A silly little fic for an amazingly funny comic by @dragkbluire
Room at the Inn
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"No animals allowed, huh?" Legend read the sign outside the inn, then smirked up at Twilight. "Guess that means you and I need to stay out here tonight."
"Oooh no, not me Vet," Twilight shook his head vehemently. "I've been fixin' for a bed all week!"
Four poked his head around Twilight and stared at the sign for a moment. "I bet you Time could get an animal in."
"You really think the Old Man has a tricky streak?" Legend scoffed. But his eyes glittered. "50 rupees says he can't."
"Deal! C'mon, Twi. I wanna see this."
-----
Time sighed, then smiled down at the Smithy. "You really bet rupees on this, Little One?"
"Absolutely." Four ticked the points off on his fingers, leaning casually on Wolfie's shoulder. "I've listened to the Sailor's stories. You've shown us your masks. Plus," he grinned, sharp and mischievous, "it's been ages since we had some harmless fun."
Time put on a long-suffering face. "I dare say it won't be fun for the innkeeper." But he began divesting himself of his armor, storing it piece by piece in his pouch. He tried but failed to hide the excited grin tugging at his lips. "Let's do this," he agreed.
Four whooped. Wolfie's tongue lolled out in a wide, doggy grin, and he gave a happy bark.
-----
Four nestled himself deep inside Wolfie's neck fur, Minish-sized and ready for the show.
"Keep a good grip," Wolfie told him as they mounted the steps to the inn. "I don't know what Time has planned. We may need to run."
"Got it," Four whispered back, the Picori language rolling naturally off his tongue.
Time opened the door for them, then approached the older lady at the reception desk. "Good evening, ma'am," he said smoothly. "Do you have three rooms available for the night? I'm traveling with a sizeable party, but they're willing to share."
The innkeeper peered over the desk, her round glasses slipping down her nose. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, voice dripping with false regret. "We don't accept animals in this inn."
"Oh yeah," Time remained relaxed, one hand resting on his belt, "I'm fully aware of that." He gestured down at Wolfie. "This is my great-great-grandson. We really look alike, right?"
The woman stared. "Sir, a wolf can't be your..."
She blinked, and Wolfie shifted under Four's feet. He muffled a yelp as his perch grew into Twilight's pelt.
Time didn't even glance their way. "What's the matter?"
The woman pursed her lips and stared at the pair of Hylians in front of her, then huffed and closed her eyes. "Besides, you look too young to have a great-great-grandson."
Out of the corner of his eyen Four saw Time's hand plunge into his pouch. In an instant, a mask clamped itself onto his face, and the Old Man shrunk into a kid. Four stuffed his fist into his mouth to stifle his giggles.
"See?" the young Link jeered, pulling his good eyelid down and sticking out his tongue at Twilight. "She says I look too young! So you better stop calling me 'Old Man'."
Twilight chuckled. "Okay, okay. I'll take that."
Four peeked around Twilight's shoulder. The old lady stared, fingertips pressed together in concern. "Are you...Hylian?" she questioned, glasses slipping down her nose again.
In the time it took her to fix them, Twilight shifted back to Wolfie and Time pulled on another mask, turning into a Zora. Four buried his head into his arm, silently cackling as the pair just stood in front of the desk.
He heard the barely-audible griding of teeth and raised his head, gasping for air. Oh golden three her face! Legend's gonna be pissed he missed this.
The innkeeper sighed in defeat and pinched her eyes closed. "Yeah, you two look very alike. Welcome to the inn." She slid the register book and quill across the desk.
Time removed his mask, signed and returned the book, and accepted the three keys in exchange. "Let's go, Pup."
Wolfie trotted happily after Time. Four turned and looked back at the reception desk. The poor woman had her head buried in her hands, staring blankly at the resiger book in front of her. Her lips moved, but he couldn't hear any words. He nudged at the shoulder rolling beneath him. "Did you catch what she said?"
Wolfie twitched an ear and huffed an amused bark. "She said, 'Am I tripping?'"
Four giggled as they went to retrieve the rest of the Chain. He went through the nearby Minish portal and entered the inn with everyone else, smugly accepting his hard-won rupees from Legend as they paraded past the front desk, Wolfie proudly in the lead.
“I can’t babysit him!” Legend hissed. “I’m no good with kids!”
“You literally have a godson you helped name and raise.”
Legend flushed. “That's different!”
“At least you have experience with kids!”
@kikker-oma @smilesrobotlover @imtoogayforthismortalcoil the fic you've been waiting for is here! My only entry for Fan Joy July, based on this art!
Febuwhump 2025 - Where Loyalties Lie
Chapter 1 - Bound and Gagged
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“Move, boy,” the masked man growled.
Warriors stumbled on weary legs, head foggy and disoriented, trying not to choke as the movement made him move counter to the blademaster that was using his scarf as a leash. The hot desert sun beat down on his head, shoulders, and back, heating his spaulder to near-unbearable levels and causing sweat to saturate the gag shoved in his mouth. The ropes pinning his wrists behind his back pinched weirdly around his gloves and bracers; he tried to wiggle them to get blood circulating again, to little effect.
The sand beneath his boots shifted, sending him crashing to one knee. The man yanked on his scarf, and Warriors fell to the desert floor, twisting so he didn’t get a nose full of sand. The movement allowed him to see Wild, similarly bound and gagged, doggedly following behind him, dragged by his own Yiga soldier. Lacking anything to use as a leash, the Yiga had tied Wild's hands in front of him and used another length of rope instead.
And to think, mere hours ago, he’d been at a comfortable inn, rising early to help Wild prepare breakfast for the Chain. Whatever drug these people threw into the kitchen to incapacitate them had allowed them to be taken halfway across Hyrule without any resistance.
Warriors watched anger, concern, and determination flash across Wild's face before he had to focus on getting back up or risk being dragged along the sandy floor. Regaining his feet, he cast one last glance toward his brother as a looming fortress came into sight.
Determination and sorrow warred in Wild’s features. His eyes flicked urgently toward his hands. Warriors looked down in time to see the soldiers’ shorthand for “I’ll come back for you,” flicker across his brother’s fingers.
Wild took a few quicker paces to give himself some slack. Swiftly, he twisted, snatched his slate from his hip, activated it, then disappeared amidst strings of blue light.
Warriors' eyes widened. Shock coursed like ice through his veins as he was left suddenly and inexplicably alone; he almost bit the dust again when his feet refused to move.
Shouting erupted from the throats of his captors, in a language he couldn’t bother puzzling out. Numb, betrayed, disheartened, he followed his captors through the arched entrance into a large room that stank of incense and rotting fruit. The cloying scent made his eyes water.
Shifting sand became packed earth became cut and fitted stone as they progressed further inside. The upside down eye of the Yiga stared at him from all sides, on walls, fixtures, hanging bunting, and people alike. So many eyes reminded him horribly of the Temple of Souls. Revulsion and nausea curdled in his gut; the hair on the back of his neck prickled painfully.
Finally, they arrived at an audience hall of sorts: a large room, with seats around the outside edge and a central dais with a throne-like structure placed on top.
The person relaxing on the throne – clearly the leader based on the huge white collar, elaborate top-knot, and six-horned mask – looked fat and indolent. The massive soldier behind him, though, exuded competence and danger, from his twin top-knots and four-horned mask to the pair of katana sheathed at his sides.
The blademaster that had been dragging Warriors along stopped abruptly and stepped to the side. He left one leg extended; Warriors tripped over it before he even realized it was there. He twisted as he fell, doing his best to land on his spaulder and spare himself a bloody or broken nose. The impact rattled his chest and knocked the wind from his lungs; his eyes watered as he choked on the meager air he could pull in through his nose.
Gloved hands grasped his hair by the roots, yanking him to his knees and holding him upright. He yelped and struggled, to no avail. The hand in his hair forced him to look directly at the fat leader, who merely stared with no reaction.
Finally, he sat up, and spoke. “I thought you said you had the hero?” His voice was brassy and showy, the voice of a man used to giving commands and being obeyed.
Wars swayed as the guard next to him shifted. “…He got away,” the man finally uttered.
