Requiem Of A Shadow
I had a name, once, but that was long ago and I can no longer remember what it was.
I'm very old, you see.
They called me Sheik, because that was the only thing they knew for certain. They knew they were conjuring a spirit from ancient times, and that there was only one kind of people back then. Sheikiah. Sheik.
I don't think that was what we called ourselves then, though.
I knew, from the day I was born, that I would be the guide for a boy called The Hero Of Time. I had a destiny. I learned every trick the gods allowed us to know. The crafting of shadows, the crafting of weapons, the art of war, the art of music, I learned it all.
And I grew old and died.
In my later years, I was worried that the prophecy wouldn't be fulfilled. I worried that the shaman was wrong, and I was not the guide, and the boy would be led by an unprepared savage, and it would be all my fault. I remember that clearly, vividly. The utter guilt I shouldered on my deathbed, so much so that it ultimately hastened my demise.
Then, I awakened.
It was raining, cold, and dark. I stood up and brushed off my dress and gazed up into the eyes of the white woman. I felt very, very small.
Her name was Impa, she told me.
I said I didn't know mine.
I was later brought to a cave in a rocky waste. A hideout. Impa told me how the prophecy, the ancient words of my tribe's magic man, had been recorded and filed within thick castle walls. She told me how the time had come for me to be brought back to aid the newfound Hero. She explained that, since the princess Zelda was being frantically searched for anyhow, the child agreed to allow me to inhabit her physical body in order to mask her aura underneath my own.
Thus, the ten year old princess Zelda became the ancient Sheik.
She was still there, underneath the new masculinity of her body and the new crush of another soul. It was her subconscious influence that kept my hair a flaxen blond, and my skin oddly pale. I never looked like that when I was alive, those were her features. I could feel her mind beside mine, could feel her emotions.
That's probably why I fell in love with him.
I remember the exact moment the Sage released him from stasis. My entire body hummed with energy. Every nerve ending was alive with sharp excitement. It was time. It was finally time! My Hero was finally here!
When I met him, I was rather taken aback. He was a quiet, soft- spoken boy. He was small for his age. He was strangely hyper-alert and tense.
He was an absolute mess of a boy.
I felt an overwhelming hatred for the Sage crash over me. He should've let the boy grow up naturally. What I saw before me was not a seventeen year old, nor was he a little boy. Hero was in a class all his own.
I wanted to cry for him. I wanted to hug him and never let go.
I think that might have been Zelda bleeding through.
Instead, I taught him how to play. I taught him magic through music. It was all I could do for him then. He had a world to save, and blubbering on my shoulder would only destroy what little confidence he had. I couldn't let him cry anymore then he could let himself. I had to let him be a man. Or try, rather.
I don't know exactly when it started, but I began watching him more often. He was graceful, dignified, and he held his own against whatever the Bearer of Power threw at him.
After a while I no longer wanted to cry for him. I just plain wanted him. And I knew he was drawn to me as well. It took all my self control not to let him get close. It took all Zelda's self control to reign me in when I began questioning that. But she had one point that she drove home, that would always stop me dead in my tracks.
"You may have been here for seven years, Sheik, but this is still my body. Don't you dare rape me like that."
Now I almost regret listening to her. She got him, in the end. And after the sixth medallion, my work was done. I got the boot. Now I'm just a spirit, and even that's temporary. After Hero defeats the Bearer of Power, my ghostly duties are resolved. I'll cease to exist.
But know this, my dear Zelda. I hate you for doing this to me. For teasing me with life and then ripping it away. I know it's not your fault, but you didn't have to be so hasty in my exorcism. Oh, it was all inevitable, my dear princess, I know that. But I'll have the last laugh. Because I know that he'll only be able to stand your bubbly laughter and girly mannerisms for so long. You know it too, deep inside. He'll never be happy with you, you know it. He'll always wonder where Sheik went, and why you're so different now. He'll always wonder 'what if?'. Because, Zelda, he's my Hero. Mine. He could never be anything else.
It's his destiny.
As for dear old Sheik? My destiny has been fulfilled. My dear Sages and Hero, perhaps I'll see you on the other side.
Maybe now I can rest in peace.
