-Only an Echo-

Abstract light filled the room, a decaying sort of glow. Dimly lighted, it held a dulled brilliance that contradicted itself. Over and over, shadows danced across the walls, on the ceiling, under the floor. Calling of the winter's wind, they leapt and jumped and twirled, playing with the odd light. Slowly, the room became darker, colder, and a moment later, everything simply stopped.

But there were still shadows there, of course. A silhouette of what looked like just water appeared and flickered, toying with his mind. He had been here before, this he knew. But why? And when? Questions seemed to be of no use, and he continued on his way, his hands in front of him, guiding and making sure he did not bump into anything. Slowly but surely, more light enhanced the figure in the room. It was still dark, still shadowed, but had taken on more of a form.

Or had it?

It was hard to tell, for the room was so very dark. And the light? What of the light? Had it left? It was there, yes, but it had gone out. That was the conclusion the shadowy figure came to. And what exactly was this strange figure? The form itself was unsure. It was night, or rather, it was dark; like the night. The night was a fickle thing, often turning darkness into daylight, it was a difficult thing to capture pure night. Night...was that what the form was? Perhaps...

The figure paced further into the strange room, no signs of light showing anymore than they had before. Was this actually a dream? It felt like it, looked like it, but still, everything was indecisive, the room itself couldn't make up its mind. A dream within a dream, even. Anything was possible tonight. Quietly, on wolfos-sleek paws, it pranced in, and the room seemed to become longer, wider, bigger than ever. Yes, the figure decided, he had been here before.

Though was He even a he? It could have easily been a She, for in this odd darkness anything seemed possible. A sound poked its way into the corridor. What type of a sound was it, though? Like water, he decided, it was like water. And the silhouette had disappeared, though the figure was just now noticing that. It was hard to keep a sane mind in a place like this, so filled with absolute shadows.

But what was this? What was this place?

Had light started to fill the room?

It had, the form decided. Yes, this was a room, with water. It was obviously water, and the figure did not know why he hadn't realized it before. His mind...it was his mind. His mind was feeble, his mind was barely there. He was not created to think. Created? Was he even that? Simply borne of Shadowy Death, he could not feel, could he? Then why was he here? Why was he here? In this room, with the darkness, and the strange light, what was he doing here?

The shadow creature, and that was what he was, felt out of place here. He did not belong in this room, in this world even. Breathing, living creatures could enter any moment--unlikely as it was, it could happen. He shuddered, afraid of everything. Afraid of the room, of the light, perhaps even of himself. He felt--no, that was not true, he was unable to feel, was he not? Still, he felt...he felt something.

Feelings.

What were they? He knew. In a way, an abstract way, he knew. He knew what he wanted. He wanted to feel.

The figure sighed, as much as a shadow could sigh. He knew what he wanted; yet it would be a vain attempt to get it. But he could ask, could he not? Could he even speak? Why not try? He opened his mouth, or what he assumed to be his mouth. Inhaling, he stood still.

"I-I-I..." It came out as a stutter, a rambling of syllables. He leaned on the wall, his energy gone after trying to speak. A rage filled him, and he thought that for a moment, maybe this was feeling.

No, he decided. This? This was just living. And he wanted to feel.

Again, he tried.

"I-I w-w-want t-to..." He collapsed at the ground, hugging his knees, yet nothing was there. Just a vague mist of shadow, and it left him feeling terribly cold. But feeling... at least he was feeling, wasn't he?

Speaking took from his so much energy, so much strength. He wallowed in pity for himself, wondering why the Fates had cast upon him such a life like this. Feel, I want too feel, I want to feel, to feel...It repeated itself around and around, yet each time it became even more clouded in confusion. Why couldn't he? Why couldn't he feel?

"I want t-to feel," said the Shadow, struggling to pick himself up off of the watery floor. "I want to feel," and he said it with a certain passion one could only described with the tone of a voice, subtle, soft, yet strong in a different way. And from the air itself, it seemed, came a voice, not of the Shadow's.

"Why would you want to feel?" It asked, with a booming voice, loud enough to shake inside one's soul. The voice was a recognizable one. It was Ganondorf, the Creator, the Master of Evil.

The Shadow shook his head, only being able to echo back words. "Why do you want to feel?" He did not mean for it to come out that way, he did not mean for it to repeat that of what the voice had said. It simply had, and he could not explain. But he wanted to feel, to be real, and to be real, he needed to feel. It was his only dream, his wish, to simply...feel.

Laughing, the voice began once more, "Only an echo, my minion?"

He was taken aback by this sentence.

A minion?

A demon?

That was what he was, wasn't it? But he wanted to be more, he longed to be real, and to feel, yes to feel.

"Only an echo?" It seemed true, too true, for he could only echo back words that had been spoken towards him. But the voice he used this time, possessed a rare strength and at the same moment, an anger.

"And why do you think you are only an echo? What is your purpose?"

Another question, and another step back the Shadow took, afraid of this inquisition. "I want to feel." He said again, hoping that the voice, that terrible voice, would leave him to his thoughts, to his feelings. Or the beginning of them...

"To feel? You wish to feel?"

A hearty laugh broke the silent pause. "What is it that you will accomplish with this 'feeling' of yours?"

"To feel?" But it was not meant in question-format, and immediately he felt like an idiot for doing such. But it was all that he could do--echo.

"But don't you know what your true purpose is, my little minion?" Yes, this was the voice of his master. His creator. But this creator, he had forgotten to put feeling into this Shadow.

Or had he really forgotten?

"I want to feel." A puppet, that was what the Shadow felt like, being pulled in every direction, trying to get away, yet he needed that very pulling to survive. Still, he longed for something else...

"You were made to destroy. Not just to destroy anyone, mind you, but to destroy the Hero of Time. Link. You will destroy him, will you not?"

He shook his head, trembling. "I will feel." This time, he did not echo back his master's words. Was he beginning to feel? Was this the start of feeling?

"No, you will kill, you will kill and complete your duties, and then be destroyed by me."

That? It was no life at all, and the Shadow did not intend on living like that. "No," said the Shadow in a bold manner. "I will feel."

A beat.

The great voice laughed and sighed, a sort of content sigh. "Very well, believe what you wish to. I'll leave you alone with your 'feelings'." Another laugh, and silence once more.

Now the Shadow was left feeling alone, so alone and so miserably so. But it was still feeling. He felt, or he thought he felt, sadness, deep sadness, and longing, too. He longed to get out of this barren, freezing room with water pouring through the floor and to go somewhere, where he could feel. Where everyone felt, not a horrible, terrible place such as this Temple.

Walking quickly, he advanced through the darkness, and things began to get brighter as he did so. He shielded his eyes from the strange light, and before him was a...was a tree. Was it there for him? For his own convenience? What was the purpose of such a thing? Gingerly, he extended a long and spindly finger outward, touching the tree's bark. It was coarse and rough, not at all what he had expected.

And what was that? What had he expected?

This thing, this tree, as he knew what it was called, was here for him. The Creator had placed it here, but why? What was the use of such a dark, drab-looking thing? Although it was alive, it seemed all the more dead after the Shadow touched it. He coiled away, his red eyes squinting, as though trying to understand something. The tree, it was here. It was here for him. But it seemed to have no purpose.

Around the tree was a sort of...island, as he noted that it was the right word. He knew words, yet did not know their meanings. Just as he knew what feeling was, he just didn't know whether he was experiencing it or not.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he walked still closer to the tree, his boots imprinting in the wet sand. He reached out his hands toward a branch, gleaming with black and poisonous thorns. He expected to feel something as the thorn sank into his...not quite flesh, but there was nothing. He did not feel the pain. With a finger from the other hand, he pulled the thorn out, and for some reason, he expected to see blood. There was nothing. No pain, nothing.

Pain.

