Author's Note: I cut the chapter in two because it felt easier to comprehend the messages this way. I might suggest the reader to take some time with this chapter, as it's pretty heavy on philosophy, wisdom and subtleness – perhaps also a tale of courage and mystery (or at least that's how it felt as I was writing it!). It's a life of insight others don't readily see and curiosity (endless questioning), burden and responsibilities in the original Hero's character I'm trying to portray here. There's a reason The White Goddess Hylia would choose a specific person (or a simple mortal) to take interest in, am I wrong? Maybe such a thing would normally be below her in the eyes of her divine peers.
-o-
Chapter 17A (2): Hylia's Memoriesof the Hero: Connections (Part One)
Years Later (After Link's Sentencing):
Link sat, locked up in the stone cell wall. He wore light, tattered clothes and slept on but a small mound of straw; he might have been lucky enough to be given that. It had been like this for a few years now. The room was sealed so tight that not even a rat could sneak in –He would have welcomed that company.
It was then that the large, practically soundproof wooden, steel bared door to his cell opened. I was rare that it did. Only every few days did he get food and the water he did get remained dirtied in a bucket next to him. A normal man would never drink it, for he would know it to be filled with parasites, but Link had little choice in the matter. Luckily though, his body had gotten used to them by now.
Jailer: "Ah, good morning, rebel. Isn't it such though?"
Link's voice was somewhat raspy and quiet: "…I wouldn't know. It's morning?" He thought to himself: I guess I was up all night again. It's been raining for days so the light hasn't been coming into the window… It's easy to lose track when you're in the dark all the time.
The Jailer unlocked his cell to enter: "Yup and they've got a special treat for you today. Stand up."
He looked at him in question, weak. Two more men entered into the room.
Jailer: "I said stand! Hurry it up already will ya?"
He was standing now: "What's going on?"
"Your lucky day," one of the other men said cockily, "A present from his majesty."
Huh, sure… Link thought to himself – he did a lot of thinking to himself these days; not having anyone to talk to tends to cause that.
The Jailer undid his chains and the two others pulled him out of the cell. They began walking him into another room in the jail near the kitchen area, which was oddly quiet.
"Man, I guess this is a good idea. You look like hell, and grimy as shit."
They pushed him into a small washing area. Link was calmly compliant even though he was unhappy to be so; there was little use or point in disobeying. They chained a weighted ball to one of his feet. It smelt like mildew here, but it was different, so it wasn't so bad.
"Have to do it like this, for procedures sake. Can't give you a chance to run away."
Right… As if I would. Well…maybe I would.
The men shouted to another guy coming from around the corner.
A rather nicely dressed man appeared. He didn't look happy though. He shooed the others away: "You've done your part. I'll inform you when we're done here." They nodded and took off a little disappointed.
He introduced himself: "I'm the Master's Informant. And I'm here to get some information out of you."
Link: "Great, like what? What could I know that you don't, being in a dark room all day."
Informant: "Perhaps more than you think. But first things first," he rolled up his sleeves, "I think you need a good washing. When's it last been, huh? -Years? Surely they powder you down once in awhile?"
Link somewhat shrugged, "Something like that."
Informant: "Ah, then I think you'll appreciate some warm water." He turned and picked up a small cooking cauldron he had brought from the kitchen and proceeded to pour it over Link.
Link wasn't a fool though. The man had thick gloves on; the pot had just come off the fire and was boiling. Link dodged as he could but cringed and threw himself against the wall in pain as his leg got singed, stuck to the ground by the heavy ball chain unable to move. The light cloth on his body felt like a blessing right now; it prevented him from getting anything worse than two degree burns. He slid down into a sitting position to help the pain. The slight struggle to keep quiet had zapped him of a lot of his energy though. As a knight, you generally learned to keep quiet if you knew what was best for you in times of anguish. He shook in immense pain.
Informant: "Oh, too hot? Better cool you down then." He proceeded to dump another caldron of water on him, this time it was full of ice and freezing cold. He couldn't avoid it.
His hair got soaked. His body was in slight shock but he managed to not panic. He shut his eyes to breathe.
Informant: "Looking better already!" He pushed the pots out of the way and kneeled closer: "Now, are we in agreement you'll speak or will I need to coax it out of you?"
Link: "I- I don't'n't think I have anything to say, but ask." He controlled his shaking.
Informant: "Right now, as you rot in here like you deserve, those men of yours rebel against the king. If you haven't heard by way of gossip in the prison, a few of them have been arrested. But they refuse to cooperate. -Now… Some of these King's men, they immediately point to you as their advisor. And it is possible they could have got in to see you, considering one of them was a part-time jailer. So…now I ask… Who is it that's head should be marked?"
