Hello, and welcome to the story which spawned all others in the Sword of the Goddess series! The Sword Reforged is a retelling of Skyward Sword, carefully adjusted to solve various problems and unanswered questions within the game itself. You'll recognise the broad strokes, but some details have been altered, expanded, or in rare cases completely replaced. The noble Floor Owl (not a user on this site) and I like Skyward Sword, but so much of what it tells either doesn't quite hold together on close inspection or would work so much better if given just a little more depth. And that's what we're here to do - so join me and hear a story both old and new!

The Sword of the Goddess series comprises:
I. A Hunger to Swallow the World
II. Out of Time
III. The Sword Reforged

There is a complicated optimal reading order, which can entirely be safely ignored and also isn't the order it's being written in anyway, but which will be flagged at the bottom of relevant chapters. From now on, one of the three stories in the series should update each weekend, so check back regularly!

Chapter 1: Wings

Skyloft.

The Knight Academy Wing Ceremony.

It seemed as though the entire island had turned out to watch the spectacle. Most of them probably had. Not only that, the families of the off-island students – those who could – had travelled to the great island to watch as well. Even for those born there, it was something of an imposing crowd. Of the students who'd been judged ready to be awarded their flight feathers this year, and move up to the final stage of their training, only one could do so at their head. Rather than determined by their attainment over the year, it would all be decided in one final contest. For a variety of reasons, each of the would-be knights was determined they would be the one to win.

Link glanced from side to side, looking at his fellow trainees. There was Groose, nearly two years older and desperate to finally graduate to the senior class after the last students his age had done so the year before. He glared at Link before dismissing him with an elaborate shrug, even as Link's eyes moved on. There was Sperah, black hair bobbed, sharp face determined: a few months Link's elder and out to prove she was ready for anything. Then Cawlin, also slightly older than Link but now by far the shortest in the class. Where the other boys had shot up in the last few years, he'd barely gained more than an extra inch, and was endlessly bitter about it.

There were a couple of other students both on Link's other side and beyond Cawlin, but past him Link caught Zelda's eye, standing on the sidelines. She smiled at him with a look that silently wished him luck, and Link smiled back before looking forwards again, eyes on the sky ahead. By all rights she should have been in the line with them, but she'd been the one offered the part of the goddess this year and had withdrawn from the competition to accept it. Link focused back on Instructor Owlan's words as the speech he and Headmaster Gaepora had been giving – the same one some combination of the instructors and headmaster gave at the beginning of every year's Wing Ceremony, give or take – began to wind down.

The comment about a good, clean competition sounded especially pointed this year, and Link was pretty sure he knew exactly who it was aimed at. He doubted it would have any effect – but in the next moment, it didn't matter. The countdown had started, and on the final mark, everyone dashed forwards at once. First over the edge by little more than a heartbeat, Link whistled loudly as he fell, though he already knew almost exactly where his Loftwing was: circling below the island with the others, waiting. Dimly, he sensed the sudden exertion and burst of speed as the bird broke away from the flock, powerful wingbeats pushing him on just that little bit faster. In the next moment they were reunited, pulling sharply out of their dive to soar up and away, slightly ahead of the rest.

Instructor Owlan's golden-yellow bird was already far ahead of them, appearing and disappearing through the small fluffy clouds that had gathered around a nearby little rock of an island. Link ducked low to his Loftwing's neck – the bird had a name, but not one he could have spoken aloud or written down; it was a concept, a bird's sense of self: I – me – red-feathers – this-human – wind-under-wings – far-travel fast-flight – sun-and-sky. The new position reduced wind resistance, and he was acutely aware that for every wingbeat of straight flight, he would gain just that little bit more on those behind him, giving himself a few seconds' advantage when the contest turned from one of speed to one of agility and quick thinking.

Approaching the tiny island, they veered upwards, flapping hard to gain altitude and look down on their target below. For a moment, Link couldn't see him, but then the bird shot out from a puff of cloud, pulling wisps of it into his wake. There-

The thought alone signalled his intent, and the pair dived, the wind rushing through Link's hair, through his Loftwing's feathers, wings folded almost fully back. With them coming down from above and behind, in a blind spot, their quarry evaded almost more by luck than anything else, refusing to stick to straight-line flight, jinking unpredictably. But they were right on his tail, following smoothly as Owlan's bird sideslipped, then rolled, an agile wing-flick shooting him straight into another cloud. A shadow passed across Link and his Loftwing, and rider glanced up as bird remained fixed on the target: Groose with his sidekicks Cawlin and Strich in wingman positions, and above them – Link squinted, trying to be sure of the bird's colour. Was that Robric? Then where was Sperah? Her Loftwing was widely agreed to be the second-fastest in the class. Before he could think about it for more than a moment, however, mist billowed across his vision, and Link rejoined his focus to his Loftwing's as they raced into the cloud, united in purpose and determination.

