o much to Twilit-Dusk, Fergaze, Wingdings13, Twilight3110, Victini 7, and Brass Cogs for all the reviews, follows, and favourites! It definitely means a lot to me and helps boost my motivation to keep the chapters coming quick. The chapters might be coming quicker than I had first planned, hopefully you guys will really enjoy them. Firing up my inspiration is the real problem here. Also, if you can't tell, I love irony. Mostly verbal irony, but all this dramatic irony is A plus too. Btw, who else is pumped for BotW? I sure am! Preordered it in January (aka as soon as I could) so I would be able to get it on the 3rd. Hope you guys enjoy it as well, I'm gonna live on my wii u over spring break. (We've been waiting for years to play it, who wouldn't wanna play it for days straight?). Currently its 1AM my time and I just finished this so enjoy.

Chapter 3

Morning came far too soon for Rusl. Luckily for him, the tired man had finally convinced his wife that he was in no danger of getting seriously ill. He stood outside looking upon the crystallized village. The morning had arrived with a thin blanket of snow from the storm that blew in over the night, the beautiful flakes glistening in the early sun. The storm didn't stay for long, the village was in no danger of excessive snowfall thankfully. Colin was outside with him, shivering slightly, yet still filled with awe. The crystalline appearance of the village was entrancing to the young boy. He wasted little time in running off into the snow, enjoying it before it melted later in the day.

Rusl stayed near his house, stretching in the growing sunlight. Despite his lack of sleep, that day had started out well enough. Being able to move around and work was a relief to the man. It would feel good to use his muscles. Before long he was already heading to Bo's house. The man always had something for Rusl to do, rarely running out of tasks to gift him with. Upon arriving at the Mayor's house he was greeted with an anxious Ilia. As soon as Ilia had opened the door, Rusl could see Bo get up and immediately make his way to the other man.

"Rusl, have you seen Link?" he asked, pulling said man inside and closing the door. "Ilia was dropping something off for him when she noticed he wasn't home."

With a smile he shook his head. "I'm sure he's alright. He did this a lot when Hyrule was in danger. Knowing him he's likely headed home right now."

"Why would he stay out so late?" Ilia inquired, stepping in with curiosity.

Not fully knowing the answer Rusl shrugged. "He likes to wander, don't worry too much about it." He patted Ilia on the shoulder and grinned at Bo. The boy really did enjoy wandering, his heart was always set for the next journey.

Having settled the matter, the mayor informed him of several of the villagers requiring an extra hand in prepping for the winter. He accepted the task dutifully, gladly making his way out of the house to assist those that needed it. Getting back into the normalcy of village life wasn't just difficult for Link. Rusl had spent a long time away from everyone as well, helping around definitely helped the transition. Any opportunity to help was quickly snatched up by him or the hero. More often than not Rusl was the one to take the job. Link deserved to take a long break from basically everything. The only tasks Rusl made absolute sure the young man got were the ones that had to be done outside the village, giving him an opportunity to help the village and have a breath of freedom. Thinking about him made the older man recall what he had thought the day before. He really did need to talk to Link, many things seemed to be bothering the youth. Hopefully he wouldn't be too tired from staying out so late to talk to his mentor later.

Sure it felt good to use his muscles again, but it was still plenty tiring. While he had gladly accepted the request for help, he was starting to regret. He was still a little weak from being ill and stuck at home. With a huff he popped his pack, ready to lift another box for Sera when Colin suddenly began to head toward him. He had seen his boy a couple times that day, either playing or training. Rusl knew that Colin had been squirming with anticipation all day, wanting noon to come faster so that he could have his riding lesson with Link. A quick glance at the sky told him that it was already past noon. Slightly confused he met him halfway.

"What's wrong son?"

"I can't find Link anywhere, has he been helping you out or something?" Colin's asked, his small pout barely visible. He felt miffed about Link not showing up for his lesson, it was important to him.

Rusl paused before responding, "No, I don't think anyone has seen him today. Are you sure he isn't in bed or anything?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I've searched everywhere for him, I can't find him."

