They hadn't had too much left in the day before night was looming overhead. The sky seemed so different from this angle, though if someone was to ask her how, she would be hard pressed to tell them. It just seemed so high. So far away.

She worried for the first little bit of their trip, that Link was going to send her back now that he had a surefire way of doing so. These statues, the old, old ones that had the ability to assist people in going to and from the sky, were scattered throughout the woods they were venturing through. They'd come across a few both broken and whole, and while Tya would have adored being able to look at them, she was… not doing the best?

An understatement.

Her shoulders ached and her legs were tired. Both things she could handle, but she hadn't slept the night before and she hadn't eaten either. She was dizzy, and her physical ailments were only half the problem. Her mind hadn't calmed in how persistent it was, presenting her with anything from guilt to paranoia to hatred and then, after having to deal with it, to the desire for death just to shut herself up.

She didn't even know how she could manage to be both numb and overwhelmed- it made no sense to feel nothing but everything, yet here she was. And the worst part of it was now that Link was going to have to deal with it.

He did not deserve to have to put up with her.

Running off would call his attention and make him follow, and continuing while she was having her internal breakdown risked him looking back and seeing her in such a sad state.

She needed to go home.

"Link," she called to the boy guiding her, earning a hum of acknowledgement back. "It is getting dark," she said. "We likely shouldn't stay in the night, should we? We-" she really, really didn't want to stay the night. Homesickness was causing her chest to ache. But there were valid, less self centered reasons in there somewhere, right? She swallowed, sniffling some and trying to force her thoughts on a track that wasn't her own selfishness.

It didn't work.

She was going to selfishly abandon her.

It was for the best, she didn't belong here. She wasn't cut out to be here to begin with when it came to the basics of battle. She knew enough on survival and exploration to possibly get by, but clearly there was something divine at work here too.

Something holy, something big, a destiny which did not include her. She was not supposed to be here.

Stop.

Stop Stop Stop Stop Stop.

She steeled, but it was far too late for that. In the smallest lapse of her focus, the careful mask of neutrality she'd constructed outwardly fell.

She hadn't heard the little whine that escaped her, nor had she realized just how awful she looked until Link turned back to see why she'd stopped speaking.

The way his expression shifted to concern filled her with a knowing dread, and she shook her head. She waved her hands in the only manner she could think to communicate; in a wordless plea to not notice her. Link either didn't listen or didn't understand, as he moved to her and gently swept her hands up in his own.

"You're right," she heard him say. Her eyes closed tight, the pressure forcing hot tears down her cheeks that she hadn't even noticed welling until they fell. He shouldn't have to deal with this.

In truth, Zelda shouldn't have had to either.

Goddess she was such a fucking nuisance.

"Let's head back bef-before it- before it does get too late."

They shouldn't leave her.

If it was unsafe for them it was unsafe for Zelda, who was alone and unarmed and without supplies and possibly injured and lost.

She was close by and by leaving they risked furthering this separation. Losing her again, putting them farther from one another.

"I'm wrong," Tya tried. She couldn't fully express her concerns. This train of thought was going well over the designated speed limit to the point that all of its individual cars were a blur she was struggling to cling to it.

"You're not," Link assured. For a moment she tried to articulate an argument, but no words came and it seemed they didn't need to because he moved on to say "putting ourselves in dan- in danger w-won't help her."

But it would. If they could get to her, then they could wait out the night together, and return home in the morning. It would be safer together.

She again shook her head, and Link, the good sweet boy he was, offered her only a smile before patting the back of her hand. "She's smart."

That was all he said before rerouting his current direction back to the last of the statues they'd seen.

She followed in silence. Mostly silence. She was desperately trying to stop the tears but to no avail. Link was sticking closer, and she hated it, but at least he was more focused on something else than on this.

Some part of her noted the fact that they had no idea how to work these apparent artifacts. Some part of her also noted Link searching and trying to figure it out, then the ghost in the sword coming forth to offer assistance.

They talked. Tya paid little attention, wallowing in her own self-pity too much to listen. Then Link came back to her, peeling the edge of her sailcloth off her shoulder. Upon being startled by his touch, Link said softly "Fi says we need them" as he nodded back toward the still lingering spirit.

Tya sniffled again. Her vision was still clouded with tears, but the blue of the spirit's cold presence was still bright enough to be visible to her.

She slipped the cloth down, gripping the tightly built straps that would help her hang on, then nodded to indicate she was prepared.

Fi, who she assumed was the ghost, bowed her head as Link turned back to do the same. Upon her signal, the statue glowed. Light spilled through cracks that had formed, though not so bright it was blinding. More an indication of functionality. Then, from the beak of the bird that rested at its peak, was a heavy gust of air that swept beneath both sailcloths.