The turbulence they flew through and an ever-shifting shadow only just ahead of them told Link they were on the right flight path, on their quarry's tail. He locked his right hand tight into the straps, preparing to reach forward and make a grab for the trailing statuette as soon as they were within reach- but the cloud lightened ahead, they burst out into dazzling sunlight, and something-coming-from-above – with a screaming cry from bird and rider, someone dove down in a blur of colour and motion barely two wingspans to the right! They didn't collide, but the damage had already been done: the reflex to avoid an impending attack was one very few Loftwings ever truly broke, and while Link's bird handled the shock like a champion after the first moment, they'd still lost both speed and altitude, no longer directly on their quarry's tail.

"I got him!" yelled the other rider, words whipping on the wind and barely even reaching Link's own ears. Glancing down, the plumage of the bird below confirmed it was Cawlin, and he looked up to see Groose trying to match the position Link had been in just moments before.

Flying with a wingman was decidedly not a standard way to win the competition at the Wing Ceremony, but it had worked in a double handful of years before, and those who managed to pull it off were usually well-regarded. It took a lot to convince a hopeful classmate to fly as your own backup, giving up hope of winning for yourself in exchange for helping a friend do so. Before Zelda had been offered the role of the Goddess in the ceremony ahead, Link had wondered privately if he'd be willing to fly wingman to her if she asked. He certainly wouldn't have wanted to for anyone else, not with how good his own chances were. How Groose of all people had talked or intimidated his sidekicks into it…

Link gritted his teeth, shifting his weight subtly with every wingbeat to maximise the power of their flight. He was not going to let Groose win! The little island they were flying around was to his right, and he banked sharply towards it, giving up a direct shot at the tail position – beating strongly up, fighting through the eddies, gaining vital altitude once again as they popped up over the edge of the cliff and saw Sperah at last, circling almost lazily above the island. Noticing Link, she leant sideways to wave a cheeky salute, and he couldn't help a small, tight smile.

Sperah had to know that as soon as he reached the right vantage he'd dive. She knew as well as he did that in a straight flight his Loftwing was slightly faster over all but short distances. She had the advantage, but with each wingbeat it dwindled. Link was pressing her – and suddenly she broke away from her former flight path, diving, he hoped just precious moments too early. He forced himself to let her go; his own chance would come next and he could only trust to luck that he'd pressured her into diving too soon.

As they neared what Link and his bird judged minimum diving altitude, Link looked back down again, hoping his instinctive guesses had been right. For a moment he couldn't see anything, gaze searching the clouds – then, suddenly, there they were: Instructor Owlan's pale bird twisting agilely around a spur of rock while behind him both Sperah and Groose seemed in mild disarray. Link guessed they'd only narrowly avoided a mid-air collision. Groose's unlikely wingmen were flying wide, one above and behind and one out to the side; they saw him, but there was nothing either could do as Link's Loftwing arced over and into an exhilarating dive, not straight for Owlan's Loftwing, who'd be gone by the time they got there, but for the next wispy cloud ahead. Too many aerobatics inside a cloud with an island so close nearby were risky; if Link guessed right what angle his quarry would enter the cloud at, he'd be coming down right on top of where he'd almost have to be flying straight afterwards!

The wind whipped through his hair, carrying all sound but his own incomprehensibly away. Link resisted the urge to yell with the exhilaration of it as he shot into the cloud, one last glance at Owlan's bird fine-tuning the angle of his flight, the awareness that came from his own Loftwing's sight telling him that Robric was beating up below them somewhere; that Groose had pulled ahead of Sperah but lost his wingmen – that there was nothing but mist and shadow, white and bright in full sunlight and darkening for every bird-length they dropped. Their linked awareness let them judge and take the risks, a perfect sense of exactly how fast the Loftwing could pull off a wrenching roll to avoid danger, exactly how far they would travel as they did, matching their flight speed to the razor-thin edge of their safety margins from moment to moment. Link had almost never felt so alive as in moments like this, bird and rider as one pushing themselves to their limits for a common goal.

