As the days turned into a blur of training and sleepless nights, Link found himself caught in a cycle he couldn't break. Each night, the Guardian would return in his dreams, its laser striking him down, and he would wake in a cold sweat, his screams echoing in the stillness. But during the day, he wore a mask of calm, standing beside Zelda as they guided the villagers through their training.
Despite his silent struggle, Link noticed the villagers were making progress. They practiced their stances, wielding wooden swords with newfound confidence, and even began sparring with one another. He watched them grow stronger, their laughter ringing out through the village, a sound that should have brought him joy but only deepened the ache in his chest. He felt distant from their happiness, an observer in a life that felt increasingly out of reach.
Zelda continued to encourage him, her voice a steady anchor amidst the chaos swirling in his mind. "You're doing great, Link. They look up to you," she would say after each training session. He appreciated her efforts, but he felt like a ghost, lingering at the edges of their lives, unable to connect.
As night fell, Link would lay in bed, the shadows creeping closer as his eyelids grew heavy. But instead of succumbing to sleep, he found himself staring at the ceiling, dreading the nightmares that awaited him. No matter how many times he tried to close his eyes, the fear would wrap around him like a vice, squeezing until he finally succumbed, drifting into a restless sleep.
The nights continued to be plagued by screams, and every time he awoke, he would find Zelda beside him, her hand on his shoulder, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and determination. "You're going to get through this," she would tell him, her voice soothing but laced with urgency. "You're stronger than you realize."
He wanted to believe her. He truly did. But in the darkness of night, as the nightmares clawed at him, doubt flooded his mind, drowning out her encouraging words.
One particularly restless night, as he drifted into slumber, the nightmare was more vivid than ever. The Guardian loomed over him, its mechanical eye glowing ominously as it locked onto him. He felt the heat of the laser before it fired, the searing pain coursing through his body. He screamed, the sound piercing the air, echoing through the darkness, but there was no one there to save him.
Suddenly, he jolted awake, his heart racing, the remnants of pain still fresh in his mind. He gasped for breath, the world around him slowly coming into focus. Zelda was there again, her expression a mix of concern and understanding.
"Link," she said softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead, "you were yelling again. What were you dreaming about?"
He met her gaze, wanting to confide in her, to share the fear that gripped him so tightly. But instead, he felt the words slip away like water through his fingers. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut and turned away, unable to confront the torment that plagued him.
"Just... just bad dreams," he managed to whisper, but it felt like a feeble excuse, even to himself.
Zelda's hand lingered on his shoulder, a comforting weight. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you," she said gently. "You don't have to go through this alone."
He longed to tell her everything—the panic, the pain, the memories that haunted him—but all he could do was nod silently. He hated feeling so trapped within himself, so disconnected from her, from the world around him.
As the dawn broke, the golden light spilling into the room, Link resolved to push through another day. The villagers needed him; they were relying on him to be strong. But inside, he felt like a fragile shell, and he wasn't sure how long he could keep up the facade.
