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“I could have been there.  Why wasn’t I there for her?  I could have saved her.”  The hero had no knowledge of how many times he had just repeated those words in a monotone voice, having no more tears left to shed.  The stone wall of the fountain that he was leaning on became real to him once more, and the reality of what Link might have done came more clearly to his mind.  “A fairy.  All I needed was a fairy.  I had one…I could have revived her…but I wasn’t there.  I wasn’t there when she needed me.”

Though he was no longer speaking out loud, the hero’s thoughts were fully clear now.  He, the hero, had not been there for Impaz when she needed him the most.  When he had arrived at the Hidden Village, when he had finally taken the time to care about her, the purest soul that Link had ever known had departed from this world.  This most selfless of women had had no one, no one at all with her in her final hour but a handful of cats, mere animals that she had expended her own energy to help keep alive!!

Gripping the edge of the fountain so tightly that the leather of his gloves could have torn, the hero’s mind was fixated on the critical lesson he had learned in that fateful moment.  Holding the lifeless remains of Impaz in his arms, Link had nearly dropped her when he realized more than ever that one did not have to be in the last years of life to have one’s life abruptly taken away.  Had a timid boy not gone from resting peacefully in a quiet village to hanging unconscious from a pole and being paraded around Hyrule Field by a heartless monster?!  Had an innocent young Zora not gone from being prince of his Domain to being rejected by a racist doctor, even as he labored just to breathe?!  Had many more innocent Zoras not gone from proudly guarding their royal family to being frozen solid in the very waters they had sworn to protect??  Had not one, but two princesses, rulers of entire realms, not gone from holding relics of untold power to fading into seeming nonexistence…

It truly did not matter that each of these was now alive and well; any one of them could easily have died.  In every case, whether directly or indirectly, Link had been responsible for saving them.  Had he not been the hero, had he failed, or even had he just been at the wrong place when he was needed, these precious lives would be no more.  Each time, the hero was ignorant of the threats to their lives until the instant he saw those threats with his own eyes.  In that moment, when the implication hit home, Link could not even let himself breathe: how many more lives could be in danger now, whether he (or they) knew it or not?  How many more could be here today and gone tomorrow??  How many lives would he, the hero, be responsible for if they perished because he had not been there for them in their time of need???

Discovering that he still did have tears, Link thought now to his compulsive routine since that dreadful day.  Having seen first-hand the transience of life, knowing that each day could be somebody’s last, the hero had sworn by the three goddesses that he would stay in Hyrule Castle Town, where the greatest number of people lived, worked, and shopped each day and devote every last remnant of his energy to helping the townsfolk in whatever way he could, whenever he could.  It was true that Ganondorf had been vanquished and Zant was but a memory, but surely all could not suddenly be right with the world.  The destruction of people’s lives does not require hordes of enemies, the hero reasoned; dying a thousand deaths at the Mirror Chamber was enough to teach him that lesson.  As long as there was even one citizen of Hyrule dying on the inside or the outside, there was still a mission for the hero.  As everyone knew that the place in town for swordsmen was the bar, that was where Link decided he would stay most often.  The hero recalled explaining his newfound mission to Telma; she immediately responded that he certainly did not need her permission to stay there.  In fact, she had said, he could even sleep there at night if he was really that committed to helping everyone in town.

Every day, the hero would go out of his way to strike up a conversation with the customers at the bar, attempting to ascertain their concerns in life.  Link would always assertively offer whatever assistance he could give, but invariably the reaction would be the same; the sad-faced patron would hesitatingly stutter his quiet decline.  In the rare times that grilling someone for an explanation actually succeeded, the reason would always be, “It’s too personal of a problem,” or “I’m sorry, but you’re just not the right kind of person for this.”

