The sun beats down mercilessly at its peak in the sky. Waves crash along the shore, sending misting rainbows shimmering faintly in the air along the beach. A small woman with skin darkened by the sun and hair so strikingly blonde it nearly appeared white stands at the end of an old dock, watching the ebb and flow of the ocean's waves with great fondness. At her feet, a few stray seagulls peck at the wooden boards or sidle up against the woman's legs, seeking affection.
Decades ago, Aryll watched her older brother set sail from the very same dock. At the time, she was young and naive and believed the day would come when she spied his return on the back of his red lion sailboat. As the years passed and time flowed on, her brother's letters became more and more sparse until they ceased altogether. She could only assume that he had settled down so far from the cold waters of the Great Sea that his letters could no longer reach her.
Now, much older than he had been when he sailed away and even older than their parents when he was born, Aryll knows that the day her brother returns will never come.
The loneliness didn't bother her much anymore. After their grandmother passed away only a few short years following Link's departure, Aryll thought the grief might take her along with it. The rest of the villagers on Outset Island didn't hesitate to care for her, young as she was and now without a guardian. The people of Outset had always been a family, but the loss of two once-staple faces in the community in such a short time only made them grow closer together. Aryll realized then that she could no longer play a damsel; she had to grow up and be brave, just like her big brother.
Soon after, her life began. Aryll left her home island, intending to find herself, and traveled across the Great Sea. There were no giant birds to take her away or pirates to tell her tales of the monsters beneath the waves. All she had to her name was a worn telescope and a small skiff with paintings of seagulls dotting the sides.
There were times when she wanted nothing more than to follow after her big brother. After exploring every inch of the Great Sea—unintentionally following in the hero's footsteps—where was there left to go? Return home and live a quiet life when her heart still yearned for an adventure?
"Your place is here," a dear friend once told her. She plucked lazily at harpstrings, feathered fingers easily working the delicate instrument. "On the Great Sea, that is. The Gods want you here."
"The Gods don't have a plan for me, Medli," Aryll scoffed. "Not like you or Makar."
"Don't they?" The Rito wore a knowing smile, an ancient wisdom shining in crimson eyes.
That conversation was decades ago. Hands raise to her temples, where she rubs away the beginnings of a headache; why now, of all times, was she remembering those words? All this time she spent hidden away on Outset, after a lifetime of adventure, but never feeling full. Was there a plan yet for her?
The tiny pitter-patter of footsteps shakes the old dock. Aryll startled slightly but caught herself before she could fall into the waves below. She turned to find two sets of wide blue-green eyes staring up at her.
"Mama, will you tell us the story of the Hero of Winds?"
A smile spreads across her face, eyes crinkling at the corners like her grandmother once did. The seagulls at her feet tilt their heads curiously at the children, crowding their legs, unafraid of their wandering hands. They adored the children the same as they adored their mother.
"Of course, my little ones."
Turning back to the sea, a soft sigh bubbles from Aryll's throat. The elder of the two children plops down at the edge of the dock, feet dangling over the edge and swinging to and fro. The younger sibling clutches at the skirt of her mother's dress, the hibiscus-print fabric bunched neatly in one hand, while the other gripped a faded red telescope with a worn seagull design in the other.
"Now, listen closely," Aryll begins, a hand smoothing back the younger child's hair. "This isn't just a story of a hero. This is your uncle's tale."
"Uncle Link?" The older child's head tilts back to gaze upside-down at his mother.
Aryll nods, a grin stretching across her wrinkled face. "The very same."
At that moment, the thought crossed her mind: perhaps this was what the Gods had in mind for her. She was not meant to adventure to distant lands like some vagabond hero; instead, Aryll's purpose was to pass on the tale of her brother and the legends that came far before him. If that was to be her journey, so be it—that was something she would be happy to accept.