Link: "Marked? For what?"
Informant: "For attempting to assassinate the King."
Someone tried to assassinate the King? –Link was somewhat stunned and upset. He had always been fond of the King despite everything (he knew he had become of victim of politics not the King himself).
Link: "I don't know anything about it, but…clearly it's their loyalties you need to ques-stion, not me. I would never want to see the King dead."
The informant hit him with a hard slap to the face as if it were a lie: "Even after years of imprisonment you're going to try and convince me you're still loyal to the man that caused it? Horse shit."
Link looked down, then back up, a small trickle of blood on his lip. He really did look like hell: "…You're right, maybe I shouldn't, maybe not as much but…I just have no anger towards him, just the reason it happened."
Informant: "The reason it happened? You mean your own ignorance, selfishness and insubordination? ...At the sentencing you claimed you fought in the name of the King –you think it's normal to say that when actually doing things against him? I think you might just be a clever liar," he spoke slyly.
Link: "…Apparently to many it sounds like that but…one truth you canbe-elieve in is that I am certain of my own words and what I saw. –You can know for sure that I believe in what I say in the very least."
Informant: "That's madness!"
It sure feels like it sometimes… Link said to himself, upset, considering for a moment it might be – but he just knew better. Time and torture would not break his spirit wholly.
The Informant looked away for a moment with a sigh, actually thinking about it. Turns out he really wasn't a bad guy – each person has a soft spot if you know how to access it.
Link: "It is true the King placed this sentence upon me but it was not by his will he applied it. He had to…and I know this… Who exactly is it that you're working for?"
Informant: "Don't play me the fool."
Link: "…Did you get my name by torturing the others too?"
Informant: "Yes."
Link: "The-en you know their information isn't reliable. Yet you try to weave it as if it is?"
Informant: "True… I guess you aren't as pathetic as you look. However, since your response was given in duress, like theirs, what makes yours reliable?"
Link: "I have not-a-thing to lose; I wouldn't mind dyi-ing. I have no reason to lie. Yet, they have all the reason in the world. Families, lives, chance of freedom, to protect their own hides."
The informant gave him a cold look as if trying to break his soul.
Link: "…I've got nothing, sir, really. All I've got is a dark cell and a cold floor. But if-f you want to slap me around a little more… That's fine with me. …I might like it." He sneered despite the pain.
The Informant looked angry, very angry…
Link just looked back at him with a surprising coolness in his eyes.
The informant wanted to slap him again as hard as he could but he held back, respecting the upper hand the prisoner had gained: "Damn you…"
Link took a breath; he was drained despite his attitude.
He yelled into Link's face: "We don't need a champion! We don't need a hero! That was decided the day you were set to die!"
Link spoke back purely to get a rise out of him: "Yet I still exist…and you know that killing me is something the king does not want, that is if it is him you answer to."
The informant stood up and paced, enraged, knowing it to be true. If the King truly did believe in his treason his champion would have been cut down in an instant – that's how the King was; the king was no torturer – that's why he had condemned the use of the dungeons after all. Somehow the informant felt as if he was being the one questioned now. Yet here I am torturing this guy – maybe there are better/other ways… He made a very irritated, hateful face towards the prisoner on the ground. He had never 'lost' an interrogation before.
Informant: "You would still fight for and be loyal to the King?"
Link: "I am loyal to the king and would fight in his honor as a man, but it is for the realm my true fidelity lies."
It made sense… The informant clenched his fists and practically spoke through his teeth; he knew Link knew what he was talking about: "If it isn't you…then you may be in danger just as he is…"
Link: "Why are you telling me this?"
He didn't answer directly: "One of the men carried a set of your keys."
Link: "…"
The Informant finally turned his back on him: "Fine. My experience tells me I have all I'll get then. But I swear if anything else comes up we are going to meet again." He called for the jailer guards once more.
Jailers: "Yes, sir?"
Informant: "We're done here… Get this piece of shit back in his cell." Discouraged, he walked away and out of sight.
Jailer: "Right. Back to your feet again."
-o-
The days carried on. Link had bouts of palpitations as his burn wounds semi-festered. Such abrasions would not become infected, just ache immensely and heal slowly under meager bandages.
He shook briefly, feeling so very cold. The high humidity kept him from freezing though.
