[Author's Note: Hi! This story is entirely OC-based, which is why it's taken me a couple of years to fully develop. It's my own story with my own characters using the context and ideas of Nintendo's Zelda, and obviously, not everyone's into that, which I definitely understand. If you aren't, I really recommend clicking away now. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!]

I woke up to a lizard sitting on the middle of my chest, staring at me with beady little eyes filled with malice and hate. I think it was a hearty lizard, one you could cook to make you more resilient to...well, anything. Funny how that works.

It did not, however, look particularly appetizing to me. I let out a noise somewhere between a shriek and a dogs yelp. The next thing that lizard knew, it was being flung out the window into a soggy patch of dirt.

Great way to start a day. I mean, lizards are better than spiders, I guess. I violently slammed the window shut, as a last bit of spite to the unfortunate thing that had probably crawled in overnight. I really wanted to go back to sleep, but unfortunately for me, the adrenaline and the sunlight had already wiped it from my eyes, and now I was just left emptily yawning and staring around my room, seeing if there was anything else wanting a taste of the good old frantic toss.

Fortunately, it seemed my lizard buddy was alone this time. The wooden floorboards creaked beneath my bare feet as I collected my shirt and pants from their bundle on the floor. I'd be lying if I said they smelled good.

I finished up putting on my boots and took a moment to admire myself in the mirror. Hylian fashion had definitely evolved, and maybe not for the better. Tucked in shirts with a simple bit of lace to tie around the neck. And, of course, itchy brown pants stuffed into tight black boots. In my case, there was also a worn leather chest plate and a thick belt.

Not exactly appropriate for someone who spends their days hauling buckets of dead fish, but what can I say? It certainly makes me look nicer.

I opened the door to my room with a soft click, and stepped into the main area of the house. My home was simple- a lower level with a smallish bedroom near the entrance, and an upstairs with one more room. My parents'. We had everything a standard family could need- a dining table, covered with a fancy tablecloth and potted flowers in order to hide the wear and tear of decades of abuse. A small storage area under the stairs, containing years' worth of dusty old boxes and entire bloodlines of rats, and a little kitchen with a window overlooking the stove. Normally, my father would be in there, making breakfast of- surprise, surprise- fish.

I got up a bit earlier than normal, though, so the house was completely silent. I had sir lizard to thank for that.

After digging around in the cupboard for a minute to find my rubber band, I carefully left the house, avoiding the large, treacherous pool of mud that had developed just to the right of the front door.

It's not like I could avoid the constant wetness of everything around me, though. The best way to describe Deya Village was soggy.

Some idiot three hundred years ago thought it was a wonderful idea to construct a village in a low valley, completely surrounded by tall, grassy hills, right next to a small body of water, appropriately named Lake Deya. It was about five feet deep at its lowest points, and most of it didn't even come up to your knees. However, with even the slightest bit of rain, it would flood, covering everything with at least six inches of water.

Because of that, nothing in the town seemed at all permanent. The oldest thing was the well, an overgrown, half-collapsed structure held together by mold and determination. It was the closest thing to a landmark we had.

Deya, among many others, had been completely wiped out in the Calamity two hundred-odd years ago, and then rebuilt a while later. Then it was destroyed again, in a particularly bad storm. I was only a baby at the time. And then, within the last year, an earthquake knocked down many of the buildings and flooded the place.

Despite it all, the ten people who still lived here always came out of their hiding spots, picked up the pieces, and haphazardly put their lives together again. The Royal Family had more important things to do than help out a tiny fishing village that any logical person would've abandoned years ago, so everyone pooled together to survive and remake the whole town. It was…. Inspiring. If a bit insane.

A bunch of villagers would never be able to fix it permanently, though. And it seemed that every day, the whole town sunk further into the mud.

Speaking of mud, the only way to really avoid it was to carefully stay on what was left of the stone paths. The kids often made it into a game- try to cross the vast distances between paving stones with a single step. Most of the time, it didn't work, which resulted in a mess and a lot of fun. I'd never admit it if you asked, but I had started playing that same game with myself as I wandered aimlessly between buildings.

