Archive of Our Own ^beta

She is.

She wasn’t a moment ago, yet she wakes up now with all the knowledge in the world at her disposal. Her Grace still treats her like Her child, though: condescending, protective, but all of it wrapped up in a thick blanket of love.

She doesn’t have anything against it, she decides.

Her Grace talks to her a lot. She tells her about the land and the war that was waged in it until recently. She tells her about a human who helped Her fight Demise’s forces of Evil.

Her voice is full of sadness when She speaks about him, which she doesn’t understand. Why would Her Grace mourn this particular man so intensely? He was a mortal; mortals die all the time, according to her sources.

Her Grace pats her head affectionately with a gentle smile. “You’ll understand one day, Fi,” She says.

Fi calculates the probability of that to be low. She listens to Her Grace obediently nonetheless.

Alas, all things must eventually come to an end. Her Grace wraps up their short, but all the more meaningful acquaintance by providing Fi with her task. When the time comes, she is to assist the Chosen Hero in fulfilling his destiny of defeating Demise. Until then, she must wait for him enshrined in a giant statue of Her Grace.

Fi doesn’t mind — she cannot mind, because she doesn’t feel and therefore, nothing bothers her. She is but a spirit. A small, obedient spirit at the service of Her Grace and whomever She finds worthy of divine aid.

She retreats into the confines of the sword she was bound to without another thought.

Her patient slumber is perturbed only once.

She feels a presence nearby, and not a mortal one. It does not feel hostile at the moment, but she cannot risk the sword she rests in being intercepted before the Chosen Hero comes for it.

She decides to reach out with her visual senses in order to have a read of the situation. Beside a thin layer of dust coating all horizontal surfaces, along with a few cobwebs here and there, the circular room hasn’t changed since she last saw it. The fires are still dancing merrily on the torches, drowning the place in a warm yet whimsical light, and the ornate columns around remain untouched — exactly how it’s supposed to be. If it were any different, that would mean someone had been here.

And while the probability of anyone finding this place without her help is very low (around six percent), apparently it is not low enough.

Fi carefully observes the other individual in the room. They’re small, smaller than her head, with a round yellow body and two green-tinted stubby legs. They’re floating around, curiously looking at the carved pillars. She doesn’t sense any malicious intent from them, which is a positive factor.

Fi parses through the information at her disposal. She concludes there to be an 84.2% chance of this intruder being a servant of the Golden Goddesses. She doesn’t address them, though. It’s best not to voluntarily disclose her existence to anyone before the Chosen Hero arrives, be they friend or foe.

She doesn’t expect them notice her — well, of course she expects it, she is aware of each and every possibility there is, could or will be, but as enamored as they are with the room itself, its probability is low enough that she is mildly surprised when they do initiate a conversation with her.

“Oh, hello there,” they say.

She lets them know she acknowledges their presence, but doesn’t reply, deeming it safer to remain cautious until she knows more about the newcomer. Or indefinitely.

They don’t seem to mind.

“It’s incredible what humans are capable of,” they continue, gaze wandering around the room. They seem oddly content with this one-sided conversation. “Hylia’s divinity radiating off this place feels so different from the Goddesses’ I’m used to.”

So they do serve the Golden Three. While that was already the most probable possibility, it is always good to have confirmation. All the better considering she does not sense any trace of a lie as they speak. Not surprising; their kind has no use of even learning how to lie, so unless the Goddesses made an exception in this one’s case — which is highly improbable —, she won’t have to worry about hearing anything but the truth from the newcomer as long as they decide to stay.

Fi scans the yellow spirit over in a new light. According to her sources, they should be one of the spirits created to mend the damage caused by the primordial being Null, then.

It doesn’t make sense, though. The damage — rifts, as they’re called — only occurs on the Surface, not on sky islands, much less since they’re protected by Her Grace’s power itself. It is almost impossible for a rift to open in a place so thoroughly blessed by Divinity. So why did this spirit come here?

For the second time in her existence, she doesn’t know the answer, even with supposedly all the knowledge in the world at her disposal.

Thus, for the second time in her existence, she asks.

“What brought you here?”

The question is perfectly phrased, intonated exactly how it is supposed to be, and she even wordlessly conveys the thoughts leading up to the inquiry so as to make it seem less out of the blue. And yet, it all feels so foreign coming out of her mouth.

She will have to practice asking questions more often, she decides. Once the Chosen Hero finds her, she cannot allow herself to be distracted from her duty just because she feels strange inquiring about something.

