Since this is my first story for fans, as a sequel to a previous story I wrote, it is going to be the first story that isn't going to be under my 'once a week update' guarantee. This is both good and bad. Good because that means whenever I write something, I'll post it, instead of waiting for the next week like I'm doing with my other stories. Bad because I could go two or three weeks without updating.

Let me know what ya'll think. ^.^ I'm glad I've made some old readers happy with this, though. Think my friend will probably scream off my ear when I tell her about it, and she doesn't even play Legend of Zelda. I think she just like's Shadow, personally. Something to do with angsty, not so angsty bad boys. *shrug* Whatever. On with the show!

Shadow

I was never one for lying to myself. When you're born alone to the world, all you have is yourself, and lying would only warp what little power over your own reality that you had.

But at that moment, stepping away from her, I dearly wanted to lie, and to believe it with all of whatever I had to call a soul. I wanted to lie and say that I didn't care, that I was better off without the temptation of a storyteller's power. I knew I would have been sorely tempted to manipulate her if she had chosen to me, and what little I understood of love told me that was wrong. How do I know this? Because you can't be created truly evil unless you understand what is good.

You can't truly hate unless you understand love.

Bastard storyteller. If only he had made me a pure to the bone, soulless monster, one that only ran around lusting for blood and hunting to satisfy its next craving. Not me. I had to see the beauty of the white before I could truly be thrust deep into the black.

And this was where I belonged. Kara didn't deserve something like me, and the weaknesses that came with me. Weaknesses, or strengths, I didn't really care to know which.

After walking away from her, didn't take me long to remember my old instincts and powers. Since my purpose was born and met in that room of mist and mirror-like-waters, I could return to it by merely wishing it. For once, I was grateful, for I could fly far away from her and that bane-of-my-life Hero in the blink of an eye to the only haven I have ever known.

It smelt as I remembered it. Of water. Of ancient, wet stone. And that bitter-spice tang of magic.

I lifted up my eyes and took in the mists, the water, and the lone tree. It always appeared the same to me. I knew it was just an empty, stone room disguised by the illusion of the Water Temple's magic, but I still preferred not seeing the walls. It would make me feel like I was in a cage, which would have probably killed me.

I breathed in the mists.

Then started screaming every profanity I had ever known.

Somewhere along the line I started throwing things, satisfying myself with pretending I saw the Hero there as I had once seen him, set on his quest, and the sole object of my purpose. I threw my shield at him, every blade on my body, and then after swinging my sword till it slipped from my filmy hands I tore off my boots and started chucking them as well.

All the while, I couldn't face the pain.

Why did he have to be so good?

I remembered making him bleed. Our fight in this room had been long and glorious. The only other time I had felt so alive was with her, flying above the clouds.

Why did I have to be the shadow?

Of course she would choose him over me. Why had I ever thought differently? She had known him far longer than me, known him as the hero, watched him in all his damn nobility and god damn righteousness and being the soft light she was, of course she would have loved him! Hell, why had I ever thought to cater to such a whim as to think she could be with me? I had chosen it, of course I had chosen it, but had Miyamoto manipulated that too? He had orchestrated all the rest of my misery, so why the hell not?

I found myself on my knees, gasping for breath, staring down at my murky reflection in the water. The white mists framed my figure, making me appear all the more black.

No, I couldn't start thinking that way. My feelings were my own. My choices were my own. That was the law of all characters, no matter the story, otherwise there would be no purpose of life for anything. If we decided everything our creations did, our children did, there would be no life. Life was agency. That was the only truth I knew of in all this. If I started doubting that now, I really would go mad.

It wasn't until I saw my face starting to blur in my reflection that I noticed the tears on my face. Even though I was as alone as I could get, I felt humiliated.

"Aw hell, you've got to be joking. It's just a damn woman. Bawling like a baby isn't going to do anything." I wiped at my face so hard my gauntlet could've scraped the skin off my cheeks. "Damn, why do I always have to wear these? Couldn't I find a better change of clothes? Maybe I should just walk around naked from now on, that might shake things up a bit."

And, in a way, it'd be like sending Link around Hyrule butt-naked, since we had the exact same bodies, which would be a hoot. Maybe I could even figure out how to dye my hair blond. Din, this idea was sounding better by the minute.

Despite the fact my eyes wouldn't stop freaking leaking, I found myself laughing. It came out hoarse from all my yelling before, but it soothed the ache within me nonetheless.

"Aw, Din, marvelous."

I pushed myself to my feet and went about collecting my things. It was definitely an idea that I liked very much, but it wouldn't be accomplishing what I had set out to do. I would just be playing off of Link's identity, like I always had, and I didn't want that anymore. I wanted my own identity.

Boots fetched, various weaponry sat on the island to dry, I leaned against the dead tree (which was solid enough for being an illusion), and dug my fingers into the sand—something I often did whenever I wanted to think.

"All right then," I said to the silence. "I'm going to need a plan of action if I'm going to become someone. What do those mindless drones do anyways? Live in houses, I suppose. Got to have a home. Can't get a house unless I have a job—and now that I think on it, can't get new clothes without a job either. Or food." While in my sanctuary in the Water Temple, all my bodies needs were put on hold, as though time were stilled, and I had no need for food, sleep, or even a bathroom. Further testament that I wasn't made to be human. Outside, fortunately, was a different story.

"Okay, so a job." I nodded to myself, rubbing my face hard with my gauntlet again. Damn wussy, girly tears. It made my face hurt. "All right...job..."

How did you get those anyways?

Damn it.