Brilliant golden rays filtered through the slightly ajar curtains, streaming light onto the face of the youth who lie in his bed, swallowed up by the depths of slumber, and illuminating his pale skin with its might. However, this was no peaceful rest; the male's face was screwed up in what seemed to be a sense of unknown pain as his body writhed slightly under the rough blanket that was draped over his form. Though, thankfully, he had people around him who would know to awaken him if his dreams began to be too much for even him to handle, the build of a robust woman entering his room with concern etched into every pore of her cream skin. As she motioned towards the boy, the slither of sunlight caught on her silver hair, which was pulled back tightly behind her elongated pointed ears into a stubby ponytail, most likely to hold it out of the way during combat lessons with her adopted son. Her face also held sharp eyes, who's irises glinted a raging crimson that softened when they fell upon the male's disturbed slumber.

Taking care, she gently placed a hand to his cheek, the warmth of his skin tickling the nerves on her palms whilst the rest of his body seemed to gradually relax with the comfort given by his guardian, Impa. She was a proud member of the Sheikah tribe and had been raising him ever since he was merely a baby, brought to the ancient tribe by a desperate mother and father who feared for the life of their child. Knowing the father very well and wishing to aid him, Impa took the boy and raised him as her son, never keeping the truth of his origins from him; he was fully aware that he was not her own flesh and blood, though that never made any difference to either of them. As far as Impa was concerned, he was her son and no one would ever change that fact; with all of the effort that she'd put into raising the boy, there was no way that she'd ever let anyone take him from her now.

With a slight moan sounding from the back of his throat, the boy began to stir as Impa retracted her hand, a light smile playing on her full lips as she watched her son drag himself out of slumber, his eyelids quivering for a few seconds before they parted to reveal his scarlet irises, his pupils instantly shrinking as the sunlight attacked them with its harsh rays. To prevent the pain of being blinded for a few seconds, he merely squinted his eyes and raised his arm from under the covers to blot out the golden object that was so insistent on stealing his vision from him. However, he could once again lower his arm when Impa reached over and tugged the curtains to a full close, a gentle chuckle sounding from her mouth from the amusement of seeing her son being blinded by the light that he always forgot about every single morning.

Giving her a thankful smile, he proceeded to stretch out both of his arms until a light squealing was emitted from his throat, causing Impa's chuckling to grow into a hearty laugh, which instantly received a few irritated glares from the boy.

"Did you have a good sleep, Link?" She questioned him as he proceeded to peel the blanket from his body and swing his slim legs over the edge of the bed, extending them out as well in order to give them the same treatment as his arms, every one of his toes fanning out as he stretched each inch of his legs. After he was done, his hand found that familiar spot on the back of his neck, which he rubbed lightly whilst shaking his head in dismay, causing a sympathetic sigh to sound from Impa, who watched each move that her son made with concern constantly eating away at her.

Link wanted to tell her everything about the dream that had been pestering him for months now, ever since he turned 17 to be precise; they were beginning to get more and more detailed every time to the point where he was actually getting worried. It was always the same one, though, being images of many strange things that Link had never witnessed before, yet all of them felt oddly familiar, as if he'd seen them from somewhere other than his dreams. However the most potent feature formed the structure of three golden triangles that met at the tips, leaving the middle section empty and dark, unlike the rest of the symbol. He had no idea as to what it was, and he would never be able to ask out of fear that he wouldn't get any answers, even though he knew that Impa had them. She'd be able to explain everything in a heartbeat, could Link tell her about it briefly. Alas, due to not possessing a voice to use, Link had to go by issuing his requests with nothing more than a cucco feather and a shred of parchment, never being able to speak a word to those around him.

He hated not being able to talk; there were so many things that he wanted to say, however, he would never have the opportunity, which meant that his wishes would never be fulfilled. Also, to Link, having a voice meant everything; it's what makes up a person and identifies them as who they are, something that Link had missed out on his entire life. He was nothing more than the boy who couldn't speak his mind, making him an easy target for bullies and generally mean people who got a thrill out of teasing the only boy in the village who was unable to defend himself with the words that he craved to say. They'd never understand what it felt like to be him. Still, years had passed this way and Link had gotten used to all of the name calling, teasing and snide remarks; he no longer allowed them to harm him and managed to build up a barrier that never failed in shielding him from their spite any more. He was who he was and, no matter how much he wished otherwise, nothing about that fact would ever alter.

