Early update again. Happy Thanksgiving, I guess ;) Sorry this chapter couldn't be... um... happier... but what goes down must go up, right?
Link used his Gale only once in the Yiga Clan's hideout, where Revali circled Link in near silence to send him safely up towards the room's wooden rafters with a tense eye on the hulking Blademasters prowling below. The Hylian Champion looked almost unrecognizable in his dark Sheikah garb with his hair swept up in a neatly pinned bun, though his braids dangling to either side spoiled the effect in a way that Revali rather liked. His expression hid behind a veil that masked the sound of his breathing, but he gave Revali a reassuring wink just as he vanished, as if infiltrating this base was some sort of game and not a potentially fatal mission. Still, Revali did not rest easy until Link called on him again, rising back over Gerudo Town's walls.
"Got it!" he said triumphantly. "I—ahh!"
Revali sighed in fond exasperation as he left Link to deal with the incensed Gerudo guards, having neglected to wear the vai outfit in his rush. How could Link be so capable sometimes, yet on other occasions be so hopelessly dense?
There was little time for reveling in his success, though, as the next day held an all too familiar anxiety that had not lessened out of repetition. Revali hadn't expected Link to visit in person before boarding Vah Naboris, but as he sat and watched the quiet mundanities of Rito life playing out below, he still fought the old fear that those moments by the fire would be their last spent together. That his final fleeting image of Link would be of him rising through a corrupted Vah Naboris, the sticky smog of Malice swallowing him whole. That Revali would wait vainly for Link to make contact, hour after hour growing less and less certain of Link's return until he was eventually forced to admit that it would likely never come.
After hours of such helpless brooding, blue light at the base of Vah Medoh brought only partial relief, as a quick glance at the red lights targeting the castle confirmed that Link had not managed to free Naboris while Revali was lost in thought. Had he decided to take a break? Link should have been nearing the end of the process by now, but if the Divine Beast's interior had proven a greater puzzle than anticipated then maybe—
Link's collapsed body materialized against the rock, and Revali seized up at the sight of so much blood.
"Link!"
With a burst like a small gale, Revali appeared to kneel beside him, green flames rolling off his feathers in agitation as he turned Link onto his side and almost retched at what he saw. Raw, painful looking burns bubbled across Link's skin, their spidery pattern visible through the gaping tears in his blue tunic, but Revali's eyes were drawn to the blackened gash splitting his torso, the clear source of all that blood. Link's eyes cracked open, and he coughed painfully.
"Hey there," he groaned, hunching over weakly, and a part of Revali wanted to slap him. "That thing was… fast. Didn't expect…" His hands were clenched tightly around his Sheikah Slate, shaking as the cold began to set in. Then again, it might have been shock. Revali felt the beginnings of that himself.
"Shut up," Revali mumbled, his wings flapping uselessly for a moment before pressing Link's tunic against his wound. It was not anywhere near enough to staunch the bleeding, but it was all he could think to do. "What was it? Was it…"
"Thunderblight Ganon," Link whispered, his whole body shaking now. "You were right. He was a beast."
"Just hold on." Revali grimaced. Even if it was the least of his worries right then, it still pricked to discover that the blight that had killed him was not even the worst of them. "If—if this is as bad as it looks, then Mipha will be here any moment and—"
Link shook his head slightly.
"No."
Ice shot through Revali. He could feel nothing, but he felt cold.
"What do you mean, no?"
"She healed me… too recently," Link rasped. "Needs more time… to gather strength. Jus' need to hold on… until then… so I had to get out…"
Revali stared at him. And exploded.
"And you came here? You idiot!" he seethed. "You halfwitted Hylian! You stupid, sentimental—"
"Only place I could think of," Link mumbled, his hoarse, confused voice cutting across Revali's panicked insults. "Couldn't remember…"
Revali tugged at the Sheikah Slate in Link's hands, but even as the rest of him weakened, that grip remained unbreakably firm.
"You need to go somewhere else," Revali snapped, prying at Link's fingers. "Anywhere else." Almost any village would be better than here. They would have supplies, and maybe elixirs, and—
"No." Link's blue eyes flickered, focusing. "I've died enough times to know that I'm not… I'm not there yet. Just stay with me and I'll be fine."
