This is something I thought of more than a year ago but never got around to writing. Combing through my computer, I decided to finally finish it (I'd written one sentence). In my defense, it was never a completed thought and I don't know exactly where I was going to go with it. However, I remember the broad strokes so I went through with those. I hope you enjoy this rough piece.

Link stood among the wind tossed grass of Hyrule field, feeling the cool wind chill his sweat drenched body. His sword lay down in the grass before him, driven in blade first. It seemed to point toward the sky but Link ignored its direction. Instead, Link stared on ahead at capital city. At first glance it was normal, but Link knew better than that.

He searched through the sky above and found the wisps of faded black smoke. He could smell it in the air here too, though this hill was more than a mile from the city. The wind was weak but still it traveled, the sickening stenches of battle. Smoke and dust hung all around, as did the scarring smell of blood. It only got worse with each step toward the place.

Link lifted his shield high overhead, barely managing to stop the polearm's downward swing. He was powerless to stop it totally, though, and had to let it slide down off the silver metal. The sound screeched in the air, metal on metal. It was all around, everywhere. That tearing sound. Link could feel it running through him. He could feel it in his bones as he saw the falling blade's destination. The mounted axe was deflected straight through the neck of the man to Link's right. He screamed a dying scream and gurgled like a pulled fish. He dropped dead while Link moved forward. Still the sound went through his head. Metal, like the scream of dying gods. It burned back and forth through his head relentlessly. Link drove his sword forward through the man's chest and felt it scrape the edge of his rib. It was a slight tremor which only he would recognize. Surely that man felt it but Link could not know his pain. No matter how he stared at the dying eyes, Link could never truly understand what he had put the man through. What he had done. Blood sprayed from the wound and over Link, though this was nothing new. He was coated in the stuff.

Link clenched his hands until he thought the bones would shatter. His teeth seemed ready to bend inward from the pressure. Both arms shivered in pain and fear. Everything hurt in the memory.

The worse of it all was his head. Link could still hear it, all of it. The metal and the screams, each distinct and closer than his own heartbeat. Link could feel the blood on his tongue and in his nose. He saw each death and each blow that had nearly brought his own. Every voice ran through his head at once, calling out to him like the sound of metal. Always metal.

Still he looked out toward the city, staring through the mounting pain. The once white stone was grey, painted with smoke and blood. Some portions were broken away as if some giant hand had come and rearranged its very making.

Link tried to step forward, as if to return, but found that he couldn't. At that he tried the other way, to retreat away from this foulness. That was nothing as well. Link stood frozen, staring, remembering.

The horses always died first. It was known as a fact but horses were always brought despite. Anything to be kept from that place. If it were not a beast it would become a man. No one could put himself there for any reason. Death and madness resided on the front line and something had to fill the space. As horses died, their bearers were sent crashing down atop the opposing forces. They were speared and cut, or else trampled underfoot. They all died alike, raining blood in their vain attempts at escape.

With tremorous hands, Link reached forward and drew his sword from the earth's grasp. He raised it before himself and saw its bloody length fly out over the distant city. As if he were knighting that place, Link's arms dangled up and down for a moment before he could throw himself at the correct determination. Lowering it down for a moment, Link spun and launched the blade away from himself.

He spun for a moment, exhausted and out of balance, before catching himself to watch it fly. The sword spun through the air and caught the sun for a moment. Glinting like a ruby, it dropped down into the woods and disappeared.

Still unable to stop his shaking, Link ran out after it, leaving the smoking city behind him. Link did not search for the blade for he could never miss it, as he could never miss the screeching bloody havoc. However, the memories continued to plague him no matter how far he ran.