Chapter Text
Thoughts - I should stop this
Ancient Technology - Stasis rune now available
A dull throbbing swept through his body. It started as a regular tingle in his fingers and toes. Slowly it spread to his shoulders and hips, moving as though some unseen hand forced feeling into him. It continued its slow path until his whole body was abuzz with its warmth. It would be comforting, if not for the fact he could not move, see or remember how he even got here.
Actually he can't remember a thing, not who or what he is, or if this is normal but by his body practically screaming at him that he needs to move he's going to say no. There's a terrifying moment that he thinks this is all there is. A never ending listlessness of feeling that cursed pins and needles in his arms, legs, and head with nothing other than his beating heart and ragged breath as company.
Wait, breathing!
He's moving and now He's the one controlling it and he feels a deep rooted annoyance about it that just as quickly is buried beneath the elation of moving. Movements that a moment ago were impossible become second nature now that he has a frame of reference and he spends a few moments revelling in it.
how far could I move? how quickly can I move? can I leave here? How long has he been here? Where is here? This strange familiar place with curling glowing roots of machine above him and cool stone beneath his back… oh he can feel now. It's not bad, the stone while not comfortable isn't unpleasant and the cold makes him want to sleep more.
I was asleep? Was sleeping that tingle that made me unable to move? I...I have to do something, anything to not go back to that. What was I going to do before? Right! Practice moving.
So he forces himself up and stumbles around the room in its dim light until he can walk straight. Then he goes faster and faster, around and around the room he goes until breathing hurts and he needs to rest. Not on the ground though he could fall asleep again if he does.
So he leans against the raised section to his side and catches his breath. A dull whir is all the warning he gets before a smooth black tablet of stone? Metal? Glass? Hits him in the nose where he was resting his face. He knew he could move but the idea of other things moving sent him into a frenzy of curiosity.
Why did it move? Was it because it didn't like me touching it? Could I make it move again?
A solid few minutes go to poking and prodding it to move with nothing happening before he makes a bold move and grabs it. It disconnects from the pedestal and he panics. Did I break it? Did it hurt? Was it ok? Why is it making noises at me?! IT'S GLOWING!!! IS IT SUPPOSED TO DO THAT?! I'M SORRY PLEASE STOP!!!
A minute passes with nothing happening and he summons enough courage to finally look at the glowing side of it.
Starting updates...
3 of 7
Huh, what's that supposed to mean?
4 of 7
well at least it's quick. I think?
5 of 7
6 of 7
7of 7
Loading please wait…
Welcome, please start the setup and personalisation process
Ok? he can do that.
It goes rather quick and he sets the colour scheme to a nice blue and black with orange accents. That is until it ask for his name.
What is my name? Do I have a name?
Oh! there's a suggestions list thank goodness, whoever they are.
Groose
Sylvine
Slurmp
Dampe
Ruta
Kodaga
Link
Delzi
Vete
Randomise names again
Link...sounds good.
Welcome master Link, please listen to the following instructions to access functions not blocked by admin.
Whose Admin? Well not like it matters.
And so....link goes through the basic functions of the slate, time, temperature, storage, the journal function, a blank map (real handy) and the settings.
Now what?
Please confirm age
Oh, right. how old am I? eh, 20 seems like a good number
Once confirmed a blinking warning message appears.
Thank you master link please stand back
Ok but why would he need to- Suddenly the wall in front of him opens to relieve another room, one slightly brighter and with stuff inside it. He b-lines it for the broken barrels, picks one up and throws it across the room expecting…… expecting what exactly? It crumbles to dust and rusted fittings but nothing else happens.
Thoroughly dejected he turns to the two chest. Looking inside revealed a set of clothing and a pair of boots. He isn't exactly warmer but the rough fabric on him feels comforting and now that he's wearing something he realizes how vulnerable he felt.
The end of the room had another platform but unlike the last one it pulses a dull orange. Fiddling with it proves useless as nothing pops out at him this time and it's only boredom that makes him place the slate on it in a last ditch effort. This proves effective at opening the wall to another room. Reaching the end of the hall leads to a ledge that leads up and to the brightest light he's ever seen (not that the list is particularly long).
With only a small effort he's standing atop the ledge. When the slate had come to life, Link was at first scared before wonder had taken its place. The dazzling lights pulsing along its smooth surface were mesmerizing But that is nothing compared to what lays ahead of him. The colours of Soft green grass disrupted by reds, blues, and yellows from flowers and mushrooms, the vast blue sky freckled with white clouds. The sound of dragonflies buzzing by, the bird songs clear and loud. The smell of dirt and the slight whiff of smoke on the breeze.
He cries, there's so much everything all around him and his sobs turn to laughter just as quickly.
“Are you alright there little one?” a voice that was borderline ancient behind him drew him from his hysteria. Startled, Link spun around so quickly he got dizzy and fell, the looming silhouette of a mountain of a man stood still as death.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.” he said so quietly it was a hair above a whisper.
Slowly he sat before link, grey beard gently blowing in the wind. “I haven't seen anyone come up here in a long time and you had me worried, why don't we step away from the cliff and head down to my camp, share a couple of freshly baked apples?” He was making an effort to seem smaller and was talking in a soothing tone. Link on his part was suddenly aware of how hungry he was and with a short nod began to follow the old man.
Sat by the warmth and dancing light of the fire the old man offered a warm baked apple. Link nearly started crying at the first bite, it was so sweet and juicy he could eat a hundred and one of them and still not be full. He settled for three since the old man only had six and Link didn't want to be rude and eat all of them.
