Doom from the Depths

by somerknights

Summary:

A plague is sweeping Hyrule; infected monsters, frequent blood moons, and new scourges. A party of nine stands between the people and the end of the world as they know it.

Notes:

this is a linked universe x dragon age (veilguard) fic

Chapter 1: The Flooding Canyon

Time squinted towards the dark sky, peering at the storm clouds for any sign of reprieve. He found none. The rain was cold and without any cover in the canyon, soaked through the wardens’ cloaks. Red cheeks, runny noses. Beneath Time’s hood, his hair was sopping wet, his bangs plastered to his forehead uncomfortably as they drip drip dripped water down his face and neck. The man glanced over his shoulder, taking in Twilight.

The boy’s face was turned down, his eyes wandering the ground blindly as he found his way through noise alone. The rain dampened his senses, and so he refused to stray more than a few paces behind his senior. He wiped at his wet nose fruitlessly, huddled beneath his rain-soaked cloak. The fabric clung to his body, revealing the truth of his small stature. Twilight often carried himself like a man twice his height, but he was hard to mistake for anything other than a child as he shivered against the cold.

Under their boots, the canyon floor flooded. It was damp at first, no dust stirred when they took a step. As the day wore on, as the rain poured unceasingly, the dirt turned into mud and then a slurry of muck. Each step came up with a shwick and landed with a splash.

Their progress was slow and Time knew they needed to warm up. The sun would be down soon enough, plunging the temperature even further. Time scanned the cliff sides, looking for even the smallest crag or ledge. He was blessed when he saw a dark smudge obscured in the fog.

“Cover,” Time announced.

Twilight lifted his face, flinching as a drop hit him in the eye. He rubbed at it with a pout, but drifted closer to Time.

“We’ll be there in short order. As soon as we clear the cave—”

Twilight grabbed Time’s arm, his eyes widening. The boy turned his ear, keying in for something Time had no dream of hearing.

Time frowned, his hand grabbing the hilt of the sword on his back. “Blight?”

Twilight nodded, his brow furrowed. “Behind us,” he muttered, glancing backwards. “Darkspawn.”

“Right,” Time huffed.

He drew his sword, the silver blade catching what frail scraps of daylight were muffled through the rain. He held it out ahead of himself, scrutinizing the mist they’d come from. Time saw it then—three figures shambling through the storm.

Twilight moved without warning, shoulder checking Time. The shove was not hard enough to throw Time off balance, merely a wordless alert. Where they’d been standing seconds before, a thick quill sunk into the mud.

“Spiker,” Time spat. “Great.”

But the ranged adversary was the least of their concerns—spikes could be avoided. Joining the spiker were two hurlock warriors, both armed with massive warhammers.

“Armor?” Twilight demanded as he drew his own blade.

Time shook his head. “None.”

Twilight nodded as he readied his shield.

The spiker kept at a distance, bowing over as it sprouted new spines from its back. The hurlocks charged forth, one with its hammer over head and the other ready for a leg strike. Time ran ahead of his junior, his sword out in a shoulder hold. The man roared as he dashed to meet his enemy.

The hurlock bellowed in return, some vile curse leaving it. It cleaved the warhammer down, but Time darted around the mallet, lunging forth. A spray of mud exploded from the impact, splattering Time as he plunged his sword into the monster’s belly.

Twilight rolled backwards as the other hurlock swept its hammer towards the boy. He gritted his teeth and from his knees, sprang forth with a war cry. He slashed his sword upwards in a diagonal cutting, ripping the hurlock open from hip to chest.

Time jerked his blade back out, ducking just as a blight spike sailed overhead. It slammed into the mud just beyond him, but then the hurlock’s hammer smashed through the thick bony projectile. Time gasped, dancing back on his heels as the hammer nearly met his head.

As the hurlock followed through its mighty swing, Time stabbed forward again. His blade slipped between the ribs of the darkspawn and with a yell, he hewed it out through the thing’s back. Thick, leathery skin ripped open as he did, frothing rotten blood spilling from its claylike flesh.

Twilight dodged one strike of a hammer and then a second. He fell into a crouch and cut upwards, his sword tearing the beast from navel to rib. The monster roared, throwing the back of its hand into the boy. Twilight braced with his shield, the force of the blow sending him sideways. He kept his footing, stepping with the force of it.

As Time beheaded his own hurlock, he narrowed his eyes at the spiker. It reached over its shoulder, ripping out a third spine in hand. The thing pivoted, jaw open in a menacing screech as it hurled the weapon.

Time barked out a yell, cleaving the spike with his sword. The broken spike showered the mud around him. Time twisted back, preparing for a charge—

“ Gah!”

He swept his attention towards Twilight. The junior warden was down on his hip, fighting to keep his hurlock at bay. Its hammer had met his shield with a sickening thud , forcing the warden several inches into the soft ground. Twilight gritted his teeth, straining to keep the thing back.

Time swiftly snapped his momentum to the side, carving his blade outwards in a wide arc. The Biggoron sword tore open the hurlock’s belly. Between Time’s cut and Twilight’s butchering, there was very little left of the monster’s torso, and yet the thing persisted.

Twilight used the opportunity to recover. He rolled onto his elbows and thrust his weight upwards, dripping mud and rain water as he stood. Time saw that flash of menacing anger in Twilight’s gaze and knew the boy would punish the hurlock for forcing him down.

