#midnaxlink

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Nintendo characters, locations, etc., mentioned here. This is written purely for entertainment.

             It used to be that, as night fell upon Hyrule, so too did an all-consuming sense of dread. As the last hint of sunlight clung to the horizon, every home, inn, and stable found even its most raucous conversations fading into silence, and every eye turned, unbidden, to the sky. For those travelers who misjudged the time it would take to find shelter, icy panic would set in – when the darkness settled, the Blood Moon might rise, and every beast and monster that had been driven away would return. There was no comfort in the night for those who lived under the shadow of the Calamity.

           No longer did the sunset threaten the land with a leering, crimson omen, however, and the clamor of the tavern didn’t so much as falter as the day ended. In a way, he thought, it was a warm testament to the sacrifices the champions had made; every toast, a tribute to their long, restless wait, and every laugh, an ode to their victory.

           “You can stop waiting,” a voice said. Link tore his gaze from the window and turned it onto the woman seated beside him. Zelda was watching him from over her mug, which she held with both hands, reveling in its warmth. Her eyes were gentle and full of empathy. She, too, had experienced the horrors of the Blood Moon, though neither in the same way as the other. For her, he knew, it was the seemingly endless struggle against the crescendo of Ganon’s power; for him, it was the return of monsters whose blood still dripped from his blade, moments after he had expended the last of his energy to overcome them. If anyone had a reason to fear the Blood Moon, it was the Princess and her Hero.

           “Link,” Zelda said, reaching over and placing her soft, slender hand on his strong, calloused one, “it’s not going to happen.”

           “I know. That isn’t what I’m worried about.”

Her eyebrows drew together, and her eyes darkened with concern. “What, then?”

           “It’s nothing – a dream I had, once.”

“Tell me,” she said.

           Link took a moment to gather his thoughts. In truth, what he had always told himself was a dream felt more like a memory, but then again, he had only just recovered his memories from a life led not long ago. This one, if it was a memory, felt like something he had seen through someone else’s eyes, but felt with his own heart and body.

           “Dusk. Twilight, I guess,” he said. “It’s never felt quite right to me.”

            Zelda set down her mug and leaned forward slightly, listening intently.

           He shrugged and took another swig of his ale. He was doing his best to finish the conversation quickly; the words felt wrong, somehow, like they weren’t meant to be spoken. “It’s silly, but I feel as though it means something… more. The twilight.” The word caused him to shudder. To his surprise, Zelda also jolted. They stared at one another for a long moment.

           “It’s odd, but I’ve always felt the same way,” she replied. “There’s a certain sadness that comes with the sunset, even before the Calamity. It’s always haunted me in a way that felt distant, like something long forgotten.”

           They lapsed into silence, both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Zelda picked her cider back up and sipped at it, and the tension broke. Link allowed himself to relax.

          “It’s silly, isn’t it? It must have been a dream you had, and I simply picked up on it. We were connected for quite some time during your journey,” Zelda said lightly. “It’s nothing, I’m sure. Anyway, I meant to tell you, I borrowed a book from Purah while we were in Hateno, and I –”

          Link nodded, but a strange sensation took his attention from the conversation at hand. It was familiar from all of his time spent surviving, alone, in the aftermath of the Calamity – the feeling of being watched. Slowly, he turned his head and scanned the tavern, but all the other patrons were engaged in one thing or another. His heart sank into his chest, and, against every premonition, looked back out the window.

          Something met his gaze from the shadows of the forest beyond the outskirts of the building; something vaguely beast-shaped, but it blended too well into the darkness to fully make out. The only thing he could see clearly were its eyes, and, with a sudden wave of icy realization, he recognized them –