Ode To Storms, Part 1

[sinnatious]

Title: Ode To Storms

Summary: Linked Universe, 3 parts. Time is a paradox of Hylia’s own making, and this is how she deals with it. Time-centric.

Author’s Note: This is born out of a really really old Fierce Deity lore idea I played with back in Majora’s Mask days and never did anything with, but have now hamfisted it into Jojo's Linked Universe mostly because I wanted to see if I could.

It begins and ends like this.

They’re exhausted, injured, dirty, but – victorious. Laughing with relief that they’re all alive, giddy with fading post-battle adrenaline.

He can go into retirement content like this, Time thinks. There’s something deeply assuring to know that Hyrule is in good hands, and that his contemporaries are worthy heroes to the last.

“Let’s get out of here,” Hyrule suggests.

“Yeah, we have to go celebrate!” Wind cheers.

“Um, a problem with that,” Twilight reports. “The exit’s still locked.” He tugs on the heavy stone doors still sealing the entrance. They don’t budge. Legend joins him with his power gloves, and Time adds his strength as well. They might as well be pushing against a mountain – it doesn’t give at all.

It’s the only way out. No windows, no trapdoors, no other entrances – they’re in nothing more than an enormous stone cellar lined with flaming blue torches. Deep in an unknown temple, in an unfamiliar Hyrule, at a point in time not familiar to any of them. There are no spells or songs to teleport them out.

Before panic can set in, nine portals bloom into existence around them.

“Portals?” Sky asks. “Now?”

They wait for a moment, weapons at the ready, but nothing emerges from them. The portals simply wait, faintly thrumming.

The number doesn’t go unnoticed. “I guess this is the Goddess’s way of saying it’s time to go home?” Hyrule suggests. His voice wobbles on the last word, and he bites his lip.

“Is this… goodbye?” Wind asks, face falling.

Time stares into the portals, conflicted. “Every meeting is inevitably followed by a parting,” he murmurs, the words ringing hollow in his ears.

He can finally go home, finally go back to Malon and the ranch, but… these are his boys. They’re family. His heart aches at the thought of never seeing them again.

The moment is broken by Four slapping Wind on the back. “Don’t treat it like a sad thing! We get to see our homes and loved ones again. All adventures end someday, and I’m going to remember this one fondly.”

“He’s right,” Warriors agrees. “It means we did our duty. It’s been an honour fighting with all of you, and I’ll never forget it.”

The others are nodding in agreement. It’s like it breaks a dam, as everyone rushes to say their farewells and last words. Warriors goes to hand his Fire Rod back to Legend, who pushes it back into his hands with a scoff. Twilight and Wild are talking and crying, heads bent together. Sky picks Wind up, spinning him a circle one last time with a laugh. Time shakes Four’s hand with a smile and a thanks, ruffles Hyrule’s hair, comforts Wind when he starts sniffling as he says goodbye. Legend hugs Hyrule in the background loudly demanding that he take care of himself or he’ll curse him from beyond the grave. Wild gathers them all up to take a picture using his slate, then Wind demands they also take one with his pictograph.

“It’s a bit rude, though,” Legend remarks. “She couldn’t have even waited a day so we could celebrate properly?”

“I’m going to miss your cooking,” Sky tells Wild. “I was hoping we could enjoy it one last time.”

Twilight hugs Time fiercely. “Live a good life, without any regrets,” he says, voice tight. “Promise me.”

Time smiles, and returns the gesture. “Of course,” he says. “I expect the same of you. I couldn’t be more proud.”

Twilight lets go, eyes shining.

“Who goes where?” Four asks, eyeing the portals.

“It’s the Goddess’s magic. It probably doesn’t matter,” Legend says. “Or she would have left some sort of sign. Just choose whichever.”

“All together, then?” Sky suggests.

Everyone nods, spreading out, a portal each.

“I’ll miss you all!” Wind cries out.

Then Time steps into the portal.

……………

He steps out of the portal, and is immediately certain something has gone terribly wrong.

It’s not home, he knows that instantly – one glance at the shape of the mountains in the distance tells him that much. There’s something familiar about it, but he can’t peg where he recognises the horizon from.

Had they been mistaken, perhaps, and the portals weren’t bespoke after all? Had he taken the wrong one? Was one of the others adrift in his Hyrule, while he’d taken their place?

