Chapter Text
The gates were closing before their eyes, slowly, but far too quickly for them to reach.
Their horses were lathering, eyes wide as they galloped, faster than Wild thought possible. He turned in the saddle and let loose three shock arrows, piercing through the Bokoblin flanking him. It screamed, the shock travelling through it to its mount, throwing it onto the hard ground. Wild heard a shout as Wind’s arrow struck true, and a snap as Hyrule unleashed yet another bolt of magic.
The hoard was drawing closer. Their mounts weren’t slowing, driven beyond exhaustion, beyond survival. Some of them even collapsed on the way. It didn’t matter. They had numbers, insane numbers. Wild had never seen such a large group before.
The castle bridge was rising, dragged back towards the wall with massive iron chains. It was too high for the horses to jump, now. The chain would need to use their tools. Wild heard the sounds of his brothers readying their hook shots, clawshots, whatever gadgets they would use to spring from their horses into the safety of the castle. He didn’t really have those. He wasn’t the only one.
“We’re not going to make it!” Legend screamed over the sounds of hooves and shrieks of enemies. “We need to turn!”
“Left or right?” Shouted Wars. There was a pause, just a second. “Time!” He bellowed. “Left or right?!”
“Left!” Time shouted. “We can’t risk Kakariko Village!”
The chain responded, guiding their horses to arc to the left. The hoard behind them reacted with confusion, some of them screaming forward into the moat, others pivoting unnaturally quickly to follow. Wild glanced behind. Stalhorses.
It had just passed dusk. They could hear the howling of wolves in the distance, echoing from the woodlands to the east.
Their horses were tired, were tiring. They were ranch horses - they weren’t warhorses. They were built for hard work. What they lacked in speed, they made up for in endurance.
It didn’t matter against a Stalhorse. They had nothing but light bones. They never tired, never faltered over rough ground.
But they would fall apart at a touch. Wild grinned, aiming carefully for the head of an approaching Stalhorse. The Bokoblin on its back was raising its sword at him, preparing to strike.
His arrow struck true, breaking the Stalhorse’s skull, sending the Bokoblin to a fast and deadly fall. One down.
He assessed again. The numbers were staggering. It was an army, and they’d need an army to defeat it. Or a miracle.
One of their horses screamed. Wild whipped around. Hyrule’s mount was falling back, clearly wounded. An arrow had burst from its flank. Wild spun around, searching for the archer, preparing to strike them down. The archers were their greatest threat - he’d been picking them off the whole time.
“Rulie!” Screamed Wind. “To me!”
Hyrule drove his poor mount to the side, quickly falling behind Wind. The young hero slowed his mount just a little and grabbed Hyrule’s hand tightly, activating his power bracelet. Strength coursed through him as he dragged Hyrule from his seat and added him to the back of his mount. Hyrule’s horse quickly vanished into the hoard. Wild fought back grief for the horse. No time. Need to focus.
This was an untenable situation. They were going to lose.
He fired off three bomb arrows into the hoard, watching them blast apart a dozen Stalhorses, throwing even more Bokoblins off theirs. He watched them pick themselves up off the ground distantly. They were leaving a trail of enemies behind them, enemies that would threaten this Hyrule unless they turned around.
Wind’s mount was struggling with its two riders. It was beginning to fall behind, too far behind. Wild joined them, turning to fire and seeing one Boko far too close. The arrow hit it point blank - but not before it grasped onto the flank of Wind’s horse. It screamed and stumbled but didn’t fall. Hyrule looked back in shock.
Wild decided. He slowed his mount further, falling behind Wind and Hyrule, falling in among the enemies. He fired off his arrows rapidly, taking out one, two, three Bokos point blank. Another had overtaken him and was approaching Wind’s horse - he shot it in the neck and watched it fall, tripping another horse.
This could work. This was working.
He stopped driving his horse so hard, focusing on falling in and picking off. Swords flew in his direction. He relied on the speed of his draw, on his accuracy. There was no room for error.
He watched his brothers start to draw ahead and grinned. Hyrule was shouting something back to him. Sorry Rulie. Gotta focus.
He ducked a blade and fired an arrow through a Boko’s mouth, so close he could smell its foul breath. Another approached with a spear - he let it graze his shoulder and fired down its length. The wound stung, but the spear tripped another horse.
Three more flanked him now. He drove his horse forward, drawing them out into a line. One. Two. Three went down.
His arms were tiring.
