In the middle of the night, I stirred from sleep, a sense of unease settling in as I became aware of movement nearby. The air was filled with the sound of heavy breathing, shrouding the surroundings in an eerie stillness. As my eyelids fluttered open, a fleeting shadow seemed to vanish from the periphery of my vision. It mirrored the experience of that second night when I had first encountered Dark, memories flooding back and leaving me both puzzled and stunned.

This time, I couldn't simply dismiss it as my imagination, not when it had happened for the second time. Despite this certainty, I attempted to convince my groggy mind that perhaps it was the remnants of a dream, lingering as I had just awoken. As I sat up, my focus was drawn back to the movement beside me, my gaze falling upon Dark. His form was contorted in apparent distress and his breathing rapid. It was a déjà vu that sent a chill down my spine, for I had seen Dark assume this very position before.

Without hesitation, I reached out to him, gently shaking him in an attempt to rouse him from whatever seemed to grip his slumber. His arm was damp, likely from sweat, and the muscles under my touch were tense. With a firmer nudge, I attempted to wake him further, and then called out to him. "Dark, wake up," I urged.

In an instant, his eyes opened, and the moonlight, filtering through the cracks of the cabin, revealed the familiar crimson hue that I had come to associate with him. I watched in awe as his eye color immediately shifted back to the purplish shade I had last seen. His hands then clutched his chest in pain, his face and body contorting as he emitted a pained groan, rolling to his side. He remained in this tormented position for a while, his rapid breaths gradually beginning to steady. It struck me that he must have been sleeping throughout this ordeal, prompting me to wonder what could possibly haunt his dreams so vividly. My initial thought was night terrors, but how could mere imagination alter the color of his eyes? As his composure gradually returned, I layed back, absorbing the weight of what had just happened.

Dark's breathing had steadied, and his previously tense body seemed to have relaxed into a more peaceful slumber. Balancing concern with curiosity, I observed him for a moment longer. Come to think of it, aside from the nights when I had first taken him in, I had never witnessed him fully at rest. The silence now greeting me, I felt fatigue kicking in, allowing myself to go back to sleep.

As the darkness of the night gave way to the gentle colors of dawn, the morning greeted me with the gentle warmth of the rising sun spilling into the cabin. My surroundings came into focus, revealing that I was alone in the room. Seizing the opportunity, I decided to freshen up, my body stretching as I awakened from a restless slumber. The events of the night weighed on my mind, urging me to confront them. With a determined sigh, I stepped out of the cabin and found Dark near a crackling fire, tending to its flames.

A clutch of bird eggs rested nearby, a hint of a forthcoming meal. As I approached, the fallen branches crunched beneath my feet, alerting Dark to my presence. His gaze briefly met mine before returning to the flames.

"Hello", he said as he tossed another piece of wood in the fire. "Goodmorning", I replied. Sitting across from him, I settled down by the fire, watching as its flames danced, emanating a gentle warmth. A few minutes passed before I urged myself to break the silence.

"I have to say", I started, hesitating whether I should even bring up the topic. My eyes fixed on Dark as he continued his tasks, cracking an egg onto a small metal slab. Taking a deep breath, I resumed. "Last night, I awoke and found you in distress, as if caught in a dream or perhaps a nightmare," I said, my voice gentle yet direct. "The intensity was such that it manifested in your physical form. Is there something troubling you?"

Dark's response was a blank stare. He took a second before he looked away. "I don't know what you're referring to," he countered.

His response left me uncertain, torn between believing his words and trusting the evidence of my own eyes. Was he genuinely unaware of the turmoil that gripped him during his sleep, or was he deliberately avoiding the topic? His defensive tone muddied the waters, casting a veil over the truth that eluded us.

"I'm not trying to intrude on your privacy or cause any discomfort," I started, choosing my words with care. "But I've witnessed this phenomenon twice now. You were shaking in pain; it looked like something was torturing you."

In response, Dark's gaze flickered, a fleeting display of vulnerability that vanished almost as soon as it appeared. Clearly, he was wrestling with something he wasn't ready to share. It was as if he was a lone wolf, resolute in bearing his burdens alone, despite the toll it took on him.

A heavy silence settled between us before he broke it with a solemn declaration, his expression unreadable, his eyes emotionless. "It doesn't matter. In a few hours, I'll have retrieved my sword, and you won't ever see me again. It would be better if you kept your distance."

