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It was a losing fight—Twilight knew that much, but the rancher would never lose laying down. If the monsters wanted his head, they’d have to take it from him standing. The heroes were backed into a corner, exhausted and injured, struggling to find space and time to take potions and find cover. They needed an answer, and they needed one now .
Twilight’s eyes darted to Four and Warriors. They were the best strategists of them all, but Four bled from a gash in his brow and Warriors held a wound in his side even as he stood at the vanguard. There was no strategy in desperate situations, Twilight found, simply prayers.
The rancher was clever, but he needed time to be clever. Plans did not come as easily to him as they did some of his brothers. Instead, Twilight was often decisive, taking (un)calculated risks because he’d never met a problem he couldn’t simplify with his strength alone.
The rancher’s body was moving before his thoughts even gathered.
With a bellowing war cry, Twilight brought together his shield and sword in a clash, drawing the monsters’ attention. He pushed from his heels, throwing earth behind his launch as he darted into the mob. He heard Wild and Warriors cry out for him as he shoved into the horde, but any sound was swiftly lost beneath the cadence of battle.
Twilight lived for this. The drum of his heartbeat, the harmony of his adrenaline as it coursed through hot blood and strained breathing. There was a chime of anticipation through his fingers, a timbre like a horn with every scream he let out.
The Ordon blade clashed against clubs and spears. Metal pangs rang out into the air, the shiver of weapons glancing edge to edge. Black blood sprayed the rancher as he hew and slice with reckless abandon. There was no strategy, only forward momentum.
His shoulders ached, his throat was dry. The discomfort only cemented his mind further into the current of battle. His heel down, he swung his weight. A manic grin spread across his features as the edge of his sword found purchase against sturdy bones. The bite of his sword through leathery skin into raw, living flesh, the shrieks of his prey felled against his sword.
Warriors cursed to himself, sweeping his hand out to send a command to the others. “Now’s your chance!” he barked. “Heal up and get out there!”
The others were quick to act. Corks popped, sighs released. The heroes found themselves tired but pushed far away from total fatigue as red and green potions surged through them. Their second wind had come as a breeze, but the third wind was a gale.
With a howl, Wind threw himself into the fray. As quick as a riptide, the sailor cut the Phantom Sword in the back of a bokoblin’s knee. The piggish monster squealed in agony, flailing backwards in a mad swing. Wind was too quick, ducking beneath the spear. He drew his sword back and in a blur, plunged between the monster’s ribs.
Beside him, Legend threw a wave of scarlet fire. The flames licked up at the monster’s skin, blistering and burning them alive. The monsters screamed and wailed, clawing at the air for anything as the flames swept across their backs and bellies.
Warriors sliced through the melted beasts with his serrated sword, slipping between two of the felled monsters on his heel. As if he were dancing on water, the captain brought his toe down on one side and his knee up on the other. Into a quick spin, the captain lunged, his sword sawing into another three bokoblins.
Time faced down a moblin with a tight scowl, his teeth clenched. He felt blood drying on his face, sweat gathering on his palms. Vexed, the man let his temper brew in his chest and with a roar, he drove it forwards with his sword. A clean strike slipped into the moblin’s throat and a wrench of his blade took its head halfway off.
Wild ran up the falling moblin, spring from its shoulder as it went down. He lifted his bow, three arrows nocked. Thunk! Thunk! Thunk! Three bokoblins fell as the champion landed in a roll. Coming up on his feet, he drew a sharp boomerang and threw it through the air, watching as it dug into the back of another monster’s neck.
Sky gripped the Master Sword in both hands, a fierce cry erupting from him like a thunderclap as he cleaved the sword down into a moblin’s shoulder. The blade sank into its flesh, cracked through bone, and nicked the edge of its heart. A fountain of blood spurted into the afternoon sky, staining the grass and knight alike.
Four darted between the legs of a moblin, screeching to a stop on the side of his foot and throwing his weight backwards. Using his strength and momentum, the smith sank his sword into the back of the monster. He jerked it out, the blade’s shape only aiding him as he stabbed it in a second and third time.
Four dodged, as a bokoblin brought a club down. The smith rolled to the side, scooping up a rock as he came to his feet. He hurled the stone at the monster, clocking it right in the head. The bokoblin staggered directly into Hyrule’s path as the traveler thrust two fingers outwards.
Yellow lightning arced across the battlefield. It jumped from one monster to the next like a living circuit, stunning the strongest ones among them and killing the rest. Sky used his sword to carry the current, slamming it into the last moblin standing. The monster let out a gargled scream as its flesh popped and blistered.
Suddenly, there was a sword through its back, exiting through broke ribs. The moblin vanished into nothing off of the rancher’s sword.
Twilight panted, red-faced and sweaty. His eyes were glazed in bloodlust, but bright with adrenaline. His hand trembled as he wheezed for air. The battle over, the rancher’s body gave out.
