Disclaimer: I do not own any attributes pertaining to The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, including its setting, characters, peoples, and items.
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Chapter 1—Memory
Pain laced through her body as the warm liquid slid down her throat, choking her, suffocating her. Clasping her throat in a vice grip, she tried so hard not to swallow the foul-tasting concoction, but it slid down anyway, past the barrier of her hands as one of the Gerudos continued to dump it from a large clay cup.
She was confused, disoriented, afraid. In the middle of the night, after a day of contented playing, she'd been abruptly abducted from her home in Kokiri Village. The ride, defiantly on a mean horse, had been rough: the gag had left a bitter taste in her mouth, the rope binding her wrists had chaffed her skin so that it became coated with a thin layer of blood, her small body was covered in bruises and her eyes were useless from being blindfolded. She simply could not see after being so long without her sight.
Perhaps it was not that she could not see, it was that there was no light to see by, she thought slightly, listening to the barbaric-sounding chant that was whispered all around her. For a brief second, the concoction was not forced down her throat and she took a deep breath, gagging on the fire that burned permanent damage into her insides.
She was humiliated by her helplessness. It mingled with Roarke's hoarse cry of denial mixed with her name as they carried her away; she'd been helpless from the start. The memory brought tears to her eyes. She had heard him call to her, heard him try to catch her captors…"Wren! NO!"…It seemed so long ago, yet still so close.
A new wave of pain pushed through her thoughts, engulfed her body in a neat and orderly fashion. What were they doing to her? Why were they doing what they were doing? Had she done something wrong? She was but a child to them, a Kokiri…why…?
The hands that groped her held her still as her body began to shift strangely, growing and expanding. Her skin was pulled taunt as her bones pulled against their sockets. Her internal organs turned so that she desperately feared being sick, even as they seemed to elongate. Her head pounded with the steady beat of a war drum. A war drum she feared was not in her head, but real, and with purpose. Her mind slipped away from her body as the pain became simply too much. Black oblivion engulfed her, closed in on her so that she lost consciousness and lay still and dead to the world, while the war drum beat and the chant continued.
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…
…
"Wren! NO!"
