Okay, so this story is almost over... I'm thinking two or three more chapters, and then we're done! I have a few ideas for the next fanfiction story I'll do and I've put them on a poll on my profile, so... be sure to check it out and let me know what YOU want to see! (All of them will eventually get done; it's just a matter of when!) Enjoy this next chapter!
21. In Darkness
Link was consumed by the uncanny sensation of drifting. Sometimes he was nothing, all dark numb nothingness; other times his senses solidified enough for him to discern vague colors, sounds, tastes… and of course, pain. Time did not exist. Thoughts and dreams did not exist. At times, Link doubted that he even existed.
Eventually, however, his mind sharpened and did not recede into blackness again. Slowly, like the sun rising over a foggy bay and bringing light to a black world, he became fully aware of himself. Of his body, nearly bare beneath soft blankets, resting upon a nearly solid mattress. Of the gentle odor of a scented candle wafting through the still, silent air, of his mouth that tasted like blood and foul herbs. He could feel tight bandages around his chest and and wrists and thigh and sides, but the pain in those areas… was not as bad as it had been before.
I've been out of it for a while, he realized. But this time, at least, he could remember much of what had happened before the nothingness—the Yiga, the lynel, Khoga's death, the battle…
And he remembered remembering his death. Farore… that was horrible. The end of my life. But I'm… still here…
Link swallowed tightly. A difficult task, with his throat as dry as it was. When was the last time I've had anything to drink?
He blinked slowly; even that tiny movement took much of the little strength that remained in his body. His limbs ached with weakness; his stomach burned with emptiness. It must have been a long time…
His foggy mind just barely discerned that he'd croaked that last word out loud. But Khana's joyful voice came across loud and clear.
"Link!"
A familiar warmth descended gently upon him, enfolding him within a cozy embrace. "Khana," he rasped, relief scouring his heart. She was safe. She was here. She was… kissing him.
Link closed his eyes, moaning softly in contentment as he mustered his strength to kiss her back. This… is a nice moment.
"It's been five weeks," she told him breathlessly, finally pulling away. "By all rights… you shouldn't be alive."
"The goddesses wouldn't take me," he whispered, barely moving his lips and remembering his strange dream of the Sacred Realm, Farore admitting that she'd played a part in keeping him alive.
"Good," Khana smiled grimly. "I… I haven't prayed that hard… in a long time." She inhaled shakily, reaching over to grasp his hand. Which, he noticed, was free from Khoga's despicable cuffs, though his wrist was heavily bandaged. Khana noticed his glance. "Ohnga searched the kingdom for days before she found someone who could remove them. A Sheikah scientist named Robbie, who claimed to know you from… before. He'd developed what he called an Ancient Bladesaw; it cut through the manacles, although… it did do some damage to your wrists."
"Can barely feel it now," he rasped with a feeble grin.
Khana nodded. "It was a long, difficult battle that we fought to keep you alive," she murmured. "I… didn't know if you could make it more than a few days. Thank Farore you did…"
She kissed him again, tears trickling down her face. Yes, Link thought. Thank Farore.
As his strength gradually began to return, Link worked hard to build the muscle he'd lost from five weeks of doing nothing. Riju allowed him the use of her warriors' training grounds at night, after everyone else had gone. It was there that he realized more had changed with his eyes than just their color—he could see in the darkness, objects and shadows and even some colors in sharp definition. Khana told him that his pupils, heavily dilated, reflected light the way a beast's did.
Though her word choice had been much less… dehumanizing.
She trained with him every night; at first, despite his heightened nightvision, she disarmed him every round. But as his strength returned, each bout lasted longer and longer, until at last he was the one winning nearly every round.
During those battles, he could forget, for a little while at least, that he was a monster, a creature whose life had begun only a few months ago, a lost soul with dreamlike flashes of memories that once belonged to him.
Memories of a father. Of a princess. Of death.
He realized, from those few glimpses of his past, that he had not changed. He was still the same person, perhaps a little bolder, perhaps a little stronger. His essential traits were the same, and that knowledge brought him peace. His personality had no holes.
"What are you thinking about?" Khana asked softly, her feet crunching softly on the sand as she made her way to the rock he perched upon.
"I'm ready to move on," he murmured, gazing with crimson eyes up at the moon. "And not just from the desert, although… I'm ready to leave that as well."
She sat down beside him and curled an arm around his waist, tucking her head beneath his chin. Link wrapped his arms around her, marvelling at how perfectly she fit in his embrace. With a soft sigh he rested her head against hers.
