Guess who's back?! It's meeee!

Okay, let me just preface this chapter with how deeply and totally honored I am to have gotten so much support for this story. I cannot thank each of my viewers enough - you really make my day with your comments and support. It honestly is the best fuel for writing a girl could ask for. So THANK YOU! Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read my work.

As for the story goes, I hope you enjoy this update. It's considerably longer, but that's because quite a lot happens, here. The next chapter will be a bit shorter, so it'll take less time to write.

One last thing: I'm going to try my best to get updates out every 3 or 4 days, or so. Keep an eye out!

Enjoy! And pardon any errors, as always.

A lifetime seemed to pass for Link as he knelt within the belfry, his body as numb as his brain. In reality, only a few minutes had passed since the girl plead for his help and withdrew from him, leaving his mind as thick and dark as the twisting shadows engulfing Hyrule Castle.

Her return and sudden absence had utterly destroyed him in both mind and body. Were he not so paralyzed before, he would have begged for her to stay with him; moreso then than ever, when he feared his terror of Calamity Ganon would rend him into nothing. But his first sights of the beast throttled his voice. Without saying another word, she suddenly vanished back into its foul clutches.

He wasn't sure how many more times he could bear losing her: it felt as if his soul were being ripped from his body when she pulled her light from him. He physically ached without her, his muscles inexplicably sore, his bones stiff, his head throbbing. She seemed to be the only thing keeping him from falling apart.

Looking on toward the castle, he strained to see her light, again, but it never showed. He sighed and leaned his heavy head against the empty window, staring longingly at the tendrils of corruption lacing between the castle's spires. She was in those walls, somewhere, staving off the beast's wrath — and she was facing it alone. Somehow his heart managed to wither further in his chest for her.

As he gazed at the castle, his mind boiled with dread at the memory of what he had witnessed, and what he had been called to do. How could he take on this task, to kill a monster threatening the world — when he was a monster himself? Why did she think he could do it? What about him made him worthy? With the discovery of his appearance, he hardly felt worthy of her grace, let alone the title of hero.

No, he wasn't a hero. He was a monster. The old man had said so. His cruel words blasted back into his head with painful bursts, almost as if they were being shouted at him, again.

His mind swarming with the day's events, Link shuddered at the reality he found himself in. There he knelt, a lone, amnesiac, monstrous fallen hero tasked with slaying an unholy demon. The beast… Even Calamity Ganon… The mere thought of that hellish creature putrefied whatever resolve he thought he had mustered. As the vision of it bled back into his mind, his headache gained its second wind. He pinched his eyes shut, hoping to rid his mind of the image.

No matter how much he tried to deny it, however, he couldn't shake the notion that he and the beast were connected. Their similarities were undeniable — a pair of horns, wicked amber eyes, that magenta glow coursing through their dark bodies… It was an inescapable truth that he was hopelessly outrunning. But their similarities only raised another question.

Why?

Why were Link and Calamity Ganon so alike? He had no idea. He doubted she knew, either. Though the question gnawed at him, it was no use spraining his brain to try and figure it out. He'd only give himself another headache he didn't need.

But of the multitude of questions he didn't have answers to, he did know this: he might not have been able to remember what she looked like, nor even remember her name, but he knew that she believed he could rescue Hyrule from certain destruction.

Whether he was a monster or not, she believed in him when nobody else did. Her faith shone through the distance between them and the darkness of her prison — a fact that filled him with hope. A trembling hope in the face of Calamity Ganon, yes, but hope nonetheless. And where there was hope, there was courage.

That courage began to burn within him as the thought of her light cleared the smog in his mind, steadying his fluttering heart and giving him strength. He couldn't leave her to face Calamity Ganon on her own. She had done so much for him that he absolutely had to offer his help, and that entailed overcoming his fears and rising to the challenge. That would prove easier said than done, but if she believed in him, then he could stand to believe a little in himself.

Right. He knew the path he was to take: he had to leave the belfry, gather supplies, and set out to Hyrule Castle. Whether he was ready or not, it was time to move. She couldn't wait forever.

