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Link glances up at the Statue of the Goddess, breaking his meditation for just a moment to observe her unreadable eyes and carved smile. In the air between them, the other children his age test their new wings with short, wobbling glides, still adjusting to the sensation of weightlessness. And yet, Link’s feet remain stubbornly planted on the ground, his back wingless, even though he’s been praying for hours.
“How long is it supposed to take?” he whines, then immediately regrets it. Complaining probably wouldn’t endear him any further to the Goddess, though he’s not sure what he did to bother her in the first place.
“Um—” Zelda, his best friend, shuffles her feet by his side, uncertain. “I don’t know. Mine didn’t take that long…”
“Patience, young one,” Headmaster Gaebora urges, patting him on the head. “You cannot rush these things.”
“But Father, what if Link doesn’t—?” Zelda asks, voicing Link’s greatest fear.
“Nonsense,” he assures them. “Link, why don’t you try again?”
Link nods and closes his eyes. He mutters the prayer under his breath, the shape of the words so familiar now that they cease to have any meaning. Instead, his mind drifts to Zelda’s wings—their vibrant, violet plumage, her innate talent for flight. Of her cohort, she’d learned the fastest, taking to the clouds as though she’d been born for them.
Link, for his part, has no such aspirations. He might like an owl’s wings, like the Headmaster’s, but he’d be happy with anything, if it meant he doesn’t get left behind. If it meant that he wouldn’t break his promise…
I can’t wait for you to get your wings! Zelda’s voice echoes in his head. Once you do, let’s go flying together!
“I don’t think it’s working,” Link sighs, resigned, then turns back to Zelda. As he does, her jaw drops open in shock.
“Link, your wings—!” she urges, pointing over his shoulder with a trembling finger. Behind him, his crimson plumage flares, revealing rainbow-tipped feathers.
“Ah,” Headmaster Gaepora nods, impressed. “And here we’d thought they’d gone extinct…”
Sky trails behind the rest of the group as they approach the gates to Castle Town, the capital in Twilight’s era. Cities (or… the one city, rather) are nowhere near as large in his own time, and he finds himself somewhat intimidated by the idea of crowds.
How could Hylians possibly manage to live in such close quarters without constantly bumping into each other? he wonders. Wouldn’t their wings all get in the way?
“We’re going to split up for now,” Time declares, partially answering his question. “If the marketplace is as busy as Twilight describes, moving as a group will be close to impossible.”
Warriors nods in acknowledgement. “Just supplies, and any information on suspicious happenings we overhear, right?”
“Yes. We’ll meet up at the central fountain around noon.”
“I call dibs on Twilight!” Wild declares, latching his arm around the older hero’s neck in a half-hug. His tail flicks excitedly, catching Sky’s attention.
Right, not everybody has wings, he reminds himself. He supposes it makes sense—the people of Skyloft are granted wings specifically to help them survive above the clouds. On the surface, there are a variety of blessings Hylia could offer her people. Their own group is a prime example—canines, birds, a horse…
…What even is a horse, actually?
“We don’t need partners,” Time sighs, dragging Sky out of his thoughts. “But you can team up if you’d like. Just make sure you’re back on time.”
Wild cheers. The others begin to drift off, some pairing up, some preferring their own company. For his part, Sky plans to go it alone, until a hand falls on his shoulder.
“Sky,” Warriors says. Sky turns back to listen. “Aren’t you going to…?”
The captain makes an indistinct gesture towards his back.
“Going to what?” Sky asks, tilting his head in confusion. Warriors grimaces.
“Your wings,” he clarifies. “You should put them away.”
Sky laughs, like it’s the funniest joke he’s ever heard. “Why would I do that?” he asks, because it is ridiculous. Nobody puts away their wings. Ever.
“Exactly!” Wild agrees from nearby, with only half the context. “That’s what I’m always saying!”
“Wild…” Warriors groans.
It hadn’t escaped his notice that most of the others didn’t like to show off their own animas. There’s an element of practicality to it—Warriors would presumably have issues walking around indoors with the lower body of a horse. The others, though, he doesn’t quite understand. The idea of keeping your anima put away was as insane as the idea of hiding your arms; it just didn’t make sense.
“You should listen to the captain,” Twilight urges. “The people ‘round here, they aren’t huge fans of…” The rancher trails off, unsure of his wording.
