[image description: a digital drawing of four characters from trangender-herooftime's aus, heroes gate and zelda universe. In the top left corner is mini, a pale 11 year old lying on their stomach and swinging their legs in the air while grinning mischievously and resting their chin on their fist. They are blond with short fluffy hair, a roc feather earring, light brown romper, and dark brown blacksmithing leather apron.
In the bottom left corner is kinnie, a black 11 year old child with braids that go down her back and end in puffs. She sits cross-legged in a purple princess dress, exposing an underlayer of pink bloomers, resting her cheeks in her hands and her elbows on her knees. She looks to the left, smiling.
In the middle is mask, a pale 19 year old with messy hair, red facial markings resembling their fierce deity's, and an oversized dark green sweater. He rolls his eyes, leaning on a table and holding a bottle of milk.
On the right is the final character, twilight. He is brown, with facial scaring and stubble, his curly hair cut short to his head. He wears a two toned green tunic, his hands on his hips as he looks over his left shoulder, and a wolf pelt around his waist held in place by a wide brown belt.
/End description]
it's Them! From upper left to right: Mini (Minish Cap), Kinnie (Minish Cap), Mask (OOT/MM), and Twilight (Twilight Princess), from Heroes Gate and Zelda Universe. The references are from Mellon_Soup's patreon, so I won't post them here obv, but PLEASE go check out mellon_soup's work!!
i was so excited to answer this until i realized that's 26 characters (12 links, 14 zeldas) so. lets get started omg
halloween in hyrule started as a skyloftian holiday to honor the spirits of the dead, observed by throwing sweets off of skyloft to the spirits below, dancing all night as a sign of celebrating what little life you may have left, and dressing in traditional costumes inspired by one's family tree. at midnight, the holiday goes from a time of celebration to a time of mourning, until the sunrises when there is a huge feast. over time this turned into people dressing in outlandish costumes and giving treats to strangers, especially children, and the few hours of mourning are only celebrated by more traditional circles, and then finally into a more 'halloween'esc holiday.
as the closest in the timeline to what the original holiday looked like, sky and aurora dresses up in traditional skyloftian festival wear, which is all hand sewed and hand embroidered with feathers from sky and aurora's loft wings, and as they are family, their costumes as a matching set.
minish and zellie dressed up as minish every year as little kids until the events of minish cap, when mini began dressing up as ezlo. zellie thinks it is hilarious. her and mini's costumes are hand made by her, and she always looks forward to the free honeycakes that the bakery hands out to children.
quartet goes all out on the scary costumes. he rarely splits during halloween, as he wants to enjoy the holiday all for himself, something that the colors grumble about before and after the holiday. he is a staunch observer of the hours of mourning, and dedicates them to shadow, something that makes quartz deeply uncomfortable. she doesn't like halloween, the focus on darkness making her feel too close to the dark creatures that imprisoned her. she never dresses up, but is forced to go to the celebratory feast, as per her duty as princess.
ocarina and sheik both approach the holiday from a sheikah perspective. the sheikah celebrate halloween more like Día de Muertos than halloween, but significantly more somber than Día de Muertos. Sheik has dedicated the hours of mourning to the entire holiday, and there is often fasting. while it isn't so extreme in ocarina's timeline, it still is a more serious holiday until the dawn feast. neither dress up
mask LOVES halloween, much to others' surprise, as he avoids childish activities like the plague. he goes all out, putting even quartet to shame, and loves to play pranks to get into the holiday spirit. he goes as a skull kid each year, and nearly identical to one and impossible to tell apart.
twilight celebrates halloween with the children of ordon with dressing up, candy, the whole nine yards, but in his era, the holiday is much more somber amongst grown ups, dedicated to remembering the twilight that once over took them. dawn fasts the whole holiday, and observes it as a day of mourning, though she has been bullied to dress up in twilight's ranch get ups to play with the children of ordon once or twice.
era grew up too poor to celebrate, and in the army it was most made up of pranks, as there was no time off for the actual holiday. now, he spends most halloweens beside tomoe at royal functions, bored out of his mind. she has them tailored matching costumes for them based on their connection to the Hero and the Goddess. They both look stunning, and eera hates it.
Wilds and sunny split the holiday in two, with the day being dedicated to partying and the night to honoring the dead of the Calamity and Upheaval. Wilds hand makes his costumes, with his most popular one being a korok, and sunny could care less about the actual costume, as long as she gets a sweet by midnight.
Halloween was forgotten when hyrule was flooded, so Waker and tetra never celebrated until meeting with the other links and zeldas. they still dont quite 'get it'.
Asteria doesnt make much of a fuss about halloween outside of a party in castle town open to all, and tends to dress in high regalia, something very different from her normal wear. Legend claims she's too old for halloween but comes every year, no costume in sight, to devour all the sweets and scare children with stories of her adventures.
hue goes ALL OUT, inviting friends from hytopia and producing costumes for all his friends, the children of his village, and shoving ravio into something attractive to wear at home for the two of them. iris is rather young but considers herself mature enough for her age to not need halloween. hue is determined to prove her differently, and he and styla have been trying to force her into frilly costumes for years.
halloween is a verrrrry spooky affair in bramble's hyrule, tied more to evil spirits than honoring the dead, and scary costumes are a big part of that, especially masks. bramble hand carves a mask each year of a different monster. this year it was a mask mocking the eyes of ganon. akari might dawn a pretty and delicate lace half face mask, nothing scary or gory, but brair looooove scary masks, and makes them as strange and repulsive as possible, much to her older-younger family member's disgust.
The Hero of Time was a curious character. Minish had seen many curious things in their eleven long years on this earth; after all, they had at one point made a habit of shrinking to the size a mouse and eating strange nuts that made them speak like one too. That's what made Mini trust Mask in the end: he spoke like a mouse. None of the other heroes Lana had brought together spoke like mice; Bramble spoke like thorns just beginning to regrow their petals and Wilds spoke like leaves on century old branches, both tied to the natural world and the magic within it, but neither of then spoke like mice.
Mask did. Mask spoke like mice and birds and each blade of grass reaching towards the sun. Mask spoke like a Child of the Forest. Mini didn't dare call themselves such a thing, no matter how adopted they were into Minish society. They might be a Minish in all but blood, but the Minish had no right to claim Mini for the forest. It was not their decision to make. No, the forest would not claim Mini, but it had claimed Mask, and the laughable part was that Mask seemed to think it hadn't.
But now wasn't a night for dwelling on the one-eyed hero's emotional failings. Tonight was a night for masks.
Mask didn't hide his masks or shy away from them, but he rarely brought them out all at once or let anyone touch them. He was protective and loving towards them, as if each mask were a person, and didn't trust most of the heroes to handle them. Mask was deeply secretive about his second adventure, and other than Era, most of the heroes only knew that A) it had been been outside of Hyrule, B) Mask had been very young, and C) somehow Mask had fought the moon. Mini still didn't know if that part was a joke or not. With Mask it was hard to tell. But despite how close he kept his adventure to his chest, once in a blue moon on warm, sleepy nights like this one, one with no Ganon or Time Gates to dampen the mood, Mask would pull the masks all out one by one and let the heroes touch them with careful, reverent fingers. Tonight was one such night. Spirit was reading a book on engineering she'd bought on their last stop in town, eyelids drooping, and beside her, Hue and Bramble had succumbed to the calm, asleep in the dirt of the forest. Sky sat with a sketchpad in hand, keeping a close eye on the group while he drew. Across from him, close to the fire, Twilight kept watch, and the rest watched openly at the movements of Mask's hands.
Mask held the polishing cloth delicately, moving with precise, practiced motions as he moved it over and around the curves of his yellow Keaton mask. He scooped out a bit more wood polish from its jar and began to buff it in. Satisfied, he placed the mask to the side to dry. He had created quite the pile beside him as he cleaned and polished each mask. There were more out than usual-- he claimed the humidity had done a number on them during their stop at the Great Sea, but Mini was beginning to think the boy just wanted to show off.
Mask reached into his bag and pulled out a box-- the group all sat up. Watching Mask polish his masks was soothing, calming, but watching him retouch them with paint was enthralling. His movements were clear and graceful, each stroke made with care, and as he mixed colors and dragged his paintbrush down the wood of his masks, the group of heroes felt mesmerized.
The small box of paint opened and the whole group seemed to hold their breath as Mask leaned down and picked up a blue-black mask that reeked of gunpowder.
"What's that one?" Quartet asked. This was a classic part of the ritual, asking what each mask was as Mask painted them, just to hear Mask's soft, tenor voice that they so rarely heard.
"The blast mask. When you wear it, you can ignite anything, even water, and cause a massive explosion." Mask pulled out a paintbrush and began mixing paints. "You have to be careful-- it's a good way to loose your eyebrows." A starting stroke, then two, dark color coating the wood. "I once had to use a fairy after getting a little overzealous with my blasting. She didn't find it as funny as I did. Neither did my companion."
