24/7 loving revali lockdown

You were perfectly safe in this hammock. Though the frigid breezes from Hebra blew through the cloth coverings of the window, you were warmer than you had ever been. It was like sleeping next to a breathing pillow. Needy as it was. And despite your little fits, he did not even stir. 

You looked at him properly then, discerning his form in the darkened room. 

This was not the first time you had seen Revali asleep. You had both camped in the wilderness together and taken alternating shifts on watch when the moon had sat high in the heavens. 

Even on the field he slept like a perfect soldier, back straight and beak shut to a thin line. He was so silent you often wondered if he had been unconscious at all. Any noise deemed suspicious would wake him, his bow never far from reach in case of an ambush. 

Now…his eyes were closed, with not a wrinkle lingering on his brow. His beak hung slightly open, a little snore escaping from it as he drifted off in a deep sleep. 

There was no other way to react than in quiet disbelief. You ran a careful hand over his head, watching as a sea of feathers moved against your outstretched palm. Though soft, you could tell which were newly grown. A delicate patch revealing a history of previous injuries. Some were at his wings but most grew at the front of his chest, indicating they were sustained facing an enemy head on. 

You sighed, shaking your head and placing a light kiss over where his heart would be. “Fool,” you whispered fondly. 

As you pulled away you found that in the shadow of the night it was similar to viewing the inky void of a dark ocean. The feathers under your hand were blue. Soft as every suspiciously plush pillow in this village, and blue. Blue as the ink on your fingers. As Rigel in the constellation Orion. 

And you supposed he too was a dying star, with a core long since fated to destruction before you even met. But in this moment he was far enough that you could still see the light that rolled off him, resplendent. And not for the first time did you wonder if the stars knew of your own selfish thoughts. To hold on to the rattling hum of a shade as the supernova burned behind you, unforgiving and insurmountable. 

If you could keep him for yourself, you would. If the goddesses allowed it, more you would ask. More than his memory. More than one fragile plume which remained in your coat’s pocket like a constant companion. 

Never fraying, never destroyed. 

You leaned forward to press a kiss to his shoulder, but in that instance every restless spirit screamed out. 

You. Must. Go.

The pain behind your head flared again, as if you were struck dead on by a blunt object.

Coughing, you carefully extricated yourself from his hold. The tremble in your arms nearly sent you tumbling out of the hammock, the banister acting as your only support. It’s by some miracle that you latched on with ease, climbing your way back down without waking him and landing with a thud. 

The noise echoed, loud enough to rouse any sleeper. Dizzy, you forced yourself to remain quiet, watching nervously for any sign of movement from the hammock. 

A minute passed, then another. The voices raged in your head until you were nauseous. Sure that he was fast asleep, you turned back to the entrance and slipped on your shoes and coat. The voices followed you like angry echoes, urging you to move faster, waging war against your own wishes. 

Don’t look back. Weakness. Forward. Onward. Soles to dirt as wood is to ash. 

Before stepping over the threshold, a small noise rose over the cacophony in your head. It was quiet. So much so that it could have easily been mistaken as sleep addled murmurs or the creaking of a nearby tree. 

You were frozen still at the doorway when Revali called out your name.

It was whispered, as if in question into the darkness of his home. A shaky breath escaped you as your hands trembled by your sides. 

Both of you knew you were about to do something unforgivable. 

Just as well. It was always you disappointing him. In what world did you even deserve a fraction of his affections? You won’t…you couldn’t acknowledge it. Doing so would break you completely.   

Forward. Onward. 

You lurched to the side, slamming a hand on to the doorframe to steady yourself. The voices sang through your blood, picking at your fraying ends like the burnt off end of a cord. If you weren’t careful, you were going to be sick. 

He called out to you again, and despite your better judgment, you stopped and listened. 

“…please. Stay.” 

A flood of shame and guilt gripped at your already aching chest. There were no words that could fix this. 

“Go back to sleep. Don’t follow me, Revali.” 

