Hello my lovely readers! I am so sorry for the long wait... Again, school, family matters, all that fun jazz... It's a very long, emotional story, but I'd rather not get into it. I'm struggling a lot right now with my mental state, so that is why chapters are coming slow. To make up for it, I tried to make this chapter longer to where I had originally planned it to be, but I decided it needed to end off here. I'm tired and sleep is needed... So with this, I'm heading off to bed, my lovelies.

Again, thank you to my wonderful muses who have aided me in this! MoonSamuari, Sombra, and Doctor!

Without further ado, thank you all for reading, favoriting, and reviewing my lovelies!

-WingedIceWolf

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

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

And yes, I do ship BOTW ZeLink. So deal with it!

Wild took a deep breath and closed his eyes, subconsciously curling in on himself, pulling his legs up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. "Ganondorf" was a name he could seldom forget. It was a name spoken in whispers around campfires in the dead of night. It was a name spoken with venom and spite among travelers… It was a name that meant doom for all of Hyrule.

But it wasn't just a name. It was a being who slaughtered hundreds. Thousands… Millions of innocent. A being who burnt down villages, made an entire army of men fall with the sweep of his hand, a being who offered no mercy… And all for what? For revenge. For power. For the enjoyment of Hylians and humans alike fighting for their lives.

He needn't his lost memories to know who Ganondorf was or what he had done… He had read upon it while in Kakariko village, bedridden. Or rather, he had heard it from a curios girl who questioned the village elder, Impa.

The Hero of The Wild had taken up a book once to read about his ancestors, having bought it from a merchant within Hateno. He was more than excited to get to reading it, but unfortunately, things got in the way. Rather, a clan of Yiga.

He had made camp, his horse tied to a tree while he propped the book open in his lap, the firelight allowing him to read the pages as he pulled the mushrooms off a mushroom skewer with his teeth. He finally had time to himself…

Being a Hero meant saving random civilians from snarling pig creatures, aiding in gathering food for a hunter, parrying blows from guardians, collecting herbs for the wounded Sheikah, and searching for shrines all while trying to recall his memories. It was all good work, but it could get very tiring… Especially if he had to scale any mountains along the way or swim across any lakes to get to his destination. He didn't feel it right to burden his steed with the rough terrains.

Everywhere he would go, eyes would fall upon him and whispers would fill the air as he passed by. Civilians would grab at him, sometimes pulling at his hair and shouting in his ear, "Where's the mighty Link, huh? All I see is a childish boy playing the role of hero!" before throwing him into the dirt. Despite their words, despite how much they mocked him and despite if they struck him, he always rose, brushed himself off, wished them well and continued on his way. Split lip and bruises or none.

It wasn't uncommon he would be shoved around and spat at, but regardless, he refused to fight back against them. What good would it do to waste his time on people who didn't believe in him? People who would eventually come to him, begging they save him. However, at the end of the day, their words began to pluck at him, rekindling the pain that tore open the scars upon his frail heart.

Others would praise him, hug him tight, and tell him how much they appreciated him, hosting feasts in his honor and offering him anything he may need. Though the attention he received could be overbearing, those people always brightened his day. He could walk into Hateno, dragging his feet, body weary, only to be greeted with smiling faces and villagers offering to help him with his pack. They would pay for a night at the inn as well as a massage should his sore muscles need some relief.

Small children would try to impress him with their drawings they waved at him or their swordplay, running up and asking while hugging his legs, "Hey Link? Do you think I'll ever be as good as you one day?" And without hesitation, he'd bend down, offering a gentle smile and reply with a tap to the child's nose, "Keep practicing, kiddo. You're getting really good!"

It was people like that that kept him going.

The Hero of The Wild found simple ways to distract himself, temporarily forgetting the pain lingering deep within his soul. Sometimes, he would go out with the children to collect flowers and make flower crowns, allowing the girls to braid his hair in the blossoming meadows. Other times, he'd crouch low in the grass, bow drawn and knuckles touching his cheek as he aimed an arrow at an elk. He would map out the stars he spent hours gazing at or practice with his blade in the pouring rain.

