Chapter twenty-nine, Ancestors

"I tired cleaning and brushing your hair when you were unconscious, but it's become horribly matted and tangled I'm afraid," the woman named Zelda, but was not his Zelda, said. "If you're up to it, I can try untangling it again, although it might hurt a little."

Link nodded gratefully. She had been incredibly kind to him, almost motherly, and so he did not want to be rude. In truth, he did not really want her to try combing his hair, as the mention of more pain sent a pang of fear and panic, but he figured he would have to get over the sensation at some point. That being said however, every waking moment was filled with heart wrenching, adrenaline pumping, startling subtleties. He was jumpy to say the least. If there was a sudden noise, or a flicker in the lighting he would practically leap out from his bed, terrified that Ganondorf was there to take him back to the nightmare that was his torture room in the Phantom Realm. He had already taken to hiding a knife he 'borrowed' from the kitchen under his pillow, not that he could even grip it if he needed to. Whoever was watching over him in those moments of panic always came to his side to calm him down and reassure him of his safety.

They took turns usually. She would take care of him during the morning, while his predecessor was out cutting wood, hunting, or performing some other homestead activity. And then in the afternoon, the dark-blond haired man who shared his name would enter and watch over him while his significant other bustled about cooking, or seeing to other important things. She was an excellent cook. Then again, he figured the worst meal from the worst chef in Hyrule would be heavenly in comparison to the moldy bread he ate under Ganondorf's care.

Ow! She was right. Despite her best efforts to be gentle, as she pulled the comb through his hair it got snagged instantly, and pulled against his skin painfully.

"Sorry," she fused. "I'm trying my best." Link tried to smile reassuringly, how could he blame her for trying? He nodded for her to continue. Again, the comb could not even pass an inch before it was tangled in his matted hair. He tried no to wince, determined to tough it out, but if his nose curled even slightly she would stop and apologize.

Please, this is nothing compared to hell I've been through. He could not tell her that though. No, all he could do was smile politely and gesture for her to continue, regardless of his disdain for the activity.

She fused with hair for the better part of ten minutes before she decided to take a break for his sake. Link's lips thinned as he exhaled through his nose. Even resting against the pillow hurt his head, as the matted hair pulled and folded uncomfortably

Why don't you just cut it off? It was a novel idea, although he was wary of taking such drastic action. He had never cut his hair shorter than the length of his hand, palm to fingertip, before, and so cutting it all off completely was admittedly an ill-favored task. He had always been rather proud of his golden hair. Even the Princess seemed fond of it.

He tried to forget the last remark as it made his heart hurt. All the more reason, I guess, he sighed hopelessly miserable.

With his bandaged hands he gestured for his writing tools, which his caregiver readily gave to him, visibly interested in what he wanted to write. It was an almost alien feeling, knowing that someone was interested in what he had to say.

'Just cut my hair,' he scribbled awfully. His writing was still practically illegible, no better than that of a child's writing, but luckily, she seemed quite capable of reading his poor excuse of letters. At any rate, after a day of practice, his shaky hands began to compensate for the task, even though he barely wrote. All he really did was lay there and try not to think. Thinking brought painful memories, and pain brought tears; tears he should not shed.

"Are you certain?" she asked with a genuinely concerned expression.

Yes, he said in addition to nodding. I think…

Her lips thinned as she contemplated his request with heavy eyes. Trimming one's hair was one thing, but cutting it all off was another. Hylians were always fickle folk when it came to their hair. Every person was different, they all had their own style of hair that they stuck to, usually for their entire life. It was incredibly rare that someone to change their hair so drastically, and Link was no exception to that inclination.

"Are really sure?" she reiterated. Link nodded his head, trying to smile. "Okay," she finally sighed hesitantly. After helping him sit on a small wooden stool in the center of his makeshift bedroom, she draped a large cloth around him, so that he was covered from the neck down, being very careful not to hurt his whip-scabbed back. She inhaled and exhaled nervously when she banished a small pair of scissors from a storage cupboard and lifted it to his head to begin snipping away.

The first cut sent shivers down his spine. He watched as a long, matted strand of golden hair fall in front of his face onto the floor at his feet. It was like he was cutting away the last ties that anchored him to his old life. One last thing Ganondorf had taken from him… He ground his teeth and blinked forcefully to push away the angry tears, and took a deep breath to calm himself. He knew that he was truly in a pathetic state when such an inconsequential act brought him to tears.

I have one remaining heirloom I suppose, he finally reminded himself as he looked down at the necklace that was tucked under the cloth that covered his body. Its leather cord was still stained red from the blood-oath he took in the name of his king. His heart was filled with despair when he considered his impending failure. When was he going to pay the blood price for failing to uphold his oath? Then again, how could the goddesses exact their wrath upon him when even they were corrupted by Ganondorf?

Din. Farore. Nayru. Could it really be true? Could he have really put a spell on them while they slept? It was too astronomical for him to even consider. The world was going to come to its end. With the Creators gone, the Master Sword broken, and the Spirit of the Hero undoubtedly enslaved by Ganondorf and Demise, what hope was there? Even if he had his full strength back, what chance did he have of saving anyone when even the golden goddesses themselves had been forced against their creation?

His shoulders sank lower, and lower as he slipped further into the pit of hopelessness. And, as if it were another spiteful insult hurled towards him, he had not even been sent back to his proper time. He was sent hundreds of thousands of years back, exiled to die with his ancestors.

"It will grow back," Zelda tried to reassure him, thinking that his hair was the cause of his breath racking grief. Link made no effort to respond.

Before long there was a large pile of matted hair scattered on the floor, and his head felt remarkably lighter. She offered him a mirror when she finished cutting his hair. His throat seized up when he saw a swollen-faced, scruffy-chinned, short haired disgusting excuse of a man in its reflection. Link did not even recognize himself anymore. He quickly handed the mirror back, too embarrassed to even look, and shuffled back to his bed before collapsing into it, avoiding all his ―sensitive― areas.

