#travel log ; skyloft

[hyliagenesiia]

@hero-of-skies sent: "Alright, that's it. You're going to bed, and I'm not taking no for an answer." He will carry her to a place to sleep, should she protest.

She wasn't going to admit that she was tired - not when there was so much to learn about this hero and his time. She had so many questions and each one yielded at the very least three more. Skyloft was little more than a myth in her time, often debated among scholars whether it had ever been real, and Link was proof that it had been.

"I would not sleep, even if I were to go to bed," Zelda told him, crossing her arms over her chest. "My time magic brought me here for a reason, I am certain of it, and I could not possibly sleep when there is so much to explore!"

[hyliagenesiia]

"I like to think I know my own limits," Zelda countered. She did know her limits, the problem was that she would frequently and stubbornly push past her limits - it was something her Link would always chastise her about. It'd been a point of contention more than once, especially after the Calamity had been defeated and Zelda began pushing herself so hard to rebuild her kingdom.

At the offer, Zelda gave an intrigued tilt of her head. "Who is Crimson? In all the histories, I cannot recall that name among the founding Hylians and I have long memorized a fair bit of our history."

Cont. from here. @hyliagenesiia

Link sighed, shaking his head and rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And there will still be plenty to explore and learn when you awaken with a fresh and clear mind, and the energy to do so." He scolds gently, slowly stepping closer.

"I understand wanting to learn everything in a new location, but you can't do that if you wear yourself thin. I'll introduce you to Crimson tomorrow if you sleep, how about that?" The hero offered, holding out his hand for Zelda. He's still ready to simply pick her up and carry her away, however.

[oneweirdbookaddict]

Congratulations on your milestone! Very exciting!❤️

For requests, maybe write about a Link with verbal issues?

Like, maybe one is selectively mute/apraxia of speech, one stutters, or one has like echolalia?

Thanks on the congrats!

I hope you like it!

This one fought me start to end, but it was cool to research and fun to write!! Thanks for the request!

Wind, Sky, Wars, and Four are the main focus, though everyone is there and participating!

