IF YOU ARE READING THIS, that means that I am no longer writing fanfiction, and this story will remain forever incomplete. I am so so sorry but it's just been too long. HOWEVER, I recently published my first novel, The Orphan's Code, which is available on Amazon! If you like this story that is a good place to go. Please PLEASE follow me on Instagram (authorcrrhillin) and Twitter theorphanscode for updates! I truly love you all and if not for your support a long time ago, I doubt I would be where I am today.

Preface

I remember the first time I stayed over at Malon's when I was eleven—in mind and body. It was fall, and her ranch was covered in fallen leaves and frost; she taught me how to ride a pony all day, and when the sun went down we sat by the fire while her dad made us apple pie. She asked me if I liked it, and I nodded—I didn't even know what it was—but the moment I tasted it, I knew I hadn't done it justice. Nothing, nothing at all that had ever been in my mouth had tasted so sweet and hot and wonderful. It was better than sweet spring water from the Lost Woods over fresh strawberries; it was better than anything that could ever have come from Kokiri Forest.

No matter what happens to me, I hope that I will never, never forget that day…there are so many memories I don't want to lose, but they keep slipping away like grains of sand….

Déjà vu.

In Hylian there was no word to describe the unsettling familiarity, the eerie feeling of I've done this before, but I can't remember when. Giving a word to it would not have helped Link much—he still wouldn't have remembered when or why. But maybe it would have been a little more bearable to know how to explain it.

There were many feelings his vocabulary didn't have the ability to define: déjà vu, a sort of distracting buzz in the back of his head saying something's wrong, but I don't know what, and the odd sensation of living a lie, having a mismatched body and brain—one too old, the other too young. But there was one feeling that dominated the rest, a feeling he knew and could sum up very well: fear.

He had first known fear when he had seen monsters in his home, Kokiri Forest, things with no souls and darkness dripping out of them as he'd fought them off wildly with his fragile shield and tiny dagger. However, he was stronger than most of them, and the fear lessened over time; he could do it with no more fear or guilt than cracking open an empty nut, for that was all they were.

But then he had seen the demons' queen, Gohma, a curse in the shape of an enormous spider…. He'd frozen, and only the thought of the Deku tree, guardian demigod of his home, and the knowledge that the spider was sucking the life out of him could galvanize him into action. As Gohma had died and crumbled away he'd fallen to the ground, his rapid heartbeats rocking his entire body, paralyzed by the mere thought of the monster.

Over time the larger creatures as well failed to scare him; occasionally one would come at him with the shape and agility of a sentient being, and only when he saw the darkness that composed them was he able to strike. They were all hollow, mere puppets of something bigger; killing them meant nothing. They usually came back later anyway, refusing to remain defeated for long.

Link had seen no worse injuries than a bruised cheek before his eleventh year, but in his journeys after that he saw violence everywhere he went. Homes, cities, cultures destroyed; people disappearing and died; people being used by darkness and cursed by hatred—this frightened him as well, and he wouldn't have been able to go on if he hadn't reminded himself that he could help, he could defeat the monsters that hurt people…and thank the goddesses that he hadn't hurt anyone….

…yet.

There was Nabooru, of course…she had been used as a puppet by two witches…he'd seen only the darkness and attacked, failing to recognize her beneath her armor and shroud of evil. And she had died…he had not killed her directly, but it was his fault. Again, he had to convince himself of his own virtue before he could go on…. Nabooru had been used by the witches, who served Ganondorf, the creator of all the monsters and misfortune in Hyrule. By killing the witches, he was hurting Ganondorf, and the closer he came to killing the evil king, the better.

And he finally had…. Nothing, nothing at all could have prepared him for that battle.

Fighting for one's life is not like fighting an inferior monster, or even a larger and smarter demon; Ganondorf's creations were made with barely a fraction of his overall strength, none really equal matches for Link as he had grown and improved. They all had had a weak spot, a way to be defeated that required only speed, intellect, and a special tool. After so many hits they were dead; all he had to do was find the flaw and pummel it a few times.