The breeze which whispered from the doorway felt somewhat colder. You stood and listened, waiting for him to protest. To fight you. And you were ready to argue back through any means possible. 

But ultimately, in the stillness of his home, there came no reply. 

Good, you thought. Yet you remained standing at the door, stupidly hoping to hear something from him, anything. 

Just as you thought you saw the movement of blankets—Go. The voices commanded. 

And so you complied. The dim wooden ceiling of the hut became the infinite yawning expanse of the night sky. Finally outside, you clutched at your chest as if in deep pain, clouds of air leaving your lips as you tried and failed to breathe. But there was no time to mourn anything. Above you, the stars acted as silent witnesses, watching as you turned away from Revali’s home, listening to the voices and running into the night. 

The cold of the outside slammed into you full force, chilling you to the bone. It had begun to snow and even with your heavy coat you knew it would be an abysmal and chilly ride. 

Eimhin complained as you spurred her forward. You didn’t know where you were going, letting the chorus of voices lead you, becoming so loud that it rivaled even the howling of the Tabantha winds. 

Sun up, then sundown. You did not sleep. You did not eat. A supernatural force seemed to keep Eimhin going as well. Though you knew such things were unsustainable—the need to arrive at this unknown location eclipsed everything else. 

Finally, a building of darkened stone drew closer. It sat upon a hill, with the early dawn shining behind it like a beacon. Stained glass windows decorated every level like jewels on a crown. The heavy doors were wide open, with the combined smell of incense and burning candles wafting out into the open air and making your eyes water. 

The pain in your head grew worse. Not even the breathing exercise could temper it. 

With shaking legs you stepped off your horse. You made a break for the church’s spire entrance, climbing the steps by two at a time. 

At the top of the stairwell you stopped to catch your breath, shoulders heaving as the adrenaline from the past few days began to drain. The headache remained, days of enduring and finally it was lessened to a dull beating. You realised that you were afflicted by a fever as well, the violent sweats and shakes threatening to fold your legs from underneath you. 

Approaching an open window, you knelt beside it, resting your head on the ledge. A beautiful view of Hyrule Castle gleamed from the outside but you were too damn tired to enjoy any of it. 

Sleep. The voices urged you. 

“Now that,” you said to the empty tower. “I can do.” 

.

.

.

Planets and stars spun above you. The ceiling was but a vast, never ending canvas that stretched beyond your comprehension into the depths of gloom where dark blue faded into black. 

“—this is wholly inappropriate and a breach of the terms of our experiment. It is not within your rights to interfere.” 

“Be silent. Sibling. You gamble with time.” 

“I created time.” 

As the two goddesses argued, a warm breeze combed the hair away from your face, creating little waves in the water surrounding your supine body. 

‘Stand up, little sprout!’ Though no voice was heard, you could understand the command well enough. Your nose was filled with the smell of honey and jasmine, and like strings around a maypole untwirling, you felt the tension in your muscles be forcibly plucked up and released. 

You stood up, shivering and slightly disturbed. 

“Take me back,” you said. 

Though you could not see them, you felt all three godly presences suddenly turn to you. It took a lot of strength not to cringe under the weight of their collective judgment. Annoying as it was, you were practically a flea dancing under a magnifying glass, the concentrated point of holy light threatening to burn you into a crisp. 

“Behold. What your coddling has achieved. Sibling.” 

“I don’t appreciate your tone. You pulled them away once things were finally becoming interesting. It was their best run yet and you had to stick your meaty mittens into the stew!” 

“A sharpened sword. Wasted.” 

The water underneath your feet rippled. You felt something wet land on your head. Little drops of rain fell from the literal heavens above, hitting the pseudo-sea in gentle pitter patters. It reminded you uncannily of the sweetened notes of laughter. 

“Excuse me. It’s rude to carry a conversation about someone who is right here. Take me back. Now.” You said again, trying to add as much venom as you could to your voice though your exhaustion was evident. The headache had disappeared as soon as you awoke in this in-between world, but if you were to spend any more time listening to these deities argue, you were sure it would rear its ugly head back to torment you. 