As though such rejection had not been painful enough for the hero, the relative success of another regular patron was adding insult to injury.  Having satisfied his passion for completing his father’s research, the bright, courteous Shad commonly made use of his old place at the table at the back of the bar for offering his counsel to those who came to drown their sorrows in despair.  In a short time, patrons were going to Telma’s Bar just to seek out his advice.  Every so often, the hero would see someone familiar returning to the bar to give Shad his sincere gratitude for his earlier suggestions, something that the young scholar clearly could not help but treasure.

How could it have been that the very opportunity that Link had been searching for was being taken away right from under him?!  It would have been incredibly easy to burn with jealousy toward his former ally, but the hero would always force himself to try to think about the fact that someone’s life had been changed for the better.  That change was the goal, after all, not that Link be the one to bring it about.  …At least, that was what the hero would tell himself, but he honestly could not make himself feel more than the slightest bit satisfied at having another person accomplish what should have been his own tasks.  Shad seemed to already be successfully helping everyone that needed that kind of help; that made the former “hero” seem all the more to serve no present purpose.

Thinking that there must be some technique, some method that he was ignorant of or merely was overlooking, Link had decided to speak with the cultured urbanite personally.  After a brief explanation of his search for meaning, Shad took a moment to ponder the hero’s new quest before beginning.  “You know, old boy, I must admit I’m a tad bit surprised at your particular choice of…charitable actions, let us say.  I really can’t say that I would have suggested this path for someone of your renown and experience.  All here in the city are fully aware of your exploits, and for that you are highly respected.  At the same time, the fact that you are specifically known as a man of the sword appears to cause others to strongly classify you likewise to the exclusion of any other talents you perceive yourself to possess.  I will admit that I myself have quite a bit of difficulty picturing someone like you assisting others in a manner that not only does not involve violence, but requires advanced interpersonal skills along with a detailed understanding of human nature.  With truly all due respect, the image I have of you is as a man of few words and… simple solutions.”

Although he had thanked Shad for his thoughts, the hero’s face ignited with anger and indignation the moment he had walked out the door.  The great hero of Hyrule had just been royally insulted; he knew exactly what Shad meant by “simple solutions!”  That elitist had just suggested that all Link was good for was swinging a sword and wielding a bow!!  Was that what Shad called “all due respect” for the hero chosen by the gods?!?

If the people of the town, the people that the hero had sacrificed everything for, thought of him as being nothing but a bloodthirsty warrior, if that was the kind of hero they wanted, then…then… so be it!!!   There was no way that Castle Town could be safe, the hero had thought; was it not Shad himself who once claimed that only those who lived in the city knew true fear?!  He would not have said that if the city had not been dangerous before Ganondorf took over!  Whatever danger still existed in Hyrule Castle Town, whatever caused this “true fear,” the hero would be there to deliver swift justice.

Day after day, night after night, hour after sleepless hour, the fearless swordsman had scoured the streets like the wolf he had been in search of any criminal lusting for the chance to prey on the innocent.  Patrolling every main road and every back alley, interrogating potential informants for knowledge of any suspicious activity, memorizing when and where the soldiers would be at any given time and never failing to guard passageways that they so irresponsibly overlooked: this was the hero’s new life and mission.  He could not let any would-be evildoer have even the chance to pull off a crime!  His steps became faster as the days went by, his head turned to see behind himself more often and his sword went unsheathed as he made his rounds through the city; every second could count and he refused to waste even one.  Vigilance was his nourishment, zeal was his drink!

