AN: I don't own any of these characters and blah, blah, blah. This was a rather strange concept that took a good couple years to come to fruition. It was as canon as I could make it, and...yeah. I have a problem with knowing which pronoun to use in which situation, which will become apparent in later chapters, so helpful critiques on that would be more than welcome. Other than that, I hope you all enjoy my strange little brain child.
7 Oddities and 1 Thing That Wasn't Odd at All
The First Odd Thing
When Mayor Bo and old man Cernod found him splashing in the shallows of Ordon Spring with no trace of anyone around for miles, they became concerned. They brought the toddler back to the village and began asking him where his parents were. For all of their troubles all they received were blank stares and a heap of silence. Eventually, Cernod took the child home for the night, hoping that some word about the guardians of the small blue eyed boy would come to them.
Two things quickly became apparent though. One was that whether they had left the child at the spring, or they were lost to the beasts of the wood, no one was coming for the small boy. The second thing was that the boy never spoke, not even to give his name. It was old man Cernod, the now official guardian of the boy, that gave him the name Link. If anyone thought the name was strange, they didn't question it, and it wasn't so uncommon for children to be named after the great Hero of Time.
What didn't become apparent, and wouldn't for a good many years, was that Link could talk. For some reason though, his mind would form the words, but they never quite found enough of a reason to leave his mouth. He never knew what happened to his parents, and he liked his new name more than his old one and quickly forgot it. So there was never enough of a reason to really protest his new life and name.
Sometimes, when he would sit there and try to force the words out, the thought that, 'he never liked me to talk,' would cross his mind, confusing him greatly. Every 'he' he had ever met would always try to make him talk, not the other way around. He would eventually shake the strange thought from his head and get on with his day, but the periods between the failed attempts grew longer and longer each time until he just stopped trying all together. Really, it was just more comfortable not talking anyways.