Once upon a time in a faraway land, a young prince lived in a glorious castle. Although he had a kingdom and his people, the prince craved even more. The prince wanted to be the true King of his land: to rule with an iron fist, to be the most powerful being to grace the lands. He learned spells, twisting his home into an ominous shape, and planned to expand his reach further across the fields. One rainy night, an old shaking woman came to the castle and offered him a golden token in return for shelter from the treacherous wild creatures. Repulsed by her stooped figure and haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the woman away, calling her a coward for fearing his forest. She warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for courage is found within. And when he bellowed, banishing her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful Great Fairy. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart—only his lust for power. And as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle and all who lived there.

Ashamed of his new monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic lens as his only window to the outside world. The token she had offered was a magical luminous triangle which would dim with time. If he could learn to look past his goal for power and love another, and earn their love in return by the time the token faded, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast?

Link tugged on his boots, hopping on one foot as he went towards the door. He slung his pouch over his shoulder and pulled the wooden door open, making his way out of the little cottage and down the grassy hill. The sky was bright blue and birds chirped in the short bushes lining the cellar door. Link inhaled a deep breath of crisp air, squinting his eyes to the sun reaching its high point. He'd slept in enough today, but with autumn around the corner, the noon hour was still a comfortable temperature. With a pleased smile, the young men headed down the worn dirt path to where he could see the stone walls of the township.

Castle Town was as pleasant as ever. It was bustling by now, and the market was in full swing. Calls of fresh bread and the clucks of cuckoos filled the air as Link stepped through the gates. His eyes fell to where a shaggy dog trotted in circles around the white stone fountain, etchings and figures of fairies pouring water from their hands into the center. His gaze then jumped across to the arched windows of the second story inn, and the darkened curtains of the Milk Bar just an alley away. Link paused his walking as a cart of milk and cheeses pushed past in front of him, nearly brushing into the stout man moving it.

"Afternoon, Link!"

Link waved back to Talon as he walked, watching him go and backpedaling as another stepped into his path.

"Morning, sleepyhead. You've got your head in the clouds again." Link smiled as Malon waved her hand in front of his eyes. "You nearly got clobbered by my dad. I swear he speeds up to see if he can get you to crash into him."

"Thank him for that." Link ran a hand through his hair. "I'm just excited to get back to Eagus'. Last time he showed me this new technique and I really want to—"

"Malon! Honey, help me over here, I need one of those bottles!"

"Okay, Papa!" Malon whisked away to her father's side and handed him bottles from the basket over her arm. Link gave a lofty sigh and rolled his eyes to the clouds. Oh well, same town different day. He walked his way down the street, carts and people weaving their way past in some orchestrated pandemonium of the usual bustle of city merchants. A man played a grind accordion at the main square, as he did every day. Link sighed slightly. Day-in and day-out, much the same. Even with all the commotion around, it grew stale so quickly. What would it take to have something more exciting in his life? As it stood, he'd probably have to give in and agree to help Fado herd his goats, and then what? He'd be stuck there sun up to sun down for the rest of his life… A mule walked by, pulling the owner and his wagon stall past. Link took two quick steps and jumped on the side, holding onto the banister as the cart rolled further into the town. Link hopped off at the third block before the grumpy owner even noticed he'd hitched a ride. He hurried through the street and into the waiting doors to the auditorium. Finally, something to look forward to.

"Hey, Link!"

"Afternoon, Eagus!" Link let the door shut behind him. A grin was already spreading over his face. Eagus straightened a shield hung on the wall before stepping down and walking his way over. Link already followed along the edge, observing the open chests of materials, spoils. Shields and weapons were displayed on the walls with banners of kingdoms old and new. A bookshelf stood between two such tapestries marked with the symbols of Hyrule. His eyes scanned the names on the spines.

"Back again, I see. I said you could rest yourself!" The man drew a towel from his sash, wiping off dust from his fingers. Link's own drew a green book from the shelf and flipped through it.

"I couldn't help it. I was nearly up all night thinking of how to perfect the form for the spin, and how to get the jump attack just right, and—" Eagus' laugh stopped Link short, the young man blushing quickly.

"You're sure a workaholic, aren't you?" He folded his arms over his broad chest, looking over at the book in Link's hands. His eyes rolled again. "I don't think I ever see you sit and read anything other than that book, you know."