The leader crossed his arms over his stomach and stomped his feet, looking for all the world like a child throwing a tantrum. “I asked you to capture the Hero! Why is that so difficult?!” He huffed a sigh, then tilted his head at Wars. “Who is this?”
“He was with the Hero, Master Kohga.”
Master Kohga stroked his chin. “Hmm. A comrade? A companion?” He leaned a bit closer. “A counterpart, perhaps?”
Warriors shuddered at the veiled threat, but kept his face impassive. Until he knew exactly what these people had to do with Wild, he would remain silent.
Master Kohga hopped down from his throne and swaggered toward Warriors, leaning down and getting into his face. “Tell me, Mr. Scarf Man, will the hero come for you? Or will he leave you to rot in our clutches?”
Wild's fingers, signing a promise of his return. Betrayal, too many times to count, by men he once called family. Could he be trusted?
Warriors kept his thoughts off his face and raised an eyebrow, unable to respond even if he’d wanted to thanks to the gag still in place.
“The strong, silent type, huh? We’ll see how long that lasts. Take his gear!” Kohga barked, taking a few steps back.
A handful of footsoldiers sprang into action, swiftly removing Warriors’ belt, pouches, sword, shield, scarf and spaulder. The hand still in his hair and the ropes around his wrists prevented him from doing anything more than wriggle uncomfortably.
Warriors schooled his features and shoved the oily thought of hands on him to the back of his mind.
“Still won’t talk, huh?” Master Kohga slouched petulantly, then sprang upright. “Aack, I’m hungry. Sooga! Get him to talk!”
“Yes, Master Kohga,” the giant behind the throne intoned. The depth, solemnity, and undying loyalty in his voice sent chills up Warriors' back.
Kohga left the room, and Sooga paced slowly down the stairs. The giant man stood silently in front of Warriors, arms crossed over his chest.
Warriors' skin crawled at the intensity of Sooga's unseen scrutiny.
Finally, the man spoke. “Untie him, but keep him restrained. Remove everything. Waist up.”
No! No, no, no…Warriors struggled and thrashed, heedless of the hand in his hair, powerless to stop the Yiga as greedy fingers removed his vambraces, gloves, tunic, chain mail, and undertunic. The oily feeling of other hands on his skin burned, and he whimpered softly through the gag.
Through it all, Sooga stood and stared, impassive as a statue.
Warriors tried to control his breathing, but he knew he couldn’t hide the tremors taking up residence just under his skin. He tried to glare defiantly, but somehow he knew Sooga could sense his innermost weaknesses.
Warriors startled when at last Sooga broke his silence. “Tie him to the frame.”
“Yes, Commander Sooga!”
A flurry of hand signals, a flutter of paper talismans, and Warriors suddenly found himself choking on foul, red smoke in an entirely different room.
A slanting ray of sunlight fell on a wooden frame, like a cross tipped to the side. The beams were expertly slotted together, then a supporting crossbar was lashed firmly in place with thick ropes.
Before Warriors could assess how he could escape from the Yiga and retrieve his gear they’d hauled him to his feet, dragging him toward the frame.
Warriors struggled in their grasp, throwing his weight around, trying to free himself. He managed to launch his head backward into one of the Yiga’s faces, vicious satisfaction rippling through him at the audible crack as he broke the man’s mask, nose, or – hopefully – both.
A gloved fist crashed into his hairline in retribution; Warriors reeled and went limp. Blood dripped down his left cheek and he blinked, trying to scatter the stars flooding his vision.
He felt wood at his bare back and against the fronts of his wrists; the scrape and chafe of rope securing his wrists tightly and firmly in place brought him back to himself. Before he could so much as blink, the Yiga crossed his right leg over his left and tied his ankles together, forcing him to stand on only one foot at a time.
With Warriors thoroughly restrained and immobilized, the Yiga cackled and scattered like cockroaches.
Alone.
It had been a while – between his siblings, fellow soldiers, and the Chain – since Warriors had been truly alone. The uncanny silence, broken only by his nasally panting and racing heartbeat, chiseled at the spot between his eyes and set his head pounding.
Focus! First thing first. Assess the situation. Warriors pricked and twitched his ears, listening. No cackling, no shuffling, no breathing beside his own. No enemies, good.
He turned the majority of his attention to his predicament. The Yiga had stretched his arms wide, tying them level with his head and significantly behind. Between that, his one-legged stance, and the crossbar at his back, uncomfortable didn’t even scratch the surface in describing his position.
He tried testing the strength of the ropes around his wrists, to see if he could slip free. Streaks of lightning shot up his arms and coalesced between his shoulder blades. He gasped, almost choking on the gag still in his mouth. Reflexively, his shoulders tried to draw up to his ears to ease the pain, but it only served to exacerbate it.
Warriors grit his teeth against the gag and consciously relaxed. Despite that, his shoulders and chest twinged with leftover tension, and he groaned lightly through the gag.
His ears twitched at the slight puff of air behind him, the sensation of someone approaching from behind. The cold, sharp tip of a blade touched the back of his neck and he stilled, waiting.
The blade slit the back of the gag, loosening it from his face. “Are you ready to talk now, soldier?” Sooga’s deep voice of resonated in his ear. Footsteps paced languidly behind and around the frame, and the giant man stopped in front of Warriors, removing the gag and standing impassively with his arms crossed.
Warriors worked his jaw back and forth, alternating stretching and clenching, trying to relieve the soreness. Finally, he collected his voice and stared up at the giant blademaster. “No,” he rasped.
Commander Sooga stood still, only the slight clenching of his fists showing that he’d even heard Warriors. Warriors' heart pounded as the silent seconds ticked on.
Finally, Sooga broke his silence. “Hm,” he rumbled.
Warriors had never heard so much disappointment in a single syllable. Faster than he could track, Sooga's blades slithered from their sheathes. Warriors cried out as they sliced diagonally up and out across his upper legs.
Immediately, his legs buckled, and his chest and shoulders screamed at the sudden shift in weight. He gritted his teeth so hard they creaked, fighting desperately to contain the shout that tried to fly free. Panting, he gingerly righted himself, his trousers beginning to stick to his legs as he bled.
Warriors glared and curled his lip at Sooga. “I don’t know what you plan here is, but it won’t work.”
Sooga sighed, pulling a thin, short-bladed dagger from his uniform. With casual ease, he buried it to the hilt in Warriors’ left deltoid; Warriors could do nothing but flinch and cry out as the Yiga Commander stood uncomfortably close. “I take no pleasure from treating a fellow soldier in this manner. Tell us where the hero is, and this can end.”
Memories from the Temple of Souls swirled before Warriors’ vision. His heart pounded in time to the surrounded, trapped, scared, cornered! pulsing harshly under his skin. Rationality and reason abandoned, he snarled wordlessly, fighting to create space between himself and his assailant.
Sooga stepped back and crossed his arms again, clear amusement in his body language. “Hmph! Fiery, as expected from the Hero's companion.” He chuckled darkly. “We’ll see how long it takes for that fire to burn down.”
Sooga’s bootsteps receded, and Warriors came back to himself. He collected his rage, his fear, his uncertainty, and shoved them down to the back of his mind, letting his pragmatism regain control.
Even if he wanted to tell the Yiga where Wild was, he had no idea. The Champion’s Hyrule was massive, he could’ve gone anywhere.
But, he wouldn’t tell. Unsure as he currently felt about Wild, he knew for himself he would never betray a brother in arms.
No matter what these Yiga threw at him, he would endure.
-----
Warriors waited for someone, anyone, to show up, to interrogate him more. He watched the beam of light wend its way across the walls, the only indication of time passing. He saw a few brief shadows throughout the day as guards made their rounds, but still, no one approached him directly.
Any shift in balance brought screaming pain to his overextended shoulders and hips. His shoulder – blade still buried deep – pulsed in time to his heartbeat. The rough rope around his wrists and the dried blood on his face itched something fierce, their own special brand of torture he could do nothing to abate.
The sunlight faded. The room chilled. Warriors shivered, miserably tense and exhausted from the constant strain on his body and mind. Had they forgotten him?