Mask switched to white, touching up the skull on the center of the mask. He held up the mask, twisting it this way and that, before deciding he'd covered enough chips and discoloration and moved onto the next: a half face mask of white feathers. Mask hummed a tune as he mixed white and yellow for the pale yellow of the beak and soon his humming turned to singing. It was obvious Mask didn't sing often, even with him only singing under his breath. His voice was weak and wobbly, but there was an innocent happiness there that Mask rarely showed.
It was a marching tune, that kind that you'd hear in a parade, and with a grin Mask called out to Sky.
"Hey Sky, wanna see something cool? Take out your harp and put this on."
Sky's eyebrows furrowed but he did as he was told; it took him a few tries to knot the leather cord behind his head but then took out his harp and, at Mask's prompting, played a few notes. Almost as soon as he did, a little mouse scampered across Sky's thigh, followed by chipmunk. A pair of birds settled on the edge of the mask an Sky let out a delighted sound. Mask had told them about the Bremen mask before but never demonstrated what it did. With a lopsided smile, Mask cleaned his brushes and took another mask out of his bag.
It was all delicate curves, painted gold and cream and pink, so much pink, as the feeling of fairies wafted off of it in waves. This, this one was new. Mask hadn't shown this one off before.
The hero mixed gold dust with magenta paint and with tiny, delicate strokes began to touch up the fairy's hair. His tongue stuck out with concentration and the group was content to watch.
"What's that one?" Waker breathed, and reached out a hand as if to touch it. Twilight swatted it away.
"Have I never showed this one before?" Mask asked, not taking his eyes off the mask.
Wilds shook his head and watched with awe as fairies began to drift forward into the clearing unprompted and without fear.
"Mother, Mother!" One cried, circling the mask, "oh Mother!"
The other fairies followed suit, sitting on the mask's elegant face and crawling through Mask's hair.
"Sibling, why is Mother all alone in the woods? Is she hiding?"
Mask stuck his tongue out at the one who had spoken and the fairies squealed with delight.
"This is the Great Fairy mask," He explained, and the fairies nodded along. "It was a gift from a Mother far, far away from here. She gave it to me so I can find my siblings so far from home."
"Oh! Alright, then we are very glad you have been given such a gift," one fairy chirped, burying themselves deeper into Mask's hair, their wings brushing Mask's ears. Mask laughed-- no, Mask giggled, a sound Mini had never heard him make before. Apparently neither had the others, as they all looked at Mask in varying shades of surprise, sans Era, who looked so fond one might expect the man to cry. Mask tied the Great Fairy mask around his face and the fairies squealed with joy, a sound not unlike the Minish.
Mask whistled and the fairies tingled back, and off they went, the group chatting together in a language that Mini would never understand, no matter how many nuts they ate. Era squeezed closer to Mask and, to Mini's surprise, said something in the fairy langue. Mask honest to the Goddesses giggled again, and Era practically glowed.
"Now, sisters," Mask said with a bright smile. He opened his mask bag and held the opening wide for the fairies to see. "Which mask do we paint next?"
the prologue for Heroes' Gate, an 'all links meet' au. Learn more about Lana's chosen at the main page for Heroes' Gate here!
The world Link found himself in was too vivid to be anything other than a vision. He stood in the center of a battlefield, the ground slick with rain and blood, his body somehow both solid and vaporous. Hylian soldiers dressed in gray and blue swarmed around him, fighting beside Gorons, Sheikah, and other races that Link had never seen before, some with fins and scales and others with markings etched in neon across their bodies. The sheer numbers astounded him—there had to be more soldiers here than people in Skyloft. Link didn’t recognize every monster the soldiers fought, but he could feel Demise’s touch on each of them regardless. Wherever, whenever, this was, Demise’s influence was strong; the thought filled Link with a thickening unease.
This couldn’t be the future to come. Link had lost too much to let that happen.
Demise’s curse echoed in his ears, laughing at Link for his naivety—lost too much, it scoffed, as if that mattered.
(My hate never perishes, Demise rumbled deep in his brain, my hate never perishes, my hate—)
There was a shout as a moblin hit a soldier in the ribs with a spiked two-handed club. The soldier stumbled back and managed to take off the creature’s head before almost collapsing; Link ran to his side, cursing when his hands phased threw him. The man needed help and he needed it now. Link was beginning to panic, watching blood pour from the holes in the person’s side, when Link saw her. The woman rushed to the soldier’s side and took his hand, squeezing it before kneeling and laying a hand on the soldier’s bloody side. Her hand lit up a cobalt blue and the soldier’s eyes fluttered shut. A sorceress. She had to be one, with the way she exuded magic and divinity. He could taste the same electricity as the Gates of Time, and feel the touch of the divine radiating off her skin. She was slight in stature, with dark skin and blue hair tied atop her head, the flyaways plastered to her face from the frigid rain. Her white skirt was soaked with mud and blood, though not her own, and her face was set with determination.
“It will only hold for so long,” she said. Her voice was higher than he thought it would be, more a girl than a woman. “You need proper medical attention. Fall back—it is better you retreat than be dead.” She wiped the soldier’ blood on her thighs and stood, extending a hand to the soldier who gladly took it.
The soldier scampered off and the woman straightened, flipping open the book Link hadn’t noticed hanging from her waist. The tome was unlike any book Link had ever seen: large, leather-bound, thicker than a brick but elegantly decorated with arcane symbols and lettering in the script of the Gods. Link had only seen that lettering in the oldest and most sacred of places in his journey. The thought of a mere mortal girl, sorceress or not, knowing the language was impossible. The book dripped with so much magic that it practically glowed. Looking at it reminded Link of timeshift stones; he was never the best when it came to identifying magic, not like Zelda, but he could feel the distinct pulsing he associated with the Gates of Time. The book’s wielder felt touched by the cosmos and the movement of time itself. Whoever this woman was, she was more powerful than her bright hair and soft, high voice made her seem.
Her hands roamed around the pages as she scanned the battlefield before looking to the largest Time Gate Link had ever seen. It was almost the size of Skyloft’s Goddess statue, spinning with golden and blue light, so fast it seemed to sing. The sorceress was too distracted to notice the stalfos until it barreled into her. She stumbled back, spell book flying into the crowd, and caught herself in a deft roll. Her curls fell from their tie and her hair whipped around in the storm’s violent wind. She stood and flung out a hand; walls of blue light circled around the stalfos and with immeasurable grace, she bounded from wall to wall before they exploded in a shower of light and electricity. The bones dissolved, but more creatures rose to take their place. Link ran to her, forgetting for a moment that in this world he was as useful in a fight as a wet remlit, but suddenly the vision took fast hold of him, gripping his chin and yanking his attention from the sorceress to her abandoned tome.
The book lay open in the mud a few yards away, the pages untouched by rain and glowing slightly, as three monsters approached. They certainly seemed more intelligent than the ones Link knew as they flipped quickly between spells before squealing in excitement at a certain section. They babbled to each other for a moment before coming to some sort of agreement, the leader moving quickly and efficiently as they hid the book in the folds of their cloak.
“No!” The sorceress bolted towards them, other monsters forgotten, and flung out her hands, summoning a giant cube of light and sending it rolling toward the creatures. Two were caught under the electrified light but the leader escaped the attack and sprinted further into the brawling. The sorceress took off after them, face twisted with alarm, until they reached the Time Gate. The woman let out a wordless cry of furious despair as the monster ran into the rift in time-space, taking the spell book with them. The woman stood horrified, perfectly still in a battlefield, and around her, the world faded to black.
It took Link a moment to realize he wasn’t breathing; his lungs had stopped, as had his heart, as if in this dark plane his body was frozen in time. He blinked, eyelids sluggish and the sorceress suddenly stood before him, short layered skirt replaced with ornated white and purple robes, her hair hidden beneath a two-pronged cap. Whoever this woman was, there was no way she was mortal.
“I’m sorry for invading your sleep. There isn’t much time for us to talk; I have a lot of dreams to visit tonight.” She gave a nervous smile; under her full attention, the pressure of magic was almost unbearable. “I am the Guardian of Time, a devotee of the Goddess of Time. It is my duty to watch over this realm and ensure the safety of the timeline from a place of pure neutrality—though, I suppose I haven’t exactly been very neutral lately. Sorry about that. That battle you saw is from the War of Ages. It is many, many millennia from where you stand now.”
“Demise,” Link said, cutting to the most important part. “I felt him.”
The devotee’s smile turned sad. “I’m afraid his curse proves successful, Link. Centuries after you die, his hatred will be resurrected through Ganon, a beast determined to lay claim to the Triforce. I’m—I’m sorry.”
Link balled his fists. He wanted to scream, wanted to yell until his lungs shattered, wanted to smash and cut and break. Demise may not be back, but a creature of his making was. Nothing. An entire quest for nothing. The devotee reached forward as if to cup his face, then decided better and brushed a flyaway behind his ear.