"Legends of heroes and ancient kingdoms, magical fairies and spells, cities floating above the clouds…"

"You'd like to be up above the clouds, kiddo." Eagus smiled again, voice filled with humor, while others may have held more malice. Link was well aware that not all the town saw his passion for sword-fighting and heroes useful, thinking those more as fairytales and fool's quests. Never let it be said Link thought he was a normal kid-next-door, especially not with his father being the weapon smith he was. Link heard Eagus' chuckle and realized he must have been staring at the pages depicting the green-clad hero slaying a flaming dragon. "Well, in the clouds you wouldn't get to learn all this, would you? How about a day out? I heard word from Rauru that there were some ChuChus wandering in from the fields."

Link put the book back onto the shelf while nodding hurriedly. Yes! Battle training!

The town's people found his passion weird, but Link knew himself well enough. More than daydreaming of legends and learning histories of kingdoms past and present, he was a bit of a fighter. He could be delicate and use a bug net with the kids in the park, gentling pulling butterflies from the netting and holding them in his hands. At the same time he could take up a sword (or anything Eagus was willing to teach him, and even things Rusl invented for him to try) and learn new strategy. While practicing against the wood dummies in the auditorium was exhilarating, nothing made him feel quite as good as keeping monster swarms out of the town. Fighting against a real opponent was daunting, but he'd stepped toe-to-toe with plenty of monsters already.

The townspeople shied away from him at his eagerness to draw a sword to something so hideous from the woods. They worried about the smile that covered his face even talking about fighting. They still praised the young lad for his courage, and thanked him for scaring monsters off their fields, though with whispers as he went on his way. Fado still pleaded that he take care of himself. Even Talon had tried getting him to be a farm hand with his cows, blatantly proclaiming that it'd help him settle down with his daughter and take over the place. Link avoided making long conversation with him—he was too young to think even about marriage, when he could be doing the exact opposite of cementing himself in this little town. Eagus often talked about being a travelling sell-sword years back. He'd seen weird things from all over, trying weapons and learning things about the monsters of the area. He now kept to collecting stories and artifacts within this space, and even when he didn't charge those willing to learn, the other men of the town were working fields and tending to animals: too busy to learn of stories and fossils. Link idolized him, and as courageous as he was, he often lost it when he wanted to ask if perhaps Eagus felt the same as he did now when he was Link's age.

"Stay with me, lad! Go pick out something for yerself." Eagus called, tugging thick leather gloves over his hands. Link nodded again, walking past the wall of weapons to the back room. Setting in a chest alone he pulled out the simple metal sword. It reminded him of the short sword said to have been protected by the Kokiri, though this one seemed to have been made to suit the more average sized hylian. Link pulled his gloves from the bag over his shoulder, tugging them over his fingers and slipping the sword into the loop of his belt. Walking back into the main hall, Eagus rolled his eyes.

"Figures, you got a favorite."

"Naturally. It just feels right, I'm used to it; it was the first real sword you let me use." Link beamed. That'd been years already, back when he'd still been in school.

"You've really grown into it, kiddo." Eagus' booming voice filled with some pride, patting the young blond on the shoulder. "Ya know, you can hang onto that old thing if you like it so much. Rusl probably has more interesting things at the house, but I know I'm sentimental about items like that." The room around them was proof enough. Link's blue eyes widened and jaw fell open.

"But Eagus—"

"Consider it a late birthday gift! Just don't blame me if you start hoarding weapons too."

Link smiled again, cheeks and ears feeling warm as he blushed. His thumb brushed over the hilt of the blade at his side, attached to his hip, just as it felt best.

"I think dad would be the first to blame for it."

"No joke! Speaking of, go tell the old coot that you and I will be out in the fields. I'll grab us some lunch for the road."

"Yes sir," Link nodded, making his way back out the door.

"And don't run around waving that sword!" Eagus' voice echoed in the auditorium as Link pushed the doors open. The young man waved his hand back through the portal, having heard, but mind already on a million other things.

The gangly fellow tripped over his feet, the large shoe over his foot nearly flying down the cobble path. He righted himself with a flustered squawk, regaining his grip over the bag in his hands. He wandered under the shaded canopy of the tavern.

