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Chapter Text

Activity and movement were at an all time high in Hyrule Castle, the likes of which had not been seen since the end of the war.

This was to be expected, however, given the reappearance of she who had started that war, the Dark Sorceress, Cia, who once again held two pieces of the Triforce and sought to retake the third from Queen Zelda anew.

With news of the scouting party, led by General Impa and Lana, having finally reached and reactivated the Owl Statue in the Valley of Souls, the Hyrulean Army was thus readying itself to set out, the knights donning their armor and weapons before heading to the castle’s own Owl Statue, which would warp them to the other.

Amidst all of that, a certain part of the army was buzzing, the tinkling of bells, usually a pleasant sound that made others smile fondly, now tolling with agitation, impatience, and anger.

Despite those feelings, which had been simmering from the very first inklings of possible danger approaching their home, their loved ones, their Claimed, again… not to mention the interference and breaking of many of the Claims placed upon their missing hero, a truly sacrilegious act and insult, which could only be made right with blood… the Fairy Corps was as organized and disciplined as their Hylian counterparts.

Armor their allies had taught them to craft, most of which were fashioned after that worn by Link, was donned quickly and efficiently, magics checked and magical restoring rations passed out to all who would depart with the army by those who would remain on standby in the castle medical wards.

Once both units are ready, the Fae all gather around the tree the queen had placed within the castle wings she’d gifted to them and Link, the tolling that had been sounding before dimming as the ones named Eldest Sisters, their captains in Hyrulean Army terms, came to hover before them.

And although it was Proxi who usually stepped in to rally everyone, Hylian and Fairy alike… this time it was Loyla who spoke, her voice as calm and quiet as ever… yet colder than any of their non-Fairy friends and kin usually heard.

“Let’s go get our boys,” she stated, a short and simple thing… and yet, all that was really needed to say, fairy bells tolling in full force now as the shimmer set out.

Things quickly became quite hectic upon the army’s arrival to the Temple of Souls, even without any enemy forces to be found.

This lack of enemies is, most likely, due to the Hero of Skies, given the earlier information provided by Impa… a conclusion Loyla did not doubt, nor was at all surprised by… given the destruction Link and the boys had wrought during the war, the signs of the new hero’s battle burning in the courtyards and carved into the stone walls of the temple itself as the army carefully made its way forwards.

With the need to ensure the safety of possible hostages as well as providing medical aid as quickly as possible, the Fairy Corps followed Lana deeper into the Temple of Souls, while Impa and Zelda set out with their own soldiers to track down either Cia, the Hero of Skies, or both.

This, unfortunately, meant the Fae couldn’t seek the blood of the one who had stolen what was theirs directly (especially not with the agreement the Hyrulean queen had gotten out of them)… but the destruction of the Moblin guards that appeared to block their path slaked a good amount of their thirst for vengeance.

The discovery of two of their Claimed further soothed their anger, though concern for their First Claimed only grew… as an evil (and uncomfortably familiar for Proxi and the other Fae who’d traveled to the Era of Skies with Link during the war), aura suddenly swept through the area.

Whether in response to this, or due entirely to the images shown on the magic infused mirror that had been placed outside the prison cell (and still managed to function even after sustaining damage from the Fae’s disposal of the Moblins), their Claimed emit sharp curses before their youngest, now oldest, grabs his bag from the pile of gear that had been recovered on the way to the prison, then races away, towards the heart of the temple.

“Please let him go, guys, he- it’s just… a lot of things have happened,” is how Tune keeps Loyla or any of the others from racing after and stopping Mask, the tone of his voice and expression he wears sending renewed concern through the fairies’ ranks.

Through further pleading, Tune instead turns their attention towards the heroes of Legend, Hyrule, and the Four Swords, the first two of which wear adornments that have the Fae hissing in renewed outrage as well as concern.

It’s immediately clear the ‘jewelry’ are the accursed, magic sealing ‘accessories’ Zelda had seen in her dreams, made without any concern for the prisoner’s health, unlike those made by Lana, in preparation for today.

Lana herself wears an expression that is a mixture of alarm and concern as she examines the heroes herself, Loyla’s eyes narrowing at the hopeful eagerness that lights the sorceress’ gaze as well, when she begins interacting with the men and boys.