Zelda understood by his behavior that he did not want to talk, or more accurately, be talked to. It was an occurrence that happened regularly now, resulting in a continued atmosphere of mystery for Link's ancestors. Link did not feel capable of recounting everything that happened to him, physically or so, after he turned away, Zelda set about sweeping up his hair off the floor. Since he was facing the opposite way, he could not see her work, but he could hear her bustling about with purpose until she quietly sat back down on the chair by his bed.

A strange melodic noise began to hit his ear. It sounded like a stringed instrument, as it had a slight twanging noise to it, but it was soft and beautiful. And then he recognized what he was hearing.

It can't be…

Link turned over in his bed and looked at the golden-haired woman across from him who was holding a simple, but lovely harp in her hands, and was self-amusedly plucking a tune that was terrifyingly familiar. He had hummed it many times before. It was the song he heard at the King's funeral; the one that reminded him of his Princess. A lullaby. When she saw his bewildered expression, she stopped and gazed at him perplexedly. Somehow, she seemed to have read his mind.

"Do… do you know this song?" she asked in an awe filled voice.

Link nodded.

"Where did you hear it?"

'I heard it when my king died, at his funeral,' he wrote cryptically after sitting up. 'he was a Chosen Hero too.'

"There have been many other Chosen Heroes?" she asked timidly.

'Countless.' She cleared her throat apprehensively when she read his reply.

"So, Demises' curse held true… Our descendants have been haunted by his incarnation…" Link confirmed her dreary statement with a curt nod.

'And now he is freed.' Their conversation was interrupted when his spiritual predecessor entered the room with a light knock.

"How's everything going?" he asked patiently, eyeing Link's newly cut hair with silent pity, but did not inquire. He seemed out of breath, and there was a bead of sweat on his forehead. No doubt he had just finished his outside chores.

"He knows my family's lullaby. The one you like so much. Apparently, the song has been passed down through the generations."

"Astonishing," is all his predecessor said with a wide mouthed awe-filled smile. There was a tingling sensation in Link's chest as he contemplated what he strangely felt timid to request.

'Play it again?' he simply asked in small letters.

A sweet smile stretched across Zelda's lips. It was a familiar smile that made his heart hurt as much as it gave him peace. With well-practiced fingers, she began to pluck the soothing lullaby. Goddess, it made him feel better. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, taking in every note with blissful attentiveness. And then it occurred to him how badly he wanted to be home. Despite how much his shield-brothers hated him, how much the townsfolk would undoubtedly hate him, and how he no longer had any surviving family that he knew of, all he yearned for was home. Home is where Jonathan was. Home was where all of his closest friends where, where he grew up, where he trained, and fought to protect the Princess. Even if he had to shadow her for the rest of his life as nothing more than her silent guardian, denied all desires of the heart and flesh, denied all humanity, he would have been happier there than being exiled and forced away from her.

Maybe it was childish to assume that he could stay by her side without impeding her, or burdening her duties as a princess, and future queen, but his desire to just be in her presence was strong enough to make him feel sick. Reluctantly, he thought since all he could possible offer her now was absolutely nothing but his continued service, she would come to her senses and abandon her pursuit of him, which would allow him to still be by her side as a loyal servant without compromising her responsibilities. Then again, what did his service mean now? His body, the only thing he had left to give in knighted provision, was broken. He could not defend her without his full strength, he could not advise her without a voice, and most of all he could not, and never should have offered her companionship.

Ganondorf really had taken everything from him. He was doomed to be cast aside like an irreparable tool. His mark on the world would die with him. He would leave no legacy, no children, no land or riches. Nothing. He was truly nothing, and yet this 'nothing' had to try his best to fulfill the blood-oath he made. Dying in that pursuit would be the only peace his soul would find.

However, all of this hinged on one key aspect; getting home. That was the first roadblock to tackle in order to return to nothing, so that he could fulfill nothing, and receive nothing. In his despair he thought that maybe his ancestors knew of a way he could return to his own time. He had always read about the various Heroes of Old who were granted the ability to travel through time, although it was usually a very specific allotted section of time, but maybe his oldest ancestors knew of a way to send him all the way forward.

And then an idea struck him light a bolt of lightning.

What if, by some miracle that they could send him through time, they could send him to before he was kidnapped and prevent it from happening? Then it occurred to him, why not earlier? Why not send him back before the King was killed, so that he could warn him? Why not go even further back, so that he might save his father, and take him to MiarindÍl before he died?

He would have jumped out of bed had they not stopped him with worried pleas. His hands trembled uncontrollably as the added adrenaline only increased their inability to stay still, but after a few deep breaths, he calmed down enough to begin writing on a clean piece of paper.

'Can you send me forward through time?' he wrote plainly with the quill stuck between his palms. His ancestors were flabbergasted by his request, and so he allowed them a little time to process it.

"I don't know," his predecessor finally responded, visibly unsure of himself. "Perhaps… I don't know if I could… Time is a fickle thing, and I had no say in the matter last time I dealt with such weighty powers."

'How?'

"Well. The Gate of Time was closed years ago. Vanished into thin air. But maybe… Maybe if I pull the Master Sword from its pedestal it could somehow reopen it."

'Do it. You have to get me back to my own time.'

"Now hang on," his predecessor said sternly. "You are in no shape to travel, much less return to your own time."

Link's expression soured as he wrote his next message with no small amount of indignation. 'There's no time. I can walk.'

"I disagree with both statements," he replied coolly. "I may not know exactly how far in the future your time is, but I believe the one thing we have in abundance is time. These horrors that have afflicted you have not happened yet in our present life. I will not even think about trying to achieve such a dangerous task until you have fully healed."

