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aikoiya · 24 days ago

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Nonono, it's fine! The issue is less about it making contradictions in the canon timeline & more so that I'd kinda already made my own backstories for the trio & that them having been primordial manifestations (as is implied by EoW) would contradict that.

Like, I've sort of rebuilt Hyrule's pantheon to more so showcase that it's an actual pantheon that actively interacts with each other. And, in doing so, I've kind of injected some Greek & Shinto elements into it. And in those religions, you get a lot more interplay between both the gods & mankind, as well as between the gods themselves.

Like how, in my interpretation, Din is only the red goddess' nickname, her full name is Geladïna & she was the Goddess of the Sand, known to the Gerudo as Vàh Gela (btw, I've been using vah from BotW as a Gerudo title for a goddess), before she was Din the Golden Goddess of Power. And that she created the Gerudo by accident in her garden. Thereby making her the single most important deity in the Gerudo pantheon.

The reason that Din being one of the ones who literally created everything, conflicts with this is because, in my version of events, my Din has a father, mother, & multiple bothers & sisters. Her father even being one of the oldest Immortals on earth & even he hadn't been there at the creation of all things.

She would later go on to marry a different Gerudo deity by the name of Jawàrik, then have a single child withy him by the name of Gàlondo.

The Gerudo would grow & eventually become a kingdom, then an empire in their own right. And the rulers of said kingdom would be hit & miss as leaders. Many being wonderful, some so-so, & others being horrible. (Bytheby, I have it so that the whole only one man thing is the result of a curse that they get much, much later, so at this point, the population is fairly evenly divided between males & females.) Then, during a decently long stretch of time when there was a number of successive bad rulers where the Gerudo were suddenly growing into a very conquer-y sort, there would come an old, weathered man bent with age. He would hobble into the opulent palace of the Gerudo king of the time & he would place a curse not only upon the king, but also the Gerudo's ancestral home. One that was essentially him condemning it to eternal conflict & war. It was, in many ways, a bitter & hateful way of showing them that war is awful as the old man had been just one of the many who had been irrevocably affected by their greed & endless pursuit of power.

And, just as he wished it, the once prosperous kingdom became the subject of constant conflict, which caused them to slowly be reduced until they were left as little more than nomads & vagabonds searching for a new home. Jawàrik was the Gerudo god of war & responsibility, so because his charges were now in eternal war, so too was he in eternal conflict with the war gods of the kingdoms surrounding the Gerudo homeland of Jïasïd. This caused him to become preoccupied & overworked to the point where, despite still deeply loving each other & wishing to make it work, he & Geladïna felt there was no other choice than to divorce before one of them committed an act of unfaithfulness. This caused a lot of stress within the young deity known as Gàlondo.

Now, this all took place long before Demise came into existence, but it was also not too terribly long after the creation of Hyrule.

Eventually, Gàlondo grew into an adolescent & it was learned that one of his domains happened to be war. As a result, he was taken to be raised with his father at his own insistence. However, because his father was always stressed & tired (because, at this point, his war domain was no longer just one aspect of his life, but a cage), it resulted in him not being able to keep as much of an eye on his boy as he liked.

However, he did see that as he grew, his son was changing over time &, in Jawàrik's concern for his son, he would ask if he wished to return to live with his mother. But every time he did, Gàlondo would insist that he wished to remain. So, he did.

Eventually, Gàlondo grew into a man & the greatest honor was bestowed upon him by his mother & surrogate aunts. He was named the patron deity of the Golden Land & the custodian of the Triforce. It was a true honor & he accepted the position with pride.

... But as time passed, the centuries of trauma that he experienced at all he'd seen living in a state of constant war & his inability to adjust to a world where such conflict was minimal, & the utter euphoria of having been given such control where he had none before... It began to change him in the worst ways possible. He became, in many ways, not dissimilar to Zeus in Greek myth & he was always in a continual pursuit of more power, more dominance, just... more.

Eventually, it was not enough to be the king of the gods of the Golden Land or the custodian of the vaunted Triforce. So, one day, he returned to the Divine Oasis in Jïasïd (where the Gerudo pantheon dwelled) & stole a fruit from the Mother Tree of Life (different from the Tree of Life in SS in that the Mother Tree's fruit is more than just a cure-all). For to consume the fruit was to become 10 fold on the outside what you were on the inside & those mortals who reached enlightenment were invited to partake of the fruit. Doing so, they would then live out the rest of their lives & when they'd die, they would be transformed & become Immortals as well.

And Gàlondo thought, "Surely. Surely, one so great & powerful as I will be made even more so by this" & he ate it...

And with each bite, he himself became consumed. For the sweet flesh of the fruit became more & more bitter.

And as he ate, his body mutated into a monstrosity. The healthy bronze of his skin paled unto something sickly & his golden ichor (blood of a god) became a blighted black that pumped thickly through his veins like tar. His fiery mane, once almost gold, now burned red like an inferno.

And so, the Bringer of Demise was born...

... Sorry, I sort of lost myself in the storytelling there.

But, yeah. This is somewhat why the Golden Trio as we know them being the literal creators of the actual world wouldn't really fit all that easily into my personal version of events without some extra context added on my part.

Similarly, my versions of Nayru & Farore also have their own families.

Farore, specifically, is the daughter of the fae goddess, Venuśkra of the realm of the fae (which can only be accessed through the light of the full moon) & Holōmāuroa, the primordial manifestation of the Holorean Ocean (the massive body of water to the direct west of Hyrule, which houses both the Oshus Archipelago & Holodrum). Farore's true name is Freyare, but she honestly doesn't mind being called Farore much.

Venuśkra is actually Venus, the Fairy Queen from aLttP & I'm taking some serious influence from Gaelic & Celtic myth for her & the Fairies in-general, literally the only reason that the Fairies of Hyrule are as... cooperative as they are is partially due to you always playing as either Link or Zelda, partially because whenever we interact with them, it's sort of during a time of conflict, & also because they sort of have this contract with the Hyrulean Royal Family to lend aid during such times. If not for those things, let's just say that there'd be much more instances of behavior reminiscent of more Gaelic fae folktales.

Meanwhile, Holōmāuroa takes a bunch of influence from the Polynesian entity known as Tangaroa & even a bit from Maui. Though, something important to note is that primordial manifestations are very different from gods in that gods are just sort of masters of certain things, while primordials are literally that thing given physical form. As such, primordials are, in many ways, far stronger than gods. Which is why, in many cases, if a primordial needs to be taken down, it takes many gods working together to do so.

And, much like Din, Farore too married & had children of her own. Btw, I'm calling Farore's husband, Hebrogar, & he's a much older god of ice, snow, family, ect. He is much, much more Viking-coded, being the patron deity of the Hebra region & had moved there along with the ancient Hebrans from Calatia, & created the Yeti like Yeta, Yeto, Conde, & his family. And their eldests were a pair of twins named Sheikaku & Karina.

In fact, Holōmāuroa was the one who held Demise down while the first Link stabbed the sucker in the forehead & the gravely injured Hylia sealed him into the spike. He did this by turning into water & holding Demise down with all the force of the ocean. Normally, this wasn't something that was allowed, but A) Holōmāuroa was a manifestation, meaning that he only followed those rules as a curtesy. And B) Demise pissed him the eff off. You see, Demise killed his grandson, who had been Hylia's husband & was the one who protected her from Demise while she forged the Goddess Sword. Though, those in the fandom might know him better as the Fierce Deity. (This is where Shintoism comes in, I've sort of given Hylia, Sheikaku, & Galondo a similar dynamic to the one between Amaterasu, Tsukiyomi, & Susano-o.)

As for why the other deities hadn't helped, they were all still recovering from trying to beat down Demise themselves. As I mentioned before, enough On'nen can even kill the gods & imagine that they were afflicted with something similar to Gloom Sickness, but even more severe.

Anyway, Holōmāuroa had wanted to crush the punk beneath his waves right then, but his family had stopped him wishing to deal with him themselves. But then, the little mf went & killed his granddaughter too, so now, he no longer gave a flying flip about rules or procedure, Demise was going down! (Something that none of them are aware of, the first hero was Sheikaku reborn. See, much like Hylia, at his death, he had dived into Samsara himself so that he might be able to help protect his family even if he would no longer be the same person.)

So, as you can hopefully see, if I weren't to make such a stipulation of my Golden Trio being the Golden Trio who sealed Null beneath the earth by literally creating the planet itself around him, born again in a different time, it would cause a couple of complications.

Mostly because I tend to prefer to leave the canon history as unchanged as I can. Which means that, in order to be able to add new history into my own, I tend to look at the stuff that I don't like in LoZ in less of a "I hate this, I'm not including it in my story" way & more of a "okay, this is very inconvenient for my hcs, so what context can I add to this to make it less so" way.

Which I find helps me to better integrate new history that maybe I don't like so much in a way that makes it so that I like it a lot more.

This extra piece of information with the current Golden Trio being the reincarnations of the Golden Trio who trapped Null is just another example of this tendency. Another was how I was able to integrate HW (despite not being canon) in order to make BotW as a whole make sense for me.

Oh! I keep forgetting! I actually have a timeline that splits off of SS myself that I've called the Outset Timeline! And I even have a sort of parallel SS that takes place to go with it called the War of Dune & Shadow! I noticed a bunch of things that really didn't add up, so I thought of a plausible way to fix it while basically leaving the canon entirely untouched! It was super fun but also a huge brainteaser!

Also, one thing I've forgotten to mention. I actually read about something that explains all those DLC past Zelda game items. It has to do with Shintoism. Simply put, those aren't the actual items from those games. More so, they are replicas of them for the purpose of honoring those past heroes & legends.

I learned this from a Reddit post & just from it, everything regarding why they are in the games suddenly makes infinitely more sense. Which, I find tends to help make me not dislike it quite so much.

Essentially, in Shintoism, Kami aren't just gods. They can also refer to spirits & even phenomenon. Because of this, there are a large number of things that can be considered Kami in Shinto, including the spirits of dead relatives or heroes.

And one way in which such things are venerated is in shrines, where you will find 2 things: yorishiro & shintai.

Here are some basic definitions for these concepts.

Yorishiro (依り代/依代/憑り代/憑代, lit. Approach Substitute) = An object capable of attracting spirits known as Kami, thus giving them a physical space to occupy during religious ceremonies. They are used during ceremonies to call Kami for worship.

Shintai (神体, Body of the Kami) = Once a Yorishiro actually houses a kami, it then becomes a Shintai. They are physical objects worshipped at or near Shinto shrines as repositories where spirits or Kami reside. However, something to keep in mind is that these Shintai aren't actually part of the Kami & are, more so, as mentioned above, just temporary repositories meant to give humans access to them for the purpose of worship.

Interestingly, the most common shintai are actually manmade objects. things like mirrors, swords, jewels, statues, ect. Or even natural objects such as rock mounds, trees, a mountain.

Likewise, there are bunrei, kanjo, & mikoshi, which will help me get to me point.

Bunrei (分霊) = A technical term indicating not only the process of dividing a Kami to be re-enshrined somewhere else, as well as the spirit produced from said division. This process is used to distribute Kami to “child” shrines elsewhere. However, it is important to note that the spirit of the Kami is not decreased by the process & are known to function the same way as the original spirit. It is often compared to using a candle to light another candle. As such, the entities inside the goddess statues likely aren't actually the goddess, but her bunrei, which would make them shinzō (神像, Statue of a God).

Kanjo (勧請) = Term indicating a propagation process in which a Kami or Spirit has been previously divided, is invited to another shrine & is then re-enshrined there.

Mikisho (神酒所) = Temporary shrines. Often used during Matsuri.

Mikoshi (神輿) = Portable versions of Mikisho. Basically, a sacred palanquin. Believes to serve as a vehicle to transport deities while moving between main shrine & temporary shrine during festivals or when moving to a new shrine. Tend to resemble miniature buildings.

Do you remember those strange little pagoda things that housed a bunch of things from past games in TotK? The ones that Misko put there?

Guess what? Those were mikoshi, which suggests that the items you get from those chests weren't actually the items from past games, but more so replicas of them specifically meant to honor those legends & the Heroes that were part of them.

And, do you know what Hidemaro Fujibayashi, who directed TotK studied extensively in college? Shinto & Buddhist literature.

