AN: Well, hey, I've gotten over my writers block finally and was able to go back and fix some chapters so I could start posting them. I have up to chapter 17 done so far, but they need to be edited, parts added…arg. Anyway, going on vacation always seems to get me writing again for some reason, so while in Texas this past week I was so happy to get started again. I'll try to get the others edited soon, but I'll post them gradually, so I can buy myself some time to finish this story!
Chapter Eight: Starved of You
Three Days
Kakariko was damaged beyond belief. It was not even safe to approach the village for three days, and when they were finally allowed to go in and assess the total destruction, the numbers were overwhelming. Only a dozen buildings were semi-recognizable through the charred, crumbled lumber and brick that was left. Link and Misa sifted though what had been Misa's home only three days before. Indeed it had been Link's home for a time too. Susan stood sniffling behind them, unable to cope with the disaster that had sprung up so suddenly and shattered her home. Both Link and Misa took a turn holding her, telling her it would be okay, that everything could be rebuilt, and she was comforted. Tear streaked redness did not fit her usually happy green eyes.
The Gorons had not faired much better. Indeed no one would have known if they had survived had it not been for Darunia who, with his power as a Sage, could pass through where normal mortals could not. They were trapped deep within the mountain, buried underneath many feet of newly layered lava. The underground streams that fed into Goron City were luckily not destroyed in the eruption so not all hope was lost, though casualties of this magnitude had not been seen since the coming of Volvagia, the fire dragon whom Link had slain all that time ago. Songs would be sung over this great disaster in the dark days to come. It would be weeks before the Gorons saw light again.
All of this was a heavy burden on Zelda, who in recent days had become terribly ill and troubled. The doctors could find nothing physically wrong with her, but so sickly did the princess look that even Impa was convinced to leave the Sacred Realm and sit by her side. Her body seemed to be sapped of all the strength it had to give and never given a chance to replenish itself. Her nights were more fitful than the days as often she could not sleep. On these nights Impa would sit up and talk to her, like when she was but a child, in the same, deep, rhythmic voice that made Zelda start to feel drowsy and slowly drop off. It was on the third night before the first new moon of summer, which fell on the Summer Solstice, that Zelda found herself in a disturbing dream that she could not wake herself from.
This was five years ago… I remember this place well. I have walked around this quiet village where Impa and I had sought refuge from Ganondorf's dark reign. I was much surprised to learn that the Sheikah had not all fled beyond the sea or faded into the shadows. Often I wondered why Impa had not shared this secret with me before. It had taken her many long years to track them down to these mountains…so far are we from Hyrule! The distance from here to there must be as vast as the ocean! Will I ever see my home again? My heart despairs more and more with each passing year, and yet I am powerless to do anything. This Triforce piece…it is a key and yet at the same time my brand for banishment. If only I could see more clearly what had happened to Link! My visions of him are so clouded as if he to is in some far away land where my mind cannot reach him!
Zelda turned over in her sleep, uncertain and lost in sub-conscience memories of yesteryears. There is a brush of a hand along my brow, but I am too afraid to look up and see the face of that familiar touch. Even in her sleep did Zelda's heart race. She looked up to see the image of someone she had longed to see since their parting all that time ago. His eyes were deep and the color of red earth, and his hair was long and fair. He smiled a marred, yet still handsome smile and she stared at him, for never in all the years had she had a dream so real and in which she could capture his face so clearly. The lines, the curves, the beautiful, beautiful scar he was shamed to have, and always tried to hide from the world. Sheik…she wanted to wail and cry against his chest, but no words would come from her lips. He reached up and framed her face with his hands, as if to read her mind.
"We know one another better than that for you to use that name with me," he said. "Has it been so long that you have forgotten my name?" Zelda was transfixed by his speech that she dare not move or this dream might disappear.
"No, do not think that Ciaràn!" The tears ran silently down her face. "Not one day, not one, has gone by where my heart does not long for you! You must know that!" His eyes were tranquil and solemn.
"I know now, my Heart. Know that it is the same with me for you. I understand why you did not wait."
The pain that grew in Zelda's heart tore her to her innermost core. Why did her mind torment her so? Her love was dead!
"But I did, as long as I could!" she pleaded. "But I had to go, my country was in peril! Please, Ciaràn, do not speak of such things! I fear for this is all I have left of you. You are dead and I will never have you again save in my dreams! Please!" As the tears stung like fire into her cheeks, the young man bent down and kissed her softly, and indeed it truly felt like he was of flesh and blood. Zelda could feel herself waking and she reached out to his to try and hold on, but he slipped out of her grasp and disappeared into the fog.
She sat up with a violent start, her heart racing and the warm tingle of his kiss still on her lips. The fire had burned low and Impa was nowhere to be found in the room for her chair was empty. Zelda was shivering from the awakened emotions brought on by the dream and she bent her head and sobbed until there was nothing left within her. Her mind was a jumble of confused thoughts that she could not even see straight. With an angry pound of her hand on the bed she saw a splash of white against the deep burgundy covers and timidly she looked down to see what she had found among her blankets. Slowly her fingers wrapped around an old, weather beaten rag that looked as if it had gone across the most perilous mountains. She fingered it for a moment, still unsettled by the dream until her eyes shot open and the old cloth fell from her hands. When she retrieved it again her hands were shaking, as she smelled it.
"Impa! Impa!" Zelda shouted frantically, sobbing again at the same time. Impa, not more than a room away resting when Zelda started to yell in a panic and she was there within a heartbeat, fearing that something had happened to her beloved child. When she found Zelda she was clutching a dirty rag and burying her tear stained face within it.
"Impa! It's him! It's Sheik! Ah, Can't you smell him! Oh Din!" She inhaled deeply again, as if she were starved and the scent alone was nourishment. "He left this for me! He was here, in my room! Oh Impa! He's alive!"
Impa looked at her in disbelief with her wise, Sheikahan eyes drifting down to the cloth her princess held. She picked up one end of it, as Zelda made no sign of releasing, and felt the familiar weave of Sheikahan cloth. Impa bent down to smell it as well, and the sweet, earthy scent of the mountains drifted up to remind her of the past. Could it possibly be? Zelda watched her reaction with special care and her bottom lip trembled with emotions. When Impa was struck speechless, Zelda leapt forward and embraced her nursemaid with all of her might, beginning to sob again on her shoulder. Impa, still unsure what to make of all of this, held her child closely and let her cry. Impa looked at the cloth again, still unable to believe…had the boy survived? Was it possible? Or was this somehow a message from the dead? For this cloth was his.