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It was a quiet evening, deep in Sky’s Faron Forest. The Chain had arrived there only that morning, and were wandering in the vague direction of the temple. It was still light out, but with no urgency in their path they had broken camp early - Four was nursing a concussion-induced migraine, and Hyrule was near passing out from magic exhaustion. On the one hand, someone should speak to him about that. On the other hand, he at least stopped casting when he had a headache, unlike some people Sky could mention.
Emergencies such as the one a few days ago notwithstanding, of course.
Just because there had been no fights in Sky’s world just yet did not mean they had recovered from the previous Hyrule’s.
And so they settled down with some excessively flavoured soup that Wild had been experimenting with, letting the conversation pick up around them. It fell into the usual banter of comparisons and one-upmanship, and Sky let his mind absently wander.
His attention turned back to the conversation around when his meal was done. Wind was just coming to the end of another epic tale of his, and looking around for the next teller of tall tales.
“Hey, Wild! It’s your turn to tell a story!” Wind grinned at him, his empty soup bowl balanced on his lap.
Wild scrunched up his face, clearly thinking hard. Eventually he shook his head, “I don’t know many stories… Impa only told me the legends about the previous heroes.”
Sky could unfortunately see the problem with that. Usually people would just tell something from their own journey, but Time had banned it after people started feeling forced to share.
Again, Sky could see the problem both ways there.
“Don’t you know any others?” Wind begged. “Something so impossibly impossible!”
Wild continued chewing on his lip, glancing around the group. Everyone looked a little uncomfortable, not nobody said anything to stop him. Sky wondered if he should, but he could not deny he was curious. What sort of things did the forgotten future say about him? About any of them?
He was as horrified by the idea as he was intrigued, but never let it be said that a hero of courage backed down from a little horror.
“I could-” Wild’s thinking expression lit up, then he glanced at Time, and seemed to think better of it. Another few moment’s thinking, and he lit up again. “I could tell you the story of how a Hero of Courage destroyed the leviathans? I’m pretty sure they actually died of natural causes, so it should be fine…”
Sky did not see any problem with it, so he shrugged. Nobody else seemed to come up with any problems, either, and so Wild flashed half a grin and began his tale. “Once upon an age ago, there was a Hero of Courage named Link. Already having saved the world from the Ganon of his age, he set to adventuring across the sea…”
Wild was not exactly what Sky would call a good storyteller, his words darting all over the place and full of backtracking as he realised a key detail had been forgotten, but he was enthralling. It was strange to see him speak so animatedly and so much, and something about the way his tones shifted dragged Sky deeper and deeper in.
The tale began with the Link of the story being shipwrecked by a storm, and being awoken on a beautiful island paradise. He was cared for by the local people as he healed, particularly a young girl named Zelda. Once he stepped outside her house, however, he was met by a magical pheasant. The pheasant said that the island was being destroyed by the nightmares of the Great Leviathan, and a hero was needed to save them all.
To do so, he had to wake the Great Leviathan. To wake the Great Leviathan, he needed eight magical instruments. And so Link quested to find the instruments, meeting monsters at every turn.
There was something strange, however. At first the monsters begged for their lives - normal enough - but then they took a different tactic. They began to say that if the Great Leviathan was awoken then not only would the monsters die, but everyone on the island would perish.
The pheasant said this was just the desperate monsters trying to force Link’s hand.
The pheasant said the same when Link found ancient records saying exactly that.
Link was still very young, however, and Zelda loved the Great Leviathan. All of the townspeople did, but none loved it more than Zelda. She would sing and dance and play her ocarina for the beast, and to it she would pray. Most of the townspeople could not comprehend a life other than that on the island, but not Zelda. Zelda wanted to travel beyond the sea, to have the freedom of the gulls that only came and went from the island with time.
It was Zelda who taught Link the Ballad of the Leviathans, an ancient song that would wake the Great Leviathan. While simple enough to play on the ocarina, it enchanted the other instruments to play along with it, creating a great chorus.
And so Link took the song, and despite his hesitations, he ascended the mountains to the egg in which the Great Leviathan slept.
With Zelda’s song he cracked the egg, and wandered the maze inside. Eventually he found the depths of the egg. The nightmares of the Great Leviathan found him there, taunting him still. The people on the island were trapped here by the Great Leviathan, they said. If he wakes the beast they will be killed, they said. You need to free them first, they said.
But it was nightmares who told Link so, shaped by the horrors not of the leviathan now, but of Link’s own past and imagination. Why would he trust the words of a nightmare shaped as his memory of Ganon? Why would he ever have done so?
Zelda loved the Great Leviathan, and so with the eight sacred instruments and the ocarina of dreams in hand, Link fought back the nightmares, slaying them all.
