Tingle sighed as he watched the hero go. He sat upon his damp log, body uncomfortably heavy and mind painfully dark. How long had he been like this? It felt like ages. Though he had only wisps of memories from what he assumed were other lives, the only constant was that green-clad hero. He was certain he was the key to getting his fairy powers back. After all, he distinctly remembered the guy having a fairy at one point.

And therein was the problem. Tingle was strange. He knew he was. He gave off creepy vibes that made children cry and parents glare. People swerved around him in the streets, eyeing his green tunic with disdain and muttering very rude things under their breath. His claims of being a fairy were cute when he was a boy, but now even his own parents had shunned him.

But it was true. His dreams—some so vivid that he could almost taste them, and others so frustratingly obscure that he could only recall the emotions—had him flying through the sky on glittering wings of bright green, a trail of dust glistening behind him. His magic thrummed through his body, resonating with the nature of the world around him. He could recall the feeling of settling into the groove of a treebranch, or the fear of being bottled.

He was certain. He was a fairy, trapped in the body of a hylian. Was he cursed? He didn't know. He couldn't remember. He once swore he produced some fairy magic when he was ten, but he'd been unable to replicate it since. Even the other fairies were put off by him, and tended to flutter away before he could get close.

Nobody liked him. He was a freak. A monster clad in green. The only person who had ever treated him with any semblance of normality or kindness was the hero. The hero had to be the key to this, somehow. Why else would the goddess put them on crossing paths? Even Tingle didn't think she'd be cruel enough to tease him like that.

Regardless, he turned his gaze towards the sky, idly pulling at his too-tight green jumpsuit. He just wanted his wings back. Was that really so strange? So wrong?

"Hello little fairy." A voice spoke from the shadows, and Tingle's eyes widened when he caught sight of the man. He looked like the hero, but he wasn't clad in green. He was clad in black, like someone had removed all the color. "I heard you were missing a little something."

"Who... are you?"

"The one who can give you your wings back." The grin was frightening, but Tingle was frightening to people too.

"You swear it?" He could feel the wrongness from this man. This was a deal with a devil. But if that was what it took to get his wings back... Even being a Dark Fairy was better than being a flightless hylian.

"I may trick, but I do not lie." The man held out a hand. "You may call me... Hlekkur."

Tingle hesitated a moment. This man... Hlekkur, he was... he was dark. This was wrong, he could sense it. But, there was genuinity there. He grasped the outstretched hand, power flooding into his body. He felt something break the skin on his back and looked behind him with wide disbelieving eyes.

There, in a dark glittering green, was a pair of fairy wings. He looked back towards Hlekkur. "I will follow you until the day I die."

Hlekkur chuckled. "I will look forward to it, my little fairy."