Chapter Three
When Link finally returned to his body, the sky was black, the moon having set. Only the gentle glow of blue nightshade at the base of a tree nearby and the distant torches of Rito Village illuminated his vision. That feeling, the one from Faron, hit him with the force of a Goron, threatening to drag him into a rage.
Link had known, somewhere in his mind, that there were...things between him and Revali. He had sensed that the moment he first uncovered that memory on the landing. He sensed it when he reached Medoh. He sensed it even more when he defeated Windblight and came face to face with him. It was as though he had been cataloging pieces of an enormous puzzle, but none of them made any sense until those last few pieces had been added.
There is a reason Zelda sent me—but if you don't remember, then never mind.
Revali had been counting on that conversation. What it contained, Link still wasn't completely sure, but that reality struck him to the core. Despite his thousands of injuries, this ached in his chest in a way he had never felt.
Link still felt the same way he felt back then. The memory helped but he knew he would've gotten there eventually. Something like that didn't just fade. And as much as it terrified him, he couldn't let it go.
Could Revali? He thought about their interactions since being returned from the dead, trying to see it through the lens of what he knew now and...it hurt to think about. Link could see that familiar expression, the same one Revali wore in the meadow of his memories and how it had slipped further and further away since Link disappeared into the wild.
So that was what Link did to hurt him. Even though it wasn't his fault, Link couldn't help but hate himself for it.
What did he do now? Find Revali and say, "I remember the thing between us now and we're supposed to talk about it"? What if Revali hadn't been talking about anything romantic? What if he had just been wishing to avoid the whole, "We've had our differences in the past but now we're best friends and I want you to know I cherish our friendship before we die"? Those were two completely different conversations. How would he even bring it up next time he saw Revali?
He didn't have to wait long.
A telltale whoosh of wings snapped his attention upward and he watched as Revali tossed up the lantern he'd been holding with his foot just as he landed, only to catch it effortlessly in his hand. Link was annoyed, mostly because he could tell Revali didn't have to think about the motion—he did it all the time, probably. Link doubted there was a single equivalent he had to something like that. There was nothing about him that had ever exactly communicated "effortless."
"I figured you would be avoiding me, not coming to Warbler's Nest," he said, furrowing his brows. He opened his beak to add whatever at-arm's-length thing he wanted to add next, but he seemed to really look at Link and paused, unsure. "Are you okay?"
Not realizing he'd been in something of a daze, Link cleared his throat and said, "Um, yeah. Why?"
"Oh, I don't know, you're sitting alone, in the middle of the night, in this meadow, crying?" And he said it in a soft way that made it clear Revali was trying to be gentle about delivering the news that he was—
He was crying? He wiped his hands over his numb cheeks, finding them saturated. "Oh."
"Do you...are your memories back?"
There was a timbre to his voice that Link hadn't heard before but in his memories. It was soft and hopeful and he was suddenly stampeded by that feeling again.
"Just the ones from...from this meadow. I think."
Revali stood there for a moment, in a mask of concentration, likely analyzing the situation for some mode of escape or…
He set the lantern down on the grass and sat beside him in a motion that felt so surreal after viewing the past as simply a spectator. And it also felt so familiar, as though there was some part of Link that had never really forgotten the solace they used to find together in that meadow.
"How did you even know to come here?" Revali asked.
"I asked Lady Impa." Link paused for a moment, fixing the Rito with what was assuredly a glare. "Since you made no effort to tell me about it."
There was a long, frustrated sigh and then, "Look, for just a moment, think from my perspective. We kept each other sane, here. For almost a year, too. We were close. And then, after I die, I don't see you for a hundred years. You show up, free my spirit, but you have no idea who I am. You don't remember anything about our past, so it was easy to just…"
"Push me away," Link provided.
"Only while I was dead. It was easier to take that option. I didn't expect to be brought back. I suppose I thought that if Hylia was willing to resurrect me, surely she would have returned your memories at some point. And then...you just went back out into the wilds. I thought that maybe it was just your way of coping with the battle or the return of all those memories. I wasn't going to push you—I did plenty of that a hundred years ago." Revali stopped speaking for a minute, turning to finally meet Link's gaze. "I started to convince myself that you remembered but just had no interest in remaining friends."