With a motivating exhale, Link got to his feet, patting away the dust clinging to the knees of his pants. Before he descended the church, he thought he ought to have a look around from his vantage point, mapping places of interest to aid his needs. He roamed from window to window, scanning the horizon, taking mental note of the scattered ponds and clusters of trees dotting the rolling, grassy terrain, as well as the skeletal remains of the abbey below. He would search there first. It might hold something worthwhile.

Before he set out, he gave the castle in the distance one final glance.

"I'm coming," he promised. "Just hold on."

With that, Link left the belfry at his back and skirted along the rooftop, finding the ladder and quickly sliding down. He paused for a moment when he hit the ground, the back of his neck tingling. Something was eating at him — he had to check if he had been seeing things, before.

Slowly, like tiptoeing into the den of a wolf, he poked his head around the wall and laid eyes on the statue at the back of the church. She stood quietly on her pedestal, unchanged, gazing with closed eyes into her glassy pond. When he again laid his eyes on her face, he found that her smile had returned.

It seemed a good omen — it brought a faint smile to his lips, as well.

Now armed with a spring in his step, Link splashed along the rubble and hurried down several staircases, finding himself once again amidst the crumbling figures of the abbey. As he stepped into the first structure, he cast his eyes across his surroundings, wary of movement.

The old man had disappeared near there, and the last thing he wanted was a surprise while his back was turned. Thankfully, his only company was the breeze playing in the grass. With the coast clear, he began his search.

At first, he found very little in the way of supplies. Nature and time had stripped the abbey of any leftovers of civilization, replacing them with skittish wildlife hiding in the undergrowth. Several sun-brittled wooden barrels lay in a few corners, but they were half-shattered and contained nothing. He turned over piles of bricks to uncover moss and startled insects, and scattered butterflies as he went. He peeked under a fallen pillar to discover the scraps of an abandoned bird's nest, a few rock-hard acorns stashed inside. He was hoping for eggs, but the acorns were better than nothing. He scooped them up and continued sifting through the ruins.

Link had scoured four structures by that point, with only a handful of acorns for his efforts. He was starting to lose hope. But it was in the final building that his patience was rewarded; it stood a ways off from the rest of the abbey, beside a plaza with a dried fountain at its heart.

He ducked under a sunken archway and entered the remains of the building. Most of the ceiling had caved in to the interior, making it difficult to explore, but he managed. As he rifled through the fallen stonework, his eyes lit up when he unearthed several chests, each secured with weathered locks. It appeared they hadn't been touched in over one hundred years. Energized at his discovery, he quickly grabbed a brick and smashed his way into them.

Upon examining the contents of the chests, it occurred to him that perhaps this building had once been an armory or a storage facility: each chest contained travel gear, the items worn with time, but in decent enough condition. They would suit his needs for the time being.

He removed from the first chest a wide, battered shield, scratched and flaking with rust. The leather strap at the back was remarkably intact, so he slung it over his back. In the next, a few swords still in their scabbards; the first, like the shield, was striped with rust, but usable. It felt right in his hand, though he wasn't sure how long it would last.

But the second sword left much to be desired — when Link slid it out of the scabbard to inspect it, he found it had shattered over time, the blade only extending a few inches from its hilt. He couldn't do much with a broken sword, and it was too short to use as a dagger, so he left it where he found it.

To his disappointment, he didn't find a bow in the final chest — only an empty, petrified wooden quiver, which he still took — but he did find a series of leather traveler's bags and belts. They were a tad crusted with age, and he had to shake out a few spiderwebs, but they fit around him well and provided him with plenty of carrying capacity.

He took the opportunity to stash his acorns in the smallest bag on his hip. They rattled around as he clambered out of the collapsed building — the sound pleased him, as did his findings. He felt a bit more ready to handle the brave new world. For some strange reason, the weight of the equipment on his back filled him with a sense of familiarity and comfort. But perhaps he just appreciated feeling prepared?

