Work Text:
you cannot leave.
it is a discovery you never thought you’d make
a thought you could not have conceived of
it feels impossible, even now
yet here you are
you stand on the brink
and you know it to be true
your mind rebels
belief rejected
and yet
and yet
and yet.
you never strayed too far in those long and lonely days of your journey
wandering the land in search of what you needed
to defeat an ancient horror
to free a princess mured in her own castle, out of time
out of place
just like you
you stole over lands you had not seen in a century
that she had watched from her golden, broken tower
and you did your best not to become too distracted
for you knew your time was borrowed against the power of a single girl
a fragile dam to hold back the wave of hate
of malice
of all that was evil
that had slept for ten thousand years
that had waited with patience for the chance to twist the machines that had wounded it, once
(not again, never again, it whispered in the dark, unheard by all until it was too late)
that now was held in check by a girl with the power of the goddess
you dared not ask for how long she could manage it
in lieu of discovering the answer, you did your best
you succumbed to the temptations of wandering a handful of times
(and how could you not? when a land woven of mystery and beauty spread out before you?)
(when there seemed to be something exciting around every corner)
(down every path)
(so you took a few of them, swallowing your guilt like a bitter elixir)
but in the end, you did your duty, as timely as you could
and you never found out how long she could have held out without your help
how long those hands charred with hate could have been restrained
even still, you saw them in your travels:
the endless sea of golden sand, glittering under a descending sun
the shadows of mountains, brown and craggy
the boundless ocean at dawn, a horizon that seemed to never end
perhaps some distant spit of land, always beckoning, like a mirage in the dunes
the broad, deep canyons, splitting the land like scars, like open mouths
conical peaks like teeth with green, green hills and plains beyond
sheer cliffs even you might not be able to scale
you never saw anyone on the other side
but you thought
you assumed
they must be there, just out of your sight
you allowed them some space in your imagination, as a way not to think for a few minutes about your own duty
about the grinding of the hands of the clock in your head
you let them work and dance and sing and eat
strange foods
strange songs
strange faces
strange places
all of it far away, yet so close
just beyond the bounds of everything you know and don’t know
a land even more foreign than the one you awoke in
in this way, Hyrule became your cave
and you wondered, like you had at the start of this
(not truly the start)
if you might someday emerge into the light of a new land again
you did not sit long with such thoughts
you could not
no one could afford it
the cost for one delay too many too much to pay
the price for a loss in focus too high
and so
you walked on
inexorably
towards the inevitable.
when the taste of victory filled your mouth
(flavored, curiously, like the ashes you inhaled from the fires your foe set)
Zelda asked you a question
yes, you told her
yes
I remember you
it is no lie
you gathered recollections of her here and there, like pieces of a broken vase
so in truth you do remember
if only in part.
you wonder if that is enough for her
you wonder what she will say next
a white-capped wave crashes against the shore of your heart: the fear that she will ask
or expect
something you have no answer for
that she will see the holes in you
and you will have nowhere to hide
a fraud in a mended tunic
what then?
but all she does is smile
she smiles and speaks of different things
words eddy around you, a constant churning froth
of ideas
and plans
and ambitions
a vision of a world that was
that can be again
if she is to be believed
she sketches in the air a blueprint
of rebuilt towns
of a restored castle, its spires sparkling in the true sun
allowed to see the embrace of night at last
after a century cupped in the gold of a goddess-blood princess’ power
and as she held them
she waited
she planned
she thought
she hoped
all for this day
this chance at rebirth
if the calamity can reincarnate, she says, why not Hyrule?
his resurrection came and went
now is the time for the land he ravaged to live again
she says:
it is only fair.
you listen and you listen
you nod and agree
they are noble, her ambitions
they are well-meaning and kind
the details overwhelm you at times
but you see in her eyes the light of love
for a land she sacrificed so much for
that has already lost enough
and you believe in her vision
you do
this is all to say: it is not because of her that you answer her next question the way that you do.
