A/N: Edits completed for spelling grammar and clarification of points.

The dreams were always the same, but the main character always looked different. He consistently wore a green outfit, though the style varied every time, just like the man who wore it. This time, the young man in green fights a monster shrouded in darkness, a long blade glowing brilliantly despite the lack of sun. The man is covered in dirt, his green clothing in tatters showing the silver chain mail underneath. The white shirt he wears is stained and dirty, and the armored shoulder plates on his sword arm are dented and scratched from leading into attacks. The end of the blue scarf that is wrapped around his neck is fraying terribly, making it almost impossible to recognize the Royal crest on the end. His blue eyes shine in the darkness, his brow is set in a deep frown. There is blood trailing down his left side as he stands in front of the sea of darkness. He raises his sword arm to his face and smears some of the blood trickling from a gash on his cheek onto his leather bracer. He takes a deep breath in and then charges forward into the darkness.

Iry opened his eyes slowly. He turned over in the dark room and felt about for the book and pen he kept on the night stand. By the light of the moon, he wrote down the details of the dream. Shortly after beginning to have these dreams, he had decided to keep track of what was happening in them. For some reason, he felt that they were important. He felt a strange familiarity in them all and he also noticed that the young men in the dreams all looked fairly similar, like they were from the same family. He stopped writing briefly and placed the pen in the middle of the book. They were probably familiar because he had been having the same dreams for over a year. Iry had done some reading of the subject of dreams when he had spare time, which wasn't very often. He had read that reoccurring dreams usually meant that the dreamer was worried about something subconsciously, which made sense considering all that was happening in the world lately. He clicked his tongue once and went back to writing the dream details. After a few more moments, Iry stretched his back, hearing it crack in a few places before closing the book and setting it quietly back on the nightstand. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day, he needed to get back to sleep.

Iry was the son of a soldier. As far back as the family could recall, the males were always soldiers in the Royal Guard. This job held no interest for Iry, though; he would rather travel Hyrule and collect knowledge. He loved to spend his time in the library when he could, soaking in as much as possible about Hyrule and its history. Nowadays though, there wasn't much time for reading or adventuring. The land was especially not one to travel through, at least not anymore. There had been a time when Hyrule had little need for armies or armed caravans. There had been a steady peace for hundreds of years, resulting in economic and societal growth. More trade had been opened with Termina and adventurers traveled far distances and across the sea to see the world. The vast lands of Hyrule and the inhabitants had once long ago waged war against the armies of the Gerudo. The land of Hyrule and the Gerudos, who lived in a huge desert named the Great Desert, located southwest of Hyrule, had never had a very amicable relationship. Any relationship between the two lands was stressed even more when the King had been born.

Legend had it that every 100 years a male would be born in the Gerudo tribe. This male was destined to be the King of the Gerudo. Once such King had tried to take over the entirety of Hyrule and the neighboring lands. Iry had read that the King, named Ganondorf, had been consumed by the Evil spirit, The Demon King, Ganon. This had led him to become corrupt and due to this corruption, sought out the legendary Triforce in the hopes it would grant his wish for complete and total domination of all the lands. Thousands upon thousands of years before that, Hylia, the Goddess of Hyrule, had once waged war on the Demon King himself and had sought the help of the Hero of Hylia. Together they defeated Ganon, sealing him away for what was to be eternity. The same was true when it came to the Gerudo King, Ganondorf; the chosen hero came forth to destroy evil. The Hero of Hylia, the Hero of Time. Hyrule's heroes. There were countless stories depicting a hero arising and defeating whatever evil it was that came to Hyrule.

While there was no evil demon king or desert king, the relationship between Hyrule and the Gerudo was still incredibly stressed. The discovery of an ancient land past the Great Desert and the people that lived there had further distanced the two peoples. Any attempts to pass through the Great Desert were met with force. The Gerudo had even started to moved inward in the lands, attacking caravans heading to Termina for trade. Iry rolled to his side, his mind continuing to ponder the happenings of the world. Adding further to the problems of Hyrule were the monsters. Moblins, Stalfos and other such enemies had become bolder. It had become a far more dangerous world in the last few decades, Iry noted with a sigh, closing his eyes and trying to quiet his mind. These were not things he really needed to worry about, he was only a soldier after all. Someday maybe he would be able to see more of Hyrule, but it wasn't tomorrow. Tomorrow he was with the other hundred trainees learning simple warfare tactics.

