Whoopsies I'm late. At least I got it in on Monday, amirite??? Ahaha...yeah.
Link led them around to the entrance of a walled town, which none of the four visitors had seen, somehow. The guard on duty shuffled forward, armor clanking, and leveled his spear at them. "Who are you?"
"Relax, Tolk, they're with me," Link said, slapping a gold rupee to Tolk's chestplate. Saval spluttered into her sleeve, but Link was unfazed, and so was Tolk.
"I can't let them in, Link, even if you say they're fine," he tried to argue, but Link was having none of it.
"Who cares if they come in or not?" he challenged. "We're all going to die anyway, right?"
Tolk deflated, heaving a heavy sigh. "Aye," he said sadly. "You're right."
Link's face twitched with discomfort, but he didn't offer any consolation to Tolk. He simply led his entourage through the gate and into the town.
It was . . . interesting, to say the least. People bustled along everywhere, and the entrance where they came through was filled with construction workers carrying long wooden planks around, a mailman running through, and a large tower with a booming clock on every face. Link simply led them on a winding path through the town, up a flight of stairs until they came to another plaza. This one was less busy, with only a few kids playing in the plaza and storefronts lining the sides. Ahead, another set of stairs led to a higher square.
Link brought them to a storefront with an overhang and paused, pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper. He scratched his head, disturbing his hat. As it shifted, a bright flash zoomed out from under it, shaking itself. "What are you doing, Link?" it squawked. "It's past noon, you can't get a room now!"
Link uttered a curse under his breath. The fairy, Hazen was assuming, spun around Link's head spastically before focusing on Hazen and his group. "And who are they? They're not from here."
"No, they're not," Link muttered. "Now please shut up so I can focus."
"What did she mean, you can't get a room now?" Irene asked.
Link sighed. "Look, everything here happens at a certain time on a certain day. If I don't do something at that exact time, then I have to start all over. Okay? So I missed the time to get a room here, so now I have to figure something out."
"Were you going to have all of them stay in the room?" the fairy asked haughtily. "You know that would never work. Anju may not remember people very well, but she won't just let some random people into the inn, especially with three days to the Carnival."
Link took a very deep, very slow breath, raising his face slightly. "Yes," he grit out. "Thank you, Tatl. Very helpful. As if I don't know that."
"Well, what are you wasting time on these four then?" Tatl demanded. "We have to save my brother!"
Link turned to Hazen with a 'you see what I have to deal with?' look on his face. "Looks like we'll just have to do it out here."
And he turned away from his fairy, who was now yelling at him, and walked to the section of wall to the left, where the floor was raised slightly, and a large, yellow flower sat. "Come on," he called, ignoring Tatl's yelling.
Hazen and Tessen shared a look, and joined Link. Tessen leaned against one of the poles, while Irene and Saval leaned on the wall. "I suppose the most important thing is that we're being chased by a mask," Hazen began. "You wouldn't happen to--Link?"
The boy had frozen. Hazen glanced sharply at Saval, and she took a step towards him. But he jerked away, standing quickly. "What kind of mask?" Link demanded.
"An ugly one," Tessen called. "All spiked, giant yellow eyes. Know it?"
"Yeah, I know it," Link said. "But why do you know it?"
"That's what we're trying to find out, along with how to kill it," Hazen said. "We haven't had much luck so far. But before we get any further, I want to ask a few questions."
Link looked like he'd much rather be the one asking questions, but he nodded all the same. Tatl was quiet, which, despite the fact he'd known her for about two minutes, Hazen found odd.
"This place is called Termina, yes or no?"
Link nodded. "Yes."
"The mask is making the moon fall on Termina, yes or no?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Link shrugged, suddenly cavalier. "Hell if I know. Majora's crazy, though, I do know that very well."
"Yeah, we've figured that out as well," Irene muttered.
"What do you know about Majora?" Hazen asked, and Link shifted uncomfortably. This guy was a royal, he could tell. He had that air, that easy confidence, the expectation to be obeyed. He might have been less obnoxious about it, but it was there. It was the reason Link had left Hyrule in the first place--all the sneering royals, expecting him to clean up their messes.
Except her.
"All I know is that the mask came from some ancient tribe and it was used in rituals," Link said. "That's it."
"Who told you this?"
"The Happy Mask Salesman."
"Where can we find him?"
"Probably inside the clock tower. Playing on his creepy organ," Link muttered.
Hazen was quiet. Link glanced at him, finding him watching Link closely. "Do you want us to help you?" he asked softly.
Link shrugged. "I don't know. It might mess up everything even more, or it might not. Now it's my turn to ask questions."
Hazen shifted his weight. "Ask away."
