Archive of Our Own ^beta

Underneath a carefully crafted armor of flair, verbosity, and grandeur, Revali considers himself to be strictly methodical and to the point. He is the streamlined strategy behind an attack, an arrow piercing the sky towards its target, and the endless hours of training needed to reach a nearly impossible goal. Revali sees the world through the sharp eyes of a Rito warrior, and any warrior worthy of their title must be able to notice, analyze, and use the patterns that define every living being — be it an opponent or an ally — to their advantage. Exact calculations are his realm of expertise, and he prides himself in being one step ahead of any situation, no matter how dire or outrageous.

Which is precisely why his inability to comprehend Link’s role as a Champion — or the knight’s personality, for that matter — is such a thorn in his side.

The other Champions are not hard to read. Daruk is as straightforward as can be; all brawn and boundless enthusiasm with a powerful (and somewhat contagious) love for the simple things in life. Revali often finds him a little grating, but he knows a worthy ally when he sees one, and he would be lying if he claimed not to find Daruk’s presence comforting.

Initially, Revali expected Mipha to be all pomp and pleasantries to make up for pitiful battle skills, for he has never harbored anything but disdain towards royalty. He was proven wrong the moment he saw her spar against Daruk, however. Though small and deceptively frail-looking, the Zora Princess’ skill with her trident is second to none, and her healing abilities are a priceless asset to their cause. She is as kind and honest as she is fierce, and Revali is surprised to discover he genuinely enjoys her company.

Urbosa is a force of nature in every sense of the word. She is powerful beyond reason, intimidating, and rambunctious — the only Champion Revali would ever admit to fearing, be it in a battle of strength or wit. She has rightfully earned her position as Chief with her prowess and wisdom, yet she has no shortage of kindness despite her sharp tongue. In more than one occasion, Revali has borne witness to her motherly instincts towards Princess Zelda, and while he would be pressed to ever seek such comfort from her, he knows the power of encouraging words all too well.

Princess Zelda’s plight is Hyrule’s worst kept secret: her alleged sealing power refuses to awaken despite her tireless efforts, and, although Revali is far from well-versed in the matters of the sacred realm, he knows hers to be an important role. It stands to reason that an inexplicable eldritch horror can only be sealed away by a power beyond mortal comprehension, while the responsibility of defeating the Calamity’s physical form falls on the Champions and their Divine Beasts. Revali can understand this logic, even if it fills him with a heavy dread he diligently stomps on every day.

And then, there is Link. The one piece that does not fit in at all.

Link, whose featherless face never shows an inkling of emotion, but everyone seems to adore him. Link, who does not speak or communicate in any way besides the occasional nod, yet the endless rumors and stories that trail behind him are louder than a flock of Cuccos. Link, a rupee-a-dozen knight of questionable skill who has somehow been placed above the other, better qualified Champions, and given the honor of slaying Calamity Ganon by virtue of the legendary blade he just so happened to pull from its pedestal.

It is simply ludicrous, and it makes Revali’s blood boil just thinking about it.

Determined to give Link the benefit of the doubt — let it be known that the Great Revali is nothing if not gracious — Revali had sought the knight out and let him witness his Gale, thinking such a magnificent display would make Link rise to the challenge he was clearly issuing. A simple duel would suffice to demonstrate Revali was the more capable of the two, leaving King Rhoam no choice but to admit Link’s appointment was naught but a mistake.

Of course, Revali did not count on his plan failing miserably.

“Can you believe it, Medoh?” Revali storms down the corridors of his Divine Beast in a whirlwind of feathers, the clack of his sharp talons against rock echoing off the walls. “I gave him the privilege of seeing my Gale in action, and his face didn’t change in the slightest! Nothing! No reaction at all to my impressive feat!”

Medoh remains calm as ever, save for a quiet hum tinged with amusement. Revali scoffs.

“It’s like talking to a stone! I can never tell what's on his mind.”

Likely nothing at all, he muses. Link’s gaze is so incredibly blank Revali sometimes wonders if the knight pays any attention to the world around him. He assumes the failed assassination attempts against Zelda prove Link is observant enough, but Revali doubts that extends past his role as the Princess’ faithful dog. At the very least, it is clear to the Rito that Link does not deem him worthy of acknowledgement, as baffling of a thought that is.

Alright, then. Two can play that game.

“Well, he is clearly not worth my time, so I refuse to waste it on the likes of him.” Revali approaches one of the Beast’s secondary terminals, and he taps on the screen with an angry flick of his wing, adjusting his companion’s course for the evening. If Revali just so happens to increase Medoh’s altitude to its limit, that has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to put as much distance between him and Link as possible. “Once he inevitably fails at defeating the Calamity, that honor will become rightfully mine, and his reputation will be ruined.”

Even through the deafening creak of Medoh’s gears as it tilts upward, Revali’s ears pick up a pointed cry heavy with disapproval. He can feel the Divine Beast’s all-knowing gaze, a palpable weight in the air surrounding him, and his feathers droop despite himself. Deep down, Revali knows he cannot afford to wish an ally any ill with the prospect of war looming so heavily over them. Whether Link is worthy of such an honor — he is not, how could he be? — does not matter in the grand scheme of things. The Champions simply need to succeed, and if Revali must avoid the knight entirely to keep himself focused on the task at hand, that is exactly what he will do.

Besides which, there must be some inkling of truth to the rumors surrounding Link if he was chosen to try and pull that stupid sword in the first place. If the King entrusted his own daughter to him.

“I suppose he can fumble his way through his job, and I’ll excel at mine, as always,” Revali crouches and gently strokes the floor with his feathers, seeking to placate his companion. After a beat of silence, Medoh whirrs contentedly and the pressure in the air subsides. A grin pulls at Revali’s beak as he summons his Gale to fly alongside Medoh, a glint of fiery determination shining in his eyes. “And, once the Calamity is dealt with, I’ll show him the might of a true warrior. Whether he likes it or not.”

The sky is a dark canvas of purples and deep blues with the occasional glow of a star by the time Revali returns to Rito Village. By now, he is certain the pesky knight and his charge must be well on their way back to the castle, exactly as he intended. The Elder will probably chew him out for not giving Princess Zelda a proper farewell, and Revali is not looking forward to it, but he will live. His resolve to keep his distance from Link from now on will not be shaken, and pointless pleasantries have never been his forte anyway.

His gurgling, empty stomach suggests he might have overdone his waiting, however.

As Revali makes his way to the general store, hoping to restock on some ingredients for a quick meal back at the comfort of his roost, a heavenly smell wafting from the communal kitchen stops him dead in his tracks. Rito usually have dinner way before sundown, so he is surprised to see a group of villagers gathered around the hearth this late. One of them, a pudgy yellow fledgling named Telia, chirps in delight upon spotting Revali.

“Mister Revali!” She trots towards him, waving her little wings. Revali’s hands twitch at the sight of her waddling, for it seems likely she will fall on her face, but he keeps his wings stubbornly folded behind his back. “You finally showed up! We saved you some food.”

Revali does not fight the smile that tugs at the corners of his beak, and he gives in and pets the child’s head with his wingtip. Just once. “I appreciate the gesture, little one, but that wasn’t necessary. I can feed myself just fine.”

Telia squawks, and her eyes become impossibly wide. “But there is so much of it! Mister Link made enough to feed the entire village!”

Revali’s good mood plunges straight into Lake Totori, and his smile is washed off his face in an instant. Of course the knight would find a way to get under his skin when his guard is down, of plucking course.

Cooking is not what Revali would have expected, though.

“…Did he, now?” He asks, his voice tinny.

“Yeah!” Telia chirps, blissfully unaware of Revali’s inner turmoil. “See, I was trying to make salmon meuniere for my family, but I got distracted and… it burned.” Her hands tug at the hem of her frock and, upon closer inspection, Revali can see that her clothes are covered in flour and grease stains. “I was about to cry when mister Link came here and saved the day!”

What a hero in shining armor. Revali scoffs and lifts his gaze towards the cooking pot, careful to look as disdainful as possible. He cocks an eyebrow in suspicion when he sees its contents, still simmering on weak embers to keep them warm in the night chill.

“That certainly doesn’t look like salmon meuniere.”

“It’s seafood fried rice!” Telia turns around and quickly gestures at someone to fill up a bowl for Revali, giving him no time to protest. “He said— well, the Princess said it’s a recipe his sister loves, so he made tons of it for everyone to share. Isn’t that cool?”