Opening his eyes again, Iry rolled to his back and stared at the stone ceiling above him. He ran a hand through his ashy blonde hair, resting his hand on his forehead. No matter what he tried, he couldn't get his mind to stop. He kept thinking about the different things he would hear every now and then in the meal hall or in town. Talk of an impending war, talk of missing patrols or curses. It was all just too weird. Iry was never one to listen to rumours, but something just felt off in the world, aside from all the trouble being made by the Gerudo or monsters. Rubbing his face with both hands, Iry frowned and pulled off his blankets. He wasn't going to get any more sleep, so he might as well get up and do something. He shivered slightly as his bare feet touched the ground, and moved to the closet to grab his clothing. He pulled on his grey pants and a white long sleeved shirt, leaving the ties for the collar undone. Slipping on his socks and boots, he quietly headed to the door. On nights when he couldn't sleep, he would always go to the same tree and sit on the highest branch to watch the stars and sunrise. The sun rising over Hyrule was something he would never grow tired of seeing.

Sitting atop the branches felt different this morning, which irritated Iry. This was not a good start to the day so far. On the climb up the tree, Iry had noticed a bruise forming on his left hand. Now, sitting on the branch, Iry tried to inspect his hand in the dim light of dawn. He couldn't remember hitting it on anything, especially since his leather braces and gloves would soften the blow of anything that could have potentially caused the bruise. Clicking his tongue again, he looked up and watched the first rays of the sun peek up over the horizon, a warm breeze gentle going through the trees. In the distance, he heard a lone wolf howling. Strange things were happening in Hyrule, but it wasn't for Iry to worry about.

As the sun rose higher into the sky, he could here the sounds of the camp coming to life. Standing up on the branch, Iry raised his arms for a full bodied stretch before slowly beginning his decent of the tree. He would need to get dressed fairly quickly, as he didn't want to be caught in the terribly long lines at the breakfast lines. He didn't usually eat much in the morning, but this was one of the times he was able to spend some time with his father, albeit the two didn't really talk too much. Iry wasn't a morning person, a trait he inherited from his father. The two enjoyed the short meeting though, and always took the chance to see each other. vaulting to the grown, Iry sprinted back to his room. Once there, he quickly donned his chain mail and equipment. Looking at himself in the mirror, he pulled his white uniform over his chain mail, and buckled up his brown leather belt. He placed his left shoulder armor piece on and adjust the two buckles quickly. Finally, he pulled the long red scarf around his neck. He grabbed his long gray gloves and bracers and stuck them in his belt, leaving the room as he tied up the collar of the white undershirt.

He had dilly dallied too long, and noticed the line for food had gotten a little too long for his liking, so he quickly walked outside and scanned the tables for his father. Spying him, Iry began to walk to the table, pulling on the gloves and buckling up the bracers as he went. Iry's father looked up at his son's approach, his deep blue eyes scanning the young man's uniform. As Iry sat across from his father, adjusting his shirt, his father smiled in greeting.

"Iry," his father began, the wind gently tousling his golden hair. "It is unlike you to be this late and unkept." Iry looked at his father quizzically, before looking down at his uniform. There as nothing out of place. Looking up again, he saw his father handing him an apple. "You've forgotten your leg bracers". Iry Accepted the apple and frowned, shaking his head and giving a sigh. This had been the worst start to a morning he had had in an incredibly long time. He would have to leave breakfast early to go back to grab them.

"It hasn't been a very good morning," Iry admitted, rubbing a gloved hand over the apple before taking a bite. His father nodded, and began eating his own breakfast. Iry's father was a brave man. He wasn't known as being incredibly skilled in any one area of combat, but he was smart and because of this, he had been pulled from soldiering to help the tacticians. Iry's father, Rom, was an average height man with a lean build. His hair was long, and tied in a high pony tail. He wore a grey, dusty cloak clipped in to the plate armour on his right shoulder. He had tanned skinned, and many laugh lines. Rom was a light-hearted man, and Iry had a difficult time imagining him in a combat situation. Rom didn't have the feel of a soldier to him. Rom noticed his son's stare and tilted his head slightly before closing his eyes and lifting his head to the breeze. He took a deep breath in, opened his eyes as he exhaled. Iry noticed the side of his father's mouth turn down slightly, wondering what his father was thinking. As if reading his mind, Rom looked up at Iry and pursed his lips.

