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Link was tired. Though the sun had only just slipped beneath the horizon, an exhaustion held him from the tips of his fingers to the heels of his feet. It was not the mark of a long day, nor a busy one. This weakness had been a long time coming. Every day, a little more of his strength seemed to fade away.
He was standing on the short bridge in front of his home in Hateno Village. He’d taken to watching the sunset there, some weeks ago, and it was a nightly ritual to walk out to see it though his legs pained him. Then the cold would drive him back inside, back to the confines of his bed.
Not tonight, though. It was still cold, yes, but for some reason Link felt that it would do him good to go for a walk. Maybe a little more fresh air would breathe that old life into him. He missed the trees, the fireflies. He walked the rest of the bridge unsteadily, planks creaking only slightly beneath him.
It was hard to believe that it had been a year since the Calamity had been vanquished once and for all. One year, and already Hyrule was thriving. Hateno itself had seen at least a dozen new homes built, growing ever closer to the observatory on the hill.
Link followed the dirt path towards the village slowly, letting his feet take him where they wanted. His scars, the ones he’d received over a hundred years ago, ached with the weight of time. They hadn’t bothered him when he’d first awoken, but they were catching up.
He supposed he should feel grateful. If the fates had been any less kind, he would already be dead. The Shrine of Resurrection had managed to keep him together, to let the flame of his life burn a little longer. Had it not been for that ancient Sheikah technology and for the quick actions of Zelda—
Zelda. Link stopped in his tracks. His breath came in long, difficult waves. He hadn’t even entered the village proper and already his body was struggling. Zelda… he wished she were here right now. She didn’t visit much any more. For the first few months after Ganon’s demise they’d spent every moment together, fulfilling her dream of exploring Hyrule.
What had happened? Link stepped closer to a tall tree, upper branches whispering as they were touched by an early-night breeze. He placed his hand upon the trunk for support. The wounds, that was what happened. Even now, there was an ache in his bones. Their travels had been increasingly hampered by his growing weakness.
He’d tried to ignore it, tried to keep going despite the pain, but he couldn’t go on forever. During one riding trip, the pain of being in the saddle had caused him to black out and fall from his horse. That had been that, as far as Zelda was concerned. Their adventures would be put on hold.
Once his breathing settled, Link kept walking. As the night was still young, there were a few people milling about in the village. Most of them were younger, people saying goodbyes and goodnights to their friends by moonlight. In the distance, blue flames flickered in their torches. He remembered lighting them, what felt like so long ago.
When the aches had stopped his journeys, Link had taken to his home in Hateno, though he still ventured out into the village and countryside often. Everywhere he went there were smiling faces and words of gratitude, the people of Hyrule forever indebted to him.
And even though he couldn’t travel as he once had, he still enjoyed this. It was good to know that the world would recover. The Hyrule he’d known was gone, but here was a new Hyrule, its people made strong by turmoil. They had been given a second chance.
Even now, those who saw him waved. Some beckoned him over, eager to share words with the hero, but he declined with a friendly wave. He wasn’t going into the village tonight. He wanted to see the forest, to see the wild again. He turned on the dirt path leading west.
Besides, he knew what he would see in those faces now. Where once there had been admiration and gratitude, now everyone he met could only muster a weak smile with vacant eyes. They could see it. They could see how lean he’d become, how the shadows hung beneath his eyes. They could see the way he shivered even in the sun.
He’d seen it in Zelda’s eyes, too. When he’d first retired to Hateno, she was determined to find the cause of his weakness, to help him recover. She visited often, always bringing with her new ideas and elixirs from healers the world over. They talked at length of the future, of just what the world would become.
As the months dragged on and Link grew more tired, Zelda visited less often. She said it was because of her duties, that she had to oversee the reconstruction of the kingdom. The castle had to be repaired, trade routes re-established, entire maps redrawn. It was a very busy time for her, she said, smile trembling.
He knew the truth. She couldn’t bear to watch him die.
He passed beneath the village gate and breathed deeply. Here, he could see the tops of the trees growing beneath the hill, swaying as they were brushed by the wind. The moon was bright, and the stars were brilliant. Far off, he could see the Hateno Tower, still glowing. It was a lovely evening, the exact kind he’d missed so much from his bed. His bones ached, but it was worth it.
For a moment, he considered going back. At the very least, shouldn’t he have his Sword and Slate? He had on the blue tunic he loved so dearly—wasn’t it befitting him to have all three? But he wouldn’t go far. He wouldn’t be long. He kept walking.
On one of Zelda’s last visits—what was it, two months ago?—she had told him of a theory that she and some of the Sheikah had developed. The Shrine of Resurrection, it seemed, had brought Link back to his prime, but it could not stop death entirely. That, perhaps, he had just been given a little more time.