With the treasures of the abbey exhausted, Link looked around for other places to scavenge. He wanted to find as much as he could carry before making his way to the castle. However, he didn't get very far in his search, for something stopped him — his stomach knotted up, giving a low growl. He grit his teeth as a pang of hunger stabbed his gut, his hand automatically flying to his abdomen.

It suddenly dawned on him that it had been one hundred years since he'd eaten anything. The thought was a strange one, and he was amazed his hunger had only reared itself just then. But, knowing his day so far, he was just glad his body was catching up.

Before he found anything else, he needed to find something to eat… and fast. He didn't care what it was, so long as it wasn't acorns.

Thankfully for him, nature was happy to provide. The memory of a nearby grove of apple trees sprung to life in his mind, and he practically tripped over himself to get to them. When at last he arrived, the sight of the trees and the bright, glistening crimson fruits in their branches drove his stomach wild, and he busied himself over the next little while scaling the boughs to pick his fill.

After gathering an armful of apples, he sat himself down in the shade of an old oak, shining the biggest one he had picked on his shirt. He briefly looked it over in his hand before biting into its vibrant, gold-flecked skin. Chewing, he flopped into the tree at his back, relishing in the apple's crisp, sweet flesh dissolving against his tongue. A delicate spray of juice cascaded off of the apple with each bite he took, the aroma tingling his nose, sending his senses into euphoria.

Link sighed and shut his eyes, resting his head against the tree. In that moment, he forgot his fears, his face, and his foes. He was perfectly content in the shade of that tree, tasting life again for the first time in one hundred years.

Satisfying a centuries-long fast, he ravenously gouged out mouthfuls of his apple until only the seeds and stem remained. He cast them aside, grabbing another apple from the pile. After attacking it, too, he spat out the seeds and took up another. As the sun reached its apex in the sky, he ate apple after apple until his empty stomach was pleasantly full.

Relaxing for just a moment more, he seized the time he had to listen to the wind brush through the grove. Crickets chirped in the grass and leaves whispered together overhead, sunlight glittering on the dewy blades. It was hard to believe this peaceful world lingered on the brink of annihilation, but that was all the more motivation to save it from Calamity Ganon.

Link had been enjoying his meal when a chill darted up his neck, breaking his solace. He sat up, glancing around, his hand finding the hilt of his sword. He felt a pair of eyes on him, again, and he had a sneaking suspicion of who they belonged to.

Sure enough, he was right. Link found his guest standing up the hill a ways off, near a plume of smoke rising from a campfire. He recognized the tall, dark, and stocky silhouette of the old man with his walking stick, stood near the spot where they had spoken before. Even at that distance, his face still burned under the old man's hard stare, and it only brought back unpleasant memories.

Link's smile faded to a firm line. He had sought help from the old man earlier, but he definitely didn't want it then. While maintaining eye contact with him, Link opened his travel pack and swept his apples inside it, eager to find another place to scavenge. He thought he'd try one of the ponds he had seen from the belfry — they were plenty far away from there. The old man was the last person he wanted to talk to at the moment.

Without acknowledging him further, Link shouldered his pack and strode deeper into the forest.

Truth be told, he didn't hate the old man — he simply wanted nothing to do with him and his cruelty. After seeing his own frightening face, Link could certainly understand the old man's treatment of him, but that didn't make it sting any less. He'd rather avoid being demonized for something he couldn't help; he had enough on his mind to worry about, his startling appearance being one of them.

Link turned his mind away from the old man as he walked between the pockets of shade cast by the trees, birdsong filling his ears. He hoped to find a bow of some sort at the pond, but he wasn't counting on it. Maybe he could fashion himself a slingshot, or carve out a spear from a branch; he needed more weapons besides the rusty sword. Even if he didn't find any other weapons, he definitely hoped to find extra provisions — perhaps some fish, maybe some berries. He'd have to see what the pond offered him.

