Chapter Twenty-One
Falling
I stand before a fire and a man. That does not seem right. The air is still, and my feet are flat on the ground. That also does not seem right, but would my eyes, my senses, lie to me? That would be very rude of them, so I have no choice but to believe that this, around me, is real, and I stand before a fire and a man, and the air is still, and the ground is flat.
The man steps into the light. It's Tall Link, but half his face is smashed and his eye runs down his cheek, weeping blood off his jaw. His cheekbone is too white against the red, yet he still smiles at me as if nothing is wrong, and so I smile back—maybe his face was always like that.
"Hey, man," Tall Link says in his calm, assured voice.
"Where are we?" I ask. The space outside the firelight is black.
"The space between," Tall Link answers.
I'm not entirely sure what that means, but somehow, it still makes sense.
"Don't wander off, yeah?" Tall Link continues. "We need to talk, and there are things in here with us that you do not want to meet."
As soon as he says that, I hear a voice, like the one that spoke my name the first time I stepped out into the light of a past sun. "Link?" My name. Mine. For once not shared with any other blonde head of hair, and I turn towards it, away from the rotting bones of the past.
"Sleepy Link, don't leave the firelight."
But I have already stepped into the darkness, seeking the voice who says my name. The shadows wrap around my limbs like silk adrift in the wind. "Link." There is a golden glow in the air—an orb somewhere out in front of me, and then I'm standing right at its edge, and it blinds me.
"Link. I've waited so long. I didn't know if you would ever recover, return. I can only hold out for so much longer. You have to come for me. You have to end this."
She speaks as if she knows me, but aside from that one moment in the sun, I don't recognize her voice. "Who are you?" I ask. I feel guilty that I don't know better.
"I am Zelda."
I see golden hair, the flap of a white dress, a hand raised against the darkness.
"What are you doing here?"
"I am trapped. When you fell, I did my best to save you, and now, I am the only thing which stands between Calamity Ganon and the world. If I try to leave, he will be free. Please, Link, you must defeat him. I do not know how much longer I can last. When I sensed your presence in the world again—" She stops, confusion coloring the sides of her last words. "But there was something strange…and you talk."
And I was Sleepy Link again. One of many. Maybe the worst of many. "Your Link failed?" I asked slowly. I had never heard of that happening before.
"We all failed. I failed. It was my fault Link…We underestimated Calamity Ganon. Do not make our same mistake."
A Link had failed—I am not the only one who struggles with our supposed calling. Somehow that makes me feel a little better about all the things I've done wrong. When the whole world is at stake, it seems a hero has to be no less than perfect, but these people made mistakes, and the world is still here—however bad a shape it's in. They have a chance to make things right. Maybe that's the point to remember. There will always be a chance to try again.
"You need to go. Something's coming." The princess's voice grows tense, strained. "Calamity Ganon. It knows you're here. You have to go."
Go? But I don't even know how I got here in the first place. Red streaks thread through the darkness, growing larger and stronger as they shoot towards the golden light, and my heart leaps to my throat.
"Calamity Ganon will send minions after you in the real world. You need to be careful. And promise me that you'll keep my Link safe."
Before I can answer, before I can promise that I will, even though the last Link I tried to protect died horribly, the wind grows and wraps all around me, howling desperately, dragging me back until I'm falling, the darkness torn and torn away until I'm tumbling through a bright blue sky.
I lose my grip on one side of that bundle of cloth and sticks that I stole from a ghost, and it snaps open, caught by the wind like a sail. I snatch at the stick on the end, twisting and turning and falling, and I snatch at it again and again until my fingers catch on it, and my shoulders almost rip right out of their sockets as I'm jerked up and out of my fall. And then I'm soaring, gliding, gentle as a kite on the breeze, and I start to laugh.
"Hey, Sheik, look!" I pull on the left stick and curve to that side, swooping around until I'm facing the elevator, though I'm a goody twenty feet below them.
Sheik peers over the elevator railing. "Sleepy?" he calls.
