When Zelda did not immediately follow Revali, the Rito turned and waited.

The girl pretended to ignore him, staring at the page of the open book in her hands as if her life depended on it. For a long moment neither moved, each hoping to outlast the other.

Urbosa sighed. "Give her a break, Revali," she advised. "She can pick it back up tomorrow."

It had been a rough day for all of them, but for the princess in particular. Though the girl had not uttered a word of complaint, the Gerudo had known her long enough by now-practically all her life-to know that she was barely holding on to her composure, and that the last thing she wanted was to go practice archery with the Rito Champion.

The Rito turned and raised an eyebrow at Urbosa, though he remained silent. It was clear there was something he wanted to say, but equally clear that he was making an effort not to, quite possibly for the sake of the Hylian Princess currently trying to hide her face in a book.

He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, then started back in their direction, closing the distance between himself and Zelda. Bending down, he slipped the book from hands that did not resist, closing it carefully and setting it aside. Then he took the girl by the arm and firmly guided her into a standing position.

As strong as he was, she could not have fought him off, but again the girl offered no resistance as he led her away from the group.

"Revali!" The Rito waved her off, and briefly Urbosa considered stepping in. If Zelda had resisted, she probably would have, and the action probably would have resulted in a fight.

As it was, the Gerudo made a mental note to take Revali aside later and make sure that she explained to him in no uncertain terms that in the future, he was not to attempt to physically force the princess-or anyone else, for that matter-to do anything they did not want to do.


Zelda tended her bow automatically while Revali set up the targets, telling herself that whatever else happened, she was not going to cry in front of the Rito. If he was going to make her practice anyway then she would do whatever she had to do to get through it, but she was not going to show any weakness.

"Self-pity never solved anything."

Zelda nearly dropped her bow. It was the first time he had spoken to her during her archery lessons. She turned to stare at him, misery warring with anger as the actual words sank in.

"Anger I can work with. Pity, not so much." He knocked one of his own arrows, pulled the string back, and released. The arrow hit the center of the target. "Sorrow is, at best, a distraction."

Ignoring him, she drew her own arrow and took aim. Her shot went wild, missing the target completely.

"Breathe."

Zelda raised her bow again, breathing in as she pulled the string, letting the air out as she let go. The arrow hit the target this time, but it was close.

"Focus. Are you actually trying to hit the target?"

"What do you know about sorrow?" Zelda demanded as she once again missed the target. "Or self-pity? Or anger?" Taking a breath to steady herself, she glared at it instead of him. "Did your mother die before she could teach you how to use the power of the goddess Hylia? Does your father remind you every day of your failure to learn how to control it anyway?" She loosed another arrow; this one was closer to the center. "Do your people watch you and whisper about your failures behind your back? Do you have to stand there and smile while everyone around you finds their place and where they fit in all this?"

Her arrows spent, she waited for Revali to take his turn. As ever, his aim was perfect. For some reason, it made the girl furious. She refused to look at him as they reclaimed their arrows. Angrily she searched for the two that had missed the target completely.

"Calamity Ganon will return, and if I don't figure out how to use my power then all this will have been for nothing. Hyrule will fall, its people will perish. And it will be all my fault." She found one and tucked it into her quiver. "And everyone either dances around the subject, or acts as if I don't understand how serious a matter this is. As if I don't know what's at stake. As if I'm simply not trying hard enough."

She scowled at the missing arrow. It must have hit and bounced off something hard; the tip had broken off. Her vision blurred as she stared at it. Hot tears began to fall. She felt rather than heard someone behind her and leaned forward, her shoulders hunching as she tried to hide her face so the Rito would not see the tears running down her cheeks.

Revali sat down beside her. If he noticed that she was crying he did not comment, instead choosing to remain silent.

"I had to teach myself to fly," he said after several long minutes. "Mostly trial and error, but at least I could watch other Rito, and try to imitate them." When Zelda did not reply, he continued. "When I first hatched, they told my parents I was too little, to weak. That I'd never be able to fly. That even if I managed to get off the ground I'd never be able to stay up in the air. They weren't supposed to teach me, weren't supposed to let me try. It was too dangerous. So when I got older, I had to figure it out by myself. It took a while, because for a long time I had no idea what I was doing."

Zelda did not look up. "Are you suggesting that the reason I'm having trouble figuring out how to use my power is I don't have anyone to teach me, so I have to figure it out by myself and I have no idea what I'm doing?" she asked, her voice catching.

"I'm just telling you a story," he said, his voice mild. "I thought you liked those."

"It had a happen ending, I assume."

"Eventually," the Rito admitted. "I managed to get into the air only to fall and break my wing when I landed on it wrong." He shifted to a more comfortable position. "Once it healed, it felt like I was starting all over again. And then I landed wrong and broke my wrist."

"And had to start again?"

"My mother started getting suspicious after I managed to dislocate my shoulder and my back in the same crash landing. It made sneaking away to practice that much harder."

"But now you're the best flyer out of all your people." Zelda pointed out. "Are you going to tell me it's because you didn't give up, and that's why I shouldn't give up? Is that the whole point of this? That if I keep trying I'll eventually get it right?"

"If you want that to be the moral of the story, sure." Revali gently plucked the broken arrow from her grasp. "I'm not really a moral of the story kind of guy, but I guess that works as well as anything else." He hesitated. "It's obvious you're doing everything you can. Anyone who can't see that is blind. But sometimes-sometimes you can do your best, but no matter how hard you work, and no matter how hard you want something, it still won't happen until you're ready. And sometimes it's hard to know when that is. And sometimes, you try to rush it, and you end up getting hurt."

The Princess looked up as he sighed and fell silent. Revali sat with one leg stretched out in front of him, one leg bent at the knee with his arms thrown around it for balance, staring out into the distance. His expression was thoughtful, if slightly troubled.

"So what happened, when you finally learned to fly? Were your parents proud of you?" When he did not immediately react, she wondered if he had gotten lost in thought. "Revali?"

"Hmm?" He turned to look at her, blinking. Gesturing with the broken arrow, he said, "The tip's gone, but that's easy enough to fix. The rest of the arrow is intact; I have replacement tips back at camp."

Zelda tried to discretely wipe her face with her hands, but ended up having to retrieve her handkerchief and use it. Embarrassed, she said, "You probably never cried, not even when you were little, did you?"

Revali rolled his eyes. "Of course I did. I spent years trying to learn to do something everyone thought was impossible. That's years of work. Years of trying, and years of failing. Of course I cried." He sighed. "But crying didn't help. It didn't make me better. It didn't make me stronger. So I learned to be angry instead of sad. That worked, I guess."

Zelda finished wiping her face and looked around. "It's going to be getting dark soon," she said. "I'm surprised no one's come looking for us."

"I'm pretty sure they're waiting for us to come back before the shouting starts." Revali did not look worried, though now that the Hylian thought about it, he had likely upset every one of their companions, with the possible exception of Daruk, by making her come out here when she clearly did not feel like it. They were probably all back at camp, imagining him shouting at her to focus and insisting that just because she was crying didn't mean she couldn't still hit the target while she did it.

"We should probably go." Revali shrugged.

"When you're ready."


Disclaimer: The Legend of Zelda Universe, Breath of the Wild in particular, does not belong to me.