What was that, really? It was something he was meant not to feel, something he knew of, but he would never feel this thing called pain. It wasn't something good, the Shadow acknowledged that. No, pain was something feared by many, feared by all. Except him.

But what about the thorn?

It made him hurt, not necessarily in a physical way, though. And he didn't see that being hurt was a form of feeling. The Shadow wanted so badly to see blood, to see a sign that he was real. But he ceased to notice blood at all, and instead, felt the feeling, yes, the feeling of disappointment. He felt helplessly, hopelessly alone. Tears came to his eyes, the eyes that could not feel, and there he sat, slumped over at the edge of the tree, crying and dreaming to feel.

"L-love..." said the Shadow.

What was love?

Something foreign; another feeling. Something he did not know, but something he wanted deeply to understand, to feel. It was really just love that he wanted so badly. For it was the one thing he knew he could not have. He did not feel love for his Master, though it would have been possible, he could not feel love for someone so cruel. He proposed the idea that his Creator himself had never felt love, and that was why he had not poured some into the Shadow.

Love.

He repeated the word, again and again and again, rolling it off of his tongue. The Shadow liked the way it sounded. "Love." There was no answer, but it wasn't like he expected one, anyway. What did love mean?

It was the sheer mystery he was interested in, the wonderment of not knowing just what it meant. It was the thrill of knowing about something forbidden, or rather, forbidden to the Shadow. His mind, underdeveloped as it was, raced with ideas of what love could mean. None of the definitions he knew seemed to fit. But what sorts of definitions did he really know? And actually understand?

The Shadow found it a fit time to speak again.

"I want to feel love." This was true, it was true that this was the one feeling he so longed for. Perhaps he would feel it someday. The Shadow laughed at his own vain thoughts. It was very improbable; in fact, it was an impossible thing for the Shadow to ever feel love. It could not, and would not, ever happen.

The Shadow, for the first time, looked imploringly into the water. He gasped at the image. It was his reflection. Did he look like that? Was he that dark? Was that really he? Perhaps not. Perhaps it was an intruder. The Shadow had been trained to fight. He had been created to kill. He unsheathed a sword and glared into the pool of water.

The face glared back, eyeing him. He poked a sword into the water, and likewise, his reflection did, too. Rippling, the image shattered, breaking into little waves of color. The Shadow back away, understanding that the thing in the water would not bring him harm.


He heard a sound, a sound of a door clicking, turning, about to open. He sat up, not knowing what to do. The doorknob was turning, and someone, something was going to enter. Everything seemed to stop, or go in slow motion, to be exact. And then it happened. Someone entered through the door.

In puzzlement, the Shadow wrinkled his brow, frowning at this strange creature. It was his first encounter with anyone other than his Master, actually, the voice of his Master. This--this creature, he was light-colored in flesh, with hair the color of straw and eyes like the water. He was clad in color of all things, green actually. Armed identically to the Shadow, he held a sword, and a quiver of arrows. The Shadow grinned

What was this?

Did he, was he, feeling something right now?

The Shadow decided it would be best to break the deafening silence. With his most favored phrase, he said, "I want to feel."

The Hylian arched a brow at the odd...thing standing before him. It--it was a mirror image of...himself. "You want to want to what? To feel?"

"To feel?" Retorted the Shadow. Strange, he felt...yes, he felt something for this odd character. He couldn't place his finger on it. He was amused at the creature's looks and way of speaking.

"Do you find it funny repeating what I say?" Asked the hero, not amused.

"Do you find it funny repeating what I say?" A laugh flowed out of the Shadow, and without thinking, the Shadow covered his mouth.

Link placed his hands on his hips, annoyed at the childish impersonator. "What are you doing?"

"What are you doing?" Said the Shadow, flirtatiously. Again, he felt a flitter of that unknown emotion, but what was it?

However, Link did not find this so funny. "You..." He said, pointing to the Shadow. "You are one of Ganondorf's minions..." Link drew his sword, advancing toward the Shadow

The Shadow's eyes crossed, in disbelief. "I want to feel!" He said in a desperate attempt to save himself. He...he knew what he felt for this character, this Link creature. It was...it was...

Link lunged forth at the Shadow, his sword clanging against the other's. Through instinct, the Shadow drew his sword and began to fight, trying to stop, trying to speak, trying to end the fight.

"I-I-I..."

The clashing of metal against metal covered it. Once more, he was the form in the dark room, unable to speak, unable to feel. He was back to where he started. Alone again. Alone, and afraid. He fought with his mind, his controlled mind, and not his heart. The Shadow--he did not want to harm this creature, this fleshy, strange creature. No, on the contrary, he felt...something.

"I o-only w-want..." The words dribbled out, into a garbled mess of nothing, masked by the loud sounds. And the flesh-boy, Link, was winning. The Shadow was not trying, he fought with his conscience, tried to disobey instincts, and it drained him of what he had just now gotten. It drained him of what he felt for this boy. It drained him of...love.

Each move Link made, the Shadow copied, a quick game of Simon Says, never stopping, never pausing.

And love...he had loved Link because he was the only one the Shadow would ever see; the only one he could ever love. But now that love, it was lost in Link's blood, it was drowned in the yells of agony. Thoughts of feeling slowly, and a heart-breaking sort of slow at that, depleted as he felt his strength lessening.

"I l-lov--"

"Speak in full sentences, Evil Beast!" Spoke Link, the words coming out harsh and cold, as he had hoped they would.

"Evil beast!" Echoing again, it was the only thing he could do. Why must he always be under the control of his Master?

Over and over, blocking, hitting, smashing, the fight drudged on, never coming to an end. Throughout his primitive mind, the Shadow tried to decipher what love was, but now, it was lost. Lost in the bloodshed, in this battle, it was forever lost.

"Stop the bloody echoing!" Link yelled out, his eyes enlarged with hate. It made him fight stronger than before, too.

"Echoing!" He, the Shadow, cursed his mind for being so thick, for not being able to speak on its own. The words he spoke were stolen from the flesh creature, taken and used, trying to express emotions the Shadow itself did not recognize. A blur of quick movements and hits was what made up the fight, and the Shadow was losing to his instincts.

"I-I love you..." Though only a whisper, it ran through Link's ears, irking his mind. What was this? The Beast in love?

The Shadow gasped at his own boldness. The words...they had come out, this time, not as an echo, not as something he had heard before. He paused for a moment, gazing at his opponent. He knew love. He knew feeling. He...he had finally felt. To his Master's dismay, he had felt. Grinning, he dropped his sword.

There was a rather unholy, confused pause, followed by a deadly silence. What was there to do now? What could be done?

Link, not knowing what else to do, drove he sword through the Shadow. The Shadow fell to the ground, on his knees, but still, he smiled. "I have felt."

"You," said Link, coming closer to the dying form. "You are..."

The Shadow looked up at Link, still smiling. This was the end of his story, the end of him. He thought of what his Master had told him. That he would never be able to feel. Yet here he was, dying, but he had felt. And felt love. Wasn't that the only thing that mattered?

Link stopped and watched the red glow in the Shadow's eyes fade. He was dead. He had loved, he had lost, he had felt. And that was his one true purpose.

Link took one last glance at the fallen Soldier of Darkness. He smirked, he grinned. Walking away, he shook his head and looked towards the ground. Still smiling, he took a deep breath. It's all downhill from now, thought Link, I have defeated my own self, I have fought my other side, but he could never beat me, he decided, pausing, taking a break. Once more, he grinned.



"You were only an echo..."



And maybe it was only Link's imagination, but he could have sworn...He couldn't deny the fact that he heard a reply to his statement. A mumble that sounded more like, "I have felt..." It was hard to tell, for the wind rustled by, shaking the leaves of the scraggly tree...



But perhaps, just perhaps, it was only an...echo...



