Hello all,

I do not own any rights related to Legend of Zelda. I am simply a fan who loves the games very much and recommends that everyone play them.

The Reflection is my take on the creation of the Zelda character commonly known as Dark Link from Ocarina of Time. For now, this is going to be a oneshot. If my Legend of Zelda muse comes back, I might improve/continue it.

The Reflection Becomes Real

The man walked across the mirror leaving me, his reflection, behind. When he reached the door at the end of the room, he realized that he was not alone and turned to see me. The shock in his eyes was mirrored in my own as we beheld each other.

As his shadow, my black tunic and hat matched his green ones exactly. We had matching boots, leggings, and belts. Gauntlets protected our wrists. I had a dark version of the sword and shield which were strapped to his back. I had his face and build. Other than our color and my being transparent, we were identical.

He perceived me as a threat and drew his sword. His cold blue eyes narrowed in anger, an emotion reflected in my obsidian ones; I drew my sword at the same time.

We splashed through the ankle deep water that covered the floor of this place as, in unison, we charged each other; he from his spot at the door and me from my station on the island in the middle of the water.

The man was a swordsman of astounding skill and for a few moments our blades repeatedly clashed against each other like thunder.

But, the swordsman was unused to fighting someone of equal skill to himself; most likely there were few people qualified. As I used his own techniques against him, my sword slipped through his defenses and cut his shoulder. With an anguished cry, he backed away and raised his defense once more. But as his reflection, his pain was my own and I reeled back from it also. We re-engaged each other and after another salvo of blows, I, using his own skill against him again, managed to strike his leg. It was a minor wound, but the pain made us both stumble. As we continued to fight, the look in his eyes changed from anger to worry as he began to see the difficulty of fighting himself. He began to modify his strategy accordingly and from that point the battle raged.

Around and around the room we went trading blows. Most were deflected; some landed. The need to survive was coursing through him now and as his reflection, I mirrored that. I needed to survive. But there was a terrible problem: every time that I wounded him, I felt the pain of it! He could land blows on me and be fine, but if I landed a blow on him, it seared as if it were my own flesh. Then it happened.

An emotion all my own dawned in me. Fear. This emotion flooded through me with a power that the others, not being my own, didn't have. Slowly the need to survive, which I had been reflecting, became my own also. I NEEDED to survive! I HAD to. I would exert every OUNCE of my being to LIVE. This spark of independence, was my undoing.

I first noticed the change as I slowly lost my transparency. As I became more solid, I quit feeling the pain of my opponents wounds so much. That should have given me an even chance with him. But as my reflective nature left me, I also started loosing the skills with which I had been fighting. They were his skills not mine. As I did my utmost to hold him off, he slowly started overtaking me. Eventually, I had nothing left and he gave the finishing blow.

The mirror shattered and the illusions of the island and water disappeared, showing that our battle arena all along had been a stone walled room. He stood over me for a while, terrible confusion on his face. When my form disipated to the shadows it was made of, he turned to leave the room. What he could not perceive was that even though my form was dispelled, I was yet alive. That need to survive still overwhelmed me. The door closed behind him and I was left alone, one with the shadows of the room.

After a time, I began to think about my situation. I realized that I knew so very little of anything. My first moment of being was when he crossed the mirror. I knew that he was a real being and that I was patterned after him. Obviously, I was capable of rational thought and memory like he was. But if I was supposed to be just a reflection of him, how was I capable of existing without him? I already had something of my own: a need to survive. Was I still just a shadow? Or was I something else? Now I had some more things of my own: Questions. What and who was I? Who was he? Where was this place and why was I here? I already had the answer to the question of what was I going to do now. I would try to get my form back and find answers.