Hi all. I initially named this fic Closed Circuit because I wanted to play more with the idea of a Fódlan timeloop, where Byleth is constantly using Divine Pulses to try different routes and different dialogue options in order to find a golden route, but always going back because she couldn't save everyone– a closed circuit, if you will. The story would focus on Link and Byleth eventually working together to achieve that goal, because haha Termina parallels go whee. But for a while now, the plans for this story have become a lot more intricate, unique, and frankly interesting, so I don't intend to follow that structure anymore. While this is absolutely for the best because it lets me stretch my creative wings, so to speak, it does have the unfortunate side effect of making my title not make any sense. I want to change it, but I'm not quite sure what I should change it to. I have a couple of ideas, including but not limited to Romance of the World's Salvation (an antithesis of 'Romance of the World's Perdition'), In Time's Cruel Flow (a combination of the Nabatean Lullaby and 'The flow of time is always cruel'), Behind This Mask (a lyric in 'The Edge of Dawn' and the one I'm most partial to at present), To Conquer Four Seasons (a reference to Katáktisi and the Japanese name of Three Houses), and Cobalt Crescent (keeps the alliteration of the current title and also has ties to Azure Moon). If anyone has any other suggestions, please feel free to reach out! I'll probably make the switch by next chapter's release.

Chapter XI

Fleeting moments like this were few and far between, but I relished them all the same. Here was a day when nobody needed anything, or wanted for anything. All my duties for the day had already been fulfilled and there were no side jobs to pursue at present, so I just got the opportunity to sit back and work my way through that book Ashe had given me all that time ago, Loog and the Maiden of Wind. Loog and Kyphon themselves were kind of flat to me and their characterization left something to be desired, which was a shame because they ate up the most words and scenes in the story. By contrast, Pan was really cool and smart and mysterious! He felt the most like a real person, unlike the 'main characters' who were clearly more intended to be vehicles for power fantasy first and foremost.

"Good morning, Link," Ashe greeted.

"Good morning," I responded, looking up from my book. Ashe sat down in a nearby chair.

"How are you liking the book so far?"

"Well, um," I stammered, closing the book and avoiding eye contact. "I have been finding it kind of difficult to focus on the words– and that's not to belittle the actual story, it's really good! I don't know, maybe it's not for me. I think I should probably try expanding my literary palette after I get through this, though."

Ashe nodded. "I think that's a very good idea. Different people have different tastes."

We read in amiable silence for a few minutes. Ashe cleared his throat.

"Hm?"

"Last time we met here, you, ah, said you would try telling some of your home's stories."

"I did, didn't I?" Drat. I had forgotten about that! "Well, when do we want to do this?" Think, Link, think! I didn't remember any tales! Mainly because they never existed!

Unless…

"I mean, we're both here, aren't we?"

I breathed in. Breathed out. Took a swig from my canteen. There was… one story I was intimately familiar with. One story that I could recite word for word. A story so fantastical, so ridiculous and over-the-top, that there was no way he would take it as anything less than just a tall tale.

My own.

"Alright, Ashe. Get yourself comfortable there, because this might take a while.

"Once upon a time, there was a swordsman. Brave and experienced, but a bit naive. He wandered, in a kingdom of turmoil. The princess of the land had disappeared, you see. The swordsman was approached by the king of the land, who implored him to find the missing princess."

It would be difficult to transcribe Lord Jabu-Jabu's belly in a way that wouldn't leave Ashe too confused, but I felt that I was up to the task. It was my story, after all.

"No matter how closely the swordsman searched, the princess could not be found anywhere. Eventually, his travels took him to the Great Bay, where all the world's rivers flowed to. There, buried in the silt of the lakebed, was the glimmer of a bottle. His curiosity piqued, the swordsman dove to the bottom and fished it out of the water. Inside the bottle was a note, signed with the name of the missing princess.

"'Help me. I am waiting for you inside Lord Jabu-Jabu's belly. P.S. Don't tell my father.'"

I paused for dramatic effect. "Needless to say, the swordsman told her father."