The fact that those items are in such structures indicates that Misko viewed them as sacred & enshrined them for veneration. Which likewise implies that they are shintai, or objects that house the spirits of who owned said objects in the past. However, something to note about shintai is that whether or not those items were the originals or not does not matter. What matters is the spirit housed inside, which will continue to exist even if the object is destroyed. It can also later be invited back into another yorishiro.

In other words, it's entirely possible that while we in the west might see these things from past games being there as disrespectful, those in the east might see it as the exact opposite.

Though, I can certainly understand your frustration with having to do so much more research in order to understand these things that are likely much more ubiquitous in Japanese culture.

I really wish that Nintendo would start to implement a sort of in-game dictionary like Stein's Gate did. See, as the game would progress, people would mention certain things or concepts, however rather than break immersion, the player would be notified that a new word was learned. The player could then go into the in-game dictionary & read the definitions. It could range from certain ideas & concepts that not everyone would understand, both as part of Japanese culture, as well as concepts that are more obscure or part of Sci-Fi culture, scientific theory, ect.

As a result, rather than have the characters explain the meanings in-game to someone who should already know these things & end up making that character look like an idiot or break immersion or even just not explain it at all (similar to what happens in LoZ), it would just be explained in that in-game dictionary. Meaning that the player could just go read about it for themselves. Like, it was basically a metanarrative device so that the players could better keep up with conversations & understand them without needing to have extensively studied basically a little bit of everything. Which, made it very useful & much less of a headache.

So, I just think that this would be a very cool thing that they could've included. Like, in SS, when the scene with Demise cursing Hylia's bloodline & the spirit of the hero came up, to the side, you might've seen the term Rin'ne or Samsara pop up. You would then go into you in-game dictionary & read about the Shinto & Buddhist concepts revolving around the cycle of life, death, & rebirth. Which, would've very much cleared up a bunch of the fandom's confusion regarding what was actually happening regarding the cycle of the games.

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Hmm... Interesting, I never really saw him as such. For one, he is more so called the Bringer of Demise in Japan, which gives more of an idea that he's less an actual manifestation of chaos & more so just some dude who brings it.

True, though I actually think the design with the big antlers would’ve fit with a design for Rauru as a dragon even though he doesn’t become one. I did like how the more ram-like design imitated Zelda’s braids, though. Very cute. At the same time, I’m glad that they went with the horn design they did. Very pretty.

And the SS dragon faces were definitely just uncanny valley all-the-way.

Also, I don’t mind your hc one bit & think it’s interesting. It’s just not something I’m gonna add to my own lore, is all. I’ll be honest, I think that was sort of the greatest misstep that the Zelda games made. Like, really? Really, Nintendo? The water dragon & the sunspot squirrel-monkey thing have the same name? Though, I feel like this issue can be remedied by using Faron, Lanayru, & Eldin for one set, but then using their names from different languages for the other set like I sorta did. Like, I know that Eldin was also called Ordinn in French, Oldin in Italian & Korean (올딘), Orudin (オルディン) in Japanese, & (奧爾汀 or 奥尔汀) in Chinese. Meanwhile, Lanayru is Lanelle in French, Ranelle in German, Ranel in Italian, Lanel (라넬) in Korean, Ranēru (ラネール) in Japanese, & Lānièěr (拉聶爾 or 拉聂尔) in Chinese. And Faron is Firone in French & Italian both, Phirone in German, Pillone (필로네) in Korean, Firōne (フィローネ) in Japanese, & Fèiluóní (費羅尼 or 费罗尼) in Chinese.

Also, good gravy. Evidently, English, Dutch, German, & European Spanish were the only ones consistently kind to these poor dragos & even they weren’t good to Naydra. When I looked at the names they were given in other languages, everything I found was, in one way or another, just “something dragon.”

Like, look at this mess: Dinraal is the name used in English, Dutch, & Russian (Dinral’, Динраль), however it’s Ordrac in French, Eldra in German & Spanish, Elden in European Spanish, Ordra in Italian, Oldeuraegon (올드래곤) in Korean, Orudora (オルドラ) in Japanese, & Àoěrlóng (奧爾龍 or 奥尔龙) in Chinese.

Naydra is the name used in English, Dutch, German, LA Spanish, & Russian (Нейдра), meanwhile it’s Nedrac in French, Nayen in European Spanish, Neldra in Italian, Neldeuraegon (넬드래곤) in Korean, Nerudora (ネルドラ) in Japanese, & Nièěrlóng (聶爾龍 or 聂尔龙) in Chinese.

Farosh is the name used in English, Dutch, & Russian (Фарош), but it’s Rordrac in French, Faren in European Spanish, Farodra in German & LA Spanish, Firodra in Italian, Pillodeuraegon (필로드래곤) in Korean, Furodora (フロドラ) in Japanese, & Fèiluólóng (費羅龍 or 费罗龙) in Chinese.

It’s all just one way or another to say dragon.

So, if you go at this from that perspective, then most of the translations (even in Japanese) all are basically just “Eldin/Faron/Lanayru dragon” & it’s likely that that’s all they ever were. Like, that’s it, so if I were the one to think up the lore behind all this, I'd just say that Dinraal, Farosh, & Naydra aren't even their real names, because wtf Nintendo? And, might even use that to my advantage if I… ya know, just so happened to be rewriting an entire game's story. I mean, if they’re gonna put forth such a non-effort, they can't really blame the fans for taking advantage of it, now can they?

As such, you could quite believably just say that those were names that Hyruleans gave them. Because, then you could very easily just have the dragons look at Link funny when he uses those names, then correct him. Like, “??? Oh! Hmhmhm! My apologies, I suppose it has been a long time, hasn’t it? And when such a long stretch occurs, mortals tend to experiment with names.” Then introduce themselves. It’s a very easy way to keep to the lore while also giving them their own names.

Heck, you could even have it so that they were, like, corrupted or something, which might explain their change in appearance, & Link has to save them.

And don’t we all have that tendency? Of seeing what we want to see? Also, to be fair, Avatar the Last Airbender likely doesn’t make it any easier. Waterbenders bend ice, too. Though, interestingly, the waterbenders of the swamp didn’t bend ice despite also being waterbenders. But then again, their environment was very different &, in fact, one of them was able to bend the water in plants. So, ya know. Maybe it’s less about hard boundaries & more so about changing one’s perspective so that you realize that there are fewer boundaries than you think?

Oooo! Yeah, good idea. Sorry, charcoaldustonmyfingers. I should've asked.

Mmm… I mean, I’m pretty sure that the SS dragons were just appointed those positions by Hylia, right? If not, then they might not even need to match the deities they’re named after. Like, I admit, it is really nice when things fit together all nice & neat. But, even then, Farore wasn’t really associated with lightning until recently. Before, her elements were always plantlife & wind, not lightning. Also, I’m pretty sure Valoo, the spirit of the skies, was the one who was the representative of Din in Wind Waker, yet Din is typically more associated with either fire or earth.

So, I guess it just doesn’t seem like much of an issue to me because, yes the dragons themselves are obviously being used as representatives of the goddesses, but why would they all need to be the exact same element as the goddesses when that was never really a problem before? And, if you think about it, that sort of makes sense because it would suggest that these entities existed before they were given their roles & might’ve been chosen not for being literally made for those roles, but because they were considered the best people for those positions.

Then again, I have a tendency to think about these things from less of a game perspective & more from a “okay, this is real life for these people, so treat it like it’s real life.” Then, I think about what a real life explanation for this inconsistency would be. And when I do that, I just think that IRL, people typically aren’t selected for job positions based on whether or not they have such & such in common with their employer. They’re chosen because they fit the role on an individual level.

Maybe the Lanayru & Faron just resonated more with Nayru & Farore respectively? Maybe they had personal connections to the goddesses as individuals? As in, what if Lanayru wasn’t all that close to Farore, but was a good friend of Nayru? If so, then he’d naturally gravitate more towards wishing to help her with her region. Or, for all we know, they may have already been living in these places before they were chosen. If so, would you really ask Lanayru & Faron to switch places just because they don’t fit the motif of their deity’s names?

Of course, these are just suggestions & my attempts to help. My apologies if it seems like I’m trying to push things too much or anything. I just tend to personally find that when I’m having trouble with something, the thing that helps me most isn’t so much trying to fit things to what I expect & more so adjusting my own thinking so that I look at things from a different perspective.

I actually tend to see Rhoam's perspective as him thinking her magic worked more along the lines of a DnD Cleric which relies more on faith & dedication to one's patron. But, I think that both he & most likely a number of elders & actual Clerics, might sometimes forget that it isn't as simple as Zelda was gifted that power. Because she wasn't. This magic was in her blood, so it would just innately work differently from how the magic of a Cleric would because the magic that Clerics use aren't theirs to begin with.

In contrast, Zelda's magic isn't on loan the way that a Cleric's would be. Instead, it's hers by birthright making her much more analogous to a DnD Divine Soul Sorceress. As such, I tend to think of it more in terms of her not simply needing love to unlock it, but more so that she needs to look inward & not doubt herself as much.

Similarly, I interpreted her sudden burst of magic as less "oh, she unlocked it with the power of romantic love" & more so that she unlocked it because someone she loved dearly was just shot down in front of her. And, in my mind, magic that is your own is as much a part of you as your hands & feet & head. It's not something that is separate from you. And, what do you do when you're loved ones are in danger? You get a surge of adrenaline, your brain goes into fight or flight mode, & you just sort of do things. In such situations, you don't really think because there's no time to.

In a lot of ways, in that moment, she was sort of running on autopilot & after that first time, due to her being a very smart individual who seems to learn very quickly, I think that Zelda was able to now go, 'oh, so this is how it feels' & was somewhat able to figure things out from there because now she had a reference point.

To me, I think that she'd have reacted in an extremely similar way had she been there to see her father die too. (As much of a ZeLink fangirl as I am, there's really only so far I'm willing to stretch my suspension of disbelief for the sake of the power of love trope. Like, I can believe that it triggered things, but don't just make it romance-based.)

Similarly, I tend to think that part of the problem might've been that she sort of didn't see her magic as actually being part of her & our mental states can have a lot of effect on us, whether we realize it or not. And, another might've been, what another fan brought up once that I very much agree with. That being that, much like Link, Zelda might've been such a natural at things (for her, it was the sciences) that she never really learned the scientific method or even how to learn.

Because whenever I see her thinking more inward regarding these things in her BotW cutscenes, she doesn't ask 'okay, why didn't this work & how can I do better next time' & instead, 'why am I a failure?' Which also leads into another thing that I believe might've contributed to her issue. She is just, by nature, a very secular thinker. She needs things to make sense &, at least to her, maybe her magic just... didn't? Perhaps that was a small part of why she gravitated so much towards the Sheikah technology & then later the Zonai technology? Maybe it framed magic in a way that she found made sense to her?

But, (can't remember if I used this particular simile yet) in my mind, the Sheikah & Zonai tech were magic in the same way that canned string cheese is cheese.

It isn't. Or more specifically, it's only about 50% cheese with the rest of it being... like... emulsifiers, preservatives, & all sorts of other crap that just gives it this terrible, artificial feel.

Similarly, I see the magic used to power Sheikah & Zonai tech as having been heavily processed & basically reduced to electricity in a lot of ways. After which, it is basically twisted & forced through a mechanical frame. Which leaved the center of attention to be the machine itself.

For me, I would've enjoyed the technology more if it went a more... Magical clockwork. Like how Dampe did it in EoW, but not quite. It's definitely closer to what I'm craving, but still not quite there.

For instance, I'd like to include more runes & gemstones, but that's just me because I feel like it would integrate magic a bit more into it rather than just using it as an energy source.

As for the women of the royal family all having the gift of Hylia making it not seem as special, not necessarily. Much like you, I tend to see Hylia as reincarnating too, but not necessarily because she made Link reincarnate. I more so go about it, like you noted, as everyone is reincarnating. And, to me, when Hylia entered the reincarnation cycle, she was essentially giving up on being Hylia ever again. Because, from how I understand Buddhist theology, you can’t escape the cycle unless you reach enlightenment/let go of all earthly attachments &, as much as I love Hylia & especially Sun, she was the last person I would call unbound from earthly attachments. As such, to me, it mattered little that she was a goddess at one point. As such, she is every bit as much a part of the cycle as everyone else.

