly. He takes a gamble. “You’re a hero too, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you could’ve called me that.”

“What happened?”

They turn right and find that the path leads into a huge, hollowed-out log tunnel. It isn’t wide enough for them to walk side by side, so Wind lets the boy go through it in front of him and keeps a short distance behind.

“I died,” is the bland, toneless answer.

Wind frowns. That much is obvious-- not the answer he was looking for, but pressing will probably get him nowhere. “I’m sorry,” he offers.

It’s fine. I’ve been conscious--” (not alive, conscious) “--for a long time.” And with the first hint of irritation, “Don’t pity me.”

“I’m not trying to,” Wind objects. “I’m really not. Ganon’s an awful enemy. And you’re…” Just a child. He doesn’t look older than eight or nine. “Really young.”

“I wasn’t this young when I fought him.” What does that mean? “But thanks, I guess. I’m not sad about it anymore.”

No, really, what? Because “this young” implies he’d been older.

“I don’t think your friends are in these woods. You’re gonna want to go that way to get out. See you later.”

“No, no, wait, just talk to me,” Wind backpedals. “Not about Ganon or anything, just about stuff. Like what it’s like here. Or about your day.”

The kid blinks and waits a minute for Wind to just leave in the direction he pointed. (Which Wind thinks was just a random direction to be left alone, because there isn’t even a path there.) The sailor doesn’t budge. The kid then returns to his side and, with a sigh, starts talking. Wind has no doubts now that this is the Fallen Hero that Legend and Hyrule mentioned. And that means he’s a younger version of Time, right…?

A Time that failed.

Even from the eyes of someone who grew up hearing about the hero of Time as nothing but the ideal, unattainable symbol of a hero, it’s not surprising. Wind knows that Time isn’t perfect. But the idea that he could have failed hadn’t really registered until now.

“...so then the old woman raised her potion prices. Her name’s Syrup, I think.”

The child trails off and they walk in silence for a little while.

Not in the direction Young Time had told Wind to go earlier, he notes a little pettily.

“If you don’t mind me asking…” The spirit tenses. Wind plows on. “Why are you still here? Still, haunting, I guess.”

There’s a fork in the path. Young Time picks the one that veers further away from the original track, and Wind follows without question, waiting for the boy to say something.

“...I had friends in the forest where I’m from. And there was a fairy who helped me. She can’t see me, but she was always hovering over me when I was on my quest. I wasn’t sure she’d be okay after I died, but she ended up being fine, so… I guess I’m just here to see what happens next.”

A fairy…

(The swish of a skirt as Malon turned to look at him. “We’re looking for a certain fairy, one that helped Link during his first adventure.”)

“What’s her name?” Wind asks, a little too quickly. “The fairy.”

“Navi. You know her?”

“No, but I think I know… someone who knows her.”

The child gives him a scrutinizing look. “You think? You just said you weren’t from this era. So it’s one of your hero friends on your quest?”

The forest is beginning to thin out now, and the scant filtered sunshine cutting through the fog is a welcome warmth. Young Time looks like a proper ghost under it-- it must be a strange trick of the light that he looked almost solid before.

“Yeah.”

Another pause.

“Who are these heroes you’re travelling with?”

Wind brightens. “Well, we’re all named Link. So we go by nicknames based on our hero titles. They call me Wind. There’s Sky, he’s the first one of us, and he’s got a girlfriend he’s always telling us about.” He keeps count on his fingers. “Warriors, he’s an army captain from somewhere outside all the timeline stuff, Wild, he’s from way in the future. Legend, we call him the veteran ‘cause he’s been on so many adventures. There’s Hyrule--”

“Hyrule?” the boy interrupts, then realizes and composes himself again. “Doesn’t that get confusing?”

“Yeah,” Wind chuckles. “He used to complain about having to introduce himself named after the kingdom, he got so many weird looks.”

The hint of a smile crosses Young Time’s face. “I imagine.”

“Next is Twilight, he’s always wearing wolf furs. He’s also got a wolf, which I think is kinda fucked up, I mean, it’s a little morbid to be wearing that in front of the dog, but they’re never actually around each other. So maybe Wolfie only likes us and he’s avoiding Twi for the whole pelt thing.”

“Strange. The wolf is named Wolfie?”

“Mhm. I think it’s just a thing for us Links to be bad at naming. Sky, the one I told you about earlier, has this huge bird called a Loftwing, and apparently his is really special so they call it a Crimson Loftwing. He named it ‘Crimson.’”

If Wind was paying more attention then, he might have heard the quiet clink and rustle of plate armor on chainmail behind him. If he was paying more attention now, he’d notice that it suddenly drops in volume, as though its owner is trying to be as quiet as possible.

“There’s Four, he’s a super talented smithy. Sometimes he fixes up our swords and stuff. He’s real short too, even shorter than me. You’re probably his height. And there’s, uh…”

He briefly weighs the risk of saying something stupid like ‘I’m actually travelling with a version of you from another timeline where you didn’t die and live a happy life with a wife and maybe-probably-definitely kids in a few years.’

“...Time. He’s the old man.”