Ashe laughed. "Who is this 'Lord Jabu-Jabu', exactly? I feel like I'm missing some context."

"The way I remember the story, Lord Jabu-Jabu was a guardian spirit who took the form of a giant whale. It kept the water clean or something," I elaborated. "Anyways, upon receiving this information, the king demanded the swordsman enter the belly of the god and save his daughter. After making an offering of fish, the whale deity consumed the swordsman, and the gauntlet awaited.

"Lord Jabu-Jabu's internal structure was not biologically sound. Rock-flinging octopodes, electric jellyfish, and parasitic tentacles had roosted in its insides; the swordsman had to cut through them to progress through closed-tight sphincters, the walls undulating in tandem with the whale's breath.

"Eventually, the swordsman found the princess," I continued, voice going slightly hoarse from continued exertion. "Fortunately, she appeared to be unharmed. Unfortunately, she had no intentions of leaving, and denied that she had ever written a letter. Despite the swordsman's best efforts, the princess would not leave until…" I couldn't bring up the spiritual stones, as there was no context for them. "Until the plague had been cleansed."

"But if the princess didn't write the letter, who did?"

Come to think of it, I had never actually thought of that. "I always thought she did write the letter. And was too ashamed to admit to asking for help."

"Oh," Ashe commented. "I guess that's the lesson of the story– to never be afraid of asking for aid, and that you can't always do everything on your own."

"I guess that's one interpretation," I agreed, for the sake of not having to delve into it myself. "Anyways, the swordsman and the princess combed through the innards of the whale god, eventually finding the source of the illness– a giant, parasitic, bioelectric anemone, feeding off the life energy of Jabu-Jabu. After a long fight, the evil illness was slain and the princess returned to her father, and everyone lived happily ever after. The end." There was no happy ever after, not for me. Never for me. But for now, in the context of the tale, it would be enough.

Ashe blinked. "It just… ends? Like that?"

"I could have embellished the fight scene a bit more, but my throat hurts," I complained, rubbing the affected area for added effect. "I mean, it's been a long time since I last heard these myths. I'm doing the best I can. If you want me to tell another story sometime later, I'd be happy to."

"I really enjoyed listening to a fable from your home," Ashe grinned. "How about… two weeks from now, same time and same place?"

"I guess that works for me," I said, a whisper of heat forming on my face.

I ignored the pressure in my head as I watched the deer trot into the clearing. Hanging upside-down from a tree branch wasn't the most comfortable position, but it was vital if I wanted to be able to pounce without making a sound. I just had to wait until it got a little closer.

It was maybe thirty meters away from me. I wanted it to be at most ten meters' distance before I loosed my arrow directly into its brains. That way, the rush of the air would not be able to alert it to its impending death. The arrow hungered. And it would soon feast.

Twenty-five meters. Twenty-two. Twenty-three. Twenty-one. I silently drew an arrow from my quiver and drew back the bowstring. It was still approaching.

Eighteen meters. Sixteen. Fourteen. Twelve. Eleven. Almost… there…

At once, there was an explosion of rustling from a nearby tree. Before either me or my target could react, a purple-haired Officer's Academy student pounced from the canopy of a closer tree like a leopard and drove a dagger directly into the doe's neck. On instinct, I loosened my grip, and the arrow flew into the target's hindquarter. The other hunter stared at the arrow confusedly for a moment, before glancing directly at me, obviously having calculated the trajectory from the impact site. I had had no idea that she was even there.

"You stole my kill," I pouted, not seriously miffed.

"I… am not understanding. Was that deer belonging to you?" she asked, seeming genuinely confused. I allowed my grip on the branch to slacken, falling squarely on my feet upon the ground.

"Well, it's–" I stammered, thrown off by the question. "I guess– it's… it's a figure of speech. I was intending to do the same thing as you, but since you got to it first… well, it's in the past now. Can't exactly unkill it."

"Oh. I am seeing," she commented. "I am still having difficulty with the language of Fódlan. I have learned much of the rules of the language, but knowing and understanding are… fruits of a different color."

