Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Revali: the great, the revered, and the commendable pilot of Divine Beast Vah Medoh understands the necessity of independence.

It is quite an easy lesson to put to use. He, of course, had no trouble catching his fair share of salmon as a fledgling while the other kids were still too scared to dive. Revali would spend those nights roasting double the portion of what he could realistically eat and would preen in satisfaction as the fish sizzled. As a child he would fly to the Flight Range any time he liked for however long as he liked, while his other age mates were given curfews by their parents.

Imagine it! The Great Revali with a curfew!

Quite an abysmal life that would be, Revali is sure. So he trains every day till perfection and his vow of independence never wavers, no matter his hardships (easily overcome) or his achievements (commonly acquired).

The winter two years ago only fortified this fate. It was harsh; enough so that even the Rito were affected by its chill. Everyone had hung thick wool over the windows and burned fires in their homes, all in effort to keep the nests warm and protect the sick. Food was scarce as well, either trapped feet under ice or dead in the arctic freeze.

Many of the warriors that the town relied on were stuck in nests taking care of young fledglings. Not many were willing nor capable of finding food for the village. Something needed to be done to make sure the old and sick would make it to see the upcoming spring, or else the Rito would suffer many losses. And as heroes are always to do, Revali was there to save the day.

It was a clear night when Revali removed the wool from his window and shot off into the night. His Gale was premature at the time, but still strong and reliable. He donned nothing but a heavy cowl around his neck and several bags to carry the food. The sky was cloudless, yet the air felt like pins against his feathers and his talons were shivering with chill. Despite this, he persisted through the trial.

He was gone for many hours as he scavenged the lands of Tabantha where the frost was less devastating. When he returned to the village at dawn it was with several bags of mushrooms, fish, and herbs. The food weighed him down greatly. His wings shook with the exhaustion of flying non-stop and the night air had sunken into his bones.

He had persisted, obviously, but the forces acting against him only further impresses his accomplishment.

Despite morning only just beginning on the horizon, Rito Village was awake. Days for the Rito began early; both to prepare for another day of snow and to fret over the depleted food stores. Today the villagers would be relieved of such worries: the early bird gets the worm, after all.

Revali arrived at the top deck gracefully, barely restraining from striking a pose. He set the bags onto the deck and they immediately spilled over, overflowing with foods that most Rito only ever see when trading with travelers from far-off lands. His stunning arrival had not gone unnoticed and he was met at the platform with several villagers, all in varying combinations of cowls, ear muffs, and talon covers.

A woman had stared at the fruits of his labor with wide eyes, taking a large hylian shroom in her wing as if to prove that it was really there. “I don’t believe this,” she said. “You got all of this in one night?”

Revali’s chin lifted at the praise, his feathers fluffing in pride. He attempted to get ahold of himself, saying, “You better believe it! Anything less bountiful would bear less than what the village so clearly needs. You lot are obviously incapable of taking care of yourselves. You should be thankful I decided to swoop in.”

Several others had gone to survey the food, spreading it out directly onto the landing deck and divvying it out so everyone had got their fair share. In a few short minutes, the village had gone from slow and sick to full of energy. Villagers traveled up and down the walkways with tact, doing rounds of delivering food to the ones who were unable to leave their homes.

Revali, pleased and ever more grateful to what he had been able to provide with his independence, had stood back with a puffed out chest.

The other villagers were held back. Parents were depended on by their children, and could therefore not leave in case monsters or the winter’s chill got to them. And Rito warriors were aiding the Elder, who had been one of the more affected that winter. The village would have made do without a doubt, and Revali is in no way stating his people are weak, but dependency is costly.

Revali crossed his wings over his chest and shivered. The morning brought with it cold air from the Hebra mountains and he was ready to curl up in his hammock and sleep till noon. He had begun to make his way off the landing deck when a man only several years older than him had tugged on the end of Revali’s cowl.

He turned to find a Rito he recognized as Quin. He carried a portion of food that consisted of several ‘shrooms, two hearty salmon, and a pouch full of acorns.

“Thank you for all of this, Revali. My family will be grateful for the meal you have provided us. Please, come with me and join us for breakfast? I’m sure my kids would love the company.”

The offer was appealing. Revali knew that all there was waiting for him at his nest was a cold room, left to the icy air all night after he’d removed the woolen curtain. And (Revali is granting some…understanding here) seeing as he spends so much time honing his skills in archery, he cannot extend many hours to trivial activities like learning how to cook. He admitted that after a long night, a nice hot meal sounded positively mouthwatering.

And Quin was thankful he had said. He appreciated all the effort Revali put in! Someone who approved of what Revali brought to the table. His feathers, despite his best efforts, had stood nearly straight on their ends with pride.

He had done well!

It was expected of course, coming from the Great Revali himself, but it is still pleasant to hear it said aloud by someone other than himself once in a while.

Quin saw the younger Rito preen and chuckled. “It would be an honor to repay your gist. I couldn’t bear to let you leave without settling the score, and I hope you accept this meal as such.”

…And just like that the high was gone.

Suddenly, Revali pressed his feathers flat to his body.

Right. Of course. Quin simply wished to repay a debt.

The Rito’s friendly face is now, strangely, mocking. Revali wanted nothing more to return to his empty, cold nest and eat burnt salmon till he passed out. He suppressed another shiver.

Bowing low in thanks, Revali had uttered something like an appreciation for the offer and an “as you know, I run on a packed schedule”, and had dismissively marched his way off the landing deck. He liked to think there was a word of protest, but it had been carried away in the wind before it could reach him.

So you can see, the thing with Revali is that he doesn’t do companionship. He is a lone wolf—as much as a bird can be a wolf, anyway. The village challenges this statement at times, when he trains with the other warriors or when he is put on babysitting duty. Recently, though, both have become less frequent with the title of Rito Champion and as hours at the Flight Range have increased at double the rate.

Even now he’s at the range, glaring at the sky as it steals the daylight slowly. Nearly dusk now, orange rays barely illuminate the arrow shaft in his wings as he hurries through making one last bundle of bomb arrows. When you practice day in and day out on your archery skills, it’s expected for countless arrows to be put to use. Revali has tried countering before, but never got a definite number. Hundreds of arrows, perhaps.

He takes thin red paper, already full of gunpowder, and wraps it around the shaft tightly. With a bit of twine he ties the two together and sets the finished bomb arrow into a quiver of a dozen others. Each are identical—years upon years of practice making the process quick and efficient.

It’s quiet. The wind was calm today, and while that was disappointing in its lack of challenge, it was helpful in that he was able to use his Gale without external interference. Every shot was a bullseye. His fingers brush against another arrow shaft, another piece of paper is slid towards him, and another arrow is finished.

Soon he’ll return to the village, when an exited fledgling would be climbing up his arm within the minute and other warriors will be debriefing him on the events of the day. He’ll wait last to use the cooking pot after all the families and couples have gone to bed, and cook (burn) himself a meal for one. 

The night hasn’t arrived yet, though. So Revali curses the setting sun and gets to work on another dozen arrows. 

—-<>-—

Just as he lands, he adjusts the scarf around his neck so the Champion’s color is flaunted against his feathers. The knowledge of it resting there against his breast has his head raised, his back straight as he struts with purpose across the top landing deck.

Two guards stand positioned where the platform meets the main path and they both nod at him as he sees them. Tonight it’s a deep purple feathered Rito named Ginny and a pale blue Rito named Phinx. They bow in greeting, and he returns the gesture.

Usually this pair engages him with casual greetings, but tonight they stand to attention. Immediately, he is on guard. Business tonight, it seems.

”The Elder has asked for your presence in her nest at your earliest convenience,” Ginny says, her head gesturing up to the higher levels of the Pillar.

Revali sighs. Ah yes, another chore for the Elder. Hopefully this time it will be more mentally stimulating than picking berries for her afternoon snack, a task he was unexpectedly given two weeks ago that had confused him from start to end.

”Figures,” Revali huffs. “Maybe she tells of something exciting this time.”

He turns to leave but Phinx tugs playfully at one end of his scarf. “If you’re lucky, she won’t even scold you.”

Revali replies with a sharp click of his beak and Phinx mocks him with the same.

Ginny scolds them with a lighthearted, “Boys!”, and Revali retreats up the stairs with his hands raised in mirthful surrender.

When he reaches the threshold of Elder’s nest, he composes a stoic expression. He fixes his scarf (he is sure Phinx had intentionally messed it up) and enters solemnly.

Elder is a tall, wiry thing with dark feathers and a long neck. She can’t fly anymore in her old age and has taken to carrying a clubbed stick to help her walk around. Jewelry with the craftsmanship of those with little wings drape over her neck and atop her head. She wears them as though they were gifted by the goddess herself. Revali thinks that in her mind, they were.

When Revali arrives, she is bent over her desk, a book in hand and candles already burning. Wind chimes whistle in the slight breeze and accent the crisp turning of a page.

At his entrance, she gestures to a stool next to her. He ignores the offer.

”I have been told you have pressing matters to discuss with me. If that’s the case I’d rather we skip the pleasantries and flap right to it.”

Elder makes a show of closing her book with a sigh, setting it down on a precarious stack of others nearby, and facing him with a shake of her narrow head. 

“My my, seems like we have no time to chat anymore, dear. You’re either messing around with that machine or testing your luck with the winds.” Her eyes stare softly at him, and she chuckles. “My own Revali, a Champion of Hyrule.”

His stance turns guarded. The metal of his shoulder guards reach his ears as he directs his gaze away from her. “Have some shame! You put too much confidence in that title.”

The woman clicks her tongue in objection. The next time she gestures to the stool he takes it with a huff and crossed arms. He continues. “You know I’m not just romping around in Vah Medoh—I’m training. I have the skill to prove it to you, if you so critically insist. In fact, there is no doubt in my mind that I have trained more than any other of those ‘Champions’ in these months since the ceremony.”

He adjusts the scarf at his throat, feeling it pull too tight. “You know…I miss our conversations as well. But I’m afraid there is little time to spare for a thing of little importance. The Calamity is approaching at an unknown rate and I hope I have your confidence in knowing that I will do all I can to make sure the village in unharmed.”

The old bird reaches out and loosens his wings that were clasped tightly together in his lap. She envelopes them in her own soft down feathers and squeezes them warmly. “There was never a doubt in my mind about that, dear. But I am beginning to see that the cost of our safety is a steep price.”

She shakes her head and moves on before he can ask what she means. “I have led you off track. I’m sure you’re eager to know the reason I have summoned you at such an hour.”

Revali nods. He’s gotten bored of the monotonous work of honing his already perfect aim. He wants something exciting: perhaps a nearby Lizaflos camp has been giving the village some trouble and he is needed to clear it out. Or perhaps they’ve received word of another Hylian gone missing in the mountains and he needs to scope out the land and return them to their people.

Before becoming a Champion, Revali would go on assignments of that nature all the time. Being a warrior in training means having to put up with the most outlandish tasks the Captain could dish out. Most of the time it was checking the perimeter of Rito village and dealing with small monsters, but on occasion he was gifted with the chance to travel—to go out beyond the bounds of Rito Village.

”I hope it’s something exciting,” Revali says. “I’ve been itching to fly some arrows into targets that put up more of a challenge.”

”You might just get your wish,” she trails off.

Elder doesn’t get stern, but her voice takes a more serious edge when she continues. “As you know, Sheikah scientists are performing an excavation sight to the east, in the Kopeeki Drifts.”

Revali snorts. Oh, he knows alright. Some nights, a strange blue glow emits from their camp over the mountains, making it difficult for him to get his much needed beauty rest. Now that she mentions it, though… For about a week now, that tell-tale blue glow has stopped.

They’ve been causing a ruckus up their for months now to seemingly no progress. He flies over their camp sometimes, if he’s particularly bored, and likes to take lazy shots at any Sheikah ninjas that get a bit too close to the village for his tastes. 

“They found something a few nights ago. I don’t have many details myself. The King gave explicit orders for your sole involvement, so expect it to be more than a simple welfare visit. You are to depart tomorrow.”

Revali checked out midway through her speech.

He shook his head in amazement, lifting his head to grin at Elder. “King Rhoam asked for me? He sent specifically for Revali, the great Rito archer and Champion of Vah Medoh?”

He realized he was flapping his wings, sending gusts that disturbed the wind chimes, but he didn’t care. Oh finally. Finally! Someone realized his value! They realized his artfulness with a bow and ease with the wind. And if it’s the King of all people, then it must mean Revali has truly proved himself past his peers.

Revali starts pacing, overcome with pride. “I mean, of course he has! Who wouldn’t turn to me in times of need? Hylia, I just realized!” He turns to Elder. “That foolish knight was in his castle, but the King sent for me, all the way in Hebra, to take on this task. Surely that must mean the boy is not strong enough for what my mission calls for!”

He’s still pacing, swept up in his own gratification. Oh, but what could the mission be? Surely there is nothing of interest up in the peaks of Hebra: at least, nothing that would interest the Sheikah scientists. Revali has been flying circles in those mountains as soon as his secondaries grew in and he hasn’t seen anything except for bubbling springs and Hylian shield surfers.

But! There must have been something: the King would not call upon an asset such as himself without great need for it. Perhaps they uncovered a frightful beast that needs slaying. Or need him and him alone to go on a harrowing journey for a long lost technology. Or even better! Perhaps the darkness sealing sword left that silly boy and has instead called for him!

”Oh Revali, quit with the vanity and sit down,” Elder scolded, apparently down with his conceitedness. Then, to soften her words, she pulls a sealed letter out from under a stack of books and passes it to him. 

He sits dutifully and takes the letter in his wings. The royal triforce shines in the candlelight, fashioned in wax, and every feather of his plumage shivers with anticipation. However, he remembers his display and only due to embarrassment does he not rip the letter open.

More collected, Revali says, “Apologies, Elder. It was immature for me to act in that manner. I just…I can’t believe King Rhoam asked for me.”

His voice ends in a whisper, more awed than prideful now. His beak dips to his chest, looking at the letter in his hands. It felt like a miracle, settled there in his grasp. It felt like something he should hold on to and never let go.

A weight settles on his check and he looks up to see Elder’s gaze on him. Whenever she looks at him like that it feels like soaking in the sun’s rays. It makes him feel younger than he is—like he’s a fledgling surrounded by a mother’s embrace. Sometimes that look is too much for him and he has to avoid her eyes to rid himself of the feeling. But now, it sinks deep in his chest and warms the empty nest where his heart is. 

“Dear, do not apologize. You received a great honor, one I know you will not undertake lightly. This is sure to be a dificicult task, whatever it is, but you will overcome it. You will be triumphant, for you have trained for this for so long and you have earned it.”

Revali ducks his head again, this time abashed, and returns his gaze to the triforce. A few moments pass, and Elder gives him one last pat on the cheek before withdrawing her hand.

”I see you are eager to open your letter, so I will not hold you up any longer. Make sure you don’t stay up too late, Revali. You have an early morning tomorrow.”

Well, that’s a dismissal if he’s ever heard one. Before he leaves her home, he bows low to Elder. Perhaps he was sloppy in his haste, however, because as he leaves he hears her chuckling behind him.

Her fondness will be the death of him, he’s sure.

Gently taking the letter in a talon, Revali spreads his wings and steps off the top deck. He glides one full circle around the Pillar before splitting off towards his nest, settled on the land surrounding Totori Lake. It’s late evening now, and most nests are lights-out. He flicks a wave to patrolling warriors and catches sight of Hylians playing cards at the nearby stable before he arrives at his nest. 

His talons settle delicately on wood as he lands and the sound is comforting. Excitedly, he bustles about his room as he searches for a candle to light.

The emblem is just as gold as it was in Elder’s nest. He takes a moment to brush a finger over it. The feeling of accomplishment is rich in his chest as he delicately slides a letter opener under the seal. 

Swirling black script is what he first sees. The hand is beautiful, and knowing it was written for him personally sends his feathers fluffing. He begins reading.

To Revali of the Rito, Champion of Divine Beast Vah Medoh,

     I, King Rhoam of Hyrule and territories of The Great Plateu, Akkala, Lanayru, and The Southern Coast, send for your presence at the Kopeeki Drifts excavation camp in Hebra. However, a thanks is first in order—discord in the kingdom in relation to the Great Calamaty’s return has sent many floundering: yet, you have taken courage and risen to your station, as a warrior for both the Rito and Hylians. For your efforts so far, I am eternally thankful.

Revali smiles. To be expected, of course.

    Your previous actions—taken with fortitude and without hesitance—are what put my confidence in asking for your skills for this upcoming mission. As you may know, Sheikah scientists have found suspicious activity in the Hebra mountains. Now months into their study, they have now narrowed their locations down to a single site. As of the writing of this letter, a major discovery was made yesterday: the excavation team unearthed the source of the activity and have found it to be unusual technology and ruins.

     If you find the duty worthy, I would like to bestow upon you the mission of aiding these scientists in however they ask. This discovery, once revealed to the public, is sure to bring you esteem and glory among your people: please do not consider this opportunity lightly. As soon as you accept, please leave immediately for the Kopeeki Drifts Sheikah camp. My daughter, Princess Zelda of Hyrule and all pertaining territories, will meet you there.

Revali blinks. He is slow in reading the next few lines.

    Champion Daruk and Chief of the Gordon’s, Champion Urbosa and Chief of the Gerudo, Champion Mipha and Princess of the Zora, and Champion Link the Royal Knight will … accompany you on this mission.

…allowance of up to a week for the furthest stationed Champions…

  Your continuing patience is noticed and appreciated by…

         …together, it is my hope that you five Champions will grow your bond and thrive as one—

Enough!

With barely restrained force, Revali sets the letter down and stands. A breath forces its way out of his nose and he strides to the window, glaring at nothing. He restrains his anger to the tight clenching of his fists despite his fury swelling with the destruction of a dozen bomb arrows. 

He fumes and fumes. He paces the length of his nest once, and when he still wants to strangle something he paces again. There aren’t any words that quite frame the full expanse of what he’s feeling. There’s anger, front and foremost, but also the stink of shame and inadequacy.

