A new beginning to the end
The heavy metal blade felt comfortable in my hand, as would links throat. But all had to come in time, patience was the virtue. I laughed, Patience. PATIENCE. I roared now, the hilt cringing under my grip from the sword. I had suffered under that thing called patience for a long 100 years. Enough for two lifetimes of these weak mortals, enough time yet for him. I was not a person to feel fear, I am fear. I am FEAR! But it was him, that boy, a mere boy. A child, with more power than he could of imagined and ignorant child. I felt the wound at my skull, a parting of the bone that struck deep, inches.
The only wound that I could not cure made by that forsaken blade. I stopped only to hear and see myself foaming at the mouth in a pool of bloody water that lay at my feet. My hand began a dull ache, covered in the shade of the dark gauntlet blood slithered down my hand on to the desert floor not mixed with rain water. A small gash where my nail had dug in, pain was a thing that I did not feel. There was only one pain, that sword and the pain of failure. Oh, I knew that was a pain I wish not to suffer again. I looked into the dark sky marking my herald and return. The dark clouds that formed and twisted, seeing all too clearly my true essence; a dark twisted form. Muhahaha. How petty this world is how easy it will be. Rumors spread like wild fire over Hyrule. The boy surely must be dead by now. A mirthless humor tingled at me. The disappointment that whispered at me, shame the boy died along with time. A small cruel thought came over; funny the hero of time is cursed with age. I roared, and shook the sands. I laughed my cruel laugh that would shatter the souls of mere people. Yes, mere people, I was now better than them, I always was.
Sand slid under my feet, as they pounded up the slope from the valley of which my prison was held in. The once desert home now became a filling lake. Brown dark water swirled with the coarse sand, fighting to consume the other. Like I would consume this world the rain will consume my home. Reaching the peak of the mound, I turned to see my foot prints fade on to the wind then eventually the water. With a grunt I treaded on, the heavy hefted blade now off my hands the burden of power on my back. Ah, the burden of power. The Golden triangle burned and pulsed in my hand. I could feel its raw numbing and mounting, power. A feeling of fullness and overwhelming was constantly there because of the piece. How would it feel to have all three? The sand slid under me, only to let me fall to the bottom of the mound, I climbed again, my heavy treading. Sweat never touched me, nothing could now. The desert winds blew a fierce. The sword on my back still hung behind the shadow, like I made it to. I could feel the dry sun pounding around me. Ripples of heat rose from the deserts like snakes from the ground, waiting to be greeted. Thoughts did not linger in me. I had enough time to think in that prison, the prison of mind. Being locked away. Muhahaha, what fools! They never bother to take the power away from me, to circumcise me from the Triforce. I knew I could not have gotten out of the realm with out it, funny they did not. A deep cruel laughter shattered across the valley, a chill ran in me, I knew it was my laugh, but it sounded so dark. Then more laughter filled the valley with the beating drops on the water, the thunder echoing its compromise. Funny how there dreams and power and peace of Hyrule would be the very thing that would show them their end.