I had a name, once, but that was long ago and I can no longer remember what it was.
I'm very old, you see.
They called me Sheik, because that was the only thing they knew for certain. They knew they were conjuring a spirit from ancient times, and that there was only one kind of people back then. Sheikiah. Sheik.
I don't think that was what we called ourselves then, though.
I knew, from the day I was born, that I would be the guide for a boy called The Hero Of Time. I had a destiny. I learned every trick the gods allowed us to know. The crafting of shadows, the crafting of weapons, the art of war, the art of music, I learned it all.
And I grew old and died.
In my later years, I was worried that the prophecy wouldn't be fulfilled. I worried that the shaman was wrong, and I was not the guide, and the boy would be led by an unprepared savage, and it would be all my fault. I remember that clearly, vividly. The utter guilt I shouldered on my deathbed, so much so that it ultimately hastened my demise.
Then, I awakened.
It was raining, cold, and dark. I stood up and brushed off my dress and gazed up into the eyes of the white woman. I felt very, very small.
Her name was Impa, she told me.
I said I didn't know mine.
I was later brought to a cave in a rocky waste. A hideout. Impa told me how the prophecy, the ancient words of my tribe's magic man, had been recorded and filed within thick castle walls. She told me how the time had come for me to be brought back to aid the newfound Hero. She explained that, since the princess Zelda was being frantically searched for anyhow, the child agreed to allow me to inhabit her physical body in order to mask her aura underneath my own.
Thus, the ten year old princess Zelda became the ancient Sheik.
She was still there, underneath the new masculinity of her body and the new crush of another soul. It was her subconscious influence that kept my hair a flaxen blond, and my skin oddly pale. I never looked like that when I was alive, those were her features. I could feel her mind beside mine, could feel her emotions.
That's probably why I fell in love with him.
I remember the exact moment the Sage released him from stasis. My entire body hummed with energy. Every nerve ending was alive with sharp excitement. It was time. It was finally time! My Hero was finally here!
When I met him, I was rather taken aback. He was a quiet, soft- spoken boy. He was small for his age. He was strangely hyper-alert and tense.
He was an absolute mess of a boy.
I felt an overwhelming hatred for the Sage crash over me. He should've let the boy grow up naturally. What I saw before me was not a seventeen year old, nor was he a little boy. Hero was in a class all his own.
I wanted to cry for him. I wanted to hug him and never let go.
I think that might have been Zelda bleeding through.
Instead, I taught him how to play. I taught him magic through music. It was all I could do for him then. He had a world to save, and blubbering on my shoulder would only destroy what little confidence he had. I couldn't let him cry anymore then he could let himself. I had to let him be a man. Or try, rather.
I don't know exactly when it started, but I began watching him more often. He was graceful, dignified, and he held his own against whatever the Bearer of Power threw at him.
After a while I no longer wanted to cry for him. I just plain wanted him. And I knew he was drawn to me as well. It took all my self control not to let him get close. It took all Zelda's self control to reign me in when I began questioning that. But she had one point that she drove home, that would always stop me dead in my tracks.
"You may have been here for seven years, Sheik, but this is still my body. Don't you dare rape me like that."
Now I almost regret listening to her. She got him, in the end. And after the sixth medallion, my work was done. I got the boot. Now I'm just a spirit, and even that's temporary. After Hero defeats the Bearer of Power, my ghostly duties are resolved. I'll cease to exist.
But know this, my dear Zelda. I hate you for doing this to me. For teasing me with life and then ripping it away. I know it's not your fault, but you didn't have to be so hasty in my exorcism. Oh, it was all inevitable, my dear princess, I know that. But I'll have the last laugh. Because I know that he'll only be able to stand your bubbly laughter and girly mannerisms for so long. You know it too, deep inside. He'll never be happy with you, you know it. He'll always wonder where Sheik went, and why you're so different now. He'll always wonder 'what if?'. Because, Zelda, he's my Hero. Mine. He could never be anything else.
It's his destiny.
As for dear old Sheik? My destiny has been fulfilled. My dear Sages and Hero, perhaps I'll see you on the other side.
Maybe now I can rest in peace.