He feels a bit like a fool.

It takes a while of staring out at the lake for the anger to drain from his feathers. The moon is high when he turns from the window. The Hylians at the stable had long left their little card game to turn in for the night.

Revali first removes his armor, then his anklets. He sets his bow down in its stand and stares at it for a few minutes, just thinking silently. Finally he takes his braids out, and only when he is relaxed and settled does he return to the letter.

He takes it in his wing, and it feels heavier than it did before. The triforce is a crude brass instead of gold and the once beautiful writing now seems strained and mocking.

    It would be a pleasure to have the Rito Champion to help with this breakthrough—a mission that is sure to bring great pride to your people. 

     I await to hear of your decision with baited breath.

The King’s personal insignia is signed at the bottom, along with another stamp of the triforce in gold paint. He folds up the letter and blows out the candle.

Laying in his hammock, it takes many hours for him to catch the elusive tail of sleep. When he finally gives into his exhaustion, the last thing he remembers is staring at his Great Eagle bow, displayed oh-so importantly in its perch

Chapter Text

Revali wakes with the sun as he does every morning.

He checks in for his shift at the front of the village. To his surprise, he is informed that he has been excused from his duties until he returns from his mission.

He had flown off feeling offended. Instead of heading back to his nest, he went to the Flight Range: he thought he should get a bit of extra training in before he had to leave. Then, in that slow time between dawn and noon, Revali departed. Elder saw him off, her wings relaxed on her cane and her eyes mirthful.

He said nothing when he gave her back the letter. He took off immediately, unable to bear her reaction.

It was a clear day today: perfect flying conditions. By all means he could have been at his destination within two hours. Yet Revali found himself taking his time. He played with his Gale, seeing how many flips he could get in a single gust. Other times he would fly high before diving at a steep angle. He would then pull up at the last second to fly parallel to the ground. He did this fall again and again, just to see the spray of snow when he finally decided to snap open his wings.

The trip took perfunctory effort and despite his dawdling he arrived in commendable time: just before noon. With a bird’s eye view, he surveyed the camp.

Temporary wooden platforms had been built in a semi-circle shape, supporting sturdy tents. Lamp posts had been drilled into the frigid earth. With his keen eyes he spots at least a dozen frog statues dotted around, all adorned with the Sheikah eye. At the epicenter of the camp he spots large, metal doors. The technology that they’re made of are familiar—it’s the same ancient tech that Vah Medoh is made of.

He raises a brow.

The camp is actually quite busy. He had expected a small team of 10 but there are a good 20 or so scientists wandering around camp. They look like spring bunnies, all fluffed up in layers of coats. He smirks at their funny Hylian waddle, but he soon swoops down to land.

Revali did a tight circle over the center of the camp and lands with a dramatic downward flap of his wings. Ice flew up in a mist around him, landing lightly on two nearby scientists passing by in conversation. They gave him a wide-eyed glance that he sniffed at.

Observing the camp, the first thing he noticed was that there wasn’t a Rito in sight This is clear not only in the lack of feathered appendages, but also in the rather drab color scheme. The Sheikah excavation camp is a depressing canvas of grey, red, and white—a drastic difference to the rainbow of Rito villages. Revali bends at the waist to look a nearby Sheikah frog in the eye and raises an unimpressed brow, shuffling his scarf a bit.  

Secondly, he noticed a fast-paced Sheikah man approaching from what looked like the center-most tent. He wore so many layers he was as wide as Revali’s wingspan and seemed as dim as they come: he was bumping into poles, slipping on snow, and nearly toppling over in his haste. Apart from his bumbling, the strangest thing about him was the pair of dark, circular glasses on his face. In an attempt to be polite, Revali didn’t stare. 

Thirdly, Revali shifted his focus to search for a sign of beak or tail of any of the other Champions. Yes, Revali left exactly as the letter said and is closer to the excavation site than the others, but it wouldn’t be out of the realm of possibility for Urbosa or Daruk to get here before him.

As discreetly as he can, he peeks around poles and tent tarps. He tips his head side to side to see past any Sheikah in his way. If he’s lucky, he’ll see them before they see him. 

In his quest, he assumes that the layered man will rush past him and into a tent further down the path. He steps aside. However, it seems that in stepping to the right, he has indirectly stepped into the man’s way. The Sheikah digs his heels into the ground and stands, swaying, in front of him. 

“Pardon me,” Revali murmurs, stepping further to the right. Coincidently, the man follows. He’s heaving deep, smoking breaths, looking red faced and crazed as he stands no less than 12 inches from Revali.  

The uncomfortable closeness breaks Revali from his concentration.

Revali blinks.

He coughs into his wing and takes a step back. The man runs a hand across his large, bulbous hairdo and smoothes the wrinkles out of his outermost layer.  

“Oh,” he heaves, holding up a finger as he catches his breath. “Excuse me, woo . You’re Champion Revali, aren’t you?”

The man seems to lose as evidence of exhaustion in an instant. He snaps into a pose. "Great! Welcome to the Kopeeki Drifts excavation site! I’m Robbie, the co-head researcher here. My colleague, Purah, isn’t here now but she extends good greetings.” 

Revali doubts that they placed this man as one of the main faces of the operation, but that’s not important right now. 

“ You are my welcome party?” Revali considers flying back to Rito village that then and there. “Excuse me, but you realize I am the Rito Champion , correct? As in the pilot of Divine Beast Voh Medoh? The very technology that will take part in defeating the return of the Calamity?” 

Revali sniffs, a cloud of smoke erupting in the space between them. He not so subtly gestures to his Champion’s scarf. “Do I not deserve a bit more respect, or is this the same welcome the Princess is to expect when she gets here as well?” 

“Oh,” Robbie mutters, his face an expression of surprise. “We’re all still very busy with research and studying the Ancient Doors right now. But by the time the rest of the Champions arrive we will have had time to plan the festivities and prepare a welcome celebration.” He chuckles softly and when he turns and directs Revali back towards the main tent, the Rito can’t help but follow, fuming.

Robbie waves his hand reassuringly. “And don’t worry, we wouldn’t dream of bringing Princess Zelda onto one of our excavation sites without a grand, hearty welcome! But today we couldn’t afford to waste any time. It’s just how it worked out—you know how it is.” 

They reach stairs—carved into the ice with wood planks to prevent slipping—and at the top they enter a stuffy, smoky tent. There are three large tables filling the space, each one’s surface completely covered in documents, maps, books, and just about every paper product imaginable. From the ceiling’s center hangs a lamp, spreading warm light across the tarp walls. A mat is making a sad attempt at stopping wet shoes from tracking in water. It squishes uncomfortably under Revali’s talons when he enters.  

There’s a silent anger in the set of his shoulders, along with a fair bit of shame.

Of course. Why should Revali expect an ounce of recognition for all the work and hours of training he’s done—it’s the expectation. The bare minimum. Do the other champions need constant reminders of their title or how it was earned? Do they need coddling on top of the already lofty honor of being named a Champion? When they train for hours upon hours, do they expect to be thanked by the same people who will, when the time comes, depend on that same training to save their lives? It is not something to be “thankful” for—it is something to expect, and anything less would be disrespect of the highest order towards their people. The whole of Hyrule itself, even. 

Still...  

Revali watches as Robbie continues to spin around the room, pointing out this or that and gesturing animatedly.

He feels a bit petulant for thinking so, but shouldn’t being a defender of the Kingdom bring some respect? Some feeling of awe or gratefulness? He just got here, and he already has the feeling that this is going to be less like the mission he was hoping for and more like an overrated work-abroad experience.  

Revali sighs, and when Robbie gestures towards the center table he follows. 

The Sheikah uses his palm to hold down the curling edge of a map, talking all the while. “...and this what our cartographers drew up for the Kopeeki Drifts hollow. The circle right here is where the Ancient Doors are. What a find they were! A pair of scientists stumbled upon them on accident. One thing led to another, and now they're nearly completely excavated! Purah predicts that behind the doors are hieroglyphs or technology hidden away for the Calamity’s return. Whatever it is, it’s vital that we uncover it: we need anything that will give us a better chance.” 

“You don’t feel as though the Guardians and Divine Beasts are enough?”

Revali thought they were more than ready. Really, what more could they do? They already had the best warriors on the continent, and a fool with a sword. They even had Hylia’s power of sealing the darkness! All of this, and this man still claims to lack faith? 

“We have strong offensive forces, but we need all the power we can get. I mean, who knows what could be behind those doors! Oh, it’s all so exciting.” He lifts his hand and the map rolls closed with a snap! Once more in a flurry of motion, he sweeps out of the tent with a gesture to follow.  

 Looking out from the threshold, Revali watches as Robbie bumps into no less than three passersby, slips on a bit of ice, and carries on with his hair bopping comically and his goggles askew. He comes to the sudden conclusion that is is a very...aloof man. He clearly has some screws loose and therefore necessitates gentle handling. His title of ‘co-head researcher’ must just be a title bestowed upon him in pity.  

He will not treat him differently, Revali vows to himself after this revelation. The poor man doesn’t deserve any animosity.

As Revali begins to follow, he watches as Robbie bumps his head on a pole, looks at it in surprise, and bursts into laughter.

His head must be full of feathers.  

--/\-- 

Robbie walked him down to the large doors he had spied earlier when flying. They were tall with deep, strange runes carved onto them. He went into a long, winding rant about their research so far and his analysis of their findings. Revali listened to it all with polite nods and carefully placed questions. There were about 8 scientists working on the excavation when they were there. None of them spared the pair a glance with how focused they were on their work. 

After a while they were interrupted by a woman. She approached them briskly and when she spoke it was with a hint of urgency.

To the South, in the mountain right above their camp, was a Lizaflos troop of about seven monsters. The dangers of this were obvious: if they caused a large enough disturbance, they could send down an avalanche of snow to bury them in their tents.  

Revali had shot off with only a question of directions. He took the troop out and returned within an hour's time. After a rather boring day, it had been just the amount of excitement he needed to perk back up.

Perhaps he bragged a bit too much of the ease of his success, because when he was regaling his encounter during lunch another scientist spoke up and asked him to get rid of the Bokoblin camps peppered by Hebra falls. Then someone else asks him to investigate the South Tabantha Snowfield because she thought she heard a sleeping Hinox when she was passing by. Another claims that there are 20 Lizaflos hiding out in Pikida Stonegrove and that they steal barrels of food each night. 

Before he knows it, he has a long list of tasks to keep him occupied for the next few days. They are all mundane, often undemanding tasks that less challenge him than irk him. Where he at first looked forward to this trip as an opportunity to prove himself, now it’s become a bore. Each day he wakes up in his tent and immediately goes down the list of what he has to do.  

The Rito don’t bother with the monster camps in this area, not even the warriors who live in Tabantha Village, so there are a lot more to take care of than he is used to. But the quantity does not equal difficulty: he goes through camp after camp and his only grievance is the number of arrows he must go through. Eventually, he challenges himself to limit his arrow use so even that loses its significance.  

Right now, Revali is sweeping the road east of Tabantha stable. Apparently, one of the wagons lost a chest of important equipment between the stable and the camp site. And since they so conveniently had the Rito Champion on hand, the Master of the wind, and a fighter skilled in aerial combat, they decided his skills would best be used on recovering lost equipment.

In the middle of a blizzard, too! 

“I mean, really!” The snow buffets him, and he has to swerve to remain steady in the following blast of wind. “Of all the things I could be doing...! Do they really think I want to be running these foolish errands?” 

What if his village had been attacked while he was here, wasting time? What if these hours he could have spent training were that extra push he would need to defeat the Calamity, now lost? 

Revali grunts, shaking the thoughts away. He won’t let them distract him now: he’ll wait to write them down in his diary tonight. 

The Champions, princess, and blond with a shiny stick are only a few days away. Activity at camp has been picking up as the scientists finish the excavation, set up additional tents, and begin preparations for the princess’s arrival. He had watched, amazed, as the dull colors of camp were brightened with streamers and banners. The disorder he first experienced when entering the camp has been cleared away. The barrels and crates have been craftily hidden behind tents and the walkways were cleared of frost.  

When the Champions arrive, he wants something to show for the days he’s spent here. 

…Even if it’s a boring recovery mission. So Revali stops talking and continues his search. 

—-/\-— 

Revali breathes in slowly. He exhales and a soft white mist clouds his vision. 

He breathes in again and he holds it. His eyes are alight, dancing from side to side. In his hand is his bow with three arrows ready and notched. 

The targets had been set up in the early hours of morning. There are 56 yellow ribbons hidden around the camp. He had tied them on top of poles, in between bulking pieces of equipment, on the distant edge of the mountain, and on the swishing tail of a horse. It’s no Flight Range, but Revali had finally finished his long (long long long) list of chores and he wanted to have some fun.  

There’s a stillness to the air today. Though the sun isn’t visible yet, the sky is a pleasant orange hue. He feels excited: he had felt an unfamiliar childlike eagerness all morning. It’s always fun for him to test the extent of his skill, and today he really decided to push it.

There’s nothing like the adrenaline rush of training, or the pride of seeing how far he had progressed. But even better are the moments where it’s just him, his bow, and his arrow hitting true. Where he is weightless: where the pressure of being a Champion can’t reach him. 

But he’s not worried about all of that right now. All he’s worried about is having a little fun. 

Revali counts down from five in his head, and when he hits one he’s already smiling.  

He pulls back the drawstring twice in quick succession, releasing six arrows flying towards the targets on the cliffs. Without pausing to check if his marksmanship ran true, he ran across several nearby crates. One target is shot on his left, then three on his right.  

On the third crate, he jumps. At the apex, he turns and shoots a target high on a pole above him. He lands in a roll and doesn’t stop. There are two targets pinned to the tarp of the tent to his left, and he shoots then both with one release of the drawstring. 

He has moved to the higher-elevated part of the camp now. This means the tents are less densely packed. Knowing this, he had also spread the targets out more. Revali takes in a quick breath, then kicks off in a sprint.  

There are targets behind barrels, dangling beneath arches, and tied on lines strung-up between poles. He runs, twisting up and down, shooting every glimpse of yellow. He realizes he’s laughing after shot 38. He can’t remember the last time he had so much fun. In fact, he’s so caught up in his game he doesn’t realize he gained an audience.  

Moving further to the outskirts of camp, things get a bit more tricky. He skids around a corner and arrives at the camp’s humble little stable. Revali quickly shoots at the target tied to a horse’s tail, and before the animal can process what had happened, he launches into the air. Mid-flight he shoots straight down into a bucket where, at the bottom, is a wadded-up ribbon. 

When he lands, he’s smiling once again in anticipation for the finale. He’s officially at the camp’s highest elevation with the rest of the tent spread out below, and the Ancient Doors even lower than that. There are 12 targets left, all scattered randomly throughout the camp.  

Revali suddenly has a plan to get them all at once.

Up ahead is a wagon. It’s carrying whole tree trunks, spanning 15-20 feet long. They are coincidently positioned so they are pointing up towards the sky, and Revali is ready. 

He jumps onto a trunk. As he runs up it like a ramp, the logs shift uncertainly under his feet. He reaches the top and jumps, allowing himself a single flap of his wings to get the height he needs.  

And the morning is beautiful, really. The ice is bright in the early sunlight, bathing the camp in a soft glow. The wind is refreshing through his feathers—like a cool caress. Revali laughs aloud with content. 

With his vantage point, all remaining 12 targets are visible. To his left he lets loose 3 arrows for targets on poles. To his front, he shoots towards 3 targets on Sheikah frogs. To his right, just within his range, he shoots 3 targets on the cliff.  

He lands in a burst of frost, knowing behind him, the final three targets are pinned to the main tent. He knocks three arrows, his adrenaline peaking, and turns. 

...Only to be met with an unexpected mob of people.  

There’s Daruk, and Urbosa, and Mipha, along with the princess and her knight. He thinks he recognizes the Sheikah ninja in the back to be Impa, standing next to an unfamiliar woman. However, he doesn’t get a moment to analyze them further.  

He startles, squawking. 

Revali watches, horrified, as his three arrows are released without his permission. His hands clench, as if they could grab the arrows right out of the air.  

Of course, they would arrive now to surprise him at the worst possible moment.  

Thankfully, these were not your everyday bystanders. The arrows impact with a thunk, thunk, thunk against the impenetrable shield of Daruk’s power. When the arrows fall to the ground, they are nothing more than splintered wood and flint. 

The next few moments of silence gave the prideful Rito time to feel a deep, burning embarrassment.

Oh goddess, why did they need to arrive now? There’s no way they’ll respect him now after seeing him mess around like a fledgling. He had been laughing for Hylia's sake! In fact, it’s pure dumb luck that he hadn’t woken the whole camp with his ludicrous activities.  

Idiot, he scolds himself. Feather brained idiot.  

The princess is the first to speak up. Even in layers of thick wool, she’s dressed like royalty. She’s wearing a long, navy blue poncho with gold accents and fluffy muffs over her Hylian ears.  

“Greetings, Rito Champion Revali.” He notices, suddenly, that he sprayed snow onto the front of her skirt. He doesn’t think he’s imagining her strained smile. “It was a pleasure to witness your skillful marksmanship as our first introduction to the Kopeeki Drifts excavation site." 

He's frozen for about five seconds, then he swallows his shame. 

His chest inflates in an inmitation of pride. A smirk slides into place with his next breath.  

“Of course, Princess.” He bows his head to the group as a whole in welcome. He walks towards them. “Though I must insist you come and watch a second time; you missed the first half! It takes a great deal of practice and talent, as I’m sure you know, to possess the skill you just witness—“ 

Unable to hold it in any longer, Daruk booms, ”That was amazing! You were just zoomin’ left and right—I’ve never seen anythin’ like it!” Daruk sways like he wants to reach out and shake something. Lucky for Revali, he is just out of arm’s reach of the Goron. 

Urbosa, on the other hand, is shaking her head. Her snapping red hair is sticking out of a head wrap. She’s wearing a reasonable coat over her armor, with her scimitars and shield easily accessible.  

