#killed a lynel because i walked in on it and decided that meant it had to die even if i died too

[svtskneecaps]

ayo shoutout to revali for being the champion whose ability i have used the least since obtaining

[corpsentry]

ao3 mirror

fandom: age of calamity, botw rating: g starring: prince sidon and mipha note: spoilers for both games

"You know, Daruk’s my idol,” Yunobo says. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” Sidon says. He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands for long enough to look up blankly at him. "Mipha was my sister."

the age of calamity, side b.

The thing about time travel is, even if someone stands in front of you and tells you point-blank that there’s a way to bring your dead sister back to life, you’re probably not going to believe them.

“I don’t believe you,” says Sidon.

“Okay,” Teba says patiently, fluffing his feathers with an absent glide of his wing. “Try harder.”

Sidon stares at him. He tries harder, though he’s not sure what that entails and so doesn’t end up really doing anything. “I don’t get you.”

“Which part don’t you get?”

“I get to see Mipha again?”

Teba’s eyebrow twitches. “Let me put this as simply as I can, Prince,” he says, a little too loudly. The soldier stationed at the bottom of the staircase turns to look at them. “We’re going to go back to the point a hundred years ago at which the four champions were killed in their divine beasts. We’re going to save them. We’re going to make sure they defeat Ganon before he can send Hyrule into ruin. And then we’re going to leave.”

By now, they’ve caught everyone’s attention. It’s been a long time since a hundred years ago, but here in Zora’s Domain it still feels like the events of last Tuesday, to be recounted over salt tea and fish skewers, to be mourned over an empty coffin. Everyone’s staring at the big white bird with the angry eyebrows, a little curious, a little apprehensive. For what he’s worth, Teba is indifferent. This much will not faze him.

Sidon twiddles his thumbs behind his back, where Teba cannot see them and the guards at the bottom of the staircase can point and laugh all they want. To be honest, he heard nothing. His heart stopped when he heard ‘killed in their divine beasts’, at which point a watery monster punched its way into his skull and crushed his brain. The monster is nothing concrete, nothing crystal-clear, just what little Link has told him, bits and pieces of a history he was prevented from taking part in. It’s been several months since the kid dragged his beaten-up body halfway across Hyrule and kicked Ganon’s ass, though they’re still feeling the after-effects of that particular calamity today. Mipha’s statue still looms over their heads, a reminder of what it means to die alone and far away from home.

“So,” Sidon starts, hearing his voice echoing in his ears like metal slicing through air. “What you’re saying is, I get to see Mipha again.”

Teba looks like he wants to grab one of the guards’ spears and stab Sidon in the face, but for what he’s worth, he reigns it in. “Yes.”

“Okay.” He grins. “I’m in.”

::

He tried to fight a lynel when he was fifteen. The domain had been overrun with monsters who had arrived for the pre-party to Ganon’s return, including an outstanding number of wizzrobes, several moblins, and a tall, intimidating figure which spat electricity from its pink-tongued mouth and whose name he couldn’t recall. While his father, the king, and his sister, the princess, breezed through the area like a lightning strike, reclaiming keeps and stabbing moblins with silver teeth so their generals could forge a path ahead, Sidon reveled in the wonder of being left unsupervised at four a.m. in the morning. And then heard the familiar, haunting roar of a lynel. And then decided to go and say hi.

It was a mistake, of course. The lynel was so tall he couldn’t make out the gear on its back. Its face was all squished up, like a birthday cake that had been stepped on, and its horns were too big for its thick, blocky nose. This was funny for all of five seconds. Then the lynel extracted a bow from that unknowable space behind it and aimed the sharp end of an arrow at his face, and it became a problem.

“H-h-h-hi,” said Sidon, holding up his Kid Spear, which was strictly for Kid Use Only, and had the offensive capabilities of a stick.

“RHOOARHGHHGHH,” said the lynel.

He jabbed the Kid Spear at the lynel’s leg. The lynel spat at him, though probably unintentionally, as it seemed preoccupied with the arrow it was trying to send into his face. It was stuck. The big scary lynel’s bow was stuck.

Emboldened by the stupid scary lynel’s broken bow, Sidon decided to try again. “Please go away, Mr. Lynel,” he said in his best and most charming Kid Prince voice, twirling his Kid Spear like a sweet jellyfish skewer.

“RHOAHOARHAGHOGHHHH,” said the lynel, who sounded significantly angrier than before.

“I understand,” Sidon said politely, and then closed his eyes and sent a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way he had been taught to since he was old enough to speak, the way every child in Hyrule knew that there was a place for them to go to after they left this world behind). He braced for impact, which he hoped would be of the violent sort, earth-shattering and brisk enough to break his bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. He was fifteen, not five. This was Ganon’s era. Every living creature in Hyrule knew this, the way their ancestors woke up and knew which direction the sun would rise from. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When your people die. When the knight emerges from the woods with the sacred sword in his hand, and saves you all.

