Fields of Gold

Slowly Fading Light

"You'll remember me..."

Words from days past were carried upon the evening breeze. The warmth of summer was sighing its final hazy breath before giving into the coolness of fall. The last glorious summer sunset filled the sky with a charade of pinks and oranges. Hyrule was bathed in a warm, golden glow.

"When the summer sun shines down on you and the wind blows warm and gentle..."

A lone stranger roamed down a dusty path through a field of soft yellow summer grass. The air gently beckoned the tall stalks to bend and sway, the field looking so much like an ocean of gold.

"You will be drawn to the golden field..."

Zelda stepped from the worn path and into the gentle waves of the yellow field. She wore a simple, homespun dress and soft, supple leather boots. The field before her was an endless sea of gold, broken by a small clearing where a tree, long forgotten and dead, had toppled over, leaving behind a small log upon which she sat. The log was ancient, covered in knobs and rotting bark, but for Zelda, it was a sad, familiar place.

"You will sense me there with you..."

She sighed deeply as she buried her face in her hands. Every summer for three summers, Zelda would dress as a commoner and walk to this field. Every summer for three summers, she promised herself that she would never come back. When the cold of winter had melted away and the storms of spring passed, she would find herself inexplicably drawn to the field. Each evening she would don her simple clothes and come to the field alone. Every night she would return to her castle, hating herself for being weak to the draw of the field. She would cry and fume, stand at the mirror and berate herself. Do not go back there, she would scold. Going back only makes it worse. You do not belong there. Forget what happened and let go of the past.

"You will come back to feel me there..."

Each morning she would wake up and tell herself to forsake the beckoning of the field. When the sun began to descend to the horizon, her determination would dissolve and she would return. She could not help herself. In her heart of hearts, Zelda knew that she would never be able to resist the field and the memories she held there. She knew that when the fall came and winds of winter blew away the golden stalks, she would try to forget. She would try to put it from her mind. There were times when she would forget, and the world would go back to the way it had been before the field. Yet as soon as the warmth of summer returned, so would she. It would be as though the winter never happened and all her resolve would melt away with the snow.

"You will want to remember how we felt...how I felt..."

Zelda closed her eyes and let herself drown in thoughts of the past. Three summers before, this field had been her whole world. The delight and happiness she had felt here were unlike any she had experienced, and she despaired to think that she never would find that joy again. It also sickened her to know that what happened here filled her with such bliss.

"You will never want to forget..."

The words of days passed had kept their promise. She could not stay away. She did not want to stay away. She did not ever want to forget. Though it pained her each moment to think of what took place in this field, she thrived on the memories.

"You will always come back..."

This field of gold was her secret haven, and her personal hell.

"You will want to remember..."

So she would return every night, every summer, every year. She would brave the pain and the shame to fall under the spell of the field.