Chapter 12

Link stood in the school parking lot as his stomach began to eat itself. He'd hardened himself stop against this despair when he was only eight. The thought of having another potential family spurn him had grown too sad to bear, and so he had sealed his hope away, resigned himself to spending his childhood under the gentle care of Miss Rebecca.

Now, it was back. Irene should have been there to pick him up. Should have been there twenty minutes ago. The little fight that afternoon had upset a number of people. Seemed it had upset her, too.

Link hadn't expected to win many friends by standing up for the Gerudo, but he was certain Irene had been his friend. Despite her sardonic insults, he could tell the girl liked him. But then everything had changed.

He sighed and looked once more at his watch. It was clear she wasn't coming. No benefit in standing around.

"Ah Link, there you are," came the gruff voice of Rusl from behind him. "Glad I caught you. We'll be having our first training session in a few moments, if you're interested."

Link nodded. Perhaps things would work out after all. There were few things as important as preparing for his desert journey, and maybe one of the other students training with him could take him home. He followed Rusl into the school gym, eager to begin.

Link recognized a few of the other students. Most seemed freshmen and sophomores who weren't quite old enough to enlist. A junior in dark, baggy clothes complained loudly that his parents probably wouldn't sign the consent form.

His eyes widened to see Desi, standing alone in a corner. Despite her prowess at tennis, she had always expressed a teasing disdain toward the more athletic side of things. Always the first to complain when Link and Zelda decided to go for a run, always quick to find comfort. He crossed the room to stand next to her. She shifted somewhat, making room for him.

"Only another year 'til I'm old enough," she said. "Think there'll be anything left for me?"

"I hope not," Link said, shrugging.

She let out a long, tired sigh. "You're right. The important thing is getting Zelda back."

Then Rusl called for them all to start, and there was no more time for conversation.

The hour they spent training was among the most disappointing of his life. He expected all the sweat that Nabooru brought out of him, and then a little more. He need not have worried. Either Rusl was going easy on the students, or Link's training with Zelda had paid off more than he thought. After an hour of light calisthenics, only the faintest trace of sweat had accumulated on his skin. His breathing had noticeably elevated only twice, and that during sprints.

He tried not to let the disappointment slam into him as the other students prepared to go home. He had thought this training would be the key that let him navigate the desert safely. If this introduction was anything to go by, however, it was no more than a glorified waste of his time.

"Hang on a moment, Link," Rusl called as he began to exit with Desi.

They waited until they were the only ones left in the gym. The silence was awkward at first, but then Link found the rock, as Aghreal had taught him, and he weathered the discomfort with grace.

"I can see you aren't just here to play soldier," Rusl said at last.

Link did not know what sort of response the man was looking for, so he stayed silent, waiting for him to make his point.

"Either you really hate the Gerudo, or you are deeply concerned about Kasuto. And according to rumor, you don't just hate Gerudo as blindly as some."

When he turned to look at Rusl, he noticed how clear, how sharp his green eyes were. Almost like Fado's. He would not have thought they would have been a good match, but he was beginning to learn that they both had a certain way of seeing things…

He shook off his thoughts and returned to the subject at hand.

"The Princess is my friend," he said. "I want her back."

Rusl nodded distantly and began limping over to the exit.

"I always yearned for a cause to fight so fiercely for," he mused. "But is it a blessing, or a curse?"

"It's just something I have to do," Link offered.

At this Rusl laughed, a low rumble deep in his chest, that almost sounded like a growl. "Ah, of course. It would feel like that, to you. Listen: don't waste your time with this training here. It's made for the people who haven't figured out how to actually care. Now, I'm not officially supposed to be doing anything more than this, but if we were both to happen to be at the shooting range just south of the city on Saturday afternoon, and I just happened to have brought along an extra gun with me, I wouldn't mind showing a bright young student a thing or two."

Link grinned as he worked out the implications. He would have to use the Master Sword against Ganondorf, true enough, but that didn't mean he wouldn't have to fight his less-immune minions. Learning to shoot would be a very useful step.

He idly wondered why Zelda never had Nabooru show him. As dangerous as she was, he was certain she was well-familiar with all sorts of weapons. Perhaps she just didn't want to deal with the security nightmare of having the princess around countless loaded guns. Thinking about it, Link couldn't really blame her.

Desi's mom ended up giving him a ride home. They chatted idly about homework, and classes, and the unpleasantness of running. They pointedly ignored anything of consequence going on in their lives, until Link jumped out at his house, and Desi caught his hand.

"It's good to know you care about getting Zelda back, too," she said. "I was worried-" she cut herself off and chewed at her lip.