Or was the adventure not truly over?

Dread begins to pool in his stomach, but he ignores it for now. The portal has vanished behind him, so he has no choice but to move forward, to explore and find out why he’s here, and not heading home to the ranch and Malon’s welcoming embrace.

Three familiar figures appear in the distance. Sky, Warriors, and Four, walking towards him.

The sense of déjà vu sharpens, twisting his gut with sourness.

“You think he’s another one?” Four is asking Warriors.

Warriors scoffs. “Of course he is, look at him.”

“Hello!” Sky calls, waving. “Did you just happen to come through a portal?”

Time stares. Sky’s clothes are pristine – not yet stained and ragged from months on the road. Warriors is missing the small scar he’d picked up on his neck, the one he normally takes care to hide with the folds of his blue scarf. Four’s hair is a finger shorter than it had been just minutes ago.

He’s been here before. He’s experienced this exact moment already.

“You don’t remember?” Time asks, throat dry. He needs to ask. He has to know for sure.

They look at him, puzzled. “Remember what?” Four asks, gaze sharp and curious. Far more guarded than it had been after months on the road together.

Time is no stranger to time travel – he’s rather the expert in it, in fact. This is far from the first time he’s been forgotten.

It doesn’t sting any less.

He pulls himself together, through long and painful practice, and ignores the sick suspicion growing in the back of his thoughts. “Where is this? And for that matter, when is it?”

“We’re still figuring that out ourselves,” Warriors replies. “Just to check – your name?”

“Link,” he replies absently, though it feels strange on his tongue after so long. At some point he’d grown more used to being called ‘Old Man’, ‘Time’, and ‘Fairy Boy’ – his actual name no longer feels as though it fits.

“Told you,” Warriors says to Four, who rolls his eyes.

“Welcome to the club then. I’m Link, he’s Link, he’s also Link, there’s another two Links back at camp. Come with us, we’ll explain what we know so far.” Four gestures back the way the three of them came.

Time goes along with it, thoughts racing.

Their first meeting goes much like he remembers. Legend and Twilight are the two back at the camp – Twilight stares at him unceasingly from the minute he first arrives, and nearly forgets to respond when it’s his turn to introduce himself. If his memory servers him correctly, Hyrule will emerge from the woods later that night. Wild will arrive tomorrow. They’ll come across Wind fighting a trio of bokoblins the day after.

Everyone is faintly distressed by their similarities, so they quickly latch onto the things that set them apart – their titles, their skills, their experiences. No one is particularly forthcoming with details of their adventures, and so nobody asks more than the basics at risk of inviting those same questions upon themselves.

It’s uncomfortable. Time had worried about showing too much familiarity to begin with – it’s impossible to summon the same degree of caution he held when meeting his peers the first time - but the air of awkwardness takes care of the problem for him. Still, he minds his words, listening in on the tentative discussion between his fellow heroes without contributing.

He’d hoped that perhaps, among their number, someone else might remember. But their reactions are too natural, the gaps in their knowledge of each other too obvious – mistakes Time himself makes that go unnoticed. It’s only Warriors who makes a remark.

“You’re taking this well,” he comments.

“I could say the same of the rest of you,” Time responds easily.

Four huffs a laugh, and pokes at the fire. “Should have seen us yesterday when we first realised we all shared the same name. There was a lot of shouting.”

Time just hums, and when it seems like they’re waiting for more, offers, “I am called the Hero of Time, after all.” It’s an answer that provides nothing, but lets them draw their own conclusions. They all nod as though that makes sense and don’t pursue it.

He doesn’t understand, though. They’d won, hadn’t they? They’d defeated the threat the Goddess had brought them together to fight. So why is he back here, at the start? For what purpose?

There’s nothing to do but wait and see.

………………..

Despite Time’s intentions to simply observe, it’s not like it goes exactly the same. He’s practiced, but he makes mistakes – many of their battles are chaotic, and there are so many of them, he can’t remember every detail. And every small change accumulates. His relationships with the eight of them shift, subtly at first, but when they finally reach the end again, he’s closer this time to some, more distant with others. The group dynamics move to accommodate.

They’re still victorious. Twilight still hugs him fiercely, and demands he lives a good life. The threat is still defeated and everyone is alive and safe and happy – if only sad that they must now inevitably part.