A puff of air and a billow of red smoke just in front of him swiftly dispelled that thought. The smoke caught in his dry throat and he coughed, ratcheting up the tension in his chest and neck.
A Yiga footsoldier pounced from the smoke cloud and yanked at the knife in Warriors' shoulder. Warriors cried out as it tore free, hot blood now freely dripping down his chest and back from the reopened wound.
The footsoldier cackled victoriously, making a series of complicated hand signals and vanishing with another puff of acrid smoke.
Alone again, Warriors’ head hung low. His vision blurred from pain and exhaustion. Everything ached. Hunger gnawed at his stomach, even as thirst burned his throat.
He closed his eyes, hoping for the release of unconsciousness. What felt like mere moments later, the quiet scuffle of boots on stone roused him. Wearily, he opened his eyes, if for no other reason than to brace himself for whatever new torture the Yiga had come up with.
No. Warriors was dreaming. He had to be. Why else would Wild suddenly be here, free, mobile, but not release him? Unless…he really has betrayed me.
Even in the dream, the thought soured his stomach.
Dream-Wild looked over the injuries Warriors had accumulated at the hands of the Yiga and made a face.
Warriors closed his eyes. If his worst nightmare had been realized, and his brother was working with the Yiga, he didn’t want to look at him anymore.
He gasped, flinching against the crossbar at his back as a soft, damp cloth wiped gently across the dried blood pulling at the left side of his face. The cloth left, he heard water dripping, then it returned.
He opened his eyes.
Dream-Wild chewed on his lip as he worked on Warriors' face. He studiously avoided eye contact, wetting the cloth one more time before speaking softly. “I’m sorry you got hurt for me.”
Warriors huffed.
Dream-Wild continued. “I…haven’t been able to find anyone else. I was hoping to have their support, their items. It’s going to take me some time to get the things I need to get you out of here by myself.” Finally, he made eye contact. “Will…will you be okay for one more day?”
Warriors coughed dryly, silently, wincing at the sandpaper scratch in his throat and the strain in his shoulders, and nodded.
The corners of Dream-Wild’s eyes crinkled in concern, and he held up a water skin. “I can’t offer much, but I can offer this. Drink,” he insisted.
Warriors gulped greedily at the dream water, savoring the pure sweetness, the perfect temperature, the soothing flow in his parched throat and empty stomach.
Too soon, the water pulled away. He wanted to plead for its return, but his voice had deserted him.
Dream-Wild stowed the water skin in his pouch and pulled out his slate. A glowing blue rune, circular in shape and covered in writing Wars couldn’t read, appeared at his feet. “I have to go now. I timed this to the guards' rotation, and one should be coming any minute. I’ll be back tomorrow, I swear.”
Between one blink and the next, Warriors was alone again, blue threads of light fading into nothing.
He had to believe. Even if this was just a dream, Wild would never work with the Yiga, wouldn’t betray him.
He closed his eyes and let the dream fade to the blackness of pained exhaustion.
-----
Agony shredded the blackness to ribbons as something pierced his left side, just under his ribcage. Warriors gasped and tried to move away from the pain, only to have it flood like a tsunami throughout his entire body. He clenched his teeth against a startled cry so fast he bit his tongue.
Memory rushed back in as whatever woke him was cruelly plucked back out.
The inn. The kitchen. Wild. The Yiga. Bound, gagged, touched, mocked.
The swords. The knife. The dream?
“Didn’t like that, did you?” Kohga's nasally voice arrowed into Wars' aching head. “Today, you will tell us where the hero is.”
Warriors panted, internally fighting back the awful cramps from a night spent in such a stressed position. The tightness in his chest made breathing difficult, and his limbs trembled from fatigue. He hung his head again, trying to recollect himself.
At his feet, a circle of runes pulsed gently, the blue light all but hidden in the morning haze.
It wasn’t a dream. Wild had been here, had given him water, had promised he’d return!
Warriors grinned, lifting his head so he was eye to mask with Kohga. Confidence returned, he chuckled softly. “You won’t get his location from me.”
Kohga stilled. Warriors watched tremors start all along his body as his ire rose. Finally, he exploded in a tantrum fit for a child. “OH YOOOOOUUUUU!!!” Wars could practically see steam jetting from behind his mask as he stomped around. “That’s it! Kaiga! Naiga!”
Twin smoke clouds puffed into existence behind Kohga. “Yes Master Kohga!” two footsoldiers exclaimed, kneeling reverently.
“Take care of him!” Kohga snarled, spinning around and stalking from the room.
“With pleasure, Master Kohga.”
Unease curdled with fear in Warriors' gut as the pair stalked closer. He gulped. Sooga, at least, held the demeanor of an honorable and fair soldier. These two shared none of the same qualities, seeming almost feral in comparison.
“Let’s get started,” the slimmer of the two said, her voice soft but sharp. “Tell us where the hero is.”
Warriors breathed as best he could through the strain, then made eye contact once more. “You’re wasting your time.”
“Kaiga?”
The other Yiga grunted and cracked his knuckles. Warriors tried his best to brace himself, but the punch to his face still sent him reeling. His cheekbone and eye socket throbbed and warm blood began to thread down his cheek.
Naiga shifted her stance, tilted her head, then asked again, “Where is the hero?”
Warriors shook his head, both to clear the dizziness and as her answer.
This time, the blow came to his side, right over the puncture wound. The impact shuddered throughout his entire body, setting nerves and strained muscles alight. Warriors cut off his scream before it made it past his throat, but it was a close thing.
“Tell us where the hero is.”
Warriors closed his eyes and said nothing.
“Kaiga.”
Stars burst in Warriors’ vision as the fist crashed into his nose. Immediately, blood dripped from his nose, across his split lip and down his throat. Warriors gagged and spit, trying to clear his airway.
“Where is the hero?!”
I’ve trained for this, say nothing.
“Kaiga!” Thud, left eye.
“Give us the hero’s location!”
Stay strong.
“Kaiga!” Thud, right eye.
Warriors reeled, head and body aching from the repeated blows. He blinked blearily until the four Yiga became two once again. He licked blood from his lips. “You’re wasting your time,” he repeated.
Naiga's gloves creaked as she clenched her fists. Finally, she drew a short throwing knife, tossed it to her left hand, and came close enough Warriors could smell the banana permeating her skin.
She clutched his throat with her right hand. “Tell me,” she hissed, stabbing the knife into the tender skin below his ribcage, “Where. Is. The hero?”
Warriors gasped and choked, coughing, whining, desperate to escape the pain and the hand on his skin. Somehow, through the storm of memories and sensations, he managed to find his voice. “Never,” he rasped.
With a wet schlik Naiga withdrew and stowed the knife, swapping it for a sickle of some sort. Warriors screamed as she dragged the tip through the skin of his chest, from left shoulder to sternum.
"WHERE IS THE HERO??” she shouted over his cries.
Warriors could only whimper, spent.
With a frustrated growl, Naiga pulled away. “Kaiga, fetch blademasters Varga and Ragga. It’s time for some target practice.”
Kaiga vanished, Naiga paced somewhere near the entrance to the room, and Warriors shivered, allowing his eyes to flutter closed. Each tremor punctuated the pulse of his heart behind his wounds, pumping his lifeblood into the open.
The sun rose enough to send a shaft of light into the room, settling like a warm blanket across his shoulders. Warriors relaxed slightly under its touch.
Wild had promised he’d return today. Warriors just had to endure a bit longer.
Quiet footsteps brought Warriors' mind back to his predicament. He opened sore, grainy eyes to a small huddle of Yiga whispering in hushed tones across the room.
Naiga noticed his attention and sauntered across the room. “I wonder…” she began, running her finger down and inside the wound on his chest. Warriors shied away despite the pain in his shoulders, biting back a whimper. “How many blades of air would it take to reach your heart?”
She grabbed his face tight with her other hand, pulling him down until he stared at her, nose to mask. “Tell me where the hero is, and this will end,” she demanded.
Icy dread crept down Warriors’ body, banishing the warmth of the sun. Terror and fearful anticipation prickled his skin like a thousand needles. Whatever she meant, it couldn’t be good for his health.
