YJ S3 Dick, still in the midst of his fever dream, hides underneath the 'souvenir' instead of behind some boxes, and accidentally opens the airlock trying to take care of the Parademons. The others get it to close... but not before Nightwing is thrown into space.
There, he stares at the ship holding his friends and mentors. There, he wishes more than anything that he can, somehow, survive. There, he tries to live, if only so his family don't have to bury him like Jason.
There, Nightwing dies, wanting to save everyone, even with the cold seeping into his bones far too quickly for a regular section of space.
Then, Dick opens his eyes to... Earth? There's a little house, and grass, and trees, but there's a bubble of green over it all. Outside of that green was an entire castle, one that looked like it should have far more support beams than it does for even a hope that it stays standing.
And the sky was swirling shades of that same green. It makes him think of Lazarus.
"Well, that's something you don't see every day." He whips his head behind him, a bit too fast for Earth's atmosphere, but it doesn't hurt him. Past the bubble of green was a blue-skinned adult in purple robes, the insides of a grandfather-clock fitted inside their torso, and a black staff with a stopwatch on its top. Beside them was a man with snow white hair, glowing green eyes, a crown of frozen fire dancing above his head, and the most galaxy-like cloak Dick's ever seen clasped to his shoulders. He's wearing... a hazmat suit? Maybe? The twinkling stars and odd lighting of wherever he is were giving him a bit of a headache.
But in front of those two, within this bubble, was...
"DICK!" Wally shouted with unrestrained glee, a blur overtaking his spot for barely a heartbeat before Dick's stuck in a crushing hug that he reciprocates once his brain stops feeling like its melting.
He doesn't know how long it took for them to calm down, but the man with the crown spoke up after a time, as Wally was still wiping their faces free of tears. "Welcome to the Infinite Realms, Nightwing." Dick barely even registered that he was still wearing his suit, but now it felt suffocating. "I suppose you're the one Clockwork was holding out for; There shouldn't've been enough Ectoplasm around you to form a Ghost, and your physical body's still in space. I can see why you like this one, though, Clockie," he states flippantly, turning to his companion. Almost like he didn't expect Dick to pay too close attention to what he was saying.
"Either way, there's two options for you." The man didn't let Dick swallow his tears and question anything. Dick's not sure if he's grateful or not. "First: Stay in the Realms permanently. You'll see Kid Flash whenever you want and learn to be a Ghost with the denizens of the Realms. Maybe find your parents."
"But..." Dick pulls away from Wally, keeping him at arms length, eyes flitting between them. The two outside the bubble were distinctly... ghost-like, so the mentions of 'Ghosts' make sense. But Wally looked... alive. A bit pale, a bit thin... but alive. Dick can't see any of his own skin to see if it was blue or tinted that way, but the Nightwing symbol on his chest kept flickering between its own blue and this 'Realms' green. "But--What about the others? What about you? Why can't you come home?" The last two, he focuses on Wally, because now he can feel a heartbeat beneath his gloves. Wally's alive. He's alive.
His friend just shrugs. "Something about their portals not fit for the living? I'm meant to wait for someone to figure out a permanent portal, but they won't tell me how long that'll take." Wally glares at the... 'Ghosts'? There was a heat to it, but it also seemed like this was a well-worn argument.
"The permanent portal was always an 'if', Wallace West. And that is entirely dependent on if Richard Grayson takes the second option," the clock Ghost--Clockwork?--speaks up. But instead of the adult Dick was expecting, there was an elderly Ghost in their place. Still with the time motif. Was that... more literal than Dick took it?
"Yes, the second option..." The crowned man glares daggers at Clockwork. The temperature dips below comfortable. Dick tries to blink the spaceship and stars out of his sight, withdrawing his arms from Wally to try and warm himself. Tries to remember he's not in space. "The second option is that you return to your body... changed. You'll be able to protect Earth better, stay with your alive family, save the Lost Ones... for a price."
Dick doesn't know if he should ignore the plural in 'Lost Ones'. He doesn't know if he's reading too much into how, in this Realm, apparently only his parents were able to be found. Where's Jason? He doesn't dare hope, but...
"What's the price?"
The man smiles and a ring of blue forms around his waist. It splits in two and travels up and down his body, replacing the cloak and whatever clothes he was actually wearing with a NASA shirt, worn jeans, and red sneakers actually duct taped together. The blue tint to his otherwise tan skin fades completely. His hair turns black. His eyes turn blue.