“Actually,” the yellow spirit says, “I was just wandering around exploring before I had to return to the Goddesses until I am needed again.” They jerk in a way Fi can only identify as an attempt at a shrug without actual shoulders. (Odd. Why would they try to imitate human mannerisms?) “So, to answer your question, I believe curiosity brought me here?”

Curiosity? Curiosity: an eager desire to know or learn something, often what does not concern one.

The gears turn furiously in her head.

“So you came upon me by accident?” she asks, only acknowledging with half a mind that the question already rolls off her tongue with more ease. She has far more important matters to focus on at the moment.

Because if their meeting did seem like an accident to them, then it was either organized in advance by the Golden Three in secret (slim chance, They do not tend to meddle even with Their own followers’ affairs), the spirit finding her was incredibly lucky, or…

…or Her Grace was wrong, and this isn’t as sure of a hiding place She thought it would be.

(What else has She been wrong about, then? “You’ll understand one day, Fi,” She had said. What if She was wrong back then too? What if she will never understand?)

(Does she want to understand?)

(No. She is but a spirit at the service of Her Grace. She does not have wants.)

“Well…” The yellow spirit floating in front of her looks almost sheepish as they trail off. “Not entirely.”

Fi gently prompts them to elaborate. She halts her racing mind, chiding herself for reacting before going over the facts logically. The information at her disposal is far too little yet for her to draw any accurate conclusions from. Besides, dwelling on Her Grace’s words is a waste of her time and energy seeing as what She had said is not relevant to her current situation in any way.

“The first time I stumbled across these sky islands — Skyloft, as I believe the humans call them? —” Fi gives a chime of affirmation “— really was an accident, while exploring after my friends and I had closed a rift, like I said. It’s always interesting to see how the world has changed while I’m slumbering.”

Explaining something not directly related to the topic, Fi notes. Yet another oddity the spirit seems to be mimicking humans in.

“The second time,” they continue, “I came to Skyloft on purpose, to watch the people living here again. Their behaviors are fascinating to observe.”

Ah, she supposes that’s one mystery solved. If they truly like studying people that much, they were bound to start copying their habits at some point. Still, what a strange hobby to have picked up for a spirit such as them.

“That’s when I realized there was another spirit on the islands beside myself. Your presence was very well concealed, however, so I needed to return a third time in order to find you.”

The roaring thoughts and doubts in her mind settle, worries appeased. She knows the Golden Three’s servants are powerful — they have to be, otherwise how would they be able to repair the damage caused by a primordial being? —, and if even such a spirit had difficulty discerning her presence, she calculates her hiding spot and method to be sufficiently secure until the Chosen Hero comes to claim the sword she guards after all.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, though,” they say, “what are you doing in such a place? It’s so hidden away, I doubt anyone comes here.”

And Fi… hesitates.

She shouldn’t. There really should be no doubt in her mind that she should refuse to answer that question. It is not her duty to satisfy the curiosity of this stray spirit, and her mission is much too important to be shared with anyone anyway. She should refuse to answer, and better yet, send the spirit away entirely, because their presence could potentially attract some unwanted attention to this place, which, no matter how unlikely, is to be avoided at all costs, in regard to how delicate her current task is.

And yet she hesitates. Moreover, she is inclined to answer truthfully, to continue this impromptu conversation.

She shouldn’t.

(No feelings, no wants. A spirit at the service of Her Grace.)

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” the yellow spirit says, making Fi aware of just how much time she paused to dwell on her response. “I was simply curious.”

(But maybe she can allow it this one time.)

“I cannot give you a full explanation at the moment,” she finally says, “but… I am waiting for someone. Someone important. And it is crucial that I and the sword I guard do not fall into the wrong hands until then.”

“Doesn’t it get boring to sit here with nothing but those fires to see around yourself?”

She admits she is a bit taken aback by the question, but she reminds herself that the spirit does know nothing about her. “I do not experience… boredom.” Or any other feelings, for that matter.

“And doesn't it get lonely?”

“Lonely?”

Lonely: a feeling of sadness because one has no friends or company.

She doesn't feel. Why would she feel lonely?

“Why would I feel lonely?”

The spirit does that strange attempt at a shrug again. “I don't know,” they say, “it just always seems so important for humans not to feel that way. I wondered whether spirits could feel it too.”

Fi hums. She should send them on their way now; she has indulged in this useless conversation for long enough.

As if reading her mind, they suddenly sigh. “I should probably leave. The Goddesses are surely waiting for me to return to Them.”

Still, they linger for some reason, looking thoughtful, and at this point, even Fi can only make guesses as to what is keeping them by her side. Seeming to have come to a resolution, they turn back towards her and say, “what’s your name?”

That is… something she did not expect, nor does she know how to reply to it. Not because she doesn’t understand the question, but rather because she doesn’t understand why they asked it.