A spark of concern flashed in Rusl's mind. Without another word he headed toward Link's tree-house, Colin close behind. He climbed the ladder swiftly, reaching the door he knocked several times. The following silence lasted a minute, no noise coming from within the house. Tentatively he open the door, peering in before striding through the open doorway. Looking around he saw no sign of the young man, his bed on the loft looked like it had hardly been slept in.

"Are you sure you've looked everywhere Colin?" He asked, gently grasping his son's shoulders.

The boy nodded immediately. "I've been looking for him since noon, he said he was going to have our lesson then."

Letting go of Colin, he looked around the empty house again. The growing pit of concern in his gut was growing, Link had pretty much promised to be back by noon. The young man was not known to break his promises, especially when it came down to Rusl and his family. Running a hand down his face, he held his chin in thought.

Standing off to the side, Colin looked at his father with uncertainty. Several questions were fluttering in his head. It was likely that Link had gotten caught up in his errand, but at the same time just as unlikely. The boy wanted to know what his father was thinking about the situation, it was a slightly baffling situation, especially to the young boy. The silence dragged on for maybe a minute before Rusl finally broke it.

"I'm going to look for him, he's probably safe, but it would be better for me to check." he stated bluntly, "Go back home Colin, I'm going to inform Mayor Bo about this before I leave"

Obediently the boy left the almost empty house, sparing a glance behind his shoulder as he headed down the path to the village. Rusl was worried, he could tell that much. Both of them were silently hoping everything would turn out alright. While Colin had faith in Link returning safely, the dream that Rusl had made the man wary. It would be better to look for the young man.

Barely an hour later, Rusl was already on the path that he assumed Link had followed. He had packed light, just his sword and shield would do as long as he had a red potion to spare. The worry nagging at his mind fluctuated, increasing and shrinking as his thoughts swirled. Every now and then he would call for the young man, shouting his name. With a hopeful heart each time he would listen to it carry out loud and clear, only for his own voice to return in an echo. His hope would shrink a little bit each time, but he pressed on. The air was slowly becoming more frigid as the day went on, the frozen ground beneath Rusl's feet was hard and tracks were rare. To the best of his abilities he kept his eye out for any sign of the hero, his ears open to any sound that wasn't his own feet crushing fallen leaves.

Waking up isn't a pleasant thing in the first place, but when one wakes up to the piercing agony of cold sharp metal digging into their leg, that's a whole new level of "unpleasant". A sharp cry escaped Link as he tried to move at all. Okay, unpleasant was definitely an understatement. A shudder ran through the hero, his thoughts in shambles as he tried to process what was going on. A pained groan caught in his throat as he assessed his injuries. Quite a few things hurt (his leg being one), everything felt bruised, and...He was covered in fur. Yes, fur. Any outrage that bubbled in his conscious was snuffed out as he heard a voice ring out. Not good. Pain could wait, Link needed to get away from that area. If anyone found a "monster" like him caught in a trap, he'd be killed in a heartbeat.

Standing was a feat that made killing Ganondorf seem easy, a low whine had been building up with each movement. Everything hurt, but at least he could move. Shaking some of the dizziness from his head, he looked at the mess his leg was in. Sweet Nayru it was bloody. His hind leg was clamped firmly in the teeth of one of his traps. The only thing saving it from being cut clean off was the hilt of his sword. Great, it appeared that fate only wished to maim him, not make him permanently impaired. That was definitely comforting... not. Deep, but superficial lacerations covered him in many places, puncture wounds as well. Just thinking about the extent of his wounds caused him growl, glaring slightly at the dead body of one of the wolves nearby.

The cold, unforgiving ground numbed some parts of his wounds, making his next task just a little easier. With as much precision as he could muster with 2 paws and canine teeth he grasped his sword. The blade was still within its scabbard, making it easier to hold. Bracing the part of the hilt within the trap against one side of the trap he used the sword as a lever. The entire time Link held a grimace as he pulled the sword towards himself, the teeth of the trap slowly seperating. What felt like a lifetime later, he managed to slip his bloody hind leg out of the metal maw.