He was like a taller, slightly slimmer, way hotter version of Bruce.
The man walks through the bubble, but doesn't disturb the grass beneath his feet. "You become the Ghost King's vassal." Dick flinches away and almost hides behind Wally. "Not my idea! But, well... it is either this, or your permanent death."
"What does becoming a vassal do to him?" Wally asks, gently trying to stop Dick from breaking his ribs with how tightly he was hugging himself. Does he even have ribs?
"He gains my powers. Ice, electricity, invisibility, intangibility, flight... He becomes a Halfa. He becomes what I was, in life. Just... needing to make offerings to me, now and then. Something like that, at least. I give him powers, he gives me a chunk of, I don't know, chocolate once a week. Like a warlock."
Wally keeps talking to the man, keeps getting information that he knows he should pay attention to, but something in his chest screams to accept this deal, and he can't focus on anything else.
Nightwing can protect. He can return to life and go back to Blüdhaven, be the Vigilante they need. He can visit Gotham every now and then, help with cases and stop criminals from harming others. He can see his brother. He can see his friends. He can eat Alfred's cookies, and have little get-togethers with Babs and the Team--hell, he can argue with Bruce.
And all he has to do is... give an offering to this guy? The Ghost King? Every once in a while?
"There's no other price?" The King turns his attention to Dick. His eyes had shifted to a blue-green that almost hypnotize him. The green swirls, the blue forms and melts like snowflakes, and he can't look away.
He takes another step forward and Wally steps to the side. There was familiarity between them. Wally deferred to him. Dick can't quite tell why. Though, with how Wally hasn't once looked at Clockwork, maybe it's because he's... grounded? Are all speedsters in trouble with, what, the Ghost of Time? That... actually makes perfect sense.
"I'll be honest, Nightwing: You've impressed me." The weight behind the King's words lifts the ones that've been on his shoulders since he was nine. "You remind me of myself. Maybe, if I wasn't a Halfa... If I had a mentor... I could've been like you.
"Despite Clockwork's insistence over the years that I get back in touch with the living, I've held off. When he eventually suggested that I help create another Halfa, I locked him in his tower for twenty years. I didn't want anyone to go through what I had. But, now... I see that you won't. You can't. Even if you hide this deal--our shared powers... You'll still have people by your side. Strong people. Smart people. You can already handle yourself. And I'd love to see what you can do--who you can save--with my help."
There was maybe two inches between their faces when the King finishes speaking. Dick roves his eyes across the other's face, trying to find the common and familiar ticks that show lies and deceit and manipulation. All he finds is sincerity and genuine care.
Wally plays with his fingers from the corner of his eye, gaze hopeful as he looks between the two of them. Wally, who was alive and breathing and able to leave if he accepts. Eventually. Somehow.
Dick Grayson sends a quiet apology to his parents and hopes they will forgive him for being a little bit selfish.
"I accept."
He flings his eyes open. Above him, domino mask too wobbly to be properly secured anymore, was Robin crying and begging him to wake up. His hands were sloppily placed over his heart. Batman was trying to drag him away, the firm set of his jaw screaming grief.
Nightwing gasps once he registers his lungs burning.
There's a large cacophony of noise, multiple bright suits and people hounding over him, and the distinct artificial taste of slightly-too-much oxygen that the ship with the Parademons had. That he flew out of and died. He was still too cold.
Someone moves their arm beneath his knees and shoulder and Dick passes out.
(Dick 'Nightwing' Grayson dies in space. Ghost King Danny Phantom likes this too-human Hero. They split their souls in half, take one piece of the others, and all they know is that Phantom is now Nightwing's Patron Deity. Danny uses ice, for electricity killed him. Dick uses electricity, for ice killed him. They are opposites, and yet so incredibly similar. Clockwork was looking forward to when Danny starts putting off his paperwork to hang out with his new 'friend'.)
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The Pirate (Dad Squad)
EVERYBODY COME GET YOUR LINEBECK SOUP!!
Abel shook the strange feeling off of himself as they stepped through the gate created by the item. If it had led them here, that likely meant its twin had opened a portal to this land as well.
