Title: I do have faith in you.
Summary: Sheik's thought's on Zelda, the state of the world and that person dubbed the Hero of Time whilst he sits around in the Temple of Time waiting for Link to finish his seven year nap.
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters, that's the lovely eccentric people at Rare Ware and those equally wonderful people over at Nintendo.
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I lay spreadeagled on the smooth stone floor of the pedestal chamber in the Temple of Time watching the dust particles dancing in the sunlight that streamed through the single, clear-paned window situated in the wall above me. The light illuminated the hexagonal raised platform in the center of the room, spotlighting the small stone block that used to hold the Master Sword; the blade that was forged as the key to the sacred realm and the only sword capable of destroying evil. The sword that would defeat Ganondorf and end his tyrannical reign.
Too bad the guy that was supposed to wield it was currently under enforced sleeping arrangements in the Triforce's former resting place. No offense to him or anything, but since he was designated hero and all, he d better hope his seven year hibernation resulted in some form of non-detrimental insomnia cause I think I speak for all of Hyrule when I say we re bloody sick of the current dictatorship and would really appreciate it ending in the shortest amount of time possible.
I couldn't believe Zelda was making me, of all people, go play messenger for the poor bloke. I was under the impression that the reason she even contemplated taking self defense classes was not just to render me limbless and string me across death mountain crater. Why would she stick me with something so important?
Maybe it was just a sympathy gig for the little half breed Shieka, or maybe it was Impa's way of apologising for ditching me in favor of her duties for the first nine years of my life. Whichever, I think I would've preferred not to have the privilege.
So what if I get to meet the Hero of Time . I didn't really see what the big deal was. To tell you the truth I was already completely sick of it.
The amount of times I've heard Zelda going on and on about Link; the Kokiri boy....
Personally I thought he was plain stupid. What idiot follows the instructions of an eight year old girl when it concerns something as important as the Spiritual Stones and the Triforce.
An isolated fairy boy, that s who.
I couldn't believe that Impa let herself get involved. How could she hold that much faith in a child's prophecy? To go against her King? How could Zelda still stand by her actions after all the turmoil, devastation and ruin they managed to spawn? Why couldn't she just flat out say she s fixing her mistakes instead of pretending to save the world? Why couldn't she just grow a brain?
Sometimes I wished I wasn't privy to the whole deal. That way I wouldn't end up torturing myself with such things as Hyrule's savior being part of its downfall in the first place. I wouldn't feel like I was lying every time I comforted my best friend Cor when we visited the graves of his family. The Redeads I'd killed on the way here wouldn't have previously been unassuming citizens. Justice wouldn't mean stilling the heart beat of the girl in the adjoining bedroom of my house.
Age was her only excuse. I could forgive her for that.
I let my eyes drift upwards to the very peak of the ceiling and concentrated on the gentle throb that seemed to emanate from the very stone of the temple, trying to rid my mind of thoughts I really had no desire to be thinking.
It would be over soon. The hero would come, kill the bad guy, save the day and I could go back to my village and concentrate on raising my cuccoos and training to take my place in life as protector of the royal family. I just hoped Zelda s heir was male. I don t think I could stand looking after a little girl. It would remind me too much of her.
Shivering slightly, I glanced at the lights trajectory across the floor aware that it was beginning to get late and that the damn Redeads not to mention Ganondorf's minions and the less savory members of society would probably be out running around the streets and half demolished buildings of Hyrule Castle Town making it just that tad more difficult to get away uninjured and alive.
If only the temple weren't so cold. Then I could set myself up with some food, water, a blanket and my harp and spend all my time sitting here going loopy. It d be a relief to be out of Zelda s company for one thing, although she d probably start sending messages straight to my head again. At least when she knew there was going to be a daily update she wouldn't pester me so much for information. She liked to know of anything happening in Hyrule. Anything I could tell her that might indicate some flaw in Ganondorf's own private heaven. Anything that might give us some sort of edge when the Hero arrived and started putting things right. She wanted to know about it.
I still don t understand how she can hold such hope; how she could wait for him and believe he would win. It was a mystery to me and she was keeping her secret.
I wish I didn't have to believe in her.
Curiously enough though, I did. I didn't have a logical reason for it but it made me happier to know that someone was trying to get Hyrule back to normal.
I d just about convinced myself to get up off the floor and attempt to exit Hyrule Castle Town when suddenly, a streak of blue light shot down from the ceiling directly into the pedestal in the center of the room. I rolled towards the steps as the streak turned into a beam, then widened into a column of light that covered the entire raised platform.
Squinting my eyes, I peered over the edge of the step to observe the silhouette of a boy shimmer into existence. It took me only a moment to discern what was going on, but as the light dissipated and I noticed he wasn't really a boy, but a young man swathed in green and white with long lanky limbs and golden yellow hair, my breath caught in my throat.
He'd finally come back.
I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face as I watched him study himself. He raised his gauntleted hands, moving his fingers, pulling at his clothes, kicking his booted feet against the stone floor. He looked about himself somewhat dazedly, flicking his fringe out of his eyes and turning towards the exit.
Then a small blue flairy zipped out of the light and whipped up under his hat as he trotted down the stairs and I realised I wasn't supposed to be sitting on the floor staring at him; I had a job to do.