He fell to his knees first and then to his palms. His elbows struggled beneath his weight before he collapsed into the grass entirely, coughing and sputtering over a feeling like cotton in his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his pulse throb in his ears, eyes, feet, and fingers.
“...perhaps one of the stupidest things you’ve ever done!” Warriors scolded. “Are you mental?! Have you no regard for your own life?! ”
Twilight looked up, coming to his senses. He groaned, rolling onto his back. He was sore, he knew was bleeding from somewhere. He only got out a chuckle, the shock numbing him to Warriors’ usual lectures.
“It worked, ain’t it?” Twilight asked.
Warriors fumed. “You’ve magic powder for brains,” the captain snapped.
Twilight let out a long sigh, laying his hand over his chest. His breath rattled, his throat tickled. He watched a cloud drift across the sky, entirely unbothered by the carnage wrought beneath its shade.
Warriors rolled his eyes, glancing towards the others. Hyrule was already concerned with Four’s head injury—or what remained of it—and Legend quietly examined the sailor’s raw elbow. The captain moved his gaze to Sky, finding the chosen hero wet with black blood. Beyond him was Time who surveyed the forest for any stragglers, but returned empty-handed.
Wild sat next to Twilight, frowning at him. “You told me not to do that,” he huffed.
Twilight looked over. “Do what?”
“Just charge in.”
Twilight hummed slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed, “do as I says, not as I does.”
Wild crooked a brow. “Time says you’re a good role model—”
“ Most of the time,” the eldest hero cut in. He regarded Twilight with a cool scowl. “You and I will speak about this later, once we’ve all had a chance to recover.”
Twilight nodded once, finding it difficult to care as the high of battle still buzzed through him. Warriors was at Twilight’s side, scrutinizing the man’s mangled arm. A spike club left a mess of pulped flesh behind, bruises spreading where the bloody flesh ended. The captain saw as far down as the bone in one place. There was little doubt adrenaline alone kept Twilight fairly oblivious to it, but adrenaline would only last—-
Twilight groaned out a swear, trying to sit up. Discomfort scribbled across his face, the rancher gasped as his muscles failed. He landed in the grass heavily, wincing as his head met the ground less than gently.
“Welcome back,” Warriors said humorlessly.
Twilight glared at the captain. “You gone help or what?” he asked through his teeth.
“Apologise for running in and I will,” Warriors said casually.
Twilight knit his brow. For a moment, the rancher was too stubborn to admit he’d done something rash and stupid. But slowly, the pain began to creep into his body. A sore back, stiff shoulders, there was something very wrong with his right knee.
“I’m waiting,” Warriors said down his nose, showing off a roll of gauze.
“I’m sorry,” Twilight replied bitterly.
“Thank you,” the captain huffed. “Drink this and hold still.”
Warriors handed Twilight a nearly empty bottle of potion. The rancher hesitated a moment, looking across the others.
“You need it most,” Warriors snipped. “Drink it or I’ll force it up your baba.”
“Violent,” Twilight grumbled, even as he pried the cork with his teeth and drained the rest of the medicine.
He shuddered over its burn in his throat, the sickly sweet, slightly spoiled taste of the herbs stewed together to make the syrup. He hacked softly, still struggling to find air as his chest rattled. Warriors frowned, watching Twilight’s labored breathing.
“You overexerted yourself,” the captain said.
“Yeah, I can tell,” Twilight hissed sarcastically.
Warriors rolled his eyes. The rancher had a horrible temper when he was unwell.
The captain watched some of Twilight’s injuries heal up. The lesser cuts and bruises faded into reddish marks and blots, the worst of them scabbed over enough that Twilight was no longer in any serious danger. The rapid healing left the rancher further exhausted, but based on the tremor in his muscles, he wouldn’t be getting up anytime soon anyway.
Warriors pushed up Twilight’s top and chainmail, scowling at a dark cloud of bruising around his ribs. He gently drew his fingers across it, grimacing as he found a slight bulge beneath the rancher’s chest.
Twilight squirmed, a whine leaving his throat. “St-stop that,” he snapped, tears filling his eyes.
“It’s broken,” Warriors said.
Twilight sniffled, struggling to lift his arm enough to wipe his face. “It hurts.”
“Yes, I’d imagine so. Hold still now.”
Twilight let out a gasp of pain, fingers digging into the earth as Warriors set the bone. An onslaught of horrible memories flooded the rancher. He screwed his eyes shut with a whimper, turning his head away from the captain.
“Wild,” Warriors said, “would you start a fire? The rest of you prepare for camp as soon as you’re able. We’ll be here a while.”
Twilight shook his head petulantly. “I’m fi agh! ”
Warriors pushed on the rancher’s injured knee. “Of course you are,” he said.
Twilight only groaned, covering his face with his hands. Even through the pain, the rancher’s exhaustion overwhelmed him. As Warriors poked and prodded, applying care where he could, Twilight couldn’t help but give into his fatigue. He let out a long wheeze, eyes falling shut as he fell asleep beneath the afternoon sun.