Growth
Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda, and I'm not making any money off of this
Washing of any sort became unbearable.
Link would stare at the water, nude or clothed, and see the blood on his face, his hands, his chest. It was everywhere, making meandering paths on his skin as it slowly crawled down. In the water, he would see the red float off of him and create a lazy spiral, and he became the axis of horror and violence about which the spiral rotated. He could not escape from the vision even with his eyes closed - he could feel the slippery blood coat him, sticking to his skin like a hungry dog to its meal.
It was impossible to get off.
So he rarely washed anymore. As a result, his hair was covered with dirt and grease, making it nearly brown. His fingernails were blackened with dirt; his face was often smudged.
Link's hand tightened on his sword. The Master Sword lightly hummed in his grip, another reminder of what killing had to be done.
He was sick of it. Sick to death of it, and he would give anything to be a child again, to go back to the time where his biggest worry was Mido and where entering the lost woods was unthinkable. The slightest of whispers brushed his ear.
...Anything...?
"Goddesses, yes!" Link shouted. His voice rose upwards, curving tightly around Ganondorf's castle to reach the darkened skies.
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
"Yes!"
And then it hit him.
Pain crashed through his entire body, leaving white flashes in his vision. It was beyond any pain he had felt before, beyond anything he could have caused himself. Liquid fire splashed in every joint, making him fall to his knees. A thousand fractures cursed every bone. Through cries and tears of agony, Link could swear he saw his hands grow smaller… but that was impossible, wasn't it?
As suddenly as it began, it was over. He felt an ache all over his body and a gnawing sensation that implied hunger. Other than that, nothing seemed to have happened.
Link looked down at his hands. His small, childlike hands, slightly calloused from climbing trees and a short period of time where he wielded the Kokiri's sword. He turned them slowly, disbelieving. How…? Surely he could not have done this – he hadn't been to the Temple of Time, and he doubted that Ganondorf had the power to control time. So how had he become a child?
He stood up to his full height. He was short, much shorter than he remembered. The cavernous opening to the castle was much too large.
Wait.
Castle?
Ganondorf was still alive.
Ganondorf was still alive.
Link wanted to scream or cry. He settled for a mix of both. Ganondorf was still alive! He could hide in the forest… but what was the point? Ganondorf would be there soon anyway. Besides, he couldn't ignore this stupid duty. What about Saria? What about Malon? What about Zelda? Ganondorf had to be stopped – the people had suffered enough. But, he was so tired…
His hands wrapped around the Master Sword, which was cold and dead to his hands. It was too heavy, much too heavy. He struggled to lift it, but found that he could not – he could just barely drag it across the ground. The tip screeched against dark stone floor. The faint, iridescent blue glow about the sword was gone.
Link was no longer an adult. He could not wield the Master Sword. He could not save Hyrule.
Well… he had to try.
Stupid duty.
The tip of the sword scraped on the cement steps, making a discordant sound similar to a raven's death cries. Link struggled up the stairs, fighting hunger, pain, and exhaustion. Sweat constantly matted his hair and dripped into his eyes. When had the sword become so heavy? It was as though it was resisting his pull.
A long walk later, he had reached the throne room of Ganondorf.
Ganondorf chuckled and didn't even dignify Link's childlike appearance with words. All he did was throw a swirling mass of black energy.
Link struggled with the Sword, and made a vain attempt to protect himself. It didn't help – he was still unable to control the Master Sword, which stubbornly rested on the ground.
A sphere of dark energy smashed into his chest and he flew backward, hitting a wall of stained glass. It shattered behind him, scattering shards around him widening rose petals. He flew out of the window, out to the open air. Things suddenly seemed to slow down.
Link scrabbled for purchase, releasing the sword in his panicked attempt. Yet he was unable – he was moving too slow, even in a world moving at half speed. A scream built up inside of him when he noticed that his clumsy, weak fingers missed the inch of glass or rock that he would have been able to grab as an adult.
At the beginning of his rapid descent, Link swore he saw Zelda through the window, in a shining pink crystal. What was Zelda doing up there? She should come down and help him. Why did she look so horrified? She's okay. She'll be fine. She'll be…
Dead.
Link's scream finally tore out of his throat, cutting viciously through stone to reach deaf ears. The freefall wasn't at all like flying – it was more like floating on a blanket of fear and disappointment.
I wish... but that's what got me into this mess, isn't it?
With a sickening thud, Link felt himself hit the ground. The air exploded out of his lungs and his scream stopped short. Pain, pain, pain, pain… how was he still alive? Why was he still alive? Were the goddesses that cruel?
That's what got me into this mess, isn't it?
Link's eyes fluttered open.
He was alive.
He was old.
He felt no pain.
He curled into a shaking, sobbing mess of a ball.
"Navi..."
But all the little fairy could do was rest on his head, and utter words of comfort that did little to fill the void within.