#ch. 18

[daily-chilchuck]

[mrsdaphnefielding]

[blconnoisseur]

Why is Chaejun’s whole scent thing giving omegaverse anjdjf it’s reminding me of Mangjong

[boxofcondoms]

[sednonamoris]

come all ye sinners

Pairing: John Marston x gn!reader

Summary: Driven from camp in the aftershocks of an earth-shattering shift in John and Abigail’s relationship, you find yourself in an unlikely situation with and even more unlikely ally. Is there a way forward?

Warnings: Gratuitous religious (Christian) imagery/blasphemy/etc., angst, alcohol abuse and intoxication (vague), strong language, lots of dialogue, extremely complicated feelings and situations lol

Word count: 2,464

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!! that is all <3

Series masterlist • AO3

—

Your hands ache with the repetitive scrubbing motion as you clean years and years worth of grime off the headstone of Dear Albert C. His is only the latest; you’ve been at this all morning. It takes a few more minutes of scouring against slate to reveal the full inscription:

Dear Husband

ALBERT CALLOWAY

1816 - 1889

The one beside him is for Loving Mother and Wife, Catherine. The one next to her is Dear Departed Maggie. The whole churchyard is filled with graves just like these; epitaph after epitaph on faded stone. Loving Sister. Our Angel Departed. Thou art Gone but Remembered. Even half-eroded and covered in moss the love buried on these grounds threatens to overwhelm you. It makes you think of a different church with chipped white paint, of a different graveyard with different names carved carefully in stone. Your parents wasting side by side beneath the unforgiving red dirt of New Austin, where you haven’t paid pilgrimage in years uncounted. 

You’re sure that if you try to step foot in any chapel these days you’ll catch fire. Even the hallowed ground of this graveyard burns, but when the local Reverend asked for help you weren't exactly in a position to refuse. 

Early last week you rode into town, renting a room at the hotel and then drowning yourself in whiskey at the shittier of Valentine’s saloons. You just had to get away from camp. It was suffocating. Ever since Abigail pulled John aside— 

Well, it hasn’t been good. 

No one knows what it is she said, but everyone knows that they’re not together anymore - really and truly split apart - and neither one has spoken to you since. 

Even as you’d helped John pitch his own tent on the other side of yours he’d avoided your gaze, ignored your questions and your consolations entirely. When you’d tried to ask Abigail over dinner that night if she was alright her red-rimmed eyes looked everywhere but at you. The fire. Her stew. A patch of sky and sunset behind you. Normally Arthur, at least, would break down enough to tell you something, but he’s still out near Strawberry - murdering half a town with Micah, if the papers are true. 

But being ignored you could have handled. The pointed stares ranging between annoyance and pity were what drove you to leave without so much as a goodbye.

You didn’t run far - only Valentine. The whole town wishes it had been farther; you’ve made an ass of yourself here. Between the bar fights and public intoxication it’s a wonder the sheriff hasn’t just locked you up. After drowning yourself in whiskey and fighting half the other patrons you’re banned from Smithfield’s for at least a month, if not for life. The grocer at the general store will barely sell to you, and the only reason you haven’t been kicked out of your hotel room is that you paid cash upfront. 

Keane’s is your last refuge, the rickety old saloon beside the churchyard, which of course is how you got yourself into this latest predicament. You drank yourself under the table with the bar’s only other occupants last night. All the stories about Jim ‘Boy’ Calloway hardly do justice to the way that man drinks. His bespectacled friend ought to go down in the history books beside him, the way he kept pace. The three of you drank and drank and drank some more, weeping into your cups about lives gone by, until finally Ned had enough and closed the place down. Mindless with drink you’d stumbled out the doors and into the street and right into something. Someone.

You’d snapped instantly - slurred, really - like it wasn’t entirely your fault. 

“Apologies, my child,” a serene voice had said. 

“Ain’t nobody’s child no more.”

You’d shoved whoever it was out of the way with a snarl and promptly lost your balance, falling flat on your face and into the mud Valentine is so famous for. It’s hard to remember much after that. A voice calling out in concern. Gentle hands helping you up. A shoulder to lean on.

Then nothing.

You woke this morning to sunlight streaming in your eyes and a pounding headache. The room you were in was small and humble and entirely unfamiliar. It smelled of incense. Burnt-out candles. Hope, somehow.

“Oh, good,” an almost-familiar voice had called out, “you’re awake.” An older man of the cloth with kind brown eyes and a shock of white hair over a wise smile trundled into the little room with a mug of coffee and some bread. “I am Reverend Hampton. You were quite unwell last night, so I brought you here to recover.”

“Where the hell is here?”

He’d smiled at that like he was in on some joke you didn’t know about. “The House of God.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ.”

