Chapter 6 - Return to Termina

He paused, and looked around him. How did he get here? The forest? He must have run across the whole of Hyrule, trying to get away from...
Link dropped to his knees and groaned. How could I have done such terrible things? he thought. He tried to reason with himself, trying to cope - it wasn't really me, it was the Fierce Deity - but that didn't do anything to help, when he knew deep inside...they were one and the same.

But who was he, anyway? In his confusion and fear - ha, so much for the Triforce of Courage! - he hadn't even realised who he was anymore. He knew he was Link, but that was all... Who was this person kneeling on the floor in the heart of the woods...?

He heard rushing water, and wandered across to see a crystal-clear stream weaving its way across the forest floor. Link bent down and looked into the waters, then jumped back in surprise, the ten-year-old inside in control for a second. Telling himself to stop being stupid, he peered closer at his reflection.

The face that stared back was that of a Hero of Time, around 20 years old, with blue eyes and blond hair. The blue-and-red marks that he had seen so often had vanished. He looked at his arms and body. A green tunic, with white sleeves and leggings, just like he'd once worn, but - not all traces of Fierce Link had gone, as the black and silver armour still graced his chest and hands.

So. This is who I am now, is it? Is this who I am inside?

Out of curiosity, he reached round to his back and felt a sword handle over his shoulder. He pulled it out and looked. Just like him, the weapon was half way between one form and another - not the helix blade of the Deity, or the child's gilded Kokiri sword. Two blades, long and straight, more like a razor sword than anything, but the same length as the Master Sword. One was silver in colour, the other golden, and marked with odd runes. What did they mean? He held it up, trying to puzzle out what they said. Navi or Tatl could probably have made them out, but neither fairy was here... He lowered his eyes, remembering how Navi had flown away from him in the early days after... his transformation. She hadn't known who he was any longer - she had been Link's guardian, but not Oni's. He hadn't missed her company then, but he did now.
I wish she was here... Who am I kidding? If she was here now, she'd just see who I was...

Sighing, he sat down, and threw an idle pebble into the river. Its tinkling splash sounded all too similar to Navi's voice.
And all too similar to something else he could hear - it was just on the edge of his senses, but it was still there. Intrigued, he replaced the sword and followed the sounds. As he got closer, the faint noises turned to laughter and conversation. Eventually, he saw an almost familiar scene... A thin and scruffy figure sitting on a log with two fairies flying round him. "Skull Kid?" Link mouthed. He walked closer.

A twig snapped. Skull Kid looked round, and Tatl and Tael flew out to see what the noise was.
The older fairy stopped in surprise. Her brother almost flew into her, before seeing who she saw.

"Is that you...Link?" she asked. She recognised her old friend, despite the passage of time...

"Yes!" I think so, anyway... "...Tatl? Is this Termina?"

"Not quite... But just follow the river that way to get to the portal, and to Clock Town. Why? Are you coming back?"

Tatl's question stopped Link in his tracks. Was he going to return to Termina, after all this time?
What was left for him in Hyrule?

He couldn't go back.

"Yes. I am."

-

He pushed open the Clock Tower doors, and looked out into the bustling town. At first glance, nothing had changed, as the square in front of him appeared identical to how he'd seen it for the first time ten years ago. After a closer look, however, things seemed slightly different - a market was in full swing. For a second, he was reminded of... running into himself, not even a week ago... and half-expected to see a Terminian counterpart in the crowds. Nothing happened, and after a minute's pause he walked onwards. He hoped there would be room at the Stock Pot - would Anju and Kafei recognize him? he wondered. At least here, they would recognize a friend, and not a warlord...

The inn was quiet, and he checked in quickly. He wondered if they'd redecorated recently, as he was directed to the room he'd stayed in the first time. Wandering up the stairs, thinking, something ran into him. He snapped round to see a young girl sprinting down the steps. She turned round to apologise -
and Link was struck with a sense of déja vu...
Saria?... Did Kokiri even exist in Termina? Even if they didn't, the resemblance between his oldest friend and this child was unmistakable. She'd even dyed her hair green.

"Sorry!" she piped up, nervously.

"No...I should've been looking where I was going." He had too much to apologise to her counterpart over - and a little of this responsibility rubbed off on the youngster. She doesn't need to say sorry. I do... "It's just... you remind me of someone I used to know."

"Were you friends?" she asked, forgetting her earlier fears.

"We were... once..."

For a while, they talked as two children. The girl's name was Miria, and she was staying for a while with her uncle and cousin who lived to the north of town. However, she'd wandered off and gotten lost, forgetting her way back... She'd looked everywhere, but she didn't know where to go...

"I'll help you find them." Another bit of the debt he owed the forest children... and besides, he knew what it was like to be stuck lost and alone. At least she doesn't have to worry about the moon...

Her eyes lit up. "Will you? Thank you!"

"Of course."

