Soooooooo... Yeah. Some people who follow me are probably wondering what unholy demon possessed to start yet another story. That demon would be called the diabolical plot bunny and it has been tormenting me for months on end. Please understand that I have tried with every fiber of my being to ignore it, to push it away- I even considered calling a priest, but to no avail. I lost the battle and have been forced to write this here prologue for you. Please forgive me, but I couldn't handle this plot bunny tormenting my poor soul any longer.

This is actually A story I posted on here a super long time ago when my writing was horrible, but only got about three chapters in because of reasons I don't even care to remember. Reading it was absolute torture, but the plot I had with it still sounded promising and reawakened a spark inside me. So I decided to delete, HEAVILY edit, rewrite, and re-upload. Hopefully, this time things will turn out much better!

This will be a Link/OC story, as well as a girl from our world gets dumped into Hyrule story which I know many readers must be tired of and dislike. This is my own take on it and I'm adding my own twists and turns that I'm hoping at least a few people will appreciate. I should also warn that the updates may be slow because I have so many other projects happening right now, so please bare with me.

If you DON'T like any of the things that I have stated above, then please DON'T read this fic instead of reading and sending me flaming reviews. I have had enough of them come my way and unless they contain something constructive, they will be ignored. But, if you do like these things, then PLEASE read on and PLEASE leave a review. Tell me if you're interested and is you think this is worth continuing.

Read On!

For as long as I can remember I have had the same recurring dream.

I never see the beginning, nor the end. I am always somewhere in the middle of time, never knowing exactly how this nightmare started or how it will conclude. I am surrounded by burning buildings in the night. The sound of broken homes and screams of horror fill my ears. Out of the corners of my eyes I see angry flames consuming helpless victims, filling the air with the smell of burnt flesh. Smoke is filling my lungs, and tears well in my eyes from the sting. (What is this horrible place?) I stumble around, the grounds sharp pebbles digging into my bare feet painfully, but the pain hardly registers in my frantic mind as I run. There is so much terror coursing through my veins, so much pain and panic, but these feelings are not for my own life. No, they're for the small life in my hands. Suddenly, the weight in my arms becomes too much and I collapse from exhaustion. My feelings unspeakable fear are for the unconscious, bleeding child in my arms- a young boy who looks no older than eight years of age. He is so close to death.

(Who is he?)

I cradle him in my arms, trying to protect him from the raging war around us. I try to whisper comforts and sweet nothings over the chaos surrounding us, though I know they fall upon deaf ears. I can't let him die. He is too precious, too innocent to suffer the way he is.

Though many would disagree, my life isn't even worth a fraction of his in my eyes. How could I have let this happen?

I can never figure out why, but in this dream I would give anything for this peculiar boy. He means so much to me, more than my life. I lift my small hand to stroke his bruised and bleeding face, brushing the singed and blackened strands of hair out of his eyes.

"Please don't leave me," I whisper hoarsely while rocking us back and forth, "Stay here. I will protect you. I promise... I promise..." My voice sounds so exhausted and raspy from the smoke, but still young; a child's voice.

He's fading, fading fast. I cry out and desperately shake his fragile body, but he to no avail. His eyes do not open (I wonder what color they are) and his breathing remains shallow. Sobs are escaping my body by now, the anguish in my chest becoming unbearable. (Why?)

He is too close to death, no ordinary medicine could save him now. But there is one thing, one extraordinary thing (What?). A last resort, but he is worth it. He is worth every thing I could lose, every bit of pain I will receive for doing such a thing. I am exhausted, a unfamiliar sensation that I have felt so few times in my time. All my body wants to do I collapse but no, I push it back and remind myself that this is for him. I am willing to give anything to him.

Even my life.

(Why?)

Suddenly, a brilliant flash of light shines through the devastation. It's so bright, so powerful that I have to look away, further cradling the boy into me as I bury my face into his hair. After a few moments of silence I look up to see three beautiful women standing before me. Familiarity fills me and my eyes widen with recognition. (How could I know these women?). Beautiful is an unfair word to describe these goddesses. They look so different from each other, but I know they are sisters. Such relief fills me at the sight of their heavenly forms because they're here, they've come to save us! I almost smile. I open my mouth to ask them, to beg them to help me save this precious boy. But with one look at their faces, that relieving moment is over.

I look to the first one hopefully, pleading with my eyes for her to understand, but her eyes only reflect disappointment, like a mother whose child has gone astray. I can see such sorrow in her startling blue eyes, and one tear escapes them. It travels slowly down her ebony cheek before landing on her chest, staining the blue dress she wears. I am startled. She rarely shows emotion like this. I have broken her seemingly unbreakable heart.

(Who is she?)

Betrayal and hurt are etched into the face of the second woman. Her delicate eyebrows furrow together and her green eyes are brimming with tears, so unlike the lively and beautiful woman she is. I've let her down the most, I know it. I have broken a precious promise to a dear friend. She looks away from me, shielding her face behind her long silky hair. Such shame fills me. I reach out, trying to touch the hem of her green gown and beg forgiveness, but she is quick to avoid my touch.

"Please," I beg, but her eyes never return to me.

(How do I know this woman?)

I can't to look at her any longer so I turn away, the guilt proving too much for me to bare.

I look to the last woman before me, hoping in vain that she will help me, but looking at her manifests different feelings with me; feelings of apprehension, hurt, anger, betrayal.

All of my hope diminishes.

She looks at me with so much hate, so much anger burning in her amber eyes, I can't even begin to explain the fear that suddenly courses through my veins. Her very being exudes power, dominance, and seductive beauty, qualities that I could never hope to match. She shakes her head slowly, causing her wild red hair to sway and resemble the fire that still rages around us. I feel so powerless next to her, so weak and broken. I am nothing next to her.

(Why does she hate me?)

"What have you done, Axel?" She asks quietly and slowly. Her is deep and low, yet every syllable is laced with unbridled fury.

"...What have you done?"

I know it's not much, but I have some pretty big ideas for this story! Tell me what you like, don't like and what I could improve on. I honestly can't say enough how much your feedback means to me. It always helps and encourages me to become a better writer.

Thank you for reading! :)

-IAmTheStars

I don't own LOZ.