Chapter Text
The light was blinding—and, somehow, it was loud. It insisted that he wake, that he open his eyes, but he could not find his eyes. He was a consciousness in a warm void with neither a beginning nor ending.
The light surrounded him, reminding him of his shape. His fingers tingled, and something soft as silk floated under his chin. A chill began to intrude upon the warmth.
Open your eyes.
The golden light was gone, and instead his vision was filled with a blurry blue. For a brief moment he thought of sleeping under open skies—
Wake up, Link.
He blinked slowly, and the world came into focus. The blue light was from a strange fixture above him. He was aware that he was half submerged in warm water, and that it had begun to recede. The room around him was cold; it clung to his damp skin. When the last of the water drained, the chill was enough motivation to move.
The boy sat up and looked around. There was no fear in him, only a dreamy curiosity. He did not understand the strange symbols carved into the stonework around him, and he did not know where he was or why he had been there in the first place. Had he put himself to sleep in this bath? Was he alone?
He knew he had a name, but what was it?
He was suddenly very awake. The boy’s heart raced as he felt out the void in his memory. There was something urgent that he had to do, but he could not recall it, and the urgency threatened to send his heart beating out of his breast.
He ran a hand through his hair and tried to steady himself enough to stand. He climbed out of the basin and stepped toward the center of the room to take it in, but the room was empty save for a pedestal in the corner. It glowed with the same light as the lamp above him and the bottom of the basin he had woken in, but it was near a closed gate—and the sight of that appealed to him.
He approached to examine it and was amazed when its glow intensified in his proximity. Then, it began to move. The stone ground softly against itself as the centerpiece rotated, and then there was a soft click: a small tablet popped out to stare at him with a single, glowing eye.
That is the Sheikah Slate. Take it.
He didn’t need to be told twice.
It was lightweight and cool, and it fit well in the palm of one hand. The wide, crying eye on one side kept glowing even after the pedestal it came from died down.
It will help guide you after your long slumber.
He held it up and examined the other side, which seemed blank and black only for a moment. Then the glowing blue eye appeared in the center. The boy had never seen this device before, he was certain. And yet… there was something familiar about it.
The gate unraveled beside him so silently he almost didn’t notice. He hurried into the next room to see if he’d meet another living being, but it was as empty as the first. Without thinking, he reached for his waist and hooked the Sheikah Slate to his belt—right on a loop that seemed made for it.
Before he could wonder at the fact that he wore a belt made for the Sheikah Slate, but no other clothing, he noticed a large, moldy trunk in the corner beside him. There was no lock, and inside were clothes. The shirt and trousers were so old they felt like crepe paper, and they were a little short, but they clearly were meant for him.
Who had left them? Had he? Surely not.
He dressed quickly. In addition to the clothes, he found boots and a strap meant for a sword. When he went to search the rest of the room, he found nothing but another pedestal. It, too, began to glow as he approached. This one was orange, not blue.
Hold the Slate up to the pedestal. That will show you the way.
He followed the suggestion (some part of him bristled at the thought of orders) and touched the face of the slate to the blank eye of the pedestal. As he did, a drop of blue light fell from the surface of the slate onto the eye—and the whole pedestal twinkled blue. He looked back at the active face of the Sheikah Slate and watched words appear before him: Authenticating,.. Sheikah Slate confirmed.
This time, the gate was larger, and he knew to watch for its opening. The eye at the center of the gate lit up momentarily, and the large stone pins that locked the gate in place began to retreat. As the last pillars began to rise, golden light spilled in to the room. It wasn’t as bright, as warm, or as loud as the light that had woken him previously, but it was brighter than any his eyes had seen in—a long time. He covered his face for a moment against the burning sensation of light on his skin, but soon the warmth coaxed him into looking up.
He could hear the wind whisper beyond the mouth of the cave.
“Link… You are the light.”
The boy hadn’t realized how stale the air in the crypt was until that first breeze came down the stairs to him. It caressed his face, ran through his damp hair. Link, he thought. That’s me.
“You are the light,” the wind said, “our light, that must shine upon Hyrule once again. Now, go.”