Chapter Text
The sun is rising over the sands of the Gerudo Desert, and Urbosa is regaling Link with a story about how he’d saved Zelda from the Yiga Clan, by the time that Revali flies back in without any of his usual bluster. His eyes are rimmed with red.
…In fairness to Revali, his eyes are usually rimmed with red paint, but they’re red-rimmed to the point where it looks suspiciously like he’s been crying. Link has to wonder—was it even harder, to go back knowing that it would be the last time he’d ever see whoever he was saying goodbye to?
“Welcome back,” Urbosa greets, looking up. She pauses. “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” Revali snaps. “No less so than you, in any case.”
“Ah. So not particularly alright, then.” She offers him a weary smile, as she pulls herself to her feet. “No one will hold that against you, Revali. It’s a nearly impossible decision for anyone to make, and not one I would wish upon my worst enemies.”
“On the contrary, it wasn’t impossible in the slightest,” he replies. “My duty is to pilot the Divine Beast Vah Medoh in the assault against Ganon, and I can hardly do that if I am dead and buried decades before.”
Urbosa hums to herself, gaze flicking to Link before it returns to Revali. “I did say nearly impossible. For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you. Both of you, really.”
Proud of Link, too? He didn’t do anything except play an instrument and fight to save his friends. It’s the sort of thing anyone would have done, in his position. But Urbosa seems to mean it despite how little Link had expected her to say that.
…That applies on both fronts, as it turns out, because the sound that escapes Revali is an unmistakably startled squawk as he stares at her, feathers fluffing up within moments. He recovers eventually, clearing his throat and averting his gaze into a direction which happens to be Link’s.
“Let’s get back to the present day,” Revali stammers. “Shall we? The Calamity won’t defeat itself, after all.”
“No, it won’t,” Urbosa agrees, expression hardening. “Link?”
Link nods wordlessly. He holds out one hand to Urbosa, who takes it immediately and gives him a reassuring squeeze. The other goes to Revali, who stares at it for several seconds before eventually reaching out with a grip tight enough that Link begins to lose feeling in his fingers.
He can’t sign anything, not with both of his hands occupied. Fortunately, he doesn’t need to—both of his fellow Champions know, just as well as he does, that the moment Link steps out of this chamber is the moment that he, and anyone in physical contact with him, returns to the now-changed future.
(Somewhere across Hyrule, both the Link with Mipha and the Link with Daruk have surely returned to the future as well. Zelda must have sealed away the Calamity by now, with the sun shining visibly at all, so the Link with her must have already fallen. A part of him wonders if he’s been put into the Shrine of Resurrection yet.)
(The rest of him finds he doesn’t care as much as he thought he would.)
He can’t sign anything. He does, however, nod towards the nearest exit—the stairs down to the lift he and Revali would use, one hundred years in a future that no longer exists exactly as it was, to access Naboris in the first place.
Three Champions walk towards that exit, not a single one of them daring to let go of each other.
Three Champions vanish, all at once, and the Divine Beast Vah Naboris settles in to wait for a century.
Link's head feels like a group of Lynels dribbled it around for a while among themselves before throwing it at him, which is a frankly terrifying mental image given that he's never once seen Lynels in groups, never mind throwing things that are not fireballs (from their mouths) or arrows (from their bows, assuming that counts, which Link isn't sure of.) Sunlight hurts, where it's streaming down from the sky into his unfortunate eyeballs. Thinking too hard hurts, but he takes a stab at it anyway.
He's... in the desert. Somewhere. Seems like he's alone, which strikes him as odd—but he'd woken up alone the last time he returned to the present, too. Urbosa and Revali must be somewhere nearby, because if this worked once it has to work again.
He doesn't know what he'd do if it didn't. But it did. Surely.
Sunlight hurts, thinking hurts, but he has to at least get up. He has to keep moving. Whether he was able to bring Revali back with him again, whether he was able to bring Urbosa back at all, he still has a job to do. He still has to get back his sword. He still has to take down Ganon. He still has one more friend to save, whatever it takes, and he can rest once she's safe.
(His head spins when he tries to stand. He manages it for a second, two—then crumples back to the sand, unconscious again. He doesn't see the blue-feathered Rito who touches down beside him moments later, doesn't hear him start to crack a joke before sucking in a horrified breath, doesn't feel himself be poked in the ribs by a taloned foot before Revali promises to return with help and, in a burst of his own Gale, flies off again to find it.)
Wherever he is when he comes to again, he's not in the middle of the desert. Or, well, he is, but at least this time he's in a building, which is a definite improvement. He thinks he might even be in a bed, which is something of a rarity for him.
...He doesn't recognize the ceiling he's squinting up at, desperately trying to figure out where he is without actually moving.
He vaguely recognizes the voice that goes, "Oh, good, you're awake! Lady Urbosa will be relieved."
It takes him more effort than it should to prop himself up on his elbows, seeing Riju there. Who looks... really, really concerned, for some reason, concerned enough that he pushes himself up into a sitting position so he can sign. He definitely doesn't trust his voice right now, though he does like Riju.
And he trusts her to tell him the truth, so he signs, "Urbosa's here?"
"Yes, she's fine. Champion Revali, too." Riju pauses, where she's standing in the doorway of a room that he really should have realized was somewhere in Gerudo Town sooner, then retraces her steps towards a well-used chair and takes a seat in it. Backwards, with her chin set upon her folded arms and her arms set upon the back of the chair. "I am aware of some of the situation, from the letter that Lady Urbosa left for me... a century ago. And from what you told me before you went out into the desert for Naboris."
"What did I tell you?"
"I suspect much the same as what you told me in the old timeline." She shrugs absently, heedless of Link's confusion until she looks him in the eye, smirks a little, and adds, "Yes, I know about that. Lady Urbosa told me."
"...In her letter, or to your face?"
The smirk grows. Not by much, but it does. He really does like this kid.
"Both, as a matter of fact."
"Both," he repeats. Yeah, he doesn't know why he's surprised. He shouldn't be. "...How did I get here?"
"Patricia helped," Riju says, which clarifies nothing. "So did Champion Revali. And Lady Urbosa."
"Okay, but—"
"I should get one of them." She glances towards the door, frowning. "Lady Urbosa, most likely... I love Patricia dearly, but you're as unlikely to be able to understand her the way Padda does as I am, and Champion Revali has almost certainly reached Zora's Domain by now..."
"What," Link signs. "Why is he going to Zora's Domain?"