It's something to keep an eye on, but not to focus on now, when the Legend and Four individuals, especially, are displaying clear signs of medical distress.

Training from the Hylian Medical Corps kicks in, the word triage murmuring on a loop through the fairies’ memories as they move to examine the other boys for any injuries or illnesses, anything that can be soothed or mended with their least taxing healing magic, in the event there might still be enemies to fend off.

Finding none, everyone is eventually led out of the dungeon and temple itself, the heroes ushered towards the edge of the claimed and fortified first courtyard, Tune calling out worryingly tired greetings when Zelda joins the little group some time later.

“It is good to see you, Tune, though I of course wish circumstances had been better for our official reunion,” the young queen greeted in turn with a sad smile, “and am I right to assume that Mask has already run off after Link and the Hero of Skies?”

Tune emits a tired and worried laugh as he nods, though what little mirth he might’ve had fades quickly, as he begins relaying all that had happened to the heroes while imprisoned by Cia.

Their boy does his best to remain composed, emulating Link when he’d report to Zelda and Impa as best and as long as he can… though his voice begins to waver and tears form, when he reveals the amnesia that has stricken his elder brother.

“What do you mean Link can’t remember anything?!” Proxi cried, many of the other Fae echoing her disbelief and dismay, “th-that can’t– m-maybe you misunderstood?!”

“Proxi,” Loyla called, pushing aside her own emotions and preparing to caution her co-captain to do the same, at least for now…

…except that a certain something… or rather, someone… catches everyone’s attention before she can.

“Link!” Proxi cried, rushing off before Loyla could even think to grab hold of her, most of the other fairies following suit as they all caught sight of their boy, their first Claimed and hero, standing in the entrance of the Temple of Souls.

None of them seemed to have glimpsed the flash of uncertainty as Link had hesitated on the temple's threshold... followed by fear, which swept across Link’s face when he’d caught sight of Lana…

...nor the confusion that overtook him as the fairies began fluttering around Link and the badly injured boy (the Hero of Skies, Loyla assumed) he held in his arms.

None but Loyla’s fellow Dark Fae, who’d noticed and realized the same things she had, especially Null, their resident psychologist-in-training… whose expression grew pained, before she shook her head.

“Don’t know enough yet,” was all she’d murmured, to which Loyla couldn’t help but emit a small sigh in response, before once again pushing aside her own feelings to be dealt with later and moving to take charge of the situation.

A bit of charm magic has the distrust and unease fading from their boy nice and quick, allowing Loyla and the rest of the Fae to lead Link and the Sky boy over to the others without any further fuss, Mask trailing after them with an aura of sadness draped over him.

That sadness is understandable, but not the distance he carefully maintains from Link and the boy in his arms, even as everyone else gathers around the two of them.

A bit more power is supplied to the calming magics when the newest boy tries to shift away from Link and closer to the others, resulting in Link panicking, hand coming dangerously close to grabbing hold of the Master Sword and the expression on his face promising trouble if he succeeds.

Perhaps too much power, as a few of the other new heroes nearly lose consciousness… though Loyla wouldn’t say that was a bad thing, given how ill most of them appear to be.

She supposes it's a testament of both his prowess and the stubborn nature most likely passed down alongside his spirit, that has the First Hero and King of Hyrule resisting the call for calm and rest, as much as Mask and Tune (who’d managed to learn ways to… ‘squirrel around it’, when they weren’t the main focus, during the war).

That, and the buzzing energy akin to the Stamina Fruits that can be felt emanating from the Sky boy (far too strongly for any Hylian, especially for one that appears so haggard), alongside fever and frantic worry… even if he works to keep said worry hidden as he drapes his cape (which also hums with magic, that reminds Loyla of Fi, mildly) over Link, murmuring his own soothing platitudes as he leans into the elder boy.

It’s immediately evident that the Sky individual is in the most critical condition… but also clear that nothing can really be done for him at this time and place, aside from easing his concerns for Link and the other heroes.

Thus, Loyla instructs her fellow Fae to begin proper medical assessments for those other heroes, alongside the Hylian medics that come to join them, though much of their conclusions remain predictably similar.

Aside from understandable signs of distress and fatigue, Tune and the heroes of Twilight and the Wild are in good physical health.