Twilight bared his teeth, lashing out with his sword as if it weren’t a precise instrument with a long tradition. He treated it like his fist then, surging all his raw power into it. His sword bit through the mangled flesh of the hurlocks gut and then carved through its spine, bisecting the darkspawn at its waist.

Another spike came for the wardens. Time parried, a dash of magic sending the spike right back on its trajectory. It punched through the spiker’s skull, pinning it backwards into the mud. The spiker and beheaded hurlock crumbled into nothing but ash and magic, but the halved one remained.

Its legs were still, slowly disintegrating into flakes. Its upper body thrashed in the mud, unable to lift its hammer without the aid of its lower body. The blood spilling from the thing, Time noticed, was jet black. It was like oil, some sick sheen on its surface as it pooled across the mud with a horrible odor.

Twilight whipped his blade again, severing one of the darkspawn’s arms. There was a wild look in his eye—Time had to end the fight before it drove his junior mad. Before Twilight could mutilate the spawn further, Time simply lopped its head off.

Twilight bristled, flicking a dangerous glare back at his senior. Time frowned, spying the boy’s unnatural canines, that bestial rage lingering under otherwise gentle features. Time sighed, planting his hand on Twilight’s head. He gave Twilight a harsh muss. Twilight melted somewhat.

Suddenly, he was embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said meekly.

Time squeezed his shoulder. “It’s alright, pup. That blood stirred something up, didn’t it?”

Twilight glanced at the sickly black blood. The monster was not disappearing as quickly as it should have. The blood still spread across the swampy ground.

“What is it?” Twilight asked.

Time shook his head softly. “I couldn’t say. Come—shelter.”

Twilight nodded quickly, following Time forward. Relief washed over them as they stepped into the cave. It was not level with ground, and so the cave floor was dry. It was warmer inside out of the wind and the rain and a few rotting crates and broken bottles signaled that this cave had served as a shelter before.

It was shallow, only a single chamber large enough for four men to lay comfortably. A few names and dates were scratched into the reddish walls, an old pile of burned wood and soot resting in the middle of the room.

Time and Twilight eagerly peeled away their rain-soaked clothes. They both shivered as they did, tossing everything into one sopping pile of cloaks and tunics. After they towel dried and put on something dry, Time dedicated himself to starting a fire while Twilight strung up their wet garments to dry.

The fire was warm and crisp, chasing off the damp chill in the air. It crackled and popped, slowly chewing away at the firewood Time kept in his pouch. Time sat down to maintain his sword, glancing over as Twilight cleaned his own. Twilight was ambidextrous, Time knew, though he was avoiding using his right hand altogether.

“You’re hurt,” Time said.

Twilight paused, glancing at his arm. “Just a bruise,” he replied.

“May I?”

Twilight nodded, looking away from his senior shyly. Time sat down next to the boy, pushing up Twilight’s sleeve. Twilight’s arm was stained with a deep bruise of muted blue and vibrant purple. Red flecks peppered the tender flesh and it swelled terribly. Time delicately turned it over, assessing it quietly.

“You should’ve seen to this before hanging our clothes,” he said.

Twilight nodded meekly. “Yessir.”

Time squeezed on the sides of Twilight’s arm gently. Twilight swallowed a whine, but tears stung his eyes as he grimaced in pain.

“It’s fractured, if I had to assume. You’ll have some potion.”

Twilight nodded again, guilt on his face. “Yessir. Sorry sir.”

“Pup,” Time sighed, ruffling Twilight’s hair. “I told you, it’s just Time.”

Twilight winced. “Yessir—Time. Sorry.”

Time dug into his pouch, retrieving a bottle of red potion. He handed it to Twilight, pinning the boy down under a stern look. Twilight had a terrible habit for hoarding supplies ‘just in case’ so Time made sure he watched Twilight have even a sip.

The little bit of medicine Twilight agreed to took the edge of his injury. Relief was plain on his face as he let out a quiet sigh. The bruising faded, losing some of its deep color. Twilight flexed his hand experimentally, but found whatever small fracture he’d suffered was healed.

“That black blood,” Time prodded. “Did it call to you?”

Twilight flicked a nervous gaze up. “...less call ‘n more like…like when you get a hair in your eye or sumthin’.”

“Unignorable?”

Twilight nodded.

“I see. I don’t know anything about it, but I believe it’s the same infection my friend wrote to me about. The one we’re headed to see.”

Twilight tipped his head curiously. “The captain?” he asked.

Time nodded, returning to oiling his blade. “The very same. I’m hoping he’ll have more information on it. If it’s connected with the blight…” Time let his thought trail off, unwilling to give it any credence. Instead, he changed the subject. “You’ve never been to Castle Town, have you?”

“I never been to Hyrule, really,” Twilight replied. “But my pa’s been a lot. He always bring back li’l souvenirs for us.”

“If you thought the keep was big, you’re not prepared for Castle Town,” Time teased.

“Really?” Twilight asked.

Time nodded, amused at the excitement in Twilight’s eyes. Still, Time didn’t have the heart to tell Twilight how busy the city was. He didn’t want to make Twilight uneasy by telling him about the noise or the stink. Twilight was already too young to be a warden, Time thought, he didn’t want to steal something as fleeting as childish excitement from the junior after he’d sacrificed so much.

