Chereads / The Fall of the Hero / Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Chapter 3

In the darkness, where silence seemed infinite, a body floated, suspended as if outside time and space. It was Eldrin. In this state of weightlessness, all tension evaporated, every sensation of danger or fear slowly fading away. A profound sense of calm washed over him, and he let himself drift into this tranquility, as though returning to a familiar, safe place where he no longer needed to defend himself.

Faint memories began to emerge, and the image of a warm, comforting room formed in his mind. Eldrin relived fragments of his childhood, a time when nothing had yet shattered the peace of his life. He found himself lying down, a small boy in his bed, bathed in a soft glow, as a familiar figure leaned over him his mother.

She tenderly stroked his head, her fingers gliding through his hair with a maternal gentleness, as if trying to chase away all his fears and sorrows. Her voice then filled the space, soft and soothing, humming a lullaby that had comforted him countless times. Eldrin could almost feel the warmth of her loving hand, and the world around him faded into a cocoon of tenderness. This presence invited him to let go, to forget, if only for a moment, the hardships of life.

"Everything will be fine," she whispered in a breath, her voice blending with the memory and gradually fading, "you can rest now."

Each word seemed to lift a little more of the weight he carried. Eldrin felt free, lighter than he had ever been, as though he could finally fall asleep without fear. Everything blurred into peace, and he let his consciousness drift away...

A voice suddenly shattered the tranquility. Weak, hesitant, yet insistent. "Wake up…"

He frowned. Who could disturb him in such a perfect place? Why was this voice calling him here, in this sanctuary of serenity?

"Wake up…" it repeated, clearer now but still distant, as though struggling to pierce the thickness of his dream.

Eldrin tried to ignore it, to sink back into the comforting warmth enveloping him. But he felt it slipping away, the image of his mother becoming hazy, her smile vanishing into the darkness that slowly returned.

"Wake up, Hope."

A shiver ran down his spine. Hope? That wasn't his name. He was Eldrin. And yet, the word resonated within him as if it filled a missing piece, something long forgotten.

The voice grew more urgent, pulling the last threads of peace away. "Wake up, Hope. My world needs you."

Violent images invaded his mind: scorched landscapes, metal spiders devouring all that remained alive, a golden-haired woman watching a young man exuding a dark aura who stared back at her coldly. The gentle dream unraveled, giving way to a growing unease. Eldrin shook his head, trying to push the visions away. He was just an architect, not a hero, not a savior. Why would this voice need him?

The images multiplied. He saw people fighting, a shimmering lake, a mountain erupting with molten fire, a desert engulfed in a brutal storm, and a village trapped in a raging blizzard.

Suddenly, he opened his eyes, his breath quickening. A familiar wooden ceiling appeared above him. He felt the hardness of the bed beneath his body and the coarse fabric of a blanket under his fingers. The voice still echoed in his mind, insistent, like a whisper he couldn't shake:

"Wake up, Hope. My world needs you."

He placed a hand over his heart, as if seeking an anchor, a connection to the memory of his mother and that moment of pure love. The gentle warmth had faded, but something remained within him, like an indelible mark. That word, Hope, still resonated an enigma he didn't yet understand.

Why did this world need him?

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No time to think; the door creaked open gently, drawing my gaze. A woman of advanced age, with silver hair and a face lined with wrinkles, watched me with surprise. Then, she smiled and walked toward me, her steps slow but steady.

She eased herself onto a chair by my bedside, handing me a bucket with a damp cloth. "Here you go, young man," she said with a kind smile. "I'm not as spry as I used to be, but I'm glad to see you're on your feet."

I took the cloth and pressed it to my forehead, soothing the lingering traces of fever, as I looked at her, still a little disoriented. "How did I end up here?"

The old woman nodded, her voice soft. "My husband found you on the shore. You were hurt, so he asked the village men to carry you here so we could take care of you." She paused, a shadow briefly crossing her face. "I'm Jasmine, and my husband is Esmond. You're in our grandson's room… though we won't be seeing him again." She smiled warmly, but I could see the sadness lingering in her eyes.

