A/N: Why do I do this? Because plot bunnies are like a song that gets stuck in your head—YOU CANNOT GET RID OF THEM AND THEY WILL DRIVE YOU MAD until you cave in and start singing. Well, in spite of all the other fics I've got going, I intend to develop this particular plot bunny. It's a story set in the post-BotW Zeldaverse, but with an plot revolving around entirely original characters that has nothing to do with the Triforce or saving the Princess. If the Elder Scrolls games can give us fanfics not involving a main game plot, so can the rich lore of the Zelda games. This story will feature a plot not unlike Indiana Jones or National Treasure, but set in a Hyrule recovering from the events of BotW, and the primary themes of it will be adoption, family, and identity. Enjoy!

The Hebra range was among the most treacherous regions of Hyrule; aside from the section of the Royal Highway leading from the Woodlands and a few side paths through narrow passes, there was little reason to pass through aside from a key trade route and the plentiful hunting to be had in the frozen forests. The latter reason was what drew the Rito couple there as they flew gracefully around the sky, looking for game to hunt.

"I see nothing, Tovo," the female of the pair said as she gazed at the ground; "should we head home? We already have some meat to bring back."

Her male counterpart shook his head. "Not just yet, Mivli. What we have isn't enough; winter will arrive soon enough, and with it the first big storms. We'll need all the food we can get. There may be some bears or moose if we try a little further North—"

"What's that over there?"

Tovo looked in the direction of his mate's gaze; a few plumes of smoke rose from the direction of the Royal Highway. "A caravan camp, perhaps? It's not terribly cold yet. The paths are still fairly traversable... they may have seen game, or have some meat to sell."

Nodding, they flew in the direction of the smoke. The source was indeed a caravan, but not from campfires. Instead, what they found was the scene of a massacre. The smoke billowed up from the remains of wagons, covered and otherwise, the contents gone. Bodies were littered across the ground, some with sword wounds, others with arrows and bolts sticking out of them. Mivli and Tovo looked at each other with grave expressions; they did not need to guess at the reason for the death. Moblins, bokoblins, lizalfos... so many monsters lurked around the dark places off the road that traveling was already a danger.

"Poor souls," Tovo sighed, "We will have to tell the Chieftain of this. Other settlements must be warned of the dangers along the road, or more innocents may suffer the same fate..."

Mivli began to respond when a sound from the wreckage interrupted her; from their vantage in the sky, it sounded like crying. Circling in to land, they searched for the source, only to find two Hylian women, perfectly still, pressed tightly against something small for its protection. Tovo carefully moved one of the bodies aside to reveal what they were protecting: a small Hylian babe, a newborn from the small size. The boy was wailing in fear and cold; Mivli, responding to a growing maternal instinct within her, grabbed a nearby piece of cloth and wrapped the baby up in it, cradling it carefully.

"What will we do with this little one? We cannot leave him here," Mivli said as she attempted to calm the newly-orphaned infant.

Tovo frowned in thought. "We must send word to the nearest Hylian settlement. Perhaps someone there can take him in."

"No, that won't work. The weather is growing colder, and I see thick clouds to the Northeast; the first blizzard will arrive soon, and the roads and passes will fill up with snow, the skies too dangerous to fly in. Our village is his only option."

"Mivli, the boy is Hylian. Would it not be better for him, kinder even, to give him to his people?"

A pause passed as she considered the thought, but in the end she shook her head. "That may be so, but we don't even know who can raise him. I would rather he be safe among our people than place such a young chick at risk, even to be with his kind."

"It will be a hard life," Tovo responded. "Hylians cannot fly."

"He will have a home, and a family. Besides, didn't Orilo say he wanted a little brother?"

Tovo thought carefully, and smiled. "Yes, I believe he did. You are right, my love; this one is now our responsibility. But what shall we name him?"

As the boy ceased crying and began to slumber in Mivli's arms, she brushed a wingtip against his forehead. "Hatch. We shall call him Hatch."

TWELVE YEARS LATER

The sun shone down on a small patch of grass in the Tabantha region as a young Hylian boy lay there, watching the various morning birds flit and fly about with wild abandon. The boy wore his jet-black hair in a shaggy ear-length fashion, with two feathers stuck in the left side and a bead braid hanging beneath. As he gazed up at the birds with his brown eyes, he felt a longing in his heart, an envy that he could not break free of. Reaching into a hip sack and pulling out a small wooden flute, he let loose a flurry of notes that seemed to mimic the songs of the birds enough that one of them alighted on his knee, apparently curious. He was small for a Hylian his age, with a slender frame. This seemed to make him appear less intimidating to wild animals, birds in particular. Perhaps it was his clothing as well as his size that attracted birds; his attire was downy gray in color, with some specks of black here and there accentuated by the occasional colored dye pattern and some traditional beadwork. Short black feathers were worked along the sleeves of his shirt, giving the slight impression of a fledgling bird's wings. His trousers ended in dull yellowish sleeves that matched the color of his boots, which had three black stones on the tip in a manner resembling a bird's talons. All in all, he must have looked like some strange form of chick to the small bird resting on him as it tweeted curiously. He once again responded with a few notes on his flute before the bird flew away, its curiosity satisfied for the moment.