However, I tend to see magic as originating from a number of different sources. In my mind, the divine magic of the royal family is inherited, but how it takes shape & how strong is based on the individual & whether or not their soul is in alignment with the magic present within their blood. Meaning that, yes, the women of the royal family all have divine power inherited from Sun, but it’s only Hylia’s reincarnations that have the ability to use it at its fullest potential. Things like manifesting bows of light (TP) & sealing demons away for a hundred years (BotW). Interestingly, I’m actually of the opinion that the Zeldas didn’t even get their gift of visions from Sun. Because it wasn’t Sun who had the gift of prophecy. Rather, Sky did.

And I completely agree on the sentiment about the queens not leaving users manuals or whatever. That very much is stupid… but then again, wasn’t that what Terrako was, in a sense?

I wouldn’t say harsh. If you don’t find it interesting then you don’t find it interesting. Though, I admit that I’m very curious as to what all exactly it is that you found uninteresting about it. Of course, it might be a good idea to just go to my blog & send and ask with a full-blown rant because as fun as this has been, you make a very good observation about scrolling! XD

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And going over all the critique regarding the game, fair. Like, I absolutely get it & I'd sooner punch myself in the teeth than try to tell you how to enjoy the games.

So, if you don't like TotK's story, then that's your right.

... Though, I do hope that you'll keep a couple aspects of the game intact. Things like Maddison & the touching scene with her dad Zelda & Link being teachers in Hateno. And the thing with the 7 Heroines & the Eighth turning out to have been a foreign voe. All that really cute & cool interesting stuff.

Even how Aaqlet & Perda go to Gerudo Town & Wabbin misses them so much that he tries to enter in order to visit, but he isn't even given the chance to explain & it immediately thrown in jail. And even a couple of the Gerudo in the cantina come to this conclusion, but never mention it.

Like, don't get me wrong. Those things are absolutely awful, but they are also an incredible opportunity for conflict where it could be used to force the Gerudo to confront the fact that just because something is tradition, it doesn't mean that it's good for you, your culture, or anyone else. And that, if it isn't then it may be time to cut that custom out like a cancer. Or, if not that, then to change it.

And, one way that this could be done is through a combination of Link being allowed into Gerudo Town on the chief's insistence, him helping to protect the town, then him helping Rotana discover the orbs, then learning that the Eighth was not only real, but a foreign voe. That it was only due to his aid that the 7 were able to work together in order to overcome the threat at that time. But even more than that, how the very same tradition that has broken both Wabbin & Hudson's families' apart resulted in the Eighth being turned away & his story buried, & the shame that the 7 felt as a result of it. Such shame that they left altars in an attempt to find some way to thank him.

Like, if nothing else, I think that this would turn the Gerudo's world upside down. And it would bring into stark reality how not okay this tradition is. Because I think one of the only reasons that it was able to last so long was specifically because of how it isolated the girls so much. Like, for them, this was just how life was. And, I'm not sure that a lot of fans understand how very extremely bad such a tradition is for the mental development of children. And, in a lot of ways, it could've even been a major contributor to how Ganondorf always ends up as bad as he does.

Because, think about it.

For the vai, imagine never seeing a single member of the opposite sex until you were 18. Imagine that. Like, a lot of fans will counter that with "oh, I was raised in a house with only my sex & I turned out fine," but they seem to forget that this isn't what's happening with these vai.

They aren't just living in a house with only other females. They're living in an entire town with only other females... So, think back to growing up & think about how often you talked to & interacted with the opposite sex. Whether as teachers, peers, just some guys you pass on the street. Now imagine all of those people gone.

That's what's happening.

Now, for Ganondorf. Instead, imagine never seeing another of your own sex until 18.

For girls, imagine being the only girl in an entire town of men. Imagine not having any female friends or teachers. Imagine not ever seeing any other female at all. And, because all you have are guys around you & those guys hadn't grown up around girls, they don't know how to teach you about what it means to be a woman or about women's health or anything.

Haunting, isn't it? Isolating even.

Personally, I think it would be a very unique kind of hell.

And that's essentially the sort of life that Ganondorf almost always was raised into.

And it's also why it isn't as simple as Ganondorf being the incarnation of Demise's hatred. I say this because I tend to think that just because he is, that isn't all that he is. If he were, then he would not be a person, because people are so much more than just hatred. Literally, our very bodies ensure this fact.

Sure, I absolutely think that Demise is able to influence Ganondorf to a degree, but at the end of the day, I think it is ultimately Ganondorf's choice to do these things.

This is further supported by how these sorts of curses actually work in Japanese lore. By this I mean that just by nature of how the sort of curse that Demise placed works, that curse is a double-edged sword. Because now Ganondorf is mortal & human. Which means that he can be taught. He can change. He can grow. He can weep. He can mourn. He can feel joy. He can live.

Furthermore, in Japanese lore, it is entirely possible to end such a cycle.

And do you know how?

By Ganondorf letting his hatred go. And when he does, he might finally be able to live. Which he couldn't do if he were truly nothing more than Demise's hatred.

In other words, because of the Demise backstory, he now literally has a redemption arc built in & ready to go. Doesn't mean that it'll ever happen, but it means that it's possible.

So, yeah. There's more to the whole Demise thing than what we think.

Similarly, I definitely get that. It's true that it's very possible that MC locations are just easter eggs. I mean, there's Mabe village & Goponga & all that stuff despite Koholint having been part of a dream. Though, to be fair, many dreams are constructed from memories, hm?

As for the confusion with the 2 versions of the Zonai, it could be waved off by approximating it to how certain details in history IRL can get mixed up.

---

Oh my gosh, SAME!! I mean, my brother plays the games too, but he isn't as... obsessed as I am. So, any chance I get to ramble is a chance that I am 99% likely to make!

I will say that I'm finding this story of yours very interesting. Though, personally, I've been portraying the Mogma with more of a New York Italian mafia vibe. The reason being that that was sort of the feel that I got from them in the version we got over here in America. As such, I've been injecting a bunch of actual Italian & even some New York Jewish into their culture. Even going so far as to neologue a new word: Felicidonata. Meaning "gifted joy" or something to that effect. It's sort of supposed to be a reference to how the Mogma in SS were treasure hunters, but in spite of going through so much in order to obtain this stuff (which initially makes them seem greedy), they also had this strange generous streak. If you look back, even though they're very timid, they also very frequently put themselves into harm's way, which contradicts the idea of them just being cowards & more so suggests that they just aren't good at hiding their fear the way that some are. And then, after all of that, they just... give the treasure they just found to you???

Because of this, I've sort of made altruistic generosity, vicarious joy, & gift-giving something like a cultural thing for them in that gift-giving is their love language as a people.

Similarly, I've also given them a bit of a "we take care of our own" sort of mentality in that, if you're a friend of someone in the family, then you're deemed friend-shaped & thus are subject to this as well.

It's been fun & I've also liked making up a more diverse ecology for the Depths. I'm happy for the Rocktato, though. I feel like it would grow well down there.

Seriously, don't ask about how obsessed I am with making up new ingredients. I have 2 different posts with lists of ingredients on them. Divided into Flora/Fungi & Fauna/Byproducts.

Still have to think up animals for down there, though...

Hi, sorry if this is a bit rude. 😅 I guess that I was just wondering. How would Jabul Waters, Zora Cove, & Crossflows Plaza be named in French?

I'm trying to give Jabul Waters an interesting name that works to go with my hc & I came up with "Jabuleaux." And Google Translate tells me that Crossflows Plaza would be Place des Flux Croisés. And, I'm seeing that Anse is the term to refer to a cove &, if that's true, then would Zora Cove be Zoranse? At the same time, somewhere else, it said that Anse actually means beach.

And, I believe that a town by a swamp would have cher, quier, bren, brin, or Hor- in it?

I'm sorry if this is weird... 😅

Hi! Don't worry it's not rude or weird at all! I offered to help and I'm happy to do so :D

Did you check the official French translations? I had a surprisingly hard time finding the French version of the map online so here's a screenshot I took myself:

Jabul Waters = Eaux de Jabule (this one only appears when I zoom out)

Zora Cove = Baie Zora

Crossflows Plaza = Place de l'Estuaire

In case you didn't know the Zelda Wiki often lists names for places or characters in various languages in the "Nomenclature" section of its pages. It's very helpful especially if you're searching for the original Japanese names. If we look at at the different names for Crossflows Plaza we can see that a literal translation from Japanese would be something like "Exchanging Place". I checked the Jisho dictionary and it seems to be an accurate translation, though "Place for Cultural Exchanges" would be more meaningful.

It's not exactly a good name in English so it makes sense that the localization team would come up with something like Crossflows Plaza instead, which in my opinion does a very good job of stating that this is both the place where the river meets the sea and where the two Zora tribes traditionally meet each other.

Other European languages all settled for variations of "Estuary Plaza" ("Place de l'Estuaire" in French), which is fine but looses the "cultural exchanges" aspect of both the original name and the English translation.

I've been trying to come up with a French translation of "Crossflows Plaza" but it's not that easy. To me "Place des Flots Croisés" or "Place Flots-Croisés" would sound better than "Place des Flux Croisés", but I still find it a bit weird ("flot" meaning flow, tide or stream). "La Croisée des Flots" is another option if you agree to get rid of Plaza/Place (it means "the intersection/junction of streams"), but I don't think it works very well as a name.

You could also mix words to create a name the same way it was done in English, something like "Place Croiseaux" (croiser/cross + eau/waters). If any of my French speaking followers is feeling inspired, please share your ideas! :)

(I just thought of "Place Cruciflot" and found it too funny not to mention 😆 maybe it sounds too much like crucifix)

In French we also have the word "confluence" that has the exact same meaning as it does in English: either the meeting of two rivers or a gathering of some kind. So to me the most obvious translation would be something like "Place des Confluences" or maybe "Place Confluence", as it would preserve the dual meaning, but it's not very fancy or creative. Maybe we could simply change the spelling to something like Place Konfluans, the same way "Village Côtier" (Seaside Village) is spelled "Village Kothié" (Seesyde Village). But it doesn't look like a French word anymore so I'm not sure that's something you'd like.

As for Jabuleaux, it can work but I prefer the official translation "Eaux de Jabule". Same thing for Zoranse, we would say "Anse Zora" or "Anse des Zora". The official French translation is "Baie Zora" (Zora Bay), which I think is more appropriate given the size of the sea inlet (in my understanding an anse/cove is a small baie/bay and isn't very deep). I think maybe it should have been bay in English as well instead of cove, but I might be wrong! Also I believe "anse" isn't used as often as "baie" and might be confusing for most people, so I would go with "Baie Zora".

I'm not sure where you found this information about swamps and town names? I didn't find anything to confirm it but I might not have looked in the right places.

French towns are often ancient and their names can derive from other languages such as Celtic, Occitan, Flemish, or regional dialects, so that's a very difficult question and I'm not sure I can give you a satisfying answer ^^

I still did a little search and found an Old French word for swamp, "palud" or "palu", that still appears in some town names such as La Palud-sur-Verdon, Saint-Pierre-la-Palud, Lapalud, etc. (today we say "marais" or "marécage"). You might be right about "bren", it could be something like muddy in Gallic.

There's also "vign" or "mign" (from Celtic), as in Mignéville or Lévignac, or l'Île de Migneaux on the Seine river (this one's in my city!).

Near where I grew up is a town named Hazebrouck, it literally means "hare swamp" (brouck/broek = swamp in Flemish). For a bit more French flavor you could maybe use -broucq or -breucq instead of -brouck.

I think the vast majority of French people have no clue about all of that (I didn't except for the last one and it's more Flemish than French), so I'd say don't oversweat it ;)

And that's all! I hope you'll find this helpful ^^

#aikoiya #loz #zelda #zelda lore #zelda theory

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somediyprojects · 4 years ago

Photo

Bitter Withy Sampler album cover spotted in a charity shop in Edinburgh, Scotland.

#cross stitch #inspo #x #misc

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dinfeanoriel · 5 years ago

Text

Dusk Falls

I am back! I’ve been gone for a long time so I decided to make up for it by writing this lengthy fic! It is the longest I have written on Tumblr. Hope you guys enjoy!

~~~~

It all happened in a muddled blur. The past couple of days nothing more than a hazy memory for him. Time had difficulty recalling what exactly had gone down to lead up to this point.

“Stay with me, Old Man!”

Time had seen him with his very eye. Vibrant and healthy. His complexion not at all pale. His cerulean eyes, so alive and full of emotion. There was worry, fear, anguish, and pain.

There was no sign of injury or illness.

No hint of poison or gradual decline in fitness.

Nothing.

“Take it, Old Man! I won’t allow you to die on me!”

He’d sounded so earnest. So heartfelt and passionate. The fire that blazed within him only grew brighter and more difficult to ignore. It was what drew the others to him.

His confidence. His assurance and unwavering faith. They turned to him for guidance.

The Hero had given him their last Red Potion. Time had been foolish to drink it. He realized this now.

His heart was heavy and his eyes stung as bitter regret and agonized grief clutched him tightly within its grasp.

How had he not noticed?