1335 words, no warnings!

~~~~

The weakest link in a chain of command is always communication. 

Wars complains about it every time they get mail- reports and letters from his Zelda and Impa will get him so riled up he has to take a walk to calm down. 

Then comes back to complain to whoever will listen about how no one can communicate and listen to orders for an hour. 

“I mean, I know I’m not there to give direct orders but for the love of the goddess I wasn’t for half of the war, either!” The captain signs furiously. “It’s like just because I’m away ‘on holiday’ it’s like they don’t have to do what I say!” 

“Your Z- Zelda t- t- told them you’re on holid- day?” Four says, looking somewhat amused. 

“Y E S!” The captain signs letter by letter for emphasis. “That was her first mistake!” 

“Some holiday this is.” Legend mutters, getting a snort from the sailor. 

“Holiday.” Wind repeats. 

“Why a holiday?” Wild asks curiously. 

“I don’t know!” Wars sighs, gesturing with his hands after the sentence. 

“Easier than explaining to them that you got sucked through an evil-looking purple portal that sent you through time and space?” The traveler asks with a frown. 

“Well, maybe, if it hadn’t already happened before!” The captain signs grumpily, poking at his letter. 

Sky chokes. “Hmm?” The Skyloftian hums, coughing over his water. 

Legend pats the knight on the back. 

“He said it happened before.” Wind clarifies, clarifying absolutely nothing to most of the crew. 

Sky makes a confused face. 

“During the war, Cia created a hole in time and space. I visited Skyloft myself and fought there. Zelda, though disguised at the time…” 

The captain’s hands slowly stop in response to Sky frantically gesturing for him to stop, finding his journal and scribbling in it frantically. 

Shoves it frantically at Four, who translates. 

“What d- d- did it look lik- ke? I didn’t- t know th- that. W- was it in my fut- fut- fut- after my t- time?”

Four sighs over the word he’d failed to pronounce, mouthing it slowly until Wind nudges him. 

Wars is halfway through his reply, Sky hanging on desperately to every word. 

“- don’t know anything about times, there wasn’t time to talk to anyone and after the battle, it was hurry rush go.” Wars signs, emphasizing the rush.

Wild glances up from the cooking pot, where he’s making individual pizzas for everyone. 

“Wind?” Wild gets the sailor’s attention. “Mushrooms on your pizza?” 

“Mushrooms.” Wind agrees, eyes still on Wars with a small, mostly amused smile. 

“Mushrooms s- s- suck.” Four mumbles, and the champion grins at him. 

“Peppers in yours, Smithy?” 

“No!” Four yelps, grey eyes narrowing when Wild laughs. 

Wars is still complaining about his letter, setting a new record with two and a half hours of complaining. 

Hyrule gestures their new record to them over the captain’s head, so only they can see. 

Though the captain falters at Legend’s snort, glancing up at the traveler. 

Rulie smiles innocently, really turning up his large hazel eyes. 

Like a puppy. 

Wars tries to look serious, but alas, no one is immune to the traveler’s eyes. 

“I don’t believe it is as big of a deal as you believe it to be, Captain.” Time says ever so formally. 

Wars sighs, slumping dramatically over the log he’d been leaning on. 

“It isn’t,” the captain agrees with a sigh. “But I still have to deal with it when I get back.” 

“Mm. Maybe we’ll all die and none of us get to go back.” Legend says way too casually. Then- “Joking. I was joking.” When every eye in the group finds him. 

“Bad one.” Sky mutters, the rare sound of his voice making them all jolt and burst into laughter. 

Legend’s cheeks flush, but he’s failing to hide his own laughter. 

Sky is almost completely nonverbal- the sound of his voice is incredibly rare. The knight must be having a good day. 

Four, on the other hand, is not. The smithy is the type of person who’s always on the move and hates being held back. His stutter- which they’re slowly realizing is a recent development for him- frustrates him at times. 

It’s a bad clash when Sky writes and Four… is their sole translator. 

Sky’s written language is too different for any of them to be able to read, and sometimes even Four struggles a bit. After centuries, writing just doesn’t stay the same. 

On top of that, they’ve… mostly figured out how to effectively communicate with each other. 

Battles were definitely still a challenge, communication being an outright struggle with them before they found a way to make it… effective. 

Fighting in predesignated pairs, if possible, people who can communicate at a moment's notice with… someone who isn’t able to. 

That one helped a lot after Sky got hurt and couldn’t tell anyone. 

They’d found him later, passed out against a tree. But no one had known what had happened, if he’d been abducted or worse. 

So they do regular check-ins with each other- Wars, Wind, and Wild. Time, Twi, and Sky. And Four, Hyrule, and Legend. 

“Four, beating yourself up over your stutter won’t help it.” Time says quietly, the smith sighing over at their oldest member. 

Nods slightly, fidgeting slightly before picking up a book. 

Wind grins and zips next to him, always enjoying looking at the pictures in Four’s smithing texts, or maps in the history ones. 

On his good days, the smithy will read or explain the context to the sailor. 

Time helps Four a lot with his stutter- apparently, the old man had a stutter when he was younger. 

They often take walks together and work on speaking. Four is really self-conscious about his speech. 

Wars, too, struggles with his disability, though it seems to be more frustration than self-consciousness. In a position of leadership, it’s understandable. 

They all silently wonder how the captain was… well, able to command soldiers on the battlefield. 

But then again, none of them are war veterans. They’re not exactly sure how it works, and they’re sure Wars’ leadership was able to make accommodations. 

Sky is the most comfortable with his speech, though he gets frustrated with his lack of ability to communicate with them. With centuries between him and his closest descendant, Hylian Sign has just changed too much for them to understand it, and Sky has a hard time understanding Wars. 

The best they’ve currently figured out, with Four knowing Sky’s written language because of what Legend dubbed ‘nerdiness,’ is Sky writing on spare parchment and Four translating. 

Wind… they’re not quite sure what Wind thinks. The sailor seems so unbothered by everything. Absolutely no embarrassment at his self-proclaimed ‘outbursts.’ 

Which is just him repeating a phrase or a few words of what someone’s said. Wind has said that yes, it’s technically a speech disorder though it’s rare. 

There’s not even a name in his Hyrule for what he has, though Wild’s called it Echolalia. The champion mentioned, very offhandedly, that he’d been diagnosed with it. 

Wild… was an odd one. Some days he was mostly nonverbal, though others he was entirely verbal. It depends on how he’s doing day by day, though a trigger could easily turn a verbal day into a nonverbal day. 

Usually, they can tell if a switch is coming, unless it’s in battle or another chaotic situation that they can’t seem to avoid. 

They all prefer the softer, more peaceful moments of sitting around a fire, or in a room of an inn. 

Some talking softly, others communicating in their own way, playing cards, reading, carving, anything they want. 

Communicating however they want, in the way that works for them, with people who accept their differences without judgment. 

With all their shared experiences, they're able to understand each other more than other people who haven't been through the same thing are able to.

And they work constantly with each other to continue that understanding.