-end-

-------------------------------------------------------------
-Innocence-

The girl touches the glass-like prism, feeling the smooth, sheer blue surface with an expression of helplessness on her face. She adorns no smile, nor a frown, but rather a look of deadpan distress. Inside the glass case is a boy, around the age of seventeen. He is sleeping--waiting for the years to pass by. His breathing is quiet, or perhaps it is because the prism he is encased in does not let the sound through. Still, he is so peaceful looking, with the face of an angel. He wears a forest green tunic, and a belt the color of a Deku Tree's bark. His blonde hair is spun gold, reflecting the shards of the light coming in through the window.


His face is expressionless, with not a note of any emotion. Perhaps this is because he does not know what is going on; because he was meant to fall asleep for seven years. The princess gazes into his closed eyes, trying to remember what they looked like when opened. They were blue--like that of Lake Hylia's crystal waters. Nay, the waters were once clear. Now, after the doings of a great Evil, there is not a drop of water at all. The lake is simply a crater of emptiness, holding only the memories of a once-prosperous, underwater empire.


"What is to be innocent?"
Asks the princess with a tear,
Afraid of everything,
Afraid of just pure fear.
Around her,
Is a sparse enclosure
Keeping her inside,
Making her hide
From the life she must live,
From all she must give,
For the innocence is gone
And now she is a pawn
In this game of hate,
Of this cruel, harsh fate,
With blood on her hands,
She screams out,
She demands,
And asks "Where did it go?"
Now the blood starts to flow
In her veins,
Stirring pains
And memories of when
She was carefree,
When she could be
Just a little girl,
In the big world,
But childhood went by too fast,
She now wishes it had last,
For everything has cast
Her into a world of deceit
Of lies,
And the princess cries
And she shies
Away, trying to get back
To where there are no attacks,
To a place where she can be
What she is now not,
It's innocence that Zelda's sought,
But now she sits inside to rot,
Wondering where it all went,
When it all left.
When daddy died?
When Impa first cried?
When Ganon lied?
When did it happen,
It's something she can't fathom
Anymore than she can understand,
It's where she stands, though,
It's where she cannot go,
There is no way
To redeem what is lost,
And at any cost,
She cannot have it back,
It is what she now lacks,
Innocence...
Cannot find darkness
In the light.
At certain point,
The innocence
Will start to fade..
Innocence...


And his eyes always held a sort of far-away look. The sort of look that held a hint of mystery. The boy himself was rather a mystery, as well. He had appeared on the day after the princess's prophetic dream, as though he, too, had dreamt of some revelation. With only a faerie, a sword, a shield and the clothes on his back, he believed Zelda's idea that he, and only he, could save Hyrule. Now, looking back on the past, the princess wonders if perhaps she has made a terrible mistake by trusting this boy with the destiny of her land, that maybe, he was not the One. But she knows that it is now to late for second thoughts. The seventh year is nearing, and after that, there is no turning back.


"What is it to be innocent?"
With eyes tormented,
Link's lamented
Of the scars,
And near and far
He's fought the beasts,
And at least
He's tried to regain
What he's lost,
Though there is a thin line
He has crossed,
For he is no longer so innocent,
He has seen the blood,
He has seen it flood,
He has won the fight,
He has gained new might,
But there once was time
When all around him
He could find
Innocence inside his mind,
Where has it gone now?
It's left, yes, but how?
Through all the blood
That has left his scrapes,
From every time he's cursed the fates,
Innocence is lost
Through those,
Innocence cannot be bold,
Cannot stand up and
Win the fight,
It is foolish to anoint
The wounds,
To heal them,
For it is the soul
That must be helped,
And must be felt,
Expressed,
For he has seen too much,
It's just a hunch,
But heroism
Took away the innocence
That once danced in his eyes,
That forbid him to cry,
He's watched that innocence die,
Because it is no longer here,
It is not longer near,
No way to go back,
It's been lost in attack.
Visions of what used to come
Strike him dead,
They make him numb,
And he wants the one thing
He can't have,
The only thing that will
Make him glad,
That'll make things
Just a bit less sad,
That'll make his heart
A bit less bad,
For now he is mad,
Almost insane
From the pain,
From the strain,
From the sheer
Lack of
Innocence...


She still cannot help feeling that she is only the blind, leading another blind. Her head is filled with concepts and ideas, and they are tugging at her strings, trying to make her a bit more unnerved than before. Silence envelops the Temple of Time, and the moment is one of purity. The princess, with her hand still on the glass prism, feels an overwhelming amount of sudden sadness. Her land is in ruins already, and with any more mistakes, it would be destroyed completely. It is all her fault, too, or so she believes. For, if she had not had a dream that night, and if she had not pulled this young boy into her dream along with everyone else, then everything would be like it always had, wouldn't it?


Although it was not written truth, it was what she thought, and no one could convince her otherwise. Though, it was not like there were any Hylians left in the Market Town. They had all died, or fled to Kakariko. The broken sunlight that pours through the window cascades even more down into the room, as though trying to tell the princess that there is still hope. She ignores the warmth and the light, and goes back to being sullen. She feels so alone in the world, like no one could possibly understand her pains and struggles. As she wishes that it would rain, she remembers that it is too dangerous to go outside, and that her wish would only be in vain.


"What is it to be innocent?"
The green-haired girl
Shakes her head,
Not understanding
That the Deku Tree is dead.
It is from her shelter
That she hides,
It is what she cannot abide,
What she does not know,
What she refuses to believe.
At night, it does not leave,
The sense of knowing that
The world isn't so good,
That things aren't as they should,
Still, she believes what the tree
Had told her,
That everyone is good at heart,
And innocence is a start
That will keep the mind healthy,
That will keep the heart wealthy,
It'll make the body stealthy,
But she knows that around her
There are not-so-good things,
There are strings
Attached to what people
Think is the right thing to do,
Yet through and through
They end up crying,
End up lying.
"Why is there pain?"
She asks in vain,
For the answer is there,
In the faces of all,
In the big and the small,
There is pain,
With only hurt to gain,
It is everywhere,
and makes the Sage
Hug her knees
And rock back and forth
Trying to please
Just herself
And also everyone else,
Trying to find out if
Things will ever be different,
If people will always be so flippant
With the decisions
and what they think is the precision
To understand people,
But really,
All that needs to be
Given to all,
The big and small,
Is what is not there.
Saria tries to care,
But it just feels not fair
That the world must suffer so,
And why the homeless
Have no where to go,
But perhaps,
Just perhaps,
All they need
Is
Innocence...



Now, the town is in shambles, with piles of remnants of a better time, a time when everything was as it should be. She considers this. How exactly should it be, really? It was so perfect then...And now, now it is nothing. Now it is a living Hell. There is nothing worthwhile left in the land once known as the Golden Realm. But its age of glory has seemingly passed, and it makes Zelda realize that there must always be a balance. Thinking of the Triforce, she notices the rule of balance again. One cannot have power without having wisdom or courage.


In this situation, Ganondorf needed Zelda and the now-sleeping hero to become even more powerful, but he had failed in all of his crusades to find them and take their power. The power they had was not one that stood out. No, not even the princess herself knows that she is the key to either bringing peace or bringing war. If only she would believe in herself...


"What is to be innocent?"
But Ganondorf,
He already knows,
And it already shows
That he himself
Is not what is it to be innocent.
Inside his prison,
He asks it out loud,
He is proud,
He is ashamed,
But it is himself
Who is to blame
For all the tears
Throughout the years,
And every death
And every theft
Was blamed on him,
Everything grim
Was because of him,
He doesn't deny it
And if he even tried it
He would be dead,
For he is already stuck in the lead,
Drowning in hell,
Yes, it's easy to tell
That he lacked innocence,
But now?
Now he wants it back,
For it is what he lacks,
What would make things
Good again,
But yet again,
He is evil,
His wishes are feeble,
For he will not escape
This life so great,
Always he will be in chains,
Always he will feel the pains
Because he did not have a heart,
Because he got a too-fast start,
Now those mistakes
Hunt him down,
Bring him to the ground,
Staring, he is face to face
With reality's harsh grace,
And soon he will be gone,
Without a trace
For he was lacking.
He was lacking
Innocence...