“Be still my petulant spark, the adults are talking.” 

“I see anger. Vexation.” That other voice said, seeming to finally pay attention to you. 

“Of course I am angry,” You said, crossing your arms and scowling at the sky. “Why did you bring me here? I deserve an explanation—”

“Acceptable.” Was all you received in reply. There was a sound of protest from the other godly being, before the ocean gave way and you found yourself falling into the abyss. 

.

.

.

X—

The skin of your knees tore as you landed hard on the muddy ground. You caught your breath, shaking away the vertigo of being wrenched from your previous surroundings so abruptly. There were sounds of metal clashing and shields being bashed. It was difficult to discern where you were, let alone hear your own thoughts as you were plunged into the din. 

Groaning, you placed a hand to your face, surprised to feel the familiar surface of standard issue military metal. Your helmet. 

Before you had left the barracks, Revali had made you abandon it, arguing that it would be an eye-sore at Rito Village. In hindsight you knew he just wanted to see your face better. That very fact he had revealed to you the previous night, much to your delight and annoyance. 

Your heart clenched painfully. 

Now is not the time!  

Bottom line, you were wearing it now. And it was dented and wet, a line of liquid sliding down the side of it. You swiped a hand over the area, pulling back and realizing that the pads of your fingers were stained with the frank redness of fresh blood. 

A sword swung above you, and by instinct you heaved the Greatsword in your hands, blocking the blow easily. You kicked at your assailant’s knee, feeling the crack of bone under your boot as they went down. 

There was a whistling sound coming from behind your shoulder. You had a second to turn. The dagger sliced a line over the gap in your armor, barely missing your jugular. Pressing a hand to your neck, you felt the cut begin to bleed, dripping down to the collar of your tunic. 

Another whistling noise, another dagger cut through the air. Your heavy sword was lifted a moment too late as the sharp metal knocked back forcefully against your chest plate, staggering you backwards. 

The attacker was upon you immediately, light on their feet and quick with their daggers which were so fast they appeared as if from thin air. Digging your boots into the muddy ground, you held yourself like a strong pillar. You had fought quick opponents before, with the memory of graceful feathers followed by a volley of arrows coming to you unbidden. 

You exhaled a grunt of pain when a dagger cut through your side, followed by a swift kick to the injury. It would be easy to wince and double over, but the fire within you kept your eyes open. Your fist tightened over the handle of the Greatsword, and you saw it, there. A flash of white, and you feint as if to swing at them. 

They dodged to the side accordingly. You let one hand drop from the handle, using it to grab onto the enemy’s white hair. There is a burning feeling in your mind, as if something out there could read your thoughts. Whatever it was, they were pleased. 

Their cry of pain is lost in the chaos around you. The world you were pulled into had given in to bedlam as you slammed them into the ground. 

Before their head was severed, you saw their red eyes stare back at you. There was no fear. Only a blank acceptance of defeat. And in the reflection of the sword in your hands as you brought it down, you realized your eyes held the same emotion. 

“Power. It befits you.”

“A most cliche line, if I ever heard one.” You griped. Another enemy of similar appearance came running to you, enraged at the sight of their fallen comrade. You let the daggers glance over your arm, ignoring the stinging cut so as to allow yourself an opening to slip your sword between their ribcage. 

You could hear Revali chastising you for such a reckless maneuver. Survival isn’t as estranged from winning as you think, Stranger. 

The earth rumbled beneath your feet, and turning around you were given a split second to blink before you and many other soldiers from both sides were being flung through the air. The ground practically explodes as blood, muck and mud is flung. 

Landing hard on your side, you feel the muscles in your shoulder pull. Your hand was still wrapped around the hilt of your heavy sword. Clutching it in a death grip, you forced yourself to your feet, shielding your eyes from the debris which was kicked up, trying to peer at the giant thing in the distance. 

“Not all songs are sung. Some. Forgotten.” 

