I wait for him.

Here, in this room… The fog swirls around the edges, and though I know from my own explorations that the walls are but a short distance away, the water and mist seem to go on forever, in this room where I wait.

There's not much here. A wet stone floor, a bare, dead tree, and the mist. That's all I can see. I know, again, that there are two doors, both locked, but I cannot open them. So I wait.

What am I? I do not know. That knowledge was not granted to me. I do not remember coming into existence. All I remember of my current existence is being in this room.

I hold a sword, and a shield. Somehow, I know how to use them. How well I am not sure, as I have no one to compare with, but the forms, the styles, they come to me when I hold those dark weapons. Instinct? Perhaps. As I have said, I do not know.

I know that there is something beyond this room. Sometimes, a flash of memory will come, but they do not linger long. I remember…

A meadow… There is a girl there. She plays a little brown instrument. The word for it has long since eluded me. I play with her, the notes of our song coming easily. The song… I remember that it was beautiful, but I can no longer remember the sounds. We stop, and her green eyes captivate me. I feel something strange, a burning in my soul, sparked by those eyes. I lean towards her… And everything fades.

A sparkling lake… I dive down into the water. Something glints on the bottom, and I grab it. It's a message in a bottle… I know that it was a message, but I have forgotten it.

A bustling town, alive and awake… I want to stay, and watch these people. But I cannot. I have a task to do. What was it? I remember it was important… There was a girl. I had to go to her. But why?

These memories haunt me… I know there were others, but every detail has faded. Soon, these too will fade into oblivion. They may be replaced, or they may not. Where do they come from?

Why do I wait here? Something tells me I must. I know, someday, that I will come through one of the doors, seeking to pass through. And I will fight myself. I must defeat myself. That is my purpose.

How do I know all this?

Who am I?

As I ask myself this, I hear a thousand voices whispering to me a word… what does it mean?


Is that who I am? Or is that the other me?

None of these questions have answers, but that is irrelevant. I have my purpose.

I wait for him.

He is here.

I hear the door slam open. I hear his footsteps where I stand, behind the barren tree. I see him run past. As he finds the locked door, I ready my blade to fight him, as I must. He turns, and sees me. He prepares himself, and I am glad that my time has come at last. But before we clash, there is something I must do, that I have always known I must do, as I knew this moment would come. I give voice to a question, the one that I believe holds the key to all the rest.

"Who are you?"

A Note

Well… I was bored last night with studying, and I somehow got thinking about Dark Link. What is he? I don't know. But I wanted to write a bit about him from his point of view, considering that the world must be really, really strange from his point of view. And this is what I came up with. It's extremely short, obviously, but I didn't put more than fifteen minutes of work into it. So, it sucks. Sue me.

James, aka FTEcho 4