legendoflink (legendoflink) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-09-06 21:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, link |
Who: Link (Narrative)
Where: Link's apartment
When: 9/6/2015
What: Link has a dream, hinting at more dreams to come.
Rating/Warnings: Perhaps an allusion to death, but really nothing serious.
Status: Closed | Complete
Link's dreams were always a thing of torment anymore. In the beginning he'd come to believe the dreams were just following the line of the dreams he'd had as a child within those dreams. Child Link, it would seem, had dreams that told of curses, or fire, or blood. They were so vague, always so vague, and left the young Hylian feeling cold, and alone every night. It was never anything along the lines of the premonitions Zelda was famous for, she had something of a sort of wisdom on her side that often let her decipher them, see them clearly; her magic was real, something to be used, to touch, to understand. She was powerful, in a different way, but still similarly to Ganon. He, too, had magic. But he didn't have the wisdom to see its truest potential. He simply knew its power.
No, for Link, there might have been magic playing at him. It might have been influencing him, but he wasn't able to wield it, not in the same way. He wasn't powerful, he wasn't wise, he just was. He was the courage to face against might, magic, and things far beyond him. So why did he have these dreams? He had just assumed, of course, it was because there were forces far bigger than him at play, and he was just tied into it somehow and so it pulled at him. Yet, the dreams kept coming, and while they weren't ever fully understood, they kept giving him glimpses into things.
Then, things began to change. Tonight started out no differently, there he stood, as a child, green tunic sword and wooden shield hand in hand. This dream was always the more vivid, he could see things, knew where he was, what was going on. The night was dark, stars and moon blotted out in darkness of black clouds that rolled over head, the rain crashing into the wet grass beneath his booted feet, and the scratches of lightning across the sky and striking towards the north into Death Mountain. It all felt so incredibly ominous.
Then the familiar sound, so vibrant in his ears, as the flashing of the lightning illuminated the walls of Hyrule Castle Town in front of him, there it was. The sound of the chains rustling, the draw bridge collapsing quickly and slamming into the dirt as it fell precariously quick. A speed that showed ferocity, urgency, not care. Then the sounds of horse hooves running, gliding hurriedly, and Link watched Zelda and Impa race past on their white steed. He made eye contact with each, Impa and her discerning, always calculating features with a hint of panic, and Zelda with her constant thinking, planning, but obvious panic in her own face. Something was wrong. She shouted something, threw something, but Link only watched it sail into the moat behind him, and instead turned to face the large black steed of Ganon.
The sound of cold steel drawing was heard, as the child who felt like he'd accomplished so much, but who'd accomplished so little, stood to face Ganondorf. The powerful King of the Gerudos said his usual speech, Link remained silent and determined as usual, and then Ganon sent out a powerful surge of magic that knocked Link unconscious.
Usually, this was when Link was startled awake, or he'd wake up in his dream to grab the Ocarina and then wake. But tonight, there was a change. Tonight, the darkness felt different, it felt more present. Link was somehow distinctly aware that he wasn't the child in his dreams anymore, but only himself, standing in pure darkness, feeling hot. There was a chorus of haunting music playing, the same song he'd once heard in the Temple of Time when he'd explored there before setting out on his adventure for the other two stones.
Then he heard a voice, it was distant, sounding like it was being spoken through water, it was dark, deep, full of contempt and hatred. It was vile, but spoke with an eloquence only someone who truly believed in his own hatred could muster, "My hate... never perishes. It is born anew, in a cycle that never ends!"
Link saw blurry glimpses, as if he were floating through reality in a bubble of water. Everything was distorted, hard to see, hard to understand. But he saw mountains, clouds from above them, distant islands in the sky. He saw Hyrule again, but the land was different, more developed. He saw deserts, destroyed. He saw glimpses of a world negated of light, yet hauntingly beautiful. He saw a new world, a new land, and a moon. But he saw no features to discern any of these worlds, he didn't understand them.
All he heard was that same voice, echoing through the water as it struck him from behind and beyond it would seem, "An incarnation of my hatred shall ever follow your kind, dooming them to wander a blood-soaked sea of darkness for all time!"
The voice was black in its rage, darkened by such a damning hatred... then the worlds went black, and the fires were felt again. A face, shadowed in darkness, raised its dark eyes towards Link in the midst of the shadows and somehow he felt a distinct sense of the feature smiling in its darkness, before it spoke, "I will rise again."
Link jumped to a start, and blinked several times as he lay in his bed. His chest soaked in sweat, his head wet. He swallowed several times before looking around as he slowly calmed down. He felt a distinct pain in his hand, a warming there, it ached it wasn't heavy. He just rubbed at it, then slowly pushed to his feet as he crawled out of his bed. Shaking his head, he moved to open a window, before heading into the bathroom to splash water on his face.
When he looked up to see the mirror, he frowned. There that face was staring back at him. His hair was growing blonder, that was obvious. His ears far pointier than ever. He looked less and less like the man he'd grown to be, and more and more like the kid in his dreams. A sigh, and he moved into the empty house, rubbing at the back of his head before making his way towards the kitchen to fill a glass of water and to drink it deeply. That one was weird, stranger, it felt different. Everything about it felt different.
Dropping into his chair in the living room, he simply turned on Netflix and began searching for something to entertain him. It was only 3am, meant he got at least 5 hours tonight. That was a blessing at least.