“Do you not like him? You said awfully little there.”

“No, no, I do like him,” Wind defends himself. “We call him the old man ‘cause he’s the oldest.” He sputters at the mildly irritated look he gets for that. “We think! He won’t tell us how old he is, there’s a bet going about it.”

“Time’s a weird name, too,” the kid muses offhand. Wind’s relieved to see that he’s finally loosened up enough to talk without that deadpan tone and neutral expression. “You said the nicknames are all based on titles, right?”

“Um, right.” Wind doesn’t quite like where this is going. The kid seems to be none the wiser.

“So he’s the hero of Time? Where’d he get a title like that?”

Young Time turns to Wind, and he very quickly takes back his earlier judgment. It doesn’t take a genius to see past that thinly veiled nonchalance. The kid is hanging onto his every word.

“He doesn’t talk about his adventures a lot, but from what he’s told us, I think he--”

A much louder clatter of armor and chainmail reaches Wind’s ears, 

And he barely has the time to process who it must be from before Time’s accusive voice cuts through the air.

“Who are you talking to?”

Oh, I’m fucked.

Wind turns around to be face to face with none other than the damn old man himself. Sweat starts to form very quickly on the sailor’s brow when he remembers that he hadn’t exactly been talking quietly.

Young Time looks his counterpart up and down, then turns back to Wind, watching him keenly. “This is one of your hero friends?”

“Hi, Time,” he greets, nervously reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. “I was talking to, uh… myself?” 

Shit! That sounded too much like a question. He clears his throat. “Myself. Is who I was talking to. Yeah.”

Wind can feel Tetra’s scathing look from across ages. But in his defense, Time’s questioning look feels a lot more like a glare now that he’s being put on the spot and anyone would have a hard time thinking of a lie with the literal Hero of Time staring at them like that.

Time raises an eyebrow. The sailor starts to fidget, then catches himself and stops.

“So, did you come to get me back to the others? We can go now.”

Wind sweats more.

“I have a hard time believing that,” is the inflectionless response.

Dear Hylia, is this what Twilight and Wild have to go through every week for all the antics they pull? Wind can feel himself starting to crack under the pressure. He tries to get a glimpse of Young Time just to get away from that intimidating blue eye (really, you’d think only having one would make the effect weaker, but it’s even scarier-- how does that work?!). 

However, the spirit isn’t paying attention to him anymore. He walks closer to the old man and stands inspecting the blue ocarina tied at his hip.

“Timelines, a hero that’s secretive about his age, and someone who knows Navi,” Young Time muses.

“You may not want to be treated like a child, but forgive me for wanting to know whether you’re mature enough to judge who should hear about our quests and lives and who shouldn’t.”

“What’s that ring he’s wearing on his left hand for?”

Time crosses his arms. Young Time straightens from where he’d been looking at the instrument and mirrors the motion.

“Well? Who was it?”

“This is your Hero of Time, isn’t it?”

“Wind?”

Two Times stand next to each other, both staring intently at him. A pair and a half of the same eyes.

The sailor briefly curses Hylia for only giving him a brain that can only come up with a panicked ‘ oh, so that intimidating look was just something you were born with.’

By the Three, he has never felt so short. From the looks of it, Time came from behind them-- Wind could probably make it past and find his way back to the others before the old man catches up.

“Well?”

Which one was that? Normally, he can tell ghosts apart because their voices echo in his head instead of being heard like normal sounds, but right now both of them are starting to ring a little.

“Um, I can tell you both later,” he says faintly, and bolts.

He hears a cut-off sound of surprise from Time, and an eerie silence from the ghost, but he doesn’t really care because there was a fork in the path a while ago and he’d followed Young Time down one side without thinking about it, so Time must have come from the other side.

He can hardly tell how many minutes he’s been running, but as soon as he finds the fork he takes a sharp turn down the other path and keeps going, straining his ears for someone following. He doesn’t hear anything, but that could just be because of his own loud footsteps.

Either way, he knows the old man isn’t as fast as him. Which gives him enough time to slow his run to a jog and contemplate how stupid that was-- running away from a confrontation like that? How childish could he be?

His gaze fixes onto the ground as he keeps moving.

It was either telling Time that he could see ghosts and was talking to one (would he even believe that?) or answering Young Time’s questions, and regular ghosts’ wrath isn’t something to be taken lightly, so Wind doesn’t even want to risk telling the spirit that he’s a failure standing beside a version of himself that succeeded, that wasn’t murdered at the hands of Ganon, that didn’t leave his world in ruin.

The dirt floor gets sunnier as he goes as the trees presumably thin out further, the fog nearly fading to nothing.

But at the end of the day, Young Time was just a ghost, so why was he so stressed? It was just a few explanations. Nothing he couldn’t clear up with just a little bit of talking. Wind’s known for his talking. And if Time doesn’t buy his ghosts excuse, he could always claim it’s those Minish Four told him about. The smithy would even back him up on it.

Argh, and what’s Time even going to do now? Wind doesn’t even know where to start thinking about it, would the old man bring it up in front of everyone?! Any chance he had of brushing it off is nonexistent now that he ran away. What happens if th--

He looks up too late.

