Chapter Text
Link was the Hero. That much, he knew.
The best of the best, they called him. A prodigy among the Royal Guard, unmatched by the age of fourteen. The boy who, at thirteen, had drawn the Master Sword—an act beyond even seasoned warriors. His feats earned him a title that should have been granted to a seasoned knight, not to someone barely past eighteen. The Princess’s Knight. Hylia’s Chosen. A fated warrior, bound to battle. It was what they all believed him to be, regardless of what he would say.
Regardless of what he could not say.
A tale as old as time. The history of Hyrule was a cycle, bound to a darkness that refused to die. The Oracle had spoken—when the Calamity rose, so too would a hero, one destined to stand beside the Goddess’s bloodline. It had been foretold, long before his birth. It had been decided, long before he had the will to resist it. His fate was a path carved into stone, immovable. And what was fate, if not inescapable?
He was always on display. The Royal Knights viewed him as a rival, testing their steel against him even when he had no time for their challenges. The castle servants saw him as a disruption, a shadow lingering where it did not belong. The townsfolk looked upon him with reverence, whispering prayers into his name before he had even proven himself worthy of them. He was the hero they saw, the martyr they believed in. A child doomed to bear a legend that was never truly his own.
He had long since grown used to it. The scrutiny. The speculation. The weight of expectations too heavy for words. What use was there in speaking when none would listen? What use was there in denying what had already been decided? If they wished to shape his identity for him, then let them. He would be what they believed.
Nothing surprised him anymore. The whispers, the challenges, the eyes that measured his worth as though he were a relic rather than a man. He had let it all wash over him, let the fire of resistance burn to embers.
So it was rare—unheard of, even—that anything could rekindle it. That anything could remind him what it was to feel the heat of defiance once more.
Pompous.
A braggart.
A conceited, haughty, ornate Rito.
A silly little boastful, sorry excuse for a Cucco.
How did this irrelevant, high-flown bird manage to get under his skin so deeply?
The revival of Ganon loomed ever closer. As foretold, the princess had begun her search for champions—warriors capable of piloting the massive mechanical beasts unearthed from the ruins of the past. Divine Beasts, they had been named, after figures of legend. Vah Medoh, Vah Rudania, Vah Ruta, Vah Naboris. Sages from a time so distant it felt more like myth than memory. Colossal, sky-piercing titans of ancient ingenuity.
Surely, their chosen pilots would match that grandeur.
Surely, the wise and discerning princess would choose her champions well.
Link bore no resentment towards the princess. He understood her burdens as well as his own. She, too, had been chosen—marked by the Goddess’s will, bound by fate. Her father, the King, placed a weight upon her shoulders that even he could see was crushing. Prayer, he insisted, was the only path to unlocking the divine power in her bloodline. Destiny bound her as tightly as it bound him.
And yet…
At least he could fight. At least his role in this battle was one he could wield, sharpen, master. Her highness, with all eyes upon her, could not summon so much as a flicker of the divine light she had been told was hers by birthright.
And it consumed her.
Her frustration spilled over, sharp words and withering glances, lashing at him whenever the helplessness became too much to bear. He never took offence—how could he? He understood it all too well. The struggle of expectation, the fear of failing something greater than oneself. He felt it too.
A kindred struggle. A shared burden.
So why, then, had she chosen him?
Of all the warriors in Hyrule, of all those worthy of a title steeped in legend, why had she picked this insufferable, self-important, pompous, fluffed-up—
No. No, that wasn’t right. He was the silent knight. The unwavering blade. The hero with dignity beyond reproach. He had no reason to let a single Rito warrior unearth such petty irritation from within him.
“Impressive, I know.”
Ah yes. How pleasant of the bird to grace Link with his presence.
For once, Link had taken the chance to slip away—the princess was safely engaged in diplomatic talks, so there was no need for him to shadow her every step. A rarity. Her wilful solitude often made her difficult to track, slipping from castle halls to research labs with a swiftness that even he struggled to match. He spent more hours hunting her down than he cared to count.
So a moment like this—free of duty, free of expectation—was something he welcomed.
Rito Village was a long journey, and fatigue crept in faster than he had anticipated. Perhaps it was the lingering exhaustion of the previous day—Her Highness’s latest experiment had been stranger than usual, though not cruel. He could stomach most things, but even he had limits, and raw frogs crossed that line.
He had hoped Revali would be occupied, drawn into those same talks with the village elder. Had that been the case, perhaps Link could have stolen a moment of true peace. The air here was light, crisp. The wind carried away the weight on his shoulders, if only for a breath.
“Very few can achieve a mastery of the sky.”
That’s right—
This prick was still here. Why, of all the possible companions, was he cursed with this one?
Mipha, Her Highness of the Zora, was gentle—soft as the lull of calm ocean waves.
Daruk, chieftain of the Gorons, was loud and warm, his laughter rolling like the very mountains he called home.
Lady Urbosa, proud leader of the Gerudo, was sharp as the desert winds, a presence that commanded respect without ever needing to ask for it.
And then there was Revali.
“It’s considered to be quite the masterpiece of aerial techniques, even among the Rito.”
Link never let a single expression slip from his face, nor did he roll his eyes, though the urge was there. He had long since mastered the art of keeping his expression blank, a fortress impenetrable to the kind of posturing Revali so enjoyed. Still, pleasantries had to be upheld. No use in antagonising the one warrior Her Highness had deemed worthy of piloting Vah Medoh.
Revali began to circle him.
“With proper utilization of my superior skills, I see no reason why we couldn’t easily dispense with Ganon.”
What an insufferable, self-important little—
"Now then, my ability to explore the firmament is certainly of note… But let’s not—pardon me for being so blunt—let’s not forget that I am the most skilled archer of all the Rito."
The sharp, expectant gleam in Revali’s gaze was unmistakable. Searching. Waiting. He wanted a reaction. He was laying the groundwork for some tiresome, drawn-out speech—the kind where every word carried the weight of his own self-importance.
Link did not give him the satisfaction.
Revali continued to circle, feathers puffed, voice carrying that ever-present lilt of barely concealed condescension.
“Yet, despite these truths, it seems that I have been tasked to merely assist you.
All because you happen to have that little darkness-sealing sword on your back.”
Pray tell, Revali—how exactly do you intend to vanquish Ganon? Flap your wings a little harder and hope the Calamity is blown away?
I mean, it’s just…asinine.”
I mEaN iT’s jUsT aSiNinE. Goddesses above can he be more needlessly pretentious.
“Maybe we should just settle this one on one—But where…? Oh, I know...! How about up there?!”
Revali pointed his wing towards the ship parading the skies. Vah Medoh gleams in the distance. He spat him with malice-laced dignities.
“Oh, you must pardon me.
I forgot you have no way of making it up to that Divine Beast on your own!”
Whatever Revali said after fell onto deaf ears. That Pompous Rito needed to learn what flightless really meant. if he truly wanted a battle in the skies, Link would give him just that. There was a reason he was considered Hylia's chosen.
It was not his merit within combat that gifted him the title of hero but his fearless, albeit reckless, courage, and unfortunately, Link did not understand what limits were. His courageous spirit that possessed him had travelled through time, traversed the dark dimensions between, and defeated the demon known to all as Ganon however many times as needed.
One thing's for certain.
That little shit’s gonna get a kick in the cloaca.