Hey Mimi, that's really nice to hear! I hope you enjoy whatever else you read. (Though, if you read anything from around 20 years ago, I apologise for the slightly shaky quality; I started posting here before I really hit my stride as an author, and you can kind of tell with the early stories.) Thanks again for sticking with me and reviewing along all this time. =D

And Birdie, thanks! I'm really glad you thought all the bits and pieces in that chapter worked - especially Kukiel's parents, the game just kind of dangles that there and never has anything happen again, and something certainly ought to! Many hearts to you too; I really appreciate the reviews.

Chapter 22: Reflections

Kukiel's parents had offered to let Link stay at their house overnight, but, his mind too full of all that had happened, wanting too urgently to talk to Fi, he'd thanked them and refused. He'd hurried back through the night, alert and wary, confident that he could run far more easily from anything that might have threatened him now that he no longer had Kukiel to pull along or carry, and indeed, nothing of note had stood in his way. Pipit had been on patrol outside – he took night duty more frequently than any of the other upperclassmen – and had been surprised and relieved to see him, but Link had brushed past him quickly, explaining only that he'd found the missing girl, that she was safe, and that he was tired. It was, at least, all true.

Link picked his way quiet as a ghost through the corridors, lit by the flickering light of his lantern and what small light filtered through the windows, listening to the not-quite-silence of the night: to the wind outside; the creaks and ticks of the old building settling; the muffled sound somewhere of someone briefly talking in their sleep and startling him. Reaching his door, he opened it thankfully and slipped inside, setting the sword down carefully across his chair, removing his boots, putting his shirt aside for cleaning and mending, and… hesitating.

Maybe he'd just sleep in his trousers.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. It felt wonderfully soft; too much so to risk lying back on, stuffed with loftwing down. He'd be asleep in moments.

"Fi," he breathed instead, "can I talk to you?"

The muted chime as much felt as heard sounded as Fi vaulted from the sword, seeming to hold her own light independent of the lantern as she hovered before him, only a pace or so from the bed.

"You are able to converse with me at all times, Master."

"Yeah, well… only if you want to." Fi said nothing, and Link continued after a moment. "I wanted to talk about Batreaux." And… "You don't like him, but… you thought he was telling the truth, right? That he doesn't want to hurt anyone?"

"He did not have hostile intentions," Fi confirmed. "That is immaterial, however. Batreaux has Fallen from his station, corrupting his being. As a demon, his very existence is inimical to life. For as long as such a being exists, it will corrupt all that is around it."

Link swallowed. "But… he can't help that."

Fi bent at the waist, at the neck, leaning abruptly closer with her head on a level with Link's. "Nevertheless, it is a fact, Master. By choosing to dwell beneath this island, Batreaux is bringing harm upon its residents."

Link thought back to the strange, monstrous being below the island: to his fear, his uncomplicated delight, his evident loneliness. Other than his appearance, than his own admission that he was a demon, he seemed about as far from the evil of something like Ghirahim as it was possible to be. Fi's blank gaze seemed to stare uncompromisingly into his soul, yet Link chose to meet it, staring back into the inhuman face so close to his own.

"I can't hurt him, Fi. Not if he doesn't want to hurt anyone. He's just lonely, and likes people. I know people who are much worse people than he seems to be." He faced down her disapproval, determined. "What if we could find a way to help him stop being a demon? Then there wouldn't be any more… inimical aura. He became a demon somehow, so there's got to be a way to not be one, right?"

Fi drew back, her expression seeming particularly still, and Link felt that she was thinking, searching her vast knowledge.

"I do not recommend this course of action, Master."

"But it's possible, right?"

"Master Link, according to his own account Batreaux deviated from his purpose as a spirit and thus Fell due to his interest in humans. It is highly improbable that you would be able to reinstate him given this condition. Other avenues are equally improbable or even fatal to one or more participants."

Link pressed his lips together briefly, an unconscious determined line. "One percent is still a chance, Fi. What if, after we've found Zelda, I try to ask Great Spirit Levias on his behalf? He said he was too scared to talk to him, so maybe there's still something he could do to help." He stood up, facing the intangible spirit who floated before him. "I'm scared to let there be a demon up here, Fi. Everything I saw on the surface… I never want anything like that to live up here. But you know he doesn't mean any harm, and so do I. If I don't try to help him just because of what he is, even though he seems like a good person, then I'd be evil too. That would be wrong."

