There is a fine line between bravery and stupidity. It is cruel how thin that line goes, for some men may be exceedingly brave, then die a horrid death trying to protect something important to him, and might only be seen as foolish.
Some of the greatest men in this world have been great heroes, but then died a rather un-noble death with profound regrets plaguing his soul.
I know I shouldn't be thinking this but…what will people think of when they hear my name after I leave this life?
Will they remember my great deeds? Will they make monuments in my honor?
Or will they hang their heads with a tut or a sigh saying, "How foolish that boy was!"
I cannot turn back time to change their views. My days of time travel are far behind me and I shall never do it again.
In the back of my mind, there is a voice saying, "But you killed the Dark Lord! You deserve better!"
These thoughts are selfish and I know this. I should not be having such thoughts. But I can't help but wonder what will happen when I am gone.
Will I be forgotten or will I be remembered?
Neither seems like a good option.
Being forgotten might be good, seeing as people will leave me in peace for once. I have grown tired of being in the spotlight all the time. But if they forget me, it will be like my deeds were all for naught. I can see the outcome of my work, but I will never be appreciated for it in the slightest. Hiding in the shadows forever would be just as cruel a fate as being trapped in the life people expect me to live. As a hero, they expect me to be perfect. But no human in this world is perfect. And neither am I.
They expect heroes to be tall, strong, born to be heroes. I would not fit that description. When I became a hero, I was just a kid. Just a clueless teenager caught in the middle of an apocalypse, nothing more. I was by no means strong or tall. I was quite the contrary. I was actually rather short for my age. And indeed, my home village was quite modest, so I had grown up with kind, selfless people, and their influence rubbed off on me, creating the sort of attitude of a hero that most would expect.
But people expect heroes to be brave every second. It's almost like they think heroes can't feel any emotion. But they are wrong. Heroes are just as human as the rest of us. I was often scared out of my mind to the point where my weapon was shaking in my hand, but the only difference was, I didn't turn and run. I stood my ground and I faced my fear. If I turned and ran my friends would be next. They were what pushed me forward.
And when my best friend got amnesia and forgot all about me after all I had been through to get to her, I cried. I didn't let anyone see because heroes weren't supposed to cry, but it's true. I did. I cried. And no one saw.
What's that? An imp that once walked beside me? Where has she gone, you ask?
Ah yes, my companion…
I find myself caught between tears and happiness whenever I think of her. When we first met, I hated her and she thought likewise of me. She saw me as nothing but her own tool. She saw me risking my life for people I didn't know and shook her head, tutting in disapproval. I was always the "idiot." I can understand why she thought of me in such a way though, because after all, bravery is dangerously similar to foolishness.
But then if one was to see it in that way, does that make the whole war of Twilight nothing but a foolish quarrel?
As she spent more time with me, my companion came to understand my ways. I wouldn't exactly say that she respected me. She was always thought higher of herself. But that was just part of her charm. I didn't mind.
Over time, she witnessed the selfless acts of the Princess of Light and myself and let our selfless nature bleed into her own ways. She was kind to me then, and we became closer.
Friends.
Then best friends.
Then…
I never knew if she felt the same way, but by the time our journey was over, I loved her far more than just a friend.
But then she left. She left for the sake of her country. A selfless act. Putting the needs of her people and the realm of light before her own.
I suppose I should feel proud that I was one of the people to help create that new selflessness in the beautiful powerful queen. I know she will make a great queen.
But at the same time I…. I wish I could have….
But such thoughts are selfish. I should not be thinking such things. But still…
I find myself mulling over her final words to me, night after night.
"Link… I… See you later."
It seemed to me that she changed the words at the last minute. What was it that she wanted to say? Why was she too scared to say them?
I have a faint idea of what she might have meant to say…
Nonsense. It is probably just wishful thinking.
Besides, what difference would it make? Even if she loved me as well, that would never change the fact that she is there and I am here, never to meet again.
I'm just human. Just a teenager thrown into the middle of a war. Sometimes I feel like turning back. Sometimes I just let myself break down and I ask and I beseech why did I have to be given this burden. It was given to me by the gods, but why me?
Why me?
Why not let the Triforce of Courage pass to someone else?
My soul is tired and worn. I yearn for rest. But a century later, my soul will pass to another and they shall be forced to endure the same fate. I just hope that they shall not have to part with their companion the way I did mine…. I do not know if my soul could endure such pain again.
My companion said that what I do is stupid and foolish, and maybe in a way she is right. But there is a fine line between a brave heart and a fool.
And I walk along that line.
A/n: Hey guys! To those of you who have read "This is not a Fairytale" before this fic, you may recognize the writing style of this one. And for good reason. I wrote this fic in the same mindset as the previous, and I am quite satisfied with the results. I love to expand and try to ask the questions I wouldn't usually think about asking. It's kind of like channeling my inner Gandalf. Let me know what you think in the reviews! Bye guys, DFTBA and ZP29 out!
