Chapter Text
If somebody asked Wind what he thought of Skyloft, he would probably talk their ear off for a solid half hour, then come back ten minutes later for more.
First off, it was in the sky? Just floating there? It was like something straight out of his Grandma’s stories, only bigger and tangible and wow.
And very high up.
The thin air had admittedly been a bit of a stumbling point – for everyone except Sky, that is, who had never seemed more revitalised than when he stepped out of the portal and got his first lungful of, quote, ‘proper air’.
But it was a quick fix, with the sky knight sharing his spare bottle of air potion with only a smidge of restrained vindication. One quick jaunt to the Bazaar later, and now they all had their own little vial of perpetually bubbling miracle juice, the instructions to take more if they got light-headed, and a newfound respect for Sky’s ability to not rub the turned tables in their collective faces. So it was probably fine.
The point remained, they were floating. In the sky.
Awesome.
Secondly, even if they weren’t on a floating island (in the sky!), there was so much to see.
Every building was a cluster of vibrant paint and coloured glass – it was like no matter where you looked was a work of art. It almost didn’t feel real, to have a place be so relentlessly pretty.
Not to mention the view.
Don’t get him wrong, Wind was of the firm belief that nothing beat the sunrise over a calm sea, dusky rose and molten gold stretching past the endless horizon. But he had to admit, the way the sunlight played over the clouds from up here came pretty close.
Not that he could see it at the moment, but still!
It’d been late afternoon when they first emerged through the most recent portal – the rest of the day promptly swept up in the bustle of settling in, eating something substantial, meeting various people-
(Wind was going to find out what about Headmaster Gaepora kept making Time’s face go on such subtle but incredible journeys if it killed him.)
-And getting a quick tour of the Knight Academy, the only place large enough to house them all on such short notice.
Although they did end up having to commandeer a classroom. And spend a significant amount of time hauling furniture around to clear space; something that would’ve gone much quicker if someone (Legend) hadn’t splintered a chair leg and gotten all use of strength-enhancing items banned.
Wind hefting a massive table clean above his head and nearly taking out a window had nothing to do with it, and he was standing by that no matter how much the veteran insisted otherwise.
By the time everything had calmed down a bit, it was well into the evening, and everyone had agreed (or been firmly told) it was best to stick close until they could – as Sky delicately put it – see. The edges of the island.
Besides, it wasn’t like they were desperate for entertainment, especially after Sky’s Zelda had burst in and practically tackled him midway through rearranging tables.
(“You’re back!”
Sky stumbled for a moment before he regained his balance, his whole being brightening in a moment at the sound of the girl’s voice. He whipped around, barely taking the time to confirm who it was before he was hugging her back with a disbelieving laugh.
“How did you get here so fast?! Your father only just sent the message, I thought we’d have to wait until tomorrow!”
She laughed as well, plainly giddy with joy. “Like I’d let a little thing like the dark stop me! I’m not gonna wait and let Groose get to you first – what’s the point of being in a relationship if I don’t get dibs?”
Sky pulled back slightly to look at her face, grinning.
“Dibs?”
Zelda gave a blinding smile, then leaned in to press a kiss, soft and sweet, against his lips.
“Dibs,” she declared as she pulled away, resting her head on his shoulder again.
“Missed you, sleepyhead.”
Sky let out a happy hum, burying his face in her hair as they lightly swayed back and forth – ignoring the light-hearted wolf-whistles and teasing calls from the others.
“Missed you more.”)
Sky’s Zelda was, among many other things, a complete and utter delight, and Wind already adored her.
Even if she and Sky were borderline disgusting around each other.
They were probably off being gag-worthy somewhere together now, joined at the hip and tittering like gulls. Good for them, but – and Wind meant this with all the love and affection in the world – eugh.
That was their problem, though. Wind had much more important things to be worrying about.
It was a new day, meaning that they were all free to take advantage of the unexpected rest day and explore Skyloft at their own leisure. For Wind, that meant poking around the Bazaar properly, the giant tent brimming with unique sights and smells to capture his interest.
