I don't own the Legend of Zelda.

The Sunrise of my Life

When I was little, I thought I could grow up and be a horse. It was the last thing my mother told me before she died. Well, not exactly.

I was about five years old, and Mommy had been sick for awhile. She looked at me, and told me, "Darling, please don't worry about me. You can be whatever you want… just as long as you follow your heart. Promise me you will."

I promised, because I knew what I wanted. Mommy kissed my forehead.

"There's a good girl." She said, smiling weakly. Suddenly the smile slipped off her face as she began to cough.

"Malon! Malon, get out of here!" My father Talon shouted. He very firmly pulled me away from my mother, and kneeled down next to her in my steed.

"My girl… don't…" Dad murmured to Mommy. I could hear him sobbing.

"Talon… just take good care of her…" Mommy's voice was getting weaker. She coughed without warning, and some spots of blood landed on the floor.

I gasped. Dad turned and looked at me. "Malon, I told you to get out!" He yelled. I didn't need to be told again.

I ran out of our house, and into the field. I flung myself against a tree, sobbing, not knowing why my mother was going to leave me. Not knowing why Daddy, who was usually so kind, had just yelled at me.

I stayed outside until it was dark, and I was afraid. But I was more afraid to go home. So I curled up under that tree, and fell asleep.

Apparently minutes after I fled from the farmhouse, my mother died. And my father found himself in hysterics. Hours passed, and he eventually realized that I had not returned.

It was a little after dawn when he came to search for me. He found me curled up under that tree, expecting me to be ill from the night's cold, already berating himself. But he was surprised to find that a number of rabbits and squirrels had piled themselves on me, keeping me warm.

For several years after my mother's death, my father tried to run the farm by himself. Our ranch went from pristine to pathetic, and there was little I, a skinny seven year old, could do. I fed the horses and cows, and cleaned them everyday. But there was many animals, and just one me.

So when I was eight, Dad hired Ingo.

Dad interviewed him out in the barnyard while I milked one of the cows. "So, what do you know about animals?"

"I know… that girl isn't milking that cow right!" He looked at my father. "May I?"

Dad thought for a moment. "Why not? Malon-" before he could say anything else, Ingo had already made his way over to me, and shoved me out of the way.

"Out of the way, girl."

"Hey!" I cried as I skinned my elbow against the wood wall. I could already feel splinters in it.

Ingo paid no attention and began to, I admit, expertly milk the cow. In half the time he had as much milk as there had been originally in the pail.

Dad looked mildly impressed. "All right, you seem to have knack with the animals. But I've one condition if I hire you on."

"What's that?" Ingo narrowed his dark eyes to slits.

Dad put his hand protectively on my shoulder. "Don't ever act like that towards Malon again."

Ingo looked at me, with an expression that was hard to read. "No. Of course not."

Ingo never did… in front of my father. When it was me and him in the barn, he would shove me against the wall, or on the floor, for not doing something the right way.

"You fell, if your father asks," He spat at me, as I shook on the floor. "Even think of telling him and you'll wish you were dead."

Dead. Just like Mommy.

My only solace was with the animals. I could curl up next to my favorite mare, Pepper, and she would keep me safe. I'd wake up smelling just like a horse colt, complete with pieces of hay in my hair.

Father would moan when he saw me like that. "Malon," he would say, "Must you sleep in with the horses? You have a bed in the house."

"But Daddy, the horses make me feel safe!" I said. He looked at me, with a mixture of love and a little bit of pity. After Mommy died, he could deny me nothing. He thought for a moment.

"Alright, Malon. But let me make you a loft in the barn, so that you've at least got a bed. Promise me you'll sleep in it?"

I threw my arms around his neck. "Oh Daddy! Thank you so much!" He laughed, and I loved to hear him laugh.