You weren't supposed to question it. You weren't supposed to ask how, or why.
You were expected to accept it, to feel honored, to be apart of something greater. You didn't have to find purpose. Purpose found you. So that's what everyone did when it came to destiny. It wasn't a belief, it was a fact. The goddesses chose for you, and it was best. Always.
Leaned against a chunk of old stone wall, what had once been a part of someone's home, Link dared to ask.
Why me? Why, like this?
How is this supposed to be better?
How is any of this someone's choice?
He found his eyes to the stars, the night chill misting his breath and stinging his lungs with every new inhale. He smelled awful. Sweat, blood and guts had stained his clothes from his last battle already hours old. But it was quiet. Cricket song rose to the air, and the tall grass danced in unison with the trees as a breeze came in.
Link strained to put his palms to the small fire he'd made. If he was this sore now, he'd feel like hell in the morning. He rummaged through his things for a red elixir he'd made, popped the cork, and downed the sour-sweet liquid in one gulp. That helped. He felt a warmth seep through him, and let out a sigh. Okay, that helped alot. He leaned back again.
This was a strange life. Both now and before. Memories were still coming back of the person he'd been before, the people that lived before.
Urbosa, Mipha, Daruk, Revali, the King...Zelda. Their faces and ambitions, their successes and failures. He felt guilt over them, he felt hurt for them, and an almost foreign kind of loss about both. He remembered them, he felt these things, but, he still questioned it all. He questioned in a way he never would have thought to before.
He thought back to his memory of the Princess herself once asking him something as he'd practiced his swordplay in the pouring rain. Would he still have chosen to be a knight, if people hadn't told him it was all he was good for? If they hadn't assigned a destiny to him? If he hadn't been called by the master sword? Was it something he'd truly even wanted in the end?
Link didn't remember enough about himself to answer those questions. He didn't know if he'd ever even asked them. He didn't even remember his father, who Zelda had said was the reason he was a knight. That apparent reason he now had this destiny, was no longer even apart of him. Now, was he nothing but a destiny? An empty vessel?
"Why am I doing any of this anymore?" Link whispered to himself. Tired and raspy, his voice was strange to his own ears.
He turned his focus back outward and looked from the stars to the moon. Then from the moon to the shadows of the trees, and from the trees to the glimmering eyes of small animals that walked through the night. He thought of the delicious food he'd learned to make, that feeling of a full belly and warmed insides. He thought of his cozy bed back in Hateno.
Then he remembered laughter. Zelda's smile. The way Urbosa would smack his shoulder as she boomed with a hearty chuckle at her own jokes. The way Revali would roll his eyes, but smirk to himself about it. Daruk's toothy grin over a follow up pun. Mipha's shy little titter as she watched on, a hand over her mouth. They'd, been around his table for dinner once, Link realized. A new memory.
Had that been why? For them?
He thought back to the moments he'd recover a memory. They'd just been information at the time. Images, sounds and sensations that seemed to belong to someone else, as if from an old dream. Now though, as he took the time to think of them from his current perspective, new feelings came up. A different kind of warmth. An actual familiarity. It was faint, but it was something. For the first time, his past and present self could agree on something.
He felt, more, in this mindset of optimism. It was comforting. He still didn't have the answers. He still felt tired and a little miserable. But between the good and the bad, if he had any choice at all in this life, he chose to look for himself in the happinesses of knowing he had lived. And because he had lived, Link could go on.
A/N: this is a definite stream of consciousness drabble. The grammar is probably messy and spotty as heck. I'm so rusty, dudes.
But this ended up serving as an example of what I've been learning in psychology about paying attention to one's inner dialogue. What we tell ourselves, and also how our physical body and surroundings can impact that. If we're worn out, it's harder to argue with ourselves about negative feelings we might have. If we're completely in our heads without taking a minute to recenter, we can miss out on or even forget the people and feelings that helped us become who we really are outside of our negative thoughts and feelings. We always have a choice in how we end up seeing the world. If you made it this far, thanks for reading.
Stay inspired!