Revali's own eyes flashed wildly.
"How do you expect me to—" Link's slate refused to recognize Revali's touch. Obviously interacting with the living world only went so far. "You're going to freeze to death up here." Link had already lost enough blood to explain the shaking, but here on this tall, windy peak his lips had started to resemble the color of Revali's feathers.
"P-pouches." Sure enough, he was stuttering now, that unnatural blue framing his pained words. "Y-you'll find—"
Revali didn't hesitate. Digging through Link's various pouches, he dumped the contents roughly on the ground. The winged Rito headpiece with its embedded ruby bounced out, and Revali plucked it up quickly, clipping it around Link's ear so the heating magic could take effect. The worst of his shivers subsided immediately, though he groaned in pain as his body tried to unclench.
"Good," he breathed. "See? I'll be just fine."
"You—no!" Revali protested. "I mean, yes, of course you'll be just fine, with the kind of luck you have how could you not, I'm sure you'll be—be riding Lynels or whatever idiotic thing it is you do for fun by sundown, but you should really be in Zora's Domain or, or Kakariko Village—"
"No," Link said, the slate in his hands trembling from the strength of his grip. "Kakariko's shrine overlooks the village… not many people go up there. Zora's Domain… somebody might see me but… no saying whether…" He spasmed, and Revali leaned over him anxiously, but after another moment he relaxed. "Came here… habit… think it was the right place. Anywhere else I… might die alone…"
"So you decided to make me watch instead?" Revali spat, and regretted it immediately when tears gathered in the corners of Link's eyes. "No, I didn't mean—of course I'd rather you were here."
Looking over Link's prone form, he felt a rush of determination. He didn't need to save Link, just… keep him alive for long enough. Trying to work quickly but gently, Revali stripped Link of his Champion's tunic, balling it more firmly against the wound to staunch the bleeding and trying not to think about how the top of his cliff would be permanently stained red after this, a constant reminder of however this night ended.
"Could you… distract me maybe?" Link asked weakly, and Revali grunted.
"What did you have in mind?" The breath hissed through Link's teeth as Revali pushed harder, but he didn't dare let off the pressure.
"Um, what you were doing before was… pretty good," he murmured, and Revali stared blankly.
"What, insulting you?" Revali wracked his mind for the words that had always come to him naturally. "You… you flightless fool. You natural disaster. You clumsy harbinger of—"
Revali was certain that his words grew less coherent over time, but Link didn't seem to mind, even laughing at times with a pained hiss of breath that made Revali's beak clench. Too soon, though, Link's reactions grew weaker and weaker, until he barely responded at all.
"Come on, you… Link, stay with me," Revali said, his creativity finally exhausted as he glanced up at the sinking sun. How long had it been? "Can you feel her yet? Open your eyes!" he snapped urgently, and saw the barest sliver of blue peek from beneath Link's eyelashes as he tried to comply. "Is Mipha ready yet?"
"Miph… a?" Link whispered without comprehension, and Revali breathed in sharply.
"This isn't working. Let me see your slate."
It was no comfort to Revali when he easily broke Link's hold on the Sheikah Slate this time, gripping Link's wrist to navigate the menu with his unresponsive fingers as he frantically considered his options. Goron City, too hot. Gerudo Town… the map placed that shrine outside the city walls. Rito Village. He remembered that shrine, back when it had only been a dark, mysterious mound. Nobody ever went there. Nobody had any reason to visit those out-of-the-way shrines that only Link could make use of.
"Hateno," Revali snapped. "Will anybody see you there? Link, listen to me. What about the Hateno Research Facility?"
"Green… was my favorite," Link mumbled distractedly, his eyes widening a fraction further to stare blearily at Revali's face. "Even before…"
"That's enough." Revali was yelling now, he realized, frightened to his core when Link barely flinched. "If you die trying to tell me about my eyes, I will never let you live it down, do you understand? I will drag your spirit back here and mock you for all of time." Link smiled, his eyes slipping shut, and Revali grasped him by the face. "Stop that! You think you know about dying? I'm an expert, and let me tell you, it's not great! If you go trying it now—"
"She's here."
