"Blue can't stop staring at his mussed hair, the suggestion of staring eyes, the raven on his sweater. His shoulders were soaked, she saw, and the rest of his clothing rain spattered, from a storm that hadn't happened yet. This close, she could smell something minty that she wasn't sure was unique to him or unique to spirits.
He was so real. When it finally happened, when she finally saw him, it didn't feel like magic at all. It felt like looking into the grave and seeing it look back at her.
"Is that all?" she whispered.
Gansey closed his eyes. "That's all there is." "
- The Raven Boys, by Maggie Stiefvater
Face what haunts you.
The face of the stone is weathered and mossy, the letters nearly smooth with age. It stands solitary at the entrance of the arboretum, the room they once thought was the boss room of this temple. They'd come across is nestled away between leafy trees, half-hidden behind vines and overgrowth. About a hundred puzzles and one mini-boss later, the group stands in front of that one stone, its message read aloud by Twilight in a quiet voice.
"That's not ominous or anything," Legend mutters under his breath. He sighs, rolls his eyes heavenward, and then says louder, "Let's get this shit over with."
He moves forward toward the open room, grass cushioning the ground and trees stretching out high above them; a place that looks peaceful and undisturbed. Time would even walk in voluntarily if not for the stone message.
As soon as Legend puts a foot past the old stone, he disappears entirely. Hyrule lets out a surprised shout and darts to follow him, also disappearing through an invisible barrier. Wind swears loudly, but follows a second later. And that's how it goes, all of Time's boys stepping past into something unseen one at a time until it's only him, standing alone before words that make dread coil in his throat.
Face what haunts you.
Time takes a deep breath and steps in.
A tingle washes over his skin, but that's the only sign of something magical going on. To him, it just looks like he's walked right into the arboretum, wildflowers brushing at his calves and the sun warm on his face. He's still alone, however, and he doesn't let his guard down as he turns slowly to survey the area.
He does a complete turn, nothing jumping out at him from the shadows— no Romani, no Navi, no dark version of himself. It's only until he looks back at the great tree in the centre of the circular space that he sees it.
In front of the ancient tree stands a young man, who stares at Time through completely white eyes that send a cold thrill through his veins.
A ghost, equally proved by the way the sunlight dappling through the tree goes right through him, too, making him look all the more ethereal. All the more a spirit.
This is what Time is facing, then. The only problem is that he's never seen this person before in his life.
Messy blond hair curls around his pointed ears, curiously marred by small, pure white streaks. His face is composed of the same high cheekbones and somewhat soft features that all of his boys have, the blond hair only a shade darker than Time's himself, and even though his eyes are whited out like all ghosts', he can easily imagine soft blue irises staring back at him.
Dread tightens in his gut like a fist as Time eyes the green tunic he wears, the ghostly chainmail peeking out from underneath, the purple sword hilt sticking out over his shoulder, and thinks, oh, Hylia, no.
'Hello,' the ghost signs, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Hello," Time echoes, the word coming out quiet and breathy. There's an ache beginning in his chest, something heavy and tight. "Your name wouldn't be Link, by chance, would it?"
It's not really a question, the answer already haunting Time's mind, but it still feels like the ground shifts beneath when the ghost nods.
This is a Link. This was a Link, and he looks barely twenty years old. This was a Link, and he's watching Time with a sadness around him that feels too heavy to breathe through, with eyes just as white as the streaks in his hair. This was a Link, but now he's dead.
'And you're Link, too, though the others call you Time,' Link says, forcing Time to focus on his signs. It works, too, and Time closes his eye and pulls himself together. This is the magical whims of a temple. Chances are, none of this is actually real. This is just some sort of test, and all he has to do is find the right answer.
"Yes," Time says, and his voice comes out as normal as ever. "It's nice to meet you, Link."
Link studies him, white eyes unblinking. He's so young, his expression unguarded and soft and sad. Time has the sudden wonder if this is what Wild looked like, in his hundred-year slumber. The difference, though, is that Wild came back. With a blank memory and scars on more than half of his body, but he's alive. This Link is not, proven by the fact that Time can see patterned tree bark through his chest.
'Sky,' Link says suddenly, and Time meets his blank gaze. 'That's what my nickname would be. Hero of the Skies is my title, among others.'
Time stares at him. Something inside him feels like it's on the verge of cracking, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks he might cry. "Sky," he forces out nonetheless. "I like it."
Sky smiles then, really smiles, and it's so bright and gentle that Time can see him as he was— someone passionate and kind, loyal and steadfast and witty. Someone who would hold the world for you just because you asked, even if it killed him.
Time stops himself right there. He's still not sure if this is actually real or not, or just the whims of a spell that's trying to disarm him. He doesn't know what will happen if he fails, even if he's not sure how he can fail, but he can't risk that. He simply has to find the way out of this, though he doesn't understand how this is facing what haunts him.
'I don't actually know why I'm here," Sky says apologetically, glancing around the room with its soft grass and crumbling stone walls. 'I've been watching you guys, but— did you… call me?'
Time slowly shakes his head, pieces flitting around in his mind. If Sky is confused, too, then chances are that Time is meeting a hero who was very real once. The thought tears at him a little, and he shoves it away. "We're in a temple," he informs Sky. "This is a test or spell of some sort, I believe."
