Log Eight-Hundred and Thirty-Four

The term "impossible decision" never seemed to strike me until now. I have the lives of an entire nation on my shoulders, but that doesn't mean what saves them is the right thing to do. Or is it? I don't know. Even if it is, how could I do it?

Perhaps "selfish" is the word I'm looking for.

Maybe I could do it. But live with myself after is something I couldn't do. But I'd surely kill myself if I didn't. How is it that life stops being simple after you come of age? How is it that our voice drops, we grow a few inches, and from then on there's no good or bad, right or wrong, no way for that happily ever after you'd always heard about? Maybe there is a way, but that way just isn't for me.

This must be how he has felt this entire time…

I have a decision to make.

Goddesses, help me…

…Anyone… help me…

Log One

How do you start a fresh journal? I thought of using this perhaps for writing one of my reports on the Hero… but… the time doesn't feel right for another one of those. Not quite sure why, though. Something has felt very off lately, something about everything. It's as though something big is coming. I can't put my finger on it, but it's in the air like the heat before a cold front.

Then again, this is how I felt when the liquor store in Kakariko opened, and everything has been just fine since then.

Hmm.

Ah, I'm so absent minded today that I forgot to introduce myself!

If you find this journal, please return it to Sarkis J. Finch.

A while back I was a soldier under the King's Forces, and was later promoted to being the bodyguard and mentor to the young Prince of Hyrule. Now I work as the head Inspector under the Royal Family of Hyrule, picking up crime investigations here and there. It's mostly paperwork, however.

I have much darker skin than most citizens of Hyrule; my hair is dark as well. I'm usually sporting a beard and my eyes are light blue. I'm very tall and more often than not you can find me wearing a formal vest with a tattered light blue tie.

My living quarters are in the castle, for my own safety I shall not say which wing or floor, but every soldier knows my name and will certainly return to me whatever is lost.

Thank you.

Listen to me, I sound like I'm writing some sort of letter. It's easy to forget how to write casually after so many reports.

Log Two

I wouldn't mind if someone hired a new chef.

Log Three

A few weeks has gone by since I purchased this journal and I still have a hard time writing in it. There has been so many nights that I have the pen in hand, but I just can't put it down to the paper…

I have the words to say… but I don't have the courage to say them… It's kind of funny. You'd think a former soldier would be brave all around.

It's raining heavy tonight.

Log Four

I don't want to sleep tonight. I'm afraid I'll dream of the Prince again.

There are some nights when I wonder if he is looking down on me. It's been a few years, and he's in a better place, I know. But it rains whenever I think of him. I just wish I could have said goodbye. Is that selfish? It feels like I'm saying "I" too much.

I'm too drunk to write tonight. I'll try again tomorrow.

Log Five

Good news and bad news. The good news is that we're hiring a new chef. The bad news is her Highness Princess Zelda got food poisoning.

Log Six

Her Highness Princess Zelda saved me a lot of trouble today. Princess Corona would not leave me alone, as per the usual. She wouldn't stop hugging my arm and complimenting silly things like my beard and posture and how my tie is the same shade as my eyes. She even asked me out to dinner again. She wouldn't stop no matter how many times I kept telling her "No," and "I'm busy," which was no lie.

I have an important case coming up. An entire village just outside Hyrule borders has been completely flattened. The King's forces have retrieved one survivor, but he hasn't woken in days.

You could say that since the village is outside Hyrule borders that it is out of my jurisdiction. However, the King has so kindly bent the law just enough for me to investigate, so I need to return the favor by making this the most successful case of my career.

It would be so much easier if I had some peace and quiet in my private study. You'd think my PRIVATE study room would be treated as my PRIVATE study room. But I suppose nothing is private for her Highness Princess Corona. Well, sort of. I suppose she never seems to flirt with the other guards. She treats them sort of coldly, now that I think of it. Why just me?

Anyway, it wasn't until her Highness Princess Zelda offered Princess Corona a chance to test one of the Applicant Chef's dishes, which she said was beyond compare, that she unglued Corona from my arm. Zelda smiled back at me as they left, I think she knew of my… well, I wouldn't say, "dislike" of Corona, but I could stand seeing her a bit less often around the castle. She makes my arm sore.

I know Princess Corona has eyes for me. Every time I look in hers it sends shivers down my spine, the way she looks at me. But don't misread me, I'd never return those sort of feelings. Dating is the least of my desires right now, not to mention I'm twice her age. Even if she were my age it would never happen.

