The moon eclipsed the reddened sky. Backward and forward, never still, the clock turned, and the shadows changed. Behind every stone stood a friend or ally or stranger, each pleading with desperate eyes. And kneeling before them, he cried out, begging for something they could not lend.

The sun bordered the horizon when Tatl returned, yet Link hadn't moved from when she'd last seen him. He sat holding his ocarina with both hands, eyes cast downward.

"So," she began, "it's getting late. We should probably head back to Clock Town." Their second day was coming to a close. It was hard to believe they had come this far. But it wasn't over yet, and they had to prepare for the coming fight. Link needed to rest up while he had the chance, and as far as she was concerned, it was her job to make sure the kid did just that. He would go out of his way to help people, but he was so forgetful of his own needs. She wondered how he had ever managed to take care of himself on his own.

She reined in her meandering thoughts when she noticed that Link still hadn't moved. Had he even heard her? "Um, Link?" He was just sitting there, staring at his instrument. The few other times she'd seen him hold his ocarina without playing, he'd claimed that it helped him revisit memories. This time she could see it was for a very different reason. She could tell from that look in his eyes—not a distracted air of daydreaming but rather a foreign melancholy.

"After tomorrow," Link said, his voice barely a whisper, "after we stop Skull Kid and return the mask, the Song of Time won't work anymore, will it?"

Tatl faltered for a moment. Why would he even want to rewind time once they were finished? And why ask her of all people? "How should I know? I've told you before, I'm not an expert on magic flutes and time travel."

Link seemed to accept that as an answer, going on to share his own. "I don't think it will."

For the first time, she thought about such a scenario—about the possibility of using the Song of Time on the day of the carnival—and decided that he was probably right. "Well, it makes sense. You said that it's the Goddess of Time helping us. She intervenes whenever you play the song, right? If that's really the case, then once Termina is saved, there's no reason to start over." She still wasn't quite sure where this was headed.

"Then two days from now, everything we did will be permanent." A statement, not a question, although it lingered in the air, as if waiting for confirmation.

The fairy shrugged, bobbing a little in the air. "I guess so. Isn't that the point?" He didn't answer, but his words sparked a realization. The truth was hidden in the omission. It wasn't what they did that worried him.

It was what they didn't do.

"Tatl." When he lifted his head, she could see tears in his eyes. "There's not enough time."

There it was. The questions, his demeanor—she finally understood. The pixie alighted on the boy's knee, no longer feeling very much like flying.

Link and Tatl had plenty of time. They had all the time in the world, in fact. But in the end, Termina only had three days. History was and would forever be immutable. Nothing before yesterday's dawn could be altered, and nothing after could be preserved between cycles. Only the divine realms lay untouched by their temporal manipulations. That had been their ticket to freeing the Giants. When Link played the Song of Time, everything else was reset. Termina's struggles began anew, over and over, persisting until the dawn of the fourth day, their time limit to stop the moon. And seventy-two hours wasn't much time at all. Not when hundreds of people throughout Termina were calling for help. They could only travel so fast. They could only sleep so little.

As the tears began down his cheeks, he wiped at them and tried to hold back. And Tatl found no way to comfort him. All she could do was be the voice of reason.

"Link, you can't save everyone."

He shook his head, as if it were a suggestion rather than fact. "I have to try, don't I?"

"No, you don't," she countered. "These people aren't your responsibility."

"But I'm the only one who can help them. I can't just ignore them."

Reassuring speeches weren't exactly her forte. Still, she had to make him understand, so she kept trying. "You're not ignoring them. You're fighting for them. But even you can't be everywhere at once. We have to pick our battles wisely."

"What about Lulu's children?" he asked with a sniff. "What about the monkey and the Deku princess? They'll die without me. What about the Goron elder? Or Romani and Pamela and—" His voice caught in his throat, and he didn't continue.

The list went on and on. There were so many others, so many citizens of Termina whose lives had once been changed by an unlikely hero, only for his deeds to be undone the very next time around.

