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It had started when he had woken up.
When the golden light and blue hues had coaxed his eyes open after a deep slumber, her voice was the only thing he could hold onto— the only tether in the infinite darkness of his mind. He had no memories to turn to, only the faint warmth and comfort the voice provided.
But it was only that. A voice, and nothing more.
Well, until he stormed Hyrule Castle, that is.
Dodging turrets and guardians, he scrambled his way to the sanctum, her golden aura beckoning him forward, motivating him to keep pushing.
And that was what he had done. With a furrowed brow and Master Sword in hand, he slayed the beast— the only thing separating him from her. Out on Hyrule Field, he shot each arrow of pure light— her light —with careful, concentrated precision, as he bounded across the rolling hills and the green grass of his precious kingdom.
Although he still had little memory of her, he didn’t need memory to love her. This wasn’t memory, this wasn’t even love, really. This was— or… at least, felt like —instinct. The passion, the drive, the need to ensure that she was safe and calm… He knew there were more forces at play than he could see; there was something else.
But those were just theories…
An arrow hit its mark, and the world he knew began to crumble down, only to be replaced with something better, bigger.
In the years following, the voice stuck with him. But it was no longer a voice, she was here and with him and everything felt too good to be true.
And then, it had all started again.
With fingertips mere inches away from hers, she had tumbled into the abyss.
He had almost shaken off the ghostly figure of the arm that would soon become his, saying, Let me go! If anyone deserves to die, it’s me! I’m not even supposed to be alive in the first place, let me go!
But the arm didn’t listen, and the grip on his hand tightened, pulling him up and up and up—
And then, it had all started again, again.
A voice, a room, a stiff pain all throughout his body…
Except this voice wasn’t hers, the room wasn’t the same; it wasn’t even remotely similar…
But the pain— that seemed to always be the same.
And so, he had traveled again, leaping off cliffs that should’ve led him to his death, plunging into unknown waters, and trekking across fields of auburn grass as the sleek figure of a cream-colored dragon loomed above.
Her voice wasn’t comforting this time. It didn’t bring warmth, it didn’t bring that same sense of love like it had five years prior.
This time, her voice was a constant reminder of his failure. Pained and stained with grief, she would call out, her voice echoing throughout the entire kingdom… in his mind.
“Link! You must find me…”
He could feel her in the soil, the water, the sky— she was everywhere. And yet somehow, she was nowhere. Somehow, he had failed her again, just like how he did one-hundred years ago, why was he the Hero? … Weren’t Heroes supposed to just save people, not save people because of their own failure?
The tears he viewed were only replaced with his own after he viewed her memories. This was so eerily similar to the last time he had done this, finding scattered memories across the land and trying to piece together the big picture…
Except this time, he had all of his own memories (save for most of the ones before the Calamity).
And the big picture was beginning to be pieced together.
He said his silent prayers and apologies as he gripped the hilt of his sword, embedded within her head.
And when he finally traveled to the catacombs beneath beloved Hyrule Castle, he didn’t feel like himself anymore— not necessarily a bad thing. That energy, that spirit, took over his body and made the decisions for him. It swung his sword for him, slashing through countless enemies, and eventually, slashing through the Demon King himself.
Carried out to the sky, she had to save him, and upon her back, he traversed the three-dimensional battlefield with grace.
Reaching out as she plummeted towards the ground, he was going to correct the mistake he had made.
Fingertips mere inches away from hers, he—
caught on. Gripping her hand tightly and pulling her closer to his bare chest, they both zoomed towards the surface, ending in a splash that should’ve easily killed both of them, but didn’t.
(Maybe the Goddess was truly looking out for them— the fabled Hero and his Princess.)
It had started when he had woken up.
When the golden light and blue hues had coaxed his eyes open after a deep slumber, her voice was the only thing he could hold onto— the only tether in the infinite darkness of his mind. He had no memories to turn to, only the faint warmth and comfort the voice provided.
And it had ended when she had woken up.
When the golden warmth of the sun and the sparkling blue hues of his irises had coaxed her eyes open, his smile was the only thing she could hold onto— the only tether in the confusion of her awakening which should have been impossible.
It seemed only fitting that it had ended in the same way as it had begun.