AN: Edited 03/22/2019

Pipit's stomach dropped to his feet, and the wind screamed in his ears as they shot into the black expanse of the sky. The pair erupted through the cool cloud barrier, leaving a poof of mist in their wake. Unable to restrain his glee, Pipit let out a whoop of joy as they ascended into the air.

They had escaped.

They were free.

"We did it!" he shouted to his friend as their ascent into the sky began to slow.

His brother gave no response.

"Link?"

The two knights reached the peak of their climb. They floated for a fleeting moment.

And then they began to fall.

"Link!" Still nothing. "LINK!" Pipit looked up at the younger knight and paled. Link's eyes were closed, and his limp arms flailed in the wind. He had passed out, and the sailcloth still clutched in one hand periodically caught the gusts, sending both knights into the start of a tailspin.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit! Pipit's mind reeled, trying to come up with a solution. Pipit couldn't whistle with one hand, so he needed to let go of Link and call for his Loftwing. But he couldn't just let Link fall and die, either. And the longer he held on, the more out of control their tailspin became.

A dim light flashed in the distance as the world spun dizzyingly fast. That's it! The Skyknights! The third shift knights were patrolling. Maybe if they were spotted, they could be rescued. But Link and Pipit were a long ways from the Skyloft mainland. The Skyknights didn't keep watch this far out, and even if they were miraculously spotted, there was no way the patrol would reach them in time.

They were going to fall and die.

No, no, no, no, NO! THINK FASTER!

Options…options…option A: let go of Link, call for loftwing, bird rescues me, Link is not rescued, Link falls to his death. Option B: hold on to Link, don't whistle for loftwing because I can't, we both fall to our deaths.

There was no option C, and he was quickly running out of time. Pipit was at war with himself, and he couldn't bring himself to root for either side. He despised both options, and he was quickly growing to despise himself for the decision he would inevitably have to make.

There was only one viable choice.

I have to let go of Link.

But he couldn't!

I have to!

But then Link would die!

If I don't let go, I will die!

Then he was killing Link!

Yeah, well guess what? EITHER WAY, LINK DIES.

He was going to kill his brother.

What else can I do? Either he dies or we both die. He would do the same thing if he were in my shoes!

Goddess damnit, he was killing his brother to save his own skin!

…Yeah…I am…because I don't have to die with him. One of us can still live.

Live? Did he honestly think he would be able to live with himself after this?

That thought caught Pipit off guard. No, he probably wouldn't be able to live with himself. He would always blame himself for Link's death, even though it was entirely out of his hands.

Even so…

At least I'll be alive.

And he called himself a Skyknight. He was no Skyknight. He was a traitor. An alive traitor, which only made it worse.

In that moment, Pipit hated himself.

"I'm sorry, Link."

Gritting his teeth, Pipit let out a cry of guilt and grief and shoved himself away from his helpless friend. His forefingers went to his mouth and he let out a long whistle, praying that his mount would reach him in time. He could sense it, but only barely.

Pipit threw his limbs out wide, attempting to slow his free fall and lessen the chaotic tumble. After a few turns and some precise adjustments, he was able to right himself. Link was still spiraling out of control, the sailcloth flapping uselessly in his hand. There was nothing Pipit could do but watch, wait, and say goodbye. Tears welled in his eyes and he tore his gaze away, too ashamed of himself to stand looking at his brother anymore.

Instead, he angled himself in preparation to mount his loftwing when it arrived, just like they had done for several years now.

And then he waited as he plummeted closer and closer to the cloud barrier.

Suddenly, a scream of moonlit scarlet barreled past him and snatched Link out of the air. The crimson frenzy banked hard and shot back towards the Skyloft mainland in a blur, spiraling back into the darkness just as quickly as it had come forth. It was gone without a single regard for Pipit's increasingly dire circumstance.

Was that…Link's loftwing?

Pipit squinted into the darkness as he fell, trying to follow the scarlet storm, but it had vanished into the night sky. The young knight also could not see his own mount, much to his growing horror. The only sailcloth was still gripped tightly in Link's hand, which meant that…

I'm the one falling to my death.