Still. Wild was coming. He had to believe, to keep that hope close to his heart.
Warriors chased back the fear, pulling on his courageous and indomitable spirit for strength. His lips formed one word, breath following after like a prayer. “No.”
The upside down eye of Naiga's mask burned itself into his retinas as she looked up at him. Finally, she shrugged, backing away. “Suit yourself.”
She took five paces away – Warriors heaved a sigh of relief at the relative freedom – and sketched a line in the sand with her boot. She stepped clear, then gestured to the two hulking blademasters. “You may begin,” she stated.
One of the blademasters eagerly toed the line, drawing his weapon. The sunlight played along its blade, accentuating the wavy ripples and holes in its design.
Frankly, it looked absurd and impractical.
The blademaster took a ready stance, then slashed diagonally at the air in front of him.
Warriors cried out in surprise as a sharp wind connected with his chest, matching exactly the angle of his existing wound. It stung, like a sharp slap.
Before he could recover, the blademaster sent another blast, hitting the same spot once more.
Warriors suddenly connected the dots, and the dread surged higher. Naiga had said it was time for target practice. He was the target.
By the tenth stroke, Warriors could no longer hold back his cries. Each blade of air drove a bit deeper, widening and deepening the wound. The backwind tousled his hair, driving it into his face and eyes.
By twenty, he screamed with each blow.
Still, the blademasters continued. Whenever one got bored, whether of the game or of Warriors' screams, he’d leave and another would take his place. Soon, Warriors had a small audience of blademasters lined up to take a swipe at him. Warriors saw rupees changing hands through the blustering winds and felt sick.
They weren’t even asking him any more questions. Just taking their shot – chuckling if they hit the same spot and angle, groaning if they were off – and moving aside for the next one.
Hours passed at a chuchu's pace, the wound in Warriors' chest now a vast, bloody chasm. He held on valiantly, but shock and blood loss were well on their way to claiming his consciousness when something changed.
Warriors glared daggers at the blademaster gleefully lining up his next slice. In his peripheral vision, the rune beneath his feet glowed a bit brighter.
Time seemed to slow to a standstill, and when it snapped back into place a short Yiga footsoldier with a distinctively blond topknot stood in the center of the rune. Hope bloomed in Warriors' chest, warm and bright, beating back some of his pain and exhaustion.
“Pardon the intrusion,” the Yiga said over his shoulder to the impatient blademasters, taking two light-footed hops backward, “but I believe it is my turn now.”
The footsoldier drew his own windcleaver, and the hope abruptly died. Lightning-fast, twin blades of air shot toward Warriors; his breath stilled in his chest as they connected, not with his chest, but with the ropes binding his wrists.
This bit of the fic has been done for months 😅 but I didn't want to post it until I had the rest of it completed
Febuwhump 2025 - A Safe Harbor (Free at Last)
Chapter 1: Portals
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Sky left the frigid, unfamiliar dungeon behind, welcoming the warm sun on his shoulders. He held his precious successor close, bundled safely in his sailcloth. The Smithy's trembling had eased slightly, but Sky still worried.
At least if Ghirahim or any other monster tried anything, he’d have plenty of warning – the area surrounding the dungeon was flat, nearly lifeless.
A gentle thrum split the air; Fi warmed slightly on his back, pulling his attention to a spot to his right.
A dark portal split the horizon, warping the light around it and snagging insistent claws deep into his bones.
Never before had a portal felt so urgent.
Cherished Goddess, he prayed, altering his course, please take us to our brothers.
-----
Hyrule grunted as he hit the ground, the impact jarring his injuries. A bundle of dead weight landed on top of him, pushing the breath from his lungs. He gasped through his gag and squirmed, trying to shift enough to see Legend.
Sea-green eyes and a shock of messy blond hair flashed in his vision, and Legend's weight disappeared. Nimble fingers picked at the ropes around his wrists, even as stronger fingers tugged at the knot in his gag.
Hyrule struggled to focus through the fae ire burning in his blood. Brooding dark magic swirled in front of him and he snapped his newly-freed teeth, before reason broke through and he recognized Twilight.
The Rancher held his hands up in surrender; Hyrule noticed a crude bandage wrapped around one of them. “Whoa, Rulie, it’s jus' us, you’re out, you’re safe.”
Hyrule panted, struggling to organize his thoughts. Distantly, he heard Wind ask what happened. “The stupid, goddess-blessed idiot,” he snarled, “refused to let me be hurt until his body literally shut down to protect itself!”
He turned to Legend, lying limp and so pale in the afternoon sunlight, and shuddered. He tested his magic, fretting when it returned far too low to be of much use. “No, no, no…” he moaned, casting his Life spell regardless. The blue-green glow fluttered around Legend's arm and foot, then died.
Hyrule replaced his magic with direct pressure on Legend's arm, trying to slow the bleeding. “He needs a fairy, a potion, something!”
Wind, who was already pawing through Legend's pouches, slowly shook his head.
Hyrule’s righteous anger fizzled out. “There has to be something we can do,” he whispered.
“Uh,” Twilight commented, pointing across the clearing, “that might lead to somethin’.”
A dark portal, like the one that brought them all together in the first place, writhed insistently at the treeline.
Immediately, Time pulled Legend into his arms, then strode urgently across the clearing. Twilight, Wind, and Hyrule made eye contact with each other, then scrambled after him.
Urgency thrummed under Hyrule's skin, temporarily dulling the pain in his foot and leg. Hold on, Legend!
-----
Warriors' head lolled against Wild’s chest and shoulder as they appeared on the shrine platform. Wild took a few seconds’ comfort in the relative safety of the calming waters of the Domain to hold his brother close, run trembling fingers through dirty, tousled hair, and check Wars' pulse and breathing.
His own exhaustion soon threatened to drag him under. Gotta move. Can’t stop here. With a groan, Wild staggered to his feet, holding Warriors around his shoulders and knees. Step by tenuous step, Wild waded through the hip-high water around the shrine and up the stairs. Seabed Inn's just around the corner. Hang on, Wars.
A portal appeared in the stairwell, obscuring Mipha's statue and leaving no room to go around.
Wild’s heart sank like a stone in deep water, but he steeled himself and walked through. Please, Hylia, let there be safety on the other side.
So, I'm writing a Warriors-centric fic (finally, right?), and doing a bunch of research on the names of pieces of armor so I can get them correct. His shoulder armor in most of the fics I've read is called a pauldron
but looking up the pieces, it more closely fits with a spaulder
Screenshots for comparison (Warriors vs Time's more comprehensive plate armor)
So, do I go with what the fandom more commonly knows it as, or do I use the proper name for it?
There's still a bit of time left in February, right?
Chasing Down a Daydream ‐ Febuwhump 2026
Chapter 1: Young Sky
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Wild doubled back along the single-file Chain, sure-footed, making sure no one got hurt along the rugged mountain path. He smiled sympathetically at Sky, puffing valiantly at the end of the line. “How you holding up, Sky? Need a stamina elixir?”
Sky returned a wan smile. “No, I’m okay. We’ll be–”
Kehehe-kehe
“Did you hear that?” Sky asked.
“Yeah,” Wild stared around the rocky scree, ears twitching. “It almost sounded like one of my wizzrobes.”
Plink
“What's a wizzrobe?” Sky asked.
Poink
“A monster that shoots balls of elemental energy,” Wild responded, distracted.
Plink
“Like a spume?”
“What? No, like– WATCH OUT!”
Sky turned too late, catching a dark ball of energy straight in the chest. The Master Sword chimed in anguish as he flew into the mountainside, propelled by the wizzrobe's blast. The impact jerked a shout from Sky's throat, pitching up as he fell.
Wild immediately pulled his bow and an ice arrow, but the shadowy wizzrobe had already disappeared in a haze of dark sparks, leaving a malicious giggle floating on the breeze.
Legend raced down the path, sharp violet eyes scanning the area. “I heard the Master Sword! What happened?”
“We were ambushed by a wizzrobe! It shot a blast of something at Sky then vanished.”
Wild put away his bow and called ahead to the rest of the Chain, then he and Legend turned to the pile of white and green laying motionless at the side of the path.