The other heroes were not so lucky, which was not a surprise given the magic suppressants all but one of them wore… though the one who was free of them had clear signs of magical distress regardless.

This was concerning enough… but the fact that Mask seemed to be deliberately keeping his distance from the other heroes, even Tune, had Loyla’s worries increasing even further.

It was thus a true relief when the Owl Statue was ready to transport their group to the castle… even if that relief continued to be tempered by the confirmations and reminders of Link’s loss of memory… one of which being in the way he’d positioned his current charge and then himself in a corner of the room the heroes had been placed in after arriving at the hospital.

Even with the charm magic still in effect, Link’s posture remained guarded and distrustful, angled so that all were in his line of sight at all times… though he at least allowed Proxi to perch atop his head, as she and many of the other fairies have done countless times since they’d first met in the War.

Perhaps this, and his genuine concern for both Link and the Hero of Skies, is why Tune dares to venture close.

Loyla watches the ensuing interaction from the corner of her eye, as she relays what she and the other Fae and medics had observed with the hospital staff, carefully positioned in the doorway, who would take over the heroes’ care from here.

They were all just making tentative plans to move forwards, at the same time Tune and Proxi were talking to Link… when a sudden flaring of what Loyla knows to be Cia’s magic occurs, at the same time Link emits a small gasp.

This, of course, immediately brings Loyla’s attention back to their First Claimed, who has properly lodged himself into the corner of the room now, pupils blown wide, but eyes unseeing, and body shivering violently…

…while black rose vines creep over his skin, a physical manifestation of Cia’s magic, of her own Claim, upon Link.

It is still not a full Claim, however, and thankfully, the physical manifestation fades when Loyla and the other Fae manage to draw Link’s mind back from where it had wandered… or, perhaps, been pulled away to, via Cia’s magic.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Proxi sobs in the meantime, from where Tune had managed to coax her to perch on his outstretched palms, both she and the boy understandably upset, “I didn’t mean to…!”

“I know,” Loyla murmurs gently, once the marks of Cia’s Claim fade back into invisibility, Null and Twy taking over assessing Link’s current status, working to stabilize it further, “but we need to focus on removing what we can of Cia’s magic first… especially if it’s affected by Link’s emotional state or the memory loss.”

“Should I try wrapping him in my Sailcloth again?” the Hero of Skies inquired, already trying to rise from his seat, despite Tune’s protest, and reaching for his white cape again. “It seemed to help calm him before, plus it’s warm—”

“S’cuse me a second,” a new voice cut in then, its owner the hero which could only be that of the Twilight, given the magical traces that cling to him, alongside the markings on his face that resemble Midna’s own.

Link’s blood kin, the Fae realize instantly, the missing piece between Link and Mask, as evidenced by the magical signatures that lay between the three, and even a fourth, who stands in the background, hovering over the Heroes of Four and Legend.

This, and the clear care the Hero of Twilight displays as he wraps Link into his arms, which continues in his mindful maneuvering of their Claimed onto his lap as he sits on the chair moved over for just that purpose, is what keeps the Fae from growing defensive or territorial.

It does not, however, keep Loyla from rightfully scolding the man, “given that Cia’s magic was still in effect, and the fact Link was clearly displaying signs of dissociating at that point, it was probably not the best idea to, effectively, manhandle him in the manner which you did…”

“Sorry, but I couldn’t take it no more,” is how the Hero of Twilight responded, at least having the decency to look and sound sheepish as he did.

“That sounds quite familiar,” Loyla can’t help but remark, gaze flitting between Link, Tune and Mask.

She elects to take the discussion no further, however, turning her attention instead to examining Link once more, after sending one of the other Fae to update the queen and Hylian mages of what had just occurred, before trying to get a better look at what Cia has done to their Claimed.

Link himself emits a soft whimper when this, unfortunately, leads to the reappearance of rose thorns on his skin, though they are faint this time.

The Hero of Twilight begins murmuring soothing platitudes in response to the sound, even as his face contorted with anger and worry, the other Fae hovering around them all, deploying further calming magic, while the remaining Dark Fae offer Loyla aid in her examination.

Interestingly, the Claim bearing Cia’s magical signature fluctuates, and even seems to weaken, when the Hero of Skies maneuvers himself in close again, Tune still on his lap.

