Chapter One, Good Morning
He awoke in a void, pitch black like a starless night. Still, he could see himself. this place drained his attire and body of all its color — replacing it with shades of gray. Not a noise pierced the area around him. It was a bubble that wouldn't pop, a wall that would never break, a veil that wouldn't lift. By the looks of it, he was alone and, thus, safe. After all, he had been here before and the worst thing that came of it was some disorientation. He was fine and he knew that. It was pretty boring to be here, though.
…Wait, no…
That wasn't right.
He… wasn't alone.
He never was.
ROARRRR!
From nowhere emerged a ravenous beast, so colossal that he was like an ant beneath its cruel boot. Fangs — the size and sharpness of mountains — jutted out from its gaping maw, drenched in what he guessed was blood. It lacked a face outside of its jaw yet leered at him with what he could only assume was malicious intent. Every inch of its skin was coated in scales of ash, so dark that it almost blended in. A dark red, ominous light behind was all that highlighted its terrifying body.
…
Now, what came next?
It was odd how, despite his terror and his surroundings, he was wondering that of all things. Each time he awoke to this fuse between a dream and a nightmare, even the first time, he felt like he knew it, almost. A carrot on a stick that was just in reach yet beyond his own comprehension. They weren't normal, recurring dreams… but what were they? He had a normal life before all this, and he was now part of…
What did that weird figure say again?
Fwoom!
A vibrant purple glow above the monster cast it into the void and restored some color. He recalled it as the final part of his pre-awakening experience. Like the seven times before, a floating feminine figure stood still in the center of the light, facing him. He barely saw her two sides — one with normal colors and fancy clothing. The other had an icy blue with a matching, almost mirror-like texture across it. "Link…" the figure said, speaking, as per usual, with a monotone, garbled, yet somehow girlish voice. "You are part of a great destiny, and it will soon find you…."
'I know — you've told me every day for a week — WHAT IS IT?!' he yelled his mind, unsurprisingly ignored by the mysterious figure. Now, he was going to start falling into the void and wake up in a cold sweat…
…
…Any day now…
Screech.
Was there more? Since when?
Screech!
What was happening?
SCREEECH!
He began spinning rapidly, hands clasped over his ears as the noises grew louder.
SCREEEECCH!
Something blue began approaching him — its speed ridiculous and lethal.
SCREEEEECCH!
The object flew toward him.
He braced. He shut his eyes and he prayed.
…
Nothing happened.
Peck!
"OW!"
CRASH!
What a morning.
He groaned as his sleepiness wore off, still covering his eye. He hated that the stupid Loftwing had decided that poking him there, of all places, was a good way to wake him up. "The fuck do you want…" he muttered, standing with wobbly legs and yanking a little letter from its beak. Seeing that everything had gone swell, it flew off with happy noises. On its way up, it slammed his window back shut with its tail. It caused yet another concerning thud to blast out through the paper-thin walls of his room. "Mail. How lovely… ugh, I need my glasses…." Before setting off for his table, something that seemed like a journey across the universe, he glanced at his grassy green bed and blanket. Both were now crumpled on the floor like his last written test. 'I'll fix you later,' he dismissed.
It wasn't unlike the rest of his room, once perfectly sorted and bathed in sunlight but now cluttered with school supplies.
A few steps and many a groan later, and he was at his desk, fumbling around for his reading glasses. A moment before putting them on, he did his usual thing and admired them with the respect that they deserved. That is to say, he internally ranted about how dorky they looked for five solid minutes. Still, the tiniest bit of him was grateful his mom had bought them so he could even read. Considering how difficult that already was, it was... kind of worth it.
If only it didn't happen to her… everything would have been hunky-dory had it not happened… to her or his father…
He felt sick just thinking about it.
'Read the damn note and go back to bed,' he instructed himself. He opened the envelope with some effort, yanking the note and tossing it to the side to read the envelope itself. The only thing there, to his absolute delight, was one letter: Z. 'Oh, Zelda! What has she sent me?' Out of nowhere, he felt bubbly and excited, feeling the faintest tingles in his stomach as he thought about her. To know that she sent him a letter this early…. It made his mind race with possibilities.
Hey, Sleepyhead!
(I know how much you like to sleep in, so I'm guessing that this letter will be your alarm clock this morning. Did I guess right?)
Rise and shine, Link! Today's the Wing Ceremony!
You promised to meet me before it starts… remember?
Don't you keep me waiting!
-Zelda.
…
Wing… Ceremony.
Meet her… before it starts.
'OH FUCK!'
In a panic, he dashed toward his door, clutching onto the handle to open it. But only then did he remember the note he left on the handle — and what it said. 'Don't rush out without any clothes this time, idiot,' it read. While it saved him from embarrassment many times, it also reminded him of it many times. A permanent scar on his pride, forever unhealed. He pushed it out of his mind, feeling sick at the thought of what happened, and opened his closet.
In his closet were plenty of toy swords, books about swordsmanship, a few dusty books that he didn't even spare a glance at, and a decently sized painting of his family. Still, they took it at a time before it happened. The fact that he never organized his stuff, though, was the main thing on his mind. After some digging, he dragged his clothes out like they were children trapped in rubble.