Link grew unbelievably frustrated. The answer was right there. He could prevent every terrible thing that had happened to him before they even came to be. He could save his father, he could warn the King of Ganondorf's impending invasion, he could prevent the Master Sword from being broken, maybe even dissuade his younger self from foolishly falling in love with the Princess. He could fix everything before it ever happened, and yet his predecessor wanted him to wait!? He prepared himself to write a long-winded counter argument, but he was softly cut off by Zelda.

"He's right, Link," she said to him. "You are in no condition to travel or defend yourself. Your time will not come for years, possibly hundreds of thousands of years. I think you can bear to wait a few months till you've healed to try to go through the Gate of Time."

'MONTHS!?' he wrote fully capitalized and shoved the paper to them with a sour frown.

"Your fingers need time to heal. They are shattered beyond belief. Your back will be just fine, but…" Zelda hesitated for a moment, which made his ears burn with embarrassment. "Everything else will need time to heal properly. And not to mention that thing in your leg! I don't know if we can ever get that out."

Link mashed his teeth together in fuming frustration. Dammit all! Why did their logic have to seem so ―well, logical? How could he possible stand to wait? He had the opportunity to fix everything! This is how he would fulfill his role as the Chosen Hero. Still, how could he deny their logic. As much as he tried to lie to himself, he could barely walk on his own, and when his medicine wore off the pain was unbearable. Worst of all was when he needed to relieve himself. Goddess it was truly one of the most embarrassing experiences of his life. Not to mention the pain; he had only done it once since his arrival, and the ordeal was enough to make him whimper in anguish. He was so red from humiliation that they thought he had caught a fever. How would manage it alone?

Then the deciding factor entered his mind. How could he present himself to the King, or to his father, to anyone he knew in his current revolting state of appearance? What if his Princess saw him like this? He hoped that he could go back far enough that she would not be old enough to recognize him.

No.

As much as he hated the idea of waiting for so long, it was the wiser option. Maybe he would never be able to wield a sword again, and hopefully he would not need to, but he could at least wait long enough to be able to walk on his own without struggling.

What will I do after I warn the King, he wondered. Would he just fade from existence once his actions took their toll on the past―or the future...? If he prevented everything before it happened, would he no longer exist? The train of thought sent his mind in circles. Time truly was a fickle thing.

'Fine. I will wait,' he wrote down reluctantly. 'But only long enough to be able to take care of myself.'

His ancestors sighed with relief in the way parents would sigh with relief after convincing their child to avoid foolish actions. "Praise the goddesses," Zelda proclaimed. "With that taken care of for now, are you hungry? I can begin some lunch for us."

Both men nodded their heads with eager expressions. "I can help," his predecessor declared. "Unless you want me to stay, Link?"

'It's okay. leave the door open. I will make some noise if I need you,' he wrote carefully.

"Very well. We'll be just in the other room," Zelda replied with a beaming smile. "Besides, I will need the help to cook a little extra food for our guests."

"Guests?" Link's predecessor asked, emphasizing the plurality.

"My father will be here soon. I sent word to him last night. I thought that it would be wise for him to meet our… spiritual successor."

"You're probably right," he replied. "Maybe he can help us determine if we can reopen the Gate of Time for Link."

"I hope so too," she said confidently. "Doctor Levi will be coming with him as well to check on Link's bandages and splints, as he promised he would do the day before." Link felt a little relieved. Apparently neither of his ancestors had been the ones who applied his bandages, which meant neither of them had dealt the atrocity down south. Sadly, that relief was dashed, however, when he remembered the embarrassing shuffle of that morning when his bladder nearly gave out.

He tried to forget it, to no avail.

After laying back down in his bed, Link's ancestors excused themselves, and entered the kitchen which was just on the other side of his door. As he had requested, they had left it open. And so, to occupy himself from boredom, he took to watching his saviors effortlessly float around the kitchen to prepare their meal. They were the embodiment of synergy. It was apparent that they had worked together in this way for years, as half of the time they did not even need to speak a word to know exactly what the other needed. She would hold her hand out expectantly while examining a broth on the fire stove, and he would quickly hand her a ladle to stir it. They chopped vegetables together, prepared a small bird his predecessor shot down for a pot of boiling water so that they could cook it, and then added it to their delicious soup, all while talking and laughing with each other as easily as if they were sitting down.

The looked so happy together. It would have made Link smile, had it not stirred up such a deep and terrifying longing within himself. He could never be as happy as they were. He could never have the woman he was bound to, the one he was sworn to shield and attend to. She would try to convince him otherwise, but under no circumstances could he allow such a dreadful thing to happen. It was like an icy dagger through his heart when he saw his spiritual predecessor give the golden-haired woman a quick and charming peck on the cheek. They thought that he would not have seen it, but he did, and it hurt. Goddess how it made his heart throb.

I can fix it, he tried to convince himself. If I go back far enough ―or ahead really― I can stop these foolish desires from ever taking root. How naïve he was when he was younger. Hopefully he would listen to his own advice. Otherwise he would throttle his younger self until he agreed to never visit the Princess' tower. He prayed beyond prayers that once his mission was complete, he would cease to exist in his current form. He could not bear to think that he would have to live out the rest of his life hindered the way he was. Hopefully, if he could prevent the events in the past, he would have never ended up there in the first place.

Time travel, he scoffed. I hope it works.

He grew tired of watching his ancestors, or more accurately he could not handle the emotions it gave him, and so he sat up in his bed and gathered his writing supplies. There was a small desk to his left, and so after carefully testing his balance, he moved from his bed and sat down at the desk, bringing his supplies with him. He winced a little when a sharp pain shot up his back, which made Zelda stop cooking to come and check on him. With a reassuring smile he waved her away, bowing his head slightly in a show of gratitude for her concern.

It was going to be horrendously difficult to achieve, given his poor excuse of finger dexterity, but he intended on writing down everything that happened to him since he was chosen by the Master Sword in hopes that maybe his ancestors could better understand his predicament, and offer him more helpful information.