He supposed it served him right.

By now, Pipit was practically past the point of no return. His loftwing—if it even came—would not have any room to maneuver underneath him for a standard mount. There simply wasn't enough time left.

He really was going to die.

I just…I just wish I could have said goodbye.

The cloud barrier grew beneath him, encompassing his entire field of vision.

To my mom…

The wind howled in his ears, lamenting his premature departure from the world above.

To Karane…

The mist kissed his face as he sank into the cool fog.

To—

Strong talons abruptly locked around Pipit's chest and hips. His head whipped down violently as his body was wrenched upwards. Suddenly, he was very, very disoriented. He couldn't tell left from right, up from down, forwards from backwards. All sense of equilibrium was lost. He didn't even know what his name was.

He was flying. Then floating. Then falling for a fleeting second. A pillow of tawny feathers appeared beneath him and he instinctively grabbed onto the soft down.

And then he was flying again. Except he wasn't the one doing the flying. No, that would be the loftwing beneath him.

…Wait, what?

What…happened?

It came back to him slowly as he blinked the floating stars out of his vision. The volcano. The rescue mission. The horrid, bloody nightmare known as the Surface. The awful, thumping headache that relentlessly pounded from the base of his skull up to his temples. No, no he didn't have that before. That was new. Regardless, he was very grateful for the unexpected arrival of his loftwing and the flood of relief it brought as it flew through the sky.

"Thanks, buddy," he said as he patted the bird's neck. It cawed softly in response and zoomed towards Skyloft as the young man rested his head on its feathers.

Pipit allowed himself to relax against his loftwing as it soared through the firmament. With the threat of immanent death gone, the adrenaline quickly wore off and he realized just how exhausted he was. His limbs felt like they were made of lead. His ankle—previously numbed to the injury he had incurred upon landing on the Surface—throbbed with renewed vigor. His ribs protested every breath. More than anything, though, he was completely zapped. He was sorely tempted to allow the gentle rocking of the flight and the cool atmosphere of the sky to lull him into a much-needed sleep. Had it really been two days since he had gotten any rest?

He could really use a nap.

A minute or two passed as his mount neared the Skyloft mainland. Against his will, Pipit nodded off a few times on the soft, tawny down, but a chilling sound startled him into alertness. It was a noise he hadn't heard in years. Not since his father died, and it shook him to his bones.

Link's loftwing was screaming.

The crimson bird came into view as Pipit's own mount prepared to land. Link lay on the ground in a bloody, crumpled heap. His loftwing stood protectively over him, flapping its wings erratically and making frantic screeching noises into the night sky. They reverberated through Pipit's body, and he couldn't help but cringe at their intensity. Still in his nightclothes, Headmaster Gaepora was already hurrying towards the frenzied bird and its motionless rider. Anytime he tried to get close, however, the crimson loftwing would lash out and drive him back.

The crazed attacking, the frenzied movements, the unrelenting screaming…there was only one explanation for the bird's behavior.

The crimson loftwing was mourning his rider.

I didn't make it in time? He's…gone?

Pipit immediately shook his head, trying to derail the negative train of thought. His head objected to the movement with an increase in pounding, but he ignored it, too preoccupied with the current situation. He couldn't think about that possibility right now, not after everything he had gone through to save his brother.

Pipit's dusky loftwing landed near Link, but out of range of the crimson mount's erratic flailing. Pipit gently eased himself down, trying to stay off of his injured ankle and avoid any unnecessary twisting. As he stood, though, he could tell something was off. Noises began to fade away, replaced by a high-pitched ringing and the whooshing of blood pumping in his ears. A swell of dizziness stole his balance. He felt himself slowly tip to the side, and he reached a tingling hand out to steady himself against his loftwing. The periphery of his vision grew dark, and the blackness reduced his eyesight down to tunnel vision.

Blinking hard and focusing on taking deep breaths, Pipit waited through the vertigo until his body adjusted to his now upright position. As his senses gradually returned to him and he regained his equilibrium, his loftwing took a few slow steps back, putting distance between itself and Link's bird.