Green flame enveloped Link in flickering light as his smile deepened, a long breath escaping him in a rush, and time seemed to stop as Revali's head snapped up, disbelief and hope warring across his face. Mipha floated silently above him, her eyes flicking between them both before softening with understanding.
"You haven't seen him like this, have you?" she asked Revali gently, kneeling next to Link to place her hands over his chest. Cool green light spread rapidly from her fingers, knitting Link's wound back together as Revali watched and smoothing his ruptured skin. "Link will be fine. You did well, Revali. Thank you."
"You're saving his life," Revali protested blankly. It had been an age since he'd spoken to anyone other than Link, but all he could think was that he'd never given Mipha enough credit. "All I can do is make him fly."
"He needs that, too," she assured him. "And… other things." The sad acceptance in her voice said she knew. "Thank you for being there for him. He needs that most of all."
The more cynical part of Revali wanted to protest that her contribution still held the greater practical value, but as the healing light faded and Link's eyelids fluttered open, he lost the will to argue.
"Thank you," Link told her, and Mipha nodded wearily as if they'd had the interaction many times before, a ritual Revali had never been—should not have been—privy to.
"It was my pleasure," she said, her voice already fading as her spirit was pulled away, and it struck Revali how unfair it was that she had only those brief moments of lucidity with Link each time she put him back together. No wonder he always made a point of visiting her after.
Her ghostly form vanished entirely, and time resumed its normal pace. Link sat up, unballing the shirt pressed against his side and examining his new, pink scar for a moment before throwing the blue tunic back on, the gaping slash in the fabric the only outward hint that a blade had come anywhere near him. Blinking, Revali looked beneath Link and realized that the blood on the rock was gone, too.
"The tunic even mends itself," Link said, and Revali saw Link following his gaze with a wry quirk to his lips. "Great Fairy magic. In a couple hours I'll be good as new."
A blank slate, Revali thought, ready to be carved open again… or, almost blank. He had seen enough of the skin beneath to know it was riddled with scars.
Link's amusement faded as Revali stayed silent, and he clenched his fists nervously.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have… I'll make it up to you. I should have gone…" Where else was there to go?
"You would apologize for dying," Revali said abruptly, and Link almost crumpled with relief, as if he'd expected… anger? Rejection? "Mipha is a saint for putting up with you like that."
"Yeah, well." Link shrugged, but couldn't hide the stupid grin spreading across his face. "You made it pretty clear that if I died before she came, you would kill me again."
"I'll have you know I meant each of those insults literally," Revali told him, and the expression widened.
"Really? Even when you told me that I sounded like… a 'stumble-tongued songbird with a head cold,' I think it was?"
"You're making that one up." Revali said haughtily, folding his wings. He had no recollection of ever stringing those words together like that in his life.
"Can't be." Link cocked an eyebrow. "I think that's the only one I remember."
The two stared at each other for another moment, then moved as one. Revali enveloped him in his wings, pressing his beak against Link's forehead as Link stroked it with equal desperation.
"If it's ever a choice between dying alone or with someone you love, come to me," Revali whispered. "But if you're dying and able to call for help, then I'm begging you, please, go to someone else."
"The great Revali, begging?" Link choked out with a laugh, and Revali really meant to knock him over the head, but the movement became more of a caress. "I'm sorry, but… I have to go. If I leave Urbosa waiting inside Naboris any longer, she'll spit me on her scimitar."
It took a moment for his meaning to sink in, but when it did, Revali drew back sharply.
"You defeated Thunderblight?"
"I did." Link's eyes sparked with grim satisfaction. "He thought he had me down, but I got him in the end."
"So all you have to do is tap your slate against the main control unit and Naboris is free?" Revali asked disbelievingly, and Link nodded. As utterly relieving as it was that Thunderblight Ganon would not get its second chance at Link… "Urbosa might actually kill you."
"She's going to have to wait in line," Link quipped, finally pulling away, though the remark had too much truth in it for humor. Revali's eyes were drawn to the castle as he left, where a fourth beam of light would soon join all the others. Nothing stood between Link and that castle now. Between Link and Calamity Ganon.
As often as Revali informed him that such things weren't necessary, Link was set in his decision to "make it up" to Revali, and claimed to have thought of a way to do it.
