Legend of Zelda Skyward Sword X Reader (ON HOLD)

Her Past

My name is Y/N, M/N, L/N. I'm 23 years old, H/L and H/C hair, I'm Y/H (Your height), and I write fantasy stories. My whole life I didn't feel like I belong. I always wanted to run away to magical land like in my mother's stories. As a child I was always coughing up blood, throwing up, passing out at random times.

I would watch other children play outside of my window praying that one day I would be able to do the same. I was always locked up in the house, and the only thing that kept me sane were the stories my mother told me of this magical land there was a princess named Zelda, a knight named Link who loved to sleep, a goddess named Hylia and her Daughter Y/N, a demon named Ghirahim, Link's companion named Fi, and so many others. My father always said the stories were idiotic. Though I could never hate him he provided for my mother and I. On his good days he was funny and playful, and on his bad days he would drink and yell at my mother. It never got physical though thank the Heavens.

When I was eleven he died of a heart attack forcing my mother and I to move in with my grandmother. She lived in a small two story house. My grandfather had built it before he died in the Army. It was a wooden house with four bedrooms, a large kitchen, average living room, five bathrooms, a basement, and a bomb shelter we used as storage. It was in the country barely anyone around. My grandmother owned a bakery which payed for pretty much everything.

I would draw everything I could see from my window almost everyday. I would draw the characters in the stories my mother would still tell me. Though the numbers of the stories would slowly decrease as my mother grew tired. Then the stories stopped as she became weak. My grandmother said she became delusional. So in hopes of trying to help her get better I would make up my own stories to tell her. They weren't very good, but they would be different everyday. I would always put my all in them. Until one day she was on her deathbed and she said to me, "Y/N, I must tell you the stories I have told you are real. When the time comes we will meet again my love. All you have to do is open the door. I love you." those were her last words. I never cried before then, and it seems I could only cry in that moment.

I watched from my window tears streaming down my face as they took her body away. My grandmother came into my room and gave me a necklace with three golden triangles and a space in the middle of them. She told me mother wanted me to have it. At the time I had decided that her saying the stories were real was just her delusions, but I still had a speck of hope that maybe just maybe it was real. That night I wrote my grandmother a note, and gathered my clothes, saved money from doing chores all of those years, and my crystal dagger my father had bought me. I put them in a F/C bag, and jumped out of the window from the second floor. I ended up landing on my face but luckily nothing was broken.

In all honesty I probably could have went out of the back door seeing as my grandmother is a heavy sleeper, but it felt cool. The dirt in my mouth wasn't though. I walked for a few hours to a bus stop and went as far as it could go. When the bus stopped I just kept walking and walking occasionally stopping for a break. At one point I came across a small town by the name of Cloak Falls. Probably the weirdest name for a town, but I found it intriguing so I stayed. Little did I know that this small town is where it all began.