The young girl had always liked to watch the sunrise. The way the oranges and reds played across the green open pastures; how the reds and yellows of the sun, the greens of the fields, and the greys and blues of the buildings coalesced into a beautiful display of light and colour: a hidden pact between the natural and the man-made creating a rainbow of sorts, bridging the two forces that, under any other conditions, would be at odds with each other. Here the beauty of nature and the majesty of architecture became one. But not yet. There were still a few minutes before this wondrous event was to occur.

Stepping out of her bed, the girl's feet recoiled at the cold touch of the wooden floor. Curling her toes to brace for the temperature, she once again placed her feet on the hard wood and stood up out of bed. The cold of the morning easily pierced through the thin slip she wore now that it was exposed to the air, no longer protected by the warm of the bed. Shivering slightly, she tiptoed to a small wardrobe and opened the door. A small selection of plain bland clothing hung from the small rack.

The girl looked sternly at the various dresses and shirts for a minute before finally deciding on a white, short-sleeved dress with a blue rectangular pattern lining the bottom of the sleeves and body. In truth, it was more of a long shirt than a dress, meant to be worn as a top, with a skirt to cover the bottom half of the body. However, on the young girl, the shirt was low enough that it didn't even reveal her ankles while she was standing. Taking the dress off its rack, she removed it from its hanger and quickly slipped it on, eager to rush out of the house and watch the sunrise.

Over in a corner of the room lay her boots. She didn't even cast a glance at them as she ran outside, her small feet barely making a sound on the wooden stairs as she quickly descended them. A small pitter-patter was the only indication that someone was even awake in the quiet farmhouse, let alone running around. She pushed the door open and was greeted by the blue light of a still serene morning. The sun had not yet risen. There was still time.

Now dashing out towards the direction of the light, the farmhouse she'd just exited on her left, a large stable to her right. Beyond the two buildings lay a large green pasture of grass and hay, a large, round, gated enclosure in the center of it; a high fence wrought of black iron. The girl slowed down as she approached the entrance to the gated area of the field, the soft grass turning to a hard dirt path that circled the enclosure, as though it were some kind of track. Opening the gate, she began running again, the dew on the soft grass in the early morning numbing her toes and wetting the bottom of her dress.

Finally she reached her destination: the absolute middle of the pasture. After several long minutes of intently gazing to the east, a glare finally arose from the mountain range that created the border of the lands of Hyrule. This was it; the sun was about to rise. She raised her hands high in the air and closed her eyes. A moment later the first rays of the sun crept over the peaks of the mountains, bathing the young girl in warmth and light. Her face lifted into a large smile as she opened her eyes and greeted the sun with an overjoyed yell of, "Good morning!"

It was beautiful. All of it. The shadows of all the structures in the sun's path, both natural and man-made, created a glorious display of contrast and beauty. The dew on the grass glistened for mere seconds before it evaporated. The girl had always pretended that these were fairies come to visit her. Slowly lowering herself to the ground, she laid back and let the sun warm her feet, her scarlet hair splayed out on the grass around her head. She laughed as the sensation of feeling came back to her toes and they became dried in the sun's heat. Looking up in the sky, shades of yellow and red streaked across the otherwise blue and cloudless sky. A glorious start to a glorious day.

And with that, the girl picked herself up, dusted off her clothes, and began running back to the house. The morning had begun, and with it so too had time for work. Rushing over the grassy pasture, she made her way back to the farmhouse and up to her room. She walked over to the corner she had ignored previously, grabbed her boots and began putting them on, tying up the laces tight as usual. Wouldn't want any grass or bugs to get in there, after all, she thought. Almost ready now, she had naught but one task left to her. She opened the door to her room and walked straight across the hallway, opening the door directly across from hers.

The sight of her father - a large man with a wooly beard and wild hair kept back in a ponytail - still asleep in his bed greeted her. She rolled her eyes and giggled. "Wake up sleepyhead," she said loudly, trying to wake him.

No response. She repeated it, a little louder this time. Still no response. Finally, she rushed into the room, climbed on the bed, and began wildly jumping on it, delightfully shouting, "Wake up!" over and over.

Jarred from what was clearly a deep slumber, the girl's father woke up with a start, immediately sitting up in his bed. "Wha... wha' is it?" he said sleepily, not entirely aware of what was going on around him.

Now settling down, the girl sat on her father's lap, put her arms around his neck, smiled, and said, "It's time to wake up, sleepyhead."

