Link's eyes stung. They felt three sizes too big and full of needles. He could barely breathe through his nose without it making a wet, pitiful noise. His whole head throbbed and pounded while his thoughts whirled around and moved so fast he might as well have not been thinking, just standing there in an empty void.

Goddesses, Saran. Link didn't know if she was okay. Did he want to know if she was okay? His hands curled around his neck ever tighter, looking for some form of solace. Or maybe he wanted to choke himself. He just about killed her, after all, it would only be fair to even the scales for a proper price.

Goddesses, this was his fault.

It echoed in his head.

His fault...

His fault...

The metallic stench of blood on his tunic hadn't left and it still wafted in and out of his nostrils. He trembled in memory of the last time he had seen and felt and touched the red liquid in this quantity. It was too fresh. Too crisp on the cloth, too dark. Too red, too wet, too unclean, too damning.

Link wasn't sure if he could think of anything else. His fingers pressed at the nape of his neck, trying to embed themselves in his spine. Maybe he could grow roots and rot here, right where he deserved. He closed his eyes, but couldn't cry a single tear more. He could barely breathe, his stomach was in braided knots, and perhaps that's just how he wanted it. Staring at the empty betrayal of Saren's gaze as sword sliced through her flesh and sapped away her life.

Link's nails clawed at his neck. He couldn't even see the blood on his hands but it was there. It was there, he knew it he could feel it he could pull them in front of his face and they'd be wet and dripping violence.

The guards outside his cell chatted in the dead silence of night.

"He was so... reasonable."

"People change. He's been away from us long enough to be different."

"But hurting Saran?"

"Well, I doubt either of them would attack each other without reason... Goddess, I hope Saran pulls out alright."

"As do I."

Link's hand went to his face, pressing his palm painfully into his eye and whining, "Don't take her away... I didn't mean it..."

One guard shook her head, "Poor boy... He's lost it..."

Link leaned against the wall. It was cold, hard stone. He pressed his hand to his mouth, murmuring into it, "Please... you gave her life... don't have me reap it, please..."

The guards watched him in pitying silence. One nudged the other, gesturing at Link's apparent insanity.

Link heard footsteps, and they only got fainter. Link rocked a little more, whispering, "I barely understand why you chose me... but it was not to kill the people I love. Please let Saran live. Please... If you're going to listen to me at all listen now."

Goddesses he was choking on it now. He could barely breathe and everything tasted like rust. He looked for water, but only found a dirty puddle in the corner. Not an ideal source. He realized how empty the night air was and how much of it had seeped into his bones. He sighed and a small cloud was born.

Link watched it, and delicately held out his hand to the small cluster of vapor. It vanished, and Link blew out a puff of breath again, watching it dissipate. He curled back up and shivered. He closed his eyes and tried to think of some sort of warmth. The caverns were blistering hot. He could still feel the thick layers of sweat washing down his cheeks. Then there was the dry season days of his youth.

He was thirsty. Mother said that he had to wait until he absolutely had to drink, it saved water that way. More water for everyone, and everyone was better than just one. A single grain of sand never made a dune.

Link didn't know how he lapsed into reminiscing. He only abruptly stopped, opening his eyes again.

Raetalis would undoubtedly not believe him if he ever said he came from a place where water was scarce. Malon might sympathize. Might. His mind wandered back over to Gorons: did they even need water?

Water.

Blood.

Where was the difference?

Link's fingers combed through his hair. He rubbed his swollen eyes in an effort to stop feeling their mournful buzz. His head was heavy and throbbing. He glanced down at his tunic, and leaned back to pull at the fabric. Bile rose at the dark brown splotches and he dropped the wad of cloth as if it was on fire.

The nausea was too much, and for the first time in hours Link moved; which in this case was scrambling to the puddle to dry heave. The ground scraped against his knees. His breaths carved ripples into the water. Link tried to stem the urge to vomit, knowing that nothing would actually come up, but it just wouldn't go.