Exhausted, Link relaxed his body. He was still in pain, sadly there was very little he could do about it. He had almost forgotten the voice he had heard before it rang out once again. Immediately his ears perked up, the canine hearing easily picking the details out. It was Rusl, this was bad, really bad. He was looking for him, calling his name. As much as Link would have loved to go to the man to get his wounds taken care of, he would be killed if he did. Killed by the man that had practically raised him. What a horrible way to go. Mustering what strength he could, Link stood. Pain rippled from all over his body, his hind leg was the worst. He kept his weight off of it the best he could, it was difficult with his front leg in pain, but he managed. The air was cold, not getting past his coat yet it bit relentlessly into his wounds.

The first step was the worst, his front leg buckled, bringing him to the ground. The rustling of fallen leaves crackled around his ears when he hit the solid earth. Standing up again, he braved another step, limping slowly away from the catastrophe from the previous night. He heard Rusl call out for him again, the desperation in the man's voice was faint and heartbreaking to the hero. He would be long gone before the older man reached the messy scene, or so he thought. Link had been heading back the way he came, not even 10 feet away from him stood his mentor.

Both man and wolf froze, locking eyes. The wolf was obviously wounded in many places, it was favouring its back leg. The man held the desperate, aged look of a scared parent. Man and beast stared at each other, the wolf seeming just as surprised as the man. Hardly even a couple seconds passed before the human's face contorted into the fierce, protective rage only a father possesses. He unsheathed his sword, brandishing it high he gave a great shout at the beast, sending it scurrying as fast as it could away from the human. Satisfied that it wouldn't harm him or what he was searching for, the man walked on, keeping to the path as the rustling leaves of the fleeing wolf disappeared.

While the experience was odd, it wasn't uncommon to see such animals in the woods. Rusl had barely paid much attention to the wounded beast, it was only a hindrance in his search for Link. If he had time he would have put it out of its misery, except the sun was already dipping low in the sky. There was little time left in the day. Winter days were much shorter than those in the summer, he was running out of time.

It didn't take him much longer to find a clue to what he was looking for. If only it was more comforting than disheartening. Rusl had been following the path carefully, watching the ground for the traps that he had sent Link out there to check. Alongside the path was the remains of what looked to be a young doe. The body was ripped and torn, the deep puncture wounds all over the remaining skin and flesh gave evidence that it was not a bokoblin's work. Rusl crouched down next to it, the lower legs had remained rather intact except for one. The jagged bloody marks and broken bone showed that it had been caught in a trap. Considering the wound was recent, it looked like it had been removed from the trap the night before. Removing his eyes from the gruesome scene, he walked on. At least now he knew he was heading in the right direction.

Scarcely even a minute later, the crunching of leaves and twigs turned into the sharp snap of a well-made arrow. With a sympathetic wince to the well-made material, Rusl bent down and picked up the broken pieces of the shaft. As soon as he picked it up though, he dropped it. The shaft had been stained a dark rusty red. The broken shards hit the leaves with a bounce, the dark head of the arrow landed next to another fallen arrow. Upon close inspection, the rusty colours of the leaves was inconsistent. There was splotches and splatters, a large oak was covered in splatter. Stepping around the large tree, Rusl froze. The scene before him was distrubing.

Several dead wolves lay around the scene, scattered arrows and equipment was everywhere. Undried blood lay in vast puddles around the bodies of the wolves. Forcing himself to inspect the equipment, he stepped forward, careful to avoid another trap nearby. Upon closer inspection, Rusl found that all of the equipment was Link's. The handy bag that had held all of it lay next to the dead body of a wolf. The sheer amount of blood in the small area was daunting, the smell was intense, as though a knight had been wearing hot armour all day. The metallic scent stuck in the air like a nail to a wall, the slowly increasing scent of dead flesh following behind.

