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You can't feel pain in your dreams. This was a fact that Link took comfort in. Although he was often plagued with nightmares, he, at the very least, didn't have to suffer through any physical pain. This difference between reality and dreams wasn't something he consciously thought about, but it was a strong and present distinction all the same.
It was that same distinction that caused him to ignore all the red flags of Koholint.
During his fourth adventure, there would be times where Link felt that something was off about the island. Blurring landscapes, no boats or dates, and the dungeon bosses he would face that were quite literally known as nightmares ; monsters that looked and acted exactly like previous bosses he had fought. Not to mention that those same nightmares kept mentioning how Koholint would disappear if Link continued with his quest.
But no matter how insistent this feeling of wrongness was, Link could easily brush it aside. Because he felt pain. And you can't feel pain in your dreams.
So when the Wind Fish told him that Koholint was nothing but a dream, Link immediately refused to believe it. How could something so vivid, so lucid, possibly be fake? But as the Wind Fish continued talking, Link was filled with more and more dread.
No matter how hard he tried to deny it, a small part of Link started to believe the Wind Fish. All of the odd things about Koholint started to make sense. But Link still didn’t want to believe it. If everything was a dream, that meant that everything Link did was pointless. The dungeons he had cleared, the people he had helped, the feeling of finally letting his guard down and falling in love… it was all meaningless.
Anxiety seized Link, shooting through his chest like a spike. He suddenly needed some sort of confirmation that he was awake, that he was real . So he did the only thing he could think of. He grabbed the dagger that hung from his belt, pressed it to his palm, and sliced it open.
And it hurt.
It was an aching pain that spread throughout the entirety of his palm and even his fingers, and blood flowed from it like a warm, red waterfall. When he flexed his palm the pain worsened slightly, and blood dripped out even faster. Relief flooded through him, because pain meant reality. Clearly the Wind Fish was lying. The proof was right there in his hand. How could this be anything but real?
But the Wind Fish seemed oblivious to Link’s pain, and even if it had noticed, it wouldn’t have cared. It summoned the instruments of the sirens from Link’s bag, completely indifferent to the look of confusion and horror on the hero’s face. The Ballad of the Wind Fish started to play, and the world began to shake. The violent tremors made Link fall over, scraping his knees in the process.
And it hurt.
His knees, like his palm, filled with an aching pain as he struggled to get up. Once he found his footing, he wasted no time in rushing down the stairs of the cave. His breaths were sharp and labored, and he had to force himself to keep breathing. His chest was tight, squeezing his heart so hard it was a wonder he didn’t go into cardiac arrest right then and there. His legs began to shake, and they almost buckled on several occasions. The running only worsened these feelings, but he couldn’t stop. He had to check on the island, had to make sure that everything and everyone wasn’t actually disappearing, that everything and everyone was real.
He had to make sure Marin was real.
As he continued to make his way down the steps, Link tried to distract himself from his panic by focusing on his pain. He tried to think about the throbbing in his knees every time he bent them, and the dull pain in his palm that was already starting to fade. He tried to cling to the hurt, tried to let it anchor him and convince him that his conversation with the Wind Fish was all a misunderstanding.
You don’t feel pain in dreams. He felt pain. Therefore this wasn’t a dream.
This isn’t a dream, this is real, this isn’t a dream, the Wind Fish is lying, this isn’t a dream it can’t be a dream how could it be a dream?
A blinding light filled the cave, closing in on Link on both sides. He tried to ignore it and kept running. As he continued down the steps, he realized that his palm and knees were no longer hurting. He once again reached for his dagger and reopened his cut, needing the pain’s reassurance that Koholint was real. But the pain he experienced was weaker than before, filling Link with an even deeper sense of panic. He gave himself a new cut, hoping that this time it would hurt more.
But it didn’t hurt.
It didn’t hurt at all. Link’s panic grew overwhelming as he cut himself deeper and deeper, trying to feel pain and failing to. He was almost at the exit of the cave, but he couldn’t see anything on the other side except more of the blaring white light. His heartbeat grew impossibly more erratic as he realized what that meant.
The Wind Fish was telling the truth.
So in an act of pure desperation, Link stabbed himself right through the hand, praying to Hylia that he would feel something .
But it didn’t hurt.
The light grew even closer to Link, but he didn’t even notice. He was too busy repeating the same two phrases in his head like a mantra.
This isn’t a dream, this isn’t a dream, this is real this is real thisisrealthisrealthisrealthisisrealthisisrealthisis-
The light finally reached him, and Link’s vision turned white.
“-gend! Legend! Link!”
Legend bolted upright, panting heavily. Anxiety clawed at him, constricting his lungs and making him feel like he was suffocating. He started to breathe faster in an attempt to get more air, but no oxygen ever seemed to reach him.
Where was he? Was he on Koholint? He started turning his head, trying to look where he was to gain a sense of his surroundings, but his vision was so blurry all he could make out were smudges of green and brown. His hands began to grope at the ground, reaching for anything that could give him even the smallest sense of familiarity.
After a few seconds of aimless searching, Legend’s hand was met with someone else’s. The other hand was calloused but gentle, and filled with a comforting warmth. It softly squeezed his hand, and Legend squeezed back as hard as he could. This helped to ground the veteran, if only a little.