But none came. When he opened his eyes, and he did so reluctantly, adrenalin coursing through his veins like thunder, the world was pitch black. In place of the cool blue moon was his sister, her ceremonial gear glittering darkly, the Lightscale Trident glowing like a star in her right hand.

“Holy shit,” whispered Sidon the kid. Mipha stabbed the lynel in the face.

She hugged him when it was all over and they had put the moblins and the wizzrobes and the electric moblin (so that’s what it was! Terrifying) back to sleep. Their father was upset, but he was frequently upset at Sidon and so it didn’t bother him as much as it could have. Sidon was not Mipha. It was all right if he got things wrong, as long as his sister never did. Coincidentally, the Hylian princess had been in the area at the time of the attack, accompanied by a knight with blue eyes and a Sheikah warrior who looked like she would throw a knife at a fish for sport. It was a good thing Mipha had been at home, and not visiting one of the other tribes or hunting for crabs near Lurelin. It was a good thing she had intervened when she had, lest the pre-party become the real thing.

“Thank you,” said the Hylian princess, trying her best to smooth her brow and failing. She looked anxious, though she had only come to pass on her father’s word, though the word that she had brought was victory.

Mipha smiled at her with a face full of sun. “It is my pleasure.”

::

He wishes the egg could talk. If the egg could talk then Teba would have less reason to talk, and if Teba talked less then Sidon would have less of a raging headache, which which would make him less of an asshole, which would make their discussions go much more smoothly than the janky, sputtering mess they’ve been all week.

“As I was saying,” says Teba, continuing whatever train of thought he picked up on their way up to Goron City and then dumped unceremoniously by the side of the road. As he does this, Death Mountain spits a chunk of lava out of its steaming gaping top, which lands a few inches shy of his breastplate. He hops backwards without missing a beat and begins fanning himself with one wing.

Riju stops fiddling with the diamond circlet in her hands for long enough to give him a look of inquiry. “As you were saying?”

“I can’t wait to see Daruk.” Yunobo scratches his arm. It makes a sound like two large boulders grinding together. Riju drops the circlet.

“You’re only going to see him for a short while,” Teba comments over the sound of the egg blowing its top at Riju and Sidon plugging his ears with his fingers. “No point getting all worked up about it.”

“You’re just as worked up yourself,” Riju counters. Patricia barks. Teba flinches.

This is true. There are two things Teba won’t shut up about. In ascending order of importance, they are 1) when they should depart for the alternate timeline in which they will prevent their respective ancestors from getting their spirits trapped in giant mechanical monsters for a hundred years, and 2) how incredible Revali is. Because Revali was the most powerful Rito warrior that ever walked the land (or flew over it, or blasted bomb arrows at it, whatever). Revali singlehandedly invented an entire style of aerial combat which involves launching yourself into the air with an updraft that defies the laws of the universe and then setting your surroundings on fire. Revali killed god.

Teba looks like he wants to go back to his wife and kid in Rito village. Good for him. Not all of them have bodies to put in coffins. “I just want to meet him once,” he says quietly.

Yunobo laughs, and it sounds like two extra large boulders grinding together. “Me too, brother.” He picks up the diamond circlet from the floor and puts it on his head like some kind of weird hat. “I’m going to tell Daruk how great he is. And then I’m going to go home.”

::

One time when they were much, much younger, before he woke up one morning and Mipha was three times his height, one of the guards brought back some durians. The durians were misshapen and spiky and smelled intimidating, though Sidon wouldn’t go as far as to say that the smell was unpleasant. The guard had obtained them from a merchant in the Faron region. He hadn’t meant to purchase them, but they were the last of her stock and she said she could only head home once she had sold everything. He empathized her.

At first they tried to open the durians with their hands, but this only produced several pricked fingers and left ominous and eerily substantial bloodstains everywhere, so someone brought out a spear, almost drove it through the table, and someone else brought out a carving knife. Halfway through the spectacle of watching one of the guards, who was thirty-seven and enjoyed collecting glowing stones as a hobby, attempt to de-spike an entire durian, the crowd parted abrutpyl.

“What are you all doing?” Mipha put her hand absently on Sidon’s head. He had been watching the ongoing debacle out of some kind of morbid curiosity, standing on tip-toes so he could peek over the top of the table, though now he had apparently been relegated to armrest.

“Trying to open this durian, your highness.”

Mipha laughed. His sister’s laugh was a delicate, heartrending affair, like trying to pull weeds from the bottom of a lake without breaking them at the stem. The weather at home was always more or less divine, but whenever Mipha laughed, Sidon swore it blasted a hole right through the clouds. If there were no clouds, then the hole appeared in the fabric of the sky instead. Mipha, at her brightest, was a walking catastrophe of sun.