“I’m really sorry. I truly am. But my tome—in it is a collection of the most powerful time spells known to practically anybody, even some of the Gods. The creation of Time Gates, dimensional magic, the resurrection of the dead—that and more. With the power Ganon’s followers stole… they could open Time Gates to every spot in the timeline where a Ganon has been defeated and resurrect him. They could destroy the timeline as we know it and eradicate everything. As we speak, I can feel Gate after Gate opening; soon, who knows what will be left of the timeline. I need a Champion, a bearer of the Hero’s Spirit, to stop them and close each gate before Goddess knows how many Ganons are freed to be let loose on the world.”
“Can’t be any harder than killing Demise,” Link said, tilting his chin up. “I’ve done it once, I can do it again.”
“I appreciate your dedication, but I’m afraid this is more than you alone can do, even with the Hero’s Spirit. The scope of time and space is simply too vast—”
“What? No, I’m Hylia’s Chosen, this is my—”
Lana held up a hand. “We don’t have the time to argue. With those Gates, these monsters can revive every incarnation of Ganon to have existed. Every single one from every single timeline. How many do you think you could fight before you fall? One? Seven? Twelve? Not many, I can promise you that.”
“So, what, you came here to tell me my efforts to build Hyrule are over before they even started because hundreds of sequels to Demise are going to pour out of space-time while I sit and twiddle my thumbs? I’m going to help, regardless of what you think.”
The devotee’s smile was insultingly large. “I knew you’d be determined to help, Link. You always are. You just need a little help this time. If Ganon’s minions want to travel through time then darn it, we will too! Twelve heroes, all coming from different times and lands, brought together now to prevent Ganon’s infinite revival. I’m going to send eleven heroes from the future to you; all of you bear the same Spirit, same Triforce, and same Courage. Together, I know you will succeed. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay any longer. The Goddess of Time grows impatient; while she has blessed my plan, she is unhappy with my continued insistence to interfere in Hylia’s world.” She did cup his face this time, and her hand was brilliantly warm in the way all the divine were. “Be safe, Link, Hero of the Skies. I know you and my chosen will do great things.”
There was a clap of thunder and then the blackness was gone, replaced by the ceiling of Link’s bedroom. The devotee was gone, leaving just him in his blankets, the roaring of a thunderstorm outside, and Zelda beside him in bed, snuggled around her pillow and looking perfect even in sleep. Her beaded braids were a tangled halo around her head, and her soft snores were drowned out by the sound of rain on the roof.
“Zelda,” he whispered into the gloom. It was swallowed by the rain. He gently shook her shoulder. “Zelda, sunbeam, I need you to wake up.” She groaned and swatted at him, then rolled over, taking the covers with her.
“I had a vision.”
Her eyes opened immediately. She knew that tone. Even six years after their return from sealing Demise, she would never forget it. It spoke of determination and destiny and courage, as well as an omen of bad things to come. Divinely ordained things to come.
“Are you sure?” She said, all traces of sleep gone from her face.
“Do you doubt me?”
“Never.”
“Yes. I’m sure. I was on a battlefield, Hylians fighting against creatures of Demise. There was a woman, a sorceress who called herself the Guardian of Time. Her weapon, a magic book, was taken by some kind of creature. She told me with that book, they could resurrect every iteration of Demise’s future incarnations to ever exist.”
“Demise’s future incarnations… so his curse will come to fruition,” Zelda said bitterly. She bit her lip and Link gently pulled it free with his thumb. “All that pain, all your suffering… everything you did for Hylia—all for nothing.”
“I did it for you, not Hylia.” He said. Zelda smiled softly, a sad, small thing, and Link rolled on top of her and kissed her gently. Zelda pushed him back and rested the pads of her fingertips on his face. Thunder exploded, lightning casting deep shadows on their faces.
“You defeated Demise once before. You can do it again,” she said with complete confidence. Warmth bloomed in Link’s gut. She trusted him, and had such unwavering faith, unlike anyone else ever had. It was impossible not to love her when she looked at him like this, eyes shining and strong, the corners crinkled, mouth turned up and proud. He had to stop himself from kissing her again.
“According to the Guardian of Time, I can’t. Not this time. If these minions succeed, who knows how many different versions of Ganon—Demise’s creature of choice— with rise. No one man can stop that. The Guardian said she’s sending eleven others, all ‘heroes.’ My spiritual successors.” Link said. The ones I damned, he couldn’t help himself from adding now that he knew for sure Demise would get the last word in. As if she could see the thought behind his eyes, Zelda pulled him down, hands hot on his cheeks, and kissed him again, harder this time. Her hands crept up to his hair and she slotted her fingers behind his head.
“When are you leaving?” She asked against his mouth. Link sat up, untangled her fingers from his hair, and brought them to his mouth.
“Tonight, I assume,” he said, his breath tickling her knuckles. “I think I’m going to draw the Master Sword. It seems right to bring Fi along.”
“Tonight!?” Zelda ripped back her hands and sat up so fast she almost smacked his head with her own. “We’re not ready! We have to pack, and buy potions, and I need my sword sharpened and shield reinforced, and father—”
“We? Zelda—”
“Yes, we, I’m not letting you go on another Gods' damned mission alone.”
“Sunbeam—”
“Don’t ‘sunbeam’ me—”
“The Guardian already said the Goddess of Time was unhappy with her sending the heroes here—”
“So, this Guardian is acting against the wishes of her own Goddess!?”
Link gave her an unamused look. “How many times have I acted against Hylia’s wishes?”
“Not as much as you should.”
Link slid out of bed and Zelda followed. “If you think this is too dangerous for me—” She said, voice rising.
“I think we don’t know what we’re up against—”
“So endangering yourself is okay—”
“Yes! Yes, it is! I am Hylia’s knight reborn; it is expected that I endanger myself for the good of the world no matter what. But even if I wasn't, someone needs to protect the Surface while I am gone, and I only trust you to do so.”
Zelda glowered at him and Link moved out of the bedroom to the den, sliding his boots onto his feet and throwing on the coat lying on the floor.
“Link—”
But he was already out the door, stomping through the dark corridors of their small makeshift home on the Surface and throwing open the front door, stepping into the night. Rain pelted him as he made his way through the trees of Faron. The vision of monsters with time magic in their claws filled his mind, and Link made the walk to the Sealed Grounds in a haze. He was grateful when he finally made it to the descent to the seal, now the Goddess statue’s resting place. The statue towered, beautiful and ominous as lightning lit up Hylia’s delicately carved face. Her fat rolls were chiseled with care, the feathers of her wings dripping with detail, and every fold of her dress seemed to flutter despite being stone. The statue spoke of love, of adoration. It looked nothing like Zelda. It looked exactly like Zelda.
Link breathed out a prayer, mostly on instinct, and moved forward towards the entrance of the Goddess statue's base, but before he could get far the world seemed to freeze, the rain hovering in the sky and the thunder stopping mid-rumble. There was a buzzing in the air—Link recognized it as time magic, recognized the feel of Time Gates and timestones and summoning spells. There was a crack and the world trembled for just a moment, then seemed to shatter. A Time Gate flickered to life, just for a moment, enough to see the blue and purple of its power, and then it was gone, leaving in its place a gasping man. Link desperately wished he’d been given the time to draw Fi before all this shit started.
The man straightened—he was clearly a soldier, dressed in chain mail with a sword on his back and a blue scarf tied around his throat. His pale blue eyes were piercing in the gloom of the night, and his face was silver with burns. Link raised his fists; he may not have a sword, but he could still fight. The soldier held up his hands in peace. He moved his hands upward and gently wiggled his fingers.
‘Friendly.’ He signed again, wiggling his fingers and repeating the sign a third time. ‘Friendly. Do you know sign?’
Link nodded, lowering his fists. “Hylian sign, some Sheikah.”
The man seemed spurred on by that. ‘Is your name L-I-N-K?’
Link nodded. “Is it yours?”
‘I had a vision. Did you?’
“A woman with blue hair calling herself a Time Guardian—”
‘Lana,’ the soldier signed with a sigh of relief. ‘Her name is Lana. Good, so her spell worked. She sent me here to meet the Hero of the Skies—is that you?’
Link debated not answering, but finally nodded.
The soldier smiled. ‘I’m Link, Hero of Ages.’ He signed, then extended a hand. Link took it. The man—Link?—‘s hand vibrated with lingering magic.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Hero of Ages.”
---
Link-the-soldier warmed himself by the fireplace in the den as the sky emptied itself outside, the other Link sitting at the table behind him while Zelda paced from wall to wall.
“You’re going to burn a trail into the floor pacing like that,” Link said, watching his fiancé move with nervous energy.
“I didn’t expect it all to start so soon,” She mumbled, chewing on her lip. Link longed to reach forward and gently pull her lip free. “Link—” Both men looked expectantly toward her. Link-the-soldier ran a hand through his damp hair.