A single, crystalline tears glides down her fair cheek; a tear of holding a forgotten promise, a promise that had, at a time, held hope. She now, more than ever, felt incredibly alone in the world. The only other one who could, perhaps, feel the same as she, is sleeping before here, imprisoned by the Fates. Why is nothing ever fair? She asks herself, with the tears increasing steadily. They drip onto the glass, separating into more tiny droplets, like the rain. Zelda had wished for rain--and tears seemed to be as much as the Goddesses could give her. She sank towards the ground, her hands reaching towards the untouched boy.


"What is to be innocent?"
Nabooru asks.
Does stealing amount
To being good at all?
Taking from the weak,
The small,
Is not right,
But she must fight
To bring forth a race,
Tall and with grace,
They will survive,
They will stay alive,
Yet they have not
A good heart,
A weakness,
It is a weakness
She will not believe.
"Innocence...
That is not important."
It's something
She can't understand,
Because her people demand
Food and shelter,
But things are so helter-skelter
That sometimes,
When things aren't looking good,
Perhaps if she would be able
To see on the other side,
But no,
It's what she can't abide,
And innocence is just
Not there,
It never will be,
Yet, she doesn't care.
For it is something
She knows not,
But why is that
She wants it sought?
Because what you
Can never have,
Is what you always want,
and it will always tease you,
Always will it taunt,
Try to pierce the skin,
And try to win.
She sits on the sand,
Trying to stand,
Trying not to sink,
Trying to think
Of a way
That tomorrow will be
A better day,
But no ideas are coming,
And she's strumming
Her fingers against the ground,
She feels that she has broken-down,
Standing up is almost impossible,
It's improbable that tomorrow
Will make any difference,
Because it's that same ignorance
That sets her race apart,
But they do have a heart,
It's just that they don't have
That sort of
Innocence...


More torrents of tears fall onto the satin folds of her dress. It is her last unsoiled one left, too. The princess has been forced to destroy all material things that could be evidence to where she was--and the Evil king would stop at nothing to track her down. Impa had made it for her last year, on her sixteenth birthday. There are really no uses for dresses, for the princess has taken on a new identity. When the boy in the prism awakens, she will once again become to the Sheikah warrior, Sheik. At first, the idea was only to evade the minions of Ganondorf, but it would be too dangerous for Zelda to speak to Link in her regular form.


Even now, she knows that she should not be dressed in such attire, but in this point in time, she does not care about being captured by Ganondorf Dragmire. For a moment, the tears stay in beads, sitting on top of the stiff gown. They then sink in, leaving spots of moisture. Her hair falls into her face, and she does not take the time to push to golden strands away. No one will see her; there is no need be pretty. She remembers moments from her shattered childhood. The times when she would always be self-conscious.


"What is it to be innocent?"
It is Sheik,
Or perhaps the princess,
But she must confess,
He doesn't know,
And she cries
Whilst he sighs,
Together, they die,
Remembering all
That is not here,
And everything
They do know fear.
One becoming the other,
It's starting to smother
Each other
In a body not their own,
To be alone
Will never be
The same again
While good times end
And others begin,
They try to fit in,
But half the princess,
Half the Sheikan slayer,
Doesn't make the right impression,
Trying to find
What is not there,
They both know,
They both know
What they are missing,
And it is simply
Innocence...


Looking at the soon-to-be-hero sends icy needles down her back. Chills circulate in her veins--and she feels so very guilty. It was, after all, she who took away seven years of this young lad's life. It was she who also put it in such danger. Everything could be linked back to her, and she felt no longer innocent.


When had it gone, though? The innocence? When she had the dream that night? When she first heard the scream of dying citizen? When she watched Ganondorf Dargmire murder her father, the king? She can not even remember. She still has memories though, of the lighter side of things. Laughing, singing, and playing in the courtyard; these are things she can recall. One day they ended, and the day hadn't been that long ago, had it?


"What is to be innocent?"
The nanny remember,
Impa remembers
The fire's bright embers
That destroyed it all,
The big, the small,
She remember it all,
The death of a race,
She remembers the look on
Everyone's face
As they slowly burned
And she herself turned
Her back on the others,
And even her mother,
She left in hopes
Of a better life,
To end the strife
Of being put down
And being let down,
Yet did she find it?
Did she find it?
She tries to hide it,
Tries to hide the truth,
Yet sometimes it gets on the loose
And gives her a fright,
"In the darkness shines the purest light."
She remembers what her mother said,
But now mother-dear is dead,
So what good will it do?
She has no where to run to,
For the princess needs helping,
She's already yelping,
But no longer in need
Of bedtimes stories to heed,
The princess is no longer little,
No longer so innocent,
Impa is bent
On trying to think that she is,
So she herself will have not
To remember the bad things,
Before the end came,
Before the end
Of her
Innocence...


For a moment, she longed to be little again. To be Daddy's little girl, and the princess of Hyrule. The though was only a fleeting one, and she realizes that she has grown up, and if even given the chance, she would not take it. Growing up...When had that happened, too? Did it start with the end of good things? Fragments of the past are everywhere--in dark corners of alleys where soldiers once breathed their last breath. In ashes that hold the remains of a house. In the well that once held water, and now holds dark shadows. In the sunlight she cannot see....the past is there, and it is everywhere.


Zelda fears for the hero, Link. He must still have the mind of a child. What a terrible fate, to be stuck in another's body. Again, she feels guilty. She is endangering not a seventeen year old man, but a ten year old little boy, one that should still be playing and getting scraped knees, instead of fighting demons and getting broken bones and scars. He is so young, and he must be so fragile...


"What is to be innocent?"
And she broke down crying,
And started lying,
Telling herself
That it wasn't like that,
Telling herself that she wasn't fat,
That people weren't bad,
That she wasn't sad,
Because no one could see
That she just wasn't free,
Longing not to know so much,
Longing just to have the touch
Of a new-child's serenity,
For all around her,
There is no innocence,
In her town, even,
In that safe town,
Innocence has left.
She remembers,
Years back,
When there was an attack,
When there was a real death,
A murder, it was real,
And she couldn't feel
Because she was so young,
But it gave her a new sense,
That is wasn't too safe anymore,
That it was always right to lock the door,
Because all around her,
There is evil
And feeble wishes
For the world to change
Will just make the crazy deranged,
No matter what new laws enforce,
It will always be there, of course.
And in sleep?
Will in the future,
It even be safe?
For already,
There is insanity breeding
Black death,
And each night,
There's a theft,
Innocence has left...
In her life,
Although she is young,
And she likes to have fun,
It is gone...
Innocence...


The girl, nay, the woman, picks herself up off the ground, groping for something to hold onto. She touches the top of the prism, directly above his serene face, and she wishes she could set him free. iImagine that/i, she thinks with a sadistic grin, ifree, in a world like this one of living Hell/i. Her child-like self pulls at the crude thoughts, wondering what happened to the little girl underneath the mask of adulthood. Although it is bright outside, she, in her conscious, believes it to be dark and stormy, like that of her own mind.


She no longer wishes for rain. Zelda looks into his face; the hero's innocent face. It is smooth and unscarred, yet she somehow knows it will not stay that way. He is still a child in the mind, she decides, seeing the shining purity on his face. She laughs to herself, breaking the unbearable silence. Shaking her head, she wonders why she ever wished for rain. All she wants is innocence...


We have seen...
We have seen so much,
We have seen so many things,
And often we've wished to have wings
To fly away from life itself,
So we could live in better health,
But really,
All we want is that forgotten time,
Filled with children's nursery rhymes,
When everything seemed heaven-sent,
All we want...

It's innocence...