"Got it, Ghirahim. Only the best!" The fellow pushed the tight hood covering his head back, revealing the ginger fringe over a white and teal forehead. The shadows were much easier to handle, and the damn thing had to be much too warm! He handed over the bag to the other figure, their hip cocked against the wood wall where they leaned. The silhouette was lithe and muscular, not weighed down by baggy trousers or heavy working gloves. Instead the gloves were like a second skin, as were the trousers pulled tight over his frame. The only level of cover was the mantle bunched over his shoulders and falling over his chest and back behind him. One of the gloves was tugged off with his teeth as he took the bag.

"Very good, Zant. I can't wander around town at any measure less than flawless." The local Lord, Ghirahim, mused, withdrawing the small tube from within the bag. He brushed his thumb over it, assessing the color, and finding it satisfactory. He turned his chin upwards to the hanging metal sign next to the pair, using the tube and drawing violet under his eyelid. The pale gangly man shuffled on his feet, kneading his fingers together under his baggy sleeves.

"What do we do for the rest of today? Do you want to go for a hunt, or browse the shops? Or—"

"Shush!" Ghirahim pointed a finger at the face of the twili, having just put the glove back onto it. His eyes slid past Zant to the bustling street behind them, and quick as a blink the Lord was leaning against the corner of the building: arms folded over his chest, shoulders leveled, an ankle delicately crossed over the other. Zant narrowed his eyes and turned over his shoulder as they heaved in a sigh.

"Don't look too long, twili, you may upset me." Ghirahim said breathily, though the threat held more seriousness than jest. "He's just lovely, isn't he?" Zant made one of his odd noises in his throat. At least he knew that answering was unwise. "Absolutely stunning. So much passion and courage bundled up in that little shape. He's practically burning up with energy. I'd like to tear him apart and see it burn and put him back together again." Ghirahim's voice nearly fell into a growl as his dark colored eyes followed the figure making his way toward the east town gate, on his way back up to that little cottage over the hill. And he hadn't even taken his eyes from the clouds and windows to notice Ghirahim or his glorious body! Ghirahim kept his chin high in front of his compatriot, brushing the curtain of white hair away from one side of his face and straightening his stance. "Someday soon, I'll just sweep him off his feet."

"Vaati would leap into your arms at the suggestion. Why the sword smith's boy?" Zant murmured through his needled teeth. Nearly every day he had to deal with this borderline obsession. The twili recoiled as Ghirahim turned himself sharply in his direction.

"He is the only one that is nearly as beautiful as myself, with such a stunning physique and powerful form! He thirsts for battle and is in awe of legends and power. He's the only one suitable for me, and I deserve the best." The new violet liner under his eyes made them more piercing, the curtain of hair and canopy of the building making the shadows cross over Ghirahim's face. Zant was likely taller than the other man, but in such moments he nearly cowered before him at such a glower. The twili nodded multiple times, his sleeved hands clutched to his chest until Ghirahim returned to his straight-backed posture.

"Excellent. I'll think of a plan shortly, before winter."

"Plan?" Zant looked up as the canvas bag was tossed back into his arms. Ghirahim chuckled airily as he headed back into the light of day, not waiting for the twili to readjust the cowl over his head. His long legs made a beeline for the intercepting path in front of the town gates, his stride falling into step with Link's before he impeded the path completely. Link stopped short, just barely avoiding bumping into the other man, but he was always quick to react, the clever little thing.

"Afternoon, Link."
"Afternoon, Ghirahim." And if his name didn't sound almost perfect coming from the young blond. If only he could be indulged by his full title. Ghirahim tilted his chin as the boy continued walking, though—

Link stopped as he felt something slip from his waist, turning to see Ghirahim now wielding the sword in his hand. His eyes scanned over it crudely, some obvious distaste. He looked a bit ridiculous holding a sword clearly not built for someone his size. Link tried to hide the frown as he reached for the handle.

"Ghirahim, may I have that—"

"What are you going to do with a silly toy like this? Cut grass?" The man put his other hand over his hip, turning in such a way that Link couldn't reach the blade. The sun glinted off the steel as Ghirahim scrutinized.

"Just because it doesn't look the greatest doesn't mean it can't do the job." Link folded his arms in front of him. Best let the Lord get whatever thought he had out of his system. Ghirahim chuckled, flipping the sword in his hand and catching in between his fingers by the blade. Link felt his heart nearly leap from his chest at the action, but it only made the Lord's grin widen.