She herself was another story entirely. Protected by divine power, even a century had been nothing to her. But Link? He had survived by machine and ritual alone. It was another chance, but not another life.
“Exquisite, isn’t it?” Link turned his head to see the spectral form of Revali, the Champion of the Rito, sitting atop a tall rock. Whether it was his ghost, an apparition, or something else entirely, Link couldn’t tell. “I’m still not sure about your taste, but you certainly did pick a wonderful night, Link.”
And then he was gone. Link blinked, unsure if he’d really seen or heard anything at all. Hadn’t the Champions left after Ganon was defeated? What, then, had he seen? He pondered on it a moment longer, but the cold kept him from stopping long.
So here he’d been for the past few months, weakening every day. Even his ventures outside his home slowly wavered. First he found travelling into the country too tiring. Then the night air began to wrack him. Day by day, it seemed like the world was closing off. At last, he stopped going out entirely. He arranged food delivery with the village, and only stepped out to watch the sunset.
“You were strong where it counted, Link.” Here was Daruk, Champion of the Gorons. He was incorporeal, wraithlike in all but stature, standing at the lip of the hill. He was smiling broadly, supportive as he had always been. “A little weakness now doesn’t make you any less of a hero.”
He vanished. There were no wisps, no smoke, nothing to mark his exit. He was just there one moment and gone the next. Link wished he’d have stayed a little longer. He missed the sound of his old friend’s laughter.
He continued down the hill, begging his feet not to slip. Where once he had been the pinnacle of grace, now even a trek downhill was a risk. One wrong step and he would collapse. Nevertheless, he continued unsteadily, trusting in his feet.
Why had he walked out all this way? He wasn’t quite sure. It just felt right, being out here, away from the cloying walls of wood and clay. He loved his home, but it just felt natural being out here, with the earth beneath his feet and the wind at his back.
“You saved them all. The world owes you a debt that cannot be repaid.” Urbosa, Champion of the Gerudo, waited at the bottom of the hill. He could see the moonlight shimmering through her. She had that same expression she always had, the one of someone who has all the answers but isn’t telling. “They will always thank you, Link.”
And then she, too, disappeared. He had wanted to ask her what was going on, why they were appearing like this. Of course, knowing Urbosa, she would have had some cryptic answer ready for him. Link smiled weakly, thinking of time spent with her. Not much longer, now. Then… then he would go back.
Again, he wished Zelda were here. He wanted to share this with her, this night. The fireflies were out, drifting between the branches. An owl was hooting somewhere above. In the distance, he could hear water. His feet ached now, but at least he was off the hill. Now the path led between the trees.
He had done it, hadn’t he? He’d fulfilled his life’s purpose. He had defeated Ganon and restored peace to the land. Monsters no longer roamed the plains. Even the Yiga had disbanded. He had returned peace to the world. He had been the hero that everyone had needed, and perhaps he should be happy he’d at least been able to do that.
“It’s okay to be scared.” It was Mipha, the Zora Champion. Mipha, who had wanted to confess her love for Link but had never gotten the chance. Her smile was tender, even in a faded form. She stood at the treeline, where the moon cast the shadows long. “Everyone is a little afraid sometimes. You were so, so brave. Even now, even though you might be afraid, your courage will help you through.”
And the last Champion was gone. All that was left was the moonlight, and the trees, and the smell of the earth. This had been good, Link decided. He wasn’t sure why, but he knew it was good. His heart felt lighter, somehow. He was scared, yes, but everything would be alright. He was sure of it.
And the trees… now that he thought about it, had he ever explored this forest before? In all his travels, had he ever wandered these particular woods? He couldn’t remember. It looked so inviting, so full of mystery. How could he resist another walk in the wild, when his life had been marked by so many? He stepped off the path and felt his foot press down on the soft grass.
When Zelda would next come to visit him, finally working up the courage to look upon his face again, no one answered her knock at his door. She would enter, trembling all over, calling his name in hushed tones. She would find his Sword, his Slate, everything as he had left it, but all with a thin layer of dust.
And she would break down in tears, knowing in her heart that he was gone.
But now, Link was walking through the forest, raising his hand to brush it against the trunks of trees. Fireflies drifted away as he walked by, earthbound stars glowing so softly. All kinds of fungus and flora grew here among the roots—did Zelda know about all these types? Would she want to document them?—and everything was quiet.
He walked, all his aches forgotten. He walked, marvelling at the world. He walked, feeling at last at ease. He walked through the brush, into the night, into that mysterious and beautiful wild.