Knowing that Impa would soon get concerned about his sudden mood drop, Link quickly rose to his feet, smoothing over the blanket until it lie on the bed without any sort of ridges or creases in the fabric at all, just like he'd been taught by the only mother figure that he'd ever had. "Link, just because you can't speak, it doesn't mean that I can't understand you. There's something troubling you, I can tell," Impa murmured whilst Link begun to wind the bandages that he wore each day around the entirety of his arms until each inch was covered in the white material, not permitting any space for skin to be displayed in the slightest. He then repeated this process with his legs as well, allowing the fabric to snake up them and once again shroud them until they were completely wrapped up with no shred of tan to be seen.

His attempts to ignore Impa's statement failed when she gripped him roughly by the shoulder whilst he went about equipping himself, plastering two knives to his forearms, one on the underside of his right arm and the other on the outside of his left, an extra layer of bandages securing them in place and acting as a sheath for the blades. "Link, don't ignore me!" He could easily detect that agitated tone in her voice as she longed to worm her way into his head to discover the things that went on inside there during the time of his slumber. However, no matter how much he wanted to allow her in, he was reluctant to do so in fear of how she'd react; though he couldn't explain it, it felt as if these dreams actually meant something. Why else would it be the same one every single night for the past few months?

Disobeying his mother, Link merely separated himself from the mattress and proceeded to bundle up his clothes in his arms, being the typical Sheikah clothing that he wore each and every day to remind everyone that his place was with them; by the way that some of them spoke about him, you'd think that they'd never accept him as one of their own no matter what he did to try to convince them otherwise. He retreated from the room in order to change, leaving a very frustrated Impa behind in the process. As much as he hated going against her words, there were just some things that were better left unsaid and unknown; the last thing that he wanted was his own mother turning her back on him after piecing together what his dreams had been screaming at him. Yet, no matter how hard they tried to convince him, he'd never believe them; none of what they continued to say would ever be true! Because, in his dream, his eyes were not scarlet; they were blue.

"Link!" The voice of a perky female sang through the village as Link exited from his house, the lingering feeling of dismay still attached to him from the disagreement that he and Impa had had just a few moments ago. However, he wasn't going to let it bother him too much; he had something planned for today that would wipe away all of the negativity within him to create space for the awe that he was bound to feel when the moment finally arrived. For now, though, he was occupied with a silver-haired girl who came bounding towards him with a wide grin stretched over her face, her right arm instantly locking itself around Link's left as she giggled at his mock irritation. "Morning," she chirped with a beaming smile, her freckled-splattered face turning to look at Link until he could easily point out the amber flecks that lie within her crimson irises, something that could only ever be seen up close whenever she decided to latch herself onto him.

Giving her a light nod in reply, he retracted his arm and began his walk to the Graveyard just outside of town; if he was lucky, then the object that he was after obtaining would still be stored there from the last time that he used it, the Graveyard being the perfect hiding place as no one would ever think to search for a Stone Mask within an area filled with Tombstones. Obviously, the female, who Link knew as Lizette, toddled after him as she did most days, aware of Link's monthly routine and what he tended to do after a 'fight' with Impa. And, though he couldn't speak in any way, she could just tell from the aura surrounding him that he wasn't in the best of moods, most likely being troubled by his dreams again that Lizette had often read about when Link wrote them out in detail. She was the only person in the entire village who knew about his dreams, however, she had no idea as to what they meant since she was still new to the art of using the Sight.

When they finally reached the Graveyard, Lizette let out an audible shiver and her body quivered for emphasis, just to notify Link that she wouldn't be following him any further; when you're able to use the Sight, places such as this become even eerier, given that she was able to hear the voices of the long dead crying out and moaning for the attention that they would never receive. Understanding that it would make her uncomfortable, Link merely proceeded forward, leaving Lizette by the entrance whilst she nervously shifted every now and then, the feeling of being constantly watched invading her senses randomly and without warning, as Link dove deeper and deeper into the depths of the dead.