He crashes, very undignified, into Twilight’s back. The rancher isn’t even swayed by Wind’s weight, just turning around and grabbing his forearm to steady him.

“Wind! We sent Time in to look for you,” Warriors calls, making his way over to check him for injuries.

“Did you see him?” Four muses. “If he’s not back in another few minutes, we’re probably going to have to go back in to get him.”

“By the three, kid,” Hyrule complains, following Warriors to get a better look at him, “We’ve all been looking for, like, an hour now.”

“Uh, sorry for worrying you guys,” Wind says distractedly, batting away Warriors’ hand that was coming to ruffle his hair. The few who are here-- it’s Four, Hyrule, Warriors, Twilight, and Sky-- exchange looks at the lack of reaction to being called ‘kid.’ Usually, they’d get an earful.

Wind looks away from the forest to check the group over. “Wild and Legend are getting inn arrangements sorted out,” Sky offers when they meet eyes.

It’s just a few more minutes until they can see Time walking out to meet the rest of them. There’s a chorus of “old man” and “thought you’d never get back” before they all register how he’s probably downright glaring at Wind.

Wow, the clouds have never looked so interesting. Wind carefully positions himself on the other side of Sky and starts to study them. He thinks he knows his cloud types, his grandmother had a book about them that she read to him and Aryll years ago. There’s cumulus, cirrus,--

“Did you do something to make Time mad?” the chosen hero questions quietly, gently elbowing the sailor to get his attention.

Wind shrugs.

Wow, those clouds really are fascinating .

Time makes no effort to talk to him during the walk, though. Wind doesn’t know if that makes him feel worse or better.

They get to the inn. 

Legend waves. “We got two rooms, so one group of four and one group of five.”

“Two rooms?”

“Do I look like I’m made of money, pretty boy?”

“‘Was just asking!”

Before Warriors and Legend can start arguing, Twilight clears his throat and they all start sorting out who’s staying in what room.

Wind stays back while they do it. He knows if he picks before Time does, the old man will probably just choose whichever room Wind chose because there’s no chance he’ll let him off the hook today. He risks looking at Time and immediately regrets it, because Time’s gaze soon slides over to meet his and the sailor can feel the irritated intent from across the room.

It’s childish, he knows, but something in his gut still churns at the thought of that conversation. He tunes out of the room discussion.

“Hmm, so it’s Twi, Wild, Four, ‘n Sky in the first room, me, Hyrule, Warriors, and Time in the second, Wind, which one are you staying in?”

Well, that’s an easy decision.

He goes to choose Twilight’s group immediately ...

...But makes the grave mistake of making direct eye contact with Time, who in the past just two minutes seems to have mastered the art of telepathically beaming an entire shipload’s worth of disapproval and suspicion directly into Wind’s brain.

“...Time’s group,” he says meekly.

They head upstairs and Sky gives Wind a sympathetic pat on the back before entering the first room.

He does appreciate the gesture.

As soon as they get into the second room, Legend and Warriors are arguing over who should get the bed, a thin one pressed up against a nightstand that’s pressed against the wall. Hyrule, already starting to set up his bedroll at the edge of the room, is sorting through his bag, unbothered. Wind does the same next to him, and doesn’t even risk trying to get a look at what the old man is doing.

Eventually, Legend and Warriors somehow get to a standstill where nobody gets the bed, and Wind’s still trying to process exactly how that happened when Time finally clears his throat and pulls him aside.

Legend and Warriors start ooo’ing as he leaves the room, and after a minute, Hyrule joins in. They’re silenced when Time gives them a look, but Wind catches Legend’s salute to him before the door shuts and it’s just him and the old man in the hallway.

“Would you prefer to have this conversation here, or outside where the rest won’t be able to hear?”

Neither, actually, is what Wind wants to say, but he settles on “Outside…”

He hears a muffled “damn” pressed against the first door that sounds suspiciously like Wild and two sets of footsteps walking away from it.

That… eases his nerves, actually. At least his teammates are still nosy bastards.

As soon as they’re across the dirt road from the inn, Time sighs and starts talking. “Wind, I didn’t mean to come off as harshly as I did. I’m sorry. But I do still need to know what was going on with you.”

A lone spirit glides past them. Wind tracks it with his eyes and Time follows his gaze.

After a moment of hesitation,

“Um, I can see ghosts. And also talk to them. That’s it.”

Time raises an eyebrow. “That’s it,” he echoes.

“Mhm.”

Neither of them move. Time crosses his arms and keeps staring.

“That’s it,” the old man repeats again, slower and with a lot of doubting force to it.

“M-mhm.”

The sun hangs low in the sky, but not low enough to count as sunset-- it’s a peaceful day, with birds and crickets making noise and a light breeze rustling through.

“So,” Time says, excruciatingly slowly, “you’re telling me that--”

And Wind cracks. “OKAY,” he cuts the older hero off, not looking him in the eye. “I was talking to theghostofthefallenherofromthistimelineandhewasaskingaboutyoubutididn’tknowwhattosaytohimso--”

“Slower, please,” Time interrupts. Wind groans and buries his face in his hands.