And it had, for the better part of an hour; so far he’d dropped by all the market stalls, stuck his head into every tucked away corner, gotten his fortune read by a man with frankly enormous and stunningly blue eyes, watched Four make it his life goal to become best friends with the resident blacksmith, found a dropped rupee, and considered the logistics of... ‘acquiring’ one of the stained glass lamps strung from the ceiling.
(The risk outweighed the reward, unfortunately, especially for something that he’d inevitably be forced to return before the day was out.)
So now he was taking a break, sitting at one of the tables off to the side and kicking his legs idly – attention split between his half-finished mug of soup and people-watching.
Well. Person-watching.
Person-watching Warriors, to be specific.
The captain was at that one booth with the kinda crabby lady, who’d barely even acknowledged Wind when he’d approached himself. This in itself wouldn’t be that interesting, were it not for the fact that Wars was, well. Wars.
Even Legend had to admit the man was weirdly handsome.
And annoyingly charismatic.
And – most importantly – able and willing to hold lengthy conversations on the most boring topics known to man.
Wind couldn’t for the life of him work out why, but if Warriors wanted to spend his life chatting about stuff like banisters or whatever, all the more power to him, he guessed. Even if he was pretty sure that counted as the captain using his ‘look at me I’m so nice and charming’ smile for evil.
Either way, in the ten or so minutes since Wind had started watching, the girl had gone from slumped and thoroughly disinterested, barely grunting out snipped off answers, to… well.
She was definitely looking at him now, to say the least.
Wind blamed the laugh. It was nothing like Warriors’ actual laugh, a loud and barking thing, but even his much more restrained ‘polite conversation’ chuckle tended to draw attention – albeit in a much different way.
It had successfully gotten the woman to look up, at the very least; which had then led to her properly contributing to the conversation and answering questions, then smiling at him, then laughing – on and on until she was practically fluttering her lashes, chin propped up in her hands as she leaned across the counter with a flush that was noticeable from even where Wind was sitting.
The difference was fascinating, to be honest.
They were all aware of what Twilight had dubbed the ‘Warriors Effect’ – coined due to the captain’s ongoing habit of leaving a trail of dazzled strangers in his wake with seemingly zero effort or intent, just by pure virtue of being himself.
But never before had someone fallen victim so quickly, or thoroughly. It was incredible.
And the best part was the fact that, for all intents and purposes, Warriors appeared to be thoroughly oblivious.
How, Wind had no clue.
The conversation had gone on for long enough that it had firmly surpassed the ‘polite inquiry about someone’s work’ threshold - meaning that they were now squarely within ‘genuinely interested in the topic’ territory, which.
Okay, Wind hated to acknowledge it, but he knew what Warriors flirting looked like. The man did it gleefully and without shame whenever he pleased, delighting in the good-natured fun of laying on the honeyed charm.
This was not that.
This was the captain, for reasons known only to himself, legitimately happy to discuss the intricacies of an item check. At length.
Which, side note, come on, Wars, really?
The point was, the goo-goo eyes his brother was currently being subjected to wasn’t intentional on his part, and was in fact just a rampant case of the Warriors Effect in full force.
A tragedy, really. Yet another innocent soul lost to whatever it was about the captain that made people lose all better judgement.
(Twilight generally just grimaced, reluctantly muttering something about how, around other people, Warriors tended to be polite, kind, and – said with a face like he’d sucked a lemon – unfortunately pretty about it.
Legend liked to call it an ‘epidemic of poor taste’.
Hyrule called it ‘fucking hilarious’, an opinion Wind was generally inclined to agree with.)
The woman tittered out a laugh in response to something Warriors said, just audible over the hubbub of the markets and pitched in that special way that made it extremely obvious just how flustered she was feeling. A hand even came up to twirl one blonde-tipped pigtail, just to tip it all off.
Now, Warriors wasn’t stupid. Far from it, in fact.
But – and this was a very important but – he could be painfully single-minded.
It was great for when he needed to hunker down and think of five different strategies and twelve more backup plans that could be adjusted to any circumstance on the fly; less great, however, when it meant he would be so intently focused on sketching diagrams into the dirt that he wouldn’t notice the various scraps of fabric being tied to his scarf – right up until he would finally stand and inevitably trip on the comically long monstrosity.
Four times. And at least two of them he genuinely didn’t notice, rather than just indulging their fun.
