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“Aren’t these mine?” Legend called, lifting a bag of bombchus out of a box. “They’re definitely mine.”
Ravio made his way through the crowded shop, folding his hands together anxiously. A small smile peeked out from under his hood. “You gave me a couple boxes before your new journey and said ‘please get rid of all this crap.’”
“...So you put them in your shop,” Legend sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.”
He went to pocket them, but Ravio stopped him with an, ‘ah-ah-ah,” and wiggled his finger.
“...Rav. You can’t be serious.”
“Dead serious!” Ravio chirped. “I’m running a business. Fifty to rent, eight-hundred to buy.”
Mask leaned his elbows forward on the counter expectantly, fully expecting a fight. It was why he didn’t offer his own set of bombchus for Legend to use. This just got interesting.
Legend sighed and pressed a purple rupee into Ravio’s outstretched hand. “There you go, asshole.”
Ravio reached over to pat him–to pat Legend !--on the head. “Thank you, Mr. Hero!”
Legend stalked off with his semi-newly acquired bombchus, grumbling to himself.
Mask’s jaw dropped. What the hell was that? Legend didn’t go for an argument. He didn’t fuss or complain even remotely anywhere close to usual. He narrowed his eyes at Ravio, trying to think of what the merchant had been like during the war.
Just then, Warriors nudged him, completely oblivious to his horror. “The bombchus here are kinda small, huh?”
–
Mask had gone from staring at Ravio, trying to figure out what kind of hidden power this merchant had, to being dropped through a brand new portal. He stumbled out of it with very little grace, just barely managing to land on both feet.
It was raining pretty heavily, enough that the droplets hurt. Mask ducked his head lower and put an arm up to guard his face.
“Wild’s Hyrule!” Twilight called, barely audible over rumbling thunder. Either way, he sounded far. It didn’t look like anyone else was nearby.
He huffed a big sigh and started running toward Twi’s voice. The path he’d landed on was half mud by now. It was a struggle to lift his boots, and every couple steps he would have to take a great effort to pull his boot up out of the mud with a loud, squelching ‘pop!’
As Mask got closer, he could hear a tell-tale clang of metal just over the downpour.
Monsters.
Admittedly, Mask liked Wild’s monsters. They were… well, fun felt like the wrong word. But they were! He picked up the pace and drew his sword.
Once he made it over a small hill, he paused to assess the situation. It reminded him of Warriors’ era. There were monsters and people every which way. Because of the rain, visibility was low. He could hardly tell what exactly was going on here. Similarly to the war, the only thing he could really make out was the flutter of a royal blue scarf in the wind.
Mask hurried down the hill, drawing his bow as he practically slid down the muddy hill. He fired through the haze and grinned when his arrow connected with a glowing yellow chuchu that had been getting dangerously close to Warriors. Luckily, it was just far enough away that when it exploded its electricity didn’t hit Warriors. A bokoblin that had been near it, though, wasn’t so lucky.
“Thanks, bud,” Warriors huffed when he got closer, taking a step to the side so that Mask could fight beside him. He held his shield up in a guard against a particularly nasty-looking moblin that pestered at his other side.
Mask ducked under his shield and drove his sword upward. The monster was tall, even taller than Warriors (which made Mask feel a bit better). He only managed to get his sword through the monster’s chest. He twisted, holding the moblin in place while Warriors spun his sword in a flourish– show-off –and sliced through its throat.
“Have you seen anyone else?”
Mask shook his head and signed, ‘Heard Twilight.’
“We’re missing a few,” Warriors replied. “Damn. I was hoping to just have not seen them in this rain.”
It was unlikely. Even in the worst conditions, Warriors was a pro at keeping track of everyone’s positions on the battlefield.
‘Who?’
“Legend, Four, and Hyrule,” Warriors replied. “I also haven’t seen Wild, but I saw one of his magic bombs go off nearby. He’s not far.”
Mask fished in his bag for his bunny hood and put it on, then jabbed his thumb to the right.