-

They presented a strange pair, the happy-go-lucky child and a fighter in full armour. Yet, neither seemed worried by the other's company. Miria tagged along behind Link as they headed for the North Gate. Even though it was ten years since he'd been here, it seemed like only yesterday... Things had changed! Houses had been built where he remembered just parkland. Miria's eyes lit up. "This is it! This is the spot! They live over there! Thanks!..." She paused. "Why don't you come in?"

She ran over and knocked at the door. An old - no, he wasn't so old, just fatigued and worried - man opened it. Something looked familiar about him, but Link couldn't lay a finger on what it was. "Ah! Where did you get to? We were worried!..." He stopped, realising she wasn't alone. He looked at Link, sure he'd seen him before... He whispered something under his breath.
"Uncle Darris? This is Link. He helped me find my way back here."
The confusion faded. "Oh? Pleased to meet you. Thanks for finding Miria..."
"She found me, really!"
"Well. Whatever. Are you new in town?"
Link paused. "Last time I was here was ten years ago..." Another pause. How much could he tell them? "For the carnival..."
"Ten years ago? You mean, when the moon..."
He grimaced. "Yes. That's it exactly."
"Can I come in?" Miria interjected.
"Oh. yes. Of course. And you can, too..."

The house, despite being so new, felt old. Part of the atmosphere was created by the rows and rows of bookshelves which lined the walls. The room was more like a library than anything... A large table filled up a lot of the floorspace. More books were open there, along with various ancient scrolls. It looked like someone had been copying something. Link peered closer, and puzzled out the crabbed handwriting. "Darkness = light... ? rel. to F.D. legend... check records #324-332... many worlds? Time." Something nagged in the back of his mind... this meant something, but he couldn't think what... It all sounded so familiar.
Darris turned round. "What do you think, lad? All my own work..."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm a historian, lad. It's my job to decipher these old records." He sighed. "Sometimes, that's easier said than done... this latest one's been giving me a lot of trouble..."
Link had an idea. If this man spent his life studying old languages, perhaps... "Excuse me? Could you have a look at something for me?" Quietly, he pulled out the sword. "Do you know what this reads?"
The older man jerked back in mild surprise, before looking at the runes inscribed in the metal. "Hmmm... It looks like High Ikanian, but there's strange differences... probably a dialect... Shouldn't be a problem to decode it, though. If I could have a closer look?"
Link thought for a second, before passing it over. As Darris reached for the hilt, he leapt back as if stung. "Yeowch! It bit me! What happened? Is it magic?"
"...I don't know. It might be." Something occurred to him. "I don't think anyone else can use it. It doesn't know you only want to look." The Master Sword, all over again...
"Weelllll... Tell you what, lad, you stay here, and we'll work it out together. Sound fair enough?"
"Okay." In some ways, he felt a bit more comfortable, knowing that the sword wouldn't be out of his sight. He wouldn't have admitted it, even to himself, but he felt a strange connection with the blade. The Master Sword had felt like an old friend as he fought, but this weapon... felt more like a part of himself.
Exactly the same as how the powerful helix-bladed sword had felt, those past ten years.

The papers were moved away, and the sword was laid down on the table. As Link watched, Darris pored over the inscription, an expression of total concentration on his face. He hummed quietly to himself. Occasionally, he would flip a page in a book, or scribble something down. As he grew closer to the end, his expression tightened into a frown. He muttered under his breath. "No. That's got to be... no, it is. Doesn't make sense... ah, I've got it." Darris whistled, quietly. "Well, there's a thing."
"What is it?"
"I've translated it twice, and it seems to come out one of two ways. Both opposites. Either, 'from darkness comes the light of courage' or 'from light comes the power of darkness...' You know, I've read both those quotes before... " He glanced up. "What is it? Is something wrong?"
Link looked sick. "... No. It's nothing." Come on, he couldn't know! The inscriptions seemed to mock him. Darkness and light, courage and power... "Thanks. I'll... I'd better be on my way." He picked up the sword, and - a little too quickly - headed for the door. "Thanks again..."
"You know, lad, you're always welcome here. My daughter's about your age. Perhaps you two'd like to meet up sometime? It'll do you good to have a friend here, if you're new in town."
"Okay..." A pause. "See you..."

-

Link headed back to the Stock Pot, his head spinning. It was getting dark outside, and he looked up at the sky. Total darkness, the Terminian moonless night. Only a faint arch through the sky indicated where the grinning globe had once been... He walked up the stairs of the Stock Pot inn, and shoved open the door of his room. It had definitely changed since he'd stayed there ten years ago, but a chest still sat in the corner. He looked at it for a second, before flipping open the lid. He hauled the heavy gauntlets off his arms and threw them into the box. So long, Fierce Link... he thought. The rest of his armour followed suit, before he slammed the lid shut.
The events of the day had definitely taken a toll on him. His Fierce person had had very little need of sleep - but he was no longer that dark warrior. And as he was, fatigue crept over his body. After all, he hadn't slept and had barely eaten for two days. Link pulled his green cap from his had and threw it on top of the chest. He ran his fingers through his long golden hair and fell backwards onto the bed still virtually fully dressed. His eyes closed, and he tried to relax.
If that was possible.

