Link's Desperation

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Bile rose in his throat and tumbled about his insides. Consciousness returned to him slowly, like he had all the time in the world to wake up. He didn't want to wake up. Waking up meant returning to the world he didn't have time in, where pain was the only thing he could remember. With pain lighting up his body like he was on fire. He didn't want to wake up, he didn't want the pain, but he woke up anyway, forced to welcome the pain back. It made him wonder if he had been thrown off a cliff, such was the magnitude of his pain.

Link opened his eyes blearily. It took effort, for his eyelids would close every time he thought he was close to reaching his goal. A headache pounded in his skull as he stared up at a blurry, cloudy, high vaulted ceiling. Wait. No. The blurry- and cloudy-ness was because of his eyes, not the ceiling. A few moments passed before his brain sluggishly realized he'd seen that ceiling before. Not that he could figure out where he was because of the steady rhythm being drummed into his skull. It was a painful repetitive beat, occasionally punctuated by a loud brass clang.

The ceiling was moving, going away from him at a slow cautious path. Wait, that wasn't right. He was the one moving. How was he moving so confidently if he was staring at the ceiling and fighting just to remain conscious? No, he wasn't moving of his own accord. He was being dragged. He could feel the grooves of the floor as he passed over them. He guessed he was being pulled by his left arm, since his muscles burned there. His hand glowed where the triforce symbol lurked, he could feel it tingling. No, it was worse than a tingle, it was a burning like flames lashing at his skin. A cold leathery hand gripped his left wrist, maybe the triforce was reacting to that.

The ceiling seemed to be getting farther away, taller or higher maybe. Pretty glass interrupted the gray stone and cast blue shadows over his eyes. Link recognized them, enough that he was pretty sure he knew where he was. The abandoned mansion where his yeti friends lived. Wait. No, that wasn't right. The ceilings in the mansion were made of wood, not stone, and there was little glass on the ceiling, just giant holes from where the rotted wood had given up. So it wasn't there, but he did recognize this place. He'd definitely been there before.

Red obscured his vision. Had something fallen on him? It took him a minute to realize it was blood. He couldn't tell whether it was his blood or someone else's. It could be his blood. With all the pain he was in, it was possible his skin was breached. He tried to bring a hand, his right hand, up to clear his vision. But that was harder than it should have been. And painful, so agonizingly painful. He maneuvered his head, trying to see what was wrong. That was hard to do too, but simply because he was being dragged and nothing wanted to cooperate. What he saw when he finally managed to move his head nearly made him black out again. His arm was covered in blood. It left a trail from where it had slid against the ground. Metal shards stuck out of his arm like protective spikes, burrowing under his skin. The remains of his shield, the one given to him by Midna. It was sticking out of his arm! That wasn't all though. He'd been stabbed in the shoulder with a dagger. The wound was deep, going all the way through to the other side, dripping blood. Worse still, the dagger was still there. It was Midna's dagger, the one she'd given to him. It was a small mercy that he couldn't exactly remember what happened. A mercy that his brain was still withholding such information. His brain did let him remember who had stabbed him though. Someone he'd thought he could trust with his life.

Rusl. Rusl had stabbed him and... Wait. No, that wasn't right. Rusl hadn't even been out on the field, Link was certain of that. It couldn't have been Rusl, he could still trust Rusl. So maybe he couldn't remember exactly who had stabbed him, but he was sure it would come back to him whenever his head cleared. If his head ever cleared. It was as if lightning continued to strike his head and thunder reverated around his skull. He was so tired... Would anything bad happen if he closed his eyes and rested for a bit?

'My champion, please don't give up now...' a kind and gentle voice told him. He'd heard that voice before, somewhere in a half remembered dream...

"Long time no see." His voice was slurred and quiet. He wasn't sure why he said it. He could remember a part of that dream now... With a starling clarity he knew that the voice belonged to a blob of glowing gold, one of three. It wasn't much of an achievement, but in his defense he wasn't feeling the greatest.

'Hero, you have to be strong. You can not let evil triumph...'

"Thanks for... the advice, mystery voice."

'I am surprised that you don't know who I am.'

"Blessed Goddesses, how am I supposed to know?" He wasn't moving anymore. No longer was a leathery hand latched around his wrist, it had let go. The dragging had stopped and what little of the ceiling he could see and understand wasn't moving.

'There is your answer, my champion. I must return for now. I chose you for a reason. I have faith in you.' The voice left. Link was certain it had left, though he could not see it. Somehow he just knew, without having a reason.

"Goodbye stranger." But he knew the voice wasn't a stranger. It was familiar, belonging to someone he couldn't quite place. A memory he couldn't unlock. The voice's words puzzled him. He knew there was something he was missing, like the answer could be staring him right in the face.

"Hello Link." There was someone staring him right in the face! Someone with a wise and commanding voice. Through red tinted vision, he could see a pretty but pale and sickly face, rimmed in brown hair and adored with gold jewelry.

"Princess Zelda?"

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