…Or so he assumed, since such a thing was only in those few books Zelda had loaned to him… and never got back.
'Eh, she'll get them when she asks for them,' he thought, putting on his clothes. Despite five damn years passing, they were still quite oversized and baggy. As a certain, bird-brained, red-headed freak of a man reminded him far too many times: he'd hardly grown. But everyone obviously knew that he meant it in a physical sense. In a maturity sense, he was above the clouds compared to the man-child who refused to admit it. That, or that he refused to admit his massive, red, pompadour was horrendous.
Upon looking in his cracked mirror, he grinned at the sight of the man within. Golden locks, piercing blue eyes, clean and fair skin, and a charming little smile. In other words, he looked like the picture-perfect guy. The plain color of his clothes, a dark green for his pants and waistband with a casual tan and sky blue for his shirt, highlighted the features more. Sure, the crack distorted it a bit, but it didn't take away from the charm he knew he had. It was still odd how most of the girls he met at least had an eye for that prideful, pompadour-wearing prick. He'd earned a little love, hadn't he?
'…Especially from Zelda…'
…Wait…
'Dammit, GO!'
He ran out the door, barely opening it before he broke it — again — and ran straight ahead.
"OOF!"
THUD, THUD!
"Ah, my books!"
"What about me?!"
"Oh, Link! Sorry 'bout" —his classmate yanked him up with effort— "that. What's the hurry, eh?" There stood the bright-eyed and brightly dressed Pipit — a curious man with a tough west accent, according to him, who graduated last year. They were pals but never anything as close as his relationship with Zelda. Run-ins were pretty common in such a stuffy school populated by over thirty kids. Even though the halls were currently empty outside of them and a few professors he never met, it rang true. Most of the time.
The stone halls, painted over with shades of pink and faint grays with posters and signs, were a sight to behold. Even a decade after he saw them for the first time, they would always be that way. They reminded him of the warmth of home, the flowers outside, the wind he felt when he flew…. And the stress of grades, tardies, studies, friends, teachers, favors and so on, always crashing down onto his shoulders like a scalding hot pot of water. In his current predicament, the halls reminded him of the latter.
"I have to meet with Zelda. Like, now," he hurriedly explained, already stepping away from the conversation.
"I see. Hey," —Pipit motioned for Link to step closer and stop moving— "partner, mind doin' a little favor for me?"
"What?" His annoyed tone went unacknowledged but very noticed by Pipit. He paused before picking up his books, pointing further down the hall when he finished. Off in the distance, a lean kid with tinted hair was trying to lift a simple barrel to no avail. Before Pipit even got to explain the favor, he had a feeling it had to do with that kid. In fact, it was the very one he… admittedly… tolerated since they met as naive babies. Even then, he was only friends because their parents were friends, even after it happened to his own.
"Heard Henya asked Fledge to get some barrels to the kitchen. Also heard he couldn't even lift one of 'em. 'Least you could do is give him a pat on the back and a smile, yeah?"
"That old bird asked him to lift barrels?" he asked. Henya, their resident cook, was far from a fool. So, asking Fledge to lift things, rather than anyone else at any other time, was weird. He doubted it, even.
"Busy woman," he said, shrugging and holding his books a bit closer to his chest. "Can't blame her beca—"
"And I get what?" he interrupted, starting to walk backward again. Thoughts of an upset Zelda clouded his mind. No matter how patient she assured him she was, he always felt like she hid a fiery temper. Getting his shot at flirting and... doing other things with her lessened the longer he took. The faster he could make her happy, the sooner his shot was. Okay, at the first thing, certainly not the second. "Even she knows that nobody would do a thing for her without a hint of payment — excluding you. So, what's Fledge's cut — what's my cut?"
Pipit shrugged, wanting to say something else. But, by the time he wanted to get another word out, Link had walked away toward the kitchen. At worst, he was looking at a yellow rupee if Fledge did a 50/50 split. Or a red one since even Fledge needed a bit of extra convincing to talk to Henya, let alone work with her. Maybe she scared him or something — Link couldn't tell and didn't bother. Fledge was Fledge and he couldn't change that even if he wanted to. "Hey, Fledge," he greeted, almost making the poor sap trip over nothing out of fear. "Do you need help with that?"
"O-oh, yeah. Thanks a bunch, Link," he murmured, stepping back. He seemed nervous, but when was he confident?
"Henya got you to lift barrels?" he asked, lobbing one onto his shoulder. It looked like a feat that came straight out of the fantasy books Fledge always read in his spare time. At least, that's what Link guessed as Fledge's mouth fell ajar and his beady eyes widened.
"No, actually. I-I volunteered for her. She's not that bad, actually. W-work stress…" —he went silent as Link trudged forward with the barrel on his shoulder— "must be a lot more than people make it out to be."
"Heh. You've — Hylia, this is heavy — got heart, Fledge. I'll… damn… give you that," he complimented through grunts and slow, shaky steps leading into the kitchen. Unlike most of what he said to Fledge, that one compliment was an honest one. Fledge was compassionate, if nothing else. "H-hey…" —he set down the barrel in front of the door to the entrance to take a break— "you think you can cheer me on later?"