Your blasphemy had him laughing out loud, of all things, and once you fought to keep his proffered breakfast down he had asked, sweet as you please, if you could spare a few hours helping an old shepherd tend to his flock after you cleaned up. You thought maybe you’d be lighting candles for a service or hefting around pews he could no longer move, but since the sun peeked out from behind the Grizzlies’ distant peaks it’s just been you and a scrub brush and a bucket of murky water against the time and decay that has hidden Valentine’s past lives and lovers from view.  

—

You work well into the afternoon. There comes a point when your mind is quiet and your hands are raw, and that’s when Reverend Hampton finally reappears.

“So many names I have not seen in years,” he says, hands brushing over headstones like old friends. “Thank you, truly.” 

“I owed you after last night,” you grumble.

His easy praise makes your ears burn with shame, but he just gives you another one of those secret smiles. “God smiled upon me indeed when our paths crossed.”

“You’re about the only person to think so,” you huff out a disbelieving laugh. “Is that what you were doin’ outside a saloon at closing time? Looking for lost souls?” 

“I was trying to find Mickey, our resident vagrant. I had brought a blanket for him since the nights are still chilly, but…”

“But I ran into you instead,” you finish for him. “Sorry again.”

He waves your apology off with a weathered hand. “I have found that the people who need the most guidance are not the faces I see every Sunday at my pews. Charity sent me out of the church doors so late, but Providence brought me you.” 

“If your God sent me, he must not like you all that much.”

“I don’t know about that,” he laughs softly and takes a seat on the ground beside you, despite the ache it’s sure to cause his old bones, “but I do know He very much likes looking out for those in need.”

“No offense, Reverend, but what could I possibly need from you or Him?”

“A kind ear to listen, perhaps? Something is weighing you down. Where better than here to unburden yourself, with only me and the ghosts to listen?”

“I ain’t the confessing type.”

“It’s nothing so serious, I assure you. Think of it as a conversation between friends.”

You scoff, but it lacks your usual bite. “We ain’t friends, Reverend.”

His eyes sparkle with endless patience and good humor. “We could be.”

And so, in spite of everything, you start talking. 

All your troubles come tumbling out bit by bit. Each story is veiled behind the ambiguity of a killer on the run, and he’s certainly sharp enough to know you’re not the saving kind, but he listens like he cares. Like you really are friends. You tell him how John rescued you when you were just kids, and somewhere in between growing up you realized it would be you and him forever, ‘til the end of it all. How even after he left for a whole year you never once stopped believing that someday it’d be the two of you in twin graves with matching headstones just like the ones you lean against now. You try to explain the broken family he has with Abigail, now fractured further, and how it’s really your fault because you urged Arthur towards happiness even when you knew, deep down, no one would end up happy. How no one will talk to you and it’s just what you deserve but that doesn’t mean you can take it, so you tried to drink it all away and didn’t even get lucky enough to drown. 

Now here you are, run out of camp and proved right. Some ruined phantom haunting the life you almost had. Haven’t you just lived up to your name? And doesn’t it feel so good to be a harbinger of doom on the outside looking in, scribing the writing on the wall with your own blood?

You don’t even realize you’re crying by the end until the Reverend offers you an embroidered handkerchief from his breast pocket. The better part of the afternoon is gone now. Early evening sun does its best to warm you with the late spring grass. Birds sing sweetly overhead. The smile Reverend Hampton gives you is just as saccharine. 

“Sorry,” you croak. “Didn’t realize I’d be such a fuckin’ mess.” 

“It’s alright,” he says, still with that gentle smile. “Let it all go. You’ve held on so tight for so long. Let me be here to catch you today.” 

You’re not sure how long you sit there beside the now-clean graves of Valentine’s churchyard with the Reverend’s calming hand on your shoulder and his handkerchief in your hand. It takes several shuddering breaths before you come back to yourself. You rise slowly, extending a hand when he tries to do the same. He surprises you by going in for an embrace once he’s up, but where yesterday you pushed him away, today you pull him close.

“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay your kindness,” you say into his shoulder. “We both know I ain’t done much to deserve it.”

He pulls back to give you that bemused smile once more. “Kindness isn’t about deserving, dear child. Go in peace, and know you will always have a friend here. Always.”

You chance one last glance over your shoulder after saying your goodbyes. He waves serenely from the church steps, haloed by stained glass and goodness. For the first time in what feels like forever, your steps are light as you head towards home.  

—

If Karen is surprised to see you back she doesn’t say so, offering a dry salute from her post instead as you ride into camp. You tip your hat to her and smile as best you can past the nerves. The optimism only lasted as long as the churchyard was in view. 

You have to talk to John. Get him to talk to you - it’s all the same in the end. Just as terrifying any way you frame it.