Wind was screaming at him now. I’m going to be in trouble for this later.
He had two options - drive his horse forward and continue to snipe from a distance, or stay behind the pack and draw fire.
In the swipe of a blade, it was answered for him.
The Boko wasn’t aiming for him, but aimed for his horse’s flank. It carved through muscle. The wounded horse screamed and staggered. Wild swore as it began to falter and fall behind.
The swarm noticed. They were on him in a second.
No choice. Wild put away his bow and summoned a spear. He stabbed out with force. The shock of the strike travelled back up through his arm. His legs tightened on the horse as she was jostled. Bad move.
The next strike was a throw. His spear ended up in a chest, gone now to the approaching crowd.
He drew another. Another. He needed distance.
He was being outrun, overwhelmed.
I’m sorry, Apple. He took a split second to stroke the horse’s mane before leaping from her saddle.
The nearest Stalhorse made its strange, muffled scream as it suddenly gained a rider. But it didn’t slow, or tire. The Bokoblin shrieked as it was displaced, clawed hands carving away at Wild’s forearms until his blade did its work. It dropped from the skeletal horse. Wild hissed as blood flowed down his arms. Doesn’t matter!
He shouted at his horse and dug in his heels. He’d ridden Stalhorses before - they were tricky to control, but he was a tricky rider. The horse was spurred forward, nosing ahead of his enemies.
Another Boko, too close. It swiped at him. He caught the strike on his shoulder and cried out. With a swipe of his slate, he manifested a sword and flung it back. The Boko fell from its saddle with a scream.
My bow. Need my bow. Wild hissed in pain through gritted teeth as he armed himself once again. Drawing arrows sent pain searing through his shoulder. He fired again and again, aiming for Stalhorse skulls. It was working. He was winning!
Whip quick, a spear flung through the air. He had no time to pull away from it, no time to block. It went straight between the bones of his horse’s flank, ending up in the ribcage. It might not have even hurt it, had it not hooked between the bones of the leg and the ribs. The horse’s next step forward came with a crunch and a snap.
The spear broke.
The horse’s leg broke.
Wild made a split second decision. He leapt from the saddle once more. The world slowed as he drew his arrows.
He had moments to think, moments he bought with his shots, with his limited pulling of time.
“It’s magic.” Legend had said bluntly. “You’re using time magic. I don’t know how else to explain this to you. What you’re doing is physically impossible. Which makes it magical.”
It didn’t feel like magic. It just felt like effort, like running, like swimming. It burned his muscles.
It didn’t last.
No, there were no options. No close horses he could jump to.
He fired an arrow. He watched it pierce through the eye of the nearest Boko. Slowly.
His glider would work - and he could pull it out. He’d done it faster before.
Another arrow into where the next Stal’s brain would have been. It crumbled, cracking. It would break when he next breathed.
Even gliding wouldn’t save his legs. He’d be downed in a second.
Breath running short. One more arrow. Last chance to think.
No choice.
He loosed. The arrow left a gap in the enemies, long enough for his landing, not long enough for safety. He flung out his paraglider, catching a second of air, slowing his fall. He let his knees go loose as he hit the ground. The impact still jarred, still ricocheted. He felt something t w i s t and
break
And he screamed.
He rolled helplessly for a second, winded, gasping. He scrambled up, shaking arms pulling back his bowstring.
A section of the army had pivoted towards him, weapons approaching in a gauntlet. He armed himself with bomb arrows.
Too close. He prepared himself to burn, and fired.
The shockwave of the explosion blew out his eardrums. Sound became meaningless chaos, dull and ringing. He caught fire, feeling it on his skin, on his tunic, on his useless legs. A hole had been carved in the enemy, blasted on every side.
Miraculously, he stayed conscious. He drew again, another bomb. The space emptied by the first was filling again. He fired.
The second bomb rattled something in his mind. He blacked out for a second, woke up, beat weakly at the fire licking his arms.
But something had changed, was changing. There were shouts, the sounds of weapons through the ringing. The horses were splitting, riding around Wild, over him. A hoof caught his wounded shoulder. He rolled out of the way of another. The army was breaking up.
The voices were foggy, but louder, the clash of steel and the twang of bowstrings and the screams of enemies filling the air. He blinked, saw another set of hooves approaching, rolled again. It was chaos, and he’d been forgotten.
He was dizzy. Getting dizzier. The next horse was hard to dodge. It clipped him. He sobbed.