A bright smile encompassed his face, spreading like flames in a forest to Link's face. "Of course! A-and now that you've actually halved my work, maybe I can! Thanks, bud!" He tossed a red rupee Link's way. "Th-that's half of the pay Henya wanted to give me for the work." The words went in one ear and out the other for Link, who stuffed the rupee into his wallet without admiring it. Something about seeing Fledge so happy had made him forget about the money…
…and other, more important things.
"Huh? What's all this?" Henya asked, watching him set down the barrel in the kitchen with relative ease and relief. Meanwhile, Fledge started rolling his into the kitchen, unable to lift it. "Oh, never mind. Thank you, boys. Now," —she clapped her hands and laughed— "we can get that ceremony winner some good food tonight!" She boomed with laughter and, behind him, Fledge smiled at the back of his head.
Meanwhile, he was freaking out about Zelda all over again.
"Oh, I've gotta go!" he yelled, turning on his heel and leaving the room in a huff. He could care less about the mess of dust he left behind, knowing that Zelda had been waiting long enough. Too long, by her standards. At worst, he'd get there by the time the Wing Ceremony bell, a very specifically shaped and specific sounding one, rang. Two chimes and a loud RING were its sounds. As it so happened, the location of the bell was right where he and Zelda always met, day by day.
'The statue — now!'
Unfortunately, he had little time to admire the clear skies and gentle breeze. Even though he wished he could, he ran and ignored it. On days when he was somehow one of the first ones up, he'd sit at the edge of the diving boards lining Skyloft for some time. He'd spend that time soaking in the fresh air and rising sun to clear his mind for the day. Usually, a certain prick would shove him off, but sometimes Zelda and he shared a sweet moment. He prayed that this particular meeting would be sweet.
Despite the haste of his mind, his running was light with a good form. The statue of Hylia, the place where they always met, was in sight. Being the peak of Skyloft, it was always in sight, usually with Zelda's loftwing nearby. Even from here, he could hear Storm's loud thuds of happy flying, making the name all the more fitting. It reminded him how close he was, and the fact that nothing was stopping him. All he had to do was go forward at a faster pace and nothing could stop him! Nothing at all!
Turns out, he was wrong.
Woosh! Woosh!
A duo of robed figures, almost identical with their long hair and smooth faces, blocked his path. Both kept their hands tucked in their sleeves and looked up at him in sync. He wasn't scared because people jumped him. He was scared because professors jumped him. The first was a man named Horwell. Most of the time, he was too busy fixing his messes to share a word. Beside him stood the other professor — the one who scared him. Her pink floral robes contrasted well against her orange hair and blue eyes. Her young beauty didn't soothe him one bit. She would always be the one he never liked talking to but always talked to every single day. She was the woman who had ruined his school life with as much love as possible:
Epona Skye.
His mother.
"Heh. Hey, sweetheart!" she chirped, leaning down and snuggling into him only to receive a faint hug of respect. "You're so late to wake up, darling," she remarked, adjusting her glasses. He struggled to keep his face neutral rather than rolling his eyes and groaning. How she never noticed his hatred of her taking the job as a professor, he'd never know. "Especially considering what day it is. You do know that—"
"Yeah, I do," he airily said, already looking for a way out of the conversation. With or without it, flashbacks of his endless bullying had already bled into his mind like paint on a canvas. Sure, he asked for her to take the job offer, but that was when he was a naive idiot! A time when he had no care in the world for reputation or anything that actually mattered. "I have to go meet Zelda soon. So could you—"
Meow!
…
"About that…" Horwell muttered, biting his lip with mild frustration. They all looked to the source of the high-pitched mewling. Link, most of all, recognized it as Mia, the headmaster's beloved pet. Nobody had any idea how old she was, what she was, or why she could fly, but they all loved her anyway… even himself. In an instant, his ears perked up and were attentive. "Mia has managed to get to the roof of the academy. Miss Skye and I planned on feeding her and getting her into costume for the ceremony, but now we can't reach her."
"And" —his mom stuck a finger up and stepped forward— "you happen to be pretty good at… let's say… freerunning." Despite what she was referring to, she cheekily winked and shrugged. Running from school was an old thing, but running itself wasn't. "So, please, dear, get Mia back here for us. Please drop her from the roof, if you could." Horwell shivered at the mention of throwing Mia from a high place. Only then did Link recall that Horwell was also quite forgetful.
Link nodded, turning toward a wall of the school and backing up. Every little detail of the wall that could help him climb now stuck out like a sore thumb. Or, rather, a useful tool.
'I need a strong focus on what I want…' he thought, repeating in his mind over and over as everything grew clear.
Bricks. Secure vines. Smaller roofs. A crate. A pole with a flag. The board of news.
Once useless background touches to liven up the place, now like foot and handholds, objects he could jump from, and things he could swing on.
'I've got it.'
He sharply exhaled.
"HYAH!"
In a flash, he had dashed atop the board, kicked off of the pole, leaped onto a vine, and was mid-air. He caught two bricks on the wall and ground himself to a halt, skittering up the wall. More vines within his reach sped up the climb, allowing him to get onto a small roof. With his remaining momentum, he ran across the wall separating it and an adjacent roof. A useless crate sat against the wall that he used to jump onto the highest roof where Mia waited. As a bit of a reward for his efforts, Mia trotted up to him and nuzzled into his knee, meowing with joy. The best part? He wasn't even panting.