“The ghost, remember how Legend and Hyrule mentioned the fallen hero that, like, died ‘n stuff?” he mumbles. “Portal dropped me in that forest and that ghost was there, he started asking about us ‘cause I mentioned I was a hero on a quest, ‘n then he started asking about you causeofthewhole…” he gestures vaguely at the man. “Thing.”

Time takes a minute to parse. Wind does not look up.

“You talked to a dead version of me and were worried about what I’d think about it.”

“Yeah. That’s all.”

“Alright.” Time uncrosses his arms and Wind finally pulls his hands away from his face, a special kind of relief flooding through him when he finds that The Look has softened.

And then--

“Wait, you just believe me?!” the sailor sputters. “Just like that?”

Time starts walking back. “Were you lying?”

“No!”

“I fought the moon,” he says nonchalantly. “My tolerance for nonsensical ideas is pretty high.”

Wind jogs over to catch up to him. “No, I mean, you just believe me? You don’t even want me to tell you what he said? Or think I’m insane?”

“I’m certainly curious, but if it’s a conversation I wasn’t meant to hear, then I won’t ask.”

“Old man, you’re crazy.”

Time ignores him, but just as they get to the entrance, he gives Wind another sharp look.

“If you go around doing that again, talk quieter,” He says, some of that edge from before returning to his tone. Wind gulps and agrees.

They get back to the room and Hyrule immediately perks up, with Legend and Warriors sitting up from where their bedrolls are laid out on opposite ends of the small bed. The other door creaks and footsteps are heard as Wild and Twilight also peek in.

“You guys are all good?”

Wind laughs. “Yeah, we’re fine.”

He’s woken in the middle of the night by a harshly whispered, “Vet, get the fuck off that bed, we agreed on--”

“Shut up, pretty boy, I’m sleeping.”

“You are not.”

“Don’t wanna hear it coming from the guy who woke up plannin’ to get on it while I was asleep.”

“You did the same thing!”

“But I was better at it.”

“Move over, you asshole--”

“WILL THE TWO OF YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP.”

“...Fine, Hyrule...”

 

The next morning complicates things. They hear reports of unnaturally tough monsters from castle guards not only to the east, but also west, where Wind had been dropped. When they mention getting multiple accounts offhand, they also hear accounts of the monsters being already dealt with past the woods.

Legend wipes his sweaty hands on his sleeves after coming back from the last guard. “First of all, I’m not talking to any more of the knights, second of all, most of ‘em say it’s taken care of past the woods.”

“We should still check it out over there, though,” Sky points out.

“Yeah. So what’s the plan?”

They all turn to the old man.

Eventually, they sort out that they can send six out to follow the trail that was sure to be unresolved, while three would go through the woods to ensure there’s nothing left.

Legend decides to take the second route-- “It’s through the Lost Woods, I know my way around there--” and Wind volunteers for it too. Hyrule’s the last one to get put in their group, because he’s the least weapon-dependent fighter, and they were looking to take care of any stragglers left as quickly as possible. After another few minutes, they split up.

“So,” Legend starts, dragging out the single syllable with an unnecessarily dramatic turn on his heel to face him. “You got in trouble with Time.”

“And he was being so extra serious about it,” Hyrule adds, a smile on his face as they move through the woods. “You didn’t see the look he was giving you.”

“What was that all about, anyways?” Legend stops walking backwards to keep track of their trail.

“Not telling you.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Wind huffs. “Just a misunderstanding.” Kind of. Not really.

“Hmm. Legend, why not head down this path instead?”

“Don’t you dare.”

“Worth a shot.”

The rest of the trip passes in relative silence and gaps between short conversations. It’s about half an hour until they’re at the end of the woods, when--

“Look,” Hyrule warns, all cheerful mirth replaced with a hard edge, “There’s a corpse.”

And, true to his word, there’s a dead moblin tossed a few feet off the path. Legend hurries through the thick underbrush to inspect it, a hand at the hilt of his sword and warning to stay on guard.

Wind starts looking around, too, but there’s nothing he can see on the other side of the path.

“It’s not infected,” Legend reports.

“Any more over there?” Wind calls.

“Nope. Not that I can see, at least. Looks like a spear killed it, though, so it probably was one of the knights who got it.”

“Still, let’s look around.” Hyrule moves forward, taking the opposite side of the path and wandering into it. “Stay within yelling distance.”

Wind takes Legend’s side and winces as a few low branches scrape at the little exposed part of his calf. The veteran must be having it worse, what with his no-pants policy. They’re both on the same side of the road, but Legend is searching to his right, so Wind takes the left, scanning the ground for any sign of another enemy.

He can’t find anything, so he checks to see that Legend knows where he is-- they nod at each other-- and goes a bit further out.

“Hello.”

He whirls around and nearly trips on something as the ghost floats down. Young Time plants his feet into the ground (though his boots are clipping through it a little bit, which diminishes the effect) and crosses his arms to give Wind a Look. It’s not nearly as effective as Time’s Look, but with how bad Wind’s been feeling about running off, it still works.