"I've been given a second chance," he continued. "What happened before… happened before. A hundred years ago. The Princess and I, and perhaps a few of the Sheikah, are the only ones left of that time. Trying to remember what happened then… what's the point? The Hyrule that I once knew, and the people that I once knew, cannot be reclaimed. And… I don't need those memories to know who I am—I've been able to learn that on my own." He inhaled deeply at those words, finally spoken out loud; his heart hammered loudly beneath Khana's cheek.
"I know who I am," he whispered. "I'm alive now; I'm creating new memories, and a new life… now. I can do nothing to change the past, Khana. I can't bring back those who died, or stop Ganon from arising. There's nothing I can do to change the past."
"But I can still fix some things. I have the chance to do things again, to do it better, to… to succeed this time." He smiled softly, feeling freedom buoy his heart. "Someday, perhaps… I might try to remember my past. I… I know it's selfish of me not to remember now, and not honor the memories of those who died because I have no memory to—"
"Link," Khana interrupted, looking up at him. "You are not selfish. Not in the slightest. The world has been unfairly cruel to you; I think it's best, for your sanity if nothing else, that you leave the past where it belongs."
"But—"
She shook her head. "It's like you said," she murmured. "You're alive now. Not then. What matters most is what you choose to do with your life right now."
His heart warmed with love; he bent down and pressed his lips to hers in a deep kiss, Khana tangling her fingers in his snowy white hair and breathing him in.
They left Gerudo City the following dawn, before the sun arose. The Thunderhelm was stored safely in the Gash, loaned to them with the understanding that they would free Vah Naboris after Vah Ruta was appeased. The Sheikah Slate, too, was returned to them; after bringing Robbie to the desert and taking him back to Akkala when Link's wrists were free, Ohnga had journeyed to Karusa Valley to bring the imprisoned members of the Yiga Clan to face the justice of the Gerudo. Among their stolen treasures she'd discovered the Sheikah Slate and quickly handed it over to her sister's care. Now it hung from Link's belt.
The rest of their supplies were also stored in the Gash. Food, water, a tent, bedrolls, a change of clothes for each of them, and weapons other than the broadsword Link bore across his back and the scimitar strapped to Khana's thigh… there was nothing more that they could think of that they needed. They set out into the lightening desert, east into the rising sun.
Ohnga had assured them that winter had fallen upon Hyrule; Link had hoped that the desert's heat would be tempered. But even before the sun breached the rim of cliffs in the distance, he felt sweat breaking out upon his brow. It's just my clothing, he told himself, glancing briefly downwards. Ashamed of the black scars littering his torso, he was loathe to change into the desert attire provided by Kachoo so long ago; instead he wore a long-sleeved black tunic and long trousers. Perhaps not the best choice for the desert.
For a few hours, he tried to endure the sun's glare. But by midday, engulfed in a sweltering vise of sweat, he succumbed to desperation.
"Kh-Khana?" he began, as the two of them sat in the shade of a small stand of palms around a tiny spring, eating a small meal of nuts and dried meat. "Erm… do you have that, uh, voe armor in the Gash?"
She looked surprised. "I think so," she replied, reaching a hand into the shadow world and rummaging around for a moment. "Just a moment… Here." She pulled out a bundle of cloth and metal and handed it to him. Confusion scrunched her brows.
"Thanks," Link said, cheeks warming slightly as he took the clothes and hurried to the other side of the trees. Quickly he pulled off his tunic, boots, and trousers, replacing them with the armor Kachoo had given him. Then he returned to Khana's side.
She raised an eyebrow at him, looking concerned. "Were you… hot?"
Link blinked rapidly. "You weren't?"
Khana shook her head. "I've always thought that desert winters actually feel quite pleasant. Even though they look just as barren as ever."
"Maybe you're just more accustomed to it," Link said, sitting down beside her. His heart was sinking. He didn't exactly know why.
Khana was still staring at him. "Link, it's… only eighty degrees or so."
A thrill shot through him. "Wh-what? No. It… it has to be at least in the hundreds…" He slid the Sheikah Slate from his belt. Seventy-seven degrees. A cold finger curled around his heart. "That… that can't be right…"
It couldn't. He was burning up; he was drenched in perspiration. It couldn't be such a… a… normal temperature. It just wasn't possible.
Khana pressed the back of her hand to his forehead. "Your skin is too warm," she noted anxiously. "Do you feel nauseous? Are you sore? Do you feel fatigued at all?"
"No," he protested. "And I know I'm not dehydrated…"
Khana looked worried. She got to her feet and headed back to Mist. "We need to get out of here."
Link swallowed thickly and followed her to his horse—their horse?—and climbed up into the saddle. She slid up behind him, arms automatically curling around his torso. There's something very wrong about this, he thought.
