It's been a long time.

She isn't sure how long. She has honed herself to a fine point, over the years, and not had much room in her narrowness for counting them. But it has been long.

Ganon writhes, and she cages him. Ganon struggles, and she subdues him. Ganon grows ever stronger, and she weaker. She hoards her waning strength, and learns ever more precise ways to apply it.

One day, there will be more than this. She knows it, in the core of her. Not just because it's her plan, although it was a very good plan and every careful step of it is burned indelibly into her otherwise hazy memory. She knows it because of who she is relying on. He cannot fail her. He won't. He will wake, and then matters will proceed according to his nature and the path she laid for him.

She thinks of it often, but never for long. Ganon is never content to let her rest, and so she doesn't. Her dreams of the future come in scattered glimpses, between clashes with the primal evil that haunts her home. Each thought of what's to come is old and well-polished, worn smooth by many small fleeting touches, like the front steps of the castle that are beginning to dip slightly under centuries of feet.

One day.

One day.

It's been such a very long time.