The only things more amusing than one fool are two fools. When these creatures meet, a strange thing happens. For a moment they forget the troubles of their worthless lives and delight in their own shared ignorance.

The most enjoyable thing is watching their own weakness tear them apart.

They shatter the bonds they create, and the painful shards stay within them until the day they die.

It's rather poetic.

The kitchen of the Lon Lon Ranch's sole cabin was adequate, with cabinets and counters, a basin and a pot stove. The wooden floor creaked, the wooden ceiling creaked, the wooden doors creaked, every part of the house creaked so much that the other parts got tired of all the noise and stopped creaking altogether. At the small dining table in the center of the room, two people, a man and his daughter, were seated. Neither spoke.

Talon sighed deeply, rubbing his glistening bald spot and taking a short sip of milk. Across the table, his flesh and blood was seated rather indignantly. He swallowed, and cocked his head, looking at her from a different angle. It had only been three years since she'd left, but she'd aged so much. At nineteen she looked like a girl, at least in the middle-aged farmer's eyes. Now she was a woman. There would be no going back. It was a shock for the poor old man. After a long, gloomy silence, he spoke.

"I missed you."

She exhaled, and nodded lightly, avoiding looking at Talon. It was her way of telling him she'd missed him too. Finally she garnered enough resolve to look him in the eyes.

"You want to know why, right?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Well I certainly wouldn't mind-"

"It was because I felt useless!" she snapped. "You treated me like a child. As if I didn't know what was going on in the world. Like I didn't know about Zant-" Talon shuddered and closed his eyes. "About the coup. The executions. The… everything." Her father didn't move from his position.

"I know they killed Ma."

The farmer's face dropped and his breathing became very deep.

"I had to do something. And yeah, I was young. And dumb, and so I ran off and joined some bandits who made me think they were going to fight the good fight." She chortled. "Yeah, I made a terrible thief."

Talon made noises that sounded like both laughter and lamentation. "Oh, Malon… I remember," he said, with a gleam in his eyes, "when you were twelve, you stole the Cucco we were going to cook for dinner, and tried to hide it in your room."

Now Malon began to laugh. "I tried to act innocent even though-"

"You had feathers all over your dress!" Talon finished.

Both laughed freely, and as the laughter died down there were tears in Talon's eyes.

"I'm so sorry." He wiped them away. "But you were so young. You are so young!"

"I'm twenty-two, Pa."

The farmer thought for a long while, and then smiled. "So you want to fight the good fight?"

She nodded decisively.

"Do you have any idea who you're escorting?"

Malon shrugged. "A batshit-crazy mute who would be absolutely petrifying if he wasn't so cute?"

Talon laughed. "No, sweetie. That man out there," he began, pointing through the window to the swordsman who was now having an absolute ball playing in the Cucco pen, "may very well be just what we need to turn the tide of this war."

Malon looked surprised. "Don't get me wrong, he's the best warrior I've ever so much as heard of, but he's just one man."

Talon grinned. "One man with enough courage can make all the difference in the world. Never forget that."

For a while there was silence, and Talon leaned back and gazed at the ceiling. "How long did you know I was a rebel, Malon?"

"I think I always knew." She stated with a frown. "Especially after the… 'accident'. I guess that was one of the reasons I got so frustrated. My own father was putting his neck on the line and I had to sit back like a good girl. It made me sick."

Talon nodded. "I'm sorry for not treating you right, sweetie. It's just, after your mother died, I was afraid… that I'd lose you, and that would be that."

Malon smiled, stood up and walked around the table to her father. She wrapped her arms around him, and hugged him strongly.

"Have some courage, Pa."

Later that night, Malon decided to give Link a bath. He didn't seem to realize it, but he stunk after 8 years of being a wild animal, and if the swordsman wasn't going to take care of his own hygiene his traveling companion would have to do it for him. She dragged him by the ear into the ranch's bathroom, stripped off his clothes (while trying to maintain some decency by looking away), and dunked him into the large basin used as a tub. She poured in a large bucket of water, and topped it off with a bulky chunk of soap. Finally, Malon turned away from the scene and nodded.

"Alright then. Wash yourself."

A minute passed and nothing happened.

Suddenly the sound of gagging came from the basin. Malon whipped around to find Link coughing up pieces of soap. To his defense, it had looked a great deal like a boar dumpling, which he had just figured out how to eat.

With a groan, Malon picked up the washcloth from the edge of the tub and dunked it in soapy water. Starting with Link's long, overgrown mane, she scrubbed him down. After washing a bit of the grime and dirt away from his face, the farmgirl was finally able to get a good look at her companion. He looked to be about her age, perhaps a couple years older. His face was the slightest bit gaunt, with high cheekbones and a rounded chin. Blonde stubble framed his visage, and met his unruly sideburns to join locks of shoulder-length hair. His lips were conservative, much like Malon's, existing as only a thin line between his growing beard. Link's eyes were the last feature she noted. They had a dull blue color, like a gem covered in dust, and were unspectacular until they truly met her own. There was a strange connection, and for a moment she saw the youth hiding behind those weary irises.

It was then Malon realized she'd been scrubbing the same spot on Link's shoulder for well over five minutes, and it was now beginning to turn quite red. She quickly dropped the cloth and turned away in embarrassment.

"S-sorry."

Link said nothing, but smiled to himself, picked up the washcloth and began to scrub his own body thoroughly.

Early in the morning, Link and Malon collected their belongings and prepared for the journey ahead. Talon accepted that his daughter would be in peril, but at least she'd have the protection of an organized group, rather than a wild band of thieves. And he trusted Link. The man was clearly a vicious fighter, from what Malon had told him, but the message from Telma had confirmed his expectations about the boy. He decided that in the world they lived in, Malon simply couldn't be safer.