Weakens, but remains stubbornly clinging to their boy, sunk into the back of Link’s left hand, where the Triforce of Courage usually sits, as well as his heart, unsurprisingly… and seems to be drawing at least some of its strength from the magical restraints…

The Hylian doctors arrive at this point, Loyla quickly sharing her and the other Fae’s findings and speculations, before moving aside to allow the medical staff to conduct their own observations.

With input from Mask, the Hero of the Four Sword is then carefully transported to another room to await the retrieval of his sword, the Hero of the Wilds following to ensure this is carried out once he receives his own clean bill of health.

Things proceed rather quickly after that, as well as mirror much of what the initial field assessment had found, with Tune and the Hero of Twilight in as good a condition as they could be after their imprisonment, both receiving permission to stay, given their obvious status as objects of comfort for Link and the Hero of Skies.

The latter had clutched Tune tightly, his expression growing further distressed when it came time for the Hero of Legend, the Hero of Hyrule, and Link himself to be examined… everything about him screaming anguish and, insanely, guilt.

That guilt is likely why he’d insisted on going last, despite the fact he was the one in most need of care, the veteran medics from the war, with their experience dealing with the three Heroes of that war, well aware that it would be a waste of time trying to argue or scold the boy for such behavior.

Better to simply do as ‘requested’ as quickly as possible, which they’d all done with practiced ease, Loyla and the other fairies aiding in whatever way they could.

Of course, much of that aid would be needed in the act of removing the magical restraints, or healing whatever they could of the Hero of Skies injuries, Loyla pulling Neris and Lofty aside to instruct them to stay with the boy and Tune, so that they could provide their unique brand of aid, especially once it was time to deal with the Chosen’s badly injured leg.

A time which would arrive soon, as word came that the mages and Magic Circles were ready, the other medics aiding in beginning to transport Link and the other heroes to the other room.

“You comin’ Old Man?” the Hero of Twilight asked, drawing Loyla’s attention over to where the younger man stood in the doorway, his gaze continuously shifting from Link, who was still in his arms, to Mask… whose own, troubled gaze shifted from Link, to the Hero of Skies.

“I’d… really rather stay here…”

“Mask,” Loyla immediately began to object, readying to list all the reasons why this was no time to be argumentative or contrary, not while those things were on him…

…right up until she found herself face to face with their youngest Claimed, despair and sadness, desperation and pleading, on full display and causing his voice to crack.

“Loyla… please…” her little brother begs, regret draping over him as his gaze shifts back towards the Hero of Skies who, with the help of one of the nurses, Neris, Lofti and Tune, was working to remove his frightfully shredded and bloodstained clothing and armor.

There’s a story here, something that has happened between those two and possibly Link as well… perhaps a fight, made worse by Link’s amnesia? Something to do with the other boy being separated from the rest of the heroes?

Whatever the reason, it’s clear Mask is desperate to remain at the Hero of Skies’ side for now… and, with his magic and vital signs still in relatively stable condition… Loyla supposes there’s really no reason to deny Mask’s request.

She still makes her disapproval clear with a pointed sigh before relenting, though not before turning to address Proxi, who nods her reluctant understanding to stay with Mask and inform Loyla if anything changes for the worst, before the the dark fairy turned back to usher the Hero of Twilight and his charge onwards.

The ceremony to remove the magic suppression jewelry is a complicated and potentially dangerous procedure, especially for the Hero of Legend in his current state.

The boy was definitively suffering the worst from magical buildup, leading to the need to suspend, then reverse the effects of that buildup immediately upon the fracturing of his restraints, the other Fae and the Hylian magical users providing great aid as Loyla performed this endeavor.

Compared to him, the remaining boys are in… as good of shape as can be expected, especially the Hero of Hyrule… for reasons Loyla is better able to realize when his restraints come free and the boy’s magic flares in a familiar fashion, it and his genetic nature propelling him onto his feet, to the exasperation of those assigned to him and his care.

“Little sibling, calm down!” Loyla scolded in their native tongue as the child skittered away from the hands trying to aid, the twitch of ears and swirl of colors in his eyes, which continuously dart from Link to the Hero of Legend with an all too familiar gleam, the final proof of his heritage, “you may attend to your Wished Claimed once your own health is properly seen to!”