But Ganondorf was a mortal being, shrewd and strong, constantly changing strategy and moving with frightening speed. Link had felt panic closing in on him, dulling his senses and reactions, and could only think, I'm going to fail, I'm going to die, he's going to kill me, as he dodged, blocked, and scored clumsy hits wherever he could.

And he'd gotten away…for a time. He and the Princess Zelda had run, but Ganondorf had caught up…he had trapped them and unleashed unnatural power to transform himself into something resembling an enormous beast. And again he'd moved erratically, unpredictably, and violently, crashing after Link and swiping at him with eighteen-inch claws when he tried to gain some distance, but he was blind, thoughtless, consumed by darkness, and this made it easier for Link to destroy him. Princess Zelda and her sages had locked him away for good, and peace had returned to Hyrule.

And that's when Link's memories ended. He had found himself drifting around in a strange place, everything in his mind a blur; all he could remember were the strongest memories, like apple pie, meeting eleven-year-old Zelda for the first time, Gohma, Ganondorf. They stood out, lucid and bright against a myriad of unfocused images.

He knew Zelda had sent him back so he could live his live properly this time, as an eleven-year-old boy should. The threat to Hyrule was over; the fear should be gone for good.

So then…why was he still afraid?

And he was, he truly was…. He found himself eleven and vulnerable, with only his short dagger for protection, surrounded by monsters, darkness, and déjà vu—the unfamiliar combined with the familiar. Ganondorf haunted his dreams and lurked on the periphery of his thoughts; he skulked behind trees and walls, waited for Link in the darkness. Link ran away from him, wishing desperately for better memories to drown Ganondorf's out; he became convinced that Ganondorf had escaped the Sacred Realm and was after him, and Link was not eighteen or strong or brave anymore—he couldn't do it, he couldn't beat him this time, not in this strange place so close to and yet so far from his beloved Hyrule. The fear heightened, strengthened, tainted every breath and footstep and set him constantly on the edge.

Link was a foreigner in his own homeland, a native in a place filled with strangers…and no matter what he did or where he went, he was always, always afraid.

Chapter One: Clock Town

Link found himself outside a familiar city. Clock Town, said the sign by the gate, though he wasn't sure why he could read the strange lettering.

It was made out of the wrong stone, said his brain, and there was no drawbridge or castle. He couldn't say why the city should have these things; all he knew was that the tower rising over the walls seemed wrong, obtrusive. And yet it was familiar, eerily so; he'd seen it before. Déjà vu.

He didn't want to go in there; he was scared of it and wanted very much to run away. But there were monsters out here, and he was too hungry to keep fighting….

He braced himself with a breath and a firm grip on his dagger, and stepped through the gate; blinking in confusion at the sudden light and noise, he kept carefully in the shadows as he absorbed the strange city.

The tower was bulky, thick, and just WRONG altogether; it was a clock tower, an institution that he was very unused to, yet seemed somehow fitting for this city. It was a maze of a place, with alleys and plazas and streets thrown together and high walls surrounding it all, shops and stalls crowded together as life flooded through the narrow channels. The people that passed him without a glance were strangers, there was no doubt of that; he knew nothing about them, not even a name…and yet he felt that he'd seen them all before. He saw things like Hylians, yes, but also rock creatures, fish creatures, strange little things here and there that no one paid attention to—they were something new and frightening, yet he was as unsurprised as the city folk to see them. Though strange, that they should be in a Hylian town….

Link followed his feet and found that he knew where he was going. The layout of the city was ingrained in his mind, just not a part that he could conjure up and view as he wished; it was more a sort of memorized path that his feet would remember long after his mind forgot. He remained in the shadows as much as he could as he passed a patch of grassy land like a park that was familiar, with a bench and a playground that was not; he followed an alleyway down several turning, labyrinthine paths and emerged into a bright and bustling plaza.