“Feeling better I suppose?” the old man said with a warmth in his eyes that made Link feel safe for the first time since he awoke.
Link and the old man sat there until the sun painted the horizon in reds and golds. Watching the sky and listening to the sounds around him never got tiring, even hours later. ”It's getting dark, why don’t you stay with me tonight, it's safer with company out here." Link couldn’t find fault with that, after all every moment he spent around the old man made him feel safer.
The old man led him to a little house near a clearing. Inside was cosy, all of it looked hand made and well used. The old man rolled out some dusty furs in front of a fireplace “sorry, it's all I got in terms of spare bedding but luckily it's summer so the nights don’t get too chill up here." Link thought it was great, way softer than the cold stone tub he was in.
“Try to get some sleep and-” panic had struck him and Link raced to the corner. He wants me to sleep. To go back to that tingling, non-moving state.
How could he want me to do that and the way he said it like it was nothi-
“What's the matter? Are you alright?”
doesn't he realize what sleep is?
“Was it something I said?” fervent nods was Link's answer. “Alright, do you think you could tell me what it was?”
That would be great if Link's throat didn’t feel so constricted at the thought of speaking. So how could he tell the old man without…
He flipped through the slate to the journal and typed out a full paragraph before deleting the incoherent mess and settling on.
Sleep bad
The old man squinted at the writing before taking a small breath. “You don't have to worry, it's perfectly safe here, you don't have to fear something happening before you awake”
What if I don’t wake up
What if I'm stuck like that again?
Something cold settles in the old man's stomach at those words. To see someone so young and full of wonder be terrified of dying in their sleep makes him curse the calamity with a greater vigour than ever before but right now he has a scared kid to comfort so he needs to be calm and reassuring.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you wake up and i can give you something to help sleep better.”
Something loosens in Link's chest, clearly the old man must know how to make sleep at least bearable. With a reluctant acceptance link drinks a cup of sweat smelling tea and lays in between the furs on the ground. “I could tell you a tale to take your mind off things if you would like?” A nod from Link and the tale began.
“Once there was a young boy who lived in a forest full of children but he was different from the rest, he had no fairy companion to guide him and play with. That is until The Great Deku Tree, the guardian of the forest, sent out a fairy to the young boy for help..” The story wove itself easily, though he could not remember where he heard it but he knew it was an old one.
The gentle snores of the young boy cut off his tale right as he was getting to the third spiritual stone.
“Well, good night little one and sleep well."
Before the old man slept he prayed, a rare thing to do for him, he prayed that the kid he found at the edge of a cliff didn't fall and that he didn’t fail at saving someone a second time.
Link woke to the gentle smell of something sweet and flowery wafting through the air.
Whatever the old man gave him worked a treat. One moment he was listening to the deep baritone of his voice and the next he was woken up by a light humming coming from his left. It was nice in a way he hadn't felt in a long time. Was it before I fell asleep the first time?
“Good timing, the tea is almost done.” The old man was sitting by his side near the fire, pouring an old teapot into a pair of clay cups. “I always find a cup of lavender tea helps me relax and prepare for the day.” He said while handing Link a cup, the warmth spreading into his hands. It had a slightly different taste to the one from last night and the heat settling in his chest made him feel more awake.
“Say, now that we're wide awake why don’t we get to know each other a bit?”
Yes please, what's your name? Mine is Link
“Link….I think I used to know someone with that name.” The old man was silent for a short time, seemingly deep in thought. Link was tempted to ask again when the old man came back to himself. “ah yes, my name is Rhoam…. Sorry it gets harder to remember somethings when you get to my age.”
You have memory problems too?
“Too? Do you not remember something? Maybe I can help a bit. What don’t you remember?” The worried expression on Rhoams face went unnoticed as link went through a checklist of things on the slate.
I remember how to read, write, and move, Although that took a while to come back, and what things are called but nothing else.
“Hmm….yes well I suppose it may come back in time but for now what do you mean it took a while for movement to come back to you?”
When I woke up I couldn’t move at first
Rhoam puts aside how concerning that nugget of information is for now and moves on to asking “Were you hurt at all when you woke up? No bleeding?.....how did your head feel?”
My head hurt a bit but not much
“Ahh yes you must of hit your head-” or got hit on the head but Rhoam wasn’t going to worry link with that possibility quite yet “- so in time your memories should return.”
That's good
“Indeed”
Several moments passed with Rhoam sitting deep in thought and link fidgeting. Link, having grown bored of watching the fire lick at wood, had began inspecting the home more in depth than last nights cursory glance.
There's a desk and chair in the corner, a bookshelf with a number of dusty tomes, a cupboard with only one door and a broom next to a couple of … pots
“Looking for something in particular? The only thing I keep in those are arrows.” It wasn’t until Rhoam's voice called from across the room did link realize he was holding one of the pots in his hands. Carefully he sat it down and continued looking around, resolutely avoiding looking at that corner of the room lest some deep rooted instinct takes control again.
Rhoam saw Link begin to inspect his home and left him to his exploration. In the meantime he muses on what he knows of Link. He's scared of going to sleep, has some form of amnesia likely coming from a head wound, far too young to be traveling alone and is currently staring at that pot like it holds the source of all his woes and the cure for them. “Looking for something in particular? The only thing I keep in those are arrows.”
The way Link's ears turn bright red and he very obviously stops looking at them is amusing. He's like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“Alright I can tell how restless you are so lets get outside and explore.” Really, its obvious he's itching to investigate his surroundings. Even when he was asleep he couldn’t sit still. oh Well, my daughter was just as rambunctious at his age.
Wait, daughter?