For a moment there is silence. The royal soldiers stand like fresh game, frozen by the sound which reminded you of all those terrible stories. Of prisoners being burned to death in the hollow of a bronze casket. Their screams reverberating; mingling into the metal. 

Terror lanced through your heart when the dust cleared, revealing a giant metal animal on four legs. The sky crackled in brilliant white. Lightning. 

“Shame. Perish they did. Quietly. In glorious battle.” 

Someone knocked into your back, and you yelled out in anger and frustration. As your swords met, lightning flashed once more, revealing the tattooed eye on her unwrinkled forehead. The woman opened her mouth and said something to you in a language you had never heard before as she parried your strikes with her longblade. The sword swung through the air, leaving trails of blue light like the tail of a falling star. “Where the fuck am I?” You swore back. 

“The King ordered them. Buried. Their treasures and children.” 

The beast roared again, lightning striking the earth a short distance away. The ground was dug up again as horses, soldiers and limbs sailed through the air. You looked on in horror before you focused on the woman in front of you again. Her mouth was covered by a dark cloth. Her frame was smaller than yours, but you could see the precision in her stance, the fearlessness in the way she struck against you. 

“The Sheikah. Proud. A stone yields not willingly.” 

The beast roared again. You could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing. The air felt almost electric. There was warmth again, singing through your skin and providing you with inhuman strength as you wielded your Greatsword, cutting down the woman, then the next Sheikah beside you. 

“I can. Immortalize you. In fire. Blood.” 

The battle continued for what felt like hours. Yet you showed no signs of tiring. Your mind was slowly losing itself to the haze of this neverending skirmish. 

“Good. I understand your plaything now. Sibling.”

“Stop this at once, Din! Look at what you’ve done! Another year of this nonsense and their feeble mind will become mush!”

“Never. Relinquish them. To me.” 

Water began to fall from the sky, hitting the dry and cracking earth. It washed the blood from your skin, drenching your hair and wetting your parched lips. You had forgotten what it was like to feel thirsty. To hunger. To yearn for sleep. 

While the two voices clashed, a soft breeze was felt against your skin, like cold fingers brushing against your back. Such gentleness felt foreign, and immediately you spun around to retaliate. With eyes wide and teeth bared, you lifted your Greatsword against your assailant. 

It confused you to find that no one was there. 

The breeze swept past your cheek, making you shiver.

‘I can help you, little sprout!’

‘Simply, turn the sword against you.’

‘Quickly now! Before the other two notice.’ 

‘There we go, like pulling a splinter. One, two, three—’ 

You could feel yourself bleeding against it. Blood spurted from the wound with each squeeze of your heart. You heard your knees hit the ground as the world began to spin. A darkness was bordering your vision, creating a tunnel which gradually began to narrow. 

Looking down, you saw yourself reflected in the sword. The reflection blinked, though your own eyes remained open. Its mouth curled, whilst yours remained in a tight line. It opened its mouth, cheeks stretching and baring teeth like it had read what a smile was but had never seen a human execute it.

And in your mind, you heard them. Speaking through your own voice. 

“Let us leave this dour spot for greener pastures…”

.

.

.

X—

There is no sudden collapse of ground beneath you, no starlight which steals you away. Instead you blink, and that was that. Black void, without even a shadow. Darkness and solemn quiet. 

Exhaling, the echoing sound of your breath brought a semblance of comfort. It confirmed that this wasn’t some crushing box but at the very least a vast cavern. You held your hands out, unable to judge the distance in front of you let alone where you were. 

You stamped your feet and felt the dirt shift underneath your shoe. Curious, you thought to yourself. Bending down, you brushed what felt like the cool touch of several leaves, dew dripping from the ends of them. Tugging on a few blades easily yielded a bunch which fell from the gaps between your fingers. Grass. 

“Ack!” The bones of your spine straightened, making you stand to attention like a soldier. Your mouth opened without you meaning to, words falling from your lips. 

“Step forward. You can walk and sprint, jump even! Let all your fears melt away, little sprout.” You said, your voice sounding stiff and monotone, odd inflections being added at the end of your sentences. 