He sat against the wall and sighed as the light from the very small ventilation slit (a very small, barred window to outside) peered onto the floor of the room. The room was partially underground (helpful in preventing escape), so the ventilation slit was set high up against the ceiling just high enough off the ground outside to notice blades of grass ending when the sunbeams leaned in.
Link: "Here you are again, light… Damn. So uncomfortable…" he complained aloud, but quietly, shifting into another position. He usually only did this (spoke aloud to himself) when the light shone in. This light was the only thing that gave him comfort, the only thing that changed, the only thing that gave him peace and perhaps a reason to open his eyes. Also it lent him slight warmth as it reached in the cell…
He shivered briefly: "…It's free-ezing today. I just can't shake it since that day; it's been weeks of this now…" He checked his burns since he could see them now. "Still not healed…" He leaned his head back against the wall where he sat, "But what's it matter anyways, right?" It was still very painful.
He sighed: "Maybe that Informant was right… Should I be mad at the King? He was just ignorant… Should people be blamed and held accountable for not understanding? –For not knowing any better?" He thought about it for some time.
Link: "I suppose it depends on if they are willing to learn or not…and the King was never close-minded, but…" he remembered the years he spent under the King, his kindness and openness with the young, valiant but vagrant knight (himself) when he was younger. Link knew, admittedly, he had really pushed his own luck… He had chosen to act in ways he knew the King couldn't approve of for the sake of his own head. It was politics… The King clearly didn't want to be responsible for Link's death either…since he was still alive. "Maybe the King stuck his own neck out in keeping me alive…as miserable as this is… I still just cannot feel anger for the man. Though…I do think ignorance or not knowing any better should be something punishable – how else can one learn then?" That felt ironic to say considering it could also apply to wear he sat now. He sighed sadly…
-o-
Chapter 17A (2): Hylia's Memoriesof the Hero: Connections (Part Two)
A few weeks later:
Link was finally growing pessimistic thanks to the wounds and the constant discomfort from it: "I just… I can't take this anymore… Every day is the same. Every day… And still so cold…" He could see his own breath. "So cold all the time, like death… I would rather have death… Is caring as much as I do truly such a crime I must suffer for?"
He grabbed the wall with some strength and dejection: "I can't take this anymore!" He began to finally (and temporarily) psychologically crumble. He touched his head, cringing as if he could cry. (Took him long enough to finally break a little. He had gone through so much in his life though, this was just another thing. And he wasn't one to feel self-pity or 'woe is me' usually).
The sunlight came closer up the floor. He leaned his head down dejectedly. He sounded as if he were pleading: "Why, Goddess, why? Why must I suffer like this? –I can only take so much. Why won't you let me die? What else is it I must do?"
Unbeknown to him, the Goddess Hylia actually was listening and she took that comment personally. She also wondered about what he asked: was caring as he did truly such a crime? She wondered about it and wondered about the many things he seemed to ponder while in that cell. He had a wise disposition she could relate to. His questions and viewpoints enlightened her to things she may have become unaware of or never thought of before. It gave her a new and odd insight and perspective on things (especially involving her creations, the humans), which she was grateful for and found herself applying elsewhere, coincidently. She grew so very upset for him… And even more attached to him as the years went by… She didn't want to see him suffer like this… He deserved better.
Link didn't mean it as such though; he had never assumed Hylia watched over people, really. He was more so begging to the Gods that were not there.
But Hylia…she did care and she was there; she cared very much for this human in particular. It had been years now and through many agonies he suffered, mentally and physically. He had somewhat inspired her to keep fighting in the name of the goodness in the world. How silly is that? She would laugh at herself, for a human to inspire a god? -She could never let any of her fellow gods hear that one. …But now he was breaking. And never before had her heart actually ached like this for someone: god, creature or human alike. But all she could do right now to help him was to send this light to him every day and listen to his woes. She tried to listen whenever she could but sometimes her duties took priority.
The light hit Link's skin. He looked up briefly, a tear in his eye: "Oh… At least it's a little warmer feeling today… That's a good thing…" For a few minutes the pain in his leg went away; slowly it was healing.
-o-
A few days later as the light peered onto the floor and slowly onto his face as usual, Link again complained aloud. He was more down than usual lately: "Another day… Getting even colder… It should be reaching winter now… But…" The improper conditions and wounds may have been taking their toll of his immunity. He felt his head, realizing he had been sweating. "Fever…" He was suddenly glad it was reaching winter…
-o-
Weeks later:
Today was a day Link truly felt out of it. The guards hadn't fed him in awhile and the water, well, it was always filthy, plus the fever he had developed was raging high. There was loud commotion outside lately. It was very loud considering Link could hear it. It sounded like war…which would explain why the jailers were out. Link hadn't slept well the past few days… Not sleeping for awhile and a high fever can make a man suffer delusions.