The best fish in Lake Deya were caught at night, so the fishermen wouldn't even be back for another hour or so. The sun was just barely cresting the tops of the hills, so the whole valley appeared to be in shadow, even below the pale blue, empty sky. My favorite time of day! Peaceful. Plenty of room to think without anyone telling you you're wrong.

That's not to say I was motivated to actually get up this early very often, though. Quiet is not worth losing an hour of sleep.

I passed by a small group of children, rare and elusive creatures capable of getting up this early for fun. Tifa and I used to play a game with muddy sticks when we were little, pretending that one of us was a monster and the other was some grand adventurer we created on the spot. There would be an epic struggle, but then the monster would always end up with a stick clutched between their armpit and their ribs, writhing in agony and utterly defeated.

Usually, I made him be the monster. Sorry, Tifa.

We both invented fantasies for ourselves, of saving Princess Zeneya from the clutches of evil, of vanquishing the dark lord with the power of light. Tifa grew out of that phase, though, and sort of settled into a very boring career of sitting at a table and scribbling down the numbers of fish and Rupees going in and out of Deya every day. It seemed he was almost made for it- his dark hair keeping the sun from glinting off his glasses as it hung around his face like a curtain, his small, pinched eyes always so unwaveringly focused. Apparently, he enjoyed it, even though I never wanted to believe him.

I mean, it was stable. If he kept it up, he'd be able to move him and his girlfriend to Castle Town. Maybe even work for the Royal Family.

Meanwhile, I'd be saving the village from evil at every turn, raising my blade against the forces of darkness and…

...well. You see my point.

Why settle for something so awful when there's a chance, however small, that you could be something great?

There was a chance that I could be chosen for some grand destiny. A very small chance, but… it's still better than nothing, right? Better than pretending to be happy for the sake of people you don't really care about. Better than dying forgotten in a sinking village, having your corpse buried with the fish.

Surely something like that was worth believing in.

But then again, I was coming up on my 19th birthday, and so far, no luck. Maybe it would be smart to settle down. I could get Tifa to put in a good word for me in Castle Town. I could be a guard or something. Even if it didn't make me happy, at least it was real.

Ugh. Early morning existential dread isn't as fun as it sounds. My heart sunk in my chest as I kept thinking around in circles, staring at my feet.

I barely noticed I had stepped onto the dock until I heard the loud creaking of wood beneath me. I jumped a little and looked up. That was the lake, alright. A cool, wet breeze blew across my face. Looking out, I could see a boat, encrusted with years of slime but somehow still held together, slowly drifting towards the shore. Teloni. Probably the least glamorous captain in the history of Hyrule, but definitely among the most beloved.

She had been working here in Deya for at least forty years, longer than my parents have even been alive. Apparently, in her younger days, she had been a dancer. I'm sure there were all kinds of stories about those days that I'd get fired for telling. Technically, I worked for her. So did most of the other kids, including Tifa. It was sort of like sharing a grandmother with everyone.

After what seemed like forever, the boat slowed to a stop next to me. Despite her age, Teloni had little trouble tossing out the "gangplank," which really was just a longish piece of wood with a fancy name.

The smell of fish hovers over Deya and its residents like a shadow. You get used to it. But even after years of working with them and even more years of living here, I could never keep a straight face when I would be hit daily with a wave of it, from just a few buckets neatly stacked on the deck.

I grimaced slightly as I climbed onto the boat, feeling it sway slightly beneath my weight. Teloni flashed me a bright, warm smile. She was a Gerudo, towering an entire head above me. Her skin was dark, her features sharp and hawkish. Despite having left her home years ago, she still seemed to radiate the intense heat and dryness of the desert. I guess you never really forget living in a place like that.