"I care just as much as you do," he said. "If there's anything I can do to make it safe for her to come back just one day earlier…" he shrugged. "I have to try, you know?"

She smiled. "Well… good, then. Don't be a stranger."

His smile stayed with him until he got inside. Then it fled. The air felt heavier, somehow, as though a weight were pressing down on his mood. Kafei and Anju's shoes sat neatly next to each other in the mudroom. He checked his watch; normally they wouldn't have been home for at least half an hour. He could think of few people who valued their work more. For them both to be home early…

"Link, there you are," Anju said. "Are you always out this late?"

"Just training with Rusl," he said. Then he added in explanation, "He's an army recruiter."

She winced at that, as obvious as if he had struck her. Then she relaxed and let her eyes sink closed.

"I suppose there's no stopping boys from trying to be noble," she said. Then she caught herself, as though she had just been about to topple off the edge of a staircase, and shook her head slowly. "No, that's not fair. You are doing more than trying."

Link hadn't the first clue what she was talking about, but he knew from her tone that he would soon find out. He slipped out of his shoes, set his backpack out of the way in the corner, and followed her into the sitting room. Kafei was there, but not in his armchair. Rather, he paced anxiously about the room, hands clasped at the small of his back. He turned as Link entered, and favored him with a false smile.

"Welcome home," Kafei said, his voice a dull monotone. He licked his lips, crept his mouth open, glanced at Anju, then shut his mouth again.

"I've been thinking all day, and I still can't figure out how to tell you," he murmured. He closed his eyes, and drew in a large breath.

Link looked up at Anju. He had never considered her a particularly strong woman. She worked long hours at her inn, true, and still found the time to try to bake. But when word of the invasion had come, and she had buried herself completely in her work, it did not surprise him that she would retreat like that.

Even so, she seemed more in control than her husband. She wrapped an arm around Link's shoulder, and gave him a gentle squeeze. Guilt crept up into his cheeks. Of the three, he was perhaps the least in need of comfort.

At last, Kafei spoke.

"May as well get it over with and be direct," he said. "I've been thinking, the past couple days. Thinking hard. I served as an officer for a few years, when I was too reckless to know better. I believe it is my duty to return."

The pronouncement was met with silence. What was there to say, 'good luck?'

"Living's cheap out there," he continued. "I'll be able to send most of my paycheck home, and if…"

Anju's hand trembled on his shoulder.

"I think I should go walk around, and let you finish saying good-bye to each other," Link said. Kafei raised a hand, as if to beckon him closer, but Link cut him off. "I'll be fine, really. Could we talk, though, before you leave?"

After being assured that they would have a thorough conversation, Link turned around and went back outside. He had nowhere in particular to walk to, so he let his feet carry him. He wandered past stone houses, sprawling lawns with adorable little ornaments, couples walking newborn puppies, and the occasional frollicking squirrel.

Before too long, his nose picked up on freshly-cooked food, and his course brought him to a busier part of town. Hylians and Gerudo bustled through the streets, getting their shopping done now that work was closed. Castle Town had its supermarkets, of course, but the citizens also prided themselves on local vendors with unique crafts. But Link had stumbled upon the historical district, where the air was filled to bursting with the excited yells of an open-air market.

Everything had felt so dull, so muted over the past few days. Here, it was like nothing had ever happened. Vendors sang out their wares, each carrying his own tune, all blending together in contrapuntal cacophony.

He bought his dinner—a hot roll, stuffed with smoked ham and little packets of oozing cheese, for three rupees. The baker had wanted five, but Link talked him into a student discount. Making the most of his mild victory, he found a relatively-unoccupied bench and sat down to enjoy his dinner. It was less than what he would normally eat, but the taste more than made up for it. As children chased each other about the crowded square, and lovers held hands, he could almost forget his duty. His fate.

Before he had finished eating, two Gerudo, perhaps a year or so older than Aghreal, broke out of the crowd and stopped before the bench. A look of surprise passed over their faces for an instant, before the one in front broke into an exaggerated grin.

"Ah, our savior," she said, her voice dripping with ire and acid.

"The Hero himself reborn, come to save us from the oppressive Hylians," the second one joined in, immediately catching onto the game.

"Such nobility. Such grace."

"Such courage!"

As one, they dropped to their knees before the bench, spreading their arms to the side in a gesture of supplication.

Link shifted his gaze aside and did his best not to squirm. He had a feeling they were making fun of him—only a fool could mistake the tone—but he could not find the humor in it. He felt his cheeks flush red from their veiled mocking, but he carefully kept the rest of his body controlled, firm. He sought the rock, as Aghreal had taught him.