Sky blinks, mouth forming a silent 'o'. 'The test is that I get to talk to you?' he jokes, but the sadness is still there, making the words fall flat.
Face what haunts you.
Is death what haunts him? The death of a hero? He studies Sky, hand unconsciously curling into fists as he realises he's probably about the same age as Twilight. The image of his pup standing there instead of Sky, eyes white and hard and dead, flashes in the forefront of his mind. He squeezes his eye shut to force it away.
The death of one of his boys, perhaps, though he feels the temple might've been more upfront with him if that was what it really was. It would actually be one of his boys in front of him, instead of a hero he's never met.
A hero he'll never get the chance to meet.
And oh.
Time was the one who separated the timelines. He's the earliest hero in their group, maybe even the first. Everything that comes after him, the seven boys tossed into wars because he couldn't finish what he started, the seven boys who either hope for peace one day or don't believe they can find it— it's on him. It's always been on him.
That means this hero before him, who died too young with little scars on his fingers that speak of split knuckles and years of a sword in his hand… that means Sky's death is on him, too.
Face what haunts you.
"I'm sorry," Time says without thinking, and he finds, with that ache spiking in his chest, that it's true. Sky looks up at him, blank eyes wide. "I'm sorry that I pushed you into this life. I'm sorry I didn't realise how far my actions would reach. I'm sorry that my choices cost you your life. I know there's nothing I could ever do that would be enough to repay you, but I want you to know that– that–"
And suddenly Time can't breathe, his throat clogged with a desperate need to tell Sky how much he regrets everything, how he would switch places with this young man who gave everything to try and rectify Time's mistakes in a heartbeat. He wants to tell him how much the others would love him— how much they would miss him if they knew. All the words he doesn't have the courage to say tear at him, rips a hole in the place in his chest where he nestles his boys, a space he knows he'll never fill.
Sky tilts his head, a beat passing between them as he absorbs the words until he finally signs slowly, 'I think I know why I'm here,' and then he uses Time's namesign: like the sign for 'minute', but with a ticked 't' instead of a raised pointer finger. 'Time, it's not your fault. The heroes, me, everything. It's mine.'
Time just stares at him, uncomprehending.
'I am– was– the first,' Sky says.
At first, Time just keeps staring at this boy who's not even twenty years old with a sword on his back and a sad smile on his lips. Then he sees the way that sword balances on filled-out shoulders, the way Sky's chin is tilted up as if in a silent challenge, the strong plant of his feet and the way his eyes glint with steel even without irises.
He's seen that look countless times before, whether it be in a mirror or in one of his boys.
And he knows.
This is his predecessor. This is all of their predecessor.
'My death is not on you,' Sky signs gently, and Time's eye begins to burn. 'The existence of the heroes is not your fault. I was the one who began the cycle. Don't hold the weight of a sin that's not yours.'
Time's hands have gone slack at his sides, and he feels frozen— a statue and a ghost. His tongue won't work in his mouth and his fingers are a fumbling mess when he tries to sign back, but he thinks his words still manage to exist between them anyway: I don't want you to hold it, either.
Sky smiles, and his face is gentle in a way Time does not deserve. 'I am happy to hold it so you don't have to. So none of you have to. I am the one that cursed you all, so let me have this. I'm not afraid of it; not anymore.'
"Why not?" Time whispers, because he knows the crushing weight of that burden, knows the way it hollows one from the inside out. Blame does not lie quietly, nor guilt.
When Sky smiles this time, it's not sad anymore. 'Because of all of you, of course. While I never wanted the path of a hero to be continued, I can't imagine not having you guys. You're my legacy, and there isn't one part of it I don't love.'
Time looks at this man who's at least a decade younger than him, this man who fought to keep his people safe, this hero who decided holding the weight of eight lives is a gift, not a curse, and thinks that this is the strongest person he's ever laid eyes on.
"And… that's the truth?" he finds himself asking.
'That's all it is,' Sky replies, like it's as simple as that.
And, somehow, it is.
Later, Time will break down in the privacy of his own home, face tucked into the slope of his wife's neck. Later, Time will sit down with his boys and explain, tell them everything and anything about the ghost of the First he met in a forgotten temple. Later, he will carve a stone of his own and place it in the Sacred Forest Meadow where the warmth of the sun will reach.
But right now, as his vision begins to fade out, the lost arboretum bleeding away around him like paint in a stream, all he can do is grab onto the image of a Link he could've known and hold it tight to his chest. All he can do is close his eye and pray to whatever deity is listening that Sky is happy now. That Sky has found the peace he deserves— that all of them will, someday.
Time thinks of Sky's smiles and gentle signs, of his loose shoulders and soft eyes, and thinks maybe he has.
A/N: i… don't really got anything for this, honestly. my mind has been stuck on ghost sky for a bit now, so i was messing around with ways to present it and it just kind of happened. i feel like i sat down with my laptop and blanked until this was just there lol.
anyway, my explanation of ghost sky is that the curse took a physical toll on him (like a spin on the normal chronic illness hc). he had a daughter with zelda but died after she was born from the curse slowly killing him. i love the whole 'meeting with your past/future self' trope and i was inspired by suzume (loved!), and this is how it came out when i incorporated it into lu
thanks for reading! go get a glass of water if you haven't had any yet and do a jaw clench check! lmk if you enjoyed 3