Before Revali can say exactly how “cool” he finds it to be, a steaming bowl of piping hot rice is placed on his hands. Suppressing an annoyed sigh, he barks out a “thank you” and moves to sit on one of the empty cushions surrounding the cooking station. The other Rito wave and chirp their hellos at Revali, but the Champion’s mind is entirely focused on the offending dish in front of him. Though it pains him to admit it, the rice looks perfectly cooked, and the rich smell of butter, spices, and what appear to be hearty blueshell snails makes his mouth water.

“Come on, try it!” Telia’s cheerful voice snaps Revali out of his scrutiny, and he blinks at the eager child’s face mere inches away from his. He has no way out of this predicament.

He takes a small, hesitant bite, and he promptly freezes.

The Goddess must be playing some elaborate prank on him, because this fried rice is one of the best things Revali has ever tasted. He has to hold himself back from immediately going in for a second bite, and he schools his expression into what he hopes is the very picture of indifference.

“…Acceptable.” Revali declares, and he curses inwardly when Telia’s giggling makes it painfully clear she does not believe his façade one bit. He is endlessly grateful when Telia’s mother drags her to their roost for the night, and he is left to enjoy his meal to his heart’s content. He tries to participate in the conversations taking place around him, offering a word or two here and there, but he is simply too distracted. Revali’s thoughts keep circling back to the knight despite his best efforts, and his accursed brain will not stop drawing unwanted conclusions as he slowly finishes his food with as much poise as he can muster.

So, Link has a sister. One he cherishes if he has a mind to remember her favorite recipes and tell the Princess about them. Given the knight’s impassive demeanor around people who openly call him a friend, Revali would not have pegged Link as the type to enthuse over a loved one — or anything at all, really.

Also, and much to Revali’s annoyance, Link is quite a good cook. Presumably a glutton too, if the outrageous amount of food he made today was originally only meant to feed Telia’s family. Who in the village had that much rice in their pantry for Link to use, anyway? Where did the knight even find hearty blueshell snails so far from the ocean? Revali decides those questions are best left unanswered.

More importantly, Link is willing to help a complete stranger with a menial task for no reason other than cheering them up, and that—

Revali does not know what to do with that information. The mere thought of listless, stoic Link being kind — kinder than Revali will ever be — makes the Rito feel adrift in a current he has no control over, as if the winds he has painstakingly mastered had turned into water.

Later that night, in the safety of his hammock, Revali dreams of a familiar blond figure crouched by a fire, stirring the contents of a bubbling pot with a wooden ladle. The flickering flames cast an otherworldly glow on his strange Hylian features, and Revali thinks he sees the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Upon waking, before consciousness can wash away the lingering traces of his dream, the Rito is left with the inexplicable notion that a ladle suits Link better than the sword that seals the darkness.

If Revali were to be perfectly honest, he has never harbored much appreciation for the Lanayru region. It is too humid for his liking, there are too many monsters lurking about, and the constant showers make flying decidedly less enjoyable. In Revali’s opinion, Mipha should be honored he considers her reason enough to make the long trip all the way from Hebra just to have a friendly sparring session with her.

Well, perhaps he may also be interested in the local arrow selection. Ice arrows are surprisingly hard to come by in Rito Village, and hunting icy lizalfos in hopes they will drop any is simply not profitable.

Zora’s Domain is almost beautiful enough to make up for Revali’s discomfort.

He makes a graceful landing on the Great Zora Bridge, shaking water off his plumage. The light rain that followed him from the Lanayru Wetlands has finally subsided, and he is eager for his feathers to dry properly as he takes a leisurely stroll towards the Domain, admiring the glowing scenery. Zora architecture is always a sight to behold, and the afternoon sun cascading over intricate blue pillars makes Revali feel like he is entering a delicate treasure trove.

He is distracted from his musings by the sound of echoing footsteps rapidly getting closer. A young Zora guard with a blinding smile jogs his way, waving at Revali to get his attention.

“Champion Revali!” He comes to a stop in front of the Rito and offers him a brief bow. Revali inwardly preens at the display of respect. “It is such a delight to meet you at long last! Princess Mipha awaits you at Veiled Falls, directly west of the Domain.” The guard points to a small waterfall not far from the bridge, which is surrounded by a narrow ledge of soft greenery and glittering cliffs of luminous stone. “It is a prime training spot for us Zoras. I am certain you will find it to your liking.”

So much for dry feathers, Revali thinks bitterly upon gazing at the splashing water, yet he must admit the location appears to be a balanced training ground for him and Mipha. The downward current and shallow ponds play to Mipha’s strengths, while the surrounding cliffs and ledges offer ample ground for Revali to perch and make use of his Gale. Leave it to the Zora Champion to be this thoughtful about a simple sparring session.

“It will certainly suffice, thank you. I will join her shortly.”

The guard bows once again, and he flashes Revali a toothy grin before leaving him to his own devices. The Rito walks the rest of the way to the Domain with a slight bounce to his step, and he is debating whether he should restock on arrows when the sound of laughter directs his attention towards the main plaza.

Running in circles around a quaint fish-shaped fountain surrounded by shallow water, two Zora children play with wooden swords of Hylian make, which strikes Revali as rather odd. It is clear they have undergone some degree of combat training, too, for their movements are far too calculated to be a simple game. Before Revali can analyze the scene any further, one of the boys stops with his back to the Rito and he switches his stance, stretching his sword arm to the side. With a loud battle cry, he unleashes a messy spin attack on his friend, splashing water everywhere around him.

Revali barely manages to close his eyes before getting soaked from head to talon. Zero chances of staying dry today, it seems.

There is a panicked squeak and the sound of wood hitting water before the offending child comes running at Revali, and he immediately bows deeply enough for his tiny head to almost touch the ground.

“I’m so sorry, sir!” The boy bows over and over, looking positively mortified. His sword lies forgotten on the floor, and the other Zora swiftly picks it up as he walks towards them. “I didn’t see you there, I swear! Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, no harm done.” Revali dismisses his fussing with a flick of his wing, and he ruffles his feathers to dry himself off, trying to regain some semblance of dignity. “You ought to be more careful with that sword, however. A true warrior must be aware of their surroundings at all times.” Revali adjusts the Champion scarf around his neck, and he smirks when the child’s eyes light up with recognition.

“Are you the Rito Champ—?!”

“Isn’t that what Link used to say?” The other Zora interrupts, throwing an arm around his friend’s shoulder. Revali bristles at the sound of the knight’s name, and a budding headache immediately makes itself known.

You cannot be serious.

“Can’t believe you forgot, Bazz!” The boy carries on, oblivious to Revali’s misery. “That’s why we’re training! To be just like him!”

Oh, for the love of —

Revali has never been good at mincing his words when his temper gets the best of him, and today is no exception. “By the looks of that appalling fighting stance, I’d say you’re almost there.” He spits before he can think better of it.

There is a beat of blissful silence, and then…

“You know Link?!” The children yell in unison, gaping at Revali and completely ignoring the very obvious insult he just casually threw their way. The Rito grimaces.

Hylia, give me strength. “… You could say that.”

The gleeful squeals that ensue do little to soothe Revali’s throbbing head, and he is completely taken aback when the Zoras begin to speak over each other faster than Revali can even begin to process.

“Link is amazing! He taught me how to swordfight, and my friend Rivan how to swim!”

“We used to play all the time! He was so much fun!”

“You see, his father is a famous knight, and so is mine, so—”

“But now he rarely visits—”

“And he doesn’t speak anymore.”

“Yeah, I wonder why…”

“He is almost an adult now, isn’t he? I’m so jealous!”

“Hylians age faster, that’s what Lady Mipha told us, remember?”

The children — Bazz and Rivan, it seems — keep talking rapid-fire in their boundless enthusiasm, their little fish tails bobbing up and down, and Revali gives up trying to keep up. Instead, Revali’s mind clings to the small bits of information he did manage to hear, and he finds himself begrudgingly dissecting them.

Revali knew Link and Mipha were childhood friends, but whenever he thought of it, he would picture the knight’s younger self as a silent, blank-eyed child that would just listlessly follow Mipha around; just like he shadows Princess Zelda. But these children speak of a normal boy who would often come play and teach them his own skills. They rave about a child who used to talk, laugh, and have fun like them before he became the person he is today.

What exactly happened to Link? When did he become the silent knight Revali loathes?

Do you loathe him, really? A tiny voice in the back of his mind pipes in, seeping through his anger like dew on dry soil. Revali thinks it sounds suspiciously like Medoh, and he is quick to dismiss it.