The little one whines, but, with a few choice words in the Native Tongue, does as he’s told, leaving Loyla free to turn her attention fully to Link, even if it’s not truly needed.

The Healing Fae have already tended to the damage wrought by the removal of Cia’s filthy accessories, which the Hero of Twilight had then cleaned away, his touch gentle and voice as soothing as ever.

He only faltered briefly, when his attention shifted towards the other boys, the man becoming distressed as he took in what was happening.

Loyla thus quickly intervenes, explaining what has and must yet occur as best she can, just as she has done from the very beginning, reassuring the man that all is well in hand and encouraging him to continue focusing his efforts on Link for the moment.

A bit more urging, and she’s able to get the Hero of Twilight to aid in finally changing Link out of the awful clothes Cia had put him in (which had been positively drenched in her sickening magic and scent) and into a proper hospital gown, the other hero slipping his own on and handing off his now tattered undergarments with only a little extra coaxing.

From there, it was back to the room housing Mask, Tune, and the Hero of Skies, Proxi and the other fairies swarming around the returned once they entered.

Loyla does her best to answer the questions asked (all made in soft tones, so as not to disturb Link) while the Hero of Twilight works to head towards the empty bed in the room.

Upon carefully tucking Link into that bed, he then shifted towards where the Hero of Skies and Tune lay.

Both had been dressed in clean hospital gowns of their own, the former fast asleep, while the latter was still awake enough to give reassurances that he remained content with his current arrangements.

Hearing this, and the reports from Neris and the other Fae, confirming there was nothing further to be done whilst the Hero of Skies slept, Loyla then turned her attention fully onto Mask, though it was the Hero of Twilight who first called out to him.

“Old Man, you need to get those off,” he stated, plain but careful in tone, as he tapped a finger on the cuff adorning Mask’s left wrist. “They said what it was doin’ t’ the others and… it’s bad, Time.”

“Indeed,” Loyla quickly concurred, taking hold of the opportunity provided, “and while you have been relatively fine thus far, now that the Hero of Skies has been treated and is resting… and the other heroes’ restraints have been removed… we really must get your own off as soon as possible. The risk of permanent damage, or even organ failure, grows the longer you wear the suppressors.”

For some nonsensical reason, this causes Mask’s face to twist into that familiar, stubborn and angry expression Loyla had seen so often during the war, albeit more pronounced with the marks of the Fierce Deity adorning his face.

Before he or Loyla herself can say anything, however, the Hero of Twilight resolves the possible conflict with just two simple words.

“Please, Da?”

Thankfully, with it being the second time and only needing to focus on one individual, the procedure of removing Cia’s restraints goes far more quickly than before.

Mask still wears various tracks of blood as well as burns, same as the other heroes had, but the majority of the damage is easily repaired with a sweep of the Healing Faes’ magic.

The Hero of Twilight is then quick to step in and aid with cleaning away the bloody tracks on his ancestor’s face… though he has no better luck in coaxing the stubborn manchild in drinking an additional potion, which would ease the aftereffects of the magic suppression he’d undergone, than Loyla and the others.

He does, however, manage to get Mask changed into his own clean hospital gown, then transported over to the empty bed in the same room as the heroes of Legend and Hyrule.

Loyla had expected the Hero of Twilight to then curl up alongside his ancestor for the night…

…but, of course, something like that evidently went against the nature of the Hero himself… especially one descended from the surliest child the Fae had ever met.

It took three circuits between the rooms his fellows had been distributed into for their recovery and rest before the anxious energy began to ease enough that the charm magic was able to finally gain some ground in easing him towards the slumber he needed.

And even then, he’d resisted stubbornly, near deliriously, as he fretted over Link and Mask specifically, the wolven spirit, which Loyla’s magic can just detect the shadow of in the boy’s aura, clearly aching to be with his blood kin… but unable to decide between those who were clearly in distress and separated for reasons that were beyond anyone’s control.

“We will look after Mask,” Loyla cajoles, once again applying charm magic, when it looks like the man is readying himself for a fourth circuit between the rooms, after rearranging the blankets around the Hero of Skies and Tune again.

“It has been quite a long period since he has gotten to spend time with Fae, like he had done in his past, no? We shall provide the comfort of his youth, so why not lend your warmth and protection to Link for the night, proud wolf?”

