( Note: I am not good at writing, so don't expect too much. I also don't know whether this sounds good in English, I tried to write it in a way that feels natural to me, but I am not a native speaker. This text is more of an idea, a concept, rather than a real "fanfiction", but I'll take any kind of feedback! :) 

(The title of this text is a placeholder at the moment)

That being said, enjoy your reading! )
( P.S.: I also want to thank Shield, a friend of mine, who helped me out with some parts! )

Perplexed and curious to understand whether it was a real person or a ghost, he decides to climb that hill.

While climbing, the crickets sang, as did the frogs in some pond nearby, and accompanying this melody was the sound of the grass swaying in the wind and his footsteps trampling it.

As he got closer, there were ruins of white steps embedded in the ground that continued to multiply up to the feet of that figure.
Once he reached his destination, Link leaned on his Sword's hilt, which stood sheathed with its point planted in the grass, and slowly looked up from the feet to the head of that stranger, analyzing every detail. But it didn't took him long until a gasp escaped his mouth.

In that moment, the night breeze felt like small cold needles brushing agaisnt his neck and face.
A strong emotion, like an electric discharge, spread from his heart to the tip of his fingers and ears.

Those familiar sandals, that long dress, those bracelets... those earrings and so the diadem, were in the same style as the clothes of the Zonai.

In front of him stood Zelda. Her melancholic yet determined gaze fixed on the horizon, cradling an hourglass against her chest, suggesting the symbolism of a sage.

He finally realized that was not a person, not even a ghost, but a statue.

Perhaps it was carved centuries and centuries ago to commemorate the works she did in her life.

Yet it was in pristine conditions. No cracks, no moss, no imperfections.

It was as if it had never been touched by time.

Link stood there motionless, hypnotized by her, scanning her face over and over again while he was so overwhelmed by his emotions that he could not ask himself any other questions or think of any theories about the hows and the whys that statue was there and it was like that.

A false hope was growing inside him. He began to autoconvince himself that if he remains there in front of her any longer, maybe he will see her blink and breathe, that’s how realistic she seemed to him.

What if she'll start moving? ... What if she’ll start breathing? ...

But then he shook his head and looked down, afflicted.

It's just a bizarre statue. It doesn't have a soul…

A knot in his throat began to tighten at that very thought.
I could stay here as long as I want, but nothing will happen.

After a pause, he took the Purah Pad out, stepped back a few steps, and took a photo of that Zelda. He wrote down the coordinates of that place in a notebook and put it back in his pocket.

He looked up at her once more. But this time he felt dread. Dread of feeling too much pain. Dread of no longer being able to hold back his tears and cry there in that nothingness where he found himself.

Even in that solitude he didn't feel comfortable to fully express himself, to let himself go completely.

But when you bury your emotions for too long your body eventually betrays you, fed up with being constantly subjected to such rigid restrictions.

A warm, salty tear rolled down his cheek. However he didn't realize it until it reached the corner of his mouth.

Then another one rolled down.
He tried to hold them back, but he could not control his body at all in that moment.

A stinging pang run through his heart as once again that ridiculous hope lit up in him.

What if she’ll move if he waits any longer? What if she’ll lower her gaze towards him and call him by his name, smiling?

No.

He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth.

That's enough.

With a lot of effort, more mental than physical, he put the Sword back in its place, between his back and the shield.

From the Purah Pad he materialized a Silent Princess flower that he had picked a few days ago. He climbed the steps, stood on tiptoe, and reached the hand holding the flower towards her ear.

He hesitated before caressing her cheek, but eventually he touched her delicately. Her skin felt frozen and hard under his fingertip, but he wanted to pretend for a moment that it was warm and soft the way he remembered it.

You are truly beautiful… as always.

Oh, how he would stay there all night, sleeping at her feet. He would stay there until the next day too and the next day after that one as well, but no, he could not allow himself to do that. He could not allow himself to grieve like that.

He bit his lip, bitterly.

After taking a few steps down he stopped for a moment to turn towards her one last time.

The pain in his heart increased as he was thinking of how much he misses her, but he couldn’t stay there any longer, he had to bury that feeling as he always does.

One step at a time, he resumed the journey he had interrupted earlier. But tomorrow, he would come back to see her again, to make sure she will still be in pristine conditions and that no cracks will ruin her figure.