“— But that’s alright! He’ll always be a member of the Big Bad Bazz Brigade!”

Revali blinks, realizing the children’s prattle has come to an end, and that both of them are staring at him expectantly. Hylia, do they expect him to rave about Link as well?

If there is something Revali has learned as part of the Rito, a culture where your children are everyone’s children, is that there is only one way to take a child’s mind off something they are extremely interested in: you simply offer them something better.

“You two have more than enough stories about that kni— about Link, I believe.” Revali stretches his wings and crouches by the Zoras, summoning a burst of his Gale to circle him. The wind carries fountain water into the air, creating a small whirlpool around Revali, and Bazz and Rivan gasp, awestruck. “How about I show you something truly wondrous instead?”

The boys cheer and throw their fins up in the air in excitement, a stark contrast to Link’s reaction to the same feat. As Revali soars over the shimmering halls of Zora’s Domain with an elegant twirl, he wonders if the knight’s eyes have ever lit up with the same childlike wonder he sees in every curious face turned his way.

His wings almost falter when he realizes he would give plenty to witness such a sight. Revali swiftly shrugs off that senseless wish, flying ever higher while the water his Gale lifted trickles down like rain.

Among the many things Rito culture cherishes, the age-old custom of mail delivery holds a special place in most people’s hearts. Every Rito grows up hearing tales of an ancient time when Hyrule was ravaged by a flood, becoming nothing but scattered islands. An era where Rito were the only ones able to traverse the skies to deliver letters across the ocean, connecting people to their loved ones. Even nowadays, there are still a couple Rito who uphold the tradition with pride, and they are treated with the utmost respect.

Revali is no exception to these displays of appreciation. Even though the profession has never called to him, he considers anything that displays a Rito’s mastery of the skies to be a worthy endeavor, and he knows first-hand being a lone traveler is no easy feat. Especially in times like these, with the impending Calamity calling forth hordes upon hordes of monsters to roam the land and terrorize its inhabitants.

That deeply rooted admiration is why, when a severely injured mail carrier stumbles his way back into Rito Village, Revali cannot bring himself to refuse his request to deliver a letter to the innkeeper in Hateno. After all, he is undoubtedly the best person for the job.

After a long and arduous trip, Revali knows he is close to his destination when Mount Lanayru becomes a towering presence in front of him, and he catches the distant sight of old windmills and colorful smoke under the bright afternoon sun. He heaves a sigh of relief, glancing at the worn satchel at his hip to make sure it is still intact.

A few moments later, Revali makes a smooth landing near the entrance to Hateno Village, amidst a group of curious onlookers. A few whispers here and there tell him he is recognized, and he cannot help but puff out his chest in pride as he walks into the village, surveying his surroundings. The town is small, but quite lively; full of farmers merrily carrying their produce, wandering merchants, and people going on about their daily chores. Revali walks past a couple stores, an odd-smelling dye shop, and a noisy tavern before arriving at the wooden stairs leading to the village’s only inn.

The young innkeeper brightens up upon spotting Revali, and she thanks him profusely for the letter he hands to her, shaking his hand over and over. She insists on treating him to a hot meal as thanks, and Revali, more flattered than he would ever be willing to admit, accepts.

As he enjoys his lunch in the privacy of an empty balcony, Revali catches sight of a sudden ruckus in the streets below: several Cuccos cluck and flutter around the center of town, leaving a trail of colorful feathers as a little blond girl chases after them, screaming and waving her arms.

They must have escaped from their coop, Revali huffs to himself in amusement while the child struggles to grab two squirming birds at once. Some people step in to help her, while others simply laugh and call out to her as she runs by. Revali shakes his head and smiles despite himself. No matter where he goes, fledglings are all troublemakers.

By the time he thanks the innkeeper and takes his leave, the commotion has died out. Revali is searching for an ideal spot to unleash his Gale and return home when he hears someone yell his name. His shoulders give a slight start, and he looks around, but nobody is looking at him or trying to get his attention.

Strange, I could’ve sworn—

“Revali! Come back ‘ere you little—!”

Revali has no time to brace himself. The girl from earlier comes barreling straight into his stomach, and the solitary Cucco she is chasing runs between the Rito’s talons to get lost in nearby greenery. The impact is strong enough to make the child fall on her rear end, and she groans in pain as she sits up.

“… Are you alright?” Revali prods, more than a little rattled himself.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” The girl slowly stands up with a wince, and she dusts her dress and apron with rough movements. A second later, she freezes and looks up at Revali, as if his presence had only now registered. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I was chasing my—”

She falls silent when her gaze lands on Revali’s scarf, her mouth forming a perfect “o”. Now that Revali can get a proper look at her, he sees that her wide eyes are bright blue and oddly familiar. Light freckles dust her round cheeks, and her short blond hair is held neatly in place by a brown headband.

“You’re… you’re Champion Revali!” She squeaks, pointing at him.

“I would have assumed you knew that already, since you were calling out my name when you ran straight into me.” Revali scoffs, raising an eyebrow and crossing his wings. The girl blushes furiously and slaps her forehead, groaning.

“Oh Goddess, alright… I wasn’t… um…” She drags a hand down her face, leaving streaks of dirt all over it. Revali grimaces. “I was… calling after my Cucco. His name’s Revali. I kinda… named him after you?” The girl hides her hands behind her back and shuffles her feet, peeking at Revali from under her short bangs.

Revali decidedly does not gape at her.

“Pardon me, you did what?” No, his voice does not crack.

The girl still looks sheepish, but there is a particular glint in her eyes that tells Revali she is not truly remorseful. 

“He deserved a good name! And my brother has told me tons about the Princess and his fellow Champions so I just—" She gasps and falls silent, pressing her lips together into a thin line.

Revali’s spiraling thoughts about a measly, clucking Cucco carrying his honorable name come to a grinding halt when he processes the words that just left the girl’s mouth.

“…Your brother, you say?”

The child sighs, and Revali swears he hears her curse under her breath. 

“Guess I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Aryll… Link’s sister”. She offers Revali a hesitant smile that makes her eyes crinkle, and the Rito belatedly realizes why that blue looked so familiar.

He hates that it felt familiar in the first place.

This is utterly ridiculous, Revali thinks, his feathers puffing up in agitation. Is there no corner of Hyrule I can visit without hearing that wretched knight’s name?!

“Please don’t be mad!” Aryll extends her hands in a placating gesture. “I know you don’t like Link, but he admires you a lot!”

Revali has to snort at that. As far as he is aware, admiration does not come in the form of complete and utter indifference.

He is about to point that out to Aryll when the shrill sound of a bird crowing startles them both. They glance up at the closest rooftop to find the runaway Cucco staring directly at them, looking a little too smug for a creature its size.

“Not again!” Aryll whines. “Rev, come back ‘ere! I’ll get yelled at if I climb after you!”

The Cucco pecks at the tiles, unperturbed. Aryll heaves a deep sigh and steps towards the nearest wall, fixing Revali with an apologetic look as she starts to climb.

The Rito places a hand on Aryll’s shoulder, stopping her.

“Allow me.” Revali calls forth his Gale and shoots towards the sky with the precision of an arrow, high above the village. Looking down, he sees that the Cucco is running in circles on the rooftop, spooked by the sudden gust of wind. Revali sweeps down and grabs it with his talons as gently as possible, placing it on Aryll’s open arms before landing in front of her with a smooth backflip.

The girl openly gapes at Revali as she clutches the frazzled bird to her chest, eyes lit with awe.

“Feel free to thank me now,” Revali smirks, placing his hands on his hips.

Aryll’s face splits into a grin, and she chokes out a laugh. 

“He really wasn’t kidding, huh?” She tells her Cucco, giving its feathers an affectionate stroke. She stares at Revali with unabashed appreciation. “Link told me your Gale was the most incredible thing he’d ever seen, but I always thought he was exaggerating.”

Like the sharp blow of a blunt weapon to his gut, Revali feels all the air in his lungs abandon him at once. He opens and closes his beak, grasping for something disdainful to say, anything that will make him regain some semblance of control over this nonsensical conversation; over the strange, unwanted elation he feels rushing through his veins, but nothing comes out except a breathless, pitiful scoff.

Revali is, for once in his life, at a loss for words.

Aryll must see disbelief painted clear as day on his face for she gives Revali a sad, knowing smile that looks jarringly old on such a young face. She turns around with her Cucco in tow, beckoning Revali to follow with a jerk of her head. “Will you come with me? There’s something I wanna show you.”