"Oh, Link. You really shouldn't be running off in the wild, and not with cheap toys like this. Your talents would be much better served thinking about more important things." He flicked his wrist and the sword left his grip, stabbing itself into the soft patch of soil breaking through the loose cobble path. Link stepped around to retrieve the blade just to have Ghirahim lean his elbow on the hilt, further driving it into the ground. His implication was left unspoken, though Link raised an eyebrow. With a huff, Ghirahim returned to his full height, and Link drew the sword from the ground. He shook off some of the dirt and slid it back through his belt loop. When he refused to speak again, Ghirahim filled the gap.

"Come now, the whole town talks about this little foolish obsession of yours. It's not right for a boy your age to run playing swords and daydreaming about some fantasy land."

"Well, that sounds completely primal of you, Ghirahim." Link remarked, adjusting his bag back over his shoulder. He hoped Eagus wasn't going to be kept waiting…though he did normally get his soup blazing hot, it'd take enough time to get it that way.

"Ah, thank you. Why don't I show you around my manor and show you what real weaponry looks like, and the beasts they've slain." The Lord hooked an arm over Link's shoulder, ushering him from the gate. Link stumbled a few steps before ducking, freeing himself from the hold.

"Maybe another time, I've got to speak with my father and help Eagus." Ghirahim put his hands back on his hips, as if the look he was giving the blond would change his mind. Link was already dead set on not taking up the offer, if the Lord's embellished stories of bloodshed and grandeur were just as false as he imagined. Zant stumbled over next to him shortly, the cowl successfully pulled over his head as he heard the last bit of their talk.

"Heh, Rusl and Eagus are two crazy beans in a pod. They need all the help they can get." Ghirahim chuckled as well, though Zant downright howled with his giggles. Link turned back to face them, the frown no longer held back.

"Don't talk about them like that!"

"Yes, don't talk about them like that!" Ghirahim sneered, quickly changing tact and backhanding the side of Zant's head. Link grit his teeth but clenched his hands at his sides.

"My father isn't crazy, he's a great swordsmith, and Eagus—" Link stopped short as the loud clattering and falling of metal sounded over the side of the hill. He turned his eyes back to the path leading to his home, holding the sword steady over his hip and running out the gates. Ghirahim and Zant broke into laughter again as Link fled. Was his father alright? He'd probably knocked over the supply shelves again! What if he was injured? His boots thundered up the path as he made his way around the side of the house, pulling open the wooden cellar doors. There was more clattering and cursing pouring through as he made his way down.

"Father?" Link looked around in the dim light. His foot kicked the lantern that had fallen from its hook. He picked it up and relit it, holding it to illuminate the room. The supply shelf had knocked itself over, and Rusl pulled himself cursing from beneath his worktable. "Are you alright?" Link hung the lantern back up as he made his way over to his father.

"Link! Yes, fine, just this damn thing…" He murmured and thumbed back. "I was working and the lantern fell and then just, well." He dusted his hands off on the apron over his waist. Link breathed a sigh of relief that raw materials had just fallen, and not the various and ominous weaponry on their holders. While Rusl was commissioned to make swords from time to time, many times he was used by the townspeople to repair their farming equipment. To ease his own boredom of the simple metal working, he let his imagination come forth in the spare time. He'd crafted some sort of double-ended mace, taller than Link. He'd imitated what his son described as a "huge farm sickle" from stories befitting a specter, the blade adorned with thorny metal supports. He crafted shields with holes for their user to brandish spears from, and others that were more like walking Deku Scrubs.

He had been commissioned for a very special piece, too, and Link looked back to the work bench to see if it was undamaged. A beautiful sword rested on the table, the steel nearly white it was polished so well. The hilt flared out like wings, a deep indigo, the hilt a mixture of opalescent colors, meant to be wielded one-handed. Link's eyes always lit up when he saw his father working on it, and the shield to match already lay covered and wrapped. Any day now, they'd be out of this workshop. He almost felt sad, but it wasn't every day a small town smith got hired by the neighboring kingdom for a decorative piece. It wasn't meant for battle, but it definitely had to look the part. The scabbard just needed the final touches of golden spirals and etchings. Rusl must have still been talking, because when Link looked up from the work he was smiling fondly at him.

