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The most essential skill a hero could have, particularly when operating alone, was spotting a losing battle. Hyrule, exhausted after days of healing, wouldn’t admit defeat against the dark magic in his brother’s veins. Time could see the Traveller straining past his limit as he grit his teeth, hands trembling and shoulders slumping further as the night progressed.
Time surrendered Hyrule to the care of Four, Legend, and Wind with stern orders to ensure that Traveller rested in a real bed. Another night slumped over the dresser would do the boy no good. The sorrowful glances from Legend, Wind, and Four told Time that they were beginning to suspect the worst. As touching as the previous evening’s moment had been, Time suspected his descendant wouldn’t last another night.
A weary plea from Hyrule to retrieve him if Twilight took a turn for the worse was summarily ignored as he closed the door to their room. An even sterner order from the Captain as he passed him in the hall to let him take second watch with Twilight was disregarded as well. It wouldn’t be the first instance Time had stayed up for days on end. Exhaustion weighed down his limbs, but this was nothing compared to the strain of an infinite three day time loop. Though his body had reset every instance the goddess of time graced him with another chance, he had often spent days and nights on a quest in order to complete it before the moon fell.
Time sank onto the chair by Twilight’s bedside. After a moment’s consideration, he reached over and plucked his instrument from the dresser. He fiddled with the royal family treasure as he pondered the ramifications of a certain melody. Three notes, repeated twice, followed by six. Such a simple tune contained magic he barely understood. The effects he knew of were as follows: the power to soothe the lingering regrets of the dying and deceased; and healing a body ailed by a curse. The only instance of curing a curse, his Deku Scrub form aside, had been a man in Ikana Valley. Time’s use of the song, in retrospect, had been a horrifying oversight in a moment of panic. It was only by pure luck that he hadn’t transformed the researcher into a mask, leaving behind a young daughter to fend for herself.
Twilight’s soft groan snapped Time out of his thoughts. Dark bruising stood out under his eyes like redeads in Castle Town Square. The poor boy looked half undead by now, with sunken cheeks and shallow breathing wracking his body. Time knew there was nothing else that could be done. All other options were exhausted by this point.
Raising the ocarina, Time took a steadying breath. Twilight had said himself that this was not a normal illness. This was a curse. It had to be. Besides, it would haunt Time forever if he never tried. He shook off the vague feeling of fate forcing his hand, then drew in a deep breath.
Gentle, mournful notes echoed in the small room as Time rocked with the melody. The song faded away, and he locked his gaze on his descendant’s face. Twilight let out a long, deep exhale. Tension eased from his forehead, and the stress lines around his eyes faded. Time’s heart lurched with relief, until he realized that wasn’t the only thing fading.
In a horrifyingly familiar way, Twilight vanished into thin air. In an instant that felt like an eternity, a mask fell with a quiet plop onto the pillow. Frozen in disbelief, Time's eyes swept over familiar forehead markings. Awareness was a distant thing as he reached out to touch the smooth wood. This had to be a mistake. He lifted the mask and stared at its face, reddish-brown bangs framing the hollows were eyes should be.
Time’s mind raced, denial screaming that he’d fallen asleep during his vigil and that this was a cruel stress nightmare. A thud sounded, and Time looked down to the ocarina spinning on the floor. Oh, he’d dropped it. A buzzing in his mind grew louder and louder as his heart pounded wildly, all thoughts overtaken by the frantic mantra of no, no, no.
He raised the mask to eye level, rationalization briefly taking the edge off hysteria. If this was a dream nothing would happen if he put it on…right? Hardly believing his actions, he flipped it around so he could see out the eyeholes. What powers would a mask like this possibly have? In a trance, battling nausea, Time closed his eyes and took the plunge.
The jarring sensation of the mask fusing to his face would have punched the air out of his lungs if he could breathe. The bone melting agony of shifting forms always took him off guard. Moments from Twilight’s life flickered like fireflies behind his eyelids. An isolated village, the children that looked up to him, a blonde girl, a father figure. The foreign memories felt like his own - like he’d known them his entire life. The agony faded, and his vision returned with a snap. The fuzzy sensation of floating above his body informed him he had not quite adjusted to the change yet. Reluctantly, Time turned his head, knowing what he would see in the dresser mirror.
His descendant stared back. It was a perfect copy of Twilight, except for bits of plate armor over his chest, shoulders, and knees. A small concession to his original form always remained in each of his transformations, whether Goron, Zora, or Deku Scrub. What convinced him this wasn’t a trick of the mind, besides the memories, was the instinctual knowledge of everything his ancestor had learned. Humming embers of shadow magic sang to him below the surface, ready to shift him into a wolf. Time’s hands flew to the sides of his face, whipping his head back and forth with increasingly frantic energy.
No, no, NO!!!
His nails dug into the side of the mask and ripped the wretched thing off. Stumbling through the shift back, Time collapsed to his knees. He gasped heaving breaths like he’d been held underwater, forehead sinking onto the sheets. He could feel the lingering body heat emanating from the mattress.
Oh, he’s going to be sick.