They walk in silence. For a moment, Revali thinks Aryll is guiding him back to the eastern entrance of the village, but she takes a side path up a gentle slope where a couple houses with modest gardens are clustered together. The few people they encounter here wave and greet Aryll like an old friend, and her grin never wavers as she greets them back, cracking jokes and making small talk. As Revali observes her, he cannot help but compare Aryll’s easygoing, chatty personality to Link’s, and he wonders how they can possibly be related.

They are both loved by everyone, his mind unhelpfully supplies. Unlike you.

Revali dismisses the thought with an irritated shake of his head. He has never had any need for anyone’s love, only for his prowess to be properly acknowledged and respected, and he is not about to change that now.

At the very top of the slope sits a wooden bridge separating a solitary home with a crooked chimney from the rest of the village. Even from a distance, Revali can hear the loud clucking of Cuccos, and a warm breeze carries the smell of wet soil, hay, and manure to them.

Beckoning Revali to follow once again, Aryll walks over to the noisy coop attached to the house, and she deposits the runaway bird inside the enclosure, where no fewer than fifteen Cuccos flutter about. While the bird hurries away to join the others, Revali notices that a few of them have tiny bandanas wrapped around their necks, blue as the skies above.

His namesake included.

As if reading his mind, Aryll points at one of the adorned Cuccos, a clearly older, dignified bird that leisurely wades through a puddle of water.

“That old lady over there is Mipha.” Aryll’s voice is subdued and laced with affection, and Revali’s breath catches at the familiar name. “Link named her when we were younger, after his dear Zora friend. And… oh!” She crouches by the fence, offering some grain to an alarmingly big Cucco. The bird eagerly pecks at the food on Aryll’s hand, blissfully unaware of Revali’s presence. “This one is Daruk, our biggest and friendliest boy!”

“Resemblance is uncanny,” Revali murmurs in a monotone voice. He squawks and takes a step back when a smaller Cucco jumps on top of the fence to take a better look at him, head cocked to the side. Aryll snorts.

“That one is Zelda. She’s super curious as you can see.” Aryll offers out her arm, and the bird jumps on it without hesitation, still fixing Revali with an unblinking, piercing stare. The Rito is starkly reminded of the day the Princess begged him to become a Champion. “And the one by your feet is Urbosa,” Aryll adds with a giggle.

A timely peck to Revali’s right talon directs his gaze downward, where an angry Cucco seems determined to ensure Revali keeps his distance from the coop. Revali takes another step back for good measure, glaring daggers at the bird.

“Ain’t she something else? Very protective.” Aryll grins at Revali, then ushers the fugitive birds back inside the coop before jumping in herself. After some panicked clucking and a flurry of feathers, she returns to Revali’s side carrying the Cucco from earlier, which looks quite displeased to be in Aryll’s arms again.

“You already met this troublemaker. He’s stubborn, proud, and mean like a certain someone.” Aryll playfully nudges Revali’s side, and the Rito clacks his beak indignantly, glowering at her. Aryll winks at him, unperturbed. “Or so I’ve been told by a little bird.”

Has Link been talking about Revali behind his back?!

“That ‘little bird’ could at least have the decency to say that to my face,” Revali mutters, clenching his fists. “Hylia knows I’ve given him a piece of my mind already.” And it felt like talking to a statue, he does not say.

The sad, weary smile is back on Aryll’s face in an instant, looking just as out of place as before. Revali averts his gaze awkwardly.

“Link, he…” Aryll pauses, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. “He rarely talks to most people these days. Too many eyes on him, too many expectations, y’know? He thinks it best to just—” she presses her thumb and index finger together and swipes them across her lips in an imaginary lock, changing her expression to an emotionless one, “—and endure it all.”

Stone-faced like that, Aryll is the spitting image of her brother.

Maybe it is the familiar look on Aryll’s face; or maybe the new puzzle pieces that slot into place against Revali’s will, leading him towards an understanding of Link he has never asked for. All Revali knows is the abrupt, defensive anger that roils in his chest and bubbles to the surface, overflowing in the words that leave his beak.

“That’s utterly absurd,” Revali sneers, letting disgust paint his features in wide, furious strokes. “People all over Hyrule loudly sing their praises about that knight and his… alleged feats. You can’t escape his wretched name even if you try! Link this, Link that!” 

Revali paces from side to side, gesturing with his wings in sweeping motions. Through it all, Aryll remains silent. 

“He was chosen over skilled, seasoned warriors by a fluke of fate, yet everyone adores and trusts him blindly. Do you mean to tell me he hides behind a silent mask because such an honor weighs on him?!” Revali stops in front of Aryll, looking at the sky with an irritated sigh. “It’s simply ludicrous!”

“Is it?” Aryll’s voice is quiet compared to Revali’s outburst, but it cuts through the air like a whip, forcing Revali to meet the girl’s eyes. The anger he finds in their depths floods his veins with ice. “He was barely older than me when he pulled the Master Sword and people started treating him like some legendary hero. Nobody saw him as a kid anymore even though he was still the same Link. They sent him to the barracks before dad even taught him how to shave, and everyone thinks we should be proud! Happy for him!” 

Without breaking eye contact, Aryll steps into Revali’s personal space, completely undaunted by their height difference. She steps on her toes to jab an accusing finger into Revali’s chest while the Cucco under her arm clucks in distress. Revali tries his best not to flinch.

“Tell me, Champion Revali: would you trust a kid like me to save Hyrule?” Aryll cocks her head to the side and, to Revali’s dismay, he sees tears gather in the corners of her eyes. “Do you really think Link trusts himself not to fail?”

The sickening guilt pooling in Revali’s gut provides the answer for him, one he has known deep down for a long time, and his feathers droop in shame.

No. No, he doesn’t.

All the fight seems to leave Aryll at once. She plants her heels on the ground and steps away from Revali, swiping at her eyes with her free hand.

“That’s why he admires you and the Champions so much. You’re helping him carry that burden, and you’re doing it willingly.” Aryll murmurs, clutching the nervous Cucco to her chest. Her gaze meets Revali’s once more, and the Rito is struck with the aching thought that no child should ever look so jaded. “He never had a choice.”

Revali’s wing moves of its own accord, patting Aryll’s head with a gentleness he did not know he possessed. The girl freezes, eyes impossibly wide.

“It appears my anger was misplaced, I… apologize,” Revali chokes out, a bitter taste filling his mouth at the admission. “For what it’s worth, I believe that brother of yours would be… happy, I suppose, to have someone defend him so fiercely.”

There is a moment of stillness before a watery laugh bubbles out of Aryll, and she bumps a fist against her chest with a genuine, cheeky smile. 

“That’s what I’m here for! And if I’m not scary enough, a flock of Cuccos sure make a fine weapon.”

Revali guffaws, eyeing the bird in Aryll’s grasp with grudging respect. He has heard enough stories about Cucco attacks to know their harmless appearance is but a façade.

Aryll’s eyes follow his gaze, and her face splits into a playful grin that gives him pause.

“Do you wanna see why I named him Revali?” She asks, face bright with mischief. Without waiting for a reply, she takes off running with surprising speed towards a nearby cliff, with the Cucco held high above her head. Revali is stunned for a split second before he curses and chases after Aryll, readying his wings to fly and catch her if needed.

Aryll jumps off the ledge with a loud cheer, and she soars. The bird flaps its wings fast enough for them to become a blur, and it rides the wind with a strength and control that should be impossible for a creature its size, carrying the girl like she weighs nothing. Revali has seen Cuccos carry Hylians through the air before, but none of them had managed to stay airborne for more than a couple seconds, rapidly losing altitude due to their tiny wings. This bird sure is... something special.

Revali must admit the Cucco was aptly named, and he does not suppress the proud smile tugging at his beak as he takes off the ledge to give the girl chase.

It does not take him long to catch up to Aryll, and she grins at him, hooting and swinging her legs in midair. Joyful like this, Aryll looks every ounce the carefree child she deserves to be. The child Link must have been a long, long time ago, before he touched the sword of legend.

It makes Revali’s chest feel tight despite the euphoria of flying.

Willing his smile not to falter, Revali leisurely twirls around Aryll as they fly down the road leading to Hateno Village, over the nearby woods and beyond, before coming to a stop near the calm waters of Camphor Pond. Upon landing, Aryll cradles the disgruntled bird in her arms, soothing it with reassurances.

“I meant what I said earlier,” she says, still a little out of breath. Revali tilts his head in a silent query. “Link was so amazed by your Gale he refused to have me name any other Cucco after you. It had to be the very best at flying, nothing less.”