Blinking a few times to reorient after the brief kaleidoscope of light, Abel took in the sight of a bright sun, the smell of sea salt, and the sound of crashing waves. They were obviously by the ocean, though he had no idea where in particular, or what sea. He only knew of the Lanayru Sea, but tales spoke of other bodies of water that rivaled it.
Rusl walked ahead first, adapting quickly, eyes alert but face placid. Abel watched the Fierce Deity walk after him, unreadable as usual.
Something clearly caught their attention as they stood at the edge of the dock, staring. Abel peeked around them, wondering what it was, when he caught sight of the scene.
A ship was sinking. But it was moving towards them. Its deck had just been submerged, and its mast was all that was remaining. A man stood atop it, glaring ahead fiercely as if willing the boat to make it to the dock in time, but his posture was proud as if this had been planned all along.
What in the world...?
The mast managed to reach the dock in the nick of time, allowing the man to step off. He blew out a sigh, looking like his knees were about to buckle, when he caught sight of the group of men. He sized them up quickly, eyes widening a little at the sight of the deity, and then waved sharply. "How's it going? I'm just passing through. Gotta go now. Important things to do."
"Wait," Rusl interrupted, stepping into his way. "Can you tell us where we are?"
The man blinked, hackles less raised, confusion evident. "Where you--this is Mercay Island. How do you not know that? What, you get clocked by those red spandex wearing freakshows too?"
Abel immediately stiffened. "The Yiga were here?!"
"The who?" the man bounced back, looking even more confused as the wind whipped through his dark brown hair.
"It's a group of demon worshippers," Rusl explained. "They've taken our sons. We're tracking them. Where did you see them?"
The man's face flushed, eyebrows coming together in outrage. "They took someone of mine as well! And he's my best crewmate! Well, he's my only crewmate, but that isn't the point! I came here in search of a new ship to track them down since they--they sunk--"
Here the man sniffled, glancing away in seeming anguish at the lost of his boat.
"I'm sorry about your ship," Rusl said appeasingly. "But perhaps we can help each other."
The man hummed, crossing his arms and squinting at them as if he were debating the matter.
Abel started to grow impatient. "Do you want to find your crewmate or not?"
"Don't get short with me!" the man snapped. "I am Linebeck, captain of the seas, and I know this place better than anyone, especially you guys. I'm your only chance to find those freaks, so you're going to take orders from me now!"
The Fierce Deity picked the greasy looking man by the back of his coat, bringing him to eye level. The man, in turn, squealed, flailing his arms and legs in a desperate maneuver to get out of the hold, yelling, "LET ME GO, YOU BEACHED WHALE!"
Abel glanced at the deity, tempted to tell him to toss the man into the sea, but if he truly had seen the Yiga, then they unfortunately needed his help. Rusl just sighed, seeming to grow a little tired of being the sole negotiator of the group.
"How do you propose we find the Yiga if your ship has been damaged?" Fierce asked, silencing the man's squeals. "If I retrieve it, will you be able to repair it expediently?"
"Retrieve--it's sinking into the sea, you small brained land mass!"
Abel did have to almost laugh at that one. Rusl looked unimpressed by the man's impolite demeanor, but at least his insults were entertaining. Nevertheless, they needed to move.
Fierce seemed to sense Abel's impatience and Rusl's disapproval, casually tossing the sailor aside as he walked up to the mast. The man spluttered, shakily trying to get to his feet before promptly falling back on to his backside as he watched the deity singlehandedly start to pull the ship out of the water with a firm grasp at its mast. Abel heard the wood start to give, though, not tolerating the force it took to fight the water crushing the rest of the ship, and he put a hand on Fierce's shoulder. "Let it go. We'll have to find another way."
Rusl turned to Linebeck. "We'll work with you, friend, but not for you. Understood?"
Linebeck gulped, still trying to process what he just saw, and then he huffed, rising. "F-fine. Whatever. But I'm still in charge."
Abel felt his eyebrows pinch together. "That's not--"
"Let's go!" Linebeck announced, twirling around and marching towards the island. "I know just the ship we can acquire."
The three trudged behind him somewhat reluctantly. Abel bristled at being given orders from someone like this, but he kept his mouth shut for now. Instead, it was the sea captain who spoke first.
"So... what are all your names?" he asked as he continued to stride ahead.