Once you’ve dawdled as long as possible untacking and unpacking the little you’d brought to Valentine, you begin your search. He’s not in his tent. He’s never there this early in the evening, anyway, and though the thought crosses your mind that he might be away, the scowl on Abigail’s face across camp erases it. He isn’t occupying any of the logs around any of the campfires, even the one Javier strums tunelessly at. But just beyond it, leaning against a tree, you find him.

John says nothing as you approach. Doesn’t even look up from his book, though you know he knows you’re there. He looks like shit. His scars are fine - better, even, than when you left - but his skin is pale and the dark circles under his eyes are prominent. His hair falls in dark tangles around his face, and his brow is pinched like it gets when he’s worried or overthinking - or both. It’s hard not to stare at the razor edge his mouth cuts against the angles of his face. 

“Hey,” you say. It’s stupid and not enough, but at least he looks up at you. The lightning in his eyes - anger and hurt and flash floods - almost makes you wish he hadn’t.

“Hey.” His isn’t as nice. “Surprised you came back.”

You fold your arms. “Surprised you’re talkin’ to me again.”

“What the hell was I s’posed to say, huh?” And here is the anger he had muzzled a week ago. Here is the wounded animal lashing out teeth first; His lip is curled, snarling. “What do you want me to say? You told Arthur to— Abigail left me.” 

It’s worse, somehow, to face this quiet rage than the screaming match you sense itching beneath the surface of his skin. He wants to be angrier. Louder. Meaner. He doesn’t want another scene.

You haven’t forgotten that even blunted knives can kill.

“You think I don’t know that?” you say. “You think I don’t hate that? Look, if I could take it all back—” you cut yourself off with a frustrated growl. “I can’t take it back. Neither of us can.”

“So, what? I’m just supposed to forgive you?”

You can feel your eyes flash, affronted. Angry. Reverends are for forgiving. Saints and Christs and Gods. Neither of you is any one of those. There is no stained glass story painting your hurt in pretty colored shards over open doors and under tall steeples. There is no memorial of pain and sacrifice carved into any cathedrals. There is only you and him and this ugly, hurting thing between you. 

“No, you ass,” you seethe. “You can hold a grudge forever, all I care. Never forgive me! Hate me, even. But if you think you’re getting rid of me you’ve got another thing coming. I ain’t never leaving you, John Marston. Not ever.”

He opens his mouth to argue further, only for it to snap shut just as quick when he registers what you’ve said. You stand there like that for a long moment. Chests heaving. Eyes burning. Just staring at each other. 

“You’re a stubborn idiot,” he finally says, folding his arms and looking away.

You bark out half a laugh. “Takes one to know one.”

 The sharp steel of his earlier glare is tempered soft in the golden evening glow. Something like forgiveness hangs in the air between you, shimmering.

When you stick your hand out for him to shake he eyes you for only a brief, wary second before taking it. His grip is calloused and warm. Gone too soon. But it’s done, and if there’s such a thing as salvation, you think it must be this.

[chinchintatap]

a different breed of sleep paralysis demon...

[i-love-you-all]

Tangled in Red Ch. 18

AO3 Link here | Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

Sometimes things just go downhill. What can you do about it?

~150 word excerpt

There was a moment of focus that Breach only achieved when he was at his lowest. It alerted him to everything, the beads of sweat currently running down his face, the scrapes along his shin, the dull words that echoed from a life already lived in the past.

“I don’t want anything to do with him. Do I need to explain why? You, darling, are beautiful, worth every star in the sky. He’s only…”

“Only what?”

He was worthless. That’s what his father said about him, unaware that he was listening through the cracks at the door. Not that it mattered when he was in jail for the rest of his life, and Breach had both made a name and a fortune for himself. It was all done without his father, so why did that word still bother him so much? Breach kicked the bag one last time and winced as the chain broke and the bag thudded to the ground in a cloud of dust and sand before flopping over.

[circuits-unending]

Ch. 18 - Navigators

A slow, gentle hum was all that could be heard in the cavernous stone room. A large hand with long, clawed nails laid pressed on the ground, palm down, the Pitch curled up on the back of it seeming tiny in comparison. Annie’s own nails raked softly against the knuckle of the hand, humming an age-old song. Massive blue eyes stared down at her, dirty blonde hair draping over their face.

“Day to night….dark to light...fall the sands of time…” Annie’s voice was quiet when she sang, cracking with certain words.

“To sing the Song of Healing to me is a bit odd for you, Annira.” The large woman looked down at Annie with a sad fondness, her other hand moving towards the Pitch, a single nail gently pushing Annie’s hair from her face.

“You’re the only one I’d sing it to other than Eluvis or Rana. And I see you a lot anyways, so it's only natural we’d get at least somewhat close. I don’t really talk to anyone else.”

“Ah, yes. You do get hurt very often. A Great Fairy was surely a welcome addition with how clumsy some of you are.” The woman chuckles, the water around her rippling as she shifts.