The tightness in Revali’s chest subsides, leaving room for an odd, giddy fluttering against his ribcage that is not entirely unpleasant. This time, Aryll’s words ring true in Revali’s ears, washing over him like a gentle tide.

“I suppose I can find it in my gracious heart to give him another demonstration, then.” Revali drawls, staring back at the village with his wings folded behind his back. Perhaps he will be able to coax a genuine reaction out of Link on their next encounter, now that he knows what lurks beneath his well-crafted mask. It is just a matter of finding the precise moment to strike, and Revali is nothing short of a perfectionist.

By his side, Aryll beams in approval, and the pond at their backs shimmers like a jewel under the setting sun.

In spite of his recent revelations, Revali does not seek Link out after meeting his sister. He may understand some things about the knight better, but his pride will always place first and second on his list of priorities, and Revali will not stoop so low as to approach Link twice out of his own volition. The extraordinary display of his Gale may have been ignored the first time around, but, if Aryll is correct, it should still linger in Link’s mind. And if something amazes you once, you are bound to seek it out a second time. Or so he tells himself.

Instead, he carries on with his relentless training and he waits. Many would argue it is far from the most efficient course of action, but Revali is well acquainted with the Goddess’ wicked sense of humor by now. He is positive she will dump a certain Hylian right at his doorstep when he least expects it, just to mess with him one more time.

That conviction makes Revali hyperaware of his surroundings, which is how he notices when it happens.

It begins with a slight discrepancy with the targets at the Flight Range. Every evening, Revali painstakingly replaces them all in preparation for the next training session. After that, he checks the stack of spares tucked at the base of the cabin, and, if numbers are running low, he takes a little detour to Rospro Pass on his way home to pay the local carpenter a visit. This routine keeps things efficient, and Revali makes absolute certain his fellow Rito follow it to the letter when he is not around due to Champion-related matters.

When Revali arrives one morning to a slightly smaller stockpile of spare targets, he is immediately filled with suspicion. It is barely the crack of dawn, so nobody could have beat Revali to his morning drills, and he is always the last to leave every evening. He rules out a nighttime archery session as well; Rito rarely wander beyond the confines of Lake Totori when it is dark, for their night vision leaves a lot to be desired.

Which only leaves the possibility of a non-Rito visitor.

But how? Revali ponders, legs braced on the edge of the landing as he leans forward to inspect the chasm. Only a Rito could make proper use of the updrafts and shoot at the targets without breaking their neck.

His sharp eyes catch the glint of metal far down below, and he dives to the bottom of the ravine to investigate, keeping his wings pressed to his sides to avoid the strong air currents. His talons scramble for purchase on the slippery rocks upon landing, and a quick survey of the area reveals several wood splinters, damaged arrows, and bow fragments scattered about, either floating on the freezing waters or tossing and turning in the wind. Revali’s growing suspicions are confirmed when he snatches a couple broken arrows and the remains of a bow to inspect them, and he heaves a deep, weary sigh.

Cucco feather fletchings, a tell-tale sign of lesser, Hylian manufacture, and an utterly destroyed Knight’s Bow. Revali has seen its kind many times before, strapped to the back of a Champion-blue tunic.

Really, now?

Revali opens his wings and lets the updrafts take him back to the landing. He strolls inside the hut and takes a seat by the unlit cooking fire, waving a hand over it. It is lukewarm, as if used less than an hour ago, and it does not come as a surprise.

Crossing his wings, Revali takes a moment to think and weigh his options. It does not take him long to devise a simple plan, and he tries his best to push it to the back of his mind as he carries on about his day as usual. A skilled warrior like him must exercise patience, after all.

Many hours later, as the sun dips low into the horizon, Revali finishes setting everything up for the next morning, and he summons a quick burst of his Gale to fly towards a ledge in the rock formation behind the Flight Range’s hut. He perches on the snowy ground, perfectly hidden from any prying eyes down below, and he waits.

Darkness has fully surrounded Revali by the time he hears heavy footsteps on snow, rapidly getting closer. He looks away from the stars, visible for once thanks to unusually clear skies, and he squints to find a hooded figure climbing the stairs leading to the lit cabin. Gentle moonlight reflects off the scabbard at the person’s back, and Revali smirks to himself, biding his time.

After a couple minutes, Link emerges from the hut to step on the narrow landing, and the warm lantern light surrounding him grants Revali a better look at the Hylian. He has forgone the dark cloak that obscured him from view, revealing his usual Champion garb, and Revali glimpses an odd contraption tucked under his arm. As the Rito narrows his eyes to peer at it, Link takes off running towards the edge of the platform holding the object — a glider of sorts? — above his head, and he jumps off without a trace of hesitation.

Revali is starkly reminded of a cheeky Hylian girl coursing the Necluda skies in a mess of Cucco feathers, and he cracks a smile once the initial shock wears off. He sweeps down towards the landing as silently as he can, always keeping an eye on the soaring figure. It is soon made abundantly clear that Link is not used to aerial archery in the least, for he fumbles the switch between paraglider and bow, and he either lands terrible shots or he misses the targets entirely from what Revali can tell.

It takes three pitiful attempts for Revali to lose his patience and make his presence known.

“Well, well!” Revali exclaims at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing against icy rock. He smirks in satisfaction when Link’s shoulders give a violent start, almost losing his grip on the glider before he turns to face Revali. “Who would’ve thought the fabled hero would be bested by a few wooden targets?”

It is hard to tell with a few lanterns and the moon as his only light sources, but Revali swears he sees a flash of frustration on Link’s face before he reins it in. The Hylian hovers in midair for an instant, then glides over to the lit platform. His landing is about as elegant as a hatchling’s first steps outside their nest, and Revali snickers at the pathetic display.

If Link is embarrassed at all, he does not show it. He stares unblinkingly at Revali, head tilted minutely to the side in a silent query.

“You must be wondering how I knew you’d be here, hm?” Revali prods, preening his feathers in feigned nonchalance. Link nods curtly. “Let’s just say even a bumbling bokoblin would be able to find your ‘hidden’ tracks.” With a flourish, Revali throws the bow fragments he found earlier at Link’s feet, relishing in the way the Hylian’s brow creases at the sight. “Did the Princess tire of your company at long last? Or does she simply keep you on a longer leash?”

Link stiffens. He seems to battle with himself for a moment before raising his hands to sign in rigid, clipped motions. Revali is pleased to discover the signs are virtually identical to the ones the Rito Elder uses, only faster.

‘She has no need of me for a few days. The King stated she must devote herself to prayer in her quarters, so she’ll be protected at all times by the Royal Guard.’

It does not escape Revali that Link signs the word “king” with more force than necessary, a dull, almost angry thud against his shoulder and hip where a mere tap would have sufficed. Revali has never held the Hylian monarch in high esteem, but he did not expect one of his most faithful subjects to share the sentiment. Then again, he supposes being entrusted the blade of evil’s bane at such a young age and bearing witness to the Princess’ tribulations on a daily basis would do that to anyone.

“So you came here on a leisurely vacation?” Revali asks, cocking an eyebrow in disbelief. He cannot fathom why Link would choose to spend his scarce free time here of all places. He has a family waiting for him in Hateno Village, and friends that miss him dearly in Zora’s Domain. 

Link hesitates again. ‘I… have mastered most forms of combat, but my lack of aerial maneuverability puts me at a disadvantage… just like you pointed out last time.’ He gives Revali what almost qualifies as a scowl (the Rito’s feathers certainly do not bristle in response), and he grabs the paraglider at his back. Revali is surprised to see the Rito symbol emblazoned on it. ‘So, Princess Zelda commissioned a Rito tailor to make this for me. And here I am.’ He gestures vaguely around him, as if that explains anything.

Heaving a deep sigh, Revali strides up to Link with a hand on his hip, fixing him with a withering glare. Link’s jaw clenches, but he does not move.

“So, you snuck up here to practice in the pitch dark, on your own, without proper clothes for the cold or even a basic understanding of aerial archery,” Revali’s voice is utterly deadpan as he steps into the Hylian’s personal space, tilting his head to the side, “and expected that to yield results?”

Link’s lips twitch. ‘I didn’t want to disrupt your training. And I have elixirs.’

The admission that Link has been avoiding him on purpose should not bother Revali, given he has been doing the exact same thing for the past month or so, yet it still leaves a foul taste in his mouth.

Silence stretches between them as they stare at one another with unrelenting intensity. It is Revali who breaks it first, an idea taking hold of his beak.