~~~~

“Do you have to wear all this armor, Pops?” He griped, Time’s arm limply draped over his strong shoulders, his own wrapped securely around Time’s waist as he forced the Leader to walk, “You weigh a ton!” His jab was weak at best. A futile effort to lighten the tense atmosphere and hide the fear reflected in his tone.

He was scared for Time.

Terrified he would lose him.

~~~~

Perhaps there had been signs, and he hadn’t seen them. There was a chance he’d been oblivious to them. To the agony in those eyes and the facade the Hero had thrown up to keep him from growing suspicious.

Of course, the blood loss Time had suffered prevented him from thinking clearly. From noting the tender manner in which the Hero had moved. The way the other’s arm would shoot to his side and his hand would press firmly against it, a wince crossing his strained features.

Time had known his companion had been hit. Neither of them had escaped unscathed.

But he’d trusted in the Hero’s promise that he had already taken care of his own hurts.

A mistake he should never have made.

~~~~

“I need you to stay conscious, alright? Just listen to my voice and don’t you dare close your eyes!”

Time was mercilessly shaken, and a sharp gasp was torn from him.

“I know, I know, sorry,” The other grimly apologized, a hint of remorse in his tone, “But I can’t risk you falling asleep.”

Time would have made a smart remark, but found himself unable to. The white-hot fire that raced through his veins and burned him so viciously stole his very breath away.

The Red Potion had only done so much.

“The others- they need you. You can’t give up on them, do you hear me? Think of Twilight and Wild. What will happen to them if you go?”

Time’s eye fluttered. His boys. Twilight and Wild...Sky, Legend, Wind, Four, Hyrule, and Warrior.

Fear and worry briefly overcame the pain that swallowed him whole.Yes, what would become of them if he were to fall here and now?

But, his companion was wrong.

Time didn’t only care for Twilight and Wild. He cared for them all. He viewed them as children he needed to protect and watch over. Little ones that looked to him for guidance, support, and encouragement- who turned to him for stability and clung to his unwavering presence.

He was the foundation they built themselves off of in their little group.

“Come on. A few more steps,” The other encouraged. Time forced himself to move- to lighten some of the burden, but the arduous task was growing more difficult. His movements were gradually growing more sluggish and clunky. “You have to stay with me, Time!”

Please!

There were tears in his voice, no longer strong and brave but a strained and wretched whisper.

“You can’t die on me! Not like my Pops did!” He choked, a sob caught in his throat. He was growing desperate and afraid.

Sorely afraid.

The words struck a chord in Time’s heart. It fed the fire of determination that had been nothing more than embers waiting to be stoked within him.

He felt his body trembling, but it wasn’t from exertion or his life-threatening injuries.

“I won’t let you! I refuse to let you! Do you hear me, Old Man?!”

The shout echoed down the dismal corridor of the dungeon, bouncing off the stone walls and back at them.

~~~~

Yes, Time had heard him. His every word. It had helped keep him conscious. They had reigned him in and kept him anchored on this side of the veil.

The smile he’d been graced with when Time had raised his head and looked to him. It was shaky and frail, but still a smile.

Time knew then and there, that he couldn’t leave him.

~~~~

“They’ve found us!”

Dread coiled in the pit of Time’s stomach at the harsh whisper. A nauseating and sickening feeling of horror and concern. He knew exactly who “they” were.

“Go...” He murmured hoarsely, his throat gritty. He was nothing more than a burden. He was slowing them down. He wasn’t fit to fight- to protect. Both knew this.

The younger Hero looked to him in shock and incensed despair.

“Have you lost your mind?!” The Hero snatched at Time’s tunic, digging his fingers into the fabric and shaking him slightly in fury, “I am not leaving you, Time!”

Time wanted to argue with him. He wanted to convince him to leave. To save himself from their impending doom. To spare him from what he knew was to come.

He should have known better.

“You’re going to live! You’re going to make it out of this alive!”

Time didn’t know why, but he knew his companion spoke the truth. His cerulean eyes glinted in the little light leaking into the dreary and decaying dungeons. The blazing look of resoluteness and courage could not be mistaken.

Exhaustion and weariness seeped deep into his bones. Time was robbed of his strength and all he could do was slump back against the wall as the Hero gently set him down and reclined him against it.

The coolness of the stone momentarily distracted him from his pain.

“I’ll be back,” The golden-blonde Hero promised, unwrapping his beloved blue scarf from around his neck and tucking it around Time. The silken fabric provided him with some warmth in contrast to the cold hanging thickly in the air.

The tension and apprehension lingering in the air heightened. A sense of foreboding overcame him and alarm trickled down Time’s spine when he recognized the resignation the Hero carefully hid.

“War-” He attempted to say, yearning to dissuade the other from confronting their enemies when both of them were unfit to fight them off. He was interrupted by a cough, his vocal chords screeching from their use.

A strong hand gripped his shoulder and he was met by another grim smile.

“Even if I don’t return, the others will find you.”

Time weakly shook his head. He wanted to tell him to flee. To run. But he knew the Knight would not listen.

Swallowing thickly, blinking back his own emotions, Warrior stood and forced himself to go. He steeled himself, exhaling a deep, shaky, breath to calm his nerves and regain his bearings.

“No!” Time lurched forward, hand outstretched, only to stop short and crumple into an undignified heap on the ground. Excruciating pain lanced through his screaming body, “Warrior...!” He rasped- pleading and fearful- unable to speak louder than an anguished whisper. “Don’t...”

It was too late.

Warrior was already gone.

And Time was helpless to do anything.

He hated it.

So. Very. Much!

“Warrior...” He breathed, clenching his fist and shaking terribly. His whole body cried for relief, but Time knew better than to give in.

Why couldn’t he protect those he cared for?

Why was he always the one left behind?

~~~~

Time hadn’t known how much time had passed. It might have been mere seconds, mere minutes, or neither. To Time, it was an eternity of waiting in agony. The sense of unknowing.

Warrior knew. He knew all of the possibilities. Of what could become of him.

It did not frighten him. He never gave it much thought.

He’d always known the dangers of warfare and battle. Of the potential outcomes. As a knight, he’d become well-acquainted with the dangers that accompanied combat and fighting. He knew that each and every battle he was involved in could end with him being mortally wounded or dead.

Time waited.

And waited.

The light seeping through the cracks and holes in the crumbling walls encasing him slowly darkened as dusk fell.

He could hear the distant sounds of metal screeching against metal. The shrieks and wails of those being ruthlessly slaughtered.

Warrior’s yells and battle cries mingled with the sounds. Time’s heart thundered, pulsing in his ears and threatening to burst from his chest. The anticipation, harrowing fear, and panic...

It was too much for him to handle..!

He tried to drag himself upright so he could peer around the corner and see for himself that Warrior was safe and sound.

He was living his worst nightmare and Time feared what the ending might be.

Why did he have to be crippled and useless when Warrior needed him the most?

His gaze slid to Warrior’s pack. The Knight had left it there.

Time knew he had done so for a reason. Warrior was Captain of the Guard. He was not foolish. He was thorough, clever, and thoughtful. For Warrior to have left his pack...

He had done so on purpose.

Time’s vision blurred. His head was becoming lighter, his body faint. Numbness was beginning to spread, and he knew these were grave signs.

He shook his head, blinking owlishly to rid himself of the strange tingling sensation spreading through him.

He forced himself to move. Stubbornly ignoring how his body protested acutely to him dragging himself to Warrior’s pack, he extended his shaking hand and grasped pathetically at the bag.

He finally managed to hook a couple fingers beneath the strap and tugged. Once it was close enough, he curled an arm around it and pulled it close. Flicking the flap open, Time blearily dug through the items Warrior had organized within.

That was when he struck something solid and made of glass.

A bottle.

Time didn’t know what impressed him to grab it, but he did. He pulled the bottle out and looked-

And cursed Warrior.

It was a fairy.

The only fairy left.

Warrior had told him they had no potions or fairies left.

Why would he have lied?

And then it hit him like a sledgehammer.

Time’s world screeched to a halt, and he slammed into a metaphorical wall.

Warrior didn’t believe he would live.

And he’d sworn to Time that the elder Hero would make it out alive.

He’d lied on purpose.

He’d left his pack for Time. He’d saved the fairy. For Time. He’d known it would come to this.

Time’s eye burned. Conflicting emotions swelled within him. Anger, disbelief, denial...

Warrior had sacrificed himself, knowing the odds were stacked against him, to ensure Time’s survival.

“You foolish soldier!” Time hissed venomously, spitting out the word ‘soldier.’ A fire burst to life within him, burning as rage built within him, overshadowing the agony crippling him.

Warrior knew what was important. He knew what mattered. His life compared to Time’s was meaningless. He was expendable. The Links needed Time to stand against Dark Link and to save their homes. Time was their leader. Warrior was a soldier- a Knight- who was willing to die for him in order to secure their success.

Time released a shaky breath, clutching the bottle tightly.

If those creatures didn’t kill Warrior, he would!

“You self-sacrificing idiot!” Time harshly whispered, mustering his strength and unscrewing the fairy, “Why do you think we have lived this long? Who do you think has ensured our survival this whole time? Who do we turn to for strategies and guidance through battles and conflicts?”

Without Warrior...

The Heroes would be severely weakened and broken.

Yes, Time could lead them. Yes, he could fire tactic after tactic, order after order, but he wasn’t an expert. Warrior was.

And the Heroes would be nothing without him. It would never be the same. Warrior was as much a part of them as they were to him.

They were closely knit- an unbreakable bond tying them together.

The fairy was soon set free and encircled Time three times, healing his wounds and sealing the worst so they were nothing more than scabs that would later turn into scars.

Time felt his strength return. His body no longer felt incredibly light and the dazed sensation was gone.

The Old Man gathered himself to his feet, Warrior’s pack slung over his shoulder, and sword gripped tightly in his hand. There was a fierce expression fixed on his face, replacing his typically stern and neutral visage. His eye blazed.

Although his wounds were not completely healed, and some still bled, Time’s strength and vigor was not to be undermined.

He was seething deep within.

Once he found Warrior and they escaped this horrid place, the two of them would be taking a seat and having a long and lengthy chat.

~~~~

The Leader needn’t have looked far for Warrior. He’d barely moved three meters when the Knight came careening around a corner and smacked into him.

The sound the impact of Warrior’s head connecting with Time’s golden armor resonated through the air as the Captain staggered back with a pained grimace, a hand flying up to his forehead.

“Ow-what-?!” He flailed wildly when Time’s hand shot out and wrested a handful of his tunic, yanking him close. The older Hero leaned down, growling out,

“You and I will be having words, young man,”

Warrior shuddered with a gulp. Good, Time thought to himself, he should be afraid. Incurring his wrath was never a pretty or wise thing to do. It was after he’d released Warrior that Time noticed the paleness of his skin and the glazed look of his eyes.

His stern demeanor softened, worry replacing his previous ire.

“How badly are you hurt?” He demanded to know, but Warrior brushed him off, urgent and jittery.

“There’s no time! We have to go- now!” He breezed past Time, yanking the Old Man behind him until Time recovered himself and matched his pace.

“What is it?”

“Those traitors called for backup,” Warrior breathlessly informed him, sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him, “I don’t know what’s coming, but I know it can’t be good!”

Time’s eye narrowed, “Then we need to leave this place as soon as possible.”

Warrior nodded with a wince. His teeth were grit together, his eyes full of pain.

Time would have asked what ailed him, but never had the chance to.

An explosion from behind wrenched the ground beneath their feet and sent them flying from the force of the blast.

Time heard Warrior’s agonized cry. His heart withered and died at the sound, his very soul shuddering as his fear skyrocketed. The Old Man was sent crashing into a wall and crumpled onto the ground with a grunt.

Dust and debris polluted the air, filling Time’s lungs when he could finally inhale and inducing a painful coughing fit. The deafening sound of heavy objects falling and the walls collapsing were all Time could hear and he threw his arms up above his head to protect it from the rubble crashing all around him.