"Look, I can fly!" I tilt my body the other way and swoop around to the right, feeling gloriously light and free. I'm soaring seventy feet above the rolling green ground, and I am not afraid. Instead, I am in control. I can see the entire world scrolled out below me, and I can go anywhere I want in it. not even the scribbling, scrawling darkness around the castle in the distance can dissuade me from my joy.
"Be careful!" Sheik yells from up above, and I smile. Always such a worry wart. I have never been safer. I am wrapped in the wind, supported by it, and it would never let me fall.
My arms grow ache and grow tired as I inscribe circles towards the ground, but my feet touch down before they can give out. My shoes sink into the grass and disappear, and I shiver as a cool breeze caresses my arms. The air is warmer than the cave, especially in the sun, but still much cooler than the desert I'm dressed for. We'll need to find ourselves new clothes before we get too much deeper into this adventure.
A minute later, the elevator touches down, and Sheik leaps out to embrace me, running his hands all along my limbs to make sure I'm not hurt. I revel in the contact, in the feel of his fiery fingers, in the concern swollen through his red eyes. Once he's sure I'm not hurt, he punches me, and I yelp. "You scared me to death!" he yells. "You need to be more careful!"
Tetra snickers as she helps Past Link down from the elevator. They still look wan and tired, even with part of a night's rest inside them.
"It's not my fault the railing broke!" I protest.
"You bloody leaned on it!" Sheik punches me again, in the place where he's already bruised me once, and I dance away from him, out of reach, rubbing my arm.
"I'm fine, see? Not a scratch," I wave my arms around and jump up and down for him, but I can tell by the look on his face that he's not convinced. "We know what this thing is now." I give the maroon cloth a shake. "A paraglider." I want Sheik to be impressed, but it's clear that he is not.
"Well, I think it's cool," Tetra says and claps me on the shoulder. Past Link smiles and gives me a thumbs-up.
"Thank you. See, that's the response I was looking for." I give Sheik a pointed glare.
What do we do now? Past Link signs. Where do we go?
"I spoke to your Zelda," I say instead of answering, but they just look puzzled. "She's in the castle, keeping something called the Calamity Ganon at bay. Do you know anything about that?"
They shake their head. Sorry.
"She needs our help. Now."
"Sleepy, this isn't our time. We can't interfere. We don't know what will mess up the timeline," Sheik says, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze.
"But we're here. Now. Maybe we are part of the timeline." I look for Tetra for support, but she just shrugs, confused and unsure. How the hell are any of us supposed to know how time travel works, but I know in my gut that we need to help the princess. "Wait, holy shit, guys!" I yell, slapping Sheik in the chest suddenly. "That book! It said the Lantern of Shadow was destroyed during the battle with Calamity Ganon. Princess Zelda said they underestimated Calamity Ganon, and that she's been holding it at bay after Link…" I look at Past Link, and the excitement drops from my voice, "fell."
Fell? They repeated.
"That's what she said." I wince. "Sorry."
"There's already been a battle with Calamity Ganon, then," Sheik points out, the logical one as always. "The Lantern has been destroyed."
I throw my hands in the air. "We were sent here for a reason! I bet the Lantern is still around. Come on, man, we have to at least look for it!"
"We're here because you played the Ocarina of Time," Sheik shouts back.
"Guys, shut the fuck up!" Tetra yells, shoving her way in between us. "Look." She points sharply to the left where a bent and wrinkled old woman stares at us from behind an equally gnarled tree. She leans on a staff four times her diminutive height, topped by a blue disc suspended in a circle of wood. Most of her face is lost to the deep folds of her wrinkles, and her thick, white braids seem to weigh heavily on her head. She wears the Sheikah eye on a wooden necklace that hangs all the way down to her navel.
"By Din," Sheik breathes.
"How long has she been there?" I whisper to Tetra and Past Link. Tetra shrugs.
Sheik walks towards her, each step a halting, stilted thing as if strings hold him back, and then he drops to one knee before her, bowing his head. "Impa," he says. I can barely hear him, so I nudge Tetra and Past Link, and together, we sneak up on the two of them.