Tendons pulled like puppet strings, moving your legs forward in an unnatural gait. The darkness continued as you were forced to move deeper into this space. Several times your arms had bumped roughly into a broken column, or you had stubbed a toe against a pillar. But though it ached your body continued to move forward, refusing to acknowledge the pain. 

Then, you were deposited in front of a rock. Shaking hands were forced to feel around it, with your palm falling down the smooth downward slope of a curled wing, the other grasping on to the point of a beak. It was a statue of a bird. 

A crackling noise resounded, and the air stung as if electrified. Then, there was light. 

There was the roar of the wind, then the statue, a torch holder, erupted into flames before your eyes. A ring of similar bonfires came alive in a wide arc, eventually joining until they made a circle. 

There in the middle was a dense fog. Within it played a scene, like a twisted tableau. 

The world spun, a cyclone of memories. You were in the hammock again. The festivities of the village outside drifted like sweet music, a cold breeze rustling the tapestry coverings of the windows. 

“You’re beautiful, you know that right?” 

Turning in the mess of patterned sheets, you buried your face further into the crook of his neck, the smell of pine and violets making you smile. “Handsome, lovely, and now beautiful? Are you still dreaming or do you really say this to every stranger you meet?”

Curling a wing around your waist, he sleepily pulled you closer. “Just stating facts. While I’m at it let’s add exasperating to that list,” he sighed. “And you’re far from a stranger now.” 

Lifting your head, you found that both his green eyes were open and looking at you. You grinned, watching his whole face soften as he smiled back. “Exasperating? That sounds more like it. I’m surprisingly good at that.” 

His eyes slipped closed as you moved to place a quick kiss on his beak, blue feathers shuddering when you sank deeper into his embrace. “Well then, you’re my moon and stars, Revali. Every constellation in the sky pales in comparison.”

“This isn’t a competition.”

“I know,” your hands found his wing under the covers, fingers moving to entwine with his own, holding tight. Resting your head against his chest, you could hear his heartbeat under your ear, thrumming and alive. ”But if it was, I'd have already won.” 

Please, stay. 

You kept your eyes shut, trying to focus on the steady inhale and exhale of his lungs. Listening closely, it sounded more labored, as if he was choking. 

Go back to sleep. 

A sticky substance spilled down your cheek, swiping a finger, you inspected it in the lamplight to be red and thick. Blood. 

Don’t follow me, Revali. 

Any attempts to lift your head were futile, blood began to pool into your lips, tasting like copper. 

You would have been long gone by now. 

You were trapped as the warm body underneath you began to grow cold. His chest stilled, heartbeat drumming slow until to your horror, it stopped completely. 

So be it. 

The air shifted again, and you found yourself suddenly able to lift your head, a sickly ribbon of thick red following you. Lifting your hands proved to be difficult, and as you struggled to stand, you found yourself slipping in a puddle of congealed fat and bone. 

The moblin stood before you, Aryll in its grasp. Rot, decay and death; that trio of horrid stench was more familiar to you than ever, and it reeked of it. 

You’re late. 

You were held by invisible chains to the ground, covered in gore. Seeing the terror in Aryll’s eyes made you fight desperately against your restraints, even as your arm began to pull from its socket. 

Don’t go. 

“This can’t be right. It never went like this!” The words were said helplessly as Aryll called out to you, her cries unintelligible as they mixed with her gasping need to breathe. 

I won’t get hurt.  

You began to sob at the sound of her bones snapping. Her diaphragm crushed to dust like the wings of a little bird. 

Plenty to last me a lifetime. 

The cyclone receded and took the fog along with it. In its absence, the dark forest was clear to you once more. Ancient statues alight like funeral pyres, circling a dark mass at its center. 

If your body was your own, you would have jumped back in surprise. Every nerve screamed to do so as the hulking form of that thing, revealed itself in the light of the fires. 

Divine Beast. 