The boy was snapped out of his reverie at an amazing sight; high above the ground, a mystical glowing green form flew through the air, the winds seeming to pick up as it passed by. He had heard tales of the being, but had never before seen it himself. And yet, at sight, he knew exactly what it was.

Farosh! The Green Dragon of the Goddess of Courage!

Excitedly, the boy leapt to his feet and began following the path of the dragon as he leapt nimbly from his patch of grass to a nearby boulder, then from the boulder to a larger one before effortlessly clambering up a rock wall and hopping to a rock spire from there. He moved gracefully, his light frame well-suited to this acrobatic style of movement that brought him as close to flying as a Hylian was able to get without a paraglider. His heart raced; the stories mentioned boons the dragon might give to brave mortals, on behalf of the goddess it served. He knew in his heart what he would wish for, should he ever manage to reach the dragon... unfortunately, just as he reached the top of a hillock, the serpentine being vanished into a strange portal that opened up in the sky. The boy almost began to shout his wish after it, but by the time his breath returned to him the dragon was already gone. With a disappointed sigh, he turned and kicked the grass in frustration. It was at that moment, as he looked down at his feet, that he saw a shadow looming above him.

"Oh no."

Running in a near-panic, the boy tried to escape the descending form only to be snatched off the ground by his shoulders, talons grasping tightly onto him as he squirmed.

"Argh! Lemme go!"

"No."

"Oriloooo!" the boy whined annoyedly.

His abductor sighed back. "Hatch, you know you're not supposed to go climbing around the pillars. Mother and Father would have my tail feathers if anything happened to you."

"I was doing just fine, Ril! I don't need you to—"

"Evidently, you do," Orilo responded. "Besides, I was told to bring you back to the village anyway. The ceremony won't wait for you to finish scampering around in places you shouldn't."

The mention of the ceremony seemed to calm Hatch down a bit. "I know, but that's not until midday. I figured I had time to play a little while longer..."

A few moments of silence passed; the quiet was broken by Orilo. "So, have you practiced?"

"Of course I've practiced. I've been practicing the whole year for this!"

"So what will you play on that flute of yours?"

Hatch smirked impishly. "It's a surprise."

"So, 'The Conquest of Vah Medoh', then," Orilo replied with a smirk of his own. "Don't act so surprised. I know how much you like that story."

"I wish I could just sing it like everyone else... but I think I've gotten good enough to win."

Orilo nodded and gave a warm chuckle. "I know you will, little brother."

The pair soon found themselves arriving at the Rito Village, the form of the defunct Divine Beast Vah Medoh still perched atop the tallest spire. Orilo carefully deposited his adoptive sibling on a wooden platform before landing gracefully next to him, ruffling his black and orange feathers a bit to shake off the exertion as he began to walk through the village with Hatch by his side. The village had done well for itself since the end of the Calamity and the reformation of Hyrule that occurred shortly after Hatch was born. Hatch often wondered about the Champion, as the great Hero had just finished his business in the village by the time of his adoption; while his parents had not had the honor of meeting the Champion, Chieftain Kaneli did, and the latter was more than happy to speak of the great man and his deeds.

A few hours later, the village stood around a large platform in the village, observing a number of Rito children and Hatch lined up before Chieftain Kaneli. The old bird held up an ornate beaded and feathered necklace as he began to speak.

"The Ceremony of Song will now begin! Who will receive the honor of wearing this necklace as they lead their peers in a song of their choosing at Warbler's Nest? We shall soon see!"

The ceremony began; one by one, the participants stepped forward and serenaded the village with a song of their choice; finally, it was Hatch's turn. He was nervous at first—would they accept his flute as a substitute for Rito song?—but at the sight of his parents and Orilo, he was able to steel his nerves and begin to play. The song he had chosen, "The Conquest of Vah Medo", was a new but popular tune that detailed the Champion's heroic efforts to free the divine beast that now rested above the village, and the fierce battle above the clouds with the evil entity that lay within. Though he could not sing lyrics with the flute, the notes and runs and musical flourishes he added into his playing told the tale well enough. It was this story, and others like it, that gave Hatch a genuine love of legends and fables. While his peers had mostly grown out of that fascination Hatch had not; he didn't just enjoy the tales, he believed them deeply. He channeled this belief into his playing, and was soon swept up in the song himself. When he finished, he was pleasantly surprised to hear raucous applause from the other villagers. The truest happiness came as Chieftain Kaneli adorned him with the traditional necklace of the Song Leader.