Notes:

look man i just wanna be self indulgent XD

i played da veilguard in november and this has been kicking around my brain since then lmao happy to answer any questions! not tagged as dragon age bc its more loz with a sprinkle of da flavoring

you may have noticed the blind twilight tag. my mans got piss poor eyesight as a trade off for his other senses. he can see okayish in the dark but mostly just shapes and colors at all other times

also grey wardens my beloved <3

Chapter 2: A Secret in the Fade

Summary:

Legend and Hyrule stumble across the unthinkable.

Eternal summer bathed the old halls. White stone pillars sank into the verdant hillsides, walls etched with standard depictions of deities and blessings. Ornately painted vases sat shattered in grass-choked corners, glittering shards of old crystals clung to the silver threads of spiderwebs spanning the archways.

Hyrule stood over a golden brazier, hands on his hips. He scowled, his frown bunched to one side. Quietly, he examined a cracked power crystal. As the traveler took his time stabilizing the gem, Legend studied a tarnished owl statue in the center of the stone court.

The veteran drew his fingers across sun-warmed metal, feeling dents left in the skin. The court rested along the gently sloping base of a hillside. The white pavers were unsettled and crooked, the statue sat at an angle. Up the slope, Legend saw evidence of some landslide which left a scar sprouting young grass.

Hyrule finally straightened, cracking his knuckles. “Okay, say your prayers if you want.”

Legend looked over, crooking a brow. “It didn’t look that fucked up.”

“Well it’s not,” Hyrule agreed as he cupped his chin. “Not exactly, anyway.”

Legend hummed, traipsing over to meet his partner. “What’s that mean?”

Hyrule shook his head slightly. “This is… different somehow, doncha think?”

The veteran squatted, gripping the rim of the brazier. He peered at the blue crystal quietly, his lips pressed in a concentrated frown. He was not as inclined to this sort of magic as Hyrule—Legend didn’t think anyone was. Even so, Legend could feel what Hyrule meant. There was something like a snag in the magic, a strange imperfection.

“Well,” Legend said, “we can just leave it.”

Hyrule and the veteran traded a glance. Neither of them wanted to.

“Stand back,” Hyrule sighed, shooing Legend away. “If this kills us by the way, we’ll call it even.”

“Call what even?” Legend scoffed.

“The 50 rupees you owe me.”

“That was three years ago!”

“And I’m still 50 rupees poorer than I should be.”

The veteran rolled his eyes, blowing his bangs out of his face. “Fine, whatever. I’ll pay you in remnants then.”

Hyrule rolled his shoulders, letting out a steady breath. Legend crossed his arms, shifting his weight to one hip as he watched the traveler work. Hyrule closed his eyes, a tranquil expression sinking into his features as he focused on working the magic in the stone. His hands rose into the air as if shaping a ball of clay. They spun slowly at first, but swiftly became more assertive. And then, the boy opened his eyes.

The stone shifted, levitating from the bowl of the brazier. It ignited blue like a perfect flame. Nearby, a stone door shifted and groaned and rumbled as it sank into the earth. The jumpers were left with one dark chamber ripe for the pickings.

As always, before they entered, unsure of what lay on the other side, the two traded a fist bump. Hyrule crept behind Legend as the veteran led with his fire rod out and at the ready. The ruby jewel at the end of the rod flickered to life as Legend charged it with magic. Its warm glow washed across the dark chamber and there, in the center of the room, was some strange crypt.

Hyrule pressed his palm to his forehead. “I don’t wanna deal with ghouls,” he lamented.

“You won’t have to if I get to them first,” Legend snorted. “C’mon, help me out.”

The two pressed their backs to the lid of the stone coffin. Digging their heels in, gritting their teeth, they managed to shove the lid to the floor. It hit the stone with a loud thud, throwing a cloud of dust, motes, and seeds from the growth which feathered up between the tiles. The boys gripped the edge of the casket, bowing forward to peer inside an even darker chamber below.

Legend knit his brow. “I don’t hear anything, do you?”

Hyrule shook his head, a curious frown on his face.

The air beneath was deathly still. It was cooler than the rest of the ruins, untouched by the disaster which befell the ancient elves. Legend tumbled over the edge first, landing in a crouch. He held out the fire rod like a torch as he brushed himself off. Hyrule slipped down just behind him, his natural faerie glow faintly visible in the deep shadows.

“There,” Hyrule gasped, grabbing Legend’s shoulder.

Scrawled across the far wall, ancient writing glowed a clear shade of blue. The two approached it carefully, Legend’s eyes sweeping the floor for traps. Hyrule settled his palm against the wall, drifting his fingers over the rough stone.

“There’s something behind this,” the traveler noted, scrutinizing the writing.

Legend frowned. “I can’t read that, can you?”

“No, but I can’t really read anyway.”

Legend snapped his partner an incredulous look, but Hyrule either didn’t notice or more likely, simply ignored it.

Hyrule sat on his knees, pushing his fingers into the groove between the wall and floor. He could feel the magic there, deep and pooling as if leaking from some source behind the wall. He walked his hands up over the writing, rubbing the heels of his palms in from one brick to the next.

Legend sighed, leaning against the wall. “We might need to make camp—”

Silt shifted from the ceiling. Legend’s shoulder pressed in on a brick, causing the wall to quake. The two jumpers swapped equal looks of bewilderment, quickly shuffling back to brace for the worst. The bricks began to separate and twist, folding one column at a time out of the way. Legend and Hyrule stared in disbelief at the secret just beyond the wall.

