Weaving Fate- Escape

His feet pounded the dry earth and left puffs of hazy dust behind. The little protection his feet had against the parched ground, bereft of life, had been rendered useless hours ago. The black fabric had torn and now it dangled raggedly from the blonde's ankle. Legs sore and cramping, the escapee forced himself to keep moving forward, out of the barren clearing and into the forest. If he could make it to the trees, he could hide, he could rest, he would be free.

Freedom... Something Link had so easily taken for granted when he was younger; something he now desperately sought.

"Come back to us, sky child," a voice whispered hauntingly in his mind before hissing venomously like a slimy snake. "Sky child, come back."

There was no way Link would go back; not willingly at least.

"Sky child..."

Mouth arid, the blonde panted, his chest tightening with each breath. Water. He needed water.

"Turn back now, sky child, and I shall be lenient."

As if the owner of that voice was looking him dead in the eye, Link shivered, shaking his head.

"No..." he rasped out, vocal cords strained. Clutching the hilt of a very familiar weapon in his hand, Link pushed on, adrenaline pumping through his veins. His makeshift cloak, a plain black bed sheet, fluttered behind him. The hood, too, fluttered in the breeze he was stirring up and lightly smacked the sides of his sweaty face, sticking on occasion.

The barrier of rotting, dead trees ahead continued to get closer and closer. It wouldn't be much longer until the fallen hero would find himself in the twisted shadows of the woods, and after a two day journey, the Sealed Grounds.

Skillfully hopping (more like stumbling) over a greenish, fungus covered log, the blonde grinned weakly. He was actually going to make it!

Feet landing in a patch of thirsty brown grass, Link sobbed. His joyful tears gradually rolled down the curves of his overheated cheeks as he slowed and came to a halt behind the carcass of a giant, hollow tree. He had stolen himself back from the Demon Lord who deemed him nothing more than a pathetic slave. Finally he was free!

Back arched against decaying bark, the young man of twenty sank down to the ground. The sudden burst of energy drawn from his worst fear died away, leaving a very tired, yet mirthful, Link. Catching his breath, the blonde released his sword, and in a daze, watched as it clattered to the ground with a heavy thump. Eyes wet and glossy, he looked up into the reddish sky and admired it. It had been four long, dreadful, disastrous years since he had been able to peacefully gaze at the clouds. His previous, so-called masters, always keep thick crimson curtains drawn over the large windows, keeping wandering eyes out.

As his breathing grew less labored, and his heart rate dropped, Link licked his dry, cracking lips. He needed fluids, but it didn't look like he would find any water in his current location. All the trees in the rim of the forest were either dead or dying. The blonde would have to venture deeper into the woods until he came across healthy looking vegetation.

Sighing tiredly, Link reached for the Master Sword. His fingers curled around the hilt almost timidly. He didn't feel worthy of the finely crafted blade anymore; he lost to the Demon King when everyone was depending on him, when the goddess was depending on him, when Zelda was depending on him...

"Master..."

The blonde stiffened. He never wanted to hear that word again.

"Master Link..."

The hilt of his blade flashed a bright, blinding blue while chiming softly. Link watched in awe as a familiar figure emerged from the orange tinted jewel embedded in the cool purple metal of the hilt. The figure danced gracefully in the air, raw, heavenly energy trailing behind her feet. Eyes blank, she stared at her Master. He was much thinner and paler than she had remembered. She also noted his odd wardrobe. The amount of skin the tight, midnight black fabric exposed was alarming to Fi. She knew where and who Link had been with since she last saw him. She also knew his captors, or at least one in particular, had a rather unhealthy obsession with him. It took her almost no time to conclude what had happened to Link in her long absence.

"Master, I-"

"Fi..." Link interrupted, his expression vacant, eyes nearly empty. Fi, the spirit of the Master Sword, nodded.

"Master, I apologize for my inability to-"

"No," he cut her off again, voice brittle and ready to crack, "you have nothing to apologize for." Pointed toes hovering over the ground, Fi locked eyes with the blonde and deliberately shook her head.

"Master, I am fully responsible for the hardships you endured. I failed you-"

"Stop!" the blonde blurted hoarsely, holding back shameful tears, "I failed! Not you..."

Time seemed to move at a listless pace as the sword spirit and fallen warrior gazed at one another in silence. Link never broke eye contact with Fi, despite his trembling and the tears clouding his vision. Fi, on the other hand, numbly floated in place. She knew there was almost nothing she could do at the moment to help the blonde emotionally. If only the goddess had granted her the ability to be affectionate, to express herself, perhaps she would have been of more use.

In the distance, a twig snapped, the echo of the soft noise reaching Link's pointed ears in a matter of seconds. Snapping his head in the direction of the faint noise, the blonde carefully scanned the area, half expecting to find something, or someone searching from him, determined to escort him back to the Demise's castle in chains.

"Master, I highly suggest you immediately begin traveling northeast. I calculate that staying here much longer will result in your recapture," Fi stated in a robotic tone, her large blue eyes still cast at Link. Shaking violently, Link nodded. With both hands secured around the hilt of his blade, he plunged the powerful weapon into the parched ground and pulled himself up onto his aching feet.

"Fi..." Link murmured, shuffling forward. "I have a request... Please, don't call me... Master." He choked out the last word, looking down at his feet. There were just too many painful memories associated with that specific term.

"As you wish, Link." The spirit bowed before returning to her place within the Master Sword.

After taking a calming, deep breath, the blonde forced his legs, which felt heavy and more like lead weights, to move. He desperately hoped Fi was leading him in the direction of a creek or river. He wouldn't be able to carry on much further without crisp, cool, wet water. Food he could do without for another day or so, but water... Pulling the hood of his cloak further over his head, Link steadily hobbled through the dying forest.

Up in the trees, a slim figure watched curiously as the chosen one clumsily stumbled into the thicket of lifeless trees and out of sight. He tilted his head to the side before smiling to himself. The blonde was headed straight for a camp full of his men, and not just any camp, but the largest camp of warriors he had. This was too perfect.