"I'm sorry?" the woman says. "You're Sheikah, but I don't…" Her eyes, mostly hidden by winkles, skirt past Sheik to the three of us, lingering on Past Link and me respectively. She nods, though the motion could also be caused by the massive weight of her hair.
"I've been…traveling?" Sheik lies, and I heave a sigh.
"Link?" the woman—Impa—says as she steps around Sheik for a closer look. Her eyes are planted on Past Link, on the scars wrapped around their torso, on the way they still lean on Tetra for support. "It's too soon—you're not—you don't look healed."
Past Link shakes their head. They don't know what she's talking about.
"How long has it been?" I ask. "Since the war?"
"Sixty years. We didn't know if you would ever wake up."
Sixty years. I think of this world's Zelda trapped in battle with a great darkness for sixty years, and I think of the strain in her voice when she spoke in the in between, and I think of how afraid and alone she must be. Sixty years means nothing to Past Link—why would it? They didn't exist before yesterday. The world didn't exist for them before yesterday.
I know we're here for a reason. We have our own world to save, but I also know that we can't leave another world in trouble. I don't care what Sheik says. I'm helping the princess.
Impa looks me over. She notes the similarities between Past Link and myself—no, not the similarities. The identicalities. "I see," she muses. "You three are from the future."
"Future? What—? No," Sheik splutters. When Impa turns a scathing eye on him, he quickly falls silent and scuffs at the dirt with his feet.
"The world does not end here, then. That is good."
"We seek the Lantern of Shadow," I say, though I don't like it when she turns the weight of her stare on me. "Do you know it?"
"Let us return to Kakariko Village," Impa says instead. "We can talk more there."
Of course we can. Because heaven forbid a wise person ever give me a straight answer when I want it.
"How about we talk here?" Tetra demands. She starts to fold her arms but remembers that she's supporting Past Link with one of them, and she has to abort the motion.
Impa pounds the end of her staff into the dirt. "It is not safe. Monsters roam the wilds…among other things."
Din Almighty. Why can't sage people ever just say exactly what they mean the first time around, rather than being as vague and unhelpful as possible? "What other things?" I demand.
But Impa doesn't have to answer. The ground shakes, trembles beneath our feet, and then some…thing appears over the nearest rise. It scuttles through the grass on eight legs, the dark metal of its body gleaming in the sun, lines of blue light etching patterns along the surface, reminiscent of the lines on the slate I found, Past Link's coffin, and the elevator's pedestal.
"It kind of looks like a jar," Tetra says, cocking her head to the side.
"Don't be ridiculous," I say because for some reason the idea that this ominous thing is a pot fills me with inexplicable dread.
Ridiculous, Past Link agrees, sharing a discomfited look with me.
"Guardian Stalker," Impa breathes. "We need to go. I have a cart at the nearest stable."
The thing's head turns one hundred and eighty degrees, revealing an eye just under a ridged brow which locks onto our little group, and the blue veins glow pink, though it's not a nice color. It's actually a very scary color. I no longer like the color pink. The creature hums, something grinding within it, and it starts scurrying towards us. A red dot appears on my chest, a beam stretching all the way back to its eye, rings of red pulsing around it.
"The hell is this!" I squeak. I try to rub the spot away, try to flap my hands through the beam, but it never leaves my chest, doesn't even waver as the Guardian's humming grows in pitch and fervor.
"Run," Impa says calmly. I don't know how a bent, old lady is going to outrun this thing rushing towards us, but I do as she says, turning tail and running, the others right behind me, Sheik scooping Impa up like a child.
"Is the dot still there?" I yell.
"Yes!" Tetra shouts. "Zig zag!"
So I cut to the left and back to the right, and the whole time, I can feel the Guardian's gaze like a hot spot on my neck. The hum becomes higher and louder, and then it dings, almost, and then I'm falling, pushed to the side while the air rings. I hit the ground and roll over. Past Link stands over me, holding something round in their hand which they use to block a great beam of white-blue light back at the Guardian. The deflected blast slams into the Guardian's eye, and the whole thing begins to twitch and splutter, until something within it explodes, and it shudders one last time then collapses on the ground, inert and dark, legs stuck out at odd angles.