There was some strange pod—a case of rounded glass—filled with almost pure magical essence. The blue fluid trembled as the walls shook, splashing against the grimy walls of the enclosure. Hyrule and Legend cautiously approached the case.

“Goddess save us,” Hyrule gasped.

“A person ?!” Legend balked.

Resting in the opaque, glowing liquid was a boy who looked to be their own age. His eyes were closed, his hands folded over his chest as if he lay in a casket. His lips were parted, magic clinging to his skin like a film. Legend used his sleeve to clear years of dust and dirt from the grass. There was color in the boy’s cheeks—he was alive .

Notes:

combing loz with da is so fun actually XD

also artistic liberties ok dont lore lawyer (loreyer???) me

Chapter 3: Clear Skies

Summary:

With the weather clear, Time and Twilight continue their trip to Castle Town.

The rain cleared overnight. Although the canyon floor was still soft, the creeks swollen past their banks, travel was much easier beneath the sunlight. Twilight strayed behind Time, too fascinated to keep pace. Time could hardly blame Twilight—it’d been years since the senior was new to Hyrule, but he remembered his own wonder even as brief as it’d been. Time wondered what the experience was like for Twilight. There was little chance the junior saw more than smears of red rock on either side and if he were lucky when a cloud blocked the light, possibly the faintest bit of purple along the cliff face.

Twilight’s eyes were poor, but the boy had a way of seeing the world regardless. The warm wind rushed down the gorge’s natural corridor, making it whistle through holes in the formation and howl past rickety scaffolding far overhead. He heard the rattle of insects—grasshoppers and beetles—and the occasional thumping of lizards falling to the ground and scuttling away. He could smell flowers too small to pick out from his blurry vision, he could hear the whisper of running water slipping under foot through thready streams carving the mud.

It was a far cry from the wide expanses of brilliant green he was so used to in the springtime. It was warmer than Ordon for this time of year, dryer too. What vegetation he did brush his hands over was dry and scraggly, thirsty and determined despite the harsh conditions.

Twilight dragged his calloused fingers over the rough cliff side rising high, high above him. The previous day’s rain had cloaked the stone in a dense fog, making the canyon’s height impossible to judge. Looking upwards now that it was clear, Twilight could see where the natural orange shade of the sandy rocks butted up against the oppressively blue sky.

The boy paused as his fingers met something smooth. It was like a hide, thick and rubbery without a blemish. He explored a shallow dip in its surface. Twilight glanced towards the wall, peering at a smudge of purple. Squinting, he could make out a blob of lilac jutting out from the stone, darker on the top than it was on the bottom. Sliding his fingers over the lip of it, he found sturdy frills and smooth stalks.

“...mushrooms?” Twilight guessed, surprised.

Time glanced back. Neither him nor Twilight were particularly talkative people, and Time welcomed the quiet company compared to most of their fellow wardens.

“Aye,” Time answered, wandering back towards Twilight. “Rushrooms, specifically.”

Twilight hummed curiously, leaning his head in. He took a sniff, his eyes wandering in thought.

“Well?” Time asked, amused.

“Musty,” Twilight decided. “Kinda like…like ol’ sweat, maybe.”

“I’m not surprised.” Time reached over, snapping the fungus from its base. “These are good for stamina,” he explained. “They’re too tough to eat raw, but they stew well.”

“You sure know lots,” Twilight remarked.

Time shrugged, stowing the mushroom in his pouch. “I’ve been through this canyon more times than I can count.”

Twilight smiled, an eager look on his face. “Mido says you been ev’rywhere.”

Time rolled his eyes over a smile. “Hardly,” he snorted.

The two wardens started forth again. Twilight kept up with Time, keen on hearing more about the seasoned fighter. Time was something of a myth back at the fort. He wandered its halls like a ghost, his stern eye wordlessly correcting junior wardens and commanding respect from even his own seniors. There were tens of legends about the man and hundreds more rumors. Some said he was immortal, some claimed that Time would never have a calling, that he was from a different plane entirely.

“He says you got friends ev’rywhere too.”

“That’s more likely,” Time agreed.

“What’s your fav’rite place been, sir?”

“There you go with ‘sir’ again.”

Twilight paused, the tips of his ears warming. “Sorry sir—Time.”

“Well, I’ve been to the Kokiri Forest,” Time sang, a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Twilight’s steps slowed a moment, his face caught in confusion. Time cleared his throat. The boy scampered to catch up, falling in step with his senior again.

“I thought it ain’t real ,” Twilight pressed.

“Oh, far from it,” Time replied casually. “It’s like a living fairytale. Skull children, fairies, the Kokiri themselves. You know I’m good friends with them.”

Twilight knit his brow. “You’re yankin’ my horn,” he huffed.

“I would never ,” Time said, feigning offense.

“If you know the Kokiri, then I hatch from a pumpkin.”

Time glanced down, chuckling at Twilight’s look of childish impatience. When they first met, Twilight was a gloomy thing, always lurking, always quiet. Time was assigned to be his mentor due to so-called behavioral issues, though he’d seen none of them. Twilight had a penchant for mischief, yes, but overall, Time found the boy was only shy. It took a few weeks, but slowly, Time began to coax the junior warden out of his shell.