"Young Hatch," he spoke, "you may not have been born a child of the sky, but none could now doubt you have the heart of one. You shall lead the other children in this very song before the Voo Lota Shrine at Warbler's Nest."

Hatch beamed. It was moments like this that he adored more than any other; he was keenly aware of his Hylian form, but inside he did not see himself as one. Even when the odd Hylian trader came through the village, he felt no connection with them or their culture. In his mind, he was merely a Rito without feathers, and thus the acknowledgment of that fact by the Chieftain—let alone the entire village—meant a great deal to him. He had won a great contest of his people, and soon he would participate in and even lead one of his people's oldest rituals. As Hatch happily smiled and approached his family, he was unaware of the gaze of one of his peers in the ceremony upon him.

That afternoon, Hatch was sitting happily on the platform when someone behind him grabbed the necklace and pulled it off him forcefully; as he turned, the offender grabbed his flute as well and flew up just barely out of reach.

"Mitoh! Give that back!"

The Rito chick in question gave an angry gaze. "You don't deserve this necklace! I worked hard to win the contest, and you didn't even sing!"

"You know why I used the flute! I can't—"

"That's right, you can't," Mitoh said with a cruel smirk, "Because you're not one of us. What, you thought you were a Rito just because the Chieftain said some pretty words? Because your mother and father told you? The truth is, they're idiots and liars."

This enraged Hatch, who attempted to charge Mitoh only for the bully to fly further out of reach. "YOU TAKE THAT BACK RIGHT NOW!"

"Why should I? It's true. How could you ever be a Rito? You can't even sing like we do. You might as well not even bother trying to fake your way..."

With a sadistic laugh, Mitoh tossed Hatch's prized flute off the side of the mountain. Hatch watched helplessly as it tumbled into the abyss, tears forming in his eyes to the delight of his bully.

"What's the matter, Hatch? Just jump right off the side and grab it. Oh, wait, that's right... you can't fly! Hahahaha! Might as well jump anyway. At least that way you won't embarrass the village anymore!"

Hatch couldn't help but shiver and try to hold back his tears as Mitoh flew away with the necklace, laughing at him as he did so. After a few more moments of quiet, he ran home to his family's hut. By the time he got there, he was sobbing heavily, and he nearly tackled his mother in his rush for comfort.

"What's wrong, sweetie? Where's your necklace and flute?" His mother looked him over worriedly.

"M-Mitoh... he... h-he t-t-took the n-necklace, th-threw my f-flute off the ledge..."

Orilo frowned in anger. "That little brat..."

"I'll speak to the Chieftain and ask him to get a replacement necklace for you, and then in the morning I'll fly over to the nearest settlement and get you a brand-new flute," Tovo said as he moved to comfort Hatch as well.

In spite of the warm hugs from his mother and father and the promise of a new flute, it was Mitoh's words that truly caused him pain. Hatch had heard them before, but not like this; this time, he had dared to win a Rito contest and prove his place, or so he thought. But the victory and pride he felt were now utterly crushed.

"Wh-why..."

Tovo looked down at his crying son. "Why what, little wing?"

"WHY COULDN'T I HAVE BEEN BORN A RITO?"

The anguished cry tore through the hut, prompting soft words from his Mivli. "My precious boy, you are a Rito. You have the heart and soul of a Rito, and you have us, and that is enough."

"B-but I... I c-can't sing, I can't f-fly..."

A pause came through as his family wondered how to calm him. Finally, something occurred to Mivli, and she began to speak. "Do you recall the Elder ever telling the tale of the Hero of Storms?"

Hatch looked up at her; he had heard the name and the story before. The Chieftain would often regale the children of the village with traditional Rito tales, and one of them involved a great Hero thousands of years ago who defeated an evil Sorcerer by the name of Vaati.

"Well, did you know that the Hero had a special feather? It was called the Roc's Feather, and they said that he could fly through the sky with its power. A Hylian, flying as high as any Rito... the Champion, too, flew, though in a different manner. Tomorrow, your father will have a new flute for you, and you will sing as we do once again. And perhaps someday, you will find a way to fly like the Hero and the Champion did."

Hatch's crying slowly began to subside as his mother spoke. His sorrow was banished further by Orilo. "And rest assured, if Mitoh tries anything with your new flute, he won't be flying for a good while if I have anything to say about it."

Tovo gave him a disapproving look. "Orilo..."

"What? No one hurts my brother without answering to me. That's what big brothers are for, right?"

With that, Hatch's crying slowly ceased. Things were still decidedly not okay. But they would get better. And there was now a new story in his mind, one that he silently latched onto as a way to perhaps fulfill the boon he had intended to ask of Farosh that morning, the wish he had made every time he looked up at the birds in the sky.

His peers would have said that the Feather was nothing but a story. But now, as always, Hatch believed.