"Where did you come from?" Link said immediately.
"The Hylian Empire. Probably . . . how far, would you say?" he asked Tessen, who took a deep breath.
"Mmm . . . I'd say around 14,000 years. Though now we've got the timeline split to take into account."
"Not doing that now," Hazen muttered. "Okay, so around 14,000 years from now, in the future. Termina is not hidden as it is now, but part of the Empire. My mother is the Empress, her best friend's child is Tessen, the Queen of Twilight's daughter is Saval here, and we picked up Irene from a different Hyrule. It's a really long story," he added, smiling apologetically.
"And time is the one thing we don't have," Link said, before realizing the ludicrousy of his own words. He shook his head. "Tatl, we're gonna have to wait to save your brother," he said, bracing for impact.
The fairy collided with the side of his head, but she was silent, which worried him even more. "Tatl?" Link asked uncertainly.
"I figured that," she said, uncharacteristically quiet. Almost morose. "Besides, if you're both trying to defeat Majora, then it might be quicker than we think."
"I don't know about that," Link muttered. "Hey, what do you guys know about Termina?"
The four of them exchanged a glance. Hazen nodded at the blue-haired girl, and she lifted her hands. Blue sparks flew from her fingertips. "My magic is stronger here," she said. "Much stronger. I think this place has magic of its own."
"You would be right," Link said, thinking hard. "Termina has a . . . curious brand of magic."
"Curious how?" Saval asked. Link liked her. She was quiet, but the most observant of the four. She didn't say much but she listened, and watched people. She'd been watching him the whole time.
Link stretched his legs. "You'll see."
"I'd rather not wait," Hazen said, with an unmistakable note in his voice. Link narrowed his eyes at him.
"Are you sure?" he asked. "Most people can't handle it."
Hazen lifted his chin. "Do you think we're most people?"
Link stood, digging in his bag. His fingers brushed the cold wood, gripping the sides. "No, I don't think you are."
He pulled the mask out, holding it half over his face--just to watch their expressions change, to watch the confusion go to shock, and fear as he pressed the cold mask to his skin and felt the change.
He vaguely heard the muffled scream from Irene, and when he looked up at her through the Deku butler's son's eyes, he saw her mouth covered by Hazen's hand. His arm slid off her waist from where he held her to him, and his face was pale.
"What the hell was that?" he whispered.
"I warned you," was all Link said. He stepped forward, getting used to the Deku scrub's feet, before twirling around the group. He made a circuit and hopped onto the raised floor, and sent them all a look before hopping into the Deku Flower.
Hazen's curse would have made Link smile had he been human, and the look on his face when Link popped out . . . it was priceless. Link flew around them until the flowers wilted, and he fell back down. Once on his feet he removed the mask, feeling the familiar pull of his skin, the stretching of his bones as they reformed. It wasn't such a change, but when he wore the Zora mask, or the Gorons . . . he shuddered.
Link stretched, loosening up, and gave Hazen a smirk. The royal gave a rueful laugh. "All right, you win. I was not expecting that."
"At least you didn't vomit," Link said cavalierly. "Most people do."
"I can see why," Irene said, apparently over her shock. "Can I . . . do you mind?"
She was reaching for the mask. Link's fingers tightened over the mask protectively, and he held it closer to him. He felt bad for the disappointment on Irene's face, but . . .
"It's okay," Irene said, smiling. "I can see it's precious to you."
"Very much," Link said, barely audible. He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of the tension, of Tatl's silence, and began walking back towards the main plaza. "Let's go see the Happy Mask Salesman, shall we?"
He strode off, not particularly caring if they followed or not. Behind, Tessen shared a raised brow with his friends, but they followed the young Hero. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" Tessen whispered. "You saw his face when he talked about this mask person."
"Whether it is or not, we need to know more about Majora," Hazen whispered back. "Besides, it's clear Link has some serious trauma. If the mask person is responsible for it, then, well--"
"Well what?" Saval demanded. "You can't just let him get away with it. Link is a child!"
"What would you have us do?" Hazen hissed. "Kill him? Who knows how much damage that would do to the timestream. We don't know who this guy is at all, we can't just go around killing people who hurt heroes; if we did that, we'd be killing a lot more people than just this man."
Saval opened her mouth to argue, but Tessen said, "Hazen is right, Saval. Even just our presence here could be doing damage to the timestream."
They stopped talking as Link turned, standing at the base of the clock tower. "He's in here," the hero said. "Just . . . prepare yourselves."
Saval had a face like death as she stepped in; Tessen stuck close just in case, and Irene lit her hand in blue flame for a light. The sound of organ music wafted down, and they followed it to the back of the clock tower. The organ came into view first, set against a wall, and its player--
--hit a wrong note and stopped, freezing in place. "Hey," Link said, totally uncaring. "I need help."