Kneeling on the ground he discovered a bloodied trap, the metallic shine was dulled by the deep red surrounding it. Within the trap was an incredibly familiar sword, one that he had made himself as a gift to the royal family. With a grunt he pulled the trap apart far enough to get it out. Princess Zelda had given it back to Link all those months ago, a kind refusal so that he wouldn't be left without a weapon. The young man was proud of it, maybe not as much as the aster sword, but it came from where he grew up. It was important, he wouldn't leave it behind.

A shiver raced down Rusl's spine, he sighed in hope that his worry would dim. It didn't. Upon closer observation everything was a mess, but he was able to barely guess what happened. It was blatantly obvious that Link had been attacked, likely by surprise. Something had happened to cause the scattering of Link's weapons, he hadn't killed the wolves with his sword, he killed them with his arrows. Everything led up to his apparent victory, but the only problem was the hero was still missing. Setting the Ordon Sword down, Rusl ran a nervous hand through his hair. He anxiously walked around the area again, trying to discover where the young man had disappeared to.

The ever-growing pit of concern in his gut leapt to his heart. Desperately he shouted Link's name again, like he had done before. When no response came back to him he shouted again, much louder, his voice ready to break. The sudden frantic beating of his heart threatened to deafen him as it pounded in his ears. Again and again he called for him. Memories of calling him back inside all those years ago pushed at the back of his eyes, threatening to fall down his face as hope turned to despair. There was no sign of the boy, his final call for him turned into a pained croak as his voice turned hoarse and broke. Defeated, he fell back onto his knees next to the sword he had forged himself. His hands in his hair, he brought his chin to his chest. He felt utterly defeated.

Rusl knelt there for what felt like an eternity before he had the strength to stand again. With a renewed, but wounded vigor he continued his search. The ground held no tracks to follow besides a few splatters of blood. With the final desperation of a wounded father he followed the trail.

The sun was kissing the horizon by the time he reached the end of the trail, he had stumbled upon a dark den. Upon getting close to it, two dark shapes emerged. Both beasts had pelts as dark as shadows, their teeth a stunning ivory white. One was wounded, but both of them attacked at once. With a roar that Rusl didn't think he had in him, he slaughtered them. The dead bodies crumpled to the ground.

Upon the death of both of the beasts he scrambled to their den. Praying and hoping beyond hope that his boy wasn't dead in there. The entrance of the den was too small for him, with a groan of despair he sank down. His efforts were becoming useless by the minute. For all he knew, Link was dead. Dead because he had sent him on an errand all by himself. Memories and loss rolled down his face in their crystal clear forms. He couldn't find his boy and all signs pointed to the untimely death of the hero.

An involuntary cry escaped the lips of the older man. What had he done? What had he done? Oh goddesses, he had handed his boy over to death when he could've protected him. She should have, he should have. He couldn't help his boy now, the utter despair grasped his heart tighter and tied up his windpipe. He struggled to breathe. His dream the previous night felt more real that day at dusk. He had failed. The boy's glassy eyed body was likely stuck in that dark hole that those /monsters/ lived in. The older man was far too broad to ever fit in there, while the younger has been known to slip through smaller.

Ripples of emotional pain shot through Rusl as he sat there by the entrance to the den. With his hands clutching his head he sat, letting his heart hurt. He shamelessly let the pain roll down his face in tears, preparing himself to get up and go back home. No... It wasn't really home without Link. Sweet Nayru, what was he going to tell everyone? He had spent over half the day searching in growing despair for his boy with nothing to show for but bloody discarded weapons that had belonged to the hero.

By the time Rusl had managed to compose himself the sun had almost set completely. With his bones creaking in protest he stood, each heartbeat adding to his pain and dread he headed home. He forced himself to hurry, picking up the bloodied weapons as he came across them again. He carried the stained pouch in his arms, the ordon sword was strapped across his back with his own sword and shield. The extra weight was hardly a burden compared to the pain and dread of confronting the village.

It was deep into the night when he arrived, his pain almost forgotten. A rage replaced the majority of the pain, an anger at himself and at those /monsters/ that had taken his boy away from him. If he ever saw a wolf again it would be too soon, and if he did, it would be dead before it could even think about running. They had taken Link, they would take no one else.