“What’s Castle Town like?” Twilight asked suddenly, his voice quiet as his thoughts wandered.

Time hummed, drumming up an answer. “Large, busy. Some of the rudest people I’ve ever met hail from Castle Town, but some of the bravest too. You can put a price on anything there if you like.”

“Like what?”

Time shrugged. “You can buy and sell just about anything, there’s plenty of gambling.” Time turned a strict look onto Twilight. “Which you will not do.”

Twilight agreed without argument.

“Do you drink?” Time asked.

Twilight flicked a nervous gaze up. “Should I…well d’ya want the truth?”

Time snorted. “Yes, pup. We’re not at the keep—you’re not sworn to sobriety out in the wilds of Hyrule.”

Twilight nodded. “Yeah, sometimes. Though I ain’t since I join up.”

“I’ll treat you, then. I’m sure the captain will take us out anyway.”

“What’s he like?”

“Warriors?”

Twilight nodded.

Time tipped his head, watching a thin cloud pass overhead. “Despite being vital to the army, he’s often more concerned with his hair. He’s sharp, though—a brilliant tactician.”

“Is he old?” Twilight asked, glancing up.

Time crooked a brow. “Old?”

“Well, like you,” Twilight answered honestly.

Time narrowed his eye. “I’m not that old.”

Twilight said nothing.

“No,” Time sighed, “he’s not. He’s a few years younger than me.”

Twilight nodded, counting on his fingers. Time did not like how many fingers that math took. Confusion passed Twilight’s features again. Whatever conclusion the boy came to, he was wise enough to keep it to himself.

“We’ll find you a set of nice clothes,” Time said, fixing his gaze ahead in thought.

Twilight looked over in mild confusion. “Why?”

“The crown princess is a dear friend of mine—haven’t I told you?”

Based on Twilight’s bewildered look, Time realized he, in fact, had not divulged as much. Twilight’s surprise sank into some pout.

“Ain’t fallin’ for that,” he huffed.

Time smiled. “I’m not joking.”

The boy mulled it over, trying to determine if it was another one of Time’s grandiose lies. Despite Twilight’s practicality, Time found him charmingly gullible. He was naive, perhaps, but Time saw to protect that part of his mentee for as long as he could.

Time patted Twilight’s shoulder. “She and I fought together, once. Nothing strengthens a bond quite like a life-or-death struggle, wouldn’t you say?”

Twilight stewed. “She’s a princess .”

“Yes.”

“Why’s she fightin’?”

“Why wouldn’t she?”

“Well ‘cuz—” Twilight floundered, trying to voice what he thought was obvious.

Time snickered, causing Twilight’s face to warm.

“I knew it!” Twilight huffed. “Yer jus’ playin’ me fer a damn ol’ fool, ain’cha? Ain’ no spring kid, no sir. I don’ b’lieve fer a second that’chou’s some frien’a the princess.”

When Twilight’s accent came out in full force, Time knew his fun was over. Twilight could be moody, but he was impossible to deal with when sufficiently irritated. Instead, Time only shrugged, not committing to whether or not he was lying.

Twilight rolled his eyes with a flap of his lips. Time hummed pleasantly, eager to see the look on Twilight’s face when he realized Time had been telling the truth after all.

Notes:

time and twi are both little shits actually. time just stopped caring eons ago

Chapter 4: Castle Town

Summary:

Time and Twilight reach Castle Town.

Late the following morning, the wardens set out from the Outskirt Stable. As they drew near Castle Town, the road grew busier and busier. Time made no mention of Twilight’s hand grasping the cape pinned to his armor, as if he were a child holding onto his mother in the market. Twilight’s eyes shined with wonder, his attention pulled in every direction. He could hear the trundling of heavy wagons and carts loaded with goods. He smelled manure on some and produce on others. People greeted them as they passed or offered spare change as gratitude for their service to mankind. Dogs trotted beside horses, cuccos squawked in wooden cages, pigs squealed inside horse-drawn carts.

Despite Twilight’s fascination, Time could see some anxiety mounting in his junior. The constant barrage of sounds and smells was overwhelming Twilight in a slow creep. As they breached the very outskirts of the city—a camp of shoddily built inns and stables just outside the outer walls—Twilight nearly clung to Time’s arm.

“Stay close,” Time directed the boy.

Twilight twitched his head in a nod, his eyes flicking in every direction as everything vied for a piece of his attention.

Time had never been to Ordon, but he gathered from Twilight that it was a small, rural community. Despite all his time in Faron, Time had never even reached Ordon Crossing, let alone the valley and village proper. He knew it was tucked into the foothills of the Faron Mountains, existing in some gray territory between Hyrule and Termina. Isolated from either country, Ordon was largely independent. Impassable from three directions, despite the Gerudos being nearest on a map, Ordon’s closest neighbors were effectively those in Kakariko—a two days’ ride on a healthy horse.

Fort Oseira was a quiet place too, its halls steeped in a tradition of strict discipline. The junior wardens were discouraged from roughhousing. Outside of cards on a Friday night, they were meant to spend their free time studying history or honing their skills. They were not in the position to speak their minds often, nor were they allowed to leave the keep except on official business. As such, Time knew it’d likely been close to a year since Twilight saw anything outside the snow-choked walls of the fortress.