"Woohoo! Good one, sweetheart!" his mom cheered, watching him hold Mia above his head and throw her down to the ground. Horwell shut his eyes and squirmed, only opening his eyes when Epona held Mia up to his face. At the sight of his relief, she turned back around to Link and threw a red rupee up at him. "Have fun with your girlfriend, dear!"
"My FRIEND, Mom!" he snapped back, picking up the red rupee and watching with fury as she strolled away. In the end, that was his mother. A shameless teaser, a carefree woman, and a lovely lady. As a teacher? He hated her… but nobody else did. Nobody had a good reason to… even himself. He would've loved her twice as much as a teacher if there weren't any side effects… but what would change? He was fated to live a short life in the clouds, filled with dullness and weird dreams.
At least Zelda would be with him throughout every step of it.
'Speaking of, it's time to huff it, idiot,' he grumbled in his mind, continuing his light run toward the statue. Around a corner and up some stairs he went, only fearing how upset Zelda could be at his tardiness. Then again, she was probably used to it — which didn't exactly make it any better. He shouldn't have gotten so delayed by everyone around him. He should've been there moments after that letter came through…
There was no way she could've expected him to be there so early. Or did she?
No, no. She hated him every time he was 15 minutes late to something, and they both knew it.
But why be so nice to him?
…So he didn't feel like a useless, worthless friend without a shot at romance to his name.
Hylia on her throne, he begged that love was still in his deck of cards.
'And speaking of Zelda...' he thought, slowing and stopping at the top of some stairs. There Zelda was, standing right in the center of a platform below the Goddess Hylia statue.
The sunlight around Zelda shone a hundred times brighter than anywhere else. It was a holy glow surrounding the one person in the world who'd earned it. Every strand and lock of her hair was flowing flawlessly onto her shoulders. She tied up the rest in a lengthy ponytail, still joining the fray of perfect hair below. Her dress, a bit longer than usual with white and gold fabric sewn into it, had a pattern of ancient symbols on it. He had no clue what they were, but they looked nice. In her hands was a small harp that she plucked at, releasing perfect notes into the air….
Not to mention her… for lack of a better word… hot voice.
"Oh, youth, guided by… the servant of the Goddess…. Unite land and sky-y…. Bring li-ight to the land…."
She stopped strumming as he approached, giggling while she turned to face him. Those undeniable, piercing teal eyes dug into his soul in the best way "Hey, Link!" she shouted, running up to wrap her arms around him. The only cold thing about her hug was the metal harp on his back. He turned as pink as a berry and gasped slightly as they hugged. Keeping himself from holding her there until the end of time was hard. This kind of warmth… that rumbling in his stomach… the fuzziness of his heart… it had been too long. Well, only one day, but still. Watching her back away was a reminder that the feeling could never last.
"Heh. You're here earlier than I thought you would be," she remarked, patting down wrinkles in her dress. She also spent a second tugging at the other little trinkets she wore, making them look neat. She focused on the necklace of the legendary Triforce, which he also stared at. That and... somewhere else. "I'm glad you decided to sacrifice your precious beauty sleep for me. I'm so flattered. Hehe!" Her laughs were a melody of echoing noises that played in his ear over and over. Like every other time he was with her, he wanted to stuff it into a bottle and admire it forever.
"Well, I-I would honestly give anything up for you," he blurted, scratching the back of his head.
"Oh. Er-er… uh… hehe, thank you," —she leaned into his face, so close that he could feel her soft, slow, breaths— "darling."
He went stiff instantly. He didn't see or feel it, but he knew he was so bright pink that his original skin tone got lost in its void. The blank stare he gave her as she burst into laughter and backed away again made his blush worse. In a way, he almost hated how she flirted with him whenever he blurted out his thoughts in a state of mindless flattery. But, since it was both flirting and teasing, he kind of loved it. Something so sweet it felt sour at the sight of it. "A-anyway… what did you, uh, want me here for?" he asked.
'I so wish you could say those kinds of words in my ear while we…. No, no. We're both seventeen, that's not…. Oh, she's SO hot though…. Hylia be damned, STOP IT!' he thought, biting his tongue to not say anything more. The last thing anyone needed was for her to hear what he thought when he looked at her.
"You…" —she rubbed her knuckle onto her lip and furrowed her brow— "haven't heard?"
"What?"
"Oh, lovely. You haven't heard — because you weren't meant to. Now, as you know, someone has to play the Goddess every year. And" —she wrung her hands together— "since you happen to be graduating the same year I am, I figured now was a good time to play the role. And… hehe… outside of the race, there's one part you haven't seen in the ceremony involving the Goddess and the winner. Can you guess?"
Not a word passed his lips, nor did a guess cross his mind.
Not that any guess he had wouldn't include, 'make out with the winner.'
"…Well?"
He stood silent, trying to keep it cool and look confident despite being clueless… and love-starved. In the end, he said nothing definitive, leaving him flustered. Despite it, Zelda showed no sign of feeling anything negative. The less he knew, it seemed, the better she felt. Whatever logical part of him that remained prayed that he and Zelda weren't going to make out. The rest? Well… it was rather obvious to any Hylian boy, wasn't it? As stupid as it all was.