You'd never think Zelda and Corona were related, as distant as the relation might be, in terms of looks and personality. While Zelda has grown her blond hair long and natural, Corona's hair is a dark brown, which she almost always keeps in a messy bun. Zelda has this natural beauty about her, which I'm sure Princess Corona has as well, but I don't know if she is convinced. She keeps herself covered in makeup, dying her skin white with powder and blush. She paints thick, black eyeliner and eye shadow that makes her eyes as sharp and stunning as a demon's and blood red lipstick.

While Zelda keeps herself kind and decent, Corona can be… well… rather outgoing. There's nothing wrong with being as outgoing as Corona is, don't get me wrong, but it always is directed towards me, and frankly I've had it!

Princess Corona… she used to be the most adorable little girl. Then puberty hit and suddenly she's this completely different person. How I miss the way it used to be. Why hasn't she gotten the idea that I still see her as a child?

Log Seven

The survivor finally woke. He's been staying in one of the nicest rooms we have in the castle, full of marble and natural light that shines soft through the windows. I came by to visit, asked his name, but he won't speak. I tried my best, but he only sits on the edge of his bed and watches the light float down from his window. He won't look at me; his eyes won't even budge. I wonder if he could even hear what I say…

"How are you feeling?" I'd ask, "Would you like to try the chicken noodle soup in the dining hall? It's a new recipe."

Nothing. I could hardly hear him breathe.

I said, "Sleep well last night?" As though I was talking to myself. But I did stick around long enough to hear him sigh, so that was something. It was more of a heavy breath, though.

He's somewhat of a handsome boy, fairly tall with dark brown hair and dark skin, though not as dark as mine. It's more of a reddish copper than brown. But his eyes, they were dark and lost, almost black. I can't help but feel bad for the boy. He's probably around Corona's age, sixteen or seventeen. And to go through what he did, see what he saw…

After an hour of trying to get some sort of response from him, I turned to leave, wondering what the point of it was.

"You'd think the boy had his soul sucked out of him," I said to the nurse by the door.

"You'd think," she whispered, "But I heard him crying last night,"

I don't know if I should let him know of my trip to investigate the village ruins or not. Perhaps it's too soon. Nothing can be as frightening as a reminder of how cruel your reality is. I suppose I should know that by now…

Then again, he would be the perfect tool to unraveling the mystery to the case. Who flattened the village? It clearly wasn't a natural disaster since the only reported damage was against the village and nothing of the surrounding area. Someone did this on purpose, some heartless monster. Perhaps a gang of moblins did it. That is the first guess of most people. However, I get the premonition of something else. That feeling is back, the warmth before the cold.

I've also been given another case; though not nearly as monumental, nothing but a simple theft report. The culprit has already been pointed out, the daughter of the dairy rancher. What was her name again? Ma-something… Malo, Mavy, Marin… it was something like that.

This case should be a snap. I'll get it wrapped up by tonight.

Log Eight

As I said before, the case was a snap, more or less. You could say there were a few complications of a personal matter, though.

Just as the Liquor Store employee had said, Malon, as I've remembered her name as, did in fact have the reported wallet.

As soon as I showed my badge and search warrant of their property, Malon let me right in. She seemed warm and showed no signs of guilt or fear, saying that I could search the entire premise if necessary.

"I have nothing to hide," she smiled.

I had planned to question the dairy rancher himself, but he had been infected by the plague, the same sickness that took the late Prince. I hadn't known this when I agreed to take the case.

He still lives, which is extraordinary considering how long he's been sick. However, he can no longer walk without the aid of a cane and seems to have a constant dry cough. Needless to say, he'll be out of work for… I'd say "quite some time" but I there's no cure for the plague, so he's out of work for the rest of his life. However long that may be.

The plague seemed to have wiped out the majority of the animals, so between taxes, personal expenses, and medical bills for the rancher, money was beyond tight for them, which is why Malon took up the job in the liquor store as a wine presser, and would explain why she stole the wallet.

It was found in the stable, hiding on a cart Malon said she rode to and from work in Kakariko. In the back was a homemade purple blanket, thick and warm. I lifted it, and found no surprise to see the wallet hiding beneath.

However, Malon did.

That was much too easy of a job. You'd think she wanted to get caught.

"It matches the description," I observed the green and yellow stitch pattern of the wallet as I opened the top. There were fifteen rupees inside, one yellow and one blue.

I looked over to Malon, her eyes wide and mouth agape.

She stuttered, "I-I swear I've never seen that before in my life!"

I sighed, "If I had half a rupee for every time I heard that." I stared her down in a moment of tension, both of us knowing exactly what was coming next.

"Please," Malon's voice dropped softly, "You have to believe me."

"It's best to save your breath," I presented a pair of handcuffs, which repelled the girl like water to a cat.

She backed up until her back reached a wooden beam, "Don't, please," she spoke a bit louder, but just as sincerely, "My father is sick but I would never- Yes, I know we're hurting for money, but it wasn't me! If I was a thief don't you think I'd aim for richer targets?"