Despite his irritated stance, the ghost has his face back in that blank expression from before. “You didn’t answer my questions.”

Wind rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Uh, sorry about that,” he mumbles, looking over the forest floor again. “That was kinda shitty of me.”

“It’s alright.”

There’s a few moments of silence. Young Time doesn’t say anything, clearly waiting for Wind to continue.

“Do you… want me to answer them now?”

“Yes.” A short pause, then “Tell me about your Hero of Time.”

Wind thinks for a little while, trying to word it right while still venturing out a little to look. “He’s you, I guess--” no reaction, “We don’t know a lot about his adventures, but he’s been on two. He’s kinda the group dad, I think, and the leader ‘cause he’s the oldest. Uh, our whole group thinks you two are the ones who caused the whole timeline split. Some of us are from a world where the first adventure succeeded, some of us are from a world where you defeated Ganon and disappeared, and some of us are from a world where you, um…” he vaguely gestures at the spirit. “You know.”

“And he’s the one that succeeded?”

“Yup.”

“He’s married.”

Wind nods. “His wife’s name is Malon. They’re gross together.”

A long beat of silence.

“Not gross, but, like, sappy,” he clarifies.

Young Time continues to say nothing, so Wind keeps looking around. It’s still only around noon, and the woods are less misty, but he thinks he might see something ahead. He goes to inspect it, but…

“Just a weird stick,” he sighs.

“Does he…” And the child falters for the first time today. “is he happy?”

Young Time looks away. Wind’s heart breaks for him a little bit. “I think so,” he answers truthfully. “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine. He won, I didn’t. That’s just how it is.” But what made us different? is the question hanging unanswered in the air.

“Still…”

“Why was he looking for Navi? What happened to her?”

“I don’t know much about it, ‘cause Miss Malon was the one who told me, but apparently Navi just left after his first adventure. He’s been looking for her since.”

“Hmm… what happened in his second?”

“You’d have to ask him. He hasn’t told us anything about it. Except that he fought the moon.”

And that is what breaks the kid’s barrier for the day. Legitimate surprise comes across his face, and a huff of laughter like he thinks it’s unbelievable.

“I’m... glad he’s well,” the spirit says, but there’s something in his voice Wind can’t quite describe.

A few moments pass, while Wind is about ready to head back and report nothing, before he remembers to ask something. “Um, Link, I don’t--”

“You want me to take you and other me to Navi.” Young Time interrupts. He tilts his head. “Right?”

Wind blinks.

“Uh, yeah…” he says. “But you don’t have to.”

“WIND!” someone yells, voice cracking as though they aren't used to being this loud.

The sailor whirls around, but doesn’t go just yet, waiting for an answer. “COMING!” he calls back, then watches the ghost.

Young Time hesitates a bit more, and Wind starts to bounce his leg.

“Listen, you really don’t have to, we might leave this world soon anyways--”

The kid opens his mouth as if to say something, then shuts it in hesitation.

“Kid, I’m gonna start walking n--”

“Wind, who the fuck are you talking to?” Legend asks, more than a little irritation in his voice. “We called you three times.”

The veteran’s irritation is practically pouring off him, and he calls a “I’VE GOT HIM, ‘RULE” before crossing his arms impatiently and waiting for an answer.

Young Time is still silent.

(‘How’d you know I can see you?’ 

A snort and brush of fabric as a long red tunic is adjusted. ‘Other than you literally staring nonstop as soon as you noticed me? You told me.’)

...Well, no better time than the present, Wind supposes.

“It’s a ghost,” he says.

Legend gives him the most incredulous look he’s ever seen, and then just sighs and grabs Wind by the arm and starts hauling him back. “You know what? Tell me all about it later. You didn’t find anything here?”

“Nope.”

As soon as they get back to Hyrule, the traveler looks like he’s going to chew Wind out, but thankfully doesn’t.

“Looks like whatever soldier killed that thing was fucking weak,” Legend sighed. “And you,” he turned to Wind, “need to learn how to follow directions.”

They look around a little further-- no luck-- and begin the long trudge back. Young Time trails behind all of them, but Legend makes Wind stand in front.

“If you don’t want to be babysitted, don’t run off after explicitly being told to stay in hearing distance.”

It quickly turns into an indignant argument, with Hyrule ignoring them and keeping watch around as they walk.

It’s only just as they exit the forest that Young Time makes up his mind.

When the other group returns to the inn, some of them significantly more bloodspattered than others and with several clumsily bandaged injuries, Hyrule’s off with Life already fizzing at his fingertips.

Wind taps the old man on the shoulder when he’s done getting cleaned up and healed.

“I think we found someone you should meet,” he says.

 

---

 

The last time he sees a hero’s ghost is when they’re at some point between Sky’s and Four’s era (that’s their best guess, at least). There’s a Hyrule on the surface, but it’s small and still spreading out. No castle quite yet-- or castle ruins, which might have meant it was Wild’s. 

And it’s chilly.