Legend picked up the dislodged Master Sword while Wild shifted Sky's sailcloth. “Hey Sky, you okay in there? That blast hit you pretty hard.”
Wide, bright blue eyes in a childish face met his gaze. Soft, downy hair the same color as Sky's fluttered around the boy's head.
The boy spoke, high voice quavering as tears shimmered into the expressive eyes. “W-who are you? Who's Sky? Where am I?”
“Uh…” Wild couldn’t wrap his head around what his eyes plainly saw, brain misfiring at Sky's eyes and hair in a child's face. “I’m Li…You can call me Wild, and, uh…”
The boy's lip trembled. Wow, I’m bad at this. “What’s your name, kid?”
“I’m Link.”
Wild's insides squirmed like chuchus. “Hey, uh, Lege?” he called carefully over his shoulder, “Can we talk?”
He rose and left the kid – Link? Sky?? – huddled by the path, dragging Legend by the sleeve to the other side.
“Hey! What's going on?”
Wild nodded over his shoulder, watching Legend make the discovery. “He's a kid?!” Legend whisper-shouted.
Wild could only nod.
Legend pinched the bridge of his nose. “Oh Nayru, you’ve done it now…” he muttered.
“What do we do?” Wild asked. “He doesn’t remember us at all, and he's scared.”
“I can’t babysit him!” Legend hissed. “I’m no good with kids!”
“You literally have a godson you helped name and raise.”
Legend flushed. “That's different!”
“At least you have experience with kids!” Wild snapped. “The only kids I’ve interacted with just wanted…to see–” Wild trailed off, eyes glazed.
Legend waited a moment, but Wild didn’t finish the thought. “’Hoy, Champ,” he waved a hand in front of Wild's face, “not a good time to get lost in a memory!”
Wild blinked, focusing. “No, no, it's not that,” he mumbled, pulling his slate from his hip and tapping its screen rapidly. "More like a flashback." With a triumphant a-ha! he replaced the slate and reached into his pouch, emerging with a few colorful butterflies cupped gently in his palms.
Carefully, he crouched next to the trembling child. “D'you wanna see something cool?” he asked.
Link sniffled and nodded, eyes brightening slightly.
Wild opened his hands and the butterflies fluttered around the pair. Link's eyes widened, and a delighted grin split his face. Maybe this won’t be so bad, Wild thought.
Then the wind – up to now gratefully silent on this high mountain pass – picked up. Uh-oh.
It hit like a physical wall, scooping up Wild's hair and yanking on Legend's hat, forcing the older heroes to brace themselves against its might. Wild's stomach dropped as the wind passed him by, continuing on toward the mountain's face and the child who still crouched beneath it. He turned, already shouting a warning. “Sky! No, Link! Watch out!”
He caught the boy's eyes right as the wind pulled at the sailcloth, still clasped tight around Link's throat and bundled around his smaller form.
Link let out a startled yelp as the tangled fabric took to the wind like wings, lifting him bodily into the air. Wild arrived too late, grasping fruitlessly at one dangling boot; the boy's shriek echoed in his ears as the wind, guided by an unseen hand, dragged him up the mountain and out of sight.
Before Wild could even think to grab his paraglider and follow the boy, the wind died. “SKY!” He tried to climb the mountain face to go after his brother, but a hand caught his boot before he could make it more than a couple feet.
“Wild, you crazy cook, get down here!” Legend sounded upset, or maybe annoyed. Wild could never tell with the Vet.
Wild looked over his shoulder. “Why?! If we don’t follow now, we’ll lose him!”
Legend flinched, but his grip remained firm. “He's already gone, Champion. We need to wait for the others, and we need a plan.”
On cue, the rest of the Chain rounded the bend, eyes alight with curiosity. Wild kicked off Legend's hand and let himself drop back to the path, guilt bubbling deep in his belly. I was right here; he was right there, why couldn’t I catch him?
“What’s up, guys?” Wind asked, “Why'd you stop?” He looked around, and his eyebrows crinkled. “Where's Sky?”
Wild's gut churned, and bile rose in his throat. He fell to his knees. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, pulling on his hair, “I didn’t mean to–he wasn’t–I couldn’t–”
Warm, callused hands grabbed his own and gently detangled them from his hair. “Breathe, Cub,” Twilight soothed.
Wild met Twilight's eyes, the other hero's dark tattoos igniting a burning brand of hope in his mind. “Twi!” he gasped, “Wolfie. We need Wolfie! Sky, you gotta find him!”
“Slow down, Cub. Start from the beginnin'.”
Everyone gathered around; Legend crouched nearby and placed a soothing hand on Wild's back. “A wizzrobe attacked Wild and Sky,” he explained. “Sky got hit, and it somehow made him younger. He doesn’t remember us. We were just about to get up and rejoin you when an unnatural wind started up and snatched him away.”
“We need Wolfie,” Wild pleaded, “to track him down. Please, he was so scared!”
“We’ll find him, Wild,” Twilight assured as the dark squares of his transformation enfolded him.
Wild watched with bated breath, chewing on a loose nail as Wolfie sniffed around. He circled the area where Sky had been standing before the attack, tracked back to the cliffside, and even stretched up onto his hind legs to get a few feet up the rocky face.
Wolfie sniffled, sneezed, and let out a low, mournful whine before Twilight re-emerged from the shadows. “Well, I’ve got his scent,” he started, “but the trail don’t lead anywhere but up right now. Got no way of knowin' where that wind took ‘im.”
Wild buried his head in his hands. “We failed him…”
Twilight placed a hand on his Cub's shoulder. “’T'ain't all a loss,” he reassured. “I could smell other people, a village, not too far from here. We’ll start there, okay?”
“Which direction, Pup?” Time asked.
“Same way we were goin'. Oughta reach it in a few more hours' walk, I’d guess.”
“Then let us proceed with haste,” Time said, gathering the group and beginning back on the path. Wild followed reluctantly, still wondering what else he could have done.
Legend hung back with him. “We’ll find him, Champ. Between the Rancher's nose and our collective determination, it’s only a matter of time. Until then…”
Wild blinked at the glowing blue item suddenly thrust into his face. The Master Sword pulsed faintly, a mournful chime sounding in his inner ear.
“…She wants you to keep her,” Legend said softly.
Wild met Legend's gaze over the sword. Despite his doubts, despite his fears, Legend, Sky, and the sword trusted him. Maybe, he could afford himself the same grace.
Wild finally nodded, taking the Master Sword from Legend and hurrying to catch up to the rest of the group.
@kikker-oma @smilesrobotlover @miladyh I finally finished it!
Febuwhump 2025 - Where Loyalties Lie
Chapter 2 - post-victory collapse
Prev
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Wild materialized under the Gerudo Great Skeleton and fell to his knees, despairing. That look in Warriors’ eyes…
He'd known Warriors would see it as betrayal, he'd known he might never be forgiven…but… I had to leave him!
He felt awful leaving Warriors with the Yiga, but he’d be no help captured alongside his brother. He'd teleported to the first Shrine he could touch – Hawa Koth, by the Great Fairy Tera – and prayed it was far enough away from the desert fortress he couldn’t be tracked.
With some shimmying and ingenuity, Wild removed his gag and started in on the ropes around his wrists. Each moment he spent trying to escape dragged like the moments before a guardian fired.
Finally, the knots came loose. Wild spat out the chunk of rope he’d been picking at with his teeth and checked the slate: 11:10 am. Time to get everyone else and rescue his brother before he got hurt, or worse.
Bundling the ropes into his pouch – no use leaving perfectly good materials behind! – he pulled his slate again and tapped the icon for his travel medallion, placed in his room at Kakariko's inn. Hylia knew they always left something behind, so he’d fallen into the habit of dropping the medallion wherever they stayed for the night. A blessing, this time. He had to get back to the Chain.
Wild materialized in his room, barely stopping for breath before he ran out the door, checking his brothers' rooms. The blue light, the making and unmaking, the queasiness of abrupt altitude change, all were intimately familiar by now, overshadowed by the urgency churning in the back of his mind.
Nobody here? No note either. Strange…Wild clattered down the stairs into the reception area.