And this? This was rapidly shaping up to be a ‘ten-metre-long-plus-at-least-one-branch-and-potentially-a-squirrel scarf’ type of situation.
Which meant that only one question remained.
Wind took a long sip of his soup, eyes never once leaving the shipwreck in action.
Was Warriors aware of how his conversation partner was halfway to proposing on the spot, and just ignoring it in the hopes that it would resolve itself?
Or – and Wind hoped so bad it was this one, it’d be so funny – was he somehow, against all odds, completely and utterly oblivious to the single least subtle attempt at flirting ever conceived?
The girl’s face looked like it was going to combust at this rate, the poor thing. Wind was also going to die of second-hand embarrassment, but that was neither here nor there.
How was Four doing, actually, it had to be less painful than this. The sailor leaned back in his chair to catch a glimpse of the blacksmith’s stall, where the other boy had been holed up for a good hour now.
Yep, still there, practically bouncing on his heels as the resident smithy just as enthusiastically explained something to do with a wrench. At least he seemed to be having fun.
Wind turned his attention back to the item check just in time to catch the clerk drape herself across the counter even further. Ugh, blegh-
Warriors took a small step back, shoulders going up for a split second before he was once more the picture of casual friendliness.
Gotcha.
Well, that settled that. The captain was a masochist, both for initiating the conversation and for sticking around for long enough for this whole mess to devolve the way it had.
He briefly considered bailing Warriors out, but, well. Clearly the man was trying to get something out of it. What, exactly, Wind had no clue, but surely there had to be some motivator for him to subject himself to this even somewhat willingly.
He’d better come out of that conversation with the meaning of life or some bullshit, because Wind couldn’t think of any other conceivable scenario where getting drooled over would be worth it.
Either way, the captain had done this to himself. And could easily leave at any moment! Literally nothing was keeping him there, not even that ‘societal convention’ and ‘basic etiquette’ he liked to tote around so much!
You don’t hang a hammock you wouldn’t be willing to sleep in, as Gonzo would say.
If you can talk yourself into a corner, you can damn well talk yourself back out of it, according to Senza.
Play stupid games, win stupider prizes, in the wise words of Tetra.
Warriors could handle himself. And Wind didn’t feel sorry for him in the slightest, so there.
He downed the rest of his soup and hopped down from his stool, leaving his mug on the table along with a few rupees. Right, that was his entertainment done, then – it was no fun watching the captain be dumb if he was doing it on purpose.
Hopefully if anything particularly interesting happened with Warriors’… situation, it’d be dramatic enough for even Four to notice. And subsequently give him all the details of, since the other didn’t seem to be planning on leaving anytime soon.
For him, however, the Bazaar didn’t really have anything left to offer, which Wind was going to take as his cue to leave.
He weaved through the market-goers with ease, only to slow as he approached one of the marquee’s entrances – eventually just pausing in the tent-flap doorway.
Okay.
Wind stared at the bright light spilling in from outside, just past the toes of his shoes, then glanced at the canvas ceiling stretched over his head.
Okay.
He’d had an hour. That was long enough to get over it.
The sailor took a deep breath, steeled his nerves, and stepped into the light.
If somebody asked, Wind really did like Skyloft. It was as pretty as ever outside, bright and cheerful in the morning sun, and the breeze was cool and fresh – the island was just begging to be explored, really.
He loved it here. It reminded him of home, in some weird way. It was just, well…
A shadow passed overhead, and Wind balled his hands into fists in an effort to keep from flinching.
There was just one integral aspect of Skyloft that he could really do without.
They’d all been there when Sky introduced them to the other half of his soul – it’d been hard to miss, what with the whole flinging himself off the island thing, only to reappear a couple moments later on top of a fuck off massive bird.
Wind liked to think he’d handled it rather well, all things considered. He’d stayed calm, definitely did not stab it, and even obligingly ooh-ed and aah-ed along with the others.
And if he’d hung back while the others were taking turns petting the thing, well. That was nobody’s business but his own.
More importantly, nobody had seemed to notice his trepidation, and Wind would very much like to keep it that way.
Which meant that his stupid brain needed to uphold its end of the bargain, and get over the loftwings already.
