The Champion wasn't used to waking up to the smell of food.
He woke quickly, worried that the Traveler might be wasting valuable ingredients on food no one but the two of them would eat, but instead found their newest companion at the cook fire, surrounded by dozens of different colored potions and tending to something that smelled divine. The boy was humming softly. The Champion began to wonder if it was the song that woke him, for the tune was startlingly familiar.
He took some time to think. Already there were too many connections—the perfect parry, the shield made of Sheikah stone—and now the boy was humming Kass's "Final Song". Not to mention the boy was nearly the spitting image of—
"I know that song." Sky was sitting up in his bed roll, gazing intently at the little boy by the fire.
The Champion was surprised to see him up so early, but even more so that he recognized the tune. "Really?"
The newcomer seemed just as surprised, but couldn't hold Sky's gaze for more than half a second. His face flushed, and he went back to tending the food.
Sky's face was filled with wonder and amazement. "That's the Song of the Hero. Where did you hear that?"
The Champion didn't know whether he should speak. Sky clearly held the melody in great regard, but for the Champion, its significance was deeply personal.
"Songs get passed down through the ages," said the Ranch Hand, who was keeping watch. "It wouldn't surprise me if it was part of some legend he's heard."
"I... suppose so." Sky yawned and stretched.
"How long has he been up?" asked the Champion.
"A while now. Not quite as long as I've been on watch."
The Champion got up from his bed and crouched by the fire. "What'cha making? Smells sweet."
"Some sort of cake I think," said the Ranch Hand. "He just started a few minutes ago."
The young boy left the food long enough to hand a small group of potions to the Champion. To the Champion's fading surprise, he recognized each of them: stamina, stealth, and various resistances. "Oh, thank you! These will come in handy."
"What do you need lantern oil for?"
The Champion turned to his close friend. "Oh, this? Ha ha, it's not lantern oil. It's electric resistance. Kinda citrus-y, actually."
"I'll take your word for it."
The young boy gathered together a few more potions—stamina, by the look of them—and gingerly pushed them in Sky's direction.
"Oh! Are those for me?" Sky stood, smiling at their young companion as he approached. "Thank you! These will be a big help."
"Looks like you've got sets made for everyone," the Champion commented.
The boy nodded and returned to his cooking.
"I guess you've been taking notes these past few days, huh?"
The boy's face turned bright red. He went still.
The Ranch Hand sighed. "Even if he can write, I doubt it'd be in a version of Hylian any of us would be able to read."
The Champion's eyes narrowed. If this boy truly had followed them for several days and paid well enough attention to know what potions to make for who, surely he knew about them all coming from different eras. "You panicked last night when the Captain asked if you can write," he said softly. "Is there a reason you don't want to talk to us?"
The boy began to sway. His eyes remained fixed on the food he was preparing.
"It's alright," Sky chimed in. "Whatever it is, we won't judge. We just want to help."
"And we can't exactly help if we don't know what's going on," the Ranch Hand added.
The boy took the pan off the fire and dressed its contents with icing and fruit, swaying all the while. He hid under the hood of his cloak and went back to his bed, curling up facing away from the fire.
"I'll take that as a 'yes'." The Ranch Hand stretched and joined the others at the fire. He caught the Champion frowning at their breakfast and gave him a nudge. "What's gotten into you? I've never seen you disappointed at food before."
"I'm not. Just… thinking, that's all."
"It looks delicious!" Sky said.
"It's fruit cake." The Champion shifted his gaze to the young boy. "It's said to be a favorite dish of the Royal Family. At least, in my Hyrule."
The boy pulled his cloak tighter around him.
Sky, who was closest to the boy, crawled over and sat by him, rubbing his back as the boy began to weep. The Champion cut the cake in silence as the rest of the party began to rouse.
"Whoa!" Footsteps approached the fire. "Someone's been busy—that's a lot of potions!"
The Champion didn't bother to look up. He merely plated a slice of cake and handed it to the Traveler.
"Um, guys?"
Everyone turned to Sky. At first many of them didn't see what he was so fussed about, but one by one they caught a glimpse of the cool beams of light seeping out around the Master Sword's hilt.
"What in the—" the Captain breathed, speaking for all of them.
Sky removed his hand from the boy. Slowly, the beams faded.
"I, take it this is new?" asked the Smith.
"I've never seen it glow in its sheath like that," said the Veteran. He eyed the cowering child. "Especially not in response to a person."
The Champion, with the memory of his failure and subsequent rescue playing over in his mind, said nothing.
"Whoa! Who are you?" asked Wind.
"I have a theory." The Veteran unceremoniously strode over to Sky, pulled the Master Sword from his back, and pointed it at the newcomer. It didn't last long—the blade burned his hand before falling to the ground. "Well, that settles it: he's one of us."
No one knew what to say. The young boy pushed himself into a seated position, still hiding under his cloak. He began to write in the dirt.
The Ranch Hand frowned as he watched the script appear. He sent his friend a solemn look. "This… looks like your Hylian."