“Mmm,” Annie hums, placing her hands under her cheek. Soon after, the clicking of clawed feet and hands on the ground echoed in the room, signalling the arrival of another.

Three sharp whistles sounded, Annie’s ears perking at the sound. She sighed, sitting up, and looked over at Bandit, who now sat crouched on the ground a few feet from the entrance to the Fountain. He kept his head down, hands running over the stone floor, humming lowly in small intervals.

“It seems you are being called, Annira. Go on, now.” The fairy gently pushed Annie off of her hand, nudging her towards where Bandit sat. Annie groaned, leaning into the finger that pressed against her cheek, before turning on her heel and following Bandit out of the room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ciela.” Annie calls out before disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So...you can just... Create portals on a whim? Like...just...poof.” Sky stared at Rana, who held back a chuckle.

“Yes, pretty much. Also, question. How are the two Reflections currently? Does that mirror I gave you work well?” Rana pointed to the bag slung over Sky’s shoulder. He looks down at it, patting the side.

“Yeah, it seems to work alright. So...you know where the others are?”

“Yes. Aoife, Lucas and Sean are in the Era of the Wilds. Ray, Gloam and Tyrant are in Ray’s Era, the Era of the Hero of Time. I will be taking you to that Era, then I will go and get those three and bring them there as well.”

“Why that Era specifically?” Torrent fiddles with belts at his waist, which had gotten tangled as he had put them on. After fixing them, he absently rubbed at the newly-shaved sides of his head, mussing the longer top. Serenity was tying a small string around a longer strand of hair at the right side of her head, a solemn look on her face. “What’s so special about it?”

“Well, that Era is where the timelines split into three. It’s one of the most important Eras of all, and it is likely the place you’ll get the most answers to questions you have, whether they regard this journey, or something you’ve wondered for years before.” Rana flipped her hair out of her face, eyeing Four, who sat in one of the larger chairs a few feet from the group. “Now, I’m still on the fence about transporting your Converging friend over there, but if he really thinks he can handle it, then I can’t exactly deny his request.”

Four’s eyes shifted to the group, and a tired smile barely graced his lips before falling again. His breathing was heavy and ragged, and he struggled to raise his head from the back of the chair. He finally pulled himself to sit up, using the Four Sword to hold himself up as he stood.

“I will be fine. I’m not going to just sit and wait to die, so I might as well keep going while I can. Besides, you said that Era could have answers. Maybe it can give some for me, something that could help me.” Four looked at Rana, a determined look in his eyes. She nods, but her concerned expression didn’t change.