Before she knew it, she was on Corrdrin. The familiarity of his down was such a welcomed comfort that she leaned forward into him. She nestled into the light orange plumage and, in all honesty, could have fallen asleep.

But Corrdrin was, unfortunately, smarter than he looked and had guessed that following Link was the way to go without guidance from his rider. So he did so, and as Link coaxed a landing from his own rare beast, Corrdrin followed a touch less gracefully. More along the lines of a helicopter with a new pilot.

She had almost fallen asleep, and without the cold of the wind hitting her, she would have been all the more pleased to go to sleep right on him. But Link had other ideas and tapped her arm to get her attention. He waved for her to dismount and, though reluctant, she complied and slid to her feet.

She noticed that they'd landed very close to her home and was pleased by the fact that she wouldn't have to do more walking. The only thing that kept her from going inside, was something Link was already taking off her hands. He had already unlatched the harness from around Corrdrin and was working on doing the same for his own as Tya headed for the door and Corrdrin, for his nesting area at the side of her cottage.

She could hear him trotting around in the bedding, see the tips of one extended wing as he held it out for balance. It was a small comfort, but one nonetheless.

"When was th-the last time- the last time you ate?" Link asked. Another testament to the fact that she was not cut out to be on the surface was the fact that she had not seen or noticed him coming up behind her.

She pushed the door open and moved inside. The familiar aura of her home eased her mind, but that wasn't entirely a good thing. No longer having to focus on carrying the heavy burden, her legs were weak and begging to be relieved of her weight.

Her bedroom wasn't far, but Link had come inside and for as much as she wanted to go to bed, she wasn't confident enough that she would make it that far. Instead, she plopped herself into a chair. An old one. One her mother used to adore. She sat far too erect, her eyes distant toward an unlit fireplace, and Link, unknowing to even the larger details of her life, stung her with the sorrow of nostalgia in a way only she would know.

There was a blanket draped over the back of the chair. One of many things that she and her mother had in common, was the fact that this blood that coursed their veins was so very warm. It meant that, in the cool atmosphere of Skyloft, they often found themselves very cold.

Another indication that she was never meant to make it to a place like this.

And another thought that was dismissed as the blanket on the back was pulled off and draped kindly around her shoulders.

It was a sweet gesture. A caring one. One she had witnessed so many times as her father would do the same for her mother so, so often. It was love there, rather than obligation as it was here, but that didn't stop the memory from arising. He would then hand her a book, kiss her temple, and Tya could recall that she had asked for hot chocolate so often on those nights, that Cain had just decided it was a staple. Whether she voiced the desire or not, he would go off and return with two cups filled with cinnamon and sweet boiling hot chocolate. And one of his own which he would have to let cool for some time.

She was crying again.

This time, she was conscious of it.

Not so much in the fact that she had burrowed into the blanket, but it was for the best. She didn't want anyone to see her cry. She knew Link was kind, but that didn't mean she enjoyed this vulnerability being seen by a stranger. She hadn't even shown something quite so pathetic to Zelda. Only she, herself, had ever seen this. She and Cain, who would brush out her hair and assure her gently that his firefly had no need for tears, but if they helped, let them out.

When had she stopped letting them out?

When she no longer had anyone to tell her it was alright to do so, she guessed.

When she came up for air, she realized that Link had moved to kneel in front of her. His patience was unwavering, as was the kindness she could see even in the depths of his sky blue eyes.

"You do not need to stay," she told him, her voice cracking much to her dismay.

"I don't m-mind," he assured. "If you want me to le- to leave, just say. I won't be offended."

She didn't.

She didn't want to talk, but she didn't want to be alone.

She swallowed hard, the lump of emotion in her throat almost refusing to go down. "The day before yesterday," she answered, and at first, Link didn't seem to know what she meant. But it dawned on him, that she was answering the question he had asked earlier, and with that, came concern. "...I was too… I didn't want to eat before the ceremony. Nervous, I suppose."

"Nervous?"

She simply nodded. Explaining further seemed incredibly draining, and to her surprise Link just accepted this as an answer. "Do you have anything to make?"

She looked back toward the kitchen. The backs of the counters were set against a half wall, the only partition for the kitchen and living room.

"Likely," she answered. "I am not that hungry, but help yourself."

Link patted her knee before rising to his feet so he could move off to find his way around her kitchen. She couldn't find it in herself to be concerned over whether or not the boy could cook or anything at that moment. Instead, she adjusted and pulled her legs up into the chair with her. She had to curl for it but managed a position where she rested her head on the arm as well as bundled up in the throw she had been draped in.