she asks you
with hope in her eyes
and a tremor in her voice
if you will stand by her side again
be her knight
go where she goes
help her restore this land of hers
of yours
of everyone’s
to what it was, what it could be
shining bright under the sun, ruins made whole
by the work of her hands
hand in hand with yours
with all those of the myriad peoples of Hyrul
ea webwork of stars illumining the kingdom
once lost, now found again
she asks all that of you
and all you can say
is that you don’t know
that you need time to think
that you must go find answers, somewhere out in this wide world
sorrow paints her eyes
in brushstrokes that color her face
her voice
but it is acceptance that spills from her lips, however saddened
she bids you well
she tells you—go
take your time
she will wait for you
she will be busy while you search
she forces herself to smile as she says
that you may not recognize Hyrule when you return
(how do you tell her that it is already barely more than a stranger)
you nearly open your mouth to tell her why
to explain yourself to her
only to find
that you cannot explain yourself
even to you
is it selfishness?
is it a fear of a loss of freedom?
is it weariness?
you don’t know
you don’t know.
her request is not a bad one, you freely admit in the privacy of your own mind
to be her knight again? well, why not?
if nothing else, it would be something to do
something to fill these days of peace with
a purpose to latch your heart to
a friend to confide in, who once struggled under the same destiny that marks you
it is not a bad way to spend your time
but you are not ready.
you need this space
you need this time
you need to be elsewhere
somewhere far away, where none of the things that sank their claws into the flesh of your life can touch you
where they never existed
where no one knows you
where you are not a legend
not a hero
just a person
the way you haven’t been in so long
you need that
you need to be alone
with your questions
with your grief
with this person you are
a stranger, still, to yourself
you wonder: what will you find out there, in that new wilderness?
will it be you?
or someone else?
the question stirs your blood
and you cannot mount your horse fast enough
as you ride for lands unknown
(lands you will never see.)
the first barrier is subtle
or at least as subtle as these things can be
you hadn’t realized it before
not having seen
or perhaps not having truly looked
at how thoroughly those canyons bisect the land
the words of a dead king echo in your ears as you stare at them
at the distance
at the depth
at the mists that coil and eddy at the bottom
never pulling back
never whispering their secrets to you
your eyes barred from seeing their true nadir
you recall his words
your fear as you teetered at the edge of a plateau filled with ghosts
so you withdraw, the paraglider weighing heavily upon your back
could it bear you across the chasm?
you are not sure you should risk it
and so you go next to the desert
your feet clad in boots tricked out of a repulsive man
your body protected from sun, from wind, from sand
your borrowed slate full of food and water
a pristine shield beneath your feet, you take a docile sand seal
and aim for those distant dunes
you are pushed back.
no matter where you go, you are pushed back
the golden sands melt away
the hills and peaks fade
all are consumed
(revealed?)
by a sandstorm that conjures itself out of nowhere the moment you go too far
the air roils and stains itself emerald
the screen of the slate dissolves into a sea of static
unable to see more than a short distance ahead, your eyes burning with molten grains of earth
you give up
you turn back
you try again and again
taking your sand seal all along the desert’s nebulous borders
but at last you give up
accepting the cruelty of the desert
(a final curse from the calamitous beast, once a man of the sands? perhaps. perhaps.)
elsewhere, the river rushes into the sea
the sea bears its currents back and forth, guided by the moon
it joins with the sky, their bodies united like lovers in an embrace
where one cannot tell where one ends and the other begins
forming a horizon ever drenched in color
dancing with light in every hue
you seek that horizon after your failure in the desert, your loyal horse bearing you to Lurelin
to swaying palm trees and alabaster sand
to the cries of gulls and the sound of waves
to the smell of salt and the taste of palm fruit
to
hopefully
your escape
you pay for a boat this time
a handful of rupees, glistening in the tropical sun
you barely hear them clink as they pass from your calloused palm to that of the shop owner
in your head, you are already lost at sea
lost in the sound of the waves, the sea birds, the ripple of sails
in the promise of a new world beyond that bright horizon
you set sail at the dawn of a new day
believing the rising sun to be auspicious
its golden hue reminds you of—no, you must not
you must not think of the lost ones
the ones for whom your heart still drowns in grief and regret and confusion
save your thoughts, you tell yourself
save your thoughts of them until it is safe
until you may weep in a land so far from their ghosts that you may safely mourn
unseen by any who would want strength from you
who would expect it from you
for now—
for now just—
go.
