POV Link
My heart is pounding uncontrollably in my chest. I feel the anxiety gripping my throat and paralyzing me when I see Zelda sitting, with her back to me, on a rock at the top of the hill. My arms ache with longing, propelling me to run toward her.
She doesn't hear my approach. I stop a step away from her, unsure how to proceed. I take a deep breath, gathering courage, and call her name. But when I open my mouth, no words come out. I feel the temperature drop suddenly, the cold seeping into my bones. I stretch out my arm and touch her shoulder, trying to get her attention, and realize her skin is freezing.
The air seems to become thinner with each passing second, as if something is sucking all the oxygen from the atmosphere. My breathing becomes shorter, labored, painful. The lack of air starts to panic me, and then Zelda slowly stands up. I watch, unable to move, as she walks away. When she's just a few steps from the edge of the cliff, she turns to me, her eyes cold and lifeless. Her face, expressionless.
"You caused this," she declares, and without hesitation, she lets her body fall backward into the void.
I try to lunge toward her to do something, but my feet are glued to the ground. In the next second, the sky turns red, a horde of Ganon's demons surrounds me, and the ground collapses beneath my feet.
I wake up with a start, terror still coursing through my body. The windows of the room are wide open, and the sun beats down hard on my bare torso. It must be past noon. The strong smell of sea salt hits me, bringing me back to reality. I hear the waves breaking on the beach, and their slow, steady rhythm helps me control my breathing. Only the anxiety, my eternal companion in recent years, doesn't abandon me completely.
This morning's nightmare is not new. Since I left Hyrule, I've had it multiple times a week. Over time its frequency has decreased — though it has never disappeared. The words of the Deku Tree, saying we would have "just a few more years of peace," echo in my brain constantly. Countless times I've wondered if I should just return. But I was also told to "seek to understand the past."
The problem is, I have no idea how to do that.
It's been just over five years since I left, and I've made zero percent progress. I've discovered nothing about the so-called "Past" — I don't even know whose or what history I'm supposed to find. A few months after heading into the unknown with Kass, he decided to return to Hyrule. "Almost half a year and we found nothing," he said. "I believe we won't find any information, Link. I suggest we go back, and let the scientists there decide what to do next."
But I refused and said I would continue searching; which was, partly, true. I didn't specifically focus on ancient technologies, but on anything that could teach me more about the Past. In the first months, I crossed many lands. Initially, I spoke with all the travelers I encountered. I listened to their stories, learned about the place I was in, where they came from, where they were going. I joined expedition caravans to explore new destinations.
It was on one of these adventures, about a year after parting with Kass, that I ended up on Koholint Island. Some enthusiastic young people I met told me the island was named after a popular legend in the region where I was that week. They said the story was about an island created from the dream of a supernatural creature, and that both it and its inhabitants were made of pure imagination. This fable was born long ago, so they couldn't tell me its origin. The only thing they knew was that, one day, in a distant past, a young shipwrecked boy dressed in green appeared on the coast talking about magical flying fish, musical instruments, dreams and nightmares, and the island that disappeared as magically as it had appeared.
For centuries, this was passed down orally, becoming folklore. I'm sure the story became more fantastical each year as it was retold by new people.
However... for some reason, it resonated with me. So, when the group invited me to join the expedition to the island named after this tale, I didn't think twice before accepting.
And when my feet touched the sand of Torombo Beach — as they told me the place was called — a strange numbness took over me. Everything there was new, yet strangely familiar. The island pulsed with an intense, dense, slow energy that brought unease but at the same time invited you to stay a little longer.
A few weeks later, the group I arrived with left. "Just one more month," I thought. That month turned into two, which turned into six, and before I knew it, several years had passed.
With a heavy heart, I realize today is Zelda's birthday. That's probably why I had the nightmare again this morning. I sit at the table in the small chalet where I live and pull my journal from the bag. This was a habit I started after waking from the coma. I used to make brief notes on the Sheikah Slate, but when the ancient technologies stopped working, I lost all those entries.
So I decided to return to pen and paper. This habit was the only thing that kept me aware of how much time had passed since the beginning of this adventure — if I can call it that — because, within a few weeks, days and places began to blur together in my memory.
Koholint Island
September 22, year 5, day 1947
Early afternoon
This morning, I had the nightmare again. It had been a few months since the last time. It was exactly the same as the previous ones.
I went to bed late last night, as has been happening more and more frequently. Since I arrived on the island, I've felt much sleepier than usual. So waking up after noon quickly became a habit.
Today is Zelda's birthday.
Some days are worse than others. Today, I feel like the weight of longing could crush me.
Does she miss me too?
I hope not. I hope she's found happiness.
I close the journal, having nothing more to add. Mechanically, I dress and head toward the beach. To sustain myself on the island, I now work as a kitchen helper at one of the beachfront kiosks. Initially, I sought employment as a bodyguard, but quickly realized it wouldn't work: it was too peaceful here, no crimes or danger.
So, one night, while cooking for myself, as usual, over an improvised campfire on the sand, with some ingredients I found in the forest, the owner of one of the kiosks noticed. He asked to taste it, was surprised — and so was I, as I saw nothing special in half a dozen toasted mushrooms — and offered me a job.
