Hello my lovelies! I aplogize for my long absence. With my mother having had hip surgery, I had to help her around the house. Then school rolled around and I was constantly busy with back to back homework. It is certainly frustrating, but if you could be patient with me and show a bit of support, it would be much appreciated, though I don't expect it.
Without further ado, enjoy my lovelies!
-WingedIceWolf
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!
He took a deep inhale of the cool, crisp Autumn air, exhaling slowly into the night. Stars twinkled above him and crickets chirped while frogs croaked, filling the hours of darkness with nocturnal life. It was nights like these that he could lay back and watch the stars, try to let go of his daily struggles, but it had never been easy since his beloved Midna had left his side.
The steed below him tossed her mane and rumbled gently, a deep vibration going through her barrel like chest. He reached a hand down to scratch her behind the ears, receiving yet another deep rumble of pleasure in response.
"Shall we be heading back, girl?" he asked gently, whispering into her perked ears. The mare neighed and turned, her hooves clicking against the dense earth, but suddenly halted in her tracks, leaving her rider confused. "Is something wrong…?"
It was then he noticed.
The frogs and crickets had both stopped their croaks and their chirping. Suddenly, it was as if death itself had swept through Hyrule field; everything fell entirely silent. Even the sound of the soft breeze wafting through the trees had ceased.
Both the rider and his horse ceased, not daring to make a move. His ear twitched twice, much like a cat's, able to sense something rather off, though he could not quite place it. He squinted into the night, his sapphire eyes scanning the area around him.
All he could see was trees surrounding them, stretching their branches out to the heavens. He and his steed usually passed through this particular route that weaved through the woodlands, so he was confident he could pick out any oddities. Tonight, however, there were none he could easily discover. Perhaps it was something in the air?
He again took a deep intake of the air, the coolness of it actually rather refreshing. But cool or not, there was something definitely evident that had glided through the air, a scent he was all too familiar with. The scent of blood…
His ears perked back low, thoughts turning in his head, his heart racing in fear.
What if someone is hurt…?
What if it is an injured animal…?
What if it is an enemy…?
Should I investigate…?
He sat in his saddle, contemplating his options and what course of action he should make. Slowly, the crickets and frogs started back up again, but not as loudly as they had before. He felt himself relax in his saddle, yet his body remained somewhat tense, all the more alert.
The mare had not moved, yet her ears were swiveling, scanning the area this way and that, prepared to bound away should her rider be in danger. However, the more she focused, the more she felt that she was indeed not endangered, nor was her rider. Feeling his tenseness upon her back, she shifted her weight and neighed gently, trying to ease him.
Her rider slowly swung his legs over her sides and dismounted, nearly silently, allowing his keen senses to follow the scent of the blood. He planned each step and breathed slowly, despite his thundering heart, not wanting to alert anyone or an enemy if it indeed did turn out to be a foe.
Walking on the edges of his feet and avoiding any fallen leaves or dead branches, he came to the area where the scent of blood was most potent. Now, his body became more and more tense as he felt a presence brush against his consciousness.
It was barely there, but there definitely was something nearby.
Or someone.
Whatever it was, the presence continually nagged at him, but as time passed, it grew weaker and weaker. He stepped forward, searching for the source of the scent, carefully maneuvering around trees and stepping through grass. Finally, he saw what had caused the scent to so heavily infiltrate the air.
In the clearing where tall oak trees had stretched overhead like a canopy, a figure lied in the grass, nearly still. The rider's breath caught in his throat and he nearly fell silent, his eyes fixated upon the being, again, the questions turning in his head.
Is it alive…?
Is it going to attack me…?
Who is it…?
What is it…?
He stood frozen for a few seconds, but curiosity got the better of him. He took a step toward the figure, holding his breath, gently nudging it with his foot. He received no response. The rider whistled, his steed came trotting up to him, neighing and keeping close by, which provided comfort for her rider. He was trembling from both shock and nervousness, though he tried to not let it show.
He crouched carefully and cautiously, reaching out his hand to touch the figure, but quickly retracted when he heard a very faint groan of pain. The groan was not familiar, so it was no one the rider knew, but regardless, he needed answers to the questions that never ceased to run in his head.
As he peered more into the darkness, he could barely make out a form with broad shoulders, long pointed ears, and tattered clothing. That much he was sure he could see, but the darkness was otherwise hindering his process.
He managed to turn the figure over, expecting to be attacked, quickly leaping back out of instinct, but the figure did not leap up to strike at him. Hesitantly, he crept back to the figure's side and extended his hand, placing two fingers to his icy neck.
Immediately, beneath his fingertips he felt a warm liquid coat them. He didn't have to sniff it or look to know that it was blood, but he continued to feel for a pulse, finally being met with a slow throb beneath his skin.
Absent mindedly, he let out a sigh of relief as the figure's eyes fluttered open, though they could not be seen in the darkness. The rider felt the small motion, trying to gather himself, not wanting to sound scared and afraid, even if that was the case. The figure tensed beneath his fingertips, his ears twitched faintly, but nothing more.
