Disclaimer: I don't own Legend of Zelda, any of the characters in the Zelda series or the "original characters" that I created based on them, except their name (if I did, I wouldn't waste my time here). I'm not making any money of this and if I forgot anything else in this disclaimer I did or didn't do that as well.

AN: Normally I keep these at the end of the story, but I feel this is needed here so I won't get any angry reviews and/or flames. First of all, Link does not appear in this story. Neither are Darmani, Mikau, Malon or Dekaru (his kids). So, why is this posted here, you ask? Because this is based on A Link to the Past and is a sequel to The Four Swords (which is a sequel to Professional Hero) starring one of the characters from that story. Hope you still enjoy it, and please, review.

Chapter 1 – Farm boy

The sun stood high in the sky and beamed down on the shirtless man who was stacking hay. Sweat glistened on his firm muscles (result of the hard work on the farm) and long black hair was clinging to the sides of his face. He stopped working when he saw the horses in the distance and his dark brown eyes narrowed as he took them in. They didn't look like the regular traders of Mendrova city to him, but they still had a wagon with them. He started again with his work as the visitors came closer.

"Excuse me!" one of the visitors shouted as he came closer to the young man, "we're looking for Potrin's farm."

The man stopped working again and looked the speaker up and down. The man on the horse was somewhere in his early twenties and his clothes, though dusted, looked expensive. He had short blond hair and tried to grow a beard, but somehow failed. At his side was a sword in a gold plated scabbard. A bit further, next to the wagon, two other horses waited. The riders, a man, in a mail shirt and a sword at his side (obviously a guard) and a young woman, who was wearing an expensive dress underneath her dusty cloak.

"It's over there," the man nodded towards the farm, "you can't miss it. It's the only building around."

"Say," the woman giggled, "you wouldn't be Franklin, would you?"

Franklin's eyebrows rose slightly before his eyes narrowed.

"That's me," he replied.

She giggled again.

"So you're the farmer who wants to be a fighter, huh?" the man laughed.

"I've told you where to find my dad's farm," Franklin said as he started his work again, "now, if you'll excuse me, I still have a lot of work to do."

"So, it's that way then?" the man asked, pointing in the direction Franklin had told him.

When Franklin ignored him, he just grunted and rode off. When they were at safe distance, Franklin glanced towards them and spat. The farmer who wanted to be a fighter? This sounded like William… but who were those guys and how did they know William?

After Franklin had finished his chores, he returned to the farm. He noticed the cart and the horses were standing next to it, but ignored them and went straight to the water barrel that was at the side of the large building. He rinsed off the sweat of his body and dried himself of with a cloth. As he put on his shirt, the door opened and his father came outside with the visitors. The woman looked in his direction and whispered something to the young man, and both giggled. Franklin ignored this as well, but his patience was growing thin.

"Ah, Franklin," Potrin said as he noticed his son, "these people are from Lepirin, and they're interested in buying the milk from our farm."

"Yes," the young man said, "we've heard good things about it, and we became curious. And indeed, after we've sampled it, we now know that the things we heard weren't exaggerated."

"Good to hear," Franklin said and wanted to pass the man to go inside.

"I must say," the man said with a sly smile, "I've heard about you too."

"I already gathered that much," Franklin grunted and started to walk to the door again.

"I must say," the man stopped him again, "it made me curious on how good you really were with a sword."

Franklin said nothing but glared at the man. It was clear he wouldn't walk away without drawing his sword, which was kinda hard since it was in the house.

"Would you mind a little sparring match with my guard?" the man asked as he nodded towards the man with the mail shirt.

Franklin glanced at his father who shook his head.

"Sorry," Franklin said, "don't want to damage future clients."

"Yes," the man chuckled, "I've heard you had a misplaced ego too…"

Franklin froze and then glared at the man.

"Fine," he said coldly, "give me five minutes to get my sword."

Five minutes later, the guard stood ready in front of the house. He was simply waiting, resting his hands on the handle of the sword, with the tip on the ground. Franklin had come out of the house, with his sword strapped to his side and holding two bottles.

"So, what are the rules?" he asked, ignoring the others, "first blood or first injury?"

"Let's make it interesting and take first injury…" the young man grinned.

"Since you're not fighting," Franklin replied without looking at him, "I think it's best my opponents answers."

"First injury is fine by me," the guard said coldly.

"Do you know about fairies?" Franklin asked, ignoring the others.

"Yes," the guard nodded, "sir William said how he discovered their healing powers."