"For Champion Mipha?"
There's a sinking feeling in his chest. "Why does he need Mipha?"
"Well, he probably doesn't anymore," Riju clarifies. "But he couldn't get your, er... Sheikah Slate? Working. None of us could, at least not for the ability to transport people across vast distances that it apparently possesses. He can fly, so..."
"...Why did he need Mipha?"
"Because you have been unconscious for nearly a week," Riju says bluntly, standing and turning the chair she was sitting in back to face him while he's still reeling from that particular revelation. "I'm getting Lady Urbosa. Don't try to move or I'll have Patricia sit on you."
"How are you getting Patricia in here?" Link signs, halfway to play demon's advocate and halfway because he's legitimately curious.
"I," Riju declares, pointing at him, "will find a way. Don't make me."
She leaves, massive braid swishing in the air behind her. Link watches her go, blinking in confusion, and comes to the rapid conclusion that Urbosa has definitely rubbed off on her young descendant already. This seems like the opposite of a problem, as far as Link's concerned.
"Good, you haven’t moved," Riju declares, rushing into the room a few steps ahead of Urbosa. "Is there anything else that I can help either of you with? Lady Urbosa...?"
Urbosa smiles at her. "I assure you, little tempest, you have already done more than enough. I appreciate it, and I am certain that Link does as well."
Link, for his part, gives Riju a thumbs-up. "If there's something I've been keeping you from—"
"There is not," Riju interrupts. "But I will give you your space."
She leaves again, with a respectful nod to Urbosa, who nods back as she's passed by before taking over the very seat that Riju recently vacated. Admittedly, she does sit in it facing forward, even as only one of her legs is actually on the floor.
...Seems like absolutely no one here sits in a chair normally. Interesting. (To be fair, Link wouldn’t either, assuming he sat still long enough for anyone to notice or care. Which is a tall assumption on its own.)
"I told you that you'd like Riju," Link signs.
"And you were entirely correct, about that," Urbosa says. She leans forward. "Now, about you. I assume that Riju told you—"
"I've been out for a week, and you sent Revali off to get Mipha?"
"The first part of that is correct." Urbosa smiles a little, though the expression seems weirdly strained. "You should know Revali well enough, by now, to know that it would be very difficult for me to force him to do anything he didn't want to. He sent himself off for Mipha."
"He did? Why?"
"A week, Link." Urbosa sighs. "I suppose it was too much to hope that you would remember this, but others do care about you and your wellbeing, Link. Even Revali, which did come as something of a surprise—but I’m getting used to it.”
"Are you sure about that?" Link pauses. "The last part. I know that other people care about me."
It's a little hard to believe, sometimes, and the list of people that would genuinely be sad if he died isn't all that long, but that list does exist. Which is wild.
"I wasn't," Urbosa says wryly, leaning back again. "Do you realize how strange it is to have the two of you in one room without Revali antagonizing you for being there?"
Link blinks. "Not really?"
Admittedly, now that he thinks about it, he can't recall a single memory of Before where Revali was both present and didn't glare at him, at some point or another if not for the full duration of the memory. And the thing on Revali's Landing, which he still isn't sure what to make of, comes to mind.
But the thing is—that was Before. This is now.
"I guess you wouldn't," Urbosa murmurs, smile fading entirely. "How are you holding up? I imagine that it would be stressful enough to wake up after a century in a land where no one knew you without amnesia involved."
"I'm fine," Link signs.
Urbosa raises an eyebrow. It feels like she's looking right through him. "No, you're not."
He groans. "No, I'm not. But I have so much I still have to do. I still have to get back my sword—maybe I'm strong enough for her now. I hope I’m strong enough for her now. We still have to get Zelda back, and take down Ganon—"
"And we will," Urbosa assures him. "Zelda is strong, Link, far stronger than she ever believed herself to be in the past. She has held back Ganon for a century, and while I am the last person who would ever ask more of her, I’m certain that she would not mind waiting a little longer so that we can be sure of our success, this time.”
This time, Link thinks. What if we fail again?
“I doubt that the Calamity has the strength to send forth a monster like that Thunderblight again,” Urbosa murmurs, as if she’s somehow read his mind; more likely, she’s just thinking the same things he is. “If it did, it likely would have done so to retake Medoh and Naboris already. Still, if it does, we have fought those monsters before.”
“Bring a bow,” Link signs. “Or a spear. Something metal to throw at it. Maybe both. Just to be safe.”
‘Yes, it… did take advantage of my preference for melee, didn’t it.” She frowns. “I’ll be cautious. We all will.”
“Good.” He pauses. “If it’s been a week, have you gotten to see Daruk yet? Or Mipha?”
Urbosa shakes her head. “Not yet. Revali mentioned that your slate could transport multiple people now?”
“Yep. Why?”
“Then I think it may be best for us both to pay Zora’s Domain a visit as well, sooner rather than later. But first…” She studies him. “Tell me, Link. Do you know how long you were unconscious for after using the ocarina in the past?”
“...No,” Link admits. “But I think it’s been getting longer. And I think taking you and Revali with me might have affected it too.”
“I feared as much. Link… promise me something, will you? As a friend, as a fellow warrior, as a fellow Champion. As someone who cares about your continued well-being.”
“Depends on what the something is,” Link signs, “but I’ll hear you out.”
She chuckles to herself. “Wise of you, to not agree preemptively. Still… I’d rather you didn’t use the ocarina again. Not unless you have no other choice, not unless everything goes catastrophically wrong.”
“...Not unless we all die again?”
Amusement gone, Urbosa can only wince. “In a worst-case scenario, we know what’s coming. That won’t happen.”
But it could. They both know that, and it’s terrifying.
Link promises her that he won’t use the ocarina again, before the two of them travel to Zora’s Domain considerably faster than Revali had. It feels like a mistake. He hopes, prays, pleads that it won’t be.
He shouldn't be surprised that Mipha is upon him the instant he and Urbosa make it to Zora's Domain via Ne'ez Yohma Shrine and some carefully-applied Sheikah teleportation. He also really, really shouldn't be surprised that Mipha does not buy that he's 'fine' at all and insists that he stay in Zora's Domain for at least another week before even thinking about heading out again.
The fact that there are three Champions waiting for him and Urbosa in Zora's Domain, not two... that's surprising. Daruk wastes absolutely no time in pulling him and Urbosa both into a massive hug, one that probably comes dangerously close to being literally back-breaking, and explains that he'd figured that he'd be coming to Zora's Domain after freeing Naboris and—in one way or another—getting Urbosa back.