It soon turned out it wasn't. Link stared at the ceiling above his bed, physically weary but unable to sleep. Images flickered through his mind, a deity's dream but a hero's nightmare. It wasn't me, he told himself, repeating the same tired line. That wasn't...
A more sinister voice in the back of his mind whispered - and you really believe that, Lord Oni?

He bolted upright, shuddering, almost sobbing. The activities of the day had distracted him from the all too recent past - but here and now, he only had his thoughts and his memories. Two sets of them. Yet in the darkness, only one seemed to matter. Kaelon's childish life, happy and innocent, was drowning under the Fierce Deity's acts of war. Eventually, he could take no more. Frustrated, he began to hammer at the wall, as a little boy denied the chance to grow up wept inside for what he had done. Under his breath, thin and ragged words escaped. "It couldn't... it didn't... why, oh, why... how could I have been so..."

Sleep didn't seem to be an option any longer. Link got to his feet and yanked his hat back on. Perhaps what he needed, he decided, was a change of perspective. Yes, that would do it.
It was only when he was already out of the door of the inn that he realised he'd picked up his sword without realising. He silently cursed.

-

The streets of Clock Town were deserted, even though it was still early in the night. Link wandered on, almost oblivious to where he was walking. He had nowhere to go, any more. But in the silence of the darkness, one thing stood out.
A faint, absorbing music. He looked around, trying to find its source. Soon, it became clear it came from Latte's Bar just across the road. Slowly, he smiled, as he recognised the tune as one he'd played under Mikau's guise - but flinched as he remebered how he had attacked the guitarist's parallel over nothing but a happy memory. He only hoped that Rega had managed to escape the fortress in one piece...

Sighing quietly, Link pushed open the milk bar's door and made his way across the dance floor. It felt so strange, all these people not paying any attention, when so recently they would have shuffled away in fear - but they shouldn't have to. He ordered a cheap bottle of milk, noticing a new list of drinks behind the bar but ignoring it. Part of him was still ten years old and far from ready for anything stronger - and the part of him that wasn't didn't think he deserved it. In a subdued mood, he took a quick sip from the bottle and settled back to let the music drown his pain. Something tickled at the back of his eyes as the band moved on to a soft ballad. He folded his arms and rested his head on the tabletop.

"Hey... wake up..." a soft voice whispered. A soft, familiar voice. Link rolled his head over and looked up.
"What's up, Zelda..." he muttered, before his mind caught up with his mouth. "Oh, sorry! You're not..." Why would Zelda be concerned about me, anyway? After I...?
"Not what?"
"Thought you were someone... someone I knew."
She shook her head. "Sorry, no. It's funny, but - have I seen you before?"
"Probably not," Link replied. "I'm from... another country. I haven't been here since I was a little kid." First time around.
"Oh? Where are you from, then?"
"You ever hear of a place called Hyrule?"
"Never."

The young queen's parallel turned aside and back to her own drink. "It's funny," she muttered. "You really, really remind me of someone, but - never mind." The music continued uninterrupted, and she tapped an increasingly depressed looking Link on the shoulder. "Something's up, isn't it."
"I'd be fine if you'd leave me alone," he grumbled.
"There's no need to get like that," she commented, offhand. "You look like you've been in a war or something." He almost flinched at the words. "Come on. Tell me. I can keep a secret, honest? What is it?"
He sighed. Perhaps he could trust her. "It's a long story."
"I like stories. Go on..."
Link gave a weak grin. There was no way out of it. A little uneasily, he began to speak. Slowly but surely, the details of his life began to emerge - beginning with his earliest meetings with the Deku Tree as a child, passing through his quests against Ganon and Majora, and eventually arriving at the present day.
But not all the details. He was not ready to admit the truth to a stranger. Skirting the edge of the facts, he gave the impression that he had moved from the forest to the ranch by choice; that there had never been an Oni or a Kaelon, only the one Link, who had grown up the usual way and eventually taken employment as a soldier at Hyrule Castle; that he had found his way to Termina after escaping the Gerudo prison, not to escape his past. The cruel truth hidden behind a mask of lies, he could only hope for a little peace - even if it was a deception.
Eventually, he finished, and let out a long breath. "So, that's it. That's me, Link. What about you, then?"
She blinked. "What about..."
"I've told you everything - you going to say anything about yourself?"
"Oh. That. It's not as interesting as your story, though. My name's Alena. I used to live up north, Snowhead way, but we moved down here about eight years back."
"'We'?"
"Me and my father. He's a historian..."
Link gave Alena a look. "His name - is it Darris, by any chance?"
"Yes. You know him, then?"
"Not really. Just met him earlier."
"Ah."
For a while, the conversation dried up. The music played on, trying to fill the silence, but not really succeeding.
"So... Link?... I'm off. See you around? Sometime?"
He blinked. "Oh. Sure." Strangely quietly, Alena left. Link watched on.

At least I've got one friend here, he thought. But... if she knew the truth, knew the real me... would she still...
But she's not going to know.
Not now, anyway.
And as for the future - that's tomorrow.