“It was irresponsible,” she argues. “What if one of the scientists had woken up and wondered in front of one of the targets? Training should never take place where civilians could get hurt.” 

“That wouldn’t have happened,” Revali is quick to refute, needed fire to burn away any lingering chagrin. “I’ve been shooting since I could hold a bow. I know better than to misfire.” 

This is true: Revali has never misfired once in his life. Which is why it’s even more infuriating when Urbosa simply responds with raising a brow, staring pointedly at the shattered arrows laying in the snow.  

“I thought it was quite impressive!” Mipha pipes up, adorned in layers of amber jewelry and a short cape around her shoulders. “But... Urbosa’s right. Civilians could have gotten hurt, so remember to choose a safer location next time!” 

Revali lifts his chin haughtily. “Well, it’s common sense not to walk in front of a loaded bow. If anyone doesn’t know that, then I would be surprised if they didn’t forget their brain at home! Even the youngest fledgling knows that.” 

Next, the Rito brings his attention to Hylia’s little knight. He is wearing thick, sturdy clothing and snow boots. He looks almost statue-like, with his emotionless-face and frozen stance. Revali would think he wasn’t even alive if he couldn’t see the dragon breath emitting from his nose every few seconds.

Revali raises an eyebrow at him, daring him to add his two-sense to the conversation. He has to hide his disappointment when the challenge isn’t taken. 

Once again addressing the group, he says, “Moving on to more pressing matters: you really were not expected so soon. Robbie was expecting you at noon at the earliest. I suppose if they commence preparations now, the camp will have your greeting celebration ready in an hour or two. After that foolishness is done, we can get on to what we were actually summoned here for—” 

“YOU ARE ALL EARLY!”  

Robbie bursts out of a nearby tent. His hair is a nest on his head, his feet are bare, and his wearing a thin sleeping gown. Despite being wildly underdressed, he had remembered to put on his dark-tinted goggles. 

“Oh no! Princess Zelda, my apologies for being so wildly unprepared! We’ll be all set up in just a minute. No no,” he waves a hand just as Zelda opens her mouth. ”I insist!” 

He puts his fingers in his mouth and, to Revali’s surprise, makes a high-pitched whistle. Could Hylians always do that?

At once, groaning and grumbles sound out from every tent in camp. With the Kopeeki Drifts site waking up, Robbie faces the group and strikes a pose. 

“Don’t worry; Champions, Princess. Prepare for a warm welcome headed your way!”

Chapter Text

The camp’s welcome was modest, yet admittedly impressive with their limited supplies. After everyone had woken up, the scientists gathered to celebrate the group’s arrival.

It was during this time that Revali learned that the women besides Impa was her sister, Purah; the other head scientist. Purah had turned out to be a surprise. She was just as emotive and fidgety as Robbie instead of stony like Impa. Really, the only evidence that the two are sisters are their expressions. In that way, the two almost seemed like twins.

After a lofty introduction that took far too long in Revali’s opinion, they were at last served breakfast. Hylians ate food that was far too sweet for the early hour. He avoided all the pastries and sweet breads, instead favoring the more savory options. Across the table from him, Daruk was chowing down on a still-steaming plate of rock roast. Revali wondered if the rocks in Hebra had an exotic taste compared to the ones in Eldin.

When the party had settled in and the scientists had dispersed, Robby led the group to the main tent. Once again, he went through his spiel: explaining their mission, their discoveries, and their predictions. With the addition of Purah, the pair’s back and forth method of explaining quickly became impossible to understand.

The two seemed to read each other's thoughts, which left too many gaps for the audience to fill in themselves. The princess was the only one able to keep up. She seemed happy to show off her knowledge, asking questions about this and that.

Revali tuned out the debrief. He knew just about everything they were saying—in layman's terms, anyway.

During his brief career as the camp’s intern, he learned all kinds of things about the excavation. Turns out, scientists are the loneliest kinds of people out there. They would begin by telling him about an ice talus he needed to take care of, then out of nowhere would start rambling about the research they were doing. It was almost as if they took advantage of social conventions—they locked him into a polite conversation and they‘d run off at the mouth about whatever their hearts desired. His chores were boring, but he had found himself rushing off to them if it meant leaving one of those dull exchanges.

Despite being unwilling subjected to these sad attempts at normal interactions, Revali had retained a lot of useful information (he now knew how ancient technology is being used in the modern world and about several tools that are being reversed engineered). Unfortunately, he also retained a lot of unhelpful information (like the average snowfall over the past week, the effect cold weather has on the growth of horse hooves, and what poisonous berries do to the Hylian digestive tract.)

Revali shivers and firmly pushes thoughts of the ‘unhelpful information’ out of his mind. Thankfully, the debrief is just wrapping up. Revali summons some patience as he trails after the rest of the Champions. The group begins the walk down to the Ancient Doors.

As soon as Daruk exits the tent he stretches his back, which emits the most concerning crack Revali has ever heard. Hylia, it sounded like someone splitting wood.

The Goron sighs in content, his breath rolling like steam, and sets a lazy pace down the walkway. “Oh, this will be easy. Explorin’ a teeny cave like this is pushin’ pebbles for us Gorons. The six of us will be in and out in an hour, tops.”

“We need to be thorough in our investigation,” the princess says as she leads the party. ”I promised Purah and Robbie that I would take as many pictures as I think are necessary. It could take an hour, it could take more.”

She is using her ‘Princess Voice’, and her logic does seem impartial, but there is no hiding the bounce in her steps. Revali rolls his eyes. It seems they will be waiting on the time of Her Royal Highness today.

She might not care about wasting her hours down in a slimy, drab hole in the ground, but he does.

“While it is perfectly plausible that there are old Sheikah treasures or murals buried beneath those slabs of stone, we should also expect that there could be nothing.” Revali straightens his spine and waves a wing, ”Besides, there’s a bunch of forgotten landmarks in Hebra, all reasonably sought after and treasured. These doors could be completely unrelated to any ancient Sheikah technology.”

He sniffs, a bit upset at admitting what he was worried about all along: what if it really is nothing? What if here he was, thinking he would have a chance to prove himself, and it turned out he got his hopes up for nothing? They could open the Doors and find just a smooth cliff; no cave entrance, no hidden structure, nothing. He feels that having come to these realizations, it’s important that he shares them.

“It would be unwise of us to assume there would be anything of value at all,” he finishes.

When the princess next speaks, he feels that he had somehow offended her. “Of course. Thank you, Revali. I’m assuming you would rather we not bother with investigating at all, then? Since it really is rather unlikely that it will be of any interest. Should we just leave these scientists to investigate it by themselves, when there are potential dangers that they are unaware of? There could be something of unspeakable importance behind the Ancient Doors. Something that will tell us how to succeed in our fight against Calamity Ganon, maybe securing the safety of Hyrule. Are you saying you want us to ignore a prospective lead, just because it is unlikely it will grant us immediate help?”

Revali hadn’t, in fact, said a word of any of that blather.

He is about to make himself crystal clear when Urbosa interrupts him. She clicks her tongue, and Revali is offended by her audacity.

“Oh please, enough with the arguing. The two of you are acting like children.”

Forget interrupting him, he’s more offended by that! Oh my, what a claim! Revali, behaving like a fledgling?

Inconceivable.

Improbable.

Why, the moon would turn crimson before a statement like that would ever ring true!

It is only by divine intervention that it is at that moment the group arrives at the bottom of the camp. The rebuke he has sitting at his tongue is bitter, but instead of spitting it out he chokes it down. He crosses his arms and turns his back to them.

Robbie and Purah are leading the camp as finishing touches and last-minute tweaks are made. The princess’s posture is regal as she makes her way to the base of the cliff to meet Purah.

“Okay, you Highness. We’re just getting our scopes, energy trackers, and seismometers ready then you’re all good to go!” The princess is given the Sheikah Slate. Her job is to capture any images that may be of interest to the scientists. The Champions’ job is to keep her safe and clear out anything dangerous.

People waddle about to and fro. Some have safety goggles and others are wearing thick rubber gloves. It's an ordered chaos. The Champions stand, center most to it all.

Revali watches it all curiously. He is too young to have spent much time around Hylians besides the travelers that come to the village. Despite himself, he finds himself drawn to their strange mannerisms and expressions.

He leans over shoulders and looms into discussions. He watches as they interact, and bicker, and mumble in that rapid, furious way that scientists do.

He was entertained for a few minutes, but soon enough, they’re ready.

Everyone stands back.

Robbie throws his arms over his head, tucked behind a crate as his partner stands above him. Purah’s eyes are crazed as she stares at the Doors, doing a count down and flipping a lever. Revali had been expecting some sort of demolition. But instead, a blue glow ignites around the perimeter of the Doors. A sort of rumbling starts, shaking snow loose from unsuspecting lamp pole and tents. When the doors actually begin to open, he feels disbelief for a moment.

Huh, it’s actually working.

A strange, enigmatic feeling rolled over him as he looks into the depths of the cave. He shuffled a bit, trying to decipher what it was. It felt a bit like danger, a bit like change. It was unfamiliar, but seemed to welcome him with the casual air of an old friend.

He didn’t get time to analyze it further: the doors creaked a long tone then stood wide open.

The Champions entered the cave, and darkness ate them up in moments.

—-/\-—

One time, when Revali was a few years younger and a flock load more naive, he went hunting. He had just learned how to shoot straight and wanted to prove that he could hunt for the village now. Some of the older kids had said his aim was so bad he would shoot himself in the foot. And, Revali being the prideful creature he is, had a reputation to keep even at seven years old.

So he had went to a nearby wood with a fresh quiver of arrows, swearing that he wouldn’t return to the village until he had caught something.

Safe to say, night had come, and he still hadn’t hit a single thing. His arrows had gone wide on rabbits, squirrels, and a deer or two. Frustrated but unable to admit defeat, he stubbornly continued his hunt as the moon began to rise. Rito have notoriously bad night vision, something that he didn’t take into account until he looked up and realized he didn’t know where he was.

He froze. Around him, he could only hear the chirping of insects and the scattered croak of a frog. The village lights were nowhere to be seen and he couldn’t hear any voices.

Revali began to worry. Chicks had to be back in the village by nightfall and he didn’t want to get in trouble with Elder again. He began to traverse slowly, calling out for help. After 10 minutes he stopped and listened. Perhaps someone had heard him and would call back.

But as he listened, he noticed how quiet the woods were. It was completely silent. There were no bugs, no frogs, and it seemed even the leaves had stopped whispering. He felt his feathers rise. He came to a stop, tilting his head as he strained his ears.

A shadow suddenly jumped out behind him and a growl, so deep he felt it vibrating in his chest, reverbated through the forest. Immediately he spread his wings to fly, but he felt a burning pain at his left shoulder, trailing down his arm.

He cried out. He lost height. When he swooped down towards the ground, a pair of jaws snapped up, just barely missing him. He flapped desperately, needed to fly higher. He pushed past the pain as around him, howls erupted.

It seemed he had gotten himself surrounded by a wolf pack.

With cruel relief, he managed to make it to the top of a tree. Almost immediately, claws began purging the bark at the base. To Revali, it sounded like a death knoll. The tree had shook violently and he hung on to the trunk with all his strength.

That night stands out clear in his memory. He had spent most of the night a sitting duck, just waiting for ivory teeth to close around his head. He remembers the warm wetness of his own blood as it drenched his feathers and matted them to his body. When dawn came, a search party had eventually found him.

The warriors arrived and found him, fatigued and bloody, sitting in that same position. What confused them, however, was the pack of skewered wolves scattered at the base of the tree.

Sometime over the night, Revali had picked up his bow and, with shaking hands, had aimed at the wolves below. He was blind and running on adrenaline, but his panic had fueled him. He hated the feeling of being hunted. He turned the fear into anger, then into power. He pushed himself to steady his hands and aim true.

When the warriors had checked the bodies of the wolves, every arrow had gone straight through the head.

He feels that same, creeping feeling of helplessness again the further they travel down this tunnel. 

It’s, quite frankly, boring. Twenty minutes of passing grey, unassuming wall to grey, unassuming wall does a lot to annoy a Rito out of his mind.

“This is quite an unresourceful use of my time. As a Champion, I had expected being summoned for....something more demanding than walking in a dark tube for an hour.”

“Surely it’s not been an hour already!” Mipha, walking in front of Revali, turns around for a moment to ask in surprise.

“Of course not,” Urbosa says. “Don’t be so gullible, Mipha. It gives him incentive to keep talking.” Mipha looked hurt for a second, but Revali was trying to make a point.

“Come on! I can’t be the only one who thinks this mission is absolutely asinine. Enough time has passed that we should have found something already.”

There are a few moments of silence.

Then, as if he’s hesitant to agree, Daruk says, ”Well, I’ll admit, I was expectin’ a few more monsters to smash...And, y’know, to find some old Sheikah tech.”

Everyone looks to the princess. Revali expects her to say something, but she keeps marching resolutely ahead, not breaking her stare with the darkness in front of her. In the torchlight, her hair is a golden glow. Next to her is her decorated knight, carrying the torch as they descend further into the cave. Revali turns to him instead, desiring to ebb his boredom.

“Well, Knight? Is this all you were promised when you pulled the sword from the stone? Did they tell you that wielding the sword that sealed the darkness meant traversing across the continent to drudge through an old cave for nonexistent treasure?” Revali taunts, “Have you realized yet that your honor is not all it’s cracked up to be, hmm?”

“Oh, please,” the princess snaps. She suddenly turns her glare on Link. Revali remembers the Champions ceremony all those months ago and he suddenly feels like he unleashed the princess’s inner distaste once again. ”He has been praised for nothing but his honor. He can handle this cave and a hundred more to earn the honor he's been given.”

“Princess Zelda, with all due respect, Link is trying his best, too. In fact, we’ve all been working hard to live up to the pressure that’s been put on us. Give him a bit of your patience and I’m sure you’ll realize this.”

Mipha is hardly able to finish her sentence. The princess rounds on her in an instant. “Thank you for your input, but I truly don’t care about anything he does, nor am I willing to go out of my way to give him an ounce of grace when none has been offered to me. If he is to live up to his expectations, he has to work for it.”

Revali can’t believe his ears. “Pardon me, your Highness. You expect me to believe you have not been given ’an ounce of grace‘? The princess of Hyrule? You’re standing at the height of privilege. You can’t hold your experiences in relation to the Knight’s. It’s an impossible comparison.”

Then, to his utmost surprise, Revali watches the following exchange unfold. What had started as a rather offhand comment quickly turned into an argument.

“Well, being one of the leading figures of a kingdom must be stressful. It’s not fair to take that out on Link, of course, but don’t be so harsh, Revali--”

Daruk is interrupted by Urbosa. “What do you know about leading, Daruk. What do you Gorons do again? Mine rocks, eat rocks, build your homes out of rocks--”

“You must remember that we have had peace in Eldin for centuries. Not ‘cause we’re ’simple creatures’, but because of our impenetrable defenses.” Daruk’s voice is already deep, but it sounds dangerous now with his suppressed anger. “Remind me, how long peace has been kept in the desert?”

“You know very well that the Yiga Clan has been--”

“Oh, be civil!” Mipha cuts off Urbosa’s reply. ”Do you not feel shame in acting this way? My word, I had thought you all would be more mature than this. How are we supposed to get along if none of you can hold your tongues for more than twenty minutes?”

Urbosa fires off a snappy retort, then Princess Zelda breaks in, then everyone is going ’round in circles again. Grievances that were previously unspoken are revealed, personalities are attacked, biting remarks are made. Revali hadn’t thought it possible to hide such deeply felt feelings: personally, he has trouble not telling everyone what he’s thinking at any given second. But he never would have guessed at some of the things his fellow Champions are expressing right now.

Despite it being impossible, the cave feels colder all of a sudden. The stone walls seem to be closing in and the torch light seems dimmer.

At some point, the group had stopped walking to maximize their arguing potential.

How in the world, Revali wonders, are we supposed to defeat Calamity Ganon like this?

It would be much simpler if the task could just be completed individually: much less likely to bump heads with someone. He craves, not for the first time, the reliable solidarity of independence.

A piercing, high-pitched noise breaks through the noise. Everyone suddenly falls silent.

Link stops whistling when he has the group’s attention. With his unoccupied hand, he makes a ’calm down’ motion. His face is as emotive as ever, but Revali thinks there might be something a bit furtive about the action.

Seeing the silence as an invitation, Revali says, “I suppose we all have some...issues with our predicament and the people we share it with. However, I do not plan on letting that interfere with my will to defeat the evil plaguing this land. We are colleagues, not friends. We do not have to like each other; we just need to get the job done.”

Mipha taps her trident on the stone a moment, thinking. ”I’m happy that we have finally found something we agree on.”

“Same here,” Daruk mutters.

“Hmm, yes. In the Kingdom’s interest,” Urbosa says.

The knight gives a solemn nod, and the princess follows.

Revali feels awkward to be the one resolving conflict for once and goes to break the following silence.

Before he gets a chance to, the ground begins shaking. Fissures form in the ground, growing larger until they‘re big enough to fit his hand.

Individually, everyone breaks into motion. Then everything happens quickly.

A flurry of motion happens to his right and suddenly a heavy weight lands on his foot. Revali squawks, throwing his wing out and slamming directly into Urbosa. She stumbles, offset by both the earthquake and the push, and bumps into Link. The knight drops the torch and the tunnel is bathed in black.

Revali’s heart pounds. Noise erupts in the tunnel. People are shouting over the roar of the shaking. Metal rings as blades are unsheathed in surprise. He tries to reach out, to feel the stone in front of him but there is only open air.

He thinks of a little boy. He still has soft, down feathers and his cobalt armor has not yet hardened into obsidian. He is hiding in a tree as wolves circle beneath him.

The darkness bares its teeth. He tries not to flinch.

The floor crumbles beneath them, and Revali is too slow to fly away for a second time.

Chapter Text

Without any light, Revali loses all perception of the space around him. They could have fallen for a minute, they could have fallen for an hour, he couldn’t say. Their fall was a blind cyclone of rocks, colliding bodies, and the roar of air as they plummeted down.