And Revali...
It feels like Revali's avoiding him. No, strike that, Revali is avoiding him.
While he's busy recovering from what Mipha confirms is indeed magic overuse to an extreme—oops—he scarcely ever catches a glimpse of dark blue feathers—and when he does, it's far enough away across the Domain that by the time he gets there, Revali is long gone.
Link doesn't know how to feel about that. He thinks that Revali used to avoid him a lot Before, but that was back then. This is now. They are getting along more , or at least they were. He can't imagine that Revali would have flown off to Zora's Domain, crossing most of Hyrule on his account to find Mipha, if they weren't still on better terms.
Mipha, carefully monitoring his recovery (and expressing the same sentiment that Urbosa had, that he should not use the ocarina again unless he has no other choice) says he should talk to Revali. Urbosa, taking the opportunity to help clear out some of the monster camps that the Zora couldn't on their own—that Link had, before, but the Blood Moon went and fucked up for him—says he should talk to Revali. Even Daruk, spending some of his time helping out Urbosa and some of his time keeping a sharp eye out for if Link attempts to leave Zora's Domain before he's fully healed, says he should talk to Revali.
This would be less of an issue if he wasn't increasingly certain that Revali is avoiding him. He can't even figure out why.
Neither can Sidon, when Mipha briefly tasks her brother with babysitting Link on the last day he's confined to the Domain. Sidon does, however, have an idea as to how they can find out.
"Do you want to talk to him?" Sidon asks, studying his face until Link manages a nod. "Then trust me, my friend; you will talk to him."
Sidon's plan is, in theory, fairly simple: leave Link in the lower chamber of Zora's Domain built around Ne'ez Yohma Shrine, convince Revali to join him there as well, and don't inform Revali of the real reason why Sidon wanted his help with an unspecified something until after he's already there.
In practice, Link is fully expecting Revali to turn around and leave as soon as he catches sight of Link. Or to just use his Gale to leave without a word, but Sidon had chosen that spot specifically for a reason: it has a roof.
When the moment arrives, Revali still freezes in his tracks. He glances backward at Sidon, feathers fluffing and hackles rising, like he's considering the merits of just bowling Sidon over and flying out anyway. Ultimately, it seems that he decides it's either not worth angering Mipha by assaulting her brother, or something along those lines.
"Is... there a problem, Champion Revali?" Sidon says innocently. "If you do mind helping out with this after all, I can of course ask someone else—"
"You planned this," Revali snaps, feathers fluffing further. "...One of you did, and I don't know which one."
Link coughs into a fist and signs, "It was mostly Sidon."
"It was indeed!" Sidon proclaims, thoroughly unrepentant.
Revali sighs. "Of course it was. Do either of you actually require my expertise, or—"
"You've been avoiding me," Link signs, looking at Revali expectantly.
The next sigh from him is deeper, longer. "Perhaps. It's possible."
"Why?"
"I..."
Sidon considers this, considers Revali, considers Link. He stands back and declares, "Now that you are talking, I will leave you both to it!"
Link glances after him as he walks, a little faster than normal, back up the steps into the Domain at large. Then he returns his attention to Revali and signs, "Okay. What's going on?"
"Nothing," Revali says immediately, not meeting his eyes. "I haven't the foggiest idea of what you mean."
"Oh, so you've been avoiding me by accident?" Link raises an eyebrow. "You can't think I'm that stupid."
"...I don't." Revali pauses. "While your decision-making process is, at times, rather lacking in sense—you're not. Stupid, that is."
"The guy who tackled me off of his Divine Beast without thinking it through, at all, for a chance of taking Ganon down with the rest of us, has absolutely no ground to stand on for insulting how I make decisions."
“Then it’s rather a good thing that I can fly, isn’t it?”
"Not what I meant. You know that."
Revali’s eyes narrow. “Do I?"
"I thought I did," Link signs. He's regretting trying to figure out what was going on with Revali more and more. "I don't... did I do something?"
"Not exactly," Revali says tightly.
"Okay." That raises more questions. "Are you okay?"
"Am... am I...?" Revali stares at him, beak falling slightly open. "Urbosa had to restart your heart and you have the utter gall to ask if I'm okay? You nearly—"
"She had to what."
Revali's eyes widen. "...Shit."
He takes a step back, then another. Looks desperately over his shoulder, like he's once again considering fleeing, and this time there's no Sidon there to stop him. There's nothing except Link, and he won't even look at Link right now.
"Revali," Link whispers, and the Rito's head snaps back over to him. "What happened?"
"I woke up alone in the desert," Revali says after a long pause. "I assumed that you and Urbosa would make for Gerudo Town as well, and arrived there a few hours before she did. It was an accurate assumption, regarding her. Not one at all, it seems, regarding you. When there was no sign of you by morning, everyone grew rather worried."
"Excluding you, of course," Link signs.
Revali shoots him a dirty look. "Don't put words in my beak, Link."
"So you were worried about me, this time?"
"I didn't say that." Revali looks away. Link takes the opportunity to edge closer to the stairs himself, closer to where he'd at least have a decent chance of being able to intercept Revali if he did decide to make a run for it. "Do you want to know what happened, or not?"
"Yes—"
"Then stop interrupting me," Revali snaps, and Link lets his hands fall. "Neither of us are certain as to how long we were out for, but it was days before we brought you back to Gerudo Town. The Gerudo have their own healers, of course, and by that point Riju had them on standby. Still, you're lucky, immensely so, that Urbosa thought quickly enough to save your life."
The Rito pauses, then adds, almost offhandedly, "I suppose, out of the two of us, you've always been the lucky one."
Link would probably be better at responding if several separate things about the past few days hadn't just, all at once, suddenly clicked into place. That's why Urbosa was so insistent that he wasn't fine, why Daruk has been really cautious about hugs after that first one, why Mipha has been keeping a careful eye on him as much as she can and tasking Sidon with doing so when she can't. That's why Revali's been avoiding him.
He nearly died.
(...Again. He's... not sure if the Shrine of Resurrection would work for the same person a second time, or if it would work for a second time for anyone, but he doesn't really want to find out and he also somehow doubts that thought actually occurred to anyone else. Most people don’t spend a lot of time thinking about the resurrection soup.)
"Revali—"
"So to answer your question, I suppose: no, I'm not okay, and it is entirely your fault. How dare you trick me into caring about you?"