Wind isn’t unprepared for the cold, but he’s far from the most warmly dressed out of their group. That award would go to Sky, who wears so many layers that it’s a marvel he doesn’t suffocate in any weather outside of freezing.

He’d been shoved into a pond one time and it took both Warriors and Twilight to drag him out of it with all that waterlogged fabric and chainmail.

It’s him and the sailor who are tasked with getting firewood, though, so they’re out on the edges of the clearing collecting sticks. Sky is humming something to himself, and it’s by chance that just when a cold breeze hits and Wind shivers, he had been looking right at him. Wind’s only warning is the crunch of dead leaves under boots before a heavy, fragrant cloth is draped over his shoulders.

“Wh--” Wind realizes it’s just the sailcloth, and that Sky’s still hovering over him a pace away waiting for him to either hand it back or clip it on, and his ears grow warm. “You didn’t have to,” he mumbles.

But he fastens it anyway and pulls it around his shoulders a bit tighter, careful to bunch it up at the top so the end doesn’t drag on the floor. Sky gives him a smile and goes back to looking.

It rained recently. If the damp leaves and slightly humid air weren’t an indicator, it’s the fact that it takes another fifteen minutes for Wind to gather enough dry sticks to bring back. Sky’s already on his way over just a few steps ahead.

A faint flash of movement in the corner of his vision. Wind instantly looks up to track it, and it only takes a second to identify the ghost, and another second to incredulously blurt-- “Sky?!”

He’d recognize that sailcloth anywhere, even transparent and faded.

It’s been months since he saw the last spirit of a hero-- the last was Hyrule again, a brief exchange of words and a wave. But he knows why they’re all staying around, at least. Hyrule’s watching his world grow, Legend’s watching over his protege, Four and Twilight are waiting for people. But why would this one, why would--

The ghost, wearing a white sailcloth matching his own, whirls around in shock.

They stare at each other for a few moments.

“Uh, yeah?” comes the very living, real response.

Neither Wind nor the ghost move.

Until Sky’s hand-- the living one’s, that is-- comes to rest on his shoulder as squints at the place where Wind’s gaze is fixed. Seeing nothing, he shakes him by the shoulder. “Is something there?”

Wind turns around. “Oh, yeah, no, nothing’s there. I thought I saw something. But it turned out to be a…” What was the tree animal Wild had mentioned that one time? “...squirrel.”

Sky frowns, tugging him back a little to look him in the eyes. “That’s all?

“Uh huh.”

“You’re sure.”

“Yeah.”

He barely has time to be embarrassed about his admittedly terrible excuse before he’s ushered back to camp, bundle of sticks in his arms. When he looks back, Ghost Sky is following him, practically bouncing on his heels.

Wind’s more than relieved. At least he's not upset. Angry ghosts are... less than fun to deal with, to put it lightly.

He dumps the sticks into the haphazardly cleared fire space, then gives Sky his sailcloth back. Legend is already standing by the unfinished fire pit and complaining.

Wild waits a few moments, then scoffs as soon as the complaints taper off into vaguely irritated grumbles. Legend drops the rocks he’d been collecting onto the ground, then uses his boot to arrange them around the shallow ditch in the ground with the sticks in it, arms crossed and staring judgmentally at Wild the whole time. 

“Well, forgive me for not having enough time to chop wood with all this stuff going on, my Slate still runs out of stuff.” After a pause, still looking down at the cooking pot he’s setting up, he adds a “Not like you’d know, hoarder.”

Legend chooses not to reply, dropping heavily on the ground by the fire and pulling... something out of his bag.

Wind doesn’t get a good look at it, because Ghost Sky is standing a few paces behind him, watching the interaction with an unbearably fond expression on his face, something sad behind his smile.

He catches Wind watching him and offers a little wave. The sailor returns it. The spirit wanders over to his living counterpart, parked at the edge of the clearing, carving something. He peers over the living Sky’s shoulder, getting a look at what he’s making, then makes an expression, guiding Sky’s hand over to what’s probably some imperfection in the carving.

The chosen hero rubs at his hand where his ghost touched it, seems to notice something in the wood, then fixes it.

“You just gonna stand there?” Legend asks, and Wind finally gets to see the wooden hoop with a swatch of fabric that he’s holding. “What’s so interesting about our many-greats-grandpa over there?”

“Nothing!” The sailor can feel his ears start to turn red. “I wasn’t looking at him,” he insists, walking back to where Legend’s sitting and dropping down next to him.

“Mmmmmmhm.”

Wind rolls his eyes, and watches Wild haphazardly throw vegetables into the pot. That… does not look like the right way to cook. His grandma never did that. Which was probably why her soup was better than his.

Hyrule and Four are looking through their own bags for items, exchanging conversation out of Wind’s earshot. They’re holding up bracelets-- just one in Hyrule’s case, and a pair in Four’s, comparing them. Wind thinks they’re power bracelets, but he can’t see from this far.

“Stop slouching,” Legend hums, looking up from his embroidering briefly.

Wind sits up straight until he looks away, then slouches again.

“You’ll ruin your back like that,” Legend says.