Anything to escape the pain…

Whenever the opportunity arose where he could be alone, out in the wild, he felt at peace. It was almost as if that is where he belonged… He may have been a royal guard back then, dwelling within the confines of Hyrule Castle and guarding the passageways to the throne, but that was over a century ago. Back then, he was sure all the duties from being an appointed knight would have weighed heavy upon him, causing his confidence to dwindle and his spirit to fade. And it did.

He had read from Mipha's own diary:

Link came to visit the domain. It feels like forever since he was here last. He no longer resembles the child I first met. He is now an accomplished knight and keeper of the sword that seals the darkness. I am so proud. However... He hardly speaks anymore, and smiles even more rarely. He is still the kind soul I knew, but something has changed. I asked him if something had happened, if something was wrong. He merely shook his head. Perhaps it is his newly acquired height, but I feel he is ever looking past me, into the distance beyond…

He had read that entry several times over. Why? He knew not… Maybe it was a longing in his heart for the past… Or maybe it was a reminder of how terrible of a failure he had felt back then, being no different as it had now. He still had nightmares of the night the skies had turned crimson, the scent of blood carried on the breeze as Hyrule was set ablaze.

Out of all things to carry on in Demise's bloodline, he chose his hatred to forever follow us. And with time, that hatred became Calamity Ganon… A beast of pure Malice and rage… A beast that caused my land to perish… Wild thought to himself, gritting his teeth as his nails dug into the fabrics of his clothing, tears again stinging at his eyes. He could never forgive himself for that night… He could never forget the princess's tear stained face as she collapsed into his arms, sobbing hysterically.

"Everything… Everything I've done up until now… It was all for nothing..." She whispered with her face buried in her burnt hands. She tore her hands away from her face and screamed, "So I really am just a failure!"

Her Hero's heart had sank at that, forced to watch as the one person he cared for more than anything in all of Hyrule finally crumbled. She had every reason to… She had lost everything. Her people… Her father… the people she called friends… And most of all, she had lost the will to carry on. Why did they continue running, if they knew they would fall?

All she had left was him. And she was all he had left…

"All my friends… The entire kingdom… My father most of all… I tried, and I failed them all…"

I'm still here… It wasn't your fault…

"I've left them… all to die…"

You never did… This was never your fault…

Then, without warning, she collapsed into his arms, clutching tightly to him and weeping, her soul fractured. He wrapped his arms tight around her, the only form of comfort she had left, and rested his chin upon her head as he held her close. It shattered him, the pain greater than any wound could ever bring.

"Zelda…" Link had breathed her name in her ear, barely audible. He brushed a lock of her hair behind her ear and rocked her gently in his arms. "This… was never and will never be your fault… Don't lose hope… Please… The Triforce will awaken within you and we can battle the Calamity…" He intertwined her fingers with his and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Together…"

"But why…?" She whispered brokenly between sobs. "I failed them… everyone… They are all gone because of me… Because I failed…"

He tilted her chin up so her eyes met with his. "No, Zelda… You never failed them…Calamity has claimed their lives… Not you. You are lost in a dark place… We all are… But my father once told me, the darkest day will end with the brightest dawn, even if the light is hidden behind the clouds. I know I can't replace everything you have lost... But I have always been here for you… I always will be… Promise me you won't give up hope… Not yet…"

"You don't deserve me… Someone who has shown nothing but failure time and time again… Why don't you give up, Link…? What have you to fight for…?" His Princess asked. Link paused, but pressed his head against hers.

"You..."

Her eyes widened in disbelief, but before she could reply, he pulled her close, pressing his lips against hers. He could recall how rigid her body was, but she slowly melted into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was as if the world around them had halted. The rain drummed against them, rolling down their faces, the soot and blood staining their clothes, but for once, everything seemed alright…

Very soon, the whirring of Guardians pulled them apart. Link took her hand, and together without a moment's hesitation, they fled, Link tightly clutching the Master Sword in one hand.

If I had been strong enough back then… I could have saved them… I-I could have saved-

The Hero of The Wild felt Link's hand fall upon his shoulder, turning and looking up at his guest.

"I think that's enough history for today..." Link spoke softly.

