From the moment you sent me back in time to perhaps two or three years after I returned from my journey, no longer a man but not a child either, things were looking bright. The so hated Gerudo alliance was finally working out after the sudden disappearance of Ganondorf Dragmire, their sole male and hence leader. Without even so much as a discord Nabooru had swiftly and quietly accepted her place as queen of the Gerudo and the road between the two countries was finally open for more than just men and stolen goods.

My own life however wasn't that grand. You may have heard that my journey took me to faraway countries like Termina, that I am known as the Hero of the moon there, but I wasn't the one to tell you. Except for the sole time you and I met again, in that cursed courtyard you seem to love so much, I haven't seen the likes of you in anything other than a dream or memory. That day you made it perfectly clear that though you could tolerate "hanging out" with me once, you'd have my green garbed ass arrested if I approached you again, armed or unarmed. Little as you were back then, with eyes as deep as the ocean itself, you weren't intimidated by the mean angry butter knife I called the kokiri sword. You were the princess and you were in charge. No funny dreams made you see the errors of your way this time around.

That day left its marks on me, in a place where I thought I could no longer get hurt. I saw so much, witnessed so much, yet the barely contained dislike of someone who used to be the very reason why I was still alive, why I was still holding on, broke me. From that day on, I never felt the same again.

None of the friends I made during my journey to save the world bothered to remember me. To them, I was just a boy dressed in green, running around searching far and wide for a fairy many believed had never existed in the first place.

I can still remember the day I went to visit Malon "for old times sake". It was pretty obvious she didn't remember me as she started our conversation the exact same way as she had started it the first time we met. Only this time, her father hadn't fallen asleep while delivering milk to the castle. This time, I wasn't the fairy boy she met at the market square, I was just a random visitor at their ranch who strangely carried a huge amount of rupees on me for someone so young.

I was no one important.

And I would never life up to be the knight in shining armour to sweep you off your feet.

Termina of course brought me nothing but more nightmares (when I actually dared to sleep), more scars no one would ever see and more desperation. You see, in a way it was like Hyrule all over again. But this time , I didn't have sevens years, no, I had to save the world in only three days, reliving my failure each and every time I had to turn back time.

Did you know? As the sage of time you surely should have felt something, at least, I think you should have if someone so obviously triggering a time paradox over and over again. Especially when it was you who gave me the ocarina, when it was you who taught me the song used in time travelling.

One day I was a hero in the eyes of the people of Termina. I had helped them in their personal little side quests, helped them retrieve the mask needed to get married, saved one's eggs from the pirates, only to have them forget all about me the next time around. Because I didn't have the time to safe everyone.

I watched as Lulu looked at me with those hopeful eyes, thinking I was Mikau, who had died on the beach trying to save their children. If I was standing here, looking uncanny much like him, he couldn't be dead, could he?

My heart broke for her, for their children and there wasn't anything I could do to help them. Mikau's death was beyond my control.

One of the worst moments in Termina was when I met the Deku King's Butler. Each and every mask has its own history you see. It didn't start out as just wood, no, each mask had its own life, its own family, and its own love. Each and every mask ripped away for it so I could become them in order to save the world. You ask me why meeting the butler was my worst experience? My mask had been his son, and suddenly I had a father.

Many times I turned back time to bask in fatherly love only to be stricken with guilt at what I was doing to the poor man. I wasn't his son, he would never come back and I was barely a replacement if any. Yet this was the closest I had ever come to a family and it hurt to give it up.

By the time I came back to Hyrule (which would be close to two years after you've sent me back in time) I was a changed man. I had simply seen too much, felt too much and I saved the bloody world while I was already broken from the first time around. An emptiness so deep, so hollow filled my chest and filled my mind with hateful thoughts.

Even though Hyrule itself was experiencing a time of prosperity, the citizens of Hyrule castle town didn't receive their fair share of it. The population in certain areas had grown so dramatically that in order to provide enough food for their children, fathers had started looking for work in the capital. At first, they had been welcome, but as time went on, the people of Castle town had nothing to offer to the many who followed their hopes and dreams. It wasn't that uncommon to see men sleeping in the back alleys of the market, nor was it that uncommon to see people wearing barely anything but rags.

The people of Hyrule's suffering was brought on by their own prosperity. How ironic.

In the mean time, the elite of Hyrule, mostly meaning the royal families and their nobles, acted as if nothing was wrong. Banquettes large enough to feed the whole population of Castle town were thrown away on a whim, even though their people were starving.

I was one of the lucky ones. My new attitude and appearance soon caused everyone to either fear me or leave me alone. Add the fame (that somehow reached Hyrule in ways I don't know nor care about) of saving Termina and it mixed into a privileged position on the streets. Pretty soon, around the time things started to go downhill, I had worked up enough money (through ways I prefer not to talk about) to buy a place I could call home.

Around that time, I started to attract the attention of many noblemen's daughters. I'm not saying this to be vain, but I wasn't the same innocent cute looking boy who had stumbled in your courtyard unwanted. I had had my share of battles and I had had my share of pain and many scars littered my once smooth skin. The most obvious scar is in plain sight, which ironically limits my line of sight.

I'll never be able to see perfectly with that eye again.

But as I look at you, look at your perfect porcelain face, I can see that you don't give a damn about anything I've just said.

You're guilty, that's what you are