My first fanfiction for this fandom and it turns out to be the combination of the Chain meets Wild and the theory that BOTW Link is not pre-Calamity Link. Except, maybe, with some twists.

Link looked up to the imposing silhouette of Hyrule Castle. The castle, which was once a symbol of grandeur and power, has laid in ruins brought about by an ancient evil. The humongous entity of malice and destruction prowled above, roaring and snarling at the unseen force chaining it to the place for one hundred years. But even so, it knows, Calamity Ganon knows that the time will soon be ripe. Its prison will soon break apart, and the princess, who carried the burden of keeping it down, will meet her demise at that moment of weakness.

His hands clenched at his sides. The fear and anger bubbling in his chest forced down as he strode to the gates. At the back of his mind, he wondered if these emotions are even his. The legendary horse that person once befriended – Epona is her name – whinnied behind him. Her hooves pawing at the wet cobblestones and remains of Guardians he downed minutes ago. How the horse managed to live for more than a hundred years was beyond him. Or was it perhaps, the Goddess' work at play, who wanted to mold him to the exact replica of her fallen hero?

A humorless chuckle rumbled in his throat. How cruel. Strapped on his back, the Master Sword thrummed in power and divine light. The heat, the burning heat, has become akin to a campfire – warm, yet one wrong move, and he will get burned. Link reminded himself that it is a one-time event. He knew it is only a matter of time before the legendary sword drops its reluctant cooperation and scorch him to ashes.

What a fitting ending for 'the hero of Hyrule'.

The humongous metallic gates swung open at the pull of Magnesis, and the world held its breath as he took his first step into Evil's den. The smell of decay and rust filling his nose as glowing blue eyes swiveled in his direction. Their metallic bodies were covered in grime and moss of one hundred years, creaking and clanking before they exploded into scattered pieces at the tip of his Ancient Arrows. The growls of lesser monsters cut short as they drowned in their blood and their bodies dissolved into black smoke. The Scimitar of the Seven and Daybreaker - weapon and shield swapped temporarily that he has no right to inherit - glistening in red on his hands. The very same color that stained the blue of his Champion's Tunic. A garment that someone like him should not be wearing.

Link.

That was the name the princess called him when he awoke to a world of black and blue. It is the name he claimed for himself and the name that he answers to. The name he brought with him as he journeyed to the desolate lands of a ruined world and carried out the purpose the princess and the last king of this fallen kingdom have given to him. A duty handed to a person brought to the world in a carefully crafted web of lies and deceit.

Now, it is the name that the Goddess-blooded princess – that Zelda – has called him once again.

"…Do you really remember me?"

'Link' looked to her, at those vibrant green eyes that held so much hope that her beloved knight truly remembers her after he was robbed of his memories during a century's worth of slumber and healing. She looked past the burn scars that have discolored the left side of his face, past the long and unkempt honey-blond hair peeking from his hood, and past the blood and grime on his clothes and torn skin. Her eyes settled on his eyes…on his blue, blue eyes that held only recognition from the memories that were not even his and prodded for an answer. An answer that only this body's lips could give, but never his.

"I'm sorry…." His voice was raw in anguish and sorrow for the princess, for crushing the last hope glimmering in those eyes after waiting for someone who was gone one hundred years ago. "I am not him. I am not Link."

Six months, Link garnered, was more than enough for the princess to reacquaint herself with the estranged lands her family ruled for several thousands of years. It was a struggle for Zelda to cope with the ruins of the once-lively kingdom, yet the princess welcomed the change with open arms. The skittish girl has changed to an energetic and curious woman - one who would eagerly poke her nose to anything that catches her interest – in the span of three months. Though more mature and less snarky, she is the very same woman that the fallen hero quietly fell in love with from the memories and emotions he inherited. So much so that he wondered if it was because of those emotions that made him stay at her side for six months, or was it the duty, the knightly vow of her personal knight, of the real Link, that made it so.

In fact, what made him stay in this world a little longer?

He no longer has any reason to. His duty, his purpose of fulfilling the promise of a hero who shall deliver the world from Calamity Ganon, has already come to pass. He was simply just a puppet - an artificial soul crafted by the hands of the Ancient Sheikah and the pity of the Goddess, placed in an empty husk of a body. It is the body once owned by a soul which departed for the afterlife, the soul of a person meant to be the true hero of Hyrule but will never return. He has no origins, no family, no past to anchor himself. He tried once, just once, to kill this body and let the real Link truly rest in peace, but the thought of Zelda, of his princess, mourning another loss so soon breaks his heart. The guilt felt like a bodily hit from a charging Lynel, and he wondered to the heavens above if an artificial soul such as his has any destination at the end.

Link tried to explain, to convince Zelda that he is not her Link. That he has no name, for he is not a real person at all. The princess was too stubborn to heed him, insisting he thought as such because his memories are still fragile and fragmented. Yes, the old Link would not utter a word unless deemed necessary and in her presence – a contrast to him, the Link now, who is approachable and amiable to friends and strangers alike – yet the general differences ended there.

He is still the same glutton she remembered, the gifted and skilled prodigy that shook the foundations of the societal hierarchy at his appointment as the princess' personal knight, and the one who was destined and has fulfilled his destiny in defeating Calamity Ganon. The list went on, and the princess could have prattled his ears off were it not for Purah barging into his modest home about some discovery regarding the history books Zelda nabbed from one of their brief visits back to Hyrule Castle.

He tried distancing himself from her, taking trips away from Hateno by himself, but with his name – Link's name – now well-known to the world, it took only a matter of days and a decent number of threats from the princess to have him return to her side with a head bowed low and to steel himself for a lecture that will go on for hours. It was not just Zelda; even Impa and the Champions' successors seemed to have taken a watchful eye on his activities. He knew that they were worried about him, worried for the wrong person, perhaps chalking it on him missing being out there in the open by himself…and they were half-right. He missed the outside world - the comfort, the freedom, and even the dangers that it nurtures. He only spends a few days in towns and villages if he could help it, especially now that the population has slowly increased over the past months. Him being there felt suffocating. It did not feel right, and he felt that he does not belong.

Where he should be, where he belongs, is in the wilds - the untamable that cultivated him in his journey. The caring mother that served as his cradle and his trial to becoming the hero he was supposed to be. The Link from one hundred years ago is not him. That Link was born and raised within the imposing walls of barracks, unaware of the beauty and splendor that the Golden Goddess Farore had gifted them. He is an impenetrable fortress while he - the replacement, the fake, the imposter - is wild, unrestrained, and unpredictable.

He is not him.

He will never be him.

That is why, at the one hundred nineteenth year of the princess' birth, he left and decided to never look back.