Wild woke to the quiet sound of footsteps outside his door. His body felt heavy, every muscle aching, but the raw, overwhelming pain from his memories had softened. His eyes flickered open, only to be met with the soft light of the early morning sun filtering through the window.
For a moment, everything felt as it should—peaceful. But the memories, the pain, the weight of his past... it all hung like a storm cloud on the edge of his consciousness. His heart still thudded in his chest, the sharp sting of his death lingering at the corners of his mind.
"Link, you're awake?" Time's voice came from the door, soft yet full of warmth. He didn't wait for a response before stepping inside, his face full of concern. "How do you feel?"
Wild didn't answer immediately, his gaze shifting to the window, to the world outside. The village was quiet, the fields bathed in soft light as the day began anew. But the stillness was deceiving—beneath it lay the chaos he had endured.
"I'm... alright," Wild said, his voice hoarse, though his words didn't quite match the turmoil inside him. He wasn't alright—not by a long shot. The memories, the emotions—they were still there, waiting to break free again. He could feel the sting of loss, the ache in his chest that came with knowing Zelda was still out there, trapped in the past.
Time studied him for a moment before sitting at the edge of his bed. He didn't push for more. "You've been through a lot, Link. We're here for you. Always."
Wild gave a slow nod, his fingers tightening around the sheets. Time's words offered comfort, but they couldn't erase the weight of what had happened.
The door creaked open again, and Sky entered, his expression serious but soft. "We've been talking. We think it's time for you to go back to the Castle."
Wild's heart skipped. Hyrule Castle. The place where everything had ended. The place where Zelda was still waiting, where his father and sister had once lived... before the storm, before the Calamity had taken everything from him.
"I know it's hard," Sky continued, his voice steady. "But we can't wait forever. The sooner we go, the sooner you'll be able to face whatever it is that's keeping you from your memories."
Wild swallowed, his throat tightening. "I don't know if I can go back there..."
He had tried to forget. He had tried to bury those memories—especially the last moments with Zelda. She had held him in her arms as he had died, her tears staining his tunic. The feeling of dying had been too much. The reminder of his failure was a wound he wasn't sure he could face again.
But as the others waited, he knew there was no escaping it. He couldn't leave Zelda trapped in time, couldn't abandon the memory of her. He had to push forward, for her.
"I'll do it," he finally said, his voice quieter now. "I'll go."
The journey to Hyrule Castle was a long one, and the closer they got, the heavier Wild's heart became. The fields that once felt like home now seemed alien, the path they took feeling too narrow, too uncertain. The world felt like it was closing in on him.
"Do you remember much about it?" Warriors asked as they traveled, his gaze flicking to Wild, who remained silent for a long moment.
"Only... fragments," Wild replied, his voice rough. "I remember... my father. My sister. And... Zelda." He swallowed, looking away. The images of his family felt like a dream, a distant memory that didn't belong to him anymore. They were so far away, and yet so painfully close.
"Do you remember the Champions?" Four asked, his eyes studying Wild closely. "Mipha? Daruk? Urbosa? Revali?"
Wild hesitated, closing his eyes. The memories of the Champions were like echoes in the back of his mind. Faces and names that didn't quite feel real anymore.
"I remember their faces," Wild said quietly. "I... remember them fighting beside me. But the memories don't feel like they're mine anymore. They're too far away."
Sky nodded in understanding. "The memories will come back when they're ready."
But even Sky's words didn't comfort Wild. They were all so certain, so full of hope for him—but he didn't feel that way. The burden of the past was too heavy.
Finally, they reached the castle, standing tall and imposing in the distance, its walls dark and foreboding. As they neared the gates, Wild's heart began to race. He couldn't help but feel like he was walking toward something inevitable, something that had been waiting for him for 100 years.
It was different now. The castle had been standing here, untouched by time, while he had been lost in the past. The place where he had fallen was no longer just a ruin—it was a reminder of everything he had lost.
Inside the castle, Wild walked slowly, each step heavier than the last. The familiar halls seemed empty, too quiet. The memories—the voices, the laughter, the warmth of Zelda's presence—had been replaced by silence. It was a ghost town, a shadow of what it once was.
He stopped in front of the room where he had once been, where the battle had taken place. The crimson stains still lingered in his mind, though the room itself was pristine, untouched by time.
"This is where it happened," Wild murmured, his eyes fixed on the door. "This is where I fell."
The others stood behind him, offering silent support. They knew the weight of what he was feeling, even if they couldn't fully understand it.
Wild pushed the door open, stepping into the room, and there, standing in the far corner, was the Shiekah Slate, still glowing softly.
Wild reached for it, his hand trembling as he picked it up. The images—his father, his sister, the Champions, and Zelda—flashed before him, each picture slowly coming into sharper focus. But the one that caught his attention was a new image, one he had not seen before: a memory of him and Zelda, standing side by side, smiling at one another.
And for the first time since he had woken up from the Shrine of Resurrection, Wild felt the tightness in his chest loosen.
He wasn't alone. Not anymore. The memory of Zelda was with him, and it was time for him to fight, to remember who he was—the Hero of the Wild.