The old, decomposing dungeon released a deep, guttural, groan as it shuddered and quaked violently.

Time winced when a large boulder-sized rock burst into pieces near him. That had been too close for comfort.

Darkness encased him, swallowing him whole.

After what felt to be an eternity, the quivering building settled and the world grew still and silent.

He waited for the dust to clear the air before he risked moving.

Slowly, carefully, Time drew himself to his hands and knees, doing his best to see through the darkness.

It was impossible.

But there was a fear that gripped him in an unrelenting grasp, very nearly stealing his breath away. His chest constricted and his heart felt ready to burst from the anticipation and cold tendrils of terror that curled around it, squeezing viciously.

“Warrior..?” He called softly, his voice wavering in uncertainty.

His eyes darted about uselessly, scouring the impenetrable darkness.

“Warrior!” He tried again, earnest and searching.

Nothing.

Trepidation and paralyzing dread slowly began to take over him.

“Warrior!”

Silence sang its song.

“Link!” He cried hoarsely, inwardly pleading for the Knight to answer him- to let him know somehow, someway, that he was alive.

He could not lose him! No.Time would not allow him to die! Not on his watch!

Warrior wasn’t supposed to die before him! They were supposed to outlive him! They were supposed to return to their homes, triumphant and safe. Back to their loved ones.

A wet cough that did not bode well for Time pierced the agonizing quiet atmosphere.

“...Old...Man..?”

By the Goddess...He sound so frail and weak.

“Link, where are you?” Time demanded to know, snapping his head in the direction he thought Warrior’s voice had come from.

“I...” Warrior tried, wheezing in a sickeningly frail manner, “I...don’t know...Can’t tell...S’all dark...” He slurred.

Time’s heart pounded madly against his chest. He willed himself to remain calm and poured all of his effort in keeping his voice steady,

“It’s alright, Link,” He soothed the ailing Knight, “Just keep talking and I’ll come find you.”

He was so very afraid. Terrified of what he might find.

What condition would the Knight be in? Was he crushed beneath the rocks and debris? Had a wall collapsed on him? Was he bleeding out?

“Link?” He questioned, fighting to keep his voice steady when Warrior didn’t respond.

“Still here...” Came the quiet reply. “Old Man...We...We have to find...a way out.”

“I know we do,” Time murmured, his voice carrying over to where the Knight lay, “Are you able to move?”

He heard a shuffling sound as Warrior shifted.

A pained wheeze pierce the air and Time felt something pierce his very heart. There was a faint rattling noise that accompanied Warrior’s every breath.

Never had Time felt true fear until then.

Just how badly was Warrior hurt?

“Link, I want you to be honest with me, do you understand?”

“...sure.”

“How badly are you hurt?”

Warrior said nothing for a while. Time figured he was assessing himself.

“...pretty...badly...”

The honest admittance scared Time more than if Warrior had lied.

“I can’t...I can’t feel my legs...”

Time’s heart broke at the wavering of Warrior’s voice.

“Time...”

“Hush, Link, it’s alright.”

But it wasn’t, and both knew this.

A shuddery exhale caressed Time’s ear.

“Time, where are you?”

Time didn’t think his heart capable of breaking even more, but it completely shattered at how childlike Warrior sounded.

The Old Man swallowed thickly, choking on his own emotions threatening to surface.

“I’m coming, Link,” His voice cracked and died and Time cleared his throat to start again, “I’m almost there. I want you to stay strong for me, alright?”

“Yeah...yeah...” Warrior weakly whispered.

“The others will find us. You said so yourself.”

Warrior laughed- a wet and awful sound. He choked and Time’s fear and worry skyrocketed.

Once Warrior had recovered, gasping and wheezing still, he whispered hoarsely, “I said...they’d...find you...Pops.”

“I won’t have that kind of talk from you, Link!” Time sharply rebuked, his mind and heart warring against what he knew was happening, “Do you understand? You’ve survived worse. You will survive this!” He sternly told him, refusing to believe otherwise.

He was getting closer. He could tell from the raspy breaths escaping Warrior growing in volume as he drew nearer.

“It’s so dark, Time...”

“I know it is, Link.” Time murmured lowly, the stinging of his eye intensifying, “Not even I can see.”

“Where’s the light..?”

“Link,”

“...yeah?”

Time finally reached him.

“If you do see light,” He swallowed thickly, striving to remain strong, “Promise me-” He had to take a moment to gather himself, “-promise you won’t go to it, alright? Don’t you dare go towards the light.”

Warrior never said anything.

Time blindly reached out. His hand landed on something wet and sticky.

Blood.

And a lot of it.

He felt sick. Nauseous and afraid.

But he needed to be strong. Warrior needed him.

“You’re going to live.”

Warrior wanted to believe him. But he knew the severity of his wounds. The amount of blood he was losing, the broken ribs that he knew most likely punctured a lung...

He’d known he would die one day.

But now that he was experiencing what it was like to die...

Never had it felt so real.

“You know, Time...It’s funny...” Warrior managed to say, blood trickling from his lips. His legs were pinned beneath heavy pieces of debris and he could no longer feel them.

His spine had to have been horribly damaged.

“What’s funny?” Time asked him, and a smile stretched Warrior’s blood-flecked lips. The Old Man was trying to keep him talking.

He felt a hand drift to his hair, fingers threading through the strands and stroking in a comforting manner.

Warrior reveled in Time’s unwavering presence. The sense of safety and security. It encompassed him like a warm blanket.

In several ways, Time reminded him of his own Father. Both were similar, and yet, so very different.

But Warrior was glad to have Time with him. He didn’t know if he could handle being alone.

Licking his lips, Warrior croaked, “It’s...It’s not death people fear...”

“Link-” Time sharply chided, but his voice withered.

“It’s dying,” Warrior admitted in a frail, quivering whisper. Because he was scared.

Dying scared him.

“Please, Link,” Time’s anguished plea was not lost to Warrior. A strong arm slipped underneath him and Warrior’s upper half was lifted off the cold, unforgiving, ground and cradled against the Old Man’s chest.

Warrior’s head was tucked beneath Time’s chin as the eldest Hero begged the Goddess to let him live- to grant him a miracle.

“Don’t you dare give in...”

The arms tightened around him and although Warrior knew it should have hurt, he felt comforted. He sagged in Time’s hold, the numbness spreading from his legs up his spine and through his arms.

His head was growing light, his body faint. A surreal and altogether frightening feeling.

“You have to stay with me. The others will be here soon. They can heal you.”

Whoever he was trying to reassure, neither knew. Warrior? Time himself? Or both? It mattered not.

“We can’t lose you.”

I can’t lose you.

“You’ll...” Warrior coughed again, crimson splattering on Time’s golden armor. Warrior was glad he could no longer feel the pain. He knew it would have been too excruciating.

He would have been crippled with agony.

The pain would have been unbearable. It had been only moments prior until his body started to fail him.

“You’ll take care...of the others...right?”

Time was stricken. He blinked furiously, tears threatening to fall.

“No, no, Link, you and I are both going to take care of them,” He tried to say, but the words were jumbled together as his voice shook terribly. He was almost incoherent, but Warrior understood him perfectly.

The Captain weakly shook his head, his eyes fluttering shut. His lashes were suddenly heavy. The urge to sleep, to give in to the welcoming darkness became prominent.

“Wind...Tell him...Tell him he’s one of the...strongest Heroes...I’ve ever met...And that...I love...my little...brother...”

The dam cracked, the slivers spreading as a couple of droplets of silver rain slipped down Time’s cheeks.

The man who prided himself in staying strong no matter what circumstance or situation he found himself in. The man many believed incapable of feeling emotions so keenly and intensely as others did.

But he did.

He did feel.

And it always hurt. More than words could ever convey.

“And Legend...”

“Please, Link,” Time pleaded, clutching the dying Hero in his arms, pressing his forehead to Warrior’s temple. He listened with a sinking heart as Warrior told Time everything he wanted the Old Man to say to the others.

To Sky.

To Twilight.

To Wild.

To Four.

To Hyrule.

He felt as if something were tearing him apart inside-out. As though some unforgiving monster had ripped out his heart and repeatedly stomped on it, pulverizing it until it was nothing more than dust to be gathered by the wind and spread throughout far away lands.

A parent shouldn’t have to bury their child.

Never.

Warrior’s voice was slowly growing fainter and fainter, the Knight growing limp in Time’s hold.

“I never...regretted it...not...once...” The Knight murmured, his breath hitching, “I’m glad...you’re here...Time.”

“Link, you have to stay.”

Don’t go. Don’t leave us.

Don’t leave me.

Warrior’s eyes drifted shut with a soft smile.

There...

He could see it in the distance.

A light.

Beckoning to him.

But there was a lingering sense of guilt holding him back.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

He didn’t want to go.

He didn’t want to leave. But he was slipping away. His consciousness barely hung by a thread, and that thread was stretching itself thin.

“Hey, Time...”

It was no more than the ghost of a whisper, but Time heard it nonetheless.

Time hummed in a wobbly manner, not trusting his voice.

“What is it, Link..?”

Warrior looked up at Time, unable to see him but knowing he was there. And that was all that mattered.

Time was there. Time was with him.

“I...I can’t...” “You can’t what?” Time weakly asked, voice thick with emotion.

“...stay...awake...I can’t...”

And those were the last words Time heard Warrior say.

Silence reigned.

Time’s breath caught.

His heart plummeted.

His throat constricted.

The dam burst.

And for the first time in a long while, Time cried and sobbed and mourned as he clutched tightly to the cold and pale form of the child he held in his arms.

A child whose life had been stolen from him far too soon.

He buried his face into Warrior’s hair, wretched sounds of grief and turmoil tearing from his throat as he despaired and grieved over this great loss.

Nothing could ever compare to the excruciating agony and heartbreak he felt now. A void formed within Time’s heart as a chunk of it broke off and disappeared.

How could the Goddess be so merciless? So heartless?

Time had never truly believed in prayer. He’d never believed in faith. After all he had gone through, how could he?

But as he held the dying boy in his arms, he prayed like never before. Hoping, yearning, pleading with Her to spare his life.

But She hadn’t.

She’d cruelly ripped Link away from him.

~~~~ He extended his hands, respectfully returning the Ocarina of Time back to the instrument’s original owner.

“I have done all there was to do with the Ocarina,” He quietly said to the Queen as her gloved fingers curled around the beloved instrument. She looked to him expectantly, silently encouraging him to continue, “I have no need for it now that I have returned,” He stepped back and met her gaze evenly.

The Queen only smiled, sorrow and understanding in her eyes. She knew, without him having to say, what he had suffered and done.

“That is where you are wrong,” She lowered her gaze, brushing her hand along the top of the Ocarina, “This Ocarina belongs to you more than it does to me.”

They stood in the Courtyard of the newly furnished Hyrule Castle. The War had destroyed Old Hyrule, forcing Zelda to lead her people to a new home and start anew. This was where Link had found them years later.

The newly-turned Queen delicately placed the Ocarina back into his hands, her blue eyes dark and stormy.

“Keep it with you always, Link. There may come a time when you will need it, and if you should not have it...” She trailed off meaningfully, and Link was stricken. He knew not to take her words lightly, “Let us hope that day will never come.”

But it would.

Both knew but refused to acknowledge it.

~~~~

The memory from so long ago came unwarranted to Time’s mind, yet, it was not altogether an unwanted one.

The older Hero’s head snapped up, eye wide in remembrance and unbridled hope.

Could it be possible..?

He looked down to the still and cold form he held and a flicker of conviction flared to life within him. Zelda might not have known then but he had taken her words to heart and carried the Ocarina with him wherever he went.

Gently, carefully, Time placed Warrior onto the unforgiving, stone, ground and snatched at the pack attached to his belt. He flicked the flap open, digging through the few items it held.

Miraculously enough, the contents within were unbroken and unaffected by the blast and terrible fall Time had suffered. At the very bottom, Time’s blood-stained fingers curled around the familiar outline of his beloved Ocarina.

Now cradling the instrument in his hands, Time whispered a plea to Farore,

“Let this work. Just this once, grant me this miracle, Goddess of Courage,”

After all I have done and all that I have sacrificed-

And he raised the Ocarina and played the tune he had memorized decades ago as a little boy in green.