"What the fuck?" I yell, slapping my chest a couple of times to make sure I'm intact. "How did you do that?"
Past Link looks at the pot lid in their hand and drops it like it's hot before collapsing o their knees, Tetra a second too late to catch them.
"That is why it is not safe to talk here," Impa says, still in Sheik's arms. She glares at him and whacks him on the head with her staff. "Put me down, young man."
Sheik quickly sets her on her feet and winces, rubbing his head. "Ow."
"Have the Sheikah gone soft in the future?" Impa asks him, hands wrapped around her staff. Sheik gapes at her while Tetra snickers. She helps Past Link stand again—they're shaky and sweaty and even paler than before.
I loop an arm under their other shoulder to take some of the strain off Tetra, and the three of us awkwardly follow Impa and Sheik through the grass and onto a dirt road headed towards an oddly shaped building not far in the distance. A great, wooden horse head sits on top of the frill of a blue roof, the building squat underneath. As we draw closer, I spot a small, open air stable and campfire. A couple of people run around the stacked boxes and barrels and piles of cut wood. I smell smoke and bubbling spices and horses, and the strange mix of scents are oddly comforting—the civilization that we've been missing for so long.
"If I step on a butterfly will I fuck up the future?" I whisper to Tetra.
"What?" she says and gives me a look. "No."
"Okay. Good."
We set Past Link down by the fire while Impa totters off to find her cart and driver. The other people bustling around the stable—carrying produce, brushing the horses—stare at Past Link and myself, and I stare right back at them. These are people from the past. In a way, they're ghosts. When I go home, they'll be long dead and gone, yet here they all stand; a boy throwing a ball to a dog, a woman grooming a horse, a man with an odd haircut and a very short shirt struggling with a backpack twice his size.
No matter what we do here, they will die, one way or another, but maybe we can make sure the way they die isn't bloody and fiery and painful.
I glance over at Sheik. He's purposefully avoiding looking at anything or anyone, probably to make sure he doesn't see any of them as real people because that would mean he has to help them and risk jeopardizing the mission. I don't get it. I don't get him. I thought he was all about helping people.
I turn away from him and crouch down beside Past Link. "How did you do that? That thing with the pot lid?"
They shrug, then their shoulders drop again in exhaustion. I don't know. I just…reacted.
"Well, you definitely saved my life, so thank you."
And you probably saved mine waking me up.
I'm not so sure about that. Past Link is pale and weak, and Impa doesn't think they look fully healed. Dark bags sit under their eyes, and goosebumps prickle their bare flesh. Din, none of us have proper clothes, and we all look ridiculous.
A horse drawn cart trundles around the stable and up to our little circle. Impa sits beside a woman in a white tunic emblazoned with the red Sheikah eye and a straw hat shaped like an upside down canoe. She pushes large, round glasses up her nose as she pulls on the reins and brings the cart to a halt before us.
"Let's go, future kids," Impa says. Her staff is stuck in a holder just behind her and rises up over her head, the gem glittering in the sun. "We need to get to the next stable before sun down. Monsters are more active at night."
Of course they are. Figures we wouldn't be able to escape that.
We climb into the back of the cart, helping Past Link up, and settle ourselves down amongst the sacks of supplies, and then the driver—who Impa introduced as Purah—snaps the reins, and we start to move, the wheels bouncing over the dirt road. I crawl up to the side and sit with my chin and arms resting on top of the cart's side and watch the landscape go by.
The field rolls out all around us, dotted with fluffy trees as the path drifts up and down the gentle hills. I see more of those strange and scary Guardians in the distance, waddling around on their spider legs, though we're too far for their eye to see. Ruins, like the ones we found atop the plateau, break up the grass, all their tumbled edges softened by time and weather. Shadows lurk among the walls, and I can hear things scuffing against the ground—feet, perhaps, or claws, accompanied by the flash of white horn in the sunlight, monsters watching us from the broken windows, but we seem to be too many and moving too fast for them to bother with.