"Because you're an idiot," Link admonished.
Revali rolled his eyes. "You're the idiot that didn't tell anyone he still didn't remember anything."
"Everyone knows I'm an idiot."
"You're not actually an idiot," Revali amended. "You're just socially inept."
Link raised his eyebrows and pointed at himself. "Me? I'm the socially inept one here?"
He was loving every second of the banter...but the smile slid off Revali's face and he looked away.
"You don't remember everything, though." Buried in those words was a sadness that rang within himself as well. Link knew that was true and it hurt so deeply, he was breathless for a moment.
"We were supposed to...have a conversation after Ganon was defeated," Link said quietly. There were those softer words that threatened to reveal all and he wasn't going to stop them.
Revali took his a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face and shaking his head. "No."
Anger began to build in his chest. "Don't give me that. We both died. We're lucky to even be alive and you're saying no?"
"You don't remember everything, Link. Our whole existence wasn't in this meadow. We can't have this conversation when you've only regained a handful of memories." His tone was flat and he didn't look at Link, which just further incensed him.
"Oh, so now I'm just being given another quest? First it was defeat Ganon, now it's go collect more memories? It's not like collecting spirit orbs, you know! How many hoops do you want me to jump through just to have just one conversation about—"
"You're not the only one that went to Impa, Link! She told me about the fountain. This isn't a quest. This is your life. Don't you want to remember?"
This information stopped the next few words in their tracks, his mouth snapped shut and he stared at the dark grass between them. As much as he didn't want to admit it, Revali was right about at least one thing; he did want to remember. So badly. And not because of Revali's ridiculous argument that they couldn't have the conversation without the prerequisite memories. But because not knowing had been haunting him since the day he awoke and if going to the castle was the only thing standing between him and his past…
"I'm...I'm terrified of that place, Revali. I can't even, even look at it on the horizon. Every time I do, I—"
It was humiliating to say, but Link ground the words out anyway. He had to ensure Revali understood his refusal to go back, that it had nothing to do with the conversation and whatever hope it held. That, and he knew...he just knew that the longer he held in that fear, the bigger it would grow. If there was anyone in the world he was willing to be vulnerable with, it was Revali. He could sense that that had been true for over a hundred years.
"I haven't stepped foot on Medoh since I came back," Revali told him, voice so quiet and low. His eyes held a kind of pain that made Link want to look away, as though he was seeing something he wasn't supposed to be watching. "I can't look at her, either. It's harder when I fly. She and I still have our bond so she...still calls out to me. But I can't go up there. Every time I even entertain the idea I...I begin to panic."
It looked like it took effort, but Revali forced himself to meet Link's eyes, his expression so open Link's brain stopped working for a moment. "If I were you and regaining my memories were on Medoh...I'd be up there in a heartbeat. It would be worth the pain."
"Revali," he replied, shaking his head, "of course it's worth it.
"Then let's go."
"You'll go with me?"
The Rito gave him the most incredulous glare he had ever seen in his life and he nearly laughed at it. "Are you kidding me? You honestly think I wouldn't go with you? Never mind, you are an idiot."
Revali was clearly trying to make him laugh and it worked. But the laughter came out nervous. He could already feel the anxiety coiling in his gut—was he really going to do this? Of course he was. And he was already shaking. He could already see the castle in his mind, but it was the castle still possessed by Ganon, not the restored one that stood today. It was like a dark imprint stained into his memories, the roar of Ganon building in his ears.
A warm wing came around Link's shoulders and he jumped, eyes on Revali and meeting the warmest expression he had ever seen. The sharp quality his eyes always held was dulled in a way he didn't expect and they held him hostage for a few moments.
"It's going to be fine, Link."
"I'm going to—I don't think you understand how badly I'm going to—"
"I'll send word to the Queen so arrangements can be made. No one will see you other than us."
"But I don't want people to see me like that."
"Since when am I people?" he stressed. "Even with the few memories you've gleaned from the meadow, surely I'm above that title."
"I don't want you or anyone else to see me whittled down to a, a—"
"A child?" Revali finished for him. "You're not a child. You're a soldier. Soldiers come home from war and they aren't the same. That's nothing new. You have seen more than any soldier alive today. I think you have every right to panic."