Ollie the innkeeper looked up from his desk. “Oh, Master Link! When did you return? You left the kitchen in quite a state.”
Wild flushed – he hadn’t exactly had time to clean up after himself, what with the Yiga abduction and all. “Sorry, Ollie, I’ll clean it all up soon. Have you seen the others around? I have an urgent matter I must discuss with them.”
The old innkeeper flapped a dismissive hand. “Oh, don’t fret over it, we’ve taken care of the mess already. The others, hmm? Can’t say that I’ve seen them this morning. Maybe check with Lady Impa?”
Well, they’d already talked with Impa the night before, but it couldn’t hurt to try again. Wild sketched a quick bow of gratitude before striding down to the main road. The whole time he kept his ears peeled for any sign of the Chain, the men and boys he'd accepted as family, his brothers, but not even Cottla's little games broke the quiet contemplation of the village.
Impa looked up slowly as Wild pushed open her door. “Link. What brings you here this morning?”
Wild strode to his customary place before her. “I must speak with my brothers. It’s urgent – possibly a matter of life or death. Have you seen them?” he pleaded.
The decorations on her hat rattled mournfully as she shook her head. “I am afraid I have not,” she replied, “but early this morning I awoke to a mighty disturbance in the balance of the world. I fear a great retribution from the evils of the world may be on its way.”
Wild groaned, tapping his foot impatiently. If Impa didn’t know where they went, how was he supposed to find them?! If they’d been portaled to a different era, shouldn’t he have been pulled along too?
Impa's next words pulled him from his spiraling. “I have heard rumors…” she murmured, and Wild's ears perked up.
“About what?” he encouraged.
“Rumors of a vast communication network across Hyrule, headed by the Champions and Stablemasters. I would suggest starting there.” She caught his arm before he could take half a step toward the door. “Link. If the rumors are true, this network is still in its infancy. I…wouldn’t expect too much of it, yet.”
Wild nodded and practically flew through her front door. He perched on the rails of her porch, studying his map. Teba might be the best place to start. He and the other Rito can help me search, and if Hylia teleported everyone to a different inn I could check there too.
After that, Wild tapped his lip with one finger, intimately aware of the tiny clock in the corner of his screen as it changed to 11:40 am, I’ll visit the villages and stables counterclockwise. Talk to Beedle, Kass if he’s there, see if the Chain is nearby.
He couldn’t afford to waste any more time.
-----
The moment he could move, Wild was sprinting from the Akh Va'quot shrine up the stairs to the top of Rito Village. Kaneli, Teba, anyone, had to have seen his brothers. But no Hylians had come to visit Kaneli and Teba was apparently at the flight range.
Plus, the cold mountain air had been devoid of any hint of the Chain.
Groaning, Wild hopped the rails, freefalling to the Swallow's Roost. He pulled his glider out at the last second, just barely breaking his fall, and stumbled gracelessly into the inn.
Ceceli looked up in shock, but before she could open her beak Wild spoke. “I’m looking for my brothers, if they show up here would you let me know? Thanks.”
He had his slate open and the icon for Noe Rajee selected before she could nod.
1:45 pm
Wild let the air currents from the lake beneath the Flight Range take him upward, angling his ascent to arrive perfectly on the landing platform. He took a half second to rub that victory into Revali's face before striding toward the fire and Teba. He hadn’t thought to change into warmer gear, so he welcomed the chance to warm up.
“Link! What brings you here this afternoon?” Teba asked.
“Impa said you’ve begun a communication network with the other champions and stablemasters. Is that true?”
“Well, it’s mostly the stables, but we’ve been helping ferry messages, yes. Do you need something?”
“We need to let the people know the Yiga are growing more bold. They kidnapped my brother and me from Kakariko's inn. I escaped, thanks to the Slate, but…” Wild cut himself off, shame bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He beat back his own mental accusations of coward and traitor with a metaphorical stick. “I need to find my brothers – seven other Hylian heroes like me – to rescue him, but they’re not where I left them, and they didn’t leave a note as to where they’ve gone.”
Teba frowned. “We can help warn the people about the Yiga, but I’m afraid we’re not equipped for a manhunt of that caliber.”
Wild grimaced, disappointed but understanding. Impa had said the network was in its infancy. “That’s okay, Teba, anything helps. I’ll check the other villages and stables, see if anyone's seen them.”
Teba rose from the fire and shook out his wings. “Would you like an escort, Link? It wouldn’t be any trouble.”
Wild smiled. “Thank you, truly,” he said, “but I’ll be faster using this.” He waved his Slate gently through the air.
“Ah, of course,” Teba nodded graciously. “We shall send word if we find any of your brothers. Goddess-speed, Link!”
Wild grinned back. “And to you!” In a flurry of blue, he'd changed into his Snowquill gear and punched the icon for Vah Medoh.
2:05 pm
Wild glided down from Vah Medoh, eying Rito Stable from the air. Snow flurries made it difficult, but he thought he saw Kass's distinct blue plumage and Beedle's giant backpack. No sign of Time’s armor, or Sky's cape.
He folded his paraglider with a huff, striding into the stable tent to see if, just maybe, they were sheltering from the light snowfall.
No luck.
Groaning, rubbing his face, Wild went back outside. Where'd Beedle get off to? This time of day, the eccentric merchant should be…There!
“Hiii Link~” Beedle sang as Wild approached. “How are you feeling today?”
“I’ve been better,” Wild said tersely. “Please, in your journeys, have you seen a group of travelers, seven or so in number, armed well and asking about monster camps?”
“I don’t believe I have, sorry.” To his credit, Beedle did look genuinely apologetic. “Are they important?”
“They’re my brothers,” Wild explained, “and I need to find them as soon as I can. Will you keep an eye out for them?”
“Aaahh, of course, of course! …For a price~ I am a merchant, after all!”
“I’ll buy every arrow you’ve got, every time.” Might as well stock up.
“Deal!”
Rupees clinked, shafts rattled, and he was off to Kass, time tick-tick-ticking like the stasis rune in the back of his head.
Kass smiled warmly as Wild approached, but it swiftly faded to a look of earnest concern. “Oh, Link…what is the matter?”
Wild blinked, hard, suddenly fighting back tears. Every being in his Hyrule had helped shape and guide him on his journey, but Kass…Kass was the gentle, guiding father-figure he couldn’t remember. Being with Kass had almost come to mean peace, and home, and it was all Wild could do to stop himself from collapsing into the Rito's arms and sob aloud.
“I can’t find my brothers,” he whispered past the lump in his throat, “I can’t find them, and I need them. I’m going to look all over Hyrule, in every stable and town. Please, will you help me?”
“Of course, Link, of course!” Kass put a wing on Wild's shoulder. “My old teacher had a song I think may help.”
“Kass, I don’t–”
“I know you don’t have time to listen now, but I will search the lands in accordance with the words, and meet you at every stable I can.” The wings caressed his face briefly. “Go, and may the light illuminate your path.”
Wild dove in and clung tight to the giant Rito, basking in his warmth and confidence, before tearing himself away. He pulled out his slate, stomach sinking as he saw the time. 3:05 pm! He’d spent an hour here!
Wild shook his head roughly. Yes, he’d spent an hour, but he now had at least three people helping him search – two of which he was half-convinced could teleport as well.
He punched the icon for the shrine near Snowfield Stable, and began his hunt in earnest.
Snowfield, Serenne, Tabantha Bridge, Gerudo Canyon and Gerudo Town, Kara-Kara Bazaar…The stables and settlements passed him by in a blur of anxiety, hope, and disappointment. Night began to fall somewhere between Lakeside, Lurelin, and the Dueling Peaks. Nearly nine hours, and not a trace!
He donned the Sheikah stealth armor to run faster.
As he made his way from the Whago Katta Shrine to Riverside Stable, he had to suppress a twinge of guilt. It was almost freeing – in a horrible way – to be alone again. Of course he missed his brothers, and of course worry for Wars sat like rock roast in his gut, but… the ability to go as fast as he wanted, as far as he wanted, wherever he wanted? He’d missed this.