Smiling politely back, I approached the buckets and picked one up with both hands. It was filled to the brim with, you guessed it, fish, all about the size of my hands put together, with bright blue scales that glowed in the dark. They were pretty much the only things living in Deya lake. Everyone just assumed that they outlasted all other species, and I could definitely see why. The little things were tough- one or two were even still twitching. I flinched and looked away.

Two other workers, both about my age, were tiredly carrying out a process that probably had to do with making the boat stay still- I'm not even gonna pretend to know that much about it. I just carry fish, man.

Barra and Bato were their names. The only twins born into Deya in, like, a thousand years, and it came at the cost of their mother's life. They were practically indistinguishable from the neck up- both with round, babyish faces, dark eyes, and black hair that coiled up like springs. Beyond that, Barra was tall with biceps the size of my head and Bato was shorter than me and rather heavyset. They always worked hard, though, in a kind of silent tandem that creeped people out.

It took me a few trips from the boat to the shore until all the crates were unloaded. By then, Teloni was already settling down on a low wall nearby and counting out Rupees from her generously-sized bag, and the sun had made its climb about halfway up the sky. I set down the final crate and wiped the slime onto my pants, wrinkling my nose a bit in disgust.

"That's very good, dear," Teloni said as she approached me, handing me a bright red Rupee that glistened in the sun as I slipped it into my pouch. "Tifa will handle transportation. You know the drill."

I nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She responded with another small smile and turned on her heel, business concluded. Her house was the closest to the lake, a squat little thing with a Gerudo banner hung near the door that seemed to be on the verge of slipping into the mud completely.

"Nobody likes a suck-up," Bato muttered to me as he passed, shooting me a glare with beady little eyes.

"Shut up," I snapped back, shouldering past him and walking in the opposite direction, back to my home.

"Or what?" He said, making me stop in my tracks and clench my fists. Every muscle in my body was screaming at me to turn around and show him what he deserved. That's not at all what I should do, though. I should just keep walking, and ignore him until he stops.

"What, you're scared of me? I thought you were supposed to be the Hero of Hyrule, right?" His words played in my head like a log thrown on a fire. I whipped around, staring him down. Barra was standing a few feet behind Bato, glancing between us.

"I'm not scared of you," I replied, as calmly as I could. Apparently, he could hear the shakiness in my voice, because he immediately started up again, a grin spreading on his face.

"Yeah? I don't believe you. And neither does anyone else."

I started to back up, forcing my body to work against its instincts. The mud made horrible popping noises beneath my feet as I moved. Bato never took his eyes off me as I started to leave, scrambling away towards where the ground begins to slope up, and not stopping until I had breached the top of the hill and settled down in the grass, hurriedly wiping my eyes.

It's not like it was a new thing. I could deal with words. I had to deal with words, while working with him. He wasn't creative, he just said the same few things over and over again every time he got the chance.

From my spot on the hill, I could see out onto the road. To the south was a small forest. Not much to see, but the kids loved to play there. To the north, though, was Hyrule field and, by extension, the castle. If you stood up and squinted, you could just make out tall towers jutting into the sky like giant claws. You could even see the Twin Peaks looming in the distance, perfectly set against a foreground of rolling hills and lakes.

I sniffled, brushing a piece of filthy hair out of my eyes. I figured if I made my cloud of misery big enough, someone would come find me.

I'm not sure how long I stayed there. On that day, Bato's words struck a very particular chord, and it hurt more than usual. It really doesn't take much to plant doubt in my mind, I guess.

But sure enough, after a while, I heard a familiar voice huffing and puffing as he came up the hill behind me.

I barely looked at Tifa, only giving him a grunt of acknowledgement and pulling my knees to my chest. He sat down next to me, still panting softly, and I finally looked sideways through my hair.

I used to be much bigger than him, but through the years he had grown to be pretty tall, close to Teloni. He had been trying to grow a beard since he was 14, but all he could manage was a shadow of scruffy brown hair that matched the mop resting on his head. His eyes were black, big ol windows into everything he was thinking.