"Revali."
"It's utterly asinine." He throws up his wings. "Asinine, I tell you! I was fine with hating you, you know that? And then you had to come along from the future specifically to save my life, because I wasn't strong enough to defeat that Windblight on my own. It wasn't as if it was anything special, you would have done that for anyone and did do that for everyone, because you care, you idiot, you care so plucking much that it's literally killing you!"
"Revali."
The Rito in question sighs heavily. "I suppose I should be glad that your sign for me isn't anything more derogatory. What."
(Link's namesign for Revali involves the sign for eagle, because while he had definitely considered something like asshole or arrogant, it would have raised more questions than he wanted to answer when talking to anyone in the Rito Village of today. Also, they seem to like him. These days, he does too.)
"I didn't trick you into anything," he signs. "Or if I did, that's news to me."
"Of course it is," Revali scoffs.
"For what it's worth..." He considers his words, and almost signs something else, but thinks better of it at the last second. "I care about you too."
"Do you?" Arching a single eyebrow, he jabs a wing into the center of Link's chest. "Then don't you ever do that again. Idiot."
"Asshole," Link signs fondly. "...Look, I know that you tend to avoid hugs, but—"
"From Daruk," Revali says stiffly. "Who, might I remind you, is strong enough to wield a weapon made of solid rock and metal with one hand. I’d rather not have every bone in my body broken, thank you very much!”
“Do you want a hug?”
“I want you to never do that again.” He pauses. “I… suppose that I wouldn’t mind a hug, however. In addition to that.”
Link nods, and steps forward, and wraps his arms around Revali. He hears Revali’s breath hitch, feels him stiffen and shiver through his feathers.
“I won’t use the ocarina again,” Link says. His voice cracks. He winces at the sound. “Don’t need to, anyway.”
“If there comes an opportunity to use it again, it would already be a worst-case scenario,” Revali mutters into his hair, and Link’s not sure who he’s trying to convince. “A scenario like that would not be improved by you killing yourself. Don’t.”
“...Won’t,” Link mumbles. “Promise.”
Revali breathes out sharply, sets his head atop Link’s, and wraps his wings around him, too. He says nothing more, then. For once in his life, he doesn’t need to.
Link returns to Korok Forest as soon as he and the others have their new plan set in stone, as soon as he’s allowed to leave Zora’s Domain unsupervised. He’s still not as strong as he was a century ago, not quite—but he doesn’t have to be. Not quite yet.
At last, he’s enough to wield the sword that seals the darkness.
It’s time to save Zelda, to defeat the Calamity once and for all. But no one begrudges him for wanting to go after a few more shrines first, just to be safe.
“The final battle is soon, isn’t it?” Kass says quietly, lowering his instrument and looking toward the castle. His help in particular has been invaluable for hunting down several of the more… unorthodox shrines. Link doesn’t think he ever would have figured out the blood moon one without Kass. Or the deer one.
(It was hilarious to see the look on Revali’s face after informing him about the deer one, though—he only wishes he’d somehow gotten Kass to take a picture.)
“...Yeah,” Link signs, when Kass looks back at him. “Soon.”
“There is… something I would like to give to you, first,” Kass says, setting his bandoneon aside. “While I find the event that you of all people would fall in battle to be unlikely—”
“Give it to me after?” Link signs, and the Rito bard freezes. “Because there will be an after. We’re going to win, this time.”
They’ve got contingency plans upon contingency plans, this time. Not a single Champion is going to their Divine Beast alone, when the time comes, just in case the Blights somehow make a reappearance.
Each of them is pretty sure that, knowing how the Blight fights from experience, they could take on the Blights alone this time—but really, it’s better safe than sorry. Particularly given that Link has made promises on several separate occasions to several separate people that he wouldn’t use the ocarina again.
(He knows himself too well. He’d break those promises in a heartbeat if it means the difference between life and death for his friends, his family. The only family he has left.)
“...After,” Kass says uncertainly. “Very well. I can do that. I assume that I’ll know when it’s all over?”
“You will,” Link signs. “It’s not happening yet, I need to be as strong as I can be—but I’ve done something with every song you have, haven’t I?”
“Every one that was passed down from my old teacher, yes,” Kass murmurs, a faraway look on his face. “He would have been happy, very much so, to know that I was able to pass them down to you in particular—though, of course, I don’t intend to let his songs or my own die with either of us.”
“Good. You should go home, then. It’ll be safer there, when the time comes.”
“...I’m sure that my family does miss me, and I most certainly miss them.” Kass breathes out slowly, gaze shifting to where Vah Medoh is visible perched atop Totori Rock from far, far away indeed. “Though it will be strange, decidedly so, to return home at last after so long on the road.”
Link would agree with him, if he had a home to return to. Home’s not a place, for him—well, technically, he owns a house on the edge of Hateno Village now, but a house isn’t a home without it being lived in. Home, for him, is the people he cares about most. It’s in Rito Village, in Zora’s Domain, in Goron City and in Gerudo Town.
And it’s deep within the most dangerous place in Hyrule, the castle that contains the very heart of the Calamity that Zelda’s holding back right now. He’ll get her out. Soon.
Link nods wordlessly instead, around the lump in his throat. The next time he visits Rito Village, he can hear Kass’s daughters practicing their singing—and the unmistakable sound of Kass playing along with them.
He finds every shrine in Hyrule, solves their puzzles, receives their blessings. He finds the final blessing, too, deep within the Forgotten Temple. It’s an outfit, strangely familiar. Strangely green. The most comfortable outfit he’s ever worn, and it fits him perfectly.
He wears it while he’s chasing down the last of the memories held in Zelda’s photographs, then returns to Impa. He hasn’t spoken to Impa since he changed history the first time, but he’d assume that even in this changed timeline he must have visited her before he went anywhere else.
Impa has something for him: a blue tunic bearing the design of a sword, his sword, and a final memory hanging there on her wall. The memory of him dying, almost, not quite. Of Zelda’s powers awakening at last, too little and too late.
The tunic isn’t as comfortable as the other outfit. But it holds far more familiarity for him. He remembers wearing it, in every fleeting memory he has.
Also, and more importantly: when he’s wearing it, he matches the others.
He likes the green outfit. He’ll wear it when he’s done, when Ganon’s finally gone for good, when he can finally take the time to breathe again. But until then, and especially when it’s finally time and he makes for the castle, he wears the blue.