‘Obviously, we can’t keep doing this.’ Link-the-soldier signed, ‘We’re both Link, and ten more are coming. It’ll be ridiculous trying to talk to each other like this. We need new names.’
Link brow furrowed. He rather liked his name, thank you very much, but Link-the-soldier had a point. He couldn’t be Link-the-soldier forever. Link knew next to nothing about the other man, but he did know who he was—a Hero dedicated to protecting the Sky and the Surface, heaven and earth. The Hero of the Sky, as dubbed by the Goddess Herself.
“I’m called the Hero of the Skies here,” Link said, “so perhaps Sky?”
The soldier slowly nodded. ‘Where I’m from, I grained the Triforce in the War of Ages. Ages sounds... stupid— maybe Era then?’ He signed
Sky snorted, and Zelda’s glum expression finally started to shift.
“Yes! Sky and Era, that will work perfectly.” Zelda said. Her smile was tight.
“So, this Time Guardian—”
‘—Lana, that’s her name—’
“Lana; you know her?”
Era felt his scarf from where it hung by the flames, checking to see if it had dried. It hadn’t.
‘We served together during the War of Ages.’
“I thought she said Time Guardians were supposed to remain neutral?”
Era laughed a bright, hardy thing. ‘Oh, they are, but Gods forbid she not stick her nose into everything. During the war… another…’ Era’s hands rose and fell, clearing thinking hard on what his next words should be. ‘Originally, there was a Time Guardian named Cia. She was… manipulated, exploited by Ganondorf, and expelled the light left in her so she could carry out his bidding without the interference of the Goddess of Time. That light became Lana. Cia opened major Time Gates to gain followers and almost destroyed the timeline in the process. So, unfortunately, I have a bit of experience in the timeline destruction part of adventures.’
“So you’re just left in the middle of a war?” Sky spluttered. Lana had been mid-battle in the vision—Hyrule needed Era! How could she pull him from his place as Hero when he was most needed?
Era shook his head. ‘It’s been three months since I sealed Ganondorf. Lana… time doesn’t work in a linear way for her. There is no straightforward line—honestly, it’s impossible for anyone but a fellow follower of the Goddess of Time to understand how she thinks—’
“Ganondorf.” Zelda interrupted. “Is that the same creature as Ganon that Lana mentioned?”
Era blinked at her. ‘You don’t know who Ganondorf is?’
“Obviously,” Zelda said, and only Sky could pick up the self-consciousness hiding in her voice. “Lana mentioned Ganon, but we’ve never…”
“We’ve never faced such a creature. Just Demise.” Sky finished for her. Era’s eyes went wide.
‘Of course-- you, you’re that Hero of the Sky,’ he signed, hands soft. ‘I—it’s an honor to meet you.’
“Honor--?”
‘You’re the first of us. The best of us.’
Sky flushed. “I’m just as mortal as anyone else.” Era shook his head.
‘When Cia opened the Time Gates, one opened to Skyloft and parts of the Surface—I saw the world you saved, the creatures you faced. I heard of your victory against Demise from Fi herself.’
“I…” Sky forced himself to swallow. “You met Fi?”
‘Served beside her.’
Sky felt Zelda’s hands on his shoulder, warm and grounding. Fi, Fi, Fi.
“Was she alright? Did she…”
‘She spoke highly of you. She seemed to miss you dearly.’
Sky’s hands trembled under the table. Zelda squeezed his shoulders. Of course, she noticed his subtle pained longing; she was Zelda. Warm, brilliant, blinding Zelda, his Goddess incarnate. The talk of Fi was waking up something sentimental in him, and he was thankful when Zelda shifted the subject.
“Did Lana say anything to you? She didn’t say much to Link—to Sky.”
‘She said she was bringing together twelve of us, and opened a Time Gate instead of answering questions. Just like her.’ Era answered, lip quirked. There was a fondness there that Sky wasn’t being given access to.
“So, what, we just wait out in the rain? Search around the Goddess statue where I found you all night for another hero to appear?”
Era raised his hands to answer, but suddenly the fire stopped, froze mid-flicker, still as sand, and the pressure in the room grew with the presence of magic. There was a crack, the flash of blue of a Time Gate, and a thud as a figure fell from the ceiling straight onto the table.
It yelped as it slammed into the wood and Sky jumped back as the figure tumbled off his table. Era’s sword was in hand in an instant, pointed at the lump of… teenager? on the floor. The teen stood with a groan, rubbing the red mark on his face that would surely be a bruise in a few hours.
“No swords please?” He said, holding up his hands. “Not my fault I got shoved through that thing.”
‘L-I-N-K?’ Era signed. The teen—Link—nodded.
‘Link,’ Era pointed to himself, ‘Link,’ and to Sky.
“Well great. Now there’s six of us.” The kid shook out his limbs. His colorful leather doublet was covered in pockets and pouches, and his vitiligo turned his face into an elegant patchwork quilt.
“Link, Link, nice to meet you. Now whose table did I land on?”
Sky raised his hand. “Mine.”
"The boys have been discussing names," Zelda said, looking at this Link's height-- or lack thereof. This... this was a child.
Era nodded. "We chose nicknames. Since, you know, we are up to three Links and potentially twelve."
The new Link grinned. One of his teeth was chipped, giving his smile a mischievous slant. “I’ve been told I’m terribly unoriginal at nicknames. This will be fun.”
“Sky,” Sky said, holding out a hand. “as in Hero of the Skies.”
Link’s grin grew. His handshake was on the weaker side. “The Chosen Hero himself. An honor, sir.”
‘Era,’ Era signed. ‘I served in the War of Ages.’
Link bit his lip, twirling a strand of hair as he thought. “So, names… Quartet. Because I’m a quartet.” He finally decided. Both older men looked at him, curiosity piqued. “Wait till it’s not raining and I’ll show you. It would be a little cramped in here.” He patted the hilt of the sword at his waist. “Four Sword. Useful in combat and puzzle solving.” He said, as if that answered everything.
Zelda sighed. “Since it seems like I might be getting visitors all night, I might as well put on a pot for tea. Or coffee, if you’d prefer. Hot chocolate? Juice?”
‘Tea is fine, ma’am.’ Era signed. ‘Thank you. And some ice for Quartet’s cheek.’
Quartet nodded with a scowl, poking his darkening cheek. “Damn dimensional travel. Never gets any easier.” Zelda pressed a kiss to Sky’s hair before leaving the living room for the kitchen. Outside, it continued to pour.
---
The sky would have been lightening by now if not for the onslaught coming from above. It never rained like this on Skyloft with so many of the clouds below them. Here though, in the settlements scattered through the Faron region, storm clouds were present more often than not. No wonder the forest was so lush.
Much of Skyloft had settled in Faron, building close-knit settlements whose buildings had to be rebuilt two or three times as the Skylofitians and their architecture adjusted to the new climate. Architecture, agriculture, weather, even the cloud cover… adjusting to life below the clouds had not been easy, but it had been worth it. Only Link and Zelda’s home was so far from Faron and so close to the Sealed Grounds. The brick walls were just a brisk walk from the Goddess statue’s final resting place; Sky said it was because he wanted to be close to Fi—really it was because he couldn’t bear to let the Imprisoned’s old seal out of his sight. Not that any of it mattered, apparently. Demise won in the end; this Ganon will be destroying his land for millennia, all because Sky hadn’t cut out Demise’s damn heart before he could utter those horrible words.
My hate never perishes. An incarnation of my hatred shall ever follow your kind, dooming them to wander a blood-soaked sea of darkness for all time!
Sky had doomed Hyrule before it even had the chance to live.
The four of them had been tossing back ideas on their next steps once the heroes arrived, if they even did, when the knock came. Era and Sky both stood; Quartet just took a loud slurp of his juice before following the older men from the den to the home’s entrance. Era reached the door before Sky and slowly opened it, hand on his sword hilt. Sky rolled his eyes. Dramatic. On the other side of the door stood two youths, one a small child and the second in his young twenties. The eldest was sopping wet, mostly because he was holding most of his short cloak over the child. In the morning light, the scarring creeping out from his shirt collar and across his cheeks was clear, along with his missing ear. But most noticeable was his arm, or lack thereof. Instead of flesh was a glowing prosthetic, unlike anything Sky had seen before. The child was one of the shortest eleven-year-olds Sky had ever seen, and he was glad to see them wearing their own cape and a leather apron—at least they must be somewhat warm in the cold rain.
‘L-I-N-K?’ Era signed.
‘L-I-N-K’ The teen signed back. Era ushered them out of the rain.
