Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild. Spoilers for main story points including the end of the game. All titles are lyrics borrowed from Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence."
Chapter 1: Words Like Silent Raindrops
"Hello, Link."
His breath caught in his throat at the gentle, familiar voice, and his heart began to race as his eyes slowly swept around the room, looking for its owner. Mipha. Maybe Mipha was still...
"Because of your courage, my spirit is now free."
The excitement and optimism that he'd allowed to course through him since he had reached Zora's Domain had propelled him this far, but at the princess' words, his feet seemed as if turned to lead, and a cold pit quietly opened inside of him, sucking his hopes down into its depths. Almost as mechanically as the Divine Beast in which he now stood, he turned to face an ethereal, blue light glowing several feet away. And in the midst of it, as if manifesting from the air itself, was Mipha.
Her grateful yet sad smile would have been more than enough to confirm his dread, but still Link found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her translucent body as her feet gracefully tread upon the surface of the water, her use of the word "spirit" to describe herself echoing throughout the emptiness inside of him. It wasn't as if he could not have predicted this outcome. King Rhoam himself had told him of the other Champions' fate, and the hints had been in Mipha's guidance through the beast all along. But he had foolishly allowed her family's words to lead him to believe otherwise. After all, a Zora could live for hundreds of years; if any Champion were still alive, it would be her.
But as he should have known from the beginning, she was not. She had been dead for a hundred years while he slept and forgot everything. Had his memories stayed buried, perhaps he would not be feeling so hollow as she spoke to him of a healing power that was now useless to her. Perhaps he would be able to see her as a fallen warrior with one last task instead of feeling the stinging loneliness of the loss of a close friend. But as she gifted to him a precious piece of herself, he could feel her warmth and kindness settle inside of him, causing his heart to ache and mourn all the more.
Keeping all traces of his grief hidden, Link returned to King Dorephan to report his daughter's fate only to be met with praise, gratitude, and even elders asking to be pardoned for their earlier harsh treatment of him. The pomp flew by in a blur as the multitude of Zora now crowded into the throne room cheered, and Prince Sidon vigorously shook his hand. Link's mood was slowly lightening, the celebration infectious, until he found himself alone with the king, a beautifully crafted trident resting in his hands.
"It was cherished by Mipha. I would like you to have it."
His grip on the weapon was so tight that his hands began to shake. Quickly putting it away, he steeled his emotions once more and thanked the king for his generous gift, promising to use it to honor Mipha's memory and put an end to Calamity Ganon.
The king's smile mirrored the one his daughter wore only a short time ago, and as the Hylian bowed and turned to leave, King Dorephan's parting words, too, matched that of Mipha.
"Save her, Link. Save Princess Zelda."
The moon hung high in the night sky as Link pushed open the door to his residence in Hateno Village with a long creak. Shuffling one foot in front of the other, he slowly closed the door behind him before depositing his gear on the table until only the Lightscale Trident remained. Tenderly running his fingers along the handle, he stood in the dim light, hazy memories of the beautiful, young Zora replaying in his mind, until he at last closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and carried it to the far wall. Reaching up, he carefully mounted the trident on a weapon display, stepped back, and gave a reverent bow before trudging toward the stairs leading to the loft. His clothes were discarded heartlessly on the way to his bed, and with a tiredness he hadn't felt since first reviving, he flopped onto the soft mattress and buried his face in his pillow.
But as physically and emotionally exhausted as he was, the bliss of sleep fled from him. The events of the day circled over and over in his mind, carrying with them fearful visions of what was likely in store for him during and at the conclusion of his quest.
When he had awoken only a few weeks ago, he had no recollection of what had happened to him, the fate of the kingdom of Hyrule, or even who the mysterious voice that guided him belonged to. But still he had felt an innate sense of duty and honor in carrying out the task put upon him by King Rhoam and who he now knew to be Princess Zelda. Even if he had failed in the past, having no memory of it had assured his confidence in himself remained strong. Perhaps he had not been to blame. Perhaps after one hundred years the opponent had weakened. And so he had taken on the role of Champion with vigor and purpose, ready to do whatever need be done in order to defeat evil and help the princess.
This, however, was before his memories began to return.
Talking with Impa and realizing it might be possible to recover knowledge of at least a bit of his life prior to his hundred year sleep, he had immediately gone in search of the locations in the photos on his Sheikah Slate. It hadn't taken him long before he reached an archway on the road to Mount Lanayru that at last clawed at the cobwebs in the corners of his memory, and suddenly it was as if he were standing right there amongst the other Champions and Zelda herself. Their names were still largely a mystery, but each of their faces and mannerisms felt familiar and not at all like the strangers they currently were to him. It was an unsettling feeling, made all the moreso by the somber mood of the princess and the rise of Calamity Ganon himself in the distance.