Despite being upset about having been woken up, her father couldn't help but be warmed by her demeanor. A kind smile came across his face as he looked at her and said, "Alrigh', just gimme a few minutes to get dressed and wha'not."

Now perking up a little more, he gently slapped his daughter's knee, saying, "Tell you wha'. Why don' you go wake up Mr. Ingo while yer waitin' fer me."

The girl slightly cowered at the name and held her father just a little tighter at the mention of this. "But, papa, Mr. Ingo scares me."

"Oh, Malon, don't be silly," came her father's reply, "Mr. Ingo migh' be a little rough 'round the edges, but he's a good man and a good worker. There's nuttin' to be 'fraid of, I promise yeh."

Smiling warmly at the girl, she couldn't help but be upraised by his friendly presence. "Alright, papa, I'll go wake Mr. Ingo up," she said, trying her best to be happy about it.

"Tha's a good girl. Now run along, and I'll meet yeh outside in a minute."

And with that, Malon hopped down off the bed and walked out of the room. Turning left and making her way another meter or so down the hallway, she came to a closed wooden door. Taking a deep breath and mustering up some courage, she opened the door a crack and peeked inside. Unable to see anything, she opened it wide enough so that she could stick her whole head through the doorway. In the bed was a man sleeping. He wasn't as corpulent as Malon's father, but he still had a rather large belly. "Uh," Malon started quietly, stuttering a bit, "Mr. Ingo? It's… it's time to wake up."

The man shuffled slightly in his bed, but otherwise remained motionless. Malon cleared her throat and said again, louder this time, "Mr. Ingo, it's time to wake up."

Another shuffle, but still he didn't wake. A few more times garnered the same response. Malon was becoming increasingly frustrated with the situation. Finally she opened the door wide, walked right up to the edge of the bed and shouted, "Mr. Ingo!"

Finally reacting to the noise, the man in bed jolted up, turned over to face her and yelled, "What the hell do you want?!"

Malon was severely frightened by his outburst, but tried her best to hold her ground. "My, uh, my father" she stuttered, "says it's time to wake up and do some work."

"Oh does he now?" the man asked snidely, "Well, tell that wonder of a worker that I'll be right out."

Malon would have had to have been a fool to not grasp the thick layer of sarcasm Mr. Ingo had drenched his words in. Deciding though that she had done her job of waking him, and that any further dealings had best be left to her father, she quietly acknowledged him and backed out of the room. Under his breath the man muttered, "One of these days, Talon, one of these days. You'll get what's coming to you for being so lazy, and then I, the great Ingo, will finally be able to run this ranch the way it was meant to be."

But Malon didn't hear these words. She was already running out the door of the house by the time he finished his utterance. Still running, she entered the barn just across the way from her house. Dashing over to one of the corners, she grabbed the bag of oats and began feeding it to the various horses they had in the stables. Most of the horses she passed were brown and black. Filling up each of the horse's oat bags, she made her way around the entire stables, finally reaching the end of them. In the last stable was an especially beautiful foal. Its fur was of a rich burgundy color, and it had a white mane and tail. The fur on the lower half of its legs was black, with another frill of white just before the hooves.

Malon showed particular care to this one. Before filling up the oat bag, she poured a little into her hand and let the foal eat off it. "Yeah, there you go, girl," Malon said, a smile on her face, "Eat up. There's a good girl."

The foal quickly gobbled the oats out of Malon's hand, so she filled up the bag and let the foal eat, petting her as she did so. Malon looked upon the foal with loving eyes; it was her favorite horse. Watching how she buried her head into the bag, how her black eyes shimmered in the beams of light that slipped through the windows and the cracks in the walls, how her beautiful white tail gracefully swatted at flies. Malon just couldn't think of anything more beautiful and majestic than a horse.

It was at this moment that Malon was lost in her day dreams and her gaze started wandering with her thoughts that she noticed the two figures sleeping at the other end of the barn. Her mind was quickly snapped from her reverie at this observation, and she was immediately gripped with both fear and curiosity. Who are these men? she wondered. Thinking better than to go wake the two, for fear that they might be vagrants - or worse: thieves - she slowly began to make her way out of the barn.

Before she could slip out the door however, one of the figures woke up. Paralyzed with fear, Malon could only watch in terror as the man pulled himself up to a sitting position and looked around the barn. Noticing Malon standing there, he squinted his eyes a bit, and took a long look at her before saying, "Malon? Is tha' you?"