Wind rolls his eyes, then scoots himself over so that he’s leaning back against the veteran instead. “Better?”

Legend gives him an eye roll of his own. “Whatever.”

For the most part, it’s quiet for the next few minutes. Legend’s right arm only shifts a little as he holds the embroidery hoop in it, the needle in his left dipping in and out of the white cloth and occasionally pausing when Legend turns over the hoop to check that he’s pushing it through the right spot. Wild keeps an eye on the stew over the fire while he taps absentmindedly through his Sheikah Slate. Sky has his carving set aside as he dozes off, back against a tree stump.

Hyrule, who’d been busy rummaging through his own bag, looks up briefly and spots Legend’s needlework, clearly remembering something; he pulls out a red tunic with a hole in it from his bag and a small sewing kit, then walks over to the other side of the fire by Wild to patch it up.

Wild finishes dinner just a few minutes after Twilight, Time, and Warriors return from searching the area.

“Nothing dangerous ‘round here,” Twilight calls.

“For now,” Time clarifies.

There’s some more shuffling as Wild pulls some bowls out from his Slate, and the heroes’ masked interest is finally allowed to show as they all peek over the fire to see what he made.

“Just creamy vegetable soup,” Wild says. “I’m running low on ingredients.” He hands it out and they all settle around the campfire to eat, Legend gently nudging Wind off of him so that they can both eat.

It’s relatively quiet as they all eat, until Time offhandedly mentions their desperate need for a supply run soon.

“The only town we got to didn’t have any stores with stuff we need, though,” Wind points out, chewing.

“Let’s just look around for one, then,” Hyrule offers. “We all split up and--”

There’s four simultaneous groans. 

“No,” Legend says emphatically.

The traveler shrugs. “Worth a shot.”

“I’d support you,” Wild, sitting right next to him, stage whispers.

“We know, Wild,” Four mutters.

Hyrule gives him an unnecessarily wide grin and a one-armed hug. “And I appreciate you,” he stage whispers back.

“We know, Hyrule.”

“No, but really, we can go in groups of two, put Wild in one and Wind in the other, they can use their weird Sheikah magic to communicate, right? So why not?”

“Because who says you idiots are going to be able to track each other back?”

“We can figure that out later!”

“You’re insane,” Warriors diagnoses.

“I’m adventurous,” Hyrule corrects.

“Can’t believe I’m with Warriors on this one.” Twilight’s spoon scrapes at the bottom of his bowl as he gives Hyrule a disapproving look for enabling his protege. Still not as good as Time, Wind thinks.

Speaking of the old man, he’s just watching the exchange with amusement in his eye. He’s holding onto a second bowl while Four, next to him, looks like he’s trying not to fall asleep where he sits.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wind sees the spirit tilt his head with an unreadable expression on his face.

Conversation dies out and then switches to watch shifts for the night. Well, it’s practically routine now when we get ghosts--

“I’ll take first shift!” Wind calls immediately.

This earns him several blinks, aside from Four who’s gone to wash his bowl out. The smithy had taken last shift the previous night and was already feeling sick from the portals, so he’s definitely going straight to bed.

“...Okay, I’ll take third,” Sky says.

The remaining six look at each other, silently arguing over who’ll get second shift. It’s the worst one. Eventually, all eyes turn to Time, who poorly conceals a sigh and agrees.

Half an hour later, everyone’s washed their bowls and spoons and put away their items. Bedrolls are set up, the fire at a low crackle, and an orchestra of crickets plays the tune for the night.

It’s so… normal.  

Wind takes a moment to marvel at how peaceful the night is, how their lives have become, well, this, and then waits until everyone’s breaths have evened out and he’s sure they’re all sleeping. Even so, he gets up and paces around the far end of the camp aimlessly for a bit, and once he’s sure they won’t wake up, goes back to where he had been looking for firewood to try and find the ghost again.

He’s not ditching them, of course. He’s still close enough to hear if something happens (he hopes, out of anyone, it's not Legend or Hyrule who find him. They haven't let the incident with the split-up searching go since it happened months ago)-- but they are all sleeping on the opposite end of the clearing. So the chances they’d hear him talking are slim at best.

Before he can ponder that more, though, ghostly arms wrap him up in a tight hug. Wind nearly yelps at the cold and the sudden appearance.

“Wind, I didn’t know you could see me!” Ghost Sky exclaims, a huge grin on his face as he pulls away.

“I didn’t know you were here at first!”

“How are you all? What’s going on?”

Wind sputters at that. “We’re fine, you know that! You already did this whole adventure.”

Sky huffs. “Well, yes, but I don’t remember exactly what’s going on right this second for you all. You guys didn’t talk about the situation very much at dinner, I couldn’t figure out where you were from just listening.”

“We had an encounter with the dark a few weeks ago in Warriors’ Hyrule. Uh, we got dropped here and we’re going to the Deep Woods and--”

The ghost’s eyes light up in recognition and he stops him there. “Got it, I know this part. I’m glad to see you’re all well.”

“What about you?”