Face screwed up in agony, Time gripped the basin at the foot of the bed with a shaking hand. His shoulders heaved with the effort to quell his weeping, tears spilling over. His teeth felt like they would crack from the force of clenching his jaw, and the mask creaked in his grip. Something deep in Time’s heart ruptured, leaking a bone-deep sorrow that he knew would never fade for as long as he lived. His heart sank impossibly lower as the door’s hinges squeaked behind him.
“Time…” Warriors murmured, “what’s going on?”
Time flinched. Of course it was the Captain. Of course it was the one other person besides the Pup who he’d told what his masks meant. What they really were.
"Where's Twilight?"
Time’s shoulders hunched as he felt the childish urge to hide the evidence. He knew it would be futile. He couldn’t care less about how he looked right now, pride turned to ashes in the devastation of this development. Slowly, Time slid around to see the Captain's wide, concerned eyes. Wordlessly, he revealed the mask like an open wound, his defeated heart knowing that Warriors wouldn’t know how to fix it either. War’s eyes widened in horrified realization, and Time hung his head. Tear tracks chilling in the night air, Time let his feelings fall away.
Perhaps this is how the residents of clock town felt on the final day. A mixture of terror, helplessness, and stoicism. What was the point of giving in to extreme emotion when everything they knew was doomed to end?
Something in his brain clicked like a gear. Wait. The moon falling. That was it! Warriors was saying something, but Time couldn't be bothered to focus on it.
The Song of Time. It was his one chance. The melody didn't always work…the goddess only saw fit to send him back in events so catastrophic they would alter the timeline. But it was worth a try.
“Besides, what other choice is there?” Time thought, his subconscious warning him that this mentality would bring about his ruin. He couldn’t care less at the moment.
Time jerked into action, scrambling about the floor for his discarded ocarina. The Captain snatched his hand back as if he was about to put it on Time’s shoulder. Time ignored Warrior’s look of alarm as he tossed the mask aside and snatched up his instrument. Bowing over it, he supplicated to the goddess for another chance.
“I will give anything,” he prayed desperately. Shakily playing the melody of his salvation, he wondered when exactly he would be sent back. Ideally, it would be before the battle so he could stop the whole disaster from happening in the first place.
Time nearly sobbed in relief as his world faded to white, but instead of falling, he appeared in a barren field. Grey earth stretched as far as the eye could see, and a fog shrouded the sky. A desolate stillness permeated the air.
“What is this place?” Time whispered, standing slowly.
”You are in the Sacred Realm” a feminine, ethereal voice answered. He turned a full circle, but there was no one else there. The voice continued, echoing. “I am the one who has granted you passage through time again and again.” Time sank to one knee, incredulity warring with desperation.
“Your grace,” he said evenly. This was the first time a goddess had spoken directly to him. He was hesitant to lead the conversation, wary of why she deigned to speak with him at all.
“Dear Hero…I do not sense any disturbances in the timeline from your actions. However, I will make an exception and send you back in time again. On one condition.” A bright light appeared in front of him, and Time dared to look up. Squinting, he beheld an indistinct golden form.
“What can I offer you?” Time asked.
”Your life,” the goddess of time intoned. “Your soul in service to me forever. You will never truly fade from the mortal plane. The Hero of Time for all of time. MY hero.”
Visions of the past and future assailed Time’s mind. The Kokiri Forest. The Lost Woods. Hyrule Castle covered in otherworldly Twilight. A strange Stalfos in golden armor, overgrown with vines. Time’s brows furrowed.
”Are you saying that…I won’t die?” he hedged uneasily.
”Yes,” she replied, “out of all the heroes, you are the one I wish to have as my emissary. My beloved Hero of Time.” He shivered at the possessiveness in her tone, but his heart hardened.
“If I would agree to this, I have a condition as well. My descendant must survive. Can you grant me this?”
“Yes, favored one,” the goddess answered. “I can heal him. Do you accept my offer?”
Time cast his eyes toward the barren ground. He wondered how long the goddess had been planning this. He should have known that all of his excursions through time would eventually have a price. The knowledge that she had waited until he was desperate enough to accept left a bitter taste in his mouth. It wasn’t the first time he had offered himself recklessly to a deity, but it would certainly be the last.
”So be it,” he murmured, bowing his head once more. “I offer my service to you.” An intangible hand rested on his hair, and he finally felt the pull of gravity. The Song of Time echoed as he fell through a swirl of white and grey clocks. The ticking crescendoed until a final, ominous click like the turn of a lock sealed his fate.
-
The previous day dawned.
Hyrule’s gasp heralded an inexplicable turn of health. The joy of the reunion warmed the room more than the morning light, and Time basked in the collective relief. Despite Twilight’s triumphant return, Time could feel phantom hands on his shoulders. He would worry about his fate later. What he would tell Malon later. IF he would tell Twilight.
Just…later.
He happily fussed over the alive and well Pup, thinking it was truly worth it. Twilight would live on. Champion got his brother back. All was well.
A thought whispered in the back of his mind that he may even see Twilight in the far future. Ignoring the slow sinking in his stomach, his smile turned brittle. After all, what was time to an immortal?