The room lit up ever so softly, the light was about to peer in.
Link leaned against the wall, as usual… Tired, hungry, a bit delirious maybe… When he thought he heard a voice ask him something…
He replied to it: "Though I may be in bonds my sense of what is right and wrong won't diminish. All you have really given me is too much time to think. That alone feels like a curse sometimes but I also know it to be a blessing… And for my friend, well… I know many names and I still remember a few faces at least, but I will not say them. I have no reason to say them or to blame people for things I just do not know…"
The voice spoke again.
Link replied: "I would be a fool to claim I do know, because I do not know. All I can say is that I am aware I know nothing and I have comfort in acknowledging the fact I do know nothing because it brings me closer to attaining personal enlightenment. Further questions and answers always come though… Time and life never brings an end to that, does it? So forever I will wonder… But I do not know the things I do not know, so…I will never attain anything really, will I?" he somewhat laughed as if it hurt.
There was movement outside by the ventilation window as if someone was there peering in at him.
The voice spoke louder: "What? There are plenty of things you could attain. Like freedom for instance."
Link: "Maybe but you point out the obvious. I could be physically free, yes, and be given a choice in what I want to do, freely, but even if given such luxuries I would still be bound by something."
Voice: "Like what?"
Link: "…Such as my heart, or my beliefs, or my bodily requirements, such as food, drink, sexual comfort, or other forms of physical attachments. Plus you have friends and family, responsibilities and hobbies all the like. So then I may ask you, since my life is free of all these things…is it really me that needs freedom, or you, outside this cell?"
Voice: "But you still have longings for comfort and needs for basic sustenance like food and drink. How can you say you are free of these things?"
Link: "Well…It's no longer my decision; whether I eat or not it's all decided for me, so I am free of needing to make any choices about it."
Voice: "Free? –That's what enslavement is: Taking away your choices, taking away your responsibilities! Don't you fret not knowing what will happen?"
Link: "…I didn't say I didn't… But, let me ask you then… What do you see when you watch the birds fly? Is it freedom?"
Voice: "Most people do think being able to just fly away when you want to is a good thing, yes. You could go wherever you want, whenever you want. So yes, to fly is to be free."
Link: "But you do realize birds don't do that, right? They have stable homes or fly only briefly with the seasons to their other homes. They have places to stay and protect – they do not just go wherever they want whenever that want to. Besides…if they never had a home to return to, would that be freedom? -I certainly don't think so. It would be wandering; it would consist of worry and doubt. So, I must conclude…that freedom is having a place to return to and rely on. A place you can recuperate."
Voice: "Well, flying aimlessly is still far better than being trapped in a cage."
Link: "In a cage the bird can rest and sleep. In the air it can only tire until it falls to the ground or larger birds hunt it down. Freedom like that is not always safe or easy –it is short and careless -thoughtless."
Voice: "So you would rather stay locked up inside to be safe? –That's disgraceful!"
Link: "Yes, I agree, it is. But I never said I wanted that, because I don't. …Those that are quick to panic in war are the first ones to die, just as those that never leave their homes (or prisons) are the first ones to wither from starvation, loneliness or a broken spirit, even madness or suicide. …It's been the hardest thing to fight – myself that is."
Voice: "So now you're saying staying in the home or being locked up is a bad thing. Which one is it then –To fly free or be caged?"
Link: "It's both."
Voice: "How is it both?"
Link: "Because the good life has both. It has stability. It has freedom but restriction. You can spread your wings and experience life and yet fold them in to rest and ponder. Like…if you drink too much of this water," he eyed his supply "you can become poisoned, but if you have none, you turn to dust. There is an equilibrium that must be met."
The person outside shuffled as if looking around. No one knew they were there, they were safe.
Voice: "I…guess I see your point there. So…what is it I should do then? Is it that you don't want to be free?"
Link: "I do, of course I do, but what would be the point of it if I needed to live with the burdens of becoming free? You and the others would suffer needlessly for freeing me; that along with all those after me, would constantly unnerve me and worry me. We would all be living on the run, much like that bird with nowhere to land. And my freedom could get you killed and sentenced to treason as well… I'm not that selfish. So…if the time comes for my freedom, then so be it. But if not, it is okay. Though I appreciate it, I do not want you or anyone to take such a risk. And I expect to never see your face."