I could get that. Being an adult and being a child were fruits of a different color as well. I couldn't imagine how difficult life in Fodra would be if I hadn't already known the common tongue. I made a mental note to steer clear of more complicated expressions when around this individual. It would just make life for both of us more difficult. "I understand completely. What's your name?" I asked.

"I am being… no," she corrected. "I am called Petra. What is your name?"

"Link. It's nice to meet you. What were you doing out here?"

"I was informed that there is a hunting tournament until the end of the month," she revealed. Huh. Convenient. "I was thinking that a deer of this size would be a good entry. But I would be feeling bad to have stolen from you…"

"Nah, keep it," I assured. "I'm actually taking part in the hunting tournament myself, and it would feel wrong to take credit for an animal that you cut down."

Interesting, Katáktisi noted, that she takes fashion advice from me.

Wh– I noticed the streak of war paint under her right eye. It wasn't anywhere near as elaborate as the Fierce Deity's markings, but it certainly went better with her hair. Oh. I get it. It's probably just a coincidence. There's no way she has a Crestwraith… There was definitely no way. Hopefully. Right?

I highly doubt it. Simply a respectable choice that I wanted to point out. I wonder how you would look with my marks…

That would be a sight. Still, I would have to keep a close eye on Petra, just in case. Anyways. Back to business– and by business, I meant waiting in a tree for an animal to pass by, and then shooting them in the eyeball. Just an average Thursday, really.

"Chop the vegetables into bite-size pieces."

"Bite-size for me or bite-size for you, Dedue? There's a pretty big difference." He was an absolute titan of a man, to be fair. I thought the question would have been valid even if I were in the body I should have been.

"Aim for an in-between."

I smiled, putting the knife to the greenery. "You got it."

It so happened that Dedue was on kitchen duty today– the monastery kitchens were always open for the students to cook or bake for themselves. It had become something of a tradition for each student to cook a meal for the rest of their respective house at least once. Most of the time, though, it was up to Garreg Mach's staff to feed its population. He didn't need that much help– the Duscurian had occasionally cooked for His Highness back in Fhirdiad, and I had had the opportunity to taste his cooking. It was amazing, there was no doubt about it, but it always tasted like it was missing something. I remembered how Dedue had once spoken about his family, the one that he had before the Tragedy– how they had used spices and herbs and other ingredients that simply weren't available in Faerghus due to scarcity and stigma. Maybe here at Garreg Mach, he would have the tools he needed to recreate what had been lost with his home.

I slid the now-eviscerated veggies towards Dedue's side of the counter. "Anything else I can do to help you out?"

"No."

I blinked. "You sure?"

"Yes."

"Is it because I'm a child?" If he said he knew I had technically been banned from cooking in the monastery kitchen after the Deku Nut pecan cake incident, I was not going to be happy. They hadn't even given me my hydromelons back!

"That is not it."

I sighed. "Let me guess– because you're from Duscur, you don't want people to associate me with you."

Dedue said nothing. He was actually pretty easy to read once you knew what to look for.

"I don't know how many times I have to tell you this– I don't care where you're from. I don't really have the right to, given where my home is. You know that."

"..."

"I remember Dorothea saying something a while ago– I think it was 'the path to man's heart is through his stomach'. Maybe if you made Duscur food for everyone, you would win their hearts?"

"Nobody would want to eat that," Dedue replied after a moment's hesitation, the loud sizzle of the meat hitting the pan filling the room halfway through his sentence.

"You made it for Dimitri back in the capital. And for me. What's the difference?"

"That was not true Duscur cuisine. The castle lacked many of the ingredients– as does the monastery. They do not synergize with Fódlan dishes."

"I could put in an order for whatever you need on the next shipment. I don't necessarily have any authority, but I'm sure I could suggest it to Seteth, or worst-case, add a couple items onto the manifest when nobody's looking. They won't notice." Sure, it was a bit disingenuous, but I had willingly given a land title deed to the mysterious toilet hand back in Termina and that was probably some flavor of illegal. Not to mention using a closed time loop to take free money out of the bank…

"You would… do that?" He sounded surprised. He knew me by now– he shouldn't have been.

I shrugged. "Only if you promise to make it."

