Sky froze, one foot hovering over the ground mid-step. If there was one thing he knew it was that if one of the other heroes shouted a command, you followed it, as swiftly and proficiently as possible. It could save you from an arrow to the head or the otherwise inescapable blast of a hidden bomb.
This time, though, Sky could see no discernable threat in their vicinity, just peaceful, rolling fields and the smoke from their campfire on the crest of the hill trailing a lazy, arrow-straight line towards the sky. He looked at Hyrule curiously.
“What is it?”
Hyrule had turned beet red.
“Ah–sorry Sky, it’s just that you’re about to step on a fairy circle.”
Sky’s gaze drifted to the ground below his looming foot and, sure enough, there was a ring of tufted grass there interspersed with the occasional burgeoning grey mushroom.
He stepped back, lowering his foot to the ground a safe distance from the circle.
He was confused. Not about the fairy circle itself–he had heard the stories when he was young, about how fairies gathered in these little mushroom circles and how they contained magic unknown to mere Hylians–it was a common fairytale told to children in Skyloft.
No, he was confused because Hyrule was perhaps the least superstitious person he knew (no doubt a result of the severe lack of companionship growing up. Sky supposed he had little in the way of stories and superstitions passed to him like he did).
“It’s funny how some myths transcend even the borders of our separate dimensions,” Sky muttered absentmindedly. “I was told those stories too when I was young.”
“They’re not just stories.” Hyrule no longer looked embarrassed; his brows arched in surprise.
“So fairies really do gather in them?” Sky asked with a small smile. He was only half humouring him; who knew how things worked in Hyrule’s world, it was infinitely different to Skyloft.
Hyrule squinted and angled his head to the side.
“Not so much anymore. There aren’t enough fairies left in the world for them to be used as meeting points like they used to, but there is a tradition among the fae that you leave an offering in every fairy circle you pass.”
“Truly?” Sky asked, not entirely sure what to think.
Hyrule nodded and began searching through his leather satchel, digging deep until he found what he was looking for. He smiled and opened his fist for Sky to see. In his palm lay a miniscule bottle of blood-red potion, glass and stoppered with the smallest cork Sky had ever seen.
Sky shoots him an amused look.
“Do you always keep fairy-sized gear with you?”
“You never know when you might need it,” Hyrule smiled.
“The Veteran must be rubbing off on you.”
But as Hyrule continued to clamber up the hill, Sky looked back at the ring of mushrooms. He couldn’t help but imagine Hyrule travelling alone in his world leaving small pieces of his depressingly meagre worldly possessions in each fairy circle he passed.
When he turned to follow his friend, it was with a growing fondness in his heart.