And then, he played again for the Great Leviathan, waking the beast from its slumber…
To his horror, the Great Leviathan revealed at least some of the nightmare’s words to be true: the people of the island were humans trapped within the dreamscape of the beast, and would be unable to follow when he awoke. Instead their souls would be trapped in the mindscape forever, their bodies killed as the connection between flesh and soul was severed.
Link would get to escape, however - he was in the very mind of the Great Leviathan, and so as the Great Leviathan awoke he was dragged along too.
And worse than that, than the horror of realising that he had killed so many - the magical pheasant appeared at the Great Leviathan’s side. It was but a manifestation of the Great Leviathan’s will, it explained. All along it had known the truth, but had guided Link away from knowing.
Before he could even scream Link awoke, finding himself on a very familiar island. He ran to the houses, opening each and every one.
Every person was accounted for, and every single one of them - from the shy old man to the new born baby - were dead. Even Zelda, who had loved the beast, lay at the foot of the Great Leviathan’s shrine, fingers clutching her ocarina even though her soul was long gone. He buried the bodies of the townsfolk, even if he knew their souls could not yet rest. With his own hands he carved the gravestones, and above each one he planted their favourite flowers.
And then that solemn duty was done.
In fury Link turned back to the waves. The pheasant and the Great Leviathan had tricked him, and caused the island to die. Even now, the souls of the islanders remained trapped within the beast.
And so Link turned the Master Sword to the sea and to the heavens. He could not save the lives of the islanders, but still he could save their souls. He built himself a boat of timber and spite, and cast himself back out to sea. From that flimsy boat he mounted the Great Leviathan, and slew the beast that had tricked him so.
As the Great Leviathan died, the souls of the islanders at last were free. They faded away with nary a word, but for Zelda. Her eyes were sad as she cupped Link’s cheek. A kiss she pressed to his forehead, and a song of mourning she sang even as she herself drifted away.
“There was nothing left for Link in that land,” Wild said, tying off his tale. “And so with grief in his heart, he continued wandering on.”
In the aftermath of the tale, there was silence in the camp. Sky glanced around. Nobody seemed entirely happy or comfortable, all likely doing what Sky was avoiding and considering themselves in the fake hero’s shoes.
All of them that was, except for Legend.
Legend’s face was pale and his fingers were clenched tightly in his tunic. His face was twisted in a memory, the scowl replaced with a sort of fragile horror. There was only one possible reason - either the tale was real, or Legend had lived through something very similar.
Well, fuck.
Wild seemed to come to the same conclusion at about the same time, for his face also paled.
“Shit, Legend, I-”
Legend stood, not giving any answer or word as he stepped away from the fire and into the forest. As soon as he was past the first tree, he broke into a run.
Wild tried to give chase, only for Time to grab his shoulder.
“Not now,” he told him. “He won’t want to see you.”
Wild flinched. The words did sound harsh, but they were probably true. Sky glanced around the rest of the camp, assessing the situation. Hyrule seemed about to volunteer to go instead, but… Magic exhaustion. What he needed was sleep, and to be better rested come morning. Sky’s own experience with being tired and pushing himself too far only made him less likely to let their traveller volunteer.
“I’ll go,” he finally said, brushing dust from his tunic and grabbing both the Master Sword and his bag. “I know the area and, anyway, by the time I catch up he’ll have calmed down.”
Time nodded to him, and some of the others looked relieved someone else had volunteered.
“If you’re not back by dark, we’ll send a search party.”
If he wasn’t back by nightfall, Sky was probably dead. Still, he appreciated the sentiment.
He clipped the Master Sword into place, took the torch Warriors was offering, and set off into the trees.
It was thankfully easy to find Legend. Despite his clear agitation, he had made no effort to hide his path. That alone would not have helped Sky, but it did at least grant him an excuse. The Chain knew that Fi could track down items, but tracking people? He preferred to keep it to himself.
Legend had fled further than anyone would have suspected, especially in an unknown Hyrule. Normally he was the one snarking about their lack of self-preservation; now the situation was turned on its head. Sky was of a mind to give him a taste of his own medicine, but for the pale horror on his face.
Still, Sky did not move quickly. He followed Fi’s trail at a steady pace, quietly thanking her for her service. She might be dormant now, but still… She was something of a friend, and he would ever be polite.
When he found him, Legend was a good twenty minutes walk from the camp. It would have been less for some of the others, but Sky knew when not to push himself.
Legend was sat on a rotting, fallen tree and gazing into the middle distance. They were not even in a proper clearing, the tree having been shorter than its fellows and somehow falling between them. Something in Legend’s expression put Sky off from disturbing him. He stamped on a few twigs, just to make sure Legend would not jump at his presence, before approaching. With a huff but no words he sat beside his friend, and pulled out his whittling knife and a half-finished project.