As everyone steps through the portal, Time hangs back at the last second. The other portals all vanish, bar his – so nobody else had stayed behind, nothing went wrong there.

He waits, and scours the room, just in case. A relic overlooked, a scrap of dark magic left behind, perhaps?

There’s nothing. Only the faintly humming portal waiting for him.

He shifts from foot to foot. Glances over his shoulder at the door, but everything is in its place. No new foes have appeared. Everything is at peace.

He braces himself, takes a breath, and steps through.

………………..

It is madness to do the same thing again and again expecting a different result, but Time is patient, and watches, and learns. His first dozen attempts at stopping the moon from falling had been panicked and confused and rushed, and with the power of hindsight he knows he could have saved himself weeks of suffering if he’d simply spent some time observing before enacting a plan of action.

This is not Termina, however, and there is no falling moon. There is no clear event he must stop, no obvious quest. Things don’t go perfectly, but the losses and injuries sustained are minimal, and hardly worth mentioning. It doesn’t make any sense.

Twilight hugs him fiercely. “Live a good life, without any regrets,” he says, voice tight. “Promise me.”

Time hugs him back. “The same to you,” he says, then can’t resist throwing in, “See you again soon.”

Twilight just looks confused, but Time smiles at him. An idea occurs to him with the jest, and he grabs Twilight’s wrist, and tugs him towards the portal he’d chosen. “In fact, I’m not so sure it needs to be goodbye at all.” Twilight stumbles after him with wide eyes, as they step through the portal together.

Time steps out of a portal, alone, to a now-familiar horizon.

Twilight greets him the same as he always does – with a cautious stare, but unfamiliarity. It’s their first time meeting, all over again.

That’s one option ruled out, at least. Sharing portals doesn’t allow anyone else to remember their previous journey. And the Goddess apparently doesn’t need different portals to send them different places, either. Nine portals is just her way of being polite.

………………..

Time steps through a portal for the sixth time, and is back at the beginning.

He can’t figure it out. He’s chosen a different portal at the end, each time since the second. Walked through with Twilight once, then another time with Warriors. Waited two full days before stepping through on the fifth, until hunger and thirst drove him forward. Tried to escape the chamber with Farore’s Wind, tried destroying the doors locking him in with every tool in arsenal. Kept his attention sharp for months, for anything they could have overlooked, for anything the Goddess could possibly be displeased with.

There is no other path he can find, no impending disaster to stop, no evil overlooked. They go where the portals lead. They save Hyrule again and again and again. They overcome every trial.

The seventh time, he starts getting more drastic. There must be some other path, something non-obvious. Surely he wouldn’t be sent back without a reason? The Goddess can be cruel, but never has he known her to do things without purpose.

He leads them off path. Uses foreknowledge to attack enemies earlier, set up ambushes. Tries avoiding portals, but it doesn’t work – they follow them, persistent, and he can only put off his fellow heroes for so long. When they go through them doesn’t matter – they drop them at the same time regardless.

He lets a black lizalfos escape, one time, just to see if it might bring him a clue. It comes back later and stabs Hyrule in the back. The young hero dies, bleeding out in Legend’s arms despite their frantic efforts to pour potions down his throat before it’s too late.

Time slips away, plays his ocarina, and disposes of the creature with more prejudice than he had the first time.

One battle, he intervenes where Wild took a blow meant for Wind. It glances off his armour instead of their cook’s head, but the enemies he’d been fighting instead overwhelm Sky. The Chosen Hero loses a hand.

Time plays his ocarina. Sparing Wild another scar isn’t worth it.

They arrive in his Hyrule, but he doesn’t lead them to the ranch – he usually uses the opportunity to catch Malon up on his current predicament, but he wonders if perhaps there’s some event or detail he misses because he dares to neglect his duties to visit home.

Twilight is missing the next day, and Warriors sports Twili curse marks along his arms and crawling up his face, wounds from a war waged across timelines that had been all the fiercer. No one seems aware of the change.

Time quietly leaves the camp, plays his ocarina, and brings the boys to meet Malon. The knowledge it brings should be joyous, but is instead now heavy with grim responsibility.

He stops telling Malon about the cycle, after that.

