Reverie

Link was surprised to find that the thicket Saria had led him into was very small—no more than three or four times larger than the room in his treehouse. That is, it appeared that way, because the trees around him were so tightly squeezed together that he couldn’t see more than ten feet beyond the first circle of trunks. It was as if the forest had caved in around him, creating an impenetrable barrier, and preventing anything from entering its small hideaway—or escaping it. Already, the tunnel Link had just emerged from seemed to be fading away amongst the infinite trees, as if it had never been there in the first place. Link shivered. Saria had better know what she was doing.
Link walked over to Saria. She was kneeling in front of a small, circular pool of water, about five to sixth feet in width. The outside of the pool was outlined in stone—a rim of smooth, glistening stone, as if it had been carved by a living creature, and not of the forest itself. The water itself looked puzzling. It must have been very deep, for Link could not see the bottom of it, and it seemed to flow slowly back and forth, like a gentle wave. Saria spoke to him without turning around.
“Link, look into this pool and tell me what you see.”
Link hesitantly obliged, and took a seat by the edge of the pool. At first, he didn’t see anything. There was just one small wave after another, disturbing the pool’s otherwise tranquil balance. Then, Link began to make out two figures. Fish, he decided, swimming around in frantic motions. As he looked closer, he discovered that the ‘fish’ he had seen were not fish at all, but strange, humanoid creatures. Their heads were pointed and long, and—in place of their hair—had strange, flimsy fish tails dangling elegantly from the backs of their heads. Smooth, silver scales lined their body, giving off a reflective blue sheen in the rippling waters. They glided throughout the water quickly and gracefully, making excellent use of the long, pointed fins adorning their arms, and their long, webbed feet, shaped like flippers.
“Zoras!”
Saria nodded with a smile.
“Yes, the river people. You’ve listened to the Know-It-All Brothers well. They are graceful in the waters, and more swift than any fish we’ve ever seen. When I look at them, they remind me of us—I mean, the Kokiri. We don’t get to see any outsiders here, but these look so…alive.”
Link began to speak, but Saria put a finger to her lips, beckoning him to turn his gaze back to the pool. As he did so, the air around him seemed to chill, and he soon began to discover goosebumps forming across his skin. Sounds began to fill his ears—sounds he should not be hearing. There was a loud roar of a tremendous waterfall, the sound of a harsh wind, and a strange, echoing siren—seeming to come from the fish-people themselves. As Link watched them swim about, he noticed that they seemed to be looking for something. They swam in an organized fashion, traveling together in a school, and then scattering whenever they reached a dark, expansive area of water. Was this really happening? Zoras were supposed to be bigger than this…
Link had little time to ponder this before the temperature around him began to vastly change once again. Steam began to rise out of the pool, and the sun, despite being veiled behind the thick branches of the forest, seemed to be beating down on him like a fire. The image of the pool turned a liquid red—not like blood, but rather had the appearance of a thick, syrupy texture, with a very bright glow. The image expanded, and suddenly revealed to him several large, bronze-colored statues, made of rock. As he peered closer, the statues seemed to move slightly, and curl up into large balls. Without any warning, they suddenly began to roll off in one direction, heading for an eerie red light. As the image focused, Link noticed that it wasn’t a light at all, but the mouth of a great cave—a mountain. The pool suddenly dove straight into the light, and before Link knew what was happening, he was looking at…he wasn’t sure. White earth covered the ground in every direction, and the sun loomed over him more oppressively than ever. A strong wind blew the white earth across his face—it was hot and stung, and left him feeling very dry and thirsty. He was tired, and the scalding white earth brought him no respite. He stumbled to the ground, feeling deathly weak. Suddenly the earth began to swirl around him like a whirlpool. Before he could jump out of the way, he began to sink further and further into the earth, until he was entirely submerged.
Link awoke, realizing he must have been dreaming again. He silently cursed himself for acting so weird around Saria, when suddenly he began to wonder whether Saria was with him at all. For all he knew, she had been a dream as well, and his whole excursion with Mido and the Lost Woods was all a part of his relentless phantasm. Deciding this was the case, Link began to rise to his feet—for all the good that did. All around him was pitch-black darkness. He could see nothing around him, even his own hand. He stumbled forward, trying to figure out where he was. He couldn’t be back in his treehouse, could he? The air felt too thin around him, and his footsteps made strange pattering sounds, as if he was walking on very smooth stone. He wasn’t thirsty anymore, but he was still tired, and was nearly resolved simply to lay back down and finish his sleep. Unfortunately, just as he began to settle down, a flash of golden light nearly blinded his eyes. He had little time to shield himself with his hands before the golden light focused into a solid, glaring shape.
Link stepped backwards, and felt the sickening sensation of pure air beneath his heel. To avoid another fall, he dove forward, hitting hard against a now illuminated stone floor. It was of a white color, but not like the wilderness he had dreamed of only moments before. It was pure and smooth—whiter than a cloud, and much harder than the silky earth he had wandered though. The surface of the stone was so clear, that Link could almost see his reflection in it, and the golden glow that danced across its surface seemed all too familiar. Link crept towards the edge he had almost fallen over, and peered over. This was the same tower from his nightmares—the same arches and spires, the same buttresses and stones, and the same feeling of the world around him suddenly slowing to a crawl. Rain began to fall from the skies, and a mist unfurled before him, revealing the same town he had seen in his dreams—the town ravaged with war—now a wasteland. Houses were burned to cinders and the ground itself was scorched so fatally that not even the faintest sign of life could be seen anywhere.
There was a crack of thunder, and another shadow was revealed to be looming behind Link. Except—it wasn’t thunder this time, and the shadow was much larger, and far more monstrous in appearance. Link slowly turned around, and saw two very strange and terrible things.
The first was a golden triangle, emanating a radiant light that lit up the whole sky. Link felt powerful energy leak through the air in this strange triangle’s presence, and nearly fainted as he finally diverted his gaze from its beautiful golden aura. The second he did, he began to wish he hadn’t. A grotesque, demonic creature stood just behind the triangle, snarling and glaring at him. His eyes like torches of blood red fire, and two massive horns outlined his head. He had a snout like a boar’s, and a jaw like a wolf. His dark form towered over Link, such that even the light of the Triforce could not prevent his shadow from engulfing Link. With one talon-like hand, he suddenly raised a trident into the sky, and roared. He lurched forward on all fours, colliding with the triangle and allowing its essence to envelop his body. Before Link could scream, the beast was upon him, and his jaws snapped shut.