The fact that Link emits the smallest noise of distress right at that moment, his face contorting with the emotion and body curling inwards, even as sleep keeps him within its bonds, is an unexpected and rather painful aid in Loyla’s persuasion.

It works, however… though only after Loyla aids the Hero of Twilight in retrieving a certain artifact, the magic swirling around him, transforming man into wolf, who then carefully crawls into bed with Link, tail thumping softly a few times when his kin immediately rolls towards him and burrows into warm fur.

It is mere seconds after the wolf himself finally falls properly into slumber that Loyla hears the soft call of her name, the source her little sister, Neris, dressed in pajamas and holding Loyla’s own in her arms, a pointed smile on her face.

“...I suppose it would be rather hypocritical of me to forego sleep any longer,” Loyla sighed, as she allowed Neris to take hold of her hand and lead her to the room where they’d left Mask.

The half of the Fae who’d gone to the Temple alongside Loyla were already in the room, all dressed for bed, the Light Fae creating a curtain for privacy as Loyla changed into her own bedclothes before moving towards the bed where their youngest Claimed lay.

A frown tugs at the corners of her lips when she notices the small dots of red on Mask’s pillow, though the Water Fae have already cleaned off any new tracks from their boy’s face.

Small braids have also been woven into his blond locks, the likes of which had always led to smiles during their time together in the war, and were likely made with the hopes of the same thing occurring this time as well.

The fact that Mask’s face is, currently, relatively smooth and devoid of the earlier turmoil, lends validity to that hope, though Loyla still has her own worries.

But, they are worries for the morning, as Neris tugs her towards a free spot amidst their sisters who have already curled up with their slumbering Claimed, the younger Light Fae wrapping the elder in her arms as they lay down, the soft chimes of sleep and the steady breathing of their Hylian boy soon pulling Loyla into the depths of slumber as well.

Chapter Text

Neris knew exactly what she needed to do, even before Loyla relayed her instructions.

It would be hard not to know, given the state the Hero of Skies was in, the poor thing.

The sight of his injuries, so many injuries, was utterly heartbreaking, the boy’s tunics and chainmail little more than bloodstained scraps, fluttering like ribbons as Tune and Mask, their grownup but still young Mask, eased them off of their fellow hero.

It’s when all but his vibrant white cape is removed and he’s been carefully shifted over to one of the beds, that Dr. Anaroa stepped up and began her proper analysis, asking the expected questions alongside, checking all the horrible bruises, scrapes, and other wounds that litter that too thin body for any nasty infections, before focusing on the boy’s mangled leg.

Poor darling, poor skybird, he trembles and clings to Tune, who’d carefully positioned himself beside the elder boy on the bed, hands stroking soothing circles on quivering arms or squeezing trembling hands, helping to coax answers out of his fellow hero.

Mask does much the same thing, albeit with far more hesitance and uncertainty from where he stands on little dove’s right, running a careful hand through tangled and bloodied dark blonde hair, shifting closer when Dr. Anaroa begins carefully probing the bad leg, Neris and Lofti taking their own notes through visual and magical means alongside.

Obviously, one of their kind had not seen to the leg, no fairy would’ve allowed such awful healing, such twisting, certainly nothing that would’ve left the pain the boy reluctantly admits to, the silly, darling, poor little dove, so consumed by that pain and the sickness that radiates off him.

Silly thing can’t even properly recall the exact time that had passed since the initial breaking of the limb, Mask quietly correcting him just out of dove’s line of sight.

The clear overuse of Stamina Fruits, and some other stamina boosting elements, like yet unlike the Hylians stamina potions they used during the war, can’t have helped with the confusion either, even now their magical aura can be detected, strong and clinging to poor Skybird.

There’s still enough of it left yet, that reversing or cleansing through the use of the Hylian drugs would do more harm than good at this stage.

Neris and Lofti confirm this when they and Dr. Anaroa move away from the boys to compare notes and plan for the next step, which is obvious to everyone, of course.

Anaroa thus leaves to gather the necessary materials, leaving Neris free to begin her own work, the trickier work, but it's okay, because Neris is very good at this part.