20 minutes after materializing at Whago Katta, he was off to Kaya Wan and the Wetlands stable, with only a sinking heart and a handful of arrows to show for it.
8:35 pm
Always the same. Glide down, run in.
Anticipation.
Disappointment.
Hopeful eyes, a sad shake of the head.
Rupees and arrows exchanging hands, blue light overtaking his vision.
Stable after stable, town after town, time ticking ever on; the tension in his gut drawing ever tighter with each dead end.
9:35 pm
Wild soared over the corner of Foothill stable, folding his glider with shaking hands. He snatched it back out for one last desperate puff of air when he came too close to the pot by the stable walls, nearly cooking his foot.
He stumbled to a stop, haggard with exhaustion. White pants and blue feathers filled his vision, soon replaced by a concerned golden eye.
“Link, my friend, you should rest,” Kass said gently. “At least until morning.”
Wild stubbornly shook his head. “Can’t,” he muttered, regaining his feet. “Morning'll be too late. Still gotta lot t'search.”
He rubbed his eyes so hard his vision flashed korok green and malice pink, then shook himself and picked the next shrine. Beedle could sleep, just this once. He was almost out of rupees anyway.
10:55 pm
Wild's arms trembled with fatigue on the long flight to Tarrey Town, the 25 minutes just to get to the ground beating a horrid rhythm across his soul like a Moblin welding a sledgehammer. He would’ve just used the scope, but the lake's dark, foggy expanse killed the idea before it could take root. He staggered to the inn, the same pleas he’d repeated a dozen times dripping from his lips before he’d even made it through the door. He stayed just long enough to see Kapson begin to shake his head before blue Sheikah light enveloped him.
East Akkala, Death Mountain, Purah's lab. Almost there!
1:30 am
Myahm Agana Shrine…
Hateno Village. This was it, the last place to check. Please! Goddesses, please let them be asleep at the inn!
He burst through the door to the Ton Pu inn; Prima sadly shook her head before he could even open his mouth. Word must’ve made it ahead of me, for once.
The incessant tick-tick-tick of time paused, like the swoop of his stomach before freefall. Numbly, he left the inn, collapsing against its outer wall.
The Slate in his hands glowed merrily, ceaselessly, uncaring of his distress and exhaustion. Wild stared at the shrine icons, willing them to reveal to him where the Chain had gone.
The tiny clock in the corner changed to 1:50 am.
SLAM! Wild's fist collided with the side of the wall, his breathing accelerating as his anger rose.
Time, Twilight, Sky, Four, Hyrule, Wind, Legend…none of them would willingly leave without letting him know in some fashion. A note, a message with the innkeeper, Wind’s pirate charm, anything!
Only one possibility made sense. They had to have been kidnapped, too. Impa’s words from the day before churned in his mind.
“…I fear a great retribution from the evils of the world…”
Ice raced down his spine. Alone. Again. Like the Shrine of Resurrection. Like the beginning of his adventure.
Like Warriors.
The heat of his anger and the pressure to find his family coalesced into a diamond-like point behind his heart. I cannot fail. They need me.
Wild knew where one brother was.
He needed to see Warriors.
Decision made, time resumed its course in the back of his mind. 2 am. He punched the icon for the Kihiro Moh shrine and let the strings of light envelop him.
Make every moment count. Still in his stealth set, Wild moved like smoke, like water, following the path of least resistance. He’d been here frequently enough he knew the guards' routes by heart, and used it to his full advantage.
The Yiga wouldn’t be so obvious as to hold Wars in Barta's old cell. No, he’d be somewhere else, hidden deep, Wild just needed to find the odd one out in the pattern…he paused and rubbed at his eyes. Exhaustion pulled at his heels and dragged at his eyelids, and his stomach nearly gave him away with its growling. Maybe I should eat something…rest…
No! He shook his head, rattling the traitorous thought from his head in time to hide from an oncoming pool of torchlight. I can’t mess this up! Focus, stay out of sight!
Wait. This one! He's not on the usual path! He followed silently on the heels of the wandering blademaster, knowing that this was his chance.
They rounded a corner, then passed a doorway. Wild almost kept walking, except a flash of blond in the never-ending red, black, and gray caught his attention.
He checked his slate – 2:40 am – and slipped into the shadows of the doorway, impatiently counting the minutes until a guard passed once more. Ten minutes. Not a lot of time. He could work with that, though. He had to.
Taking a steadying breath, he turned, stepping into the room to finally see his brother.
Wars’ head hung low, loose, messy hair nearly touching his bare chest. Blood covered his face, shoulder, and legs, made starkly apparent by the horrible position he was restrained in…Wild made a face. I left him to this. This is my fault.
Bleary, distrustful eyes tracked up and met his, then closed wearily. Wild's heart clenched.
He pulled his water skin and a clean cloth from his pouch, dampening it enough to work at some of the dried blood pulling at the side of Warriors’ face. It took everything he had not to flinch when Warriors shied away from his touch.
More water, gotta work fast. Warriors' eyes opened, but Wild couldn’t meet them. Instead, he kept his attention on the cloth. “I’m sorry you got hurt for me.”
Warriors huffed, silent, still weary, still wary.
Briefly, Wild thought about just cutting Warriors loose and making a run for it. He wanted to cry, to hold his brother tight, to get him out of here, but as he was now…“I…haven’t been able to find anyone else. I was hoping to have their support, their items. It’s going to take me some time to get the things I need to get you out of here by myself.” Finally, he pulled himself together enough to look Wars in the eye. “Will…will you be okay for one more day?”
Warriors coughed dryly, silently, and Wild felt the ache in his brother's throat and body echo in his own scars. But Warriors nodded, and the worry choking Wild's heart loosened its stranglehold enough he could breathe.
I can’t get him out. What comfort can I give him? Concern lapped at the edges of Wild’s mind, and he felt the weight of the water skin in his hand. He held it up to Warriors. “I can’t offer much, but I can offer this. Drink,” he insisted.
The Captain drank greedily, notwithstanding his usual paranoia around unknown food sources, and Wild let him for as long as he dared.
All too soon, however, his internal clock pinged like stasis releasing, and he had to pull the water away from his brother. He stowed it in his pouch, steeling himself against the pleading gaze crawling along his skin. He swiftly checked his map – already past 2:55, we're out of time!! – then recalled his travel medallion, placing it at his brother's feet. “I have to go now,” he whispered. “I timed this to the guards' rotation, and one should be coming any minute. I’ll be back tomorrow, I swear.”
Before Warriors could say a word, Wild punched the icon for Robbie's lab and let the light take him.
He was going to elimiate the Yiga for what they did to his brother. He just hoped he had enough materials for Cherry.
~~~
“INSUFFICIENT MATERIALS AVAILABLE FOR EXCHANGE,” Cherry chirped negatively, and Wild groaned. He gave in to bis hunger and nibbled on a simple meat skewer as he checked her readout. He had plenty of arrows, thanks to his cross-continental restock spree, but he was desperately short on rupees as well as the ancient shafts, cores, and springs he’d need for the ancient arrows and other weaponry he wanted. But, if he limited himself to just the ancient bow and arrows…
Well, hunting down fifteen springs, nine shafts, and 2,000 rupees was manageable.
Hopefully. Exhaustion dragged his eyes closed and fatigue pulled at his limbs, but he shook them away, temporarily, always temporarily, to prepare himself. He’d never hunted guardians this tired, but he could collapse once Wars was safe.
For now, Wild took a deep breath in through his nose and held it, letting the oxygen-rich blood careen through his body. He shook out his fingers, loosening the muscles and preparing for the hours of fighting ahead. He felt his time-sense thin, shifting from the tick-tick-tick of Stasis to the more exhilarating sensing of the moments between, before; his Flurry Rush, primed and ready.
He released his breath and opened his eyes. Time to go. He grinned, a fierce determination and focus flaring as he hit the icon for the shrine near the quarry ruins.
He knew several of his brothers who were terrifying forces of nature despite their tiredness. He was happy to join their ranks.