“Alright. If you’re sure.”

~~~~~~~

Warrior sat on the grass outside the castle, a small Triforce pin in his hands. He stared down at the pin, running his fingers over it, ignoring the soft grunt that sounded beside him as someone sat down. Torrent’s tell-tale orange pants appeared in the corner of his eye, but Warrior didn’t look at him, simply continuing to stare down at the pin.

“What’s up with you, Mr. Knight?” Torrent rested his arm on one of his knees, pushing the braid at the side of his head back behind his ear.

Warrior shook his head. “We couldn’t get to him in time….He got really hurt because we just weren’t fast enough. Ravio won’t leave his side, we have to pull him out of the room so he’ll actually sleep instead of just staring at Tear the whole time. He has an Infection now because of it.”

“You couldn’t have done anything more, Warrior. Rana was able to get to him, he’s alive. The other Era might have a way to help him.”

“How do we know that’ll even work?! What’s so special about the Era of the Hero of Time anyways?! I’ve heard all these legends about it, hell, I’ve DRESSED as him before, my Zelda has dressed as the Princess from that Era before. We’ve….we’ve heard all these stories, but...what makes it so special?”

“Well,” Torrent pulls his other leg towards him, sitting crisscross, “apparently that Era is where everything was supposed to end. Like. The world was meant to end then, forever. Every single person would die. Plants would shrivel and the water would all dry up. The magic of the land would be gone, because the Triforce was meant to lose all of its energy. But, instead. Five girls were born to the Gerudo tribe in the desert there. And with them, they brought power back to the Triforce, and brought the energy of another Force into the world again. A Force that they thought had been lost to them a long time ago. And so, the world kept going. But with their arrival, an evil was brought in. I’m sure you’ve heard of him.”

“Ganondorf.”

“Mhmm.” Torrent hums, staring off across the field. “Honestly, he was a nice guy. He was just...broken. I think the loss of his daughters hurt him more than he could bear. Knowing how badly he had failed them and how a blessing he gained from one of them, just made him do terrible things.”

“A blessing?”

“Only people specifically touched by a Goddess can wield the Triforce or any of its pieces. The touch can be inherited as well, through blood or blessing of a Wielder that had it. I don’t know whether I inherited mine or if I was blessed. But… One of the daughters still exists. Her name is Skylar.”

“I know her.”

“Right...she had come through during that War of yours. Serenity is her descendant, and the next Farore. But Skylar is from that Era. She was born the same day the Hero of Time was. But her mother was forced to abandon her in the woods, leave her to die. The Great Deku Tree instead allowed her to be reborn as a Skull Kid, and she even helped raise the Hero of Time, and gave him the Blessing of Courage, so that when the time came...He’d be able to either wield the whole Triforce, or if it were to be split, he’d get Courage.”

“How do you know so much about this?”

“Serenity. She’s told me a lot about it. She inherited the knowledge of it from Skylar, and she’s something of a Guardian of Time here. At least, she’s the closest thing we have to one. Might just be because she’s a Farore.”

“Huh...So the Era of the Hero of Time. It’s where the timelines split, right?”

“Yes. This one is the result of the Hero of Time going forward in time, defeating the King of Evil, and then returning to his own Era. We’re the timeline he left behind. Ganondorf returned, and a Hero didn’t show up, since he had taken the Force of Courage back with him, so through some divine intervention, my guess is through Skylar, Hyrule was flooded. Ganondorf and all of Hyrule were sealed under the water. Skylar exiled herself to the Forest Haven, and so that she could be reincarnated again, she slowly began to turn herself into a tree. She couldn’t move from her spot anymore when I met her. I was only 12…”

“What was she like then? I’m guessing this was well before you saw her during the war again.”

“Yeah. I was 14 during the war so it was 2 years after. She was….so relieved when she saw me. She had felt when I was born, because for so long she had been waiting for the Spirit of the Hero to appear again. I met Serenity then, too. After everything, Skylar apparently sent Serenity to find me and Tetra, so she could see the world and do something for it, rather than hiding out in the Forest Haven for the rest of time. That way she could help protect New Hyrule.”

“Okay...but...how do we know we’ll find an answer to Tear and Four’s conditions in that Era?”

“Well, according to Serenity...The Hero of Time killed his Dark. Which, you’re not supposed to do, contrary to popular legend. Killing your Dark is literally killing half of your soul, which is then replaced by the Shadows that once made up that Dark. He did that, and was going to die, but...A Light Spirit healed him. At least….that’s what the legend says. Serenity isn’t very sure about that one, and apparently even Skylar was never sure about it.”

“Well, obviously it at least bought him time.”

“Right. You’ve met him recently, so...I guess that’s your answer. It’ll at least buy those two time until we can find a more permanent solution.”

“We?”

“Yeah, ‘we’.” Torrent stands up, extending a hand to Warrior. “I’m coming with you.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Warrior takes his hand, using it to help him stand up. “What with all the work you’re doing here?”

“Rana will be coming back here after moving us, and Serenity, Tetra and Aryll are gonna be here. I think they’ll be just fine. I just have to ask Anjean permission to keep to Lokomo Sword with me.” Torrent crosses his arms, and for a moment, Warrior can’t believe this was the same tiny kid he once fought alongside. “You know, I hadn’t recognized you guys at first. But that stupid scarf is pretty hard to forget.”

