Time seemed to stretch into an agonizing eternity, the seconds weighed down by the impending doom. Then, abruptly, his hand released its vice-like hold, the oppressive force dissipating like a vanquished phantom. I cautiously opened my eyes, and to my astonishment, I was met not with the suffocating depths, but with the sprawling expanse of The Great Plateau, shrouded in night's embrace.
Stumbling backwards in stunned disbelief, I lost my footing on a jagged rock, crashing to the ground. My hand quickly reached for my neck, recalling the agony I had felt just moments ago. The sight of Dark possessed by Ganondorf's powers, his demeanor broken and pained, his grip on my throat… It had all been absolutely torturous, and the next second, everything was different, as though nothing had ever happened.
I stammered, still grappling with the surreal shift in reality. "Wha- How...?''
Drawing in a steadying breath, I took a moment to survey our surroundings, the realization settling in. My gaze immediately sought out to Dark, his figure partially visible, his form bearing the injuries of the struggle. He stood there, head down looking at his illuminated arm, his hair obscuring his face, a silent sentinel of enigma. As the gloom covering him seemed to dissipate, the dusky hue of his skin receded, and his breathing gradually steadied. Given his current condition, it was difficult to fathom that just a minute prior, he had gripped my neck with such intensity, his scorching hand a glimpse to the fire within him. Impulsively, I allowed my overwhelming emotions to take control, my voice strained and heavy with a blend of disbelief and betrayal.
"You speak of trust, of alliance. Yet, you deceived me. Was it your plan all along, to trap me?" The words surged from my lips, carrying the weight of my pain, each one a blade cutting through the air.
Amidst the maelstrom of emotions, one question loomed larger than all the rest: Why was Ganondorf seeking me? He had known my mother – the first mention of her since the war.
"You lied to me... Dark? Link? What is it? How long did you intend to manipulate me?" My gaze bore into him, demanding answers. He finally glanced at me, his face devoid of any flicker of emotion, his eyes holding a lifeless emptiness. The gash on his face was gruesome and crimson stained his features, a reminder of the battle he had endured.
Without a word, he turned, the strain evident in every step he took. He reached a crumbling wall, leaning on it heavily. Despite my anger, a surge of empathy welled up within me. This was a moment of reckoning for both of us.
"Don't worry, we will part ways soon," he murmured, his voice heavy with resignation. He brought his hand to his mouth and blew a sharp whistle. In the distance, among the shattered structures, our black horse from earlier galloped towards us, a beacon of familiarity in this sea of turmoil.
"Oh, it's so convenient for you to distance yourself rather than confront your own deceit. How did we even end up here?'' A few moments passed, the silence hovering over us.
"Answer me!" I pleaded, my voice tinged with desperation.
"I can't think properly at the moment," he said, exhaustion apparent. The horse drew near, and slowly, he moved toward the horse, bracing himself against its sturdy form. There was a long pause before he turned slightly and glanced at me. It felt like an unspoken invitation, one I met with defiance.
"I'm not going anywhere with you,'' I said, crossing my arms.
He turned back to the horse, exhaling deeply. "I'll give you the answers you seek. Away from here."
I watched him muster every ounce of strength to pull himself and with a strained effort, he mounted the horse, his movements slow and deliberate. It was clear that he was pushing himself beyond his limits.
Surveying my surroundings, I wrestled with the decision to trust him once more or venture forth alone. Yet, the thought of navigating the Great Plateau in the dead of night, all by myself, sent shivers down my spine. Reluctantly, I yielded, assuring myself that I'd strike out on my own as soon as I reached a more secure location. Cautiously, I climbed onto the horse's back with the help of the broken wall all the while Dark extended his arm, grasping onto mine to give me some support.
The journey continued in quietude, the rhythmic percussion of the horse's hooves a constant companion to our contemplative musings. Dark's weary figure leaned heavily on the horse, finding solace in its steady gait. At times, I feared he might succumb to exhaustion, his head drooping limply as if he'd slipped into unconsciousness. Meanwhile, the world around us blurred into a tapestry of trees and distant hills, a landscape painted in shades of night.
