Prologue

"No… No, please wake up!"

That voice… it was familiar. Familiar in all sorts of ways, but currently, it pained her to think of whom it belonged to. Why couldn't he have let her sleep? It was much easier to go that way than to stay awake. He knew that. He knew that she wanted to go that way. But then again, he made it his job to prevent her from doing things as she wanted. That was the reason why she was there… and also why the one who she had once considered to be her future husband hadn't been able to kill her like he planned to do.

The woman groaned as she gazed upon the bleeding form of the man she had fought beside. Her vision growing hazy, though the sky was bright, she grinned up at the ageless, handsome man she cherished and hated. "I'm dying… and so are you. You shouldn't have come for me and you know it. You had to be the Hero, and not just for Hylia…" Her breathing became harsher as she struggled for breath.

"I won't leave you. Not now. Let me take you to Hylia's temple. They can care for you there!" He lifted her back off the ground and onto his lap, gazing steadily at her face.

The woman shook her head, closing her eyes against the pain. "No, they cannot help me now. My wounds are beyond the capacity for them to heal. Besides," she opened her eyes to gaze at his face one last time. "You have to save the world."

"What is this world if you can't stay around to be in it?" he said, his voice echoing in her mind with melancholy. "You are needed much more than you know."

She laughed softly. Using her last bit of strength, she raised her hand to hold his cheek. "I know, and you know I feel the same about you… But that just doesn't seem to be the way it is, right?" She coughed violently, suppressing the urge to writhe in her Hero's arms. Even more softly, she whispered, "I just have two more things to tell you, you knucklehead."

"What is it?" he asked, resigned. He knew her too well. Even with her dying breath, he knew she would find something to nag him about. That was just the way she was. Ever the mother-figure, ever the one to get under his skin… Ever the one to cheer him up when he was lower than the sea…

"First," she sighed, "don't let them get you. If you have to die, then die with honor. They should NEVER have the pleasure of desecrating the body of the one who defeats them."

"I didn't plan on it," he replied dryly.

She smiled, and then whispered, the coldness steadily creeping into her mind and body, "Good. Then I can rest in peace…" In an undertone, she added, "At least until I am needed again…"

"What?" he questioned sharply, then he shook his head with a small grimace. "No, never mind. What is the second?"

Her smile all the more melancholy, she shuddered, then breathed, "Closer…"

He listened to her, for once.

"I love you…"