The enraged animal was out of control. If nothing was done, it would hurt someone. Pipit was a budding expert in loftwings. He knew how to calm them down and soothe their fears, and he had done so many times in his nineteen short years. Confident in his expertise, Pipit put a hand forward and called out, "Red, relax. You need to—"

The scarlet loftwing whipped his head around and caught sight of Pipit. Its feathers twitched and its eyes narrowed as it glared daggers at the young man.

The only warning Pipit had was a slight buzzing feeling in his head before his mind was ruthlessly invaded. He cried out against the severity of it and reflexively pressed his palms to his temples. Wave after wave of raw emotion—emotion that did not belong to him—burst into his unprotected mind. It ravaged through him, nearly bringing him to his knees with its sizzling intensity. The painful vehemence threatened to consume him as each surge compounded with the previous one.

Panic.

Terror.

Wrath.

Hatred.

Vengeance.

"YOU…" the venomous voice boomed in his mind. It dripped with malice and the need for retribution.

Pipit paled. This…this had never happened before. Loftwings didn't speak. They couldn't. It shouldn't be possible. "Red, what—"

"YOU DID THIS."

"No no no no no, I didn't—"

"YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE!"

The crimson terror wrenched itself out of Pipit's psyche and stalked towards him, tail feathers fanning out and twitching in rage. Pipit hastily backed away, but his ankle gave out underneath him. He stumbled to the ground and scrambled backwards. Red approached him slowly, hissing and spreading its massive wings in a display of power. The young knight was helpless. He could not defend himself against the furious animal.

It shrieked and lunged for the terrified man, but a flurry of brown feathers tackled it to the side. Red roared in outrage and thrashed against Pipit's loftwing, easily overpowering it as the two birds rolled on the grass.

Pipit reached out through their bond and relayed, "Can you keep him off us?"

The writhing mass of down tumbled across the ground, each bird spewing feathers, slashing at the other with razor sharp talons, and jabbing vulnerable spots with their beaks while they tried to gain the upper hand. Pipit was answered by a frantic string of images that flashed into his mind as his mount dodged a blur of attacks. Its massive size, its overwhelming strength, its incredible speed…the crimson loftwing outmatched its opponent in every way. If this was allowed to continue, Red would kill Pipit's mount.

Lights in the sky, once distant, flashed as they drew nearer. The skyknights were coming to assess the commotion.

"Just hold on," Pipit responded as he stood up and limped towards Link. "Help is on the way."

The clash continued as Skyknights and their mounts arrived and leapt into action, jumping into the feathered frenzy and trying to separate the two loftwings. Red tossed one of them to the side and bucked a second one off without losing his grip on Pipit's mount. Pipit rushed to Link as fast as his injured leg would carry him and dropped to his knees beside his unconscious brother.

"Dear Goddesses…" the headmaster whispered in horror as he knelt over the bloodied knight. Shaking him gently, he pleaded, "Link, my boy, can you hear me? Link!"

The hero did not respond.

Pipit heart skipped a beat. He swallowed past the lump forming in his throat. "Was I too late? Is he—"

A loftwing cried out as Pipit felt a sharp lance of pain in his shoulder, pain that wasn't his own. He let out a soft yelp and grabbed the joint, but the pain was gone as quickly as it had come. Pipit turned towards the battling mounts, but he couldn't make anything out in the darkness.

Gaepora was silent for a moment as he assessed the blonde man he had cared for like his own son. "Not yet. He is still with us, but we must hurry." The large man gently scooped up the broken hero into his arms and barked off to a nearby knight, "Wake Owlan and have him prep for triage. The rest of you, get that loftwing under control before it hurts someone." The knights nodded and sprinted off to execute the headmaster's orders. "And Pipit," he continued as he started towards the academy, "go fetch Karane and bring her to Owlan's room. He is going to need her assistance with this one."

The crimson loftwing was tackled to the ground once more as several other mounts closed in on it, pinning it to the ground. It bucked against its captors and screamed in outrage. The bird fought against those restraining it with every ounce of its strength, and the other loftwings struggled to keep it down with their talons. A net was thrown over it and staked to the ground. When the mount realized that it was trapped, its fury quickly devolved into despair. It stopped resisting the knights and howled into the night sky. It was a wail of misery, the sound of one who had lost everything.