“Fuck you.”

“Nah, I think Zoey’s got you covered for that, I got Serenity.” Torrent cackles, running off. He turns around, running backwards, and yells back. “Better hurry up! We’re gonna be leaving soon!”

Warrior sighs, looking down at the pin in his hands. He repins it to the sash over his chest, and walks back towards the castle. He stares up at the castle in front of him, and something feels wrong. “Not supposed to kill your Dark, huh? Then why didn’t anything happen to me?”

The image of Warrior walking rippled, and Vanity sighed, cupping his chin with his hand.

“Because you and I are a very special case, Link…” He sits back in his chair, staring up at the metal ceiling above him. “Very special, indeed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rana stood in front of the group, hands clasped behind her back. Her scimitars were strapped across her back, the puffy white blouse embroidered with flowers a stark contrast to the gleaming black metal and orange metal. She looked over the group, and an uneasy air settled over them.

“Damn, stare at us any longer and we might burst into flames. Are we going or what?” DJ was the only one bold enough to speak up, earning a snort from Zoey. Rana’s eyes landed on the newest arrival, and smirked.

“Are all of you ready? Sky, are the Reflections in their Mirror?” Rana raised an eyebrow to Sky, who nodded, waving the small handheld mirror in his fingers. “Four. Are you still sure about going through?”

Four nodded, shifting the cloak around his shoulders. The shadow at his feet shifts, catching DJ’s eye. She huffs, crossing her arms.

“Can we just go now?”

“Why the rush, DJ? I’m moving you through Eras, it’s not like the time we leave really matters.” Rana stares at her, but DJ only stares back, her eyes like coals. Rana hums, turning on her heel. She raises a hand, an orb of blue and purple energy forming. She throws it forward, a ring of blue bordered by gold opening up a few feet in front of her. “You all will be brought into the field outside of Lon Lon Village. There’s a ranch up on a hill in the middle of it. Go up there, and ask for Malon, then explain your situation. She’s someone you can trust, and will likely know where your friends are. Be careful, though. You all need to be alert. That Era may be one of the most protected, but it is still one of the most targeted. Shadow Creatures like to lurk in the darker places of that land. So keep an eye out.” She turns back around, green eyes now a fierce blue. She steps to the side, extending her arm.

No one moves, unease still hovering over the group. DJ groans, stomping forward. “Y’all are pussies.” She walks through the portal with no hesitation, which spurs Zoey to follow her, and the rest soon follow.

Ravio stops near Rana, looking up at her. “You sure you don’t want to come with us after you get the kids? I think Tear would like to have you around…” His voice is quiet, and Rana smiles, brushing her knuckles against his cheek.

“Tear is a strong boy, and I think he’ll be just fine without me. You...can do that, too. You did fine on your own before, now you’re not alone. And Tear is going to need you, you can’t be scared to go off without me anymore.” Rana presses a kiss to Ravio’s temple, their hands intertwining. Ravio takes Rana’s left hand and kisses the back of it, his eyes settling on the silver band on her ring finger, matching his own. “And when this is all over...maybe we can finally do what we’ve been planning for the past 4 years.” They both laugh, and Rana lets go of his hands. “Come on. I’m still gonna walk you all through.”

When they passed through, it was like a ball of light enveloped them. This portal was much different than the ones that they all had been through before. It didn’t feel as if they were being ripped away from where they were. This one felt natural.

It felt okay.

Torrent stared above him, and in the rings of writhing light he could see pictures. Images of other times. Even pictures of himself.

The face of his little sister when he held her for the first time.

Him chasing a pig around the island.

Giving Aryll her telescope.

Unfamiliar faces passed by as well.

Red eyes streaked with blue. White hair whipping around his head as the earth beneath him was flooded.

A man in green surrounded by a ball of light, silver rings floating around him. A pale hand pressing against his face, before it disappeared.

A wheel of four colors in a young child’s eyes as they tried to lift a large shield that felt oddly familiar.

Finally, he stepped out, the images fading. It was quiet. The wind barely blew, and the sounds of birds began to creep in, and Torrent opened his eyes to a world filled with green. Even after having found New Hyrule, he still wasn’t used to worlds with so many trees and animals. A ways in front of the group were a couple houses, surrounding a large hill with a fence around the top of it. A horse was making its way towards them, and Rana’s voice shouted over the group.

“I have to leave now. You all know what to do.” She waves, turning back towards the portal. She ruffles Tear’s hair as she leaves, and the portal disappears after she steps through.

“Well,” Warrior sighs, fixing his scarf, “welcome to the Era of the Hero of Time everyone.”

The horse stops, a young girl with long black hair staring down at them. “Now who could y’all be? We ain’t heard of any groups like you coming through the caravan route. Y’all lookin’ for something?”

“Ah, yes.” Warrior steps forward. “We’re looking for a Miss Malon? We were told to come to the big hill here in the field to find her.”