Telma’s Bar could not be forgotten as a potential place for some heinous act, even if it meant using precious time to go down there.  Any time the swordsman would spend a minute to make certain that the tavern was secure, though, the all-too motherly proprietor would urge him to waste even more time by eating a meal, having a drink, or even (was she serious?!) taking a nap.  Telma’s useless chatter would give that blasted Shad just enough time to insist that there was no danger at all, either in the bar or in the town.  To think that they had once called themselves a “resistance!”  Were they blind?!  Could they not see that the townspeople were becoming steadily more anxious??  Were they ignorant of the fact that more and more people were telling the hero, often intensely, that he needed to go somewhere else?  …Surely that meant that there was a particular part of the city that they knew was dangerous!  They must not have been telling Link who he needed to apprehend or where he needed to go out of fear of being attacked by this unknown fiend personally!  It became clear that the protector of Hyrule needed to open his eyes more widely to recognize the foul deeds taking place in this town as being such rather than the mundane actions of the innocent…

Dusk had already fallen on Castle Town, back on that night Link would never forget.  Trudging down the east road from the central square, nearly staggering, the parched, starving, exhausted swordsman did not care in the slightest if the handful of citizens still up and about took notice to the bitter frustration his face displayed.  Where in Din’s name was this faceless criminal?!?  How could he be hiding so expertly that the hero’s endless search had kept coming up empty??  Running all day and night around town with nothing to show for it certainly had not brought any kind of meaning to Link, that much he knew!!  Had he repeatedly rejected the generosity of Telma, had he refused all sleep, all food, and virtually all water for over a week, had he been slowly dying in the prime of his life to accomplish absolutely nothing?!?

Shedding both tears of self-pity and self-hatred, Link was on the verge of ending this whole policeman charade when suddenly the doors of the doctor’s office flew open with Borville shouting, “ENOUGH!!!”  Cramming several glass bottles into the back of a horse-drawn wagon that Link had not even noticed in his sleep-deprived state, the crotchety old physician made no eye contact with the frail, elderly woman standing just inside the clinic as he yelled, “You are not wasting one moment more of my time!!  I should have just left HOURS ago!!”  Hoisting himself up into the wagon, the doctor’s sharp, hard nose pointed unflinchingly due south even as the sickly-looking woman struggled forward with her cane calling out, “Dr. Borville, please!  Please, sir, wait!”

The snap of Borville’s unfeeling reins as the wagon lurched forward brought the snap to attention the dazed hero had needed to realize what was happening before him.  Was a man whose occupation was dedicated to saving lives just leaving an elderly woman back at his clinic unattended, a woman who was so clearly in need of his help?!  The righteous indignation Link had felt seemed to bring him newfound energy; his instincts and sense of duty told him to give chase, and the experienced swordsman had learned long ago to trust them.  Yelling up to the wagon’s driver to stop, the hero could see no sign of recognition on the doctor’s part of either Link’s commands or the old woman’s pleas.  Picking up the pace, Link shouted louder at Borville to come back and help that woman.  His hideous face peering out around the wagon for just a second, the physician yelled at his old feeble horse to speed up as he gave two more snaps on the reins.

That accursed quack!!   A woman who looked like she was at death’s door was crying out for the man she called her doctor, and he was trying to get away from her at all costs?!?  Trying to get back to his comfortable dwelling place?!  Getting himself some undeserved shut-eye?!   This had to be the criminal that Link had been looking for, this cretin that masquerades as a public servant, this money-grubbing leech, this miserable wretch that does everything he does for himself!!!

Barreling down the stone-paved corridor, every pedestrian within twenty yards leapt to get out of the way of the infuriated hero.  Nearly panicking, there was nothing Borville could do to prevent his attacker from closing in on him.  With one great shout, the mighty swordsman brought his blade down onto the wagon wheel immediately before him, as that surely would bring the cart to a halt.  When the wagon kept rolling on, the indignant hero hacked off the rest of the wheels within seconds, slicing the horse free while chopping off the front wheels.  The skidding hunk of wood and canvas left from the fleeing beast of burden was like a meal to be devoured.  In an all-consuming frenzy, the warrior slashed at everything before him.  Every meal he had foregone sent a plank into splinters, every hour without sleep shredded fabric into rags, every meaningless moment shattered glass into a thousand shards.  The swordsman was not to be held back; there would be no rest until there was nothing left before him but sawdust and thread.  And blood.  Lots of blood.  Why was there no blood already?  The smell entering the slayer’s nostrils was not that of blood, but the bitter stench of medicine.  More slicing brought nothing more, and that stench was sickening the hero.  Link despised that smell, that smell of medicine he had once had to follow all the way down this same road.  …Wait…that smell?  …Medicine?

