Author's note (June 2, 2019): this story is currently in a thorough rewriting process and uploaded chapter for chapter as a separate story. If you are as unnerved as I am by the cheesy story, language-related disasters and formatting atrocities I committed when I first posted this story, then feel free to head over to the rewrite. I will leave this story untouched for those who enjoy this version more, and no shame if you do, because major parts of the story will have been altered or completely removed and might be missed by some readers.

Sincerely,

DR

Prologue – Ordon Village

Ordon. If ever someone was looking for paradise, simple, carefree, peaceful, they would shout out aloud. ''I've found paradise!''

True it was. The traveller, be he merchant, musician, storyteller or simple adventurer, who stepped out of the vast forest of Faron Province and let his gaze wander around over the little blue rooftops, steaming chimneys and pumpkin patches, would call it paradise without a second thought. The eight little houses scattered around a burbling river of crystal water, a simple dirt path and small areas of high grass, and lovingly built out of the finest wood found in the neighbouring forest or even carved out of one of the immense trees that grew sky high, gave the foreign viewer an image of a perfect little community living like a big family through the seasons.

Would he start to walk along the road, following and crossing the river with on a little, nicely simple wood bridge, he would halt, near the far end of the path, next to a bigger, wealthier looking house but still matching the appearance of the rest of town, with a grey-blue tiled roof and a long porch guiding the visitor to a two-doored entrance. But would he continue his ascent up the village he would arrive at a gate, constructed only by four huge boughs meeting in the middle a good distance over his head, with a set of proud horns at the knot. Further up the path, a faint bleating would ring in his ears, the scent of grass, straw, horse and goat would ensnare in his nostrils which already had let some of the more unaccustomed and finer folk from Castle Town crinkle their nose in dislike.

But the simple farmers and herders of Ordon Village had never cared. They greeted every newcomer and visitor with a warmth in their heart that would let every traveller's ill thoughts evaporate in a matter of seconds, replaced by a huge smile and a mug of honey ale in his palm while the stout mayor of the small community guided him into his big house and pushed him down jovially on a wooden chair, listening to whatever news and stories the foreigner had to offer him.

The leader would then guide his guest through the village, presenting him his fellow denizens and showing him around gleefully. This is what he would tell every arriving visitor with his booming, bellied voice: ''Ah, my dear fellow, how nice it is to have you with us. It's so saddening rare that we see a new face around, I sometimes forget how to speak to strangers, hah! Ah, may I present you the blacksmith of our humble town, Rusl, and his beautiful wife Uli. Rusl, how was the hunt? You see, my friend, we had a tough winter last year and ran out of meat far too quickly, so this year we have to go hunting more often for more stock. But the harvest promises to be good this autumn, so we shouldn't be in much trouble. Here you see Jaggle's watermill, where we grind our corn from the field. If you're looking for our infamous Ordon goat cheese, we should pay Jaggle's wife Pergie a visit, I dare say she did a good job with the goats' milk this year. Oh, and remind me to give you a jar of Hanch's fine honey, his bees were very enthusiastic this spring. His wife Sera owns the shop right here, if you're looking for food for your journey back. Oh, and Fado here, he's the master goatherd …''

And so on. Bo had always had the habit of talking unendingly until sundown, if ever someone paid him heed. His daughter Ilia, a happy girl of fifteen, mostly stepped in after a while, proposing the traveller a bed and something warm to eat. The village was always happy to offer someone shelter for the night and a good meal, obtaining in return stories, music or trading goods from the lands beyond the forest. Ordon's people, even if fond of visitors and happy to buy merchandise not found on the land, lived independently from Hyrule, the bigger country in the north with cities and lakes and mountains. And happily so. They could sustain all their needs with what the earth gave them, with goat breeding, hunting, farming and collecting, but was there something they didn't have, like ore for forging or wool for clothing, merchants like our fellow visitor were happy to be engaged in vivid trading and haggling over at Mayor Bo's big, grey-blue roofed house with its double doors and inviting porch.

Had anyone with a little farming experience stepped into the village and had looked at the houses, he would immediately have noticed the lone stable at Gertie's, the weaver of the town in her mid-fifties, and her old, good-hearted husband Harold's house, a farmer since he could walk. The only four-legged farming help the village owned were the three donkeys that lived there, in the well-cleaned stable, their happy donkey-life filled with plough-pulling, transporting of wheat sacks, wood and vegetables, and loving petting from the hamlet's children.

Four they were, two only children and two brothers. Beth, about twelve now, Talo, eleven and stormy as a boy could be, and his brother Malo, a full-cheeked six-year-old, sarcastic brat. The fourth was the shy, blonde haired Colin, son of Rusl the blacksmith, who was silent and not very sure of himself. A fifth child was on the way, in beautiful Uli's womb and awaited in the following late spring with impatience and pleasure from the entire village.

The remaining inhabitants living their simple life as farmers were Moe and his sister Kila, son and daughter of Harold and Gertie, moved out simply because their parents didn't have enough room in their cosy little home any more. Both in their thirties, they were the backbone of farming in Ordon, happy, working fellows who did most of the labour on the big field behind the ranch when the other denizens were busy with all the other work sources in the town. Milking the goats, harvesting pumpkins, apples, pears and peaches from the patches and fruit trees, carrots, salads and onions from their own garden next to each house, hunting and butchering a goat or cucco whenever one was old enough. The field was the main source of potatoes, wheat, lentils and hay for the donkeys which the two siblings sowed and then reaped together each autumn. The big barn on the ranch which served as stable for the goats was also a storehouse for all the goods the assiduous farmers collected over the year. Mayor Bo's job was then to make sure each household had everything it needed, distributing the crop out to all his inhabitants equally and in response to every family's needs. Since the town counted just eighteen tenants, young and old, there had never been any problems with corruption or burglary. The townsfolk were a vigilant, clever, happy group of people who helped and loved each other like family members. That was why Mayor Bo was so proud of his serene little village of Ordon.

''My dear mayor, you are indeed a lucky man with all these intelligent and hard-working people around you. Yet I have a little question to ask, out of simple curiosity.'' The merchant scratched himself behind his long, pointy ear in embarrassment. It was this elegant pair of hearers that let him stand out from the rest of the villagers with their plain, round ears. He was a Hylian, not a human like the townsfolk, a young trader coming from the lands beyond Ordon and the woods of Faron. It was a good three days' march from the big city of Castle Town to the reclusive Provinces of the South, and it was this fact that let travellers become so rare in Ordon.

''Since my work is based mostly on that, I dare say that I am fairly chummy with numbers. You said there were eighteen citizens, oh pardon me, villagers! in this town, yet as you led me around, I counted only seventeen. Is there someone I haven't met yet?''

Bo didn't need to hear the tradesman's sentence to the end that a smile crossed his full lips. ''You impress me, you counted fairly right. Yes, I think there is someone we have indeed not met, for I haven't seen him around here myself today. Oh, Rusl, do you have any idea where Link is?''

000