The Lepers

A/n – Yes, the idea is from Jesus Christ Superstar.

A young child had been grievously wounded in a moblin attack on Kakariko Village; he was losing too much blood too fast, and there was nothing the doctors could do for him. That was when the boy—Link, Anju later informed the town—who had killed the moblins entered the room. Wordlessly, Link played a song on a strange blue ocarina.

The townspeople stared in mute shock as the gaping wounds healed themselves, sealing back up neatly. After all the blood was cleaned away, closer inspection showed not the slightest blemish on the youth's soft skin. In fact, if it wasn't for the ghostly pallor of the child's skin, one would never guess he'd been inches from his last breath seconds ago.

Word traveled like wildfire in Hyrule. Within days there were murmurs of the boy—Link, the goddess sent child was named Link—who could heal with a song. Within weeks the tale had twisted and morphed into a boy named Link who could heal with a single, fleeting touch, with his mind, with a kiss, with his piercing blue eyes alone.

Link was not prepared for what greeted him when he entered Hyrule Castle Town. Hundreds of eyes stared at him, watched him, observed him, without shame. Whispers he could only catch small snippets of—words like "messiah" and "miracle-worker" and "savior"—unnerved him, and he was glad for the homeliness, the solitude of the bazaar as he slipped into it. He made doubly sure to close the door behind him.

"T-thirty arrows, please," He stuttered. Why did he stutter? He was Link, the Hero of Time, bearer of the Triforce of Courage—why was he so unsettled? So frightened? Those were his people out there, the people he fought against Ganondorf for, who he risked his life many times for. So why was he breathing so hard, why was he sweating, why was he trembling so violently?

"Here you go," A gruff voice said, startling him out of his thoughts. Link thanked and paid the salesman distractedly, anxious to leave the town. He was halted at the door by the man's voice.

"Are you him?"

"Him?"

"The messiah?"

Link swallowed down his fear. He didn't know why that word sent chills through him, why it made his left hand—the one with the triple triangles—burn. The hero uttered a shaky, forced laugh. Feigning nonchalance, he asked: "Is that what they're calling me these days?"

Suddenly the heavyset man was upon him. He snatched the child up by the collar of his tunic. Link wrinkled his nose as the man leaned in close and breathed on his face; he had clearly been drinking.

"I don't believe them. I think they're all fools. Yer just a kid, just a damn kid. What right do you have, spreadin' such rumors?" The salesman was shaking Link as he yelled, and the hero couldn't help but be reminded of the Happy Mask Salesman.

Misinterpreting Link's small smile, the large Hylian slammed him against the wall. "Do you think it's funny, boy? Do you realize how dangerous you are?"

The man's eyes narrowed. One of his hands released its vice grip, and Link dared to hope that the man was releasing him.

"In fact, I'd be doing Hyrule a great service if I killed you right now."

Or not.

The hand clamped around his windpipe, quite effectively depriving him of much needed air. With all the strength of a grown man, Link (just barely) managed to kick the man in the stomach hard enough for him to double over, winded, effectively releasing his stranglehold. Not wasting a second more, Link scampered out of the bazaar, slamming the door behind him.

He didn't stop running—no, it was more like flat out sprinting—until he reached the market square. Only when he was completely swallowed up by the crowd did he allow himself to relax. Drawing heaving, sputtering breaths, Link leaned his full weight on the cool marble of the fountain.

The hero's moment of peace was short lived, however. It wasn't long before the couple dancing next to him—Honey and Darling, if he recalled correctly—realized who he was.

Darling shouted, rather loudly: "It's you! Link!"

The whole square seemed to freeze. Even the betting, the betting that went on all day every day incessantly had stopped. All turned to look at Link. Most had looks of awe and admiration on their faces; a very few, but enough to be noticed, were scoffing at him.

Link sheepishly gave the staring crowd of Hylians a small wave. The crowed just continued staring.

"Um, hello everyone." Were they expecting a speech? Link wasn't really that talkative to begin with.

Thankfully, his few words broke the dam of silence. Talk shot up like weeds amongst the townsfolk. Some murmured, others all but shouted.

But they were all still staring at him.

Link felt his palms grow slick with a nervous sweat. What did they expect him to do? Perform some kind of trick, some kind of miracle? Did they expect him to do something unreal, like wave his hand and turn the fountain water into red potion?

The voices were growing louder still, his headache becoming more and more pronounced, his fear mounting wildly, and oh, Farore, they wouldn't stop staring at him—

Link darted into the nearest alley.

The Hero of Time ran a trembling hand through his blonde hair, trying to (unsuccessfully) calm himself.

"I didn't want this," He muttered to the empty alleyway. Again, louder this time: "I didn't want this!"

Then what did you want?

"See my eyes I can hardly see."

Link whirled at the voice, to see a woman edging towards him, her arms outstretched. She was dressed in rags—no, bandages. As she limped closer towards him, Link could see the many lesions mottling her features. Blood leaked from unseeing eyes.

