dreamcrystals | 002 ⚘ dream recording

Entry tags:

002 ⚘ dream recording

Sender: Link
To: everyone
Subject: passive dream recording
Warnings: death

You are running through a forest as rain pounds against your face. You move quickly and clumsily, as if your life depends upon it...because it does. Because the evil you fought to keep at bay has now been unleashed, and now your home, your whole world, is falling to ruin, crumbling around your shoulders with every footfall. And clutched in your hand is the one thing you have left to hold onto: the hand of your only living ally. It's small, and in the rain, her fingers slip from yours. For just a moment, you want to cry out, no, not her, too--

But then you turn, and you see her, crumpled on the ground in a tattered gown, hunched, devastated, dirty, but still there. You exhale. Her shoulders heave with sobs held for too long, before the dam finally breaks and it all comes crashing down around her.

All my friends, the entire kingdom...I've left them all to die.

Memories flood your mind, crashing over you like a wave. A Zora with kind eyes and a gentle smile. A Rito warrior, watching you with disdain and judgment...and, perhaps, with thinly-veiled jealousy. A Goron who claps you on the back and calls you brother. A Gerudo leader with an approving glint in her eye. In this moment, you understand how true her words are: these four warriors, these Champions, your friends... they are all dead, and everything you've ever held off saying to them dies as well. Your heart shatters silently in your chest.

The girl looks at you, terrified, her eyes full of tears and despair. You are frozen, gripped by your own loss for words. Because for the first time in your young life, you are facing utter defeat, and it's as terrifying as it is devastating. Your friends are gone. Your family... with the Calamity upon you, if they're not dead, they soon will be. And you...you're scared. More scared than you've ever been, and it takes every ounce of restraint you have to bite back on saying so. Now, more than ever, you must be strong. You have always been the steady force, the constant, the pillar of support when everything begins to fall apart.

So you hold it all in. You hold the girl as she sobs. You let the rain drip down your cheeks.

...

Time becomes a blur. Now you run, not away from the destruction but toward it, spurred on by the hope of one last try, one hail mary attempt at fighting your failures. One last stand.

Guardians surround you, climbing over the carcasses of other fallen machines, machines you destroyed, each towering above with a piercing red glow in its eyes. These constructs used to be your allies. They used to be a line of defense, and now... (you feel an ache down to your very soul, you feel strength and blood draining from fresh wounds) ... well. Now they will very likely be your death. But you swore an oath to protect this girl, and you have stood with her for every challenge, every battle, every heartbreaking failure. You will certainly not stop now.

If you believe in nothing else, you believe that this is worth it. She is worth it.

For the first time, the Master Sword feels heavy in your hand, humming with a force that feels almost like concern. There is a dark blur at the edges of your vision that inches closer, closing in on your consciousness, hovering like a threat. You hold on. The guardians train their targets on you, and you force the bitter sting of failure and terror down to some small corner of your heart where it can't trouble you. Have you ever before been this afraid? Until this moment, have you ever known true fear? You've battled a thousand enemies, but have you ever looked death in the face like this?

Run, she says. Save yourself! Go! But you do not. You would never, could never, do such a thing. Not to anyone. Especially not to her.

You hold on. Because she is that important, because you made a vow, because you can't bear to see another friend fall--

A golden light flashes across your vision. For one instant, you feel warm and safe, as if you were never hurt at all. As if the Goddess herself has blessed you with a second wind. Then the light abates; she is standing there, strong and triumphant, as the guardians fall at her feet. She did it. She has done it. You knew she could, you knew her strength would show itself in the end, and--

... And here it is. The final moment. You exhale, and you feel the change, as sudden as blowing out a candle. Your lungs can no longer take in breath. Your sword is too heavy to hold. Your legs no longer have strength to stand. Your vision fades, and you fall.

No! Link! Get up!

Her voice is distant and muffled, and it falls away as soon as you close your eyes. There, in the still, cold darkness of death, the dream ends.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[There was some kind of pull that made Beat decide to watch the dream as the crystal lit, especially seeing that it was Link's. But after everything was said and done, a part of him wish he hadn't.