Dedue flipped the steak, allowing the other side to cook. "As you wish." Victory, I decided, smelled very, very good. Or maybe that was just the food. No, definitely victory.

As it turned out, Leonie couldn't get a hold of Jeralt to judge our little competition. He had his own mission to take care of this moon. Unfortunately, that left myself, Leonie, and Petra to judge the victor on our own. I had managed to take down three wild pigs, five squirrels, two chipmunks and eight squirrels, three pheasants, four foals, and a turkey. Petra, of course, presented that deer she had so unjustly stolen from me, plus a couple of extra small game. Leonie, by contrast, had amassed a veritable mountain of squirrels, chipmunks, mice, opossums, even a fox or two– every single animal that could conceivably be caught in a trap was, in some capacity, in her pile. A couple of the other students had also taken part, but comparatively their showings were meager.

"So we agree that Leonie wins on quantity, right?"

"Right."

"I am agreeing."

"That's a nice deer, though," Leonie commented.

"There is a strange story about it," said Petra. "I was waiting in a tree and pounced on it with my knife. I was seeing that an arrow was in its back leg. What I did not know was that Link was also being there, and he was seeing the same prey."

"She got to it first, by virtue of waiting in a tree ten meters closer than I was," I laughed. "It was only fair, after all."

"I mean, you didn't do too shabby yourself. More than I would have gotten at your age," Leonie admitted. "How old are you, anyway? Twelve?"

I shrugged, hiding how much that stung. "Sounds about right." We observed the stacks of kills for a while. "I think the sheer volume of meat that Leonie has clinches it for her. Although… Yeah, now that I think about it, that's kind of a hindrance. Think about it– one hunts prey to eat the prey. If you were to cook all of that meat, you would attract a lot of other predators.

"Not if you didn't cook it all at once," the Leicesterian countered. "This is a month's haul of hunting."

"True," I admitted.

"Each of those will only feed you for so long," Petra commented. "A large kill removes the need for the hunting for many days, whereas a squirrel will be eaten before nightfall."

"Can't argue with that."

"In addition, it's a lot harder to debone a squirrel than, say, a boar," I added. "And squirrels are half fur anyways, so…"

"Okay, that's enough of that," she said. "There's definitely some merit to the whole 'being the trap' stuff."

"And it's definitely a safer bet to cover more ground."

"I am thinking Leonie is still winning our competition," Petra thought aloud. "It is a matter of… what is the word… quantity over quality."

"You say that, almost like they're not quality."

"They are. But the deer is the highest quality of them all."

"That's fair."

Silence.

"So what do we do with all of this, anyway?" I asked.

More silence.

"I never actually thought of that."

"We could be donating it to the dining hall," Petra suggested.

"That's a pretty good idea," Leonie and I said in unison. "Why didn't we think of that?"

The Song of Storms left the holes of my ocarina, the quick-paced tune filling the air at a rapid pace. The sky opened with a torrential downpour, the only thing keeping me from becoming extraordinarily wet being the bell of the Goddess Tower. I had heard tales that an oath sworn here would be eternal. And, well, come true. That was rather obvious given the first axiom. I thought that the whole thing was pretty useless, honestly. Why put stock in some sappy hogwash when we were here on this continent, able to make that change for ourselves?

It was 7:05, so the ringing of the bells would be done for the night. I was alone, save the rain, the wind, and my ocarina. And Katáktisi. Couldn't forget about that.

The storm would continue for a while yet. I switched tempo, tone shifting, Saria's Song dominating the tower as the light of the waning sun sank below the horizon. I played for some time, waiting for a connection that I knew would come. Any second now. Here it came.

""Hi Link!"" Saria's voice came, garbled through interdimensional communication though it was. ""How are you?""

At once, I was gripped with a horrid melancholia. ""I'm… I'm…"" I couldn't bring myself to say that I was alright. So much had happened since last we spoke. I had learned the identity of the man who had hounded my thoughts for so long. I had learned of Katáktisi's true, parasitic nature. I had died, impaled on the end of a scythe wielded by a ghoul of dark armor. ""I'm still here,"" was all I could manage.