Those soft words were beginning to untie all the knots in his chest and he held on to every syllable, taking the boon that was being offered. Link closed his eyes and focused on the warmth radiating from the arm around him.
"Do you trust me?"
The question threw him off for a moment and his eyes fluttered open, fixing the Rito with a confused look. And he actually looked uncertain. How could Revali be uncertain of that?
"Of course I do."
Revali smiled. Had Link ever seen him really smile? "Alright. Let's go rest. We'll head to the castle in the morning."
For at least two distinct reasons, Link didn't sleep well. The first, and most obvious, was that he was petrified of what the next day would bring. The second was being in Revali's house.
It was unique in that it had walls—he had it built high above the village where the chill winds were too merciless for the typical, open living of the average Rito. And that was likely for good reason when one considered just how private Revali was.
He was submitted to a more concentrated dose of the warm, alpine scent that seemed to follow Revali around and breathing it in all night did nothing to calm Link's mind. In fact, his mind wandered all night, far too aware of the Rito sleeping on the other side of the room with nothing but two curtains separating them. The few hours he did manage were full of vague dreams; muffled words, the feel of smooth feathers and soft down between his fingers, and the color of champion blue.
Revali woke before him and returned with breakfast by the time Link was up and packing his gear. They ate in silence—not uncomfortable silence, but certainly the distracted kind. Link managed a few bites but his stomach twisted around so many times, he couldn't even lift his spoon.
As they prepared to leave, Link pinned the ornament for the headdress into his hair, feeling the familiar warmth of the cold resistance spell activating. When he glanced up, he realized he was being stared at. It was a critical gaze, however, one Link wasn't so sure he wanted to be on the receiving end of.
"Nekk made that armor?" he asked.
Link nodded.
"Hm." Revali gave his armor one last frown, shook his head, and stepped out into the walkway.
Why he had an issue with Link's armor, he had no idea. He was too anxious to pry, however. They descended the village, people wishing them good luck in their travels, seeming to be equally pleased to see both Revali and Link. He idly wondered what the rumor mill was like in Rito Village. He doubted Revali cared—Link certainly didn't.
When they reached the edge of the village, the bridges ahead of them, Revali turned and asked, "Alright, how do you want to do this?"
"This?"
"Travelling. What will be easier for you? We could warp there with the Slate or, if that's an overload, we could travel normally. We can fly or you can take your horse. You call the shots."
"Uh, I...I don't know. All of it is terrible," Link replied, as honestly as he could. He could feel his hands already beginning to shake.
"Will the Slate transport two people?"
"Yeah, if you're holding it as well." Zelda had been itching to perform some tests on it. Link let her do all the testing she wanted after her coronation, to make it up to her for not attending. He really needed to apologize to her if he survived the freak out ahead of him.
"Is there a shrine near the castle?"
"By the docks." The words came out so quiet, he had to repeat himself in a louder voice.
"Okay. The guards know to clear people out the moment they see us. It will just be us until we get to the west dungeon. Zelda will have already found the fountain, I'm sure."
Link nodded, mouth clamped shut. His heart was already crashing in his chest, the rush of adrenaline in his ears making his mouth go dry. He tugged off the Snowquill armor, predicting his panic would overheat him anyway despite the approach of fall.
"Are you ready?"
He wanted to say something funny, but no force in Hyrule could've pried open his jaw, so he simply nodded again. Sheikah Slate in hand, he selected the appropriate shrine as Revali held the other side of it. And then they dis—
—appeared at the shrine under the great shadow of the castle. For a moment, they simply stood there. Link didn't move; he just stared up at the hulking mass, taking in each graceful line, each turret, each curve of ornamentation. Objectively, it was a very handsome piece of architecture, perhaps more beautiful than it was pre-Calamity. And he could almost convince himself that his fear was unfounded and he had simply built it up in his mind.
But then the sunshine dimmed and red and gray smoke began to fill the air. He was abruptly immobilized, as if an ice lizalfos had spat and entombed him in ice. His eyes darted around, desperately trying to see past what he knew wasn't real. But the vision wouldn't budge, so he just shut his eyes tightly.