"It's not you who needs help, not this time," the man said, turning. Hazen was immediately creeped out. Irene scowled, pressing a bit closer to Hazen, and extinguished her flame.
The man was smiling, widely and entirely unnaturally, and had his hands clasped as he stood from the bench. "Well well, who is this? Four strangers, come to a strange world. What could you need from me, hmm?"
Hazen gave Tessen a nod before saying, "We need to know about Majora."
The Happy Mask Salesman froze; beside the group, Link gave a deep sigh. Hazen took a step back, gripping his sword, as the Salesman started going mad, shaking his head and shouting, "Please! You must get my mask back! You must! If you don't something terrible will happen! Please!"
Abruptly he calmed, holding the sides of his head. Tessen and Hazen stepped in front of the girls as a habit, and Hazen felt Irene push him aside a bit so she could aim her hands properly.
The Mask Salesman was breathing heavily. "That mask that was stolen from me . . . it is called Majora's Mask. It is an accursed item . . . that is said to have belonged to an ancient tribe. They used it in their hexing rituals."
Hazen looked sharply at Tessen. "It is said that the mask grants an evil and wicked power upon the one who wears it," the Salesman breathed. "The troubles caused by Majora's Mask were so great that the ancient ones, fearing catastrophe, sealed the mask away in shadow--to forever prevent its misuse."
"But now," the Salesman whispered, raising his head, "that tribe has vanished, gone with the wind, so no one truly knows the power of Majora's Mask."
"We've got some idea," Hazen and Link said together. They shared a short smile before the Salesman spoke again.
"But I felt it. And now . . . now, that imp has it," he growled.
"I went to great lengths to get that mask," the Happy Mask Salesman hissed, and now he was angry again. Hazen raised his sword. "Please! You must get it back! I am begging you! I'm begging you! You must get it back or terrible things will happen! Please!"
"I'm begging you!"
"You have permission to kill him."
Saval raised her nose haughtily as the boys sat against the wall. They were on the roof of the Stock Pot Inn, which was just enough room for the four of them to sleep comfortably. Link had promised to be back shortly before playing something on his ocarina and disappearing in a flurry of feathers.
Irene shuddered as she sat against the bell. "That was a nightmare."
"And we're still no closer to finding anything useful about Majora," Hazen sighed.
"We know where it's from, at least," Tessen offered, but his voice was defeated.
"Too bad that's not very helpful," Saval muttered. "That salesman was bloody useless."
"I don't know."
The three others turned to look at Irene. She shrugged. "We know a tribe used to live here and use the mask. We know it has other evil powers than just setting things on fire. We know it has a history here."
"But it was destroyed," Hazen reminded her.
"Right, but you're all missing something obvious," Irene insisted. "We keep saying we're lost, and we can't find anything. But if it destroyed evidence of its own history, then wouldn't those places be some obvious starting points? Even if we don't find anything, at least we tried."
"And if we do, then we have you to thank," Hazen smiled tiredly, feeling stupid. "Thanks, Irene."
The witch turned away swiftly, going to stand at the banister. "Whatever. You owe me."
Tessen snorted. "We'll keep it in mind."
They fell silent, and eventually drifted off. Hazen didn't move from his spot on the floor, arms propped on his knees, even when Tessen and Saval scooted off a few feet away. His mind was on something else, someone else. She stood at the banister as the minutes passed, then the hours. While the sun set, the clock began tolling, making his two friends shift in their sleep.
Hazen watched Irene, tracing her profile, illuminated with the glow of the sun. Her robe was tattered, the embroidered golden triangles along the edges beginning to fray, and her hat was crooked the way she liked it. Her blue eyes tracked the movements of those below, her lips quirking in a smile every now and then.
Hazen liked to keep everything straight and organized. He knew how he felt about things, and when he was confused, he thought it through. But he didn't know how he felt about Irene. He didn't know how to think her through. And when he thought about her, he just grew more confused. Did he like her? Did he not? Was she just a friend? If so, then why did his chest constrict when she smiled, why did his heart stutter when she gave him that look, like he was being an idiot? Why did he crave that look, with her sapphire eyes narrowed, her hair billowing into her face with the soft wind, her lips pulled into an unreadable line?
Hazen's breath caught as she turned, wearing that exact expression, looking at him from the corner of her eye. He opened his mouth, to say something, anything--what, he didn't know, but--
A strong wind blew through, and Link appeared from within those same white wings that had spirited him away earlier. He was burdened with blankets and pillows, and his hair was dusted with snow.
