Chapter VII: The Memory Remains

Link followed Navi through the gate of the great Hylian city and to the well-kept gardens of the courtyard that sat before the ancient stone face of the Temple of Time. From the moment he walked up the front steps he became aware of a force emanating from inside, a sense of power so strong and deeply rooted in the beginning of the world that Link felt suddenly very small and helpless, like an ignorant fool presented before a wise and omniscient lord. It made his flesh creep in both familiar memory and heart-pounding newness, for here, he was certain, was the epicenter of his dreams, the source from whence came all his feelings of déjà vu. Within these walls lay the store of memories he was living that belonged to someone he had never known, a Hero who had never been.

On the other end of the vast room, standing upon a broad dais with two sentries at her side, was Princess Zelda. Upon seeing Link she smiled openly and radiantly, her blue eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “Link,” she said in a trembling voice. “It is so very good to see you again.”

The young man knelt before her dutifully and spoke, “Your Highness.”

“Please—there is no need to bow before me. Rise.” He did so obediently, and Navi flew to Zelda’s side. “Thank you for finding him, Navi,” she told the fairy. “I hope your quest was not a perilous one.”

“Perhaps a bit too much rain for my liking, your Highness, but nothing that I could not bear.”

The princess smiled at Navi’s reply, then gathered her skirts as she descended the steps to stand before Link. She took up one of his hands and held it in her own gloved ones, her face becoming taught with sorrow and her cheeks flushed pink with emotion. When she looked up into Link’s eyes, tears rolled down her face.

“Why do I remember you,” he asked softly, “when I have never met you?”

“Oh, Link,” she said slowly, “words cannot describe the regret I feel for robbing you of your memory. I often wonder what would have happened had I allowed you to return to your home with remembrance as a souvenir of your journey. But I could not bear taking the chance of it destroying your life forever. You were only a child . . . I could not send you back with the nightmares and horrors to haunt you your entire life. The best I could do was hope that in time you would be able to forget it, and live your life as normally and peaceably as you could. I am sorry, Link. If I have ever caused you hurt or pain because of this, my apologies will go with you until the end of time.”

“I would forgive you,” he said, “if I was aware of what you have robbed from me.”

Zelda took Link by the hand and led him up the dais and into a room beyond, dark but for a single broad shaft of light shining down from the stained glass windows. The rays poured onto a platform where a pedestal stood, the blade of a great and shining sword buried deep within it.

Link’s heart pounded fiercely upon seeing it, and he knew without having to be told: “You hid my memories in this sword,” he uttered, and the princess nodded.

“When you draw the Master Sword you will again become the Hero of Time,” she said. “And so long as you bear that blade, you shall be endowed with all the memories you acquired during the course of your seven year quest. But Link,” she added gently, “there is a reason why I have had to interrupt your life once more, and ask you to become a Hero that deep down inside, you always were.”

“When Ganondorf was defeated and his reign of terror ended, the Seven Sages assumed that every evil created by the Gerudo King’s hand was destroyed. Therefore, when the clock was turned back seven years to the beginning of his rule, it would be as if he never existed at all, and time would line up perfectly for the next seven years, much like tearing stitches out of two pieces of cloth and re-sewing them together again. Once time had aligned with the date of Ganondorf’s defeat at your hands, all would be stitched together and done with, and the Sages could cease worrying.”

“What did they have to worry about?” Link asked hesitantly.

Zelda lowered her head, as if already regretting the words she would next say. “The plan to reverse time was not our first option; it was our last resort. For although it would give Hyrule’s people a chance to relive their lives the way they should have been, the smallest inconsistency would have the power to create a knot in the thread that was sewing the fabric of time back together. Thus it was necessary to not only remove your memories, but the memories of all those who had come into contact with you. Sadly, the Sages did not have the power to store the memories of all those people like we did with yours; they had to be erased, permanently. We simply could not take the chance.

“It seemed like a good idea at first. None of us expected that the smallest piece of Ganondorf’s evil remained.”

Link gazed out at the sword across the way. “But it did. And that is why you have called me back. To defeat the evil that was left behind.”

Zelda nodded reluctantly. “For the first few years all was going well. Sage Rauru has kept a charted timeline of your quest to be certain that it is lining up correctly with the time that is passing now. And then, sometime just before you defeated Morpha at the Water Temple, time stopped syncopating. We cannot define what it was exactly that went wrong, but the Sages have sensed it, particularly Rauru and Impa, the Sages of Light and Shadow, respectively. Though the deviation cannot be seen, it will soon be felt by all, for if time has not aligned itself at the moment of Ganondorf’s defeat . . . it is feared that the fabric of time will be ripped, and all the evil that was put away will flow back into this world tenfold, and the world and all in it will be destroyed.”

Link struggled to find words, his mouth dry and his heart in his throat. “You’ve . . . So, so when did . . . How long ago was this problem spotted? When did it happen?”

“Just a few days ago,” said Zelda. “We had no idea where to begin, so we called Navi and asked her to help us find you.”

“But . . . but Navi remembers me. Why is that?”

“I’m an immortal creature, Link,” said the fairy as she drifted down from above. “Time has no meaning to me, thus it cannot be given or taken away from me like a mortal’s. When time was reversed at the end of your quest, it changed nothing for me since I will always stay the same. So I, along with all creatures of this grace, have held memory of you.”

“Alas,” murmured the princess, “a memory remains that should have been locked away within that sword. It has evaded our powers by some device, and if it is not destroyed soon, it will destroy us.” She turned to gaze at Link imploringly. “I have no right to ask you to take up the Master Sword again, not after you’ve already risked your life to save this kingdom once before, and to whom we are still indebted. But we have no one else to turn to save for you, Link.” She nodded toward the sword in the pedestal. “Your memories await you, and it is our hope that through them you will recall the memory that was left behind, and vanquish it before time runs out and the earth is thrown into darkness. Hyrule knows no other with the courage and strength such as you.

“And so I must ask you, Link, Hero of Time, will you fight for Hyrule once more?”

The young man was silent, staring out at the sword, before turning to Princess Zelda and placing his hand over his heart. “I will, your Highness,” he stated firmly, “for as long as I am alive, and for as long as there is goodness on this earth worth fighting for.” And then he bowed.

Tears welled in Zelda’s eyes, and she darted forth to embrace him. “Thank you, Link,” she whispered softly.

He gently pulled away and gazed at her resolutely, then turned and ascended the steps to the platform with certainty and determination in his gait. Entering the stream of light, he stood before the pedestal and grasped the hilt of the Master Sword in both hands. His fingers flexed on the worn leather, already remembering. He exhaled heavily and turned his face up toward the stained glass windows far above, staring directly into the light, fighting all the fear and uncertainty threatening to engulf his heart with a caliber of courage he never knew he possessed.

If I am indeed this Hero, I will not fear; for all that is meant to be shall be, and Time cannot count the beats of this heart.

And with these final thoughts, he planted his boots firmly and, with a short intake of breath, drew the Master Sword from the pedestal, brandishing its gleaming blade high above his head.