"Let's go, Link. It'll be better once you're inside." Revali's voice was gentle and encouraging. Link felt so guilty that it wasn't enough. Because it should be enough. There was a warm wing around him again, nudging him forward, and that heat was enough to melt the ice. "You'll have to open your eyes, you know. You're going to trip."
He nodded, the motion anything but controlled. When he opened his eyes, he still saw the miasma that once surrounded the castle. "I—I still see the—"
"But it's not real," Revali reminded him, pulling him forward, off the pedestal of the shrine. "It's just your mind playing tricks. Let's get inside."
Link felt disconnected from his body, merely a ghost being guided by Revali. He wished ghosts had no need for air; he could vaguely hear his labored breaths, rattling in his lungs like an elder at death's door. Not a healthy twenty-year-old.
He felt pathetic and feeble. In that moment, he wished so desperately that he hadn't come. That he wasn't dissolving into a shivering coward. That he was strong enough to fight the fear and the hallucinations that filled his every sense—the idle roar of Malice, the smoking air, the thick scent of sulfur and death, the whirring hum of possessed guardians, the snorts and growls of the beasts that watched the castle's borders…
There was a piercing ring in his ears, the same sensation he received after suffering the kick-back of a bomb detonated too close or taking a club to the skull. Wherever he was, it was dim, with no recollection of his arrival. It was damp and dark and he knew, somewhere in his panic-addled mind, that he needed to sit before he passed out.
Sliding down a wall, he clamped his head between his hands and pressed tightly, as though the pressure would force the shrill sound out of his head. Somewhere, lost in it all, he knew a voice was speaking to him, and he could feel the outline of feathers brushing his arms.
"Focus on my voice." The worried tone shoved its way through the gale in his mind and he knew it was Revali. "Link, can you hear me?"
He did as the voice asked, focusing on his hands and where they were attempting to meld with his skull, forcing himself to nod. Yes. He could hear.
"We are in one of the tunnels now. You're safe. The battle was two years ago. Don't fight it again. Don't let that beast haunt you anymore. It's gone now. The kingdom is safe. Thanks to you. Now believe me when I say you're going to be fine—just breathe."
Each word drew him further and further out of the frenzied knot in his mind. This was Revali speaking to him. This was Revali telling him what he needed to hear. This was Revali supporting him, like he had done in the meadow 103 years ago. He needed to hang onto that voice, that comfort, that promise. Revali never broke his promises.
He broke only one, a small voice provided, buried somewhere in his panic. But there was no time to analyze it now.
"I—hate that this fi-fight did this to me," he stammered, the sound foreign to his own ears. "I-I can't make it stop."
"And that's okay, Link. You have to let go of it, not stop it."
"I can't—"
"Yes you can. You can do this. Just listen to my voice and breathe."
Revali started reciting something in a language Link was unfamiliar with. It had a strange cadence to it, punctuated with clicks of his beak every so often, deliberate enough that Link had to assume it was part of the language itself.
And just focusing on that much cleared his mind enough to take a few deep, shuddering breaths. His eyesight was blurry, although his current view was of his knees and Revali's chest, where he was crouched in front of Link.
Let go. That's what Revali told him to do. A faint memory teased his mind, nothing like his normal recovery of memories, but just a few sentences…
"I wanted to fight Medoh at first. Her presence...well, she is a piece of machinery. Yet there was still a quality to her, as though she was a person. I have never been the metaphysical type—you won't find me praying or contemplating anything mystical. I prefer empirical evidence. I'm sure you have noticed that by now."
There was an impression of a short laugh. Who it came from, Link wasn't sure, but perhaps it had been both of them.
"That was what made it so challenging, however. She was insistent, like a non-stop knocking on the door of my mind. It drove me mad for the first few days. I was becoming discouraged after the first week. I think the Elder could tell I was at a bit of a loss. So he told me to...let go."
"Let go?" That was Link's voice, strangely disembodied in his own head. He could vividly remember saying it, though.
"I was approaching my connection with Medoh like I approach everything—endless dedication and hours of practice. I don't really back down. From anything. But that was exactly what I had to do in the case of Medoh. I had to back down and just...let it happen. I had to let go of control, something I don't do very well."