His lips thinned as he pondered how to start. He wanted to be short and concise, since it would be a strenuous activity, but he did not want to leave out any important details. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck before wetting his quill in fresh ink and began.

'It started when our kingdom was invaded from the sea…'

An hour had passed by the time his ancestors declared that their lunch was cool enough to eat, and so he gladly set down his writing tool. It was hard work indeed, as he had to hold his arms over the paper and carefully drag the quill across it with as much precision as he could muster holding it between his palms. While at first it was not too difficult, as time went on, his arms grew heavier since he could not rest them on the desk. It made his shoulders and biceps ache.

"What are you writing?" his predecessor asked with a curious grin. Link slid the paper to him; he had only written approximately half a page, which brought him up to the part when the specters began their attack.

"Your King must have been a valiant hero. You hold him in high esteem?" he asked after reading through Link's rough synopsis.

He nodded readily, although he could not hide the glimmer of sadness in his heart thinking about his dead King. Maybe I can fix that, he reminded himself with a hint of hope.

"You say you were at this Akkala Citadel to escort your Princess… Is she the descendant of your time?" Link nodded, and quickly wrote her name on the corner of his paper. "Her name is Zelda too?" he said in astonishment.

'It is the Royal Family's ancient tradition to name the first girl born "Zelda."'

"Zelda," he called out with a smile and waited for a response. There was a shuffling noise in the kitchen, and then she entered the room, which lit up immediately as her vibrant hair reflected the noon sunlight that peered through the window. "Apparently you family's song isn't the only thing that is passed down through time. Every princess that is born first is named after you," he told her.

"Seriously?" she said sheepishly. "I… Well…. I'm flattered, but… I don't know. It feels weird. And a princess? When does that become a thing?"

"I don't know! But I suppose we shall have to name our first daughter after you then, and start the tradition." He shot a knowing and dubious smile at her, and Link swore that he winked, but maybe he did not. He could not say for certain. At any rate, she seemed a little flustered by his predecessor's suave remark.

"Goodness! You're already thinking about children? We've only just barely finished the farm, let alone the house. Let's not be so hasty to take on another responsibility. Especially one as big as that." Link's predecessor seemed a little let down by her response, but he took it on the chin with a humored smile.

"Of course," he began with a cough. "I only meant when we have children."

Am I the only one with red ears? Link wondered, awkwardly staring at the ground dejectedly.

"Well," she drummed, dismissing the topic. "Lunch is ready, and father should be here an ̶ ." She was cut off by a strange gust of wind that rattled the windows violently in a rhythmic fashion. Link instinctively jumped up from his chair, ready to fight, although he practically fell over as he did so when his leg gave out. Luckily, his predecessor caught him.

"Whoa there, calm down. There's nothing to worry about. It's just her father arriving."

What kind of person makes wind like that!? With a dull thump, something landed outside, and then there was a strange bird-like call that emanated from the other side of the window. After a brief pause, a second gust of wind blew through, which was accompanied by another bird-like caw.

"Do you feel strong enough to walk?" Zelda asked Link as his predecessor helped him retain his balance. "It would be nice if we could all sit in the kitchen, there's more room in there. But only if you're comfortable, of course." Speaking honestly, Link did not really want to, but he also did not want to be a bother, so he nodded with a polite smile. "Great! There's a chair in there you can sit on, it has a soft cushion on it, so it should be comfortable." She turned to her significant other before addressing him. "Would you mind helping him in there, I want to talk to my father before he comes in."

"Of course," he replied, encouragingly offering his shoulder to Link so that he could hold on for balance. Walking was admittedly painful, even with his medicine, but he was determined to tough it out. And so, as Zelda exited the front door of their little house to speak to her father, Link ―and Link― sat down at the kitchen table.

"You'll like Gaepora," he declared. "He's a very wise, and very kind man." Link shot him a crooked brow, but thinned his lips and nodded. He hoped that this 'wise man' could help him get home. "I'll bring your writing supplies in. I'm sure you will want to speak ―eh, write― for yourself." Link smiled gratefully, and watched as his predecessor drift back to his room with confident and swift strides. He certainly carried himself like a man of importance, Link noted. It felt strange to be so closely, and compassionately tended to. The only people he recalled caring for him in this way was his father, and unfortunately the Princess, when he fell ill to the poison he received on Mount Lanayru. He shuddered a little, dispelling the emotions associated with those memories.

I can't think about those things right now, he stoutly reaffirmed.

"Hopefully Zelda thought to ask her father to bring more paper," Link's predecessor commented as he placed the writing supplies on the table. "If your tale is a long one, you're going to need a lot more… Anyways, I go ahead and serve some soup up!" Link's predecessor set out five bowls on the table, with accompanying spoons, and then methodically portioned out equal servings to each one with what Link could only describe as precise, and balanced movements that pertained to the adroitness of a true swordsman.

I wonder how proficient he is at fighting? Link wondered with no small amount of idolism. He was the first Chosen Hero after all. Surely, he would be an incredible with a sword in his hand. Then again, he seemed so gentle and kind by nature. It was strange trying to imagine him being a fierce and deadly warrior. Perhaps, he began. Perhaps before I leave this time, he can show me a few tricks. I might need them… If I can ever use my hands again… He looked down at his bound hands with vitriol indignation. And that's a big if.

"Your fingers hurting?" his predecessor asked worriedly, stirring Link from his thoughts. "It might be time for your next dose of medicine." Link shook his head, and forced a thankful smile. "Okay. Just let me know if you need anything."

Link felt a little guilty being such a burden to his already overly gracious hosts. In fact, it hurt his pride much more than he wanted to lead on; being completely incapable of doing anything useful without help was a cruel sting to his ego indeed. It seemed that he would be forced to lean on his ancestors for support like a child.

Weak, he scoffed inwardly. But there's nothing I can do about it now. I suppose everyone needs help at some point in life.