"And how would that reasoning explain the fact that the wallet was in your cart?"

Malon was stunned, having nothing to say.

Riding across Hyrule Field tonight, I looked to her in the rear of the covered wagon. Her back was turned to me, but I should see her shoulders shake. Silent tears.

I had to say something, "Prison isn't so bad. It's no picnic, but it won't kill you."

Her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs and buried her face in her work-worn purple skirt, "My dad," she whispered through the tears, "What will he do without me there?"

I brought her in to the castle prison tonight.

I wish I didn't know how she felt.

Log Nine

The world seems brighter and yet somehow darker ever since the Gerudo King Ganondorf was executed. Other than the plague that ran through a few years ago, natural disasters have dropped dead, but social disasters are on the up rise, building like bubbles on a stove.

It has been so long since I've felt like a hero. Not since the little Hero himself left on the mission Zelda gave him six years ago. Tonight was a testament to that. I may be the Inspector, but I've never felt more like a criminal giving Malon that tiny jail cell. But it was all we had left since the other cells are occupied.

But the fact that I executed another convict today was what pulled the trigger. He had been arrested for arson and had been in prison for at least ten years now. He attempted escape. He should know better, there's no escaping the Castle Prison without being caught.

Executions are public. For citizens it's optional to watch, but for convicts it's required. It's been about three years since my last execution, so I thought I'd be a little rusty. But I was surprised to see the feeling was as fresh as ever.

I hate the smell afterward, the smell of burnt flesh.

I saw Zelda in the castle halls later. Even she seemed sad when she looked at me. How does she always know how I feel? Perhaps that's just how the women of the main royal family branch are. I heard her mother was the same exact way.

Maybe she just noticed the rain.

Log Ten

Malon seemed to ease in to prison life much better after I let her know of the medical specialists I sent to look after her father at the ranch.

Log Eleven

Things are starting to look up!

In my private study this noon I was eating my lunch over some books when I heard a knock at the door. Gazing forward, my food dropped out of my mouth when I saw that it was the survivor at my door. He didn't look up, staring only at his feet as though they had faces and spoke something quieter than a church mouse.

"What?" I set my food down.

He turned his back to me, preparing to close the doors behind him, "I'm going," and he left.

I attempted to speak through the door, "To the ruins?"

No response. I'll take that as a yes.

We'll be leaving tomorrow morning.

Log Twelve

Just as things were starting to look up, Gaede of all people just had to come along. I try not to be judgmental, but there are few things about this guy that I can tolerate. The way he keeps his silver hair unkempt, as though he's never even run his fingers through, the way his red eyes pierce through his enemies until they quake while mine give only a sense of calm, his sarcastic smiles and aloof aura. Impa would be a much better companion in this journey, but she refuses to leave Zelda's side.

Don't get me wrong, he's a brilliant man and an outstanding Sheikah, but you could say he and I have some negative history together.

Employed by the Royal Family at about the same time, he replaced the King's bodyguard who had passed in battle while I was assigned as the Prince's mentor at the moment of his birth. I saw Gaede as my rival from the very start, but in a much more pleasant light. I looked up to him; saw a bit of myself in him. We were both quiet, though he seemed to be more lighthearted than I. Every day we would cross paths in the halls and as I watched him go I felt as though he was hiding some trouble within himself, that even though he smiled when I frowned, I sensed we had been through the same tragedies and suffered the same amount of days.

I wanted to be like him, so I challenged him.

If he were walking through the halls, I would walk faster. If he was eating lunch I would finish mine first. He got a good look of my back, but it didn't take long for him to catch on.

Within weeks we were racing, every second our paths crossed became wordless competition. My limit was reached every day because I had to push myself so hard to match his natural talent. I could never walk faster, lift more, complete tasks faster, be praised more, but every strain was worth knowing I was good enough to be acknowledged by the Sheikah.

Those were the days before I started drinking, the days I had the Prince by my side. Those were the times that Gaede was some strange cross between a hero, acquaintance, friend, and a role model.

I could never reach him. But that was OK, because I had something he didn't. A time came when he tried to take it from me, and the competition between us sparked cold as though there was a wall of burning ice between us. She was the one thing that chose me; saw me as good enough even though I was not. While I knew that was how it would always be I was afraid that Gaede would pass me and win at any second like he always did. His pursuit never ended, winning every battle but the war was mine, and in Gaede's desire for her, his hatred for me reflected my hate for him.

But now she's gone, gone forever. The plague took my wife, and with her the chance of any friendship between Gaede and me withered.

Goddesses, please, I know there's hardly any time left before the trip, but please send someone else, anyone but this guy!

I need a drink.