Sporting their warden standards, the two were not bombarded by hawkers and merchants as they approached the preliminary gate. Castle Town was a vast maze of walls and barracks built around Hyrule Castle at its heart. Centuries of construction left it a mess of alleyways, side streets, and avenues. There were three walls to pass through to its center. First, the gates which opened out towards Hyrule Field. They rarely stopped anyone at the entrances, though merchants were required to go through the western checkpoint with their ledgers to deter smuggling. Anyone who looked suspicious or who refused to bribe an irresponsible guard was condemned to the outer village the wardens had already crossed.

Time nodded at the guards, slipping by without any trouble. He cut an intimidating figure, the sun glinting off his silver and gold armor, his blue cape bold and draped over one shoulder. The hilt of his massive sword was unignorable and the markings across the right side of his face were enough to keep most trouble at a distance. And despite Twilight’s gentle personality, he was prone to scowling and carried himself with all the surety of a man with no care for decorum.

Beyond the first wall were the poorest parts of the city. It was a ring of open-air markets, street vendors, and beggars. The buildings were built in slouching rows, often sharing walls or else separated by an alley no wider than a cart’s width. The streets were damp, running with muck and waste and blood from the butchers. Coal burned in the air, its black soot clinging to plaster and brick. There were performers jangling tambourines and beating drums, juggling or composing limericks for a price. 

Twilight nearly pressed himself into Time’s side, his knuckles blanching as he pulled a taut handful of his senior’s cape.

“Easy,” Time said patiently. “It’ll quiet down past the second wall.”

The wardens passed inns and bars with open doors, drunken men spilling to the uneven cobblestone streets. Twilight swallowed a gag at a punch of liquor and vomit staining the air and he looked pale as they passed a box of butchered animal bits and rotting fish heads.

They came up on the second wall, passing again without trouble though with closer scrutiny. The second wall was aptly home to the middle class of Castle Town. Here, the homes were built in small clusters rather than long rows. The markets were quieter, the vendors cheerier and pickier with their stock. There were ordinances regarding what could and could not be tossed out in the street, and the performers were less wild, confined to whatever rug they rolled out on the corners. Horses pulled coverless carriages through the rung of the city, working men and women shuffling either way from office to office and shop to shop. The scent of flowers was thick in the air, accented by the gentle touch of freshly baked bread flowing from bakeries. The harsh smell of shoe polish swept across the wardens as they passed a cobbler and Time pulled them off the sidewalk as a man rolled a cask of wine down the pavement.

Hugging the third wall was a large guard post. Two-story buildings were built in tidy squares, each one sporting a wooden sign out front marked with a number. To keep the riff raff out, there was a tall concrete fence hosting one gate posted with two guards in full plate mail.

Time stopped just in front of the guards, tipping his head in greeting. “Good afternoon,” he said politely. “We’re here on official business.”

One of the guards nodded, eying Time and Twilight passingly. “Wardens, eh?” he asked. “Don’t got blight in the city, do we?”

Time smiled at the light joke. “Not to my knowledge.”

“I know you’s good men,” the guard said, “but security’s been slack lately. You got papers?”

Time nodded, reaching into his pouch. He produced an envelope with an official seal. The wax was broken down the center, but the crest of the Hyrulean Army was still obvious on the sapphire stamp. The guard nodded upon seeing the seal.

“Looks like things’re in order,” he said. “Mind yourselves now ‘n don’t cause any trouble, sirs.”

Time bowed his head politely. “We wouldn’t dream of it. Come along, pup.”

Twilight nodded, shyly following his senior through the gate. It was quieter within the fence, as if all the world outside was muffled somehow. Green grass carpeted the lawn between buildings and a tiered fountain ran in the middle of a crushed stone courtyard. Twilight hardly had time to take in any of his surroundings before Time was herding him towards a long hall on the edge of the grounds.

Notes:

warriors incoming lmfao

Chapter 5: Awakening

Summary:

Wild wakes up from a very long nap.

He woke with a gasp, coughing over dry lungs. The hero pitched upright, frantically searching his surroundings. The echoes of explosions and thunder rang in his ears, the smell of rain, mud, and blood. He remembered pain throughout every inch of his body, he remembered a burning exhaustion clawing him into some dark abyss.

Instead, he was bathed in daylight. He shielded his eyes from the sunlight, squinting as he adjusted to the room. He found himself on a thin, firm mattress nestled in the crook of wiry winding roots. There were worn blankets draped over his lap, a flat pillow just behind him. He let out a quiet sigh, struggling to come up with a name for this place.

“Ledge!” he heard.

The hero startled, snapping his attention towards a door. There was a boy there, a freckled face hidden beneath a mop of thick chestnut waves. He wore a set of patched clothing, his green tunic almost matching the hazy emerald shade of his big eyes.

The boy turned back around, pausing as he caught the hero’s bewildered expression. For a moment, neither of them said anything. The hero suddenly grasped one blanket, hiding his body behind it.

“Sorry,” the stranger squeaked. “Um, there’s clothes there.”

The hero followed the boy’s fingers to a crooked chair. A tidy stack of wrinkled clothing was folded there, soft with age.

“Where am I?” the hero rasped.

“Hyrule,” the boy answered.

“Who are you?”

“...Hyrule.”

The hero drew his brow.

Hyrule held out his hands in truce. “No, really, that’s just what people call me.”