The stunned swordsman was brought out of his brief reverie by a bizarre, unnatural sound, like that of a dying animal.  Turning to his side, the warrior saw the crumpled, shivering mass of Borville lying in a fetal position, yet with hardly a scratch on him.  The rasping cries of incoherent words coming from the doctor’s bloodied mouth showed the swordsman that Borville had been hurt more badly than he originally thought, and though the whole point was to slay this coward, Link could not feel any malice at all toward him now.

“Wha…wha…why?”  The trembling physician could barely speak through his tearful cries.  “What…ARE you?  Why…would you…DO that??  WHY???”  Borville was now loudly sobbing with his eyes shut tight.  “Everything I had!!  My wagon, my horse…medicines!!!  I was supposed to be there…Ordon Village!!  Outbreak!  I couldn’t get there…CAN’T get there!!!  No medicines!!  MY medicines only ones!  Needed ME!!!”

Tears came to Link’s eyes as he recoiled in horror at the doctor’s words.  Could Borville really be saying that??  Did he really mean that there was some kind of disease ravaging Link’s own village in his absence, and that this doctor was summoned to treat it??  Had the hero just stopped the one person who could heal his people???  That could not be…that was impossible!!  Link continued to try desperately to convince himself that he could not have done anything to endanger his own friends and neighbors when another voice rang out over the physician’s weeping.

“You…horrible…BEAST!!”  The swordsman turned his head in puzzlement to see that the elderly woman that Borville had tried to escape from had caught up with the two of them.  “How could you…DO that to this man??  This man…spent so much time on me…gave in to my pleas to stay with me when he kept telling me he needed to leave…He may have saved my life!!  Do you try to kill him for that?!?”

Link’s eyes could dart around from one onlooker’s face frozen with shock to another, but his mouth could not form a single word no matter how hard it tried.  The pitiful doctor had only a bit more success when he called out to the woman.  “Wh-why did you send him after me??  I did…everything I could think of for you…You knew I needed to go to that village…!”

“I didn’t send this thug after you!!  He just ran after your wagon when I asked you to wait a second!  You did so much for me…I just didn’t want you to leave before I gave you your money…!  That was all!!  I wish I hadn’t said anything now!!”

Every tear the kindly old woman cried while kneeling by the pathetic doctor felt like a knife in the hero’s chest.  The smell of the medicine that could have healed his dearest friends was now quite unnecessary for overturning the hero’s painfully empty stomach; it was being tied in knots all over again in the guilt that was rising each moment.

“Why are you still here?!”  The woman’s eyes pierced at Link’s soul even harder than her question.  “You’ve done everything you could do to this man!!  Demolished his wagon, sent his only horse away to who knows where, destroyed all his medicines for nothing, what next?!?  Burn his whole clinic to the ground???  Tear it down with that horrible sword?!   Just what are you going to do to him ?!?”

Throwing down a shower of Rupees, Link tore down the road, screaming past the onlookers who could not believe what they had witnessed.  Running out the south entrance and collapsing onto the cold stone past the bridge, his fear shook him uncontrollably.  He could not begin to comprehend what had just happened, his brain not allowing him to hold coherent thoughts.  Screaming?!  Sword-slashing?  Evil sword??  Borville’s wagon!  Ilia, Colin sick??  Colin dying?!  Talo, Malo, Rusl, Uli, Beth, Bo…??  Medicine?  Criminal…?  ME?!?

Being completely unable to handle this whirlwind of confusion, the swordsman could only follow his instincts and fall onto the stone below him to finally sleep, to sleep , what he had silently yearned for day after day, night after night, hour after hour, just to finally sleeeeep …