“Guess I’ll look left.” Warriors smiled. “Just be careful-”
Mask was gone before he was even done speaking. He ducked between various monsters, opting to ignore them in favor of looking for the others. It didn’t take long for him to find a copse of trees. It wasn’t likely that someone was in there, so he skidded to a stop and took a look around. If not the trees, where else?
A shrill ocarina note sounded from within the trees. It was a call for help.
Mask rolled his eyes. Of course. He had to go and think that nobody was in the trees. He darted between them, feeling at home in the thick undergrowth. It was easier to move here, too. The plant life kept the ground from turning to pure muddy sludge.
It didn’t take long to find Legend in a little clearing. His sword arm hung limply at his side and his other hand gripped tightly onto a magic rod. A lynel stood at the center of them all, raising a bow skyward. It loosed a volley of arrows toward the veteran.
Legend raised his magic rod, the base of it lighting up bright red like a beacon in the rain. A whirlwind of fire burst forth from it. The flames faltered a few feet in the air, deterred both by a lack of magic and the heavy rain. Regardless, the fire lapped hungrily at the arrows and burned them out of the air. A few of the arrowheads bounced harmlessly, having lost their speed, off his tunic.
Mask crossed the clearing toward the lynel. He threw a deku nut at its back hooves. The brief flash of light wasn’t enough to do anything against the monster, but that wasn’t Mask’s intent. He grinned triumphantly when it turned around to face him instead. Legend could heal up and join back in the fight, day saved, thank you very much.
He rolled backward, ducking entirely behind his shield. The lynel’s claymore slammed against his shield with such a force that Mask’s boots dug nearly half a foot into the mud.
There wasn’t much time to move. He struggled to get back out of the mud, nearly losing one of his boots in the process. He only barely managed to roll out of the way of its next attack, another swing of its claymore that lodged in the mud and sent it flying everywhere.
He spared a glance between the lynel’s arms at Legend. He was dragging at something–no, someone on the ground. That must be Four or Hyrule, but if Mask had to wager a guess it was Four. They usually passed out after portals. His arm still hung at his side. Legend must have run out of potions or fairies.
Day unsaved.
The lynel roared, calling Mask’s attention back. It opened its mouth wide, an ember glow building in its maw.
Mask knew this! He chuckled to himself, lobbing a bomb into the monster’s open mouth.
Okay. He thought he knew this. His bomb must have landed with the fuse pointed down the lynel’s throat, because it exploded instantly. Its mouth just wasn’t wide enough to actually swallow the bomb. The explosion caught Mask, flinging him backward into a bush.
His ears rang, and he tried to ignore the dizzy feeling in his head. Somewhere, he could hear Legend calling out for him. His vision blurred as he found the lynel again. It stood a good ten feet away, but Mask could see the intensity in its red-eyed gaze. Dark strands of black blood stood out against its silvery skin. It reached for its bow.
Mask does, too. He nocked an ice arrow and let loose just a fraction of a second before the lynel did. The difference in time–and the fact that the lynel shot straight into the air–gave him precious seconds to position his shield over his head.
He hears about ten ‘tinks!’ against the metal. Mask peeks from out of his cover.
Thank the three, Mask had put more than enough magic into his ice arrow to keep the lynel frozen for a good while. Without the rain, he might not have had so much success.
He scurries across the clearing to help Legend. He had his arms hooked under Four’s arms, dragging them through the mud. The poor guy was going to be so upset about their tunic, Mask could already tell. He took Four’s legs, helping Legend make the last of the distance to a bush. For extra measure, Mask popped the stone mask onto Four’s face to keep them extra hidden. As he leaned down, he noticed a familiar tuft of brown hair. Hyrule, similar to Four, was completely out. He had a sick-looking pallor.
So much for keeping this spot hidden.
“I have some of my magic back,” Legend said with a wince, shifting to switch out for his ice rod instead of his fire rod. “Maybe we can keep it frozen.”
‘Red potion?’ Mask signed.
“Ran out.”
Mask frowned. He offered one of his own potions to Legend, a quarter-full red. Legend took it. It wasn’t enough to heal his arm, but it was enough to keep the pain at a minimum until they were done fighting.