Link’s extensive, single-minded in his preparations for the Calamity. He upgrades the armor he plans on wearing to the fight with the help of every Great Fairy in Hyrule, he practices with the sword that seals the darkness—not that he has to, much, before the muscle memory comes back to him—and he plans.
He doesn’t know, exactly, what fighting the Calamity will be like. No one alive knows what fighting the Calamity will be like, except for maybe Zelda, but if she has anything helpful to add her strength has waned too much to add it. Still, Mighty Elixirs and lots of hearty food will go a long way. Everything else he’s picked up and stashed away in the Sheikah Slate, he can worry about sorting through after the Calamity’s gone.
Mipha’s lent him her Grace already, of course, and Daruk his Protection. Urbosa cornered him and made sure he took a portion of her boundless Fury with him before he left to get back his sword, but Revali never offered him anything.
Not until now. Not until today.
“I give you my Gale,” Revali murmurs, pressing his forehead to Link’s before he goes. “Which is to say that I give you a small portion of it, and I will be taking that portion back once you’re done fighting Ganon, thank you very much. However—”
“Thank you,” Link whispers. “I love you.”
Revali doesn’t exactly say, “I love you too.”
No, what comes out of his beak instead is, “Then you’d better not die on me now.”
(Link gets the message.)
Single-minded as he is, Link does not notice that some of the things he’d been hoarding in the Sheikah Slate have mysteriously gone missing: his entire supply of Endura Carrots and Bokoblin Guts, most of his Hightail Lizards, and all but one of his Hot-Footed Frogs.
It’s less that he doesn’t notice that his horses aren’t at the stables where he left them, so much as that he asked the stablehands to keep them as far away from Hyrule Castle as possible and didn’t ask follow-up questions. If he were to ask follow-up questions, he might discover that Tael is still at Gerudo Canyon Stable, while Tatl has found herself at Wetland Stable.
But Link doesn’t have time for follow-up questions, or for checking on things he won’t need. What matters is that the Calamity goes down, and that as few people as possible are at risk of going down with it, and anything else— everything else—can wait.
Zelda’s power, strong as it has been all these long years, falters moments after Link makes it to the center of Hyrule Castle. If he was anything like the old man on the Plateau he refuses to dignify with the title of king or father anymore, he might be bitter over the timing.
He’s not. He can’t be. He’s simply relieved that Zelda was able to hold out as long as she did—and if a part of him quietly wonders if her strength failing now, specifically, is because he’s here, the rest of him lunges forward towards the Calamity, searching desperately for any sign of his friend falling from that cocoon.
He finds her, offers her a hand—just in time for the Calamity to regain its bearings, just in time for the stony floor beneath them to splinter and crack and fall.
“Hold on!” Link shouts, and as Zelda hugs him for dear life he pulls out the paraglider, and soars down after it. After the Calamity.
The sword that seals the darkness calls out to the Calamity like a flame to an unknowing moth—and the Calamity, trapped for so long with nothing but Zelda for company, takes the bait instantly. Which is good, because that means Zelda can stay back and keep herself safe.
“I can help,” Zelda insists, intent gleaming in her eyes. “Do you have anything…?”
Anything… extra? Well, nothing that she can use. Except… the Sheikah Slate itself. He offers her a smile, and the Slate that was hers so many years ago, because while she may not have much experience in actual combat? She’s one of the most resourceful people Link has ever met.
Her eyes light up, taking it, and he knows he’s made the right choice.
(He doesn’t remember, exactly, why he’s so certain that she’s so resourceful—but he doesn’t need to remember it. He's right, anyway.)
Link’s more than ready to leap into the fight. So, he thinks, is Calamity Ganon—though it’s eyeing him warily, as it should. But it’s for the best that they both hesitate, circling each other—because it’s then, precisely then, that something ricochets down after them. Four massive blasts of power, coalescing into a single blue-white burst of pure energy that makes the Calamity hurt.
It’s close enough that Link can feel the heat against his skin, but he's not afraid of it. If anything, he's less afraid, knowing that everything went alright on their end. He can almost picture each of them calling out the attack, now that the time has finally come. It's time for vengeance.
Admittedly, some of that vengeance is about things that only Link now remembers... but it's the principle of the matter. Ganon didn't kill the Champions, not in this timeline—and yet each of those Blights gleefully would have, in a heartbeat, if they'd been given the chance.
"That was..." Zelda's eyes are wide, when he looks at her. "Link, it is at approximately half of its previous strength now!"
He grins at her and signs, "Then let's get rid of the other half."
The Calamity roars, preparing to attack. Link draws the sword that seals the darkness, and pulls the shield unlike any other he'd found on his way into the castle off his back. Zelda grips the Sheikah Slate tightly, gaze flicking between the runes available to her before she settles on one.
Before Calamity Ganon can strike, as it's rearing back to do so, Zelda taps the screen. Calamity Ganon freezes, glowing gold with the unmistakable sheen of Stasis. It'll fade fast—it always does, when used even on the lesser monsters, and Calamity Ganon is definitely not a lesser monster—so Link doesn't have time to think. Doesn't have time to call upon Fury the normal way.
He shifts his shield arm instead, so that his left hand is free. Ganon emerges from Stasis, just in time for Link to snap and for lightning to crash down upon it from nowhere. He's never been more ready for anything in his life—of that, he's sure.
All he has to do now is avoid dropping the ball.
As it turns out, defeating Calamity Ganon the rest of the way, even after the Divine Beasts have weakened it, is much easier said than done. Zelda picks up the Slate's new functions fast—Link can't help but wonder how much of a terror she would have been, if she'd had access to them in the past—and thankfully keeps herself mostly to the edge of the chamber. Still, neither of them are able to do all that much against the Calamity. He knows that the Master Sword is dealing damage, little by little, and that's something.
All he has to do is outlast something that was biding its time for a century, while he was lying uselessly comatose in a pool of resurrection soup.
He wishes he'd made more stamina elixirs. It's far too late for that now, even if Zelda could toss something his way, and while he's pretty sure that stamina-wise he's returned to the level he was at before the Calamity, he's... tiring. Faster than he'd like.
It's fine. He can still keep fighting. He can still fight, simply because he has to—
"Remember me?!" comes a shriek from above, from the tunnel they'd fallen through. Link can't see who said that, shouted it, screamed it really—but he'd know that voice anywhere, now.
