Zelda stirred in her bed as the first light of dawn crept over the hills of Hateno Village. Blinking away the last traces of sleep, she stretched, expecting to find Link nearby, perhaps in the kitchen or preparing for the day. But when she turned, she noticed his bed was empty, the sheets untouched. A small pang of worry sparked in her chest—usually, if he was up early, she'd hear him moving around the house or see him by now.
She got up and dressed quickly, pulling on a cloak to guard against the chill of the morning. Stepping outside, she took a deep breath, hoping to see Link nearby. But the quiet paths of Hateno were empty, save for the first few villagers just beginning to stir.
"Link?" she called, glancing around, but only silence greeted her.
Deciding to search the village, Zelda stopped to speak with several villagers, all of whom shook their heads. No one had seen Link since the previous night. Some had seen him walking toward the hills, but none knew exactly where he had gone.
With her worry deepening, Zelda headed toward the edge of the village, hoping to find some clue of his whereabouts. As she climbed higher into the hills, she spotted a few signs—one of his arrows, half-buried in the dirt, and a faint trail of footprints. Her heart beat faster, sensing she was getting closer to understanding where he'd gone.
Finally, Zelda reached a clearing overlooking a quiet valley. She scanned the area, her eyes sweeping across the rugged landscape below. No matter where she looked, though, there was no sign of him.
The Runaway Heart (links view)
Link's legs carried him swiftly through the dense underbrush, but he didn't truly know where he was headed. Thoughts swirled chaotically in his mind like leaves caught in a storm. Shadows danced at the edges of his vision, whispering fears and doubts that made his heart race. He pushed himself harder, running without purpose, driven by a need to escape the overwhelming weight pressing down on him.
He stumbled through the trees, branches scratching at his arms and face. Each breath came in ragged gasps, a stark reminder of the confusion swirling in his head. Memories of battles fought, losses endured, and the burdens of heroism clawed at him relentlessly. A whirlwind of emotions engulfed him: guilt, fear, and anger—all blending into a potent mix that made it hard to think straight.
"Just keep moving," he muttered to himself, the words barely audible over the pounding of his heart. He could feel the heat rising, the sweat pouring down his brow, but he couldn't stop. If he stopped, he feared he would be swallowed whole by the darkness that loomed behind him.
For a fleeting moment, he thought of Zelda—the way her smile brought warmth to even the coldest days. But that thought was quickly drowned out by another: the weight of his failures, the pain he had caused her. He remembered her worried eyes, the concern etched on her face when he had fallen silent after their last battle. The burden he carried felt heavier than any sword he had wielded.
Link pushed forward, his feet pounding against the ground, desperate to outrun the feelings that threatened to consume him. His surroundings became a blur as he lost himself in the rhythm of his steps. The forest grew denser, shadows deepening, as if it conspired to conceal him from the light.
He didn't hear the rustle of leaves or the distant call of birds. All that existed was the sound of his breath, rapid and shallow, and the echo of his racing thoughts. He turned sharply, weaving between trees, until he stumbled into a clearing, falling to his knees, his body finally giving in to exhaustion.
But even as he rested, he felt the familiar grip of panic rise again, clawing at the edges of his mind. What was he doing? Why had he run away? He pressed his hands against his temples, trying to calm the storm inside, but it only seemed to grow stronger.