"Good boy," she inaudibly said, patting him on the head. "So, the—"
"Oho ho! Link! You're finally awake!" boomed a familiar, hearty voice. It belonged to the very famous, and most recent, headmaster of the academy: Gaepora Hyrule — Zelda's dad. He and LInk had always been on good terms, at least. "I suppose something finally got you out of bed early on a fresh weekday. May I ask, was it the ceremony or my daughter?"
"Er—"
"Heh! You need not answer that! I'm sure you'll still have…" —he glanced at the Wing Ceremony bell— "enough time to practice your form. Although, with that Crimson Loftwing by your side, I think your ego could fuel you as much as your Loftwing. Hoo hoo!" There was no denying that Gaepora looked a bit like a certain type of bird called an owl. Nobody had seen one in real life, but the bald head and single brow of their headmaster gave them an idea. He definitely embraced it, too.
Sigh.
"About that, father…" Zelda muttered, slouching and frowning with glances at Link.
He had a very clear idea of what she was going to say and pleaded in vain for her not to say it. Wordless pleading, but still. Being his best friend who only wanted 'the best' for him, she said it anyway.
"I'm not sure Link can do it! Whenever he's out there riding his bird, he's hardly awake — daydreaming, even! This ceremony is his big chance to be a knight! If he fails…." She lost her voice, quivering at whatever thoughts were in his mind. To think that she still didn't expect him to be successful outside of knighthood stung. Sure, he was far from graduating as a scholar with or without her, but his sword skills and vague flying prowess were enough. He hoped.
"He'll be twenty by the time he has another chance, father! I can't help him when we're both that age, I—"
"Calm down, dear," Gaepora affirmed, patting her on the shoulder and lifting her chin up. "Besides, I'm sure you can… convince him to practice, anywho." At the mention of that obvious idea, a spark of determination in Zelda's eyes grew. "But best be hasty — I wouldn't want you to miss it, either! Hoo hoo!"
"Yeah…." Like a demon in a horror book, she slowly turned to face him with that same determination — verging on hatred. "YEAH."
In the blink of an eye, she had clutched his wrist. dragging him to the nearest diving board. "Hey, mind the grip, Zelda!"
Slap!
"OW!" He jumped a bit, reeling from the sting of the slap on his arm.
"Shut it! We get this practice in or you lose your shot forever!"
He soon stopped resisting, since it didn't matter anyway. Nobody could stop Zelda from doing anything she was set on. He could do nothing but wish he could, in another life. In moments, he found himself staring straight down into the cloudy abyss below. His stomach sank. The last thing he wanted to do was fall into the nothingness below those clouds, screaming until he died. Before this week, that was his biggest nightmare. But he had a trustworthy and beloved Crimson Loftwing, named just as lovingly after his mother. Both, in a sense, would always be there to catch him.
…
…Question was…
Why couldn't he sense her as he stared off of the edge of the world?
"Z-Zelda," he turned around to face her, feeling fear surge through every bone in his body, "I can't sense my Loftwi—"
"Oh, really? It's the Wing Ceremony, Link! There's no weaseling your way out of this! Off" —she dashed at him, pushing him off of the edge like she hadn't killed him— "you go!"
"WHAT THE FUUUUCK?!" he shrieked on his way down, tumbling wildly through the air like a crumpled piece of paper. Wind whipped and lashed at his face, sucking away his confidence and proper thoughts. Skyloft fell out of view before he could take another proper breath, worsening his case. Every second he spent off of the island was a second closer to death's door and, by Hylia, he wasn't going through it. This was a death sentence if he didn't focus up!
'Proper form, relax, whistle, NOW!' he reminded himself, flipping over and spreading his arms wide to catch more air. It slowed him down for a fraction of a second longer and made him feel worse as he stared death in the face — again. No matter how many deep breaths he took, even though they lasted a second longer than his panting earlier, he felt no relief. As the clouds grew closer to his face, he dared himself, for only a moment, to stare back at them.
…In fact…
There was something down there…
Calling him.
…
'WHISTLE, DAMMIT!'
He jammed his fingers into his mouth and blew as hard as he could.
TRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
Nothing.
TRIIIIIIIII!
The clouds grew closer.
"FUCKING WORK!"
TRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!
This was it.
He was going to fall into the void below.
Probably into hell, knowing what he had done.
…That is, nothing major.
Maybe his short, pointless life was shorter and more pointless than he thought.
Love was never in his cards to begin with.
"I gotcha!" Zelda yelled, catching his wrist as the mist of the clouds almost consumed him. She threw him onto Storm's back and ascended at a nausea-inducing speed. While it took minutes to return to the statue, he disassociated and went blank. Storm made pained noises, Zelda tried comforting it and Link, but neither replied. For Storm, it was exhaustion that kept it from communicating in any clear way. For him, it was being so close to death — or perhaps, something worse — that scared him into silence.
When Storm perched, everyone, even Zelda, slumped onto the ground and panted. Gaepora checked on Zelda, Storm, and last of all, Link. Only then could he hear again and be bothered to stand up. "What happened, Link? Your Loftwing would never ignore you — whether standard or Crimson!" he exclaimed. "Something has to be afoot here, something stopping you from sensing her! Nothing bad happens to Loftwings, unless…."