He'd know the trio of Bomb Arrows shooting at Ganon anywhere, too. One connects with the arm being raised to attack, another with the cannon not unlike the Windblight's—and the third, of course, the third explodes between Ganon's eyes.
The Calamity wails. Revali touches down. Both Link and Zelda rush over to join him.
"Hello, Link. Hello, Zelda," Revali says blandly. "Good to see the two of you still in one piece. You didn't seriously think that I'd be letting you fight that without me, did you?"
"...Yes, but I admittedly did think you would be more concerned about Rito Village than either of us," Zelda says quietly. "It's good to see you. Very good to see you. Though I'm a little surprised that you... oh, never mind that right now!"
Oh. Right. Zelda has no way of knowing about any of the more recent developments between himself in Revali. If she sees the wink that Revali shoots him behind her back, she doesn’t comment on it.
(She probably does see the wink back, but she doesn’t comment on that either.)
“Never mind indeed,” Revali says, voice slightly strained. “Let’s kill this thing, shall we?”
“Let’s,” Zelda murmurs, a hundred-plus years of rage and grief all bottled up warring to be let out at last.
Link, for his part, only nods before charging forward again. A breather, any breather, is nice. Having Revali here—it’s dangerous, immensely so, but he can handle himself. And a selfish part of Link is glad to have more backup, against this thing.
Realistically, Link shouldn't be surprised when, moments after using up the last bit of Fury he's been lent, another massive surge of lightning comes in answer. He's still not sure if he is actually surprised or not when he looks up and sees Urbosa, gliding down with a paraglider not dissimilar to his in what is definitely not the intended way, with one arm looped through both straps and the other, holding her scimitar, pointed directly at the Calamity.
"Sorry for the delay, little bird," Urbosa calls down, sheathing her scimitar and making no move to shift back to two hands with the paraglider.
"Urbosa!" Zelda sounds surprised—and delighted. "Why are you... how are you...?"
"You didn't seriously think I was the only one coming?" Revali teases her. "I'm merely the one who arrived fastest."
Folding up the paraglider as her heels touch the floor, Urbosa nods. "It was his idea—and I for one am quite glad that he talked me into carrying one of these myself."
"What was I supposed to do, just have all those extras lying around useless?" He scoffs. "Hardly. Even if you're using it wrong."
"And why, I wonder, would you have so many—"
"Ganon," Revali interrupts. "We'll have time to talk after Ganon."
He takes to the air, as much as he can in this admittedly spacious cavern deep below Hyrule Castle. Urbosa nods, a hint of unconcealed amusement to her motions, retrieving her own scimitar and shield.
Link could have taken Ganon on his own. He could have taken Ganon even without Zelda's Sheikah Slate wizardry, he's pretty sure—but having Revali and Urbosa here too, he suddenly feels much better about their odds.
(...Is Daruk coming too? Is Mipha?)
Among other things, Calamity Ganon is a cheating bastard. Which does make sense, in retrospect—why would the physical manifestation of hatred incarnate simmering away for thousands of years even consider something like fighting fair?—but it's still annoying, immensely so, when it manages to shield itself to the point where almost nothing actually does damage to it.
Here's a non-exhaustive list of what does hurt the Calamity when that shimmery red shield keeps almost everything else from doing anything at all: Urbosa's Fury, reflecting the blasts from its cannon back at it with a shield, and Daruk, in his Protection, crashing into the Calamity like a very pissed off cannonball from above.
That really should be the end of it, even if Mipha hasn't arrived—and yet it isn't. The Calamity screams, then vanishes into wisps of Malice. Link would think that it is dead, actually, except that the Malice doesn't dissipate like it had for the Blights. If anything, it intensifies, before shooting upwards faster than even Revali's Gale could go.
"...Great," Daruk grumbles. "Hey there, tiny princess, everyone—any ideas on how we're gettin' back up?"
"I-I think that... perhaps..." Zelda winces. "I don't know—"
The ground begins to shake. Rocks fall, as the ceiling of this chamber begins caving in around them, above them. Well, fuck.
"No time," Daruk decides, spreading his arms wide. "Everybody in, now!"
Link reaches him first, Urbosa second, the two of them sprinting for the safety of his Protection. Zelda dashes in moments later, shuddering where she's wedged between Urbosa and Link, and Link would try and comfort her if he wasn't carefully scanning the room for Revali, who's—
"Don't worry about me," Revali declares, crouching to call upon his Gale. "I'll meet you—"
A chunk of ceiling crashes down close to him, far too close to him. He yelps aloud, focus lost, and stumbles backwards.
"Revali, get over here," Daruk hollers louder.
"I can—"
"We know you can make it," Urbosa shouts—Link is almost certain she's lying to keep Revali from trying to fly out just to be contrary. "You don't have to!"
Revali looks up again. Looks over at them. There's fear in his eyes, desperation. Link makes eye contact with him. His voice won't work, it never works when he needs it to most—but he mouths the word please.
The ground shakes harder. Parts of the walls are falling, the ceiling's about to give entirely. Revali makes his decision, takes to the air—and darts towards them. He cries out in alarm—in pain?—as a shard of ceiling crashes down close to him, too close to him. He reaches them, crashes into them really, at the last possible second.
The ceiling collapses. Daruk shouts, hugging everyone close with everything he has, his Protection flaring to life around them brighter and bigger than Link's ever seen it before. Soon, the only light is that dull red—but that's better than nothing. Leagues better than nothing.
The shaking stops. Protection fades, and Link can't see a thing.
"Everyone okay?" Daruk asks. Link makes a vague noise of assent, hopes the Goron will interpret it as such. "'Bosa, tiny princess? Revali?"
"I am alright," Zelda murmurs.
"As am I," Urbosa chimes in.
"I just... I need to think... we have to get back up there." Zelda pauses. "...Revali?"
"Fine," comes the clipped response. "Barring the obvious, but I expect none of you can see a thing right now, so that hardly counts.”
Link tries to remember where Revali had been before Daruk let his Protection fall, and reaches out. He feels feathers, warm against his fingers, and—blood.
"Whoever that is, I'm fine!" Revali insists. "Just... a scratch."
"That isn't me," Urbosa says, "but I'm not sure I believe you."
"Not me either." Zelda sounds distracted. "I just... I need to focus. I can do this."
"...Link, then." Revali gives his hand a squeeze. It's weaker than normal, not as reassuring as it's meant to be. "I'll live. It's nothing debilitating."