----The End----

-------------------------------------------------------

"Link, deliver the final blow to Ganon while I use my powers to hold him down!" Zelda yells at me, her dainty voice only a whisper in the howling winds of fire and hatred around me. If I could freeze time, I would. I'd freeze time right now. I envy everyone. Who else in Hyrule has killed thousands of beings? Only me. Who has had to travel through the very passage of time? Once again, I remain the one who is singled out. During the beginning of my so-called quest, I'd often wonder, why me? Why me, and not some big and strong hylian? What made me so...so different?

Different. A word that separated me from all the other kokiri children in the forest. I was different, awkward, even a freak. I was the no-fairy-boy, the loser, the odd man out. They didn't like me, and I never knew why. As far as Saria would say, "They just haven't gotten to know you." But that was only a lie that she used to comfort me from the cruel tings in life. Saria was my one, true friend. I'd not of survived if it hadn't been for her. She raised me, took care of me, she was a mother to me. That last day in Kokiri Forest...I was confused, hurt, without knowing. I didn't know what had actually happened to the Deku Tree, and I was scared. I was scared of the future. And as I realized later, the future was often frightening. But Saria, she knew, she knew that I was special. She waited on the bridge, and I almost didn't get a chance to say goodbye. but she spoke first, and I'll never forget those eyes. The eyes of a mother saying goodbye to her little boy. The eyes of a devoted friend, a real treasure. I never even said goodbye.

I left the forest, feeling lonely, somehow disappointed. How was I ever going to find a princess? Let alone a castle. The words the great Deku Tree said to me were foreign, strange and gangly. But it all worked out, thank the Goddesses. Zelda was so wise, so wise at such a young age. She had only seconds to think, but she did the right thing by tossing the Ocarina in the moat, where it would be safe. But after she left, safety seemed like a word from the ancient Hylian language. No one was safe from the terror that was Ganon.

But what am I doing? Cleansing my thoughts at the final moment of Ganondorf's destruction. Who would of guessed that it would end like this? No one around, dark skies, re-deads howling in the market. I thought the end would be different, with people cheering, cheering for me. All my life, all I've wanted was a friend. Not one friend, thousands. To be loved throughout the land, to be cared for, for people to talk about me centuries after my achievements. But people will no doubt forget about Link, the great Hero of Time. Shaking my head, I try to be strong, not to break down and weep.

This quest took away my life, my childhood. It took away my soul, and turned me into a killing warrior, a machine. Everyone knows machines have no feelings. That's what this legend has done to me. I used to be care-free, you could even say happy. But happy is now a foreign word, and light won't shine on my face for a time. What will there be after this? A happy Hyrule, with happy people, joyous music, wonderful shops and markets, peace everywhere. What will I do? No princess to save, no monster to slay, no Ganon to fight. It'll just be blank, and no one will care about what I've had to endure. People will think of me as a blank hero. A hero, nothing more. I haven't earned it. I haven't earned much at all. I've killed so much, so much that the total of deaths is countless. It depresses me so. What's the point of hitting Ganondorf with this sword? A sword that's not even my own. Nothing is mine. Not bombs, boots, tunics etcetera. I just found these things along my journey.

I sigh, knowing Zelda will weaken her power if I dawdle too long. With one hit of my sword this great crusade will be over. I look at my strong metal sword. Simple, but powerful. I guess that can describe me as well. I'm simple yet powerful. With a strange feeling of new-found self esteem, I raise the Master Sword over my head and strike. Again I hit him, green body fluid spurts out, making me feel sick. I swing down the blade, finally, it's over.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The Ranch held a gloomy ambiance, as if it was resenting the fact that the moon was planning to fall from the sky. I didn't really have a care though, since I had my ocarina, I could simply return to the first day and take as much time as I wanted to 'save the world so-to-speak. The pale blue instrument was important to me, and it helped me to remember Hyrule whenever I was close to giving up. It especially reminded me of Zelda. I miss her, and I wish I could go back to Hyrule and tell her...

Shaking off thoughts of the past, I raised the ocarina of time to my lips, and as I was about to begin playing the song of time, Tatl flew out from out of my hat, and bumped my wrist. Everything was in slow-motion, and I could almost see it happening before it did. The ocarina flipped out of my hand, and into the air. Tatl later told me of how my eyes were the size of watermelons, at the time, I didn't think it funny, at all. The smooth blue tool came towards the ground quickly, and it was too late, before I could try to catch it, it spiraled to the ground and shattered.

I remember the feeling of terror, and a certain indescribable disbelief was surging through my veins. I couldn't believe what had just happened. That ocarina was the key to saving Termina...it was the key to save my life. Looking at the broken pieces tore through my heart and ripped at my soul. There was no hope anymore, my chances of leaving Termina--no, there was no chance of leaving Termina. I sat on the cold ground for a long time and I wept. I wept not only because I would be dying in Termina, but because I never got to say goodbye to my friends, the ones I loved most.

Navi, especially. She was the reason I even got started on this whole...quest you could say, in the first place. I left because I missed her. As much as I hated to admit it, Navi was the best friend I ever had. She never judged me, never got mad at me, never even lost hope, not once. She was always there helping me and telling me to have faith and keep moving, and eventually, it worked, and I owe it all to her. She listened to me when I needed someone, she always would, no matter what. And I didn't appreciate her at all, I never got to thank her. Right after Zelda turned time back, we parted, without even a goodbye.

At first, I didn't really notice anything gone, but soon, it was as though there was an important chunk of me, gone without a trace; it was Navi. I never, not even once realized how important she was to my life. I cried on the ground for her, because I never got to say goodbye. I wept on that cold hard ground for Navi, wherever she was, I wanted to somehow tell her...tell her that I'm sorry. Tatl was silent as I cried, a very rare sight for the spunky fairy.

I thought about my life, and wondered, why? Why is my life like this? Why can't I turn back time and make things like they used to? When I got back the ocarina, that night with Skull Kid, Zelda said the Goddess of Time was trying to help. Help? What help did she do, I thought. Why did fate choose me to be their...their little experimental boy? Why me? What's so special that time had to cripple me for? That's what I am, a victim of time, an invisible, but as I would soon learn, yet somehow fatal thing.

Time hadn't taken mercy on me at all. No, I was tormented by a force that we only have one word for, time. Time got me into this--this mess. Time got me there, but time couldn't get me out, not in my situation it didn't. I felt so much anger that night, and it was so powerful, I was being taken over by raw emotion. My thoughts didn't stop till around three in the morning, when I finally fell asleep on the tear-soaked grassy plain. The sleep I got that night was light and tiring, it didn't feel like sleep at all, because I knew that there was no way to escape this time, I couldn't do anything.

I woke up only a few hours later, at seven, and contemplated what I would do during that last full day of my life. I couldn't go and get the other four masks I needed, to do that I needed time, much, much more time. I stayed at the ranch, just thinking and remembering everything about life, everything. The good times, and the bad times. Tatl was still awkwardly silent, as if she didn't know what to with herself, but I knew how she felt, she missed someone too. Another, different fairy.

She missed her brother, and I can easily understand how she must've felt. Navi was like a sister, and a friend, the best friend anyone could ever have. But there was nothing I could do to comfort her, as was vice versa. The day went on, and the incessant ticking of the clocks throughout Termina pounded the heavy rhythms into me ears. There's a battle that no one at all can win, and that's the battle of time.

That day, I tried to pay attention to little things, like all the sounds of the ranch; the birds and horses and crickets and everything. Never before had such sweet music been heard by any ears. This new feeling of wonder comforted me slightly, but wore off after an hour when I thought about what would happen that night. I never thought I'd regret dying, nor be afraid of death. But once you're put into the situation I was in, you can't hide from fear, because it gets the best of you and tries to kill you. But maybe you're already dead once the fear sets in. Maybe you're dead all along, and the verb 'living' is nothing but a mask to hide us from the clutches of fear and death.