Fi gazed at him for a long moment, and something indefinable seemed to shift in her demeanour. She followed his reasoning, though she knew that she weighted its elements differently; that the wrongness of Batreaux the demon was a far greater factor in her decisions than in his. That the decision to do as she had been created to would have gone against her wielder's moral code; that he would refuse the significantly simpler and more plausible option in favour of seeking a better solution, however implausible or dangerous…

"Very well, Master. I accept your decision. We will seek aid from greater spirits."

Link smiled, relieved, grateful. "Thanks, Fi." He sat down again, silently companionable for a few moments, and when he spoke again it was quietly, almost tentative. "…Why does it bother you so much that he has this aura? I mean, I know it's a bad thing, but…?"

Fi wondered if her master had sensed elements of her analysis through their connection. Regardless, it was a simple enough question to answer. "I was created to be wielded by the chosen of the goddess for the express purpose of destroying corrupted spirits become demons, and as a secondary purpose more generally to protect the goddess' people from evil. Thus, it is an element of my purpose to eliminate demons such as Batreaux, regardless of their intentions."

Link thought for a short while, looking at her, looking almost concerned. She could sense his general intentions; the nature of his thoughts. Conflicted, concerned, not wanting to cause harm.

"It's not going to hurt you, is it, helping me try to help him?" he finally ventured, surprising her.

"No, Master Link." Fi searched through her knowledge as she spoke. His concern was unexpected, but worthy of approval. Perhaps her comprehensive database of human reactions and emotions would permit her to demonstrate that in a way that he would interpret correctly. "Although it is part of my purpose to destroy such things, I am designed to require a wielder. I am not capable of independent action; my purpose in this matter is to inform and aid you. Since you intend to attempt to remove the demon, albeit in an as yet indeterminate fashion, and since your moral code is one of the reasons that you are the wielder I was created for, I assent to your judgement in this situation." Selecting an option, she chose to drift slightly closer, reducing the distance between them by a small amount.

Once again, Link smiled a little, though her statement seemed to have set his mind to more turmoil, rather than less. "Thanks, Fi. Tell me if I do something that you aren't okay with, all right?"

Fi nodded, once, a brief and exact motion. "I will."

Silence fell for a short while, and Link finally blew out the lantern and turned sideways, drawing his feet up onto the bed and pulling the blankets over himself. Fi considered this an improvement; she had detected his beginning to feel cold. As he lay back and she turned to return her projection to the sword, however, he spoke again.

"Fi…"

"Yes, Master Link?" she asked, turning back to him. He was looking at her, tired, open, almost tentative, maybe warm.

"You know… what Kukiel asked us, about… you know."

Outwardly, Fi remained impassive. Inwardly, analysis processes raced, negotiating the edges of the faults in her programming.

"You don't have to talk about it. I feel like you don't want to… do you?"

"The information is not directly relevant, Master."

"Yeah. Well… I… If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. But, if you do… you can. I'll listen, I promise." He sighed, turning his head to gaze up at the ceiling, eyes already half-closed in the darkness. "It makes me feel strange… and I don't know why…"

Fi considered her options. The information was not directly relevant, as she had stated. It was as likely to hinder his progress at this stage as it was to assist him. Although it preyed upon his mind, the knowledge remained sealed at a level below the subconscious, a level that in normal situations a human would be unable to access. Considering all known elements of her creator's plan and the instructions she had been given, Fi did not find herself able to conclude that it would necessarily remain so. If that were to be the case, it was more important that he receive the information in a controlled fashion and at a suitable time than at some unpredictable moment when the barriers of a mortal mind dropped unexpectedly. Thus, she concluded that she would have to explain to some degree.

Strangely, the conclusion did not exacerbate any of the pre-existing errors that it might have been expected to. It was meaningless to say such a thing without analysis, but Fi experienced an unusual moment of predicting the results prior to carrying one out: that it was a correct decision.

It was not, however, a correct decision at this moment.

"I recommend that you sleep, Master Link. You are significantly tired, and it will take a toll on your capacities tomorrow if you do not."

Link smiled faintly, his eyes almost closed. "All right. Goodnight, Fi…"

"Goodnight, Master."

As his eyes shut, she returned her projection to the sword.

Perhaps it would prove possible that Link would be able to assist her long-stalled error analysis. If they were able to reach the spirit maiden relatively swiftly, then she might also provide assistance, but Link's presence, at least, was a certainty, whereas the plans and decisions of Goddess Hylia were only as yet probabilities, their future unknown.

You know, I don't think I have any explicit patch notes today? Everything here is based on patches I've already made. Wild.

They're pretty sweet talking, though.