Through trial and error, over several cycles, he learns what he can change, and what things unravel destiny. Many details don’t matter at all. There are certain events – the visit to the ranch, specific battles, first meetings – which seem fixed points from which any deviation leads only to loss. Other moments occur like leaves washing down a river, catching on a rock, floating ashore at different times but to the same ends.

At the end of it all, every time, they are victorious, and Time is left trapped inside a temple, staring at a portal.

…………………

One time, when they head through the portal after the visit to the ranch, Time elects to go last. Once the others have all stepped through, he turns, and heads back home.

There is nothing, he thinks, preventing him from simply staying in his time, is there? There are eight other heroes to take up the quest. He’s not so vain to think they need him to succeed, after all – they all managed the first time just fine without his foreknowledge. And if disaster is visited upon his Hyrule, he’ll know, and then it’s a simple matter of playing his ocarina, and stepping through the portal after all.

He walks several hours, retracing his steps back through Hyrule Field, making his way to Lon Lon Ranch, steeling his heart against looming guilt and responsibility. Trying his hardest not to contemplate what they’ll think when they turn, and wait, and he never steps through the portal after them.

He never makes it home. With the ranch in sight, a portal opens beneath his feet, and he is falling, tumbling, and he crashes out the other side.

Legend looks over his shoulder, and guffaws. “You alright there, Old Man? Tripped over your own feet?” He’s a mere few steps in front of him, as he had been when Time had turned his back on the first portal and chose to leave.

Time closes his eye for a moment, and takes a long, slow breath.

Sometimes the portals did that – sometimes they swept them up, did not even do them the courtesy of a choice. This is the first time that portal has happened, though, and it is telling. There could be no more obvious sign.

“Hey, are you alright?” Twilight asks, brow creased in concern. He heads over to help him to his feet.

He isn’t. He isn’t alright at all.

He just wants to escape.

…………………

Despite a dozen journeys with his fellow heroes, Time has yet to become used to working as a team. He can certainly preach it, but he’s never managed to internalise it – it’s often only due to Warriors’ or Twilight’s prodding that he remembers he has other heroes to rely on at all.

Desperate times, however.

His first instinct is to confide in Twilight, but he recoils at the thought of his protégé’s reaction. So he goes for the practical choice – Warriors, who is both the most insistent that they all learn to work together, and the next most familiar with involuntary time travel.

A few days into their quest, it’s trivial to arrange the two of them on watch together so they can talk in private. Time waits until the others are asleep, and gestures to Warriors with a jerk of his head to a spot just out of earshot of the camp. Warriors nods and follows him.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks without preamble.

“A quandary I’m seeking advice in,” Time explains.

That stops Warriors short – he’d evidently been expecting to receive advice, rather than be asked for it. “…About a battle?” he asks, then snaps his fingers. “Or perhaps, love? You might think yourself a hard sell Old Man, but women are far more open about scars than you’d guess. And there’s plenty we can do to brush you up – a new hairstyle would do you wonders, have you considered growing it out?”

No one has noticed his wedding ring yet this cycle, so he lets the remark slide with patient humour. “My love life is a good deal better than yours,” he assures him. “We’ve met before, you realise, Captain.”

Warriors breaks into a grin. “So it’s true, then? I thought those markings on your face looked familiar. And that sword. You finally grew into it!”

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner.” Warriors usually only waits until the third night to bother him about his resemblance to a child he once fought with.

“You’ve changed a lot,” Warriors defends. “Given the timelines – well, there was a chance the kid’s mask was modelled after you, if you came from an earlier period.” He hesitates. “And, well… I guess I wanted to think that maybe you got to have a quiet life, after all that.” His gaze darts to the scar on his face, but he doesn’t ask, and Time doesn’t offer.

“Would that we all could,” is all he says, instead. “That wasn’t what I meant, though, when I said we’ve met before.”

“Huh?”

“This journey we’re all on. I’ve done it before.”

The Captain goes still at that. “…Cia?”

“Possibly. She is the reason why I’m bringing this up with you.”

Warriors frowns. “She was my first thought, when I saw all of us gathered together,” he admits. “I don’t have any reason to think she’s gone back to her old ways, though. And it’s too convoluted. Why bring me into it, when I can warn all of you about her intentions? Or you, for that matter. She was the one who alerted me to the portal in the first place, but it was Zelda and Impa who signed off me going through.”