I looked up into the moon. The eyes...they had changed, they were no longer angry, they too, were scared. The amber orbs pleaded for a hope, a promise of faith, but it was impossible, everything, and nothing was impossible. The moon seemed to look at me, too. The haunting eyes pleaded for me to do something, but like a rock, I was defenseless, and once again, the tears fell freely.

The afternoon was fast, it seemed only minutes before night slowly crept up upon everyone. I thought about Anju and Kafei, and I wondered what they were feeling at this time. Anju, the patient and willowy woman, and Kafei, the wise-beyond-his-years qualities of him. I wondered what would be come of them, and what would become of everyone I couldn't help.

Tatl's once bright and neon yellow light was slowly depleting into a dull glow, her once perky expression changed to that of depression. Her crystal wings hung sadly, she was an image of sorrow. The sky faded slowly into a stunning sunset. Deep crimsons and golden hues were painted across the sky. Perhaps, I thought, the beautiful setting of the sun was a final goodbye, or a reward for staying till the end. The quiet night slowly seeped through all nooks and crannies and came upon the world without a sound.

There was no escape, I couldn't hide, this was the final time. It wasn't some test or temple puzzle, this was Armageddon, the ending of the world. I was still near the shattered ocarina pieces, and without thinking, I scooped them up into my hand and put them in a bottle. How serenely they sat inside their glass case, so impressive and majestic. I guess there are some kinds of beauty that remain unbroken, no matter what state they are in.

Bitter hate for almost everything filled my mind with unbearable pain. The hours ticked into my brain slowly sucked the life out of me without knowing. I looked at Tatl, and her tear-stained face spoke for herself.

"Tatl, leave Termina, fly away. You have wings, use them." I spoke through clenched teeth it was too hard otherwise.

"I can't," The fairy solidly said, "I'm staying with you, till the end. We've already been through so much, I can't save my self without forever feeling an endless guilt!"

Her words split my hear into yet more pieces, and bitter tears formed in my eyes yet again.

"Are you sure?" I couldn't believe her answer, she was, like Navi, a true friend. A true friend stays with you no matter what, even through the destruction of a parallel world.

"I can't go, no now, I'm staying." The fairy nodded once more, smiling through tears. Such wondrous things a smile can do. At that time, I too, smiled. I smiled with a half-grin, not sure of what would become of me, of us, of everyone. Tatl faithfully rested on the tip of my hat, and we sat there, silently, watching and waiting.

The tower struck quickly, counting off the number of hours left. Only five hours left, I thought, only five. The ground rumbled with the moon's pulsing body, once again, I spoke to Tatl.

"Tatl, you have to go, I can't let it end like this way. I can't let two of us die when one of us has the choice to be safe. Fly away, please, for my sake...for Tael's."

The silent orb contemplated my words.

"I-I-I h-h-have to go Link. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but I just can't...I can't bear it. Thank you Link, thank you for all the things you've taught me. I'm sorry."

I knew that it would be this way in the end, if I was her, I too would male the same choice.

"It's OK, I understand. But, could you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, sure thing." She looked intently at me, promises twinkling all about her.

"If you ever meet a fairy..named Navi, tell her...tell her Link says that he's...that he's sorry for the way he treated her, and that she'll always have a special place in heart."

Tatl smiled wearily, "I'll try my best, I promise. Goodbye Link, I'll miss you. You know I'm not too good at emotional stuff or anything, but I really will miss you. You just don't know how hard this is..."

"It's okay, I understand. Fly away, fly free. Get out of here, there's not much time."

"Bye, Link. Goodbye." Without anymore heartfelt words, the fairy flew off, giving a glittering light to the dark sky.

"Goodbye, goodbye." My words fell out almost silently, and even though I knew she couldn't hear me, it felt great to say those words.

The final hour counted off, it was time. A great quake shook the land, and an intense heat suddenly flew down onto everything. I didn't feel any pain though, it was a relief. The heat slowly formed into a flame. The flames formed a wall, a wall of fire slowly out to crash-course onto everything.

I didn't care though, yes, I felt the blistering heat, but it wasn't painful, no, not at all. I silently said goodbye to everyone I knew, even though they couldn't hear me. The fire came closer, and I smiled, welcoming death. Fate works in mysterious ways, yes, but maybe this was for the best. No other time in my existence had I felt such an exuberant uplifting take place in my body.

I was free, truly free. A soft white light flooded into my eyes, and was home, I was finally home, where I belonged.

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I did it out of jealousy, plain and simple, but they'd never suspect me. I was tired of being the maiden-in-distress, the one who needed to be rescued and saved. I wanted for once, just once, to be a hero. To have my name spoken about in great envy. But of course, a princess can't be a hero, now can she? But perhaps a princess can be a murderer...It seemed like it was the only way to end the hero's endless popularity, and that way, of course, was death.

No, it wasn't a spur-of-the-moment sort of thing, murders take time and planning. So whenever Daddy dearest asked me what I was doing up so late in my study, I simply told him I was doing more research and trying to brush up on my Gerudo accent. It was a believable alibi, and he fell for it, every single excuse I made worked like a charm. But those nights in the study were filled with plotting and planning, everything took much care in deciding exactly when and how to end his life.

I had to become more sneaky, and slyly ask Link where he'd be the night of twenty-first of November. It's not that easy to lie, and it seemed especially hard to lie to a hero. But it didn't matter, once I knew where he'd be on that day, the real 'research' began. I still had the engraved dagger that Father had given to me when I turned fourteen, so soon, the weapon problem was dealt with and done. But I had to make sure that there'd be no one around the night of the crime.

Using my wit, I changed my plans and asked Link to meet me in the Grotto by the castle at midnight. I told him I had a surprise for him, and he, obviously enraptured with my natural beauty, obliged in a instant. It almost made me sad to know that he really did love me, but no matter, love and evil intentions don't mix. To make things more believable, I started to spend more time with the blank-eyed fairy boy.

As was planned, he got the impression that I, dear, sweet Princess Zelda was in love, but he'd soon realize that he was wrong...very wrong. I never expected to be so easy, and it made me worry. I worried that maybe someone had been watching me in the study through the window by the desk, or perhaps they had seen me in my room, brandishing my dagger. But it would be impossible to get past me, I'm really quite alert and smart, and the triforce of wisdom helped greatly.

And so the night of the twenty-first approached, and things were going like clockwork. The handsome hero didn't once doubt anything, I figured that once he'd gotten a idea into his head, it was stuck there. And with each day, my jealousy grew. When I went out into town with Link, there were no more bows to me, no more elegant conversation with Lords and Princes, all of my attention was being sucked right out of me and into Link, and that was something that I just couldn't handle.

People gasped and smiled when they saw the great hero walk through the alleys and squares. They humbly asked for autographs. They even asked for him to tell stories of battles at children's parties. No longer did anyone want to meet me, no, all they wanted was a chance to see Mr. Famous Hero. At times, when I was with Link, no one at all recognized me. I was outraged, and this made the murder a bit more bloody and grizzly than planned.

The day of the twenty-first soon came, and I was ready. My plan was to read Link some poetry I had written for him, and him only, and then while I read, I would pause, and lean over him, as if to kiss, and that's when I had planned to make my move. When it was time however, some slight changes were made, but the final product came out just right. Inside a basket I brought with me a vessel of water, a linen to cover it's contents, a small book of poetry, some perfume, and my little dagger.

I was to scream after the death had taken place, and run out of the grotto to find a guard and explain to him what had happened. I don't know why Father hires the men he does, they seem to believe anything nowadays. But soon, the clock struck twelve, and I made my way down to the grotto with my little basket.

I waited, in the dark, and lit a lantern I had before placed inside. The dim light made everything more atmospheric, and my heart raced. I was not only happy, but at the same time, afraid that someone would be on to me and suspect me of the crime. Link promptly entered the grotto at the time I had told him to come, and the poor thing had even brought me a bouquet of red roses. Once again, I almost felt sorry for him, but I quickly remembered of how he'd stolen my crowds of fans.