They were on Skyloft. Where there were loftwings. It was in the name.
Honestly.
He glanced up as he descended some steps, only to be immediately drawn out of his thoughts by the sight of a flying… house? Thing?
What the fuck?
“What the fuck?” Wind asked quietly.
It was- how was it flying? Was it the propellors? Because there was no way those things were keeping the entire house-ship-thing airborne; and yet, there it was, lazily circling the Bazaar.
How was anyone even supposed to get up there?
He wanted up. How did he get up?
He couldn’t see any convenient ladders or rope, even when he squinted, but there was a hefty-looking bell hanging from the base, swaying slightly in the breeze. Maybe ring it and the house-ship would come down?
Slight problem with that course of action: Wind didn’t have anything to ring it with. They’d all decided to leave their stuff safe in the Academy, since they’d been assured that Skyloft was (relatively) monster-free.
Which was a shame, because he could really use his boomerang right now. Or his grappling hook, or bow, or anything, really.
The bell glinted tantalisingly. A quick scan of the ground bore no convenient rocks to test his aim with.
Dammit.
“I’m coming back for you,” Wind threatened, as he pointed an accusing finger at the ship.
It didn’t seem to notice.
He pulled a face up at it.
There was a flash of movement in his peripheries, successfully drawing his attention away from the flying house-thing to the skies beyond.
If there were more of these things around, he swore to Valoo’s bitten ass-
Oh.
Wind swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.
That was…
That was a lot of birds.
He stared dumbly, unable to drag his eyes away from the lazily circling loftwings high above the island.
A few weeks back, Twilight had pointed out a hawk to him while they were taking a quick rest break. It’d been so still, hanging in the air – but they’d had the perfect vantage point to watch it drop out of its glide like a stone, only diving for a scant few seconds before it was soaring back up with a field-mouse clutched in its talons.
The rancher had rambled off something about its vision and flight feathers, eyes bright, but Wind had barely heard him. He could only watch the bird fly off, prey caught, and wonder how the mouse felt.
Something told him he could wager a guess, all of a sudden.
There had to be a dozen, at least. One dipped away from the group, only to reappear a few moments later with a figure casually perched on its back.
It would be easy for one to peel off, to plummet down, to-
Wind forced himself to lower his gaze, intently focusing on a sprig of grass poking through the flagstones by his feet. He took a slow, deliberate breath, trying to ignore how it trembled on the way in.
There was a tightness in his chest that kept catching on his ribs – he blindly patted down his pockets until he found the one the air potion vial had been carelessly shoved into, withdrawing it to fumble with the cork.
“St-stupid altitude,” he hissed to himself.
Yeah, that had to be it. The height had to be messing with his head, making his thoughts dizzy.
The cork finally came free, and he took a generous swig of the contents. It helped, a little – the extra air made him feel a bit less jittery, eased the vice around his lungs.
He took another measured breath, feeling it smoothly fill his chest.
Better.
How Sky lived like this every day, he had no clue.
The re-stoppered vial was pocketed once more as Wind continued to breathe, nice and steady. Big fan of oxygen, he was. Loved how it kept him alive. Easily had to be one of the top ten favourite things to have in his lungs.
Top five, even.
He chanced another glance upwards, only to decide that the river cutting through the island was much more interesting to look at, actually.
Okay then.
“They’re just seagulls,” he told himself firmly, forcing his leaden feet to continue along the path. “Oversized seagulls. Y-you-”
Breathe. It was just the altitude. “You can tell Aryll all about them. It’ll be great.”
They were just seagulls. He saw flocks of them all the time, on the ocean. It was fine then, it’s fine now.
‘Doesn’t the circling usually mean that’s where a big octo is, though?’, part of his brain pointed out wryly.
‘Shut your damn mouth’, the rest of it replied.
Wind refused to let a bunch of feathery bastards ruin this for him. He was going to explore, he was gonna have fun, and he was gonna be fine.
The sailor ducked under an overhang arching over the path, marching through determinedly – he didn’t need to acknowledge how being under cover made him feel safer, because he didn’t need to feel safe. Because. He was fine.
The brief stutter in his step was from a stray pebble, that’s all. It was just coincidence that it happened just as he stepped back out into the open.