"Again with the sir," William muttered and shook his head.

The jackass would never learn. Guess that beating in Castor Village wasn't enough.

"It wasn't him that found it, but that doesn't matter now," he threw the guard a bottle.

The guard caught it and put it behind his belt. He raised his sword in a form of salute and Franklin did the same. With a swift attack, the Guard jumped forward, and Franklin seemed just in time to parry the strike. The guard kept attacking relentlessly, but Franklin was ready for him, each time at the last second.

"You're indeed good," the guard complimented him with a grin, "but still a long way to go, and thus clearly no match for me."

The guard doubled his attacks, but it seemed Franklin parried him with more ease now than before. Realisation that he had also been tested, crept on the guard's face, and just as he was about to make a comment, Franklin attacked. The guard was able to parry, just before the sword hit him. The guard growled and prepared to attack, but Franklin suddenly jumped forward. His attacks came faster and more precise, and suddenly a sharp pain scratched his chest, and he knew Franklin had drawn blood.

"Still continue?" Franklin asked with a grin.

The guard glanced towards the young man, who nodded.

"Yes," the guard growled but then felt Franklin's sword enter his sword arm.

Blood ran down his arm, over his sword and with his other hand, he went to the bottle with the fairy in.

"I win," Franklin said as he took a step backwards and greeted the guard again, "I must say, I enjoyed the fight."

The guard simply muttered something as he watched how the fairy healed the deep cut on his arm.

"I can't believe you let him beat you like that, Ivrin," the young man said as he walked up to guard.

"I'm sorry, lord Rowin," the guard lowered his head, "he's simply better than I anticipated. Next time I'll be ready for him."

"But there won't be a next time," Franklin said as he took off his sword belt, "you go back to Lepirin and I'll stay here. And just as well, I don't want to waste my time fighting meaningless battles, no matter how much I enjoyed it."

"Your arrogance…" Rowin started, but Franklin cut him off.

"It's not arrogance," Franklin shook his head, "it's simply the truth. After Vaati was beaten last year, the Moblins that he brought over have been raiding our lands. All the time I have is used up by helping my dad on the farm and fighting the Moblins. Duelling someone from another country, who I'll probably never see again, although fun, isn't high on my list of priorities."

"Then I'll make it higher on your list of priorities," Rowin spat and drew his sword, "we'll see how well you fight against a trained sword fighter instead of a simple guard!"

Potrin wanted to stop the young man, but Franklin threw him his bottle with the fairy in.

"You'll need it more than me," he grinned.

Rowin caught it and lashed out with his sword. Franklin rolled out of the way, grabbing his sword in the movement and turned around to face Rowin. The young man attacked again and Franklin caught the blow on his sword, turning it so Rowin's sword was pointing down. With his free hand, Franklin hit Rowin in the face, breaking his nose. As blood ran down his face, Franklin hit him again, making him fall over and the woman gasp. Franklin kicked his sword out of his hands and then kicked him in the stomach.

"The fight with your guard was a duel," Franklin said, "this fight is to show you how I deal with the Moblins, because you don't deserve any better. Potential clients or not, you draw your sword one more time on me, and you'll die by my hand. Got that?"

Rowin didn't reply but simply grunted as his hands went to the fairy bottle. Franklin looked down on him.

"So, now you know my sword skills," he said, "anything else you want to know?"

Rowin simply shook his head, slightly embarrassed, as he got up. Franklin turned to his father, who had watched everything with a shocked expression on his face, and sighed.

"I'm sorry, dad," he shook his head, "it's just…"

"We'll… uhm… we'll buy the milk," the woman said, "we will take some bottles with us as samples and then start a trade route… if that's okay…"

Potrin blinked once and then nodded.

"Yes, yes of course it is…"

"I… I would like to apologise," Franklin started.

"No," the woman shook her head, "it's us who should apologise. We had no right to put you into this position. It's all our fault. In fact," the woman glanced towards Rowin, "I would like you to ask if you could come with us to Lepirin."

"What?" Rowan gasped, "what are you talking about?"

"We've had some trouble in Lepirin lately and we could use a good swordfighter like yourself."

"And you've proven you can handle yourself," Ivrin nodded.

"I… I'm flattered," Franklin blinked, "but I…"

"Go," Potrin said, "the Moblin forces aren't so dangerous anymore and the guards can handle them. And I have nothing more to teach you. Go to Lepirin and maybe you'll be able to improve your skills even further."

Franklin thought for a moment and then nodded.

"Very well," he said, "I'll go with you."