It didn't take long for Link to locate what he was looking for, the slate-coloured surface of the mask blending with the murky stone that it was tucked behind just so that he could be sure that no one would ever find it; this thing was his only ticket out of this suffocating village that no one, no matter who it may be, would ever let him leave. He had no idea as to why, however, he couldn't help but just want to break free from the grip of this place, especially after he'd argued with Impa and left the house on bad terms with her; he just wanted to get away for a while to venture out into the world that lie outside of his humble home-town.

After he'd scooped his arm down to retrieve the Stone Mask, he tucked it into his belt to hold it in place whilst he continued to scrape up his pitch cloak that mingled with the shadows and remained out of sight to anyone who wasn't already aware of its presence. Flinging the fabric over his shoulders, Link fixed the silver clasp that bore the symbol of the Sheikah over his chest until the material hung loosely on his thin body, enveloping most of his torso in its darkness. In order to conceal more of himself, he flicked up the hood as he retreated back to Lizette's side, who's eyes remained locked on him at all times with a tint of disapproval to her scarlet irises. She had never been comfortable with Link going against the rules that had been set down by the people who's only goals were to protect him, however, she also wasn't too intent on standing in his way since she knew that Link would always find a way to wriggle his way out. He was just that kind of guy.

When he joined her with a satisfied smile, he was now cradling the Stone Mask in the palm of his right hand in preparation to fix it onto his face, which would then cloak him from sight, further allowing him to leave the village without being noticed. Usually, Link kept the mask on even when he reached Castle Town out of the fear that the people there wouldn't allow him in due to him being a member of the Shadow People. However, by now, most of the guards knew Link quite well and tended to greet him warmly, the effects of the mask a little weaker on them as they'd gotten to know his secrets from the sheer amount of times that he'd fled to the town from the suffocation of Kakariko. "Be careful, Link. Come back safely, got it?" Lizette ordered in a somewhat scolding voice, as if she were a stern older sibling who was constantly trying to contain a young child who always refused to do as he was told, desperate to break free from the chains that held him back. In that sense, that's exactly what Link was in her eyes; she'd known him ever since he had been brought into the tribe and she honestly felt like his older sister, even though they weren't related by blood in the slightest. It was just one of those bonds that no one can understand.

After rolling his eyes at her statement, Link jammed the Stone Mask onto his face, giving one final apologetic look to Lizette before he faded from her vision, soon to become as noticeable as a stone just as the effects of the mask entailed. Though you'd think that, after years of seeing him use this method of concealment, along with the Sight, Lizette would still be able to detect Link underneath the powers of the mask. However, the fact that it was born from the magic of the shadows meant that the effects were always stronger around the race of the sculptors, making this the perfect asset for Link's escape since the Sheikah were the ones responsible for the Stone Mask's existence.

Not taking a moment to hesitate, Link swept away out of the Graveyard and instantly headed for the exit of the village, one that would lead him out of this secluded place and into a world of light and vastness that he'd never be able to experience unless he took risks like these; though many people could be fooled by the mask's power, it would only be natural for Impa to be immune to its effects. With this in mind, Link continued his silent dash until the scent of the crisp air and emerald grass tickled his nose as he rapidly parted ways from the place that he called his home. He knew deep down that he didn't belong in the darkness; he always felt much more at ease when out on the open plains where the light shone brilliantly and proudly beamed on all surfaces with its might. If only others could realize this as well; Link wished for nothing more than to earn a shred of freedom where he didn't have to sneak about around the people that he cared about. However, knowing that he'd never be permitted to have what he wanted, this was the only way that he'd ever be able to touch the light.

A/N

So yes, as you may have already guessed by now, I'm going to be taking on the challenge of having Link as a mute throughout this book (well, most of it *wink wink*)

I'm having so much fun writing this story and I really can't wait to get some feedback from all of you lovely readers; you guys inspire me to write more when I should be reading a really boring book for Literature x'D

Even still, make sure to fave, follow and comment and I'll see you all in the next chapter when Link meets someone very extraordinary within the depths of Castle Town :O

Peace out, my lovely peeps XxX