They were just seagulls.
…Would a Hyoi Pear-
Nope, thinking about literally anything other than that, thank you very much. Like…
He cast his eyes around for a proper distraction, because otherwise he was going to start thinking about field-mice again, and Wind really didn’t need that right now.
Ooh, wait, actually; there, bridging the river just before it spilled over the edge of the island, a row of solid outcroppings poking up from the water. Flat-topped, only slightly precarious, and perfect for hopping across.
The waterfall into the open sky below them was a little intimidating, but Wind had spent too long skipping over the similar stepping-stone rocks back on Outset to falter now. Sure, there was a difference between a dunk in the ocean and being washed into the cloudy abyss, but that was a problem for him only if he tripped like a doofus, so. Eh.
It was just a simple one-hop, two – a pause to stare at the water rushing below, glimmering and inviting in a way he knew far better than to trust by now – then a three-four-five-and-done. Easy-peasy.
Maybe he could go for a swim after he’d finished exploring. More towards the centre of the island, obviously, but swimming in freshwater was always a fun novelty.
That was later, though. Right now he wanted to see what kinda stuff he could find on this side of the river.
Like whatever that statue thingy over there was. It was a strange, almost bulbous thing, carved from a pale stone and perched on the very edge of the island.
Wind beelined towards it, interest thoroughly piqued. What even was it?
Two layers, flared out like the ruffles of a dress. Maybe a person? Oh, but there was that weird jutty-out bit near the top. It was angled strangely, almost like the statue was…
Wait, was this thing backwards?
He very carefully peered around it, mindful of the edge – and oh, there was the face. And big-ass beak, because of course it was a stumpy little loftwing.
Old too, if the fuzziness of some of the carved details was anything to go by.
The beak was open, but Wind didn’t care quite enough to risk falling in an attempt to see if anything was inside. But the eyes, now that was worth looking at.
Each eye was a large, red-orange gemstone, faceted and beautiful and Wind legitimately itched to get his hands on them. Just one would be enough to make Tetra or Linebeck literally seethe with jealousy, surely nobody would miss it.
He leaned further around the body of the bird, one hand braced on carved feathers and balancing on a tiptoe as he used the other hand to give the statue’s right eye a testing wiggle.
No good; it didn’t budge, too securely set.
Trying the other one gave the same result, but this gem did look significantly less weathered. The cuts of the facet were a bit more crisp, the surface clear and undamaged.
If Wind craned his neck, he could just barely make out a design within the gem – it looked like the Old Kingdom crest he kept seeing around, proud wings outstretched. Although, they were in Sky’s era, so probably not that old. New, even.
It was missing some details, though, so maybe it was actually even older. An Old-Old Kingdom crest, maybe?
Wind wanted.
He wanted it so bad, it was so pretty and shiny and augh. But it wouldn’t shift an inch, even when he tried fitting his nails under the seam in an attempt to pry it loose.
This would be so much easier if he had enough foot room to actually get some proper leverage. Not to mention that even if he tried using a dagger or something, odds were it’d pop free in a way that would send it careening into the clouds below, never to be seen again.
Honestly. How was he supposed to plunder under these circumstances?
Wind gave it one last futile tug, lips pursed, before he was forced to concede defeat to a stupid statue.
Maybe if he sat on its head and tried that angle?
Ugh, wait, never mind, way too conspicuous. Someone would spot him immediately, and it was much harder to pull an excuse out of your ass when you’re being obvious about stealing things. Plausible deniability and youthful innocence could only take someone so far.
He sighed, lowering himself back onto his heels with a pout.
Well. Add that one to the list of things to come back to, he supposed.
“The instant I find me a proper tool, it’s over for you,” he warned.
Like the house-ship-thing, it didn’t grace him with an answer.
It looked almost lonely, if he looked at it for too long. Standing sentinel, looking out over an empty sky all by itself. Maybe that was the point?
Weird, though. Who builds a statue just to put all the interesting parts where no one can see them?
He’d appreciate those gems so much more than this thing ever had, this was just unfair.
Wind decided that if he was gonna sulk, he was gonna do it somewhere where he wasn’t being glinted at mockingly. And if he stuck his tongue out before turning on his heel, that was between him and the sunken gods.