The Song of Time echoed ominously throughout the impenetrable darkness, ricocheting off the solid debris surrounding them and caressing his ears. The melody was pure, untainted, and only when he completed it, the last note fading into nothingness did the world around him begin to change.

It twisted, warped, and turned. Colors burst to life and blended together until all Time saw was white.

Time came to a halt.

The clock rewound.

Scenes that had already played out reversed. Rips and tears in his clothing, stains, dust, grime, and blood were removed and Time’s eye burned when he came to understand the Blessing he had been given by the Goddess.

Then, just as suddenly as it had stopped, it started again. The hands unfroze and the clock began ticking, each tick a deafening echo in his ears.

A countdown.

Time found himself standing in the decrepit hallway Warrior had left him in. Only, this time around, he was not slumped helplessly against the wall, waiting in agony for Warrior to return.

Without wasting a second, Time sprinted away. Steely resolve fed this newfound strength and adrenaline racing through his body and he whipped around the corner in time to see a disheveled, bloodied, Warrior bolting his way.

A very much alive Warrior.

Cerulean blues so alike his own widened in shock and surprise when Warrior spotted him and skidded to a halt, only just preventing what would have been a painful collision.

-the sound the impact of Warrior’s head connecting with Time’s golden armor resonated through the air as the Captain staggered back with a pained grimace, a hand flying up to his forehead,

“Ow-what-?!”

“Time?” Pure confusion flit across his features, overshadowed by worry, strain, and a hint of pain.

A flood of relief- so powerful and undiluted- cascaded over the older Hero and nearly swept him off his feet. His hand snapped out before a thought crossed his mind and the knight flailed when Time seized his collar-

-Time’s hand shot out and wrested a handful of his tunic, yanking him close. The older Hero leaned down, growling out,

“You and I will be having words, young man-”

- and pulled him close, ordering tersely,

“Don’t do that again,”

Ever.

His eye flashed with something unrecognizable. Emotions raged within that deep pool of blue, roiling thunderously and creating a storm Warrior had never before seen from their Leader.

All the Knight could do was swallow and nod.

Time accepted the timid response then gripped the injured Knight’s shoulder to lead him down the corridor.

“How badly are you hurt?” He asked at once, noticing for the first time the limp the younger Hero had. He snatched Warrior’s pack from the ground. The one he had left behind.

It slowed them a little but not too much. Time’s only motive was to get them out as soon as possible.

-Warrior brushed him off, urgent and jittery,

“There’s no time! We have to go- now!” He breezed past Time, yanking the Old Man behind him until Time recovered himself and matched his pace.

“What is it?”

“Those traitors called for backup,” -

Time’s concern increased when the Knight leaned a little more heavily against his side and it was then he noticed the wheezing. He wrapped a strong arm around Warrior’s back, helping to keep him upright.

Warrior weakly waved a dismissive hand in the air,

“No time to worry about that,” He hissed and Time almost whipped his hand back as if he’d been scalded. Gingerly, Time placed his hand higher up to keep from agitating whatever wound Warrior had earned, “They called for backup. We need to leave-” “I know,” Time calmly interrupted, eyeing the dank tunnel ahead in search for an escape. He did not want to go through the ordeal he had before.

The agony and excruciating pain, the keen sense of loss, and having his heart torn to shreds... It was still fresh. A wound that would scar but never truly heal.

Had it only been minutes since he turned back the hands of time? Hours?

- covered in dust and grime, blood that wasn’t his own seeping into the fabric of his clothing as he clutched the Knight close and hoarsely pleaded with the Goddess to save him-

“You know?” Warrior blinked, pain and befuddlement contorting his features. He looked to Time, appraising him as they hurried through the dark corridor in the hopes of escaping their enemies that were sure to be pursuing them.

The unspoken how? was heard but not answered.

“Stay close to me,”

As if Warrior could go anywhere else but the Knight still nodded. Something within Time settled but he still tightened his grip on him, as if afraid if he were to let go, Warrior would vanish and Time would find this was nothing more than a deceitful dream.

Then, as if to prove to him that this was no dream, an explosion rocked the earth behind them. Although they were farther ahead of the blast than the first time around, the force was still enough to send them sailing.

Time crashed into the unforgiving ground, his shoulder wrenching and side screaming from the harsh landing.

His ears rang, his mind swam, and a coil of unmitigated terror lanced through him as his world was once again plunged into darkness.

The walls of the dungeon shook violently and crumbled. The stone ceiling above caved in and Time threw his arms above his head to protect himself from the debris that crashed around him.

Warrior.

Where was Warrior?

Everything around him quaked and trembled destructively as the tunnels collapsed, trapping them within its deepest confines.

After what felt to be ages, the shaking stopped and the world grew eerily still and silent.

Time wasted no time in dragging himself onto his arms and knees, cracking his eye open and striving to pierce through the darkness.

“Warrior?” He called immediately.

There was no answer.

His breath caught.

No no no..!

He had gone back to prevent this! He had gone back to save Warrior! To keep him alive! He couldn’t fail!

“LINK!” His voice reverberated through the air, rebounding back to him and Time could have sworn his world had come to an end.

Where was he? He couldn’t have fallen far from Time.

“Farore, please,”

All I ask is for him to be alive..!

Could They not give him this? Surely, he had sacrificed and done enough in his life to be granted this miracle.

A rustle and slight movement to his left pulled Time from his whirling thoughts and he snapped his head to the side with barely restrained hope.

“Link?”

-Link, where are you?” Time demanded to know, snapping his head in the direction he thought Warrior’s voice had come from.

“I...” Warrior tried, wheezing in a sickeningly frail manner, “I...don’t know...Can’t tell...S’all dark...” He slurred.

Time’s heart pounded madly against his chest. He willed himself to remain calm.

“It’s alright, Link,” He soothingly told the ailing Knight, “Just keep talking and I’ll come find you.”

A few stone pebbles tumbled, having been disturbed by something. Time didn’t know what impressed him to, but he turned in the direction of the sound. The closer he came to the source, he realized he could make out a faint, extremely dim, pink glowing light coming from behind a particularly large stone brick.

Time rested his hand along the edge of it, crawling around it and looking to see what was causing the light.

He immediately stiffened, heart leaping into his throat, when his searching gaze landed on an altogether disturbing and terrifying sight.

There, not too far from him, lay a crumpled and motionless Warrior. He was on his side, back facing Time, and temple resting on the cool stone.

Fear clawed its way up Time’s chest and wound around him. Unable to speak, unable to breathe, Time ignored the protest of his aching body and threw himself to Warrior’s side. He turned the Knight onto his back and cradled his face in his hands.

The Captain’s eyes were closed, pale features undisturbed and serene. One could almost mistake him for sleeping...

“Not this time, Warrior,” Time harshly told the Knight, ignoring the stinging of his eye and giving the teen a stern shake, “I did not come this far only to have you die again,”

But what could he do? He had nothing to help Warrior and he had no inclination as to how far the others were or when they’d noticed their elongated absence.

-“The others will find us. You said so yourself.”

Warrior laughed- a wet and painful sound. He choked and Time’s fear and worry skyrocketed.

Once Warrior had recovered, gasping and wheezing, he whispered hoarsely, “I said...they’d...find you...Pops.”

Time banished the memory from his mind.

He had to do something- anything! He looked around helplessly and it was then his attention was captured by the fluctuating pink light within Warrior’s pack Time had dropped when he’d been sent flying.

That glow...

Time’s hand snapped out and he clutched the pack, yanking it close. He rifled through it, his fingers closing in on a glass bottle Warrior always carried.

Disbelief mingled with hope seared through Time and he tugged the bottle out.

The Hero could have laughed or cried. Perhaps both.

A fairy.

There was a fairy fluttering aimlessly within the glass, unaware of the going-ons of the outside world.

The fairy he’d previously used to heal the worst of his wounds before he’d turned back time.

Since he’d rewound the clock, he’d never used the fairy. He hadn’t had the need to.

Time didn’t know when he’d uncorked the bottle or when he’d asked the fairy to heal Warrior- if he’d asked her at all. His attention was solely focused on the unconscious and deathly still Knight before him.

Once the fairy completed her work, she disappeared to return back to whatever fountain they’d whisked her from and Time waited tensely.

After what felt to be an eternity but was in actuality only a couple of seconds, Warrior’s brow creased, his features contorted, and a cough rattled his chest.

The sheer elation and overwhelming relief Time experienced was nothing compared to the moment when Warrior’s chest rose and fell with the first intake of breath.

He carefully maneuvered his arms underneath the unconscious teen and lifted him from the uneven ground to clutch him close.

“You’re alive,” Time whispered hoarsely, squeezing his eye shut and giving thanks to the Goddess, “You’re alive,” He placed a hand on the back of Warrior’s head, pressing it against his shoulder and reveling in the fact that he was alive and breathing, “I didn’t fail you...”

~~~~

The light of the new dawn pierced the murky darkness as a hole high above was incessantly chipped away at. Muffled voices, distant and incomprehensible, talked one over another, determination and worry coating their tones.

There was a brief pause and then a shadow blocked the warm filtering sunlight to peer into the abyss below.

They started when they saw the bent form of Time, covered with dust and grime, clinging to the ghostly pale and bloodied form of Warrior.

“Goddess,”

Another shadow forced itself beside the first and went stock still, back rigid and shoulders tense.

“Old Man! Warrior!” Was called down to them, fingers digging into the stone surrounding the hole that had been made.

The Old Man’s face was hidden from them by a curtain of disheveled hair, one hand buried in Warrior’s hair and the other holding him close.

When Time felt and registered the warmth of the light on him, heard the familiar voices from above, he lifted his head with great effort.

He must look terrible but the profound relief and gratitude blooming within him were enough to make Time smile.

~~~~

Time remained vigil by Warrior’s bedside, tensely waiting for the younger Hero to awaken. He kept watch of the steady rise and fall of Warrior’s chest as he breathed with ease. There was no rattle, no wet cough, no blood...

Warrior’s pale face was littered with bruises and small slivers here and there. A bandage was wrapped around his head and arms...but he was alive.

However, only when Warrior woke up would Time be able to rest and relax. knowing for a certainty he would be alright.

Sky, Twilight, Wild, Hyrule, Four, Wind, and Legend would often peer into the room to check on the both of them only to find Time in the same spot, still and unmoving.

Two days had passed since their rescue. It had been Wind who’d noticed Warrior’s absence and Four who mentioned Time’s. Immediately afterwards, the group set off to find them.

With Time’s mind having been preoccupied by Warrior’s well-being and the physical, mental, and emotional exhaustion taking its toll on him, he’d only caught snippets of what the others had done leading up to the point where they’d discovered and dug Warrior and Time out.

The story had been partially explained then. According to Malon, a ransom note had been left on the gate of Lon Lon Ranch. There was no need for her to say more. Time already knew.

The incensed rage and palpable fury mingled with a subdued tone of remorse was easily recognizable in the tenseness of Time’s form and single eye.

Time had sent Twilight and Four to track down the headquarters of these anti-monarch turncoats. With Twilight’s ability, he’d known his descendant and Four would most certainly find them.

He’d recognized the questions the younger Heroes wanted to ask him but they respectfully bit them back.

Time didn’t think he could have answered if he’d tried.

“...Pops..?”

Time blinked slowly, his mind registering the frail, hoarse voice quietly calling to him.

A voice he had not heard in two days and had been impatiently waiting to.

Snapping his head to the right, Time’s eye widened marginally at the sight of two, familiar, cerulean pools of blue blearily looking to him.

“Link?” Time could hardly believe it. A relieved, genuine, smile curved his lips and the Hero placed a calloused hand on the Knight’s shoulder, “About time you woke up.”

Warrior hummed quietly, wincing from the aches and pangs shooting throughout his beaten and bruised body.

“Some deep thinking you were doing there...” A yawn broke from him, “Everything alright?” He drowsily asked, trying to blink the sleep clinging heavily to his lashes away.

Time’s expression softened at the sight and he knocked Warrior lightly on the head, careful not to agitate his wound.

“It is now,” His chest rumbled as he spoke, the tenseness in his shoulders and back lessening now that Warrior had regained conscious, “You gave all of us quite the scare, Link,”

You gave me more than a scare...

Warrior’s brow creased and he rolled his head to meet Time’s gaze, searching the Old Man for whatever answers he sought.

“Scare..?” He mumbled, eyes wandering as he thought long and hard about what Time meant.