“Did she say anything about it?”

“Nothing. Lana checked it out too, told me it led to a different time and place, but since it wasn’t one of hers, she couldn’t tell me where.” He folds his arms, thinking. “What exactly happened?”

“We were victorious,” Time explains simply – Warriors knows better than to ask details on matters involving time travel. “Then nine portals formed – one for each of us, presumably to take us home. Except in my case, I stepped through back to the day and place where our quest first started, and none of you could recall it.”

“Only you?” Warriors clarifies. Time nods. “That’s… strange.” He paces for a moment. “How many times have you done this?”

“This is the fourth time,” Time lies.

Warriors nods briskly. “Right, so it’s a pattern then. Safe to assume if it were something obvious you would have spotted it on the second or third go through, but that it’ll keep happening until you find some way to stop it. Have you told anyone before?”

Time shakes his head.

Warriors scowls, but concedes, “At least you’re telling me now, I guess. You’ve come a long way from that secretive kid after all.”

If he only knew.

“It’s weird that it’s only you, though. Is the timeline splitting?” He shakes his head. “It can’t be that, if it’s Hylia, or at least one of her incarnations, creating these portals… that’s far too destabilising. And there’s not three, or four really, of you showing up, so – you’re not being physically sent back by the portal.” He grimaces, running a hand through his hair. “This is beyond anything we encountered, even when things went haywire. I think you need to consult with someone who really understands how this works.”

Time raises an eyebrow. “Someone like the ‘Hero of Time’, perhaps?”

Warriors scowls, and swipes at his shoulder. “Still a sarcastic little brat under there, aren’t you? But I get your point, Lana and Cia are probably the only people who would know more than you.”

Through the course of their journey, they visit his Hyrule, Legend’s, Twilight’s, and Wild’s, and a dozen others at unknown points in the timeline, with one Four suspects is at least in the temporal vicinity of his. Unfortunately, none are within reach of Warriors’ Hyrule, and more importantly, Lana and Cia. “I’m afraid that although we visit many Hyrules, we never step foot in yours, so unless you have some means of communicating with them...”

“No such luck.” Warriors thinks a bit more, then suggests, “What about your Zelda?”

It’s an idea, and embarrassing that it hasn’t occurred to him before now. Of course, it’s not so easy for him to get an audience with his Zelda – they are not quite strangers, but to most of Hyrule he is a nobody. He could of course always try sneaking in, but the consequences of getting caught as an adult are too high to risk.

Twilight’s Zelda, on the other hand, is just as knowledgeable in magic, and rather dispassionate, which he thinks might serve him well in getting an honest answer. And unlike Time, Twilight is lauded as a hero in his Hyrule, so getting an audience with royalty is a trivial matter. He usually reports to her after they deal with the local threat, in fact.

“It’s worth a shot,” he agrees. She’s not likely to know as much as Cia or Lana would, but after a dozen failed attempts at escaping the cycle, he’s willing to ask.

Warriors pats him on the shoulder. “We’ll figure something out,” he promises.

…………………

Time knows, from experience, that they will visit Twilight’s Hyrule Castle Town roughly six weeks into their journey, so he is content to bide his time until then. Warriors hassles him to tell the others regularly, but doesn’t betray his confidence. He does complain mightily about how Time uses his foreknowledge though, as often as he can.

“I get that there’s some cause and effect issues you want to sidestep, but why not just tell us some things, if you know what’s going to happen? Maybe save us a bit of trouble?” he asks one time, when the others are out of earshot.

“What point to efficiency when one can enjoy the journey?” Time replies easily. “It’s the first time for all of you. I would never deprive you of it.”

“Of trips into town asking around, sure. But you let us walk into an ambush three days ago!” Warriors argues.

“Did I?” Time asks serenely, and leaves the Captain stewing over what he could possibly mean by that.

Some ambushes he can avoid without consequence. Others, it’s much easier to let himself take a spear to the side than it is play his ocarina for days, rescuing his comrades from gruesome deaths. He’s become rather good at minimising the damage without dodging it entirely.

