Autumn in Akkala

Ch.37 Behind the Eyes No Longer Recognized

Rewriting History

!Link Akkala Ancient Tech Lab

Is this really the only way?

I can't help but hinge my hopes on a miracle that would prevent me from falling this hard from grace.

What I didn't expect was for that miracle to be a voice inside my head.

Here I am, hearing voices, and I haven't even put the bloody mask on yet.

I can't say the voice is particularly welcome, but I also can't deny that I cannot do this without him.

So then, Hero of Time, it's time to set the record straight and rectify the history that was stolen from you.

Let's work together and tell your story the way it was meant to be told.

In your own words.

If only for Y/N's sake.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Link wasn't sure why he was out of breath.

His lungs felt as if they weighed more than a Hinox. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees as he panted. The remnants of wildfire hanging in the air nipped at his nostrils.

"There's no time to rest."

Link jumped up in alarm, ripping his sword from its sheath in response to the phantom voice. He twirled around looking for the source of it, only to be met with miles of barren, decimated skyline.

"Not outside. Inside."

Link grabbed his head, and he fell to his knees. His fingers raked through his hair, disheveling it in panic. "Who goes there?" He called out.

"You know who, and I must say, I think Y/N handled this better than you do. You would think being of the same soul would be the opposite." Link heard the voice give him a smug laugh before continuing, "You should have convinced Zelda to let you play the Ocarina of Time; her strong feelings against it are only caused by her guilt from so long ago."

"Her guilt?" Link felt absolutely absurd, questioning the voice.

"Yes. From what she did to me. To you. To us... To Malon."

Link's eyes shot open when he heard the name Malon. He had heard Y/N say that name not too long ago, not understanding the significance of it. Images fluttered through Link's mind, projecting themselves in the form of snapshots and still frames.

A woman with brilliant auburn hair held a bucket and smiled at him beneath a glowering beam of sunlight. The sun was so abrasive, so garish, he thought the parched ears of corn and wheat might catch fire. But this girl was unconcerned. She just continued to look his way. Smiling. The bucket was filled to the brim with milk that dripped down its side as she teetered toward a barn with it.

Then a scene flashed before him of the same waif like Redhead, his head resting on the surprisingly plump meat of her thighs. She was massaging his scalp. And humming.

"AH!" Link's eyes were scrunched closed, as if shutting them would help him see the movie reel playing in his mind better.

As the voice spoke, Link paid special attention to its cadence. "You have no idea what you are in for with that mask. Don't let the execrable materials its built from mislead you. You have no idea what it's like to fight something possessed while you yourself are under possession, although I suppose you'll find out soon enough."