Lost Soul
Jiia-chan here! Another little fanfiction here. This is MY idea of what happened to Shiek. There is a bit of shonen-ai, but more like the fanatical, obsessive stalker kind than anything else. Written while listening nonstop to Touched by Vast. Blame them, please. Oh yea, I don't own anything Zelda, except two games, a poster, two books and a Ganny plushie. Hurrah for Ganny! Anyway, enjoy my little blurt of insanity! And the random poetry bits were written when I was bored in science, and inspired this. Have fun, boys and girls!
For a little instant
Our dancing threads entwine
Fate makes us come together
Guided by the Divine
How could this be coincidence? He asked himself, looking down upon the green-clad form of his unknowing charge. The names, the dates, the appearances of the players in this most complex of dramas. They all fit too perfectly into the puzzle. This had to be the workings of Destiny. And yet how could Destiny exert such control over every aspect of every individual's life for so long? This story had been going on for centuries, if no millennia. How could it be so far-reaching?
But there was no denying the perplexed boy standing in the empty clearing. By no stretch of the imagination could one look at the distinctive form and not see the hands of fate shaping him into a figure from century-old copies of century-old copies of history books. From the green tunic to that stupid pointed green hat, he had jumped from the texts Sheik had studied all his life. The Hero of Time, not just leaping between the future and the present, but also from the distant, distant past. It made him sad to think that the entire life of this innocent young boy had been planned an age ago. That his own life had been planned.
The boy looked about, yet continued down the beaten dirt path that cut through the clearing, placing each foot on the overgrown ground with a caution that betrayed the age of his spirit. His caution was proven well-founded as the hunched and malformed Wolfos leapt from the hidden grotto with the surprising agility characteristic of the mutated beasts. Without even taking time to think, the lad had downed the creature with the hidden treasure of his adopted people. There was no doubt, this child was the Hero of time. Whether that honoured title was a blessing or a curse had yet to be determined.
The child watched the writhing carcass burst into blue flames with a chilling coldness that hinted towards the latter. This was no child. His childhood had ended the moment he had first taken a sword in hand and used it to destroy the life of a living creature. That he had been raised among the Kokiri, who revered life above all things, was the ultimate cruel irony. The protectors of life had raised a killer.
Still, watching the deceptively young body bounce through the tall grass, Sheik had to wonder if he would be ready to make the sacrifices required of him. Spilling the lifeblood of malformed and unnatural monsters created by evil was one thing. Killing a man outright was another all together. It would destroy what was left of his soul.
Your tattered heart lies broken
Mocked by those above
Sorrow is your only joy
Hate your only love.
Sheik wept in silence as he watched his sole reason for living re-appear under the bent and twisted tree. He could see, even from this distance, the cold detachment that had come over the young man since his latest trials in that under-water hell. Even though his tears, Sheik had to laugh at Ganondorf's incompetence. In trying to defeat his only rival, he had given Link the ability to drive that Master Sword through his chest. Sheik had used his powers to watch the battle between the man and his shadow. In a way, the shadow had won, for the man that walked out could not possibly be the same man who entered that temple. He had killed himself, and now his soul was dead.
He buried his blond-haired head in his hands and allowed the bitter tears to flow. This wasn't part of the plan. This wasn't something his people of scholars had prepared him for. He was supposed to be the observer, the guide, who brought the Hero of Time to the road that would lead him to his destiny. He was supposed to be impartial. He wasn't supposed to love him.
He remembered Lady Impa's harsh retorts to his pleas to meet the hero, outside the harsh boundaries of the meetings prescribed by Destiny. He had been born to push Link in the right direction, not become his friend. It was not meant to be.
Love and Destiny worked along separate tracks, he supposed. The unions that had brought all the current players into being had been political and arranged marriages, rapes, and mistakes. They had nothing to do with love, and love often seemed to contradict the plans of Fate. This seemed to be another one of those times. His love for the Hero of Time got in the way of his duties. How could he keep his distance when he so wanted to be close? How could he allow his love to be hurt when he had the powers to help him? How could he allow him to fall, knowing it would ruin him? How could he allow this horrible destiny to come to its terrible conclusion?
How could he let his love loose his soul?
My love for you eternal
Makes me want to scream
I cannot defend you
From your waking dream.
Sheik nervously paced the length of the massive Temple of Time. The last month had been hell for him, and it showed. His hair fell limply into his face, and his eyes had the desperate look of a man who hasn't slept in days. Watching Link go cold had been almost too much for him to bear. Every time he had shut his eyes, he had seen Link standing over him, his sword to his throat, that cold, dispassionate look draining the life from his ice blue eyes. He had stopped trying to sleep, and was almost dead on his feet. And now, he waited to fulfill his final task- To give Link the weapon he would need to destroy what was left of his soul.
He had made his decision some time ago, although it had taken a while for him to realize it. He could never allow the one thing he held dear to be destroyed. He wasn't going to play along with Destiny's stupid game anymore. Link was his only god, his obsession, his reason to live. He couldn't stand back and watch Link destroy himself for a world that had given him nothing but misery.
He took the precious Light Arrow in his hands. He was holding the thing that would save the world. And he was going to break it in half. He was dooming the world to save one already-doomed man. And, for the first time in his life, he was feeling joy.
He felt the impact on his back, but if didn't really register until he looked down and saw the blood-flecked tip of the dagger sticking out of his chest. It was hard to breathe. His breath rattled in his chest as his lungs filled up with blood. He watched the tip disappear back into his body and felt himself falling to the floor, but he felt no pain. In his blurring vision, he saw the long folds of the immaculate pink shuffling as the wearer stepped gracefully to his side, hitching her skirt up to avoid staining the hem of her skirt in the blood that pooled around him. Familiar blue eyes stared down at him with the frightful detachment brought on by the rational mind.
"What did you think you were going to do, Sheik? Were you trying to save your precious little hero? Can't you see the hole in your plan? Where will you two lovebirds go if there's no more world to hold you? Silly, silly boy." She laughed, although there was no joy in it.
"You're… Insane…." He whispered, as louder speech seemed impossible.
Once again, that cold, empty laugh. "No, I'm completely sane, which is in some ways, far, far worse. I'll meet you in Hell, Sheik." She patted him on the shoulder and stood, the folds of her skirt rustling as she walked away, the Light Arrow in her soft, delicate, royal, bloody hand.
In death I find my Solace
In betrayal I find my fate
For I have come to love you
Me you've come to hate.