"Is there anywhere in the world you want to see before… leaving?" he asked, kicking his feet over the rock's edge with Revali standing beside him, not meeting his eyes. "Anywhere at all?"
Revali considered it.
"I've always wanted to see the inside of Death Mountain," he said with mock sincerity. Link punched his leg.
"I'm serious," he insisted. "Pretend… pretend we were traveling together or something. Where would you want to go?"
Sobering, Revali thought about it. Where would he have gone if his training had not consumed every waking moment of his life? Before he was chosen as Champion, he had never traveled further south than the Great Tabantha Bridge, or ventured past the Hebra Mountains. It hadn't bothered him then, though having seen so much of the world now as Link traveled it, it made his own life seem somehow small. Still, now that it had been dangled for so long out of his reach…
"Home, I guess."
"I was going to take you there anyway."
Those glowing strands that circled Hyrule Castle grew thicker by the day. How much longer before Ganon broke free? Before Link decided it was time to end things on his own?
"The ocean," he said at last, feeling silly for admitting it. With only the surrounding lakes for reference, he had never really believed that any body of water could be so large as to appear endless, though he suspected now that it was a naive notion to think otherwise.
"Okay." Link nodded, and though his eyes crinkled at the corners, he didn't smile. Revali thought he smiled less these days, though he didn't seem to notice. "I guess I'd forgotten that I went down the coastline before freeing Medoh. I think… I think I know a good place."
Link didn't travel there right away, though, insisting that the timing had to be just right—and he was Link, after all, an adherent to nobody's timeline but his own. In the meantime, he did… everything else.
After freeing Naboris from Ganon's control, Link hardly sat still, jumping from place to place across the continent and taking his title of "hero" far too seriously in Revali's opinion, helping anyone he met who even hinted that they might have a problem. For the most part, this put him in a good mood, his weary face content as he recounted it all to Revali over their fire each night. The tasks he found for himself varied wildly, some as mundane as tracking down a lonely man's lost cuccos, and others as bizarrely out of place as organizing a wedding—but there were those that left him sour.
"I took out an enemy camp today," Link said, swiping angrily with one of his salvaged swords, this one so long and sharp it almost cleaved the air itself. These training exercises had become a nightly routine ever since he'd remembered their existence, a way to familiarize himself with weapons that could not withstand the constant use he made of them. "A bunch of Bokoblins were stealing this lady's sheep. Destroying her livelihood."
"I was there," Revali said, which was almost true. He had carried Link over the unsuspecting encampment, leaving just as Link drew his bow.
"She found me afterwards to thank me. Said she finally felt safe watching her flock." Link grunted viciously, moving his sword in a parrying motion. There was nothing in the short story to say why it had bothered him so, but the red moon hanging in the sky made his explanations for him. For all Link's efforts, that woman's reprieve would be temporary, her tormentors restored to life like so many had been before.
"You can't singlehandedly solve all of Hyrule's problems," Revali sniffed. "You should…" Defeat Calamity Ganon. "...take a break tomorrow. Do something other than the menial nonsense you've been doing."
Link gave him a look, but he stopped his motions, leaning forward on his knees to catch his breath in short, rhythmic puffs. His cheeks were red with cold and exertion, redder still in the light of the fire, and his eyes looked cool and bright in comparison. Revali could not tear his own eyes away.
"There's an island," Link said eventually. "I haven't explored it yet, but I think there might be an old shrine there. Maybe I'll go check it out."
Revali voiced his immediate approval. Aside from his firelit nights with Revali, Link always seemed most at ease when exploring the wilds—a convenient trait to possess, given that he'd had an entire continent of wilderness to reacquaint himself with. Maybe it wouldn't hurt for Link to have just one day devoted to restoring his spirit.
He was more than a bit taken aback, then, when Link called on his Gale the next day, soaring over an angry camp of Moblins, utterly naked.
"This is entirely your fault!" he roared at the startled Rito, enemy horns blaring through the air as he whipped out a crude-looking bow and took aim, and Revali returned to the jarring calm of Vah Medoh feeling equal parts confused and concerned. It wasn't until late into the night that Link returned to tell him irritably about the trials of Eventide Island, and Revali startled them both by laughing harder than he ever had even in life.