""Is everything okay?""

I suppose everything aligned perfectly for just one moment. The rain, the view, her voice, the silence and noise mixing into each other in a beautiful and terrible dance. Whatever it was, it broke me. Irrevocably. ""I…"" My voice was shaking. ""Saria… I miss you.""

""I miss you too, Link! And I wish you could come back. But…""

We both knew how that sentence ended. ""It's not that. Saria, you… you wouldn't get it.""

""Then tell me what I don't get, Link.""

""You wouldn't understand. You'll…"" I stopped myself, a flame behind my eyes that felt unfamiliar to me. It hurt, and I wanted it to stop. But at the same time, I… wanted to keep going? Maybe if I brushed the topic aside, she would let it slide. ""I don't want to talk about it. Anyways–""

""Yes you do,"" the forest girl interjected, seeing right through my lie. She knew me too well to be deceived. Dammit. ""Link, you can tell me anything. I won't judge you for it… That's what friends are for. And I will always be… your friend. Now and forever, no matter what. So don't shut me out, Link, please… now… What's bothering you?""

I couldn't respond in words. My eyes were… wet? That couldn't be right, I was safely underneath the roof, and the rain wasn't hitting me anywhere else. Then I realized what was happening.

When I had played the Song of Storms, I must have played it in my eyes. My eyes were raining, with such ferocity that squeezing them shut did nothing to stop the downpour. There had to be a word for this… crying? Yes. I was crying. But that was ridiculous! I was a man of seventeen, or twelve, or thirteen, or… that wasn't important! Men didn't cry… men… didn't… cry…

But I was. And now that the floodgates were open, there was no stopping it. Every pain I had repressed for the last seven-two-nine-ten-three years… all of it was burgeoning to the front of my mind. Every agony. Every misery. Every horror. Every conquest.

I could say nothing, so I sobbed instead.

Steel yourself, Katáktisi whispered. You are not alone. Somehow, that just made me cry even harder than I already was, despite my best efforts.

""Li–"" "–ink?"

""I'm… I'm just so tired, Saria. I'm tired of being as swift as wind and as fierce as fire,"" "because the dream is over and all that" ""I have left is a wailing madness…"" "I'm tired of waking up and, no matter what, my first thought being how many hours I have left until" ""the moon tears through heaven and eradicates"" "everything I bothered to–" My voice and thoughts were rising, upwards and upwards in an unstoppable crescendo until every word was a wild scream. ""- care about! I'm tired of being in this body"" "that feels" ""three sizes too small! I'm tired of"" "being treated like a child by" ""everyone around me! And"" "I'm tired of–"

In the name of the Agastya, Champion! Be! Silent! Katáktisi roared, barely audible over the din of my own meltdown. Look around you!

I drunkenly whirled around, and somehow Saria was standing behind me, a shocked and pitying expression on her face. "S… Saria?" I managed, my throat dried out from the twin tear tracks running down my cheeks. "How are you… here?"

"Wh–what?"

""Link, I… I didn't know you still felt that way… I want to–""

Oh.

Oh no.

I killed the connection, not paying attention to whatever Saria was saying. I was too busy realizing the weight of my error.

Because this wasn't Saria.

Saria was in Kokiri Forest, in Hyrule. This was Cethleann, the Nabatean Saint, invading my instance of weakness. How long had she been listening to me? I don't know how long I stood there, stock still, stunned that someone would dare interrupt this moment of repose.

Kill her, the mask ordered. I did not give in, but its malice slid into my voice.

"Get out!" I snarled.

Flayn seemed completely taken aback. "But I just–"

"I said get out!" I shouted. Goddesses, I must have sounded like a madman. What a silly thing to fear. At the moment, I was one. "If you don't leave me, right now, I'll– I'll throw you off the damn tower!" It was half a threat and half a warning. The Crestwraith would have no qualms with annihilating the Nabatean where she stood without a second thought. I worried that if I were to continue like this… it would take over entirely. That its fury and my own pain would cloud my sense of reason.

With a speed that belied her small stature, she was gone.