It was supposed to be a little carving of Wolfie, but an ambush a few days prior had had him accidentally slicing through the eye. Sky had nearly thrown it out, before deciding there was something of Time in the wooden wolf’s expression. And so had spawned a project, to make little carvings of each of his companions as wolves - it was obvious if anyone looked, but had just enough plausible deniability for him to get away with it.
While the project had been started, there was little progress - not even the Wolf of Time was completed yet, thanks to their unending adventure.
Well, maybe it would be soon - Sky knew better than to press Legend for answers. Rather than make any comment at all, he continued his work. One ear he kept on their surroundings, half expecting another ambush, while the other was focused on Legend himself.
Bar the distant expression and slightly unsteady breathing, he seemed… Physically fine.
Waiting it out, then. At least he was not alone.
Now, of course, the question was if he should carve in Time’s facial markings to the wolf, or just paint them later…
Eventually, Sky’s patience paid off. Legend did not look at him, but rather to the sky. He breathed once, then again, then quietly muttered, “it’s stupid, letting it get to me; Koholint was never even real.”
Sky studied Legend for a moment, before putting down his carving. That was only to stop him falling asleep; instead he gently placed a hand next to Legend’s knee. “Seems like it was real enough to you.”
Legend scoffed, twisting inwards, “it wasn’t, though. Everything - the island, its people, an entire world just a figment of a dream. Who's to say this is even real? That we aren’t all just the imaginings of a fucked up sky fish.”
Far out of his depth, Sky did not reply. Instead he pulled his hand back, before unclasping his sailcloth and wrapping it around them both. Legend froze and, for a moment, he thought he would be pushed away. It seemed like Legend thought he would, too; he moved sharply, but his fingers caught in the soft fabric, and he pulled it tighter instead.
"It's not fair," Legend whispered, tone softer and sharper both. "He trapped me and used me and maybe his nightmares are gone, but its all still here. Its still here, in my mind, and it isn't fair ."
"It's not," Sky agreed. "It never was."
Legend let go of the cloth, leaving it there as he clawed his hands down his face. His fingers found his eyes and stayed there, pressing uncomfortably deep. Sky let him; crying for an audience was rough enough at the best of times.
That sat quietly for another long stretch, Legend forcing himself not to cry while Sky barely struggled to stay awake. Curious as he was, Sky was unwilling to pry. Just an exchange of tales had left Legend with less privacy than he deserved, and pushing would only make it worse.
Eventually, though, he realised he had to say something.
“I met what I think is one of Wild’s leviathans once,” he eventually said. “His name is Levias, and he guards both the skies and the song of the hero.”
Legend finally removed his hands from his eyes, levelling Sky with an unimpressed stare.
“I know, I know,” Sky laughed a little. The laugh twisted, as the desperation of the memory wormed its way into his brain. “You see, nothing is ever so simple - god-appointed he might have been, but he was infected with a parasite. A quarter of our islands were absorbed into his storm. Crimson and I had to fight him and the biolocite. She had to cut it away with her beak, then I had to stand on his back and fight, all while he tried to shake me off. And in return… I got sent on another quest to the surface. Three more quests, before he’d give me the song I needed from him. All while Zelda was on the other side of a time gate, and Impa’s words about me being too slow were about all I could think of. With every aside I was tugged on, all I could think of was that she was probably dead, and it would be my fault for failing her.”
It… Had been rather horrifying, now that he thought of it like that. And with that realisation, he fell into an awkward pause. What was his point again? It certainly hadn’t been to remember that his own journey was somewhat more harrowing than he remembered it being.
“... And this is supposed to make me feel better how exactly?” Despite his bitter words, Legend’s arm found its way across Sky’s back.
“I’m not sure,” Sky frowned, putting his head on Legend’s shoulder. The veteran of far too much tensed for a moment, but allowed it. “But Wild stumbled into giving up one of your stories, so I gave you one of mine. I know it is not the same, but…”
He trailed off; the pause was awkward again. Sky wasn’t really sure how to handle a Legend so… resigned, but he did what he could. What sort of friend was he, if he left one of his own to their grief?
“There were people on Koholint,” Legend eventually rested his head on Sky’s. “Wild… He was right about that. Though, they weren’t truly people, unlike his. Just… The dreams of an almighty fish. I should have known they weren’t real - there was a village of talking rabbits and crocodiles and hippos as well as the Hylian village - but… Everyone seemed so alive. Mamasha and Papahl had four sons and a baby daughter. Old Man Ulrira and Granny… Tarin, and Marin - not Zelda, it was Marin who saved me, there was no Zelda there… I remember them so well. There was always something off, they couldn’t conceive of when or where but… There were families, and they loved people, and they were all so kind and so human. I just- Marin wanted to tell me something, right before the end. I tried to ask her once her father had left, but all she’d say was it a secret. That she’d prayed to the Wind Fish for what she wanted, and it was a secret now. She wanted to be a seagull, she’d said before. So she could fly away and escape the island and see elsewhere. And she’ll never get to, because she doesn’t exist, and I’m the only person in the world who remembers… Anything.”