As Hyrule stepped into the room, a second boy followed just behind him. This one looked impatient, fluffy bangs fading from rosy pink into a shade of golden blond. His eyes were sharp, cool by comparison, a muted violet scowl finding the hero without a smile in greeting. He wore a skirted red tunic, a leather belt draped over his hips, and several rings stacked along his fingers.

“I dunno if I should be happy he’s alive or not,” the new one said briefly.

Hyrule shot a look backwards. “Don’t be rude.”

“It’s another mouth to feed, isn’t it?” Still the boy folded his arms, throwing his hip. “Name’s Legend,” he grunted. “What’s yours?”

The hero opened his mouth, a name just on the tip of his tongue. He paused, brow folding in confusion. It was murky, he thought, but finally, he dredged up something .

“Wild,” he croaked. “...I think.”

“You think ?” Legend snorted.

Wild nodded, glancing down at his palms. He noticed then that only one of his hands was normal . His right arm was a strange shade of slate and across its surface, odd runes glowed a faint shade of blue.

“If I had to guess,” Hyrule thought aloud, “you were in that casket for a century at least. I’m surprised that arm of yours didn’t destabilize.”

“What?” Wild asked dumbly.

Hyrule pointed to the hero’s arm. “Your arm—magic has a way of unraveling given enough time.”

“...oh.” Wild narrowed his eyes. “How much time?”

Legend rolled his eyes. “You got magic powder for brains?” he huffed. “100 years, give or take.”

“No way,” Wild murmured.

“How’d you even get in there?” Hyrule asked.

Wild shook his head quickly. “I-I dunno, I don’t even know where there is. What happened to me? Where am I?”

“You don’t remember?” Legend asked, his tone more neutral.

Wild shook his head again, doing his best not to panic. Besides his own name, there was nothing for him to latch onto. Wild lifted his strange arm upward, brushing his left fingers over it—

“ Fur?!” he balked, twisting his arm away as if trying to throw it.

Legend winced. “Yes, fur.”

“You’re not fae,” Hyrule offered. “Not that it really narrows it down…”

“Goddesses, am I even alive?! ” Wild asked, patting down his own face.

Much to his surprise, his body was riddled with scars. Thick bands of papery pink tissue stretched across his body, most of them on the left. He felt half his ear was missing, that there was a large bald patch just behind it.

“Calm down,” Hyrule eased. “We wanna get to the bottom of this too.”

Legend nodded, handing Wild a glass of water. To all their surprise, he snatched it, chugging it down as quickly as he could. It soothed a dry throat, but then Wild groaned, his belly hurting at the sudden flush of contents.

“Easy there,” Legend sighed.

“Why don’t you get washed up?” Hyrule suggested. “I’ll put on some tea.” He grinned hiding his mouth as he jerked his thumb towards Legend. “Between you ‘n me, vet makes pretty good cookies— ow! ”

Legend grabbed Hyrule in a vicious headlock. “Do not ,” he huffed, though his cheeks were red. Legend released Hyrule with a shove, whipping his ire back on Wild. “Try and think of anything you do remember. We’ll need as much as we can get.”

Wild nodded meekly, though somehow, he felt as though any effort would be futile.

Notes:

oh shit boi hes a FURRY NOW???

Chapter 6: Old Friends

Summary:

Time meets with Warriors. Twilight and Warriors meet.

“I’d say you haven’t aged a day,” Time sang as he stepped into the office, “but that would make me a liar.”

On the other side of the desk, a younger man shifted a glare upwards. A flat frown greeted Time and for a moment, the two men simply held each other’s scowl. Finally, the tension cracked, both of them breaking into toothy smiles.

“As if you never aged a decade overnight,” Warriors replied.

The captain stood, wedging himself around the desk to grab Time in a hug. Awkwardly, Twilight waited in the doorframe. The building they were in was narrow, the halls hardly wide enough for two men to get around one another. The windows were sparse, pale daylight doing very little to light the long corridors. The walls were plaster, painted a chalky shade of peachy orange, and there was very little decoration throughout the place.

Warriors’ office was upstairs, all the way on the opposite side of the building from the stairs and entrance. Twilight thought office was a generous word. He knew the horse stalls in Ordon were larger than the broom closet he peered into now. The desk took up more than half the space, its top a mess of papers and ink spills and melted wax. Clearly, the captain was a busy man.

Twilight could make out very little of Warriors’ face, even in the relatively dim lighting. He could see a crown of fair blond hair, the smear of some royal blue scarf not dissimilar to the cape Time wore over his shoulder. The captain wore a green tunic and pieces of polished armor on his shoulders and knees. More telling was his smell—perfume, herbs, flowers, and sweet wine.

Time helped himself to a chair on the visiting side of the desk. Warriors paused, surprised when he spied the much smaller warden hunched uncomfortably in the threshold.

Warriors turned a wide-eyed look onto Time. “You and Mal—”

“No,” Time said, raising a hand as he cut the captain off. “This is Warden Twilight, my junior. I’ve been asked to raise him up.”

Warriors crooked a brow. “And here I remember some snot-nosed brat telling me he’d never be a babysitter.”

“I’m not,” Time said easily. “Twilight’s plenty capable. It’s a matter of direction.”

Warriors hummed, finally sticking out his hand towards the boy. “Captain Warriors. Charmed.”

Twilight ducked his head in a shy greeting, refusing to look up at the man.

