Author's Note: Well, here it is. The last chapter of a personally painful story. I'll say right here right now I will rewrite this. This whole story. Not today, damn well not tomorrow, but someday. This story has taken more out of me than any I've ever attempted, and it STILL reaches no longer than 48 pages. At the same time I love and despise this story, it is my pride and my shame. This is the ending I've had planned from the beginning, but the story is far longer than I anticipated. I (hopefully) managed to keep my characters from being any form of Sues- but that's fixable if I failed. But there are holes in my plot and bits left not quite amped to their fullest potential. I'm going to pursue other genres and stories now, I've enormous amounts of ideas backed up. But for those of you who have read this, from the beginning or no, and especially for those of you who reviewed, I thank you from the bottome of my heart. You are why I have not trashed this piece in a fit of despair.

"Thank you."

"It was the least I could do."

"Perhaps… but I thank you all the same."

We were standing on the island in the middle of Lake Hylia. The sun was rolling down behind the mountains, bathing our awkwardness in a red glare.

"Are you certain you don't want help?" He asked me. I could tell that He hoped I would decline, but would not deny it should I accept His help. But then, I was still proud in my way.

"I am certain." I turned to look downhill. The lake was still drained down to the pitiful puddle at its base. "You should go now."

"Yes…" There was a pause. I heard Him turn and begin to walk away, not too quickly, but briskly enough. I did not watch Him leave, but instead crouched in the shadow of the dead tree, and waited His return.

I did not wait long. With the coming dawn I saw His approach, changed from the man who had brought me here. His eyes were more focused, he held himself with more confidence, and less fatigue. This was the Link of this time. This was the Link who would conquer the Water Temple. This was the Hero of Time.

I followed him into the entrance. I reattached myself to his shadow, far easier than trying to follow him in secrecy.

I had never seen so much of the Water Temple. When I lived here, I kept myself locked in my chamber, in the world of mist and fantasy. But my other had no such discrepancy. He entered every doorway, walked ever hall, and battled every enemy. I watched. And I waited.

And then he entered my chamber. I detached myself, and slunk into a corner where I would not be noticed.

I watched Him walk slowly through the mist, warily hunting for the threat he knew must be there. He stopped somewhere near the middle. He looked to the left, and looked to the right, then looked to the tree.

And he saw Me.

I saw Me too, but it was another me, the before Me. It was a peculiar feeling, to watch myself, to reach feebly into my mind to recall the thoughts and reactions I had when this was.

I could see me. No… not me. Him. The True One. The one who was born, the one with a destiny. I was only a copy of this, a Shadow. But a copy is meant to be a backup, in case the Original should fail.

I drew my sword.

The Original would fail. The Copy would rise to take his place. His Future could be mine, a Future of people, of glory, of sweat and blood and battle and blade. The Future was made for those who would take it, those who would be willing to fight for it.

He drew His sword.

We fell to battle.

I would make my own Future.

Needless to say, I lost that battle. The world of mist and a single tree dissipated around me. When he left, I rose. I walked slowly over to my fallen self.

I was breathing shallowly. I opened my eyes and looked up at me. I could see in my eyes the horror and confusion I felt.

I gave no explanation. I owed myself none, and one may have weakened my resolve. But in truth there was only one way to end it all, one way to ensure that I erased my mistake.

I brought the sword down upon myself.

For every moment, there are an infinite number of futures. Each future becomes a moment, with its own infinite number of futures. When the sword fell upon the Shadow, the blade itself brought to an end one such Future.

In a time where the Shadow of a Hero worked for seven years to earn a potion, jobs were left undone, and jobs were completed by others. The Potion Lady of Kakariko Village allowed her Shadow-Making Potions collect dust on the shelf, and a Shadow was made by Goddesses for Link to fight. Juna's cousin survived the Dark age of Gannon, and went on to raise horses on Lon Lon Ranch. Darunia learned first-hand of his people's capture, and was not wounded in the process. People went on in their lives.

Things never were. There were no battles fought on a false mountain, no traumatized citizens whose sins and virtues were split, no mountains raised, no men or women murdered by their selves. Not this time.

There were those who wondered though. Famarre awoke one night from a dream where he had been struck and killed by an arrogant young man. Gornam once felt his back being torn apart by nothing, leaving no mark but burning him into bed rest for a night, until they inexplicably and mercifully stopped. Juna burst into tears one day, crying and screaming, her heart breaking for no reason at all. Etnad never went near a horse in his life.

But these instances faded, and the scars left in time faded into the past, into a Maybe that no longer existed.