Revali was still speaking, in a soothing way that felt familiar to him. Had he spoken in this language for Link in the past? He studied the lines of his armor, the swirled contours of the chest plate, the straps that went from it to the pauldrons, and the light blue feathers that hung from them. All of it was perfectly crafted and Link knew, somehow, that Revali had made it himself. Another snippet of memory returned. Hopefully everything else would follow if he could pick himself up from the floor.
"What are you saying?" Link asked, voicing coming out as just above a whisper.
"It's the original language of the Rito. It's been a little lost over the generations but the tribe I was born in spoke it exclusively. I was reciting an old story told to me by my father. I still remember it."
"This isn't the first time you've told me, is it?" he asked, pleased that his voice only shook a little.
"Once. Before the journey to Mount Lanayru." Revali paused. "How are you feeling?"
Link finally removed his hands from his head, palms sweaty and hair damp. He could still hear a slight ring, but it was manageable. When he lifted his head and met Revali's gaze, he saw a tenderness there that…
They were more than friends. Of course they were. If only he remembered just what they were, though.
There was a pain in the Rito's expression, as though he didn't like what he saw on Link's face. It seemed to be an involuntary motion as he brushed Link's hair back from where it stuck to his forehead, the feathery soft sensation of his fingers coaxing his eyes shut for a moment. He wanted to focus on that feeling, what that motion meant, what could be waiting for him after his memories returned.
But there was no telling, Link reminded himself. He could be reading everything wrong. With his current memories...did he really know Revali? What if Rito friendships were different? Could Link be any further out of his element?
"Awful. But...you helped. A lot. Thank you," Link finally replied, forcing his eyes open, dismayed to see Revali had moved back a little. Perhaps he thought he'd overstepped his boundaries in some way.
"Then let's get you to the fountain and then out of this castle. As much as I commend you for facing this foe...you look very pale."
Link let out a frail-sounding laugh—but it was a laugh nonetheless and that had to count for something. Revali helped him up, keeping a wing around his shoulders as they made their way down the small, dimly lit tunnel. He had no idea what part of the castle they were in anymore, but that was fine with him. It only made it easier to pretend he wasn't in the castle, but rather some other tunnel, halfway across the kingdom for all he knew.
As the minutes passed, Link found a little more of his strength with each step. Perhaps it was enough to hide the evidence of his freak out from Zelda…
Oh, who was he kidding? She was so fluent in reading bullshit, there wasn't any point in trying.
And speaking of Zelda, they rounded a corner and there she was. She sat on a large boulder, surrounded by what Link began to realize was debris. and just a few paces from a large, rough doorway. The air was still hazy from what he assumed was the result of a bomb detonation, but that didn't stop her from reading an old book laying open in her lap.
Her aquamarine eyes snapped up at them from her book and emotion filled her gaze, emotion that was almost too unbearable for Link to see. She was on her feet and three steps later, hugged him so tightly, it was uncomfortable. But then, it was comfortable. It was a hug that said so much: I understand, it's okay, I know.
She would say it too, though, if he knew anything about her.
"Link, I'm so sorry," she said in a soft voice. "I didn't know. And this whole time I've been so...so…mean to you about not coming here."
"It's okay, I didn't tell you. It's my fault." He squeezed back, as if to ensure his words made it past the skin. Because it wasn't her fault and it was his. She still blamed herself for so much—he refused to allow her this too.
Zelda pulled away, gazing at him with so much sadness, he had to avert his eyes. "You've been suffering these past two years and none...of us knew it. I should've known. I should've pestered you more, should've, I don't know, interrogated you."
"Zelda…" But there was emotion tugging at his throat and if he kept speaking, he would choke.
"You really haven't uncovered any other memories? Other than the ones from the pictures in the Sheikah Slate?" Perhaps it was being Queen, but Zelda had learned when to leave a topic alone and handled it with grace.
"A couple more. But that's it."
She took a deep breath. "Well, let's see if this works."
They followed her through the opening, a sizable rock nearly colliding with his head as it fell. Revali looked unhappy about it, seemed to almost open his beak to likely make a comment to the Queen about the hazards of explosives even after said explosion, but appeared to think better of it.
The corridor was dark, only lit by a dim light ahead. The air was stale and damp, sending a shiver through Link that almost convinced him to pull his snowquill armor back on. As they approached the light, it became clear that the light was coming from the water itself.
