The Ghost in the Lost Woods
While trying to navigate the Lost Woods Link meets a strangely familiar figure
Ao3 | Fic beneath the cut
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When he ends up at the entrance to the Lost Woods for the twentieth time Link is forced to finally admit it. He’s lost, hopelessly so.
With a sigh, he ignites his torch once more. This is the only part of the woods he’s been to so far where he can actually see two feet in front of him. Everything else is bathed in thick fog that he can make neither heads nor tails of.
Supposedly, the wind is meant to guide his steps and bring him to the place where the Master Sword awaits.
Supposedly.
It certainly hasn’t helped him yet.
Maybe he should turn back. He casts a glance over his shoulder to where he knows the path lies, hopelessly obscured by the fog. He could set up camp right outside the forest, cook something warm and hearty, get some sleep. Then, when morning dawned he’d be up bright and early, ready to try again.
But he doesn’t want to give up, not yet, not now when he’s already wasted half of a day trying to navigate these blasted woods.
He takes a deep breath, steels himself, and heads forward once more.
He makes it five steps before the mist closes in, the telltale giggles of Koroks fill his ears, and the forest spits him out…right back at the entrance.
Link lets out a growl of frustration. How’s he supposed to pull the sword when he can’t even find it? He stumbled upon it before, a mere chance encounter when he was a child playing amongst the trees. Why is it so very difficult now?
Does the Goddess not want him to find it? Has she deemed him unworthy after his miserable failure?
It wouldn’t surprise him.
He extinguishes his torch and walks over to the nearest tree. Flopping down, he leans against it and closes his eyes. The sounds of the forest drift to his ears, carried on the wings of the wind that failed him. Usually, they’re calming, a balm on his frayed nerves, grounding him when the weight of everything becomes too much. But today they only serve to remind him that even nature itself rejects him.
He lets out a bitter laugh. He’s unworthy of a forest now. Fancy that.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?”
A voice slices through the quiet, pushing aside his dismal thoughts. Link opens his eyes.
“Huh?”
A tall man dressed in a full plate of armor gazes down at him, his one eye twinkling with something like amusement.
“I asked if you were lost.”
Link blinks once, twice. He has the oddest feeling he’s met this man before, maybe even known him well. But that can’t be. He makes a point of remembering everyone he comes across on his travels and he’s never even seen this man, much less gotten to know him.
Then again, he doesn’t even remember the faces of his parents. If this man is from his past, there is little chance he would recall him now.
“Umm.”
Eyes narrowing, he looks from the man to the woods and back again. He could be a Yiga, of course. That would explain his unexpected appearance. He has never seen Yiga in these parts though. No doubt they’re afraid to venture too close to the mysterious Lost Woods. And, then, there’s also the fact that he isn’t wearing one of their trademark suits, nor offering to sell him overpriced bananas.
Besides, this man has a strange sort of aura about him, almost like the feeling Link gets when he uses one of the Champion’s powers. He must possess strong magic–maybe even dark magic if the odd markings on his face are any indication. Yet, he dresses like a knight.
And to make matters even stranger, he wavers slightly out of focus if Link stares at him for too long, skin turning just the tiniest bit bluish and translucent. With him standing with his back to the woods, Link has the distinct impression of a phantom emerging from the hazy darkness of the trees.
This man is no ordinary traveler, that much is terribly obvious.
Link frowns up at him, hand drifting ever so slowly to his slate. “Who are you?”
The man smiles, kind and a bit sad. “You can call me Time.”
Time.
Link’s frown deepens. There it is again, the feeling of unexplainable familiarity, as though he’s heard that name before.
“And you’re…traveling through these woods too?”
“You could say that.”
Slowly, Link stands, careful to keep his hand by his slate. He hasn’t tested Stasis on magical beings or ghosts, but it’s worth a try. At the very least, he might be able to take advantage of the element of surprise. His efforts to be nonchalant must not be too effective, though, because Time’s gaze flits to his hip.
“You don’t have to worry,” he says, evenly. “I’m not here to hurt you.”
“Then, why are you here?”
He regards him calmly, arms crossed over his chest. “To guide the hero to his birthright. That is what you’re after, isn’t it?”
Link’s blood runs cold. Usually, he has no qualms about strangers knowing who and what he is. But usually, they’re random civilians more interested in meeting their crush or seeing a mythical weapon than anything else. And they certainly don’t possess any magical abilities. For this man, however, this strange knight who practically emanates power to know who he is, feels…well it doesn’t feel wrong at all. In fact, it feels as right as following Zelda’s voice or setting the Divine Beasts free. It feels like destiny.
And that is what terrifies him.
“What,” he chokes, “what makes you think I’m the hero?”
Time smirks. “To attempt to pass through these woods you must either be incredibly foolish or incredibly courageous. And you don’t strike me as a fool.”
Link swallows down the fear lodged in his throat. He isn’t entirely sure what to say to that. He’s never been a good liar, that much is for certain, but sometimes he really, really wishes he was.
“Besides,” Time continues, reaching down to pull off one of his gauntlets, “it’s not all that difficult to recognize someone else who possesses the unbreakable spirit.”
He holds up his hand and Link’s eyes go wide. There on his skin is the mark of the Triforce, its far right corner bolded in gold.
Link stares at it, almost not believing what he’s seeing. Slowly, he drags his gaze back up to meet Time’s.
“You—you’re a hero too?”
“I was.” Time replaces his gauntlet, that sorrowful smile lifting his lips once more. “But that was a very long time ago.”
“And now you’re a ghost.”
He chuckles. “Yes, and now I’m a ghost.”