"That's good to hear," Daruk says, "but unless the lot of you wanna die down here, now's a good time to start diggin'. Or—tiny princess? Zelda?"
"I can do this," Zelda says quietly. There's a little bit of light in the darkness, golden, and Link can't figure out the source. "I know that I can, now. I believe that... Mipha is on her way too, yes?"
"I was going to fly out and get her help," Revali grumbles, which is as much of a confirmation as anything else.
"Okay." She takes a deep breath. "Okay. Everyone, hold on—"
To say that Mipha is surprised, when all five of her friends appear in a flash of golden light in front of her, is probably as much of an understatement as saying anyone else is surprised when, one moment, they're trapped far beneath Hyrule Castle—and the next, they're outside, back on the surface, and Mipha's there too.
Admittedly, while Zelda did manage to teleport all five of them to Mipha, roughly—Link could have done without having to fall at least a foot onto the road right in front of her. He supposes he should be glad that Daruk didn't fall on anyone, but the Sheikah Slate's teleportation never does that—
...Wait.
The Slate could have gotten them all out.
Well, he's a dumbass, but in his defense Zelda has the Slate right now and also he was a little busy panicking over Revali. Not without cause! A look over at him proves that he was right—one of his wings looks a mess, and he really, really hopes it's not as bad as it looks.
He turns to Mipha, and—wait, is that Tatl? His horse? ...Side-eyeing her strongly?
"Hello, Link," Mipha says mildly. "I do not believe that your horse likes me very much, but fortunately we did not have to travel far together. Are you hurt?"
Link shakes his head, points in Revali's direction.
"I'm..." Revali stares at his wing, at the blood staining his feathers. It’s nowhere near as much as Link feared, in the darkness, but any amount of blood on the outside is generally more than the ideal.
“Ah,” Revali says faintly. “I’m still mostly fine.”
“I am certain you are.” Mipha doesn’t sound at all like she believes him, but she goes to him anyway, reaching for her healing immediately. Only once she has already begun to patch Revali up does she ask, "Is it... over?”
"It is not over," Zelda says quietly. “Not yet.”
She looks at the Slate, then winces. "And this has... Link, the Slate has gone dark, why has it...? Do you know what is happening?”
Oh. He silently shakes his head. So much for using the Slate to get out after all, but the Slate going dark seems bad.
The loud, furious roar from the direction of Hyrule Field seems worse. Considerably worse. Revali startles, goes to call upon his Gale—
"Oh, no, you do not get to do that right now," Mipha counters, a firm hand upon his good shoulder, and he reluctantly sits back down. "Link?"
Link nods to Revali, then—reaches. Crouching, spreading his arms in lieu of wings with his hands splayed wide, mimicking what he’s seen Revali himself do countless times. He’s pretty sure, from the handful of times he’d called upon Revali’s Gale on his way up to where the Calamity lurked, that he only needs to crouch.
But. It’s the principle of the matter.
(Besides—Revali’s right there. The least he can do is do him proud.)
The resulting Gale is the most powerful one Link’s ever been able to pull off, in the short time Revali’s power has been loaned to him—although it still pales in comparison to anything Link’s seen the Rito himself pull off, and he thinks that Revali knows it as well as he does.
He risks a glimpse at Revali’s face, in the split second before the force of the Gale yanks his paraglider up into the heavens and Link himself with it. Revali’s almost smiling, rueful as the look is.
And then he’s up, and he can look around. There’s the Hyrule Field tower, the one he had spent an embarrassingly long amount of time trying to sneak up without getting the attention of any nearby Guardians. There’s the castle, close by.
Neither of those things matter next to the massive, Malice-covered... thing, that must take up a quarter of Hyrule Field with its sheer size alone. It resembles a boar, almost, with massive tusks and violent pink-magenta flames flaring up from its back.
He doesn’t see any openings for him to stick his sword into, which is concerning— but he, admittedly, doesn’t have time to look very long. Not after he makes eye contact with the massive beast, not after he knows in his heart and his soul even better than he already did that this is Ganon. This is the evil he was born to fight, the darkness his sword was made to seal.
(The sword on his back almost seems lighter, at the thought.)
As this new form of the Calamity’s roars again, Link folds up the paraglider and drops like a stone. He reopens it a few feet above the ground, of course, because while he does still have both the shard of Mipha’s power she’d lent him and Mipha herself right there, it would be incredibly embarrassing to break his legs right in front of her.
“Giant beast,” Link signs to the assembled group, though he looks at Zelda.
She sucks in a horrified breath. “Dark Beast Ganon...”
“Oh, great,” Revali says sarcastically, flexing the wing that, Link is pleased to see, now looks considerably better. “How many final forms does the Calamity have?”
“...I don’t know,” Zelda says, which isn’t encouraging. “But if we can defeat this one... I can end this. Once and for all.”
“That thing’s sure big,” Daruk notes, eyeing what little he can make out over the hills between them. “I like our odds!”
“I would like them better if we still had our Divine Beasts to work with,” Mipha murmurs—but Link catches what she’s not saying. Getting back there would take too long, and this beast could wreak all sorts of havoc in the meantime.
...Also, he vaguely remembers the other Champions agreeing to use all the power the Divine Beasts had left in them, to make it count, in that single shot. So it’s debatable how much good any of them would do now even if their pilots could make it back in a timely manner.
Revali looks to Mipha, as if asking permission. She hesitantly nods, and Revali shoots up to get a look at Dark Beast Ganon for himself.
“That is indeed horrifying,” Revali reports, touching down again. “The air itself, it’s... thicker, and not in a good way, even here. I don’t believe I’ll be able to maintain much altitude close to that thing."
(Link is privately grateful to his past self for encouraging just about everyone he’d run into on the road lately to stay away from the center of Hyrule in the near future. Not that the vast majority of people needed encouraging, but... still, better safe than sorry.)
“There aren’t really any openings to work with, either,” Link signs. “Unless we can burn away the Malice somehow?”
“I can certainly try,” Urbosa says, shrugging. “Though I have no reason to believe that my Fury will do any better than anything else—“
“I can create openings,” Zelda says. “If I’m close enough. If I can borrow your horse, maybe? And I think... there is one more thing. Something that I’ve known how to summon ever since my powers finally awoke, yet I never truly knew why, not until now.”
Her eyes gleam gold as something coalesces into being in her hands. A weapon. A... bow.
“Is that,” Revali squawks, “the plucking Bow of Light?”
