I'm sorry for the long wait, my lovelies. Our family is moving yet again, so I have been rather busy with packing. After this chapter, I must warn you, I will not be able to post for a couple of months due to not having internet. We will be living out in the country and it will be a while before we get Wifi up and running again. My mentality isn't the best, as I recently lost a family member... With that being said, please enjoy this chapter! Thank you all for your patience and continued support!

-WingedIceWolf

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE LEGEND OF ZELDA OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS

DISCLAIMER 2: THIS IS NOT A LINK X LINK FANFICTION!

Slowly, with much reluctance, Twi opened the journal, fingering through the contents. Many memories that would otherwise be forgotten were held within these pages. Many guarded secrets only the Hero of Twilight and his companion were entrusted with. It was dangerous to keep such information within a journal such as this, but it wasn't often someone came snooping through his house.

He needed some place to empty all the information. Keeping it locked away in his brain had started to drive him mad. So much to say, yet so little people to tell.

If only they knew the truth…

The truth of a boy who had been cursed to take on the form of a blue-eyed beast, ever roaming between the light and the shadows. The truth of a war fought behind closed doors, in which the darkness had choked out the light. The truth concerning the whispers of ruins only spoken in myths...

Maybe then things would be different. Maybe then, they would recognize his heartbreak, learn of the horrors behind the fading scars that littered his body, acknowledge why sorrow always filled his heart and tears blurred his vision at the hour of twilight. Maybe then they would understand why the boy they knew so long ago vanished.

The Hero of Twilight set the forgotten journal down upon the barren floorboards, despite his desire to rekindle bygone memories, to reflect upon all the musing, contemplating and deliberation that went on in his head during the course of his adventure. He could spend days, weeks, months even, scrutinizing them, but no matter how many times his eyes glossed over the worn, smudged pages, nothing would return the Twilight Princess to this world. He would only put himself through more suffering, longing for her touch yet again.

His gaze rose to the fireplace, in which the famished flames quickly ate away at the wood, then flickered back to the leather-bound, dusted journal. He rose, journal in hand, and stepped over to the fire, able to feel the heat radiating from within the fireplace from a few feet away. It was comforting, in a sense, warming his cold fingers, coaxing him into sleep.

However, the flames would not remain unless fed. Eventually, they too must die off, their energy spent.

He could always feed his journal to the flames, watch it be devoured, until nothing but ashes remained… He stretched out his hand to surrender the journal, to allow secrets to remain as secrets, but something within him forced him to withdraw, to clutch the journal tight to his being.

A small voice in the back of his head chided him for having such impulses. He shook his head to rid himself of the notions, then turned on his heel, toward the Shadow Crystal that laid in the open upon the floorboards, glowing with an eerie orange light.

A light far divergent than that of the flames within the fireplace. A light that posed more of a threat than fire ever could. A light so menacing, yet so entrancing. If anyone were to touch it aside from the Hero of Twilight himself, the consequences could very well prove fatal.

For now, the journal could remain in the box with the crystal until he could come to a firm decision as to what to do with the pages of precious information. If he ever came to the decision…

Twi returned the journal to the box, wound the strings preventing the Crystal from grazing his skin around his fingers, and rose it so it hovered above the container. The pendant blared eerily in his presence, flooding the floorboards with its ember luminosity, before he delicately slipped the cursed object within the old fishing box.

He snapped the hinge in place as quietly as possible, restoring the floorboard to its original position, wedged between the other planks, then dragged the rug over the flooring. He then stepped back and observed his work to ensure nothing looked out of the ordinary or unnatural. Once he was satisfied with his toil, he crept toward his guests sleeping upon the couch.

Subconsciously, Twi's hand wandered to the young man's head who slept soundly, ears twitching slightly as the Hero of Twilight brushed locks of amber-blonde hair from Wild's face, sighing softly. His eyes then fell upon the Ordon boy who had fallen asleep on his arm, laying on his side, the arm he was not using to cushion his head draped over his stomach.

Silly kid, the Hero thought to himself softly before bending, body over knees, to snatch a pillow from off the floor and effortlessly slide it under the boy's head. Colin mumbled in his sleep – The Hero thought he heard something about sheep and squash? - before shifting and slipping back into sleep.

If there wasn't a pie to be delivered, and Colin to return home, he would gladly take his place among them and snuggle them both up. There was a gap between the two that was just perfect for him, and frankly, he wanted sleep himself. They both looked so comfy, so content… Why not?

As if he wanted to turn a pie meant for a child-bearing mother into ash… Not only would it be a waste of food, but also a disappointment for Uli. He couldn't wait to see the look of surprise on her face. Feel the warmth of that motherly smile she held yet again.

The Hero decided it would be best not to disturb the two, so he instead took his place alongside the couch upon the floor. He scooted backwards until his shoulders pressed into the soft fabric, leaning his head on the cushion, closing his eyes, and letting his mind wander.