This was the first time you’d seen it confined to the earth. Its fuschia glowing eyes were dimmed. Yet, even though it was grounded, your heart quivered in fear at the mere sight of the leviathan. 

Then, you saw someone familiar, cowering before it. Their clothes were plain, a basic winter coat to ward away the elements, barely keeping their weak form warm. Around them, star charts littered the floor. 

The glowing eyes flashed, coming alive. 

Why are they standing still? You thought in a panic. 

The air began to sizzle in an all too familiar way. Your eyes refused to blink as the person stood there, frozen dumb. 

The puppet strings were released. 

The muscles in your shoulders suddenly dropped, and you leaned to the side as you greedily inhaled a gulp of air. “Holy hell.” You gasped, your voice your own again. Immediately you dragged your feet forward, pushing past the static numbness and using all your strength to propel you forward. 

Your boots crunched against the precious scrolls and maps, adorned lovingly with constellations and measurements that you once spent hours committing to memory.

The empty sound before the blast stole your breath as you barreled into your past self, grabbing them and rolling away just as the beam eviscerated the grass where you both once stood. 

Grabbing their shoulders, you roughly slammed them into the ground. “Are you stupid!” You yelled into their face. Your words came back to you in that same instant, repeated like a twisted echo.

Their eyes were wide as they looked up at you, the fires reflected in them. Utterly terrified, their mouth moved in a mirror to yours. 

“You just stood there! Fucking coward! It took her! He—he’s going to die.”  “You just stood there! Fucking coward! It took her! He—he’s going to die.” 

“And it’s all your goddesses-damned fault.”  “And it’s all your goddesses-damned fault.” 

You sent a fist at your own self, wanting to cave in the face that you wore in another time. It wasn’t fair, how they lived life so blissfully, how they took everything for granted, how they existed without having known anything. 

But as your knuckles connected with skin, you felt no satisfaction from the act. 

Tears began to build in your eyes as you stood up, hastily wiping them from your cheeks. The past version of you did the same to their own, their gaze still trained on you in fear as their face began to bruise. 

Stumbling away, you fell backwards into the grass. The ruins around you burned and the heat began to singe your skin as a warm breeze, like oven fire, fanned the flames. 

Your past self sat up, massaging their jaw and stared at you unblinking. Bloodshot and beady-eyed, like a doll. Their hands stiffly pulled at their burning skin in unnatural angles, almost like they wished to rip the charred layer off completely. 

Then. Without your own mouth moving, they spoke in a voice that wasn’t yours. 

“And what, little sprout, have we learnt?” 

Your mouth tasted like rust. “Just send me to hell! What are you waiting for?” 

“Always choosing the option to run, to cower and hide.” They lifted their arms as the skin there began to flake and blacken, revealing bone. “You care for no one but yourself.” 

“That’s not—I cared for them. I loved—

“You abandoned them. Need I remind you of all the times you chose death over facing the full round.” The smog made by the fires partially obscured their grinning smile. You didn’t even know your own lips could peel that far. “However, I am benevolent.” 

They reached into their coat, pulling out the blue feather which had followed you through all these lives. “I can end this for you. Grant what my sibling cannot. I’ll take it all away.” 

Your eyes never left that feather, watching as it delicately waved in the oppressive heat, embers so close to singeing it. “Give that back.” 

Gleefully, they crushed it into their hand. “Let it burn with me. And I will restore you to your time. Your star charts, your neighbors farm, your sanity. Like all this had never happened. Is that not what you want?” 

Clenching your fist, you felt the deep ache of every scar that was carved into you. Every night spent without peace, with the anxiety of living wrapped tightly around your neck like a noose. 

The sins which plagued you until you walked this world in a haze of your former self. Aryll’s pain. Revali’s death. The knowledge of these events occurring. This goddess could take that all away. 

Yet, your eyes never left that feather. It’s familiar blue stubbornly showing itself in the cracks of their melting hand. 

“You know what I want?” 

The broken mirror tilted their head, an eye sliding to the side as if no longer sitting correctly in their skull. “Hm?” 