The Champion sighed. Of course it did. He walked over to where he could see the writing more clearly. "My name is Link," he read aloud. "I can talk, but not when I'm scared." The little boy winced before continuing. "I'm afraid of everything. I am a coward. Sorry for the confusion."
"You're not a coward." The Veteran's tone was almost biting. "Trust me, I've worked with one. You're just a kid. There's no shame in being afraid."
"That may be true," said Time, "but if this boy does possess the Spirit of the Hero, the amount of fear he's displayed is still odd."
"Odd my foot! He's nine years old!"
"And?"
"Guys, guys." The Smith stepped between them. "This isn't helping anything." He crouched in front of the newest member of their group. "Why are you afraid?" His words were gentle, but prodding. "What's causing fear in you, right now?"
The boy pulled down his hood, keeping the rest of the cloak wrapped around him. After thinking a moment, he wrote in the dirt.
The Champion had to swallow the lump in his throat before reading. "Shame."
"I can't fight." The young boy's voice was so quiet, it could barely be heard above the crackling fire. "My dad tried to teach me how, but I'm no good. A shield is, all I can use." He rocked slightly. "I know a Hero is supposed to be brave. I know I'm not brave. And I… don't know why." He paused. "I… didn't think, you guys would accept me… especially, after seeing you fight, I thought… it'd be better if I, just stayed out of the way. But I wanted to stay with you in case, in case you, needed my help."
"You're not the only one who feels inadequate here," said the Traveler. "You'll be fine. Our Champion here is currently without a weapon, but we're making it work."
"Oh!" The boy suddenly grabbed his bag and dug around in it. He pulled out a small Sheikah stone box and held it out to the Champion. "Here. I made a spare. It's a special polish—I use it on my shield to keep the durability up. I've never used it on weapons, but, maybe it'll help?"
"Oh! Thank you." The Champion was so excited by the prospect he momentarily forgot his concerns.
"See?" Sky said. "You're helping already!"
Wind picked up the Master Sword. "So, why was this glowing earlier?"
"Because…" He paused. "It, just does that with me. Here." He reached for the sword. The instant it transferred hands, not only did the blade begin to glow, but the boy's entire body seemed to light up from the inside. The cloak kept it mostly hidden, but the soft golden light seeped out around the edges, mixing with the pale blue glow of the Master Sword to form a pure, stark white.
"Incredible," remarked the Traveler.
The boy handed the sacred blade back to its forger.
"And you have no idea why this happens?" asked Time.
"I— I do, but, I'd rather keep that to myself, for now." He stared at the ground.
"I think that's fair," said the Ranch Hand. "For now we should probably eat and head out."
"No," said the Captain. "We need to figure out what to do with him if a fight breaks out."
"I can take care of myself," said the boy with a surprising amount of assurance. "Don't worry about me. I just, can't help with the actual fighting, is all."
"I disagree." The Champion gave him a pointed look. "If there's one thing I've learned from my journey, it's that you don't need a weapon in order to fight."
"That takes a lot of planning though," said the Ranch Hand, "and with these ambushes lately we often don't have time for that."
"True."
"We should think of something to call you," said Sky. "Do you have a title, or a nickname or something? Maybe a hobby?"
"I… have a nickname, but…" He closed his eyes, then sighed and stood. Stepping up to the Champion he whispered, "I need to talk to you," and kept walking.
"Uh, be back in a minute." The Champion followed the little boy to the edge of camp, just far enough that the others couldn't hear. The boy stopped behind a tree just wide enough for the both of them to stand behind and faced him. "So?" the Champion prodded after a moment of silence. "What is it?"
"How much do you know?"
"I… have suspicions."
"What are they?"
The Champion's face flushed a little. "You look… just like my Zelda. And that shield parry, and the song you were humming, only— Well, as far as I know only me or Kass could've taught you the song. And the parry… I haven't seen anyone else who can do that, besides you and… me."
The boy took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but ended up folding to the ground anyway.
The Champion knelt in front of him as he began to cry. "Take your time," he soothed.
Without warning, the boy leaned into his chest.
Memories flooded the Champion's mind. Out of reflex he wrapped his arms around the boy, the golden hue of the child's hair only intensifying the memory.
"I tried—" the boy whispered. "I tried— I didn't want you, to find out— I didn't want to ruin—"
"Shh." Though his suspicions were still unconfirmed, a love for this child began to well up in his heart. Even if the child was only connected to Zelda—even if the Champion had merely been this boy's mentor—that was still reason enough. "You don't have to tell me anything," he said.
"But— My nickname— What everyone calls me—"
"We can use a different name," he said softly. "It doesn't have to be the same one." Granted, the Champion had no idea what the boy's nickname was, but if it was causing him this much distress—
"But you know already—!"
"I suspect. That's different. Suspicions can be wrong, you know."
The boy sniffed and sat up. He wiped his eyes, his face still flushed.
"Now then. We'll find something to call you in time. Don't fret about it, alright? Let's just pack our things and get going."
The boy nodded.
The Champion stood, gave the child a hand up and a pat on the back. "You'll be alright."