The slope they rode down was steep. It leveled out suddenly, and Revali rolled several more rotations before he had slowed to a stop.

He groans. Slowly, he pushes himself on to his elbows. There’s a distinctly felt bruise forming over his entire body and he thinks his head feathers were bent out of place during the fall.

As he discretely tries to fix them, the Champions begin to gather themselves from their own landing spots. They seemed to have rolled into another cave. Voices and the dragging of feet echo loudly. Someone coughs and Revali hears a grumble on his left.

When he’s on his feet, he does a swift inspection of the room they’re in. It’s large, judging by the echo. Lining the walls is that barely-there, familiar glow of luminous stones. Their blue light is comforting after the black void of the fall, but there is still that itch of something at the back of his mind.

The Princess stands, dusting herself off. ”What happened? Where are we?”

“Maybe the ten-ton boulder that’s been following us around can answer that question,” Revali mutters.

Really, is it such a surprise that the floor gave out with the hulking Goron with them? A deep laugh rumbles and a playful shove nearly sends him to the floor.

“It doesn’t matter where we are: the only way appears to be forward,” Urbosa says. At her lead, the group begins moving at a crawling pace.

It seems everyone is willing to put aside the previous argument, and Revali is perfectly okay with that. With the immediate danger of cave’s structural stability and the question of how they’re going to get out, the topic now seems pedestrian.

In happily ignoring that, though, he can’t help but feel uneasy. He’s not a paranoid parakeet, but he knows to trust his instincts and right now, something is telling him this is off. He’s waiting for a shadow to move, or for the floor to fall out from under him again, or something. There’s a tingling sensation at the base of his neck and he can’t decide if it’s telling him to fight or flee.

When the princess gasps, it nearly sends his heart to his throat.

She picks up her pace, and the group can do nothing but follow. There’s no urgency in their movement, and when he looks to their destination, he sees why: they are simply going towards the far side of the cave.

But the princess doesn’t stop there. When she gets to the wall, she stands so close she's nearly molding herself to the stone. This peaks Revali’s interest.

Curious, he follows her. In the faint lighting, he sees perhaps the most surprising thing all day: it’s the symbol of the triforce, etched directly into the stone walls. The luminous stones cast stark shadows around the room. It’s hard to see but, eyes straining, he deduces evidence of more carvings; a lot of the surrounding rock is uneven.

Mipha pulls up alongside him and gasps, her smooth scales tapping on the ground as she takes a step closer to the engravings.

Behind him, a voice booms in what must be a Goron whisper, “How strange. Who made it?” A low rumble sounds--Daruk traces a finger across the stone, obviously inspecting an image.

Mipha follows, her wide eyes focused on the tip of her finger as it drags over invisible divets and protrusions.

Revali snips his beak in frustration, willing his eyes to see through the darkness. What are his fellow Champions seeing that he isn’t?

He narrows his eyes to slits. Revali just needs to try harder, surely.

He folds his wings behind his back and leans forward as if enraptured with a particularly abstract painting. Nothing reveals itself.

Hmm, perhaps he is not yet trying his hardest. He tilts his head to the left, and when no striking image spawns, he tilts his head to the right. Then upside down. He opens his eyes as wide as he can. Still, nothing.

Perhaps, maybe, he can see the faint definition of a line. Right there. Maybe.

Revali shakes his head in anger.

The rest of the group has been having a discussion amongst themselves, ignoring how obvious it is that he is out of the loop. Rito are not particularly gifted with the best night vision, which he is made even more aware of when he is the only one in the group gifted with this particular weakness.

“How long do you think these have been here?”

“If I were to guess, your Highness?” Urbosa says, inspecting something to the direct right of the triforce. “They were probably made around the same time as the first Battle of Calamity.”

Silence.

Revali. Doesn’t. Understand.

The feathers on the back of his neck rise.

What is it? Some stupid images carved into a piece of rock in the middle of nowhere can’t be that important! And if they were, why haven’t they told him?

Surely a fellow Champion and pilot of a Hylia-forsaken Divine Beast should be included in their ramblings? Why aren’t they speaking plainly?

Mipha responds, her words hesitant, ”That...can’t be right.”

“How could they know?” The Princess again. “Not even my father knew who the pilots would be until you five proved yourselves worthy. And yet, our ancestors had the knowledge ten thousand years ago?”

Revali, Master of the Great Eagle Bow, Rito warrior, and clucking Vah Medoh pilot will not shout. He will not, no matter how many fools tempt him, raise his voice like a fledgling. He is mature now: he is looked up to by so, so, so so so so many people: people who are easily impressionable in the face of his influence.

He will not make a scene. He will calmly and respectfully ask his...peers to explain what they are seeing, and they will, similarly, respond with patience.

Revali takes a deep breath, and he already feels calmer. His shoulders relax and, removing his eyes from the still frustratingly black wall, addresses the Champions with as much calm he can muster.

“What are you--”

“We should tell the Sheikah about this.”

Revali couldn’t believe his ears. Link—Link—had interrupted him.

The beleaguering audacity!

The lack of respect!

He can barely see the boy’s yellow hair in the low light. He briefly considered violence but reasoned that the Hylian was too far away for him to strangle.

Before any other Champion could cut him off again, Revali rushed out, “What are you insufferable dimwits talking about.”

He hadn’t meant to add the insult, but his quickly gathered calm had dissipated the moment the Knight had opened his mouth.

Silence. Again.

As one, everyone in the cave turns to Revali. At least, he thinks they do based on the ensuing shuffling. Nothing is said.

He stares blankly for several moments before snapping, “Would you like me to repeat myself?”

“I was just about to ask why you were being so quiet. You haven’t gloated for at least ten minutes,” Urbosa says. She sighs, "I should have known not to take the silence for granted.”

“What do you mean, Revali?” Daruk says, chains clinking as he reaches out once more to trace the wall. “We’re talkin’ ‘bout the carvings right here. Fascinating, aren’t they? What d’ya think of them?”

Revali can’t suppress a sharp click of his beak. Do they really not understand?

“I don’t see any carving, you duck. It’s so dark in this room I can hardly see a thing! Truthfully,” he continues, “If the Sheikah had the technology to make indestructible metal and robot protectors you would think they would create some sort of fire-less light source, or something. But no! They’d rather stumble around in the dark! What a devastating design flaw.” Revali sniffs.

Thankfully, this time there is no drawn-out silence following his words.

“There is a good dozen or so luminous stones lighting up the room. How can you not see?” Urbosa says.

Yes, Revali knew that. But the light they emit is not enough to illuminate the carvings. Surely, she is being obtuse on purpose? It certainly isn’t funny if she is.

“What do you mean ‘how can I not see’?”Revali releases a deep breath: he’s offended, blinded, and surrounded by people he feels equally threatened by and resigned to never surpass in anything of value. Words build in his beak: curses, threats, and a spicy side of ranting when he’s interrupted by the sound of flint on stone.

There’s a spark, something bright and real, and wool is caught in an instant. A flame is nurtured and finally, there is illumination.

The light first shines on Mipha, the wielder of the torch, then Link, the one who lit it. The fire grows and then the entire cave is lit up: the rest of the Champions, the Princess, and the elusive cave carving that had got everyone in a frenzy.

Pleased, Revali takes in the sight of the Champions. Then he notices the wall and his interest is caught. He steps back to observe it with a critical eye.

It spans across several feet, stretching from floor to ceiling. The triforce is the focal point, supported on four sides by strangely familiar figures. Surrounding the center are beautiful depictions of the lands of Hyrule: there is Death Mountain, the Hebra slopes, a raging ocean and a calm desert. 

“You’re blind,” a voice says directly into his ear. The Knight, begging to get winged in the face, is like stone when Revali whips around with a glare.

“Yeah, and it appears you’re not a mute. Seems like we’re all learning something new today.”

With the return of his vision, Revali can clearly see the Knight’s responding expression. He’s not sure what it means when a Hylian pokes their tongue out of their mouth, but it seems like a rather impolite gesture.

Frustrated, he turns his back to Link, instead training his glare at the wall. He raises his voice to address the other Champions, ”What’s this about then?”

The princess, who seemed to be entertaining herself by touching every part of the sculpture, turns to him in excitement. She splays her palm flat to the wall and say, ”It’s a prophecy. It must be a forgotten legend that intertwines with the return of the Calamity.”

Doubt sits heavy on Revali’s tongue, but the princess continues. ”Look at the resemblance to the tapestries of the Calamity. This is the princess, and this is the knight with the sword that seals the darkness. But here, these four figures have never been seen in any records before.”

She tells the truth: on either side of the triforce are the princess and knight. They are kneeling as they do in every tapestry Revali has ever seen in reference to the Calamity’s return. Yet, there are four new figures that are as foreign as they are familiar.

Surrounding the princess and knight can only be depictions of the four pilots of the Divine Beasts.

A Goron is on the southern-most part of the engraving, supporting the other figures. His palms are open and his face is kind. Revali must simply be imagining his likeness to another Goron he knows: one with chains on his wrists and full white beard.

On the right is a Gerudo. She’s tall and strong, with red hair that whips around her like a weapon. Her lips reveal peeling laughter and there is a silent power about her: one that is not addressed but known all the same. The left is owned by a little Zora. Her stance is slight, but not weak. She exudes an aura of calm, but not compliance. There is a wisdom that is betrayed by her eyes and an understanding displayed in the twist of her smile. She and the Gerudo both have a hand fisted, almost as if they were drawn mid-strike.

Despite how uncanny the carvings are to the Champions he knows, he refuses to believe that their fate has been pre-determined.

Let the little hero and goddess incarnate be the fruits of an ancient prophecy; he has little say in where their futures lie. But Revali made himself. It took years, and heartache, and he’s still closing the cracks with each passing day, but he did it. He chose to become the best; he chose to master the bow and wind; he fought and fought to carve his destiny into the tough marble of Hyrule’s history; he claimed his fame on the back of a beast of divinity.

So at the sight of a carving with stark similarity to his own plumage, Revali dismissed the engraving in whole.

There is a Rito on the topmost part of the carving. He is arching gracefully upwards, his wings spread in mid-flight, and one wide eye is staring out at the viewer. Even Revali’s scarf is immortalized, flowing in silk ribbons behind him.

He shuffles uncomfortably.

“It makes you wonder, doesn't it? About the technology our ancestors had. And what do you think about the line connecting all the figures together? It looks kind of like a loop, or a circle.”

Revali had, in fact, noticed the circle. He had deduced it as an artistic choice, not giving it a second thought. And with that, Revali was ready to leave. He had seen all the cave had to offer and, turns out it wasn’t all that interesting.

“Perhaps it represents the circle of life? As in, the cycle of birth and death,” Mipha adds.

The princess lights up in consideration and resumes her studying with passion. Urbosa, to his surprise, also steps closer to the wall. She attempts apathy, but he can see the glint of curiosity in her eyes.

“I’m impressed at the detail. They even got my pauldrons.” She touches, feather light, at the stone, and Revali thinks he feels the ground shake. Bringing her attention higher, she clicks her tongue in pity. ”It’s a shame they didn’t extend the same grace to you, Revali. They depicted you with all the characteristics of a frenzied cuckoo, I’m afraid.”

Well, Revali relents, it’s good to know that Urbosa isn’t taking this seriously either.

He says, “They drew you quite flatteringly, I’d say. They took a lot of artistic liberties; it doesn’t look like you at all.”

To his surprise, she laughs. Her cackling laughter echoes around the room and Revali startles: that is the first time he made her laugh. He feels a spark of pride, just for a moment.

It’s rather quickly chased away by that ever-present feeling he’s felt since the Ancient Doors opened that morning. Something is weird about this cave, and he hasn’t decided if it’s good or bad yet.

The Rito are known for their ownership of the skies. Revali doesn’t tend to take flight in the face of danger, but something is telling him to spread his wings and fly as fast and far as he can: from the cave, but specifically from this strange prophecy.

During his pondering, Urbosa had been dragged into a conversation with the Princess. The rest of the group is engaged in a debate of their own, and Revali is trying to ignore how every brush of the carving sends the room into a bout of shivers. It’s almost as if the room itself can feel how fragile the air is—can feel the minute, fundamental changes that are taking place.

There’s a light tap on his arm.

Mipha drags him into the debate. ”These depictions of the four biomes must foretell something, don’t you agree, Revali? The Zora in the image is surrounded by waves. Could this mean a tidal wave is imminent for Zora’s Domain?”

Behind her, Link has taken to poking at the engraving of the Master sword. Revali swears the ground grumbles with each point of contact.

“It’s just art,” Revali says. He doesn’t want to think about the engraving too much. He’s starting on a headache already.

“See, Mipha, you mustn’t worry so much.” Daruk pats her on the shoulder good-naturedly. “I interpreted it a bit differently. I think it’s tryn’a say all parts of Hyrule are unified, in a way.”

Then, wouldn‘t you know it, another miracle is bestowed upon them.

“I still think we need to tell the Sheikah about this. It could be dangerous.” Link says. And really, that in itself should have been a sign that something was off. Revali has only heard Link speak single sentences at a time, and certainly not twice a day.

He feels restless. Uneasiness sends his wings to lift and settle, then lift, then resettle. His feathers itch to take flight. Revali looks to the ceiling, claustrophobic and feeling like the walls could close in any moment.

Something is wrong—something is wrong?

As Revali watches, the Princess once again trails her hand over the wall, but this time her palm settles over the triforce. That oppressing feeling of something something something reaches an apex. The floor begins to shake aggressively again.

Ohh, sometimes Revali really hates being right.

Thinking that the floor will give out again, he reaches out to steady himself. Unfortunately, the closest thing ends up being the prophecy engraving. His wing reaches out, and as soon as he makes contact, a blinding light fills the room.

The shaking stops immediately afterwards, but Revali doesn’t notice: he and the Champions had collapsed, unconscious, to the floor.

---/\---

In those brief seconds between Before and After, Revali didn’t think about much, and he doesn't really like to remember the things he did think about.

All he could see within the darkness of his mind was the drawing of him in the prophecy. He thought about the large, green pupil looking out towards the viewer. Revali thought he could feel it, then, looking directly at him.

All seeing.

All knowing.

The eye did not blink during those few moments, and he could still feel it staring as he was thrust into consciousness.

There was a crack, a pop, and his mind burst. He felt things that didn’t belong be shoved in. It wasn’t exactly painful, but the suddenness was startling.

He woke up.

---/\---

When Revali opened his eyes, he was laying flat on his back, his wing outstretched towards the wall.

He simply blinked for a few moments, reorientating himself. That was...a bit unusual.

As he sat up, he watched everyone else as they recovered. The Knight was dutifully hovering over the Princess. Mipha was nearby as well, asking if anyone had any injuries. Daruk was looking up at the ceiling as if expecting rocks to fall loose and Urbosa was looking skeptically around the room.

Bizarrely, no one seems to be looking for an exit.

“That was, if nothing else, an experience,” Revali stands, dusting himself off. ”I think we got all we needed. Shall we conclude today’s “Champions’ Adventure” while we’re still standing and not crushed under a pile of rocks?”

He shuffles towards when they came from, trying to urge the group to leave.

Urbosa didn’t move an inch. She raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

“We need to find out what just happened. It’s not normal for people to simultaneously collapse.” She jerked her head, indicating a path. “Me and Daruk can head this way, further down the tunnel. Everyone should expect to--”

Yellow electricity lights up the room for a second. Revali snaps his head over just in time to see Urbosa and Daruk jump apart. Mipha’s hand is raised to her mouth in shock, but Revali is angry.

“What do you think you’re doing! You want to bring the cave down on top of us?”

Urbosa looks more surprised than Mipha. “I-I had just touched him! Only for a second. The strangest thing happened, too, it was like...”

Daruk’s brow is furrowed. He and Urbosa hold a stare for a moment. The Goron takes a deep breath, looking down at his palms.

“It was...indescribable, really. I don’ even know how to describe it. Mipha, do ya’ mind if I...?”

When she nods, Daruk reaches out to her. He hesitates a moment, then gently touches her shoulder.

This time, Revali is watching intently. They both flinch at contact. Mipha’s healing magic briefly flares up and the two are bathed in an unnatural light. After a moment though, her magic retreats and the two are left staring at each other, their facial expressions changing the longer the contact is maintained.

After 10 awkward seconds of silence, Revali considers whistling to pass the time.

”What?” Mipha says. It’s more of an exclamation than a question, and the two separate.

Mipha’s hand is clenching around her spear and her eyes are wide, staring around the cave with a look of wonder. She looks to be deep in thought. When her gaze lands on him, she lights up.

“Revali! Look, you have to see this too.”

This is strange, he’s thinking. Leaving it to him to be the only one to not get a concussion.

Are they experiencing group psychosis?

Whatever it is, he strictly wants no part of it.

She comes up to him and before he could react, wraps her hand around his lower arm. Then, the most implausible thing happens.

—oh this is so exciting! Wow, how interesting! Oh, hello Revali! How are you? Hello! This is Mipha! This happened with Daruk too. Somehow we can talk through our minds. Isn’t this cool!

...Oh, you don’t seem very excited, Revali. Is that...hmm. Are you feeling worried? Oh my, I hadn’t thought—

Revali wrentched himself away. He stared at her. He opened his beak, then closed it.

Despite the exchange taking place only in his mind, he still feels strange when he looks around the room realizes that no one else heard. Her voice had sounded so clear in his mind.

His fists clench. What had she heard from him?

(That eye. Staring out. All seeing: all knowing.)

He walks a few paces away from her, needing a moment to rationalize what was happening. Revali didn’t take into account Daruk, however, and had put himself well within range.

“Hey there, doin’ okay—?” The Goron reached out, and as soon as they touched that same flood of foreign thoughts filled his head.

...what is going on—what a crazy day this turned out to be. Is he okay? He looked spooked for a moment—oh. Hey Revali. I know this is crazy, but you should really calm down.

Within meaning to, a gust of wind erupted between them. This shocked the both of them into pulling away. Almost immediately, the wind stopped.