Revali says that like he knows what it is. Like everyone here should know what that is. Link can't deny it seems familiar, vaguely so, but... he can't place it. To be fair, he can't place a lot of things that he should know, but this feels different somehow. Different in the way that the Master Sword is, like it's somehow etched into his very soul.
Zelda looks down at the bow. Looks back at Revali. “I... believe so, yes?”
Link reaches for the Bow of Light, eyes it for a moment, then passes it along to Revali—and tries not to smirk, too much, at the barely coherent noise he gets in response.
“You’re the better archer,” he signs. Very deliberately. “If you can’t fly too close—could you land on the back of Tatl’s saddle?”
“Who—“ Revali stares at him, dumbfounded. “Your horse? Of course I could do such a thing, but I doubt your horse would be very happy with me for doing so!”
“She cannot be angrier with you than she currently is with me,” Mipha points out, stepping carefully a little farther away from the horse that is, indeed, more disgruntled than Link has ever seen her before.
...Honestly, Link'll have to give Tatl so many apples later, if she’d put up with Mipha actually riding her for a not insignificant amount of time.
"Issue," Daruk says. "The three of you aren't all fittin' on that horse."
Link doesn't see the issue. Revali can shoot better than him, and Zelda can give Revali the openings he needs, and he can... run alongside them on foot, or something?
...Maybe not. He's starting to see the issue. Someone needs to steer Tatl, Zelda hasn't ridden a horse in a century, and Link has the funniest feeling that this might be the most time Revali has spent in somewhat close proximity to a horse ever.
"Your other horse should still be near here," Urbosa says thoughtfully—wait, is that how she made it to the fight so fast herself? "He seemed to like me well enough. Perhaps Zelda can ride with me, and Revali can ride with you?"
Zelda stares at her. "You can ride a... I suppose it's foolish of me to assume otherwise, but..."
Urbosa smiles back, the expression tinged with sadness. "It was one of your mother's favorite pastimes. She showed me how to ride horseback, I taught her how to seal surf."
Daruk clears his throat. "Alrighty—I'm definitely not gettin' on a horse, but the not-so-tiny princess and I can stick together, help either of ya out if you need it?"
"That sounds reasonable," Mipha says. "Please, all of you—be careful, and if you are hurt, do not hesitate to fall back to me. We can do this. Together."
Link agrees—not verbally, but by whistling loudly.
Tatl's ears prick up, and she trots over to join him, whinnying at him until he pats her flank reassuringly. Tael approaches from the direction of Hyrule Castle at a gallop, slowing only once he catches sight of Link, and yeah, both of them are getting so many apples once all this is over. Every apple that he's got in the Slate and then some, if he can get it working. If he can't... well, he knows some good places to find apple trees.
"Together," Link whispers.
All eyes go to him. For the first time in a very long time, he smiles back at the five people he cares most about in the world, in all the ways that applies. Friends, family, even more than that.
His thoughts go, briefly, to the ocarina left somewhere in the Slate. He couldn't get it now if he wanted to, not unless the Sheikah Slate suddenly decides to start working again if it's given back to him, and he doesn't exactly have time to ask for it now. He could try anyway, if he really, really wanted to.
The thing is? He doesn't. This is terrifying, even more so than walking into that castle to fight Calamity Ganon was so many hours ago. But that won't stop him. Being scared of things hasn't ever stopped him before. He's not about to let that stop him now.
He thinks that might be called courage.
Courage need not be remembered, for it is never forgotten.
Mipha tells him, after it's all over, about the family he'd forgotten. He had a father who was a knight before him, a little sister who spent most of her time in Zora's Domain after he died, helping out Mipha and Sidon wherever she could. Who hoped that she'd get to see him again, but understood all too well that it would be unlikely, and had written letters to him. A lot of letters. Reading them, he can almost picture his sister's face; can almost convince himself that her messages weren't one way only.
His father survived the Calamity too, according to Daruk—one of the only knights to, and while Link suspects Daruk himself may have been involved in how that happened, he doesn't ask, and Daruk doesn't offer. The two of them had barely known each other in the time Before, but Link is... less surprised than he would have expected to be, to find that they'd gotten along well after he... well, died. Daruk doesn't have letters to pass on, but what he does have is stories, and that's... that's something, at least, and it's more of something than he expected, and it has the fun side effect of making Yunobo think that, between Link and Zelda and his own father, all Hylians must clearly be incredibly strong and brave. Clearly.
Neither he nor Revali are much inclined to iron out the specifics of what has somehow turned into a relationship in the immediate aftermath of it all; not now, perhaps not ever, but perhaps a little sooner than that. Still, it's not a coincidence that Link accepts the long-standing invitation from Teba to stay with his family in Rito Village for a while around the same time that Revali finally moves back into Rito Village proper.
(Really, though, he had to. How else would he have gotten to see the way that Revali nearly started crying on the spot when Tulin, determined little guy that he is, shows off something that's almost, almost his Gale?)
Urbosa knows, evidently, how to seal surf. She quite deliberately does not inform Riju of this fact when her great-granddaughter offers to teach her, but in the days and weeks after the Calamity, it becomes a common sight to see the two of them racing about the Gerudo Desert like lightning given physical form. Link... has to wonder, he does—though he won't ask—if someone in the family she'd left behind might have been just as fond of seals as Riju is today.
A few days after she’s left the title of princess behind for good, Zelda tells him that she remembers what happened originally, and what changed. She doesn't tell him much else. She doesn’t have time to, as the newest member of Purah’s research team, a plucky girl who just so happens to share a name with the lost princess of Hyrule.
It takes Link longer than he would have expected to have a chance to speak with Kass privately, between the everything on Link’s end and Kass’s five young children. But eventually, there’s time.
At long last, Link discovers what Kass had for him all along: a picture of him, alongside the people who mean the most to him. Link knows, looking at it, that it’s going directly on a wall. His, ideally, next to the picture of himself and his family Before.
At long last, Link realizes what he should do, too. Impa’s noticed, by now, that the ocarina is missing. She assumes, most likely, that it was stolen by the Yiga Clan—and Link could tell her otherwise, if she doesn’t figure it out on her own. He’s told Paya; after all, she was the reason he could save his friends in the first place.
He tells Kass, too.
“For the next hero that needs it,” Link whispers, holding the ocarina out to him. “Keep it safe.”
Kass looks at the ocarina. He looks at Link. He takes the instrument in his wings, reverence clear in the way he holds it.
“I will,” Kass swears, and Link fully believes him.