“Let me guess,” Sky started once the two shook out their hair, “you had a vision and then were—”
The young man slipped a strange, glowing slate off his hip and it chirped as it lit up a cobalt blue. His fingers flew across the screen before a bright, feminine, robotic voice said from the slate:
‘Shoved unceremoniously through some portal? Yeah.’ A text-to-speech machine? Sky had never seen anything like it, used to those who didn't speak utilizing signs or the written word. It reminded him of the robotic Sheikah creations he'd seen in the Surface's past. The child tried to hide a giggle at the young man's unimpressed huff and failed. Sky was already enamored with them. Sky loved children, always had, and daydreamed of his own, of pressing his hand on Zelda’s stomach to feel for a kick, of pressing a kiss to his child’s forehead as they climbed onto a loftwing for the first time, of smothering them with all the love a father could give. He didn’t know if Zelda felt the same; despite all his divine courage, he was terrified to start the conversation. What if she disagreed? What if she didn’t see a future with small hands and grubby smiles? He didn’t think he could recover from that.
‘That’s Lana for you,’ Era signed, ushering them into the den. The heroes sat, scattered about the crowded room. ‘Never good at patience or explanations. This is Sky and Quartet, and I’m Era. We've been playing around with nicknames; multiple Links get confusing very quickly.’
Era quickly explained the details behind each name, and the child’s eyes brightened when they heard who Sky was—did every hero know him? Did they know what he’d done to them? How he had damned them all? Sleep was starting to pull at Sky’s eyes. It had been late when the vision came to him and he’d lost hours of sleep, and with the lack of rest, yesterday’s pain was beginning to return too fast for his liking.
‘Minish’ the child signed, fingers slow.
“Minish?” Quartet asked, wiping away a juice mustache.
‘Minish. Small, mousey creatures. Leave rupees in grass, hide kinstones for children to find. Helped me on adventure.’
Quartet laughed. “Minish—Mini! Because you’re tiny!” Era swatted him on the back of the head and Minish flushed, sneaking behind Sky, but they didn’t seem genuinely upset by his comment.
The soaking scarred man leaned against the wall, chewing on his cuticles.
“What about you,” Quartet asked, and the man examined his raw fingers thoughtfully. Apparently, the chewing was a frequent habit. “Any ideas?”
For a moment the only sound was the tapping of his fingers on the screen, and then, ‘The monks… they called me the Hero of the Wild.' Sky’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. Monks… like his dragons, perhaps? Or Impa?
“Wilds.” Quartet said, leaning back in his chair. “Easy enough.”
The man—Wilds—seemed unsure, but nodded. Suddenly, Sky noticed a quiet that hadn’t been present for hours. He let out a relieved sigh.
“It’s stopped raining.”
‘Thank the Goddess,’ Era signed, moving to the window and looking out at the glittering dampness that clung to everything. The rain was gone, and it seemed right to start an adventure with the end of a storm.
Era grabbed his scarf, now dry and warm, and wrapped it around his neck, sticking the ends in his belt.
“Where are you going?” Sky asked.
‘Quartet said he’d show off his sword, didn’t he?’
All the heroes looked to Quartet, whose smile was impish and crooked, his chipped tooth right there for all to see. “Well, the sun is coming out.”
He stood, stretched, and once they piled in the entryway to Sky’s quickly becoming too-small home, held the door for them, dipping into a bow. Wilds rolled his eyes but followed anyway. Outside, the grass was damp, and Sky’s gardens had been turned to mud. Quartet gestured for them to circle around and placed a hand on the hilt of the sword at his side. His smile was blinding.
“Stand back, sometimes we come out a little scattered.”
He drew the sword. The world seemed to vibrate, the air shimmering and spotted, like one had pressed the heels of their hands into their closed eyes for a tad too long, conjuring up dancing colors and starbursts. The sensation lasted only a few seconds before fading, and where Quartet had stood there were—four Quartets?
Each seemed identical at first glance, but with a closer observation small differences came to light: the discoloring on his skin was just the littlest bit different between faces, moving from over an eyebrow to over an eye, or switching the corner of a mouth. His hair, originally deeply curly and pulled into a tight ponytail at the nape of his neck, was different from boy to boy, braided on one head or hanging free on another. Instead of Quartet’s colorful doublet, each boy’s leather doublet was a single color: red, blue, green, and violet.
“Good sirs,” the green Quartet said with a cheeky smile and an exaggerated flourish, “the power of the Four Sword!”
The violet Quartet rolled his eyes. “The Four Sword splits the soul of whoever wields it. Please, call me Vio. This is Red, Green, and Blue—easy enough to remember.”
“We’re quite skilled in nicknaming, as you can see,” Blue said, and Red laughed.
“Just wonderful,” Red echoed, the joke obviously holding history between the four of them. Vio jabbed him in the side.
‘So the four in Four Sword is quite literal,’ Era signed. Blue nodded enthusiastically.
“It took a long time to learn how to work together, but when we do, we’re unstoppable!” He said with a wide grin, and Green clapped him on the back.
“No one is a match for the Four Sword,” he agreed.
‘Is it confusing?’ Wilds slate chirped, ‘When you become one again, I mean.’
“It took some getting used to,” Red admitted, “All four different memories of your adventure being shoved into your head at once… it’s…”
“Debilitating,” Vio finished for him. The other three nodded.
“Our Zelda, Goddesses bless her, helped more than I think she knows,” Green said. The look on his face was almost wistful. “Zelda, she was the first to notice something was wrong when we fused after sealing Ganon. Shoved us in a broom closet and demanded an explanation.” He laughed. “The look on her face when we unfused and let her see all four of us…”
Vio cleared his throat. “Alright, we’ve had our fun. There are more important things going on than this sword right now,” He said “like the five potentially remaining heroes waiting to darken our doorstep. And my colors can get annoying quickly—” the three other boys shouted in disagreement—“we should meld before someone else shows up.”
Vio took the sword in his hand and pointed it towards the others, who begrudgingly followed suit with their own blades; they all joined the tips of their blade, and the starbursts and vibrations were back for a fraction of a moment before Quartet, and just Quartet, stood before them.
‘Quartet indeed,’ Era signed, and Quartet laughed, face bright.
“My colors can be a bit much to handle—trust me, you can only put up with Blue for so long before you want to punch him in the face. And Vio can be… abrasive. And Red is emotional to the point of being exhausting, and Green is just a tad too full of himself.”
“You don’t seem to like ‘your colors’ very much,” Sky said.
Quartet smiled, all chipped teeth and crooked corners. “Of course I like them—there me! I’m just self-aware enough to know they’re all asses too. They’re unbalanced and overly simplified. They have no depth, and that can make them a pain to deal with.”
‘Who do you think will be next?’ Wilds said with his slate. ‘I don’t know much history.’
‘I spent most of the war in the times of the Hero of Twilight, Hero of Time, and Hero of the Sky, though Cia and Lana’s gates were open in far more places along the timeline. My bet is on the Hero of Twilight.’ Era said, face upturned to the sun. He looked less chiseled in the sunlight, less like a soldier and more like a young man. Sky had the urge to paint him like this, sunlight glittering off his chainmail, his scarf a beautiful sapphire blue. His eyes were less piercing, gentler, and without the chill of the rain, lip stain was visible on his lips. He was beautiful in a way Sky rarely saw men. Era turned, noticing Sky staring, and Sky looked away, feeling rather rude. Era’s barest smile still managed to light up the man’s face. Yes, Sky wanted to paint him desperately.
“There’s no point standing around on my front doorstep,” Sky said. “Come, let me show you the Goddess statue. I have an old friend waiting for me inside.”
He turned to the house—it would be nice to change out of pajamas before he left—to find Zelda outside leaning against the edge of the front door’s frame. She looked divine in the rain-soaked dawn—literally. Even barefoot, with dark circles under her eyes and her braids unstyled, piled atop her head, still wearing her sleep clothes, she gave off the aura of something distinctly otherworldly. Something worth venerating, worth protecting— worth dying for. When Sky descended to the Surface it wasn’t for Hylia. When he fought Ghirahim, when he sealed Demise, when he fought the Imprisoned over and over… it wasn’t for Hylia. It was for her. The headmaster’s daughter with the blood of the Goddess. His Zelda.
“Leaving?” She asked. “I suppose someone should wait here in case any other heroes come knocking.” Sky moved to her and took her hand, pressing the back of it to his lips. She smirked.
“Okay, okay, sleepyhead. Go ogle your pretty sword.”
Sky nodded and watched her move back inside before turning back to the group. They already seemed raring to go; day clothes later then.
“It’s a short hike—no match for a couple of seasoned adventurers!”
Wilds, who had been mostly quiet so far, smiled. It was surprisingly bright. Sky decided that there was someone equally bright under Wilds’ quiet exterior, and he was excited to find him.
‘Lead the way,’ he typed.
Walking far slower than he normally would to help the heroes keep up, Sky took them out of view of the house, deeper into the jungles of Faron to the remains of the temple that guarded the Sealed Grounds. Faron was alive after the rain, blessed butterflies fluttering through the air, green squishing underfoot. Wilds ran a hand down the trunk of a tree as they walked, brow thoughtful.
‘These trees… they’re old, older than what you’d see even in well-established forests. Wherever we are, I wouldn’t be surprised if this forest has been around a millennium, maybe more.’ Wilds said. He rubbed a pinch of moss between his fingers, staining his fingertips green. He licked a small piece, then nodded. ‘Some of these you can only find at the Spring of Courage.’