The Ordonian answered first. "I'm Rusl. This is Abel, and Fierce."
"Fierce?" Linebeck repeated, glancing back at him. "Weird name."
"It is my title," Fierce clarified.
"Title? Who calls you Fierce? Fierce what, Fierce Breaker of Personal Boundaries?"
This man talked entirely too much.
"What's the plan?" Abel asked before the conversation could continue.
"That ship," Linebeck said, pointing towards a relatively large ship sitting in the harbor. "We can use that to track those scum."
"If you already had another ship, why were you perturbed at the loss of your other one?" Fierce questioned.
"It's not his," Abel surmised quickly.
Rusl smiled, rolling his shoulders. "All right, then. Who owns it?"
Abel glanced over at the Ordonian, a little baffled. He still hadn't entirely wrapped his head around what kind of work this man did - he was the most polite and kind of the group, easy with people, yet he condoned stealing in a heartbeat.
Not that Abel wouldn't steal if he had to, but... he had to. Rusl was... he didn't know. This just certainly was not the first time the man had done it, that was for sure.
And clearly, this sailor was more akin to a pirate.
Sighing heavily, Abel listened as Linebeck prattled on about some women "who won't be a problem," and the three men started moving steadily towards the boat.
Surprisingly, it only seemed to have two women aboard - Linebeck claimed that the rest of the crew was at the market. That at least made things simpler.
The four moved quickly. Rusl crouched low, leading the way and pulling out a dagger he hid in his belt. Despite being quite the swordsman, Abel had observed that Rusl often resorted to a dagger in close combat, and the more he saw it, the more he questioned the blacksmith's occupation. Fierce, on the other hand, left his hands open, likely not wanting to use his powerful blade on a couple women guarding a ship. Linebeck was also unarmed, curiously.
Sighing, Abel unsheathed his sword. He caught up to Rusl, and the two rushed up the gangway, picking a target and quickly overpowering them. Rusl never unsheathed his dagger, only using its small hilt to smack the woman across the temple, knocing her unconscious and covering her mouth as she fell. Her companion caught sight of him before Abel could get to her, yelling, but Abel easily tossed her overboard while Rusl pushed the other down the ramp.
Fierce walked aboard next, glancing around, while Linebeck sauntered aboard. The pirate's face was tight, as if he hadn't quite expected the ferocity the men had displayed, but he tried to cover it with a quick little, "Well done. Now we can depart."
"Not yet," Fierce said quietly, his voice in that low tone he used when stalking prey. Abel immediately went alert, whirling to find what he was looking at, when--
"Intruders!!"
Turning sharply, Abel saw a woman pointing from a door leading below deck. Within an instant, at least ten other women appeared, all armed and snarling.
"You said they were in the market!" Abel yelled as he readied for a fight.
Linebeck didn't reply, seemingly vanishing into thin air, and Abel only caught sight of his blue tailcoats slipping under a barrel.
"Did--did he just--"
"Not now!" Rusl snapped as their enemies charged on them.
Abel focused quickly, dodging a strike from a nearby fighter before parrying her blade and kicking her away to create some distance. Thankfully, he still had at least one functional shield left, and he quickly used it to block a jab from another enemy. Before he could retaliate, the two women were swept away by a... screaming woman?
Abel glanced to his right to see Fierce holding one of the fighters by her wrist and using her as a weapon to ram into the others. At his questioning glance, the deity explained, "The little hero usually does not approve of killing mortals. If these women prove problematic, I'll eliminate them, but for now--"
"Behind you!" Abel interrupted, pointing as another fighter tried to leap off the rail of the deck and stab Fierce in the head. The deity swatted her like a fly, and she rammed into the opposite end of the ship.
"Jolene!" some of the others shouted. Abel immediately perked up at the reaction - clearly this woman was important, maybe even the leader.
"Toss her off!" Abel ordered the deity, moving to intercept a few other enemies. He glanced to his left to check on Rusl and found the Ordonian starting to accumulate a pile of enemies who were on the ground writhing or motionless.
The former knight felt a swell of pride for his friend before looking back to see Fierce easily throwing the leader off the ship. As predicted, the others followed to check on her, leaving the men in peace temporarily. Abel put his sword and shield away to pull out his bow and arrows while Rusl pulled the gangway up to prevent them from returning. Moving to the edge of the ship, Abel nocked the arrow, aiming for a second before letting it fly. It sank into the woman's shoulder, making her scream in pain.