A platform rose in the center of the plaza with stairs attached—obviously a place where public announcements were made. Behind it was the clock tower's entrance, and in its shadow was a little stream that flowed straight through a grille in its wall. A few stalls lined an entrance out of the city, the venders calling to shoppers as they brandished their wares. Link smelled something like cinnamon—like warm apple pie—and couldn't bear his hunger anymore. He scurried through the crowds, out of place in his green Kokiri tunic and hat and tough little boots; it did not help that no one in the city was carrying a weapon of any kind, either. Mothers with their children edged warily away from him, and he felt many harsh, curious, or frightened stares at his back as he approached the stall.

Warm baked apples with cinnamon and sugar sprinkled generously over them; Link's mouth watered at the sight and smell of the food. He was too small to be noticed by the busy vendor, who only saw him after he had slipped the apple off the platter and taken a heaven-soaked bite. Wonderful, so wonderful, so like apple pie and yet so different…déjà vu, but in a good way….

"Hey," snapped the vendor, glaring down at him—what a strange accent he had, and the language filled Link with even more overwhelming déjà vu; like his but not like his. "You gonna pay for that, kid?"

Pay…oh, yes. Link had forgotten about money. He dug in his bag for rupees he was not entirely sure were there; but to his surprise, he found quite a bit of them piled together at the bottom. He took a few green rupees out and set them carefully on the stall, keeping his eyes down.

The vendor scooped up the tiny green rupees and frowned at them, and Link, afraid, opened his mouth to ask if that was enough….

…but nothing came out.

Link tried again, his eyes widening in fear—nothing happened, nothing moved, his vocal chords remained still and silent…he tried desperately to form a word, one word, but all that came out was a hoarse, shaky breath…oh goddesses, oh goddesses, he couldn't speak—

The vendor grabbed the front of his shirt, and suddenly Link found himself dangling two feet off the ground with their noses pressed together. "What in the Dark Realm is wrong with you?" the vendor snarled. "What is this? What, you think you can pay with pretty colored glass, kid?"

Link tried to cry out, but nothing happened; he was mute, unable to explain or understand. Why was this happening to him?!

"Hey! Answer me!" the vendor growled, shaking him hard—Link's vision blurred with the motion and sudden burning tears, and he kicked and struggled and made motions with his mouth that were supposed to create sound of some sort, but didn't. The baked apple slipped from his fingers as fear overtook him….

But the apple never hit the ground; Link's honed ears heard nothing falling underfoot. As he realized this he was suddenly released; he landed on his feet and reoriented himself at once to see a strange man pulling the vendor politely back. The new man walked with a slight hunch beneath a bulky haversack, a broad grin situated permanently on his face, his bright eyes staring at everything at once; and Link's apple was in his hand.

"Hehehehehe," chuckled the man—the hairs on the back of Link's neck rose at the sound. "There's no need to be so…VIOLENT, is there?" He dug into his pocket and pulled out what looked like four ordinary green rupees, only Link sensed at once that they were strange currency quite different from his own. "There, no harm done." He handed Link his apple, which he took and bit automatically, his heart still pounding in his chest. "Come along," said the man, beckoning with a finger and turning away. He strode toward the clock tower in an odd way reminiscent of Gohma, but Link could see no more darkness than usual in him—still, was he expected to follow this stranger?

But the vendor was still glaring at him, and there was nowhere else to go, so Link, on his toes and preparing to run away at the slightest provocation, followed closely behind the strange man as he led him through the entrance of the tower.

The man closed the double doors behind him and gestured to the inner doorstep, his pale hand flashing in the dark. "Why don't you sit and eat?" he offered. Link was too tired and hungry to argue; he flopped onto the step and started decimating his breakfast, munching on every bit of edible fruit including a good bit of the core and sucking dry whatever was left as his eyes grew accustomed to the dark.