“Hey, hey! So, you’re the Hero of Skies, right?” is how Neris begins her part of the operation, as she and Lofti fly back to the boys, bouncing around and keeping her voice light and tinkling as she circles the hero in question’s head, “the one from Skyloft, right?”

“Huh? Um, y-yes?” the boy stammers, clearly surprised, eyes clouded with fatigue, pain, and so many other things that make Neris want to frown, but now isn’t the time for that, not when she can help!

“Ooh, does that mean you’re one of the Sky Knights, too?! With your own Loftwing?!”

“You know about that?” the boy asks, a bit of light coming back to dulled eyes, hope lifting the corners of his mouth that had been curled with fatigue and pain, though a new ache can also be seen on his face, “and… and you’ve met Loftwings?”

“Yeah, they were so incredibly amazing!” Neris giggled, carefully beginning to filter the first bit of charm magic into her voice, “they were so big, and they could fly so fast!”

There’s the smallest twitch from Tune, a hint of unease, likely due to the Helmaroc King, which unfortunately shared many similarities to the Loftwings, the description of the latter probably bringing up bad memories.

The sudden faltering in Skybird’s expression and words indicates he’d noticed the blooming discomfort as well; silly thing is far too alert, even in his current state.

This prompts Neris to change topics, something fairies have worked hard to make a trait of their people and thus, something entirely natural and easily dismissed.

“Oh! Oh! That means you’re Fi’s hero, aren’t you?!” she cries with just the right level of excitement, clapping her hands together at the same time she flies two quick circles around Skybird’s head.

“Y-you know Fi?!”

“Sure do, sure do!” Neris chirps, bouncing in the air again, working to ensure Skybird’s head is angled just the right way so he won’t see Mask’s flinch (she knows he’s never much liked the sword spirit, but Neris needs to work with what she’s got!), “she was an ally during the War!”

The boy’s eyes widen, both in alarm and intrigue, the former emotion prompting Neris to forego the more harrowing tales of the war in question, while using the latter as her hook, her anchor for the charm magic.

It’s not like her big sister’s charm magic, which is like a nice, comfy blanket, draped over and around her patient, who needs the weight and warmth to gently pull them towards where they need to go.

No, Neris’ magic is like ribbons (proper ribbons, not like what Skybird’s clothes had become), carefully twining around the silly, stubborn Hylian, slowly, so slowly, too enchanted by her bubbly personality, the one everyone associates their kind with, silly things, to ever even notice her magic encasing them.

Well, almost everyone, as demonstrated by the subtle shifting of Mask and Tuney’s magic, which pushes and slides around Neris’ own, as they’d learned to do, during the War.

But that’s okay, they’re not the main focus right now, Skybird is, and even though he’d managed to avoid Loyla’s blanket, Neris’ ribbons have already gotten a firm hold on him.

“...and her voice is soooo pretty! Have you heard Fi sing? Ooh, ooh, and her dancing! Have you seen her dancing? Her dancing is super pretty, too! And it’s so incredibly amazing that she dances while she fights, too! She was all tip, tap, wheee! And whoosh, swoosh, SWOOSH! All the bad guys go flying!”

Neris works to imitate the movements she’s describing in as cute a fashion as she can, similar to how Tune always tells his stories and in the way that always made Link laugh, after the war had ended and Tune and the others had gone home.

It gets Skybird laughing as well, which was just what she’d needed to get him fully under, though Neris continues relaying memories of Fi even as she gives Lofti the signal to let Dr. Anaroa know that everything was ready.

She keeps her magic, voice, and tales nice and light and steady when the doctor returns, now with the instruments needed for the operation, keeping Skybird’s attention focused on her and nothing else.

It’s only once Dr. Anaroa gives the signal that Neris begins inserting instructions into her storytelling, done smoothly and quickly, before easily shifting back to the story again.

“...and we had to find the summoner in this one set of forts that was set up sooo weirdly, set your leg right there Sky, dear Skybird, good job, but Fi just did this quick thing with her Dowsing ability, did she tell you about her Dowsing ability? Oh, good! It’s incredible, isn’t it?!

“...this one time our allies were pinned down and they were sooo far away, focus on me, darling Skybird, everything is alright, it’s all going to be better soon, nobody knew what to do, even Princess Zelda, and then Fi was all ‘this strategy has a 95% probability of rescuing our allies with the minimum amount of possible casualties’...”