"But…" the voice was moved and confused at the same time. "But what if you could be free without it being anyone else's wrong doings or responsibility? What if you could, hypothetically, apologize for what you did and be forgiven somehow?"
Link: "Then I would be apologizing for the things I believe. I would be apologizing for doing what I thought was and is right. I would also be lying: as much as I could pretend what I did wasn't right I know deep inside myself I was right and that I still do care. Thus, I would be denouncing who I am. I refuse to take that back. I would rather rot in this cell then be forced to not care anymore or to become a liar, someone that I am not."
Voice: "So then…your love of this land and what is good in it… Because you would refuse to denounce that, you would stay in this cell? So then it is the passion you feel that keeps you from freedom in this case?"
Link: "I…suppose you're right…" He sounded a little dejected. "Because I cared I did what I did and I continue to. And…I suffer for it daily. It is indeed what keeps me here then. So…maybe I am being rightly punished… I really did put myself here…"
"No, that's not it… Please don't think that way." The voice replied sadly and femininely. "It's what you face that put you here. But…may I ask? Do you regret such a passion? Do you wish you could be free of it and live like everyone else?"
Link: "Like everyone else who cares not and knows little? -No. I would choose the same path every time. There is no excuse. I…would rather be bound by this passion and by what guides me to think something is 'just' and 'right' then…just stay quiet and do nothing, or worse…destroy what I find meaning in to stay safe or 'free'. What treasure would this land hold if I didn't fight for it? -What good is a forest without trees? I value this truth and virtue more than anything else even if it's burdensome to carry and often leaves me in solitude – even outside of this cage I was often in solitude… Most people don't seem to understand… It's a lonely journey, even when surrounded by people, but it's been part of who I am."
Voice: "So then, do you think humanity is to blame?"
Link: "…I don't really know the answer to that. We can do both good things and bad, so I guess it depends on what you have greater expectations in."
The voice continued asking him these questions as if she truly did not know: "So then what makes people good or bad? Besides gods, or these freedoms or lack of freedoms you mentioned."
Link: "…Other people do."
"Other people?..." the voice seemed to mumble to itself in question. She was accustomed to seeing divine creatures taking credit for mortal actions… She was only beginning to understand what that could even mean 'other people do' considering how she was here now asking Link questions... She realized she understood. …She understood just how important that might be too.
The voice spoke up again seeking such help. She was wondering what he might advise; were they worth saving or were they the root of all the problems?: "So then without other people this wouldn't be a concern would it?"
Link: "Maybe, but within humanity things such as 'good' and 'bad' really aren't set into stone. We created those terms, after all, based on our needs. I'm sure my enemies would label me 'bad' just as I label them 'bad' –and I label myself 'good' as their leader labels himself 'good' to boost their personal causes. It's all perspective. And if what they say about the gods is true, it's really no different, but just more permanent for them. So…maybe humanity is a little more flexible in this way. We can see the whole picture –Well, at least some of us can."
Link: "…Knowledge, experience and love can sway the human heart so long as one is open to hear and feel such things… At least there is potential for change of some kind… Sometimes, thanks to others, people do realize what they did actually was wrong and they do try to turn over a new leaf in life, or repent for their sins. They come together…and their flaws become a powerful strength. But…I…I guess I don't really fit in anywhere then. At least it felt like it sometimes…being alone all the time; I always was… (He remembered the day he got sentenced) No one understood then and it's disheartening, their selfishness and lack of insight…though…I know they will come to. Better late than never I guess? I don't know" he shrugged.
The Voice seemed satisfied: "Hmmm…"
Link continued: "As much distain I have for humanity I still know they are capable of good despite the many that are not. Without 'good' and 'evil' there is no middle ground, but…the terms are so ill defined… I just wish…people cared more about things other than themselves. It disgusts me."
The light began to fade slowly as well as the voice.
Link: "Even though that's a selfish way to phrase it…" he sighed realizing yet again he reasoned things against himself; he constantly tasted irony.
Link: "But wait a minute…" he somewhat snapped out of it and stood up, looking intently where the person had been near the grating as the light was slowly falling away. The person had been right there, their face down talking to him; oddly though the light had still came in, completely unblocked… "How is this possible?" He heard nothing more, not even the footsteps of anyone walking away.
He rubbed his head: "Have I been talking to myself this whole time?" He sat back down, "Wow, maybe I am starting to fall into madness." He chuckled as it grew darker inside the cell again. "Maybe…but…" I guess I feel a little better… He chuckled some more despite how cheerless he felt. At least my madness is a productive one… Always the optimist despite being a realist.