A/N: A short one-shot exploring a moment of respite during Link's journey in Breath of the Wild. Enjoy :)

The cover image is what gave me the inspiration to write this one-shot, so I wanted to share it with everyone. It is on DeviantArt and the piece is titled A Moment of Quiet by xX-Mr-No-Name-Xx. Thank you for sharing your beautiful talent with the world!

Disclaimer: The story below contains intellectual properties from Nintendo Co., including, but not limited to, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild and The Legend of Zelda franchise, and are in no way owned by myself, nor do I claim ownership of any of the events that directly correlate with previous installments made by Nintendo Co. in the franchise The Legend of Zelda.

Big and Small

By: Selphie Kinneas 175

.:.

A tree with roots deep into the earth grounded him. Its unwavering protection and dedication to its duty kept his head from floating to the clouds above. His back against the bark, he was stable, but he was small.

The sky was dark but the stars were bright. He gazed up at the twinkling lights, the distance immeasurable and the vastness irrefutable. The atmosphere swallowed the land, and he was weightless, but he was small.

The grass beneath him stretched on for miles. It was vibrant and soft and clung to the earth with a strength he wished he possessed. He was inspired, but he was small.

The mountains were gods. The peaks touched the heavens and the roots grazed the underworld. They were strong, they were big, they were intimidating. In their presence he was empowered, but he was small.

In the distance stood a castle. Menacing, foreboding, dark. From it he saw smoke in red and black and purple. From it he heard whispers and growls and curses. An omen radiated across the expanse and pierced his soul. The weight on his shoulders was big, but he was small.

His heart made him exceptionally aware of its presence – it pounded forcefully and beat noisily. His breath stopped in his throat when the rhythm of his rapid pulse and the soreness in his tired muscles and the weakness in his fragile bones and the heaving of his empty lungs and the tremors in his calloused hands and the doubts in his amnesic mind and the Goddess-forsaken insanity in the entirety of his existence which he couldn't even begin to understand... broke him.

He leapt to his feet when the heat beneath his skin became too much to bear. He paced and huffed and twitched. His eyes beheld the ground and the trees, the stars and the mountains, but fear and uncertainty were a thick fog that clouded his better judgment. His ears heard the sounds of crickets chirping amongst tall blades of grass, wind rustling through quiet leaves, and nothing more. Everything was empty, everything was still, everything was missing.

A demon king hell-bent on destroying everything he knew in a lifetime he could not even fathom, let alone recall, threatened his every waking moment. He was afraid. Perhaps, more afraid because he did not understand. He had no memories, no recollections, no comforts to fall back on. He did not know who he was. People called him Link, but what did that mean to him? They called him a knight, a hero, the wielder of the sword that seals the darkness. What did any of that mean to him? Nothing. All he knew was coming to in a dimly lit room with a heaviness in his chest and a shallowness in his heart.

His thoughts were scattered, his feelings were hollow. The hole where compassion and companionship once filled his weary spirit was big, but he was so small.

The blade on his back was heavy, heavier so with the duty attached to it. Seal darkness. Destroy evil. Restore peace. How? The stories were horrific, graphic... they tore him in two despite having no memory of caring for this land or its people. His mind and spirit were at a constant disconnect. His brain told him he did not remember, and, therefore, did not care. His heart told him otherwise. In his heart he had feelings and emotional ties and... love. He didn't know where it came from, he couldn't understand it.

This was all so much bigger than him.

He ran trembling fingers through matted hair. The dirt beneath his fingernails leaving traces through already filthy locks. He was a mess. He looked down at the bloody gash across his thigh, the reason he had decided to take a respite in the first place. It bled freely, almost hoping it would be deep enough to halt his progress. He grimaced as it stained his trousers and he looked up to the heavens. He glanced from star to star, cloud to cloud. The moon was bright and big and the sky was an empty void... but he was so small.

This wasn't the first time the idea of letting it come to an end entered his mind. He had never felt so completely and utterly alone. Not that he would remember, but his heart told him it was so. He was merely a speck in a universe greater than his understanding could ever be. A puppet in a play he wanted no part of. A pawn in a game played by gods and devils so big he couldn't even see them. The scope of what was left to him... was just too big.

He panicked, as he did from time to time. He could keep his composure better than a trained actor, but when he found himself alone yet again, surrounded by naught but silence and trees, what did it matter?

He rubbed his hands together, his chilly fingers shivering more than usual. He ran his hands down his face, telling himself it was okay to give up. It was okay to fail. He could just... lay down and let it all be done. Let himself finally rest, finally... be big enough.

But she wouldn't let him think like that.

He heard her voice in his heart. He couldn't explain it, couldn't make sense of it, but he felt her. He didn't know who she was, but her presence was warm and calming. She told him to keep going, that she needed him. He breathed deep and closed his eyes. He at last felt the crisp night air feed his starving lungs, and he was revitalized.

He stared out across the world and it began to shrink. The mountains weren't so scary and the sky wasn't so lonely. He nodded to himself with the tiniest smile that no one could have possibly seen, but he felt it. He felt her hand on his heart, and it always managed to pick him up when he found himself knocked down.

He sat down with his back against the tree. He reached into his pouch and pulled out bandages. He cleaned his wound and wrapped it tight, the discomfort not particularly bothering him. He exhaled in some mild form of contentment, lifting his good knee up and resting his arm upon it. Taking in the sights before him once more.

The tree at his back was still strong, its roots deep and fortified. The sky above him was still dark, its many stars contrasting and breathing life into the air. The grass beneath him was still soft, each tendril a pillow to cushion each landing when he inevitably fell. The mountains were still powerful, their sharp points telling him he could reach any height he deemed worthy of him.

Perhaps his task was too big. Perhaps it required too much and didn't give enough back. In the scheme of everything – the world, the gods, the demons, the prophecies and the legacies – he was but a speck.

He was small, but his courage was big.

And that would be enough.

End.

A big thank you to the following for helping me get this one-shot out there!

SonadowKokoro100, Debora, Mandelbrot, Chloe Rose, Lotus Eater, Ivalee, Lee Glerum, Gabby-J

You guys are amazing!