Tired as she was, one would think she would be fast asleep by the time Link returned but this position wasn't exactly comfortable and her body didn't know the meaning of 'beggers can't be choosers'. She had achieved that inconvenient state between sleep and awake where it was hard to tell what was real and what was an oncoming dream. The sounds of his movements were all there, but not consciously until she felt the back of his hand nudge her shoulder.

Even then there was hesitation in opening her eyes, half sure that that hadn't actually happened. But she could feel the warmth of steam against her face and finally elected to look at what he was doing.

A very simple meal was being held down to her. A bowl of rice. Anyone could make it, but why was he offering it when she had said no?

"You need t' eat." He said, nudging it toward her again. She didn't want to, but she knew he was right regardless. Besides, even this short time curled up was making her knees hurt, so she wasn't opposed to stretching back out she guessed.

She accepted the food though her appetite had long since been consumed itself by her unwavering worry. Two days was too long though and she was already dizzy. She had noticed her weakness as well, though that of her hands hadn't registered until she noted the constant tremor in her hands was worse than usual. Almost to the point that she struggled to eat anything at all.

Link had, at some point, removed his items- his belts, sword, and shield. He looked much more comfortable then, and, after having eaten a little bit, Tya had settled back against the chair. Her elbow was propped on the arm, her hand in a fist on which she sat her chin. She hadn't noticed her staring mostly because it was far more like she'd spaced out than anything. But Link paused after a few seconds, tilting his head much like a curious puppy.

His movements caught her attention, and the focus returned to her expression though she didn't move. "You'll be staying here, I presume?"

He shook his head. "No," he had to swallow a bite first before speaking again. "I just didn't want to le-leave you alone whi-while you were…" he gestured toward her with his bowl. The corner of his lips flickered up as she grimaced at the acknowledgment of her state.

"Then you should stay," she continued.

He hesitated a moment, then looked to the couch he was already sat on and nodded his head. "If that's what you want."

She was too tired to hide the fact that it was. "I do not want to talk. Do you?"

His own expression faltered. He kept his attention on his bowl, scooping out a little bit of rice, and in his silence, she said "I do not mind. I can't imagine you're any more pleased than I am, and you don't need to hide for my sake."

He lowered the bowl to his lap, looking toward the unlit fireplace as well. "Not gr-great at-" a sheepish little laugh left as he just pointed to his mouth. Having just struggled to carry out that sentiment, she understood.

"It's okay," she said. "It doesn't bother me. If you'd like to talk, I am capable of listening. I cannot say I have advice to give in this. I don't even know what this is."

He mouthed 'right' at that, seeming to remember something, though what, she didn't know. Link knew she'd been in the room for a short time when he was being granted the ghostly blade- being given Fi. He also knew she had fled upon presumably being outed by Gaepora's presence.

Gaepora hadn't gotten the time to talk to her about that. Link had seen her descent shortly after he'd landed and had, in his confusion, made his way to her.

So she really had no further information on what was happening. Only the vague indication that this was some divine swordly intervention with an old tent lady to guide him.

"Some sort of…" Link tilted his head once again. "Prophecy? There's an ap-apoc- an apoc-... The end of the wo-world. A-Apparently I got cho-chosen to stop it."

"You are certainly taking it far better than most," Tya said. Again, he replied with another sheepish laugh that indicated that might not be the case. "And Zelda?"

"Sh-She's the Spirit Maiden?" He said, clearly unsure of what all that entailed. Tya couldn't say she knew any better. It still sounded far too much like a book to be real, but it hadn't gone away yet. She was beginning to accept the reality, to a very, very small extent.

"So bringing her home is not exactly an option, I presume?"

Link shrugged.

It didn't seem like it. For as much as she wanted to get Zel and drag her back, she knew that she was far too good a person to ever abandon a quest to keep the world from ending. Most people were, actually. Tya was just selfish and far more opposed to change than she was to death.

In fact, death still sounded brilliant right now. Wildly preferred. She wanted to apologize to him, for being dead weight. For dragging him here, and for various other nondescript things her mind was telling her she needed to apologize for. But she was so tired.

"You can help yourself to whatever you'd like," she told him, voice dull and bland as she pushed the throw off her shoulders. Leaving it behind ached in some old way that was always present just dormant for the most part. But what part of her, interior and exterior, didn't ache? "I am going to go to sleep."

She heard him reply with a soft "goodnight" as she made her way to her bedroom. She should have cleaned herself up or even changed clothes, but she didn't. Instead, she just crawled into the bed, pulled the covers over her head, and fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.