“Listen, I’ll keep this guy frozen. You gave me a good start,” Legend said. Mask glanced back to the lynel. The ice encasing it was starting to crack. “Go get someone to help. You’re the fastest with that bunny hood of yours.”
‘I can kill it!’ Mask insisted. ‘Just don’t get in my way!’
With that, he pointed at the bush.
“Absolutely not. Even Wild struggles with black blooded lynels,” Legend scoffed. “That thing’s hoof is the size of your head, kid.”
Mask glared. He could do it, he knew he could. He just didn’t want to worry about anyone else during the fight. If it came down to it, he always had his backup plan.
At the same time, he understood where Legend came from. Lynels were, according to Wild, smart even without black blood enhancing their intellect. They ran the risk of the lynel focusing on the wounded.
‘Fine,’ Mask signed. He charged another ice arrow and fired it toward the lynel.
The arrow sailed through empty air.
“It’s…” Legend frowned. “It’s gone.”
Neither moved for a moment. It was long enough for the lynel to burst out of the trees opposite them, charging the two with a ground-shaking roar. Legend clicked his pegasus boots together, readied his shield, and charged back at it.
Mask watched in horror. He knew why Legend did it. The lynel was heading straight for Four and Hyrule, and if it didn’t trample them it’d surely kill them. There was little he could do as the two collided. It swung its big sword in an arc toward Legend, who only managed to catch part of the attack on his shield. The latter half of the strike tore through a part of his torso easily. Too easily. The sword caught in his side after a point, and the lynel had to shake its sword a few times to get him loose.
Legend hardly made a noise as he was thrown to the side like a doll. He didn’t get back up from his spot on the ground. Triumphantly, the lynel stalked slowly toward him.
Mask hardly noticed himself doing it until it was too late. He put his Fierce Deity’s mask on, a strangled cry escaping his throat that warbles as his vocal cords grew with him. The lynel paused in its tracks, turning to address the sudden overwhelming presence of dark magic. A flash of lightning illuminated its silhouette against the trees.
It took the Deity three swings to cleave through the lynel. Mask stumbled when its hold over him lets go, and he caught the mask before it fell to the ground.
A slight haze covered his thoughts for a short while. All he could smell was gunpowder, blood, and mud. His eyes raked across the clearing and his chest heaved, trying to figure out where he was.
Where was he? He didn’t usually wander so far from the soldiers or Link, especially not during a fight. If Link wasn’t nearby, Tune, Spirit, Phantom, or Tetra must be. Mask stumbled forward and swiped a shaky hand across his eye to clear the rain from his lashes. He paused when his foot caught on a body.
He paused. He didn’t make a habit of looking at the soldier’s bodies when he passed them at Impa’s advice, but the clearing was empty. It was a little odd for a lone soldier to be out this far with him.
Mask looked down. A pink-haired stranger laid on the ground before him, eyes wild with pain and chest heaving in an attempt to breathe. He didn’t look like a soldier. His side was torn and bloody, so much so that Mask couldn’t tell just how bad the wound was. He could only tell that it was bad. This person didn’t have much time left.
He fell to his knees by their side and tried anyways. Mask pressed his hands against what part of the injury he could. His hands were too small to do much of anything helpful.
“Mask! Legend!” Someone called out.
Legend?
Mask froze only for a moment in his confusion. His confusion quickly melted away into recognition. Hands wrapped around his chest and pulled him away from Legend’s side in a big hug that lifted his feet off the ground.
Mask kicked and screamed, trying to fight back.
“It’s just me, bud!” Warriors said. “Wild’s giving him a potion! He’s helping!”
Warriors presses a comforting hand to the back of Mask’s head, burying his face into his tunic. He stands still in that way he always did when assessing damage after a battle.
Wild’s voice rasped over the thundering rain, “The potion isn’t enough.”
“You don’t have any fairies?” Warriors practically begged.
Silence.
Mask balled his fists up against Warriors’ chest and shoved, forcing the captain to drop him. He forced himself to look at Legend. Wild had tears tracking down his face, but his expression was scarily neutral. Legend had fallen completely still below him.