“Wings?” Sky tries to guess. “Is there something wrong with having wings?”
“Not exactly…”
“Oh, relax!” Wild says. “I go into towns all the time with my ears out, and they’ve only thrown rocks at me once!”
“Rocks?” Hyrule questions, jaw dropping.
“He probably stole something,” Legend sighs.
“Hey! I’ll have you know, I didn’t remember what stealing was at the time—”
Warriors throws up his hands, tired of the argument. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. I’ll see you all later.”
Sky watches the captain stomp off, baffled by the conversation. Wind tuts by his side.
“The captain’s paranoid. Wings are cool,” he comments, wiggling his fingers demonstratively. The feather tattoos on the back of his hands flex at the motion. “I’d have my wings out all of the time too if I didn’t need fingers.”
“Okay?” Sky says.
Sky, unpaired, quickly loses the others in the crowds rushing through the streets. The sheer density of people is overwhelming, and even with his limbs tucked tightly into his sides, he can’t help but bump into them. In an attempt to find some space, he ducks onto a side street.
“Hey, watch it, buddy!” a man hollers as Sky’s wing smacks him in the face. Startled, Sky tucks them in even tighter.
“Sorry!” he says. The man grumbles under his breath as he saunters off, something about “freaks in the marketplace today.” Sky frowns.
“Hey, are you going to buy something or what?” a nearby stall owner asks. Sky startles again, unaware he’d strayed so close to them. “You’re holding up the line—”
Sky turns to apologize, and as he does, his wing bumps into something—an intricate, handcrafted piece of pottery, sitting at the edge of the display. Sky sees the stall owner’s mouth fall open in horror as he hears the crash of shattering ceramic against the cobblestone.
“My pottery!” they sob, their hard work scattered across the ground in pieces.
“I’m sorry!” Sky quickly says. “I’m so sorry!”
“Menace! Scoundrel!” the stall owner screams.
“It was an accident!” Sky insists.
“What kind of freak wears a costume like that to the market, anyway?” someone nearby comments, annoyed by the display. Sky’s wings flare instinctively.
“Costume…?” he repeats in a low growl. Who do these people think they are to talk about the Goddess’s blessing in such a way? He steps forward, intending to teach them a lesson—
“Excuse me, sorry—” A hand falls on his shoulder, squeezing in warning. Sky pauses. “Sorry about my friend here,” Twilight interrupts. “He ain’t used to the city. I’ll pay for it—”
“Twilight! You don’t have to—”
“Hold tight there for a moment, will you?” Twilight urges, reaching for his wallet. “And uh, please un-puff? If you can.”
Sky glances back at his wings. He hadn’t even noticed his feathers flaring. Embarrassed by his loss of control, he soothes them back down.
“Sorry again,” Twilight says, guiding Sky away. “We’ll be going now. Have a nice day, sir.”
“Freaks…” the stall owner mumbles under their breath. Sky feels his feathers flare again. Twilight squeezes his shoulder more tightly.
“Keep it together, Sky,” Twilight says. “They don’t know any better.”
“Those people! How could they—” Sky sputters. “How could they say those things? Don’t they have any respect for the Goddess?”
Twilight sighs, heavy. “I figured things might have been different in your home,” he says. “But Hylia hasn’t blessed anybody here. Not for a very long time.”
“What?” Sky says. “But—don’t you all…?”
“It’s just us, Sky,” Twilight says. “Now, let’s just sit by the fountain and wait for the others—”
“But that’s not possible!” Sky argues. “Hylia blesses all of her children. She would never just—just abandon them—”
Sky hesitates. Would she?
Twilight sighs. “It’s complicated…”
“Hey!” Wild shouts, rushing towards them from down a side street. Sky does not miss the dirty looks the people around him shoot his ears and tail. “Twilight, you ditched me—!”
“Sorry, Wild. Had a quick errand to run.”
Sky doesn’t finish his thought. But for the rest of the day, he keeps his wings tucked tightly against his back.
Later that day, once they had comfortably settled in at the local inn, Sky sits quietly by the fireplace, contemplating what he had seen today. Could Hylia really have stopped granting her blessings? The evidence is hard to deny, but that just doesn’t sound like the Goddess—the Zelda he knows. She would have done everything she could to protect her people, he’s sure of it—
“You’re brooding,” Legend interrupts his thoughts from a nearby armchair, snapping his book shut.
