No one in Termina would argue that it was impressive. The moon hung like a shroud over the land, its death sealed in the sky's lunatic grin. Nothing yet in Link's meager arsenal could avert the impending disaster- Link could travel back to day one, ground zero, and attempt to begin his journey anew. He was not preventing the apocalypse; he merely tried to buy more time.
"Termina," Link said aloud. It was curiously fitting. Even the name of the land he had entered seemed to foretell its imminent termination.
Time travel was nothing new to the adolescent. He had been swept back and forth so much through the years that time meant very little to him anymore. It hardly registered that it was Night of the Final Day- as Tatl had felt so graciously inclined to remind him. He could close his eyes and practically see the clock ticking down- 12pm, six hours remain. 1am, five hours remain. Every second, every moment he drew closer and closer to the end.
Link stood atop the unfinished tower that was intended to allow carnival attendees to access the top of the clock tower, if the workers hadn't all evacuated first. He was only able to access it by Deku Flower. He wondered what it would be like if the moon wasn't fated to destroy the world- would he attend the carnival? Would he adorn a new face and masquerade with the others, like he belonged?
What would happen when the Indigo-gos arrived, sans one deceased guitarist? What would Japas, who had a jam session with him just yesterday, think when he found Mikau's memorial on the beach, that was already coated with a grimy layer of sand from a couple days of outdoor exposure? What would happen when the Elder Goron's son would wait for his hero to show up and again participate in the Goron Races, only to realize that the "Darmi" he had known was merely a shade?
Link could do nothing for them. He could finish what had been started- carry out the oath he had given when he had donned the mask that contained their spirit- but he couldn't change their fate. He gave them a second chance to finish their lives on their terms- but Darmani would never fight another Dodongo, never hear the cheers of his people, the reverence of his peers. Mikau would never again play in his band, never hear the cheers of his fans, or gentle Lulu's voice. Their spirits were free from those worries- healed- but inadvertently, Link had inherited them.
The Deku Scrub, the nameless sacrifice, would never again race his father, or play the Deku Pipes for his princess. He had considered asking about him when he had met the Deku royal family- Link wanted desperately to know his name- but then again, he supposed it was of little importance. Why should it matter? He was gone, living on only in Link's shadow.
"Link, we should leave- can't you get out your instrument?" Tatl said hurriedly. Their time left on this world was measured in minutes now, but Link' gaze was fixated upon the sky.
Without a word, Link reached and pulled out the ocarina. It was second nature now- the song that had doomed his own land, which had opened the fateful gate and allowed Ganon to take the Triforce, was now the song to save this one. The notes flowed easily and carefully. He could practically hear the Goddess of Time crooning back to him- "Hero of Time, please change this world's fate."
The familiar sensation of displacement muddled his senses- but unlike those days he had spent traveling back and forth through the ages, his body didn't change. Perhaps those three days of age did change his body in a miniscule fashion, but it was unnoticeable after having been dragged and forth between childhood and adulthood so many times.
A morbid thought struck the teen- perhaps he was always meant to be stuck somewhere in the middle, never to be young but never to mature.
Perhaps he wasn't meant to stop the moon.