The pool of water was perhaps knee-deep, crystal clear, and luminescent. A handful of fairies fluttered about and Link wondered how on earth they got there. A quick inspection of the stone walls and floors revealed no openings. Stood around the pool itself were a series of fine marble pillars, all joined by one circular architrave at the top.
Link had never been the type to sense things. He was foremost a warrior. The whole sensing energy bit was mostly Zelda's thing, but there was something about the room that felt warm and...safe. There was nothing he could see to suggest it, but somewhere within himself, he knew it.
"It's...it's beautiful," Zelda said, voice hushed through the hands that covered her mouth in awe. "The texts say that the fountain has been here for a millennia, that at some point, the Royal Family built the castle atop it to protect it."
"Or hoard it," Revali provided.
Zelda rolled her eyes at him. "This isn't a history lesson on the troubled past of my ancestors. Clearly, at some point, someone sealed it. A very long time ago, too. I have to assume the Sheikah were somehow involved—I mean, how else would Impa know abo—"
"Zelda," Link interrupted, giving her a pained expression, "I would really love to get my memories back and leave the castle. I've had...enough excitement for one day, okay?"
She gave a faintly sheepish smile. "Sorry. You know how I love history. From what I have read, it heals all wounds of any kind. The subject just lays in it and must let go of all worldly burdens."
"Let go…" Link repeated, thinking of the memory fragment he had received amidst his breakdown. He found Revali's eyes, the ethereal glow of the pool turning the green into a heavenly emerald. "Like you did with Medoh."
Revali gave him a bewildered expression. "I didn't tell you that in the meadow."
"I don't know where you told me that, but I half-remembered it when I was...when you told me to let go. Do you think it's the same?"
His eyes wandered away in thought. "I really don't know. Perhaps?" There was a pause and Revali met his gaze once more. "Did it work when I told you to let go?"
Link nodded.
"Then I will remind you once you're in there," he said with a smirk. It was meant to be reassuring and it was.
He turned to Zelda and asked, "Any idea how long I need to stay in there?"
She bit her lip and stared at the pool in thought. "One of the accounts claimed that a subject with a mortal wound spent a whole day in the pool. In your case…" her green eyes shifted back to him, "I can only guess. It's not that your mind is damaged—it's just blocked. The memories are still there."
"How do you know?"
Zelda gave him the kind of smile that a silly question would earn. "Because many have come back to you, whether triggered by location or words. You were held in stasis for a hundred years, Link. I think your memories never left that stasis."
"But then...that means there's nothing to heal. If there's no damage and this pool is meant for healing—"
"Link," Revali cut in, "just get in the pool. It's still worth a try."
Zelda nodded. "There is nothing to lose. I know you; you've always been a glass half-empty kind of person. Because you don't want to get your hopes up."
"Zelda, c'mon, ow, " he complained. Never afraid to point out people's flaws, Zelda. Perhaps because she had had one hundred years to make peace with her own.
"I am just reminding you that it's okay to hope. And if it doesn't work, we'll find a different solution." There was a promise in her voice that made him want to squirm. Why, he didn't know. Or she was right about his pessimistic worldview. And he'd challenge anyone who could blame him for it, after all he'd endured.
The waters of the pool were warm, deliciously warm and inviting. Link could feel the sensation of water but his clothes remained dry. Gingerly, he sat down on the tiled floor, the water lapping at his waist. It was the strangest sensation, almost like the water was bubbling around him yet there was no evidence of it. He cupped his hands and brought the water closer to his face, spying some glittery substance floating over his palms.
Link glanced back at Zelda and Revali, giving them a shrug—he wasn't sure what was supposed to happen, but aside from the weird feeling, there seemed to be nothing happening. Zelda approached the edge of the pool, crouching down to examine the water.
"Perhaps you should lay down. Memories are stored in your head, you know." Zelda gave him a smirk.
"Karma is real, you know," he snipped back, hardly meaning it and pleased when she laughed.
Link felt silly, but he did as she asked. It was an awkward sort of depth where he half-laid on the floor and half-floated on the surface. Staring at the ceiling in a pool of water reminded him painfully of how he had woken three years ago, so he shut his eyes and tried to focus on the gentle wave his movement had caused.