That was another thing that seemed off the past few days. Normally, back when he was in him home kingdom, his self-chastising was much more cruel and harsh, and it usually came from the vile voice in his head, but now it felt so much more like mild contempt, than self-loathing. He recalled something Ganondorf said when he exorcised his darkling from his body. He said something about introducing him to the 'little voice in his head.' Link wondered if perhaps his dark reflection had been the source of his self-hatred all along. It certainly became so heated at times that it felt like there was a whole other person in his head, but the question now was who was the other voice he always heard? Was it the Spirit of the Hero? Was it trying to advise him against the harsh words of his darkling? Had he truly been so blind to their presence the whole time? What if he had been listening to the enemy's advice all along? The idea sent a shiver down his spine.

There were muffled voices outside the front door as a host of people congregated on the wooden porch. By what he could hear, it sounded like two older men, and the Zelda, whose clear voice was much higher in pitch. Before long the door swung open, which made Link jump a little, even though he had been watching it the whole time.

Goddess, will I always be this jumpy!?

Zelda entered first, and behind her trailed a tall, and rather round individual whose long bushy white eyebrows practically curled up and out from his face. While the top of his head was bald, around the sides and back grew thin white hair which was straight and well kept. He sported a thick mustache and a long goatee, and just below his unruly eyebrows, his eyes sparkled with the wisdom and kindness that Link's predecessor had promised.

Behind the man that Link assumed was Zelda's father lingered a rather scraggly and scrawny individual whose bottom lip almost engulfed his upper. Were it not for his generous smile which seemed to never go away, Link would have assumed by the way his eyebrows darted down so low that they almost covered his eyes that the man was furious. However, his snaggle-toothed grin said otherwise.

"Father," Zelda began. "May I introduce you to Link's spiritual successor. It seems that the goddesses have sent him here through time for a very specific reason. Although we have yet to fully understand what that reason is, other than to tend to his wounds." Gaepora strode forward with an elderly saunter and an intense gaze that made Link a little uncomfortable. The kindness that was there just a moment ago had been replaced by what seemed skeptical analysis. He drew closer to where Link was sitting, and out of habit he tried to stand, not knowing whether to shake his hand, or bow.

"No, no, please don't stand for my sake!" he abruptly declared, the kindness in his eyes making a welcomed return. "The name is Gaepora, headmaster of the Knight's Academy," he said with a smile. Link returned the favor and stuck his hand out to shake it, but quickly realized his folly when his hand shook uncontrollably.

Damn habit. He withdrew his hand, feeling embarrassed.

"It's a shame what has happened to you," Gaepora said earnestly. "Truly, I offer my condolences, as well as my support. Anything Skyloft has to offer, I will see to it that you benefit from it."

Link was stunned. What had he done to receive such kindness? Show up out of nowhere, a complete waste of air, food, space, and medical supplies? He was a burden to his ancestors, and yet everyone he had met so far had been the personification of generosity and kindness. He did not understand it, but goddess how he was grateful. The best he could do to show his appreciation was crudely written 'thank you' on the corner of his paper, and offer it to Gaepora with an honest smile.

"If I may ask," he started with an awkward huff. "Have you always been at a loss of voice? Or is that too a result of your hardships?"

'It is a spell cast on me,' he scribbled.

"I see," he nodded. Even his ancestors seemed to nod restlessly at this information, as he had not explained the cause of his muteness to them yet. "Well, I'm sure we will work around it as best as we can."

"You didn't happen to bring extra paper with you?" Link's predecessor asked. "He has taken to writing about the events that have led him here. It would be very helpful for us to learn as much as possible, so that we can help him to the best of our abilities."

"I did not. But I can easily have some brought here as early as tomorrow morning. What have you written so ̶ "

"Ahem," someone interrupted.

"Oh, excuse me," Gaepora hooted. "Of course, you must meet Doctor Levi before we dig into such pressing matters." The gentlemen who Link now knew as Doctor Levi approached with a gangly gait and placed his bony fingers on Link's shoulder in a caring way.

"Actually, I have already met our guest. Although, he has not met me. Not officially. I am Doctor Levi, although you can ―eh, write me down as just Levi. It will be faster like that anyways." Link nodded gratefully. "Now, how are your bandages and splints holding up?" he asked as he examined his hands with practiced eyes, ensuring that they were in order.

Link nodded.

"Well, your back is certainly looking better," Levi said as he produced a pair of thin spectacles and examined his bare back. "It will scar obviously, but you should not suffer to much from it… Unless you have any other immediate concerns, I can check on the rest later." Link's throat seized up and his face grew hot when he understood what he meant. He was grateful that he had not openly named the topic of discussion, preserving what dignity he had left. He only nodded curtly, hoping to press past the awkward silence.

"Will his fingers be all right?" Zelda asked, voicing the concern that he dreaded to address.

"It's hard to say," Levi responded. "As long as they are held in the proper positions, they should heal back just fine, but he will undoubtedly lose a lot of motor function and grip strength. Now that can be at the very least helped with physical therapy, but until we get to that point, I can't say for certain."

I guess it's better than nothing, Link sighed.

"And the thing in his leg?"

"That, I think we can wait to address. Luckily, whatever that thing is, it isn't near any vital organs, so the only real issue it will cause is the occasional sharp pain and sensitive muscles. Perhaps once everything else is healed, we can see about removing it, but I wouldn't dare to perform such an operation while his body is fighting to heal everything else." After a collective sigh, Doctor Levi examined the countless scars on Link's chest and stomach.

"I must ask, Mr. Other Link, how in the world did you survive whatever happened on your stomach and chest? It looks like you were stabbed hundreds of times."

'Healing magic,' he wrote plainly, not really desiring to go into the details of the painful ordeal. A silence fell on the group, and they all stared at him with what he imagined was pity. It made him uncomfortable being the center of attention. After years of training that urged him to blend in and be a silent sentinel, sitting in a kitchen bare chested in front of people he had only recently met, no matter how generous and kind, put his nerves on edge.