"You wouldlaugh," Link muttered, though the mood was catching, and a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "I'm sunburnt, Revali. In places that have probably never seen the sun before today. It is freezing up here as usual, I am covered in layers, and underneath it all, I'm sunburnt. Do you know how ridiculous that feels right now? Revali?"
Revali couldn't respond. Finally, Link broke down and laughed along with him, and in that way Revali considered the day a success, though Link might not have seen it so. If smiles were harder to earn these days, then laughter had almost vanished completely, neither of them finding much funny in their world as it wound towards an inevitable ending.
There was one loose thread that laid heavy on both their minds, though neither had the courage to mention it, one that was tied up abruptly and, on Revali's part, without warning. Blue light wove together at the base of Vah Medoh, indicating an increasingly rare daytime visit, and Revali's surprised greeting faded to nothing as it coalesced. Link was wearing the darkness-sealing sword.
"Well?" he asked, arms spread wide in an unvoiced question. After weeks of Link's rotating armory bearing everything from forked boomerangs to enormous claymores, Revali had almost forgotten the image of the silent knight with the fated sword strapped across his back, staring steadily at Revali as he tried and failed to provoke a reaction. Link's expression was eerily similar now to the one he'd worn back then, as if it were tied to the weight of that sword, and Revali glanced at Link's braid with the blue feather woven through to remind himself that time had passed.
"You didn't tell me you were retrieving it today."
"I know how you feel about this sword."
Link had only the barest notion of how Revali felt about that sword, but it seemed like the wrong time to correct him.
Slowly, Link drew it from its sheath, sunlight glinting off the blade's sharpened edge, and began the series of maneuvers he'd performed a hundred times before on this rock while Revali watched—only this time was different. There was no learning curve for this sword as there had been for every other weapon, no adjusting his grip so it better suited him or pausing to feel out its weight. Every slash and parry came quick and certain, the blade moving precisely as Link directed and not an inch further, as if the sword had become an extension of Link the moment he picked it up—or Link a part of the sword. It was the weapon he had been born to wield, the force pointing him unerringly towards Hyrule Castle.
Revali wanted to throw it off the cliff.
"Well?" Link asked again, twirling the sword unnecessarily before sheathing it. Revali still didn't know how to answer. He wasn't even sure he understood the question.
The silence stretched.
"Soon?" Revali said abruptly, looking past him, and Link nodded after a moment, following his gaze to the castle.
"Soon."
Even knowing it was coming, Revali still felt winded when he appeared beside Link one day among the artfully balanced dwellings of Rito Village, gliding up and above the wooden platform that now bore his name. The steady, familiar click of churning windmills ignited a longing he had not recognized the depths of until that moment, and returning to Vah Medoh after those painfully brief moments felt like tearing his heart along lines that had only just scarred over… but then Link called him again, and again. Until his strength to answer ran out, Revali responded, drinking in the colorful details of home that he had too often taken for granted in life. In many ways it was like viewing the world through glass—he could not feel the cold breeze that turned the windmills, or smell the salmon roasting on cookfires or the everpresent scent of pine. Still, it was home, and, he knew in his heart, would always be his home.
"Was that okay?" Link asked, arriving at Vah Medoh as soon as physically possible once it was over, and Revali nodded. Lied.
"Of course."
"Good." There was a bittersweet smile on his face now, and Revali dared not respond in kind, afraid that the bitter might overwhelm the sweet. "Did you want me to take you to…"
"Please," Revali said, knowing this next one would be harder still. He was right.
Once he'd recovered his strength, Link called on him again, this time at the Flight Range. In some ways it was better, because as he circled the air among the peaks and glowing blue targets where he had dedicated so many hours of practice in life, Revali could almost imagine that he was flying… only he was so clearly not flying that he nearly wept. That deadening glass seemed thicker here where the wind should have been sharper, rippling through his tasseled scarf and sending the beads in his braids clattering. He wondered if flight awaited him in the next life, the feel of air pushing against his wings and whipping around his feathers as his powerful muscles propelled him skyward, or if that had been a thing of this life only, and the price he paid for failure was to remember it until he left.