And he laid there for a while, waiting as patiently as he could. He almost wished he'd just fall asleep because that would least be something.
"Let go, Link." Revali's voice was so soft, he almost doubted if he heard it. Link's eyes fluttered open and locked with Revali's and...he looked beautiful in the aura of white the pool emitted. It shined on his feathers, casting them in a blue-gray hue, and lit his eyes up in a way that made Link stare. He probably could for hours if given half the chance. "You have to let go of that control. Like I did when I bonded with Medoh."
Like I did with us.
Where had that come from? Link racked his brain, frantically trying to find the source but losing its trace immediately. Was it a memory? Or was it just his mind wishing for...for what?
"Link, close your eyes and let go," Revali ordered, tone exasperated but gentle.
So he did. He shut his eyes and tried to think of a time he let go. Accepting spirit orbs—he let go then, allowing it into what he presumed was his heart. The first time he jumped off the Great Plateau with his new paraglider—he had been absolutely terrified he'd just plummet to the earth below.
Everything around him was silent, then. He couldn't feel the water anymore. He couldn't feel anything anymore. Link was just sort of...there. Wherever that was. There was a peaceful nature to it, though, and he waited.
For what? What was he waiting for? For his whole life to pour into his head in one instant?
No.
No?
This is not the way.
Why not?
When Link tried to move his body, planning to stretch out his arm to reach for whoever was speaking to him, he was shoved from that placid darkness. He gasped back into reality, sitting up so fast he felt dizzy. His arm was extended in front of him, still reaching…
"Link! Are you alright?" Zelda asked, voice a little frantic.
He stared at his own arm, watching it tremble for a moment, and then let it fall. He wasn't sure how...but he knew what that voice meant. Anguish filled him, threatening another breakdown, so he pressed his face into his hands, as if that would stave off the tears.
"Are your memories back? Did it work?" Revali demanded.
"I heard a voice," he said, hating the way his words broke.
"What did it say?" Zelda was growing so impatient, she waded through the pool and crouched in front of him. "Link?"
"No. This is not the way," he recited.
They all fell silent. None of them really knew what to say. And the more moments that passed, the more pressure built up in his chest. It was like anger, but it was also like sorrow. Or maybe it was like fear; fear that he would never regain his life and he had hoped for nothing. Soon enough, he could no longer sit still.
Link rose from the pool and left. Although their voices were muffled, Revali and Zelda's words were carried by the echo within the tunnel.
"I'm so sorry, Revali."
"Don't be. It's not your fault."
"Stay with him. Don't let him—"
"What makes you think I have any say in what he does? He doesn't remember."
"Then—"
The remainder of their conversation was lost. Link could feel the flow of fresh air and followed it. When he found his way out, the afternoon sun blinded him for a moment...and then the air turned smokey again as he remembered where he was.
The castle. The failure in the fountain would only make this worse, he was sure. He scrubbed at his eyes because maybe, somehow, he could scrape that ugly filter from his vision. And when he opened them, everything would look normal. He wouldn't be terrified of a castle, his memories would be back, and he could enjoy a peaceful life as the Hero of Hyrule.
"Link. Link, wait." It was Revali, voice on-edge in a way he seldom heard. "Let me get you out of here."
"Because you're worried I'll run off into the woods again?" Link shouted, opening his eyes to see nothing had changed—he was still terrified of a castle, his memories were still gone, and there was no life of peace waiting for him. "Maybe I will! It's easier than being reminded that I'm only half a person!"
There was only pain in Revali's expression as he approached Link slowly, like a cornered animal he hated to capture. "You're not half a person, Link."
"You're right—I'm not a person at all. I'm just a Hylian chosen to save a kingdom. That's it. Job's over. Why I thought I'd be allowed anything else, I don't even know." Link knew he couldn't stand there much longer. The fear that had consumed him earlier was closing back in and he had to run. He fumbled for the Sheikah Slate at his belt, but a sudden gust of wind blew it out of his grasp. It clattered to the ground and when he looked back, Revali was in his face, hands gripping his shoulders so hard it sent a twinge down his arms.