"Well," Zelda sighed. "Lunch is served. Shall we eat?" There was a collective grin in response.

That prospect seemed to lighten everyone's mood, and so they all sat down and grabbed their spoons to gratefully enjoy their humble meal. Link fumbled around with his spoon as quietly as he could, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but after he helplessly sloshed his soup around just trying to get a grip of his spoon by holding it between his bandaged thumb and palm, the attention he tried to avoid came to him regardless.

"Oh, forgive me," his predecessor began sincerely. "I forgot." Link's face grew hot as all eyes turned to him, feeling completely useless as the man who was heralded as a hero among his people had to place the spoon in his grip, and helped him hold it under his thumb. Determined to not be spoon-fed like a child, as he so embarrassingly had been at breakfast, he began to dip his utensil into his bowl and scooped up a small portion of warm soup by himself. He lifted it to his lips, supporting his hand with his other arm and ate his first bite. Despite his best efforts, the trembling in his hands made eating a pathetically messy ordeal, as a good portion of his food ended up on the table, or his chin, and even his chest and lap. Zelda offered to feed him on several occasions as she watched his pitiful display, but he stoutly insisted that he was okay. He eventually gave up entirely, and took to lifting the whole bowl to his lips, regardless of how ill-mannered it was considered in his own time. Luckily, they did not seem to care. In fact, they seemed glad that he found an easier way to eat.

Link sat silently as he listened to his hosts discuss none-essential matters. He often heard the words 'Skyloft,' and 'Loftwings' mentioned, but he had not the foggiest idea of what or where they were. His ancestors spoke a lot about their progress on establishing their homestead along with their neighbors, and how they were doing in general.

"Nothing special to report," Zelda chimed. "Ever since the Triforce ascended I admittedly haven't had much to do except tend to the house and farm." Link nearly choked on his food.

They had the Triforce!? Link unceremoniously slammed his bowl down and picked up his quill. 'You did not tell me about the Triforce,' he wrote in a hurry as his hosts watched in captivated surprise at his suddenness. He slid the paper forward to Zelda who quickly read his poorly written note.

"Yes… Sorry, it just didn't cross my mind. You see, after Demise was sealed away in the Master Sword, I took it upon myself to watch over the Triforce, which had taken residence above the great Statue of the Goddess in the Sealed Grounds. Link ―em, our Link, joined me on this venture, and so we kept a watchful eye over it. That is until one day it just flew up into the sky and vanished without any explanation… We tried searching for it, but in the five years we've looked, we have not found a trace."

"All we can hope for," his predecessor added. "Is that the golden goddesses decided to put it somewhere safe. Somewhere evil cannot reach it." Link's lips thinned as he tried to recall the stories of the heroes of old, and any mention of the Triforce.

'It might have been sent to the Sacred Realm.'

"Where is that?" Gaepora asked with brow-raised curiosity.

'Don't know. The legends say the Master Sword once served as a key to unlock that realm. Although the temple that housed was long destroyed, then rebuilt, and the Master Sword was given a new resting place.' His arms were tired after writing his lengthy explanation.

"Can you be sure of this?"

'No. The histories of my spiritual ancestors, your spiritual descendants, are horribly muddied. Nothing is for certain.' There was another collective sigh, although it was a sigh of uncertainty.

"Well, I hope you are right," Zelda finally said. "It would put my heart at rest to know the Triforce is safe." Another brief silence fell on the group as each member pondered the situation. "But, we have other things to attend to. For now, there is nothing we can do about the Triforce, so we need to focus on how to get our descendant back to his own time, and most of all how to repair the Master Sword."

"May I see the sword?" Gaepora asked, looking at Link expectantly. With his nod of approval, Link's predecessor stood and retrieved the Goddess Sword from his room and laid it out on the table, unsheathed. "Have you had the chance to explain how it was broken?" Gaepora asked after carefully examining the fractured blade.

'Long story. It will take time to write.'

"Of course. We have plenty of time however, so don't feel rushed. We will help explain whatever we can as you write."

"I thought the Master Sword was purple?" Doctor Levi asked, speaking for the first time since they sat down for lunch.

"It is," Link's predecessor answered. "This however, is not the Master Sword. This is the Goddess Sword, which transformed into the Master Sword after it was infused with the Sacred Flames of the goddesses, and blessed by Zelda."

"I'm lost, if he is from the future, how does he have the Goddess Sword?" Levi asked with a bewildered expression.

"We're waiting to find out…" They paused when Link began to write again.

'Ganondorf removed the sacred flames, and reverted it back to the Goddess Sword. That is why it broke and released Demise.'

"How did he do that!?" his predecessor gaped. Link swallowed the lump in his throat before answering.

'He corrupted the goddesses through some dark magic. They revoked their flames under his command.'

"What!?" was their collective response, with horror filled expressions.

"How is that possible?" Zelda asked. Link sighed with frustration. They were going around in circles now. The whole situation was too confusing and complicated to wrap his head around, and the fact that he could not speak only made it more infuriating.

'It will be easier if I explain it chronologically,' he curtly wrote.

"You're right," she sighed. "I'm completely lost."

'So about getting me home. Is it possible?'

"It certainly is possible," his predecessor answered. "It's just that I don't know if we have the ability to achieve such a thing. As I said before, the Gate of Time disappeared when we returned to our present time. The only thing I can think of to try would be to pull the Master Sword from its pedestal, but I have my doubts."

'Is there a way we could test it?'

"Well. The Master Sword's resting place in the Sealed Temple is only a short walk away. If you're strong enough, maybe we can walk you up there. Just remember, we're not sending you back until you have healed completely. If we can send you back that way, that is."

'fair enough.'