He nocked another arrow.
"Abel," Rusl interrupted, putting a hand on his shoulder. "The fight is over."
Abel continued to stare at his target. Killing her would put the rest of her crew into chaos. It would prevent them from following them.
Rusl's hand tightened a little, reassuring but firm. "Abel."
Sighing, Abel slowly lowered the bow and arrow. His focus was interrupted as he heard splashing, glancing over to see Fierce throwing the bodies overboard.
There was a scrape of wood on wood, catching the men's attention, and they all drew their weapons to see--
Linebeck, peeking out from under the barrel. "Oh, are they all gone?"
I'm going to kill him. Abel marched forward, eyes alight with rage, when he was held back by Fierce, who pinched the back of his tunic to prevent him from moving ahead. He turned to snap at the deity, but his words were quickly overrun by the pirate, who dusted himself off and continued, "Well done, then! We're ready to set sail! I'll man the helm."
As he moved forward on the deck, he scurried all of a sudden, filled with seemingly feral energy, and stood on his tiptoes at the railing, shouting, "THAT'S FOR ALMOST BLOWING UP MY SHIP TWO WEEKS AGO, JOLENE!"
Before anyone could comment, he rushed to set sail as if his life depended on it, guiding the ship out to sea.
Abel blew out a frustrated breath, and he felt Fierce release him. He kicked the barrel under which the pirate had been hiding, taking little satisfaction from it but having to get his anger out somehow.
Rusl took a moment to calm himself as well, though far less noticeably, before he walked over to the wheel. "So where are we going?"
"Bannan Island," Linebeck answered, eyes on the horizon. "That was the direction they went, towards the north sea. They also claimed to be going to a Banana Island, so I think they heard the place's name wrong."
Banana Island. Goddess. Sometimes Abel was almost embarrassed that these were his enemies. Though it simply proved that sheer numbers could cause enough of a threat, despite how idiotic they were.
There was silence for a while as Marcay Island grew steadily smaller. The adrenaline of the fight wore off, and Abel slowly slid to the ground, feeling his stomach grow steadily more upset at the tossing of the waves.
"Who are these people, anyway?" Linebeck eventually asked, glancing at Rusl. "What do they want?"
"They essentially want to see the world burn," Rusl answered, crossing his arms. "Somehow that involves taking our sons hostage."
Linebeck pursed his lips, debating some issue, and sighed. "Well, that's rotten luck. Good thing you have me."
"Oh yes," Abel huffed. "Where would we be without you?"
Linebeck didn't seem to catch his quip, or if he did, his rebuttal was interrupted by Fierce asking, "Why did they take your crewmate?"
Linebeck's face soured, and he glared ahead of him at nothing in particular. "Whatever the reason, Link can probably get himself of out of it. But... I need a crew. So I'm finding the kid."
Link?!
No. Surely not. There was no way this disgrace of a man had a Hero in his crew, and--
Oh goddess he did, didn't he? That would be why the Yiga targeted him.
"Our boys are named Link too," Rusl said, eyes widening a little as he came to the same conclusion. "Heroes of Hyrule, spread across time. I think they must be targeting them because they know they'd stop them otherwise."
"Heroes? Hyrule?" Linebeck repeated, staring at him. "My kid isn't a--I mean, he's--look, he's my crew, and... he's a good kid, but..."
The pirate bit his lip, staring at the wheel a moment, still and silent. Worry etched every feature before he shook his head.
"The Yiga will perish," Fierce assured him. "We'll find your child."
Linebeck flushed. "H-he's not my child!!"
"Right," Rusl chuckled, patting the man on the back.
Abel sighed, ignoring the pirate temporarily and looking at at sea. The horizon bounced up and down along with the ship, giving him a headache, and he closed his eyes. He wondered if they'd actually have any luck this time - all they'd found were scraps of information and cold leads. This attack seemed fairly fresh, so hopefully they could make it in time.
Ugh. Closing his eyes made the seasickness worse.
Thunder rumbled, catching Abel's attention, and he hastily opened his eyes to see dark clouds ahead. "Uh..."
"Are we going to sail through the storm?" Fierce questioned, staring at the abysmal weather.