Quite taken aback by this man's knowledge of her identity, Malon too looked hard at the stranger. "Oh, come now, Malon, you can' have forgotten 'bout me, could yeh?"

There was a familiarity to the man's voice, of this she was certain. Racking her brain more, Malon desperately tried to recall where she knew this man. After a long pause she finally managed to squeak out, "Uncle Sal?"

"Aye, I knew yeh couldn' 'ave forgotten 'bout me," the man happily bellowed out.

Now finally realizing the identity of the man, she ran over to him and joyously threw her arms around him in a zealous embrace. "Uncle Sal!" she cried with glee, "I haven't seen you in ages! Where have you been?! Did you have adventures?! Was it exciting?! Tell me all about it!"

"Oh, my how ye've grown!" Sahasrahla exclaimed in both delight and agony, as the weight of Malon throwing herself at him nearly toppled him back into the straw he had just risen from.

Finally managing to balance himself, Sahasrahla looked with joy into Malon's eyes and said, "Now now, child, tha' be a lotta question to be ans'rin at once. Which do yeh wanna know first?"

"All of them!" she said, a rather telling grin on her face betraying the joke she was trying to pull on Sahasrhala.

He played along with it nonetheless, and guffawed heartily at her suggestion. "Well tha's not very fair at all, now is it?" he asked.

"Nope," Malon replied, quite pleased with herself.

A smaller laugh escaped Sahasrahla's lips this time. "Well, I tell yeh wha', I'll tell yeh all 'bout my ventures and travels tonight o'er dinner. How's tha' sound?" he said, giving her a loving look and the most minute of winks, which she immediately picked up on.

Giving a small nod and smile as acknowledgement, Malon stood up and began walking over to the bag of oats she'd left on the floor explaining, "Well, if you don't mind, Uncle Sal, some of us have work to be doing."

"I sense me some mockery in tha' tone. Don' you be gettin' smart on me, girl," Sahasrahla said, accompanying this statement with a chuckle to let Malon know of his jest, though she hardly needed the affirmation.

Bringing himself to a position in which standing up would be a more attainable goal, Sahasrahla slowly rose to his feet and straightened his back, a sickening, yet satisfying, cracking noise accompanying this. He looked down to see his comrade still fast asleep on the bed of straw, trembling slightly despite the morning warmth. "Hey, Malon," Sahasrahla yelled out, still looking at Link, "Would yeh mind wakin' up me friend here? I've business to discuss wit' yer father."

Malon, who was still putting the bag of oats away, looked over at Sahasrahla before asking: "Is he nice?"

"Oh," Sahasrahla said, becoming ever more concerned for Link's trembling, "more or less."

He smirked slightly and then finally brought his gaze to meet Malon's. "Alright, Uncle Sal, just give me a minute to finish up over here," came her reply.

"Sure thing Malon," he said warmly, now heading for the exit to the barn.

A loud slamming sound notified Malon of Sahasrahla's exit as she continued to get the horses ready for the day. Almost forgetting the deed she'd promised to do, it was several minutes before Malon finally made her way over to Link's resting spot and knelt beside him. She couldn't help but notice that his clothes were very odd. Something she'd never seen before. A long green tunic acting as both top and bottom pieces, tied around the waist with a brown leather belt. The tunic was badly tattered and torn. Next to the boy lay a pair of leather boots and an equally tattered green cap.

Just as she was about to wake the young boy, the hat moved; only slightly, but enough for Malon to take note of it. Curiously grasping the cap in her petite hands, she was quite startled when a blue light started emanating from within. Peaking over the rim, she couldn't help but let out a large gasp. A small winged person lay asleep in the tip of the hat. She was no more than a few centimeters tall, but she gave off a powerful blue light. Blinding almost.

Another gasp escaped her mouth as she realized what this was. "A fairy!" she exclaimed, "They are real!"

Staring at the new found wonder a few seconds more, Malon finally put the hat down, careful not to disturb its inhabitant, and decided to wake up this strange boy. She hadn't noticed it before, but the boy had been trembling for the duration of her presence. Trembles started turning to shudders, and a quiet shivering moan began flowing from the boy's mouth. He must be having a terrible dream, Malon thought, now all the more eager to wake him.

Placing a hand on his side, she softly shook him, hoping to jar him from his slumber, but alas he remained asleep. Once again shaking him, this time harder, she started calling out to him. "Hey, uh… fairy boy!" she shouted, realizing she didn't yet know his name, "Wake up!"

