"Beneath the stains of time the feelings disappear,
You are someone else, I am still right here.
What have I become? My sweetest friend,
Everyone I know goes away in the end,
You could have it all, my empire of dirt.
I will let you down, I will make you hurt.
If I could start again a million miles away,
I would keep myself, I would find a way."
Hurt – Nine Inch Nails
Chapter 1 – Almost Home
"Shh," she presses a thin, milky-white finger to my lips, straightening slightly and listening intently, "Did you hear something?"
I shake my head, smiling fondly at the sight of her long red hair, cascading, shimmering down her bare back.
"Must have been my imagination," she sighs, turning to face me again and laying down, leaning on her elbow.
I lie still and silent as she walks her fingers idly up and down my chest. She smiles when I pull her in closer and nuzzle her head in the nook between my shoulder and neck.
"I wish you didn't have to vanish so often," she says quietly, twisting my hair between her fingers.
I don't answer; there's nothing I can say. Instead I just squeeze her gently and kiss her forehead.
We lie for quite some time, neither of us speaking or moving, watching the sky change from deep dark blue to a dusky shade of green as the sun slowly rises, it can't be more than half past four in the morning.
Suddenly there is a knock on the door downstairs.
"Someone's an early riser," she comments as she hops gracefully out of bed, walks over to the small wardrobe and pulls on a thin, pale yellow robe.
I watch sleepily, taking in the way that the casual tie accentuates her delicate curves as she gathers her hair and pins it into place at the base of her neck.
As she leaves the room and descends down the stairs, I pull myself into a sitting position and listen as she answers the door brightly.
"Good morning, how can I he-"she is cut off and there are sounds of a struggle. I hear her scream carry up the stairs.
Without thinking I grab my sword and jump down the steps.
I see her writhe and fight against the two dark figures who have her pinned against the stable wall, but before I can reach the door a third person slams it shut, barricading me inside.
I wake with a start, drenched in sweat, lying at the back of a small, dusty cave. Sitting up, I run my hand down my face and attempt to will my eyes out of their relentless heaviness. The dim light from the cave mouth makes it difficult to see while I squint around for my belongings. As I begin the arduous task of sharpening my sword my mind drifts back to my dream.
Well, not really a dream, it's a memory. How it haunts me. At least once a week without fail I am awoken by it. Even though in a sense I did save Malon, when I replaced the Master Sword into the Temple of Time I reversed everything that had happened in those seven horrific, bewildering years.
She doesn't remember being kidnapped from under my very nose, being used as bait by Ganondorf's minions or beaten to a bloody pulp and used for Goddesses knows what else. She doesn't have to recall in her dreams the state that I discovered her in when I finally saved her. Shit, she doesn't even remember me. I'm nothing more to her now than the little 'fairy boy' who bought her favourite horse... oh about, eight (nine? ten?) years ago.
And then I set off on my next 'great adventure'. No real good came of it, surprise, surprise. So I saved another weird land from destruction, a bizarre Hyrule mimicking land where I was only reminded of my many mistakes by the people who seemed just like those I remembered but had forgotten me. Especially Romani and Cremia. My heart ached at the sight of them.
I was forced to relive those same three days over and over and over. Every time I fucked up I had to go back and start again. Hell, I'm not even sure how old I am any more, not after going back and forth in time so often. Physically, I think I'm about nineteen, maybe twenty. Mentally, now that's a whole different matter. When I think of the time I spent I Hyrule and Termina, including all the times I had to start again, it's unfathomable.
My mind continues to wander and I wonder if anyone remembers me at all. The Kokiri would, obviously as I spent me childhood with them, those years were never erased. Zelda? Perhaps. The other Sages? I'm not sure, it's possible. All of the countless people I saved, the whole of Hyrule. They haven't a clue who I am, and yet they owe me their lives. They owe me gratitude. They owe me awe.
I stop sharpening my sword and frown, disgusted at such a selfish and egotistical thought.
I have no place feeling sorry for my self, I did my duty and fulfilled my destiny. Even if it did leave me a twisted shell of person, full of bloodlust and hatred.
Forcefully I push such negative thoughts from my mind and concentrate on the task at hand. It's so tedious having to sharpen my sword so often, I never had that problem with the Master Sword, but beggars can't be choosers, and my Kokiri dagger had quickly gotten too small. I have to make do.
I gather my things together and stand just inside the mouth of the cave looking out over Lake Hylia as the sun slowly rises in the distance. An involuntary shudder runs down my spine as I glance at the location of the Water Temple.
I compulsively check that my Ocarina is safe and head out, towards the field.
I am almost home.