I walked over to him, hand behind my back, clutching the dagger through gloved fingers, and leaning over to kiss him on the cheek. Apparently, he liked that, and love-stricken man leaned closer to kiss me on the lips. We locked lips, and taking my chance, I stabbed him once, and very quickly in the back. I'll never forget that look of horror and confusion in his eyes, it's something I'll always treasure.

Since he wasn't armed, he slumped over, exposing his back once more. No words were exchanged, and I raised my dagger again and very, very lightly drew a shape on his back, exposing a crimson-outlined heart. Blood oozed everywhere, and I made sure not to get any on me. He wasn't dead yet though, and knowing how sensitive Hylian ears are, upon each one, I made a small incision. And there I watched him moan from loss of blood while his eyes searched me for an explanation.

It was then, that I spoke.

"Oh Link, you could never understand. You always got the glory, and none was ever shared with me. I was jealous, Link, and I still am. Why didn't you give some of that credit to me? I thought we were a team, you and I. The least you could've of done was a make a speech honoring me and my wisdom at that celebrational banquet...

"But of course, you didn't. It didn't once occur to you, that maybe I deserved a little respect? Not even once?" He still looked at me, eyes full of anger.

"I never thought you'd be so greedy, little princess." He snarled, his face pale.

"Am I greedy? Is that what I am? I only wanted some respect, Link! That's all I wanted it! I didn't want to be some ditzy little girl, I wanted for once, to be looked up to for my wisdom, not looks. But you can never understand, Link, and that's what made me do this!" I gestured toward the knife, tears filling my eyes, tears of hate and pure disgust.

"I'm sorry, Zelda."

"You're what?!"

"I said, I'm sorry." He treid his best to look sincere, but byond hs facial expression, was a completely different one, on of arrogance and prejuduce against women.

"Sorry's just not good enough for me! Don't you understand? What more do I need to make it clear to you?"

"Make what clear? I don't even think you know what you're atalking about." He smirked, quite widely for a dying man.

"Make what clear? Make what clear? What do you think this is, Link? Some cherade where I always choose to be the princess wgo needs the rescue? After you defeated Ganon, you were the talk of the town. No body, no body gave me any respect. They ignored me, Link. They swarmed to you, it was you they wanted to meet. No longer did they care about some dumb princess! They flocke dover to chat with a hero, and heroes I guess have a natural tolerance for fame and glory, because you didn't mind the popularity at all!"

"Should I have, Princess? Should I have minded all of that attnetion that I rightily deserved? Yes, I didn't mind it all. Don't think you're the only one in Hyrule who has problems, Zelda, because if you do, you're dead wrong. D'yo hear me? Dead wrong!"

It was too much for me to handle, I took my dagger and threw at him. My aim didn't miss, and it struck true in his chest. I took the dagger with me, and left the grotto, as fast as I could. Making myself cry, the ters ran down my face. I saw the moat, and without thinking, threw the dagger in. From what I saw, it fel through the grate, and would empty out in the river.

The nearby guard sw how I was crying and ran over to me, looking worried.

"Gaurd, I-I-I was m-metting Link in the g-grottom and when I went there...He w-was...he was d-d-dead!"

The quard reacted to my acting and asked him where I had found the body. I told him that itw as too painful for me, and that I had to go up to my room and weep. And he believed me, and I got off with my first murder in a breeze. I don't regret it, not one bit. I did what I thought was nessacary.

And here I am, in my room. I wonder if I've gone a bit mad ever since the quest, but I guess I didn't. So I sit here, in my rocking chair, rocking and plotting...plotting my next murder....

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Here in the forest temple, it's quiet. From the outside entrance by the tree, where I sit, I can hear the slightest sounds with amazing clarity. Everything sounds more clear and clean and new, everything becomes a melodious song. It's how I spend a lot of my time now, listening. Ever since I was awakened as a sage, I've learned to listen, and appreciate the little things. The sounds of a bird, the rustle of the tall grass, the evening crickets, there's so much to hear, and to learn, one would think opportunities were limitless. Perhaps they are...

Conversation here is scarce, and that's why I listen and watch. Sometimes looking can be even more spell-binding than listening. Around here, the grass shines emerald in the light, and moss is soft and moist, thriving on the more crystal droplets of dew. But the sunset, that sunset makes you really think about true beauty, true visual beauty. It starts off with a pinkish glow, a color that resembles a rosy cheeks on winter days. Then the orange lights pour gold over the landscape, and the crimson, that crimson is the element of sheer brilliance. When the colors meld together, such a watery array of light it has, I can't even begin to explain it.

There are other things, too that I do to pass the long days, but the loneliness always sinks in after sunset. Even a sunset like the ones up here can't hide the cold pain I feel when I wonder if I'll ever see my friends again. Especially Link. When I look at my hands, I can't help but wonder; are these really the hands that took care of the Hero of Time? My hands seem so small, so insignificant, but without them, Link might've ceased to survive the first years of his life. Loneliness always seem to creep up on me when I least expect it.

But I should know by now, I should know that it'll never go away, not ever. But I can't cry, it would only worsen the situation, and I can't, I have to stay strong. But it's hard, it's so hard not to just run back to village and never come back here. It's not just the other Kokiri that I miss, it's everything, all the little things. The walks in woods with Link. I remember how we'd sit on that log and talk for hours at a time, just rambling on about everything. I remember waking up and looking up at the bark ceiling of my house, the feeling I got when I'd first step outside after it had rained, that wonderful earthy moist scent. I remember, I remember everything, but memories can't resurrect lost moments and friendships, now can they?

I can't try to hide from the fact that I'll be here for eternity, all alone. Will I ever see my friends again? Will I ever see Link again? I just want to know how he's doing, what he's doing, and if he's okay. The motherly instincts I found when I took care of Link start to sink in often here in the Temple. I love Link, but as a brother, a son, not like the other kind of love...The love that the Deku Tree forbid. I never understood it, either, but there seem to be a lot of things I don't understand these days. It's just that sometimes, I wonder what I'm doing here, why I'm a sage. If I hadn't been the first one to see Link, then I know for sure I wouldn't be here.

It's just so hard to be alone, to be alone for so very long. The days are filled with nothing, and everything is empty. It rained the other day, but I couldn't detect that earthy smell, although I can remember it, I can't remember what it smells like. It made want to burst into tears, like the rain. They are small puddles everywhere, and this morning, I gazed into one, and saw something that frightened me.

People used to tell me how big and alive my eyes were, and how vibrant they seemed. When I looked into the pool of water, I saw my reflection. It had changed. My eyes weren't alive or big or vibrant, they were empty emerald eyes. Over the years, this temple has changed me. I'm not the same, and I can't return to the Saria that I used to be. I don't even know who I am anymore, I'm just a blank-eyed lonely girl, who must forever live by herself. That time by the puddle, it made me wonder what I was doing here, and why I hadn't run away, run from the future, run from the past.

It's impossible though, to live in present day without having at least one thought of what you've encountered in the past or what you're going to do in an hour. These tenses have trapped me into a cycle of nothing. That's what I feel like, nothing at all. Just put here to live in a big place, alone. I wish I could change it though, I wish I could be something again. I never even got a chance to say goodbye to any of my friends, not one, not even one.

Concentration becomes harder each day, and nothing ever changes, like me. And nothing ever will change, but that's what I'm afraid of. Living my life, and never doing something new or meeting other people. But I just can't cry, it's too painful to shed tears over nothing, which is what I feel like. Everything falls into everything else, and the giant hourglass is flipped before it even runs out of sand, it never end, and never will.

