One hundred years he’d been gone.
One hundred years he’d missed.
One hundred years he couldn’t even remember.
Sure, the Sheikah Slate helped him recover a few essential memories, but everything else… was gone. What did this building look like? Was Death Mountain always this angry? Had he roamed these cliff sides before?
Who were his friends? His parents?
Lost memories are just a small price to pay to fulfill some divine duty, with your fate written in the stars well before you’re born.
That’s what Link was – just a fate written in the stars. A boy chosen by the Goddesses to save Hyrule.
He wouldn’t complain. He knew Zelda needed him, and he knew the people of Hyrule needed him. Especially now, one hundred years later, when most of the kingdom was barren and unlivable due to the forces of Ganon’s evil.
They needed him even if he couldn’t remember himself.
So he fought for them, because that’s what heroes do.
Link was sure heroes also helped weary travelers in need, despite the constant threat of the Yiga trying to kill him with every chance they got.
He didn’t understand why someone – humans, no less – would want to aid Ganon, to help this pure form of evil incarnate.
He knew when he saw the other Hylian, standing by the bridge that led away from Kakariko, he should have kept walking. Out of sight, out of mind.
The Yiga were unbelievably strong, and Link was tired, and if he engaged in a fight right now he’d likely lose.
… But still, the traveler was staring into the distance, eyes roaming the hillside, as if they were searching for something they had lost.
Link steeled himself for a fight, praying to the Goddesses above they were a regular Hylian, before approaching them.