“Close your eyes.”

Link’s brows knit, and his hand immediately grasps for the hilt of his sword. Revali rolls his eyes.

“I’m not going to push you into the ravine, if that’s what you’re wondering.” Revali takes a step back, giving Link some space. The Hylian relaxes minutely, but he does not let go of his sword. “Come on, I don’t have all night.”

After a few beats of stillness where Link’s unblinking gaze burns into Revali’s, the Hylian drops his hand and closes his eyes.

“Very good,” the Rito croons in mockery. He slowly walks in circles around Link, making sure the knight can hear the distinct clacking of his talons against wood. “You see, I couldn’t help but notice you treat your glider the same way you do your bow. As if it were a mere tool at your disposal.” Revali rolls his shoulders and he quietly crouches behind Link, extending his wings to the sides. “That won’t do. It should become an extension of your own body.”

Revali summons his Gale with a quick flap, willing the winds to circle Link instead of him. Before the Hylian can turn around in alarm, Revali lets go of the current and sends Link flying in an ungainly mess of limbs, and he calls out to him with a satisfied smirk.

“If you intend to shoot a bow in midair, flying should come to you as naturally as breathing!”

Link lets out a hoarse shout, and he scrambles to open his paraglider in a flash. The glare he directs at Revali as the Rito soars in circles around him is filled with unguarded annoyance, and Revali laughs in triumph at the unprecedented display. It may not be the awe he initially envisioned, but it is all the more satisfying.

“See? You open your paraglider much faster when you let your instincts take over.” Revali surveys the ravine, and his gaze lands on the nearest target, the only one he can make out in the darkness. He turns to face Link, who is still frowning at him intently.

“When you aim your shot, the possibility of falling cannot enter your brain. Nothing exists but your bow and your target. The world stops,” Revali explains. To demonstrate, he swiftly plucks his signature bow from its sling, nocking an arrow and shooting a perfect bullseye in one fluid motion. It all happens so fast he barely loses an inch of altitude before he opens his wings once more. “Trust your body, and it won’t let you fall.”

Uncertainty is clear on Link’s face, and Revali suspects he would very much like to argue that Rito and Hylians are not comparable in the slightest, but something seems to settle in his expression the longer he holds Revali’s gaze; the longer the Rito refuses to look away.

Right as Revali’s Gale begins to falter, Link nods at him and takes off towards the other updrafts, leaving the Rito to land on his own. Revali’s eyes bore into Link’s back as the Hylian’s silhouette blends with the night, far from his field of vision. A few seconds later, Revali hears the distinct clatter of a target shattering along with a horrible snap and a startled yelp, and his brow furrows in mild concern.

When Link lands on the platform, there is no bow strapped to his back, and he clutches his left hand with a pinched look on his face the moment his feet touch the ground. Revali drags a hand down his face.

“Did you seriously just break another bow?” He asks, deadpan. Link simply shrugs, flexing his fingers and rubbing the palm of his hand with his right thumb. Revali sighs for what feels like the umpteenth time, and he turns away from Link to walk into the cabin. He scoffs in disbelief when he finds not one, but three backup bows braced against the threshold.

“Either Hylian bows are utterly worthless or you don’t know the first thing about their maintenance. That bow was made of metal, how did it even snap like that?!” Revali is at least pleased to see there is a fire already lit inside, and he rummages through a few cabinets while ranting about bow quality and upkeep. A cursory glance over his shoulder tells him Link followed him inside, and Revali throws him a fairy tonic that the Hylian scrambles to catch.

“Take that for the hand injury. If you are serious about training, we can pick up where you left off in the morning. With proper, reasonable lighting.” Revali spits, glaring at Link before walking past him towards the exit. “You can make your way back to Rito Village and spend the night at the inn, or you can stay here, it hardly matters to me. Just make sure to stock on Rito-made arrows instead of… whatever it is you’re carry—”

A firm hand on Revali’s wing stops him dead in his tracks. The expression on Link’s face when Revali turns to look at him is blank as ever, but his eyes tell a different story by the flickering flames of the hearth.

They look wary. Anxious.

‘Why are you helping me?’ Link signs.

Revali clears his throat. “Isn’t it obvious? I couldn’t bear witness to your dreadful performance. Nobody should, really, it is a glaring offense to Rito culture—”

‘That’s not what I meant,’ Link interrupts, and Revali would be offended if not for the obvious frustration radiating off the Hylian’s stiff movements. ‘You made it very clear you don’t approve of me. That it should be you leading the charge against Calamity Ganon, not me,’ Link steps into Revali’s personal space, and the Rito suddenly notices how dark the circles under his eyes are. ‘So, why?’

Why indeed? Revali does not know for certain. Even with the way his view of Link has slowly morphed over time, pushing away his initial outrage and disdain, he still is not sure what to make of the Hylian or how to feel about him. The only feeling Revali has become increasingly aware of is the inexplicable pull of something akin to a tranquil lake in the middle of the wilderness. He knows the idea is absurd: Rito are no swimmers, for their domain is the sky, so there is no allure to be found in bodies of water. Yet Revali is drawn to this lake, to Link, despite his best efforts. He has long since gone from skipping stones to dipping his talons in, carefully exploring what lurks underneath unexpectedly crystalline waters. He wades through the shallows, always careful not to venture too far, for who can say whether Revali will sink or swim?

He does not want to find out.

Revali closes his eyes, and Aryll’s distraught face stares back at him. A wave of guilt washes over him, loosening his tongue.

“I chose to accept my role, to pilot Medoh,” Revali says, looking at Link. “You didn’t get to choose; it was thrust onto you.”

All traces of frustration fade from Link’s face, leaving nothing but surprise in his wide blue eyes and parted lips. The Rito exhales shakily, his breath visible in the cold air between them, and he averts his gaze.

“Quite frankly, it is a miracle you Hylians haven’t gone extinct with your… unorthodox ways to solve conflicts,” Revali carries on, gesturing wildly with his wings. “Who decided it was a good idea for a child to try and pull the legendary sword? Who is to say the blade itself is still sentient? Or has ever been, for that matter, it’s all legends and hearsay! By all means, let’s leave the future of Hyrule to a piece of metal that’s been gathering rust in a haunted forest for the past few millennia! That sounds like a brilliant plan!”

A strange, choked sound brings Revali’s attention back to Link, and he freezes when he realizes the Hylian is doubled over in silent laughter. The persistent pull at the core of Revali’s being becomes stronger than ever, beckoning him to become one with the gentle, rippling waves. To give in to the giddy feeling bubbling in his chest.

Ever defiant, Revali digs his talons into the sand.

When Link lifts his head and utters a hoarse “thank you” with crinkling eyes and a timid smile, Revali finds that such resistance is futile. He is suddenly aware of water coming up to his neck, and his talons lose their grip on solid ground as the tide takes him far, far from shore.

“Yes, yes, don’t mention it,” Revali chokes out, heartbeat loud in his ears as he struggles to stay afloat.

Two days of intensive training later, Link returns to Princess Zelda’s side with an enhanced Falcon Bow and a quiver full of Rito arrows strapped to his back. His bowmanship still leaves plenty to be desired in Revali’s opinion, but his improvement is undeniable and he exhibits decent accuracy and maneuverability — for a Hylian, that is. On top of that, Revali drills Link in proper bow maintenance to ensure his new weapon will not go to waste.

They do not talk much outside of training during that time. A newfound, comfortable silence settles between them during quick meals at the Flight Range or when they return to Rito Village at dusk, and that helps Revali keep his head above water. Link does not use his voice again, but his demeanor becomes more relaxed, allowing for a few smiles and exasperated sighs that make Revali feel like his lungs are waterlogged.

On the day of Link’s departure, Revali does not see him off. He arrives at the Flight Range that morning to find a piece of carefully wrapped nutcake waiting for him. A rolled note bound by string flutters in the wind, tied to a Hylian arrow that, to Revali’s utter dismay, is deeply embedded into a wooden pillar.

Thanks for everything, it simply reads.

Making a mental note to rip Link a new one for daring to shoot an arrow inside the cabin, Revali sits down to eat his impromptu breakfast in a silence that is not nearly as comfortable. The cake’s heavenly taste is almost enough to make him forgive the Hylian for his transgression. Almost.

He pockets the note, and, after some consideration, he adds the arrow to his quiver.

Three days after that, the Champions reunite at the base of Mount Lanayru, and all hell breaks loose. The abomination Revali sees loom over Hyrule Castle is eons worse than his darkest nightmares, making even the mighty Divine Beasts seem small.