He stared at the puddle, and after a moment he blinked. Slowly. Trying to understand what was happening. It wouldn't sink in. It couldn't sink in. His hands pressed into the small pool, and the sensation was almost foreign to him. Cold and wet but so soothing. Everything was so heavy, but for a moment Link could imagine that just maybe he was floating.

The reflection that watched was tired and weary. His blue eyes remained drooping and puffy red, and strands of straw recklessly hung over his pallid face. He looked young. Too young, but also far too old.

Behind him was the moon, and Link turned around to raise his head to the window high above. It was large and white and gentle, set against the blue sky with the same dusting of stars as Hyrule. It was light enough out for him to realize dawn was almost here. He stood, walking back to the bench he had wasted away the hours on and standing on it to get closer. He could almost reach the window, and could feel the wind trickling in with the dry scent of the desert.

To his surprise he recognized the wildflowers of Hyrule, or maybe he was just imagining things. He watched the stars, wondering if Malon was up yet, wondering if she was seeing the same dots of light. Who in Hyrule was up at this hour? Was Ganondorf already there? Likely. All too likely. He glanced at his left hand- even after all this time it lacked its glove. The Triforce sat upon the bare skin, almost like it was burned into him. A brand. A promise he never made, but now had long accepted.

He pressed his forehead to the stone, "Saran... I am so sorry. Please live. Please forgive me. Forgive that your precious oasis had tainted water for you to drink." He let the words linger in the air, then backed away and got off his bench.

Link walked over to the bars, peering down the hall for his things. He also checked his pockets but as expected they were empty, and his satchels and bags were understandably gone as well. His things were too far away for him to reach, which lead him to backing up and pausing to think. Absently, he pulled out his left glove and tugged it back on.

Link was troubled getting back into this mindset, especially when grief was still so fresh. He took a deep breath. More people than Saran could get hurt if he stayed here. He could save the people of Hyrule, then come back to beg for forgiveness.

He went to the wall beneath the window and felt for dips and edges. There was tiny, tiny places to put his hands and feet, but he could use them if he was careful. He scrambled at the stone, and managed to get his fingertips to the window before slipping. He stood and tried again, getting farther, but falling just the same. By the time he actually got through the window, gold was already appearing in the sky.

He skirted along the roof to avoid the guards, and ducked back in through a window. Instead of a hallway he found another cell, but this one was thankfully unlocked. He grabbed everything- bombs, boomerang, clawshot, whip, but his sword was missing. Both of them, actually. He looked everywhere he could, then nodded with the grim realization they were likely in the armory.

Link poked his head out. A few guards, maybe he could slink through.

He pulled out his clawshot and aimed for the armory door, then some crates nearby upon realizing the door was likely too far away. In a rush of air he was dragged over, and he paused in the shadows to let everyone think that maybe that was just a particularly loud gust of wind instead of an 18-year old boy being dragged by one arm by a chain. He worked the metal claws out of the crate, tucked the clawshot back up, looked around for good measure, and darted into the armory.

His finger silently rolled over spears and scimitars, muttering breaths accompanying it. Standard issue weapons met his eyes time after time, but he had to find his own things- With a small "aha!" he grabbed his scimitar. Now all that was left was the Master Sword. He looked over the armory once more before covering his mouth in thought. The Master Sword wasn't here, so where could it be? Thrown out as some useless Hylian relic? Still in the temple?

Still in the temple, Link decided with a small nod.

He turned to leave, but not before catching sight of a bow and quiver bursting with arrows leaning against the wall. The bow was standard, simply made with the only adornment being carvings, and the quiver was only a primitive- yet practical -container for the Guay-fletched arrows. Link counted them, and was stunned at the number approaching 50.

He grabbed the bow, noting the heft, giving the string a quick pluck to check its condition. He found his hand wandering over the grooves in the curved wood, perhaps seeking comfort. The grip rested in his hand as if it had been there this entire time.

Link closed his eyes, frowning with bittersweet regret already as he slung the quiver onto his back.