"You are going to be alright," he spoke gently. "I promise I will take good care of you…"
The figure's eyes slid closed and he dropped limp, lying in his growing pool of blood. It was uncertain to the rider for how long he had been lying there, at death's doorstep, but right now, that didn't matter. There was one thing in his mind and one thing only. This young man needed help. Immediately.
The mare bowed her head and lowered, sensing her rider's thoughts of urgency. He turned back to the figure and hesitantly slid his arms beneath him, lifting him into his arms, surprised immensely by how light he was. His surprise was cut short as he was met with a scream of agony.
The rider grimaced and cringed a bit but managed to get the young man onto his steed. Carefully, he climbed on himself, placing himself behind the figure, wrapping his arms around him to clutch onto the reigns. In doing this, the risks of the young man falling from the saddle were much more slim.
With a "Hyaa!" from her rider, the mare sprang into action, galloping away, her hooves thundering against the ground as everything around them became a blur. He held onto the reigns more tightly, still trembling, able to feel crimson soaking his own clothing from the wounded young man.
The steed moved quickly to the south and with much haste. The figure groaned, curling in on himself slightly and shuddering. As the rider thought about it, his ears lowered more, not taking note that the figure was probably freezing due to blood loss and his tattered clothing.
He had never really been bothered by the cold, and even now, wearing his Ordon clothing, he wasn't bothered by the chilled air.
After what felt like hours of zipping through the fields and weaving between paths, they came to a narrow, wooden gate that sectioned off the Southern lands from the rest of Hyrule. He had to dismount to open the gate, slipping a key from around his neck into the lock, turning it with a click. The gate doors swung open and the steed proceeded while her rider closed the gates behind them, locking it.
They now stood in a small area where a rock acted as a seating area and a pot lied upon a fire, but the once-lit flames were ashen cold now. There was a practice dummy next to a house that was not all that appealing, but still functioned as a house.
He recalled the first time he had come here, seeing a man asleep on the rock with a bird's nest in his dark afro, snoring loudly. The rider smiled a little to himself, but his gaze fell upon the young man who had gone completely limp.
His steed neighed and stomped her hooves, of which her rider apologized under his breath, again mounting and whipping the reins. She trotted toward the entrance to Coro's section of the Faron woods and veered to her right, trotting through a cave tunnel.
The steed's heavy breath echoed in the tunnel, as well as her hooves hitting the earth. They could hear water trickling a few feet before them, and as they rounded the corner, they were met with a glowing Spirit's Spring.
The rider sighed in relief, knowing the Spirit could gift them aid. He dismounted, thankful for the light and protection the spring offered, carefully sliding the young man off the saddle, into his arms. He was met with yet another scream of pain, louder than the last.
His steed neighed worryingly as he crouched and carefully lied the injured figure within the waters, kneeling and praying. The cool waters of the spring almost immediately calmed him as he was filled with a sense of peace and safety. The Triforce upon his hand glowed brightly before a brighter light filled the spring, illuminating the rocks around it and the trickling waterfalls.
A familiar voice welcomed him, "It has been a long time, Link…"
Link 's sapphire blue eyes opened and fell upon the Light Spirit before him. The spirit glowed and swirled with a silver-gold light, clutching to an orb with its squirrel like feet, its tail curling over its head and floating there, markings adorning the nearly transparent spirit before him. Faron hovered above the spring, its eyes falling to the young man lying beside the Hero.
"Can you save him…?" Link asked hopefully, his gaze too meeting the wounded young man. Now with the light of the spring, he could see him more clearly, his eyes widening and a small gasp escaping his lips.
The figure before him had amber-gold hair that was matted with blood, two sections of his hair draped over his shoulders, yet the remainder of it was pulled up behind his head. His face was young, about the age of eighteen, his eyes shut and his features riddled with pain, crimson dripping from his mouth down his chin, his features well chiseled. His long, pointed ears had blue looped earrings, much like Link's, sporting a royal blue tunic that was soaked in scarlet.
Several wounds littered the figure's body, from slashes to stabs to punctures to burns, all deep and gushing with carmine. The worst of the wounds included a gnarled hole in the young man's stomach and another close to his heart, carvings in his skin of an upside-down eye resembling that of the Sheikah.
Despite being matted with blood and torn, Link could easily see an emblem of a sword, the tip meeting in the center of the figure's chest. The symbol bore resemblance to the master sword, which very quickly threw off the Hero, more so than the upside-down Sheikah eye.
His left arm had an arm guard while his right did not, the armguard closely resembling the ones Link himself had worn, a white, long-sleeved shirt beneath his tunic that had different lines of green, orange, almost like the Gerudo clothing Link had seen when reading the books of the races of past.
Two belts crossed the figure's mid-section, one from his hip to his shoulder, another section of the belt branching off at his ribs.
"I can heal a portion of the damage, but not all, Hero," Faron answered him, the Spirit's voice ancient and wise, seeming to echo around him. "The rest will be up to you."
