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The Courageous Hero. That's what they call him- what they called me, I guess.
He's not who I am.
A Hero would have defeated Calamity Ganon already. He'd rush in, regardless of his wounds. That's what he did before. But I can't.
Ever since I woke up, weapons feel strange in my hands. I can use all of them, sure, and the Lizalfos and Bokoblins are easy enough to defeat. Yet none of it is comfortable. The grips chafe at my palms, the weights threaten to off-balance me, the sounds of a clash give me a headache. Even the Master Sword, the blade that chose me, that sings to me when Calamity is near, feels odd to hold. It should be made for me, I should've practiced with it for years, my callouses should be formed to it- but it isn't, and they aren't, and it's yet another strike against me.
I should go to the castle. I should free you. But I haven't. I sit atop an old watchtower, and look anywhere but to the plains. I climb a mountain so I can find a different height, something even further away. Maybe if I get far enough, that purple and black cloud will leave my periphery. Maybe if I climb high enough, the para-glider will be able to carry me past the cliffs and valleys that surround Hyrule. The land is different now, and I want to see all of it. Or maybe it was always like this, and I just never saw it, because you were with me, and I couldn't mind anything else.
Not that I wanted to mind anything else, I don't think. It's hard to tell. Your memories, my memories- they blur together. I can't tell what I truly felt, because the feelings you thought I had are there, too. That's something you didn't predict about the Sheikah Slate, I guess. That your perspective would cloud mine.
But it's alright. You know who you are. Even when your father pressed you towards your inherited path, or when the goddess refused to hear you. You always kept going, and always tried to do what you wanted, because you know exactly what that is. Even when we lost everything, and I had to guide you, you kept moving. You didn't even really need me, in a lot of ways- what you needed came to you, didn't it?
You even knew what you wanted to say to me, always. I'm still not sure what I'll say back, when I hear what you were about to say to the Great Deku Tree, to pass on.
Maybe I'm afraid of that, too.
Maybe I was never courageous. Maybe others were always just more afraid than I was. Now it's clear that they're not, that these Hylians, and the Zora and Gerudo and Rito and Gorons, have to deal with so much more. Many of them lost everything, or their families did, and now they've slowly rebuilt. Even with Calamity looming over them, even without a Hero, they live. They travel the roads without a weapon, even with monsters ready to attack them. They explore and hunt and find love. People must have done that before, but I never noticed it. It all seems so much more precious now.
Maybe you'll want to study all of it.
But I'll have to free you first, won't I?
I feel nauseous. Fighting terrifies me so much. What if I get wounded again? You aren't here to make sure I get back to the resurrection chamber- to my grave, really, because I must have died back then. Why else did it take me so long to wake up? Something about that pod must recreate a life, or call a spirit back, and it takes a while because spirits don't care about time. And what about all the people I'd let down? The ones that recognize me, or recognize this sword. The Great Fairies that went into hibernation without someone to remember them, the Dragons that keen so sadly as they make their lonely flights, the people that need just a little extra nudge to achieve their goals. The spirits of our old friends, and the Divine Beasts they fought so hard to control.
I can't leave them all behind.
Maybe I was only a Hero before because of Hylia.
I think I hate her. I don't want to pray at her statues, or visit her shrines.
She's always watching me, even as she turned her back on you, and I find I can't trust her. Her monks bless me, and her statues confirm that blessing. I go to the deepest pit I can find, and there's another representation of her. One of her temples was a simple walk away from my grave. This sword is one of her artifacts, calling to me in her voice. I can't help but feel it is a lie, after she ignored your prayers.
I put more stock to the Dragons and the Fairies. They reward my efforts, but she assumes my faith.
It chafes at me, much like the weapons I pick up.
"The blood moon rises once again."
Your voice, warning me. Watching out for me. And reminding me that Calamity grows stronger.
How do you do it? How do you keep it pinned? How do you keep the humanity that you had a hundred years ago, in the face of such raw hatred?
How do you remember who you are?
I have been to all of the shrines. I have received Hylia's final blessing. The Fairies cannot help me any more. The Dragons have no more gifts to give. The Divine Beasts are primed, and our old friends await their final call. No one calls for help anymore. I have a reputation.
What do I do?
All that's left is to face the castle.
Wait for me, Zelda.