"Let's finish lunch first before we head out," Zelda added. Link was in no position to argue against that, and so he continued to sip on his soup and waited patiently as his hosts finished their meals. They did not speak much after he had delivered his heavy and incomplete news, as each respective party was locked into deep ponderous states. Link grew a little anxious as he waited in silence, being the first to finish his meal, but soon enough everyone had their fill and began to prepare to leave.

Link was given a light shirt and tunic to carefully pull over his head without hurting the scabs on his back, and the sensitive area of his bruised and broken ribs. His predecessor explained that it was the old knight's tunic he used to wear on his adventures, and it certainly had the well-worn look of travel clothing. There were places where it was patched up, or stitched back together, but overall, it was a sturdy tunic which any traveler would be proud to wear. After tightening his belt around his lean waist, his predecessor offered him a strange long cap that was of the same color as the tunic. It looked a little silly in his opinion, but he accepted it, just glad to cover up his shaved hair.

"Well I'll be damned. I think once you get a little meat back on the bone, that tunic will fit you perfectly," his predecessor said with a beaming smile as he tucked the sheathed Goddess Sword under his arm. "I would be more than happy to give it to you, seeing that you are a kindred soul. Besides, you look pretty sharp in it, if I do say so myself." Link smiled kindly, and bowed his head in a show of gratitude, once again marveling at his ancestor's generosity, even if his compliment was clearly not true. If his brief glance in the mirror was anything to go by, he was about as pretty as a Bokoblin given how swollen and purple his eye was in addition to how strange he looked with short hair. However, that did not matter now.

Link was glad to find that Doctor Levi thought to bring in a pair of crutches for Link, although they were a little difficult for him to use them without his fingers for grip. Still, he managed well enough and began to limp forward relatively easy on his own with only minor pain. He just had to careful not to brush against the bruise on his side, and avoid using his fingers.

"We're ready when you are," Zelda called out as she prepared to open the door. Link nodded readily and inched towards the front door, admittedly excited to go outside in the warm sun. With a bright smile, Zelda opened the door, and Link's heart jumped out of his chest, audibly yelping. A monstrous creature stuck its head through the doorway, its long yellow beak opening slightly to let out a loud squawking noise. It was the largest bird Link had ever seen in his life. He would have searched for something to fight with had his ancestors not started laughing.

"Oh, don't worry, Link," Zelda said reassuringly. "That's just Lazu, my father's Loftwing."

What the hell is a Loftwing!? His expression must have betrayed his confusion.

"Do you not have Loftwings in your time?" she asked with a rather disappointed tone. Link shook his head with thinned lips and furrowed eyebrows. "Really!?" she gasped. "Thats rather sad actually. I couldn't imagine not having one. Would you like to pet him? He's really quite gentle."

Link readily shook his head at first, but after some gentle persuasion, he inched forward and reluctantly stretched out his hand. He tried to not allow his hand to tremble, to no avail, but soon the Loftwing swung its large head his direction and gentle nuzzled his hand with its beak. He let out sputtering breaths of relief and he ran his hand down its smooth beak. Zelda was right, it was a gentle creature. In fact, it seemed to take extra care to be gentle with his wounded fingers. The fear he had at first was quickly overtaken by childlike curiosity as he examined the beautiful blue feathers of the regal bird. Around its neck hung a thick leather belt which had small loops for what Link imagined would serve as places to hold onto. A smile of giddy disbelief stretched across his mouth.

Do they fly these things!? He looked at Zelda expectantly with a wonderous toothy grin, hoping that she would answer is question without him having to write it down.

"Loftwings are our main means of transportation in Skyloft," she explained. "Skyloft is our home town above the clouds. Perhaps once you are stronger we can take you up there. I think you would enjoy it!"

Without a second thought he nodded. What would it be like? How would it feel to fly above the clouds without a care in the world? He became insatiably excited just thinking about, and for a moment he forgot about his pain and worries. Lazu pressed his beak against Link's chest and let out a long breath of warm air through its nostrils that sat just below its brown eyes. It was an extraordinary creature to say the least. Goddess, he could only imagine what it would look like in flight.

"Well I think Lazu likes you too," Link's predecessor said with a warm laugh. "I'm sure you would be a natural at flying! I hope you get the chance. It's truly a magical experience."

"Alright Lazu," Gaepora declared in an authoritative but kind voice. "We need through the door, shoo!" With one last caw, Lazu pulled his head from the door and clambered away, patiently awaiting them as they exited the house.

The sunlight was warm on Link's skin, and for a moment he just looked up to the blue heavens and reveled in the beauty of the world that surrounded him. The breeze gently brushed against his face, and took in a long breath. Goddess, it was like really breathing for the first time. This peaceful moment however was ended with a sharp pain in his rib cage; his deep breath was perhaps a little too deep, and so his ribs cried in protest.

"The Sealed Temple is this way," Link's predecessor said, pulling him back into the moment. "It should only take us about ten minutes to reach, even with your leg." Link finally looked down from the sky, and observed the tranquil forest that surrounded them. To his left, past the newly built home was a large garden which was growing bountifully in the soft, rich earth of the young world, and to his right was a running stream of water, where Lazu and another brown Loftwing, who Link presumed was Doctor Levi's, were prospecting and turning over rocks for something to snack on. The soft trickle of the nearby flowing stream against the pebbles was like music to Link's ears.

"Just down that stream is where I found you yesterday morning," his predecessor remarked as they began to walk down the gravel road which pointed due north. "It's a miracle I stumbled on you lying unconscious in the mud while I was hunting. No doubt it was divine intervention."

From who? Link wondered. The goddesses are no longer on our side.

"Do you know he get there?" Gaepora asked, politely look at him, although clearly waiting for his predecessors to answer.

"Haven't gotten that far yet," he replied. "Although, I think he must have come from the water, if the tracks in the mud are anything to go by." Link nodded to confirm his predecessor's assessment, making a mental note to include that in his outline later.

"Magic? Some kind of portal?" Zelda asked plainly. Link nodded again to confirm her speculation.