Still chuckling a little, like she’d been made privy to a secret that none of them knew about, Mipha stepped up to the cutting board. “You have to do it like this,” she said cheerfully, digging her fingers into a seam in the durian’s shell like she’d been dealing with danger all her life.

Cue gasping. Cue the horrors of childbirth.

The durian was sweet. It was also a little goopy, but Sidon was no stranger to things which stuck to your fingers and refused to let go (he was one of those objects when it came to his sister, who he could rarely be found more than an arm’s length away from on any given day), so he felt for the little spiky fruit, and decided that he would make an effort to bring some back home when he went traveling himself in the future. While he examined the inside of the durian’s shell, which had been hollowed of fruit and had the texture of rough sandpaper, the guards crowded around Mipha and demanded that she share her secret to not getting stabbed to death by the fierce and terrifying durian. But either she didn’t know how to explain it to them, or they weren’t very good at listening, because she remained the only one capable of cracking open a durian with her bare hands for many, many years, up until she died while fighting a watery manifestation of Ganon inside the divine beast she had been told by the king of Hyrule to pilot to victory’s end. Then it was someone else’s turn to take over.

::

Painkillers for fish are a tricky affair. To begin with, charmingly little research has been conducted into the biology of the fish-person because the Zoras simply aren’t interested in how their bodies work, and while others have offered to do so in their place, among them several enthusiastic Sheikah researchers and one Hylian with a thing for huge glowing orbs, his people have never cared enough to give their consent. It’s a unique kind of apathy, one which stems from a place of privilege, or denial. They are, as a general statement of fact, very good at both.

“This will help.” Yunobo hands him a rock roast. Where did Yunobo get a rock roast from? Sidon frowns. They’re in the middle of the desert.

“Thanks,” Sidon says. Smiles. Kind of, like, holds the roast up to his mouth and gives it a sniff. It doesn’t smell half as good as durian. He puts it down.

It takes him several days to make sense of the convoluted sequence of events that Teba presented to him that day on the front door of the world he had rebuilt from scratch, surrounded by mystique and glamor and promising, in a breath of cold air, to bring his dead sister back to life. This makes it sound like he’s finished making sense of it all and will thus never be confused ever again, but if he’s to be entirely honest, he still doesn’t get it. He wants to. He’s scared to. He won’t look Teba in the eye.

“We should get going soon, don’t you think?” says Riju, who is twelve and somehow more put-together than all four of them combined. She pulls another book from the shelf and leaves it on the pile on the desk.

Yunobo shrugs loudly. “Doesn’t make a difference when we leave, does it? We could leave for Hyrule in twenty years, and we’d still end up at the same place.”

“But I want to save them,” Riju says earnestly. The pile behind her has been growing all afternoon, and will soon overtake her in height if she is not stopped. Mission preparation looks like archaeological excavation when you’re traveling backwards in time, and not forwards to some yet unknown destination. Ancient Sheikah records. Research journals. The writings of people who were obsessed with the events of a hundred years ago despite having no personal investment to speak of, and whose words carry with them a hint of reverence, even as they choreograph the funeral song of the old king. This is all that’s left of those ruins, aside from Link, who they’ve all quietly decided to keep uninformed of the current proceedings. Hyrule itself has been kept in the dark. No need for them to know about the maybes and the what-ifs and the could-have-beens. No need for more people to go crazy.

Sidon shuts the book in his hands with a thud. “But why?”

Riju’s eyes go wide. Drama queen. “Why what?”

Sidon opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. There’s a heat rash on the back of his neck which he can’t quite reach on his own. The elders had warned him about the desert, but the charm he received from Link has proven to be effective in all areas except for maintaining good skincare. He blinks dumbly at Riju, who has begun to flicker like the glassy surface of a pond. His eyes hurt.

“I mean, why do you.” His eyes hurt. His throat hurts. There’s something large and horrible stuck in his chest, and he can’t get it out. “Why do you want to save them?” There’s a durian in his rib cage. It must have lodged itself there when Teba glared at him like he was an idiot as he came face to face with the cruel reality of the universe, and it dawned on him like a dead body falling out of the sky that he would get to see Mipha one last time, and then he would have to come back. To a Hyrule without her. To the stupid stuck-up world that had to try again and again and again, coughing up blood and dragging itself through the dirt on bruised knees, before it could defeat the monster. “It’s not like they’ll come back to life,” he says, each word a silver knife in his mouth. “They’ll stay dead here. They’re already dead.”

Silence.

