Water.
If there's anything I can both remember and feel, then it's that.
...
I remember the sounds of the waves, too. If anything could calm me down then it was waves...
...
I can hear them now, where ever I am.
"Link?" A voice asks. The voice tugs at something in my mind, something I should remember. So does that name. Yes, it's definitely a name.
"Leave him, son. He needs his rest." Says another voice. Slower and far more relaxed than the last. Older, too.
You know, I think they might be talking about me.
"He-..." I pause, shocked at the sound of my own voice.
Geez, relax. It's only you.
"Hello?" I ask with my eyes still closed. There's an image there, in my mind, that I need to... analyse. Two shocked gasps startle, almost disrupting the image in my head. I try my hardest to keep those two in focus. They're running. Both of them. Why?
"Link, you're okay!" Says the younger voice, much closer now. I guess it's time I opened these eyes of mine...
It's a mist, tinted slightly red.
I close my eyes again. That was disturbing. Sighing, I take my hands to my eyes and rub them. Then open my eyes again.
Standing in front of me is, I rub my eyes again, he looks just like the girl in the picture only his hair is short and white, and his skin is much darker. Oh, yeah, and he's a he. I look around. It's a small room, not much decor. There's a few other beds. The walls are made of stone.
And, of course, I get that horrible feeling that I should know this place.
Hm. This is going to be embarrassing...
"Wh-..." I begin.
"Where are you?" Says a dry voice, saying it for me. He's another bird man. I didn't even realize he was in the room until now. My bewilderment causes him to break out into a tortured smile as if he is debating whether it is truly worth the effort. "Link..." He murmurs, stepping into the light quietly, his 'smile' fading.
Cmon. Remember. These people clearly know you, you have to remember!
Another image flashes in my mind. It's...
A...
Letter?
Screwing up my eyes in thought, I focus harder on the image. A brownish grey hand is holding the latter out to me, feathers clutch on to the side of the hand's arm like lost children. Got it.
"You're postmen, aren't you?" I ask timidly, watching their expressions hopefully. The birdman in red chuckles and turns to the other birdman, smiling.
"See, Quill? He's not completely beyond help."
The other birdman, Quill, sighs. "I suppose you've won that bet." He says with as little humor as possible. He turns to me again, with a look of determination this time. It suits him a lot better than smiling, that's for sure. "Yes, Link. We're the Rito. The postmen of the Great Sea..." Sea. That word ignites a strange fire deep in my chest. "...You've saved us before in the past, ask anyone." The other Rito nod at this remark.
"Right now," He continues. "We're on Dragon Roost Island, the headquarters of the Island Postal Service, and the place where we found you." My eyes widen at this sudden revelation. "Yes, you were washed up here with nothing but a plank of wood and..." My eyes eagerly follow his hand as it reaches into his mail bag. With an awkward kind of flourish, he produces... a small wand-like thing. "I believe that, a long time ago, you told me that this was the Wind Waker. A baton used by the king of old to conduct to the sages. You used it to borrow the powers of the gods." He pauses to let this new (or old?) information sink in. Dammit, I need to remember to breathe. "At least," He begins again. "That's what your boat told you."
What? My boat? Talking? I'm pretty sure that's not normal. I look towards the other rito.
"I guess... that sounds familiar..." I manage. This all seems hopeless. Regaining memories. Talking boats. Godly batons. As ridiculous as that would sound... It doesn't, not to me.
"Link?" Asks the younger Rito. I look at him. He's adjourned in jewelry and gold. His red eyes aren't hostile or aggressive, they're... longing. He's pushing something back. Tears, perhaps?
"Yes?" I croak; I still don't feel one hundred percent.
"Would you like me to show you around?"
The Rito in red, presumably the boy's father, opens his mouth as if to say something but I cut him off.
"Yeah, I think I need that. Maybe it'll jog my memory." I don't think the boy can take much. He seems... vulnerable. Wether he's normally like this or something's happened, I don't know.
He grins and motions for me to follow him. Getting up is a little hard, but I manage.
Outside is a much larger cave, although, the word cave doesn't do it justice; it's a lot homier than the word implies. Several Rito wander around hurriedly with clip-boards in hand, not taking their eyes off them. Other Rito examine crates, exporting and importing their contents as if it was all they ever knew. On our floor, the second floor, one Rito sits behind a desk and sorts letters with a concentrated look. His eyebrow twitches every so often as he decides where to place the letter. As I follow the boy past this letter-sorting Rito, he smiles at me wryly. I wave to him, as if I should know him.
The boy exits through a small hole in the side of the cave that leads to a large, wooden balcony of sorts. Looks more like some kind of runway to me. As I step out into the fresh air, a huge feeling of nostalgia overwhelms me. There it is. I'm already running towards the edge of the platform. The Big Blue. The Endless Waves. The Great Ocean. The starry sea, and the wavy sea. Joining for a dance on this wonderful night.
Wait, where's the boy?
Guiltily, I tear my eyes from the playful, twinkling reflections in the blue. A quick scan of the area. There. He's on that rocky outlook a little ways left from the entrance.
Upon reaching his motionless body, I can just see that he's clutching something in his hands and... whispering? What is this? Grief?
Quickly, I prepare to address him but realize I don't even remember his name. Think. You must remember him. Take his face. Good, now put it into your mind. Mix it around. Find those memories...
There's lava, and dragons, and a pearl, Rito, this boy, a girl.
And...
A flower...
Oh. That.
Oddly enough, it's the girl I saw earlier. Stranger yet, in my memories, this boy was young and wingless. He also seemed a lot weaker.
"It's Komali, isn't it?" I say with a friendly tone that surprises me. He spins around, shocked.
"How did you...?"
"Even if I don't remember why we're friends, I could never forget one." I say, with as much truth as I can find. So, it's a flower in his hand. The flower. Except it's wilted. Died. The dead flower in the boy who masks his sadness' hands. Quite melancholic, really.
"Listen, Link." He says, wiping away the brief smile. "I didn't ask you to come out here so I could show you around, I know you can regain your memories on your own." He turns around again, facing the ocean. "Heck, you didn't need anyone to show you around when you first came here." He mutters quietly. After a short pause, he rummages around in his pocket for a small scrap of paper and hands it to me.
It's her.
There's no mistaking that it's her.
Her beautiful red hair tied into a cute yet long and elegant ponytail.
Her eyes, big enough to be wise and calculating, but small enough to be treasured gems.
Her beak, the sign of her being Rito, contrasting with her pale and almost Hylian skin.
And, by the ocean, that smile.
Just like the ocean, it takes me a moment to bring my thoughts onto anything else.
"Medli." I say with confidence.
"What?" He says, surprised.
"That's Medli, The Sage of the Earth."
"What?!" His scream makes me jump.
"You didn't know?" I hiss. But he doesn't listen, he's already grabbed me by the shoulders, hurting me more than he intends.
"What happened to her?" He says with heavy breath. I try to remember.
Earth sage. Earth temple. Headstone.
Headstone?
"Headstone Island! She's there." I exclaim, wanting him to remove his trembling hands. He does. He closes his eyes and steps onto the wooden railing.
"Medli." He smiles. "I've finally found you." His smile turns into a cocky grin. One that I remember. "And now I'm coming for you." He jumps.
He spreads his wings and flies towards the now rising sun in the east.
Soon, my disbelief turns to a wonderful mix of anger and worry, and I'm already running back.