"My, you were hungry, weren't you?" the man said with another approving chuckle. "Stay put, and I'll bring you some more—don't move, now, that would be very unappreciative."

Link nodded—if he was getting fed, he wasn't going anywhere. His hunger dulled his sensed, and his dagger gave him too much confidence—he had never heard of poison in Hyrule, and wouldn't have thought of it now regardless.

The man chuckled and disappeared, the light temporarily blinding Link as he watched him go.

Stomach still growling, Link turned and took a good look around the room. All he could see in the gloom was a metal railing leading downward and then turning. Curious, he stood and placed his hand on it, following it down a sloping path and around a hairpin curve. Down here was the stream he'd seen before, which turned a few gears and levers bigger than he was; these continued upward until he could no longer see them. A bridge crossed the stream, but all there was on the other side were a few patches of fungi and a door.

Link crossed to the door and took a good look at it. For some reason he could not fathom, he wanted very much to go inside it; but there was no handle, gap, or hollow for his hands, and no matter how he pushed and shoved it was as unmovable as the stone it was made of. He stood there and stared at it for a long time, fighting back tears again; first he was trapped here, and then he was suddenly mute, and now this….

The door leading to Clock Town opened, and the man's voice called him. He jumped and hurried away from the door, the smell of food beckoning him irresistibly. The man offered him a clay plate piled with food and chuckled yet again as Link sat down to devour it.

"I did tell you to stay put," said the man. "You mustn't go wandering around down there, a gear could fall and crush you or the stream could sweep you away. You are a rather curious child…. Heheheheh."

Link nodded, too busy eating to ask questions. A dozen different delicious things were piled in front of him, many that he could not even begin to describe—he ate every bit of it except a few bite-sized pieces of what looked like grilled fish; Kokiri did not eat meat. The man did not miss a single detail.

"You don't eat living creatures, do you?" He chuckled. "Yes, I thought you wouldn't." He watched Link lick his fingers for a moment. "I knew that you were from the Forest the moment I saw you."

Link froze with his finger in his mouth; he removed it, wiped his hands carefully on his tunic, and looked expectantly up at the man with his hand set firmly on his dagger. The man grinned and chuckled.

"Yes, I know where you're from, and I know how you got here, and how you can go back. But don't be too hasty now—" the man wagged a finger at Link as he jumped to his feet. "I didn't say I would tell you."

Link scowled at him and drew his dagger halfway—he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"None of that," said the man calmly. "Allow me to introduce myself." He held out a hand for Link to shake, which he merely glared at. "I am the Happy Mask Salesman, traveling from place to place, from world to world to sell my wares. To Hyrule, to Termina—what does it matter? All have wonderful wonderful masks to buy and sell." He bowed with a flourish. "And you, young sir?"

Link could only blink at him, feeling frustration simmer within him as he was forced to remain silent.

"Ah, I see." The Salesman nodded. "You can't talk. That's fine, just fine—silence is sometimes needed to contemplate the mysteries of the world."

Link scowled at him.

"Do you remember how you came to Termina?" the Salesman inquired politely. Link thought about it, then shook his head—he really couldn't say he did. "Well, I can remember it clearly; it was just a few days ago. You came out of that stone door downstairs—Hey!"

Link heard nothing after that—he took off and ran, skidding down the path until he smacked into the door. He started pounding it with all of his strength until the skin on his hands split and started to bleed; why wouldn't it open, why wouldn't it open?

He stopped, panting, and threw a desperate, hateful glance at the door and at his bleeding hands. As he fought the urge to cry, clenching his fists against or perhaps in spite of the pain, a tall, thin shadow fell across him.

"If you would have let me finish," the Salesman said patiently, "I would have told you that it sealed behind you. Quite troublesome, really; I use that door to travel from Hyrule to Termina and back again. Now, I can open it again, of cou—"

The Salesman chuckled as Link swiveled around, the dagger point quivering at the Salesman's stomach. "I can," he repeated, "but quite truthfully I do not want to. You see," he continued, ignoring Link's dangerous glare, "something was stolen from me. And something was stolen from you too, young Kokiri—do you remember what?"

