Chapter 2

Link's mother sees him off the next day with tears in her eyes. "You're just like your father," she says, as if it were a bad thing.

"I love you, too, Mom," he tells her.

She hugs him, hard, and holds his head between her hands. "You look just like him, too."

Link pulls gently at her wrists, but she stands on tip-toe and he sighs and bends so she can kiss him on the head. When she does let go, Link's hair is coming loose of its tie and he has to fuss with it for a minute more.

He has to run to the office.


Behind the office is a training ground.

When Link shows up, he's lead there with the others, a group of trainees his age, who are tested individually to see what weapon they'll take up. Link is given a wooden sword and shield, since he's never held one before in his life, but watches the archers with a jealous eye.

Then he's put through drills that leave him aching and panting. He's certainly not out of shape, but his arms and legs begin to shake by noon.

Apparently Link's grip is too hard or too loose, his stance too rigid or too relaxed, his stab lazy or over-exerting. He can't bring his shield arm up fast enough, he can't parry the blows that come too quickly, can't land a single hit on his instructor. He's mottled with bruises and on his knees by sunset.

Link assures himself the others are just as bad, that he can't be that terrible. After all, he's the one to cut and fetch the firewood for his street. He's strong enough to reduce a tree to splinters and to do so all day, once a week, and bring back the remains. He's not in bad shape.

Either way, Link's muscles scream as he trudges home.


Link returns to training the next day, nevertheless. He's aching all over, especially since he had to haul firewood for another three hours the day before. He notes that there are less people than yesterday. Specifically, two girls and three boys haven't returned.

At mid-day, as they're coming back outside from lunch, there are no instructors. Instead, the woman from the registration desk greets them, face red and brow sweaty. "Your training is cancelled until further notice," she says, and Link grits his teeth against the nasally sound of her voice.

She's probably a good person, he reminds himself.

"You may continue to practice here," the woman continues, raising her voice against the growing confused chatter of the group, "using the dummies or sparring with each other. Thank you for your attention." With that, she ducks back into the building.

A girl calls after her: "What gives?"

"I heard," sneers Drae, a boy wielding a two-handed sword, a weighted prop, having advanced ahead of everyone else, "that there's trouble."

"Yeah?" the girl, Lea, asks, turning towards him. Everyone has gone silent to listen. "What kinda trouble?"

"Well," Drae says, smiling at the attention. "Apparently, Hyrule Castle Town's been attacked and they needed reinforcements. Like our instructors."

The group explodes with voices, protests, questions. Drae stands among them, grinning like a fool.

"You know what we should do?" he says, louder. "We should go help."

Lea snorts. "And get killed? As if. You can barely hold a sword, boy."

Drae simply grins wider, slinging an easy arm across her shoulders. "Hey, I can fight better than most the soldiers in the Royal Guard."

Lea tries shrugging his arm off, fails. "Then why'd you fall square on your butt yesterday, eh, Mr. Soldier?"

People laugh and Drae's face darkens with a pale blush. "I was going easy on the guy. Didn't want him to feel bad in front of his friends, right? And, come on, you know what would happen if we helped and won?"

Lea frowns. "Well..."

"We'd get promoted, that's what."

"We'll get killed, that's what," she snaps.

"Okay, you know what?" Drae says. "We'll snipe them."

Lea simply laughs along with the others. Drae reddens further.

"Come on, guys," Lea says. "Let's leave Mr. Hero here to his death wish." Laughing, they spill from the training ground and through the office door.

Drae's plan and train of thought is just like his attack tactics, Link muses. He's known for blocking at the last possible second, hardly dodging, going out of his way to show off, pulling off acrobatic stunts as often as possible.

He's also one of the first to be out of breath. He's foolhardy.

Link would say something, but his face is flushed and he's thinking about the times Drae has made fun of him. Besides, who's to know certainly that Castle Town's been attacked? He could just arrive to a normal, bustling market. No use sticking his neck out for a plan obviously never even going to begin.

Drae sees Link standing there, wide eyed, and drops a helmet on his head none-too-kindly. "Get dressed, runt. We're playing Hero today."

Link's face goes blotchy-red. "B-But we could get killed—"

Drae's eyes are alive, sparking, and his face is pink with a forced grin. He laughs harshly. "Come on, wimp. Most soldiers come back from duty."

"Y-Yeah," Link stammers, "but they have numbers—"

"The Legendary Hero certainly didn't have numbers," Drae says, walking away. "And he was up against a Demon Lord."