Were they gone? It was getting very quiet.
He broke back into awareness as the weight of horse and rider landed on his broken leg. He didn’t have it in him to scream. He only had enough breath to gasp. Then he couldn’t breathe at all.
He closed his eyes.
.
.
.
He was burning, and freezing.
He felt something magically cool and heavy resting on his head and neck and arms. Blessedly cool.
But searingly painful. He moaned as they brushed burnt skin. Tried to fight them off. But the alternative was the fire, and he couldn’t bear that either.
He wished to sleep.
There was water in his mouth. He swallowed gratefully, begged for more. He drank greedily until it was pulled away. He sobbed.
He slept.
.
.
.
He was freezing. But at least he didn’t burn.
There was a cold-warm-tingling feeling passing over his arms, something familiar. He knew what this was, but couldn’t recall.
The raw burning agony of his skin had faded away, leaving a different sort of pain, a bone-deep sharp agony in his legs.
He tasted a potion. The pain ebbed.
He slept.
.
.
.
He was freezing. Freezing cold. He reached for the words, mumbled them to whoever could hear.
“I know, Cub, I know. I’m sorry. You have a fever. I know you feel cold, but you’re burning up. We need to cool you down.”
He didn’t understand. That was insane. He couldn’t get any colder.
He tried to open his eyes. There was something dark over them, cold as ice, heavy. He tried to lift his arms. Too heavy.
He slept.
.
.
.
He woke up.
He blinked, breathed. There was a roof above him, wood panelled, carved and painted. It was lovely.
He turned his head to see an embroidered cottage curtain concealing a white light. A window.
It took effort to look the other way, but it was worth it. Asleep on a chair next to him was Wind. His head was resting on the bed, a little drool seeping from the corner of his mouth. Wild wanted to ruffle his hair. He lifted his hand to do so.
Wind jerked awake at the motion, blinking sleep from his eyes. He looked at Wild, stared at him as though he had grown an extra head.
“Hey.” Wild said weakly.
“You son of a bitch! How DARE you!” Wind shouted at him. “You nearly died, you idiot!”
The door burst open, Legend and Warriors entering, wide eyed. Warriors let out a laugh of relief. Legend cursed.
“Hylia, Wind, why the fuck were you shouting like that? I thought something was wrong!”
“How long has he been awake?”
“I don’t know.” Wind turned to Wild. “How long have you been awake?”
“A minute.” Wild said weakly. “Where are we?”
“My home.” Time entered the room. He looked exhausted.
“Tired.” Wild uttered.
“It’s alright. You can go back to sleep.” He said gently.
“No. You are. You okay?” Wild mumbled.
The others looked at each other. “You freak.” Legend uttered. “You absolute freak. I’m getting Twilight.” He stalked out of the room, a small smile on his face.
Their voices turned vague. Wild drifted.
Hands were shaking him. Hyrule’s face was close to his. “Drink this.” He demanded. Wild didn’t fight, drinking down the offered water. It was delicious.
There was a buzz of conversation humming around him. He blinked, vision clearing again. He looked around to see every one of his brothers talking, laughing. They all look tired.
“Hey.” He croaked. Eyes darted over to him. Faces lit up. He blinked slowly. “Sup?”
“How are you feeling?” Twilight was beside him, voice anxious.
“Better.” He said honestly. “Not cold any more.”
“Your fever broke last night.” Sky smiled. “You’re a real fighter.”
“You’re a real idiot, you idiot.” Hyrule’s face screwed up. He sniffed, fighting back tears. “I thought you were dead.”
“Same.” He croaked. “Plan didn’t go well.”
“What plan.” Warriors’ voice was flat.
Wild grinned. “Improvised.”
There were groans around the room.
Time planted a firm hand on Wild’s shoulder. “Don’t do that again.” He ordered. “We almost lost you.”
“We literally lost you.” Four spoke up. “You were gone. We thought you’d been trampled.”
“Was.” Wild fought to get the words out. Things were getting very hazy again. He closed his eyes.
There was a hand holding his. “Sleep for a while, okay?” Hyrule murmured. “Next time you wake up, you’re going to eat.”
“Next time you wake up, I’m going to kill you.” Wind chimed in. Wild smirked.
“Night. Love you.” He slurred.
He heard sighs, felt his hand being squeezed.
“How many times is he gonna say that?” Twilight chuckled.
“Guess he must love us a lot.” Time sounded amused.
Wild smiled, too.
He slept.