Disclaimer: I do not own Zelda, obviously.
Whenever Battle has made you weary...
The Hero's breathing was slowing, as he dragged himself to the place of his desire. Burdened with weapons of iron, he left a trail of crimson. He came to a wall, quickly bombed.
His feet touched stone-cold marble, and he knew he was near. He wheezed, but continued. He brought a blue flute-like instrument to his lips...
Hero fell, face first into shallows waters. He heard the familiar sound of wings flapping, and rolled over to stare into the void.
Wounds closed, wear-and-tear fixed, he lifted himself up.
"Whenever battle has made you weary, please come back to see me!"