Sky heard a lilt on Marin’s name, and suspected he knew what it might be. He did not mention it; Legend would tell in his time, or he wouldn’t, and pressing never helped. Not with Sky himself, and not with any of the inheritors of his god-forsaken curse. Instead, he wormed his arms around Legend, and squeezed him tightly. What could he say? Next to Sky’s own adventures… Sky did his best not to belittle his own trauma, but in the face of such grief it always felt so insignificant. And was it not his fault?
No, Legend was hurting. And so, Sky would help. And push aside his own thoughts. Helping time, now. Make Legend feel a little more himself once again.
Legend shifted in Sky’s grip, but did not pull away as he continued, “the monsters tried to tell me, when that failed they took the form of my own terrors to try stop me,” the confession was whispered back, quieter still. “And it said in the shrine, but… The Owl- He- That /fucker/ was a manifestation of the Wind Fish’s spirit, or something. He said… He promised he didn’t know. But he did know! He dragged me into the dream, and then the only way I could get home…”
“... Was to wake him up,” Sky breathed out the words when Legend’s voice trailed away.
A nod above his head and dampness in his hair was all the confirmation Sky needed.
“I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
Legend’s voice was tiny as he spoke those words. He was not old, but there was a waver of the child he must have been when all this happened, something young and ancient and shattered at its core. Sky’s heart broke alongside it.
“Oh, Legend,” and was it not a mark of just how distressed Legend was that he permitted the words, not snarking them away or biting back? “I am sorry. I am so, so sorry. It… It should never have been up to you. You did nothing wrong, it wasn’t your fault - I promise you, it was never your fault.”
“But it was. If I hadn’t-”
Sky pulled a little away, tapping Legend’s nose lightly as he let the severity of his words show in his expression, “it. Was. Not. Your. Fault. You did nothing wrong, and it is only right that you grieve your friends.”
“But-”
“Anything real enough to be remembered matters,” Sky spoke with a certainty he did not feel, and a wisdom that must have been a lingering effect of the triforce rather than an innate knowledge of his own. “Your friends were once, and now are not. It is only right that you grieve for them. It is only right that you grieve for them. If only you remember them, it just makes it more important to.“
Legend scowled, turning himself inwards.
Sky was having none of that.
“You’re only human,” Sky tried to soothe. “You do it all the time. Go on - I give you permission; as soon as you get the chance, write your goodbyes, and cast them out to sea. Send them flowers, make headstones, take time to remember and grieve.”
“... What are you, the old man? I don’t need your permission,” the comment was wet and thick with tears, blunted by water and grief. Still, Sky smiled a little to hear it.
“Then you don’t have my permission, but you should do it anyway.”
Legend grunted a non-response, but Sky liked to think that maybe he was taking the advice on board. Though, if Legend wanted to ignore what was said and make it light… Sky would let him. None of them handled these things well, and surely every last speck of emotions was already drained dry.
Thinking the conversation over, Sky nearly pulled himself away. At his first twitch, however, Legend’s grip tightened. Terrified of Legend thinking that Sky had had enough of him, he shifted the movement into just an adjusting of position, and caught him tighter back.
“It’s just-” Legend began again, cutting himself off with an exhausted sigh.
Sky held up a finger, cutting Legend off, “It’s just bullshit, is what it is.”
The comment earnt Sky a small, moist laugh, “... It is a bit, isn’t it?”
“A lot of bullshit, not just a bit,” Sky retorted, trying to bring comfort with a little bit of snark. “Complete and utter bullshit. You did not deserve it. Not a single moment of it.”
Legend did not reply. The anxiety of surely having said something wrong built and built and built in Sky’s chest until it was near suffocating. It only grew further when Legend pulled completely away, returning the sailcloth and scrubbing his face with his sleeve.
“We should get back to camp,” Legend eventually said, voice still wavering dangerously.
Sky looked up. It was not quite truly dark yet, but Legend did have a point. As usual. He took one breath, and then another. Nothing he did wrong, just getting late. “Before they burn it down you mean?”
Legend stared at him for a long moment, before making an ugly, snorting sort of laugh, “exactly.”
Well, at least Legend was still willing to talk to him after all this. Sky would take what mercies he could. Quickly he shook the dusty mud from his sailcloth, and pinned it back into place.
Just as he was scowling at the pin, trying to make it latch properly, Legend spoke again. It was soft, whispered, and clearly not truly intended to be heard.
“Thank you,” were the words whispered into the wind.
Sky did not even pause as he reached down to also brush the dust from his trousers. He had already heard enough of Legend’s secrets for one night. They could pretend he had never heard that one, too.