At length, he emerged through the treeline onto a small hill, overlooking a collection of ponds strewn across a flat stretch of grassland. The biggest pond caught his eye in particular, its surface spotted with lily pads, with a dark island jutting from its furthest bank. The island stuck out considerably amidst the greenery around it, which puzzled Link. Now curious, he slid down the hill and approached the pond's edge, running his eyes over the island.

It was undoubtedly the strangest island he had ever seen, resembling more of an enormous, leaning pillar, totally blackened by age and mottled with moss. He carefully stretched his arm out over the water to touch it, his fingertips meeting cold, smooth stone. Though he struggled to see it for the moss, he found that the island was elegantly embellished, with thick, swirling designs carving deep grooves and valleys in its surface. As he admired them, the decorations jogged his memory. Where had he seen these designs before?

Then it hit him — the Sheikah Slate. He removed it from his belt and held it up to the island, comparing the two. They were both made of the same dark stone and ornamented with swirling patterns — definitely cut from the same mold, or perhaps, carved by the same hands. The Slate lacked the weathering, however, making him believe that the island (if he could call it that, anyway) had sat in the pond for a century.

Now that he had a better look at it, he deduced that it wasn't an island after all, but rather a statue, sinking into the water. What the statue was depicting, he hadn't a clue. He briefly wondered how it had gotten there.

Ultimately, the statue proved a useless curiosity to him, as did the rest of the pond; no fish swam in the water, and there didn't appear to be any plants nearby, other than grass, of course. As he cast his gaze around to find his next scavenging location, his eyes found yet another relic that didn't belong amongst the wild — a long brick wall, spanning as far as the eye could see in either direction.

Link wandered away from the statue and to the wall, confused as to what it was doing all the way out there. He was far from the abbey, and there weren't any other man-made structures nearby. Was the wall meant to keep something out? Or something in? He intended to find out.

He inspected it, watching it shoot off into the distance, curving around and vanishing behind the trees. It was too tall to scale without proper footholds, but he wanted to see what lay beyond it, so he searched for an opening.

The wall, much like the rest of the structures in the area, had seen better days, making finding a break between the bricks rather easy — a short ways away, the wall had collapsed, revealing a gap. Fascinated by whatever was on the other side, Link broke into a jog, his equipment bouncing and clacking with each movement until he reached the opening.

Link had barely rounded the wall's edge and stepped through the gap when his heart dropped into his stomach — his foot had met open air. He choked on a gasp, clinging to the bricks for dear life and wrenching himself back to solid ground.

He hit the dirt, hard, on his backside, where he sat, catching his breath. Scooting forward, he carefully leaned out over the edge of a vertigo-inducing cliff, eyes widening at the plunge he had nearly taken.

That was close. His heartbeat had skyrocketed in a matter of seconds. It wasn't a wonder why the wall was there — the cliff soared so high above the ground that Link couldn't see the ground. A bank of pale, misty clouds clung to the cliffside, obscuring what lay miles below him. He thanked his lucky stars for the wall, otherwise he'd have no doubt become a shattered puddle of bone and muscle at the base of the cliff.

As he paused to recuperate, he came to the realization that he had woken up on a great, isolated plateau. He quite literally had no idea how he had gotten up there a century ago — the cliffs were too sheer to be climbed, even with gear. And considering the words of the girl, he had been injured when he climbed the plateau. How had he managed that?

When he really thought about it, he couldn't fathom how the old man had found his way onto the plateau — even if there were paths up the cliffside, they were no doubt steep and arduous. Neither a wounded man or an aged one could make the hike before they eventually tired and collapsed. Perhaps the old man was more than he seemed…?

All facts considered, then, another thought crossed Link's mind: how was he going to get down to the mainland? Climbing would be suicide. As far as he knew, there was no alternative other than flying down, somehow, but that was impossible.

But maybe there were trails down the cliffside? He needed to take a look for himself to find out.

Though he was firmly planted at the plateau's edge, Link feared a single gust of wind would push him overboard. He gingerly scooted himself across the ground until he felt he had reached a safe distance to stand — near the pond, in fact — and got to his feet on shaky legs.