Princess Zelda’s power still has not awakened.

There is no time for motivational speeches or farewells. The Champions nod at one another with fierce determination and take off to their positions, swallowing down the fear threatening to consume them whole. Revali makes it back to Rito Village in record time despite the thunderous storm rapidly taking over Hebra, pushing through his weariness through sheer will and adrenaline. He drags his rain-soaked wings towards Medoh’s main terminal, and he places his hand on it, ready to join the fray.

He does not get to lay even a single feather on Ganon. The revolting blight that emerges from Medoh’s machinery, a mere afterimage of the real threat, makes sure of that.

Revali puts up a valiant fight, zooming through the air, avoiding the blight’s raging tornados, and letting loose flurry after flurry of arrows, but odds are stacked against him from the beginning. He is exhausted, his visibility is poor in the ever-growing darkness, and his bomb arrows refuse to light up under the pouring rain, so the damage he manages to inflict is negligible compared to the myriad of burns and bruises he soon accumulates.

His injuries slow him down enough for a single blinding beam to catch him square in the stomach, and oh Goddess, Revali was a fool to believe he knew pain before this. The scream that rips through his throat is shrill and inhuman, and he plummets to the ground in a writhing mess of limbs.

The sickening crunch he hears upon impact tells him he will not fly again.

Somehow, Revali manages to stand and drag himself to Medoh’s main terminal, and he swallows the last dregs of his pride to send a call for help. He knows it to be hopeless: his is the fourth distress signal in the air, joining a cacophony of frantic beeps as the Champions’ strength steadily dwindles. But nobody is coming to save them.

Nobody can.

Clutching his broken wing and trying his best to ignore the gaping hole in his abdomen, Revali ducks behind the control unit to catch his breath and check his quiver. There is only one arrow left and, despite the horror of it all, Revali coughs up a painful, rattling laugh.

It is the arrow Link left behind.

A blue orb of light coalesces a few feet away from Revali, and the emerging blight sets its sights on him once more, rabid and bloodthirsty. Revali’s fingers close around the arrow, and a strange calm washes over his panic in rhythmic waves.

I can’t let it go to waste, now can I? Biting his tongue to push through the searing pain, Revali takes aim at the bulging yellow eye in front of him, and he shoots. Miraculously, the arrow flies true, lodging itself in the creature’s face and forcing a blood-curdling screech out of its lungs.

Serves you right, bastard. The Rito manages a weak smile before his legs give out, and he crumbles to the ground in a fit of bloody coughing with his back braced against the terminal. He is out of arrows and strength, and the distant cries of Medoh’s brethren tell him he is not the only one.

Link must have fallen too, or he soon will. Revali finds himself hoping that, at the very least, his new bow served him well.

The stunned blight towers over Revali as it staggers towards him, its cannon raised and dripping with malice, and the Rito knows this is it. Medoh must know too, for the floor under Revali’s legs shakes violently and a heart-wrenching cry rends the air. Revali sighs, and he faintly strokes the floor with his feathers like he has done countless times, comforting Medoh and himself both.

“Looks like this is the end, my friend,” Revali mutters, his bloodstained wing painting Medoh crimson. The blight is almost on him, and Revali stubbornly lifts his head to look it dead in the eye. The cannon glows, taking aim at his forehead.

Revali’s final thought before it all goes black is of Link’s solemn face framed by the setting sun, right before they parted ways at Lanayru. Revali’s beak had opened then, battling the rising tide to say something, anything… but to no avail. Similarly, Link had raised his hands and let them drop, settling for a nod and the faintest smile on his lips before leading the Princess away.

Revali still lacks the right words, but he has no need of them. As his consciousness fades, he allows himself to sink into deep water at long last, and the surging currents that pull him under carry the sound of Link’s quiet laughter — only for Revali to hear.

The world returns to Revali in fragments, the soothing sound of trickling water by far the most distinct. He slowly becomes aware of a cold breeze running through his feathers, a soft surface underneath him, and a deep ache in his bones that tells him it is best not to move.

With great effort, he opens his bleary eyes to a wooden ceiling adorned with Rito decorations that flutter gently with the wind. It is not his roost, that much he knows, yet the sight fills his eyes with tears that threaten to spill when he gets a glimpse of bright, cloudless skies from the open walls surrounding him.

A sudden chirp brings his attention to his left, where a Rito with russet feathers and twin looped braids is wringing a wet cloth over a basin, her beak ajar in surprise. Revali does not recognize her.

“Master Revali, you’re awake!”

Master? Revali frowns. As masterful as his skills undoubtedly are, nobody has ever granted him such a title. He had always hoped that perhaps, once the Calamity was slain, he would—

The Calamity. Vah Medoh. A cannon pointed at his face.

Revali jolts forward in alarm and immediately regrets it. He feels as if every inch of his body had been beaten to a pulp, but the searing pain in his abdomen is the worst of all, making him seize and fall back down with a pitiful whine. Black spots dance into his vision as the other Rito hovers over him, carefully dabbing his neck and face with the damp cloth.

“Please don’t move! You’re badly injured and still recovering.” She places a firm hand on Revali’s shoulder to make sure he stays put and, as embarrassingly vulnerable as Revali feels, he still gives her a weak nod. He barely lifts his head to glance at his body, and he blinks in shock at the outrageous number of bandages he is covered in.

“Where—” Revali manages to rasp before he is seized by a coughing fit. The woman swiftly brings a cup of water to his beak and helps him drink. “Where am I? How did I… get here?”

The woman’s face becomes solemn, and she hesitates before replying.

“You’re at the infirmary in Rito Village. I’m Laissa, a healer.” She says, enunciating each word slowly and clearly. “Link brought you here two days ago, with Te— with someone else’s help. You were at death’s door. If it wasn’t for Link’s knack for carrying all sorts of ingredients with him, we wouldn’t have been able to give you the specific elixirs you needed.”

Revali’s brow furrows once more, and unease coils in his gut. As relieved as he is that Link made it out of the battlefield alive, him saving Revali makes absolutely no sense. Also, when has the knight ever carried anything that is not a weapon or that strange paraglider of his?

That paraglider…

There is an abrupt stabbing pain in his temple, and a scene forces its way into his mind, distorted as if viewed through a thick, dark liquid: it is Link, clad in Rito clothes and holding on to his glider in one of Medoh’s updrafts. His eyes are fixed on Revali, and his expression is one of abject horror. A garbled, anguished shriek is torn from Revali’s throat, and desperation claws at his heart when his body moves without his consent, ready to fire at the Hylian in front of him.

No, no, please, I don’t want —!

A hand on Revali’s shoulder brings him to his senses, and he sucks in a sharp breath as he blinks at the kind woman in front of him, his body whacked by shivers.

What was that?

Laissa smiles placatingly at him, squeezing his shoulder. Something in her expression makes the feathers at the back of Revali’s neck stand on end.

“I’m sure you have plenty of questions, and I assure you they will be answered, but, for now, you need to rest. You fought valiantly for a very long time, let us take care of you.”

Revali wants to argue that he has rested enough, that his battle against the blight can hardly be called a long one, but the disturbing vision he just had completely takes it out of him. As he allows his heavy eyelids to flutter shut once more, he uses the last of his strength to mumble one of the many questions buzzing in his mind.

“At the very least, can you tell me if the Calamity was defeated?”

For a long moment, there is nothing but silence. Revali has almost drifted back to sleep when Laissa’s answer reaches his ears.

“It soon will be. This time, for sure.”

Though delivered with great tact and care, the truth hits Revali harder than his fall ever could.

Not only was he utterly defeated by Windblight Ganon, but the monster had the audacity to take control of his body, keeping Revali trapped for one hundred years as an extension of itself. A puppet to be used and discarded should a threat arise; should the fated hero awaken from his slumber to try and save Hyrule by himself.

As much as Revali wants to deny such a tale, the painful flashbacks that continue to assault his senses, and the unfamiliar faces surrounding him do nothing but confirm it. The village he once knew like the back of his hand has been repaired, rebuilt, and rearranged after the Calamity’s first strike, and the villagers he grew up with have long since departed from this world, leaving only their descendants behind.

Though Revali has never been one for close attachments, this revelation leaves him cold. Numb.

According to Laissa and a gruff warrior called Teba — who apparently helped Link board Medoh and carry Revali’s body to the infirmary — the other Champions suffered the same fate as Revali. While Mipha has already been freed, the other two warriors are still trapped in their Divine Beasts, and Link is journeying through Hyrule to both rescue them and strengthen himself in preparation for the final battle against the Calamity.