Despite the more ventilated attire, he barely felt any difference from before as they set out again. Sweat glistened upon his shoulders and matted his hair; his skin felt almost as if it were on fire, although it didn't darken with sunburn. Is there something wrong with me? I should not be feeling this heat! Perhaps… because he was no longer Hylian, but a… a monster… perhaps that negated the armor's effect. Fantastic.
The sun pressed down around him, holding his head in a stifling vise. It reflected off of the white sand, sending daggers of pain through his eyes and giving him a splitting headache. He found himself longing for the comforting shadows of night, so gentle on his eyes.
He drifted through a haze of discomfort, his skin on fire and damp with sweat, nearly blind as he peered through his lashes. Only when the sun began to set and twilight descended did he finally feel at ease. The flames left his skin and his eyes adjusted quickly to the encroaching darkness; the pain fled.
Link turned to Khana as they dismounted, still quite some distance from the Kara Kara Bazaar. "I think I know what's wrong," he told her softly. "I'm… a dark creature. A beast of the night. The ritual in the moon chamber completely changed my body, from something well-adapted to living in daylight… to something exactly the opposite." A monster. Although, he admitted to himself, not all monsters were nocturnal. Bokoblins and moblins, for instance.
Khana smiled gently at him. "I'd take night over day any time," she noted, tracing a line in the sand with her toe. "I've always preferred the shelter of shadow."
Link squinted at her. "I… what are you saying…?"
"So you're nocturnal," she shrugged, looking deep into his eyes. "Then I'll be nocturnal too."
Link's shoulders sagged. I don't think it's that simple! "But—you're a Hylian, like—like I was! It's against your—"
She raised a finger to his lips, her head tilted to the side. "My grandfather was Sheikah, on my mother's side," she explained. "Ohnga met him once, before I was born. And Sheikah are the shadow folk—I'm certain I can adapt." She took a step closer, eyes narrowed and determined. "Besides that… I love you. I'm not about to let a simple thing like you being nocturnal keep me away from you."
She's treating this much too lightly, he thought, swallowing tightly. His heart softened. Because she doesn't want me to feel bad about it. He reached a hand out as if to touch her face but hesitated halfway there, hand suspended in midair. She's… given up so much on my behalf.
Too much. His heart sank and he let his hand fall back to his side. Her family, her way of life, everything she's ever known… Why?
Because she loves you just as much as you love her, you idiot, scolded a voice in his head. When will you learn?
He cleared his throat. "Well, then… we should keep going tonight. We can walk beside Mist and let her have a break; then in the morning we can stop and rest."
Khana looked slightly disappointed, but she nodded and they continued their dreary voyage across the moonlit world. If not for the cacti, Link thought that the silver-bathed sand would have looked exactly like snow, complete with the cruel, icy temperature that froze everything in its path. A frosty wind whistled over the dunes and he changed back into his dark tunic, more suited for the chill, and they walked until dawn before setting up their tent and falling quickly asleep, all three of them weary from the hours and hours of constant travel.
After two more nights they reached the towering sandstone walls of Gerudo Canyon. Passing the stable, they continued onwards until they came across a pack of mounted stalkoblins riding ghostly skeletal horses. The reanimated spirits of the monsters that Link had killed to save Mist, though he had no idea—and did not want to know—where they'd gotten the stalhorses.
"Look! It's a bad guy!" one of them rasped, nudging his horse clattering forward. "C'mon, guys! Get 'em!"
Link swallowed thickly, feeling sick at the realization that he could understand these creatures just as he understood the lynel.
Except these aren't communicating mind-to-mind. Weird.
Stop! he sent out, just as he'd done before.
The bokoblin pulled up short. "What the… hey, buddy! What are you?"
"He doesn't belong," another snarled, walking his horse closer. "Doesn't smell like us. Doesn't smell like the other one, either!"
"Link?" Khana whispered in his ear. "What's going on?"
We're just passing through, he told the monsters. We mean you no harm. Leave us alone!
"Master said to kill ones like you," a bokoblin grunted, picking its nose before apparently remembering it was a skeleton and studying its fingers, disappointed. "Said they were bad guys!"
"And they fight and kill us, too," another added sadly. "So… we fight back!"
We don't want to fight you, Link promised. Let us pass in peace!
The bokoblins tilted their heads, considering. But a low rumble shook the ground, like the growl of a beast the size of a mountain. The moon flickered to red. The stalkoblins' eyes flickered to a deep crimson and they snarled. Pain closed around Link's heart and he stopped breathing, feeling the blood moon's Malice choking him.
Enemy, a fearsome voice rumbled in his mind, and he clutched at his head, unable to draw breath. Enemy! Enemy!
He could not draw breath. The strength fled from his limbs and he tumbled like a bag of rocks from Mist's back, seeing double as Malice scoured his mind… No!
Everything went dark.
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