Before he set off in search of a way off the plateau, he rinsed his face with cool water to calm his nerves. He then followed the extent of the wall along the cliff edge, hunting for any points where he could maybe find a way down. The only possible option was a collection of low, stone walls a significant walk south. He figured they were worth a look. After taking a quick sip of the pond water, he rose and started walking.

Link made sure to give the wall a wide berth — his fear of falling off the plateau, while irrational at the distance he maintained, was still a distinct possibility. He had no idea how stable the ground was beneath his feet; he wouldn't be any use to the girl at Hyrule Castle if he were dead.

While he strode alongside the wall, he ran his gaze over the passing terrain, spotting a familiar sight between the trees on the hilltop: a lone dark figure with a snowy beard.

Link's hair immediately stood on end, his pace slowing. Was the old man following him? Between seeing him outside the forest and then, it certainly seemed to be. Whatever the case, he was abruptly very grateful he had found a sword. Turning away, Link pressed his legs forward and left the old man even farther behind him.

The distant buildings appeared further away than they actually were, with Link arriving in no time at all. At first glance, he realized that they were an annex to the abbey by the church, their architecture similar. However, they were arguably in the worst condition he had seen on the plateau so far, the moss and vines clinging to their pale and disintegrating walls barely holding them together. Sun and time hadn't been kind to the easternmost abbey.

Strangely, Link couldn't seem to find a clear way in. The archways he found in his perimeter search of the area were blocked with rubble and fallen trees — from the inside. He scratched his head, wondering if the abbey's previous occupants were trying to keep something out. Wildlife, maybe? He wasn't sure.

As he checked the final archway, he found it obstructed as well. Interestingly enough, the blockage here was guarded by another sunken, decayed statue like the one he had found in the pond. They were identical in their time-battered states, but this particular statue protruded from the ground at a shallower depth, allowing him to see more of it than just its top.

What a bizarre statue… he thought, looking it over.

Now that he could take in more of it, he realized just how gigantic it was compared to him. It didn't seem to have any rhyme or reason in its design — it was divided into three distinct sections, its uppermost portion resembling an enormous ceramic pot. The statue's, for lack of a better word, body, curved downward in a bell shape, its ornate rim and stunning patterns on its surface mossy and half-buried in the grass.

Again, he wondered if it was there for decoration. Either way, it was no more than an antique to him. He cracked his knuckles and prepared to climb over the rubble it guarded and into the abbey.

It was then that he heard a noise that killed his momentum entirely — it rang like a ghostly gong in the wind, a nauseous fear blooming in his gut the moment it hit his ears. His heart stuttered in his chest; he felt as if he had heard that sound before, but he knew he never had.

The gritty grinding of stone followed the haunting chime, slowly pulling Link's attention toward the statue. His body seized up in shock as he watched the statue somehow begin to move, its sections rotating independently of each other, separating slightly to reveal the jittery mechanisms inside it.

All at once, a light breathed to life inside it, shining through its embellishments and igniting it with an infamous magenta glow. That light culminated in a single, unblinking eye set in the center of its head. It scanned its surroundings for a brief moment before honing its gaze directly on Link.

He froze under its eye, lungs crippled and heart hammering. He had felt this caliber of fear, before, as he cowered in the shadow of Calamity Ganon. He knew without a doubt that the statue's eye trained on him, as well as the eyes of the beast, were one and the same. The arresting power in those eyes locked his body without his control. All he could do was await an attack he couldn't escape.

Only, the attack never came. At least not to Link. But why hadn't it attacked him? It had a perfect opportunity to do so. But he didn't have time to think on it. No, after staring at him for several eternal moments, the statue suddenly whirled its head and took aim at another person behind him. A thin red beam of light sparked out of its pupil, zeroing in on its target.

Link somehow managed to break free of his paralysis, jerking his head over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of whoever the statue was targeting. He found none other than the old man far behind him, utterly immobilized by the statue's reticle glaring between his eyes. He stood slack-jawed, his gaze glazed over with mortal peril, gripping his walking stick with white knuckles.