Riju has let everything go, including the diamond circlet, the topaz earrings, and three volumes sheathed in gold. Yunobo’s mouth is open so wide, you could stick your head inside and take a look around if you leaned in close enough. For the first time since he met him, Teba is at a loss for words. His chest rises and falls erratically, his hand on the bookshelf quivering, his eyebrows doing a little dance on his forehead. He’s sweating. Of course he is. They’re in the desert.

Riju, Hylia bless her soul, is the first to speak.

“It’s the spirit of things,” she says softly. She looks sadder than any twelve-year-old should ever have to look. But then and again, Sidon was barely old enough to hold a spear with both hands when his sister died and everything went to shit. Then and again, everything goes away eventually.

Sidon stares at her helplessly for a moment, gulping the humid air of the library like a fish out of water, then gives up and walks out of the room. He spends the rest of the afternoon blowing bubbles in the pool beside Kara Kara Bazaar while the other three continue their work, and then buys a durian from one of the vendors and hacks it open with his spear. You can’t crack open a durian with your bare hands, unless you’re Mipha, in which case you can do anything. It’s a good thing, then, that she’s gone.

::

When they were children and they got into trouble, his father would always scold Mipha far more harshly than Sidon. Mipha was the older sibling, after all. She should know better. This dynamic remained firmly established between them even as Mipha grew into her role as princess, future ruler, and eventually, champion. Of course, the reprimandings grew less stern, but Sidon had a penchant for winding up in places he wasn’t supposed to be in and Mipha had a penchant for being with him whenever this happened. He secretly resolved to pay her back when he got older and was finally able to stand up to his father, and therefore explain that most of the things they got into trouble for were his idea. He would be the one to weep at his father’s feet while his sister looked on with a horrified expression, and in that moment she would understand how much he loved her.

Then she died. You can’t tell the story of Mipha without this part. Mipha was a humble, kind girl, and then she died. Mipha could crack open a durian with her bare hands, and then she died. Mipha was the pride of their people, and then she died, and she died, and she died.

You can’t change the past with the wave of a hand. You’re not a bird. You’re not a fortune-teller. You’re a fish-person with an empty coffin for a sister, and in a few weeks’ time, you’re going to save her specter.

::

“...What if I brought her back with me?”

“Huh?”

“Hahajustkidding. No way I’d do that. Not a chance.”

“Um. Do you need painkillers?”

“Thanks, but they don’t work on me. I’m over a hundred years old, you see. Us Zoras, we’re different.”

::

The day before departure. They’re back at Zora’s domain. It’s raining. Teba is running through a checklist of items to bring with them which is so long, he has to hold it above his head to prevent it from touching the floor. Riju is feeding Patricia mandarin peels.

“You know, Sidon.”

Sidon looks up from his mandarin. “Mm?”

Yunobo grins at him. “Daruk’s my idol,” he says proudly. He pumps his fists in the air like a kid at a fun fair in line for the big pirate ship ride. “They say he was the coolest Goron there ever was. Plus he had a beard. I think beards are awesome.”

“Great,” says Sidon, as enthusiastically as he can, because he genuinely wants to be happy for Yunobo who is finally going to meet his idol and has clearly dreamed about this moment for some time. He wants to be happy for all of them. He fucking wants to. This is a rescue mission, not the imprisonment Princess Zelda walked into in Hyrule castle, not the hundred-year nap Link took on the Great Plateau. This is a happy ending, even if it’s not theirs.

Daruk the idol. Urbosa the warrior. Revali the bird. Sidon pictures them in his head, the way Link described them to him once, his voice carrying across the water like beams of light.

“Mipha was—”

He stops peeling the mandarin in his hands, his nails still embedded in the soft skin of it, the white-tinged flesh peeking out like a wound. Outside, the rain keeps falling. A river of tears from the sky.

Yunobo tilts his head to the side. “Mipha was?”

Mipha was the pride of their people. Mipha was the first person he wanted to live forever. Mipha was the only one he knew who could crack open a durian with her bare hands, like she was peeling open the heart of a monster, only to reveal that it had been something soft and scared all along. Mipha was a flesh-and-blood person. Mipha was the light of their world. Mipha is an empty coffin with a name inscribed on the lid, a house with the lights off, a memory drenched in ocean.

Yunobo prods his shoulder, though he barely feels a thing. “Mipha was?” he repeats kindly, herding him along to the end of the line, to the boat at the edge of the water.

Sidon puts the mandarin away. He stares long and hard at Yunobo, and hopes that his eyes will convey the wound his body no longer knows how to carry.

“Mipha was my sister.”