where? comes the question
where can you go?
the answer remains absent from your throat
because the horizon remains static
because the shapes in the distance do not grow
because the distance does not shrink
because the wind and the waves push you back
and then go still as a stopped heart
the doldrums.
you remember—that is what they are called
endless stretches of windless waters
through which no boat can cut
the horizon is still so far away
as you push without luck against a sea that seems to be made of sludge
yielding to you even less than the muck you’ve seen on the mainland
you are trapped
unable to move forward
and though you have come so far
it has all been for naught in the end
resigned to another failure, you turn your boat around
and find a shock.
had you thought you sailed far from shore? it felt as such
but you did not.
the coast, awash in lamplight as the sun’s reign decays again
calls a greeting to your disbelieving eyes
from so short a distance it does not seem possible to have traversed so little
you try again
and again
as the stars emerge
as a crescent moon rises
treading the celestial river as a silver, curved coracle
and still you try
still you fail.
worn down and weary, you sail back to Lurelin
your mind soaked in so many thoughts it feels like a wet rag
you wring it out and go to bed
where before you can find the ease of sleep
a disquieting thought coos through the open window
your memories of your life are still in so many pieces
shards submerged in the mire of amnesia
yet here and there edges glitter like gold
waiting to be retrieved
you tug one of them now.
watch: as the recollection gilds the humid night
watch: as the images whirl and dance
watch: as they take shape in your battered mind
yourself, a child, tucked into a comfortable bed
your mother by your side, in the cerulean chambers of Zora’s Domain
her hands—smaller and less scarred than your own are now, yet still limned with familiarity—clutching a book
a tome brought from Hateno, brimming with children’s tales
she reads you one
in a voice soft and warm
the tale she tells unsettles you.
it reaches past your skin
it reaches past your bones
it rattles your ribs
chills your blood
in the present more so than the past
listen: to the story of a princess in a castle
listen: to the whistling wind through the shadowed woods surrounding her home
listen: to the creak of the gates as she slips from her sanctuary
listen: to her curiosity turned to confusion turned to terror
as she finds nothing but ebon forest
a great void where the rest of the world should be
listen
to the beating of your own heart
as you realize
that you may be in that castle
seeking a way out of that dark forest that does not exist
that you cannot leave your cave after all
it so disturbs you that you are unable to reach the oblivion of sleep that you crave
so instead
you leave.
you take yourself to the farthest reaches of Akkala where you know
where you think
that there may be one last way open to you
one last possibility of escape
a stretch of dry, barren land beneath the lush green cliffs of the Akkala Wilds
roaming out towards those teeth-like peaks
if what you saw at the lab there did not deceive you, then maybe
maybe
you can find your way to those other lands from there
whether by climbing or swimming or walking, it does not matter
only as long as you get there
jade mists fill this canyon too
their fingers crawling up the sides of the sheer cliffs
in the distance you see hints of those green lands
and your heart stirs helplessly in your breast
you want to see them
you need to see them
if you cannot, then—
then what?
you do not know.
you are, however, about to find out
the first conical peak awaits you not far from where you dropped down
your heart and feet speed up
blending into one thunderous noise as you sight your escape
sight your hope
sight your—
you can’t finish that thought.
because
you can’t
go
any
farther.
the wind stops you, beating your body back with a force that will not brook any fighting
you fight anyway
or try to
to no avail.
tears burn in your eyes
a cry erupts from your throat
your fists clench at your sides
all of it futile
because this
is all there is
and you cannot leave.