After a moment, Warriors withdrew his hand, wiping it on his chest. Instead, the captain helped himself to his own chair, leaning back with a haggard sigh.

Time jerked his head towards the wall. “Twilight, sit down.”

Twilight jumped, nodding quickly. Unsurely, the boy sat down, his knuckles pressed against his knees and head bowed.

“You never visit for fun,” the captain pouted.

Time shrugged. “Well, when the world decides to be less dangerous, I’ll consider it.”

Warriors scoffed, rolling his eyes. “No, you wouldn’t. You’d make trouble just to stomp it out, in that case.” The captain sat upright in his chair, sifting papers around. “With all the schooling these nobles make such a fuss over, you think they’d be better at reading correspondence, understanding it, and then penning an answer of substance. Instead they live to make my life hell.”

“ You agreed to your position.”

“Said as if I had a choice.”

“Didn’t you?”

“What?” Warriors balked. “And become prince consort? Waste my days getting fat in the palace while these numbskulls drain the treasury with all their debts and gambling? Don’t be ridiculous. This squadron’s never been in better shape, you know.”

“I believe it,” Time said, amused. “You accuse me of being unable to settle, but you’re the one who puts up with all this pomp because you enjoy it.”

“I hate my job.”

“You love your job.”

“I hate my job,” Warriors reiterated. “Aha!”

Finally, the captain tugged free a crinkled letter. The paper was water stained, the ink blurry where rain had lifted it from the page. There were nicks in the corners and uneven creases down its length. The letter had gone through a lot to land on the captain’s desk, Time presumed. Warriors handed the letter to Time. The warden cleared his throat, tipping up his nose to read the page.

“You need spectacles,” Warriors remarked.

“You need to shut your mouth,” Time retorted.

Warriors remained quiet, drumming his fingers on the desk as Time read to himself. The senior was not a strong reader—he’d been sprouting into adulthood when he learned—and so he muttered aloud to himself faintly. Warriors turned his attention onto Twilight, scrutinizing the junior closely. Twilight was frozen like a deer.

“Awfully young to be a warden, aren’t you?” Warriors asked tactlessly.

Time lowered the letter. “I thought you prided yourself on your manners.”

“It’s only a question.”

“You’re suspicious.”

“When aren’t I?”

“...touche.” Time frowned, glancing at Twilight. He mussed the boy’s hair. “Forgive him his shyness. He’s not especially forthcoming, nor is he a fan of casual conversation.”

Warriors raised his brows. “Oh, so you don’t know either?” he assumed.

Time gave the man a look, picking up where he’d left off on the page again. As Time read, Warriors and Twilight were left in some uncomfortable silence. Twilight refused to look up, but his skin crawled—he knew Warriors was staring at him, picking him apart. Twilight became overly conscious of the markings on his face then, of the unnatural shape of his teeth. He adjusted his lips with the tip of his tongue, doing his best to hide them.

Finally, Time set the note down, some exhausted look bringing out the lines in his face. He fixed a quiet scowl on the captain, saying nothing as he processed the letter.

“Well?” Warriors prompted easily.

“Who wrote this?” Time asked.

“A certain friend of the Dragons.”

Time paused, his scowl turning into something more severe. “He’s a boy —”

“ That’s a boy,” Warriors snapped, jabbing a finger towards Twilight.

Twilight flinched, crushing his hands together in his lap.

“I thought we agreed not to drag Wind back into this,” Time hissed.

“ I did no such thing, Time. The fact of the matter is that the islands are also having problems. He wrote to me for help, he requested your assistance, and his report is far from unique. I sent my own men scouting and made a formal inquiry with the Incidents and Encounters office. The Veil Jumpers are seeing it, so are the Lords—even the Templars have been negotiating to borrow men for pilgrimage escort.”

Time folded his arms curtly, smoldering, his glare turned down in thought. “Is Wind on the mainland now?”

Warriors nodded. “He landed yesterday. He said the crew can handle the islands at its current state, though he’s not sure how long they’ll be able to. Tetra’s drafted evacuation plans just in case.” The captain glanced at his calendar on the wall, narrowing his eyes slightly. “He should be in Castle Town in three days’ time at the latest.”

Time nodded once, glancing towards Twilight. “Can you bear to be here that long?”

Twilight tensed, glancing over owlishly. After a moment, he ducked his head in a nod. In truth, he could hardly stand to be in the city for another hour, let alone 72 of them. Time frowned, sensing as much, though if Twilight refused to advocate for himself, Time would take him at his word.

“Fine,” Time said sharply. “We’ll find lodging in the Bully Quarter.”

“Must you call it that?” Warriors sighed tiredly. “Charge it to the purse. As far as I’m concerned, you’re here on official business.”

Time stood brusquely. “Come along, Twilight. We’d better get settled in.”

Warriors handed a few leaves of blank paper to time. Time snatched them, searching them in mild confusion. Warriors smiled dryly.

“Well,” the captain said, “I’d imagine you’d like to report to the old lady.”

Time huffed. “Yes, thank you.”

Without another word, Time pushed his way out of the stuffy office. Twilight glanced over his shoulder unsurely. Warriors offered a smug wave. Twilight bowed his head quickly in farewell, hurrying to catch up to his senior.

Notes:

time is so enigmatic in this au. he has been everywhere and seen everything. he and wars know each other way too well so they bicker a lot lmao also wars is a little bastard

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Linked Universe: The Triguard