::

Let’s say you’ve been entrusted with the future of your kingdom. There’s a bad guy coming, and everyone’s scared to death, so you learn how to pilot this big robotic elephant which shoots turrets of water like a machine gun, and you get really good at it, and when the bad guy arrives on your new friend’s birthday suddenly you can’t do it anymore. You’re trapped inside the giant elephant. You’re bleeding out all over the floor. Your chest hurts like something awful, and your vision is beginning to blur. Sensing your despair, the monster closes in on you, wielding that big blue trident like fury. It holds the sky up over your head, and as it does so you close your eyes. You send a prayer to the goddess Hylia (the way you have been taught to since you were old enough to hold your little brother in your arms, the way every child in Hyrule knows that there is a place for them to go to after they leave this world behind). You brace for impact, which you hope will be the gentle sort, a slap to the wrist that’s conclusive enough to break your bones and leave nothing breathing in its wake. You’re twenty, not five. This is the end of all things as you know it. Every living creature in Hyrule knows this, the way their ancestors woke up one day and knew that this world would come to ruin. Not if, but when. When the Calamity strikes. When everyone you’ve ever loved dies. When you walk into the mouth of the elephant, and the elephant changes its mind, and decides to keep you in its belly forever.

None arrives. You open your eyes slowly, hesitantly, fear a living memory in your bones, but you are not faced with the stinging end of a trident. In its place is a boy almost three times your height, his eyes glittering darkly, the spear in his right hand shining like a star.

He is not your brother. But, Hylia bless you all, he is.

So what can you say, when the evil has been defeated and you are standing on the balcony of the castle, smiling up at him through tears while this big overgrown baby stares at you like you’re the answer to the universe, except:

We’ll definitely meet again, won’t we?

He flinches, but you don’t ask, and he doesn’t say why. He pulls you into an earth-shattering, bone-crushing hug. It’s a beautiful day to be alive, the sun shining like sin, Hyrule’s beaten but stubbornly breathing carcass laughing up at you from the fields below. He takes your hands in his. He’s shivering. He’s shaking from head to toe.

Of course, he says in the kindest, saddest voice you’ve ever heard, though he has only come to pass on someone else’s words, though the word he has brought is salvation. From now on, I’ll always be by your side.

: : : : :

You smile at him with a face full of stars.

[linerwriter]

Crowding

What’s this? An angsty Wild fic? Why, who’d have thought!

Anyway, yes, this is a fic about angst and Wild. This is connected to Isolate, although I hadn’t meant to write it that way. It is also, weirdly enough, the longest fic I have written so far. (Also, there’s probably tons of mistakes, but I don’t feel like going through the entire thing, so if you find something, just tell me.)

Word Count: 2024. For the @linkeduniverse au. Enjoy!

The first thing Wild registered was the amount of noise assaulting his ears.

The gang had, for once, not been in Wild’s Hyrule, but was instead in Time’s. They had returned the day prior in the fields near Castle Town, and had headed to the town so they could prepare for the trip to Time’s house. By the time they got into town, went to the inn and reserved their rooms, the sun had long gone down, and Wild was out like a light by the time his head hit his pillow.

He had confidence that the walls of the inn weren’t as thin as they seemed.

He was wrong.

“Wait up, Avery!” The screech of a child was heard coming from outside, which caused Wild to hold his ears in pain.

Unlike the others, Wild was accustomed to silence and darkness. Because of this, his sense of hearing was forced to adapt to fit his surroundings. While it was helpful to be able to hear the vibrations being sent off from a lynel fifty meters away from him, it did cause his ears to be very sensitive, which caused extremely loud noises to be quite painful to him.

In short, he did not like towns. At all.

Forcing an eye open, he glared balefully at his roomate, Sky. Although Sky looked quite young, he slept like the literal dead, which made waking him up almost impossible, so Wild was unable to complain about what was happening, like he very much wanted to. He huffed, It’s only for a few days. You can keep it together for that long.

With a resolute nod, he got up and out of bed, dressing himself quickly. It was time to show everyone that he was a hero for a reason.

---

Nevermind, Wild thought to himself miserably, I can’t do this.

It was only a few hours later. Weirdly enough, the week the group was dumped in Time’s Hyrule, there was a festival going on in Castle Town. An incredibly loud one. With music. And dancing. And screeching children. Was it obvious Wild was a little uncomfortable?

Now, Wild was used to pain. He tolerated it daily during his quest, so he could deal with the pain it dealt to his ears. The root of his problem was, in fact, the amount of people surrounding him at all sides, all vying for his attention because people found his scars incredibly attractive, and he was worried they might just have to kill him for them.

Small groups, he could do. One on one conversations? Fine, fine, as long as it didn’t carry on for too long. An entire crowd of people, all crushing in on him until he went into a small ball? Sorry, bud, but that’s where he drew the line.

What is this thing even for? Wild despairingly hung his head. Something about pancakes?