"I know, kiddo. This thing is gonna change our lives, don't you worry."

While it wasn't exactly what was on Link's mind, he nodded in agreement. The money would help his father out more than Link could if he herded goats.

"It's beautiful, father. They'll love it."

"Nothing like a good sword to hang on a rich guy's wall." He smiled, looking back at the blade. "You've helped me a lot with his, Link. You know more about swords than I do, and I make the things. I'm proud of you." Link's ears tingled as they likely turned red at the praise. His eyes fell instead to the racks of swords along the far wall.

"You don't think I'm odd, do you?"

"The nut falls far from the tree, does it?" Rusl smiled, pushing his protective eyewear further up his brow. His hair stuck up like a frazzled Remlet. Link couldn't stop the smile even with his words.

"I'm going out in the fields to help Eagus get rid of some ChuChus."

"Good! Take care of yourself, kiddo. I'm just getting ready to head out." Link's eyes widened, and Rusl chuckled. "Well of course! It's already that time, son. It's a two day travel to the castle. I was just putting on the final touches to this beauty when the shelves fell." He clapped his heavy-gloved hand on Link's shoulder, shaking him where he stood. "You can take care of yourself for a few days. I'll probably be on the road by the time you and Eagus get back tonight."

"I didn't realize—"

"It's fine, boy! You live your life. It's good for you. By the time I'm back you'll be waiting to send me off again."

"Never." Link smiled, holding his arms apart. Rusl beat him to it and pulled him forward into a crushing hug. He was finally released and Rusl unknotted his apron.

"Eagus loves to see you, just don't overwork him or yourself. The town would love to get your energy helping them out."

"I don't exactly have many friends in town, father. They think I'm odd, too."

"What about that Ghirahim gent? He hangs around you a lot, and sounds like he likes fighting and legends, too." Link felt himself hold back a groan.

"Picking fights and legends about himself, maybe." Rusl hummed, the sound of the sword being sheathed in the scabbard filling the cellar. Link wasn't even sure the words were absorbed. His father did often distance himself from the townspeople, only close with their baker, butcher, and Eagus. All he heard about the local Lord was probably things he'd heard on those nights at the Tavern with Eagus, and it was the local hang-out of the egotistical man when he was in town. The place lifted him up on some diamond-decorated throne, so there was surely only praise for him heard within the walls.

"Well, still, don't lock yourself up in this shack all week. You're young, not some old secluded codger like me." Rusl set about cleaning his tools and packing them away.

"Do you want me to get the cart?"

"I can get it, I'm not that old. You might want to say goodbye to Epona before we go." Link nearly gasped at the thought, his feet carrying him back out of the cellar with the echoing chuckles from his father. He turned to the other side of the house and hopped over the wooden fence to the small stable. Epona nickered and shook her head as Link speedily stepped into the hutch with her, grabbing the brush from the wall.

"Hey girl. Ready for your big trip?" He cooed, working on brushing her studiously. Epona bumped her head against his, eliciting another chuckle. He'd helped raise her as a foal, and by now she practically was Link's horse. She only let Link ride her, though she was well-behaved for Rusl, he simply rode along with the cart when he needed to travel. It had been a long time since she had gone to the castle itself (for living in Castle Town, it was a far cry from the actual city), but she should have no trouble finding the way with Rusl. He brushed her and told her about his lesson the night before, the sword he'd been given, and the one his father would be delivering. She was close enough to someone that he could talk to, solidifying his father's worry of being some recluse in the woods.

"Behave for father, girl. You'll be back before you know it. And the castle market sells the very best carrots." Epona neighed, the sound itself blowing back the bangs in Link's face as he chuckled and rubbed his forehead against hers. With a final pat he made his way out of the stable, making sure the pen was closed and heading down the path into town once again. He waved to his father as he saw him taking his bags out from the house and into their small cart. He still smiled and brushed his hand over the small hilt of his new sword, making his way back into the town to rejoin Eagus. He was ready to live a little, in the only way he really knew.

A/N: Next chapter we might actually get somewhere. I had this idea enter my head one night and I was tossing around character ideas. If there's any scenes from the Disney movie you'd like to see I'd be glad to hear it-as it is there's some parts I need to totally rewrite or remove with this idea I have going.