Finally, we arrived at a rustic stable, its wooden beams weathered by time. Dark dismounted with evident effort, cradling his injured arm, and moved towards the stable, each step a testament to his resilience. Leaning heavily on the welcome desk, he exchanged a few words with the worker, who glanced at me with a mixture of curiosity and wariness before nodding.
I watched as Dark disappeared into the stable, his silhouette blending with the shadows within. The weariness in his movements spoke volumes, a stark reminder of the toll the events had taken on him. As he crashed onto one of the beds, the exhaustion seemed to wash over him like a tidal wave. His form, once tense with determination, now sagged under the weight of his injuries and the burdens he bore.
A kind-hearted lady approached, a gentle smile gracing her features. Extending her hand, she offered assistance for my dismount, her demeanor radiating warmth and hospitality. With a reassuring gesture, she indicated that she would see to the care of the horse, allowing me some well-deserved rest. She mentioned that arrangements had been made for a bed, a small act of generosity that touched my weary heart.
As she led the horse towards the barn, I made my way into the stable, lingering by the entrance, my gaze fixed on Dark. The events of the night had unraveled so much, exposing layers of deception and revealing a truth I could scarcely comprehend.
With a heavy sigh, I approached him, my footsteps reverberating on the wooden floor. He didn't move, lost in a fitful slumber born of exhaustion and pain.
Taking a seat on a nearby bed, I let out a frustrated sigh, my impatience mounting as I yearned for the answers I rightfully deserved. Dark's condition was undoubtedly dire, but after the events that had transpired, I knew I couldn't afford to let my empathy weaken my resolve. With a determined breath, I closed the blinds of his bed, allowing him a semblance of privacy where he could rest undisturbed, away from the prying eyes and unspoken questions of travelers in the room.
In the stillness of the stable, I found a moment of respite, a chance to collect my thoughts amidst the echoes of the night's revelations. While I contemplated the last events, I felt drowsiness take over me, allowing myself to give into a slumber.
I awoke in the late morning, after much needed sleep. As I got out of bed, intrigued to see if Dark was still there, I slightly moved the binds of his bed, finding him in a deep slumber. His burnt arm was carefully wrapped in bandages and the gash on his face bound with nasty stitching, a sign of the care he had received during the night.
I made the decision to leave the stable in search of sustenance and a chance to refresh myself. As the day unfolded, I learned that we were stationed at Riverside Stable, nestled beside the tranquil Hylia river. Seizing the opportunity, I indulged in a revitalizing bath before foraging for nearby fruits and vegetables.
Returning to the stable, I settled by the warmth of the crackling fire, skillfully preparing a hearty meal. I had expected him to be awake by now but Dark had remained still throughout the day, clearly requiring the relief of undisturbed rest.
With the settling of the evening, I extended my gratitude to the stable worker, arranging for another night's stay. They shared insights about Dark, their words carrying a sense of astonishment at my association with him. In their eyes, he was a solitary figure, a quiet loner whose presence commanded a respectful distance. He was someone known to swiftly dispatch anyone who dared to cross his path.
Yet, their description also painted a different facet of him. A figure of unwavering strength, he was a familiar presence at their establishment, always settling his accounts with a sense of responsibility. They regaled me with tales of his numerous battles against lurking monsters, weaving a narrative of a silent hero who defended these lands with a vigilance that went unnoticed by many. In return, in times of injury, they granted him the necessary time to mend his wounds, a testament to the unspoken respect he commanded.
In the quiet of the night, I pondered the duality of the man. He probably had underlying motives for 'defending these lands', I thought to myself.
As night unfurled its tapestry, I settled into my bed. Despite having the means to depart this place, my thoughts invariably returned to the unresolved questions that lingered from our recent trials. With high expectations for the next day, I fell fast asleep, the crickets being the only sounds that could be heard.
The early morning light filtered through the wooden slats of the stable, casting gentle patterns on the floor. The distant sounds of travelers' chatter echoed through the stable, a reminder that the world outside was moving on.