You… Were a Hero. Wild signed gently, having signed "Hero" by bringing his fists up similarly to a fight stance. It was a sign that meant many things. Courage. Strong. Brave. But would any Hero consider themselves "brave" when thrust into battle, having no choice but to fight for their lives?

But they did have a choice… Any Hero could flee at any chance. Why didn't he?

Because the world rested upon his shoulders… It always would… It always had…

Midna was your companion?

"Yes she was…" The Hero of Twilight answered gently, staring off into the distance, head resting in his palm.

The Hero of The Wild wanted to know more, but he wished not to press the matter any further. His guest had answered enough and it was evident it pained him to do so. Wild straightened up and rubbed his face on his sleeve, sighing heavily. I need to stop sobbing like a child… There's far more important matters.

Suddenly, he perked up. He had nearly forgotten about the Sheikah Slate… It held the keys to his past, as well as a handful of his deprived memories. It was essential to accessing shrines and reclaiming the Divine Beasts. And maybe it could be his key back home.

I'm stranded in an era that isn't mine… Wild sighed heavily. I need to find the Sheikah Slate as soon as possible…

He silently prayed the Yiga Clan did not have it in their possession. His mind was fuzzy, most likely due to his injuries and his fever, but he distinctly remembered being shackled to the wall with a chain wrapped tight around his throat, the ruthless former Sheikah taunting him as they drove their curved blades into his flesh and held burning torches to his skin until he screamed.

He dared not beg, despite what they demanded. It would be too satisfying… He wanted to show them he was stronger. When he had spat in the face of their new leader, he was immediately met with a blade slowly being pushed deeper and deeper within his chest, inches away from his heart. He could feel as the cold steel sank into his flesh, the pain never dulling as he was forced to endure every last second of the torture.

Finally, unconsciousness took over him and everything around him faded into a blissful black.

"Wild…?" Link shook him gently. The young man looked up at him and shook his head, subconsciously rubbing his throat. "Are you alright…?"

Wild nodded gently, though he didn't meet Link's gaze. He instead brought his fists up, bringing them down, then pointing to himself. He then cupped his fingers together, touching his chest, lowering his hand so he skimmed his left hand over his right, both hands flat, his left palm hitting into his right palm.

Can I have paper?

"Paper?" Link asked, cocking his head slightly. He rose and walked to his shelf, taking a green, leather bound sketchbook. He brought it to the table, setting it down in front of Wild. He then took up a pencil from a glass jar, setting it down. "Here you are. Any reason why you need paper?"

Wild took the pencil and the sketchbook, flipping it open to a blank page. Without responding to Link, he started drawing, leaning back on the couch and sighing. Link wanted to ask what he was drawing, but decided against it, taking up the book of the Chosen Heroes and setting it back upon its place on the shelf. He took up a different book, going to the couch and sitting down cross legged, opening the book and quickly getting lost in its pages.

The sun slowly moved across the sky. Eventually, Link heard a soft thump. He looked over the edge of his book, seeing his guest curled up, using his arm as a pillow, the pencil rolling across the floor. His long, amber-blonde hair fell over his shoulders, chest rising and falling to the rhythm of sleep.

Link smiled gently, reaching over and ruffling Wild's hair gently before temporarily closing his book and bending down, taking the pinewood pencil and returning it to the glass jar. He snatched up the pillow on the floor and lifted Wild's head, the young man stirring slightly. Link then took up the blanket and threw it over his body, carefully attempting to pull the sketchbook from his hand. Wild clutched tightly to it, not willing to give it up so easily.

The Hero of Twilight sighed, releasing the sketchbook for the time being. He instead tried to see what was upon the paper, curious as to what his guest had drawn, cocking his head this way and that, much like a dog, to try to find the right angle to view the picture with it being squeezed to his guest's chest. The image he had drawn was of a young woman, long hair flowing behind her, a braid across the top of her head, smiling brightly while holding- a frog? - in her hands. There was a light of excitement in her eyes as she cupped the frog in her hands, examining it closely.

His eyes widened a little at the drawing. His guest certainly had skill when it came to art. The drawing seemed so real, as if it were never a drawing at all. As if he were right there in the moment, watching this young, beautiful woman beaming over this bulgy-eyed amphibian.