Time knew the instant the memories began returning to him and Warrior breathed a sigh of relief and slumped deeper into the mattress of his bed.

“We made it out, Pops,”

The Knight would never know the true cost of their attempted escape. Of Time rewinding the clock to save him. Still, Warrior’s second brush with death hadn’t completely released Time from its grasp.

It had been a harrowing experience. One Time had no want or wish to repeat ever again. He knew, should it happen a second time, he would not be granted the miracle he had been for Warrior.

“Time?”

The older Hylian blinked and turned to find Warrior watching him with a hint of concern,

“Something wrong?”

It was then Time realized his thoughts were being reflected by his expression and he quickly smoothed his features and shook his head in response to the Captain’s question.

“No, no, nothing is wrong, however,” His eye glinted and a stern, displeased stare pierced Warrior as Time rounded on him crossing his arms, “What you did was reckless and nonsensical.”

Warrior shrunk back into the pillows propped behind him. He was in for it now. The sound scolding he was sure to get would be one to last for a lifetime.

Surprisingly, Time elected to skip the lecture and jumped straight into the conclusion. He gripped the Knight’s shoulder tightly,

“Never again, Link,” Time locked gazes with Warrior, striving to drive his point across, “I don’t want you to ever foolishly toss your life away, am I understood?”

All Warrior could do was nod.

It was amazing, how Time could make him feel like a small child.

“Sure thing, Pops,” Warrior dutifully answered when Time raised an eyebrow.

Time narrowed his eye on him, searching for any hint of deceit. Finding none, he released his shoulder and leaned back into his chair.

Warrior frowned, guilt and remorse churning in his stomach.

Time understood that Warrior must have come to the realization of just how badly he’d shaken Time.

Although he would never know the full extent of the terrible ordeal, Warrior was sure to think twice in the future.

A comfortable silence settled between them and Time picked up the Ocarina lying in his lap and blew softly into it, testing the notes before he began to play.

The dulcet tones encompassed the room, simple and melodic.

“Hey, Pops,” Warrior’s quiet, thoughtful voice broke Time’s concentration and the Old Man lowered the Ocarina to hum in question, ”Thanks,”

This drew Time’s attention to the healing adolescent, “For what?”

Warrior made a strange face, brows drawing together and lips pursed. Time curiously rested his hands bearing the Ocarina in his lap,

“Link?”

Warrior shook his head, cringing when it protested against the sudden movement.

“Everything, I guess, but most of all, for being there.”

Time stiffened at the words.

“I’m glad...you’re here...Time.”

“You were an idiot,” Was all the leader said, “Never again, Warrior. Promise to never again risk your life the way you did...” There was a deep-rooted pain and heart-rending grief etched into his typically stoic features that Warrior couldn’t deny. It made him wonder what had happened.

“It was too close a call,” Time whispered mostly to himself, eye faraway and voice distant as he recalled whatever it was Warrior couldn’t, “We nearly lost you.”

But Warrior knew their leader well enough to recognize the words he didn’t say.

We did lose you.

“If it hadn’t been for your fairy,” Time looked away, dark and brooding.

Warrior understood. He recognized how narrowly he’d avoided death. Then, his brows drew together when a faint memory wriggled itself from the far back of his mind and crawled to the front.

“Wait...didn’t you use my fairy?” He questioned, confusion lacing his tone. “I think...I remember...I left you with my pack. The fairy was in it. You- you used it didn’t you?”

Were Warrior’s eyes not sharp, he would have missed the light cough Time stifled with the back of his hand.

“No. I had no need for it.”

“What..?” But that made no sense, “But when I ran into you, you were perfectly fine..?”

Wasn’t he? Warrior couldn’t recall seeing any of the grave and mortally fatal wounds the Leader had earned before they attempted their escape.

A large, calloused, hand gently pat his shoulder and Time sternly said, “You need to rest, Warrior. Everything will be explained later- once you’ve regained your strength and healed. What matters is we made it out alive. The others found us and dug us out,” The older Hero then rested his hands on his knees with a wry smile, “Speaking of the others, they will want to know you’re awake,”

Warrior only frowned at the deflection. He didn’t pursue the matter, however. Time’s tone was enough to tell him the subject was closed and the conversation over.

Time stood and with one last look to Warrior, crossed the room to the door and opened it just enough to poke his head out and call down the hallway to the others.

The scrambling of feet and joyful voices filled the air as the Heroes came darting to the room, and Time smiled with content as he watched them burst into the room and crowd around Warrior’s bed.

Malon walked in afterwards, drying her hands with a dish towel. She smiled at the sight of the Heroes and took her place beside Time, her presence a great comfort to the older Hero.

Time knew he would have given anything for this moment.

He had.

And he always would.

#Linked Universe #linkeduniverse #Warrior #Time #angst #Legend of Zelda #Din finally writes

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sigilscriber · 4 years ago

Text

You’re a Witch??? Rant ahead

Today, like so often, I got that same reaction when I told someone at work I was a practitioner. As always the sterio-typical “But witches are women” was the first thing that crossed their mind. But it often goes beyond that when it comes to me.

I am also tagged with “Where is all your crystals and pendants?” “I thought they only where black?” “Where are your robes?” “Where are your rustic renaissance clothes?” “Where are you goth clothes?” “What is you wand?” “What school can I apply to?” “Is there really a sorting hat of sorts.” “Where is your familiar?” “Do you know Alyssa Milano?” “You must have thousands of books” “My bosses best friends daughter is Wiccan?” “Aren’t you actually a Wizard?” “Can I see your book of spells?” “Ooooooooooh My daughter soooo loves Sabrina.” “My ancestors lived in Salem during the trials” DEEP SIGH!

Thanks Hollywood,

I guess we went from being classed as being green and ugly to being new age- sparkly-hippies, battling monsters and bad witches. No change. Still mis-represented. If even more so.

On average I am just your average college guy. No robes or outrageous garb, no crystals or rings, no piercings. Not even a tattoo. Okay I DO have one heptagram pendant that I wear under my shirt (Just like a Christian or Jew.) And yes I admit I do have a small collection of mortar and pestels and herbs. I just happen to like the shapes and makes of different mortars. I do have a wand but it stays in the draw of my altar. I am not bashing people that do where and have all that gear, clothes and stuff. To each their own. I’m not into hats at all, not into robes and ren shirts. I do not even have a car slathered with tons of witch stickers. I do not need that stuff. Yes, I do have a special pair of jeans and T shirt I like to wear for certain ceremonial works. But even the shirt is just a plain blue t-shirt. Nothing on it. I mean if you saw me crafting, I would look like a pain ordinary guy. I do not have a book of spells of Shadows. I do however have a prayer book I made. I use to have tons of books, but realized it was all the same wiccan stuff being written over and over and over and over and over and over. I ditched them all.

And this whole idea that because I am a witch, people think the only way they can relate to me is bringing up something like “Oh I know someone who sells crystals in Australia” or “Do you know Rowling?” Point of fact. not only do I NOT know her but I LOATH her. She is the cause of my bitterness.

There are days when people pull this on me I feel like asking “Oh you are Christian? Can I see your bible? Do you know Archbishop Wenski? Why are you not wearing a head covering? Yeah I had a Christian relative that was mauled by lions in Roman. Of course I won’t but there are days....

Its bad enough that they continue to make shows and movies that makes ANYONE that’s remotely new age or a witch like they are some comical nerd, dim-witted or clutz. There are times I would love to see a show were the family is Pagan or witches and look and act as normal as anyone else or even well-off, but its the Christian/Jewish neighbors that are made to look like the “freaks”. And seriously, if I ever met Rowling or the creators of Salem, Charmed or Sabrina I would probably bash their heads in with the closest thing I could grab. And you seriously do not want to know what I would do to the asp-hole creators of Supernatural and all those Ghost Hunter shows.

They think its cute to play around and make TV series and movies out of peoples seriously dedicated arts and lives. Let see them make a “Magickal/MIracle” movie about a church of Christians VS Jews. Have them casting “miracles” like parting water, multiplying food, turning furniture into animals. burning flora and water into blood. Lets have a movie where kids go to a different monasteries and learn to make holy water and oils, learn prayers to battle other monasteries. They can be based off of the 4 arch angels and can be chose by an animated rabbi hat. The headmaster can be Noah. And they can get helper cherubs. And it all can take place in the Garden of Eden that they reach by a golden elevator shaped like an arc. Oh and there will be giants, unicorns, fauns, phoenixes, talking snakes and dragons (Because all of these creatures are mentioned in the bible as real) Yeah and the Jews and Christians can turn each other to pillars of salt. And hey, lets have prayer beads and rosaries bestow special powers like strength and invisibility. I mean why not????

Lets have a Show where the family is Pagan/Witches living in a nice house in Suburbia, dad is an executive and mom is a teacher. No special effects, no house with tons of “supposed “ withy stuff is strewn everywhere. No mention of them being pagan or a witch. Maybe just one small pentacle or sacred symbol on the far wall. Now and then at dinner they will have a meal blessing. Have the friend/neighbor be some half wit blonde Christian with huge hair that’s like “Oh I have a rosary for that” any time a problem pops up and works in a Christian book store.

In short: No. Not ALL witches wear tie-die shirts with pentacles on it, Not all witches where tons of rings and pendants. Not all look like some uber goth chick or stoner hippy. Not all have arms emblazed with tattoos. Not all have spell books. Not all live in Victorian/Georgian manors with herbs and glass baubles everywhere. There is no wrinkled elves, Hogwarts or invisibles trains. Some of us wear suits or gym clothes, live in Levitown houses and 40 floor apartments and do not have a single tattoo or crystal. We do not go to special invisible schools nor battle evil witches and monsters with wands. The only robe we wear are bathrobes and the only hat we wear is a hoodie or driving cap.

#witch #rant #harry potter #the craft #charmed #sabrina #supernatural #ghost hunters #christian #jew

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astrologypersonalityandcartoons · 5 years ago

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Supernatural season 15 episode 6

What's withis girls nosebleed

He ate all of that one box

Clarence ooh that name hasn't used in at least a few years.

Yes another character returned. But another unhappy ending it almost looks like you know what I change my mind on this whole ghost thing it kind of sucks worse than I thought.

Cas helping out those people is such a good thing.

So the girl from the beginning is dead

The sheriff is a bit of a douche

Actually you know what he's okay.

Hidden bookcase how extra of Rowena.

She kept journals!!!!!!!

Its painful(in a good way) hearing Sam talk about Rowena.

Are they going to bring Eileen back. Yessssss.

You know I think I actually like the Cas plot this week it feels like it could be cathartic for him doing what he's doing (somehow I don't know I'm not sure).

Crap

Missing people a lot in that area huh...

The sister regrets it huh

Or not "she made my life hell"

Yeah but Dean was way better to you then the probably were to each other

Told you

What if it's not a monster Cas? What if it's another fluke? There have a been few of those even if not recently.

So that's why the sheriff seemed likea bit of an ahole at first

Kill him Cas.

Ooh that's kind of brutal actually..needed to be done but still brutal.

"Not today bitch" we love a queen

Sam really did learn a lot from Rowena.

Does this mean what I think it means.

Cas be careful

Oh something is wrong with Cas.

Yes Sam Dean and Cas back together again. Good call Cas get back in the game.

Yes Eileen is back alive.

So this seasons not all bitter. Good I was worried there for a second.

Hugs

Sam's important speech moment for this episodes happening.

He's right you can beat God.(Somehow)

That's it for this post. BYE.

I think I did something so if there's something weird with this post I apologize seriously.

#supernatural season 15 #supernatural #spn spoilers

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lady-o-ren · 6 years ago

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The Hunger of My Heart

To those odd fellows who are not shackled by all-consuming desires, their hearts never ripped apart to fester hopelessly from that gaping rotting wound, days passed by unremarkably in their small quiet lives.

Never were they beckoned to a strange old apothecary's cottage disguised from their untroubled eyes as nothing more than an abandoned building - fraught with weeds and rampant with decay. Only the weary-hearted in need of the impossible to heal their sorrows could see and beg a wish of the mistress who lived there. A healer with a supernatural gift only as great as her spirit's eternal light.

However, a wish for her skills always comes at a price. An exchange of something precious from the desperate soul.

Nothing more, nothing less.

And today she had a visitor who paced and paced outside her gates of slate, his bleary eyes disturbed as a mourning sea.