As of late, the depression has begun to conquer me, but what is left to conquer? There's no Saria left in my anymore, just a frail little girl, afraid and sad. I take out the ocarina, and study it. It's the only thing I have left to really remind me of my past. The once dark earth-toned instrument now is a pale almost orange color. It too, has faded with time. But am I only a fading flower left to wither with the years? It can't be the way fate designed my life to be, there must be something more that I'm missing. But there's not...there's nothing I can do to stop it.

The ocarina shows signs of wear, small indentions and smudges cover the smooth surface, and the battered little thing looks apologetic for an ocarina. I haven't played on it for so long, because...because I know that that's when the tears will come, and the Deku Tree taught that tears led to misfortune and bad luck, and I wouldn't be able to bear it if my life became even more meaningless.

I want to play, though. How I long to play the notes, the notes of the song that I wrote, my song; Saria's Song. Why are tear forbidden? I ponder the question, but no answer comes to mind. If tears are truly so bad, than I wouldn't want to bring them upon myself. I've never seen a tear, though, and I'm often curious, just to know more about the forbidden things, like love. The ocarina looks so lonely, as must I do, and temptation urges me to play, but I just can't. Disobeying the Deku Tree is--it's never been done before as far as I can remember, and I don't want to find out what will happen.

He's dead though, I tell myself. The Deku Tree Sprout surely can't know all of the forest rules. My thoughts run rampant through my head, and opinions quickly change. It couldn't hurt to try playing again, could it? Are tears really so horrible? The same questions pop in and out, and I can't decide what's right and what's not. I'm so confused, I just don't know anymore, but perhaps tears can help bring back my heritage. I only want to be able to re-live those warm and sunny days, and to remember them always. It seems I have so many requests and questions though, they never end, like me. I never end, but in a different kind of way. The questions can grow and expand and have answers, but what of me? No, I can't change like the setting of the sun, no matter how hard I try, it will always be impossible...maybe tears are the answer....

But now's the not the time to be depressed or lonely, it's not even sunset, but almost late afternoon. I set the ocarina down beside me, trying to rid my mind of these strange new notions. Keeping my mind away from the instrument seems an impossible task, and every minute, I find my self looking at it, staring and wondering the day away. I don't have anything better to do than stare and think though, so I guess there's no harm in just looking and picking it up. A small pattern of vines engraved on the clay winds around it, making it unique.

I remember when the Deku Tree gave each of us our ocarinas. He made each one with a different carving, so that we'd never get them confused, but now, I wonder if he did it to define our personalities somehow. I can't seem to make vines fit with me, and I shake the thought off. Funny, He never gave Link an ocarina, but I guess....I guess it was because he was, well, different than the rest of us. There was something about him, something new and foreign, but none of really thought about the actual differences, we just saw him, and thought he was different without taking time to see beyond those things.

The other forest children never gave him a chance, it was deku-baba-see-deku-baba-do. Mido started it though, he was the one that decided to cast Link out, he chose not to accept him. Because he was the leader, everyone except for me, decided to agree with him. I feel if they had just gotten to know him, then it all would have been so much better. Time eats away at the afternoon, slowly as if purposely trying to make the evening longer, which to me is torture. I can't stand to alone anymore, and I can feel that tears are coming soon. I try to tell myself to stop it, to stop all of this silly thinking and nonsense, but the feeling stays, and no tears fall from these empty eyes.

How tempting it is though, to want to something forbidden, my curious nature can't stop from just wanting, once to cry. Even if it is painful or horrible, or terrible, or even deadly, one day, the tears don't be able to hide anymore, and they'll come out, and I'll be able to know, finally be able to know....Thoughts trail off and start again, and the cycle seems to never end, but it seems as though I'm repeating myself, for that last thought is familiar. I see that time is quickening the pace today for once, suddenly hurrying the sunset, and it seems in a blink of an eye, it's nighttime once more.

And I can tell it is, because of the loneliness. I can stand it no longer, I must play the notes, I must learn, I must remember the forgotten things of my past. I can't go on living like this, being lonely and ranting like this, it's not the way that it should be. I remember how excited I was to become a sage, but it seems the excitement faded quickly, much too quickly. That was back when I was still, well, me.

The quiet becomes intense, and not even the crickets are out tonight, I wonder if they too, are thinking bout doing something drastic and changing their usual schedules. It's not a matter of wanting anymore, I think, it's a matter of needing, and you can't deny some one of the bare necessities.

I feel almost nervous, afraid to play the ocarina again. But there's nothing to lose, I have nothing to lose....I close my eyes, and place my fingers on the cool smoothness of the forest flute, and start to play. I don't think, not once, and it seems to come back naturally. I can't explain the sensational feeling, but it's so wonderful that I can't stop.

The memories float back to the beat of my song, and I feel that I'm growing stronger with each note. There are so many things that are coming back, some many lost times and events. Everything, is flashing back with each beat and sound of my music. For once in a long time, I can call something mine once more, and the song--it's mine, all mine. I can feel the song come to the end, but it's okay, because I have the memories, and can refresh them anytime now.

A particular memory stays in my mind though, one of the not-so-great-times. It's one of Link, though. I remember that day...I knew something wasn't like it usually was. Link didn't come to wake me up in the morning like he had the past times. When I first saw him that morning, he had a fairy. I was surprised, and happy for him, but at the same time, confused. Why would the Deku Tree wait so long to give Link his fairy? I kept my mouth shut though, and asked him about. Out guardian had requested to speak with him in private, and it seemed queer, because...well, it just...I can't explain it.

I waited for him, I waited because I knew that things wouldn't be the same. I sat on the bridge where we always used to talk for hours. During that time, I quietly thought of the things we'd do together, and all the conversations we had over here. The day was misty and moist; a typical day in the forest. He finally did pass through, though, and he almost didn't see me. I had made him an ocarina a while back, and I was planning to give it to him his birthday, but for some reason, that day seemed much more practical.

He didn't speak after I gave it to him, but I could see those forbidden tears about to fall from his eyes, and I understood why he couldn't talk. It was painful, just to watch him run away from his home, without saying a simple goodbye, it was very painful. As he ran, I saw wet dots on the wooden bridge, and knew that they were tears. But I never let those tears come for me, I couldn't. I didn't see Link for seven years except for a brief encounter in the forest meadow. I missed him, I missed everything about him.

The way his hair was wild when he woke up, and how we used to joke about it. The way he'd make me smile by making that monkey face of his... The way he'd pretend he was a warrior. That was all he ever wanted to be in life, a strong warrior. I guess it was because he was always so weak, so vulnerable and susceptible to the boy's tricks. I remember how we would play 'fighter' all day long, it was his dream, and no matter what anyone told him, he never gave up.

I guess you got what you wanted, Link, I think as I feel tears, for once running down my face. The water flows quietly, and it's then that I realize how much I miss him, how important he was. More and more tears fall, and nothing bad has come of them. It's a relief, to finally cry, to let the emotions of loneliness out and be able to cope with the loneliness. I think of Link, and just as the tears were beginning to stop, more and more fall freely, and it seems that I've found what I was looking for.

I can't possibly understand why tears, the wonderful, stress-reliving water drops were forbidden. Why in Hyrule, would anyone want to stop them? I had nothing to fear at all, tears aren't the terrible, horrid things the Deco Tree spoke of, they're sacred. They make dreams come true and help unleash one's soul and spirit.

Looking into the same puddle I had peered into before, I notice that the reflection has changed. Although I still look fragile and week, and my faces is read and tears are falling, my eyes...they've changed. They're not empty or blank, they're brilliant emerald eyes, like they used to be, and it makes more tears well up, but I no longer have to hide from them, I don't have to anymore. A tear falls into my hand, the hands that raised a hero.

The crystalline droplet is an omen of good fortune. Stars are coming out, as if to see the changed me, I'm the old Saria I used to be, and as proof I have this light filled tear to prove it. No longer must I look into that puddle and see a weakling, I see the face of a forest warrior, like Link, because like him, my dreams have come true.