"Who is he…?" Link asked in wonder and disbelief. There was silence for a few seconds, Faron's eyes again met with the Hero's eyes.
"That is for you to discover yourself. But allow me to tell you this. He is not from this era, but he is from this world," Faron again answered. "I must go now, Link. Farewell, Hero of Twilight…" The Spirit started to fade into the night.
"No! Wait!" Link called, leaping up in attempt to snatch the spirit before it could fade, but it was too late. The Spirit faded away, leaving Link, the strange young man, and Epona standing within the spring. A bright glow surrounded the figure, lifting him into the air, silver-gold encircling him, healing what the Spirit had promised. The figure was slowly lowered as the glow faded, the bright glow of the Spring fading to a dim light.
Link sighed heavily under his breath, again taking the figure, aiding in mounting him. There was minor change to the figure, besides the fact color had returned to his skin and the wounds had been healed, but Link could sense that they were not fully healed. They may be closed, but any wrong move or quick jerk could reopen them.
"Come on, Girl…" Link spoke defeatedly as he mounted, taking Epona's reigns in his hands. "Let's get back home…"
The steed neighed in response and again took off quickly, galloping. The Autumn air bit at them as they passed, but they were forced to slow as they crossed a bridge overlooking a gorge. Once across, Link ushered his mare toward his abode, a two story house of sorts, built into a tall, yet wide, oak tree. Link again dismounted, patting Epona's head.
"Don't worry, Epona," he began. "I promise you will be rewarded for this…"
With a gentle kiss to the horse's nose, he took the figure from her back yet again, slinging him over his back, clutching onto him as he climbed up the ladder to his home. The figure's grip suddenly tightened upon Link as he cried out in pain.
"Sorry," Link apologized. "Just a bit longer… I promise…"
Link turned the door to his doorknob open and stepped into his house, immediately taking the young man to the couch. His house was rather tidy, due to the fact he wasn't one for an unorganized environment, so finding things wasn't a problem, nor was the issues of stepping over things in a messy house.
Moonlight shone through his window, casting a pale glow into the house. Link stood and climbed up his ladder to the top of his abode, coming to a ledge like area with blankets and a pillow. He never really preferred sleeping in a bed. Maybe it was the fact that as a wolf, he became so accustomed to sleeping outside on the ground.
He sighed and took a long, baby blue blanket with incredibly soft fabric, one that Uli had made for him, and then took his feather pillow, sliding down the ladder, down yet another ladder, and then dropping to the floor.
Taking a match, he lit a few candles around the house, lighting the dark abode. He blew out the match once he had finished lighting the candles, the familiar burnt-out-fire smell wafting into the air. Link sighed.
"I should probably change his clothes…" Link thought out loud, setting the blanket and pillow down, stepping away. His gaze then fell to the fireplace to the right of him. "Maybe he'd want something to eat? I mean, it is pretty chilly. A fire wouldn't do much harm and it would probably help with his blood loss too…"
He again heard a soft groan. Running one hand through his dirty-blonde hair, he turned to the young man, kneeling beside him. Link checked his pulse yet again, finding the throb to be a bit stronger beneath his fingers. The young man's eyes fluttered open just a crack and for once within the past half hour or so, he could see the figure's stunning wild-blue eyes.
"Hey there," Link said gently, brushing the hair behind the young man's head, feeling for a fever. Immediately, the young man's skin sent a wave of heat through his hand. "You're burning up pretty badly…"
The young man below him blinked wearily, coughing with a grimace, specks of blood painting his hand. Link frowned. He hoped there wasn't any blood left in the figure's lungs, but this could just be the aftermath of the blood.
"I'm going to draw you a warm bath, get you washed up and dressed, then get you some medicine for that fever, alright?" he spoke gently. The figure blinked at him, probably not contemplating the situation. But Link didn't expect him to… "You're safe, I promise. Can you tell me your name?"
The figure's eyes slid closed, and for a moment, he was sure he could see pain, fear, and loss in those eyes, but also sternness, a fire within him, and determination. Perhaps even a wild side.
Link recalled when he himself had felt so afraid, so lost, and so weighed down with grief during his adventure and even now, after his adventure had ended, those emotions still lingered. A new spark of empathy lit for the figure before him. He wondered what exactly he had been through that had lead them to cross paths with the young man being at death's doorstep.
"You know what…? I think I'll give you a name…" Link said gently, undoing the figure's hair to make him more comfortable. He slid a blue ring from his hair and set it down upon the desk next to the couch, marveling at the strange resemblance the two bore. The long hair of the young man reached down past his shoulders, Link getting the sudden impulse to braid it.
He refrained, trying to think of a name he could give the young man. Then it came to him. He recalled the wild-blue eyes of the young man, how his spirit seemed to hold some feistiness and almost an untamed feeling about him. But now, the figure was just lying there with his face twisted in pain and ears laid against his head, breathing labored and slowly.
"I think I'm going to call you Wild."
As if on que, the young man's ear twitched twice. Link smiled gently to himself. Wild it was.
And there is the end of the chapter! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thank you all in advance!
-WingedIceWolf