"No sailor goes through a storm on purpose," Linebeck immediately said. "That's just suicide. Lucky for you, I'm an excellent sailor. We'll skirt around it - I don't want to lose too much time."
At least Abel could agree with the man on that. But still... even he, someone who did not navigate the ocean, knew not to get near a storm out in the open sea. "Are we sure about this? We should probably try to avoid it altogether."
"And give those sea vipers time to get away?" Linebeck growled, glaring at the clouds. "Ha! I, Linebeck, master of the seas, can handle this just fine! I'm getting my crew back, blast it!"
Well... he couldn't fault him for his determination, at least. But still... Abel sighed, hugging the wooden support rung under the railing, lightly bouncing his forehead against it. "We're going to die."
Abel's relatively mild quip felt more and more like a promise the closer they got. The winds picked up, the sea turning a sickly green, and Abel nearly threw up with how much they were being tossed around. Rusl nearly flew across the ship as one wave almost overturned them, and Fierce had to grab him by his shirt to save him. The three men clung to the rail desperately, occasionally getting beaten by walls of water spilling overtop them.
Abel looked to the helm worriedly, feeling completely out of control and petrified, only to see Linebeck standing firmly, holding the wheel with a steel grip. He glared defiantly at the sea, almost daring it to try its worst, confident and firm in his stance.
At the sight, the former knight had to admit he felt almost a little reassured.
Another wave crashed into them, and Abel watched Linebeck release the wheel a moment, letting it turn sharply, guiding the ship to ride with the wave. Then he grasped it, guiding the mast with gritted teeth as he fought against the whipping winds. Fierce pulled Abel close, shielding both him and Rusl with an iron grip to the railing so the waves wouldn't knock them off.
Honestly, with the way they were getting tossed, Abel would be surprised if they didn't capsize. He clung desperately to both the rail and the Fierce Deity, feeling the mythical being's strong arm pressing him and Rusl closer together. Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, some kind of finality or certainty in each other's eyes as they nearly flew over another wave, facing it head on.
They still had to find their boys. Abel had to get back to Tilieth. He'd survived a damn apocalypse, he wasn't letting this be what killed him.
Glancing up at the pirate again, Abel saw the same fierce determination on his face. It was a promise, and despite how Abel's entire world was trying to kill him, he took comfort in it.
Abel closed his eyes, his forehead touching Fierce's sleeve, his hand brushing against Rusl's as they both held on to the deity for dear life, shivering and trusting and letting go.
Hylia... I leave this up to you. Don't let me down.
He lost track of time. All he heard was the crashing of waves, like claps of thunder, roaring in his ears, making his heart pound. But slowly, surely, the boat jostled them less, the wind didn't howl as it had, and the ship rocked and bounced up and down like a hammock instead of feeling like an earthquake.
Abel opened his eyes, dripping wet, tasting salt and bile, and saw sunlight.
Linebeck smiled down at them, hands on his hips, looking triumphant. "Told you I was the best."
Rusl barked out a laugh, slowly rising while Abel continued to shiver in Fierce's hold. "Well, I'm certainly impressed."
"Are you alright?" Fierce whispered softly, his arm shifting to rest his hand on Abel's back.
Hesitantly, Abel rose, testing his legs, though his knees certainly felt like they could give out at any moment.
It was official. He despised sailing.
But he could recognize and admire skill when he saw it. "Well done, Linebeck."
The pirate beamed, postiively preening at the praise, and Abel found he couldn't hold himself together any longer, leaning over the rail and vomiting.
Linebeck cackled quietly, heading back to his original spot. "Well, it isn't for everyone, I guess. But I promise the rest of the way is less rough."
Rusl helped Abel sink back to the floor while Fierce grabbed some water at the Ordonian's request.
"You good?" Rusl asked. He was shivering too, just as soaked to the bone as Abel, but he seemed far better put together.
"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Abel asked hoarsely, somewhat annoyed and jealous.
Rusl smirked. "We all have our strengths. You're certainly a better fighter than me."
If you say so. Abel pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a little less nauseous, and accepted the water Fierce offered him.
The sun slowly dried everyone off as they continued to make their way to their destination. Eventually, Rusl, being the talkative man that he was, starting gently interrogating their captain while Abel leaned against Fierce with his eyes closed. The deity didn't mind, letting himself be a pillow, but Abel could hear fabric shift as he turned to listen in to the other two.