He wanted sleep to whisk him away. He wanted to just enjoy this moment between the three. But alas, there was a pie that needed his attention. He couldn't risk slipping into unconsciousness now, despite how tempting it would be. He had to remain conscious, be the responsible one, stand guard as they slept.

Perhaps his sudden urge to be the defender came with being wolf, but he found his eyes snapping open, sitting upright, watching the shadows flicker across the walls. The longer he dwelt in the silence, the more sensitive his sight, his hearing, and his sense of smell became.

He could pick up every small burst of heat that caused the wood to crack from within the fireplace. He could smell the smoldering bark, the still-lingering scent of blood upon his guest, and the scent of pie all at once. His eyes could catch the subtle fleeting of the owl, a nearly invisible, silent, winged hunter, from outside his window.

For as long as he could remember, he would fear the dark. Fear what may lurk within the shadows. He would fear that he was never alone, always being watched from afar… However, as he embraced the beast the twilight had induced, he had come to favor the shadows. After all, they proved to be his most significant allies time and time again.

After some time had passed, he reverted his attention toward the pie that was braising upon the fireplace. Surely, it was ready to eat by now. He lazily rolled to his feet, dusting himself off, then lurched toward the fireplace. The night was starting to drag and he just wanted to rest his head.

He carefully removed the pie pan from the spit, a concoction of apple, cinnamon, clove, and butter wafting through the air. Using an oven mitt, bearing a hand-sewn pumpkin pattern, so as to not brand his palm, he brought the pie to rest upon the stone counter top, sighing softly as he observed the delicacy.

The top of the pie was a crisp, golden brown, the filling bubbly and oozing a little onto the strips that criss-crossed over the pie. A few of the layered strips on top were woven, akin to that of basket-weaving, but there was a particular set of strips that had been braided to form a heart shape in the center of the dessert. He smiled happily, feeling his mouth water.

Twi needed to restrain himself… He shook his head and stepped away from the pie, rubbing his temples slightly. He hadn't eaten since sharing the soup with Wild; eating a few apples at the orchard didn't really count as a meal.

Maybe I can snag something to eat when I bring Colin back home, the Hero of Twilight thought to himself. Though, I do feel guilty for asking her for food when I can just make it myself…

He stepped over to Colin asleep upon the couch and gently nudged him. The boy's baby blue eyes fluttered open, one after the other, groaning slightly and plopping his head back onto the pillow.

"Istime t go alredy?" Colin mumbled drearily.

"Your mother is expecting you, Colin. You can't be worrying her," Twi answered softly. "Come on. Up and at em."

"Fv more minus?"

"No. Now, don't make me push you off this couch and wake up Wild in the process," he warned with a hint of playfulness in his voice. The younger boy rolled his eyes and pulled the blanket over his head in protest, then fell silent. Twi needn't look to know he fell back asleep.

The Hero huffed and shook the Ordonian a little harshly after receiving no response. He grabbed the boy's foot and poked the center of it. Colin tended to be rather ticklish on his feet, but he merely kicked Twi's hand away and buried his face into the couch. Seems the Hero of Twilight had one last resolve.

He knelt beside the amber-blonde haired young man and whispered softly as to not startle him, "Hey Wild, are you still awake?"

The young man's eyes darted beneath his eyelids before he cracked open one eye, ears twitching in response. His soft, wild-blue orbs met with the Hero of Twilight's amethyst blue ones before shifting slightly, balancing his weight on his elbows, pushing himself into an upright position. He stretched slightly, surveying the Ordonian curled into a tight ball at his feet. The Hero of Twilight jerked his thumb toward the boy. "Kick Colin off the couch for me, would you? He's not cooperating and I need to take him home."

Without a moment's hesitation, Wild nudged the tyke with the tip of his big toe from his comfortable section of the couch, leading to Colin tumbling off the edge and smacking into the floorboards with an audible thump. The youngling shot up, his hair a mess of frizzy strands, eyes wide, humiliation written in his face as his skin began to turn a shade of red.

"H-hey, what was that for?!" he yelled, though his voice cracked mid sentence. Both the pointy-eared Hylians broke into a chorus of laughter, but Colin couldn't determine if it was from his voice crack or from his remark. "It's not funny!"

However, his yelling did not calm the barks of amusement from the two. If he weren't so embarrassed, he'd laugh along with them, but he wanted nothing more than to curl into a ball and disappear. He hated puberty… In his mind, he had no choice but to bury his head into his hands until their laughter had calmed.

"Are you done now…?" He grumbled through the gaps of his fingers.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Twi nodded, a smile glued to his face. It felt so good to laugh again... He stretched out his hand and helped Colin to his feet, brushing him down after ensuring he had sustained no physical injuries from the very minor fall. If anything, he'd probably have some sort of mental injury from that awkward voice crack.