Hazen rushed to help him, eager to escape Irene's look. "Where did you go to get these, the mountains?"
"Yes," Link said.
Hazen chose not to ask. He snagged half the pile and dumped them on Tessen, who grunted and kicked at him. "Shut up," Hazen muttered, throwing a pillow at him.
"I'd harass you guys to plan, but . . ." Link trailed off, looking at the group. Tessen had dragged the blankets over himself and Saval, and both were fast asleep. On the other end of the roof, between the bell and the banister, Irene had snagged a few blankets to herself and put her back to everyone.
"Guess that means it's bedtime," Hazen said, rubbing his eyes. "You got watch, or?"
"Yeah, I got it," Link said, going to sit on the edge of the roof. He pulled his bag into his lap, and as Hazen settled down against the wall, pulling a blanket over his chest a pillow beneath his head, he wondered that if the Doors really had a plan for them, what in the Goddess' names could it have in store for them now?
He woke late in the night. A lone owl hooted, and the town was quiet. But something had woken him.
He sat up slowly, reaching for the dagger Link had let him borrow--a Gerudo Scimitar. A quick scan told him his group was safe--and then he heard it.
Hazen sat back, the scimitar loose in his hand, and watched Link play his ocarina. The notes were sad, drifting, filled with words unsaid. The rose into the air and dissipated like mist, but the emotion in them remained, wafting on the night breeze, as unresolved as the muted anguish on Link's face.
It was subtle, well-hidden. But Hazen had learned to recognize it from being his parents' child. Zelda and Link had worn that expression often, especially when the anniversary for the end of the war came around.
Hazen's head hit the wall lightly, his gaze on the stars above. Link was in a war of his own--a war against time, against a mask with a sadistic streak. Hazen didn't know enough about the Hero's journey in Termina--but he wanted to know.
He glanced at Link, who'd stopped playing. He stared up at the sky now, the ocarina settled like a blue gem in his lap. He looked older--far older than a boy of ten, Hazen thought. He looked like a man in a child's body. No mere boy could have such . . . emptiness in his gaze. Such hallowed eyes.
Hazen felt pity claw up his throat and pushed it down. He doubted Link wanted to be pitied--Wild Link hadn't wanted it, and his own father hadn't either. Though whether or not he wanted it, Hazen was sure his story warranted it.
What stories could he tell? Was he afraid no one would believe him? Hazen desperately wanted to ask. According to what he learned, this was the Hero of Time. Even before he landed in Termina, he had saved Hyrule from Ganondorf--the very first Ganondorf. Why had he left? The stories said nothing about why he left--just that he disappeared one day, and appeared in Termina.
And after what they learned in Wild's Hyrule, which timestream did this adventure happen in? The one where Link lost? Where he'd won? What happens after this era? There was so much to ask, to learn about, to know.
Hazen hesitated once more before rising and settling back down, beside Link. The hero didn't look at him, just kept watching the stars. He turned his gaze to the town, looking over the roofs, the lampposts, the poles being prepared for the Carnival celebrations. At length, he spoke.
"You want to know about me."
He was quiet. Hazen nodded. "If you'd like to share."
Link huffed a tiny laugh, his lips twitching. "If I'd like to share," he mused. "Are you sure you want to know?"
He met Hazen's gaze then, blue meeting blue. His were a sharper, deeper blue. They made Hazen suddenly unsure--did he want to know? If there could be such shadows in this boy's eyes, what could he possibly have to tell?
But the questions roiling in Hazen's mind made him determined. He nodded. "Tell me. Please."
Link seemed to consider him then, before giving a little nod. "If you're sure."
Hazen braced himself, but Link simply settled down, hunching his shoulders, and said, "Tomorrow. When everyone's awake. I don't like repeating myself."
A sputtering sound came bubbling up his throat, but Hazen pushed it down and simply swallowed. "No problem," he said, not quite hiding the disappointment. Link smiled a little as Hazen returned to his blankets, but too soon his smile faded, and reality returned.
He waited until Hazen's breathing had slowed before speaking.
"I guess destroying a world wasn't enough for you, huh?" he murmured, staring out over the sleeping town. "What are you playing at, Majora?"
Review replies.
To StJames1: I...legitimately forgot about horse lifespans??? Like I wrote that like "yes Epona and Sanidin are absolutely still alive haha of course" and I'm all likelihood they're just about at retirement age lmfao whoops. Also dude, moms are scary as fuck. Piss off a mom and You're a Dead Man(tm).
YEEEYYAHHH BABY HERO OF TIME HAS ARRIVED.
So here you are, enjoy, let me know what you guys thought of this and I'll see ya in a week! Thanks for reading, love you guys :)