Howdy, it's been a while. Sorry, the Zelda stories take a long time for me to write for more than one reason, but Ido love to write them. I've got something big coming over on AO3 (Michael_Johnson) in the next few weeks.
As always, please read and tell me how to improve. This has been stewing for practically three months or so before I got a burst of inspiration last night. Hope y'all enjoy! Check out some of my other stuff if you can or want to. I've told the other fandom I write for that I'm going to try and upload at least once a week or twice bi-weekly. I'm not going to try and say that here... Sorry.
The thick canopy barred the sunlight from entering, leaving only shadow upon the forest floor. Trees creaked and groaned, and the bug's constant drone, and the violent rush of the stream created the cacophony native to that area of the woods. There was no 'song of the forest,' only noise. Noise that blocked the senses and drowned thought, it was so loud.
But Link had grown used to it all. Nearly seven years in the damned forest and he had heard all of it. He'd learned to tune out all that was irrelevant, anything that wasn't a threat. He'd be mad if he hadn't, constant noise and complete silence end the same. But he had, and that was what mattered.
His lips were parched and his throat stung a little with every breath of air, but he could not drink anymore than he had. He'd already had more than his current rations permitted, and the stream was still a day away. 'If I do not use them.' He thought bitterly, feeling the trinkets he carried with him attempt to burn a hole in his tote and back. He was acutely aware of one in particular, that seemed to be leeching off his darker aspects the more time waned. But his patron was Courage and Will Herself, he would not falter to a piece of wood and leather.
But he wanted to. If he were a weaker man, he'd have succumbed several days ago- perhaps more. Perhaps he would have lost control after the very first time he touched it, or after it first sealed around his face. But he would have lost. He could not permit that.
"Perhaps a good rest will clear my head…" He said to no one in particular. How could he when he was the only thing this deep beside bugs and monsters. "I'll make the river by tomorrow morning if I do." And so he did, throwing up a small tent to keep the elements off and drifting quickly into a light sleep.
The empty vastness, a void which had no horizon, was where he stood. A soft clicking echoed in his ears, and then a large bell, deafening and horrid. A sinister laugh and footsteps from a purple man simply demanded his attention, until finally horrid, red eyes and a disfigured nose crashed into a tower, fire consuming the blackness and him as he felt the heat lick and bit his skin, burning away anything that could even resemble the small boy he had been and leaving only a monster in white and blue, sword ready.
'Perhaps, this is my destiny. Perhaps this is my end..' he thought as the monster drew closer, raising its sword above its head and staring blankly at him with dead eyes. But just as the slash started, gilded light shone behind him, blinding the monster and forcing it back. The light grew, more and more, and surrounded what was left of the charred and mangled flesh that had once been a body.
And almost like a mother's embrace, the light drove away the monster, its scream of agony ringing in his ears. He was free.
Link jerked awake, drawing the small dagger he kept in his boot and breathing heavily. His eyes did not see for a moment, but his nerves were beyond fried and his head ached. His blood was pulsing in his veins and his muscles were quickly sore from tension. But after a second, and then two, where nothing attacked, he breathed a little easier. After another three did her put his dagger down, allowing himself a small breath.
It was by the tenth second did he notice something, or rather a lack of it. There was no mild hum in the back of his mind. Not a single thought drawn to the surface by some horrible thing made to abuse power and enslave. He could hear nothing – only the sound of the forest.
He dug through his bag, searching for the wretched thing, praying he hadn't let some vile beggar or skull kid lift it off him and become another unstoppable force for him to battle and slay or die trying. But his hand soon brushed the familiar leather. But they did not burn from power.
He brought it out to inspect it, perhaps it was a cheaply made copy his mind couldn't recognize immediately. But it was the same. It just had no power.
How odd.
It was then he realized he could see clearly, as if daylight were piercing the thick canopy. It wasn't, he didn't even need to check to know that was preposterous, but that was the only way to describe it. Perhaps he'd finally lost his mind. It surely wouldn't be the first time.
"My Child." A voice – warm like summer days and dry as the desert, cold as winter nights and beautiful as snow, ethereal and yet almost tangible with the power it exuded – echoed in his mind, halting his thoughts and freezing him to his place. Slowly, he looked to his right, gazing across the forest.
The wooden toy dropped the grass and shrubbery with not a sound, forgotten in the face of a true force of Nature.
He knelt before Her with immense speed, silently praying he hadn't been rude. He bent his head low and dared not to gaze upon Her again. "O' Great Mother!" He said. "I am unworthy of Your presence! Why has Her Courageous graced me with Her company?"
He dare not look up. He did not hear her approach, she did not respond. Only the sounds of the forest kept his ears company. He began to panic, had he been too slow? Had he been rude? Did he not address Her Courageous properly? He thought he'd remembered Her proper title, Zelda had made certain he'd learned all Their names and titles!
But there was no reprimand. He did not hear Her move, nor Her mighty voice. But he felt Her eyes on him, tracing the arch of his back and the tightness in his shoulders. Magically, She was before him without ever moving, hand to his chin and gently pulling him up to face Her. He had never felt anything more powerful – not Majora, not the Fierce Deity, not Ganon, not the Sages or the Deku Tree. Even the Giants, they all paled in comparison to the raw force She radiated.
He'd be lying if he said he weren't a little scared of it.
Her eyes were not like emeralds as some of the texts described, nor was Her hair like the forest grass, they were emeralds and intricately braided grass. Her skin was not quite pale, but more radiant; as if She had within Her the Sun, and it shined out. At least, half of Her was. A marred, near translucent skeleton formed Her other half, a jagged scar running up Her cheek and over Her eye like on old battle wound.
He'd be lying if he said he wasn't a little terrified.
He felt those eyes observe his face, noting how gaunt it was, every small wound or scar, every tiny pore, every detail was under Her scrutiny. He couldn't move under Her gaze, as if She'd pinned him with Her words and stare. Surely, She wouldn't kill him.
Right?
"What has happened to you, My Child?" She asked, Her voice once again flooding his mind. There was so much power in it he felt like his head would burst from the mere presence. He was surprised he could muster any sort of response.
"I've… I've seen…" He tried, but his throat burned with the effort. He hadn't had water before his nap and he hadn't had any after. But he would not leave Her waiting, She demanded an answer.
"I have tried… to help…" He started again, pushing past the cracking of his throat and the scratchiness of his voice. "So… so many people. And yet, I have seen them all die because of my failure. I nearly succumbed to an evil within me. My Goddess, I am unworthy of Your patronage."
He was exhausted, but he'd finished. He'd admitted it before his Almighty, and he would now suffer the consequences of failure. He was more than prepared. But nothing came. In fact, She smiled.
"You have not failed, My Child. You carry a burden that is more than any mortal should, and yet you carry it with the grace of a god." He stared into those emeralds, past the shimmering skin and bone, lost in Her power. He was forgiven?
She pressed a tender kiss to his head, as a mother to a child, and smiled again. "Rest now. You will find what you seek." She said. His eyes fluttered, and suddenly he felt like his nap had not been long enough. He 'fell,' of sorts, and returned to sleep. A sleep, not haunted by nightmares.
When he awoke, it was to the music of the forest. His water was filled, and he had somehow made it to the river. He knew better than to ask questions – his Patron had gifted him with this chance. Her words filled him with a new fire, rekindled the dying flame. He would not fail in his quest. He drained his water, filled it again and then bathed before setting off again, humming to the music of the forest.