“The Sealing Grounds are some of the oldest and most sacred places on the Surface outside of a purification spring. These forests have been along longer than Skyloft has been in the air.” Sky said in reply, pretending he didn’t just see this stranger stick an unknown plant in his mouth.
“My birthplace,” Sky supplied at the one or two confused faces when he mentioned Skyloft, “It was an island in the sky.”
Wilds eyes brightened. 'In the sky? Where? How high? Why move below to the surface?'
--Which led to Sky explaining in simple, vague terms his childhood above the clouds, Wilds listening with an unsettling intensity.
It took little time to reach the temple ruins, though, with Faron’s already present humidity and the fresh rainstorm, they were slick through with sweat. Only Wilds seemed unaffected by the hike. Sky felt an ache begin to grow between his shoulder blades. He was going to regret not getting enough sleep.
Era whistled as Sky pushed open the towering stone doors of the temple. Groose had been working to restore the crumbled building to its former glory, or at least a fraction of it. The walls had been braced, the ceiling gaps filled, and the whole place rigorously cleaned, as well as a memorial for Impa added that both Groose and Zelda had agreed was absolutely necessary. Wilds' eyes were bright as he took in the ruins, and Minish squatted down to watch some of the beetles crawling through the floor mosaics with glee, occasionally poking one and lighting up as it rolled into a ball. Adorable. Quartet wandered away from the group, Wilds following after, and Era seemed content to just soak in the heroes’ excitement. His face clouded over in a way Sky didn’t quite understand once he noticed the memorial. He stepped carefully towards it then kneeled, running gentle, hesitant fingers over the gifts left by Groose.
‘I have an Impa too.’ He signed. He looked almost… shaken. ‘She was the general I served under during the war, and a close friend of Princess Zelda. Lovers even. She was a perfect soldier if there ever was one.’ He looked over his shoulder to Sky. ‘All these Links and Zeldas I can understand, can accept, but two Impas? Is there any part of our life that is original? Is everything just recycled, over and over?’
Sky opened his mouth to try and find a way to answer when a crack echoed through the air, followed by a thunderous crash. The two men bolted toward the rest of the heroes.
“Found one!” Quartet shouted. There, on top of a pile of bricks being used to patch a hole in the ceiling, was a teenager. Quartet grimaced. “He hit the bricks pretty hard when he dropped outta the portal. Hey, hey kid, are you okay?” He knelt down to the teen's side and shook his shoulder. The kid groaned, eyelids fluttering. He looked to be 19 and was covered in scars, missing two and a half fingers, with clothes made for warm humid weather. He was tatted up his entire left arm, shoulder to fingertips, but the most noticeable thing was the simple, wooden prosthetic where his right leg should be. The kid mumbled something before finally opening his eyes and squinting up at them.
“Come on, big guy, up you go,” Quartet said, pulling the kid up by his armpit.
“Fuuuck,” he finally managed to slur and blinked a few times before reaching up to feel the back of his head. “That hurt like a bitch.”
Sky clapped his hands over Minish’s ears; Minish promptly ducked out from in between them.
“Links?” The teen asked, squinting between the five of them. Quartet nodded.
“Yup. You one too?”
The kid nodded, then groaned, instantly regretting the movement.
“I’m Quartet—well, I’m Link, but twelve Links will get confusing fast, so Sky and Era (those two) decided on nicknames. So, Quartet—me— Sky, Era, and Wilds, and that little one there is Minish. We've just kinda been winging it with nicknames; Wilds and Sky used their hero title, Mini’s is from an ally on their adventure, Era chose the name of some war, and I sort of have four souls, so Quartet!”
The kid took the information in stride. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling for bumps. “Technically I’m the Hero of Winds, but nobody uses that other than old dead boats. Waker, maybe?”
“Waker sounds wonderful,” Sky said, giving what he hoped was a disarming smile. Quartet threw an arm over Waker’s shoulders.
“Good to meet you, Waker. Welcome to the courage club.”
Wilds snorted. ‘Courage club?’
“I think it’s catchy,” Waker said. He shot Quartet a crooked grin. “Has some snazz to it.”
“See? Waker thinks it has snazz.”
‘Waker is already proving to have bad taste.’
“Hey!”
The three continued to bicker, all in light spirits, as Sky led them through the temple to the beginning of the descent to the Goddess statue. Wilds eyes went wide as a full moon as he took in her towering majesty.
‘She’s…’ His typing seemed to fail him, and Sky laughed.
“Beautiful. I know.”
They moved down the spiral pathway, and if anyone noticed Sky stop to grab a stamina fruit off the ground and take a small bite, no one said anything. Hell, they had all seen Wilds eat moss. His shoulder ached. Cure quests and their bad timing. Still, Sky smiled as they reached the base of the Goddess statue. Coming here felt like coming home, almost as much as holding Zelda did. But then, Hylia and Zelda were one and the same, so it shouldn’t be too surprising. Towering above them, the Goddess statue promised the Master Sword—promised Fi—should Sky just be brave enough to draw her from her pedestal. He’d visited the sword often, but actually taking it in hand had seemed like a bad idea. Now though, it seemed like a vital one.
He walked quickly inside (his shoulder hurt, his left arm dragged, his lungs weighted on his spine like iron blocks, he was so tired, couldn’t Lana have let him sleep) and the sight of Fi there, resting elegantly in her pedestal, filled him with joy.
“Hello, friend.” He said, walking closer. He had reached out a hand to take her hilt when Waker called out.
“Hey! Hey kid!”
The heroes all turned. Creeping out of the Goddess statue was a kid—no, wait. While he was short enough to be a kid at first glance, he was actually a teen, nineteen at the oldest. Something about his body didn’t look right, even covered by his oversized green sweater, only the tips of his fingers visible under the sleeves. Two things stood out instantly—the leather eyepatch covering his left eye, and the scaring across his face. Sky had thought the colorful markings were tattoos at first, but no, they had to be scars, two that curled under each eye and one that curved across his forehead.
The kid’s eye went wide, and then he bolted. With surprising speed, Quartet tackled him. The kid bit his wrist hard enough to draw blood and Quartet swore. Up the kid popped, this time drawing an elegant sword dripping with fairy magic.
Era held up his hands, gesturing for the kid to sheath the weapon.
‘We mean no harm.’ He signed. ‘I’m sorry for my friend’s impulsiveness.’
“No harm? He bit me!”
‘We’re looking for some people. Have you seen anyone named Link?’
The kid stiffened and Waker sighed. “You’re named Link, aren’t you.”
The kid seemed to realize he couldn’t sign and hold a sword and warily tucked it under his arm.
‘What does it matter if I am?’ he signed with a sneer. The heroes exchanged a look. Yup. Definitely a Link.
‘If you are Link, then you know we’ve been called on a quest.’ Era signed, slowly stepping forward as if facing a cornered animal. At the sight of Era, Link’s eyes went wide. Huh.
‘Do—do I know you?’ Era signed, studying Link’s face.
Link shook his head. Era looked unconvinced.
"Regardless, we need you," Quartet said, nursing his wrist. "The Goddess of Time needs you. Hyrule needs you.’
‘I don’t want anything to do with a deity as fickle as the Goddess of Time,’ Link signed.
‘If you know anything about time, then you must understand the importance of this quest.’ Era replied. If Sky didn’t know any better, he’d say Era looked almost pained. Huh.
‘I’m done with quests.’
“So, you’d let people suffer?” Quartet cried, looking thoroughly disgusted with Link. Sky slapped a hand over his mouth; Quartet licked his palm. That comment at least seemed to make Link slightly more hesitant about leaving.
‘If you are Link,’ Era signed, ‘then you won’t let people die. You have a chance to save lives. Please. Use it.’
Link swallowed before finally slumping in reluctant acceptance.
‘So, I take it you are all the Links Lana mentioned?’ He signed. Era twitched at the mention of her name. How could the kid possibly know her name? None of the others had.… but Link had already moved on, and no one else seemed to draw attention to Link’s slip-up.
‘Yes; using Link for all of us gets confusing quickly, so we’ve been using nicknames. My name is Era. This is Sky, Quartet, Minish, Wilds, and Waker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
Link snorted. ‘I’m sure it is.’
‘We’ve been using—’
‘Mask.’ Link signed before Era could even finish. Era flinched, and Link—Mask—looked away. Huh. Obviously, something else was happening here, but Sky wasn’t going to pry. Everyone had secrets, especially heroes. Era prattled on in a way Sky had never seen before, hands almost nervous, explaining which hero was which, and Mask’s eyes never left his face.
“Which one are you?” Quartet asked. “Pretty sure I’m early in the timeline.”
Mask straightened, face unreadable. His facial scars seemed to glow in the dim light of the inside of the Goddess statue.
‘I’m the Hero of Time.’
