Chapter Text
The lamp lights of Rito village speckled the dark landscape below, a comforting reminder of the resilience of the avian race. The corruption of Ganon had spread far and wide since the fall of Hyrule centuries ago yet still the rito survived despite the perimeter of darkness surrounding their lands.
After the slaughter of the forces of light, Ganon forced the lands to yield to his sovereignty. Those were the ritos’ darkest times. With countless uprisings struck down and such pain and suffering, the descendant of the great rito hero swore to serve Ganon in exchange for the safety of rito village. He was called the Master of the Gale, a title that would pass on from father to son for countless generations. The village had other names for him: traitor, beast, monster, and villain. Only the village elder was aware of the critical role the Master of the Gale played and the price each descendant would pay. While the master served Ganon, Rito village would survive-it would not be decimated-not like the Zora of old. And so, every son of the great rito hero bore the burden and title of Master of Gale.
Terciel, son of Tivoli and Laisa, was unafraid of the night. He rested upon the tiled roof of his home overlooking the lights of the village below. Watching the lights, he would imagine what a simple life would feel like-a warm home filled with light, love, and happiness. No shadows darkening the corners. No more pretense. No more hatred. Such a life was out of his grasp. Terciel learned early that the lives of the champions were lonely ones. He watched his father train for hours, sometimes days at a time. When he was not training, he was on missions elsewhere reigning retribution on those who would attempt to usurp Ganon’s power. The rare times his father returned to their home were certainly not filled with happiness. It was a life of strict rules, image, and the burden of serving. His father wore such a mask. He was foreboding and ominous-the very picture of a Gale Master. Terciel had only seen the mask drop once-when his younger brother was killed.
Sighing Terciel lifted his eyes to the stars. He didn’t want to relive that moment or any others from his childhood. True he would never have the warmth of the lights he saw below in the homes of his people, but he was the only rito who dared to watch the stars. Each night he would sit on his roof and wait for the darkness to wash over him. Then slowly pinpoint holes to the heavens would appear above. It felt like a message reassuring him. A life in the darkness was not bereft of light-not if you had the courage to find it.
A burst of light crossed the horizon and Terciel jolted up from his roof. Had a star fallen? His eyes traced the descent of the light only to see another flame follow its path. The light was not falling but launching into the heavens and then arching down in the deep black of the village outskirts. Leaping from his home Terciel quickly descended to the outskirts. As he neared the ground, he saw a bokoblin raiding party. Terciel was outraged. How dare they enter Rito Village! So long as the Master of Gale served Ganon, no other monster would be allowed to step foot in these lands and that mistake they would soon not forget!
Terciel landed in front of the troupe, savagely summoning a vortex to launch the monsters in the air. Scrambling to their feet, the monsters slowly backed away holding their weapons at the master of the gale, but Terciel advanced. Steadily he stalked the bokoblin troupe his wings aghast and hunched. Confused the cretins raised their clubs in the air and charged forward. Terciel stood to his full height and with one vicious swipe of his wing, summoned a wave of air to slice through the clubs. Bereft of their weapons, all the bokoblins scattered, save for one. The blue one gave a growl, posturing himself against the rito. Terciel chuckled darkly and folded his wings behind his back.
“Understand now you fiend, I am the only villain my people will suffer from,” he cocked an eyebrow at the monster’s offensive stance. “Do you mean to fight me alone? Well, carry on then.”
Perhaps if the bokoblin understood the melodic string of trills and vocal inflections that came from the menacing bird, he would have turned tail and fled. As such the bokoblin had no idea what was said and foolishly charged toward his articulate foe.
Terciel took no joy in violence against the innocent, but he felt a certain sense of fulfillment launching the blue creep into the dark veil. If he was to be a menace to his people, the very least he could be was a menace to all, right? He believed in equality. His amused musing halted at the rustling of a bush.
Really another one after that display? Perhaps they would run off unlike their unlucky friend.
Resuming his hunched form, Terciel approached the brush, his wings at the ready to summon a warning gust at the intruder. Leaping forward Terciel was unprepared for the sight that beheld him, nor the flaming arrow aimed at his beak. Frozen, his gaze followed the shaft of the arrow and into fiery emerald eyes. Lightly shaking himself, he withdrew. Sitting in the brush before him was the most beautiful being he had ever laid eyes on and that being wanted to kill him.
How ironic. I did find a shooting star.
She kept her arrow trained on the Rito before her. Her breaths came in short and shallowly. A wave of pain surged through her leg, and she winced at the open wound.
Terciel was hardly gentle. He rarely needed to be, but in that moment, he mustered his softest voice to calm the enchanting being before him.
“I mean you no harm,” he raised his feathers out below him. “I can help you.”
“Help me? I know…I know who you are,” she spat out while fixing the aim of her arrow directly to his heart.
“Ah my reputation proceeds me,” Terciel responded slowly and far less confidently than he would’ve liked.
With much difficultly, she rose from the brush shifting her weight to her uninjured leg. She was smaller than other rito. Even standing at her full height her head only barely reached his shoulders. Had she not worn the circular braids of a fully-grown maid, he would have thought her a maiden barely out of her fledgling years. The light of the arrow illuminated her pale gold and white feathers in a rosy hue. Terciel was caught in conflict between wishing to shepherd her toward the safety of the village and to commit her image to memory.
Her legs wobbled, and she fell to the ground dropping the bow and unleashing the arrow into the ground at her side. Even in the dim light Terciel could see that the wound was deep. It needed to be cared for immediately. He knelt before her intending to tie a wrap around her wound. His sudden movement startled her and once again the bow was raised but without its arrow.
He gave a small smile, pulled the arrow from the ground and handed it to her.
“As you seem so intent to shoot me, why not train your arrow on me while I tend to your leg?” Pulling his tunic to the side he ripped a long strip of fabric away.
“Aren’t you afraid that I will kill you? Or do you think I’m incapable?”
“I am not afraid, but I am certain you would hit your mark,” he responded, tightly wrapping the fabric to stop the blood.
“Don’t you care to live then?”
“Do you care to become a murderer?” He watched her eyes widen at the accusation. “Or am I too much of a beast to be considered murdered? Perhaps it will be considered a service to the village. Ridding them of their monster once and for all.”
She watched his blue eyes glower in the dark. She could barely make the form of a rito out at all. He blended into the night too well. Lowering her bow to the side she whispered.
“Are you a beast?”
The innocent question caught him off guard. Looking into her curious gaze he found he couldn’t say. He could not share how much of a beast he truly was.
Deftly tying the ends of the fabric, Terciel chose to the ignore the question in favor of finishing her makeshift tourniquet.
“Can you stand?”
“I believe so.” Without thinking, Terciel grasped the edges of her wings and helped her to her feet. She held his feathers for support, as she shifted her weight unsteadily from the damaged leg.
It would be this moment, Terciel decided. A simple life of happiness, love, and light would begin in this moment if his life were simple. Unfortunately, his was not and so he pulled his wings away.
“You should leave,” he told her taking a step away. “The bokoblins will not return, but there are other dangers on the outskirts of the village. Can you fly?”
Surprised at his abrupt gesture she merely nodded. Stretching her wings and retrieving her bow, she lightly lifted from the ground.
“Thank you,” she hovered before him.
“Just go.” He turned from her, straining to hear her wings flapping into the distance.
As she took to the starry sky, she looked to the ground at the shadowy feature until his form retreated into the darkness. Was he a beast? If his actions were any evidence, she would say not. He was merely unafraid of the dark.