That was hard to watch. Beat understood the feeling of helplessness well, having had bouts of it himself, whenever he let his insecurities get the better of him. When he feels like all the work he's put in was for nothing. But what had transpired in the dream was not something he could compare to anything he had ever experienced before. It wouldn't be fair to his friend to do so.

But he knew one thing. If he were in Link's shoes, he wouldn't want to be alone. If he was wrong about that, then he'll deal with the consequences then.

Without so much as a second thought, he whips out his journal and immediately writes to Link.]

yo link where you at?

[His hands are shaking when he wakes. For a moment, just a fleeting second before he opens his eyes, he wonders if he's back in the Shrine, if everything that happened was just a dream. If he was meant to start all over again...but it's the ceiling of the treehouse, and the foreign sky outside, that greets him instead of Hyrule.

Link doesn't open the journal until he gets to the plaza, but when he does, when he sees Beat's handwriting, his shoulders slump, weighted down with some feeling it's hard to put into words: relief, or affection, or perhaps gratitude for his friendship. There, too, is a slight twinge of regret: he had been closer to Beat than he ever was able to be with the Champions, save perhaps for Mipha. If he had tried harder...how different might everything else have been? He takes a deep breath --his hands still shake, a little-- before writing back.]

The plaza. South side.

[It's a few minutes later when he finally pulls out his bow, looking for any way to calm himself down.]

hang tight
imma be right there

[The plaza wasn't too far from where Beat's own treehouse was and in a matter of minutes, he jogs into the south side to find Link tightly clenching his bow, an arrow drawn taut against the string. He approaches none-too-discreetly, and if he needed another sign that Link was there, the bright light that flies to the air from the stray shot would've done the trick and more.

Beat's gaze strays from Link's to watch the arrow, but only for the briefest of moments before turning back to look at his friend once more. Then, slowly, he raises his hand and offers a small smile.]

Yo. Gettin' some target practice in?

[It's clearly a joke as he tries to gauge exactly how Link seemed to be feeling right now.]

[Link does indeed "hang tight," so to speak, and when he hears the sound of Beat's voice, he nods in return. Target practice is a word for it, to be sure. He's missed far more than he's hit, but perhaps the real target, so to speak, was distracting himself. Recovering those memories had been difficult enough without the thought of reliving them in the form of dreams.

After his next draw, he allows the bowstring to go slack, mirroring the smile an attempt of his own that never quite reaches his eyes.]

Of a sort. Rough night?

[This, too, is a thin and half-hearted attempt at levity. He's still unable to shake off the discontent left behind by the dream, but he's trying.]

[Even in the faint evening light, Beat is able to catch the half-hearted expression on Link's face. Despite it, Beat's own doesn't falter.]

Yeah, could say that.

[With hands in his pockets, he makes his way closer toward Link. Once close enough, his eyes move over to see where he might've been firing his arrows.]

Got a friend who's havin' a bit of a bad time. Figured I better show up for him, you know? [It's only then when he sneaks a sideglance back at Link.]

[His eyes follow Beat's to the nearby rock, and to the area surrounding it, riddled with divots from the arrows. For a moment, he finds himself wrestling with the twin feelings of gratitude and guilt.]

Your friend is very lucky, then.

[That gratitude is evident in his voice, no matter what other feelings he struggles with. Right now, he feels decisively that he doesn't want to be on his own.

After a pause, he holds the bow out to Beat.]

Want to try it?

[Beat's only acknowledgement is a brief smirk that fades as quickly as it came. He won't bring up the dream just yet, letting Link dictate how things are going to go for now.

Seeing the bow being presented to him, he reaches out to it.]

Sure, why not?

[Holding it up, he pulls the string backward, closing one of his eyes as his tongue sticks out of his mouth. Beat's stance is awkward, but he does his best to mimic Link in the few times he's seen him wield it. He lets out a grunt in the effort he needs to put as he draws the string. Even without an arrow, he can feel some definite strain in his muscles, though it's nothing he can't handle.]

Yo, you make this look hella easy.