We pass a glittering, blue pond which ripples and splashes as fish leap in and out of the water, and I want to jump right in until I remember that the last time I went swimming was underneath the Lake Temple in the pitch black with things all around me and rocks crashing down, down, down, crushing the life out of Tall Link, trapping him in a dark, wet tomb forever. I no longer want to go swimming, and the glitter on the surface looks like a siren's song. I'm glad when we put it behind us, trundling into a little patch of woods. A deer darts past us, not a care in the world.
When—if—we get home, and when—if—we sort out the whole debacle with the darkness and Rutela's ghost, I'm going traveling, no matter the monsters in the night, and I'm going to see every part of Hyrule. I love the act of traveling—the simple sway of moving from one point to another, of seeing everything in between.
It starts to rain as the sky darkens, and a stable pops up beside a slow flowing river. It looks the same as the last—horse shaped roof, open wall pen—but everyone is inside hiding from the rain. When we come to a stop, Purah jumps down to take care of the horses while Impa leads the rest of us inside. A few low beds ring the wall, though only one of them is occupied. Impa rents the rest of the beds for us. I wonder what would happen if we used our future rupees here—would we cause inflation or screw up their economy or something? Not the time travel question I thought I would be asking.
Sheik sits down on the same bed as me, and I offer him a blanket to snuggle under as the night is getting cold, and we're still only wearing silks. "I feel like you're mad at me," he says once our sides are suitably pressed together for warmth.
"I'm not mad at you," I say. It might be a bit of a lie.
Sheik nudges me. "Yes, you are."
"Fine, maybe I am," I sigh. "Why don't you want to help these people?"
"Of course I want to help them, but we don't know for sure that our interference won't make everything worse."
"We never know if our actions will make things worse," I point out. It's hard to be properly mad at him when he's so warm and we're pressed so closely together. "And yet we still try."
Sheik shakes his head. "Time travel is different. Our actions here could affect not only this time but our own future—present—as well."
"The same could be said about everything we do in our present." I think that's a pretty good point, but Sheik just gives me a sharp look.
"Do you want to return to our time to find that you don't exist? Or that Ilia doesn't exist? Or that all of Hyrule is enslaved to those Guardian things?"
He has a point, but I don't want to admit that; I'm too righteously fired up. I open my mouth to snap off another witty reply, but Tetra pegs a roll at my head, smacking me right in the temple. "Oh my Din, both of you shut up! I want to sleep!"
I rub my face and pout at her. "Hey, that hurt."
"You two are going to argue yourselves into knots, and it won't make any difference because we'll never know for sure, so just shut the hell up." She glares stoutly at us for about ten seconds each before flopping down and flipping over so her back is to us. Past Link lies in the bed beside hers, Impa on the next one over, Purah deep in a sleeping bag on a bed roll next to her.
The mattress is definitely too small for both of us, but Sheik and I lie down on our sides and scoot in close, Sheik's arm over my waist. It's hard to stay mad when he's pressing a kiss to the back of my neck. I tangle my fingers into his and drift off to sleep, back to that odd in between space which now seethes with red and black tentacles. I look around for the princess's golden light, but now, there's only the writhing, coiling mass, strung into a ball before me, feelers searching the empty space. I glance behind me. Tall Link is also nowhere to be found, and for that, I'm glad—I don't think I can bear to see his half-crushed face again.
I turn away from the tentacle-mass and wander off even though I know I'll wind up lost and then stuck in here forever, but curiosity is a fickle thing, and so I float along in the darkness, rubbing at the ache in my palm. I walk in the darkness until shards of light shoot through the in between and break it apart, leaving me lying in bed beside Sheik again.
I swear to Din, if I get sent back to that place to wander aimlessly every single night, I'm going to be super pissed.
We eat breakfast around the campfire outside then it's back into the cart for us, and we're off for Kakariko Village. Narrow rivers bisect the land, strung with wooden bridges, some of which are barely wide enough for us to pass. We only see three other travelers the whole day—one merchant leading a laden donkey and two companions carrying shields and spears and looking warily into the surrounding trees.