~~~~

[the-unknown-storyteller]

Journals

(Universe by @linkeduniverse)

Summary: Almost every Link of the group owns a journal in any shape or form.

____

Although Wild is usually the one, running around with a journal in his hands or strapped to his hip, there are several Links in the group that do the same thing.

Time keeps a journey log filled to the brim with hundreds if not thousands of notes and letters for when he can return to his lovely wife. He keeps everything neat and organised with dates added to every page. Some paper pieces look a lot older and weathered down than the others, slight crinkles at the edges and a faint yellow tint to where water had hit the paper a long, long time ago.

Still, Time keeps every little note that he has written, both on bad and good days and keeps them safe for Malon. So that she can read and feel what he's seen and felt. That thought alone makes long nights around the campfire a bit easier to go through, a bit more bearable when he simply can't sleep, haunted by the ghosts of times long past, and needs a distraction strong enough to make them go away.

Wind is often seen going through a small sketchbook, a smile on his lips or a happy glimmer in his eyes. His sister had given it to him before he had parted with her and his grandma. Most of the drawings are just simple sketches of seagulls or ships, usually from a very far away perspective.

One could also say that those were just some random lines with a slight resemblance of some bird and walnut shells. There's only so much a nine-year-old can do from on top of a watchtower and with references that constantly move around. Wind loves each of them, nonetheless. Sometimes he adds a sketch or two of his own because coming home empty handed is a no go. His sister would be so disappointed. Thus, he draws and draws and draws for his little sister at home, eager to see her smile when he shows her all the things he's seen on his journey.

Legend, on the other hand, owns a journal with a much more practical purpose. With years and years of traveling experience under his belt, he knows that it's important to keep track of everything, dimensional pockets be damned. Food, potions, supplies like bandages and thread. Everything goes into his journal as numbers and dates. Although, it would be a lie to claim that he only writes lists and plans of how to make the rations last longer when they're in a pinch.

Hyrule once caught him extremely early in the morning, writing a short story from the perspective of a painting. Which had sounded kind of silly back then and he only got a few sentences in, but from what he had seen, it was very well written and he'd love to read more of it. Hyrule felt like he would get to know Legend better if he did. But the way Legend whipped around and scrambled to pack his book away with this kind of shocked and scared expression on his face made Hyrule not want to push his friend.

Sky’s journal is more like a folder, holding together multiple pages, most of them bright and colourful. A normal notebook wouldn't have worked all that well for how he wants to use it, so he had decided to get a piece of leather and a band to wrap around a few times. He then filled it with paper that’s thicker and sturdier than normal one, since it has to be able to withstand his paints and chalk. Sky paints when his heart begins to ache for the past.

When he gets homesick, he sits down, looks at the sky and starts working. As a result, his book is filled with sketches of clouds, so soft that you believe they might fly away any moment now. Urged forward by a gentle gust of wind.

On good days, he uses either pastel sticks or aquarelles. His hands work slowly and lightly with relaxed but still precise movements, similar to how a feather falls gently to the earth. Sky takes his time on those days and enjoys every line he lays down and every colour he manages to blend smoothly.

On bad days, he uses charcoal and dark oil paints. His lines are vicious then, threatening whoever decides to dare look at them. There's anger and despair that flows into the colours. His hands move fast and with such force that he's once broken a brush of his.

Those days are messy and impatient with harsh and jagged lines and barely any white space left behind. When looking only at those pieces, no one would be able to tell that he's also the one behind the cloud paintings that speak of such gently and careful hands.

In all of his paintings, there's usually a Skyloft flying in the distance or at least a single red feather hidden somewhere. That same feather is burned and charred on the edges on those rare days when Sky’s heart feels rotten.

Lastly, there is Hyrule. He's a big mystery to everyone, at least his two journals are. One of them is so incredibly thin that there can't be more than twenty pages in it. It looks barely used, too. The spine is pristine and barely broken in and there are next to no scratches on the soft, light brown leather cover. The only part of it that betrays any kind of usage are the miniscule gaps between pages in set intervals. So it must have been at least opened once or twice.

His other journal, though, is loaded with whatever Hyrule has decided to put in there. Pages warped and wrinkled, making the cover expand and bend itself outwards. A band wrapped around it multiple times, similar to how Sky does it, keeps all the pages from spilling out and onto the ground.

Next thing is that they barely get to see them too. They're usually hidden in Hyrule’s bag between potions and bandages and tools like a knife and a pair of scissors that look incredibly sharp. Sharp enough to cut through thick rope with ease which confuses the others. Why have an extra pair of sharp scissors when you can slash through everything just as well with a small knife? It would make sense if he uses it for mending his clothes, but no such thing. Because they barely get to see the scissors too.