I took a moment to stabilize my breathing, the last of my woes pushing themselves from my eyes. I could worry about Flayn later. I had to make things right with Saria first. The song echoed through my surroundings once again.

""Oh, thank Farore, Link! I was so worried!""

""I'm sorry for scaring you. And I'm sorry for unloading all of that at once. Men shouldn't cry, and–""

""Forget that!"" I was stunned into silence. ""There's nothing wrong with letting your feelings out. Repressing them like that just makes you hurt. Nobody wants that!""

""But…""

""But nothing, Link."" Saria sighed. ""Let's take this from the top, okay?""

""O… okay."" Silence. I soon realized she was expecting me to spill. ""Ugh, I don't know…""

""Try starting from the start. When you left Kokiri Forest.""

Okay. I could do that. Maybe. If I lied. ""I… I felt so empty after Navi left,"" I explained. I couldn't touch on what had happened in Hyrule, let alone Termina. Not at all. But I could surely talk about how they had made me feel. ""I thought if I just walked away, time would heal it. And… It kind of did. But… I'm not sure if it was worth it. And now that I'm trapped in the monastery…"" Katáktisi was silent.

""Hey. Hey. No matter what happens, no matter how cruel the flow of time is, you still have me, alright? You can talk to me anytime…""

The words were simple, but they meant the world to me. ""Saria… I…"" Somehow, I was still crying, even though the Song of Storms had long abated. ""Thank you. I mean that."" I did, really. But not enough to be able to keep my word.

I set the ocarina back in my pouch, wiped the sorrow from my face, and turned to leave. However, as the sun dipped below the Fodra horizon, I found that I was facing my greatest foe yet.

A very, very angry Seteth.

Kill him.

Katáktisi…

The headmaster's arms were crossed, a furious scowl on his Nabatean features, drowning in chiaroscuro though they were. I couldn't blame him– I had kind of threatened to throw his daughter off an incredibly tall tower. Said daughter was currently positioned behind Seteth, watching me with concern and a droplet of fear. "Link, I demand an explanation. Flayn came to me in tears because…" He closed his eyes. "I would like to hear your side of the story–"

"To put on my headstone?" I interjected. I kept talking, in order to prevent Seteth from starting to castigate again. "I had come up here to think, sir. To play songs on my ocarina where nobody could hear them. They were written by… a close friend of mine. From back home. I don't know if it was the rain, or the timing, or the Goddess Tower, or something else entirely, but I just… broke. Every memory and regret I've tried to repress for the last year and a half hit me all at once. In that moment of weakness, Flayn came to me, and I… lashed out." It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie either, and that would have to be enough. "I'm sorry, Seteth. And I'm even more sorry to you, Flayn. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time…"

Despite Cichol's best efforts, Cethleann managed to get in front of him. "It seems you really do have strong memories of home. Despite what you said. Just like me and my brother."

Tear their Crest stones out of their chests. This is our chance to prevail–

Katáktisi. Please stop. You're not helping.

"Can we just… pretend this interaction never happened?" I begged.

"I would be more than happy to do that," Flayn agreed.

"Flayn, we cannot forget that this was a threat on your life–"

"Brother, is it not enough that Link has explained himself and apologized? Besides, I did not come to you because I was scared for myself– I came to you because I was scared for him."

Seteth was silent. "If that is what you wish, Flayn… You both will catch cold if you stay up here too long. Come inside."

I looked into Seteth's eyes. Whatever glimmer of friendliness that was there was… well, it was still there, albeit greatly diminished. Like the aftermath of a dying blaze, now only smoldering embers. Nobody held a grudge quite like a Nabatean, I supposed. I just hoped I could reestablish good terms with him– I hardly wanted to make an enemy out of Cichol yet, and… there was something else, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

…

I had avoided Seteth and Flayn like the plague for at least a couple of days. Rhea, too, as they had most likely told her about this incident. She wasn't acting any differently around me, but she was Saint Seiros in disguise. She would have to be good at hiding things in order to pull that off, and this was no different. Saria was also a no-go. Not after that display. Regardless of what she said, I couldn't bring myself to play her song again. It would only cause me pain.