His thoughts had an almost desperate taste to them just then. He tried running through explanation after explanation—he apparently also had a concussion, the group psychosis was contagious, he was dreaming—but none of them made any sense. He considered himself a pretty sensible guy: he wasn’t going to randomly go crazy after spontaneously blacking out.

There had to be a logical answer for this.

Urbosa seemed to have composed herself pretty well. “I’m sure we can find a perfectly reasonable, sensical reason for all of this. Now,” she continues, ”who is going to provide one?”

From the other side of the room, having been momentarily forgotten, the Princess moves. Her eyes are wide and her breathing is quick. Revali’s stomach plummets when he notices that her hand is shaking as she points.

The wall, once beautifully engraved and painted in their likeness only moments before, is scorched black. It looks like the whole prophecy had been burned right off the stone.

The only thing that remained was the circle.

Forget logical conclusions. Revali decides he must have been cursed.

“Oh duck”, he mutters.

Chapter Text

Purah pushes her goggles up and pinches the space between her eyes. She lets out a long, heavy sigh before settling back in her chair. She looks a decade older than she did that morning with the stress lining her face. 

“Let me get this straight,” the words are uttered slowly, as if she is thinking hard about them. ”You all entered the Ancient Doors—the source of strange local phenomena and what has been causing all of our scanners to go crazy—and there was nothing?” 

The Champions are all gathered in the center tent. Purah sits behind a large table with her hands clenched tightly, her expression nearly a glare. Besides their group, there are a few other scientists pattering about.  

Robbie is standing beside her, his dark goggles glancing about rapidly.  

“Well, in their defense, there was an earthquake—” 

“Then,” Purah interrupts. “You allow yourselves to be caught off guard by a bit of tectonic plate shifting? You are the best warriors the Kingdom has, and you lot were almost bested by some falling rock. That negligence could have costed the Princess her life.” 

Revali’s arms tighten across his chest and he looks away from the steadily fuming scientist.  

“By the way, Princess,” Purah says. She grabs the Sheikah Slate off the table and shows the screen to her audience as she swipes through a dozen dark, blurry images. ”Great job on capturing your fall. At least we would have known what the last thing you saw was. Oh! I think you might have actually got a face in that one.” 

She holds the Slate up in the air and doesn’t even blink as it is seamlessly passed to a different scientist. 

“You have to give them some credit Purah. The cave they found—” Robbie is cut off again. 

“Only one part of your mission was a success, and you didn’t even do it on purpose. You found a cave containing heiroglyphs and what you assumed was an original prophecy from our ancestors, and yet your first thought wasn‘t to return so me and my team could do our jobs. No! It was to touch it! And now it’s been burned out of existence!” 

She’s in a full rage now, and not even Robbie tries to interrupt her.  

“Now the Doors are closed. Our whole operation here is at a standstill. The King won’t get the report he wanted, and my team has now been wasting away in the snow for a month for nothing.” 

Revali frowns. The Ancient Doors closing can’t be blamed on them. Honestly! No one had expected it.  

After that exchange in the cave (which was unfortunately not a collective hallucination), the group decided to follow Urbosa’s earlier suggestion and travel deeper. They traveled for less than five minutes when they felt a breeze. A few steps later, they saw sunlight. 

They had somehow got turned around and returned back to the beginning. They were at the Ancient Doors once more.  

They were met with thunderous applause and cheering. The air of excitement was an unsettling mood change from the darkness of the cave. How could they be so cheerful when his entire life was just uprooted?  

He had immediately turned his back to the crowd, marching up the path to his tent. He needed a moment to himself to process what had just happened. 

Slam!  

The Knight was trailing at the end of the group. Just as he stepped over the threshold, the doors flew closed behind him. 

The cheering stopped. Everyone rushed to the equipment, trying to figure out what went wrong. As the doors sealed, the runes in the metal glowed a brief, unnatural blue. Then the light faded back into the grooves. The doors stood then, as they do now, solemn and dark. 

Ever since, the Sheikah have been working round the clock to get the doors open. If they had asked him, though, he would have told them to not bother trying.  

He has a feeling that no one is going through those doors again for a long, long time. 

The room is silent in the wake of Purah’s words as everyone remembers what happened no more than an hour before. A sound that reminds Revali of grinding rocks comes from Daruk as he scratches the back of his head. There’s the rustling of cloth as the Knight shifts his weight. 

There is only so long Revali will allow himself to marinate in this manufactured failure. 

“Yes, but what about the image that the Princess captured on the Sheikah Slate. Does that not warrant some celebration?” 

“Right!” Robbies exclaims - at least someone else recognizes this is not an absolute failure. "That was a beautiful picture, Princess, truly. I’m sure it will greatly help us in understanding what exactly the prophecy was explaining.” 

In a back table, several artists have gathered around the Slate. It is opened to a singular picture of the prophecy - the only image the Princess was able to capture. In it, the Circle looks to be almost golden. Three artists are working on copying it onto a large piece of parchment while two others work individually on smaller scrolls. 

Purah laughs, waving her hand as if disregarding the sentiment. ”If we include your rather meek information of the cave runes, we can’t forget what else you all brought back from the cave.” 

At that, Revali clenches his jaw. Just the reminder of it has him resisting a shiver.  

“We would have left it behind if we could,” Urbosa finally speaks up. She looks more put together than he feels. “But it seems to have...stuck to us. It had dug in and won’t let go.” 

“I think I speak for all of us when I say we would’ve been better off if we had left this.. thing down in the cave,” Revali mutters. They are all, of course, referring to the strange ability to mind-speak they contracted after touching the prophecy.  

And yes, ‘contracted’. Revali refuses to refer to this thing as anything less than an illness: annoying, but brief. All they need to do is find a cure.  

“Yes, but you couldn’t leave it, could you,” Purah says, brows forming a deep crease. “It’s a part of you now. Do you all even have a plan to deal with it? Haven’t you discussed it amongst yourselves for just a moment about how it will affect you?” 

“We are strong,” Link says. His voice sounds like a whisper next to Purah’s fury. “This will not affect our ability to fulfill our duties.” 

“Hold hands with Revali then. For thirty seconds.” 

Immediately, the Rito jumps back. No. He will not be subjected to whatever self-righteous thoughts that must be drifting around in Links head. 

The Hylian frowns lightly. ”I would rather not.” 

“If you won’t create contact willingly,” Robbie speaks up, ”What do you expect will happen in the heat of battle? What if you simply brush past each other and become overwhelmed? It can become a hindrance if you do not address it.” 

Robbie and Purah’s eyes meet for a moment. An indecipherable look passes between them. Purah’s mood shifts instantly, though Revali is not sure it is for the better.  

“I agree. In fact, I think this...connection can even be used to your advantage. You could communicate whole strategies in seconds, making you more efficient—” 

“—maybe you could pass along messages, feelings, images!—” Robbie adds. 

“But of course, that is only if you test it out. Experiment, you might even say. There are unknown capabilities of this Connection. It only makes sense that you would test its limits.” 

Robbie is outright grinning now, nodding in excitement. ”Yes! Me and Purah have the facilities to help! We can do trials to get a feel of what exactly this...connection is. Then we can define the parameters.” 

Revali finally deciphers what that glint in Purah’s eye is: scientific fascination. She is looking at them like they’re her next lab rat. Like they’re something to be dissected and understood. It’s dehumanizing. She doesn’t understand the feeling of losing a part of her independence: to be tied to an entity entirely not her own. Robbie is just as hungry for knowledge, ignorant of the insensitive way he portrays himself. 

The princess looks up. She has stood, regal and unmoved, the whole time, framed in a half circle by the Champions. Revali is behind her so he cannot see her expression when she meets the gazes of the two head scientists. 

“You mean to experiment on us—on this...thing that has happened to us?” 

The two nod, looking hopeful. ”It would be to your benefit.” 

The princess nods. She thinks for a moment. “We decline your offer.” 

She walks out of the tent without a glance back.  

Revali is thankful for her bluntness, and the sentiment spreads when he realizes no one else spoke up to go against her. It seems the other Champions share one thing if nothing else: the desire to bury this “Connection“ deep and turn the other way.  

One by one, they follow the Princess out. 

—-/\-—

Revali doesn’t have dreams very often. He grew out of them. 

Dreams are for fledglings or fools, and with a status like his he can’t afford to be either. When he sleeps, he is wrapped in an opaque curtain, both dark and comforting. But no dreams. He always wakes refreshed and ready to take on anything. 

Yes, Revali always sleeps well, but he never dreams. Which is why tonight is strange. He knows he’s asleep, with that inexplicable sense that everyone has but can’t explain. He knows he fell asleep in his tent at Kopeeki Drifts last night. He feels that familiar lull of nothingness that reliably rocks him unconscious each night. 

But there is something different. The black curtain around his is shifting, as if blown by a wind. Blue and green lights filter through. This lethargic space in his mind suddenly feels alive . An ache grows in him—the wish to return to a home he’s never had. 

Revali has never been a curious bird. He has never had a desire to uncover the unknown if the known did a good enough job. There is safety in familiarity—this is something he knows more of than most. 

So Revali doesn’t push the curtain aside. He doesn’t peak behind the veil to glimpse the aurora that sings behind.  

 He and the curtain stared at each other until morning, an abyss between them.

—-/\-—

Revali sees the messenger just as she crests over the mountain.  

Breakfast is a lazy but no less extravagant affair. The Princess and the Champions have all gathered at one table. It’s awkward. Everyone is dancing around what happened yesterday—both the argument and the following insanity with the mind speaking. 

He had been worried for so long about whether he would fit in with them that he didn’t even consider what could be worse. 

Though to be fair, who expects to have their mind melded with five other individuals? And that they were all expected to save the world together? 

Revali was eager for an excuse to step away from the table, and the messenger arrived at the perfect time. He remembered to excuse himself to his companions at the last moment and then he was off, flying to meet the messenger midway. 

The Rito he meets has the slim, lean build that many messengers tend to have. She clearly tries to go for maturity but the eager glint in her eyes betrays her youth.  

Messaging is a common job for teenagers and young adults. It uses both the youthful desire to see the world and the energy needed to do it and puts it to good use. Revali may have been a messenger, in another life. But he found a different calling - one he does not regret for all the world.

The two greet each other casually. Inwardly, Revali is relieved to finally get news from Elder. He had been at this post for over a week now. Hopefully, she sends word of a different matter that needs his attention.  

It’s not that he wants to leave Kopeeki Drifts.  

Truly!  

He has grown beyond such petty feelings of spite and pride. However... after yesterday, he would appreciate a change of scenery. 

Revali says he is ready to receive the message, and she begins. She relays the message in a rambly manner, going off on tangents and losing track of herself multiple times. She finishes with a wide-eyed look, nearly shaking out of her feathers with energy. 

He takes several seconds to respond. He gathers himself and thanks her for her timely arrival, like you’re supposed to do if you wish to make a friend of your messenger.  

She nods firmly in a way that is clearly modeled after someone else. Seeing as they're still midair, she uses her beak to rustle through her bag and pull out several letters. Each is edged in a rich red dye and scribed in neat, purposeful hand. The little messenger flicks a wave then she’s off, flying South over the mountain. 

He shakes his head, almost charmed by her enthusiasm.  

Then he remembers the letters clutched in his beak. His amusement recedes and he is left feeling heavy with dread. It seems his time of levity is at its end.  

The letters are invitations. The Rito are hosting a celebration in Tabantha Village for the Champions before their departure.  

Tonight.

This is just great! There could not have been a worse time for the Elder to play hostess. It is with great reluctance that he supposes it is a good thing: hosting the leaders of all of Hyrule’s regions is a great honor. After a few seconds of thought, he can’t even says he blames Elder for taking the opportunity. Who knows that next time a princess or chief will return to their icy corner of the kingdom.

There’s not much he can change about the celebration tonight, unless he decides to tear the letters up and burn the evidence. He doesn’t have to be happy about it, but he might as well try to enjoy it.

—-/\-—

It is rude to deny an invitation by a chief of a people: this is known throughout the whole kingdom of Hyrule. Everyone had accepted their invitation readily enough. Even the two head scientists were invited, along with the Sheikah warrior, Impa. 

Purah was not discouraged after the refusal last night and seemed to take advantage of the close quarters that traveling by wagon enforced. She was persistent, he would give her that. She seemed to have drawn up a diagram overnight, complete with arrows and bullet points of all the reasons they should let themselves be subjected to her testing. 

The only respite was that the wagon was open-top, giving Revali the excuse of admiring the landscape, which he was currently taking advantage of. The Princess of the Zora, however, had unfortunately sat next to the scientist and was subjected to the full force of Purah’s poor persuasive skills. He could conjure no feeling of pity for Mipha: he found it too amusing. 

Daruk was ambling alongside the wagon. Due to his biology, he was unable to join them sitting, which allowed him to avoid the conversation altogether. The oblivious oaf was having the time of his life, kicking up snow and gazing up at the surrounding peaks with wide-eyed fascination.  

Daruk is supposedly the best of the Gorons, and yet Revali hasn’t seen anything to prove it. He finds himself looking at the Goron Chief in times like this, almost wanting to catch a glimpse of his might—of his skill or power that gave him such esteem among his people. He has yet to find it. 

He feels much the same about the Knight, of course, but Revali decides it is too early in the evening to be waxing about his hatred of the boy. Tonight he is reunited with his people. It is a night of celebration. He will not let himself ruin it before it has already begun. 

Traveling by wagon is strange for Revali. He has only ridden by horse a featherful of times before, and none of them were so great that he desired to do so again.  

Horses are hateful creatures, with wild eyes and a personal dislike for anything that crosses its path. Revali feels that the most unfortunate thing Hylians attempted was to tame the beasts, for it only resulted in an increase in disappearance of straw hats and allowing them free range of civilized settlements.

The worst part of traveling by wagon is that it is just slow. With his wings and gale, he is more than efficient at getting where he wants to go, and in good time too.

When they finally saw the rooftops of houses, marking their arrival at Tabantha Village, they had been traveling for about three hours. He can tell that the celebration has already started. The sound of drumming and string instruments carry over the snow. There are many Rito circling over the village. The ribbons tied to their feet billow out behind them, painting lines in the sky.  

Purah does not seem to have noticed. She is going over reason nine, he thinks. Her partner, however, peers around the front of the wagon, his goggles imitating a squint. 

“Is that Tabantha Village?” 

Oh, the poor, poor man. Revali wonders what it must be like, to have a mind as quiet as his must be.

Revali replies gently, “Yes, Robbie. That is Tabantha Village. Our destination.” 

The Hylian nods seriously in response. ”Ah.” 

It takes a few more minutes, but they finally reach the Tabantha Hills. The village is alive. Decorations darn every building and music bounces off walls, giving you the feeling of being surrounded by sound. Someone laughs from the sky and sweeps down, a string of bells and flowers trailing behind them. Revali spots young ones playing in the snow to the right, and as the wagon travels down the cobble streets, passerbys wave hello.  

They ride further. Tabantha Village is both a Hylian and Rito settlement. The mixture of cultures is apparent: snowmen made with wings and a beak, people with strings tied round their wrists, nests that are built with clear Hylian influence. 

They reach the main source of the music. It’s a large square, set within a perimeter of tall buildings.  

Revali’s eyes are drawn to a long table. It is situated a step above the rest of the plaza, with enough seating for about two dozen people. Despite being surrounded by both Rito and Hylian council members all consumed in pleasant conversation, Revali easily spots Elder. She seems just as keen as ever. As the wagon slows to a stop, she spots them and sends a smile their way. 

He will need to speak with her after the main celebration. He has felt wound up pulled too tight ever since he left the village. There is something looming in Hyrule’s future—something that he feels he is not prepared for. With his abilities he can go far, he is sure. There is not another Rito warrior who passes him in combat, nor anyone who can summon the wind like him. But he doesn’t think the village is capable of sustaining itself without him yet.  

It could take months for the villages to prepare. He can’t just leave them vulnerable while he goes out on a wild goose chase—one that may not even have any merit! 

Yes, he must speak to Elder as soon as possible. It is imperative to the future safety of the village. 

—-/\-—

Introductions, speeches, a welcome march by the warrior brigade, speeches, an honorary song by the local band, first meal, an ancestral dance performance, and then more speeches.  

Hours. It took hours until he could excuse himself without breaking social expectations. There are several steps and rituals that go into a Rito celebration. While not as strict as Hylians, it is still important in his culture to exercise proper manners during formal occasions.  

The final speech of the night had finished, though, meaning he was free to go. They just began serving second meal when he left, trying not to look like he was fleeing. 

There is only so long he can stand to be around the other Champions and the Princess. He could not bear to pretend to mingle with them and make small talk when that is the last thing he wants to do. 

Besides, he is going to be traveling across Hyrule with them for the foreseeable future after tonight. He is sure he’s going to get sick of their company sooner rather than later, so he sees no reason not to delay all long as he can. 

He walked far from the celebration.

It was suffocating, almost. Hebra felt uncharacteristically stuffy tonight. He blames it on the large number of lit torches instead of the clammy feeling in his chest. He kept walking, past houses and stables, until he looked up and found himself looking out across Tanagar Canyon. 

Revali always wanted to see the world. He always wanted to fly beyond the snow-capped mountains of Hebra and see the rest of Hyrule. 

But now, with all the land laid out before him across the ravine, he feels small. There is a weight looming over his head, and he feels like one step outside of the patch of light he’s standing in, and it will drop on his skull and crush him. 

He never feels like this. He is Revali! Archer, hero to many, and all-around most well liked Rito Warrior! He’s the Champion of Vah Medoh, if you hadn’t heard, and he earned that title through hard work and nonstop training. 

He is capable of defeating the Calamity, too. But the rest of Hyrule and the Sword that seals the darkness hasn’t caught up yet. 

He has done all this. So why now, on the precipice of the most important adventure of his life, does this fear captivate him? 

Revali exhales sharply. He fixes his Champion’s scarf around his neck and glares across the canyon. The ice is cold under his feet, but he doesn’t use the excuse to retreat back to the warmth of the village.  