As I stirred from sleep laying on my side, my gaze fell upon him. He laid on his back, one hand supporting his head, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. A change of clothes and his damp hair hinted at a fresh start, a symbolic gesture reflecting the transformation that had taken place.
Sensing my awakening, his voice came low and deliberate, as though he had chosen his words with great care. "I suppose it would be best to confront the truth right away, so you can be on your way."
For a moment, I scrutinized him, my expression a mix of irritation and contemplation. It was exasperating how he always assumed to know what was best. Yet, deep down, I couldn't deny that he had a point. The journey with him had been nothing short of a whirlwind, but within the whirlwind, I had unearthed truths about myself, about my past. It was a newfound sense of purpose that I hadn't even known I'd been searching for.
The weight of his words settled over us, suffusing the stable with a profound stillness. His voice, measured and tinged with a lifetime of regret, wove a tale of darkness and manipulation.
''For as long as I can remember, I've lived in the depths and answered to him." His voice held a somber note, one that resonated with the gravity of his revelation. He didn't need to utter the name – I knew who he was referring to.
"It was what I considered to be my home. I trained daily and he would regularly send me on missions, eventually becoming his most loyal servant. Betrayal, pain and torture became routine, forging me, using these experiences as fuel to justify my actions." The words hung heavy in the air, painting a vivid picture of the horrors he had endured. Each sentence seemed to etch deeper into the tapestry of his past, revealing the scars that marked his soul. I heard him sigh deeply, an audible testament to the struggle within the painful recollections.
"I knew it was wrong, I knew deep down that none of it truly resonated with me, but I didn't feel any remorse." His admission was raw, a testament to the internal struggle he had faced in those depths. I could sense his disapproval of himself.
"I could not connect with my younger self anymore. I couldn't recognize the boy that I once was. Living in the constant darkness and cruelty, I became what I was surrounded by." The transformation he described was both tragic and harrowing, a testament to the power of environment to shape a soul.
"And so, relating to my new self, I went by the name of Dark for those who didn't know me. That was until I found out I was a simple puppet to his ambitions. After I found out he used me. After I found out he killed my father."
The weight of his revelation pressed down on us, a palpable force that seemed to echo through the very foundations of the stable. The truth was a brutal thing, laying bare the depths of Link's suffering and the cruel machinations that had shaped his existence.
"Apparently my father was the head of the royal guards of the kingdom. So… I guess I prefer the name Link, which was given to me by a respectable man." Link's voice held a quiet reverence, a tribute to a man he had only recently discovered was his true father.
The weight of his revelation settled over us, mingling with the strands of sunlight filtering through the stable's slats. The name 'Link' now bore a deeper significance, intertwining with a legacy that stretched back through generations. A few moments passed in contemplative silence. It was a lot to process, this new facet of the person beside me. When I finally spoke, my voice carried a note of empathy.
"I like Link better anyways." The words slipped out, a genuine sentiment that had taken root in my heart.
His gaze drifted from the ceiling, and for a brief moment, I thought I glimpsed a softening in his expression. It was a subtle shift, a flicker of something that felt like appreciation. Then, his eyes met mine, a connection that held a weight of its own. They lingered for a heartbeat, and then descended lower, settling on what seemed like my lips. The air seemed to hum with a charged tension, a palpable awareness that hung between us.
A voice from outside shattered the silence between us, Link's gaze snapping away, his expression shuttering. It was the stable worker, calling out a greeting to a passing traveler.
He cleared his throat, a hint of awkwardness lingering in the atmosphere. "Perhaps we should prepare some breakfast and save the rest of our conversation for later," he suggested. I straightened up, offering a nod in agreement and observed as he rose from his bed, making his way towards the stable's entrance.
In that moment, as the sun's rays began to filter through the slats of the stable, I felt a profound sense of empathy wash over me. Link's journey had been one of survival, of navigating treacherous waters in search of a glimmer of light. This was a man who had faced the darkest corners of his own soul and emerged, scarred but undeniably resilient.