When he lifted his eyes, he saw Warriors having the time of his life. All of the Links with noticeable armor or accessories had taken them off in favor of not scaring the civilians half to death, so Warriors was wearing a simple brown tunic from Twilight and his blue scarf. He was busily chatting with ladies, attracting more and more every second like the good center of attention he was. To Wild’s left, he saw Wind playing some fair games with Hyrule and Sky while Legend snarked about them in the background. To his right, Wild saw Four and Twilight talking to a blacksmith about something, probably weapons or armor.

Wild sighed, pulling his hood over his head in hopes of being left alone. Scurrying around the crowd forming near him, he scampered over to the entrance of an alley near the square. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, tapping his fingers against them nervously. Whenever someone came too close for his comfort, he unconsciously hunched in on himself, his eyes darting back and forth shiftily.

For a few minutes, he felt he was fine. He was away from the crowd and its loud noises and small openings. He was safe.

Until a hand clapped his back.

Wild jumped straight into the air like a startled fairy. Nimbly, he turned around and backed away from his offender, sighing in relief when it was just Time. Then, he groaned inwardly. Of course it’s Time. He probably thinks I don’t like his Hyrule.

“Hey, Time,” Wild started off nervously, his voice so quiet Time could barely hear him. Thankfully, he was used to Wild’s behavior at this point, so he simply smiled.

“Hello, cub,” he responded. He jerked his chin toward the square, “Enjoying the festivities?”

Wild nodded his head hastily, “Oh, of course! I was just taking a breather, then I was gonna-”

“Hey, Wild!” Wind suddenly shouted from beside a ring toss game. Wild spun around, a fake grin plastered on his face. “Come join us! You too, Time!”

Time chuckled, “We’ll be right there.” He slapped Wild on the back, causing the young adult to stumble awkwardly. “Come on, I’m sure there’s something you’ll like.”

Contrary to what his wife said, Time was very observant. He was the first one to notice when someone wasn’t feeling quite right, or was going to step right into a trap. This naturally extended to when someone was feeling anxious, like right now.

As much as Time would like to just scoop Wild up and transport him to his ranch, he didn’t know what Wild would say. Maybe Wild did like the festival, and would forget about his insecurities after an hour or two of fun with familiar people. Or maybe Wild was taking a break, and was getting ready to go back out there and have fun. As cool as it would be, Time couldn’t read Wild’s mind, so he had no clue what was going through it at that moment.

Wild, meanwhile, was panicking. It was safe to say that, unless a miracle happened, he was gonna be forced to be in that mass of people, constantly moving around to dodge an incoming person. Mentally, he shivered as he walked over to where Wind was waving at them. Legend stood off to the side, coming closer to punch him in the arm when he arrived.

“Look who finally decided to show up, huh?” Legend remarked snidely. “Nice to finally see your face around here.”

Outwardly, Wild laughed, “Yeah, guess I’m feeling a little tired.” Inwardly, though, Wild was sighing. I try to do one thing with them, he thought, and they end up teasing me about it.

Back in Wild’s hiding place, Time was frowning. He saw the whole thing occur, saw the subtle shift in tension with Legend’s remark. He saw the faint cloud that seemed to follow Wild around, warning people to stay away from him. He closed his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. Guess there’s nothing I can do for now. Let’s check back in a couple hours.

A while later, and Wild wasn’t feeling any better. He had slowly shifted from group to group, playing a couple games with Hyrule here, talking about swords with Four there. The entire time, the anxious feeling Wild had been hadn’t gone away; it seemed to have gotten worse, making him a hair’s breadth away from a panic attack.

And it’s only noon, Wild looked toward the sun, there’s still another hour before break. He closed his eyes and released his breath. At least I’m finally alone.

“Wild?”

Wild’s eyes shot open at that. It was Warriors. He held his breath in for a few seconds, letting it out slowly before answering. “Yes, Warriors?”

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” Wild shot a sunny smile toward his friend. “What do you need?”

Warriors looked at him with an unreadable expression. “I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out, since you’ve done something with everyone else so far.”

“Of course!” Wild said cheerily. “What do you have in mind?”

Warriors gestured toward a group of women behind him, “I have some friends who wanted to meet you. Say hello, ladies!”

Taking that as their cue, the women swarmed Wild. They pulled his hair, grabbed at his clothes, did anything to invade his personal space. Wild, already so close to his breaking point, nearly reached it, if it weren’t for the fact that he didn’t want to upset the girls who, quite honestly, didn’t mean to make him feel uncomfortable. “Wait-hang on-I never agreed to this-”

It took awhile for the young women to disperse, and at that point, Wild was close to tears. Warriors, smartly, said, “So? Whaddya think?”

In response, Wild stared. He stared and stared, water prickling at the corner of his eyes, before storming off. To where, he didn’t know, he just knew he needed to get away.