“Ah, yeah, that’s my mama. Name’s Cremia. Y’all just follow me, I’ll take ya to her. Be mindful, though. The villagers aren’t too fond of newcomers who are all heavily armed. But if you keep to yourselves and are respectful I think they’ll be just fine.” Cremia turns the horse around, and begins to slowly trot forward ahead of the group.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Mama!! We got some navis here!” Cremia yells, before cantering off on the horse, leaving the group at the entrance to the ranch. Soon enough, a woman comes out of the barn near the entrance.

“Navigators? Surprising, we don’t get many of those...How can I help you?” The woman wipes her hands off on a small brown rag, then slings it over her shoulder. Her fiery red hair was set in a long braid, a bandanna around her head that was embroidered with a pattern that was vaguely familiar to Warrior, who again was the first to step forward.

“Are you Miss Malon? We were told you could help us find some lost companions of ours...Um, one of them goes by ‘Link’?” Warrior’s words gain a snort from Tear, though the captain ignores it.

Malon gives him a suspicious look, then nods. “Yes, I know him. But might I ask why navigators are looking for him?”

“Navigators?”

“Suspicious travelers. As in, travelers who just pop up in the middle of Hyrule Field through a big ole portal.” Malon slowly crosses her arms, and Warrior takes a moment to realize just how much more muscle mass she had than him. He clears his throat.

“Ahem...we’re...friends of Link. We got separated recently. And a friend of one of our group members was able to get us here. We just need to find him, we want to make sure he and any people that might have been with him are okay.”

“What’s your name, boy?” Malon stares Warrior down, who shifts slightly on his feet.

“Excuse me?”

“Your name.”

“Ah, uh...Some of them call me ‘Warrior’, ‘Knight’...One of the younger ones called me ‘Mr. Eyeliner’....a few times…”

“I asked your name, not the goofy nicknames they give you.” Her eyes felt as if they were drilling a hole in Warrior’s head, and he cleared his throat again, and his hand drifted toward his mouth, picking at his lips.

“Lmmn....” He mumbled, and Malon raised an eyebrow.

“Come again? I can’t exactly hear you when you got your hand over your mouth.”

Warrior quickly put his hand down, and by now the entirety of the group was staring at him, waiting for his next move.

“I said my name is Link. As is a few others in this group…”

“How many of the people here are named Link?”

Torrent, Sky and Four raise their hands. Four looks to Tear, but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to any of the events transpiring, so he simply shakes his head.

“Thought so...well, our Link is in his home village right now. But he’s going to be coming here in a few hours, so just give it a little while and you’ll get to see him. He’ll be bringing his wife along and, knowing him, I’m sure that’s the only thing he ever talked about if y’all really did travel together.” Malon chuckles. “Sorry to put you on the spot, Warrior. We’ve had some...unfortunate happenings recently, so we’ve been a bit more cautious than usual.” She slaps her hand down on his shoulder, causing him to flinch slightly. She laughs, waving the group over. “Come on, now, I can get you settled in the sidehouse, it should have plenty beds.” Warrior rubbed his shoulder, and Zoey hooked her arm through his, pulling him along.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, you’re the Hero of Winds?” Ray and Torrent shake hands. “Skylar’s mentioned you a few times. Vaguely, since she’s not really supposed to tell me about the future, but...enough. Great to meet you.”

“Y...you too. I’ve...heard so many legends about you, it’s kinda surreal to meet you in person. You’re….shorter than I expected. Still really tall, but…” Torrent coughs nervously, still shaking Ray’s hand.

“Fair enough.” Ray pulls his hand away, looking over the group. “Where are the kids?”

“Rana’s picking them up, they should be here soon.” Ravio answered, his arm wrapped around Tear’s shoulders.

“Rana?”

“My...fiancee…She can move through Eras at will.”

“Ah...well, congratulations, for one...and for two...Why is it that this Era is the one y’all are gonna congregate in? Why not...pick up Gloam and Ty and...go somewhere else?”

“Link…” Zorana frowns at Ray, putting her hands on her hips. Ray raises his hands up.

“What? Why is this Era the one that needs to have a mass gathering of heroes and goddesses?”

“Well, it’s possible this Era could help us with Four and Tear’s conditions-” Warrior starts, but Ray cuts him off.

“‘Conditions’? Wait, I knew Four had something but what’s wrong with Tear?”

The group goes silent. Tear stares at Ray, his hands digging into Ravio’s arm. Ravio breathed in shakily, wrapping his other arm around Tear.

“He was attacked by a Pitch. A Dark. And it’s getting worse very quickly….” Ravio ran his hands through Tear’s hair, the teen not taking his eyes off of Ray. Ray shifted on his feet as an old feeling of dread washed over him.

“There’s an old legend about this Era….” Torrent steps forward again, wringing his hands. “That...when the Hero of Time was an adult...he fought against the Dark counterpart of himself...And...apparently you’re not supposed to do that. It’s like...killing half of your soul, to kill your Dark. And he did...You did.” Ray clenched his fists, but stayed quiet as Torrent spoke. “It was said that the Infection he...you...gained from killing your Dark was healed by a Light Spirit… Maybe the same can be done for Four and Tear.”

Ray breathed in and out slowly, and Zorana’s hand rested on his arm. She looked over the group, her eyes landing on Four. “You...Four, right?” Four nodded. Zorana stepped towards him, letting go of Ray. She bent down to eye level with him, holding his face in her hands. She tilted his head to the left, brushing his hair back. Deep black cracks marred the base of his neck and beneath his ear. Four’s shadow shifted in its place on the ground, catching Zorana’s eye.