Alright, what else was over here.
Oh. Wild and Hyrule, apparently.
The two were animatedly discussing something, unperturbed by how only one of them was still on the ground – the other perched high above on one of those floating chunks of land that were scattered around the edge of Skyloft.
Wind genuinely had no clue how in the world Wild had managed to get up there.
Sheer, bull-headed tenacity, if he had to guess.
Though he wasn’t sure how that factored into ignoring the existence of a few minor details; like, y’know, gravity, or the lack of handholds that didn’t start ten metres in the air.
He wandered closer, one ear idly listening in on their conversation as he stared at the larger mass of land floating above the island itself, the main waterfall spilling down from it.
(“…saying that I can.”
“And I’m saying that you can’t!”)
Where was all that water coming from? Surely it couldn’t all fit within that dinky little island.
(“Well, I’m telling you that if I started from high enough, I’d get ages away. I’d be a little speck on the horizon – and you’d be left here looking stupid, so bleh.”)
Not to mention that, by all means, the waterfall should’ve run dry well before now.
Although, to be fair, it was a magical floating island above another, larger magical floating island. So maybe he should stop trying to apply logistics to the probably also magic waterfall.
(“You see, you say that, but I’ve seen you smack into a tree mid-glide like eight times by now. So.”)
Man, imagine if they had something like this back home. They’d never have to worry about collecting rainwater again.
Wind looked down just in time to catch Wild making a sweeping gesture at the open skies behind him.
“Tell me, ‘Roolie. Do you see any goddamn trees.”
Hyrule crossed his arms, unimpressed. “No, just a long drop after one of those octorok-lookin’ things takes a potshot at you.”
That got the champion’s attention, Wild looking over his shoulder at the rocks scattered throughout the clouds. “Wait, the what nows?”
Wind didn’t bother trying to spot one with them, far more interested in the cave opening tucked into the cliff face under the waterfall island. Exploring that could be fun.
His luck remained poor, though, as the entrance was grown over with carefully cultivated trees, thin but sturdy trunks effectively barring anyone from getting in.
The same method was used back home on the path up to the top of Outset, meant to keep the little kids from traipsing into the Fairy Forest or off the bridge without supervision. Wind recognised and appreciated their usefulness, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t resent them slightly.
Honestly, he wasn’t five.
There was a sign in front of the trees, emblazoned with text; he couldn’t read Sky’s Hylian, but Wind knew a ‘keep out’ sign when he saw one.
The urge to slice through the trees (and condescending sign) and go in anyway out of spite was growing by the second.
Slight problem on that front, though. No sword.
Ugh.
He should’ve just sucked it up and lugged his stuff around anyway, this was just proving to be more annoying than it was worth.
If Wind tried, he could probably squeeze his way in regardless, but not having his sword or any weapons on him was inconvenient in more ways than one. In his experience, caves like this were blocked off for a reason.
Not to mention that if he got his face all scratched up by a stray keese, he’d literally never hear the end of it.
Well. This side of the river was a bust, then.
He really wanted to explore the waterfall island up above, but, well. He wasn’t Wild. So gravity tragically still applied to him.
That settled it, he was coming back here with all his gear later. He’d like to see these fancy floating rocks beat his hookshot.
He turned away from the cave with a put-out sigh, tuning back in to whatever ‘Roolie and Wild were still chattering about.
“It’s called tactics,” Wild was declaring grandly, “You don’t just go flinging yourself off high surfaces all willy-nilly-”
“You don’t?” Hyrule asked.
“-Hush, you – you gotta be smart about it. You gotta make a plan.”
Hyrule snorted, crossing his arms. “All the plans in the world won’t stop you from getting sweaty palms and losing your grip, Champion.”
Wild gaped in offence. “Wh- I’ll have you know that I once managed to glide nearly a whole kilometre away from Ridgeland Tower! In one go! I won that study!”
The traveller nodded consolingly. “And I’m sure that means a lot. To you.”
Wild pulled a face down at him, throwing in a rude gesture for good measure.
“You can be bitchier than the Vet sometimes, you know that right?”
The gesture was returned, although Hyrule’s shoulders shook with his quiet snickers.
