if i die tomorrow - permanent hiatus

death

     Time melted into meaningless.

     It passed me by without leaving a mark as it rushed on, casting me aside, away from its relentless currents. I did not feel the seconds, minutes, hours, days trickle steadily away. I simply lay there, curled up in the bushes and out of sight, death slowly creeping closer, knowing that it had me cornered now.

     Tired. I was so tired.

     My normally impeccable senses were ensnared by infection and fever. It was like suddenly turning blind and deaf at the same time, leaving me lost and terrified. It hardly mattered. I could barely wrap my stiff fingers around a sword, much less charge fearlessly into battle.

     I wondered, then. 

     If Zelda was dead, then wouldn't the Triforce of Wisdom be lost to the falling sands of time?

     Then I told myself I was being stupid. Zelda wasn't dead. How could she be? A heartbeat and an eternity ago, she was laughing with me, smiling as bright as the summer sun, her eyes shining. 

     She was a fighter. She had fought through anything thrown in her direction. Nothing could ever defeat her.

     I curled tighter into myself, flaming with agony and yet, colder than ice.

     Through swimming vision I watched a stray flame flicker into the spiraling dark sky, feeding on a fallen tree, the fiery colours shifting and changing, twisting its shape, flecks of orange, glowing ash slowly settling onto the moist leaves on the earth.

     Taking strength from what once had been life, leaving behind nothing but charred destruction. 

     I lay my head on the soil, closing my eyes. A soft envelope of darkness embraced me, kissing my fevered skin, stealing my consciousness away from my tattered mind.

     "Wake up, Link."

     I opened my eyes into a vast expanse of nothingness, suspended in the air. Not a hint of light penetrated the solid wall of black wrapped around my eyes.

     "Wake up."

     I knew that voice, even though it was almost twisted beyond recognition. My heart jumped into my throat, even though I couldn't move a muscle.

     "The final Champion. You are our last beacon of hope."

     "Take the gift of life. And rise from the ashes."

     My eyes snapped open. My hands were clenched into fists on my flickering sword, the knuckles shining pearl white.

     Rise from the ashes.

     My hands shook. My cheeks were damp from tears.

     Rise.

     Slowly, my muscles burning up with sharp pain, I gathered what remained of my strength and uncurled. My wounds, barely sealing closed over time, were suddenly torn open again and wrapping the glowing chains of pain tighter around my body, and I buried my face in my chest, trying not to cry out.

     I took deep breaths, one at a time, my eyes screwed shut. I choked down the rising bile and focused my resolve.

     Biting my lip hard, I placed my trembling hands on the damp earth and slowly eased myself into a sitting position. My head spun with crippling nausea, hitting me in relentless waves.

     Help me, Hylia! I tasted the sharp tang of blood. The world was tilting sideways, so that though I was sitting, I had to fight for balance.

     Rise.

     Sobs tearing out of my body in dry, racking gasps, I pushed upwards with the remains of my strength, until I was on my feet, leaning heavily on a tree, panting for breath.

     The wall of agony slammed into my body all at once almost knocked me back down again. Tears streaming down my cheeks, I swallowed, my swollen throat walls rubbing roughly against each other, rough as sandpaper.

     A soft whimper escaped my bloody lips.

     I was shaking so hard I could barely move, even though the soft breeze swirling around me was warm. It was as though I had left behind something, some part of me that could think, could feel, could understand. It was as though I had lost my heart.

     I tried to sheathe my sword. My arm trembled with the strain. A surge of blood welled up in my mouth, bitter, metallic.

     The "final hope" of Hyrule.

     I wiped a shaky hand on my face, taking a deep breath. My lungs flared up, shrieking in protest. 

     One step. One step at a time.

     I couldn't think about them. I couldn't think about her.

     Just take a step. One step forwards.

     My breathing seized up, snagging in my closed windpipes.

     Why even fight? I was going to die anyway.

     Tears swarmed my eyes yet again and I blinked them back, furious with myself.

     I was going to die just like the Champions. Just like my Zelda.

     The Champions.

     With a surge of enraged strength I tore off the Champion's Tunic, it laying limply in my hands, caked with mud and blood and full of gashes in the intricately made cloth.

     Zelda had made this herself. Her warm hands had once moved over the fabric, stitching in the designs, holding it up to gaze critically at it.

     I balled it up and flung it away as far as I possibly could.

     I was no Champion. I didn't deserve this shirt, this title. I didn't deserve anything Zelda had ever given me.

     Champions were skilled. They were brave.

     I was neither.

     I watched the ball of tattered cloth roll lifelessly away, unraveling in the undergrowth and hanging there, just a sad pile of fabric, broken beyond repair and hopelessly warped from the proud tunic it once had been. 

     Like me.

     I turned away and hobbled my way across the field, pain shooting through my system with each step, almost welcoming any monsters that may have seen me, any Guardians still patrolling the area. If they killed me, maybe it would be easier. Maybe it would hurt less.

     Yet, I met not one opponent. Perhaps Calamity Ganon assumed I was dead and withdrew his forces to attack elsewhere. Well, close enough. I was dead, even though I was still breathing, my heart still beating.

     The Hylian tunic I had pulled on clumsily rustled as I walked unsteadily through the grass, the night deepening with every passing moment. I ignored every call of my body, its every need, water, food, medicine, healing. I pushed them all aside.

     Would death claim me swiftly? Or would it slowly steal me away, chip at me bit by bit until I was begging for release?

     Or would I survive to deal with the mangled person that I was, and the mangled Kingdom that I was to save, alone?

     I couldn't decide what I wanted anymore.

A/N: Okay, I am having problems with this story. I have no idea where in the world it's going to go. I don't even have a clear storyline planned out. Only little fragments, detached concepts.

Updates will be slower from hereon out, and the chapters shorter. I'm sorry, people. I just want to make sure that it's good enough to live up to my own expectations.

Well, peace out!