Still, he could not bring himself to deny Link what he knew he truly wanted: to give Revali life, in the only way he knew how. However his battle with Ganon ended and whoever he managed to save, there could be no restoring what had already been taken away, no matter how desperately Link wanted to… so when Link asked if he was ready, Revali swallowed his "no" and nodded, hoping only that whatever pale experience Link gave him would hurt less this time with no personal attachment to the place.
Instead, he was rewarded with the sun.
The ocean was there, too, spread out far below the cliff Link had chosen with no land in sight beyond, but it was the rising sun that caught and held his focus, each individual ray like an arrow of light piercing through him as he rose. Suspended in the air, with no mountains or land between them, he thought for one brief second that there was no Calamity—that maybe nothing existed but himself and that sun, and Link, rising alongside them.
"So… how was it?" Link asked when they had both returned, his anxious hope made painfully clear by how he couldn't quite meet Revali's eyes, his hand twisting around a braid so nervously it had nearly unraveled.
Setting that hand firmly aside, Revali grasped Link in his wings, and felt all that nervous tension seep out of him as he buried his head in Revali's scarf. There was nothing he could think to say that was not too corny or wholly inadequate, but Link had rarely seemed averse to silence before and he did not complain for it now, saying nothing in return as Revali's tears fell, pushed from his eyes by the rising sun.
When Link called Revali's Gale to Mount Lanayru, Revali knew what it meant. Maybe it was the repetition of events coming full circle, the battle with Ganon arriving each time at the base of Lanayru's slopes, or maybe it was the arbitrary feeling of balance restored. First Zelda, and now Link had visited every ancient spring, gaining whatever godly aspects they could from the holy water. The rest was up to mortals now.
"Is Naydra freed, then?" Revali asked as Link appeared early that evening, wishing he could force his voice even a degree warmer but lacking the strength. Seeing the strands of Malice clinging to the ancient dragon, overriding her will with its own, had left Revali both grateful for what had not been done to him, and terrified of what still might happen. That dragon was a living, breathing creature, not a machine like the Divine Beasts designed to be controlled, yet that had not stopped the Malice. Those staring yellow eyes had followed Revali all the way back to Vah Medoh.
"Of course." Link's bravado was a weak imitation of its usual self, too. He stood motionless as if waiting for something, although Revali didn't know exactly what. Maybe a comment on his upgraded arsenal? He had strapped a Zora trident to his back for some reason, crossing it over his sword, and his colorful Gerudo shield was far finer than the beaten wood or metal he usually carried. His bow…
His bow.
"Where did you get that?" Revali breathed, and Link breathed deeply in return, unlatching the Great Eagle Bow from his back and presenting it to him in steady, outstretched hands. Now that Revali considered it, he realized he had rarely known those hands to tremble. The mark of an expert swordsman, he supposed.
"The Elder gave this to me ages ago," Link explained as Revali held his old bow carefully, running a finger down the aging wood. "Back when I freed Vah Medoh. Teba convinced him that I could make the greatest use of it."
It had been well-maintained over all this time, the bowstring changed and the painted patterns not even peeling. The cloth he'd tied around it once had faded from its original bright blue, but there could be no stopping the advancing years completely.
"Have you?" Revali asked, and Link shook his head.
"To be honest, it's been hanging on a wall in my house all this time. I couldn't… can you imagine if I'd broken it fighting something like a bokoblin? Besides, from what little I remembered back then, I wasn't really sure that you would want me using it."
"You have a house?" Revali said, and Link frowned as if Revali was purposefully trying to derail him from the obvious next question. Maybe he was.
"I've spoken to Mipha and Urbosa already, and I have their blessing to use what they left behind." Link spoke clearly, as if Revali might miss his intended point otherwise. "I want to know if you will let me wield your bow when I fight Calamity Ganon tomorrow."
Tomorrow. Just like that. Revali held the bow up experimentally, pulling the bowstring past his cheek.
"What about Daruk?" he asked, and Link's solemn expression broke for a moment as he winced.
"Daruk's weapon is a solid piece of stone almost as tall as I am. I had to ask his blessing not to bring it with me, and I think he was still disappointed."
Revali breathed a laugh, relaxing his grip on the bowstring to face Link directly.
"If I give this to you, you'll use it to avenge me?"
Link looked from the bow to Revali, a fierce glow lighting his windburned face. So many nights had been spent on their windy rock that the rough red in his cheeks was almost a permanent feature now.
