A Word from the Great Valoo

“Arch your back, wings straight, Komi! No—do like Ferara is doing. You’ll never make it through consecutive loops if you’re flying like that. You have to fly with endurance, or you won’t be able to stand up to a storm when it comes. We deliver the mail in rain, snow, sleet, or hail, remember! All right, start over, from the beginning of the sixth circuit. And remember, watch the angle of your wings—we’re not just bird imitators, flying inefficiently to and fro, we are Rito. Again!”

Senior flight instructor for junior flyers, the Rito named Jura rubbed her beak-like nose with a free hand, the other holding a clipboard full of flight reports. They had been out here all morning so far on one of the outcrops of Dragon Roost Island, located hundreds of feet above the ocean below them. The weather was fine, at least, with a cloudless sky and only a light breeze, but putting up with the younger Rito often drained Jura long before the day was over. Flying was not a learned skill, after all—it was in their very nature to fly. Unfortunately, like any motor skill, efficiency and quality still came from practice.

They were postmen, after all, and they had a title to uphold of being the best and most reliable in the trade!

Jura watched the small squad of Rito enter the diving phase of the set, all perfectly in coordination with one another, but one of the males wobbled suddenly, and Jura yelled at him to watch his posture. Too late though—Komi broke formation again from the stress of the maneuver and peeled off uselessly, barely avoiding an incident involving slamming into the rock-face of the mountain. Jura groaned, wondering for the fiftieth time that day whether some of them would ever get it.

The flight instructor opened her mouth to tell them to, once again, start over, but her words caught in her mouth as her eyes caught something else. A Rito had appeared, tall for a female and looking worn and exhausted. Her red hair hung down past her shoulders and partially covered the gold-enameled lyre she always had on her back.

Tensions had been high all throughout Dragon Roost Island for the past two days, today marking the third. Medli, caretaker to the great dragon Valoo, had departed for the summit of Dragon Roost Island two days prior, and still no word had returned from her. Every Rito was concerned, not for the safety of Medli or Valoo, but for the messages that might come returning with the caretaker. No one had fond memories of the previous times there had been such a substantial delay in the descent.

“Dismissed for the day!” Jura bellowed instead, just as thankful to finish it as any of her students would be. The world did not stop and hold its breath for every visit paid to Valoo, but Medli was a personal friend to Jura, and she was not the only one concerned with the latest visit. Valoo had been troubled, that much everyone had known, but only Medli would know the true extent of it now. Without another moment wasted, Jura hurried over toward where Medli had appeared, breaking into short flight to reach the side of her friend sooner.

But news would have to wait. She wouldn’t ask Medli to repeat it twice, anyway, even though she was as curious as anyone else, “Goddess’ grace, it’s good to see you back, Medli. Are you well? It looks as if you haven’t slept since you left.”

The caretaker to the great Valoo offered her a tired smile, appreciative of the compassion but clearly without energy to go much more than that, “I haven’t,” she responded with a sigh, “but I am as well as I can be, given the circumstances.” She glanced up toward the mountain, her mouth closing into a thin line of worry, “He is most distressed, though. I spent most of my time just calming him down. He’s incredibly wise, Jura, but he is not like us.”

The flight instructor nodded with feigned understanding, though she understood Valoo little more than the next Rito beyond the simple things. Not many could speak Ancient Hylian, after all. Jura turned her head to make sure none of her students were waiting on her for anything. No, they would be busy spreading the word of Medli’s return like wildfire. No need to alert the Rito Chieftain of any kind of meeting—it would be his first priority upon hearing the news.

Their walk was mostly conducted in silence, though, any Rito who saw them nodded with respect and kept their distance from the instructor and the beleaguered caretaker. With nothing more than the padding of their own footfalls, the two wound their way through the long, stone passages that carved their way through all of Dragon Roost. At last, they finally stopped in front of the chieftain’s offices, pausing a moment for breath before entering.

The large circular room that hosted the chieftain’s offices had a large window cut out the stone in the back of it, revealing a wide view of all the Eastern Sea, the blue waters rolling onward endlessly. At the sound of the door opening, the chieftain turned quickly away from the window, his expression softening at the sight of the exhausted Medli. A cup of a warm, soothing elixir awaited the caretaker in front of a padded chair on the other side of the chieftain’s desk. She took it gladly, and Jura shuffled her way into an edge between a wall and a bookcase, scanning the room briefly.

The chieftain’s room was neither ornate nor lavish, though he certainly was well provided for, and Jura noted that another Rito was already there as well, sitting on a wooden-backed chair with parchment ready for writing. Sometimes Valoo’s messages could be quite detailed. The Rito chieftain nodded at Medli as she sat down, only bothering to say, “When you’re ready, dear.”

A sip and swallow later, Medli spoke, her words sounding as if they had been practiced to avoid being unclear or, perhaps, shaken, “The great Valoo is most disturbed, chieftain. In all my years I have only seen him so bothered by the winds just once before.” Fifteen years ago was the time; she did not need to explain the event. “But he leaves us with instruction: when the clouds darken, we must leave the skies. A great storm is coming, and we must alert our friends before it is too late to take shelter.”