The realization of what could've happened to Link's beloved bird hit them both. Link himself was the first to mention it.
"Someone decided to play foul," he growled, feeling rage replace his fear. "And…" —he clenched his fist, digging his nails into them further— "I think I'd know who would do that."
"Link," Zelda muttered, looking up at him with teary eyes, "I-I shouldn't have ignored you…. It's my fault that you almost died, I—"
Rin-rin-RING!
Rin-rin-RING!
…
Hylia be damned.
He was late to the ceremony.
And he was without Epona.
Had he really messed up his one chance at success to talk to his crush?
What was worse?!
"Link," —Gaepora grabbed his shoulders, staring deep into his eyes— "we must delay the ceremony for you. Your Loftwing isn't lost — someone has sabotaged your chances! This cannot go unpunished but, for now, go get Professor Horwell and bring him to me." He nodded and dashed away, knowing that one second could mean his success or his failure. As he ran from the others and straight back to the school, praying that he got there in time, he passed someone.
"WOAH, Link!" Jakamar, the resident custodian for the academy, yelled, getting in his way. "What's the rush?" Chances were that Jakamar noticed the sweat and paleness of his face and would keep asking. Any more delay would make things worse, so he tried weaving his way around. It was, as usual, in vain. "The Plaza ain't far, so—"
"Have you seen my Loftwing?!" he yelled in a panic, still trying to get by. "She's gone! I-I need to go find Professor Horwell befo—"
"That red one with extra feathers? Huh. Thought I saw Groose and his buds chasin' that fella. Go ask 'im, if he'll bother with ya."
…Groose.
That red-headed, pompadour-wearing prick who always bullied him for no good reason…
'Oh, I am going to KILL that motherfucker when I get my hands on him!' he thought, stuffing down his rage. "Thanks, I'll go soon, see ya!" he slapdash yelled, sprinting toward the academy. Rage blinded him so much that he didn't notice the gate that would lead him to Groose was right there. Either way, he would ensure he tore out each of the stupid red hairs on Groose's horrid-looking head, strand by strand. But delaying the ceremony was easy, since Professor Horwell was still close. By the looks of it, he'd led Mia onto the second-highest roof to feed her and play with her. He was too panicked to think about the fact that Horwell could've done that earlier. "Professor!"
"Hm? Oh, Li—" He dropped the bag of treats, again, and Mia dug her cute little head right into it.
"I need you to…. Er, no, uh, the Headmaster needs you — A.S.A.P!" he spat. He took a second to brush his forehead with his sleeve, finding it damp with his buckets of sweat. The sight — and smell — would've made him lose his breakfast if he ate it at all. "It's about the Wing Ceremony; I lost my Loftwing and I need to find her before—"
"Epona?" a random student asked, cutting him off. Turns out, it was Karane, the girl who graduated last year alongside Pipit. "Oh, yeah, Groose and his buds chased her down a while ago. I saw… what, one or two knights in pursuit before they landed."
"Where?!" he growled. His boiling blood now ran like lava.
"The Plaza with the other kids for the Wing Ceremony. You should also probabl—"
"GOT IT!"
"Oof!"
"Wha—"
CRAAASSH!
The doors to the academy burst open as he sped down the hallways and stairs, shoving past everyone in his way. Throughout it, he yelled, "I'm looking for my bird! No time!" Everything behind and in front of him was a blur, everyone who could even say a word at his speed he ignored, and every thought in his mind was consumed by thoughts of breaking Groose's massive nose and making it bleed all over the stone floor of the Plaza.
For the most part, the thought wasn't anything new.
By the time he could think straight, he needed the smallest of breathers. It gave him a moment to admire the Plaza, at least. It existed for one reason, and one reason alone: to hold the Wing Ceremony or other events. Thus the big open space. Most of the time, though, it was a place to hang out between classes. Professor Owlan, his mother, Kyte and his knights, and dozens of other kids and adults were there. All of them waited for Zelda's and Headmaster Gaepora's arrival. Through the crowd, thick as it was, he spotted a flicker of red hair. Not the kind that was orange-ish and natural, no. If one good thing came out of Groose's awful hairstyle, it was the fact that he was impossible to miss.
He opened his mouth, ready to yell out Groose's name, until a thought crossed his mind:
'Is calling out and getting everyone's attention a good idea just to get to him? I've been embarrassed enough by everything today, so… should I?'
His response?
'Hell yeah.'
"GROOSE!"
The chatter of the Plaza vanished and everyone looked at him. Despite the unwanted attention, he stood firm. He approached, waiting for the piece of bright red hair to move through the crowd. With hesitant steps, Groose and his friends left the crowd. They seemed shocked at the sight of Link standing so boldly in front of so many people. The builds of each member of Groose's friend group were all over the place. Stritch — a sleepless, antisocial weakling with bones the size of sticks — was the first to mutter something to Groose. Cawlin — a tiny guy with a fiery temper about as effective as a bonfire in a lake — joined in the murmuring and making violent gestures.
And then there was the man himself: Groose Mahani. The big bad.