Mountains appear in the distance and draw steadily closer as we plod along until we walk in their shadow, the stones close enough to touch, and Purah turns the cart onto a slim thread of a road, a passage through the mountains that winds down into a shaded valley studded with buildings with roofs shaped like Purah's hat. Loose cuckoos strut between the houses, and people dressed like Purah work in small vegetable patches, children chasing each other around our cart. In size and feel, it reminds me a lot of Ordon Village—add some goats and the two places would be nearly identical.
We descend to the very bottom of the valley and stop before the largest building in the village. Two short flights of stairs lead up to the front door, and the whole structure sits atop a short cliff that drops into a clear, lily pad riddled pond, a waterfall splashing down from a ledge far above.
It takes Impa ages to get up the steps, and I try not to seethe with impatience, but it seems like she's doing it on purpose. Purah opens the door for us, and Impa crosses the room to climb on top of a pyramid of orange pillows. A landscape mural hangs behind her, the paper screens all pushed aside to make the floor as open as possible. Sunlight streams through the wide windows and dapples all the wood, and a blue carpet inscribed with Sheikah symbols leads the way up to Impa's pillow throne.
"You four must be cold," Impa says. "Let's get you some clothes before we talk."
I'm going to scream. She's trying to drive me nuts.
Impa pulls a money pouch from within her robes and passes it to Purah. "Why don't you take these three to the store?" Purah nods and ties the bag to her belt while Impa turns her gaze on Past Link. "You stay here. I've been holding onto something for you."
Past Link glances at Tetra, and she nods and sets them down on a stool near Impa's pillow.
Sheik, Tetra, and I follow Purah back out the door and across the way to a shop marked by the blue outline of a shirt. There's a young woman sweeping the stoop, smiling as she ushers us inside.
"Sheikah stealth suit!" Sheik gasps and rushes over to a mannequin wearing a skin tight garb very similar to the one he had on when we first met. Sheik runs his hand down the long, white scarf. "Look. Scarf." His voice gleams.
"I'm very happy for you," I laugh while I start browsing. I finger the sleeve of a red and teal knit tunic. It comes with a leather chest guard, spaulder, and bracers, and has plenty of criss-crossed belts to hold my knives and hookshot.
"Cape!" Tetra shouts and throws a short, navy blue cape over her shoulders.
"Looking good," I say while the shopkeeper helps Sheik fold up the stealth suit.
We get ourselves proper leather boots and trousers—well, I get the trousers; Tetra refuses to get rid of her billowy pants—the Hylian tunic, cape, and Sheik's stealth suit, Purah forking over the rupees from her pouch.
"Thanks," I say to Purah as we leave. "Are you Impa's assistant or something?"
"Her sister, actually. I'm a researcher. I study ancient Sheikah technology like the Guardians and that slate on your hip." Her eyes gleam as she looks down at the device. "Can I study it sometime?"
"Sure?"
"I've also been looking into a de-aging process, but it's not going terribly well."
"De-aging?" I ask. "Is that really possible?"
"In theory. But it's really ruffling my feathers." Purah frowns and angrily adjusts her glasses as she pushes the door pen.
Past Link sits beside Impa, staring at the sky blue tunic in their lap, running their fingers over the white lines. "Change upstairs," Impa suggests.
"What's that?" I ask Past Link when we're upstairs and they've unfolded the tunic to stare at it more fully.
Past Link shrugs. Impa says it's called the Champion's Tunic. Apparently, I wore it…before.
"Do you remember it?"
No. She said all the Champions wore this color. You should have it. They shove the tunic my way, and I take a quick step back, almost falling over as I struggle into my new pants at the same time.
"Me? Why?"
You saved me. You woke me up. I would've slept forever if you hadn't come along.
"You don't know that." The blue is too bright, blindingly bright, flashing in my eyes like a sky that has too many suns lodged in it. The white design down the front reminds me of cuts down flesh, bleeding light, and I feel like if I put it on, it will cut me, too.
