Garden of Gods Child of the wilderness Who will be there for you Never dreamed out in the world So laugh in your loneliness Learn to be lonely -Phantom of the Opera
Born into emptiness
Learn to be lonely
Learn to find your way in darkness
Comfort and care for you
Learn to be lonely
Learn to be your one companion
There are arms to hold you
You've always known your heart was on its own
Child of the wilderness
Learn to Be lonely
Learn how to love life that is lived alone
Life can be lived life can be loved alone.
Chapter One
Link stared at the muddy surface of a pond, quietly watching the sunlight dance on the green surface, as if waiting for something to rise up from the murky depths.
When he stared hard enough, he could see tiny, translucent fish swimming, darting from algae clump to algae clump. His eyes burned from keeping them open for so long, glaring down into the deep waters. Sometimes he could see an endless, frothing, white wave of dots at the bottom of the pond reminiscent of Great Bay...although his mind drifted far from the nameless pond in the middle of Kokiri Forest.
It was strange, having a blade in his hands, but nothing to kill. Years of adventure had at last come to an end. The sword evoked memories of beautiful places, and a bitter taste came to his mouth. There was no where else to run to; he had come, he had conquered. Saved Hyrule, saved Termina, and nameless other territories. He often dreamed of venturing in dark dungeons, slaying countless monsters. Sometimes he wished Ganondorf was still alive...at least then he would have an obstacle to overcome.
Twelve years had passed since the final battle against Ganon. The towns had returned to normalcy, heroes and villains eventually faded, as heroes and villains were destined to do. Somewhere, maybe someone had forgotten the name of Link, Hero of Time, and his legacy. Maybe his name lay rotting somewhere in a musty book, in some old library.
Link, on the other hand, never wanted to forget. He loved the feeling of adrenaline pounding in his veins, the prospect of death dangling right in front of his nose. He loved the sound of metal against metal, the feel of his enemy's blood on his hands. He loved it all.
His evil-fighting posse had disassembled, sealed away forever in their respective temples, and Zelda was busy learning to rule the world. Betrothed, probably, to some rich, snooty prince, living her little fairy tale, as princesses and their Knight-in-Shining-Armor do.
He looked at his reflection in the pond. A battle-starved man stared back, blue eyes wide and hungry for adventure. He wondered what happened to the innocent, fairyless boy from Kokiri Forest.
Zelda had tried to hold him back, tried to curb his wandering ways by offering him a any position he wanted in the military. A military of cowards unable to slay half of the monsters he had encountered. To return to Zelda was like cutting off his own wings; he would never be able to soar far and free ever again.
He desired freedom. He craved obstacles. He had wanted to kill those that challenged him, all of them, one by one. Wanted an opponent that could give him a good fight, an opponent that could make him strive to become better. He wanted to best them all, make them beg on their knees for their pathetic lives and recognize that he had always been better, had always been stronger.
A good challenge was worth everything.
He had stared down Death once upon a time, gazed into its gaping black darkness. He had felt its rancid breath against his face as he lay half-conscious, a stench that smelled of rotting flesh and metal that brought tears to his eyes, hot and putrid. He heard a woman screaming his name faintly, somewhere far, far away. The Master Sword clattered beside him, spinning to a halt on the rough stone ground, jolting him out of his stupor. If he squinted hard enough, he saw Zelda, standing behind a ring of fire, blonde hair plastered to her face, her expression terrified as Death advanced slowly toward her. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, his heart thumping excitedly against his ribs as the Master Sword was slipping from his wet palms. He raised the Master Sword and stabbed his opponent again and again, dodging swiftly each counter-attack. The fact that each breath he drew may have been his last made him almost giddy with anticipation. He remembered flashes of fire, pain, and blood, swirling around him like a storm. Plunging his sword between his foe's eyes, the fight was at last brought to an end as the beast fell down at Link's feet in a pool of blood and spit. It was over. Ganon was dead, the manic light extinguished from his eyes.
When it was all over, Zelda stood in front of him, exhausted, beautiful, and broken. She apologized for endangering him, corrupting an innocent boy for her own mistakes. He said nothing, and she asked for the Ocarina back. Next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the Master Sword pedestal in the Temple of Time.
Historians wrote him down as something of a God, a hero that rose out of nowhere, clad in green and wielding the legendary blade, and saved Hyrule from perpetual doom. Details of his battles he couldn't recall were recklessly thrown in, magnifying his greatness. It would have made his parents proud.
The land rejoiced at the Dark King's death. Parades, parties, and banquets were held in honor of the savior who had slain the evil dictator. Link, meanwhile, hid in his tree-house, plotting his next adventure.
But now, there was nothing. Link spent endless hours roaming the forest, dreaming great things. He dreamt of angry dragons that snatched away beautiful women, and that he would be called upon to rescue the damsel in distress, and of defeating an entire enemy army in the defense of a war-worn nation. He dreamt that he would never have to save another cat from a tree or stop a runaway goat ever again...Men like him should never return to a life of ease or predictability.
But he returned, returned to a foreign world of routine and tranquility. He had not expected to return; the life of a hero was supposed to be brief and glorious. Heroes weren't supposed to grow old. Heroes were supposed to venture off into strange, far-away lands to save people, and never return. They were supposed to die in their peak of greatness.
However, fate decided that he would outlive his fame and adventure, restrain him to a routinely life. Fate also decided that one day, while on a hunting trip, he would catch sight of Hyrule Castle. It was dusk; he had just shot a rabbit and was stooping down to retrieve his prey. The rabbit had given him a hard chase-- he was far from the borders of Kokiri Forest. Link removed the arrow from the carcass, and he saw her. The inpenetrable, sturdy fortress. Darkness had fallen, and the drawbridge was raising. Though it had been years since he heard the sound, he remembered the slow creaking of the platform well.
Hyrule Castle. The emblem of power, of strength, and of order. A place brimming with old memories of tea parties under old elm trees and of pain. Of hope.
He remembered Zelda's offer, her feminine voice echoing in the back of his head. Perhaps...
Dare he return..?
A frown knit his brows. Dare he return, and allow a leash to be put around his neck like a noose? Dare he return, only to become a military dog?
"No position will be beyond your reach..."
The wind caught behind his cap as he stood, gazing.
Tomorrow...
Author's Note: Wahh! So much shorter than I wanted it to be...Well, the introductions are usually shorter, I suppose. Anyway. The title seems wierd right now, yes, but I promise, it will tie in with the story later. Oh and by the way...I own Zelda...just kidding. KIDDING! haha. Ah, well. Constructive critism is definitely good, so leave lots:-D