He was dead. He was dead and it was Mask’s–
A little white bird, undeterred by the rain, fluttered by calmly and landed on Legend’s chest, right by his wounds. It did a little shake, and Legend’s skin and muscle started to weave itself back together with potion magic aided by the little bird. The three of them, Mask, Wild, and Warriors, all briefly felt their tears come to a stop as they watched in confusion.
…Wait. Mask recognized this bird! It was Ravio’s! The little guy–Sheerow, he thinks–fluttered around everywhere Ravio went when they were at Legend’s house. Even during the war, he’d seen her hiding in Ravio’s hood.
Sheerow waited until Legend’s wounds closed and his breath came back to him in even, shallow inhales. It hopped on over to the other side of his chest, reached into his satchel, and pulled the bombchus right out.
Mask’s jaw, again, dropped at the pure audacity. She might have saved Legend, but… The audacity! He narrowed his eye, sitting still before he lunged to grab her. Innocently, she flew just out of his grasp and landed to sit on Legend’s forehead. Mask reared back to try and grab it again.
“Well, that’s rude, isn’t it?”
He stopped. Somehow, Ravio was just here now and apparently didn’t see the problem with his bird being a grave robber. A portal, this one made of different magic than the ones that moved the chain, closed behind him with a low humming noise.
No one said anything. Ravio leaned down and patted Legend’s cheeks with both hands.
“Mr. Hero?” He asked. “Wakey-wakey!”
Legend groaned, blood sputtering between his lips. Ravio tutted and kneeled down beside Wild. He lifted Legend’s head to rest on his legs and tilted a shimmering blue potion between his lips. Legend’s eyelids fluttered.
Mask understood now. Legend tolerated Ravio because he was some sort of demon who could resurrect people without a fairy. It made sense; after all, how else could Legend afford to go on so many adventures?
“How did you open a portal?” Wild broke the silence.
Ravio glanced up, or at least his hood turned upward. It seemed he hadn’t even realized the other heroes were there this whole time. Mask could just barely see a nervous smile under his hood.
“His rental expires if he falls in battle?” He offered unhelpfully. “Usually I find him, give him some field medicine, and lug him home. It almost never takes more than five minutes for him to be out the door again.”
Yup. A demon. Legend made deals with a demon.
“But…” Wild gaped. “How?”
“Sheerow’s a special bird!” Ravio shrugged.
“More importantly, let’s get out of this rain,” Warriors said with a sigh. “It can’t be good for him. Wild?”
“Closest village is a five minute walk.”
Mask tugged Warriors’ scarf and signed, ‘Four and Hyrule are here, too. Unconscious.’
Warriors hummed to himself, scanning over the small group. “Wild, the others were still fighting back the way we came. Take Spirit with you and send the others back here. I want you to scout the path to the village just in case.”
Wild nodded and took off. Warriors moved to pick Legend up, but Ravio waved him off and, with great effort, lifted the veteran into his arms. Sheerow warbled a little song from where she had nestled beneath Legend’s tunic to hide from the rain.
‘Where were you guys?’ Mask signed. He led the way over to Hyrule and Four.
“There was another lynel,” Warriors explained. “It didn’t go down easily. Granted, there were smaller monsters, but it took most of us to bring it down.”
Mask narrowed his eyes and looked away.
“Which comes to my question,” Warriors looked at him, “how did you manage to take down a black blooded lynel all by yourself?”
‘I just did,’ Mask lied. ‘I’ve fought tougher.’
“I know.” He paused. “Did you use the mask?”
If Warriors noticed the way Mask’s shoulders hunched up toward his ears, he didn’t say anything. He only waved the others over and lifted Hyrule into Twilight’s arms. He took Four into his own. The rest of their walk to the village was silent.
–
“These injuries!” Flora exclaimed, cupping Mask’s face in her hands as she looked him over. “Now, I’m no doctor, but I’d wager you have a concussion. Have you taken anything for it yet?”
‘No, ma’am,’ Mask signed.