Providing the person you are speaking with with your personal designation is a human custom. Non-mortal beings don’t have the habit of doing such things: if it is necessary to know the identity of a conversation partner, they will let you know — or, as is the case in 82.7% of such situations, they may be an already well-known deity, making an exchange of names an utter waste of time.

She doesn’t see how it would be useful for either of them to know of a way to designate the other, now. If anything, it would be more prudent not to share it.

(For some reason, it seems like prudence does its best to evade her today.)

“Fi. Fi is the name I was given,” she says.

“Nice to meet you, Fi,” they beam, and what a human thing to say that is. “I’m Tri.”

“I do not have the capability to fully understand the human spirit, Link… but now, at the end of my journey with you, as I prepare to sleep within the Master Sword forever, I experience a feeling I am unable to identify. I lack sufficient data to be sure of my conclusion, but I believe this feeling correlates closest to what your people call… happiness.”

She did not lie, back then. The sadness only settles in later.

At first, she solely focuses on making sure the binds imprisoning Demise are strong enough to hold him for eternity — even though she told Link she would be slumbering within the Sword. Sleep is relative for a spirit.

A part of her does sleep — she needs the energy gained from such an activity, after all. But another part of her stays vigilant, on the constant lookout to prevent any piece of Demise, any wisp of his Evil to leave her hold.

She knows it is futile. Of course she knows, she has all the knowledge in the world at her disposal. She knows his curse is too strong for her to even think about breaking alone.

(The sadness settles in later…)

“May we meet again in another life,” she had told Link, because there is a 97.1% chance of it happening even though they would all be better off if it wasn't.

She wishes—

She… wishes ?

Yes. She wishes it wasn't like it is. She wishes she were quicker and more insistent in telling Link to strike down Demise, to stop him from finishing his sentence.

She wishes she could have stayed by Link’s side. She wants to stay by Link’s side.

(The sadness settles in later…)

She is a spirit in service to Her Grace. She shouldn't have wants.

And yet she does.

She wants someone to hold her company. She doesn’t want to be alone. She doesn’t want to be lonely .

(The sadness settles in.)

“Fi?”

She hears the voice after a few decades of slumbering. It cuts right through the haze of sleep that separates her from the real world with a sense of purposefulness she hasn't heard in years. The knowledge alone that someone out there is searching for her is enough to prompt her to take a peek outside the Sword.

As expected, Tri is floating in front of her. She glances around, despite fully knowing Link wouldn't be there. She would sense him and besides, regular Hylians do not have the power to make themselves be heard by her while she slumbers.

(How many times has he visited her as she slept, she wonders? How many times has he talked to her, not knowing she couldn't listen?)

“Fi?”

She snaps back to reality and looks at Tri questioningly.

“Yes?” she asks, voice unusually tired and beaten. She performs a full-spirit scan of herself, yet she cannot find anything that could be at the origin of this anomaly.

“Oh, I apologize,” Tri says, floating a step away. “I wasn’t aware that I was bothering you in completing your task. I’ll leave.”

Don't go, don't go, I don't want to be alone.

“No,” she says, maybe a bit too eager. “You are not bothering,” she adds, now with more restraint.

You couldn’t be further from bothering.

There is a beat during which they both fall silent.

“Is there a particular reason you requested my presence?” she asks, very impersonal, because old habits die hard.

“Not really,” Tri admits, “I just couldn’t find you where you were last time, and I was curious as to where you ended up.”

They were curious. They haven’t changed. Fi feels her face contort in a strange manner. It feels like what she saw on Link’s face, sometimes. It feels like a smile.

Tri tilts to the side. “You feel… different,” they say, pause, and she can feel them prodding at her as if they’re assessing her current state. Then, more cautiously, they ask: “Is it really you, Fi?”

Something washes over her. Figuratively, that is. There is barely a 9% chance of any big enough amount of liquid entering the place she rests in for her to be able to qualify it as something literally washing over her.

The point is, she is submerged in an odd feeling that she cannot quite identify. She has never felt it before.

(She has never felt much of anything before. Before she met Link.)

The most accurate way she could designate it would be happiness, but the opposite. It is similar to what Link described when he was feeling sad…

…oh. The sadness settled in.

“It is,” she finally answers Tri.

“What happened, then, to make you change so much?”

“I met someone,” she says, and the breeze brings with it fragments of dirty blonde hair, impressions of deep blue eyes, and a ridiculous green cap that Link insisted he hold on to. Whether it was for sentimental reasons, because it was part of the official knight’s uniform, or just to make her go insane at its impracticality, she doesn’t know. There is a hollowness in her chest, but the memories manage to fill it with warmth somewhat. For a moment.