I set the cloth back in the bucket and, despite a dull ache in my legs, got up. Jasmine started to move as if to help me, but I gestured for her to stay seated. Feeling my muscles stir back to life, I stood at last, though a slight grimace crossed my face.

Still seated, Jasmine watched me with a gentle smile. "You could've stayed in bed, you know. No one would've blamed you."

I shook my head. "I don't want to waste your time. Besides, I need to make myself useful."

She regarded me with a kind, thoughtful expression. "You don't have anywhere to go, do you?"

I looked at her for a moment, then replied with a complicated expression. "No… nowhere."

Before she could say anything else, the door swung open abruptly. A broad-shouldered man stepped in, his white hair and beard framing a face etched with wrinkles. He grinned at me and said, "Well, kid, if you've got nothing better to do, why don't you help me chop some wood?"

Jasmine shook her head, mildly exasperated. "Esmond! The boy just woke up, and you're already putting him to work?"

Watching them bicker playfully, I couldn't help but smile. They reminded me of my parents, who always debated which sport I should play. My mom wanted me to take up ping-pong, while my dad was convinced I'd be the next Ronaldo.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I shook my head, amused, and interrupted them. "I don't mind helping. I've got nowhere else to be, and it'll get me moving a bit." I offered them a timid smile. "By the way, my name's Eldrin."

Esmond nodded, then grabbed my arm in a warm gesture. "Alright then, kid. Let's get to it. I'll show you how to split wood."

As we headed out, I saw Jasmine shake her head with a tender smile on her face, as though she recognized something familiar in me. Intrigued but unable to place it, I followed Esmond into the sunlight outside, ready to see what this village had in store for me.

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Stepping out of the house, Esmond glanced at me, then gestured broadly toward the village. "Welcome to Clairvine. We're situated between Kakariko and Hateno."

He paused, a melancholy expression crossing his face. "Clairvine… it was once a peaceful and joyful place. At night, the vineyards glowed with a soft light, illuminating the paths and homes. You'd see children running everywhere, their faces lit by that gentle glow… but that was before the war. Now, Hyrule burns, and every day is a fight for survival. Food is scarce, people vanish, and the children's laughter disappeared along with the vineyard's light."

My heart began to race, a chill running down my spine as I thought back to the creatures I had imagined. The image of the giant mechanical spider, which I now recognized as a Guardian, flashed in my mind. Hyrule. It all sounded crazy, but the pieces were starting to fit together.

I looked at Esmond, my throat tight. "And Zelda? And… Link?"

Surprised by my question, he hesitated, his expression hardening. "Princess Zelda is holding out as best she can against the monsters. But some say it's her fault we're in this mess because she couldn't master her power in time. Even so, she fights for us. She travels the land, helping wherever she can, saving whoever can still be saved. I remember the last time she came here… she bowed to us, asking for food, for care. To see our princess so proud, so brave reduced to that…" His eyes glistened with unshed tears.

He took a deep breath, and when he continued, his voice was almost broken. "As for Link…" His words faltered, and tears rolled down his cheeks before he wiped them away with a rough hand, his gaze lost in the distance. "He was corrupted. They say the monsters' leader laid a trap for him to get to the princess. Link tried to protect her, but he was taken. Now, he's one of them. He's become their most powerful weapon… and they say he guards the castle."

Esmond's words echoed in my mind, but I couldn't accept them. Link, the eternal hero, turned into a puppet of the enemy? It seemed impossible, but Esmond's sorrowful gaze left no room for doubt. My breathing quickened as panic surged through me. Without a hero, without the princess's power, how could this world be saved?

A dark thought crossed my mind, and I found myself murmuring, more to myself than to Esmond, "If Zelda and Link can't do anything anymore… who will save this world?"

Esmond looked at me with a gaze full of grief, then replied simply, as if no other answer was left: "I don't know, son. But sometimes, heroes come from the places you least expect."