Dream Vision
November 8, 2025 at 9:29 AM
He found himself in a different place; a mysterious room with a marble tile floor, which was adorned with a single red rug. The rug strung through the space like a scarlet road, threading in a straight line toward a pedestal.
The pedestal was made of ancient stone. A blacktop helmed the grey rock. Three hollows were carved into the top surface. Link saw inscriptions etched all over the altar. He saw her again as well.
Zelda stood before the pedestal. It was like the first day they met, with her back turned to Link, focused on what laid ahead.
Link wanted to speak, but couldn’t. He could only move, taking one simple step at a time.
“Link…”
Though the princess kept her back turned to Link, her voice called out as if she knew he was always there.
The sound of her was unmistakable. Zelda’s voice had that signature propriety and serenity.
“Can you hear me?” Zelda asked.
Link nodded and remained silent. He wanted to do so much–apologize, find her, protect her, protect Hyrule. Be her shield.
He wasn’t fast enough and felt there was nothing he could do to change the situation. For now, all he could do was listen.
“When you hold this ocarina in your hand,” said Zelda. “I will not be around anymore. I...wanted to wait for you.”
Zelda’s voice cracked. Link didn’t remember a brokenness in the Princess. She was steady, like an anchor in turbulent waters.
Her body even faltered as the words came out. Zelda bowed her head. This all happened for the slightest moment.
Then, perhaps because she knew someone was watching, she straightened herself up.
“I couldn’t delay any longer,” Zelda continued. “But I had to act to help you save the land, to succeed where I failed. At least I was able to do this.”
Zelda turned around. She held a blue ocarina in her hands. It matched the one Link owned, with the mouthpiece and carved in holes to make notes with.
Link realized that he held something in his hands as well. He looked down and there it was–an exact copy of what Zelda held–a blue ocarina, shining and pristine.
He looked back up at the Princess. Her eyes held an unbearable sadness. Even so, she lifted the ocarina, its mouthpiece inches away from her lips.
“At least I could leave you with this ocarina,” Zelda said. “And this melody.”
Zelda’s fingers tapped delicately over the toneholes. Every movement crafted a new combination of pitches.
The blue ocarina’s song came to life. So did the glow Link realized he never imagined. The music was magic, or power, or something else altogether.
It was not of this world. The song’s presence embodied the space surrounding him and Zelda. It overtook the dream realm and became it.
Link imagined a devout chorus echoing the song’s notes. Their voices would have matched the song’s power.
An essence within Link compelled him to remember the melody. It told him to hide it in his heart and never let go of it.
He lifted his own blue ocarina to his lips. His fingers dipped their tips into the toneholes as he blew into the windway.
Link closed his eyes. He savored the song, the secret that only he could know. The song wasn’t an idea. It was substance, it was life, it was power, and very real.
This wasn’t a simple vision. It was the last truth Link would ever hear from Zelda. When Link finished playing the song, Zelda remained before him.
Link felt bold enough to approach her at the pedestal. They looked at one another, exchanging no words. Link reached out with his palm facing Zelda.
Zelda mirrored his actions. Her hand pressed against his. The shared touch held itself in place.
Zelda’s other hand was somehow free. Her ocarina disappeared. She reached for the hand in which Link held his own instrument.
Link thought she wanted to take the ocarina, but instead she lifted the hand up while keeping the ocarina there. She pulled her other hand away and cupped it over the ocarina.
“Keep Hyrule safe,” Zelda said, her voice dwindling to a whisper.
Past the pedestal and over Zelda’s shoulder, Link noticed a set of steps. They led up to a wall with stone slab in its center. The slab had an image of a shining sun carved in it. Link looked at the slab’s borders and noticed that it was a door, an entrance of some sort.
“Play this melody in front of the altar in the Temple of Time,” said Zelda before she turned desperately to Link. “You must protect the Triforce.”
Link nodded solemnly. He failed to reach the castle in time, but Hyrule could still be saved.
The vision trembled. Link felt the marble tiles clatter beneath his feet.
Link looked around. The strange dream realm trembled as if it learned fear. Pieces of the structure crumbled, just missing Link and Zelda as the collapse began.
Zelda’s eyes widened. She past Link and the distance.
Her mouth parted all aghast. She desperately looked at Link once more and clasped her hands around his.
“Hurry.” Her voice rose as she said this one command. “Hurry, Link. Get up and run. Run as quickly as you can into Castletown and do not delay. They are returning. They know what you have. Run...run...RUN!!!!!!”