“He was the Chosen Hero I’d been waiting for, Link,” she continues, breaking out of the reminiscence. “He descended from the Skies to defeat Demise once and for all and finally end the war against Evil. He made the Surface safe again.”

“Oh, yes!” Tri says. “I saw some new settlements on my way here. I’ve been wondering how come the humans decided to live down here again, with all the monsters I saw around last time.”

Warmth blossoms in her chest, staying this time, and she smiles, she smiles because she knows Link is alright. She had hoped he would be able to move on and find a purpose in life, and now she has confirmation because she knows he has a leading role in the construction efforts, and she knows that makes him happy.

Because she knows him.

Tri looks at her oddly. “Are you alright? You’re doing something strange with your face. I’ve only ever seen it on humans.”

“I am more than alright, Tri,” Fi says, expression unchanging.

Tri studies her for a while. Their eyes narrow a tad before they slowly and carefully ask, “just what happened with this Chosen Hero, Fi?”

Her smile widens. “He taught me how to be human.”

Days pass, years, then centuries. Tri occasionally comes to visit her, when rifts appear and they have to come to mend them. They are the only one Fi speaks with.

She doesn't start conversations with any incarnations of her Master. She has neither the energy, nor the courage to do so. What would she even say? How would he react? He doesn't even remember her. He is a different person in all but the one thing that matters for him to be able to wield her: spirit.

It is best not thought about. He was always the brave one out of the two of them anyway — it is what he was born to be. And it is one of the many things she loves about him.

She hates seeing his spirit and courage being tested time and time again, to see him suffer across lifetimes, so she is determined to protect him at all costs. She is his servant, she is his sword, and the unique bond they share is something that does not change regardless of the years or his incarnation. It does not change whether he is skyward bound, adrift in time, or steeped in the glowing embers of twilight.

It doesn't change even when time itself splits, and Fi is left to experience three futures simultaneously.

But then, in one of the timelines, while she is hidden away and waiting for a version of her Master to claim her, the rifts appear. They are bigger and more intense than any she has seen before, and they swallow him just as he is about to find her. She does not see him again.

After a while, the rifts increase in size again. This time though, the change is so sudden and drastic that she barely manages to prevent it from consuming the Sword.

Then it stops. The rifts suddenly retreat, vanishing with the rest of her strength. She does not know what happened. Based on her calculations, there is a 68% chance the rifts disappearing had something to do with either the Chosen Hero or the Goddess Incarnate of this era. 23% that both of them were involved.

The remaining nine percent are of the Goddesses stopping the rifts. The probability of divine interference is normally well under one percent, but with such a powerful primordial being as Null as a foe… She just hopes her Master is alright.

Tri doesn't show up after that. If she concentrates, Fi can feel their presence in Hyrule every once in a while over the years, but they do not come near her location. Instead, they show up one day out of the blue, when she least expects it. Like they always do.

“Hello there, Tri,” she is the first one to greet, since Tri is unusually quiet. “Has something happened?” she asks despite herself because she has spent too much time with her compassionate Masters.

“I…” they trail off as their gaze settles deep within hers, and suddenly she can see a hint of something there that wasn't there before. Something beside curiosity. Tri is excited.

“Oh, Fi, so much has happened!”

And they go on to tell her the tale of a great adventure, of foes vanquished and people saved, of monsters discovered and places explored, of hardships faced and friendships forged — and at the center of it all, a young girl named Zelda.

Fi can feel the fondness rolling off of Tri in waves as they speak about the Goddess Incarnate. There is a silent adoration hiding behind their eyes as they talk about all they accomplished on their journey together, and Fi cannot help finding it all similar to her own story with her Master.

But Tri could never fully understand. They chose to be with the Goddess Incarnate and become her friend. For Fi, it was her duty that bound her to her Master originally, and while that does not make their friendship any less deep or meaningful, it simply isn’t the same.

If something happens to the Goddess Incarnate, Tri will not be at fault. If her Master gets hurt, not only does she fail as a friend, but as his sword and protector as well.

“Sorry I didn't come see you sooner,” Tri says once having finished her tale, “but the rare occasions I could get away from the watchful eyes of my Goddesses, I used to visit her.”

Ah, that makes sense. She has had her guesses before as to why Tri would enter Hyrule when she couldn't feel any rifts opening, but it is always better to know for sure.

“How come you are here now, then?” she inquires, and doesn't miss the fact that they seem to deflate at her question.