The words ‘Hero of Time’ meant nothing to Sky—unsurprising given he was the first of all of them—but they clearly did to Era. For a moment he looked like he’d been struck between the eyes before he drew himself to his full height, face going stiff and blank. Sky wondered if this was what he looked like on the battlefield.
Mask leaned against an ornate stone pillar, done humoring Era with conversation, and Sky turned his attention to the real reason they were here. Fi.
She sat, elegant and silent, in her pedestal, and Wilds eyed her warily. Had all of them wielded her? Quartet fought with the Four Sword, not the Master Sword, but had the rest of them held her with a reverent grip as he had?
Sky took her hilt in hand and lifted the sword from the pedestal in one smooth, clean motion. She sang in his hand, glad to be held by her master again.
‘It is beautiful sword.’ Minish signed. So, they hadn’t all seen her before then. ‘Well crafted. Made with care.’ The leather apron they wore looked like something a blacksmith apprentice would wear—the little one probably knew what a well-crafted sword looked like, and Sky preened under the praise. The Master Sword had been forged in divine flame, and Sky had tempered it with more care than he’d given to anything in his life other than Zelda herself. Minish reached forward to examine the blade, only to have their wrist snatched and arm yanked away.
“Don’t!” Mask shouted. It was the first word Sky had heard him say. He hadn’t thought the hero had been able to talk. “Don’t touch that.”
“It’s fine,” Sky said with a calming smile. “I won’t let them cut themselves.”
“Not. Safe.” Mask growled. “They’re too young. Who knows what the damn thing will do.”
Sky bristled. “The Master Sword is not some ‘damn thing’—”
Mask scoffed. Minish squirreled out of his grip, stuck their tongue out at him, and stomped behind Sky, peering out at Mask from between Sky’s legs.
“You know nothing about this sword, nothing—” Sky said, struggling to keep his voice level
‘I know enough!’ Mask signed with a sneer.
“Guys, guys,” Waker said, stepping between them, hands out in a placating manner. “It’s just a sword. There’s no need to fight over a sword.”
“It’s not just a sword!” Sky shouted just as Mask signed the same thing.
“It’s divine,” Sky said Waker.
‘It’s dangerous,’ Mask signed at the same time. Sky fought the urge to glare at him. He would not glare at the nineteen-year-old. He was too old for that. He opened his mouth again when he heard someone calling out from the entry of the statue’s interior.
“Hello? Heroes of all sorts of ages?” the man at the entryway called. “I heard yelling and let myself in. Hope you don’t mind.”
He was young, wearing clothes far more fashionable than what Sky thought of when he thought of the Heroes’ Spirit, with purple accents and a plush, hand-knit scarf of deep green and gold.
“I’m Link—I’m assuming the seven of you are too?” He said, one hand on his hip. “It’s been a while since I’ve jumped dimensions and portals always give me heartburn; forgive me if I’m a bit blunt.”
This Link seemed entirely unphased by the time-hopping and ‘multiple Links’ situation, even more so than Era, who had known Lana personally. Link blew his bangs out of his face and grinned. “Savior of Lorule. Pleased to meet you all.”
‘Not pleased to meet him.’ Minish signed, pouting, before pointing at Mask. The teen rolled his eyes. Link let out a low whistle.
“Never thought I’d see that blade again,” he said. He stepped closer and gestured to Sky.
“May I?”
“Sure,” Sky said, noting the warmth in Link’s voice.
“Hello, old friend,” Link said, taking the Master Sword in hand. “Never thought I would see you again.” He tossed the hilt a few times, fingers spry, and turned back to Sky with a good-natured smile. Sky decided he liked this hero.
“So—who am I working with? I’m not much of a history fan, so I’m rather lacking in the ‘knowing heroes’ department, but I ought to at least know some of you.”
The growing number of Links listed off their names and titles, Link’s perfectly sculpted eyebrows raising at a few of those titles, particularly Mask’s.
“I suppose I get a name now, don’t I?” Link said, smiling. “Alright, Hue.”
“Hugh?” Quartet said incredulously. “Like the old man’s name?”
Link laughed, eyes bright. “No, dummy. Hue. Like paint colors.”
“What, is your Master Sword a paintbrush or something?” Quartet asked, and Hue fingered the old-looking gold bracelet on his wrist.
“Something like that.”
“We should get back to your beau,” Quartet said to Sky. “Now that you’ve got your fancy sword.”
‘Maybe somebody turned up while we were away,’ Wilds echoed. The look of pained nostalgia and—confusion?— that had come across his face when he first saw the Fi had finally faded.
The group seemed to agree to that and, Master Sword on his back, Sky led them out of the Goddess statue and into the muggy greenery of Faron’s forest.
---
Someone had, indeed, showed up in their absence, and had been promptly ushered into Sky’s home by his fiancé, deposited in front of the fire, and forced to accept a mug of tea. Zelda’s form of hospitality was… aggressive. The younger one sat happily on the sofa, nursing some black tea with far too much sugar, Zelda’s specialty. Her posture was perfect, her face polite, and she was getting motor grease all over Sky’s couch. She was dressed in some sort of uniform, maybe a mechanic's or an engineer’s, with dirty goggles perched on her forehead. Beside her was a man, the eldest hero Sky had seen so far, maybe just a year or two younger than him. His clothes were the green of the Hero, but a comfortable country cut instead of that iconic tunic Sky had worn, and stuffed into his belt was a pelt of some kind. Wolf, maybe?
The elder stood when the others entered and extended a hand. “Link, Hero of Twilight. Miss Zelda has been filling us in.”
Sky shook his hand; he had a firm, firm grip. “This young person is Link, Hero of the Spirit Tracks. We’ve decided on Twilight and Spirit for nicknames. Simple and self-explanatory.” He smiled, exposing crooked teeth that seemed just a little too pointed. Sky decided he liked him. Quickly he introduced the rest of the party.
“I’ll put on some eggs or something,” Zelda said, giving Sky a peck on the cheek. “It’s still breakfast time for a few more hours and I’m starving.”
‘Oh, ma’am, let me.’ Wilds said, brightening. ‘You’ve been such a wonderful host, you deserve to sit down and relax.’
“I couldn’t make a guest cook—”
‘I’m a hero; I’m never a guest.’
Not waiting for a reply or rebuttal, Wilds pushed his way into the kitchen, and with a sigh, Zelda led them all after him. The dining table in the corner of the kitchen was usually used by just the two of them, occasionally Groose as well, and right now the thought of all of them fitting there was laughable.
“I’ll go find seats!” Quartet said, and Waker darted after him, laughing.
Slowly, with much chaos, the kitchen table (and the bedroom end table, and the living room coffee table, and…) gained enough mix match of chairs to seat thirteen.
‘I’ll be sure to make extra for the two left.’ Wilds typed out, then pulled off his gloves and rolled up his sleeves. The kitchen was well loved and well stocked; after settling down on the Surface, Sky spent much of his time baking to help with the late-night nightmares, and while he had turned to mostly painting now as a coping mechanism, the kitchen was still a safe space for Sky. Wilds washed his hands and the group watched as the man pulled the black and blue glowing slate off from his hip. He tapped it a few times and the heroes all watched, eyes wide, as blue light poured out. Dozen of eggs, truffles, honey, still warm bread… the materials kept coming and coming until there was a sizable pile of ingredients spilling across the counter.
‘How’s omelets sound?’
Shaking himself out of his awe, Sky nodded. “Omelets sound delicious.”
Wilds smiled brightly and went to work, moving with efficient yet graceful motions. Sky was proud of his cooking and baking. He knew he was good in the kitchen. In that moment, he was positive Wilds was great.
“So,” Twilight said after taking a sip of tea, “while we wait for our lovely chef and two other Links, anyone up for a game of cards?”
Era grinned. ‘A soldier’s favorite pastime.’
Twilight pulled out a deck of cards and began to deal for a game of candyman. Waker groaned.
“Candyman? That’s for kids! You can’t bet in candyman.”
“Who said anything about betting?” Twilight said with a raised eyebrow.
“I did. It ain’t a card game without betting. Deal us out for bullshit.”
“Waker! There are children present!” Twilight said.
Grownups. Sky bit back a small smile. The term seemed awfully childish for a nineteen-year-old. Sky accepted his seven cards—so they were playing bullshit, after all—and watched Mask over the edge of them. Mask’s tongue peeked out as he counted his cards painfully slowly; at first glance, Sky assumed the teen was being extra thorough with his cards, but now that Sky was paying closer attention… was Mask struggling to read his cards? Era seemed to be watching Mask too, and the longing on his face was painful to see. There was something there between these two. There had to be.
Wilds began to hum to himself as Waker put down an outrageous amount of rupees for a kid his age. He was what, eighteen? Nineteen at most? Where did he get that kind of cash?
“Go big or go home,” he said with a shit-eating grin and cackled when Minish subtly tried to swipe a red rupee. “A pirate in the making! You’ll do just fine, kid. Does everyone know the rules?” There was a chorus of yeses and Waker nodded, putting an ace down face up.