The one in front laughed, cool and dry, then lunged forward and grabbed Link's shirt, pressing her face so close he smelled her breath.

"We do not require your defense, boy. Let my sister play what games she will, but remove yourself from our affairs. We are fine on our own."

"Enough!" snapped a powerful voice from behind her. The two Gerudo scrambled to her feet, turning to face the newcomer. She looked like a cross between a warrior princess and a housewife. She held a shopping bag in one hand; the other cradled a sleeping baby. Gentle lines of age creased her face, but her eyes burned with a heat that Link had no desire to stand up to.

His antagonists bowed their heads, stepping backward away from the woman. She fixed her eyes on each for long moments. Then she turned to Link. Her features softened, and she favored him with a warm smile.

"I've heard of you, child. Try not to let these fools of mine dishearten you." The two girls both winced at that. "But perhaps be a little more… prudent? Yes, prudent, in your actions."

Link rose and thanked her, though his words came out muted and jumbled together. She hardly paid attention, though. Already, she had turned back toward the crowd. Her daughters followed behind, shooting Link glares of warnings as they merged into the throng.

"You are just wonderful at making friends, aren't you?" Aghreal said.

Link turned to see his her casually juggling a pair of apples in one hand. She wasn't even looking at them.

"I was just trying to help," he grumbled.

She laughed. "In some circles—the idiotic ones—getting help from a wimpy little Hylian boy is…" she paused, closing her eyes in search of the right word. "...scandalous.

As the next apple landed in her hand, she tossed it to Link. To his surprise, he caught it easily.

"Thank you." He took a large bite. Soft, rich, and juicy. "But I really ought to be getting home."

When she did not respond, he shrugged and began walking back toward the residential part of the city. Aghreal fell into step beside him.

"Why are you out to begin with?" she asked.

Link shrugged. "I felt like taking a walk.

Aghreal sighed audibly. "Please. I say this as a friend: you are the dullest person I know. You did not just decide to go stroll through the market. Especially not with a test tomorrow."

He froze mid-stride. In all the chaos, the pending math test had completely slipped his mind. The panic only took him for a moment, though—long enough to realize that he had bigger things to care about. He resumed walking.

"You're a good teacher. I'm ready for it," he said. It was mostly true. His understanding of the subject had shifted in the past months. He began to see the ideas tie into each other, catching glimpses from time to time of the underlying tapestry. If he really wanted to do his best, though, he'd still be getting in some last minute practice.

Aghreal must have realized this. "You are not suddenly a genius, and I know you wouldn't just stop trying."

He almost snapped at her. He never pried into her affairs when she clearly didn't want to talk, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew better, though. He strode forward, eyes fixed ahead of him, breathing deeply. There was no need to be mean.

"I just needed to get out of the house for a while," he said carefully. As he said it, he realized that he actually wanted to tell her. Talk to her about Kafei, and his pending departure. And why not? Did he fear she would think him weak for it? She already did.

"I am well familiar with that feeling," Aghreal said. It was a shock even to hear her admit it.

They walked in companionable silence for a time.

"Are you not going to say why?" she prompted at last.

"It's… kinda silly."

She snorted. "I don't talk to you for your philosophical musings."

He turned his head to see her grinning mischievously at him. He chuckled along with her. She had a point. Kind of.

"Kafei's joining the Army," he finally said. "I mean, it's not the same as if someone's real dad was going off to war, or anything. I'd just… I'd wanted a family for so long, and then…" He gestured futilely at the air. "I know he's doing what's right, or what he thinks is right anyway, but…"

"You really wanted a father," Aghreal finished for him.

He shrugged. "Just one of those dreams, you know? Wanted to be an astronaut, too."

"I've wanted one, too," Aghreal said.

"What?" He was shocked she was opening up at all, and doubly so to learn that she had such mundane fantasies.

"Never told my sisters, of course. We do not quite have the best history with male Gerudo."

After he recovered, Link almost burst into laughter at the image of her confession. Only his dampened mood and sense of politeness stifled it. "I never took you for a daddy's girl," he said.

She patted his shoulder, then grabbed on tight, slowly working her nails into his skin. He hissed, squirming away from the mild sting.

"If you say that again, I will slug you," Aghreal said. He nodded, and she released him, laughing.

Their conversation turned to lighter things as they continued walking to Link's house: the unrelenting chill that had recently swept into Hyrule, who had enlisted and who hadn't, camping. Before too long, she started drilling him on math. ("Just because you don't care doesn't mean I'm going to let my grade suffer," she grumbled.) It was somewhat more difficult without paper in front of him, but he did far better than he would have at the beginning of the year.