“Who is the one that sits in your shadow, Four?” Zorana turns his head to the other side, and Four snorts.

“Shadow. Literally. Sometimes I call him Rose, but...usually Shadow. He’s the Dark of the previous Four Sword wielder.” Four glances at his shadow on the ground, which went still as soon as it was mentioned.

“What happened to yours, dear?”

Four sighed, staring off to the side. Zorana hummed, letting go of Four. “I see...Well…” She looks over at Tear. “Come here, sweetheart.” She takes a step towards Tear, who jolts back into Ravio. She stops, raising her hands. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Tear stares at her, but doesn’t make a move to run again. Zorana slowly approaches, gently pulling down the collar of his shirt to look for any marks. “Where are they the worst?”

Ravio clears his throat, holding onto Tear’s shoulders. “Um...his thighs, stomach and back.” Zorana whips her head up to look at Ravio, horror in her eyes. She looks back down at Tear, who is staring back at her, a blank look on his face.

“Well, I suggest we take them to Ordon Spring in the south. There is in fact a Light Spirit there that might be able to tell us if there’s a way to fix this, or at least some way to give them more time until we do.”

“So,” Sky steps up, his face no longer holding the sick pale tone it had in New Hyrule, “where are Gloam and Ty?”

“They’re back in Kokiri Forest. We’ll bring them here later, they were asleep when we left.” Ray stands with his arms crossed, staring back in the direction of the forest.

“Wait, it’s the middle of the day, why are those two asleep? I mean, I’d have an excuse, but it’s surprising that those two would be sleeping this late in the day.” Four chuckles, leaning on his sword.

“They were both up late. Skylar said she could hear noise coming from both of their rooms, but they never came out.”

“Nightmares?”

“Probably.” Ray sighed. “It’s not any of my business though. If y’all wanna ask them yourselves, you can.” He turns on his heel, walking towards the pasture without another word.

“What’s up with him?” Ravio questions, watching Ray’s retreating form.

“He...isn’t exactly happy about all of this.” Zorana answers, folding her hands in front of her. “He wasn’t happy about getting pulled out of our home and leaving me by myself. And he certainly isn’t happy that your group seems to be congregating here. He really just wants to go back to the way things were, and not have to be on another adventure. Especially now…”

“I mean, that’s understandable. But I’ll admit, I’m surprised he’d be this upset. Most of us aren’t exactly happy about this, but...you know. Being a hero...this is what it’s all about, right?” Four scratches at a spot under his right ear, a confused look on his face.

“Well, the main thing is that he was upset he got separated from me.”

“Wait….WAIT ARE YOU ZORANA?!” Four screeches, causing himself to cough, Warrior instinctively grabbing Four’s shoulders to steady him.

“Oh!” Zorana laughs. “Yes, I am. I’m guessing he’s talked about me?”

“You’re the only thing he ever DID talk about. He rarely spoke when he was with us, unless it was about you. Talking about you was the only time he spoke at length. I think Gloam and Lucas were the only ones that really managed to get anything out of him any other time.”

“Lucas?” Zorana narrows her eyes at the name.

“One of our younger group members. Lucasari. He’s from the tail end of all the timelines, along with Aoife and Sean. They’re the ones we’re still waiting for.”

“Lucasari...Is he...Gerudo?”

“Yes, he is.”

“I see. Sorry, it’s just...Luca is my sister’s name, and that name along with other derivatives of it are considered very holy and special names. It’s always surprising to hear others with the name. The name itself means ‘golden dragon’, and is a reference to the Sand Goddess of Gerudo legend.”

“That’s so cool!” Sky beams, leaning forward. “I’m from the Era of the Sky, I don’t know if you know of it. But I’m from the start of all of this, so I know nothing of the new cultures that form. Do you think you could tell me about it?”

Zorana snickers, nodding. “Of course. For now, though, let’s go down to the village mess hall and get something to eat. I’m sure you all are hungry from jumping portals so much.” She waves the group along, leading them down the hill.

DJ and Zoey trailed in the back of the group, having stayed away from the conversations, and Zorana.

“She gives me a weird feeling.” DJ mutters, causing Zoey to raise an eyebrow at her.

“Why is that?”

“She just….looks familiar.”

“Well, you and her look oddly similar. The eyes, hair, even voice. You’re much more crude than she is, but you have the same tones.”

“I guess so…”

“Have you remembered anything yet? You’ve been very quiet, I was hoping that meant you were thinking of something.”

DJ goes silent, her arms crossed over her chest. Zoey looks at her expectantly.

“Yes, I did.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The song Annie is singing is an excerpt from Nicki Jensen’s cover of the Song of Healing! This song will get referenced a LOT so go check it out!!

THE NEXT CHAPTER IS THE LAST ONE OF THE PROLOGUE!!! I’M SO EXCITED!!!

The first season is gonna have a LOT of Dark World stuff, and a lovely incredible amazing guest person will likely (hopefully, since we’re both gonna be busy) be helping me with landscape and mapmaking cuz I SUCK at that, but that won’t be for a while .<. I won’t be starting proper planning on the first season till after school lets out for me, which isn’t till the 19th I believe. Y’all will still be getting Reflections and a couple HBNNF chapters, as well as art once in a while, but I want to actually properly plan out the coming seasons and release them on more of a schedule like I had when HB started.

I know I said I was gonna post this tomorrow but I’m impatient : D

Anyways...

Stay crazy, my Lovely Proxies~!!!

Creator Twitchy out~