Additionally, Hyrule disappears every two days for several hours, he walks away from them as soon as they’re finished setting up the camp with quick and light steps. Today is no different.

“Got something important to do. Don't worry about me, I'll be back in a bit”, he yells back, making his way down the hill towards a forest nearby.

When Warrior notices the two journals in his right arm and the pair of scissors in his left hand, he immediately perks up from where he is putting down wood to get a fire going. He's intrigued and the tingling in his hands is slowly receding, too. He's sold.

“We might not have enough fire wood for the whole night, I'll go and collect some more”, Warrior says, slowly backing away from the others, some of whom shout a distracted thanks.

As soon as he is out of sight of the group, he ducks down beneath the grass that stands tall above him and goes to follow Hyrule who's detoured from his original path and takes a sharp right. He disappears behind some large boulders.

Warrior stands still for a few seconds. Listening. Waiting if Hyrule suddenly changes his mind and goes back, possibly catching him in the process. But all he hears are light footsteps that move away from him. A small grin grows on his face. He shakes his right hand a few times and runs towards the boulder, taking quiet shuffling steps around it.

Before he even gets to turn around and take a peek, he can hear a quiet and gentle voice, that is undoubtedly Hyrule’s, talking.

“This one won't do. I’m sorry but you're just too small, even if you are quite beautiful. Give it a few days and you'll be the prettiest of them all, I'm sure of it. I can't just go and snip you now-”

Warrior peeks his head around the rock and is quite confused by the pureness of the scene that unfolds before him. Hyrule is standing there in a crouched position, the pair of scissors in his right hand. The other holds the very thin journal, opened at what appears to be a random page. The other book lays next to Hyrule’s right foot in the soft grass.

There is this kind adoring look on his face, which also radiates calmness and contentment. Warrior can see that he is still talking to whatever interesting thing is on the ground there. What is he talking to? A bug? A worm? No, why would someone want to “snip” a worm? He doesn't get it and he can't see form this far away.

Hyrule gets up and shuffles over to another patch of grass, repeating the same process of talking to the ground. This time, though, he makes a careful cut with his scissors and lays whatever he's found into his journal. He clamps it shut and opens a new empty page. Then shuffle, crouch, talk, snip. He repeats that process a few time and each damn time Warrior can't see what it is that he's putting in his book.

Warrior’s chest is burning with vicious curiosity now and he can no longer stand still. He taps his foot a few times, before he thinks that it doesn't matter and sprints over to where Hyrule is standing. He’s taking the leather string off of his book, back turned to the approaching storm.

“Just what is it that you're collecting in there?!”, Warrior cries out and startles Hyrule badly. Both of his journals fall to the ground...

..and a dozen, a hundred dried flowers and flower petals spill out and onto the ground. They both stand there for a second, frozen. Time stands still.

Warrior is staring.

Hyrule is staring back.

Warrior takes in the sight of the dried flowers.

Then, Hyrule’s body comes back to life with a start when he notices some dark blue hydrangea have crumbled upon impact. He crouches down and picks up the once delicate flower petals with gentle hands.

“I'm sorr-”

“It's okay. They weren't all that important anyway.”

They both know that's a lie. Warrior can see it in the way his shoulders are hunched forward, in the way his hands form a small bowl, as though he is trying to protect the remaining pieces.

“Why are you always so secretive about this?”

Hyrule looks up at him with a questioning look. “Hm? Oh. Well, none of you have ever asked about it and I didn't feel like telling you.” A short pause. “You see, I've done this ever since I've started traveling. It’s always felt like something that was mine and mine alone. It’s a useless and stupid sentiment, but I still held onto it. I don't really mind, though, if everyone found out about it. It's just a small hobby. I would take one hour out of my day and collect flowers to press them and put them into my scrapbook.”

Warrior sits down next to Hyrule, who has started to put everything back to where it belongs. “But why?”, he asks.

“I guess… I just like the process of it and what you get at the end. I've travelled a lot, not as much as Legend, of course, but I've come around quite a bit. And every time I get somewhere new, I am awed by what I'm seeing and encountering and I think ‘I want to keep a piece of this with me’. Pressed flowers were the easiest solution to that.”

There's silence once again, save for the quiet rustling of the flowers. Warrior takes a deep breath.

“Would you mind...?” He gestures at the sad pile of broken hydrangeas. “I'm sorry for ruining them and would like to know the story. If you're willing to tell me, that is.”

Hyrule glances up at him, sees the sincerity behind his apologetic smile and huffs.

“I guess it couldn't hurt to share just a few.”