There’s also the matter that ultimately his knowledge of the nature of their enemy is of little use in ending the conflict early. They can only travel where the portals take them. There are no shortcuts. The portals are among the fixed points he cannot change – they appear at certain moments, stay or follow until they’re used, and lead to the same places and times regardless of when they step through them. And should he try to circumvent them alone, they will simply appear under him, and throw him to where he’s supposed to be.

Eventually, one of those portals finally leads them to Twilight’s Hyrule, where they put down a threat to the currently-being-renovated Hyrule Castle Town. Twilight usually goes to report to his Zelda on his own while the rest of them make the most of their proximity to bars and a marketplace, but on this occasion Time tags along. They go to meet the Princess in her private study – one of the first parts of the Castle restored to normal, the room painted a warm orange in the sunset.

“I was hoping we could discuss something in private, if you’d allow, Princess,” Time addresses her formally once Twilight’s finished explaining everything that’s been happening. His protégé pauses in surprise, and he adds to him, “It’s a magical matter sensitive to my Zelda, you see. I’m not certain if the royal family want it to be common knowledge.”

The explanation quells Twilight’s concern, and the mention of magic kills his interest. “If it’s alright with you, Princess…?” Twilight ventures.

“Certainly,” she replies calmly. “Thank you, Link. I wish all of you luck and safety in your journey.”

Twilight bows awkwardly and leaves the study, presumably to join the others at the bar Warriors and Legend had staked out earlier. Zelda waits until his footsteps recede in the distance before turning her sharp gaze on him. “So how may I help you, Sir Hero?”

“I’m not altogether certain you can, but my need is great enough that I must explore all options,” Time replies. “I must also confess, I lied about the purpose of our discussion.”

“I suspected.” She’s so different from his Zelda – more than just brown hair instead of blonde, and the darker hue of her eyes, the doll-like perfection of her face. She’s serious, and studious. It’s clear she rarely leaves the castle, even now. “I cannot imagine any secret of the royal family that would cause one of us to seek counsel across the centuries.”

Time grimaces. “I’m afraid my issue is of a more personal nature.” He pauses, choosing his words delicately. “In this timeline, I’m likely unknown, but my official title is the Hero of Time.”

Her gaze grows interested and wary in equal measure. “We have… records of such a hero, though they are few and, I’ve always felt, frustratingly vague.”

There’s something she’s withholding, he suspects, but it doesn’t matter. The royal family will always have secrets, no matter how many cursed wells Time unearths. “It’s possibly only tangentially related to my current problem, but it might be relevant. Allow me to explain.” Time lays out his dilemma as succinctly as he can. Zelda listens carefully, scratching a few notes on parchment with a feather quill as he talks.

“Quite the predicament,” she comments once he’s finished.

“I’m just about out of ideas,” Time admits. “So if you have any I haven’t tried yet, I would be in your debt.”

She thinks for a long moment, a single finger dragging along the parchment with her notes. “Ideas? No. These are magics that I myself have never tampered with. They are… risky, as you well know. And the power involved is not trivial. To circumvent it, or override it, may not be possible for any mortal being. But…” Here, she hesitates.

“What is it?” he prods.

“I can perhaps discern a why.”

It’s more than what he’s been able to learn on his own, but something about her tone suggests he’s not going to like it. He gestures for her to continue.

“The commonality is you,” Zelda says, expression impassive but voice terribly, achingly gentle. “I can see the ghost of it, the strands of magic and fate twisted around you. My only guess - and it is only a guess, Sir Hero - is that this journey has changed something about you, something which has the potential to knock destiny off its course.”

It’s unspoken between them that given his abilities, his power to alter destiny is immense indeed. The conclusion, however, is nothing short of devastating. “It’s a containment measure,” he murmurs.

Zelda inclines her head. “Perhaps. As I said, it is only a guess.”

Robotically, Time thanks her for her insights and excuses himself. She watches him leave with pitying eyes.

This here, finally, the purpose he’d searched so hard for. Somehow, he has become a paradox of Hylia’s own making, and this is how she solves it. She’s trapped him here, in this loop, where he can no longer damage other timelines. A point from which he can’t progress.

Time hums the Song of Storms under his breath as he leaves the castle, a mad soliloquy to the situation he’s found himself in. It was the same, in a way. A perfect circle, a closed loop from which there was no escape, only eternity. Round and round and round and round he goes.

