Successors

Epilogue: Legends Never Die

 *Three Months Later*

~~~~~

Op... ey...

Op... your eyes...

Open your eyes...

Wake up, Link...

His head throbbed. Who was that? She was calling, but thinking about her hurt. His eyes opened and, for some reason, swept to the odd glowing wall beside him. His newly found breath choked and his eyes began to burn. Who knows how long they'd been resting, but they already protested. Something surged through him and strengthened these. It was grief.

What, or who, was he grieving so instantly? Was it that woman? Who was she?

He should probably get up. He hit the floor. He got up again. He had to. This grief wasn't stopping. Underneath it, the captured expression of catastrophic failure. It surged and he had no reason why. But he had to stop it. To do so, he had to find that reason.

While he stumbled around, he found a pedestal in the otherwise empty room. It lit up, and he saw the massive mass of wires above where he once laid.

That is a Sheikah Slate. Take it. His attention was redirected. It will prove useful on your journey.

A familiar eye flashed in front of him. The grief surged. The light made him notice blood on the floor. He bolted out of the building in response. The view was huge. He felt small and hopeless.

He met an old man on the desolate plateau he'd glimpsed from that cliff. One who held him hostage for a little too long. Had he, Rhoam was the name and the former King of Hyrule he was, not already been dead, Link might have done the deed. Something within him resented this Rhoam person... the reasons why, however, refused to return.

She was named Zelda.

Zelda. The wind whispered in his ears. He realized they'd been saying her name all along. A goddess...

Something tugged on him. His goddess, his mind decided without any reason or memory. Flexing his scars for the first, second, third time was definitely uncomfortable, but he promised himself the pain was fading away.

The grass. He fell onto his hands and feet as his descent from this Great Plateau concluded.

Oh, how he suddenly became alive! These fibers under his palms, something was alight. His senses narrowed and, though it was unnatural for a Hylian's hips to be in perfect horizontal alignment with their shoulders, Link's did so without a flick of effort. He raced through the ruins that greeted his feral figure, growing stronger with every rock, grass blade and grain of sand that touched his scarred palms.

There was a lake! Before he processed the liquid, it covered his body.

Paddle.

Paddle paddle.

Paddle paddle-

Splish!

Link's nose was bobbing in and out of the water in a foolish manner. He saw a fish swim by.

It was bleeding underneath his teeth the second later. He retreated to the shore with this paddling that surely wasn't Hylian in the least to enjoy his snack.

His former self would have demanded he at least warm up the scaly supper before tearing in, but the first drops of blood that fell onto his tongue reminded him of an important truth: