He gently ran his hand along the rough wooden shaft, clenching it firmly in his other. He was too big to use it as a sword now, even in play. His hands were too large, too powerful; it would break if it hit anything. He didn't really have a need for them any longer, even as torches, and so had abandoned his bundle of the sticks in the deep recesses of the Temple.

"Link!" Navi urged.

He didn't hear her. He had seen this Deku stick lying in the grass and suddenly stopped Epona, who was snorting impatiently. The dry plains that stretched from the Lon Lon Ranch to what had been Hyrule Castle Town were empty of all but the wind, a horse, a fairy, and a boy who was not yet a man. He was a man in body, in courage, in mind, in all but memory. He had not grown up—he had only been.

"Link?" Navi said again.

He looked up at her at smiled a small, sad smile. "Do you remember, Navi? I would play with these…seven years ago…I'd pretend I was fishing, and explore the dark, and…" His voice trailed off as he stared at the Deku stick. He held it tightly in both his hands, remembering what had been, what still might be. "I would try to catch the butterflies."

His list was long. There were so many things he was saving Hyrule for, not the least of which was the still-fresh memory of the fear in Princess Zelda's eyes as the clouds of storm engulfed the world. For the Zora, for Malon, for the people of Hyrule Castle Town and the broken memories of Kakariko…

And for the butterflies. Link had not seen a single butterfly, even on the brightest of days, since growing older. The sun still shone, but it was over an empty world. The flowers still grew in their clutches of sunlight, but were forsaken.

After a time, he placed the Deku stick back in the grass and stood up slowly, almost reverentially. Quickly, he turned and mounted Epona, intent on reaching Kakariko before nightfall. For the temple that lay in darkness there, for the people who lived in shadow…

For the childhood he had sworn to regain…

For the butterflies…