Flora laughed a little lightheartedly and shook her head. “There’s no need to call me ma’am! Just Zelda is fine. Or- sorry, Wild said you guys came up with nicknames! I believe mine is Flora?”
Mask nodded.
“That’s okay, too. I’m rather fond of his explanation for it!” She cast a glance around the room, then called, “Link!”
Wild appeared by her side in a matter of seconds.
“Do you know if we still have any of those spare kids’ clothes here? I thought we took them all to the school.”
Wild shrugged and made a beeline for the door.
“Don’t go back out in that weather-!” Flora started to call after him. He was already gone.
Mask didn’t quite care. He was peering over her shoulder at Legend, lying on a spare mattress Wild had dug out for him. Ravio sat nearby, waiting patiently.
“I’m going to wash your face,” Flora suddenly warned him, bringing his attention back to her. “You’ll get an infection otherwise.”
Mask usually would have protested, but he could feel Warriors’ eyes on him, so he sat still and let her gently dab at the mud and blood that had started to dry. She gently swiped over his cheek over the wounds left by using the Deity mask. It was just enough pressure to get a wince out of him.
“How did you get these gashes?” Flora asked. “They don’t look like anything that the explosion would have caused.”
He shrugged and lied, ‘Fell out of a portal.’
Flora hummed, but didn’t push it. “Well, you’re in luck. Just about the only things I can make in the kitchen are elixirs.”
She stood and made her way over to her and Wild’s little kitchenette. She dropped the dirty rag in the sink and took a couple bottles out of the Sheikah-tech ice box Spirit was currently fidgeting with.
Flora passed out red elixirs to everyone who needed one. They didn’t usually have the luxury of using potions for minor injuries after fights, and everyone took theirs graciously. Mask held his tightly in both hands, taking small sips of it.
He was only allowed to go sit by Legend after he finished his elixir, properly cleaned up, and changed into fresh clothes. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the clothes Wild provided him with, but it was only temporary while Warriors and Sky did the laundry.
‘You said five minutes,’ Mask immediately accused Ravio.
“...Ah.” Ravio stared at him. “That I did!”
‘It’s been an hour and a half.’ Actually, an hour, thirty seven minutes, and twenty five seconds. He didn’t expect Ravio to care for the minute details.
“That’s right.”
‘Why?’
“I’m not sure,” Ravio admitted. When Mask glared daggers, he quickly held both hands up in a nervous surrender, “But- but I can guess!”
Mask turned his palm upward toward Ravio in a flourishing motion, asking him to elaborate.
“I believe it has something to do with the magic leylines,” Ravio said. “When you all travel across worlds like this, you lose connection with your leylines until you return. Fairies are, of course, consistent in healing life-threatening injuries. Potion magic can cross the gap most of the time. In a case of fatal injuries like his, the leyline connection just isn’t strong enough.”
‘Pretty detailed for a guess.’ Mask narrowed his eye. He decided to not push it. Ravio did still scare him a little bit. ‘Why’d you say five minutes, then?’
“You heroes needed good news!”
‘How about saving him without a fairy?’
“Oh!” Ravio laughs. “Like I said, Sheerow’s pretty special! She has some magic, y’know! And thanks to Link’s reckless nature, I’ve become pretty good at field healing myself!”
‘Is your bird part fairy?’ Mask continued with his rapid-fire questions.
Ravio froze, slowly letting his eyes trail over to the little lump in Legend’s fresh tunic.
“...I have no clue!” Ravio laughed. “I found her as a baby. Where I’m from, there aren’t many fairies at all!”
Not many fairies? Demons and fairies didn’t get along at all because of their strongly opposing magic types. Sheerow’s might have been diluted enough for the two to stand each other. Mask crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
“...Ravio?” Legend grumbled, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “What?”
“Buddy!” Ravio grabbed Legend’s hand in both of his. “You’re awake! You know how worried you had everyone? We were all ready to keel over!”
“Oh, quit it,” Legend half-heartedly shook his hands in a failed attempt to swat him away. “I thought we portaled.”
“You did!”
Legend opened one eye to look at him. “Then how…?”
“I needed my rental back.”