Link savored the sense of companionship. Fado had always been too immature to connect with. For a moment, he had thought he and Zelda were becoming close friends, but no matter what, he would always be a tool for her, a high-valued game piece in her play against Ganon. Aghreal was simply his friend. She demanded nothing, and seemed to understand him. The pleasantness of it surprised him; he had been so focused on having a family that he had never given thought to making friends.

They continued together until they reached his house. Anju leaned out the front door, waving.

"Oh, Aghreal! Are you joining us for dinner?"

The Gerudo shook her head, suddenly bursting with polite charm.

"No thank you, Mrs. Dotour. I just wanted to invite you to our Hero's Day festival."

"What?" Link said.

Aghreal talked over him. "I heard your husband is going off to fight, and I thought you wouldn't want to be alone, especially on Hero's Day."

"That's very sweet dear, but that's when the inn is busiest. I just couldn't. I'm sure Link would love to join you, though."

"That would be wonderful." She threw both her arms around his shoulders and squeezed, hugged him, just like Fado might have. "Thank you, Mrs. Dotour," she said, beaming.

Before Link could properly react, Anju smiled and said, "Hurry in dear. Dinner's getting cold." The door slammed behind her.

Link blinked. "Did I... miss something?" It was like an entirely different person had been standing next to him.

Aghreal chuckled, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Hero's Day. Noon. Don't be late."

Link walked to the house, wondering when the last time was that his life had been perfectly normal.

Dinner was a muted affair. Anju played her best at happiness, but Link saw the truth in the slowness of her jaw, the quaver in her hand. He saw it in the lines of worry etched on her face and in the long glances she cast at Kafei. He felt it, he thought, even in the air. It felt somber. Stale.

Link helped with the dishes after dinner, though it soon became clear that Anju had little help to offer. He quietly suggested that she might want to sit down and relax while he finished up. She put up token resistance, then took his advice.

It wasn't until 8 o'clock that Link and Kafei had their discussion. Anju had gone to bed early, with the aid of some sleeping pills. The two sat in the lounge, Kafei on his recliner, Link on a wooden chair. The man stared past him, eyes fixed on something that wasn't there.

"I'm still not sure I made the right decision," he said, his hoarse voice almost a whisper. "After tonight, I am less certain than ever."

"Other people thought it was the right thing, too," Link said. He could barely think what to say. He shouldn't have to be comforting adults, and definitely not Kafei. He was just in high school; what could he possibly bring to the conversation?

"I suppose it would selfish to argue that Anju and I love each other so much more… Especially to you. I've not heard you complain once about your… mission."

Link shrugged. "Complaining wouldn't help me."

Kafei laughed, low and long. His head fell back against the recliner, and he stared up at the ceiling. "That's the right idea. I almost want to say you're lucky you've never been in love. Almost. Anju was the best thing to ever happen to me."

He sat up and rubbed his face. Link watched patiently. If the man needed to talk, he could listen. Listening was easy. He just hoped he didn't ask him anything. But Kafei, it seemed was finished with that subject.

"You will face a similar choice before long, if I remember," he said. "How go your schemes with the princess?"

Link paused, still unsure just how much he wanted to reveal. "I'd hoped she'd be around longer to guide me," he said at last. "I have an idea of what to do, but…" he shrugged.

Kafei smiled. "Welcome to adulthood."

Though Link had known the man only a few months, his chest swelled with pride. He had always been more mature than other kids, but the adults had still looked down at him, hiding the truth from his innocent mind. Finally, he was being taken seriously. Kafei was speaking to him as an equal.

"I will have to leave at some point," Link said. "Hopefully later, rather than sooner, but there are things that must be done. Will Anju…?"

"She is stronger than you might think," Kafei assured him. "My first few days gone may be rough, though. Take care of her. Promise me."

"I do not like making promises," Link said. Pain and outraged flashed across Kafei's face, but Link would not leave him with a lie, however comforting. He pressed on. "If things change, if I have to go… away tomorrow, if-" Link cut himself off before he began rambling. There were a thousand ifs, each less likely than the other. "I'll do what I can, but this takes priority."

After a long pause, Kafei nodded. "I guess I can't ask more than that. My fault you're in this mess, anyway." He pushed himself to his feet with a sigh.

Link rose as well. They stood there together, hesitant to move into the future. Then Link stepped forward and flung his arms around the older man.

"Be safe, dad."