The boy slowly came to, groggily mumbling some unintelligible babble. The only word Malon could make out was, "Help."

Shaking him and calling out a few more times, she finally managed to get him to turn onto his back and open his eyes, allowing her to finally see his face. Bright blue eyes peered up at her, veiled beneath goldenrod bangs. A hard jaw line accompanied by surprisingly soft facial features gave him a slightly handsome appearance, though most of this was undermined by several factors including his messy hair, torn clothing, and the smudges of dirt on his skin.

"Who… who are you? And where am I?" he spoke softly, clearly not yet entirely aware of his surroundings.

For a moment, Malon just remained staring at him, her gaze transfixed to his. Finally, she giggled lightly and said: "I'm Malon. And this is a barn on Lon Lon Ranch."

Finding the second question rather odd, she added, "How do you not remember where you fell asleep?"

"I… I don't know," the boy responded, his thoughts decidedly elsewhere.

"What's your name, fairy boy?" Malon asked, eyeing the boy with a questioning glance.

At this Link swiftly bolted up and came to attention. "What did you call me?!" he exclaimed.

Malon laughed hard for a moment before grinning and saying with ardour, "Fairy boy."

Link noticeably glared at her for a moment. "Please, uh, Malon was it?" he began.

Malon nodded, still grinning. "Please, Malon, never call me that again."

"Awww, why not?" Malon asked, grin growing wider, "I kind of like it."

Link opened his mouth to say something, but Sahasrahla walked through the door just then. "Don' mean to interrupt," he began, "but i's time fer yeh to earn yer keep here, lad."

Link threw him a questioning glance and said, "What do you mean?"

Sahasrahla adopted a face of shock as he looked at Link dumbfounded. "Are yeh really tha' dense, boy?"

Malon started giggling profusely at this point. Link shot her a sideways glance, but she ignored it and continued laughing. After a few moments of this, Link threw his arms in the air in surrender. "What?" he asked, not really sure of what was going on.

"Did yeh think yeh were jus' gonna sit around and sleep all day? There's work to be done, lad."

Link looked as though he were about to protest, but Sahasrahla, perhaps in anticipation of this, abruptly turned to Malon and added, "Malon, would yeh kindly show Link wha' he's to be doin'?"

"Sure thing Uncle Sal," she replied, still giggling.

Sahasrahla then turned round and exited the barn, leaving the two in solitude once again. Malon brought herself to her feet and began heading back to the stables on the other end of the barn, only pausing to look back at Link for a moment and say, "Come on, fairy boy. Follow me and I'll show you what we're doing."

Standing up and dusting himself off, Link glared at the back of Malon's head. "I told you not to call me that," he said sternly, reaching for his boots and putting them on.

"Well," Malon began, "what do you want me to call you?"

"My name is Link," he replied, making his way towards her.

Having reached her destination, Malon turned around and looked at Link. "I like mine better," she said, folding her arms across her chest and grinning at him.

Link thought of saying something, but decided to just ignore her instead. Reaching the other end of the barn, he walked up and stood beside her. "Now what?" he asked, not at all thrilled about the prospect of carrying out farm chores.

"We have to lead the horses out into the field so they can run around and graze throughout the day," she explained, "But before that, we have to fit them with reins."

Malon then went on to show Link how to equip one of the horses with reins, taking careful measure to explain each step she went through in an attempt to help him easier understand just what to do. After completing her demonstration, she had Link try it himself. He was subsequently the victim of many failed attempts from the horse to kick him. Following several minutes of this and Malon barking orders at him, he finally managed to complete his task and properly fit the horse with reins.

"Okay, fairy boy," Malon said, "Good job. You think you can do some more on your own now?"

Link glared at her for the name, but nodded at her nonetheless. "Alrighty then, let's get going."

She tossed him another pair of reins. "Just make sure you don't try putting them on that pony over there," she stated, pointing to the burgundy horse with the white trim.

"Why not?" Link asked.

"Because only I can tame that horse," Malon explained, "She doesn't like anybody else. Not even my papa."

Link now stared intently at the horse, almost trying to discern just what it was that made her friendly towards Malon and none other. The pony stared back at him, certain that she would give him a swift quick in the teeth if he even tried to touch her. "What's her name," Link said, still looking at the horse.

"Epona," Malon said softly, "Isn't she pretty?"

"Epona," Link repeated, more to himself than anything, "What a beautiful name."