I found the idea amusing, completely different from everything I've done so far. And, surprisingly, I found myself doing well in the role. I've always enjoyed cooking for myself, and saw little difference in doing the same for many people. The chef seemed to like my performance, and the small team was united and kind.
"Hi, Link!" Marin, one of the waitresses, greets me.
The kiosk would open in a few hours, so she was sitting on a fallen tree trunk on the ground, watching the sea.
"What a terrible face, did you sleep badly last night?"
"Hi, Marin, good afternoon," I greet back as I sit on the trunk too.
"Did you dream about Zelda again?"
Marin is the closest thing I have to a friend here on the island. Everyone is kind, but I couldn't seem to connect with other people. A few weeks after I started working at the kiosk, when we were alone cleaning it after closing in the early morning, she tried to kiss me. I was surprised and took a few seconds to react, as I didn't expect it — I never knew how to read flirting signs. Confused, I tried to reciprocate, but it felt too strange, wrong. It wasn't Zelda. And something else, which I couldn't decipher, bothered me. After a few moments, I gently pushed her away.
"Sorry," I said simply.
But her self-confidence was so great that my rejection didn't faze her for even a moment.
"Hmm, I sense a story there. What's her name?" she asked, nosy, while resuming cleaning as if nothing had happened.
And, strangely, I felt comfortable enough to tell her everything that had happened. All the years before the Calamity, the fall of the kingdom, my amnesia, the defeat of Ganon, my escape from Hyrule. And, of course, Zelda. I talked about our complicated relationship, my confused feelings, the breakup, and how she simply refused to leave my heart even after so many years.
That day, our friendship was cemented. After listening to me talk for hours on end, she also shared her whole story as if she had known me for years. Eventually, I discovered what bothered me: Marin reminded me of my sister, who died as a child in the Calamity along with my father. Even her appearance reminded me a bit of her. I didn't realize it initially because I had lost all memories of them during my amnesia and only regained them after a few months here in Koholint.
"Interesting. It had been a while since the last time, right?"
"Yes… a few months. Today is her birthday… and the Calamity's too. I wonder how she's doing," I admit.
"Why don't you go back? What does that old tree know anyway? It must be senile by now, after so many years," she says, joking.
I laugh, without much enthusiasm.
"I can't, you know that. Not yet."
"But you don't even know what you're looking for! Besides, in recent years, I haven't seen you do anything about it once," she teases, without restraint.
Marin is like that, direct. She sees no point in beating around the bush, always getting straight to the point. In that sense, she's my direct opposite — at least, compared to when I arrived on the island. In recent years, I've tried to develop my assertiveness by observing how she communicates.
"I know that too. I don't know, Marin, something about this island seems to make me lethargic. Maybe I should leave… But, I don't know, I feel like there's still something I need to discover here. I just have no idea what."
"That makes it easy," she jokes, sarcastically.
We sit in silence for a few moments, watching the waves break on the shore.
"Once you told me I reminded you of your sister," she starts. "I'm going to use that as an excuse to meddle and give you unsolicited advice."
I roll my eyes, annoyed.
"Yeah, that sounds just like her."
"Great," she celebrates, satisfied. "Well... the other day I was at the island library, looking for something I hadn't read yet. While rummaging through the shelves, I found a different book, looking very old. Like, really old."
My curiosity is piqued.
"And what was in it?"
"Well, it was in a different alphabet. So I didn't understand anything."
"That makes it easy," I repeat her sarcasm.
Seeing that I'm distracted, she gives me a push, causing me to fall into the sand.
"Are you going to let me finish talking?" she complains.
"Sorry. Go ahead, if you may," I grumble, in an exaggeratedly formal tone. I stay seated where I fell and lean back against the trunk, so I can't see her anymore — just listen as she continues.
"Well. I couldn't understand almost anything in it. But there was an illustration of a building I recognized from here on the island. And someone had scribbled 'Dream Shrine' underneath."
I sigh, tired. More shrines? The 120 I had to visit in Hyrule to prepare to fight Ganon weren't enough for a lifetime?
But, on the other hand... I really did get much stronger by exploring them and completing their challenges. Much more than I ever did during my many years of military training.
Maybe it's worth a try.
"What do you think is there?" I ask.
"A sedative? Yoga classes? Chamomile tea?" she ponders, joking. "I have no idea, but at least it's something different. It seems to be nearby, north of the village. If I recognized it well, it's that ruined house near the little shop. You know, the one blocked by rocks?"
I nod in agreement. I've passed by that building many times, and something about it always invited me in. But it was blocked, and it seemed like just more ruins — something I've seen more than enough of in the last decade. And the laziness that took over me in this place was greater than my curiosity, anyway.
"And how am I supposed to get in there?" I question. Maybe the book gave some clue.
"That sounds like a 'you problem'," she replies, cheeky.
However, somehow, it doesn't sound rude — just like a fraternal tease.
"Do I have to give you all the answers now?"
And with that, she ends the subject. Marin gets up and starts walking towards the kiosk, while humming a melody about a girl who turned into a seagull to sing in unknown lands.