Princess Zelda is already battling — has been, for the entire past century. It appears her prayers were answered at long last when all hope was lost.

When Link fell in battle trying to protect her.

This is the part of the story Teba struggles with most when relaying it to Revali. Everyone in the village had believed Link to be a descendant of the hero when he showed up with a Sheikah slate attached to his hip. But then, after the Hylian Champion appeased Medoh and returned to the village with a bleeding, unconscious Revali in tow, all their initial conceptions had shattered. Staring at the impossibly alive Champion lying in front of him, Teba had no choice but to believe the Hylian’s tale of a supposed Chamber of Resurrection and a century-old slumber, no matter how outrageous it sounded.

Revali cannot help but commiserate, for he can barely believe it himself.

The last blow to Revali’s gut is Link’s amnesia.

“From what we know, he only remembers bits and pieces,” Laissa states from where she is crouched beside Revali, her hands busy dressing his wounds with poignant salves and ointments. “He woke up with no memories at all and has slowly retrieved a few after some specific places triggered them.”

Revali recalls the feeling of a featherless hand on his wing, of troubled blue eyes flickering with firelight, and he lets out a humorless scoff. “I wouldn’t imagine he remembers me, then.”

“He does,” Teba chimes in without hesitation. “To which extent, I cannot say, but I know for a fact you’re no stranger to him, Master Revali.” The warrior runs a hand through the long feathers at the back of his head, and his eyes stare past Revali, glazed over in thought. “The entire village heard him cry for help when he brought you back.”

A single drop of morning dew falls from the ceiling to get lost in Revali’s feathers, and everything stops.

Revali had forgotten about sinking; forgotten about surrendering himself to the waves with what he thought was his last breath on Earth. He was certain he would drown, but it hardly mattered when he was already staring at the barrel of a cannon, out of time and options.

He had been mistaken.

The moment Teba’s words register, the tide lifts him like a powerful burst of his own Gale, and Revali’s head breaks the surface of the water with a barely contained gasp.

He smiles for the first time in a century when he realizes he is floating effortlessly.

When Revali wakes to the glow of pale moonlight on his face and the sound of a crackling fire, he immediately knows he is not alone.

Crouched by the small hearth not far from his bed is Link, tossing some ingredients into a bubbling cooking pot, and mixing them in with a wooden ladle. The flickering firelight dances over his strange attire — climbing gear, by the looks of it — and the short sleeves of his shirt highlight a myriad of scars crisscrossing his arms from shoulder to wrist.

Revali does not recall him having those marks a century ago, and his fingers ache with the oddest desire to trace them.

“Well now, I’ve seen that face before,” Revali states with a lilt to his voice, carefully shifting his body to sit up. Link jolts, dropping his ladle into the pot, and he lifts his head to stare at Revali with wide eyes. His blond hair is longer and messier than Revali remembers it being, a couple leaves sticking out of it here and there, and a big splotch of a scar covers a good part of Link’s surprised face.

Revali still smirks at him, nearly unfazed. Having looked at his own stomach without bandages, healed wounds can hardly affect him anymore.

“I had a feeling you would show up eventually, but making me wait a week is a bit… indulgent, don’t you think?” Revali croons, tilting his head and crossing his wrapped-up wings to the best of his ability.

Link rubs the back of his neck, sheepish.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” He says, and Revali almost gapes at how casual his voice sounds. He had heard from his fellow Rito that Link no longer has qualms about speaking, but it is different hearing it firsthand. Revali’s expression must betray his surprise, because Link titters before returning his attention to his cooking.

“Mipha found it shocking, too. Hearing me speak.”

“I’m not shocked,” Revali lies.

“Oh, of course not,” Link teases. The ladle is back in his hand and he stirs what looks like an oddly colored soup. “Nothing can surprise the Great Revali, right?”

Revali’s eye twitches. “Cheeky, aren’t we?”

“I gotta be. Makes things easier when you don’t have any memories.” Link shrugs, cracking a small, unsettling smile that does not reach his eyes. Teba’s words nudge insistently at the back of Revali’s mind, and he opts to go for broke.

“But you do remember me,” Revali prods, biting back a curse when his voice wavers slightly.

Link goes perfectly still, his arm frozen mid-stir.

“Do I?” He whispers after a few seconds, tapping his utensil against the pot. “For the longest time, the only memory I had of you was our very last meeting, when Calamity Ganon awakened. It made me think we were—” Link hesitates, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth in a way that strongly reminds Revali of the knight’s long-gone sister. “Good allies. Friends, even. So, after freeing Mipha, I went straight for you, but everything I remembered on the way there contradicted that memory. You… despised me.”

Link pauses here, glancing at Revali as if waiting for him to give a rebuttal, but the Rito remains silent. Revali has never understood the point of sugarcoating truths, and he is not about to start now. As mistaken as his initial impression of Link had been, his antagonism had been genuine.

He pretends not to feel crestfallen when Link visibly deflates, looking down at his hands.

“I didn’t know what to make of you,” Link whispers, twirling the ladle between his fingers. “Until…”

“Until?” Revali quirks an eyebrow at Link.

A long silence. “Until I went to the Flight Range.”

Their eyes meet over the flames as the words leave Link’s mouth, and oh Hylia, Revali might have almost lost his life in battle with no arrows to his name, but he has never felt this disarmed. Link’s piercing gaze is aglow with that same wonder Revali has tried to picture a thousand times, but his imagination could never hold a candle to the real thing.

“I always thought it was odd,” Link continues, his bright eyes unrelenting, “that I just knew how to use a bow in midair without falling. That isn’t something you learn in the barracks.”

The merciless tide tosses Revali like a ragdoll, but he does not sink.

“Well,” Revali croaks, looking away and clearing his throat, “I couldn’t simply let Hyrule’s oh-so-great hero fumble in the air like a newborn fledgling while displaying the Rito symbol for everyone to see. That would’ve sullied our craftsmen’s well-earned reputation beyond repair!” He glances back at Link with his chest puffed out and a cocky quirk of his beak. “And wouldn’t you know? My valuable lessons allowed you to come to my aid when I, most regrettably, needed it. So that makes us even.”

Link blinks at him owlishly for what feels like an eternity before he snorts and doubles over laughing. It is a soft and soothing sound, yet contagious all the same, and Revali does not find it in him to resist its pull this time around. He chuckles along, and something in the air settles as they stare at one another with mirthful eyes. It is the calm after a torrential downpour, carrying a sense of finality with it.

A new beginning.

Once their shared laughter peters out, Link gives the pot one final stir, and he scoops a generous serving of its contents into a wooden bowl before presenting it to Revali.

“Here. To help restore your strength, and… I heard somewhere this soup helps bring people closer together,” Link offers with a hesitant smile that makes Revali’s chest burn.

“What a ridiculous notion,” Revali scoffs, eyeing the bowl suspiciously. The fragrant broth is tinted an odd pink, and he can see chunks of what look like hearty radishes — often fed to those sick or injured — floating in it. Though vaguely ominous in appearance, the dish does smell delicious, and Revali accepts it with a curt nod to the Hylian. Link’s smile widens.

“I’m still not sure where we stood in the past, and I don’t know how much I’ll end up remembering,” Link carries on, pouring himself a serving. “But I’d like to get to know you, and... I want to know what you remember about me, too.”

As Revali gently swirls the contents of his bowl to let them cool, he surprises himself by realizing he would very much like the same thing. He purposefully kept his distance from Link for far too long and, by the time they were inching towards a mutual understanding, the Calamity tore them apart. That threat still awaits them in Hyrule Castle, and Revali does not know if they will make it out alive this time around, but if there is one thing his pride will never stand for, it is making the same mistake twice.

“I could be convinced,” he tells Link, meeting his expectant gaze dead on, and mirroring the little smile that ensues. Revali has never been one to keep his thoughts and achievements to himself, so he sees no harm in sharing them with Link. And, if the Hylian wants to know what Revali has learned about him, well... 

He can think of a couple things to share. 

As they eat their meal and talk, comfortably adrift in the peaceful currents surrounding them both, Revali discovers he has no need to explore the deep waters underneath him; no desire at all to get his bearings or conquer this new element just yet. For as long as his wings cannot lift him into the air, he is more than content to simply float and exist somewhere around Link’s orbit. 

Revali has already waited a hundred years for his freedom, so he is in no hurry to learn how to swim.