"How did Link become part of your crew?"
"Well, I was hunting treasure," Linebeck explained. "Link wanted to find the ship I was looking for. His friend, uh, needed some help. So we worked together. I figured the kid worked so well it only made sense that he stick around. He..."
Here the pirate paused, and Abel looked over at him. His eyes were cast downward, and though shadows pulled at the dark circles under his eyes, he had a gentle smile on his face.
"He's a good kid."
Fierce sighed quietly, barely audible over the breeze. "I must figure out why these Yiga are after our children."
Linebeck grew flustered. "I said he wasn't my kid!! Look, he's just a useful member of the crew, okay? Honestly, I'm not that soft!"
Fierce blinked, the slightest crinkle to his nose, a dead giveaway that he was bemused. "You speak of love and affection as if they are weaknesses."
"Wha--I--this is silly, I am a pirate, and--"
"And?" Rusl prompted, eyebrows raised, a mischievous, gentle smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. Fierce may not have understood the man's blustering, but Rusl clearly was just trying to mess with him now, seeing right through his bravado.
Personally, Abel was just a little exasperated by it. Men who pretended they were "tough" and nothing affected them all the time simply to show off annoyed him. He used to maintain a calm façade not because he was trying to prove a point, but because the last thing people needed was to see someone in charge panicking. This was different. This wasn't a way to keep others feeling safe and secure, this wasn't a means of protecting others, this was a pitiful attempt for Linebeck to protect himself.
Perhaps it wouldn't annoy him so much if he didn't suspect the man behaved this way in front of his kid too. He could act a fool to others, but if he denied his affection for his boy right in front of him, Abel did not approve of that.
But he didn't have to say anything. Fierce's innocent confusion would tear down his argument well enough.
Linebeck huffed, looking like he was scrambling for an argument, but Abel had to interrupt it when he caught sight of something. "Is that land?"
Everyone turned to look, seeing a small splotch of yellow and black andd green, and Linebeck laughed triumphantly. "There it is! Land ho! I told you I would get us there in record time! Now hold on, you sorry land slugs, we're coming in fast!"
He was true to his word as it seemed to take little time to reach their destination. For once, it was blessedly easy to find their target - a large ship with the Yiga symbol on its mast, painted sloppily as if it had just been done, was at the port. Linebeck worked to slow their approach, when Abel instead insisted, "Don't slow us down, just ram it - we'll take care of the rest!"
"There's a cannon on this ship," Rusl noted.
"We can't risk hurting the boys if they're aboard," Abel argued, shaking his head. "Just damage it enough to stop them from escaping, and we can board."
Linebeck nodded. "Just so you know... it's uh, all up to you once we get there. I'm a fantastic fighter, but I'm afraid my sword is on my own ship."
Rusl and Abel both stared at him dully. "Right."
The men prepared themselves, weapons at the ready. Fierce pulled out his double helix blade, making Linebeck's eyes double in size. "Geez, overkill much? Get ready, we'll hit them on the port side."
"The--the what side?"
"Port, on the port--ugh, on your left!!"
The three moved, and Linebeck snapped, "Your other left!! Left from facing the bow!"
Abel sighed heavily, positioning himself and bracing for impact alongside the other two. As the Yiga ship grew closer at an admittedly unnerving rate, he prepared to jump.
Their boat slammed the Yiga ship, impaling its hull slightly and causing it to rock so severely that they could hear some of the enemies screaming and falling into the sea.
Linebeck roared in satisfaction. "HAHA, TAKE THAT YOU BRAINLESS JELLYFISH!"
Abel let the momentum of the movement carry him, Rusl, and Fierce across as they leapt with the contact. The Yiga boat was still nearly on its side when they landed, causing them to slip a little, but Abel recovered quickly, decapitating the first Yiga in sight before moving on to the next. The team moved quickly, with Fierce taking out swathes of the enemy in one fell swoop while Rusl tore ahead. Abel scoured the area for signs of a leader, entering the underbelly of the ship as well.
When he reached the brig, he froze, breath stolen from his lungs. There was another gate there, its bright kaleidoscope dizzyingly swirling, and two Yiga stood before it, holding an unconscious boy.
