Written to 'Nothing Left to Say' by Imagine Dragons
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He had no idea how long he had been awake; the shadows on the walls played with his vision, as the light seemed to get thinner and thinner. He knew there was nothing left to say, and he was giving up. But below his soul, he could feel an engine, collapsing as it saw the pain. He wished he could block it all out, because he knew he had come too far, too far to see the end, so he kept pushing on and on with no end.
He picked himself up off the floor with his determined and never breaking courage.
The sandpaper-like stone floors scratched at his hands and knees and clothing, relentlessly scuffing and scraping. The dim light allowed his vision to go only so far, as did his consciousness. He laid on the floor what seemed like weeks and years to him, but really only seconds to minutes of a short extension. Huffing, he opened his eyes, a glowing blue to the darkening grays and blacks of the atmosphere around him. He propped his right hand next to himself, using it to push himself off the floor, his left following suit. Slowly, very slowly, he peeled himself off the floor, and tried not to chug his left knee underneath himself too sharply.
The Hero was coming home.
He breathed in-and-out, calming himself and preparing for the next step. Bringing his right leg underneath himself, he tried to set it up so he could attempt to stand. Something went wrong. He felt it in his side, a sharp and piercing pain, jolting and twisting and protesting to his every move, refusing to allow him up, holding him down, killing him, murdering him, bleeding him out slowly… but surely.
Fighting here and everywhere,
Fling red blood into the air,
Slashes, slashes,
The Hero falls down.
He screamed. It pierced the air, loud and clear, clouded in pain and misery and despair, the hope and courage and determination hidden, or completely obliterated. He fell, back to the blood soaked and cold stone ground, breathing quickly trying to recover his senses. He groaned, and tried again to stand.
He picked himself up off the floor with his determined and never breaking courage.
Both arms for support, left leg as anchor, and right leg to bring him up to the standing position. He could literally feel his bones creak, and the pain in his side begin to twist and jolt, but he kept going and ignored the pain. He didn't try to stop voicing his pain, he yelled and gasped and grunted as he struggled to get up to move to live to finish what he had started to finish his destiny. He pulled his right leg underneath him, and stabilized his body.
The Hero was coming home.
As he lifted his upper body into the upright position, he realized one small factor a tad too late. He had moved to fast, and the outcome was a pounding and blinding head-rush that sent him right back to where be began. Landing on his side, he smacked his already hurting head into the ground, coming within inches of unconsciousness, which would have slowly and surely ended him. He shifted so he was lying on his back, trying to breathe and keep his eyes open. He turned his head to the right, looking right at the Master Sword, exactly in the same place as it was from when he first crashed onto the ground. He was giving up hope, looking at the object that to him resembled his destiny, his meaning in life.
Fighting here and everywhere,
Fling red blood into the air,
Slashes, slashes,
The Hero falls down.
He thought of all the people he had seen, all the good things in his life, and the bad as well; the tears and the laughter, and everything that had a meaning to him. Illia, Rusl, Colin, Princess Zelda…Zelda. The person he worried about constantly when nothing else was on his mind. He wondered, "Did I love her? Or is this just a sense of obligation to her that I feel?"
He found himself with a dream: not a hope, and not courage, but a dream and a feeling.
He remembered her face, her sky blue eyes that could be pale one moment, and electric the next. He pictured her brown hair; the blonde highlights cascading and weaving in and out down the tresses. He pictured her thin face, pale and delicate, her frame the same. He remembered her kind gaze and understanding eyes. Her red lips a thin pale red whisper, smiling. He could see her, perfectly. She was reaching to him, and she placed her hand on the side of his face, smiling down at the fallen hero. Link. Link! You mustn't give up yet! I know you can make it through this. Please, Link! Get up! Hyrule needs you… I need you. Please Link, get up! And with her last word, she disappeared, but it was all the hero needed.
He picked himself up off the floor with his determined and never breaking courage.
He began to pick himself up, both arms, left leg, then right. Slowly, surely, and with confidence he stood himself up straight. A head-rush still pursued, but not jolting enough for the courageous hero, the hero with a purpose.
The Hero was coming home.
He picked his first steps slowly, breathing steadily and concentration not on the pain and the ache, but the thought of his princess, his Hyrule, and his destiny. He reached his sword, the sword that represented his purpose, and he picked it up once again. It glowed in his grasp, accepting and approving of her master. He picked up his indestructible shield, much like his spirit, and turned to walk out that goddamned door.
The Hero was coming home.
His blood trailed in drops behind him, but he didn't notice. He looked like death but he didn't care. He was coming home and he wasn't going to stop until he made it.
13to-be-and-to-be-and-to-not-to-be13
One-shot # two. Yeah. So read review, fav, follow, and check out 'Darkness Did Find!'
s/9150545/1/Darkness-Did-Find
1036 words