His words reverberated, a clear indication of the fortress he had built around himself. Exhaling quietly, I battled a mixture of frustration and concern, and while I understood his instinct to shield himself, it also left me feeling somewhat powerless.

Despite my attempts to stay composed, his words carried a weight that I couldn't ignore. I refused to let it show, though, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his declaration had affected me.

"Understood," I responded evenly, my tone masking the sting I felt. I busied myself by picking up a nearby stick and idly poking at the fire, the crackling flames reflecting the turmoil within me.

Dark's gaze seemed to linger on me for a moment longer before he returned his attention to his cooking. The air around us held an unspoken tension, a rift that had suddenly formed between us. I was left grappling with a mixture of emotions—frustration at his reluctance to open up, disappointment in the abrupt shift in our dynamic, and a gnawing desire to understand the enigma that was Dark.

After a while, Dark finished his task and leaned over, positioning the slab with the remaining eggs in front of me. In silence, we consumed our food, the weight of our earlier conversation still lingering, rendering the air between us somewhat awkward. Words were unnecessary; we both comprehended what needed to be done.

Once we had finished our meal, we ventured out of the forest, gradually becoming aware that we stood in Central Hyrule, gazing at the formidable gates of the Great Plateau. The path we had taken the day before had ultimately guided us to this point, leading us toward the sanctuary. Given the Great Plateau's harsh landscape, characterized by rocky ruins and uneven terrain, Dark decided to allow the horse to roam freely.

Passing through the towering stone gates, I unconsciously led the way without a word spoken. Faded memories of my youth resurfaced as we moved forward. Once, this place had been adorned with beautiful architecture, but now only remnants remained, a testament to the passage of war.

I eventually became aware of a temple that decorated the landscape, an ominous place in the middle of shattered structures and fragments of forgotten memories scattered about. As we arrived, we stepped in the temple through its destroyed wall, a wave of nostalgia hitting me.

I was just a child when the world turned dark and unforgiving. The war had cast its deadly torrent over our kingdom, and my mother and I were trapped in here. Despite the chaos that raged around us, my mother remained my pillar of strength, a source of unwavering love and courage.

The image of her drew itself so vividly in my mind; it would be the last time I saw her. My mother sat me down on her lap, her arms wrapped protectively around me. Her voice, soft and soothing, painted pictures of a brighter world beyond the walls that confined us. She told me stories of hope and resilience, of a hero who rose from the darkest of times to bring faith into the world and a princess that fought endlessly to protect the nation.

As she spoke, her fingers brushed gently through my hair, like a comforting lullaby. Her eyes held a fierce determination, even as they glistened with unshed tears. She wanted me to remember that even in times of despair, love and courage could thrive.

But that evening, as the air outside filled with the distant rumble of explosions, I saw something in my mother's eyes that I had never seen before. It was a mixture of love, sadness, and a kind of farewell that words couldn't convey.

She leaned down, pressing her lips to my forehead, and whispered, "My darling, never forget the courage that resides within you. No matter what happens, you are never alone. You carry our love, our strength, and our hope."

Those were the last words she spoke to me. That night, the war showed no mercy. My mother had ordered me to hide behind the statue, waiting for the arrival of my father, for she would leave to defend this place of power, as she said. My mother's love and courage, the very essence of her being, became a shield that protected me until the very end…

Realizing I had been staring at the statue without saying a word for a moment now, I sighed and diverted my attention away. I looked at Dark and finally spoke. "This is the sanctuary, the Temple of Time. Pray to the Goddess Statue and you will see yourself rewarded with a message, a direction to the success of your quest", I spoke.

Dark approached the statue cautiously, and as he closed his eyes and began his prayer, the statue suddenly radiated with a soft, divine light, receptive to Dark's desires.

I had witnessed this occurrence once before. That same day in my memory, concealed behind the statue, I had fervently prayed and shed tears, imploring an end to the war that had torn our land apart. My pleas were answered, though it would take several long months. It was during my time in the care of my father's uncle that news of Ganondorf's defeat had finally reached Hyrule. But it came with a heavy price, for I also learned that my mother had perished in the war, and my father remained missing, his fate uncertain.

I was confronted with a world forever changed, my parents' presence replaced by a void that could never be filled. But in the depths of my grief, I held onto my mother's words, her love, and her unwavering courage. They became my guiding light, a legacy that urged me to carry on, to find hope amid the chaos, and to honor the sacrifices she had made for me.