[Link is quiet, content for a moment to watch Beat work with the bow. He must have had the same struggle, once -- no one is born knowing how to draw a bow. But he's distressed to find his memories still vague, in that way. He is certain that someone once taught him that skill, that he once stood side-by-side with a presence that felt towering, awe-inspiring, that once upon a time he wanted to make someone proud...but there's still nothing solid to hold onto.

He attempts another faint smile at Beat's words. It still feels difficult.]

I've had some practice.

[In moments like this, he falls back on the same sort of understatement he often does, adding the subtlest bit of levity. But now, at least he has something to focus on. He stands beside Beat with a fairly similar --but not identical-- stance, and gestures at his own feet.]

You're doing well. [But he taps on Beat's knee.] Don't lock your knees. Exhale just before you pull the string back.

[Beat adjusts his stance as Link instructs him to, relaxing both his grip and his pull on the bow as he does so. The ache in his arms burns from the exertion, but he powers through it, wanting to get it right.]

Aight. So kinda like skatin'.

[It's easier to think of how he should stand this way, loosening his knees as he applies familiar knowledge to the exercise. Focusing on a tree in the distance, he lets out a long exhale, drawing the string once more and holding it taut. It's not a perfect mimic of how Link would hold it, but it's a definite improvement from earlier.]

How's that, yo? [Beat wants to look towards Link, to see his reaction, but is worried that he'd screw up his hold if he does so.] Think I can hit that tree if ya gimme an arrow?

[Like skating. That's an insightful observation, and Link nods to agree, slightly surpised -- not because Beat thought of it, but because he hadn't made the connection, himself.

He watches Beat's stance change. He's never really had the experience of teaching someone else how to do anything like this, but it's a good distraction nonetheless, focusing his attention on something right in front of him instead of brooding on the past. Perhaps it doesn't make everything better, but it keeps him from dwelling on it too much in the immediate aftermath.]

More or less, yes. Good. [Taking an arrow from his quiver, he hands it to Beat.] You'll want to exhale again just before you release it. Give it a try.

[Finally relaxing his stance, he reaches for the arrow being handed to him. It takes him a few attempts to nock the arrow against the string, fumbling with it more than once before he gets it right. Activities that required a certain amount of finesse have never been his strong suit, but he's determined to get it right.

Finally, he lets out a breath and pulls it back once more, aiming it at the tree he had pointed out earlier. Then, on his next exhale, he releases it.

The arrow however goes wide, missing the tree by a couple of feet. Beat clicks his tongue against his teeth, but doesn't seem discouraged as he hands the weapon back to Link.]

Naw, seriously, yo. It's helluva lot cooler when you's the one doin' it. [He doesn't think Link is a bad teacher by any means, but there was a reason he chose to rely on his fists and psychs. Those came easily to him. But he continues to make light of the situation.] Can't even blame the sun for how shitty I am with it.

[He's got the stance down quite well, really, but aiming and firing...well, if you've not built up those muscles with practice, it's very hard to do it well beyond the occasional lucky shot. Link nods at Beat's stance, even as he fires, but doesn't seem terribly surprised.]

It takes a long time to learn. Also like skateboarding. [The faintest whisper of smile tugs at his expression. He's had more than his share of bumps from falling off the wheeled boards thus far, and he imagines it'll continue happening.

He takes the bow when Beat hands it back, looking thoughtfully over the curve of it, the way the light of the plaza shines just a bit through the bowstring.]

I've been at it for most of my life...and even I still miss. Often.

[That's what he's been learning -- not just from fights, but from everything. Sometimes you just miss.]

[Beat chuckles lightly at the comment regarding his own hobby. He's seen more than a few of Link's attempts at it. He, too, remembers just how many times he had fallen when he first picked it up. There was a point when it was odd to see him without a bruise or a scab from one of his falls, but he kept at it despite it all.

Given time and a lot of practice, he feels that even he could be at least decent at the bow as well.]

Yeah, sure, but you still gotta pick yourself up again, don't ya? Even if you miss or wipe out, you can't jus' sit on your ass an' let 'em kick you when you're down, right?