The boy’s focus on Neris does end up faltering slightly, when his leg is re-broken, brow furrowing as his eyes blink rapidly and confusion twists his expression, before the peace of the charm magic hooks back in, pulling Skybird away from the pain, his face quickly smoothing back into a peaceful and intrigued expression again.

A few more seconds to allow Dr. Anaroa and her associates a moment to assess and confirm the bones are in the proper position this time, then Lofti and another of their stronger healing sisters dart in to apply their magic, the Hylians splinting the limb immediately after.

The boy himself begins to droop once the healing magic is applied and the leg secured, his eyes fluttering, but not falling shut, thanks to the Stamina magic that still buzzes around him.

That buzz has grown much weaker, however, weak enough that Neris and the other Fae can begin applying their own magics to try and aid in breaking it down faster, while Anaroa makes further assessments, asks further questions.

“Sky, is there anything else that’s bothering you?”

Skybird blinks slowly, gaze not truly able to focus now, prompting Neris to lightly tug upon the ‘ribbons’ still wrapped around him and repeating the question herself.

Her heart then throbs in sadness and sympathy when his tired, sky blue eyes fill with tears, his voice wobbling as he admits, “I’m so tired. I don’t want to be conscious anymore. Being awake hurts, everything hurts so much…”

Oh little lark, poor darling chick, his confession and tears are no surprise but upsetting all the same, especially for Mask and Tune, the latter of which manages to wriggle his way into Skybird’s lap again, allowing the older boy to cling to him as he continues to cry, while Mask shifts a bit closer to them both, kneeling to murmur soothingly into Skybird’s ear, hand stroking his hair again.

Neris and the others take this time to shift away from the trio, Anaroa asking after the status of the Stamina elements in Skybird’s system, a worried frown appearing when she hears the answer.

“An IV drip is certainly needed,” she murmured, “not least because we need to flush out those Stamina elements as soon as possible, he’s also clearly, severely, dehydrated, among other things…”

“Maybe call in Becka and a few other Water Fairies?” Neris suggested, “and maybe a few Dark Fairies as well, any who aren’t helping Loyla with Link and the other heroes. They might be able to help sleep come sooner, if it’s still not a good idea to try any potions?”

Dr. Anaroa emits a small hum, a finger lightly tapping her chin as she mulls over the situation, before finally nodding her agreement, “yes, let’s go with that. And we’ll try at least one potion, to help his body process the stamina elements, not to mention ease his pain…”

She and Lofti then head out to get the IV drip and the other Fae, while Neris goes back to the boys, resuming her tales, transitioning to stories Tuney can chime in on when she runs out of stories with Fi.

She lets the ribbons loosen at this point, only tightening them again when Dr. Anaroa returns with the IV drip, helping to keep the boy calm and loose as the needle is inserted into his arm, Tuney and Mask then helping him to drink the potion, since his poor hands are shaking too much.

Lofti arrives with Becka and the other Water Fae, a few Dark Fae fluttering in alongside, soon after, all of whom spread out around Skybird, who blinks up at them like a cute, tired little owl.

Subtle applications of both of their magics, sprinkled onto the boy in the form of carefully channeled and enhanced fairy dust, has those blinks growing ever slower, every heavier... until at last they close completely, Mask carefully easing the darling chick to lie down properly on the bed, Tuney going with him as the smaller boy is clutched in Skybird’s arms.

It isn’t too long after that Loyla and the Hero of Twilight returns, poor Link fast asleep in his arms, looking so small and frail, so stressed and weary, bringing back more unpleasant memories of the war.

Loyla herself is looking tired as well, and not just because of the magic she’d used to help remove the magic suppressants from Link and the others.

Neris knows she can’t do anything about that now, not with Mask still wearing nasty magic suppressants of his own.

But that’s okay, at least for right now, Neris will just keep herself occupied by helping the others get ready for bed, grabbing Loyla’s own pajamas and other bedtime essentials as everyone transitions over to the hospital, splitting between their boys.

Neris will wait, as she always has, wait to see if she’ll need to deploy her ribbons again, to gently wrap around and guide the silly members of her family, Fairy and Hylian, old and new, to where they ought to go, whether they think they should or not.

They’ll thank her for it later.