"I'm sorry to cut our breakfast short this morning Iry, but I need to go." Iry took another bite of the apple and nodded to his father. The two stood up together. Rom lifted his bowl from the table and shrugged his shoulders back. Rom reached his hand out and shook Iry's hand. "Perhaps we can meet quickly this evening over a drink. I have business outside of Hyrule castle I will be departing on in a few days and there is something I want to discuss with you." Iry nodded in acceptance and let go of his father's hand. Normally, Iry's training had him working late into the evening and his father was even more busier than Iry. It would be nice to relax a little with his father. " Don't forget the bracers, Iry," Rom called as he walked away. Cursing, Iry took two giant bites from the apple and turned to go back to his room. He couldn't be late for training, not if he now wanted to finish early to meet his father.

By the time Iry had raced to his room and grabbed his bracers and then ran to the training ground, the opening instruction had already begun. He quietly slipped into the grounds, hoping he was out of few of the instructors. Iry wasn't concerned about getting into trouble, he knew that these instructions wouldn't really help him. Despite his father's lack of combat skills, this was something the Iry excelled at. He had never had difficulty with swordsmanship or marksmanship and was excellent at hand to hand combat, despite his smaller stature. His combat skills, coupled with his intellect, had let him push forward in the ranks with ease. The instruction and training now was more to keep him from becoming complacent in his training and skills betterment.

As Iry stood in the back, he couldn't help but hear some of the Royal guards discussing an incident quietly, closer to the weapons draw. Try as he might tofocus on the instruction, he found he kept tilting his head to the conversation happening just a little ways from him. The guards were discussing an attack that had recently taken place on one of the royal caravans. No one from the Royal family had been present, the caravan had been a diplomat returning from some trade talks in Termina.

"There wasn't anyone left alive," The taller of the two whispered to his friend. "The entire caravan was wiped out. The weird thing was, it wasn't the Gerudo and it wasn't a monster raid."The second guard shook his head, moving a finger to his chin.

"It honestly doesn't make sense. There have been so many of these attacks, even the Goron have mentioned it. How is there still no one who can identify what happened?" The first guard shrugged in reply. The second guard noticed Iry's stare and motioned to the first. They both turned and looked at Iry silently, before staring again at each other. With a curt nod to the Weapons guard, the first guard walked away. Iry turning back to the gaggle of trainees, but found he couldn't listen the anything happening around him. This was the first time he had heard about this, and it had apparently been happening for a while. Iry bit his bottom lip in thought. Today was turning out to be such a strange day. His attention returned to the group as they all began talking and moving to the weapons draw. Iry moved into line, trying to force the thoughts from his mind. He would take sword again today, his preference, he thought absently.

"I know you heard what we were talking about," a voice cut into Iry's thoughts. He looked up and saw the weapons guard holding Iry's training sword. "Do not speak a word to anyone." Iry stared at the guard impassively, taking the sword and turning away. What did it matter if he said anything, he was probably not the only one to hear them discussing the issue. He clicked his tongue and moved across the grounds to where the veterans were practicing. Iry scratched the side of his head, his short hair prickling his fingers. A veteran soldier walked up to Iry, offering his hand and smiling at the young man.

"Ready to have your ass handed to you?" The man asked, a smirk on his face. Iry grinned and accepted the grisly man's hand. This was Dagner, a captain of the Royal Guard. The scars on his face alone were proof enough that he was highly skilled and not just bragging.

"I don't really think that's going to be the case this morning," Iry replied, releasing Dagner's hand and taking the proffered shield. Danger gave a deep laugh and motioned for Iry to follow. Iry grinned again and took a deep breath in. Today, no matter how off it had started, he was finally going to beat Dagner.