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The Shattered
The mighty Sword of Time clatters to the floor, its glowing
blade vibrating with a clang as it falls limply from my hand. Its handle is discolored, marred with the
very blood whose veins it slit only moments ago: my own.
You would think that I, the Hero of Time, wouldn't come to
this, that I would be stronger, happier, without any thoughts of ending my own
life. Then again, maybe it isn't you who needs to do some thinking maybe it's
me. I never thought it would
come to this.
I never truly understood destiny, which is ironic since I am
a child of it. Why does it have to be so openly cruel to those it bends in its
ways? Just the way it chooses and picks
among us swells a sense of injustice in me, especially since I just happened to
be one of those chosen.
Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to be the Hero of
Time. Not once did anyone, even the beloved
Deku Tree whom I had spent years praying to, think once to hear my opinion in
all this. Not once did anyone think to
slow down and perhaps ask if I was okay, needed help, needed a laugh, etc.
No, it was all about the Triforce that damned hunk of golden
power that I never even wanted in the first place. I don't care about having unbelievable powers or being the one
who could pull the sword from the stone; I just wanted to be me. Now I'm a hero, a star, and a "man of
the people."
I laugh bitterly at the title even as I lie in pain,
gauntlets gone, tunic soaked red, and wrists slashed open carefully. Killing myself wasn't a spur of the moment
thing, you know; I've been dying for a long time. No, let me correct myself.
I've been dead for many years already. Two lifetimes later, and I've finally found the strength to go my
own way. Too bad my way involves a
darker way out.
They claim to love me, cherish me, and hold me in their
hearts forever. I snort. Yeah,
whatever…I'm not an object of love for them; I'm an object of pride, an idol,
someone who's name they can post on billboards and banners to show how great
they are.
Poor Zelda…she tried so hard to make me happy, but even she
slowly faded into disillusion as we began to grow older. She slowly took on the role of the expected
princess stereotype, and just as slowly, our friendship faded. I'm not saying she's a bad queen; in fact,
she's a fantastic queen. It's just…I've
changed…and I can no longer drag her down with me. Besides, she's far too wise for the likes of me, too
sophisticated for my rank. All I have
left is courage.
"Oh, and I just couldn't understand why that
is," I think bitterly to myself, glancing down at the golden icon
engraved in my hand as it begins to glow, signaling that it's power about to
heal my wounds.
Damnit! Even in
death destiny follows me, trying to pull me back into a web of more pain and
despair. Well not this time! This time I will be the one to decide my
fate, not a sage, not a Triforce, not even a damned goddess. You hear me! I will prevail this time.
From the angry shunning of the Kokiri to the loss of Malon
I-Oh Farore…Malon…Damnit! Don't let me
die with those blissfully wonderful memories as the last thing I see…
Suddenly my body feels suddenly colder, suddenly weaker as
the memories of sparkling blue eyes, shimmering hair, and sweet kisses come
swarming back. Sweet, honest Malon, she
was one of the few people who ever truly ever knew me, including the darker
shades of me.
But like everything else, destiny took her away from
me. Damn those invaders from beyond the
southern cliffs! If only I had reached
the ranch in time, before they ransacked, burned, and pillaged the farm, and
then left her raped and simpering on the floor as the burning barn collapsed
around her, the very animals she'd lived for trampling her to death as they
rushed to get out. Only Epona stayed…
And now I'm alone, beaten, and fallen. I have become…shattered. I have become one of the fallen, the
forgotten whose only memories of life are pale shadow of there once still
beating heart.
Shattered by destiny and false love, and beaten beyond
belief, I pick up the cold, emotionless blade that started me down this path of
self-destruction in the first place and bring it close for scrutiny. The soft temple light gleams of the blade-I
thought the Temple of Time would be the most appropriate place to end it-as I
begin to stand with the growing strength I gain as the Triforce of Courage
continues healing me, conquering me.
I run my hand along the slick blade, wiping off the slowly
drying blood so that it's clean for its final cut. The closing curtain has
dropped, and the last act has concluded.
Gently raising the blade above me, I smile one last time in victory as I
close my eyes and allow the sword to finish the job it's fateful companion,
destiny, began long ago.
One final cut destroys a flame whose candle stopped
burning years ago, and time stops in an instant to mourn its loss. But don't feel bad for the Hero, for he
found his release long ago. Pray for
those who's flickering lights are steadily waxing lower, and who are slowly becoming
the shattered.
"Until the
yonder dawning breaks,
Beware the subtle
faults of destiny,
For those who
dared to claim and stake,
Are shattered in
its grieving wake."
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Yay, nay? I tried,
so sue me. Please review, etc, etc.