This threw Link off quite a bit; he faltered and blinked, trying to remember. And suddenly he did, and felt the unmistakable pang of loss clench his stomach—he jerked his bag open so hard that a few stitches split and started rummaging wildly through it. Where was it, where was it, where was the Ocarina of Time?

"The ocarina?" queried the Salesman with a knowing smile. "Yes, I saw you fighting with him for it; he stole your pony too, you know, a pretty copper thing. I was coming out of Termina, you see, my businesses completed for a time—this door leads right into the Lost Woods, do you know of them? Yes, you would; the Kokiri are a wonderfully friendly people by the way. But I saw you from the shadows—he ambushed you and stole the ocarina and the horse, and you chased after him through here…he put a dreadful curse on you, you know, but nothing I couldn't handle with the Song of Healing. And I saw him coming and made to stop him—I recognized you, of course, the princess declared you a knight—" She did? I don't remember…. "—and I like to keep up with the news. But he attacked me too, the dreadful ruffian, and stole…he stole…." The Salesman's face suddenly transformed with fury. "HE STOLE MY MASK!"

Link started and backed away as the Salesman started to pull at his hair and rock back and forth with anger and grief. "My mask, my beloved mask, the one mask I would never sell! Majora's Mask! He took it, he took it, the DIRTY THIEF!"

Link blinked in confusion as the Salesman sobbed for a bit, and then the minor breakdown was over; the Salesman stood tall again, wide, eerie smile back in place.

"Do you know of the Majora's Mask?"

Link shook his head.

"Then I shall tell you. Many ages ago, there was a tribe called the Majora that practiced dark and evil arts in the names of false gods. They were wicked and cruel, and showed no mercy to themselves or any other; with their black magic they created a Mask that contained their darkest powers and would bring out the evil in any being who wore it, strengthening him until he had enough power to match the gods. It was a terrible power that no mortal should possess, and the Majora were destroyed because of it.

"Now, never mind how I got that mask, but it's very valuable and my favorite, really—and I desperately need it back. Young man, how about a deal—if you find that fiend and get back my Mask, I will open the door for you and lead you back home. Will you do it?"

Before he had even finished speaking, Link was nodding fervently. Simple, it would be too easy…all he had to do was fight one monster and he could leave!

"There is a slight problem, though…." The Salesman was still smiling, but in another sort of way entirely. Link's stomach plummeted. "You see, I need to leave here in three days from tomorrow, young man, because in three days this world will not be a very happy place. Yet I cannot leave without my Mask—if it does not leave his hands and return to mine, it will not matter which world I am in—both will be very unhappy places indeed, and I do not like unhappy things. So if you do not return with the mask in three days, I will be forced to leave you behind. Is that clear?"

Link nodded and swallowed, suddenly nervous—three days?! How was he supposed to find the thief in three days? And he didn't even know who he was….

"Good. All you have to do is find that wretched Skull Kid—do you know the Skull Kid?" Link, surprised, nodded—the spirit in the Lost Woods had been the mysterious ally in many of his games. "Ah, yes, I thought you might. He is not the same as before; he is twisted and evil from the Mask's influence. You must get it away from him at any costs, young man, or he could very easily destroy the world. In fact, I'd say he's already begun."

Link gulped again. The Salesman smiled. "As I said, the world will not be a happy place in three days. Shall I show you why?"

He took Link by the shoulder and led him across the bridge, up the pathway, and through the doors. Link winced at the bright sunlight as the Salesman led him to the base of the platform in the plaza outside, stopped him, and turned him around.

"Now look up," the Salesman commanded.

Link did, shading his eyes against the dying sun—and screamed silently, screamed and screamed in fear as Ganondorf's yellow eyes glared down at him.