“It’s a gift,” he said simply. “Alright then, mister paraglider, just what is this master plan of yours?”
The champion drew himself up primly, clearing his throat as he got back into his flow.
“Step one, find the highest vantage point.” He pointed a finger up, and both Wind and Hyrule glanced up at the waterfall island. “Like so.”
Hyrule didn’t bother asking Wild how he was planning on getting up there, which was annoying because Wind still had no clue what bullshit he’d pulled to get as high as he already had.
“Step two is the fun part,” Wild continued, “Because it involves teamwork.”
His added flourishing gestures were blinked up at with varying levels of skepticism.
“Y’know, I don’t think that’s what Wars and Twi meant when they said you should practice working in a team,” Hyrule pointed out.
“Well, tough shit, because that’s the excuse they’re getting,” the champion said dismissively, “Not the point, though.”
He leaned forwards, arms braced on his thighs as he grinned a mischievous grin down at the traveller.
“The point,” he said conspiratorially, “Is that we know someone with quite the mastery over the winds.”
Oh boy. Wonder who that could be.
See, this was why Wind eavesdropped. Everyone always started making all the interesting schemes when they thought he wasn’t looking.
“Y’know Wind’s…” Wild trailed off, making a vague swooshy gesture with his hand, “…Magic baton thingy?”
“The one he definitely won’t let you borrow?” Hyrule asked.
“I’m not gonna borrow it, no way I can use it anywhere near as well as him,” the champion scoffed, and Wind tried to tamp down the faint thrill of pride at the indirect praise. “I just wanna get him to do me a favour. In the name of science.”
Hyrule was facing away from him, but the sailor could practically hear his bemused eyebrow raise. “Since when was science a factor in this?”
“Since I snagged me a silver rupee for participating in a study from a guy who had apparently never heard the term ‘Rito’ in his life,” Wild said with a haughty sniff. “I’m just getting him more data, is all.”
“Is that science? Or is that wanting more money?”
“Not important. So what I’m thinking is that I bring the Sailor up with me-”
How, he still didn’t say.
“-And he’ll swish his fancy stick and get the wind blowing in my favour.”
Fancy stick. See if Wind helped him now, with that attitude.
“O…kay,” Hyrule said slowly, “And why does he need to get dragged all the way up there for that?”
Oh, wait, fair question, actually.
Wild perked up, pleased to reveal the rest of his grand scheme. “Because,” he said, drumming his knees in excitement, “Then he’ll pull out his crazy powerful Deku leaf, and whoosh! Give me a boost!”
The traveller looked up at him for a long few moments. “So your plan is to cheat.”
Wind stifled a snort as Wild wrinkled his nose down at the other. “It’s not cheating,” he protested, “It’s tactics.”
“Tell Wars that.”
“He’ll take my side, asshole, he’s the one who’s always harping on about how ‘any advantage is a good advantage’. Also, since when did you give half a shit about sportsmanship?”
“Low blow,” Hyrule said, but Wind could hear the smile in his voice. “Alright, fine, if you wanna play like that, I bet you…”
He scanned his eyes over the horizon for a second before pointing at something.
“Twenty rupees that you’ll fall before that rock over there.”
Wild followed his hand, then whipped his head back around in affront. “Only that far?!”
“Sweaty hands,” ‘Roolie said with an unapologetic shrug.
“I do not- You are so rude. Pick a better one.”
The traveller pointed at a closer rock.
“Oi!”
“What happened to it being for science?”
“It’s primarily for bragging rights, would you just work with me here-”
Wind decided to dip before they could get the chance to finally notice he was there and try to drag him into their plans, quietly sidling away while they were distracted by Hyrule’s bubbling laughter.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to participate, it was just that they had been specifically told not to do anything, quote, ‘hare-brained or generally ill-advised’ – and he was fairly sure that ‘flinging yourself off the island on a dare’ fell into both categories.
They could do whatever, but Wind was saving his one free ‘get off with a warning’ pass for a pair of very shiny gemstones.
If Wild wanted his help that bad, he could at least start with a half-decent bribe.
The sailor hummed to himself as he meandered back the way he came, pausing as he hopped over the river bridge before picking the tune back up.
Alright, where to next.