“You know, she was the one to teach me what ‘thank you’ means,” they not-so-subtly attempt at steering the conversation elsewhere. “An elderly sheikah lady had explained it to me, but it was only thanks to her and our journey that I truly felt its meaning — you understand the difference, right? Oh, if only you knew how much she taught me!” 

Their eyes sparkle in excitement once again, but it disappears just as fast as it has come, leaving behind nothing but sorrow.

“I miss her,” they suddenly say.

“Then why don't you visit her?” she insists, because Tri has the choice to do so. She does not. She is bound to the Sword, and even when her Master retrieves it, she cannot speak with him. Dissecting Demise particle by particle and dispersing it across the land to prevent him from collecting his consciousness again is eating up all her energy — not to mention the different iterations of Evil she helps seal through the ages.

And even if she were able to speak, she isn’t sure she would have the courage to do so, after all this time. He was always the braver one between the two of them, after all.

“I can't,” Tri says. “She passed away.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

...has so much time truly passed already? Has she really lost track of time’s passing to such an extent?

(Time’s passing… The Hero of Time passed away twice, as far as she knows. She was there for one of them. She was there, and she failed to protect him.

And the second time? She did not witness it. But she has seen enough of his fate beyond death to know it wasn't pleasant. She wishes she could have been there for him. Seeing him suffer always hurts her very soul, but at least she could have alleviated his burden. Make him feel less lonely. Talk to him, even. People on the brink of death, closer to the spirit world tend to be easier to connect to.

And yet, he was all alone. It is never good to die alone.)

“Were you there?” she asks.

“No,” they shake their head. “But I was told she passed peacefully in her sleep. She was old, they say.”

A beat.

“I don't know what she would look like, being old. I haven't visited in a long while.”

Fi understands. Her Master usually stumbles upon her as a child. A teenager, in better cases. And he parts with her soon after — a few years later, at most.

She never once saw who he grew into. Did he find another purpose in life? Or was being a hero all he could ever do, the role having been forced upon him too young for him to consider anything else? Did he settle down, or travel the roads for the rest of his life? Did he marry? Have a family? Was he happy?

She does not know.

She supposes Tri is luckier than her, in this sense. They were able to visit the Goddess Incarnate, seldom as it may have been. Those few glimpses into her life are more than she could ever dream of.

She envies them. But she also doesn't. She has long since made peace with this arrangement (she believes she has), and she does not wish to have to experience her grief all over again, like Tri does now.

“We last spoke more than twenty years ago,” they say, staring off into space. “I always made sure to tell her how grateful I was to have met her, and I did that time too, but it was so long ago…”

They raise their eyes to look into hers. “Do you think she believed I abandoned her?”

Spirits don't breathe, but Fi’s breath hitches in her throat. Something small and wet rolls down her cheek.

Does she… believe that?

She feels something. She has been trying to numb herself from the pain for so long, but those words somehow manage to resonate within her hollow chest.

She feels something. It is warm and cold and comforting and terrifying at the same time, and she cannot help the emotions flowing out of her eyes in the form of tears – tears, tears because she is sad, and it hurts. Seeing him each time hurts, because their bond hasn’t changed, and yet she feels further and further away from him with each one of his incarnations; seeing Tri go through the same thing she did hurts, because they deserve better than their best friend to be trapped in an infinite cycle of hatred and suffering; feeling tears — tears, actual tears! — roll down her cheeks hurts, because she would have never done it before meeting him, and yet she mourned, mourns, and will forever mourn a man that is not dead—

Loving him hurts, and yet she does it anyway, because how couldn’t she?

She feels something, and she decides to embrace it. She reaches out to Tri, who seems highly distressed at her sight, and smiles before pulling them close. They remain quiet for a few moments.

“What are you doing, Fi?” they ask after a while.

“It is a hug,” she simply states.

“I’m aware of that, but… why are you doing it with me? I’ve only ever seen it amongst humans when they were feeling down.”

“And you are currently grieving.”

A pause.

“They do it to comfort each other,” she explains. “It is what friends do.”

“Oh,” they say, but she can feel them melting into the embrace. “It feels nice.”

They fall silent.

“She did not,” Fi suddenly says.

“What?”

“Zelda,” she clears up, and the name feels strange on her tongue. When did she last say it out loud? When did she last say his name out loud? “She is wise. She knows better than to believe you abandoned her…"

“Just like Link knows better than it, too.”

I hope goes unsaid.

“Thank you,” Tri says, barely audible. They let themselves relax in her arms. Fi smiles.

And if she doesn't… her thoughts trail off, and a phantom shudder crawls along her spine.

Those like you... Those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero... They are eternally bound to this curse.

Her content smile falters just a bit. 

And if she doesn't, you can clear things up next time.