What a pitiful night this turned out to be. It was supposed to be a celebration, but it felt more akin to a funeral. He saw his peers and neighbors throughout the night. He enjoyed reuniting with them all too much. It hurt when he had to tell them that no, he would not be returning with them to Rito Village.  

There are so many people who have not yet experienced the greatness of the Rito, he would smirk. He gestured grandly to himself, saying that he would be the one to introduce them to it. 

It had worked easily enough in easing their minds. They would laugh, or scoff, and they would part ways. There was only one person he still needed to speak with, though. 

Footsteps sound softly behind him. He knows who it is before he hears her voice. 

“Are you finished with your tantrum, dear? Did the night air cool you off?“ Elder chuckles softly as she settles next to him. 

She wears a long, dignified shawl that dangles just above the snow. He offers her his elbow on reflex and her frail wings clasp around him. She is warm, he notices, and his glare melts flat off his face. 

“I don’t know what you mean, Elder. I just came out here for some fresh air.” 

Elder hums, unconvinced. She looks at him out of the corner of her eye, ”I’ve known you since you were just a baby, dear. You’ll going to have to do better than that.” 

Revali sighs, but internally he’s grateful. Oh, it’s so relieving to be around someone he knows. Yes, her borderline coddling and gentleness can get overwhelming at times, but it’s expected. It’s part of the routine between them. 

There is so much he could tell Elder—the fiasco in the cave, his unfounded worries about the future, the feelings of inadequacy he’s been holding onto for months, the deeply burried worry of failing everyone that he doesn’t allow even himself too acknowledge—but he settles for half-truths. 

“It’s.. Nothing that can be helped. I suppose it was to be expected, but there is a tension in the group that I wasn’t quite anticipating.” 

Elder gives his arm a squeeze. He continues. ”It sours an already bad situation. Really, I’m roped in with them and I’m expected to not only save Hyrule, but play nice with these characters as well?” Revali turns his head, struggling to contain the anger that wells up in him. “I just—I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I want to make you and the village proud, but--” 

Revali bites his tongue. Nope, nope, nope. That’s moving into ‘sincere’ territory. That’s too much.  

Elder squeezes again. She doesn’t say anything. His words hang stagnant in the air, unaddressed and slowly fading to mist. There is a simpleness to it. Those fears, having felt heavy where they weighed on his mind, seem to evaporate.  

“We will be fine, Revali. Me and the village have survived well enough before you came along. We won’t fall apart if you leave for a few months.” 

Revali scoffs. ”I know you won't “fall apart”—” 

“But you’re worried about it all the same.” 

Revali scoffs again but doesn’t refute it.  

Elder chuckles good-naturedly. "You worry too much, dear. Here I am, excited for all the lies ahead of you, and you haven’t even thought about it yet, have you?” 

Gently, oh-so gently, Elder turns and guides them back to the village. Her pace is measured - so slow that he can’t even find it in him to be mad at her for dragging him back to the festivities. 

“I have an assignment for you tonight, Revali.” 

“Oh, goody.” 

“Tonight, you are to enjoy the celebration that has been put together. It took a lot of work, and it is partly for you. Then, starting tomorrow morning until you reach the castle, you are to think about your future and what you want your place to be in it. The Calamity is on the horizon. It would bring my heart if it arrives and you have not yet found who you are.” 

“I already know who I am, Elder. I am Revali, master of—” 

“Hush, Revali. Not until tomorrow.” 

He huffs. But there is a smile on his face.  

The two of them reenter the town. The festivities are still in full swing, and probably will be for a while yet. He will catch up with Elder first, he decides. Then he will fulfill her request and enjoy the party.  

He thinks he saw Ginny and Phinx around he somewhere... 

Chapter Text

The land spread out below him is green. The mid-Spring weather is clear in the dots of grazing deer, fishermen collecting at the river, and brushes of flowers on the landscape. A warm breeze blows and Revali sighs, tipping forward and continuing his slow flight. Hebra peaks are far in the distance, now, the skyline ahead instead replaced by the marvel that is Hyrule Castle: their destination. Fog from the surrounding lake blurs the base of the structure, making it seem almost ethereal.

Once leaving the Tabantha Tundra, Revali let the warm air settle under his feathers. Days of travel landed them firmly in Rowan Plain: a flat area with frequent small settlements. Even as Revali focuses his gaze forward, following the thread of road beneath him, the knowledge that Rito Village is behind him is a constant. It reminds him of who he’s fighting for. The people who trust in him to keep their flock alive and their nests safe. It’s a heavy weight.

Still, it reminds that small, childish part of him that he actually did it! He’s actually a Champion! He can finally begin his quest of vanquishing the Calamity (excusing the…slight hiccup that is this “Connection” business).

Revali takes a deep breath, then spins up in a rush of air. He snaps his wings open at an additional 100 feet of height. He gazes out over Hyrule. The kingdom he attributes his destiny to. It almost looks like the land is bathed in gold.

After half an hour, Revali finally decides to descend from his flight. Ah, what a relaxing stretch. He’s in no hurry as he lowers himself in a glide. The Rito returns to the point of his take off. There is a small collection of trees and the dissipating smoke of a campfire being put out. He lands a few paces from the horses. The other champions are gathered in a circle and don’t notice him.

Hmm, after all that flying he’s feeling a bit peckish. Revali stretches languidly, taking a deep breath and moving to stand in the shade of a nearby tree. He shifts through his feathers and rearranges any that are skewed as he waits for the buffoons to finish up.

Chatter catches his attention and he looks over. A map is spread out on the stump of a tree, kept in place by a dagger stabbed through the top. Urbosa and Link are peering over it, taking turns pointing at intervals. It takes about a minute for the Gerudo chief to notice him. When she does, she glares.  

“Now look who finally decided to show up,” she says, planting a fist at her hip. “I was starting to think you’d followed after a mirage. What took you so long, you were only tasked with finding the Exchange.”

He didn't forget they were waiting for him. He just...took his time.

“Oh, forgive me if that inconvenienced you. Sitting here doing nothing for thirty whole minutes must have been very tiresome.” He walks up to the map, ignoring the annoyed twist of Urbosa’s lips. He points to abouts where they are now and traces the road down. “The road we are on now leads directly to the Maritta Exchange. Judging by the distance I would say no more than a few hours’ ride. At our pace we will make it there by three in the afternoon.”

Link, who been watching the whole interaction, widens his eyes at Urbosa in an I-told-you-so gesture. It is a very sassy expression for the knight. It’s justified, though. A little way back the princess asked a passing traveler for directions. The man proceeded to freak out for a whole five minutes, because Holy Hylia, you’re the princess?!?! Oh man, my wife is never going to believe this! But once he calmed down, he gave the same directions that Revali just relayed. Urbosa hadn’t trusted him and had sent Reavli off to scope the land ahead. Link, however, had advocated for the traveler’s honesty from the start.

Urbosa, of course, catches the look. “Alright. You were right, Link.” She plucks the dagger with a hunter’s swiftness and pockets the map. “It’s time we get back on the road.”

The group, which had stayed within hearing range talking amongst themselves, got up. Small belongings were packed away and packs were tightened securely on waiting steads. Revali watched for a second. He felt a hunger pang in his stomach. With sudden indignation, the Rito snapped his gaze to the pile of coals.

“Hey!” Revali says. “When we said we were stopping for lunch, I thought that wouldn’t be until after I got back from my flight.”

Daruk shuffles past. His huge pack rattles on his back. He says cheerfully. “It’s like ya’ said, Revali. It got real tiresome sitting here waiting for you, and we got hungry!”

The big boulder laughs. Revali scowls, looking dejectedly at his horse. The next few hours of this ride will be dreadfully, dreadfully long.

--/\--

Sleeping under the night sky, Revali discovers, feels oddly freeing. Nests are built with large windows that give large views of the sky, true, but on the road it is different. In Rito Village, every experience is shared. What he means by that is, if you are ten years old and make a messy flower crown for Elder, the whole village will know by dinner, ensuing from then on an embarrassing joke that everyone remined you of. Sleeping in the village feels safe. Your neighbors are no more than five steps out the door.

Out here, any Hylian settlements are distant lights on the plain. There is only the crackling of the fire and the accompanying noises of your sleeping companions. Yes, sleeping on the hard ground isn’t pleasant, but on nights he can’t rest Revali looks up, watching the twinkling of the stars. It’s isolation, but in a good way. A way that feels that the world is large, full of mysteries yet uncovered and places not yet seen.

The group has stopped for dinner not long ago. That morning, dew collected on Revali’s blanket and wasn’t able to dry from its place packed on the bottom of his bag. He had found it and frowned, throwing the fabric over a nearby branch for it to dry.

A fire crackles a scant few feet from him. From which, two skewers of poultry cook. Today had been his day of hunting and he decided to hunt food from home he was sorely missing. All he had to season was salt rock, pepper, and a bit of Hylain herb that the knight provided, but he thinks it will turn out well regardless.

Daruk had already finished his rock roast (where’s the diversity? how many times in a row can a person eat the same thing before going mad?) and was laughing about something with Link. Despite their familiar tone, Revali noticed how the two of them – and everyone else – kept a solid foot of distance. No one wanted there to be any risk of contact, and of course that horrible “Connection”.

That little journal the princess carries has to be filled with dozens of theories and questions about the cursed thing by now. He sees her writing in it sometimes while they are riding. She never shows it to anyone, but she verbalizes her thoughts on occasion. Her inquiries about what the Connection could mean for the prophecy and the approaching Calamity never fails to spark discourse among the Champions, and silence from him. The other want nothing to the with the Connection, he knows. Which is why he wonders why they engage in conversation about it.

He thinks about it too, admittedly. Not often! He’s not worried, or anything. But how could he not think about it? He wants rid of it. He doesn’t need to ‘figure it out’.

The voice of the knight breaks him out of his thoughts. “How long are you cooking these for, Revali?”

The archer looks at the skewers and jumps at the slight char he sees. He plucks the sticks out of the ground – but not too fast that it looks panicked, of course. He sees one that looks like it will give a particularly harsh crunch to the consumer and slides that portion onto the knight's plate.

“Hmm, I suppose they are done.” Revali was never a particularly skilled cook. He is never more aware of this fact than when he divvies out the princess’ portion. The self-consciousness is covered by a mocking, “I hope your tastes aren’t too fine for a meal like this, your Highness.”

“Not at all,” she replies, a bit sharp. She bites into the (admittedly horribly cooked) bird leg and doesn’t show anything but the twitch of an eye.

Revali then takes a seat and happily begins to dig into his meal. He chews. This is far from the worst meal he’s ever thrown together.

He hears a hum and looks up. Mipha is picking politely at the meal. Curious eyes peer back, stark against the redness of her scale. Completely unprompted, she responds to his stare.

“It’s nothing Revali. It’s just a bit strange to me that you chose poultry on your night to cook, considering you are a Rito and all.”

Revali’s eyes near pop out of his head. Considering that absolute lack of reaction from the other Champions, they missed the blatant rudeness of that comment. From a Princess, too! There’s a reason why it’s an insult to call someone a duck (besides, of course, the unsavory and just lame attributes of the common duck.) The Rito do enjoy bird related puns, but to call one a bird and mean it is one of the most severe insults.

They didn’t know about the bad eyesight in the cave, Revali reminds himself. But that doesn’t make him feel more forgiving.

“We’re you not just waxing about how much you miss your beloved sizzlefin? You eat fish for a being Zora.”

Anger sparks in those yellow eyes. “Zora are not fish!” She exclaims. Instantly, she realizes his point. The anger shifts to something sorry. “Ohh…I-I’m sorry, Revali. Forgive me, I spoke without thinking of what I was saying.”

Revali focuses his eyes on his plate, shrugging nonchalantly. “Just don’t share those thoughts with other Rito. Hylians come to the village, sometimes, having never met a Rito before. Comments like that get them thrown out with a lifetime ban.”

“I understand,” Mipha says, and he wants to deny that she can on instinct. “We like our Hylian visitors in the Domain. Truly, we do, but that amount of ‘fish people’ jokes I’ve heard…” She shakes her head, jewlery tinkling gently. Her hands fold in her lap, and she looks at him with open regret. “Sincerely, Revali. I am sorry for my words.”

There’s a little nugget of endearment forming in Revali. One he ignores with the full force of his masterful, iron-forged mental strength. Yes, Revali will ignore it.

He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, you’re forgiven. Now can you let me finish my dinner? I didn’t kill my evolutionary cousin for nothing.”

--/\--

Finally, they cross Carok Bridge and officially enter Hyrule field. After several stops at stables and the Exchange for supplies, and dragging the princess past the Royal Ancient Lab, they are at the last leg of their journey.

Two pairs of guards stationed nearby wave. The princess nods royally back.

The group is eager to arrive, and many days of calm travel has made them relaxed. They travel the road at an easy pace, talking amongst themselves sometimes, but mostly just taking in the hills around them and the skittering of squirrels. Small birds flitter in the trees, and the morning sun warms his feathers. Some Rito may give in and start singing to the wind, but Revali holds tight. A Rito’s song is something special. At least, to Revali, it is. To share it is something sacred.

Behind, the princess scoffs, but it’s harshness is overruled by her giggles. “Daruk, I don’t care how delicious you claim they are, I cannot eat rock roast! It can hardly be considered food for a Hylian.”

“Trust me, Princess, one bite will change your mind! Little guy over there can’t get enough when he comes to visit.”

“Oh, that’s just Link,” the princess says. The words are not fond. He listens as she clearly wrestle with the words she wants to voice. Something more about her appointed knight, he guesses, but she holds them in with a sigh.

Revali tilts his head, scanning the land around them. His Great Eagle Bow occupies its permanent residence on his back and a quiver of arrows sits at his hip. The Champions around him are similarly armed, as they have been through the whole trip. Despite his, at times, less than stellar opinions of them, they have never fallen short of his expectations of preparedness. Their ability as warriors is admirable. The question of if some (cough Link) deserves their status remains to be seen.

If this is all that little knight deals with, then the average farmer could do the “Hero’s” duty.

Daruk doesn’t let the silence grow awkward after the princess’ words. “Well, don’t get fault lines worrying about it. When you come to Eldin, we’ll cook ya’ up a meal that’ll put anything you ate at the castle to shame!” The two laugh. The sound almost – almost – covering the sound of a released arrow.

Immediately he launches into the air, drawing his bow and looking to the scene as the rest of the Champions act in tandem. Revali takes one look of the trajectory of the arrow and knows no expert was behind the bow, but Daruk activates his shield regardless, angling himself so that the projectile shatters on it. Link was faster than all of them, jumping down from his horse and taking care of the bokoblin leading the charge. Urbosa was a quick second, swinging herself into a low crouch before charging at the next monster.

The bokoblins – mostly blue, he notes – must have come from a camp not too far from here. There are at least ten. A large hoard, with archers at a higher point on the hill and those with swords charging with wild, foaming mouths.

The archers are easy to dispose of: two releases of the string and the bokoblins fall with shrill squeals. He turns to the direction the monsters seem to have come from and heads there with a downward flap of his wings. He hears the thunk of Mipha’s spear behind him. They can handle themselves.

Revali finds the monster camp with no difficulty. He crests the hill and sees it: rudimentary platforms built around a tree. Waste litters the ground, and crude cloth lay in heaps. Revali spots a wagon. It’s littered in claw marks, and whatever load it carried is the remains of broken barrels thrown about. Five bokoblins remain at the camp. Two are sniffing at the carcass of a small animal and the others are sitting on the platform.

Taking them out is a breeze. There isn’t even a strain in his wings when he flaps up, turning back to the road. What worries him, though, is the proximity to Castle Town. A thirty minute ride would all it would take for a civilian to stumble across the camp. How could the Hylian Garrison let something like this exist so close?

Revali returns and just like he expected, the monsters have all been taken care of. He lands just as Urboso pushes the last bokoblin off the road. He glances over them. It’s with a note of surprise that he spots mud, leaves, and even a stray flower covering several of his companions.

The archer snorts at the frown on Urbosa’s face as she blows a red lock out of her eyes. Somehow, the band keeping her hair up had come undone in the few minutes he was gone. He calls attention to himself with a boisterous, “Well, what did I miss? Did those ten bokoblins I left you with double behind my back?”

He catches at least one pair of eyes roll with annoyance.

Daruk turns to him, boulder breaker now on his back. The Goron’s face is twisted with frustration. “Revali! Where did you run off to? We could have used your help during the fight.”

His wings fold sharply behind his back. “Yes, I know. My skill as the Rito's best archer would have done wonders for you, I’m sure. I doubt you’ve even held a bow.”

“No more likely than you hold a boulder breaker,” Daruk mutters angrily, then shakes his head to get back on track. “What I’m sayin’ is you can’t just run off mid battle. We’ve got to fight together. You’ve got to think about the rest of the group.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I took care of the monster camp while you buffoons, what, tripped over each other? I mean, the princess has grass in her hair! Did you try to throw her at the bokoblins as a distraction?”

Without trying, it seems his words reawaken some sort of argument that had just settled. The conflict rises from its grave to torment the sole innocent: Revali.

“Her Highness didn’t mean it, I’m sure,” Mipha begins, scrubbing dirt off her face. “But, she walked behind me mid battle. I didn’t know she was there – she didn’t say anything. So I bumped into her and—”

“It was hardly my fault, Mipha,” The princess says. After his comment about the grass, she began combing her fingers through her hair. “My horse was getting riled up because someone had let a monster get too close. I had to step down or else it was going to buck me off.”

“I got the bokoblin before it go that close,” Link, Link, spoke up. He is staring resolutely at the mane he’s petting, not meeting the princess’ glare. “If you stuck closer to my side, you wouldn’t have bumped into Mipha.” If the goddess's slumbering power suddenly woke, Revali wonders if the knight's head would ignite under the heat of Zelda's glare.

Daruk finds the flower on top of his head and brushes it off. “I still believe we are stronger together. If Revali didn’t run off, I don’t think we would have had any problems.”