“I want you,” shakily standing up, you made your way towards them. “And your siblings,” with arms trembling in anger, you embraced their burning form, prying the feather from their fists. “To fuck off.” 

The goddess laughed in the prison of your arms, their voice sounding the closest to a human than it ever had in this entire twisted exchange. The flames climbed on to your clothes, excruciating. But it did not matter, you have burned before. 

“Noted, little sprout.” 

.

.

.

X—

The grain of the kitchen table swirled and dipped underneath the pads of your fingers. You focused on the indentations, tracing the marks until you found the chip. Aryll had hit her head there, playing tag with her older brother. It was almost a perfect copy. 

“Take a seat,” a woman said, her golden hair in a braided bun. “Tea will be ready soon.” She wore Medilia’s armor, the crest of the Royal Guard displayed proudly on her back. 

“And which one are you?” Sliding the chair out, you roughly deposited yourself on your side of the table. You noticed it was the place where you always sat whenever you were invited to dinner. “Is this house going to catch fire too? Because you might want to spare me the pyrotechnics. I’ve already seen that happen.” 

The woman shook her head ruefully, her face still obscured as she set down two cups of tea. It was Medilia’s favorite set too, the one her husband had gifted her after their quiet son was recruited to serve the King. 

You took a sip. “Who are you?” 

“A bystander to history,” she said, folding her delicate hands. The accent was regal, not unlike a voice you remembered from other lives ago, panicking over your broken form in the grass. “But that is irrelevant. I am here to grant you guidance”. 

“I’ve had enough of higher powers telling me what to do.” 

The woman’s shoulders shook in quiet laughter. “Apologies.” She said, “you just reminded me of someone.” It was then that she lifted her head, revealing a plain face. Pretty, but fairly unremarkable. “I want to help you.” 

Your hands tightened around the cup, close enough to shatter it if you weren’t careful. “Then tell me how I can save them.”

“The world will end, that is already known. But take comfort in the knowledge that it will be reborn in a hundred years.” 

“Lady, it has been a long day. Day? Year. Hylia’s third toe, I don’t know anymore.” The woman’s head tilted in amusement as you swore. “If you’re going to tell me to give up, then I’m going to stop listening right about now.” 

“You still think you can save him.” 

“I will.” Slamming your hand made the old table shudder, the cups rattling on their saucers. “I swear it. I swear myself to it. Now are we done here?” 

“Mortals always fail to focus on the bigger tapestry.” She sighed, her golden hair shimmering in the afternoon light. Past the windows behind her, the fields leading to Castle Town waved, green and healthy in the late summer sun. “Much sorrow and pain will come to pass, but is it not enough that all this sacrifice will be paid back more than a hundred times in the future?"  

“Excuse my mortal sentiments, but I don’t hold individual souls in such little regard.” 

She raised a brow. “And what of your own?” 

You frowned. "Touché. But I’m…working on it.” 

Taking a sip of her tea, she smiled as if in memory. “I haven’t had an informal conversation like this in a while. I must say, it’s quite refreshing.” 

You shook your head. “That’s great and all, but can we please get back to the point. Return me to the start. I have a lot of explaining to do for someone.” Draining your cup, you saw the Silent Princess at the bottom, its blue core and white lined petals in full bloom. “I can’t do this alone anymore.” 

The woman beamed, and her serene smile reminded you of the statues hidden in quiet alcoves, decorated in offerings and warmed by lit incense. 

Before you could connect the dots, she stood from the table, taking the pot from the stove and refilled your cup. “That’s wonderful to hear.” She said in relief, sounding like a mother proud that her child had added one and one to get two. “Such revelations should be rewarded.” 

“What.”

“Drink that please. Waste not a single drop.” At the sudden intensity in her order, you did as you were told. 

You set the empty cup on the table. Looking at your hands, you flexed them to see that nothing happened.  

“Okay, let’s cut the crap Hylia. What is my purpose in all thi—

.

.

.

X—