Wind almost fears the answer he’s going to get. He’d seen nearly everyone’s ghosts, a few times-- Ghost Legend says hi to him occasionally, Young Time and the two Fours politely acknowledge him when they cross paths, and Twilight’s ghost had seen him too one last time. But of all of them, he’d assumed that Sky would be the one to immediately pass on. Why wouldn’t he? He had nearly everything he wanted and he was open about it.

A girlfriend, a future as the founder of Hyrule, friends by his side… why is he still haunting?

“What about me?” Ghost Sky repeats, mystified. “I’m fine, as fine as you can be when you’re dead.”

Wind weighs his options and chooses the safer question. “But how did you… y’know?” Die?

“Oh.” 

His face softens and he offers a comforting smile. “My life was good, you don’t have to worry. I…” Ghost Sky thinks for a moment, then shrugs. “I don’t really know if I should be telling you this, but you mentioned it would be fine, so I’ll take your word for it. I married Zelda. We started Hyrule, we had the cutest daughters-- gah, I wish I could show you them, Wind, they were adorable-- but it was all fine. Most of the people from Skyloft moved down to the surface, and we’re on good terms with the Gorons. Groose-- remember him, he’s the tall one with red hair-- he was the first to move down. I… lived a long time.”

Wind hums, though his heart lurches. There has to be something Sky isn’t telling him-- no one stays as a ghost for nothing, there has to be someone he’s waiting for, something that wronged him, something that--

The spirit waits patiently for him to spit his question out.

“Why are you a ghost?”

The chosen hero blinks at him.

And then chuckles, and then laughs. 

What else had he been expecting?

Wind can’t help but mirror the smile when he’s pulled into another hug.

“You might still be adventuring with everyone, but I lived for another… what, seventy-odd years after we all went back to our eras? It’s been a long time since I saw you all. If I’m being honest…”

The happiness in his voice dims a little. “I think I was a little scared that I won’t get to see some of you in the afterlife. What with the timelines, and all.

“It’s just to see you all again. Zelda’s fine, she can wait for me. I started to forget a lot of things when I got older, so I… just wanted a reminder of us, how we were, before I pass on.”

Ghost Sky’s trying to mask it with a smile, but Wind would recognize that look anywhere.

“You’re still scared, aren’t you?”

The spirit smiles softly, and looks away.

“You caught me. I’m a hero of courage, though. Don’t worry. I’ll... be fine.”

A pause. The crickets quiet down, and the moon hangs up on its perch above the treeline, watching them.

“Go back to your shift, Wind. I’ll see you later.”

In the morning, Ghost Sky is gone. The living chosen hero runs his thumb over a groove in his near-finished wooden Loftwing, and with his other hand rubs absentmindedly at where a ghost had nudged it to guide its progress.

Wind never sees that ghost again.

 

 

---

 

 

Their adventure is over. They only have a day to recover and process that it’s done, the Dark is dead, and they all made it out in more-or-less one piece, before nine portals swirl into existence in a uniform line before them.

Something in Wind’s stomach twists with the thought that he might never see his friends again.

By the looks of it, they're thinking the same thing.

But when he looks back at their unruly group--

A future king who lives a peaceful life, a talented smithy of four brothers, an old man with a wife and soon, children, a veteran destined to finally leave behind a life of adventures, a traveler who will watch his kingdom flourish, a rancher with hope for seeing his best friend again…

A champion with a Zora princess watching over him, one of the most skilled captains in the history of the world…

He thinks he’s proud of them.

Not that he’d ever say it; he doesn’t even want to imagine the earful he’d get for saying such a thing as the youngest in the group, but they’re all going to be okay. They really are.

Time pulls them all in for a tight hug.

And then that’s it.

They say their goodbyes. Wind and Wild collect pictographs, and rush to print them as fast as they can to hand them out.

“Good luck, guys,” Wind says. “You’re all going to do great.”

“Big words from a child.”

Wind rolls his eyes and huffs. “I knew that was coming.”

Warriors sweeps him up for another hug. And a few minutes after they separate, they’re all ready to go. Or, as ready as they can be. He thinks Legend’s eyes are watery.

They each line up before one of the nine portals and hesitate. Wind remembers something he has yet to do. 

“Count of three?” Wild suggests. There’s varied sounds of agreement.

“Three, two--”

(“I don’t really know if I should be telling you this, but you mentioned it would be fine, so I’ll take your word for it.”)

“When we meet again, you better tell me about yourselves! No excuses!”

Wind doesn’t have time to hear their no-doubt confused responses before he dives into his own portal, coming out the other side to the sound of waves crashing on a ship and a shouted order from his captain.

Notes:

There's too many angst fics I just want happy endings ;_;

EDIT 3/3/2022: I just want to say that there's a part in here that lasts like 1 sentence where legend is embroidering and JUST because of that i, on impulse, mf went to a crafts store and learned how to embroider because I thought the scene would be longer + I didn't want to be inaccurate about it (and I figured that it might be a nice hobby). It's been like 6 months and I still suck ass at embroidery. This fic was not worth the $10 I spent for it (/j)

EDIT 2/7/2023: I gave up on embroidering. Do people still read this fic?