I didn't exist before you.
That is way too much to put on me. I recoil another few steps. "Let's just get changed and go see what Impa has to say." I hide myself behind one of the hanging curtains and shed my Gerudo clothes in exchange for the newly bought ones. When I come out, Past Link has found a different tunic, a battered, off-white one that's maybe a little small on them. The Champion's Tunic is nowhere to be seen.
The others are already downstairs when we get there, Tetra wrapped happily in her half cloak while still refusing to cover her midriff, and Sheik's new outfit shows off every single one of his muscles. I've been staring at them in all their bared glory in the desert, but Din, seeing them covered up, hinted at, it's tantalizing, intoxicating, and I just want to unravel that scarf from around his neck, and—
"Are we all ready?" Impa asks, and I drag my eyes away from Sheik's hidden neck.
We settle down on pillows before her dais, and Tetra leans all the way over to nudge me in the ribs and give me a shit-eating grin. "Someone's looking thirsty."
"Shut the fuck up," I hiss back, appalled and terrified that someone else might've heard. Tetra just cackles like she always does and subsides.
"Ten thousand years ago, Calamity Ganon was sealed away by a princess with the blood of the goddess and the help of her appointed knight. I'm sure you know all about the cycle already," Impa begins, and we nod. "Our ancestors left us books of prophecies. Though many of them have been lost or destroyed, we had enough to recognize the signs of Calamity Ganon's second rising. And then we found something in the ground. A machine. It bore Sheikah markings, but it was like nothing we had seen before, even in our records. We found these massive, mechanical beasts as well, oozing slumbering power. Princess Zelda led the attempts to understand them because she thought they would help us win the war, accompanied by you, Link, her appointed knight." She looks at Past Link, and they squirm beneath the weight of her sunken eyes. "She recruited four Champions to bond with the Divine Beasts—as we call them—and pilot them, one from each of the four other races in the land."
Impa sighs and shakes her head, her great braids swinging. "But it didn't all go to plan. Princess Zelda had never been able to connect with her sacred power, and when Calamity Ganon rose, he infected the Guardians, turned them against us. Even the Divine Beasts." Impa's eyes close in sorrow. "You fell, Link, trying to hold him back, and the princess sealed him within the castle, though I fear she cannot hold him there for much longer."
Past Link touches their scars gently. I don't remember.
"And I'm sorry to lay all this on you. If we—if you—can purge Calamity Ganon from the Divine Beasts, maybe we'll have another chance to defeat him all together."
"No." Sheik shoots to his feet. "We cannot interfere. We don't know what consequences that will have on our future."
"And if we don't act?" I yell at him. "What about those consequences?"
"I agree with Sheik," Impa says. She speaks so quietly and so calmly that I almost don't hear her, and it takes a moment for her words to register.
"You what?"
"I agree with Sheik," she repeats. "Our timeline's problems must be solved by someone in this timeline."
"Them?" I point wildly at Past Link. "A stiff breeze could knock them over!"
"Calm down, Sleepy Link," Tetra says and lightly touches my hand as she stands.
I jerk away, nearly falling. "Don't fucking call me that!"
"Your name?" she asks as hurt curls her face.
"His name! His name, bastardized, because I'm not him, none of us are, because isn't he just fucking perfect? Isn't he juts this amazing ideal that none of us could ever dream of living up to? And it's not—it's not—" I run out of words. I don't even really know what I'm trying to say in the first place. I'm just angry, furious, and it's lighting me up inside like a sun crammed into too small a space, and it's going to burn me right up if I don't get out of here, if I don't start to move.
I storm from the room, moving too quickly and too abruptly for anyone to follow. Because it's not fair. Every, what? Generation, couple hundred years, millennium? A kid's life gets ruined—two kids' lives, actually, because of some divine plan and ancient evil? If this goddess, or whatever, is powerful enough to set all this up, then why the hell can't she smite this darkness once and for all rather than consigning kids to torture and terror and pain?
Fuck it.
I'm out. Done. Finished.