Hero. Knight. The stalwart pillar of justice, strength, and protection. Those words had been burned into his mind at such a young age. It had taken everything to live up to them, to everyone's expectations of the legendary hero. And now, he had a new word to live up to. Champion.
Link stood before the commander, his father, with hands behind his back in a relaxed parade rest. The older man had a grim look on his face as he paced behind his desk. The letter in his hand bore the royal seal, though the thick golden wax was torn in half. The sight of it made Link uneasy. It was not something he wished to see. At last the commanders heels clicked together and he turned to stare down at Link with hard brown eyes.
"You've been summoned to the castle," he said quietly, carefully placing the parchment on the desktop. "It seems that the king has managed to excavate the old relics from legend and now truly believes the rumors of Calamity Ganon returning. To follow the old tales, he wants the hero who wields The Sword that Seals the Darkness to be one of the Champions." The last part was forced out in a growl as the commander slammed his fist, rattling the bottles and quills atop. Link suppressed the urge to flinch, shifting uneasily from one foot to the other. "It is foolish! If there is any threat, you should stay with the army. The king has no head for war. He would not put you where you can truly put your skills to use. Not some childish tale!" After a moment, the air left him and his shoulder slumped forwards. "But it does not matter what I tell the man. He is king and I must obey." Those steely eyes turn towards Link and his whole face hardened once more. "You are to leave at sunrise tomorrow, son. Remember who you are, who your ancestors are. You are the Hero and I expect you to epitomize it. Dismissed."
Without another word, the commander turned away from him and stared out the window behind. Link left as quick as he could, almost slamming the door in his haste. Once in the dim hall, the tension left him and he slumped against the wall. More. They were giving him more duties.. Just when he'd managed to become knight and please his father, everything had to change again. Especially when it would be bringing him back within close range of … well, it's best not think about that. Link sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, leaning back more to stare at the barreled ceiling. No matter how much he hated it, duty called. The king didn't want a grumpy young man, he wanted the Hero.
"Why, hello there again, Master Link." He jumped at the soft voice, bashing his head against the stone in his haste to straighten up. A soft laugh brought his eyes forward to see the hunched form of a Sheikah man perched upon the window sill, a long white braid falling over his shoulder and almost touching the ground. He straightened from his crouch and tugged down the face mask, revealing a sharp grin below lavender eyes.
"Rhenn," Link breathed, returning the smile with a small one of his own and holding his now bruised head. "What are you doing here?" It had been years yet since he'd seen his slender friend.
"Summoning you, of course. Mustn't have the Hero missing for the gathering of the Champions." He grimaced at his words, bringing another bark of laughter. "I take it your father was less then pleased," he continued softly, eyes darting to the door nearby then back. He shook his head, again running his fingers over his hair in his nervous habit. "Regardless of what he thinks, I would more hear of what is in your mind. You do not look as thrilled as most would imagine." A lump formed in his throat as he tried to push the memories back. "You two still haven't spoken, after all these years?"
Link felt his face warm at the question and looked away, lips pursed in a tight frown. There was a reason he worked himself to the point of where there nothing but training techniques running through his head. Rhenn clicked his tongue and wagged his finger at him. "Such a shame with how close you were and-"
"Please! Just let it be, Rhenn," he snapped, pulling another wry grin from the tall woman.
The Sheikah bowed and pulled his face mask back up. "As it pleases you. Well, I must be off again. The king is expecting my return before morning." Link looked back at him, squinting against the bright sunset light coming in through the window as he climbed into it. Rhenn looked back over his shoulder. "I hope you are braced for a tumultuous welcoming, my boy," he said with a wink and leapt out. Link rushed forwards, watching as his form gracefully flipped and landed several stories below, scaring the group of soldiers training in the courtyard. Link couldn't help the corners of his mouth lifting in a half smile at his love for flare. The day he had become skilled enough at his acrobatics had been the bane of many a persons wits. The Sheikah tended to fling himself from any height and surprise any who dare be below him.
In the distance, the last bell of the day rang, signaling the end of training. The clatter and clamor of gear and weapons being neatly put up echoed up to him. It looked like he wouldn't need to return below after all. Link stood straight with a sigh and made his way back to his room. It would be better to forgo supper, as he was sure rumors were already spreading. He didn't feel like dealing with the quiet comments and glances.
Once behind his own door, he relaxed a bit, glancing around the small room. His eyes landed on his sword, drawn unconsciously to it. Without thinking, he picked it up, pulling it from the sheath and holding it out before him. A calm swept over him as he took in all the minute details and engravings, the rich color of the hilt and guard. It was silent and dark, much to his dismay. Ever since the earliest day he'd held the blade, glowing and whispering at his first touch, he had yet to hear it again. He hadn't told a soul of this. It was shameful that the great Hero couldn't hear the words of his sword as the legends told. Even so, holding the sword filled him with a steady determination and left him feeling more...at ease with his fate. It belonged with him and would always stay within his hold.