His shock at seeing the old man snapped Link out of his stupor. He shouted, tossing his hands up in a sweeping gesture, "Hey! Get out of here! You need to run!"

No matter his shouts, the old man didn't hear; he remained rooted in his place, too immobilized by threat of the statue to move.

Breaking into a sweat, Link looked between them rapidly, his mind racing for options. If he didn't do something, the old man was as good as dead. But what could he do? It appeared the statue was readying a laser of some sort, and it was bursting to fire, crackling light gathering in its eye.

Link wouldn't have enough time to tackle the old man out of the way. In a freak streak of instinct from deep inside him, he ripped his shield from his back and hugged it against his chest, diving into the line of fire just as the statue released its laser.

He glued his eyes shut against a blinding onslaught of light, bracing himself for the worst. If this didn't work, he prayed his shield would absorb the blast. While midair, a tremendous force collided with his shield, punching it into his sternum and forcing the wind out of him. Amidst a blast of heat, he was shoved backward, smashing into the ground before rolling several times until he skidded to a stop.

When his head finally stopped spinning, he peeled his eyes open and sat up in spite of the pain in his ribs, his eyes immediately on the statue. To his amazement, his spur-of-the-moment idea worked — the beam had glanced off of his rusty shield and right back into the statue's eye. The statue whirred and sparked, its magenta light flashing sporadically until it exploded in a stunning shower of fire and light, a mighty boom shaking the ground.

Link huddled beneath his shield as ashes rained upon him, astounded at his quick thinking. Somehow, it just felt natural. With the danger gone, he scrambled to his feet, turned, and locked eyes with the old man.

Link couldn't immediately name exactly what, but something in the old man's countenance had changed — he looked drained standing there, speechless, clutching his walking stick close to his chest. His eyes sifted through Link's face, and he winced against several scowls threatening to take over his brow. All the same, he couldn't look away from the young man that had rushed to save him so selflessly.

It was quiet for a time until Link asked, "Are you all right?"

The old man jolted back as if Link had shouted at him, causing Link to react similarly. Link was expecting to be reprimanded, but instead, the old man's lips pursed. He gave a mute nod.

They watched each other for a moment or two, Link growing uncomfortable in the silence. In reality, the old man was struggling for words, his mind abuzz with doubt and fear and faith. He wasn't sure how to proceed with his thoughts, ultimately, his hesitation bolstering Link's desire to leave as soon as he could.

For Link, that simple nod was all the thanks he needed — and all that he was going to get. He bowed his head, clenched his fists, and bade the old man goodbye.

"I'm glad you're safe," he murmured, before turning on his heel and beginning to walk away.

He hadn't made it two steps before a weary voice called out to him.

"Link..." the old man said.

Link stopped mid-stride, casting his head over his shoulder, astonished that the old man had actually spoken to him by name. Words escaped him when he caught a glimpse of how sorrowful the old man now appeared. His dark eyes were clouded and gloomy, his shoulders slumped, a deepset frown highlighting the wrinkles in his face. He suddenly appeared to be well over one hundred years old.

The old man continued, his voice low, "I… I have been unfair to you. I apologize for my rash behavior, and if you would allow me to do so, I would like to make it up to you."

Link gaped at the man's offering; he was actually showing him kindness. He could hardly believe it.

He listened in awe as the old man proposed, "I would like to invite you to my cabin nearby for a meal. Accompany me there, and I will answer any questions you have."

Link blinked at the prospect of that, his interest piqued.

"Is that something that would interest you?" the old man wondered.

Link replied with a nod. "Yes. Please."

It was then that a weak smile curved the corners of the man's lips, a faint light finding his eyes.

"Very well, then. Follow me."

Hoo boy, what a chapter! It was a joy to write - the Guardian scene especially. I remember my first visit to the abbey... Link handled it a lot better than I did. :)

Anyway, thanks again for reading my work. Let me know what you think! Until then, I'll see you in the next chapter!