if i die tomorrow - permanent hiatus

bandage

Part 2: Time

Almost eighteen years ago, Hyrule Field.

     I stared up at the sky. The golden tint of young morning dusted the canvas of deep azure. 

     I was lying on a clearing, a scant forest at the edge of Hyrule Field engulfing this tiny, sun-lit meadow. The air was cool and clear. 

     Peace. Life. Once more, Hyrule was vibrant with colours.

     The first thing I noticed was how hazy the world was, almost half-formed. The lines of the trees towering over me were blurry. The grass swaying by my face faded in and out of shape. Reality was insubstantial. 

     So there were limits to the Ocarina's power. I had, perhaps, pushed it slightly too far.

     Either way. I was only here for the truth, to find myself before I could bet everything I had on Hyrule's surival. Right now, I had nothing to bet.

     Slowly I drew out the crumpled sky-blue tunic, the fake Champion's tunic. I ran my fingers over the long slash in its fabric.

     Tearing it was hard work. The rips of the cloth was punctuated by gasps of pain as I dragged my broken arm over the tunic. Carefully I wrapped my makeshift bandage over my swollen, bruised arm, covering up the ugly map of pooling blood. I bound my fingers as well, leaving the top open for touch. 

     The sun was over my head as I finally finished tying the final knot. It was messier than my usual work, but it would have to do. I let go of the cloth between my teeth and let my ruined arm hang at my side. A few loose shreds of bandage flapped lazily in the breeze.

     Almost indifferently I rose my left hand to my chest. The cut was long, but thankfully not deep. If I were to move around too much and too sharply, the tentative closing of the gash would rip open again. 

     So Sorrah had only been warning me when she sliced me with whatever power she had used. She had not intended to hurt me enough to incapitate me. The panic of the moment had blinded me to that fact. 

     A surge of bitter shame rose within me, and I welcomed it. A brushstroke of rust red coated my fingers as I traced down the cut. 

     I couldn't put it off any longer. I knew.

     Slowly I drew out the knife at my belt. It glinted as it caught the light.

     It was ice cold. And clean. It was clean. 

     Eighteen years in the future, it would be dripping with blood, the crimson slowly tracing down a crumpled body, still warm with life. Or would it? Would it, now that it was in my possession?

     I hadn't realized how tightly I was clenching the knife. My knuckles glowed pearl white.

     One by one I pried my stiff fingers away from the hilt of the knife. The imprint of the leather wrappings were burnt into my palms.

     I felt a strong urge to fling the knife as far away from me as possibly and run in the opposite direction.

     My windpipes closed.

     The world was shouded in fog, sliding into focus, then out again, swimming through my wavering vision. I felt dizzy, disorientated, thrown off balance. Heat gathered up behind my eyes, a tide born of anger and grief and lostness. Lost. How much more could I lose? 

     I breathed in sharply. A sharp jolt of pain flashed through my arm as I unfolded my right fist. It throbbed in time with my racing pulse as the after effects of the sudden movement, the pressure, rippled through my flesh.

     I couldn't waste more time here. I sheathed the knife -- my knife -- and stood up. 

     Should I question how it had found its way to my belt? 

     I looked down at it. 

     A perfect weapon. Long reach for a knife, sharp enough to kill. Light enough to be manipulated by my weaker hand, agile as it sliced through the air. 

     I unsheathed it again and gave it a spin between my fingers. The blur of silver whirled like a mini tornado, much smaller in size but no less lethal, savage in its bloodlust. 

     If I were to use this weapon, the weapon that had taken Sadie, could I somehow tame it? To use it to spill blood for peace, rather than war? Could I truly make it mine?

     Did it matter? It was mine now. I would bend it to my will. 

     Then I realized that perhaps, in a sick way, I was trying to seek revenge. 

     Against whom? For whom? Faces and names and voices blurred together, until it was just one big cloud of fear and rage and guilt rearing back to swallow me whole. 

     I gasped for air like a fish pulled out of water. Only the timeless grove of trees bore witness to my silent struggle, over and over again. 

     I wouldn't cry over Sadie. I could promise myself that much. No, I wouldn't cry over her. She deserved more than tears. She deserved justice. And she would never get it if I was here floudering, making a mess of myself. 

     Slowly, I pulled myself to full height. Before I made my way to the Castle, where I was inevitably going to head, I wanted to try something. 

     I breathed out, closing my eyes. The noise of the world fell to a steady hum right by my ears. 

     Twelve hours forward.

     I felt the slightest tug in my guts, as though something was jerking me along. When I opened my eyes, sunlight streaming into the clearing was replaced by the gentle shadow of early night. The chirp of birds had dimmed to a soft mumble. 

     I stared. A light breeze toyed with my hair.

     Twelve hours forward. Somewhere around 7 pm. Exactly as I asked. 

     So I could step out of the world for any amount of time, change nothing, do nothing, invisible and unconscious, and it would feel like no more than a few heartbeats to me. My fingers found the worn leather edges of my book, in my pouch. 

     It did make sense. I didn't belong in this world, this timeline. I was but a visitor. And visitors were free to leave anytime they desire.

     Somehow, instead of excitement at this newfound ability, all I felt was hollow.

     Immediately I promised myself I would never use this power unless absolutely necessary. Visitors had no responsibiliy. They had no business within a household that wasn't theirs. I was the exact opposite. The world was on my shoulders. I couldn't just walk out regularly. 

     I didn't know the side effects of this time travel, and I didn't want to risk too much. There. Much more reasonable. 

     That was enough. It was time to go.

     I scraped myself together and set off towards the shadow of Hyrule Castle on the horizon, its towers tickling the deepening sky. I did not look back at the little meadow, my sanctuary, my beginning. 

     I didn't know what I was walking towards. I didn't know what I would witness. I didn't know that there was no turning back. Not any more. 

A/N: And here we are at the second half. I know this chapter is shorter than my normal length, and quite slow in pacing, but I wanted to ease into the pacing of the second half instead of just diving in. I wanted to spend an entire chapter fully explaining Link's emotions, as well as a few facts that would be useful later. The knife. The bandages. The time-hop concept. All varying degrees of importance.

Hope y'alls enjoyed and see you soon! Great things await!