His bulky body, his flamboyant, navy blue attire with collars and fur out the wazoo all screamed: 'I'm a cocky asshole and I know it.' His eyes, a disgusting shade of yellow, were either wide and stupid or narrow and invisible. And, of course, his sash and satchel. Supposedly made with the finest leathers and the best of feathers, they were his pride and joy. Pointless designs littered them, particularly one of the Triforce with a fourth triangle in the middle. That wasn't even right!
All the more reason he would enjoy giving Groose the beatdown he deserved.
"Heh. Well, well, well, it's the tiny green man," he taunted, hiding his hands and encircling Link. Through signs, Stritch and Cawlin gave Groose good words to say. Link noticed, and his only response to them was a solid middle finger, making the crowd gasp and get excited. "What are you here for? The race was supposed to start five minutes ago. Late as always, huh?" Rage, pure and of the utmost caliber, emanated from Link… which was good: he wanted it to be known. "Oh, oh, oh… OH. I see why you're here with those dopey eyes of yours."
"You sure mine are dopey? Take a look in a damn mirror."
"Oooooh," the crowd simultaneously went, surrounding Groose and Link as the former's buds ducked away from the situation. Link noticed but felt unsurprised. Cowards befriended cowards.
"Hah! Good one, I'll admit. But how can I give you respect when you're here to beg for a chance?" Groose chose a good spot to stand and look intimidating, leaning down to enhance the effect. "If you really want to stay on the leaderboard, buddy, you're going to have to try. If you push yourself, who knows — maybe you'll get second place. Quite the achievement, isn't it? This race is far from a cakewalk. Sorry to break it to you."
"I wouldn't be surprised if you've only been sorry to your mommy and daddy."
"Oooooh!"
"I have nothing to be sorry for. Other than—"
"Your ridiculous haircut? Yeah, no shit."
Faint chants of, "Fight, fight," began to echo and grow through the crowd.
Groose snatched Link's collar and pulled him close, glowering at him with genuine anger. The sight of the pettiness made him smirk and relax even more. "Listen here, you little twerp: Mock my hair again, and I will flatten you again. GOT IT?!"
Link shoved him away, followed by even louder 'ooooh's, 'ahh's, and chants of "Fight, fight."
Rather than fight back, though, Groose brushed his shirt and scoffed. "You're a mean one, Mr. Skye. At least, without Zelda in your ear all day. Because, let me tell you the truth: THAT is all you are here for. Some alone time with your princess! You don't wanna become a knight, you don't want a legacy, you don't even want money — which, I'll give you credit for — you just want HER. Everything you do is because she wants you to do it or it's for her. Think for yourself, man! Live your life, for once!"
"Don't you give me life advice when YOU have your henchmen do everything for you!"
"Not everything!"
"Fight! Fight! Fight!"
"Link, listen, we don't have to fight to pro—"
"OH?! BEING A COWARD, ARE YOU?! WELL, ISN'T THAT SOMETHING?! HUH!?"
Link raised a fist and shoved Groose again, finally inspiring some fighting instinct.
"I don't want this," —he raised his hands and took a deep, focusing breath— "but I will fight you."
"FIGHT, FIGHT!"
"Throw a hook!"
"In the groin!"
"KILL HIM!"
Link's breaths were rapid, his mind racing, itching to see Groose's bloody nose.
Groose's breaths were slow, he seemed focused, and he only waited.
"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT"
"Don't strike first!"
"Relax!"
"BREAK HIS BONES!"
"HYAAAA—"
SCREECH!
Everyone looked skyward as a knight flipped off of his Loftwing, his features disguised by the sun. After many a twirl, he landed, right between Groose and Link. Disappointment crossed the crowd when the knight stood. A mature adult in the middle of a school fight was a clear sign that he wasn't going to be some referee. "Let's not have a fight on the biggest day of the year, right?" he casually said, raising his hands in a soothing gesture directed at them both. Upon looking at their faces, he was even less surprised. "Ah. Link and Groose — the duo to end all duos."
"Dad," Groose said, stepping forward and relaxing, "I—"
"Save the explanation, kiddo. I'm not mad or disappointed." He put his hands down and faced Groose with a smile, raising his goggles up. Link noticed those same, weird-looking yellow eyes of Groose. This time, though, he wore a charming smile. A familiar smile. The contrast between father and son, Etali and Groose, was unbelievable. "Just sit tight," he affirmed, patting Groose on the shoulder and turning to Link. His hands firmly sat on his hips and the flash of his goggles against the sun was blinding. Needless to say, Link expected a verbal beating.
He didn't know Etali personally, other than the fact that he was nothing like his son. It was a 50/50 if he would be defensive or relaxed, so he readied for the worst. Pleasant surprise washed over him as Etali shook his hand and lowered his cap, revealing that same red hair that Groose had. Although, it was more managed and shorter, adding to the contrast. "So, the Wing Ceremony is about to start, and you want to fight my son. Must not be a good day, eh?"
It was time to start spitting excuses. "S-sir, I—"
"It's Etali. I don't know you, Link, but I don't hate you. I'm here for you if need be, even. All I've gotta know is the situation. Be honest here, okay?"