They're quite good at guessing, he thought with an impressed expression. Then again, what would be any other logical explanation?

The group let Link set their pace, which was much slower than he wanted, but as fast as he could manage without falling over. By the time the peaked over a particularly steep hill, which he ended up need help to cross over, Link was breathing heavily, but shortly as to avoid hurting his ribs. Doctor Levi expressed his concern about over Link over exerting himself, but he smiled determinedly and kindly nodded, expressing his characteristically apparent obstinance.

"Don't be afraid to motion for a break if you need it," Doctor Levi commented.

This only hardened Link's determination even more, and so he increased his pace. His predecessor and his significant other led them through a quiet forest which was greener than any he had seen before. Greener than that of even Faron Forest in his own time, and all around them the singing birds chirped happily as the drifted from tree to tree in search of nesting spots. Were it not for his heavy breath, Link would have been in complete meditative peace.

"You like it out in the wild?" Gaepora asked with a bushy grin. Link nodded with a smile. "So does your namesake. He's always been a bit of an adventurer," he stated. "Whenever he wasn't sleeping in that is," Gaepora added with an amused whisper. "Never thought that such a lazy boy would grow up to achieve so much."

"There she is," Link's namesake shouted, pointing just past the tree line which had abruptly approached. Link stepped forward and squinted through his good eye. It was the largest statue he had ever seen, although he had seen many in its likeness before. It was a statue of the goddess Hylia, in all her wisdom and grace. "Just down this path and we will be there in no time."

The statue of the goddess stood high and proud above the trees, and at her feet there was a paved courtyard surrounded by white stone wall, although they were decrepit and falling apart. In the direction the statue was facing there was a large building with four towers on each corner and a semi-dome at the entrance. It must have been the temple that his predecessor spoke of. It certainly looked ancient, ominous even, but his company seemed at ease, and so he allowed his uneasiness to pass.

While gazing up at the face of the towering statue, Link noticed a red blob, of ―something― perched in the outstretched palms of Hylia. He continued to watch it with a close eye as he limped forward until he realized what it was. Link's predecessor whistled with his fingers, to which the crimson Loftwing lazily lifted its head to and peered down at them with beady eyes. It let out a loud call, and then drifted down to them with effortless grace.

"This is Ephona, my Loftwing," Link's predecessor said as he stroked the soft feathers on its neck with an infatuated grin. "Come meet my friend," he whispered to it as he gestured towards Link. As Lazu had done earlier, Ephona extended out her long beak and touched Link's chest, and let out a long, warm breath that rumbled a little. Link hunched forward and ran his palm down her neck, sharing in his predecessor's infatuation with the magnificent creature. Ephona nudged her master and let out a quiet chirp-like call before resting herself on the ground.

"Sorry girl," he said quietly. "I have work to do. We can go fly later." Link did not know if the crimson Loftwing possessed the intelligence to actually understand his language, but she certainly seemed to understand his tone and gestures, and so she stood back up and took to the sky in a rush of wind. "Loftwings," he chuckled with a suppressed grin, motioning for the group to continue to the entrance of the Sealed Temple.

By the time they were under the looming shadow of the ancient building's open domed entrance, Link was out of breath again, but he persevered and faithfully followed his companions to the great doors that lead into the heart of the temple. As the weight of the doors seemed to be immense, it took his predecessor no small amount of effort to push them open, but with a little grunt they eventually slide open with a grating noise.

"Well. This is it. The Sealed Temple," he said in almost a tone of uncertainty. "It's been almost seven years since I've been in here."

His voice carried out in a booming echo in the open temple chamber. The moss that covered the walls, ceiling, and floor was on the verge of impracticality, but luckily it did not hinder their desired path, and so the pressed in with collective held breaths.

"I must admit," Gaepora tuned in with a wonder filled voice. "I never thought I would have the reason to enter this place."

"And I never even thought about it at all," Doctor Levi added with a toothy chuckle. Their footsteps fell lightly on the mossy pavement and soon they came upon a dais.

There it is… Link sighed with relief. Opposite of them, in the very back of the hall was the Master Sword, entirely unaffected by age. Its bright white steel shone in contrast to the green and brown stone behind it, and its purple hilt and handle were untouched by dirt or grime. It was strange to think that in his predecessor's hands was the sword that preceded the Master Sword, even though it had been brought back from the future.

Time travel, he scoffed once again. Crazy business. Insane!

"Well," Zelda whispered with airless lungs. "What do we do know?"

"I guess I should try to contact Fi. If she's even awake."

Who is Fi? Link wondered. Is that the name of the voice inside The Sword? He would have to ask later. Link's heart beat loudly in his chest, to the point that he could feel the blood pulsating in his temples. He swallowed the lump in his throat as his predecessor approached the pedestal and placed his hand on the pommel of the Master Sword. He closed his eyes, and seemed to focus his thoughts. He stood there for a minute or so, although it felt like an hour for Link as he waited with anxious anticipation.

"Link," his namesake finally called out, not removing his hand from the pommel. "Come up here and place you hand on The Sword." Nervous sweat began to bead on his forehead as he climbed the stairs with careful steps. As his predecessor instructed, he stretched out his hand and rested his palm against the hilt and waited.

"Truly dire is the need that you should be sent here, Master," a familiar voice said to him, although it did not stutter or glitch. His breath shuddered as he sighed with cautious relief.

Thank Hylia, is all he could manage to gasp.

"Link, can you hear me," another voice called out. He nearly jolted from surprise. It was his ancestor speaking to him.

Yes! And you can hear me?

"I can. Goddess, you certainly have a strong voice. It's a shame you can't speak properly."

Goddesses above, I'm just glad I can talk to someone without having to write!

"Link," The Sword interrupted, although she did not specify to which Link she spoke to at first. "How have you come to this time? Why have you been sent here and awakened me from my ageless sleep?"

So much has happened… Where do I even begin?