Spirits and Hands
Summary: On his way to save Zora's Domain for the second time, Wild and his companions encounter a terrifying enemy.
Warnings: totk spoilers, panic attack, hands
AO3
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The journey to Zora’s Domain was already turning out to be a lot better than Wild had expected it to be. Any traveler he passed would have thought that he was making the trip alone, but he was far from it. Two glowing, spirit-like forms were at his side.
One, a young Rito with a bow on his back, had joined Wild last week after his physical counterpart had discovered his abilities as a sage. The spirit was useful for flight and fight, but his inability to emote more than a tilt of his head left his companionship a little lacking. Wild liked to talk to him, but Tulin’s avatar seemed to be more willing to communicate with beings on a similar level.
Wild’s other companion had been a constant presence ever since he had woken up on the Great Sky Island. Well, they hadn’t appeared in this form at first. He was one of many companions who visited Wild one at a time. Today, Wild was accompanied by a mostly-incorporeal Hero of Winds.
Unlike Tulin’s avatar, Wind was fully present and intelligent in this state. Time travel magic, yada yada, they didn’t really know or care about the differences between heroes and sages. What they did know was that although Tulin was unable to process too many new thoughts or allow Wild to touch him, Wind had no such limitations. The sailor claimed that he wasn’t dead, but all three of them agreed that he was more alive than the sage’s avatar.
Which brought them to this moment, meandering around the Zora River as Wild tried to avoid stepping in the thick sludge that had invaded the area. The spirits chattered with each other, audible only in Wild’s mind.
“And that’s when I looked up and realized that the dragon’s tail was the perfect shape for my grappling hook!” Wind said.
Tulin flapped his wings excitedly. “You could use it to wiggle the ceiling loose and crush the monster!”
“Exactly!”
“Stay close, guys,” Wild said quietly. “We’re about to enter the Tabahl Woods.”
The spirits agreed to finish the story later, mostly so Wild could concentrate on their surroundings. Unlike a few years ago, no Lizalfos could be heard near this stretch of the river.
“Gloom ahead,” Tulin pointed out.
Wild glanced in that direction, spotting a churning puddle of black-rimmed red. “Good eye. We’ll stay clear of that.”
The champion brought them closer to the river, letting the patch of gloom fall behind his line of sight. He had barely passed it when he saw Tulin prepare his bow out of the corner of his eye.
“Don’t tell me I missed a Lizalfos,” Wild groaned, setting a hand on his sticksword and turning around.
His heart dropped.
Wind shouted, “What are those?”
The puddle of gloom was creeping closer, tearing across the wet grass and turning the very air red as if a blood moon had appeared mid-afternoon. Flakes and tendrils of the evil substance floated above the concentrated mess, making Wild cough as it entered his lungs. With a demonic screech, a half dozen gnarled arms rose from the gloom, each topped with a hand and a malicious eyeball staring from its palm.
“Run!” Wild yelled, tripping on his own feet as he hurried to do just that.
“I got it!” Tulin called, and Wild heard the rapid thwip of his arrows.
“It won’t work!” Wild reprimanded, sprinting mere inches ahead of snatching fingers. “I tried that last time, they- ack!”
The hand found purchase on his ankle, draining precious energy before he managed to wriggle free. The pursuit resumed immediately, rendering Wild exhausted within seconds. He had lost track of both Wind and Tulin, the spirits left behind as Wild struggled to escape. The hand gave up the chase, but any relief Wild felt was extinguished by a familiar shrill scream.
Wild whirled around, finding that the gloom hands were now preoccupied with the smaller targets. Tulin had managed to fly out of range, sending useless arrows into the monster’s eyes. Wind, however, had been surrounded completely. A hand was clamped around his face, holding him suspended in the air while his feet kicked at nothing. More hands gathered around him, grabbing and squeezing and smothering.
Wind couldn’t feel pain, but judging by his panicked cries, that didn’t matter when he could still be scared.
A surge of protectiveness gave Wild the final burst of strength he needed to run away from the monstrosity’s field of influence. The hands shrieked and shriveled in the returning sunlight, vanishing and releasing Wind.
Tulin’s avatar swooped beside Wild, who told the Rito to go scout. Wild crashed to his knees beside Wind, giving him an instinctive once-over. The boy’s translucent body was unharmed, though Wild couldn’t be completely sure. Wind was curled around himself, knees tucked to his chest and hands clamped over his ears.
“Wind, are you…” The remainder of the question faded away, and Wild tried again when the sailor didn’t move. “Wind?”
In a voice more small and broken than Wild had ever heard it, Wind asked, “Is it gone?”
“Yeah… yeah, they’re all gone.”
Wind was perfectly still, but Wild could hear muffled crying.
This was a new experience, and Wild didn’t know how to react. Wind rarely cried, putting on a brave face around the older heroes and defending himself with youthful bravado. Wild had seen him wrapped in Warriors’ scarf a few times, even hidden away in Time’s arms once or twice, but Wind had never sought comfort from Wild. With the kid so vulnerable before him now, Wild could only hope that he could balance comfort and respect so he didn’t ruin the moment.
Wild asked, “Can you try to sit up so I can see that you’re not hurt?”
Wind hiccuped and slowly pushed himself upright, keeping his hands close and his head bowed. Wavy sea glass-green hair concealed his face, and Wild carefully reached out to rest his finger under the spirit’s chin. Wind flinched the slightest bit at Wild’s touch, but allowed him to tilt his head up for inspection.
Just as Wild had expected, Wind was completely unharmed- physically, at least. His cheeks were free of marks like the ones Wild could feel burning his ankle, left behind by dragging fingernails. No bruises from being grabbed, no patches of angry flesh sizzling with remnants of gloom. Satisfied with his findings, Wild braced himself before finally looking into Wind’s eyes.
Like Tulin’s avatar, Wind’s eyes were simple pools of light that held far less emotion than his true form. So when Wild saw that they were wide and shimmering, that glowing tear tracks were streaming down Wind’s face, he knew that something was very wrong.
“Wind, please,” Wild whispered. “What can I do to help?”
A ragged wail tore through Wild’s mind, and the champion had no time to prepare himself before the spirit launched himself forward. Wind was weightless in Wild’s arms, but tangible all the same as he quickly pulled him into a proper hug. The sailor made himself as small as possible, hiding from the world as he cried. Raw sobs and hoarse screams that would have caused a lot of pain if he had been able to feel such a thing, wave after wave of catharsis that came from vocalizing pure, overwhelming fear.
Wild waited in silence, knowing that words couldn’t help this situation. He remembered how afraid he had been in the aftermath of his own first encounter with the gloom hands. Only adrenaline had kept him going long enough to reach the Mount Lanayru Skyview Tower before he had crumbled in the snow, hyperventilating and hallucinating the horrible screams.
But as scared as Wild had been, Wind’s reaction was so much worse. The boy was trapped in his panic well after Tulin gave the all clear, never calming down even a little. Was it because he was so young, or was Wind reliving trauma that Wild didn’t know about? Something more was going on, but honestly, Wild found that he didn’t care. In this moment, all he wanted to do was comfort his little brother.
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