It will drive him mad, in the end. Madder than the man in the windmill, madder than Tingle, perhaps. He can forsee it yet there’s nothing he can do. His attempts at knocking destiny off its course only costs others – and he is not yet mad enough to sacrifice others to save himself.

“Did she know anything that could help?” Warriors asks that evening, when the others are too deep in their cups to pay attention.

“No,” Time replies. He is beyond help.

……………….

Things proceed as normal after that. Time goes through the motions, conscious of Warriors’ concerned gaze at his back. The Captain presses him about a plan occasionally, writes Lana letters he sends off with the Postman, but they never receive a reply. Interference even in this, Time suspects.

In the end, they are victorious, and nine portals bloom into existence around them.

“Wait,” Warriors said, grabbing his sleeve. “You’re not-”

Time shakes his head. ‘After’ he mouths, and gets swept up in the familiar routine of farewells and well-wishes.

As everyone steps through the portals, this time Warriors stays back with him. He purses his lips, staring at him. “You didn’t tell anyone else at all, not even until the end.”

“It seems there will be other opportunities,” Time remarks wryly. “Thank you for keeping it to yourself, though.”

Warriors shakes his head. “Only because you insisted, and I’m not risking messing with time travel conundrums I don’t fully understand. Lana beat that much into my head.” He huffs, and grabs Time’s hand. “Well then. I’ve been thinking. Since nothing else worked, why not just come through my portal with me?”

Time blinks. “Pardon?”

“I know we never got a reply, but if you come with me, Lana or Cia can send you home, and you don’t have to rely on one of these damn things.” He jerks his thumb at the portal Time had been standing in front of. “If we can’t trust the Goddess to get you home, then we’ll just do it ourselves!”

He’s never told Warriors that he’s tried that before. Never explained that it won’t work. Nor can he dismiss the suspicion that the Guardians of Time might know and be complicit. If the goal is to contain him from doing further damage to the timelines, they might very well enforce it.

But Warriors looks so confident in his plan, Time can’t bear to tell him the truth.

“It’s worth a try,” Time lies, and lets Warriors tug him through the portal after him.

What good would the truth do, after all?

…………………

“Have we met before?” Warriors asks around the campfire, the second night into the next cycle.

“Why do you ask?” Time says. He knows better than to hope, but he’s always careful not to show his hand, just in case. Warriors usually singles him out to ask privately first, but Time hasn’t organised an overlapping watch for them yet.

Warriors frowns. “Your sword looks familiar. And the marks on your face – well, there was this kid, once…” He skirts around asking directly, but Time is at ease. He’s had this conversation dozens of times before, after all.

“I never told you my title back then, did I?” Time answers indirectly. “I’m surprised Lana didn’t clue you in.”

Warriors breaks into a grin. “It is you! By the Goddess is it weird, though – you’re all grown up and serious now!”

“The two of you have met before this?” Wild asks curiously. He’s only joined them today, and is still in the process of introductions.

“A long time ago for me,” Time says.

“My adventure involved some issues with timelines, and we crossed paths, fought together for a while,” Warriors explains while still offering as few details as he can. Time lets him. The war had been far from a pleasant experience - one he imagines the Captain is not keen to recount. He’ll take fighting monsters and traversing temples over fighting other hylians any day.

“Oh,” Sky says. “I was actually wondering the same thing.”

Warriors gives him a curious glance. “You crossed paths with more than just me?”

Twilight looks extremely invested in the conversation. “It’s news to me,” Time replies. “What makes you say that?”

Sky shrugs. “I don’t usually have such an easy time talking to new people. But talking to you, it feels like having a conversation with someone I’ve known for years.”

Time pats him on the shoulder. “That’s kind of you. Honestly, I feel the same way about all of you.”

Sky gives him a tentative – though slightly confused – smile.

………….

Nine portals.

Twilight hugs him fiercely. “Live a good life, without any regrets,” he says, voice tight. “Promise me.”

Time hugs him back. He’s practiced at it, but it feels insincere, when in his heart he knows he’ll see him again in a matter of hours. “The same to you,” he says. “I couldn’t be more proud.”

His tone might not be right, but it never seems to catch Twilight’s notice. There are tears in his eyes, but he’s a hero to the last.

Twilight doesn’t call him on his failure to make that promise. It’s a promise Time is beginning to think he will never be able to keep.