“I’m not brooding,” Sky says.
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not,” Sky insists. “I don’t even have a nest.”
“That’s not—” Legend’s face falls into his palm with a sigh. “I mean, you look like you have something on your mind. So spill.”
“It’s nothing,” Sky says. His wings are still tightly curled against his back. “But, in your time, is there really… no one like you?”
“You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“I mean—” Sky stumbles over his words, dreading the answer. “Doesn’t anyone else have an anima?”
Legend laughs. “Not really,” he answers. “Not in a way that matters, at least.”
Sky silently considers this response, uncertain as to what exactly he means.
“It used to be a problem, actually,” Legend continues.
“How so?” Sky asks.
Legend sighs heavily and crosses his legs, drawing attention to the jagged, swirling markings on his exposed skin. “Once I awakened my anima, word spread around pretty quick about the shapeshifting thief… I had to keep these covered, or I’d have the guards called on me on sight,” he explains. “Nowadays, everyone’s just used to it, so nobody cares.”
“Hold on,” Sky says. “How did you know how to awaken your anima if nobody else had one?”
“Uh, what?” Legend blinks. “It’s not like it’s voluntary…?”
“No, no, of course it isn’t!” Sky quickly corrects. “But there’s supposed to be a huge ceremony and everything… how else are you supposed to receive her blessing?”
Legend stares at Sky, expression carefully blank. Then, a moment later, he bursts into laughter, harsh and sardonic.
“I think our experiences might be a little different from yours,” he comments, cryptic. Seemingly bothered by the turn this conversation had taken, he quickly excuses himself and leaves. Sky watches him rush off, a bit confused.
“Captain,” Sky greets quietly, peeking in through his door. Warriors glances up from his seat, where he’d been busying himself with repairing his chainmail, and quickly removes his reading glasses.
“Sky,” he says. “Is something the matter?”
“I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” Sky says, rubbing the back of his head bashfully. “I wasn’t actually trying to argue, I just didn’t quite understand what you were trying to say.”
“No, I’m at fault as well,” Warriors sighs. “I should have been more clear from the start. Your era’s traditions are well-documented in mine, so I should have known better.”
Sky’s eyes light up. “Does that mean your Hylians still—?”
“No,” Warriors answers quickly, before Sky can get too excited. The knight of Skyloft deflates. “Nobody’s quite sure why the Goddess stopped granting her blessings, but we know it occurred shortly after Hylians returned to the surface.”
“I see…” Sky frowns. “So does that mean you’re the only one in your time, too?”
“Yes.”
Sky slumps. “That’s—” He struggles to find the words. “I’m so sorry. It must be difficult to be the only person with such an ability, with no one around to teach you more.”
Warriors barks out a laugh. “Not really.”
Sky raises an eyebrow. “Eh?”
“My anima has been nothing but a boon to me,” the captain explains. “It saved my life in my first battle, and you can imagine having the form and abilities of a noble steed is excellent for morale!”
Sky cracks a smile. Of course the captain would never be anything but proud of his anima. And yet—
“You said it saved your life?” Sky asks.
“Of course,” Warriors nods. “The Goddess always grants her blessings to her heroes in their time of greatest need.”
“‘Greatest need,’ huh?” Sky echoes. Sky recalls Legend’s pained laughter, the way Twilight flinched away from his own people. “That wasn’t the case for me. I never even considered…”
“You’re lucky. Not everyone has such pleasant experiences,” Warriors agrees. “I admit, even I’m a bit jealous of how comfortable you are with your wings. I’ve been using my anima only to fight for so long, I’m not sure how to use it for much else.”
“That’s so strange,” Sky chuckles. “On Skyloft, we’d never hide our wings for anything. It’d be like saying you’re ashamed of them.”
“I can imagine the culture shock,” Warriors says. “So… what will you do next?”
Sky glances out the window, over the sparse evening streets of Castle Town, and frowns.
The next morning the group gathers in the common area, preparing to set out for eastern Hyrule Field. Sky arrives last, as he usually does, still half-asleep.
“Good morning,” Time nods, acknowledging. “If we’re all here, then, we can get going—”
“Hang on,” Sky interrupts. “I just need to do something really quick—”
Without further explanation, he tucks his wings away. He suppresses his grimace, discomforted by the lack of familiar weight.
“Okay, ready,” he finally says, after a pause.