“You think so?” Urbosa makes an expression that must be her equivalent of rolling her eyes. “My shield wouldn’t have caught on your weapon if you hadn’t been calling out the whole battle about where Revali was.”

She finishes tying up her hair, then stonily approaches her horse. The action ends the conversation firmly. The splintered feeling of it sits in the air, settling into every one of them. Revali almost wants to start it up again, to try and figure out why him breaking off from the group was a bad idea. If for nothing but a laugh, he wants to know the origin of the dirt stain on the back of the knight’s pants.

But he doesn’t get the chance to ask. The princess is next, settling on her horse with performative nonchalance. That’s the cue for everyone else. When they start moving, this time Revali settles at the back of the group. He fixes his scarf as a slight wind picks up. The day, already stressful with all they have to discuss with the king, turns sour with new tension.

Behind him, in the northwest, is home. Rito Village sits, everlasting as it has always been in his memory. Him and the other Rito Warriors have never quarreled: at least, not like this. With the Champions, it seems like the most unimportant things rub him the wrong way. The other morning, Link had begun rolling up Revali’s bedroll and the archer had snapped at him. Eating, sleeping, and traveling with these people for days had him holding his privacy even tighter. With the Rito Warriors, however, anything short of touching the Great Eagle Bow was fair game. The easiness of which he interacted with his friends back home seemed impossible to replicate.

Revali firms his jaw.

Well, no one said saving the whole kingdom was going to be easy.

Chapter Text

Revali remembers the story of Icarus. As a fledgling, the tale had horrified him.

A Rito boy born with too little feathers on his wings. The appendages were incapable of lifting his weight off the ground. However, his wings were deft. His fingers made beautiful things: wind chimes inlaid with jewels, clay pots fit for a king, woven tapestries with skill almost divine. The Rito loved all of his craft. They cherished their little flightless boy because of the beauty he brought to their village. Whenever he created something new, he unveiled it publicly to the cheers of his people.

But Icarus didn’t care much for the cheers. He could sell all his art and delicate work, but it wouldn’t make him feel any more accomplished. When sat in his roost, fingers working wood or shinning metal, he looked out his window. Every day, the whooping and whistles of his peers as they flew past pained him. Their wings were strong and healthy. He watched as they twirled and span. It looked wonderful: better than anything he could translate into art. His golden feathers were useless: they would never feel the glide of wind under them. It’s a shame, he would sometimes hear the townspeople whisper, that a plumage like that will never feel the sky.

Like legends tend to do, the story of Icarus mentions Koroks. One day, while walking through the woods near the village, a korok spoke to Icarus. It listened to him as he spoke of his wishes to fly. Everday, Icarus wakes from dreams – dreams of cloud fluff tickling his nose and looking down, watching migrating birds far beneath him. He dreams of whipping through the air playing tag with his friends and the golden glow of his feathers under the sun.

The korok had spoken in a deep, wise voice. Flight is not impossible for us creatures with no wings. Ball up your aspirations and let them guide you forward. It is said that then, the korok picked up two leaves from the ground. The leaves were unnaturally long, each said to be longer than Icarus’ wingspan. The korok gripped the leaves in its hands and jumped with impossible height. But as Icarus watched, he saw that the korok didn’t jump, but flew. It flapped its arms, keeping height as it soared over the surrounding trees. It circled, it twirled, it flew with ownership of the air: everything that Icarus desired.

The korok flew for several minutes before landing in front of Icarus. The clever boy had been thinking, thinking on the korok’s words. When the mythical creature had landed, he suddenly had an idea. A way to finally, finally fly.

Let your aspirations guide you: leave your ambition behind, were the korok’s parting words as Icarus thanked it, leaving to return to the village and start working on his plan. Icarus didn’t mold pots, nor did he weave or shine or carve. The boy’s deft fingers instead found a jar of wax stashed in his workshop.

A week later, when Icarus unveiled his next creation, it wasn’t to cheers. The villagers looked on in confusion at the strange contraption on the boy’s wings. His golden feathers had a shiny appearance, waxed slathered thickly over his body but most heavily on the arms. Something artificial blended with the real: some feathers were of a stiff, buckram-like fabric, painted gold to blend in. There were so many artificial feathers that it closed the difference between Icarus’ thin, unhealthy wings with one of a typical boy his age. The wax and feathers, the villagers murmured amongst themselves, may give him the ability to fly.

When Icarus stepped off the village’s landing and flew, it reminded him of his mother.

When an updraft carried him, he felt he understood why the gods had made the sky. He looked around him and saw the world differently. The window he sat by everyday looks small from the outside. The mountains huddling around the village look large with character close-up.

Icarus’ fingers, deft and clever, did this! He gave himself flight! The day felt bright and comfortably warm on his feathers.

With the earth splayed under him, Icarus lifted his gaze up to the only thing left uncharted. The sun.

Revali could never figure out what compelled Icarus to do it. As a fledgling it never made sense. Icarus had everything: he had adoration, he had success, he had skill. Why would someone throw that all away?

Icarus flew up, through clouds. He flew up, until the village was a speck behind him. He had forgotten the korok’s words. His ambition steered him higher, told him that with earth so far below the heavens couldn’t be much farther. He ignored the way his face began to burn and the way the heat became unbearable long ago. It slowly became harder to flap. Something dripped down his forehead, and his wings began to feel wet. Icarus flapped harder, and fake golden feathers flew off in a trail behind him.

Wax wings, melted. Icarus never did get to the heavens in life. The sun wasn’t really his enemy, in the end, but a warning.

The story of Icarus: one that spoke to young Revali. A successful boy, but one who wanted more. As a fledgling, Revali had found Elder and asked was Icarus loved? A silly question, perhaps. Though it was one even more important than the question of why Icarus flew to the sun in the first place. Elder had answered, he knew she did, but all these years later he can’t quite remember what she said.

--/\--

After however many minutes of waiting, the large wooden doors ahead of him open outward in a grand display. The group enters, greeted on both sides by the Hylian royal guard. The guards line both sides of the walkway, faces solemn under their helmets. Revali had meticulously fixed his feathers and scarf before the doors opened, and now presents himself with a confident yet contained expression.

As they walk and walk, Revali begins to wonder how long the hall to the library is. The line goes like this: Princess Zelda next to Link, then Mipha, then Revali, then Urbosa and Daruk last, followed by a squad of knights pulling up the rear. Revali is miphed a bit (he thinks that after Zelda and Link, the Champions were ordered by way of height), but being in the middle is certainly better than being in the back. From here, he can see the tense posture of the appointed knight. The comfort one might feel in a place familiar to them is completely absent on Link's face, who passes every royal guard as though they would pluck him where he stands at one wrong look. They walk on, and Revali thinks he hears the soft snicker of a guard just as Link passes him.

Finally, the little parade ends. They arrive at the library and half the squad stands guard at the door while the other half leads the Champions down the stairs and to where King Rhoam sits, half-moon glasses on his face. He stands and watches them approach with a welcoming smile. Revali bows without thinking, then feels less embarrassed when his companions greet the king in their regional styles.

Revali barely has time to take a breath before the princess steps forward, a determined set to her brow. “Your Majesty. As you know, we encountered a group of fifteen bokoblins less than thirty minutes on horseback from West Castle Town. The Champions swiftly took care of the threat and as soon as we arrived at the castle, we sent three squads for sanitation of the road. This is another reason why I believe the Guardians should not only be activated, but stationed around towns and, most vitally, the heart of our kingdom. Purah can—”

“Zelda, dear,” the king interrupts. It is only when Zelda takes a breath that Revali realizes she hadn’t stopped to breathe during her whole speech. “We can discuss your desire to fiddle with those relics later. For now, I believe we have other things to discuss.”

When King Rhoam sits at the head of the table, Revali follows the silent signal. The princess sits to the king’s right, Urbosa at his left. Link sits next to the princess and Mipha next to Urbosa. That leaves Revali and the Goron sat at the far end. Revali doesn’t mind it. He has a seat at the table. Daruk forgoes the chair and sits contentedly on the ground; eyes level with everyone else despite this.

Before beginning, the king places his hand on his daughter’s shoulder and squeezes: a warm welcome just between the two of them. Revali watches as the shell around the princess breaks away and it’s Zelda who smiles back. The dichotomy between the two personalities is like whiplash. Besides the times she gets frustrated with Link, Revali didn’t think the princess could look anything but calm and regal.

The moment ends in a blink.

King Rhoam straightens in his chair. “Now, let us get started. Before I begin, I would like to thank all of you for taking a break from your duties to meet at the Kopeeki Excavation Site. I understand that my request has extended past the period of time I originally asked you, and for that I ask for your forgiveness.”

“It’s no crack in my mountain, your Majesty,” Daruk speaks up, voice firm. “If you ask me, bein’ here right now is my duty. Champion business is just as important as chief business.”

“These few weeks are no time at all for a Zora,” Mipha adds softly. “My people are ready to wait – as long as it takes for this quest to reach its end.”

Revali nods. It’s good to hear that his feelings are shared amongst his companions.

“That is good to hear. That was my first concern. My second,” King Rhoan shuffles a few papers, picking up an open letter. “Is this message I got from Purah of the Sheikah. She is brilliant. Far more than me, and I can’t understand half of the jargon she uses here. I’d prefer if you explain it yourselves, if you don’t mind.”

Revali feels his feathers rise in a shiver. He hopes the king doesn’t mean what he thinks he means.

“Pardon me, your Majesty, may you specify what you are referring to?”

“Hmm, yes, I believe Ms. Purah referred to is as the ‘Connection’?”

There must be a draft in here, Revali convinces himself as another phantom shiver hits him. The rest of the Champions do a great job of explaining what had happened, the archer chiming in once or twice but otherwise staying out. When the princess describes the prophecy they saw, King Rhoam shifts a few more papers and pulls up a scroll. He said Purah sent it with her letter. It depicts an extremely detailed copy of the prophecy, down to the last feather. The princess continues to explain what she saw, and what happened after. The king’s eyes widened further and further in disbelief as the conversation continues.

They conclude after the Ancient Doors had closed. Hearing it all be retold reminds Revali just how bizarre the whole thing is. The thing sounds like a dream, or a legend. Nothing real.

The table sits in silence for a minute. King Rhoam takes his chin in his hand, processing all of what they told him. He passes a few of the papers between his hands, marking a note here or there. Finally, he plucks his glasses from his face and sets them aside.

“Thank you all. It’s my understanding that none of you have Connected since the Kopeeki Excavation Site?”

“Excluding one or two accidents,” Urbosa says.

“I see…” King Rhoam, if Revali dares to say, looks lost for a second. Then his face hardens, crown held high on his head. “This is highly unusual. I will need to discuss this development with my advisors. I will relay your account to them, and then decide how we shall move forward.”

--/\--

My lodgings at Hyrule Castle are comfortable. There is no hammock, but the bed is plush enough that I don’t care. I was happily surprised to find string wax provided in my room, as well as my belongings already there when I arrived. I was less happy to discover that that foul horse stink has followed me. Hopefully with a wash or two, the smell will fade from my bags.

The king still hasn’t told us of his decision. I thought it would only take an hour or two, to be honest. The decision is clear: send everyone back to their regions and focus on better building our bond with our Divine Beasts. I’ve spoken with Medoh periodically over the trip to the castle, promising her that I won’t be gone long. She always insists that I will, and then we get irritated with each other and stop communicating. I can never stay mad at her, though. Though I have said it many times, diary, Medoh is like the other half of my soul. And she frequently consoles me that the village is doing fine, so she doesn’t stay mad at me long either.

I don’t care much what Medoh’s “intuition” tells her, I am sure that the king will send us off. We all know that the Princess’ pilgrimage is quickly approaching, if it shouldn't have started already. When her and that stinky, FOUL, TWIG-WRISTED, FEATHERED-BRAINED DUCK of a boy finally set off and disappear into the distance and out of my sight, that will be a marvelous day indeed. And yes diary, I am talking about Link. I don’t care much to fill out another dozen pages about the boy tonight. Perhaps tomorrow he will give me another one of his uncaring, impassive stares and I’ll have more to tell you. I hope to one day write that he looked at me with everything that one would to an equal, but until that day comes…

…It seems I am being summoned to dinner.

--/\--

 Revali doesn’t dream. He doesn’t.

He doesn’t dream, so he can’t explain how he is falling. It is dark, like it always is when he sleeps. Dark; all except for a searing blue light below him. The light is near blinding in the otherwise black world around him. He is falling, down down down, closer to the light every second. He can’t explain the pain he feels, either: that singed smell that couldn’t be emitting from him, and there is no reasoning for the burning he feels on the upper left side of his body. Panic overrides all feeling. Revali is falling. He’s falling! FALLING! Never could he have guessed that his greatest strength could be taken from him. His feathers are like lead. His wings feel like sacks of coal. He’s falling, down, down into that horrible blue light.

Revali remembers the story of Icarus: the hubris of a young, skillful boy being his death.

His eyes burn as he looks at the blue.

This, Revali thinks to himself, must be my sun.

If it is, he can’t help but wonder why he is falling towards it.

--/\--

It turns out, it’s much easier to get bored when stuck looking at the same four walls than when traveling on the road. Just one day at the castle is enough for Revali to get restless.

Night two, Revali creeps out of his room with his bow on his back. The bright blue ribbon tied to the end tickles his neck and he brushes it away. He inches the door closed and stands in the silent hallway. Revali listens. The halls are lit with candlelight, bathing the stone in warm tones. The archer looks left and right, then sets off at a hurried pace down the hall.

It is true that Revali was feeling restless – it has been almost a week since he has trained in earnest – but as he settled in bed tonight, he felt himself caught on that weird… occurrence during the night before. It WASN’T a dream!

…. COUGH…He means, it was highly improbable that it was some sort of frivolous dream. Revali doesn’t have those. But whatever it was, it stuck with him in his waking hours. He felt subdued all day – trapped in such a way that could not let stand. He knows how to break out of this rut: he has done so time and time before.

Revali walks down the passages to his destination. The room he enters is tall. There is a staircase and small platform for a second story, but the majority of the room is open until the ceiling many feet above his head. Only one wall of candles is lit. Through the shadows, Revali can see several weapons racks, crates, and stray amor pieces. The Hylian guard trains here during the day. A few scuffs and scratches mar the otherwise shiny floor. Revali takes a long look at the room. Yes, this will do nicely.

The archer brushes his fingers through the fletching of several arrows, as is a habit of his. A noise on his left startles him. Two arrows fall to the floor. The light is dim, but as he squints he sees familiar red scales.

“Oh, it’s just you.” The Zora princess steps forward from where she was hidden behind a rack of short swords. She enters the light and Revali can spot the embarrassed look on her face. He notes curiously that Mipha has her spear with her.

“Charming. ‘Just me.’” Revali rolls his eyes, picking up his fallen arrows. “Were you expecting someone else?”

“No. I wasn’t expecting anybody, actually.” Mipha comes to stand in the light instead of making him talk to shadows. “It is…strange to say, but something in me wanted to train right now. I know it’s late, but I just kept twisting and turning in bed. I couldn’t take it any longer, so I just…” She gestures to the room around them, flicking her yellow eyes to the floor.

Revali blinks for a few seconds. None of that was anything he was expecting. Though he supposes that there could be only one reason for someone to be in a training room. He just…didn’t expect her to have to same problems as him.

“…I was just about to do the same. I don’t know the standard archery targets Hylians use, but I suppose some practice is better than none.” He’s not sure what Mipha was expecting, but she looks up at him in surprise. “But of course, you arrived here first. If you don’t mind sharing the room with me, then I would be happy to keep you company.”

“Oh! Of course I don’t mind, Revali!”

Her tone of voice startles him for a moment. She had never addressed him like that before. Revali rewinds the conversation in his mind, then a fierce scowl settles on his face. He did say he had felt off all day, hadn’t he? Right? That’s his defense! He didn’t know why he hadn’t spoken so sickeningly kind to her just now. Where is his snark? His bitter exterior? The smile she is sending him is sickening! (It reminds him of making Urbosa laugh. It reminds him that he doesn’t need to be independent… Or maybe it reminds him of why he needs to be.)

The archer suddenly crosses his arms, tipping his beak pointedly to the side. “Tchh. Whatever. No need to sound so eager about it.”

Then the night gets even stranger.

There’s a wooden creak behind Revali. He turns to meet the wide eyes of Urbosa. She freezes in the threshold for a moment. A large body behind her pushes her through, and Daruk ducks his way through the doorframe. The four Champions stare at each other, divided by only a few feet of ground. In the middle of the night. In the same room out of the hundreds in Hyrule castle. At the same time.

Now what, Revali grouches to himself, are the chances of that.

“Hey! Didn’t know the two of ya’ were planin’ on trainin’ tonight, too!” Daruk exclaims, familiar weight rumbling the ground.

“Whatever.”

“We didn’t plan it, actually. We just so happened to be here at the same time,” Mipha says, stepping forward so that she can converse more comfortably with the other two. Out of pressure of the social situation, Revali has to step forward too.

“That’s what happened with me an’ Urbosa, too. We met in a hall not too far from here. Well, it was more like we bumped into each other, haha!”

Urbosa looks amused at the situation. “What a coincidence.”

Her scimitar and shield glow in the light. It…seems like they all really did want to train, like him. Not even the warriors back at the village cared to train after hours, and definitely not at night.

The Gerudo woman then crosses her arms, face taking a more serious expression. “I suppose this situation can turn out to be a blessing. I have been thinking this over for a while now, and me and Daruk spoke a little about it on the walk here. The fight we had yesterday morning just before we got to the castle…it was unacceptable. Not just against the monsters, but with each other as well.”

Urbosa voiced what they all were thinking: yesterday’s fight was not a victory. 

“I told Urbosa I agreed with her completely.” Daruk says, scratching his beard. “I was distracted that whole fight, an’ even though everythin’ turned out fine then, it might not next time.”

Mipha had been nodding along the whole time. “Yes, I agree with you. Admittedly, I had been thinking about it a bit as well. I couldn’t help but feel like-like I was out of step during the whole battle. As though our fighting rhythms didn’t align.”