A cry of hopelessness.

Pipit burst through the academy doors and made towards the staircase, clutching his chest with one hand. His angry ankle radiated with heat and pulsed painfully with each rapid heartbeat. That, however, was nothing compared to his side. He tried to limit himself to shallow breaths that didn't stretch his ribcage, but even those sent sharp currents through his chest. He had to stop for a moment and lean against the wall to catch his breath and give himself a short reprieve.

Right now, though, Pipit had more important things to worry about than his own physical condition.

A door to his side squeaked shut and a questioning voice spoke up. "Whoa, Pipit, you look awful. What happened?"

Pipit glanced over at the culprit. A confused Cawlin stood in the hallway, taking in the senior knight's haggard appearance. "Not right now, Cawlin," Pipped quipped in irritation as he pushed himself off of the wall and hobbled towards the stairwell. He did not have time to endure any pestering. Cawlin could wait. For the past forty-eight hours, Pipit had gone through hell and back, and he did not have the patience to deal with other students right now, especially this one.

The squat student did not take the hint. He hurried over to the injured man, cut him off, and pressed, "A screaming loftwing woke me up, and there are knights everywhere. Seriously, Pipit, what's going—?"

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the overwhelming stress, or the fact that his closest friend was inches from death, but something inside Pipit snapped.

Rage bubbled up from deep in his belly. His nostrils flared and the bridge of his nose wrinkled up as he got in the other student's face and roared, "I SAID NOT NOW!"

Cawlin's eyes went wide, his jaw slacked, and his face lost its color. After an echoing moment, Pipit realized what he had just done, and he was just as shocked as Cawlin that such an outburst had come from himself. They stared at each other for a moment with varying degrees of fear, surprise, and anger before Pipit huffed and shamefully tore himself away.

He paused at the foot of the stairs. "Sorry, I just…" He sighed and rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger. Blinking the fatigue back, he whispered, "Not now."

Cawlin was left in a stunned silence as the senior knight limped up the staircase.

Pipit's mind whirled. So many thoughts, emotions, and worries plagued him that it was overwhelming. The direness of the situation was stressing him out to the point that it was making him act out of character. Under any other circumstances, he never would have lashed out at someone like that. His stomach was knotting up with nausea, but he pushed it down with a slight grimace.

He needed to focus on the task at hand and take it one step at a time, and right now that meant waking Owlan's apprentice.

"Karane!" he called as he pounded on her door and immediately winced. His ribs did not like that movement. He leaned a hand on the doorway, cradled his chest with the other, and shouted, "Open up! It's an emergency!"

Fabric beyond the door rustled for a few seconds before the wood eased open. Karane's fiery hair splayed in all directions as she drowsily rubbed her eyes with a knuckle. Sleepy, she blinked for a few seconds and pulled her robe tighter across her torso. Lifting her gaze to meet Pipit's, she stared at him with confusion. Her widening eyes slipped to the cut on his cheek, the tear in the side of his tunic, and the caked layer of dirt, soot, and dried bokoblin blood coating his skin.

"Good Goddesses, Pipit. Are you alright? What happened to you?"

"I'm fine—" he started.

"You are most definitely not fine," she interrupted as she quickly moved to assess the damage. "How did this happen?"

He twisted away from the hand going for the slash in his tunic and hissed through gritted teeth at the sudden jolt of pain that stabbed into his chest. Okay, so no more twisting motions. "It can wait," he managed with a grimace as he leaned against the doorframe. "Owlan needs your help. There's no time."

"Hold on, I don't understand. What happened? What's going on—?"

Karane went silent as the headmaster passed by in the hallway with a listless, battered body in his arms. He shot Pipit and Karane a grave glance as the hero's arms dangled from his broken frame.

Karane's face paled and she whispered, "Is that Link?"

Wrought with worry, her eyes searched Pipits, begging for her fears to be false. He set his jaw and replied, "Get dressed."