Twi patted the boy's shoulder to provide some sort of empathy, all the while trying to stifle his laughter. "Voice cracks, amirite? I may have served my time with puberty, but I still have some pretty terrible voice cracks every now and then. You just got to laugh it off, kiddo."

"Can we please just change the subject…?" Colin begged as he rushed toward the door, snatching up his boots and slipping them on. Even though he had been shown how to tie them a million times, he still struggled, and unfortunately for him, Wild took notice of it.

The Hero of The Wild stepped toward him and bent down. Both hands closed into fists, lowering them a few inches before pointing to himself. His dominant right hand, giving a thumbs-up, came to rest on his flat left hand, raising his hands together before motioning to Colin.

Can I help you?

"I can do it on my own," Colin replied a bit bitterly, struggling with the laces. The young man only sighed softly, and despite the boy's sassy declaration, brushed his hands aside. He looked up at Colin, then made a hooked L shape with his index finger and thumb, raising it up to his face and bringing it a few inches from his mouth.

Watch.

First, Wild tied the beginning knot in the laces, simply by crossing the right and left laces together, the left lace over the right lace, then looping the left lace beneath the right. He then pulled the two until they formed a twisted strand. He looked up a Colin to ensure the boy was watching, and with a slight, disinterested nod that said "I've seen that a hundred times already, just hurry up" from Colin, he continued.

He looped the left lace around his right index finger, then looped the right lace around his left index finger. After creating a loop with both laces, he removed his index fingers and took the ending of both loops in his thumbs, pulling the right loop under the left, then taking the left lace and wrapping it around the right lace before pulling it through to complete the knot. He tied the laces together one last time to ensure they'd stay in place.

"I've never seen it done that way before..." Colin mused. "Dad always had me wrap the left lace around the right loop… And I always screw up!"

Wild grinned and tapped a finger to his forehead, then rose his hands to his temples, pressing his fists into his head and holding up his first finger and middle finger on both hands, as if he were holding up two fingers each. He then flexed his fingers up and down.

Think of a bunny.

"You're right… They are kind of like bunny ears," Colin added with a slight giggle, tugging on the laces. "They're not nearly as soft though. Thanks for showing me, L- I mean Wild! I'll practice the new technique, see if my pea brain can soak it up."

No problem! Wild signed, beaming with his head cocked slightly to the side as he brought his hand out in front of him.

"There's many ways to tie shoes, Colin, so don't feel too bad if you don't contemplate a couple. Everyone learns at their own pace. Take me for example!" Twi butted in, rubbing the back of his neck as his face became a hue of red. "Your dad told me time and time again that I was a fast learner, yet it took me eons to learn how to tie my shoes. When you were raised in a village that mostly wears sandals all year long, tying your shoes isn't really a well-known subject. Some methods to do so are really complicated. Ashei once showed me how to tie my shoes in a certain way that was 'easy', quick, and intended to aid me if I were ever needing to be up and running in an instant, but that took me eternity to master… She'd occasionally, well more than occasionally, wack me upside the head for not understanding the concept… Thankfully, my adventuring boots fit pretty snugly, so I don't need to tie them up. Maybe once you learn how to tie your shoes all by yourself, I can teach you the soldier's knot!"

"Maybe," Colin stated, grabbing his other boot and slipping it on. He tried repeating what Wild had done, but struggled nonetheless. With guidance from Wild's hands, he again demonstrated the "Bunny ear" technique, slowly, and with due time the boy's boots were fastened to his feet.

"Thanks!"

Wild nodded back in reply, then stood. Colin turned to face Link. "If my mom says I can stay, can I stay the night?"

"We'll see," Twi replied, adorning his boots and fastening his cloak around his shoulders. Taking the pie pan from the stone counter top, he turned back toward the door, one hand on Colin's shoulder as he ushered him out. Before he left, however, he called back to his guest, "Get some rest, Wild. I'll be back with some food. Help yourself to whatever snacks you can find in the kitchen!"

The door slammed shut behind him with a gust of the nightly autumn air before Wild could so much as blink. He sighed softly, listening as they descended the ladder and as their footsteps faded into silence. The Hero of The Wild was alone yet again, left to the imprisonment that was his mind…

Yeah, I'll get rest… He thought to himself, sinking into the couch and pulling his knees up to his face. He snatched the sketchbook off the table that held the drawing of Zelda, tracing his fingers over her barely illuminated face. There was only so much he knew about her… About himself. Could he really ever be the same Hero he was a century ago?

He remembered the first time he awoke in the Shrine of Resurrection, the water fading around him. Something warm streaked down his face, hitting the ground below. He wouldn't understand what they were until he'd been frozen in a memory, he wouldn't understand the overwhelming sorrow within his heart until long into his adventure.