But still the memory had affected him little. He could now picture everyone from his past that Impa had talked to him about, but aside from a vague ache in his chest at the thought of Princess Zelda's hopeless gaze and hollow voice, his feelings about his quest had not changed. No, it wasn't until he stumbled upon Zora's Domain and found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the delicately crafted statue of their princess and Champion that his old life began to haunt him. Standing there among a people who recognized him, knew him, in a place he must have visited many times before, it was as if the floodgates were finally creeping open.
Mipha.
Her name was Mipha. And she had not only been his ally, but a close friend, someone he had turned to time and time again when he was wounded in battle or just plain reckless. Various memories of their days spent together washed over him, some as clear as if she were at his side with that shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
And suddenly everything changed. He was not fighting to avenge a nameless fallen warrior, he was desperately hoping to save a companion. Except there had been nothing to save, not in the sense he had allowed himself to hope for, anyway. And as he lay in bed with visions of the deceased princess dancing along his closed eyelids, a few happy memories but most imagined and grotesque scenarios surrounding her demise, at last his forced mask of strength and calm started to crack.
He was a knight. It was not his job to feel. It was his job to protect the kingdom, the princess, and show no trace of hesitation as he swung his sword. Everyone was depending on him, and for that reason he must always outwardly remain strong, a pillar of confidence and control.
But in the late hours of the night in a dimly lit house that he shared with no one but his thoughts, his eyes began to sting as his breathing hitched, and it wasn't long before violent sobs wracked his body.
It was strange. While a part of him was certainly mourning the loss of Mipha, the sadness he felt went deeper than that. Perhaps he could not remember the other Champions now, but he knew, Link knew that as more of his memory returned, these same feelings and events would be repeated in a vicious cycle until he was whole, the spirits trapped for a hundred years were freed, and Ganon was destroyed. Piece by piece he would regain his old self, and as this happened, the scab hiding the wounded heart he wasn't even aware existed until a few days ago would slowly be picked away, leaving behind a gaping hole, sore and bleeding.
He did mourn for Mipha; the two of them had been close long before she had been named a Champion. But he mourned for himself as well, a warrior who could only continue moving forward as quickly as possible as Princess Zelda's hold on Ganon grew ever weaker. This while having to burden these feelings of loss fresh and anew several more times before he could truly rest and try to mend the blood-stained hole in his heart, a hole in the shape of four courageous individuals.
No, not four.
Four would be a hopeful estimate. Four would mean that there was still someone left he had a chance to save. Four would imply that somehow, inexplicably, Princess Zelda, born a Hylian with a lifespan that paled in comparison to the Zora, was still alive after all these years, her voice sounding in his head now exactly as it did in the lone memory of her he had regained so far.
No, it couldn't be only four. After his hopes of returning Mipha to her family were cruelly shattered, he would not allow himself to be so naive again. Princess Zelda's spirit may still be fighting yet, but that was all that was left of her. Just like the other Champions, her body lay dead and rotting in the place she died one hundred years ago. When all was said and done, he would be grieving the loss of not four but five companions.
The morning rays of the sun were peeking through his window before Link's cheeks grew dry, and as his body stilled and his chest stopped heaving, at last the grip of sleep pulled him into its depths. It seemed only mere moments later that he was peeling his eyes open to the sight of the room darkened once again. He had slept the entire day away, and yet his limbs still ached as if he had just crawled into bed. It was so tempting to simply continue to lie there, waiting for morning yet again before continuing his journey.
A long sigh passed his lips. No. He had wasted too much time already. The day for grieving would come, but for now this one night, one day of mourning was the only reprieve he would allow himself. With every new piece of his memory recovered, he would hold it in and squash it down, even if it meant allowing the heartache to fester for weeks on end. Because it was his duty, and he would keep the princess' spirit waiting no longer on account of his weakness.
As he crawled out of his bed and grabbed his clothes, his mind toyed with the idea of ignoring Impa's suggestion of hunting down the locations in the photos. Some memories would still likely return on their own, but perhaps now wasn't the best time to revisit the past. The idea was quickly dismissed, however. As painful as he knew it would be, he refused to free the Champions' spirits and offer up a final goodbye without as much of his former knowledge of who they were as an individual and what they meant to him as possible. Perhaps it would make his journey easier, but it would be cowardly and unfair of him to face them as a stranger.
His mind solemnly made up, he gathered his gear and replaced his knight's mask of stoic confidence. The tightness in his chest refused to be left behind, but he in turn refused to acknowledge it. He had shed all the tears he would allow. There were people waiting for him, counting on him, and he would carry out his duty.
A/N: Originally planned as a one shot, this has taken on a life of its own and is now likely to be about five chapters. All I can say is that this game really felt alive, and I wanted to give my thoughts during my time as Link a voice. A huge thank you to everyone who put their playthroughs of this game up online; while I had finished the game myself, it was very useful for the times I wanted to check exact dialogue without having to replay the entire thing.
Thanks for reading, and as always, critics and grammar police are appreciated!