In only seconds there was a shadow below them, a shape; that same instant Link felt a snap of broad wings outstretched and the force pinning him to his Loftwing, barely there at all as they fell, doubled, tripled, the strain pushing the red bird to fold wings turn slower and wild joy in the aerobatics demanding that his body bear the strain. And it did; even as they were still pulling up and momentarily in the perfect position, the trailing statuette so close it could have hit the Loftwing's head, Link pushed himself up and forward with all his strength, hanging on with his right hand and reaching with his left, reaching-

He had only an instant's warning, a darkening in the fog in their peripheral vision, before Groose suddenly resolved from the fog behind and to his left. Something about the motion he could barely even see warned Link; he ducked flat to his Loftwing, losing precious moments, as something small shot by over his head, falling just ahead of one broad red wing. So much for that; he'd known Groose would try to cheat, everybody had-

"You're not going to take this from me, you lazy drifter!"

"It's not yours!" Link shouted into the wind, letting it carry his words back. They were still so close, they were in Instructor Owlan's bird's slipstream and Groose was in theirs, all three bound together by the invisible air they flew through. If he pulled ahead of Groose, he'd pull ahead of the target, and all he needed to do was to just hold his line for a few seconds more. Before he could even frame the question in his mind, the answer was with him, as it always was:

Shall we do this? | Of course!

The red Loftwing was as bold as his rider, and both counted the sting of whatever Groose might hit them with as nothing worth noting against their shot at victory. A shift in the trim of their quarry's wings, seen even as it began, and they swept through a sharp left turn, Groose flying just that little too wide and losing another half a length – Link reached forwards once again, the wind teasing him as it yanked the statuette this way and that on its anchor ribbon; something hard slammed into his right shoulder and he gasped but refused to flinch; rocked back and forward in time with a final powerful wingbeat and at last, at last his fingers closed on the coveted prize!

Feeling the tug, the leading Loftwing let the ribbon drop, and Link and his Loftwing stooped into another wild dive, their prize triumphantly clutched in Link's hand. They plunged out of the bottom of the cloud with it still held high, soaring up and now flying with all their might back to Skyloft. No-one could beat them for straight-line speed over that distance; whatever Groose might have had in mind, they were away.

Bird and rider landed back at Skyloft to wild applause and cheers from the gathered crowd. Link had to fight the urge to duck his head, and couldn't entirely stop himself grinning like an idiot. Prompted by a gesture from the headmaster, he held the statuette high to a cheer that was almost deafening.

Link kept his eyes on Zelda as he jumped down from his Loftwing's back, hiding a wince as the motion tugged at his bruised shoulder. At big events, it was always easier to keep his eyes on people he knew. He didn't mind the press of students at the academy, or the crowds at the Skyloft market, but here as the centre of attention for over half the island…

Another cheer went up as Robric landed, and another for Sperah right behind him. Both riders gave Link a salute as they climbed down, Sperah slightly rueful. Four more riders landed, each to their own round of applause, before Groose and his wingmen trailed in at the back of the group, the older student shooting Link a glare under the cover of his dismount before turning to the crowd.

With all the trainee knights back on solid ground, Headmaster Gaepora stepped forward, the last of the applause dying away. He shook Link's hand in congratulations, and again Link hid his flinch at the twinge of pain, keeping any reaction from his face.

"Congratulations, Link!" His voice dropped somewhat and the look in his eyes seemed near pleading as he asked, softer, almost anxiously, "Was it a good race?"

Several different sentences collided with one another in the back of Link's throat. Groose had already been almost expelled at least twice; with one word and the bruise on his shoulder, Link could quite likely see him kicked out of the Knight Academy. His thoughts flashed back to quiet, tense conversations with Zelda, who often overheard her father's academy business, accidentally or otherwise.

"Even the other instructors were saying Dad should kick him out this time!" While her voice was too high-pitched to perfectly replicate his tone, she'd mimicked her father's manner of speech almost perfectly. "But what will he do if we do? That boy has the makings of a good man, if he'll ever see it. If we expel him, he'll only grow more bitter, and our students now will be picking him out of bar fights in ten years' time. If we keep him here, there's still a chance he'll learn something."

"Groose? Learn?" Link exaggerated surprise at the very idea.

Zelda had laughed a little at that, her mood lightening slightly before she sighed. "Maybe Dad doesn't want to give up on him, but I still agree with Instructor Owlan. The way he picks on you is too much!"

"It was fine, Headmaster," he said quietly, looking up into the tall man's worried eyes, and gave him a little smile. "Sperah had me worried for a moment when I realised we were both going for the same dive."