His exit subsequently brought him to a church on the edge of the town. It seemed like it was the only place with natural wildlife, with its abundance of flowers and trees growing. And, blessedly, it was quiet.

A buzzing he wasn’t even aware of went away, and he was finally able to truly breathe. He broke into sobs, rubbing at his eyes desperately to stop them from falling. “Why can’t they just leave me alone?” He moaned to the sky. “Why can’t they understand?”

“Wild? You okay, cub?”

Wild gasped. In his hurry to get away from the festival, he didn’t realized he was being followed- and by Time, no less. He hastily wiped his face and faced his friend. “Yeah, I’m fine. Totally.”

Time raised an eyebrow, his eye roaming up and down Wild’s body. “Uh-huh,” he muttered, unconvinced, “and I’m the queen of Hyrule.”

Wild deflated. He sat down on the grass, “No, I guess I’m not fine.”

Time rolled his eye, “‘I guess I’m not fine,’ he says. Last I checked, you were this close to a panic attack.” He pinched his fingers together.

Wild gathered his legs to his chest, shrugging uncomfortably. Time sighed, sitting down next to him and gathering Wild in a hug. Wild let him, melting into the contact effortlessly.

“It’s okay to feel anxious,” Time said softly, “It’s okay to feel like there’s too much going on around you, to feel like everything is crowding in on you.” He turned toward the weeping child. “Has Twilight talked to you about this before?”

Wild nodded into Time’s side. His voice came out muffled, “It was when Legend tried to get me to join them in play-fighting, after dinner. Twi said to just leave and get away from it, and I’ve tried doing that, but I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

Time’s eye softened, “Oh, cub. You could never disappoint us. And if they do feel that way, then they don’t deserve to know you.”

“Are you positive?”

“I am absolutely positive. Now,” Time looked at Wild expectantly, “why’d you leave Warriors in a huff? He’s quite worried about you, you know.”

Wild shrugged again. “It was the same as last time, ‘cept worse. Too many people I don’t know or trust, and lots of loud noises. Didn’t want to leave suddenly, so I stayed.”

Time considered this. “Would it make you feel better to leave ahead of us, so you don’t have to stay in town for the rest of the festival?” A slow, hesitant nod. Time smiled warmly, “We can do that.”

“You sure? I don’t want to make you guys worry.”

“Rule number one to good mental health: care about yourself first, then others. Never make someone else’s life more important than your own. And besides, if you don’t feel too up to being alone, Twilight will come. I know he’s been itching to get out of the town, just like you.”

“Really?” Wild’s head shot up.

“Really.” Time answered honestly. “He’s never been one for the big city, for multiple reasons.” The last part was said dryly, making Wild giggle. Time looked down at the boy’s mess of blonde hair, blowing in the breeze. “Ready to go home?”

Wild looked up at his friend. “Ready. Let’s go.”

[ratralsis]

So I’m still playing Breath of the Wild. It’s funny to me to see how my play style apparently differs from other people’s, so here’s what I’ve done and in what kind of order.

From leaving the great plateau, I wanted to get all of the map filled in as quickly as possible. This means climbing all of the big ol Sheikah Towers scattered around and registering them. So I made that my top priority. I followed the main quest until I got the upgrades for the Sheikah Slate, then started exploring.

I found the first two pieces of the Climbing armor, and looked up where to find the third. I forget which one was the third. I know I got the second one from a shrine on a tiny island in the southeast, which I got to using the ice rune and a lot of patience. I bought the stealth set and I use it a lot for gathering items. It is invaluable for picking up lizards, fireflies, and fairies. And even for just running up behind birds and pigs and killing them with a melee weapon.

During this, of course, I was trying hard to clear every shrine I stumbled upon, but I wasn’t pulling out a guide and going through them like a checklist.

I realized as soon as I got the first great fairy unlocked (which took me a couple of days, because I had no interest in going back to Kakariko Village) that I was going to need a list of all the items I’d need to upgrade my stuff. So I made one in a spreadsheet, then added a second page to do some math on it and a third page that just lists every item and the number needed to get every upgrade. So I knew, for instance, that I’d need 24 fireproof lizards to fully upgraded everything. So once I had 24, I could use any more that I found for making elixirs or selling them for money.

I’m getting ahead of myself, though. I didn’t get the lizards right away. First, I unlocked two more great fairies. Then I made and sold a ton of food, bought the Hylian Armor set, and upgraded each piece three times. It became my go-to armor set for tough battles with its 36 armor bonus, but, with only seven or eight hearts, I could still die in one hit if it was a bad one. I spent some time doing snow bowling and got about 13,000 rupees. I can’t always get a strike, but I can get one most of the time. Don’t bother telling me a sure-fire trick to doing it. I know several. The one I have the best results with is still only effective about two thirds of the time.