Oh hell no! Charging ahead, Abel stabbed one Yiga quickly, kicking the other off the child before finishing him off. Rusl hastened in shortly thereafter, wiping blood of his sword.
"Anyone else?" Abel asked as he knelt down to check on the child.
Rusl shook his head, cheeks flushed, eyes aflame. He held up a booklet. "Found a journal log, though. Might be able to help us."
At this point, Abel honestly wasn't surprised, just exasperated. He supposed the Yiga's main purpose in being here was to take this boy. Theirs were still at large.
At least they'd spared this boy the same fate.
Fierce entered last. "The enemy has been eliminated."
Abel sighed, looking down. The boy in front of him was young, not even a teenager from the looks of it, though he was likely close. His hair was thick and wispy, golden as the sands and thick with mositure and sea salt. He wore a green tunic and undershirt, paired with white trousers.
"Link!"
Catching the men's attention, Linebeck rushed into the room, kneeling down beside the boy. His hands hovered over him hesitantly, face paling at the abrasions on the boy's face. At first his concern was genuine, but his eyes shifted to the dead Yiga around him and suddenly he looked woozy.
Abel fought the urge to roll his eyes. He motioned with his head to Fierce, who quietly removed the bodies. With the distraction gone, the pirate returned his attention to the child, considerably less pale but still oh so hesitant and gentle with Link.
The boy stirred, squeezing his eyes before slowly blinking them open. Abel could see the immediate sparkle of relief as the boy registered seeing Linebeck, and the former knight smiled a little.
Linebeck smiled in return, hands finally settling on the child, patting hsi cheek and helping him sit up. His grip settled on the boy's shoulders, and he took a steadying breath.
And then he started shaking him like a rag doll.
"You stupid sea monkey, what were you thinking do you have any idea how much trouble I had to go through just to get to you, they sank my ship, now we have to get a new one--!"
The other men stared, a little caught off guard, and then Rusl gently pointed out, "Easy, you're going to give the kid whiplash."
Linebeck paused, glancing at them, leaving Link nearly limp in his grip, eyes dazed and clearly dizzy. The pirate huffed, pulling the boy to his feet, and Link stumbled around a few paces before nearly collapsing against him.
Sighing, Linebeck settled an arm around the child to keep him from falling over, letting him lean against him. "Well. The job's done, at least. But... didn't you say your boys were missing too?"
Rusl smirked. "Ah, so he is your boy?"
Linebeck jumped, eyes widening. "W-wha--no, I--you're dodging the question!"
Rusl waved the booklet in response. "I'm sure this log will have valuable information for us. But you and your son should get out of here. We'll make sure the Yiga can't come back."
Linebeck was practically inflating with hot air to rebuke Rusl's claims about him and Link, but he instead stormed out. "Honestly, I rescue you ungrateful sea barnacles and you mock me. I'm leaving."
"You forgot your kid," Abel noted dully as the boy shook his head and steadied himself.
"Link, let's go, what are you waiting for!" Linebeck called from above deck.
Abel put a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder while Rusl smiled warmly at him. "Better get going, son."
The boy looked between them, adn then the Fierce Deity, and then he nodded, saying softly, "Thank you. Thank you for taking care Linebeck."
With that, the kid ran outside, and Rusl laughed. Abel had to chuckle at the ridiculousness of it all.
"Let's get through this gate and seal it," Abel suggested. "We can read the journal after we get out of here. The less likely they can come back, the better."
Fierce's reply was cut off by voices from above.
"Linebeck, look! It's Jolene's ship!"
"Of course it is, I stole it!"
"But then why is your ship over there?"
"What?! My ship was--that's my ship!"
"Oh! I think I see Jolene on it!"
"She fixed my ship? SHE STOLE MY SHIP??"
Rusl and Abel exchanged a look, and then they both snickered.
Fierce glanced hesitantly above deck, but Abel shook his head. "Leave him to his fate. Clearly this is not their first encounter, and they've managed without us. We should go."
With that, the three men strode forward, preparing for another adventure.
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As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version
Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].
So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.
This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus
Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.
So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.
Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺
ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.
I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!
That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.
For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:
(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)
Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:
(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)
Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:
(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)
Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:
and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...
(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)
And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!
Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:
(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)
And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:
(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)
Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.
(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)
But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:
(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)
Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.
These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.
(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)
Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')
And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:
But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.
It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.
Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.
All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?
The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.
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