Follow me

Like a lamb to slaughter. Link had been taken straight to the end, and nothing could stop him. Nothing could save him. Of course, that was because he couldn't even save himself. The shadow was out there, somewhere. It had probably found the mouth of the cave by now. It was coming for him. The shadow could feel him: where he had been and where he was. The most perfect tracking: to be tied like string. Forever like a length of damned string. The tie went both ways as Link felt the darkness there at the edge of his mind. It squirmed like an itch in his head, always desperate in its advance. The darkness was coming. The darkness was always coming.

Link ran through the night, hardly breathing beneath the hard effort. His feet stabbed holes in the ground and shoved him on ahead. The night fell backward with his advance, but also stretched ahead. It was leading him along, but Link needed to go. He needed to run to reach Kakariko by morning. What would Malon think if she woke up and he was gone? Few things could be helped now, but it was possible for Link to keep back that moment of worry and confusion.

Little things were all he could accomplish. He could keep Malon from waking up afraid, but he could never wake up beside her. Link would be there for her this morning, but he would never grow old with her. They would never see another full moon together, or any stars. She always loved stars. Every one of these thoughts was like dragging his guts across gravel, but they would not stop. Link was powerless against the tide of things that would never happen.

He ran to beat the sun, and to give Malon one of the last happinesses he could. He also ran to fight down the sobs that wanted to spring out for every terrible realization. The typhoon of ragged breaths came near to deafening him, but could never fully drown out what he'd lost.

The sun was still hidden behind some low cloud or hilltop, but a grey light poured over everything despite. If Link looked, he would have been able to see the ruins of the ranch. With squinted eyes the nearly finished castle would surely be apparent. However, he didn't look for any of those. Al l that mattered was the long staircase and what lay above it. Link needed to reach that place before the sun rose completely, before Malon awoke.

Footsteps on the stone bridge boomed like the beating of some ominous drum in the silent morning air. Link hated to hear that, and to disturb all the stillness that still existed from the night before. He hated to touch the grass, and to hear his toes tap on each successive step, knowing that any of these might have been his last. The last sunrise, but that was thrown away for Malon. Link pumped his feet so as to run up the stairs. For the blood in his ears, Link could not hear his toes tapping. All he knew was the nearing end: the dangling sign which proclaimed "Kakariko Village".

As had been true when he left, the town was silent and empty. Despite the new sun rays, all of the townsfolk were hidden away in homes. Nobody existed save Link, and no building was truly real except for the inn. Link pulled the door open and rushed in. The air was slightly warmer inside, but Link could only think of this for half a moment. Only Malon mattered, and how quickly he could reach her. The staircase took him into the hallway that would take him to her.

Link approached the door and stared at it, somehow suddenly finding the time to inspect this. The door had been constructed from hard, old wood which now bore a thousand marks of age and wear. Link touched a finger to the surface and ran it across. A tale of textures ran beneath that finger, betraying the wood's great age. Yet it was still there, still alive. Link was young, but not for long.

Soon he would be dead.

There was no other possibility. Whatever he did, Link's story would end in the same tragic fashion. Mother had told him, just as Zelda had. Link's gut knew it too, since before Zelda's first word on the matter. The darkness was going to kill him. They would be safe, though. Malon would be safe because of his death, because Link would not die alone.

Thoroughly shaken, Link pulled his hand back from the cool wood and rapped once. He'd intended to knock again but, after his first firm touch, the door swung open. Dim light floated from the window. It was obscured by a heavy curtain, but still provided more than enough to reveal the scene.

Talon lay on the ground, shoved against and nearly under the bed. A burn to match Ingo's and Link's own marred the man's arm in a thin trail. Ingo lay in his bed, turned up against the wall as if simply shoved there. The whole room was in a state of disastrous dishevelment, with woods and fabrics all ruined and thrown about. Link's sword protruded from the wall just above Ingo, as if driven in by some monstrous force. It sagged at an angle, and swayed slightly with the remnants of old reverberations.

More than anything else, Link noticed Malon's absence. He looked at the bed where she'd been, but found nothing. Link dug through the blankets and pulled Talon's unconscious body aside to check beneath. She was not here, not anywhere. With every passing moment, Link's breaths grew more choked and painful. Those threatening tears began to pour in burning streams. Clipped words came out, trying to define Link's stabbing disbelief. He murmured, growled, and sobbed things like no, and please, and don't.

Most of all, he said Malon's name, as if the mere mention could send her back to him.

Even as Link flew about on tragic, tortuous wings, an old sight began to infect the views around him. Wood faded into nothing and that thin hint of sunlight grew to an awful glare. The air turned stale and sour, and it was this venom that finally pulled his attention. The transformation was nearly complete before Link saw what had been done.

Link stared around at the burning world, taking in every ancient terror it held. From the first moment of observation, Link knew he'd seen this before. He had been here so many times. This was the dead place, and the vision of his despair absolute. This sign had threatened him before, and had nearly taken him away. Link had seen the chasm here. He had known the sandman and that nameless, faceless figure of all the world's agony. He had seen those terrible eyes and felt that gaze like ice in his soul.

Now, as he stared through the torn away walls, Link knew they were one.

The outside world was burned away, all scorched earth and blackened plants from malevolent dreams. Thorns filled that decimated sand, and frail yellow bones. The sun beat down with pulsing waves which brought more pain than warmth. All of this burned Link's eyes, but none so terribly as the monolith.

There stood the hatred of everything, menace incarnate. There stood a grand darkness. And, Link realized with an assurance that always been in some form, there stood the darkness. It had followed him from the beginning, and only now was finally caught up. The darkness had been there while Ganondorf lived, and it had followed Link into Rauru's spell world. It watched and waited for so long, always reaching for the prey.

It stood across the burning world, staring from its place in the desert. The darkness did not move, for it needed no motion. That presence was enough. Link saw it there and knew where he would find it. This all-surrounding desert brought Link back to the first sight, to the sandman.

The darkness was waiting for him in the desert, and Malon was there with it. Surely she was, or else she was…

Or else she was dead. There existed no more time for denials.

This all made sense. Terrible, twisted sense. When Link left, the darkness assumed it to be flight. It wanted to kill him, or else make him suffer. He had damned it to this, so long ago, and no resurrection could be complete without vengeance. This was a sickening being, but Link had always known that. The darkness wanted nothing more than to sew agony and chaos.

With burning eyes and a tongue tasting of sand, Link awoke on the floor. His body was splayed out and his mind seemed ready to burst from throbbing, but still he forced himself up. He could not stay on the ground, not now. After a long moment he had climbed to his feet. Wretched arms wrenched his sword out from the wall, and then he was gone.

This had to end. It would go with blood, and fear, and agony, but Link was willing to pay that.

Follow me

In the end, there were only two. The pain that screamed for him to stop, and the deep drumming voice that senselessly said go on. Drums worked feet into motion, and Link had marched into the mouth of his enemy. No fire could turn him back. No fear could send him away. As he had been so long ago, upon finding himself alone in a loveless world, Link was a machine. He moved with one goal, and nothing remained in the world that could appease the fuel deep inside. Link marched into the desert, toward his own death, rather than that of the world.