"Shut up, Link!" he thundered. "You are a whole, stupid person! Whole, because you're still the same person you were a hundred years, even despite the things that have changed. And stupid, because you keep allowing yourself to give in to that poisonous voice in your head that tells you you're not good enough, that you're not worthy of love, that you're better off alone, that you're nothing. I know that voice because it's the same one in my head, too!"
Link just stared back, suddenly nothing in his head but for the memory of an argument he never knew:
"No, Revali, I wanna know! Why do you have to act like you're better than everyone else?"
"Fine! You really want to know? Because it is easier! It keeps people from getting too close to me! Why do you even care?"
"Because I care about you, you stupid bird! I don't fall for your act, so stop pushing me away! I'm not going anywhere!"
"Did you just call me—"
"You heard me. Now shut up and sit down."
Link could feel the anxiety closing up his throat, suffocating him. But he could also feel the warmth from that memory, a familiarity that made him ache in a way he never knew existed. Everything in him wanted to escape where he was and find solace in that comforting bubble of his remote memories.
But he couldn't. And Revali was standing in front of him now, anchoring him to reality, staring at him with those passionate eyes, waiting for Link's response. And he couldn't have shoved any words out of his throat if he tried, for the tears were coming, obscuring his vision and making him feel weak.
"Link…" He said it in a quiet, intimate way, likely seeing the tears and wishing to soften them.
Link had no more fight left in him the moment he heard that tone, so he stepped forward and buried his face in the Rito's neck, fingers finding whatever purchase they could on his armor and holding on tightly. Revali reacted without hesitation, wrapping his wings tightly around him and lending all that warmth.
The feathers against his face were so soft, the down beneath them even softer. That alpine scent was impossibly strong now, overwhelming him and triggering more memories.
"Do you preen your feathers, like other birds?"
"Link, stop calling me a bird. I'm a Rito."
"Be nicer to me and I'll stop calling you a bird. So do you?"
There was a scoff and then a sigh. "Sometimes. It depends. It's more upkeep than it looks, you know."
"How do you braid feathers, though?"
"We just do. It's not that hard."
"Can I touch them?"
"This isn't a petting zoo, Link."
"That's not a no, though…"
"...fine. You're lucky I like you."
There was a soft tap on Link's back and he twitched a bit. "You're exhausted. Let's get out of here. Take us back to the village."
Link hummed in agreement, relinquishing his hold on Revali and stooping down for the Sheikah Slate. He felt embarrassed for losing his mind, but he was too tired to muster up the energy to do anything other than warp them back—
—to the Shrine in the middle of the village. He finally looked up and met the Rito's gaze, but there was no judgement in those green eyes; just sadness. When they arrived at Revali's house, he was ushered to his bed and ordered to sleep.
"That is not a braid, Link," Revali said with a snort, surveying Link's attempt on his own hair. "That is a mess. You're not crossing the strands every time."
The Rito reached forward, untangled his not-braid, guiding Link's fingers to the strands. "You have to them cross like this."
While Link had hardly admitted it to even himself, he couldn't deny there was something soothing about the soft fingers against his own. Before he knew it, his mind began to wander, focusing only on that sensation and little else. The bad training session with Lady Impa and the shame it brought was beginning to fade and Link idly wondered if that was why Revali even offered to teach him to braid.
"Are you even paying attention?" Revali asked, tone demanding despite the humor lingering somewhere beneath it.
Link let go of the hair and said, "Thanks for distracting me from what happened with Impa."
Revali paused for a moment, but then continued braiding. "It is only a temporary solution to your issue of dwelling on the past. But you're welcome."
He just snorted; they both knew Revali dwelled on the past, too. His hair was released and the Rito moved away, eyes shifting upward to Medoh, as they usually did those days.
"I wonder how much time we have left," Revali said. His expression was blank, clearly leagues away in thought.
"Not enough."
"Stop being a hatchling, Link. You'll do better tomorrow."
Link shook his head and gave Revali a dubious look. "And if I don't?"
"I'll kick you off the landing and defeat Ganon myself," Revali told him, amusement glinting in his eyes.
He let out a bark of laughter. "At least we have a backup plan."
Revali, he was starting to realize, was the only person that ever managed to cheer him up.
How many of you feel personally victimized by how angsty I am capable of making this?
Thanks for reading and commenting, y'all are the best 3