It took a few more minutes of heavy breathing before Legend began to calm down. His breathing was still too controlled, and his body was still shivering ever so slightly, but he was functioning again. His vision was clearing, and he could finally see where he was. He was in the middle of a forest, and there was a campfire nearby. Seven other people laid around in bedrolls, sleeping peacefully.
Legend sighed as his memories started catching up to the present. He was in Wild’s Hyrule, and the events of Koholint happened almost three years ago. Legend took several deep breaths before looking to see who’s hand he had been holding. His gaze landed on a mop of fluffy hair resting atop a concerned, freckled face.
“Hyrule?” Legend said, his voice uneven.
“It’s me…” Hyrule replied softly, “Is there… something I can do for you?”
“I’m fine, Rule,” the veteran muttered, prying his hand away from his successor’s. The second their hands stopped touching, a wave of nervousness came over Legend, and he suddenly felt as though he were lost. He pressed his hands against the ground, digging his fingers into the dirt in an attempt to secure himself to reality. It didn’t work very well, but the veteran refused to admit he needed comfort.
Hyrule frowned at his predecessor, “Legend, you don’t have to hide anything. Let me help you.”
“I’m fine,” Legend repeated, his tone defensive. Hyrule sighed but said nothing, and once again reached for Legend’s hand. The veteran was too distraught to argue, so he allowed it.
Hyrule’s grip was gentle but firm, which Legend appreciated greatly. He had felt like he was floating, but now he had Hyrule’s hand to act as a tether.
“Nightmare or memory?” the traveler asked softly.
Legend sighed, “Memory.”
Hyrule nodded and squeezed Legend’s hand.
“Do you… want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Hyrule knit his eyebrows together in worry, “Legend… you know that I don’t want to push you but… I’ve been worried about you lately. You’ve seemed… off, the past few days. If something’s been bothering you more than usual, you should tell someone. It’s not good if you bottle everything up.”
“I said I’m fine, Rule,” the veteran snapped, “Now go back to taking watch.” Although Legend’s tone was harsh, the healer didn’t seem fazed.
“My turn is almost over, so I’m going to wake up Twilight. After that, I’m going to lie down with you. You don’t have to say anything if you really don’t want to, but… just let me be here for you. Please,” Hyrule’s words were filled with so much care that Legend couldn’t find it in him to refuse.
“Fine. Go wake Twilight.” A look of relief passed over the traveler’s face, clearly pleased that Legend was accepting his offer. Hyrule stood up to wake the rancher, letting go of Legend’s hand in the process.
Another surge of anxiety filled the veteran as his successor temporarily left him. He once again felt as though he was adrift. He felt like he wasn’t fully present, like the world around him wasn’t fully real .
His anxiety turned to fear, and he tried to convince himself that he was just being paranoid. Of course everything around him was real. But his words alone weren’t enough. He needed evidence that he was truly awake.
So while Hyrule was still talking to Twilight, Legend reached for his sword. He unsheathed it only slightly, just enough for the blade to be visible. He quickly slid one of his fingers over the edge of the blade, effectively giving himself a shallow cut.
And it stung.
The pain he felt was sharp and precise, causing relief to crash over him. Although Legend had felt pain on Koholint, it was always dull and diluted, nowhere near as potent or intense as real life. Pain on Koholint felt much fainter, as if you were remembering an injury instead of experiencing one. Once Legend had realized this, he used this knowledge to his advantage whenever he felt the need to check if he was in a dream or not.
Legend immediately felt calmer as his cut continued to sting. He was awake. The things and people around him were real. The world had meaning.
He sheathed his sword again and went back to sitting in his previous position. His finger was bleeding heavily, so he quickly ripped a loose piece of fabric off his bedroll and wrapped it tightly around his cut. He finished tying the cloth in place just as Hyrule came back.
“Hey,” Legend said, careful to keep his bandaged finger out of sight.
“Hey. You look calmer, are you feeling better?” Hyrule asked.
“I guess. I told you nothing’s wrong.”
Hyrule sighed as he sat down next to him, “Listen, you don’t have to explain anything, but you should at least be honest that you’re not feeling well.”
The veteran’s voice softened, “Rulie… I’m okay, really. So just drop it, alright?”
“Legend-”
“Please, Rulie,” Legend said, his voice somehow even gentler, “Not now.”
Hyrule sighed before nodding reluctantly.
“Fine. But I’m still going to stay here with you, alright? And even if you don’t want to talk to me right now… I’m always here to listen.”
“I know. Thanks.”
A few moments of silence passed before Hyrule spoke again, “Do you think you’re ready to try and sleep again?”
Normally, when Legend had these types of episodes, the last thing he would want is to fall asleep again. But he didn’t want to worry Hyrule even more, so he nodded. Plus, if he started to doubt reality again, he knew he could just cut himself again to check.
“Yeah… let’s sleep.”
The healer nodded and lied down, and Legend followed suit.
“Sweet dreams,” Hyrule mumbled.
Legend almost laughed at Hyrule’s statement. Instead, he just scratched at his injured finger, causing him another spike of pain and giving him another reminder that he and everything around him was real.
“Yeah, Rulie. Sweet dreams.”