-----
Seven hours, four potions, and an ungodly amount of weapons later, Wild had his ancient parts, scavenged from the smoking remains of yet another guardian stalker. He wiped a bit of oil and sweat from his face and stretched cramping fingers and limbs. His head and body ached from parrying lasers and hacking at metal shells, but he couldn’t find it in himself to regret it. Guardian stalkers, decayed guardians, and level III and IV Scouts for better weapons all fell beneath his relentless assault, and now he was that much closer to freeing Wars.
He fingered the icon for Shae Mo'sah Shrine and Goron City, figuring Ramella would be awake and willing to buy his gems for a decent price. He had at least ten of everything; no matter what she had a hankering for today, he would meet it.
-----
It took Wild far too long to find the wandering Gerudo woman, but at least he could always count on her to get straight to the point. “Sav'aaq Link. The daytime sure is scorching here!" she said plainly. "This is business talk, but I’m in the mood to procure some topazes today. Do you happen to have ten topazes? If so, I’ll buy them for 2,000 rupees. That’s more than a shop will–”
Wild had his arms full of gemstones before she could finish.
“–pay. Sarqso. It’s a huge help.” She carefully took his topaz hoard, and he gratefully accepted the rupees in exchange. “By the way,” Ramella started, “you don’t also happen to have ten sapphires, do you? I’ll trade you 2,900 rupees for them.”
Knowing how frequently the Chain needed to restock on items, Wild sold all his gems to Ramella, coming out with nearly 13,000 rupees. He’d be paying for the best rooms in any inn for the next three portals, at this rate!
His exultant mood faded when he pulled out his slate to teleport back to Robbie's lab. 11:10 am. Twenty-four hours since he’d freed himself; twenty-four hours for Wars to be alone, tortured by Wild’s enemies.
Hold on just a little longer. I’m coming.
As soon as the disorientation from teleporting cleared, Wild turned on his heel and burst through Robbie's door. He waited oh so patiently as Cherry processed his materials and rupees into a brand new ancient bow and 30 ancient arrows – enough to accurately and precisely banish every blademaster in the hideout to the void.
Quiet footsteps interrupted his staring contest with the unflinching ancient machine. He turned to see Jerrin standing just behind him, holding a tray with a few small cakes and a steaming mug. “It’s a cold morning,” she murmured, “and you look exhausted. I made you some warm safflina tea and energizing carrot cake, just for while you wait.”
The unexpected kindness of the gesture brought tears to Wild’s eyes. “I…I can’t–” he stammered.
She pushed the tray closer, gently herding him toward an empty chair. “Please, I insist. I was at the stable last night; I heard about the Yiga, and what you’re trying to do. You’ve done so much for all of us – let us return the favor.”
Wild blinked, overcome, and allowed Jerrin to settle him into the chair. He ate, mechanically at first, but once he started he couldn’t resist. The endura carrots in the cake rejuvenated his body, and even just the steam from the safflina tea relaxed sore, tense muscles.
He'd just finished both when Cherry spoke. “RESULTS AVAILABLE.”
Wild pushed away from the table and sprang to the machine, snatching up the bow and arrows. He slung the former over his shoulder and stowed the latter in his quiver. Before he teleported away, he turned and embraced Jerrin. “Thank you,” he whispered.
“Of course,” she said, embracing him back. She pushed away slightly, holding his shoulders and looking into his eyes. “Now go save your friend.”
Wild grinned and dissolved into Sheikah-blue strings of light, reforming once again at the Kihiro Moh shrine.
This time, even though he still needed to be careful, he was prepared in case things went sideways.
First, he needed to find Wars' clothes and gear. He could go in arrows blazing, but something in his mind – maybe Wars, maybe his old knight training – told him it might be more prudent to be able to blend in. He already had a windcleaver and vicious sickle from previous altercations with the Yiga, but he’d never thought about needing a uniform. The blademasters were all too big, but if he could find an armory or catch a footsoldier by surprise…
He got lucky. Barely two steps into their hideout, a footsoldier rounded the corner and froze, staring.
Their hands moved to start teleporting away, but Wild was faster, drawing his slate and locking them in stasis. Conscious of just how little time he had, he drew a guardian sword and slammed the pommel into the side of the Yiga's head, angling the strike toward the floor. Dead or unconscious, he didn’t care, he just needed them to stay put.
The rune chimed its release deep in his inner ear, and the soldier crumpled, mask knocked askew. Swiftly, Wild donned their tights, armor and mask, putting his hair up in the messy topknot typical of the Yiga.
He dropped an ancient arrow on the unconscious footsoldier before he left the room, pausing just long enough to ensure they vanished completely. One down.
Wild moved through the base with near-reckless confidence, bypassing the offshoot leading to Warriors' room for the moment in favor of making it to the front hall. He remembered his first time coming into the base and finding all the little recessed nooks filled with pots and boxes. If Wild were a betting man, and if Wars' things were anywhere in this place, that’s where he’d put his rupees.
Any single Yiga he passed received the same treatment as the first: stasis lock and an ancient arrow. He couldn’t afford to be noticed or called out, not yet, and it felt good to thin their ranks.
Concern rattled in his bones, however, when all he passed were footsoldiers. Usually there were at least a few blademasters patrolling the halls. Where could they all be?
Finally, he found the front room, picking off a couple more footsoldiers with stasis and his ancient bow. Once the room was clear, he started searching. Wars' scarf, tunics, and armor were in the third nook he tried; Wild shoved them all into his pouch, then drifted back the way he'd come, listening.
Now that he was focusing, he heard the low murmur of voices in the distance, rising and falling and spiking in a peculiar rhythm. He wasn’t very musically inclined, he couldn’t make heads nor tails of any pattern that might exist, but it felt important.
More importantly, the voices seemed to be coming from the direction of Warriors' cell. He moved a bit faster, worry for Wars making a home in his gut. He’d already been in the Yiga's clutches for over twenty-four hours, and if none of the blademasters were in their usual positions…
Suddenly, a breathless, agonized scream rent the air, echoing off the stone walls of the hideout. Fast on its heels, the voices resolved into gleeful laughter.
Ice flooded Wild's blood, slithering like a lizalfos under his skin. Wars! His heart sank as another scream shredded the dusty air.
Out of time to be delicate or cautious, Wild snatched up his slate and almost broke the screen tapping the icon for his travel medallion. This was almost certainly a bad idea, but Warriors could not wait any longer.
Wild materialized in the center of the medallion, and in the split second before time caught up with him he looked around.
Definitely a bad idea. He stood at the head of a semi-circle of blademasters, four or five paces away, with windcleavers drawn and hunger in their stance. The sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood absolutely drenched the air, even filtered through the Yiga's mask.
Heart in his throat, he turned his attention to Warriors. Each new wound – bloody nose, black eyes, multiple stab wounds and the wide, bloody chasm across his chest – hit like a silver moblin's punch to his gut.
My fault my fault my fault! Wild had tended his own share of wounds from windcleaver air blades. For the wound to be this deep, they'd have to have been torturing Wars nonstop for hours. While Wild was killing guardians, and trading gems, and having his tea and cake, these blademasters were killing Warriors!
Time caught up to him, and he watched as a desperate, burning hope ignited in Warriors' eyes. That hope pushed away his hurt, his self-blame, his sorrow; righteous indignation eagerly filled the empty space.
This ends now.
“Pardon the intrusion,” Wild said over his shoulder, forcing lightness and familiarity into his tone, “but I believe it is my turn now.”
He hopped backward a couple steps, ignoring the disgruntled murmuring rising amidst the bladmasters' ranks and giving himself room to use his own massive windcleaver. With swift, practiced ease he swung twice, aiming for the ropes around his brother's wrists.
The shattered hope in Wars' eyes hurt nearly as much as the tortured mewl he made when his abused body collapsed in an undignified heap on the sandy ground.
Revenge can wait. Wild abandoned his windcleaver and dove to Warriors' side, slipping into the moments between as an exceptionally impatient blademaster made an attempt to attack them. He used those moments to their fullest, sniping a dozen blademasters with the last of his ancient arrows, then opening his map and tapping the icon for the shrine under Zora's Domain.
Wild hugged Warriors close, his brother clammy and trembling fitfully in his grasp, and let the calming blue of Sheikah teleportation whisk them away.