She was a leper.

Drawing the Ocarina of Time from his pouch, Link moved closer to the woman, beginning to play the Song of Healing. When he left Termia and returned to Hyrule, he wasn't surprised to see that the songs he'd learned in Termia had different meanings in Hyrule. It was only a matter of experimentation until he knew what they all did. (The Oath to Order brought the mailman running to him, of all people.)

As the final note sounded, the lesions receded from the woman's face, her arms, the rest of her body. She gasped in disbelief, touching her cheek with a strange sort of wonder. Tentatively, Link gave her what he thought was a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"There. You are healed." An odd feeling of power overtook Link as he said those words. He cheated the goddesses of a life—Who else could make such a bold claim? Even Ganondorf hadn't had such a power. He was the most powerful being in all of Hyrule. Maybe he was the messiah they claimed he was. Maybe he was meant to do this, to heal the sick. To save them from their predetermined fates, to give them another chance at life, at redemption. To give the people the freedom from the goddesses that they deserved—

Link shook his head, trying to rid himself of such poisonous thoughts. The goddesses were good, and all powerful. He was just a servant of Farore, nothing more. His powers are not his own, they were granted to him as a gift by the goddesses. If people are meant to die, then they shall die.

Right?

No. He shook his head again. If people are dying and he can save them, he must save them. To not do so would be a terrible sin—it is just as effective as him drawing the gilded sword on them. Link shuddered at the mere thought of it.

"Please, Link, help me. Look! See me stand—I can hardly walk." Another leper, a man this time, approached Link. This man, like the woman, was true to his word. Most of the nerves in his legs were all but deadened by his leprosy. He stumbled a few steps, and then his legs gave out on him. Even then, he began to crawl towards Link.

Pity and awe battled for dominance as Link rushed to fallen leper. This man was quite literally killing himself to reach Link. Did he truly see him as that great of a person? Did they all? Were they wrong?

What would you do if they were right?

Link had just barely healed the second leper when he was assaulted on all sides with voices. They were all pleading, calling to him. The Hero of Time turned in a full circle, startled to see lepers suddenly appear everywhere. They were hobbling out of buildings, crawling out from the various other alleyways, and approaching him from the main square.

"I believe you can make me whole."

"See my tongue, I ca—"

"—a mass of bloo—"

"Please, Link!"

"—hardly talk, loo—"

"See my skin, I—"

"—'m a poor, poor ma—"

"—on't you kiss me?"

"Can you make me well?"

"Heal—"

"Cure—"

"Touch—"

"Pay—"

"—me!"

The sick inched closer and closer, and Link could feel an unusual fear blooming in his chest. He wanted to run, to back away, to do anything, but he was trapped, trapped like a rat in one of Ganondorf's dungeons, because they had formed a circle around him now, packed so tightly flesh to flesh he had no hope of barreling through.

"There's too many of you!" Link tried to wave the people away, but they ignored his shouts, instead surging closer.

Frantically, he tried to touch as many of them as quickly as possible; he knew it wouldn't heal them, but they thought it would, and if they left him alone then that was all that mattered. They were all still telling him their wants, but they were shouting louder and louder to be heard over the others that all their pleads melded into a giant, yowling din.

"Stop it, please! Don't crowd me!"

The mass of lepers was upon him now, pushing and pulling, kissing and clutching. Some were grabbing at his green tunic, hard enough to tear.

"Don't push me!"

Link was drowning in a sea of bodies. The lepers were crawling on top of him now, pushing him to the ground as they climbed on him, all their sick, sweaty forms—

Begging—

Heaving—

smothering.

"Heal yourselves!"

Link awoke with a scream dying on his lips. He jerked violently, tumbling out of the bed and landing on the wooden floor with a solid and painful thunk. The blanket had been wrapped around his form and he shoved it off hastily, desperate for space and air. Still gasping, Link wiped the sheen of sweat from his forehead.

"Link, Link what's wrong?" Tatl, jolted awake from the commotion her companion made, was hovering over him. He squinted blearily up at the light she created.

"It was nothing. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep, Tatl."

The substitute-for-Navi didn't pry, and for that Link was deeply grateful. He couldn't wrap the dream around his own mind right now, let alone tell someone else. Soon her light winked out, and Link could hear the faint sounds of her heavy breathing.

Trying to follow his own advice, Link left the blanket on the floor (he didn't think he could stand anything on top of him right now) and crawled back into the bed. After four cycles, Link had decided it was high time for a break, and took the goron's reservation and promptly passed out in his room. He hadn't expected to be awakened on his first decent night of sleep by such a jarring dream.

But it all just a dream, just a nightmare, conjured from his frayed and jumbled mind.

Or...was it another premonition of what was to come?

Link shuddered, curling in on himself, knowing he'd get no more sleep that night.

-Fin-

-The-Sharp-Machete-