The Old Man's Diary <[Read]/Don't Read>

The Old Man's Diary, First Page

A hundred years is a long time. Even for a mind like mine, driven and honed, there comes with death a tendency to forget oneself and wander aimlessly in thought or over the rolling hills. I have put a great deal of thought into preparing for the hero's return. Perhaps too much; I do admit that it would be simpler to offer him the information outright. From my daughter's writings, I discovered that Link was quite the little adventurer in life, much more teachable through actions than through words. My hope is that by challenging him on this isolated plateau, I could have some way of guiding him on the path my daughter set for him.

My daughter...

I do not believe that she will read this diary. I intend to secret it from Link, but if my daughter does search this cabin after I have moved on, I wish her to know that I did not suffer in my death. The Guardian caught me in its sights, and a single beam of light tore through my mortal body, so quickly it was as if I had only blinked. When I awoke in spirit form, my body had already begun to decay, lying empty at my feet.

I had no power when I first came back. I was invisible; my hands passed through those objects I tried to touch. When I tried to speak, my voice was only wind.

Hyrule Castle had fallen now. I walked the grounds, watching the weeds grow between the fingers of corpses, bodies of men and women who had pledged their lives to me. I imagined that their gaping mouths had screamed the names of loved ones; those whose jaws were shut had whispered a prayer for someone to save them, but, of course, no one could battle a guardian and live. I watched for many weeks as the flow of the guardians from their crimson pillars trickled down to stillness, and I watched the ruined walls crumble under their own weight. I watched as monsters emboldened by the lack of human presence chased fish into the docks unimpeded, gradually making their territory in the once-great halls of the castle. I watched the Calamitous beast swirling around the highest towers, bellowing in its infinite wrath.

My spirit grew stronger. I knew I was not bound to this place, but I could not bring myself to leave. I could feel Ganon's power like a thousands suns in my unprotected spirit. No doubt he had razed Hyrule Kingdom with a wildfire's fury. The Malice fog obscured my view of the destruction, leaving the ruin to my imagination. I was terrified to leave, to see the death that had befallen my people, and the ruin of my beloved homeland.

I can admit here freely that I am not a brave man.

But Zelda, my daughter, your courage knows no bounds.

She appeared at the castle gates at sundown, wearing the same dress she had left in. Her every step was labored, every inch of skin blistered and bruised. She was haggard, exhausted, stumbling, alone. The grime one her hands concealed the Triforce mark that shone from the back of her hand. She was alive. I didn't care about her power in that moment. She was alive.

The beasts sensed her presence. It turned to face her. Its awful, shapeless head turned to face her in a facsimile of a sneer. It did not fear her. It believed itself invincible

Zelda approached it calmly, her hands at her sides. She held no fear, no hesitation. She walked the long road without a glance toward the Guardians who blazed to life as she passed: at the command of her power, the red light in their eyes evaporated, and they lay still.

For one hundred years, I have wondered what my spirit would have been capable of at that moment. I have trained my second flesh to show itself, to speak, and to manipulate objects. But in the grip of isolation, I had never yet attempted to make myself known.

I wanted desperately to do so at that time, to speak to my dear Zelda, but what I would say evades me to this moment. I recalled what I had written on the day before my passing. I had said I would speak gently with her; how feeble that now seemed! Gentleness could not assuage the damage I had done, nor ease her spirit. There would be no apology sufficient. her power had awoken in spite of me, but because of me, she faced her destiny alone.