Link runs a hand through his bangs and blows out a breath.
“Okay, wow.”
“Is it really that strange to you?” Time lifts an eyebrow, quizzically. “You’re over a hundred years old, and you often travel with the spirit of your predecessor.”
Link tilts his head questioningly. “Wolfie? How do you know about him?”
“I have my ways.”
Link lets out an exasperated huff. Of course, he’d get the most cryptic ghost in all of Hyrule to guide him. Even Wolfie gives straighter answers than that and he’s incapable of speech.
But Time is gesturing toward the forest now, and Link can tell that particular question isn’t one he’ll get an answer to.
“So, shall we go?”
Link takes one last look at the path and then nods. If he can’t trust the ghost of a past hero, who can he trust?
“Lead on, old man.”
Emotion surges across Time’s face, then is gone faster than Link has time to identify it. He turns away.
“These woods are treacherous,” he says, tone suspiciously level. “Stay close.”
He plunges into the mist, and Link jogs after him.
“Treacherous?”
The only dangers he’s found here are wolves and stalfos. And given that he encounters those practically everywhere he goes, he’s more inclined to label them as incredibly annoying.
Time skewers him with a somber glance. “Those who don’t know how to navigate these woods are swallowed by them. They become stalfos, cursed to wander forever. The forest children have kept you safe from this fate.”
“Oh.”
Well, that certainly brings up more than a few questions and a good bit of discomfort. Suddenly, the fog crowding him on either side seems infinitely more threatening, and Link finds himself gravitating closer to his guide.
“So, how come you know how to get through here when no one else does?” he asks, pivoting on his heel as Time makes an unexpected turn.
The old man’s expression grows nostalgic. “I grew up here. Well, not here exactly, but the Lost Woods in my Hyrule aren’t so different from these.”
Link hums, thoughtfully. He hadn’t thought anyone inhabited this forest save for monsters, animals, and Koroks. But it’s not too hard to imagine that long ago in a different Hyrule this man called the Lost Woods his home. He navigates them with confidence and skill, almost as though the trees themselves are guiding him with silent, invisible hands. And if he were wearing green, Link suspects he would look like he truly belonged here.
“Is this your responsibility, then?” he asks. “To guide people through these woods?”
“No,” Time answers, calmly. “I am only here to guide you.”
Link goes quiet once more, mulling over that in his head. It’s one thing for the Champions, and Zelda, and even Wolfie to guide and protect him. It’s quite another for this man, only connected to him through shared destiny, to show up to aid him, and after all this time too.
It makes so little sense. Then again, he’s found that to be a sort of trend lately.
A blupee darts past them, and he watches it, almost idly wondering if he should take a shot at it. But then it comes an abrupt stop right in front of Time, looking up at him almost expectantly. Time pauses and reaches down to run a gentle hand over it’s head. The animal leans closer, emitting a small, happy sounding noise, and Link shakes his head in disbelief.
“They always run from me.”
As if on cue, the blupee stiffens, bright eyes locking onto him, then disappears in a puff of blue. Time turns to him, something almost accusatory in his gaze.
“Perhaps, if you stopped shooting at them they would be more inclined to stay.” He straightens and makes a beckoning motion with his hand. “Now, come, we’re almost there.”
Link follows him, feeling strangely chastised and a bit annoyed.
It isn’t enough to just be cryptic, apparently, Time has to be judgmental too.
“I don’t wanna hurt them,” he says after a few moments drift by and the need to defend himself still hasn’t gone away. “I’m just always light on rupees.”
“There are other ways of earning rupees, you know,” Time says, tone still infuriatingly level.
With a petulant scowl, Link goes back to plodding along in silence.
It’s not long, though, before the fog begins to dissipate, and Link can see the beginnings of a tunnel looming up ahead. Time comes to a halt a short distance before it and gestures toward it.
“We’re here.”
Link steps forward, almost hesitantly. After trying so hard to get here, he isn’t sure what to do now. The Master Sword awaits him just past these trees – “his birthright,” as Time put it.
But after his miserable failure, can he possibly pull it? Or will it deem him unworthy of another chance to save his kingdom?
He doesn’t even realize that he’s standing frozen, rooted to the spot, until a hand comes to rest on his shoulder. Jumping slightly in surprise, he raises his head to meet Time’s gaze. All judgment is gone now, replaced by something kind and understanding. He might, Link realizes with a jolt of surprise, even call it fatherly.
“You are equipped to rise to this challenge,” he says, firmly. “You have worked diligently to prepare for this moment. Now, it is time to claim what is rightfully yours.”
He gives Link the slightest nudge and he steps forward, heart in his throat.
He’s right, it’s time. But…
“And if I’m not–if I’m not ready for this…”
“The sword holds a strict standard, I know. But I have no doubt you will measure up to it.”
His hands are trembling, his stomach churning, but Link takes another step and another. The tunnel is like a gaping maw, ready to devour him, and spit him out bruised and battered by the expectations he can never meet. There is a pull too though, an indescribable feeling that draws him forth, as though he belongs here, as though taking these very steps was written in his history from the start.
As though his failure and all the consequences of it has all led to this, pivotal moment.
His feet carry him, his body moves for him, and it feels right.
“Go, my son,” Time says, voice fading into the mist, “and do not falter.”
Link steps into the sun.
It’s only when it’s all said and done, when the sword is in his hands, and the Deku Tree’s words are ringing in his ears, and the forest children are crowding around him, eager to meet his every need that he sees them. A gray wolf and a golden one sit a short distance away, cloaked by the mist, unnoticed by anyone save for him. And when his eyes meet theirs, there is pride in their gazes.
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