Talon was unable to hold back tears as he hugged his daughter goodbye. After all, she'd been gone three years, and could only stay for a day before running off again. Though she wouldn't admit, the young woman felt a bit like crying, too.

The farmer gave them a small stone to take to the next contact. It had a strange hole in the center, and four lines carved connecting the hole to a ring near the edge. He explained to show this to the two men they'd meet near a pass far to the north. He would direct them to the hideout of the resistance. They thanked him for the help, and continued on their journey.

As they disappeared beyond the horizon, Talon turned and trudged to the old, dusty cellar behind the cabin. He procured a small key, and unlocked the thick double-doors. The light that filtered in was received coldly by the dusty interior, as it illuminated a dilapidated floor, with footprints marking previous paths in the thick dust. Talon lit a lantern hanging on a nearby wall, and raised it towards the farthest corner of the basement. After closing the cellar doors, he took a seat at the only chair in the room, and set the lantern on a small table next to him.

"Mornin', Ingo."

He clasped his hands together and set them on his lap. His eyes seemed to be fixated on each digit.

"I uh, guess it's been a while since we last talked."

There was silence for a moment.

"Oh, yeah. Malon came back today. Great, huh?" he smiled. "I was worried about her. I know you were too. Anyways, she brought a nice fella with her. I think she likes him. He's a quiet boy, but I can tell he's a good soul."

He continued to fidget with his hands.

"I'm sorry."

Accepting the stillness as a response, he pushed on.

"I guess I just didn't have too much of a choice. I mean, at the time I had to follow the path I was on, and that just lead down a road I wish I could've avoided. Lookin' back on it, I see you were doin' the same thing. I hope you can forgive me one day."

Talon exhaled, having pushed on through that part of the conversation.

"Somethin' funny happened today. I realized how much the world had grown up while we were hidin' out here at this ranch."

Finally Talon stood, and looked up from his hands.

"This grudge has to die, Ingo. How 'bout it? We were like brothers before. Can we go back? Because I know good and damn well everything else's changed!"

As Talon stepped out of the cellar, closed the doors behind him and locked them tightly, he felt as if a massive weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He'd freed Ingo, and thus himself. And he would never again have to return to the dusty cellar, with its small table, broken chair and Ingo, who, spirit now departed, was nothing more than an aged skeleton, chained to the wall.

The further north the two traveled, the colder it became. The grass began to recede into patches of green mixed with brown, and finally the cold frost of winter swept the plains. The animals returned to their homes within the earth, and the plants wilted, bowing down to rest for the season. For at least a week, Link and Malon rode on, passing few travelers. They camped alongside the road, and watched the peaceful fall of the season's first snow. As the snow grew heavier, and light grew dim, the pair knew they were close to their goal.

Eventually the pallid land seemed to end, breaking off into a massive chasm that spread across the horizon. The road led to an immense stone bridge. In the distance, the bridge looked as empty as the rolling plains. But as the two rode closer, they noticed the presence of several caravans. Smoke from beyond the entrance to the viaduct rose in thick, overpowering billows. Link instinctively moved closer to Malon.

As they neared the caravan, they found it mysteriously empty, with only Hylian warhorses waiting impatiently for their masters to return and command them. The sight ahead stopped the two travelers dead in their tracks. From the beginning of the bridge to the very center, it looked as if a war had taken place. Hylian Wardens, known as the patrolling force of the army of Hyrule, were strewn about the passage. Towards the center, some lay in pools of their own blood, others were cut completely in half. Worse still were the ones closest the entrance. Their swords were nowhere to be found, and they faced the land they'd come from. As if they'd been cut down trying to escape.

Link and Malon both dismounted, and began to walk their horses across the bridge, surveying the destruction.

"What on earth… what happened here?" Malon had seen her share of battle and death, but this was no skirmish. It was a massacre.

Seconds later she received her answer. The bodies ended where a single being stood.

He was a man; at least he appeared to be. Standing no less than seven feet tall, he cast a deathly shadow over the bridge. The corpses littered in front of him were hardly fallen men, simply remainders of a possibly human body. He wore a dark, frayed robe, stained black by drying blood. His hands were the only part of his body visible. They looked only vaguely human, far too large and misshapen to be a normal man's. In them, the thick handle of a colossal axe was grasped tightly. The axe was coated in crimson stains, and chips of bone.

Upon his head he wore a dark mask, made of dense obsidian. It covered all but his long brown locks of hair, and made Link remember something he'd seen before.

The man spoke now.

"Leave."

Link positioned himself in front of Malon, who peered over his shoulder and spoke for him.

"Um, we need to cross this bridge. It's ok! We don't really like the guys you fought either, so I don't think we need to fi-"

The man brandished his axe, swinging it across the width of the bridge and then crushing it into the stone path. A large crack was left in the ground, and the axe looked unbroken.

"Leave!"

Malon began to back away from the scene, though Link remained unmoving.

"B-but, why?!" she asked.

"Those that cross this bridge bring death and ruin. I shall never allow you to harm my land again."

Malon looked dumbstruck. "Um, uh… Link? What do we do?"

The swordsman looked back at her with an assuring smile, and winked. She nodded, and grabbing the reins of both horses, retreated to a safe distance.

The axe-wielder raised his voice. "You refuse?!"

Link answered by striding towards the man.

"Then die!"

The axe cleaved the sky.

Dark here. I apologize for the cliffhanger. I just love to see people squirm.

Seriously though, I battled over whether or not to include the fight in this chapter and decided to hold off. Still, I did that so it would be that much better. Trust me. The next chapter I'm starting on right now, so expect it to be up within the day. Hopefully.

As always, much love to the reviewers.