“...You…” Legend heaved a big, tired sigh. “I should have known. I still want the bombchus.”
Mask had started to sign that he had some, but Legend and Ravio weren’t paying attention.
“You basically died and you’re worried about a bunch of dusty old bombchus you didn’t know existed until yesterday?” Ravio scolded him.
“Mask, go grab a purple rupee from my bag, please,” Legend said, waving a dismissive hand at Ravio.
“Renting price is doubled,” Ravio countered and crossed his arms dramatically.
“You can’t do that!” Legend argued. His face twinged, and he put a shaky hand on his chest, but he continued, “You know what, Mask, go grab two purples.”
“Stop worrying about the bombchus,” Ravio huffed. “I can’t believe you sometimes. You’re pushing yourself too far again.”
Legend rolled his eyes and looked away. Mask took the opportunity to go to his own bag, not Legend, and pulled out two purples. He sat back down beside Ravio and dropped the rupees onto Legend’s chest.
“Thank you,” Legend took them. He seemed to have learned his lesson, though, and didn’t immediately offer them to Ravio. “How did the rest of the fight go?”
Mask shrugged. ‘Took care of it.’
“By yourself?”
‘Yeah. Hyrule and Four are okay, too.’
“Nice job, kid.” Legend gave him a shaky smile. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone against it. I didn’t expect it to hit like that.”
‘It’s okay.’ Mask shook his head. ‘Glad you’re okay.’
It was Legend’s turn to give him an odd look. He’d been getting a lot of those tonight.
“You too.” Legend decided not to push him. At least, he wouldn’t right now. “Since we dealt with the monsters, I’m sure we’ll get no time to rest before another portal comes.”
‘Flora said there were a few reports of more,’ Mask signed.
“Thank the Three,” Legend sighed. “We still have to figure out how to get Ravio home.”
“Getting rid of me already!” Ravio gasped, faking offense. “I’m hurt!”
“You’ll be even more hurt when one of Wild’s monsters finds you.”
“The captain can vouch for my efficiency on the battlefield! I play a great supporting role!” Ravio mimicked shooting a bow, then made little popping motions with his fingers to mimic explosions. He made an accompanying, “shh-aaaaaah!!!” noise, which Mask guessed was supposed to be an explosion. There was a sort of nervous hesitation to his words and actions. He never was much of a fighter.
Legend shook his head, an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “What about your shop?”
“...I didn’t lock the door!” Ravio shouted. He quickly shot to his feet. “Do write and rest , Mr. Hero, but I’m afraid I must tend to other matters! Sheerow!”
Sheerow crawled out of Legend’s borrowed tunic and ruffled her feathers. She flew up to sit on Ravio’s shoulder.
“Hey,” Legend offered the rupees out, “bombchus?”
“Right!” Ravio took only one of the rupees. “Pleasure doing business!”
Legend rolled his eyes, but he took the bombchu bag from Ravio.
“It was lovely to see you all again so soon,” Ravio addressed the room in a far less panicked, polite tone. “Miss Princess-Flora-Zelda, your hospitality is greatly appreciated. Adieu!”
There was no extra fanfare. Ravio seemingly opened a portal out of nowhere, stepped inside, and the portal disappeared. The only thing left of Ravio was a little white feather on the ground.
Mask shook Legend’s arm, still gaping at the open air where the portal had been.
‘Are you roommates with a demon?’
Legend grinned, then burst out laughing. He clutched at his wounded side as he gasped for air between laughs. “A demon!”
Mask’s face turned red with his embarrassment. ‘How did he do all that?!’
“He’s got weird magic,” Legend shrugged and wiped a tear away. “I stopped trying to understand it a while ago. Loruleans have a special relationship magic. Ravio’s not dangerous at all.”
“He could be,” Warriors cut in from the other side of the room, “he just hates fighting like nothing else.”
“That too,” Legend agrees. “Trust me, you have nothing to worry about… and, I’ll be more careful in the future.”
He reached over and plucked the feather off the ground. Legend gestured for Mask to give him his hand and set the feather in his palm. Mask closed his hand gently around it with a little nod.