The headmaster breathed out in visible relief. "Well, you clearly passed her all the same, didn't you? Well done, you and your Loftwing both."

As the headmaster stepped away, the other students arranged themselves in a line behind Link, facing the crowd and leaving him alone in the front and centre. The traditional graduation called on them each by name, had them each reswear their oaths – maybe one day Groose will remember those – and made a point to praise each one for some achievement or other over their years in the class they were leaving. In the warm sun and strong, cool wind, it was easy to simply enjoy the moment, even with everyone watching. The next graduation would be their last, perhaps in two years, perhaps in three, and being a full knight had never felt closer.

The ceremony seemed over surprisingly quickly, and almost before he realised it, Link was leading the procession up to the Goddess Statue: himself and his classmates, then their teachers, then the rest of the island, walking smartly up the bridge that led to the Goddess' Isle deliberately out of step with one another to avoid it swaying and potentially snapping. No-one Link knew had ever seen a bridge actually do that, but there were endless horror stories, and it was easy enough to feel them rock underfoot that just about everyone could believe it.

At the foot of the great statue, Link waited briefly, then turned and bowed to the still-gathering crowd before heading for the diving platform on the edge of the island. He accelerated as he reached it, leaping into the sky and calling his bird with a whistle and a thought, in perfect safety even as he fell with the Loftwing's awareness growing ever stronger in the back of his mind until they met and were as one again.

It was a very short flight, arcing up and around for a careful, delicate landing on the platform of the goddess' sculpted stone hands. Zelda was already there, smiling as she shielded her face from the buffeting gusts of their landing. Link swung himself off his Loftwing's back, again ignoring the twinge from his shoulder, and the red bird took off to circle above the statue, keeping exactly opposite Zelda's. Down below, he could hear Headmaster Gaepora and Knight Commander Eagus giving the introduction to the ceremony.

"I'm glad you made it up here like you promised, Link," Zelda said softly, far too quietly to be heard on the ground below. "That was great flying out there…"

Link smiled, but before he could say anything, Zelda tilted her head, listening to the words drifting up from below. She cleared her throat, smoothing her expression to serenity, and Link glanced down reflexively at the crowd, which had fallen utterly silent, before taking the painted statuette from where he'd tied it on his belt and offering it to her. Zelda took it, briefly holding it high for the audience to see, and turned to set it smoothly in the alcove set into the statue's chest. She positioned it carefully, a green and white bird with blue and red tips to its long feathers and a red bar across its chest, gazing directly at them. So smoothly it looked natural, though Link knew she'd been rehearsing her part over and over again over the last few weeks, she stepped back, lifting the harp she'd been given for the ceremony and beginning to pluck a gentle tune.

With his back to the crowd, Link was free to smile as he watched her, dressed in her ceremonial outfit and playing the age-old melody of dedication. The goddess' stone face gazed out over them both, the same serene, slightly weather-worn smile they'd always known bestowing her benevolence upon her people.

As the last note of the music died away, Zelda tucked the harp carefully away in the pouch on her belt. Though they were expensive to make thanks to the magic needed, the Knight Academy outfitted each of its students with a basic set: each one could hold just about any single thing up to roughly the volume of a thin human's torso. Or so it was said, at least; in practice, nobody generally tried to carry something that big around with them anyway. She turned around to Link, still serenely graceful; held out her hand.

Link knelt before her, placing his right hand in her left, his head bowed as Zelda spoke the ceremonial words, her voice clear and carrying.

"Great goddess, guiding light and protector of our people, grant us your blessing and mercy as I act in your stead during this ceremony." She took a deep breath. "Valiant youth who grasped victory at the celebration of the bird folk… In accordance with the old ways… I now bestow the blessings of the goddess upon you."

Zelda paused there, releasing Link's hand and reaching behind herself to untie the heavy knot that fastened her thickly-folded wrap. The thin fabric was several times the size she'd had to fold it down to in order to fit it neatly around her shoulders, and she felt a moment's absurd fear that she wouldn't be able to free it, but it came undone easily. Link's head stayed bent, kneeling without complaint, right arm down and the left held diagonally across his chest, until he heard her take a breath to speak. He finally looked up, just in time to see her hold the folded cloth out to him with Hylia's symbol still uppermost.

"The blessings of the goddess drift down from the heavens aloft a sail, which I now pass on to you."