[Beat has such a way of doing that. Whether he means to or not, he cuts right through to the heart of something, and this is no different.

You still gotta pick yourself up again.

He's right, of course, and Link has been doing as much from a young age -- from what he remembers, at least. Training and skateboard practice are not so different, in that way...and perhaps the same goes for battle. Because he hasn't done it yet, but he has Calamity Ganon within his sights, so to speak. Whenever he's able to return to Hyrule...that's the last thing left to be done. Pick yourself up and set things right.]

Yes. [He inhales quietly, realizing that while that destiny still has gravity to it, it no longer weighs as much on his shoulders as it once did.] That's precisely what I hope to do.

[While he was sure that he was listening to Link this entire time, Beat couldn't help but tilt his head at that response.]

What you's hopin' to do? Thought I was the one gettin' a lesson, yo.

[Link is quiet for a moment; thoughtful. He puts the arrow back into the quiver, examines the bow a little bit, looking for anything to hold his attention as he speaks.]

The creature that defeated me at home is still at large. [In a manner of speaking, of course. Princess Zelda maintains the seal on it, for now...but it won't hold indefinitely. They both know that.] Sooner or later, I'll have to pick myself back up and go after it.

[So that's what he's talking about, some unfinished business of sorts. It was something Beat understood well and was something he could respect.

It was the same for him when Neku disappeared from the RG after he was killed. After some mourning, he set out to find him, knowing that he was still out there somewhere. Beat could feel his connection with his friend in his bones, in his soul. There was no time for him to sit around and sulk. So he too, picked himself back up then, and started searching.

Circumstances between him and Link may have been different but the two of them shared a similar determination within them.]

Gotta deal with that, huh?

[They had spoken about whether or not you remember things when you go home before. For a brief moment, that thought crosses Beat's mind again.]

Too bad it's back home for ya. [In that same breath, Beat moves to Link, slinging an arm over his shoulders, draping the rest on the other side of Link's neck.] Woulda helped a brotha out if I could tag along, you know?

[Long ago, Beat's words might have been a harsh reminder of his solitude in his fight. Now, they serve only as a warm reminder of the friendships he's cultivated while he's been here.

He leans into Beat, shoulder nudging him a bit. He'd always be glad to fight beside a friend.] I'd be grateful for your help, too.

[He's quiet for a moment after that. Gotta deal with it. Link isn't sure he'd put it that way...not anymore, at least. For a long, long time, he looked at that duty as a burden: something he must do, a task he must see through. Somewhere along the line, his desire to protect people had become something else -- a responsibility, a weight to carry. Now that he cannot see it through, he's finding more and more that he wants to. That he's ready. Past ready, perhaps.]

... Even if I'm alone, I need to see it done. I want to restore peace. I want to bring Princess Zelda home.

[There's something familiar in the way Link speaks about wanting to bring her home that resounds with Beat. Though he was still learning about Link's life before the dream world, he could feel the need and desire simply in the way he says it. He himself had felt that way in the Reaper's Game, both when he vowed to bring his sister back, and again when he swore to find Neku. Even not knowing the full story of Link's hardships, Beat understood.

His arm around Link gets just a little tighter, pulling him into a half-hug as a form of encouragement.]

Then you gonna bring her home, yo.

[There isn't a shadow of a doubt in his voice as a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth.]

[There is a confidence that comes from the surety of knowing that something must be done, or you must die trying. Defeating Calamity Ganon and freeing Princess Zelda is one of those instances: he cannot run from that fight, even if he wanted to. He cannot let her continue to wait for him. But at the same time, hearing Beat affirm that brings resilience to his resolve.

The nudge, too, brings him to some nostalgic place. Some memory of Daruk clapping an enormous hand on his back, or an encouraging word from a parent. Despite the bittersweet tone of those memories, when it comes from Beat, it draws a smile from him as naturally as anything.]

I am. I will. [And he believes it too.] Thank you.

[For this. And, you know. For everything else.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

002 ⚘ dream recording

sender: beat

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