…Or not. Telling the truth was the easiest way out of the situation, anyway.
He let go of his rage and anxiety, and said the truth. No blaming. No exaggerations. Just the truth. "I lost Epona, my Loftwing. I heard Groose was chasing it, and… I…."
"Confrontation. I get it," he finished, nodding calmly. Knowing that his situation was reasonable was relieving — especially after escaping a fight. The more he thought about it, the higher the chances were of him getting his ass handed to him by Groose. "You're a young guy, Link. You're brash and reckless. Lemme tell ya: So was I. But next time, at least try and ask, yeah?"
"Of course. Sorry for… you know… all of that," he muttered, getting flushed.
"No need." Etali patted him on the shoulder with that same, charming smile that soothed him once and for all.
"Wait," —Groose stepped in front of his father, confused and concerned— "when is the ceremony, then?"
"Delayed. Headmaster's orders. Must be because of you and your friends' antics," he explained, watching with a frown as Groose's face fell. Meanwhile, Link had to hide his joy at watching the slight suffering. "Hey," —he winked and lowered his voice— "take that time to practice. Never know if you'll need it." It seemed like Groose took the advice to heart, nodding with, for once, a full smile before disappearing into the crowd. Strich and Cawlin seemed to chase him, too. "As for you, Link, I'll get Kyte and the others to search the island. D'you know anyone who could spread the news?"
…
"Excuse me! Pardon! Sorry, sorry!" Zelda's voice rang through the silent crowd, her grunts growing louder as she tore through them to get to Link. "Hylia, Link, again? ANOTHER fight? REALLY?!"
"Zelda," Etali greeted, pushing Link back a bit. "Nice to finally see the headmaster's daughter up close. I assume you've got the situation on your map, too, eh?"
"Oh. Well, er, nice to meet you too, sir," she said, holding her horses to a second — not without a death glare directed at Link. "I thought Link was running off to talk to Professor Horwell and start searching for his Loftwing. However, I didn't expect him to try fighting someone for it." Her gaze lingered on Etali's face for a moment, noting down the Groose-like features as Link had. "Er… sir Etali… is Groose your—"
"Uh-huh."
Her face fell and Link's stomach fell into the void. "And did Link try to fight him?"
"Uh-huh."
"And?"
"I stopped 'em. But, look," —he stepped in front of her before she could talk to Link— "we gotta find that Loftwing now. Before any of the other contenders capitalize on this time, preferably. Spread the news of it to everyone who doesn't know or join the search; anything helps." He walked to the diving board that Groose jumped from, the crowd splitting as he walked. "I wish you two luck!" At the edge of the world, he turned on his heel and saluted, falling backward without so much as a flinch.
Screech!
His bird caught him, swerving upward and letting him fly through the crowd upside-down. The showmanship sparked life back into the crowd, who cheered and laughed. "Hylia, I want to be like you," Link muttered, turning to watch Etali fly away on his own Crimson Loftwing. It brought back memories of when he first saw Etali in action during his first-ever Wing Ceremony. He was the fourth flier in the show, making risky stunts as silver smoke shot out from behind. The cheers that day… and how it inspired him.
SLAP!
"That's for trying to fight someone again!" Zelda lectured. "I swear, do you NOT remember what happened last time?!"
Rubbing his cheek, stung with the personal jab and the literal one, shrugged. "No, I don—"
"Because you were knocked the f…." She took a deep breath and shook her head, finishing her sentence with, "You were knocked the heck out by Groose. I-I… I waited by your bedside until you got up. Just…" —her anger faded, replaced by an almost loving concern— "please don't do that again. Let's go find your Loftwing and get you to win that race. I'm worried enough already."
"Yeah. Sure. Sorry about that," he muttered, taking a few steps in sync with her until she put her hand out in front of him.
"Don't be. Never say sorry to me. Okay?"
"Fine," he plainly said, pushing her hand down. Zelda was always the type to never really blame him, even when he could bet on the fact that he was guilty… to some extent. "Promise."
"Good. Now, we can't waste any more time!" she declared, marching toward the closest diving board. "Go to Hylia's statue and see if you can spot her or sense her. I'll let anyone else know about the situation. We can do this, Link!" She jumped from the diving board, carried off by Storm to tell the rest of the oblivious world about his problem. Of course, she wouldn't bother to even try and keep it private. She wanted 'the best' for him, even though it hardly helped.
Either way, the hunt for his Loftwing had begun. With only so long to spare.
…But what did Groose mean by 'alone time?'
A/N - Frankly, it took me a while to figure out where to end this chapter.
I planned to end this when Zelda gets thrown into the surface. Then I planned to end it with Link winning the ceremony. Now it ends after meeting Groose.
Oh, well.
Y'know, on my end, it's really fascinating to compare this Link to BotW Link. One is quiet, subdued, loyal, and kind. The other is a teenager, and that says enough. I do find he and Zelda's dynamic a bit more normal since, well, they get their shot at being innocent. I may have made Zelda a bit too brash and rude, but still. As for Groose? Hoo boy, I'm excited for him. We all know he goes through a development later, but I plan on writing one before.
Anywho, that's my little rant. See ya later!
Have a lovely day, and keep reading if you like this!
-Ebblenubble