Maybe I should have killed them when I had the chance. It would have spared me all this… anguish. It was too late now, though– they would surely expect it. To be entirely frank, I wouldn't be surprised if they sicced the entire Officer's Academy, every single Knight of Seiros, and half the blasted continent on me if I tried anything. Sure, with Katáktisi's power I could take them, but I knew I didn't want that. I was already half-convinced that they had told Claude von Riegan of the Golden Deer House to keep an eye on me, because I kept bumping into him in slightly odd locations and his reasons for being there felt somewhat off, but not enough to actually warrant any real suspicion. So I doubted it; besides, they would be most likely using someone like Shamir if they really wanted to keep tabs on my movements. I just wanted to make things right between us, but I knew I had to wait until Cichol came to me. If I continued to force the issue, I could only make it worse.

I hadn't lost sight of my daily tasks, at least– I was still as busy as ever, and I was sure to not let my feelings get in the way of my work. But the Verdant Rain moon was coming to a close, and the Blue Lion house was off in Fraldarius territory hunting thieves. I wasn't asked by Byleth to come along for the ride, which was fair– we had our jobs and we stuck to them. It was only the roll of the cosmic dice that allowed me to join them in guarding the Holy Mausoleum. Did I feel left out? Maybe a little. It's not as though I wasn't able to hold my own in a fight, despite that whole unpleasantness with the Death Knight. They were just thieves; how bad could it be?

In retrospect, I might have ruined everything. After all, I knew I could never speak to Saria again after that display. Just another burned bridge to add to the tally.

I think I'm going to call it there. I was initially considering sending Link to the black tower with the rest of the Blue Lions, but honestly that meeting with Saria is strong enough to be its own chapter. I didn't want an action scene to sort of dull that moment of powerful emotional catharsis. Plus, it's kind of unreasonable if Link starts going on every single mission right off the bat. He's a church orphan, same as Cyril.

Review please!

CuddlyManaki (AO3): I'm glad you liked it so much! Regarding post-timeskip, I am also unsure of when exactly that'll be because I haven't started writing it yet (still in the mid-timeskip hahaha, currently about halfway through 1181). I'm happy I'm doing the characters justice!

Guest (FF): That scene was fun to write.

Unknowndonut1 (AO3): I gave Link a bit of a badass streak– just enough to spit lines like that without turning him into a generic tough guy™.

HiIExist (FF): I do have a Link & Edelgard conversation somewhere along these lines somewhere later in the pre-timeskip. Claude would also definitely be very suspicious of Link; I haven't really given Claude much attention in the pre-timeskip because I've been focusing on other characters, but I could probably add something along those lines! Thanks for the suggestion!

NionNoir (AO3): You know how when a game updates and the meta changes? That's kind of how I think of the fighting styles between Hyrule and Fódlan. The former is much more centralized around defense and waiting for your opponent to screw up, whereas the latter is defined by unrelenting offense and generally rolling over your foes. I don't think someone like Dimitri could ever take down someone like Ganondorf, because Dimitri would charge into the fray, hit him a bunch of times, and wonder 'why is this guy not even taking damage?' before getting slowly torn to bits. Link, by contrast, is sort of like a counter-meta in Hyrule with somewhat weaker defense and somewhat higher offense, but with that change he loses the ability to sufficiently handle the Fódlan meta. Being underestimated by Ganondorf is probably also part of it, but I would argue that the whole counter-meta thing is the primary reason. And Link will most certainly learn to excel in Fódlan combat, especially since his Hylian experience is probably uniquely useful against Demonic Beasts. Thanks for your interest!

quadjot (AO3): same bro

DarthFlores (FF): I haven't honestly given much thought to Link's voice acting, which is surprising because in retrospect I probably should have. I've never watched FMA, but I searched up Edward Elric and have to admit that he looks a lot like Link? The voice is also fairly accurate compared to what I was thinking, if a bit less… subdued isn't the right word, but it's close. I'm not quite sure how to describe it. The voice you described is close, though.

TrashCan_Tasch (AO3): Glad you're enjoying it!