Link rode through the night. This close to the last lands of Hyrule, the Tower all but his, a great and powerful mount to speed him on - as he twisted his fists in the horse's mane and gritted his teeth, bowed his head to wind-whipped grit, he left thoughts of grief and doubt leave him. Just for the moment. They would always be nearby, anyway.
I am here. I have made it at last. The simple thought filled his head with song.
How old was he, now? He'd long lost count of days, weeks, months, years. He knew places, he knew deaths, he knew moments of agony and victory - those above all - and knew how old he was when he left. A boy. Just a boy. Like any other.
Why me? he thought, as he had a million times - but here and now it was different, somehow less-edged. He thought of Ganondorf's head, silently screaming at all that they'd left. Why any of us.
It was nearer than ever before. The night air took on strange smells - like warm light and dewed grass. When he closed his eyes, he saw a dim, sparkling gold.
Had any of his distant selves come this far? He didn't think so - Ganondorf said they had, but what did he know? He admitted he hadn't always won against the many twins of Link. Which this Link took to mean he was too dead to know what happened to them after. Perhaps not - Ganondorf had had unspeakable powers. But Link felt alone.
What if the Tower did not yield to them, either?
And then he remembered the dead, the many dead, the many, many miles. Victories, small and sure. The journey in all it's pitiful romance. It was worth it, he thought fiercely, and the golden glow behind his eyes faded.
No. I've lost it.
But his panic didn't hold. For when he opened his eyes, there it was - smaller than he'd expected, but in the end, he wasn't too surprised. A fat moon had risen behind it, and he jumped down from Grimghest in it's shadow.
As if he couldn't bare to look at it, he swiftly turned his attention to the horse. He unhooked the mouth-piece that gagged the animal, unstrapped the saddle from Grimghest's strong back and let it crash to the ground. The horse did not flinch at the sound of its burden released, but shook his mane defiantly.
Link quickly rubbed the animal down, whispering prayers of thanks and fear as he did. You took me here in moments what would have lasted days. I am afraid of what I'll find at the gate. I'm afraid I'm not worthy. Thank you, thank you. You saved me many nights of worry. Here it is. Here I am. He ended facing the horse, his face pressed against the star bloom on the black muzzle.
"Leave here. Tell them of my return. Those who will still stand to listen. Those who don't spit at my name as they once spat at the name of your Master." He fought tears, and then realized it was hopeless - and more, it was needed. He could not weep in the Tower. He needed to approach the topmost room where the Triforce lay trapped with a heart clean of grief.
So he wept. Grimghest shed a big, horsey tear for his own reasons, and gave what comfort he could.
"Tell them I'm sorry. Tell them I'm so very, very sorry."
He held his breath for a spell, pulling back from the horse, and let it out it a cry that was heard in the dreams of all who'd had faith - and there were many more than he suspected.
"I! Link of Hyrule! Wielder of Courage! I come AT LAST to the Field of Glory! THE QUEST WAS NOT IN VAIN!"
And mothers and fathers wept, and sleeping children stirred, and wives held tight to their husbands; husbands held tighter their wives. He faced the road behind him - the Tower waited at his back.
"It was not in vain," he whispered, and turned.
The moon was peaking around the smooth shoulder of the Tower. A fat moon. It's face was stoic, revealing nothing of it's thoughts. The light it cast showed his all the glory of the thing hidden by the night. It was no dark tower, as he'd feared, but a smooth and shining monument of pearl. Each brick winked at him as the moon rose higher, and when the moon was at it's peak, the whole surface of the Tower shimmered with an uncanny blue glow.
There were windows marking it's surface in an ascending spiral. It was the one at the top he was interested in.
It was the only one that mattered.
The golden glow of the Triforce beckoned, winking out of the window on the Tower's forehead: the godlight of an all-seeing eye.
A voice spoke to him.
Help us.