He had been a monk, in a past age.

It mattered not how long ago it was. Time was of no consequence here, other than how it slowly turned his body to dust.

From dust we came, to dust we shall return—

His Sheikah robes, sacred as they were, had slowly decayed to rags with the passage of time.

—In the name of the goddess Hylia, I shall await the return of the hero of prophecy, and remain in reverence through all the ages ere that time—

His body failed him and fell to the same decay.

—with trifold wisdom to choose this, power to endure, and courage to wait.

His spirit kept on, undeterred.

His spirit did not see. It no longer had eyes, and unlike the way of the ice and thunder and fire and forest, he could not form or reform any. His spirit did not feel the cold dampness of the shrine, or see the blue glow of the ceiling-glass far overhead.

Nor did it feel the bodily anguish it had ignored for uncounted months before death.

His spirit was at peace to wait, now.

A hero shall rise to right the wrongs of Hyrule—

The legends were as old as the earth beneath the ancient chambers. Whether skyward bound or steeped in the embers of twilight, adrift in time or cast upon the great seas. The triune forces—calamity, hero, and princess would rise once more.

His passing this test will speak of his promise of becoming a hero.

The hero's need for strength of life would far surpass his. All in his caste knew this, and desired to aid in this. Their deity, with her sealing power, permitted them this great honor.

The life force of our spirits shall be bound in the sacred orbs—

His spirit's life force would be contained here for all time, except that the chosen one came and showed his worthiness of it.

—to be bestowed only upon the hero that passes this trial, that he might have strength to deliver our blessed kingdom.

His spirit could no longer see.

It could hear, however.

Water dripped from the ceiling, striking the water-covered floor with a glasslike sound. It had done so since a hundred years prior, and would likely continue a hundred years hence.

This we swear, bound to our oaths.

From time immemorial, he had held that oath.

The courage of the meek need not be splendorous.

To the end of all days, he would keep it.

It is courage to wait, even unto death.

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A/N: The people in the shrines actually creep me out a little, so here's an attempt to figure out what might have happened with them! *throws theoretical interpretations like confetti* I'm not sure what's with Hylia and orbs (or all the deities and geometric shapes, actually—certain triangles seem to show up a lot too), but sealing things in them seems to be her thing, since that power was passed down to Zelda. It might explain the whole "spirit orbs" thing, too?

On another note, I actually wrote something short—under 500 words! Look guys, I really can write oneshots that don't get to be 5k+ long! Whoo! XD

Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoyed! Stay tuned for the cooler stuff that's taking longer to write!