“You’re… putting your wings away?” Four questions, shocked. His surprise is mirrored by the rest of the Chain. Without his wings, Sky seems… smaller. Much less like a proud knight of Hylia and more an ordinary traveler.
“Yeah,” Sky laughs awkwardly. “Wouldn’t want to cause a scene, y’know? I can always take them out again once we’re outside Castle Town.”
He doesn’t sound very convincing, but nobody challenges him on it. Nearby, Twilight averts his eyes, thinking.
A few days later, after another battle and a respite in the nearby Kakariko, Twilight approaches Sky.
“Twilight, where are we going?” Sky asks as the rancher guides him across town.
“I’d like you to meet a friend of mine,” Twilight says, smiling. “I think you’ll get along.”
Twilight shows him the basement in the sanctuary and the tunnels that snake underneath the town. Gesturing for Sky to follow, he climbs down the ladder into the depths. Sky peers into the darkness, uncertain.
“Is your friend a Mogma, perhaps?” he asks. It’s the only explanation he can think of.
“It’ll make more sense once you see him,” Twilight assures him. Sky follows him down shortly after.
Surprisingly, the underground isn’t all that dark. Somewhere deeper, the tunnels open up into the skylight, gently lighting the corridors and revealing the intricate owl statues lining the walls. Sky marvels at the designs as they walk, and eventually, they come across another man, intently observing glyphs carved into the stone.
“Hey, Shad!” Twilight calls out. The man—Shad, startles, nearly dropping his notebook.
“Link, hello!” Shad greets. “What brings you down here?”
“You’re always asking if I’ve found any further leads on the ancient sky people, aren’t you? Well—” Twilight steps aside, revealing his companion. “I’ve found one for you.”
“Really?” Shad gasps. “Are you certain?”
“Twilight…?” Sky questions.
“You can show him your wings,” Twilight says. “He’s trustworthy.”
Hesitant, but trusting Twilight, Sky unfurls his wings fully. Shad sways at the sight, feeling a bit faint.
“My word…!” he gasps, adjusting his glasses as if he’s not seeing clearly. “That impressive wingspan! That striking plumage…!” He wipes a tear from his eye. “They’re even more glorious than the texts described!”
“Uh, thanks?” Sky says. “Twilight, what is he talking about…?”
“My friend Shad here is a researcher on the ancient sky peoples,” Twilight explains. “I suspect a lot of the, uh, ‘older history’ is lost to time, though.”
“Is it true, then?” Shad asks, eyes gleaming. “All of the ancient sky people had wings?”
“Of course,” Sky nods. “They’re a gift from the Goddess Hylia to keep her children safe above the clouds.”
“A gift from the Goddess?” Shad repeats, awed. “My word, this changes everything!”
“It does?”
“We’ve long understood that the people of the sky are closer to the Goddess Hylia than the people of Hyrule,” Shad explains. “I believed that the sky people may have been a separate race entirely, created by the Goddess. But if their wondrous powers are indeed a blessing from Hylia, then the sky people are actually Hylians, like us!”
“...At least, they were, at some point,” Twilight mumbles.
“Of course they’re the same,” Sky says, though he can’t explain that’s because he’s the one who founded Hyrule to begin with. “But then, why don’t they also receive blessings…?”
“Unfortunately, we have so few historical records that survived the Hyrulean Civil War,” Shad laments. “There are sporadic tales referencing a chosen few being granted similar powers before in history, but nothing on such a wide scale. Perhaps the Goddess simply decided such blessings were unneeded on the surface.”
Sky wilts. “I see…”
“Might be nice to clear up some misconceptions, though,” Twilight says. Sky suddenly realizes why the rancher brought him here.
“Oh, yes!” Shad urges. “It would be an honor to transcribe the intricacies of your culture for generations to come!”
“It’s a bit late for me, I think,” Twilight admits, scratching the back of his head. “But maybe the next hero might…”
Sky smiles. “I think so, too. Thank you, Twilight.”
Twilight blushes, bashful. “Don’t mention it.”
“Now, your wings!” Shad interrupts. “Are they those of a real bird? How do they function? Do they require traditional preening methods, or—”
Twilight attempts to calm Shad down, but Sky can only laugh in delight. For the first time in days, his wings feel like the gift they truly are. Somewhere, buried deep within the earth under Hyrule, the great Statue of the Goddess smiles, proud.