However, for some odd reason, the appearance of the girl was strangely familiar. He squinted at the drawing, trying to see if he could make out anything from it, rattling his memory for anything that would solve his confusion.

But nothing came…

Had he seen her before somewhere during his travels? Maybe passed her by on the streets of Castle Town?

No. Most certainly not. He'd never seen a young woman, probably age eighteen, like that. She'd be easy to find, sticking out with her long hair and bright eyes. Come to think of it, the frog looked vaguely similar to the ones he would find hopping around Zora's domain.

Was she someone Wild knew?

The chances of that were quite likely. He was fairly confident he hadn't seen the young woman before. Perhaps she was a love interest to Wild…? The way he clutched so tightly to the sketchbook gave Link the impression she meant great importance to him.

But why…?

He huffed and shook his head, deciding to drop the matter for now. He laid his hand upon Wild's head, feeling for a fever. To his relief, the young man's fever had dropped significantly. He brushed the hair from the young man's face and went back to reading his book.

The sun was a few hours away from sinking into the horizon when a knock sounded at Link's door. He quickly and near silently shook Wild awake, motioning for him to hide. The young man being rather out of it, it took him a while to drag himself to the bathroom and close the door.

Link straightened himself up as another knock sounded upon the door.

"Coming!" He called out, rushing to the door and throwing it open.

Sure enough, Ilia stood at the entryway, waving a little. The sunlight cast her shadow upon the ground, the breeze shaking the orange pine trees around the house. She held a few cloaks draped around her arm and a pair of furred boots.

"Brought you some cloaks and some boots. You can't just be going out in sandals and thin Ordonian attire, idiot," she said with a smirk. "You always tear up your cloaks… So that's why I have multiples." Without being invited, she stepped inside and set the cloaks down upon the couch. "A blue cloak, black cloak, and a green cloak. All thick fabric."

"Thanks Il-" Link began, but Ilia interrupted him, jabbing him in the chest.

"If I find out you tore one of these cloaks, you're paying for it, you hear me, mister? And not with the rupees you have. We all know you're loaded with rupees. No… You'll be cleaning the cucco pens!" She stated firmly, glaring at him. Link threw up his hands in surrender.

"Yes ma'am…"

"Do I make myself clear? These cloaks were expensive and it took me a while to hunt them down while at Castletown. The merchant was almost out and these were the last three I could buy! I walked by the booth with Renado and saw them, thinking, 'Hey, Link could use some of those!' And you know what? I bought them! So DON'T mess them up!"

"Yes ma'am..." Link repeated slowly. Ilia set the boots down on the floor with a gentle clunk, then straightened up. She looked around the house, then eyed the sketchbook upon the table.

"Have you been drawing lately?" She asked excitedly, picking up the green, leather-bound sketchbook. Ilia always enjoyed Link's drawings, complimenting him and showing his works off to others within Ordon. His art was widely admired among his peers.

"U-um..." Link began, trying to quickly snatch the sketchbook away. Ilia quickly moved the sketchbook from his hands before he could so much as come an inch from it. She held it over her head. "Can I have it back…?"

"Can I look through it?"

"Um…"

"Well, I'm looking through it anyway."

And with that, Ilia opened the book to the most recent drawing, being of the young woman. She held it up to the light, eyes widening. "Who is this girl…?"

"I don't know..." Link shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. It wasn't his drawing anyway.

Ilia's gaze snapped back to him, raising an eyebrow. "You… don't know. Yet you drew this?"

"Ah… I um…"

"Link, you're acting weird…" Ilia stated, setting the sketchbook down. She stepped up to Link, him taking a step back until he was pinned against the wall. The green eyed girl stared him down and hissed, "Tell me what's going on. What are you hiding?"

Link swallowed slightly. If anyone could intimidate him, it was most certainly Ilia. Something about her was always so frightening. But then again, most young women were frightening. Maybe it was just a female thing?

"Nothing…?" Link squeaked.

"Tell me Link…"

"I'm not hiding anything!"

"Yes you are! Just fess up to it already! Is there a girl living here with you?"

