Hyrule's Requiem: Prelude
The First Symphony
Song III:
The wind sang so loudly in his ears it was deafening. Fi's song trilled faintly behind it, as did the notes of everything populating the sky, and the bird he was seated on was screeching along like a tone-deaf Hylian because why not.
The Hylian's song helped, a little. It was soothing, quiet. Not in any way he was familiar with, but something easy to focus on all the same. It would have been overpowering, if the Hylian hadn't constantly been talking, snapping him out of the trance every one of the songs kept lulling him into.
"Are you okay? You look like you're going to be sick. Is it the flying?"
"…Noise." Sheik gasped, wincing as he looked up at the sun and was blinded for his trouble. He pressed his face into the Hylian's shoulder, his right hand rising to knot in his hair, pressing tightly against his ear.
The Hylian shifted, twisted himself around to press Sheik's uncovered ear to his chest, and Sheik couldn't help but freeze, absolutely still beneath his touch.
"Not much longer. Hold on, alright?" He could hear the puzzlement in the Hylian's voice, feel his questioning gaze on the top of his head like a stone—but he didn't ask.
Sheik swallowed hard, choking back the music as it burned in his throat like fire.
He should have been asleep, for ages yet to come. He didn't appreciate this awakening, seeing the result of every sacrifice he had ever made so starkly. So much betrayal.
The Hylian hummed, suddenly, and Sheik opened his eyes to see the Hylian grinning at his bird.
So strange, to see what he'd only heard of made reality. The Hylians, their Loftwings. Skyloft itself.
Fi reawakened.
The Hylian shifted, and Sheik let his gaze fall to the clouds below them for a split second.
The wall of clouds below them opened into a slowly spinning circle, glowing faintly with a deep green light. The bird began to circle, and the Hylian slipped an arm around Sheik's waist as he swung his leg over the side of the bird.
Holy fuck, no—
"I screamed the first time, too. Hold on tightly." Sheik could feel his eyes grow to the size of plates, but he only had enough time to latch onto the Hylian as tightly as he could before they slipped off the bird and plummeted to their deaths.
He didn't scream, as they fell—wind screaming past them, roaring so loudly that he could finally hear himself think, blood soaking the Hero's tunic where Sheik's face was pressed, pain blossoming from his tongue as he bit through it, stomach somersaulting wildly as he dropped.
He grabbed what little magic he had available, threading it below them as deftly as he could just in case.
He had the utmost faith in the Three and should they have asked him to fall without taking any precautions, he would have done so. But this was entirely different, and whether Fi and her insane Hylian thought it safe or not, he was not prepared to die.
He couldn't. He had millennia left before he was supposed to live again. Dying before then…
Link pressed a hand to the back of his head, pressed him closer to his chest.
Sheik let him. It felt like they fell for an eternity—and right when he was shaking so badly his hands were slipping free from around the Hylian, the Hylian shifted and Sheik screamed as they were jerked up violently.
He opened his eyes—he hadn't even realized they were closed—and saw green, behind the Hero. Heard the threads of music he had not heard since before he went to sleep.
"…The Temple? But…" He let his words trail off, twisting his head around and looking.
There it was. Home. Old, falling apart. Not even a fraction of what it once had been. And below them, the pit, black marks scarred into the earth at its bottom.
Straining, heaving, desperate, the demon' song was…heavy. Quieted everything else, save the Hylian's. Save Fi's.
"He's woken. Already? Then…this is the Prelude." He craned his head up, saw the Hylian holding a white cloth, the blue Loftwing stitched onto it absolutely blazing with Hylia's magic.
"No." Fi said, obscuring his vision as she appeared.
"…If I woke, I woke for a reason. I won't return until I've discovered what that is." Sheik murmured.
Ironically, the Requiem was quietest here, he thought. Where it had begun, where it would end.
They landed gently, though Sheik found that he couldn't stand by himself when he stepped back from the Hylian.
"Are you alright?"
"Shaking. I refuse to do that again. Ever."
The Hylian chuckled, one arm keeping Sheik steady as he stuffed the sail cloth away unceremoniously.
It was beautiful in a terrible way. The Temple. The damage it had sustained was horrendous—its sprawling corridors, massive chambers and great courtyards, the sanctums his people had trained and learned and worshipped in for ages were…gone. There were some foundations still peeking through a mess of plant growth, stray stones with carvings worn smooth and faint by time, but…
"How did you know it's…that it's woken before?" He asked quietly, and Sheik looked up, surprised.
"…Anyone could see the damage done to the bindings."
And that was true, but not the truth. The Hero shifted uncomfortably, gaze dark as he gazed at the chasm, at what lay buried there.
And then he nodded, sharply, and lifted his arm, pointing. Sheik stepped back quickly, looking up, and went still.
The only part of the Temple still standing loomed before them, fragments of seals glittering on its stone door and the sleep of the ages blanketing the place like night.
"The Temple's guardian is in there. She'll probably be able to help you. And…ignore Groose."
With that, the Hylian stepped forward, and Sheik had to hurry to catch up to him.
He was going to ask what he meant, but the moment they stepped into the Temple, he understood.
The other Hylian was massive, a great hulking monolith of muscle and red hair, and he ran up to them, eyes wide and anxious.
Sheik stared at him in wonder, even as the man eyed him warily.
This was the result of the Symphony. This…
"Master Sheik, are you alright?" He looked up, surprised, at Fi. And then nodded, lips twitching.
"…I didn't think I'd get to see this. What it would end up as. Shouldn't, but…" He trailed off, shrugging.
The man looked at Fi uneasily, then turned his attention to her master.
"Who's this?" He demanded, and Fi folded her arms across her chest irritably.
"It is nothing impressive."
"You say that because you live it, Fi." Sheik countered, mimicking her by crossing his arms as well. She didn't look amused in the slightest, but her Hylian did, staring at the two of them.
It took a moment for Sheik to realize the Hylian was waiting for Sheik to answer the red-headed Hylian, not answering for him.
That was…surprising. Not what he had expected.
"No one of consequence. I am not here to interfere with your quest. There is…someone here, he said I should speak with."
"Grannie? Why does—look, no one's going to get through me unless I know you're not with that freak!"
Sheik blinked in surprise, startled at the vehemence in his voice. The protectiveness.
And…who did he mean by that?
A gauntleted hand grabbed his shoulder, and he cast a sharp look towards Fi's Hylian.
"Do you think I'd have brought him here if he was dangerous?" He said, voice cool and sharp. A staring match ensued, but eventually the larger Hylian looked away and jerked his head behind him.
"She's where she's usually at."
Fi led the way through the cavernous room, Sheik to busy looking around to do much more than trail after her.
It was a little ironic that the least impressive room in the entire complex was the only one to survive. It pained him, the loss. He'd given everything for the Requiem. For Hyrule. For Hylia. He'd just expected the loss to be on his end, not his people's.
"Impa."
The name startled him out of his thoughts and his head snapped up, entire body freezing as he saw her. Old, wizened, draped in cloth and strings of beads, she lifted her head at the Hero's voice. She stilled when she saw him, and Sheik forced himself to breathe.
"Sheik." She breathed, his name barely audible in the chamber. No song hummed beneath her voice, ached in the air around her. She was a black hole, a vacant chasm. She had never been part of the Requiem.
"You woke me?" He asked, and his voice shook. She was still for a moment, and then shook her head.
"I thought of it."
"That would be enough, in this lifetime." He whispered, and she bowed her head.
Impa needed his help, for some reason. Something had gone wrong. And in thinking of him, imbued with the Will of Her Grace, she may have destroyed the Requiem itself.