“So,” Quartet said, leaning back in his chair and keeping his cards close to his chest. “Goddess knows how long we’ll all be together—we should get to know each other. Go around the circle and introduce ourselves or something. Or say something about our adventure. Or something like that; I think I’m fairly early in the timeline because I consider myself quite the history buff and Sky and Mini are the only heroes I’ve heard of.”
“My country flooded and everyone drowned and our history disappeared,” Waker said nonchalantly, putting down a card. “So frankly, I’ve got no idea who any of you people are. Seven.”
“Well, I’m the Hero of the Four Sword. Vaati, a wind mage, busted out of this sword and teamed up with Ganon to wreak havoc. I drew the sword to battle him and the magic in it split my soul, and technically body? into four. Some of y’all have met them: Red, the emotional core of my soul, Blue, the moral core, Green, a core of leadership, and Vio, the logical core. Pricks, all of them. Very useful in battle—after all, four swords are better than one. The next time we find a bokoblin I’ll split for you guys and you can meet my colors properly. Nine.”
‘Hero of Minish.’ Minish signed. They put down a card. ‘Ten. I sealed Vaati in your sword. I guess I didn’t do good enough. Sorry.’
“No, no no no, sweetheart, don’t be sorry! The seal had been weakened by a combination of a century of negligence and Ganon’s influence. It’s impossible to be your fault— you knew Vaati?”
‘Sealed him. Turned Zelda to stone to take Light Force in her. Me and Ezlo—Minish friend—forged Four Sword and sealed him away. Vaati was a sad, sad creature. Desperate and lonely.’
Quartet scoffed. “Lonely. Sure.”
“Did most of you wield the Master Sword?” Sky asked. He put down a two. “Queen.”
“BS!” Twilight called, and Mask rolled his eyes.
‘It doesn’t count if you don’t say bullshit.’
“I’m not saying that, there are children present—”
‘I’m not a kid! Eleven! And Ezlo said bullshit all the time.’ Minish said, turning their nose up at Twilight. Sky couldn’t help but smile as he took the card pile, shuffling it into his own pile. Drat.
“Eleven is very much still a kid,” Twilight said, putting down a card. “This one is actually a queen, Sky.”
“I was drinking at twelve, I wouldn’t call eleven a kid,” Waker said.
“You were what?!” Twilight cried as Minish enthusiastically nodded.
‘Not a kid!’ They signed with a grin, cards bleeding.
“Drinking at twelve—”
‘Childhood is subjective,’ Mask signed, and Era rolled his eyes. Twilight continued to rant, Minish now on their feet with excitement while Waker cackled.
“Ace” Spirit called, breaking the three up. Twilight rubbed his temples, and Minish’s smile was positively devilish.
Hue had just put down a card when the air seemed to freeze. The fly in the kitchen froze in the air and the flame under Wilds’ pan stopped crackling. There was a crack, a flash of blue Time Gate, and then in the center of the kitchen stood a person who looked as if she had just bit into a raw onion.
“What the fuck is this?” She said, and while there was no doubt in Sky’s mind that she was a Link, she wasn't the Link Sky expected. She looked normal enough, with pink hair, red mail, and pegasus boots, but looked older, maybe even close to thirty, and felt deeply of magic, something not a single other Link did.
‘Omelets. It’s omelets.’ Mask signed as Wilds began putting plates in front of all of them. There was movement from behind her and Sky realized she was hiding a person. The person stuck their head out—not just a person, but a child. They looked to be a small fourteen, with olive skin covered in freckles, and as they pushed free of Link, Sky noted skinned knees and a pink shoulder cloak lined with white fur, dirty but obviously cared for.
‘I saved you both some.’ Wilds said.
“They’re really fucking good,” Waker said around the eggs in his mouth, and Wilds flushed with pride just as Twilight flicked Waker’s ear.
“Hey!”
“Children. Present.”
Sky stood and offered a hand. “You must be our last two Links. I am also Link. Obviously. Hero of the Sky. Come, sit, Wilds made omelets and if the noises Waker is making are anything to go by, they’re delicious.”
Link just stared at Sky’s offered hand. “I’m retired.”
‘Unfortunately, Gods don’t care about that,’ Mask signed. The pros of sign language were being able to talk with your mouth full. ‘Especially time gods.’
“This is Mask,” Twilight said, giving a disarming smile. “And that is Waker, Quartet, Minish, Hue, Era, and Spirit, and Wilds is the one over there. Come, sit, Wilds made plenty.”
Link didn’t move but the teen did, eagerly sitting and stuffing their mouth with egg with their bare, unwashed hands. And unwashed they were—the kid was covered with a thin layer of dirt.
“Careful, or you’ll choke. Slower, that’s it.” Twilight said, and the kid slowly swallowed. “What’s your name?”
Link, Sky guessed.
“Link,” Link said.
‘Listen, all I’m saying, as someone with a great dislike of the Goddess of Time, once they start throwing you in portals, you’re screwed.’ Mask signed. He held up a plate to bigger Link. ‘Eat.’
Warily, older Link sat. A plate was put in front of her, then a fork and napkin. Scowling, she took a bite.
“I’m retired,” she said, “I haven’t been on an adventure since I was seventeen. I’m a scholar and a magician, not an adventurer. There isn’t any use for me here,” Mask shrugged.
‘Tough shit.’
‘I know the Time Guardian who sent us on this quest,’ Era signed. ‘Her name is Lana. If she says things are dire, then I promise you they are. Please. We can’t do this without you.”
Link scoffed. “There are ten of you. You clearly can.”
Little Link looked up from their eggs. “The blue lady was kind, and very scared. I know what it’s like to be kind and very scared. I’m going to make Hyrule a place where no one is scared ever again, and if these followers of Ganon try to stop that from happening then I will crawl through every portal and gate I need to and rip them apart with my bare hands.”
The room was silent. Finally, older Link sighed. “Retire, Zelda said, it will make life easier, Zelda said.” She mumbled under her breath. Era began to explain names and titles, and little Link wiped their mouth on their sleeve.
“Well, I don’t really have a title back at home. Sometimes the Hero of Hyrule, but only the princesses call me that. I guess the Old Man by my cave who gave me my sword used to call me ‘little bramble’. So, Bramble would be nice.”
“Bramble it is,” Waker kindly. He ruffled the kid’s hair. The other Link frowned.
“They… well, in the few countries I’ve been to I am called the Hero of Legend—”
“Legend as a name? I see, reaaal self-absorbed.” Quartet said with a grin. Legend flushed.
“I am not calling myself a legend—”
“It’s cool, it’s cool, I get it. Some people just know their worth.”
“I am NOT calling myself a legend!”
Quartet cackled, Waker and Wilds quickly joining in. Legend’s cheeks were the color of an apple. As the four of them went around in circles, Zelda took Sky’s hand.
“So, if this is all twelve, then I bet we’ll be leaving soon.” She said. “We better start packing.”
“Zelda…” Sky said softly.
“Don’t you dare say you’re going to leave without me.”
“Zelda—”
“Don’t you dare leave me down here alone on this hunk of rock again, don’t you dare.”
‘Ma’am… Zelda. If I may—I served with Lana in the War of Eras. I know what her Time Gates are like; they are highly specialized, unlike any Time Gate you might have seen before. She is the right hand of the Goddess of Time, after all. Nothing she doesn’t explicitly want to be there will be let through. Including…’ Era trailed off, but Zelda knew what he meant.
“I just don’t want you to be alone again,” Zelda whispered. “You were already alone for so long. I don’t want you to be alone ever again.”
Sky took her face in his hands. “There are twelve of us,” he said softly, kindly. “I won’t be alone.”
Zelda kissed him hard, and suddenly everyone was looking everywhere but the two of them. “Stay safe. Come back.” Zelda mumbled against his lips.
“I promise,” Sky said back. Zelda stepped back and blinked the wetness from her eyes.
“Then I guess I have to help you heroes pack.” Sky knew what Zelda sounded like when she wanted to be alone. He let her flee the kitchen and kept an ear open for her as the group dealt Legend and Bramble in. They didn’t know when Lana’s gate would be coming, or where the Time Guardian wanted them next—Sky didn’t know what an adventure based in so much time travel would even look like, let alone what the twelve of them would be expected to do. But until then they had omelets and bullshit. Hue called Spirit’s bluff and failed, grumbling as he took the card pile, and for the first time, Spirit replied with something brighter than a polite smile. Sky wasn’t sure if you could be friends with your own soul, wasn’t sure if the other heroes would want anything to do with him if they knew how he’d let Demise curse them all, but right now he just had to focus on calling the next card.
He hoped the rest of the Lana’s chosen were content to do the same.
twilight loves kids, looves them, but his major take away from heroes gate is that teenagers are the bane of his existence. Mini and bramble? Wonderful, amazing, hylia’s little angels— Waker and quartet? demons