“Nothing is more vital than a finely tuned team. Especially with a duty as paramount as ours.” Revali agrees. He lifts a wing to settle under his beak. “We cannot suffer a blunder like yesterday when the time comes.”

“The best way to circumvent that would be to start to drill together. My warriors aren’t even allowed past the smallest dunes if they don’t have their drills down to a tee.”

“I saw a few dummies stashed against the wall that we could use,” Mipha adds helpfully. “It may not be the perfect replication of a real battle, but I believe it is a good start.”

They four continue talking, spinning a plan that captivates the strategic half of his mind. This is something tangible, not some foggy statement of ‘stop the Calamity’. This is just one step, sure, and maybe not all that big of one.

But.

But, but, but. A part deep inside of Revali – the one that still wants to chase rainbows, that still lets himself curl up under Elder’s wing, that one that wants to laugh unburdened like the teenager he is – grows hopeful. It is a dangerous thing, to house a weakness so centered in his soul, but he is weak to stop it. Just like he is weak to stop the smile on his face when he arms his bow.

Mipha and Daruk are doing some simple exercises, getting ready to start the first set of drills they have planned for the night. Revali watches Urbosa as she takes a torch and goes around the room, lighting the rest of the candles. The shadows are chased away, and Urbosa then starts her own set of stretches without a glance at him or ask of thanks.

Revali remembers the story of Icarus. He remembers what he had asked Elder. Was Icarus loved?

The room is filled with soft chatter. Daruk is doing a belly laugh at something Revali had said. The girls roll their eyes, but he catches their smiles. Not everything has been fixed. No apologies have been verbalized, but the night no longer feels as lonely.

Revali raises his arms over his head in a stretch.

Was Icarus loved?

And he wonders.

Chapter Text

At first, Revali had considered the night a success.

Speaking with masters of different fighting styles had been fascinating. They recommended formations he had never even thought of and came up with attacks that made use of all their skills. Urbosa prefers to lead the charge, while Mipha prefers to take a more defensive position in a fight. Daruk, of course, gets a kick out of taking out the heavy-hitting enemies and has no problem being the tank. Revali mentions his ability to thin large groups from the air, but also being able to take close shots to take the heat off his comrades. When they moved on to what they expected from one another in battle, Daruk once again brought up the fight.

(Any potential offense Revali could have felt was wiped away by the tone of voice the Goron used to explain his perspective. It didn’t feel like he was blaming Revali, but neither was he cowering out of forgiveness for having an opinion. Daruk explained that in a fight, he feels it is important that they all stay together. Yes, there were not many bokoblins, but it is better to stick close in case something unexpected happened. The monster camp wasn’t going anywhere. They could have taken care of it afterwards.

Revali concedes his point. He explains that he figured he could have taken the camp out easily, and so that’s what he did. Though, he supposed that making sure that the incompetent fools he shares a title with could finish off a few monsters take precedence. He told Daruk that he would remember his request. The archer said that is he does fly off again, however, to trust that he is doing so for a reason.)

His favorite part of the night was when he was able to show off his marksmanship. In a short minute’s display, he ran through the list of his impressive skills. The small, enclosed room was different than the environment he was used to, but he didn’t let it hinder him. He finished with a dramatic bow, and though it wasn’t the applause he wanted, the comments and questions he received pleasantly surprised him.

Everyone got a chance to do a quick run through their skills. Daruk, who had gone next, knocked one of the dummies into the wall so hard that its limbs flew apart, cracking the stone. They agreed not to use the dummies for the rest of the night. Revali had felt his eyebrows raise the longer the Goron drilled, and by the end he felt relieved that the man was on their side. Some of the swings that Daruk did would have sent any creature flying in a real fight. Mipha was next. Her grace and fluidity were mesmerizing to watch, resembling the water she calls her second home. If she fights like this on land, Revali can only imagine the damage she can do once she is in her element. Though none of her blows carry much strength behind them, she is precise and fast. She finishes with a deep bow, and when she raises her head there isn’t a sliver of strain in her expression. Urbosa steps up last. The woman doesn’t waste a second – she immediately spins into a dangerous series of strikes. Her eyes express her single-minded focus, if one couldn’t tell via her fighting. Revali can tell that she is a heavy hitter like Daruk. Her power and skill give her leverage against enemies that may be bigger than her. Under her relentless blows, Revali believes anyone would fall.

After that, the four had parted ways. When Revali laid in his bed, he really had considered the night a success. He believed that after that, things could only go up.

Less than twelve hours later, Revali listens to the harsh thunkthunkthunk of three arrows hitting targets. He turns, notching his arrows with excessive force and hitting three more bullseyes. Trying to release your anger through shooting is very difficult when the causes of your frustration are just 20 feet away, argument still going strong. The targets are littered with evidence of his anger: arrows shredding through each other on the centermost circle, piles of splintered wood growing by the minute. He had to separate himself from their incessant bickering. Attempting to train independently, however, has shown to make no improvement on his mood.

The midday sun is covered by a passing cloud. Today, the four of them had figured to try their first training session together out in the courtyard. The first thing Revali had noticed when they stepped out were the knights on the surrounding walls. He felt their gazes and smirked: how lucky. Those knights are in for an impressive show of what the Champions can do!

It had started off well enough. But things had eventually gone wrong. It started with a misstep here, a gap in formation there. Revali had been grounded longer than he liked to be in a fight, but he couldn’t stay in the air long before he felt pressured to land again. It came crashing down when Mipha, though graceful during her presentation the night before, had tripped. Revali turned, and she caught herself on his wing. That cursed Connection happened. He felt her annoyance, her frustration. For some reason, she was thinking about that featherbrained knight. Revali ripped himself away before it could continue for a moment more and put a leap of distance between them.

The whole exercise came to an immediate halt. Urbosa, of course, immediately had something to complain about. Revali had left as the three circled up, voices beginning to raise. The archery was on the other side of the same courtyard, so Revali had picked up his bow and began shooting.

Whatever. Whatever.

Revali is just waiting for the moment the king summons him to inform him he is free to go. His bags are in his room already packed, waiting for the word that he can leave.

The knights on the walls nearby watch him wearily as he drills six more arrows into the targets. He sniffs. To the one guard who has no shame in staring outright he sends a scathing glare. Revali reaches to his quiver to prepare three more arrows.

“Oh, Link! I am glad to see you made it.”

Revali doesn’t know how he went and did it, but he must have gotten himself cursed. The is the Champion’s only explanation when he turns towards the direction of the voice. The princess is dressed rickly, adorned with her crown and royal attire. Following her is her knight, now changed into his armor.

I don’t believe it. Now, of all times--!

The two groups meet and Revali, not willing to be left out, trudges forward to join them.

“I figured we should practice fighting alongside Link as well. His role may be different than ours, but I am sure it will benefit all of us to learn to fight together.” Mipha has reigned in her previous annoyance with impressive skill. He almost can’t tell she had been yelling just a minute prior. How do people do that? Just shove all of their feelings below the surface and not look like their drowning in the need to let it out?

For Revali, his feelings always pour out like flurries in a snowstorm. At least, his anger does.

Daruk lets out a considering hum. “Smart thinkin’, Mipha. If we’re gonna start workin’ with each other and not against, we all have to be in on the training.”

Urbosa, face still stern from the unsuccessful training exercise and ensuing argument, agrees. “Well Link, I can’t say your attendance won’t be welcome. As we were doing certain formations, I kept thinking if we just had one more person there…I suppose we’ll see how the exercise goes the second time when we have you there.”

“The four of you have fun with that.” Petulance lines the whole of his being when Revali rolls his eyes. “I am done with this nonsense for the day – especially means if I have to deal with him in a fight. Who knows what level of grace he has with that thing.”

Link stares at him, visibly undisturbed by the words. The two blond strands framing his face blow slightly in the wind. His apparent lack of attention for what Revali has to say fortifies the archer’s decision.

“Tchh. Whatver.”

Revali flares his wings out and launches into the sky, his gale whipping at the clothes of his companions in the courtyard. Far below, he watches Link steady the princess, who was focused on the Sheikah Slate in her hand and was unprepared for the sudden wind. She pushes herself away sharply and straightens up on her own.

He flies up, up – up to the twisting spires of the castle until the whole landscape is spread out below him.

Stupid, stupid boy! Coming in and taking my place. He may have been invited, but surely he could tell he was not welcome.

No matter what Revali tells himself, he can’t hide the truth from himself: he wishes for Link, above all else, to treat him like an equal. Even in trying to bait him to be his rival is futile. In the knight eyes, Revali imagines himself to be no more than a footnote: a side character that hardly deserves their name remembered.

Revali may just be a mortal being, but he hopes for his name to be known even a hundred years in the future.

--/\--

It is quiet, now. Silent in the beautiful, ornate hall he now sits. And Revali decides to think.

That morning at dawn, he received a letter from Elder saying all is well. The warriors have been managing without him and the new batch of chicks are just beginning to hatch. She says she hopes he is doing well and tells him to write back soon. The king informs them of his decision later this afternoon. Revali will depart immediately and, if he flies overnight, can make it back home by morning and surprise Elder in person.

After reading her letter, Revali’s heart had weighed a feather. It made it easier to face the day’s activities in a new light.

The archer’s feathers are shiny, perfectly preened and orderly. The Champions scarf sits important on his breast: the focal point of his attire. No weapons aren’t allowed in the cathedral, so he doesn’t wear his usual warrior’s kit. Instead, he is dressed in Rito formal wear. Though he hasn’t ever been one to dress up much, he thinks he cleaned up pretty well today. The trio of braids he usually wears has been condensed into one, tied at the end in the usual green band. His usual green anklets have an additional thin, gold bangle added, creating a slight clinking noise when he walks. He wears a white top with occasional threads of bright color woven through, creating vertical lines.

Revali knows that if he tilts his head up a few degrees he will see the princess kneeling in prayer. The stained glass casts shapes and distortions on the polished stone floors, ever so slightly brightening the solemn atmosphere of the cathedral.

His fellow Champions line the bench on either side. On another bench across the aisle sits King Rhoam and other royal attendants, all with their head similarly bowed in prayer. The rows and rows behind them are filled with the people of castle town – or at least whoever was able to make it through the doors before the building was full. Even those in the back can clearly see the figure of the goddess Hylia statue at the front of the room. Her figure stands, backlit by wondrous colors and with Princess Zelda kneeling reverent at her front.

The ceremony is one done by princesses before they make their pilgrimage. Apparently, her mother had done it, and her grandmother before that. Zelda does it now, too. The ceremony began with the priest speaking of the kingdom’s young princess and her trials ahead. He spoke of her gift, and the as-of-yet unawakened power within her. He said that, as the princess prays for the next thirty minutes to Hylia to access this great power, the rest of the Cathedral will pray for her success on her pilgrimage.

Revali has never prayed before. No one ever taught him, and he doesn’t care to try it now. Wherever Hylia is she can stay there and comfortably out of his life.

Despite this, the archer welcomes the act of silent prayers happening around him: the resolute look on the Hylians faces and the occasional emotional sniff as some work to keep their promise of silence. He knows they all need the sealing power of Hylia to manifest in Zelda, and is moved that everyone is doing what they can to help their princess unlock it.

He sits in the silence of the hall. Hardly any noise comes from the walls outside. The peace makes it easier to think. He sees the princess. She is dressed in all white: hair braided in stunning detail and woven with a white-blue flower. He sees that her form is perfect. Her face is pressed nearly to the floor, and he sees her mouthing her prayers there, eyes closed.

Revali thinks that despite that dozens of people crowding the hall, the princess may be the only one praying that her devotion is enough.

--/\--

“Are you ready, Rito Champion?”

Revali thinks he has a great misunderstanding of what is going on.

“I…don’t see how my participation is necessary for this.”

“We must test the Connection with all of the Champions. This was just explained. Are you ready?”

Revali will never understand how he lands himself in situations like this. It’s unfortunate that this time, he’s at the front of the line as well. With the whole room waiting on him, including the King and all of his advisors, Revali knows he’s not weaseling himself out of this one.

He nods to the Sheikah Scientist and she passes him the piece of paper. Revali doesn’t want to be there when Purah finds out that she wasn’t the first person to be the one to experiment on the Connection.

The archer reads the writing, raises an incredulous eyebrow, and passes the paper back to the scientist, who quickly scurries back to stand with her colleagues. If Revali didn’t have doubts on the success of this before, he sure does now. The amount of writing on the paper was much more than the one or two-word phrase he was expecting. He looks to the other side of the room again, where the king and his advisors sit amongst heavy candle smoke: peering at him, if not like wolves to prey, than as an apathetic bystander to a wagon crash. Revali supposes that with their many hours sat in this very room, debating over the future of the Champions, they have long grown weary.

Taking a second to brace himself, Revali reaches his wing out. When he connects with Daruk, a flood of feelings hits him. Revali thinks on his task and his beak twists as though he just ate something bitter. This Connection business is bothersome. If this experiment is successful, who knows how many times he will be subjected to it. He considers ruining the experiment. Just for a moment. If he just switches out a few words, then maybe –

TELL ME THE TRUTH, REVALI.

The words suddenly morph from the confusing blur of Daruk’s thoughts. Revali jumps at the scolding tone, feathers raising. The following second, he senses something amused rise in the Goron. Deciding to just get it over with, Revali thinks very hard at the other, reciting the words he read on the paper. Once rushing through the quote, he removes his wing with a jerk. The Connection slams closed, in a sense, and Revali’s mind becomes blessedly clear.

The Rito crosses his wings sharply, facing away from the direction of his fellow Champions. Though he doesn’t see it, he assumes that the message travels down the line. A minute passes in total silence. Unbreaking.

It is broken by the quiet steps of the knight. He steps forward from his place at the end of the line. He stands at upmost attention, hands folded behind his back. Link speaks quietly, but the whole room can hear him. It’s the same message Revali read, word-for-word, repeated despite no verbal words being spoken.  Revali doesn’t know exactly where the words are from, nor their meaning, but he knows they are important in Hylian scripture.

“With the urn hefted over my shoulder, I carry a heavy burden. Yet I climb the mountain.”

The boy’s quiet voice hardly has a chance to finish before the table of advisors erupt into disbelieving whispers. The whispers quickly grow into arguing, and some even turn into shouts of accusations, saying that the Champions had to have somehow cheated, despite the fact that there had never been a game to begin with. It appears that with proof revealed before them that the Connection is real, they are resorting to denial. Revali doesn’t know the specifics of what caused the royal court to squabble for several days over the fate of the Champions, but it seems like the king is done with talk.

“Enough!” King Rhoam slams a gavel, bathing the room in silence once more. “Now that the truth is undeniable, we all know what must happen now.”

“You mean to send us with Princess Zelda on her pilgrimage. Right, your Majesty?” Urbosa voices what all the Champions are thinking. Revali glances down the line and the woman stands tall. It is clear that she is not asking a question, but instead waiting for confirmation of what she is already thinking.

“Yes. In light of what this Connection can do, there is no denying the importance of this power in the fight against Calamity Ganon.” King Rhoam’s hands fold under his chin. His gaze travels down the line, conveying his sincerity to every single Champion. “It is the duty of every single person in the kingdom to do their part in preparing for the approaching Calamity. For my advisors, that is doing what is best for their people. For the Sheikah, that is understanding the relics buried beneath our feet and wielding it as both protectors and attackers. For my knights, that is to defend this kingdom with their lives.

“…The six of you have been tasked with things that we do not yet understand. My daughter…Zelda… you have not yet awakened the power that will seal Ganon away. It is vital that your pilgrimage finally begins. But if this “Connection” has hope to bring you all that one step closer to victory…” The king trails off. Revali can tell the man’s next lines will get to the heart of the matter, and he dreads the words that he knows are coming. “I hearby declare the four of you to join Zelda and Link on her pilgrimage over the next few months until her seventeenth birthday. You are to protect her, and to protect each other, but most importantly you are to strengthen this Connection. You are to test its limitations, exploit it benefits, and catalogue anything that can be used to your advantage against our greatest foe.”

A man near the end of the table suddenly speaks up. Revali recognizes him as the priest from the Cathedral earlier in the day.

“I must object, your Majesty. This is highly irregular for a royal pilgrimage. The knight is an exception, yes, but outsiders as well?”

“This is final.” The king’s tone proves his words. The room once again falls silent after his declaration, and it is now that it sinks in just what Revali is in for. With the candle smoke obscuring the room around him, he could almost tell himself that this isn’t real. That this world he finds himself in is nothing more than his imagination.

But Revali doesn’t dream. And if the king tells the Rito Champion to pack his things and prepare to travel at dawn tomorrow, then that is what he must do.

--/\--

Wheat fields burn so completely. Where once the grain grew from the landscape, monopolizing much of Central Hyrule, the ground instead sheds tears of ash – ground scarred from some sort of beam. It reeks of smoke. Burnt things litter the fields. If one would go walking through, the sound would mimic the crunching of leaves during the autumn season. Panning towards deep gouges in the earth where something large must of crashed through, it is possible to see the remains of where a wagon was pulled off the road.

Though the picture around him is horrific, nothing is as bad as looking up. Revali is sleeping, again. He knows he is. Though something fills him with the need to run as he traces the lines of Hyrule castle, bathed in the red light of a large, swirling mass as it circles in the sky. It isn’t doing anything, really, and as he looks around he sees that nothing is happening. Standing in the ruined field, there is hardly a whisper of wind to carry to ash under his talons. There is no sound – no birdsong. No horses putter about in a nearby stable and there isn’t a single Hylian to been seen in the plains around him. It is still. It is silent.

He doesn’t know what he is expecting when he looks to the sky. In this weird space where he should be sleeping, he is mostly confused at what is going on. So when he looks up he isn’t exactly sure why he does it, and when he awakens however many hours later, he is still unable to decipher what it means. But when Revali looked up, he didn’t see the sights of a single Divine Beast set on the castle. Revali doesn’t understand what it means, but for some reason, that fact feels like defeat.