He ran out, and after a quick assessment of his surroundings he scrambled up onto the roof. He quietly drew an arrow and searched for a proper place to make a distraction. He fired an arrow at a wall out of the way of his planned route, and while the guards weren't looking he sprinted back to the temple.

This time Link wasted no time with nostalgia and headed straight for where he left the sword. He opened the doors to the central chamber with the expectation that it had moved, but to his mild surprise the Master Sword was exactly where he had left it.

Blood and all.

Link's knees gave out at the sight. It had mostly been cleaned but the stain lingered. He covered his mouth and tried to ignore his stomach wringing itself to death. "Saran..." he whispered. Link rocked himself back and forth for a few moments to try and let the panic pass, but it kept ringing in his head. He finally closed his eyes, grabbed the Master Sword, and ran out of the chamber.

He slid down the door with a long, shaky sigh. He kept his eyes closed, trying to find a piece of calm or happiness to cling to. Eventually he found himself finding comfort in the steady thrum of the sacred blade in his hands, feeling it throb in his bones in a gentle heartbeat, a tranquil lullaby. He looked down at the blade, noting how it glowed in the dim light. The yellow gem winked at him.

Link gently held it closer to him, cradling it. He'd hurt with this sword, but now he was going to protect with it. He promised himself then and there he wouldn't harm anyone with it. He shook his head. No more hurt. No more.

He tucked the Master Sword haphazardly in one belt and left the temple. The bow came in handy for several more distractions, and focusing on keeping his hand steady gave him something far less troubling to think of. If he found any spare arrows he picked them right back up and tucked them back in the quiver.

His hands ran over sandstone and stucco, lingering for a moment longer than they should have as he slipped through his home in the early morning light. He could feel the packed earth beneath his feet give ever so slightly, as if the land itself was begging him to stay.

Eventually stone became hay, and Link's hands grabbed Epona's reins. As he expected, the mare was well taken care of here. "You don't belong here, though..." Link whispered. Epona knickered in agreement. He rubbed her muzzle, continuing to murmur, "Right, right... shh, we gotta get you back home, which means you need to be quiet." Link glanced, and noticed the sun was beginning to rise.

The Great Fairy said dawn.

"Never mind you need to gallop!" Link cried. He hopped on and spurred Epona onward as fast as she could go. He heard yells as his fellows realized what was going on, but he only leaned into Epona and hissed, "Faster, faster!"

He doubted they would actually fire anything at him, but soon enough arrows were becoming a trail left in his midst. The gates began closing. People were yelling. Epona's hoofbeats were thunder in his ears and her mane was damp with sweat.

Link's shoulder bumped against the gate just as they passed through. He glanced over his shoulder to see the whole tribe watching him leave in a clamor too muddled to make out: were they mad? concerned? Link couldn't tell.

"I'M SORRY!" He yelled back. He didn't know what else to say. A thief and maybe even a murderer. Perhaps they should have never raised him. Perhaps fate would play a kinder, gentler hand if that was so.

As the Great Fairy promised, in the flap of a hawk's wing Epona was running through tall green grass. Link kept staring back at the rapidly diminishing desert, trying to see if anyone had heard his apology. He eased up his grip on Epona to see if he still had his things, but the wind carried something that irritated his eyes and the smell of smoke was within the breeze.

Link lifted his head to see Hyrule Castle and its surrounding town in flames.


AHHH sorry this as been updated on AO3 for awhile I completely forgot to put it up here!

anyways there's like 2ish more chapters! and sorry I haven't been on here much I'm mostly kinda moving on from this one because while I got a lot of good stuff and followers I just don't have much energy to update this site and AO3 and like... a whole bunch of other reasons I can't really explain? This also has a lot of embarrassingly bad writing so like, there's that.

but hey if you're one of my devoted readers, thanks for reading this far! if you're one of the people who faved and followed me and hasn't really moved over to AO3 I'm under the same penname there!