I went back to collecting Sheikah Towers. I got the last one and decided to get the fourth great fairy, along with the horse fairy. I did the horse fairy first, then headed into the desert to get the fourth great fairy. Still with eight hearts.

By this point, I’d killed enough Talos and Hinoxes that I wasn’t scared of what might be in the desert. I’d only seen a couple of Lynels, and fought neither of them. One shot at me from hundreds of feet away, and nearly killed me. Definitely made me run out of fairies. I also had the Snowquill Armor from visiting​the Rito Village, but hadn’t gotten any heat resistant or fire resistant armor. Hadn’t visited the Gorons yet. Wasn’t sure how to get to them, since I kept bursting into flame every time I tried.

I got the fourth great fairy using some heat resistance boosting food, then, using what money I had left over, I bought the Gerudo Voe Armor. I got thrown out of the Gerudo town for wearing it (I incorrectly assumed that speaking to their leader meant I had permission to be there) and left.

I decided to start trying to collect shrines and armor crafting items in earnest. So I did that for a while, and, once I had my first couple of fireproof lizards, tried making an elixir using one and got a potion that let me walk up to the Goron village. It only took one, but I actually made three potions just in case. Each one lasted a bit over 7 minutes.

Buying the Flamebreaker Armor bankrupted me: I had 60 rupees left. I felt pretty lucky about that one, since I also had about ten seconds left on my potion.

I picked up the Rubber helmet at some point, but neither of the other two pieces of that set.

Back to getting shrines. I wanted the Master Sword pretty badly, and didn’t have the required number of hearts. I could have stopped five shrines earlier than I did, because I didn’t want to remove my one stamina boost for another heart (would have saved me four shrines), and there’s a shrine right next to the damn sword (would have saved me a fifth).

Once I had eleven hearts and 8 spirit orbs, I grabbed the memory that’s in front of Hyrule Castle. No spoilers, I guess. I liked seeing it. This allowed me to get the Champion Tunic from Impa, but I could only upgrade it once. It requires items from the three big old dragons, and while I’d seen all three of them in my travels, I hadn’t been able to shoot any of them and didn’t even realize I was seeing the blue one when I did (if you don’t know what I mean, don’t worry about it, I just mean he’s kind of hidden).

Then I was off to get the Master Sword. I still hadn’t done any of the four main dungeons or even spoken to most of the leaders of the villages. This is how I play. I like exploring. If you tell me there are sidequests I can do, I will want to do them first.

The game is punishingly difficult if you do this. I found that out the hard way. I don’t mind difficult. I’ve said that before. I did mind a lot of things in the journey I took, but I knew it was all self inflicted and that I could have stopped at any time. I don’t regret it, and this is how I’ll play it if I ever do it again.

I don’t have the Zora armor, because I haven’t talked to the Zora leader to get it. I don’t have the Ancient armor, because I’ve never seen the lab that sells it, let alone visited it. I don’t have the Barbarian armor, because I didn’t stumble upon the shrines that have it. And I don’t have the Radiant armor or Soldier armor because I just haven’t bought them yet.

But I will. I’ll get them all. Eventually.

But right then, getting the Master Sword, I felt pretty goddamn good. It felt like it meant something. It felt like it had real weight, real significance. As a weapon, it’s lackluster. It’s fairly powerful, but it wears out fast and then takes ten fucking minutes to recharge. It IS, however, a fucking blast to use its beam attack to kill deer and birds. Just the best.

And it’s oversized, which is minor, but makes me happy. The Master Sword has always been overly long, from its first appearance in Link to the Past. In Wind Waker and Twilight Princess, it was almost comically long. If you’ll recall, I also said I wasn’t super happy with how the sword was retrieved in either of those games. It felt incidental to the main plot. You needed it, so you just got it. It was just the next tool that you needed, like the hookshot.

In Breath of the Wild, you don’t need to get the Master Sword. You only get it if you want to get it. And when you get it, you learn about its significance to Link’s past. You see how it was placed where it was placed. You see how it was damaged and chipped. It isn’t when you get it, though. It got better. It was waiting for you. Not waiting for the next legendary hero who needed it–waiting for you, specifically. Picking up the Master Sword and swinging it around after eight days of wandering all over the map and doing a bunch of sidequests made it feel like I’d worked hard to get it, because I had. It wasn’t just the next thing on the checklist.

I’ve loved the Master Sword for nearly twenty years, since Ocarina of Time (I played Link to the Past before that, of course, but the sword just felt like a pretty cool sword before then). It bothered me to see how it was dismissed so casually in recent years. Breath of the Wild does a lot of things wrong, but it does the Master Sword right, and that goes a long, long way.