Link lifted his hands, palm-up, to take it from her. The same nameless unease that had haunted him when he woke up that morning returned with a sudden stab, and he felt a brief sense of reassurance as his fingers brushed against hers. Zelda withdrew her hands, leaving him holding the still-warm cloth alone, and he drew it back towards himself slowly before standing and, with a quick smile, making a small motion as if to lift it above his head and wave it high. Shielded from the crowd by his body, only Zelda could see it, and she raised one hand to her mouth, not quite hiding her sudden smile.

"Link!" she hissed. "Stop messing around. This is supposed to be a sacred ritual, remember?"

The familiar back-and-forth lifted the shadow from his spirit briefly as he lowered the cloth, and Zelda smiled at him, ignoring her own advice to continue talking under her breath.

"They say that the goddess gave a sailcloth like this one to her chosen hero long ago. You know, I've been working hard to finish this one in time to give it to today's champion…" Her smile broadened, and her voice dropped even further, barely above a whisper. "I'm really glad I got to give it to you, Link. Make sure you take good care of it, okay?"

Link nodded, smiling back.

"Thank you for making it up here today…" She shifted her weight, and suddenly stepped forward, realising she'd spent far longer talking than Link had with his teasing hint at striking a pose. "Now, we really should finish up this ritual…"

The bottom dropped out of Link's stomach.

"You… do know what happens at the end, right?" Zelda teased. Of course he did. He'd seen it every year since he first came to Skyloft to stay at the Knight Academy. But he was giving her the strangest look, like he'd suddenly got stage fright…

Link swallowed. "Uh…" He couldn't do it, he couldn't make the jump, and he didn't know why.

Zelda leant forwards, hands on hips. "Just what are you thinking? Don't be silly. This is your big moment, Link!" She stepped forwards until they were nose to nose, so close that if he twitched he'd touch her. "It's an easy jump!" She set her hands on his shoulders and spun him around before he could stop her. "Right into the centre of the design down there, remember?"

Circles within circles gazed up at him from the ground, clear of people, clear of any obstructions. The stone looked darker than he remembered it, more ominous than it had any right to, but Zelda continued lightly as if nothing was wrong.

"So, ready to jump?"

Link said nothing. He felt frozen. Something about the thought of falling holding that sailcloth – the beautiful sailcloth Zelda had made for him – horrified him. Mechanically, he felt for the corners; locked his hands into the strapping woven into them, keeping the majority of the cloth folded for the moment. His heart was racing, a sense of dread had engulfed him, and he didn't know why…

Oblivious to the depths of his sudden fear, Zelda set her hands swiftly against her friend's back and gave him a sudden, hard shove. Link yelped, the instincts of half a lifetime making him kick off from the edge even as he overbalanced, gaining precious clearance from the side; making him automatically spread his arms and legs and angle himself in the wind, steering towards his target in the brief moments he had in the air. Motion, action, had cleared his head: he could move again, despite the dread still gripping him. The sailcloth, still folded, was taut between his hands, and he released its folds just as he was about to pass over the very centre of the circle. The drag snapped his arms up, yanking at his bruised shoulder; dropped his feet; slowed his fall enough that though he dropped to one knee when he landed, it wasn't more than a jar.

The long-silenced crowd broke into wild applause as Link straightened up, and the tight knot of fear in his chest began to fade. He felt almost foolish: there was nothing here that was dangerous, nothing here that was anything but reassuring: sun and sky and the people of Skyloft. Why had leaping from the goddess' stone hands seemed so ominous? He turned to his left as Zelda swooped down atop her Loftwing to land nearby, crossing to him excitedly and stopping with her hands clasped in front of her.

"That was perfect! You're amazing, Link!"

Link smiled, the unease fading further, half-conscious of his own Loftwing landing behind him. The two stood together for a little as the crowd began to disperse, the ceremony over with Link's dive from the statue's hands. Zelda glanced at them, shifting her weight slightly as she waited for them all to leave, and looked back to him as the last of the stragglers filed away.

"You know, Link, seeing as how you won today… And with the weather being so nice… You think maybe you'd like to, you know, go fly around the clouds together?"

Link nodded, not even trying to stop himself grinning. "I'd love to!"

This chapter got a lot longer than I meant it to while writing it, so I ended up having to cut it here. I hope that's not too much of a disappointment! So far we see Skyloft have a long-term-sustainable population size of much more than 20 people, the Academy have a sustainable class size and graduation method, an important ceremony held in a public place actually have an audience, why Loftwings don't get names, and, of course, why the heck Groose wasn't expelled years ago.