"Link, listen to me," she implored. "Let's pretend that it's possible. You run around day and night, fighting monsters and rescuing people. Even if you're successful, what happens then? How will you face Skull Kid when you can barely stay awake?" She tried her hardest to keep the frustration from her voice. She really tried. But didn't he understand? Couldn't he see that his charity might get him killed?

"I don't know. We'll figure something out." His fingers gripped the instrument tighter. "There has to be a way, right?"

She knew what he wanted to hear. He was waiting for her to tell him he was doing the right thing. He was looking for some assurance that he shouldn't give up, because Link never gave up. But this was a battle he couldn't win.

Afraid to answer honestly, Tatl could only ask, "Isn't saving the world enough?"

He stared at her as the words sank in. Then his body began to tremble, and he slowly looked away. With his ocarina in his left hand, he folded his arms and buried his head in his knees, Tatl flying out of the way to give him space. At last, he began to truly cry.

He remained like that for minutes on end, hunched over and pouring out his anguish as the fairy looked on, helpless to console him. He cried and cried, and Tatl could feel her heart breaking. She wished she could take back those words. She wished she could give him hope, just like he'd given her. She just didn't know what to say. She never did.

Stopping the moon, defeating Skull Kid—to Link, that would never be enough. Even now, the Gorons were still freezing to death. The Deku were still withering from thirst. The Zora were still falling sick and being preyed upon. Four curses, but only three days. They had all the time in the world, yet none at all.

His cries continued as the setting sun drained the sky of its colors, but Tatl waited patiently, wondering just how long he had kept this bottled up. It was nearly dark when Link's choked sobs finally began to subside. He wiped at his bloodshot eyes with his wrist and then stubbornly shook his head.

"I can't do it, Tatl."

"Link." She spoke gently, more gently than she had ever addressed him, with more care and understanding than she'd once thought herself capable of. The bitter truth needed to be said. "We can't keep going back."

Another sniffle. Another shake of his head. "Just give me two more weeks. Please."

Tatl dimmed at the request. He was asking for more time. An extra two weeks of dashing around, trying to be everything to everyone. Wearing himself thin, both physically and emotionally. The last thing she wanted to do was permit such a reckless venture. Not when everyone's lives, especially his own, weighed in the balance.

But try as she might, Tatl couldn't bring herself to say no. It wouldn't be fair to him. From the very beginning, their efforts to halt the moon had been a strenuous, thankless endeavor. After all he had done—for Termina, for her—after everything he had endured, Link deserved the opportunity to save the world his way. She couldn't take that decision from him.

And if she had to be honest with herself, she needed a little more time as well.

"Okay, Link," she said. "Two weeks."

They had to move on eventually. They couldn't keep going as they were, avoiding what was to come, hiding within those never-ending days. But for now, she thought, maybe they could. Just for now.

Link rubbed away the last of his tears, and Tatl saw the faintest hint of a smile. "Thank you, Tatl. Thank you."

Nothing else was said. The course was set. At the end of the two weeks, Tatl would try to convince Link to take some time off, to rest and prepare for their fight with Skull Kid. But for the time being, she simply hoped that Link might find his answers in the days ahead. And she prayed that, whatever choices he made, they would both live to remember them.

Link stood and gathered his belongings as Tatl perched on his shoulder. Then, ocarina in hand, he closed his eyes and played the Song of Time, its enigmatic workings spiriting them away, returning them to the Clock Tower and to the dawn of the first day.

The End


AN: Well there it is! My first ever finished and published fanfiction. What should have been a very brief proofreading of the second chapter turned into hours of hacking and rearranging and outright deleting. I hope it turned out okay in the end. In that same vein, the title was improvised, changed roughly an hour prior to publishing after remaining the same for months. So frustrating.

But anyway, thank you all for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this story as much as I did. If you care to, let me know your thoughts. The good, the bad, anything I can improve on for next time. I have quite a few more stories in the works following our precocious Hero of Time. Some of them will actually be happy, too! Take care, and hope to see you next time!