Link shook his head and sheathed the blade, hanging it from the peg above his bed again. He shouldn't get distracted when there was packing to be done. With the ease of repetition, he quickly rolled, folded, and filled his pack and saddle bags. He sat on the edge of his bed, glumly looking down at the small pile and sighed. The feeling of dread was growing again now that he was no longer busy. Every swallow just made the lump in his throat worse. Link flopped back onto his bed, grabbed his pillow, and slapped it over his face to let out a muffled yell. He hated this! Was there no way to clear his head? Everything was over and done, but still the memories kept creeping back, showing those Goddess be damned eyes.
The pillow was throw across the room with a yell. There was only one thing that could help. With more force then necessary, he kicked the door open and stormed down the many stairs. Winding through the maze like halls, Link followed his nose. Good, he was still there. He stopped in front of the cracked door and just smelled. Toasted herbs, the sizzle of meat, and the steam of vegetables drifted out and pulled him in. He entered to see the back of the cook. A large man with a gloriously shiny head that was somehow fit and muscular, though everyone knew him to test his food more then he should. Said man turned at the door creaking, a large bun his mouth as he stirred a pot. His eyes lit up upon seeing Link, so he sucked the rest of the bread in with a pop and grinned.
"Ah, Link! I was wondering when you would show up. Come, come!"
Bashfully, Link complied, peeking into the large pot on the table. "Thanks, Perot. How did you know I'd show up?"
Perot hooted and rapped the wooden spoon against the edge of the pot. "You know how news spreads around here, my boy. Like wildfire, they say! And after all our late night cooking sessions and heartfelt confessions, I can say that I know of a certain person excited for your arriv-"
"No no no, please! Why does everyone bring that up?" Link growled, taking the spoon from the cook and giving the pot a stir of his own. The scent of vanilla, cream, and egg rose and he knew just what this was for. "Do you have the bread ready? It seems like this is mixed enough." The cook chuckled and nodded, pulling out a pan filled with small cubes of bread. Link smoothly poured the contents of the pot into the pan, tossed everything, and popped it in the oven. The hourglass was flipped and he sat down at one of the small stools around the table, lifting a brow at his friend. "You know me too well," he muttered, hiding his face in his folded arms. Perot took the other stool and clucked his tongue.
"When you are not around the others, you go right back to wearing your heart on your sleeve, my boy. You are still young and the heart takes many a summer to learn how to feel without stopping," the man said, holding a hand over his heart with a dramatic flair. "You are thinking about rectifying the situation, yes?"
The young man groaned and lifted his head to give the cook a miserable look. "I can't, Perot. A hero doesn't do such things, much less a Champion. Strong, silent, and loyal," Link said, his stomach sinking, "Like a hound or a steed. That is what is expected when you wield the Sword that Seals the Darkness. And that is what I shall do."
All he received for an answer was a sad expression. "When it is required, yes, but do not forget that you are still a living creature with thoughts and emotions. You must let them out somehow. Unless perhaps you wish to end up like your father, eh?"
Link's heart clenched in his chest at the thought. No, that wasn't what he wanted, at all. But he didn't have a choice in the matter. He was born into this role and he had to do his part, even if that meant hardening himself. He'd already had five years to work on it. It was to the point where he could just focus, like a fine laser from a Sheikah weapon, and become another person. It slipped at times, but he was still working on it. Perot just sighed and shrugged. "You are a good boy, Link. I don't know of anyone else that could do what you do with your natural ease." The cook grabbed the drained hourglass and shook it. "Perhaps a nice bowl of bread pudding will help you clear your mind and rest."
Link leaned his elbows on the table again, watching his kitchen mentor take out the steaming pan, plate the dessert and slide it to him. The smell of was wonderful, just as he remembered it as a child when he would visit his father and clumsily trained with a tiny wooden sword. Perot would always beckon him inside when he was tired or crying from a splinter and offer a treat of some sort. Soon Link was joining in and copying Perot's every move, finding pleasure from cooking and even more from tasting. He slowly ate a single bite and let out a small moan at the flavor and warmth as the bread melted on his tongue. The warmth seemed to spread and sink into his bones, finally allowing him to relax. Before he knew it, he'd quickly scarfed down the rest. The empty bowl was pushed away as he leaned back with a sigh. Finally, he felt at ease.
"Perfect, Perot! I really needed that," he said, then perked up. He'd forgotten to pack one last thing. "Is it alright if I grab some things for the ride?" At the cook's nod, he grabbed bread, cheese, and a flagon, tying it up in a cloth neatly. Link stopped at the door before leaving, looking back. "I'm not sure how long I'll be gone. Just be safe while I'm away. And thank you again." He slipped out before he could see Perot's face or get a reply.
He hurried back to his room, adding his last pack to the pile. With his mind finally calm, the young man stripped down and slide into bed. It didn't take long for his eyes to grown heavy and fall asleep.
It was early when he was leaving. So early the thin band of white light on the horizon was barely visible. Link sat atop his horse and looked back at the tall and stout line of the Citadel. The bright, warm colors of the trees so common in the Akkala region surrounded the base, giving it a less frightening stature. He tried to burn it to his mind. It might have been hard, but this place helped him become a better man. He'd always keep the memories.
With a final look, he turned his mount and left. To Hyrule Castle and the less then pleasant memories that awaited him.