Note: I do not own The Legend of Zelda. Nintendo has those rights. This is my first non-KH fic, so I hope it turns out ok.
I pull the blade from my last foes head and watch him slowly fall to the ground, rejoining his comrades once again in the massive and bloody heap of enemies that I have slain within minutes. None of them are recognizable anymore, not even the ones I had done little to. I didn't care who or what they were anyway. They were just another enemy, just another notch in my magnificent blade, just one more life taken by my hands.
I brushed my sword along a few blades of grass, cleaning it off and sheathing it, placing my shield over the top of it as I did so. I looked again at the pile of enemies, and wondered how anyone could be so cruel. What had I become to kill so many when I knew not who they were, whether they had families, whether they could think or not. I had come across mindless minions of the dark in my journeys, but also intelligent beings that had taken everything I had to conquer. I had originally mourned for these poor souls, but as the years and fights had drug on, I found that I no longer cared. All that mattered was surviving to the next day.
I found a place of comfort among a meadow in the middle of the forest that I had been traveling. I had nothing to fear off robbers, most intelligent men now knew who I was, and dared not take form my treasures I had garnered over the years. I pulled out a small ocarina, pink in color, and picked at a few notes on it before entering into a song that had been taught to me by a dear friend. A friend I had witnessed being slain by the hands of a mere robber, taking advantage of a girl caught off guard. He didn't last long afterwards, but he had taken something very dear to me away. I hadn't been the same since.
She wore all green, just as I do now, and had a knack for making me smile. She seemed so much younger than I, but in truth we were the same age, her race aged at a very slow pace, whilst that of Hyruleans which I belonged to only lived for eighty or so years. I had never heard of a Kokiri dying of anything besides murder, for they never aged, so how could they die of old age? But she was taken from me, and I had never been able to be a full human ever again.
The word human is such a strange word. We use it to describe all the races that are smart enough to think, and to all those others we simply refer to as monsters. But monsters were creatures that did nothing but kill. Was I becoming one of them? I had never thought of this. I stopped playing my ocarina, and thought about the irony in this. Here I was, the great protector of man, and I was no different than the monsters of which all the people feared. Whether it be the Hyruleans, the Gerudo, or even the Zora, they all feared those that killed without mercy, which is exactly what I was. I may not kill any of them, but how long was it before I became just a myth to them, then what would they think of me?
The famous Hero of Time. They told small children of my success over the great evil Ganon, but it always ended after that. The children looked up to me, so I tried to avoid any form of civilization, so as not to disappoint them. Hyrule had expanded its borders immensely, taking up everything from the castle to Lake Hyrule and far, far beyond. Once Ganon was gone, peace came between the Gerudo and the Hyruleans, but the Zora and the other races that dwelt in this plane had gone into reclusion. They feared the combined power of them both, and rightfully so. The two kingdoms had done nothing but conquered other lands since they had formed the pact. Every time a city fell by there hands, I could not help but all the blood spilt by my own hands, just so that this could be possible. What had I truly done by slaying Ganon? Certainly our people were now more protected, but I had caused so much suffering to everyone else in the world. Had I committed a sin by killing the sinner? I would never know. Life would go on how it was; there was no taking back actions that had already been made. I was destined to live the life that I now did, and watch in torment as my deeds of heroism spawned more and more actions of hate.
She had once told me that by saving men life would be better for all, but was that really the case? Certainly those within our own borders were fine, but the rest of the world suffered and cursed names towards the Hero of Time, who wielding the master sword had slain Ganon, but enslaved them all. My life was doomed to that of a wanderer, now being excepted nowhere outside of my own country, and fearful of doing something I would regret. The world was worse because of the acts of heroism committed by one boy who had done what he could to save a dying land, and in the end he had caused the death and suffering of more people than he could count.
The goddesses had a cruel sense of humor.
No, this was not the cause of the goddesses, it was the cause of the greed of men, and the worthlessness of there nature. I stared down at my ocarina. I had once had another one very similar to it, blue in color and much larger. That one now rested in the hands of the royal family. By writing the wrongs of the future I no longer had needed it anymore. I still knew the song I had played to alter my path through time, but would it still work. The thought had played on my mind a few times, but I dared not attempt it. If I had screwed up the world this much by altering the flow of time once, what would happen if I were to do it again? I placed the ocarina back into my pouch, and shouldered my bag. I placed it underneath my shield, and set again to my wanderings.
Where has the young boy gone?
Fin