"I will."
"Then it's yours to use with my blessing. However!" he added sharply, snatching it back just as Link was on the brink of taking it. "This is not a bow for amateurs, especially when used aerially as seems to be your preference. Most Rito would barely have the strength to draw it in the air."
"Teba… might have mentioned that," Link said, confusion twisting his brow. "What are you saying?"
"What I'm saying is that you will take my bow into battle with the confidence required to unleash its full potential, or not at all. Here." Revali gestured him forward. "Let me show you."
For an hour that he would have extended forever if he could, Revali put Link through his paces, familiarizing him with all of the weapon's strengths and quirks and demonstrating how to cluster his arrows together for maximum damage. Link was a more than adequate shot, almost an expert, but Revali still found plenty to critique in his form, making small adjustments to his grip and his aim and hearing Link breathe harshly in his ear each time he leaned in, as if grit alone were holding him together through this. This would be part of his legacy, he realized, watching Link draw and fire three arrows in one smooth motion, already more confident in it than he had been at first. If only Revali had been given time to pass on more. His Gale would die along with him now, he realized wistfully, and wished he could have shared his knowledge with… somebody.
"There," he said at last, when it was finally too dark to continue. It would do Link no good to exhaust him fully the night before his greatest battle, anyhow. "I guess it's theoretically possible for you to best Ganon as you are now… with my help, of course."
"That's it, huh?" Lowering his bow, Link gave him an amused glance. "That's all I get from you?"
"What? Were you looking for words of encouragement in my dulcet tones?" Revali smirked. "I can understand why you would desire such a thing, but having me keep you in line will have to suffice."
"I see." Link's smile softened. "Maybe someday, then."
"…Maybe." Revali blinked, and coughed. "I imagine you'll want to sleep in the inn tonight. A Rito-down bed will give you a much better rest for your battle tomorrow than another night spent on the cold, hard—"
"Don't be an idiot," Link interrupted him flatly, and Revali stiffened instinctively before he relaxed, letting it go. It wasn't a point he intended to press.
Curled up together beside the fire that night, conversation was slow. Each time Link tried to crane his neck to stare at the castle, Revali redirected his head firmly to press against the feathers of his chest.
"Time enough for that in the morning," he said, and Link nodded slowly, burrowing in further.
"Is there anything you want…?" he started to ask, his voice muffled in Revali's feathers, but lost the nerve to finish. It seemed they had both decided separately not to acknowledge this night as any sort of final goodbye—just another ancient beast to slay, another old friend to free—and the unfinished question skirted too close to that line of admission. Revali answered it anyway, though.
"When all this is over, I have a message for you to give from me. To Teba."
Link pulled back in surprise, looking up.
"Anything. What is it?"
"Tell him I said that I do not believe he will ever match my accomplishments."
Link blinked up at him, opening and closing his mouth.
"Do I have to?" he asked, clearly regretting his hasty assent, and on any other night Revali would have laughed.
"Tell him that," Revali said firmly. "And then tell him I said that I hope he proves me wrong."
Link's face relaxed, and he nestled back into Revali's chest.
"I can tell him that."
Link had never struggled to find sleep before, and even with the weight hanging over him, he did not struggle now. Maybe it was a gift unique to Link that he could sleep whenever he wanted, or maybe it was Revali's presence that did it. He had no way of knowing, but hoped for Link's sake that it was the first.
Revali did not sleep—had not slept in a hundred years—but he did let his mind wander through memories and imagination, and in this way he almost dreamed.
He almost dreamed about flying.
"Brace yourself, Ganon, for the sting of my revenge!"
Revali thought that every Rito below him must have heard his call, it burst from him with such strength… though if they somehow missed it, they certainly did not miss what came next. Bluish white light gathered and erupted from Medoh in an instant, ramming into the abomination within Hyrule Castle with a strength that would have seared his eyes to watch it if he'd still had eyes to see. In that same moment, three identical beams shot out from every corner of the land, meeting Medoh's where the darkness gathered—and that darkness shrieked.
"Burn, you swine," Revali muttered viciously as the attack drew on, waning now as Medoh exhausted its reserves of strength. Before long, the beam had vanished entirely, the clear blue sky appearing almost dark in that light's absence, and Revali waited with open tension, knowing that each of the other Champions must be doing the same. Had it worked? Had they…?