Drae pulls chainmail from the shelves, tunics, gauntlets, a real, two-handed sword. And Link simply gawks at the helmet as he pulls it off.

It isn't a helmet, but a cap like his father used to wear, long and triangular, pale blue instead of green, the edge armored to protect the wearer's forehead and nose. By the time Link looks back up, Drae, along with everyone else, is gone. The gate swings on its hinges, left open by Drae when he left.

Drae will back out, he assures himself, glancing back down at the cap. He'll come back, realize the plan was faulty to begin with. Link wouldn't even feel terribly bad if Drae decided to mock him for staying behind. He would be alive and unharmed.

But, Link thinks, looking around, what to do to pass the time until then? He realizes he's forgotten his sword inside, curses his forgetful self, and runs to fetch it, tucking the cap under his arm absently.

Link pushes open the door. How long has it been since Drae's left? It's a two hour jog to Castle Town. He's probably only been gone for fifteen minutes. Link places the cap on a seat while he searches for his sword. It takes him a few minutes, but soon he's stabbing at a dummy.

Fifteen minutes pass. Thirty. Link glances at the gate Drae took, skirting the office building, but he doesn't return. Another fifteen minutes. Link abandons the sword, gut twisting with worry.

Where's the cap? he realizes, eyes darting around. Did he forget that in the office, too?

When Link ducks his head through the door, he spots the cap sitting on the chair he left it upon. He sighs and walks in.

"What are you doing?"

Link jumps, whirling around. It's the woman, again sitting at her desk. "I, uh, I—"

"Stop stuttering," she snaps. "Where is everybody?"

"Is it true that Castle Town's been attacked?" he blurts.

She blinks. "Where did you hear that?"

"Drae—Drae said it, before..."

"Before what?"

Link smiles hopelessly, ears reddening. "Before he left...?"

The woman freezes, eyes widening. "They did what?!" She jumps to her feet, runs for the door. "Oh, Hylia—!"

Link's tries saying that it's only Drae who went, but his voice catches in his throat.

She must see the missing weapon and armor, because she returns, face panicked. "Oh, Dear Hylia! I was wondering why that cap was here—Oh, Din!" She sprints out the front door.

Link stands, frozen, unblinking, hardly breathing. It's probably been two hours since the group left.

And Hyrule Castle Town really had been attacked.

Link doesn't know what to do, so he sits down, dazed, on a chair. He fidgets. He twiddles his thumbs. Plays with the pale blue fabric of the cap. Accidentally kicks his sword, sending it skittering across the floor, and gets down on all fours to retrieve it from where it stopped under the woman's desk. He flips the wooden sword, handle over blade, for a few minutes before realizing the woman won't be coming back today.

So Link gets to his feet. Puts the shield and sword back at their places. Where is Drae? Did something happen? He stares at the door as he closes it, concerned that he can't lock it, before letting go of the doorknob and trudging home in the dark, knowing he won't sleep tonight.


His mother is asleep when he comes home, and he leaves before she can wake up. He doesn't want to talk about it.

The door to the office is unlocked when Link gets there. The woman isn't here, but the desk is tidied up. Perhaps she left for the moment.

Link spots the cap on the same chair and is about to put it away, but then there's voices. He panics, grabs the cap and ducks out the back door and slides down to the ground against the wood.

"—he dead?" asks the woman's voices. Link can hear her rummaging in her desk.

"I'm sorry, ma'am," a man says, "but the...trainee, was he? He's dead."

There's the sound of a chair being pulled back suddenly freezing. "Are you sure? Did they...did they find the body?"

Link murmurs, "He's dead. Oh, Farore." But he can't be dead. Not Drae, who could barely keep his mouth shut. Oh, Goddesses, he's already thinking about him as a was.

"What about the others?"

"They stayed behind." The woman sighs. "I've checked where they're staying. They're alive."

"Who are they? Could I speak with them? It would be so helpfu—"

"Do so on your own time," the woman says, voice hard. "They have assignments, thanks to this incident. See?" There's the rustle of paper, the whisper of cloth.

"Oh." A beat. "Yes, I see. I'll talk to them when I can, then."

The front door opens. Footsteps, the clank of armor. Link's hopes rise. "I need—did I interrupt?"

Link deflates but has to resist the urge to peek through the window.

Why is Sepia here?


Tempest Bound: Uh, hello? ^^' Don't expect such quick updates. This was done, so I thought, why not?