Those were tears he shed. Whether tears of relief… Tears of anger… Tears of sorrow… The answer was a mystery to him. But those tears were genuine. Tears held back for decades. Behind those tears was a pain that could never be mended by the likes of him.

A pain that forever lingered in his soul, as if it was the very strings binding the shards together.

Those tears were all that remained of the Hero who fell a century ago… He let the sketchbook fall into his lap, closing his eyes, but her image didn't fade. Her beautiful, emerald green eyes. Her smile as warm as the sun. Her golden hair swaying in the breeze. Yet again, he felt the familiar streak of a tear gliding down his cheek.

Whether or not his mind knew, his soul knew what it had lost. What it longed for. Without a doubt, it was her. Could he ever re-piece all the broken shards of the past? Would he ever be strong enough to battle the Calamity raging within the castle?

He could still hear her voice echoing in his head as a blinding light filled the empty, muggy vessel he had slumbered within.

Link... you are the light. Our light. That must shine upon Hyrule once more.

"Am I really Hyrule's last light? Hyrule's last hope…?" He whispered into the darkness, gripping onto his amber-blonde locks. "I've failed, Zelda… I've lost everything! And now I'm several thousand years from my era… The Yiga nearly killed me… How am I supposed to save Hyrule if I can't even save myself?!"

Of course, he was met with nothing but silence. He wanted to scream out, to lash at something. But that wouldn't solve his situation, now would it? He needed to calm down, to take a few deep breaths and focus, try to assess the problem with a clear mind.

Anger leads to acts that cannot be undone, he reminded himself. He had repeated those very words time and time again. Words that came to him naturally, though he strongly believed they were not his words to begin with. It was as if they were plucked from the fragments of his past, but he knew not who had originally spoken them. It is better to act from your heart than it is your troubled mind.

What can I do to help me in this situation?

Right now, it would be asinine to venture off on his own. He was injured, whether he liked it or not, and he was in a land that he was unfamiliar with. His past self may have memorized every inch of this land through the maps found scrawled in old books, but that was the past him. Not the current him. Sometimes, it was hard to believe they could ever had been the same person.

He did not have his blade, only his champion's tunic stained with his own blood. Where ever it may be…

The Sheikah Slate!

He needed to find the Slate. It held the keys to his past, even if they proved to be sparse. Every fragment helped form a bigger picture. He prayed it had not fallen into the hands of the Yiga, that by some sliver of a chance, it was within this Era. He needed it in his hands yet again.

Maybe it could aid him in returning to his Era of Hyrule. One ruled by the wilderness, dotted with ruins that once held legends, legends long forgotten, its people thriving as one.

Who knew what would happen if the creatures of this era managed to get a hold of the Slate…? It would certainly be disastrous, that much was obvious. And he dared not think about how badly he could affect the past by letting the Slate fall into the wrong hands. Every little action in the Era of Twilight would affect the Era of The Wild one way or another. He needed to be careful.

For now, I have no choice but to rely on Link… My ancestor. He's really the only family I have left at this point… He wouldn't try to hurt me, he's proved that time and time again. I'll ask if we can go out to look for the slate once he gets back… There's no harm in asking, right?

~o~

Twi followed the dirt path to Ordon, through the wooden arch and down toward the small brook in which Uli and Rusl's house rested. They passed the large tree that towered overhead, branches stretching like jagged fingers, a tree in which he had climbed many times before. Colin shuffled along, dragging his feet behind him. The croaking of frogs filled the air, stars twinkling overhead, the watermill spinning, water trickling down it. Smoke curled out of chimneys and humming could be heard as they neared Uli's abode.

The Hero of Twilight stepped up to the door, knocking rhythmically with his left hand. It was a knock he had used many times in the past to signal it was him behind the door. A knock Uli would be well familiar with. The humming paused from within and Uli opened the door, her eyes widening at seeing her son standing alongside Twi. She immediately threw her arms tight around him, pulling him close.

"Thank goodness, you're safe," she breathed, smothering her child in her chest. Colin snuggled into her and sighed before pulling away.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He questioned, stepping inside and motioning for Twi to follow.

"Word travels fast in Ordon…" Uli began, taking a seat on the couch and rocking Akio who was snuggled within a bassinet. Twi set the pie upon the table before she continued, her voice hushed. "There are rumors of bokoblins creeping back into Faron… I feared the worst."

"O-oh," Colin stammered. "Well, I was with Link, and Link knows how to keep me safe! I can fight for myself too, mother."

Uli smiled sadly. "Feisty, just like your father… But even your father, well known for his swordsmanship, couldn't hold off all the bokoblins. You're only a boy Colin, you need to be more careful. I told you to be back before dark..."

This story will be on hiatus until we get the Wifi up and running in our new home. Thank you all in advance, but thank you for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing as well. Cheers!

-WingedIceWolf