Ever so slowly, that darkness began to reform, and Revali felt his heart sink. It had not been enough to destroy the beast, but they had managed to weaken it. They must have… which meant the rest was up to Link.
Revali waited, barely noticing the chaos that had erupted beneath him as every Rito in the village took to the air, straining to get a better view of Vah Medoh, and the figure standing atop it. They should have been looking to the castle, not to him, though they had no way of knowing it yet. Nothing mattered but the unseen battle so far away, the one that so few in this world were even aware of but that would decide the fate of them all. Unfair, that, or Revali would have found it so, but Link had frustratingly never cared much for recognition.
Another shriek split the air, the Malice writhing and regathering as its thickening strands formed an enormous beast outside the castle walls, and Revali leaned forward intently. It could mean that Ganon had finally broken free to wreak havoc, that Link had failed to contain the abomination, but… a tiny beam of light followed the monster to its chosen arena, so small he might have missed it with anything less than Rito vision, and smiled triumphantly.
"Link might actually do this," Revali murmured to Medoh with affected surprise that couldn't quite hide the excitement in his voice. He was so close to… to… he still didn't know for sure, but after one hundred years he was ready for something different. "He always was luckier than he had any right to be."
Link called on Revali's Gale one last time before the end, in those suspended moments just before the Calamity's death. He did not look at the Rito that carried him up, too intent on lining up his final shot, but Revali looked at him, at the feathered braid fluttering wildly and the fierce determination lining Link's battered face at every angle as Revali circled him through the air. The wind already gusting up in the wake of the beast's attacks made the Gale itself unnecessary. Maybe Link had just wanted him nearby for one final, unspoken goodbye, or maybe he hadn't wanted him to die alone.
Only as he left did Revali finally look into the eye of Calamity Ganon, one split-second before Link's shining arrow pierced it through. They had said that Ganon was intelligent, though Revali sensed none of that now. In that hateful yellow orb, he saw nothing but an animal's rage and fear, as if it too was trapped in a cycle it had no way of breaking.
Revali almost could have pitied it then, but he didn't.
He left, but did not return to Vah Medoh. The dark material that had caused so much pain gathered in on itself beneath that burning light, quailing, shrinking, screaming as the princess finally appeared in all her shining power to banish it from her world… and it was gone.
And so was Revali.
Revali felt that darkness leave, felt the shackles holding him break, and he was free. He rose—was he flying again at last, the wind in his wings like he'd remembered for so long?—Hyrule vanishing from sight and mind as he looked up, and saw the sun. In that one brief moment, he thought that maybe nothing else existed but himself and that sun—and Link, standing somewhere below.
He felt a twinge of regret.
"You defeated him, eh?" he murmured, though he was no longer certain that he had a voice to speak with as that light consumed all. "Who would've thought?"
In the distance, he heard Vah Medoh shriek, a long, piercing cry that tugged on his heart, holding it. Anchoring it.
For a very long time, that was all he heard.
Revali blinked, and then blinked again. He was staring at the sun.
"Who would've thought?" he muttered, raising a wing to his head. It hurt.
Slowly, he sat up, realizing only as he did so that he had been lying down. He appeared to be atop Vah Medoh, who for some reason had perched itself directly above Rito Village, its mechanical beak turned towards Hyrule Castle where a dusty haze obscured all but that it still stood despite Calamity Ganon's attack. Lake Totori was far distant beneath him, the Hebra Mountains sprawling beyond that, and to his surprise, tall, spiraling towers dotted the land around him as if they'd sprouted overnight, all glowing that same Sheikah blue that he'd come to associate with Medoh, and… with something else he couldn't quite put a feather on.
"Who would've thought…"
He shivered, the icy wind cutting through even his insulating feathers at this height and sending his blue scarf flapping wildly. The feathered skin around his eyes felt particularly cold, and raising a finger to his face, Revali realized he was crying… probably from the wind, or from staring at the sun. Not his best idea, that.
Who would've thought… What was he trying to say?
"How," he said instead, wiping the thought from his mind as his brow creased with the beginnings of irritation, "did I wind up all the way up here?"