"No! I loved one woman, Ilia, and one woman alone! When she left, it broke me into pieces! Do you think I'd EVER find another person to love? You know me, Il. You've known me since we were kids!"

"Do I? Do I really know you?" Ilia hissed with a growl in her voice.

Link shut his eyes and hung his head, shoulders starting to shake. "I-I'm so sorry… I wish I could tell you everything… But… I-I can't…"

"Why can't you tell me?" Ilia asked, her voice softening. "Link, are you in danger?"

"I don't know yet…" Link whispered, staring at the floor. "I don't want to get people hurt like I did last time, Ilia…"

"That wasn't you… Those were Bulbins and Bokoblins that attacked Ordon. That wasn't your fault."

"Maybe not… but I dragged everyone into a giant mess. All because I'm the 'Hero chosen by the Gods'. I hurt those I love… And I hated watching them suffer, Ilia… I don't want to do it again… I found a young man out in the woods… Barely breathing and severely injured… I've been tending to him… Rusl doesn't trust him… But I do… I saved his life and he hasn't tried to harm me. I could see it in his eyes… He's just like me, Ilia… Broken, scared, lost… I want to help him… I couldn't help myself… But… maybe with him, it's not too late…"

"Link..." Ilia breathed. "This is what this is all about…?"

Link nodded gently, looking up at her. "I'm scared someone will hurt him…" Link turned toward the bathroom, speaking softly. "Wild… you can come out…"

Slowly, the bathroom door creaked open, Wild standing in the doorway, looking up at Link, then at Ilia. His body was tense, jaw set and poised to fight. Her jaw dropped a little at seeing him, walking forward slowly, though he raised his fists defensively. She spread her hands to show she meant no harm, then carefully studied him once he lowered his fists, his ears perked back as she looked to him and Link and back again. Finally, she grabbed Link's arm and dragged him over to Wild so they stood side by side. After a few seconds of awkward staring, pulling at their hair, and poking at their faces, she shook her head.

"Well, the fact he's been here explains a lot… That chess board being out and your very strange behavior. But on a side note, you two look so similar. The facial structure, the eyes, the height… Who is he?" She asked, Wild taking a step forward as she reached out and fumbled with Wild ears. He grabbed her wrist tightly, gently shoving her backwards in warning.

Ilia slowly stepped back, sensing his clear irritation and discomfort, rubbing her now sore wrist. She knew he was uncomfortable with this, but he could have just said so, right?

He's strong…

"Like I said, I don't know. He was unconscious for several days… And I've been trying to help him recover…" Link sighed, wrapping an arm around Wild to keep him supported. "He's been running a fever and his wounds are still pretty bad… He needs to take it easy. He doesn't know where he is why… Sound familiar?"

Ilia stepped back and nodded. "Amnesia… I'm all too familiar with it." She held out her hand to Wild. "Well, it's nice to meet you...-"

"Wild…"

"Wild?"

"Yes. Wild. He has dark, wild-blue eyes. So… I nicknamed him Wild. He hasn't told me his true name and I'm okay with that. Trust is earned. Not given. With that being said… Don't tell anyone else."

"And Rusl knows about him, right?"

Link nodded, though his guest squirmed a little with discomfort. "I didn't draw that woman, by the way… He did… Him and I are going to pick apples soon. He needed some rest beforehand…"

Ilia nodded, then hit Link upside the head. Wild glared at her, a growl emitting from his throat, but it went unnoticed by Ilia. Link rubbed his head gently, grimacing.

"You know that hurts…"

"Yeah, that's the point," Ilia retorted, turning to Wild. She held out her hand in greeting. "Well, this isn't the best first impression. Sorry about that. I'm Ilia, daughter to Mayor Bo. And you are?"

Wild only stared down at her hand, then back up at her with the same, icy cold glare. "What? What did I do?"

Wild crossed his arms in front of his body so they formed an X shape, then brought them outward before using both index fingers to make a jabbing motion so both index fingers touched each other, pointing to Link.

Don't… hurt… him…

And that's that. I'm sorry if the chapter isn't good, I've been having so much writer's block lately... Thank you, readers!

-WingedIceWolf