Blood Moon: A Story Before the Calamity

Eight

Link's POV

     Of course. Of course I activated Mipha's Grace for the first time by rolling down a cliff after I accidently exploded my own bomb before throwing it far enough.

     I had stumbled upon a couple of my memories when travelling. I wasn't sure what I had expected myself to be like in these snapshots, but...

     Had that really been me once? Silent. Expressionless. A little bit haughty? This was not the person who would laugh for absolutely no reason other than watching a korok float serenely in mid-air, the person who would break a hundred shields surfing down 70 degree slopes while wearing absolutely nothing and a meat skewer between the teeth.

     But he was what Hyrule needed. What the Princess needed.

     Him. Not me.

     Fine. That's okay. Duty before heart, right? No matter what I had to do to myself, I would become him.

     It didn't matter anyway. It wasn't like there was anyone left that would remotely care.

     All of the memories that I had accessed featured Princess Zelda. While I was disappointed that these seemed to start at my age, and not anything beforehand, I was glad for this opportunity to get to know the Princess better. I had taken care to watch my memories in order, and... I was not expecting this image of the Princess.

     All that I had seen from my interactions with the King, the people who heard tales of her, from her herself, she was a heroic, courageous, flawless fighter, depending on me, placing her trust in me, perhaps she was once even fond of me. But the way she acted in these memories... Anyone could see that she hated me. 

     Why? I couldn't understand until I progressed further into my own story. She... She was jealous. She thought that I had everything I ever wanted, my skills a birthright, my suffering negligible. Was that true? I had certainly seemed so. When I watched my memories, I could only see into a tiny window of what happened. I felt nothing, I remembered nothing, other than what was being given to me. I couldn't tell if I had a happy life or not.

     I reported back to Impa about my progress, and she gave me something that I would treasure forever.

     My Champion's Tunic. I ran my hands over the light, smooth fabric, tracing the designs with an awestruck finger.

     It was made by Princess Zelda herself. In that moment, I cared nothing for the defense capabilities. This was proof that I was still worthy of something from my past.

     I needed to keep finding my memories. I needed to know everything about that person who had worn this sacred armor. 

(A/N: I don't want to write everything about every Divine Beast. There, I said it. I'm not sure if I even want to keep writing the Beast quest. It just feels... tedious. I don't want this BotW storyline to drag on for too long, and Mipha was the most important one to write so I wrote her in some detail, because she is the first, and also because to establish how unsure Link was of love. Zelda's waiting. So, yeah. Please let me know what you think!)

Zelda's POV

     Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong.

     I woke up one day and found that I couldn't summon. Not at all.

     Ganon was stirring, as though he had sensed the lack of opposing power. That day he had almost broken through the careful bonds that I had placed upon him for years and years.

     The fear that had risen to my throat, swallowing my lungs, replacing my bones, it was overpowering. 

     The next day I could summon again. But my power was starting to decline significantly. Sometimes it was agony to tear the light from my fingers.

     I didn't want him to rush, although I could hardly hold on at this point. I could see how difficult this was for him, slowly stealing bits and fragments from his past. Every time he regained a memory, he seemed... heavier, somehow. His eyes were losing that childish light of discovery, his light gait slowing down. His shoulders looked like the entire world was placed upon them, which I supposed was true.

     I would keep fighting. I would buy him as much time as he needed, to gather the shattered pieces of himself. Even if it destroyed me, I would give everything I had to offer.

     My chest heaved as I stood hunched, the monster splaying its jaws as it fought against me, raising my hand and bracing for the new wave of pain as the weakening light shot through my flesh.