———

Past the facade that shrouded the apothecary from prying eyes, was a surrounding, endless garden thriving wild as a forest, where all that grew reached up, up to soak in the golden rays of the cloudless spring sun. Even the young apprentice, Elias Pound, kneeled with a spade digging through the verdant earth, found himself high in spirits despite his nose twitching as a hare's from the inquisitive dragonflies dancing on the wind.

He kindly swatted away at their shimmery beating wings, back to his task of rooting for the treasures buried deep with the earthworms, when his hand came dangerously close to a patch of prickly violet plants that stirred in anticipation for his blunder to be their gain. Before he could move another inch closer the lad felt a touch, warning and familiar at his shoulder.

The mistress of light.

Simply clad in a thin white button-down rolled up her slender forearms and tucked into her well-loved trousers, stitched here and there from age. Further down she wore a pair of shoes that had never known a day without a stroll through the grass, while her hair was an entity unto itself, curling warm as a halo about her face.

"Careful with those," Claire cautioned, with a gentle squeeze of his shoulder, and crouched down beside her apprentice to the dirt that was like her second skin but her heart was owned by the wild around them.

"The juice from a split stalk will slowly eat away at your skin, baring the white of your bones."

Withdrawing his hand to his dirtied lap, wide-eyed Elias curiously studied the dangerous plant that smelled of citrus, tangy and crisp. "Why grow such a wretched plant at all then?"

"Because too many folk in the early days of ale and mead knew its leaves held a cure for a bruising hangover and squandered it, leaving the earth barren of its name and very nearly its seed except for here in this patch of earth."

She fondly thumbed the fuzzy underside of one sharp-edged leaf that had saved her from many a dark and pleasurable bender.

"They also keep the vermin and insects away but sadly not the untrained eye." Claire gave the lad a pointed, yet not unkind look of reprimand. "Keep to your studies, Elias, if you value your fingers."

"I shall, mistress," the lad assured her with a nod, as his round freckled cheeks pinked under a mop of russet hair. The color deepened as he sputtered a chuckle when Claire thumped him, shoulder to shoulder, at the title he addressed her by.

As he forever would do no matter the years, decades. A century or two.

When his mistress kept herself perched beside him, taking inventory of his withy basket filled with heaps of medicinal herbs and pungent wild garlic (along with a bitty red ladybug roving lost atop them), Elias wondered aloud,

"Wasn't Mr. Fraser supposed to call on you today, mistress?"

Mr. Fraser was a friend of hers that had kindled months before and was never one to keep the lady of the house waiting.

Before she could answer where Elias would hear the disquiet in her voice, note the concern in her eyes, a bell clear as birdsong echoed through the air, signaling the company in question had arrived.

Claire rose from the ground as if she'd been plucked by the breeze and quirked a brow at her apprentice, a faint smile at her mouth. "Do keep yourself in one piece, Elias. It'd be a shame to lose a fine hand such as yours."

He gave her a cheek grin, rubbing his nose with a sooted knuckle that painted him more speckled than he already was. "Don't bother a worry with me, mistress. And send my regards to your man for me."

Claire ignored the last comment, if it was even heard, as she was already off towards the fading bell chime.

_____

Claire hurried down the hallway of her inheritance from long ago, the power enchanted within the apothecary walls having given her years beyond the promise of a creator high above. Where rooms were neatly cluttered with every curiosity that had ever caught her eye, itched at her hands, had the power to heal the human soul.

There were shelves enclosed with folding glass doors, twice the height of a man extending from floor to mahogany beamed ceilings. They held bottles of bitter thick liquids that could coat a mouth a frothy bluish-green, others sweet as fruit just tumbled from a vine, fallen from a tree.

Cabinets held charms big as a man's fists, smaller than thimbles, to ward against dark spirits that lurked in the shadows, stalking the unknowing until their touch was upon them, claiming flesh and mind. Mirrors too were scattered among the bric-a-brac of another room that gleamed reflections of other realms, and time, but draped with sheets to shield any unfortunate from falling through, leaving nothing but a wisping breath of who they once were behind.

And one room left undisturbed held tear-stained belongings that had been sacrificed to purge a spirit of its relentless suffering.

As would be done today.

Claire slowed her stride to gather breath to lungs, combing from her cheeks a tickling of errant curls. She had cut her hair a bit too short, above her proud shoulders, during an impulsive battle of struggle and defeat where she broke several brushes to a shamble of splinters.

Her Mr. Fraser - Jamie, had to coax her from her room and at first sight fondly tugged her dark locks, promising they were lovely still.

"As a tangled bushel of curly dock weeds," he had said, provokingly with a snort. Claire had flicked his nose in glaring retaliation (even as she was mildly impressed he recalled any of her chatter on the botanical), then readied her elbow for a jabbing as his wide mouth pursed for another compliment that sputtered into rib-shaking laughter.

However, that joyful tease in his lilting voice had been smothered to a haunted rasp when days after he called upon her at the solemn hour of dawn's first light.

"I beg for yer hand to heal me, Claire. To bleed my misery, gift me peace."

Unspoken was the why and reason when questioned from her tightened throat. The call falling dead when uttered that she would do all that was possible for him.

Claire vowed to do just that as she turned a final corner to the front of her shop that doubled as her home, finding Jamie faced away from her, edged over the long oak countertop. He was rigid as stone from shoulder to toe, except for his fingers tapping a raving beat against the hardwood until he heard his name whispered, breaking his anxious trance to glance her way.

His eyes, rimmed with bruising shadows, were a fleeting rush of mingled relief and fear, with a flicker of intensity undefinable. Then gone behind a mask of stillness cracking at the seams as he averted his gaze to the empty space between them.

Claire felt the whole of her seize to see Jamie sickened with such an affliction and a chest gnawing guilt that she, a healer, hadn't seen the signs of distress before now. And that he didn't trust her with his woe before it came to this.

At her approach, she raised a palm to touch him - whether it be his hand soothed between hers or to clutch her dearest friend with all she had until his ill seeped to herself - only to let it falter to her chest as the very motion caused Jamie to clench his jaw and flinch.

Another crack breaching his mask.

He bowed his head in apology, waves lusterless as rust and Claire's own features gentled in response, wanting to appear unfazed.

"You're late." She tried to sound casual enough. "Not having second thoughts are you?"

"No," was Jamie's curt and raspy reply. "If ye please, I would like to be rid of this -" He tapped a long forefinger to his temple. "Now and forever."

Claire inclined her head, resisting the urge to thread her arm with his. A habit from their first stumbled upon meeting, a ritual now rebuked.

"Of course, come with me."

She led Jamie to a room that was nearly wall to wall windows, obscured by plants hanging from the walls and wooden rafters that filled the room with the fragrance of herbs and jasmine flowers. Claire held the arched door open for Jamie to pass through but he paused at the doorway and questioned,

"Is the lad wi' ye today?"

Claire assured him they would have no interruptions as Elias was in the garden. "Probably singeing his poor fingers as we speak and rueing the day he ever crossed my path."

She hoped to spark a chuckle, no matter how small, to lessen his gloom, but Jamie merely strode past her (mouth pressed into a numbing white line, ducking low to avoid a smack from the doorframe), sitting at the small round table in the middle of the room. In the past the two had tea there, possibly spiked with a heavy hand of brandy, whisky more often than not, telling each other's fortunes of fantastic demise and toothless hunchbacked lovers from grubby leaf bottoms and the crumbled bits of chocolate biscuits.

All that dressed it now were brown bits of flower petals.

Taking her seat across Jamie (his attention absorbed in the wood grain of the old table), and needing to dispel the disturbance clinging to him, Claire began her speech recited thousands of times before to those like himself.

And once spoken to her by the old master of the apothecary, her own Maitre Raymond, when she sat in his very seat.

"Your thoughts are yours alone. The memories, good and bad, are protected from my sight. But I can feel them, all that plagues you. You only need to free your mind to be healed."

The words sinking in, Jamie flicked his dour gaze uneasily to hers.

"I have yer word I willna remember all that ails me, Sassenach?" The name he gave her that filled along forgotten hollowness beneath her breasts.

"I promise. Even if I must rip its possession of you."

So with a heavy exhale, Jamie pulled from inside his coat's breast pocket a small cherrywood snake. He rubbed his thumbs against the ridges carved down its coiled spine with a reverence that one would give to a holy cross and deep from his throat said something haltingly in gaelic (Claire thought it must be a goodbye) then laid the snake carefully between them.

"To honor the mistress of the house."

Claire wished she could refuse him but she was bound to the rules of give and take carved in the wood of the house. All she could do was give it the same reverence as Jamie, her fingers gingerly stroking it from head to tail. Memories flooded her senses, ones spent frolicking in glades, hiding in barns beneath the hay, shivering to the bone in unforseen rain.

But brightest of all was of a departed brother's love carved on the flat underbelly of the snake, a name her fingers softly traced.

Sawny

Swallowing thickly, Claire gently placed it aside and held her palms up. Jamie noted with an aching affection streaks of green, scented strongly of mint, marked a few of her fingertips.

"I'll need to touch you now. It's the only way for me to do what must be done. "

Color finally flushing his pallid skin, Jamie breathed almost shyly, "Ye may. It wouldna be proper if I were to go wi'out smelling like yer wee herbs."

They shared a smile, however small, as Jamie's gone in a flash.

Without thought, needing to be near him, Claire pushed her chair closer to his (not missing the sharp inhale that left his mouth) and tentatively cradled his face where she couldn't help but stroke against the scarred lines of restlessness. Beneath his greyed eyes under long lashes, down to the stubbled thin cheeks stretched tightly over sharp curving bone, and then the corner of his wide mouth that twitched, parting softly in a haggard sigh. Or was it a sob?

Jamie was quick to brace her wrists.

"There's nothing to fear, Jamie," Claire soothed, her breath of honey, tang of whisky, kissing at his lips. "Trust in me to care for you."

He managed to muster a half smile, crooked and true, but his gaze of her was mournful. Regretful even. "I always do, Sassenach. Always."

But he kept his grip on her that whitened his knuckles and she refused to let him see the worry creeping up every notch of her vertebrae as she pressed her thumbs to his temples. "Now, focus on the source of the pain."

Jamie's eyes fluttered closed and Claire delved into his mind with a touch that glowed just as the flowers of devotion, a radiant forget-me-not blue.

She was enveloped with the pieces of him that blared like the mighty sun - That bull-headed stubbornness. The bone deep loyalty of a knight. His insufferable sense of humor, vexing her even as she bubbled over with laughter. And Jamie's pure hearted goodness, so forgiving and impossibly kind.

Oh, how she admired him so.

But underneath that beautiful aura, Claire felt an agonizing blood red pain slashing apart his flesh, crying out in despair that misted her eyes as her hand fell to his breast, clasping the source of it all.

A burning heart so divine in love.

"Oh, Jamie."

His eyes flew open in gut clenching panic. "You said ye couldna see."

"I can't. I only feel what consumes you and I do as if it were my own heartbeat throbbing, shattering." Her pulse was indeed rising with his dizzying passion, hunger and such unspeakable love blazing like wildfire.

"How can this person not reciprocate?" Her voice cracked.

Jamie lowered his chin and covered both his broad palms over hers making the fragile bones quiver from the mounting pressure as he pressed them against his hammering heart, slowly killing him.

"She kens nothing of how I feel, nor could she ever bless me with what I yearn to have. She haunts my every dream to where I fear to sleep. I canna breathe when I see her, am near her - even if I only think of her my heart's blood leaves me as if to perish."

Mouth twisting in pain he whimpered, "Now please free my soul of her. "

Claire dug her nails through his shirt, swallowing the salty sting of tears.

"You will feel a coldness towards this woman. No love or warmth will she ever be to you. You'll remember her but she will hold the same place as a stranger in your heart. Can you handle that?"

"That's what I want. What I need." Tears freely trickled down his wasted face and Claire knew that no words would sway him. Pressing her forehead to his, she sought once more to grasp that wild perfect flame he wanted her to smother.

"Speak her name aloud."

Jamie pressed his trembling thumbs to the jumping pulse at her wrists, breathing once, then other and once more again, he sobbed.

"Sorcha."

"A pretty name who will be no more to you."

_____

I rewrote another thing. And I honestly could rewrite this forever and ever and ever.

I don’t know if I made it better or worse.

Thanks to @smashing-teacups for giving this a look-see.

#outlander #outlander fanfiction #outlander fanfic #jamie x claire #weird stuff #thehealer

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