"Hey," He said. I hated when he did this- talked to me like I was a scared horse. But I'd also be lying if I said it didn't have the same effect- his voice was rather low and very smooth. He always sounded like he was talking from another room, even when he was right next to you.

"Hi," I grumbled back.

"Sheldie saw you run off. She sent me to check on you."

"Well, that's nice of her."

"Yeah, it is. You okay?"

"Fine."

Tifa sighed quietly and scootched a little bit closer to me. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Alright then. Well, why don't we talk about this instead." He turned to face me and held out something wrapped in thick cloth. I could see water dripping through it from whatever was inside. I sat up and frowned at it for a moment, before tentatively taking it from him and unwrapping it.

It was a sword, surprisingly light in my arms. I blinked a few times. Though encrusted with dirt and sludge, the blade still shone an unnatural white when I carefully wiped some of it away. Beyond the obvious dirtiness, it didn't appear to have suffered any damage from being underwater. The intricate drawings on the leather grip were perfect, as though they had been made a day ago. Fused to the middle of the pommel was a green gem, sparkling in the sun. The crossguard was beautiful, though probably not very effective- metal carved in the shape of wings reaching out like they were taking flight.

I finally tore my eyes off it and looked up at Tifa. "What is this?"

"I'm not sure. I found it at the bottom of one of the crates. It must've come up in the net." Even he seemed to be having trouble looking at me- the sword was prettier than anything either of us has ever owned.

"Maybe someone dropped it?" I tossed aside the cloth and turned the blade around in the sun. Usually, blacksmiths had a signature or something that they would imprint on whatever they made.

"Linia, look at it. It's obviously enchanted. How many sorcerers live in Deya?"

"Well…." I chewed on my lip, gingerly touching my finger to the point. I felt a sharp sting, and a little bit of blood welled up. "What do we do with it?"

"I don't know, that's why I was asking you!" Tifa pulled on a strand of his hair. A nervous tic, one he'd had forever.

"We could sell it," I suggested, standing up and giving it a few swings. It cut through the air in a flash of light. It was very well made- definitely not a traveler's sword. I'd never used a weapon in my life, and it felt natural in my hands. This was something a member of the Royal Family would have and never actually have to use. Something to put on a shelf and admire.

"No, we don't know what kind of enchantments are on it." Tifa brushed me off, waving his hand. "It could damn them forever, or even worse, it could be really powerful and end up in the hands of some thief."

"What if I took it to Castle Town?" I said, looking over at him and raising my eyebrows. "I'm sure I could find a sorcerer there, get it appraised. Then I could return it to whoever it belongs to."

"That might work," He mused. "You're sure it's worth it, though? I mean, that's a day or two's walk, and Central Hyrule isn't exactly safe."

"People travel there all the time, it shouldn't be that hard. Besides, whoever owns this can definitely afford to pay up for its return." I grinned at him and tapped him on the chest with the flat part of the blade. "I'll leave tomorrow."

He sighed. "Thank you."

"Yeah, don't worry about it. It's way more important that you be here. In exchange, though, you'll have to explain to Teloni why I didn't show up for work."

He groaned and rolled his eyes. "Fine, fair enough."

I stuffed the blade of the sword underneath my belt and tightened it so it would stay put. Not exactly safe, but hey. Probably better than running with a deadly weapon. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, Tifa," I said, patting him on the shoulder. "I'll take care of it. Tell Sheldie thank you for me."

"I will." He smiled at me. "I'd better get back to work."

"Yeah, I'd better get packing." I dusted myself off and started to hike back over the hill. Tifa followed behind me, and we walked in silence together until we hit the mud.

"Good luck," Tifa murmured.

"Thanks." I gave him my best reassuring smile, then turned and jogged across the town as quickly as possible. I did not want to deal with Bato again. The sword clanked loudly at my side, smacking against my leg the entire way back to my house. I threw open the door and stepped inside, tracking another layer of dirt onto the floor.

My mother looked up at me from the kitchen. She was a short, wide woman with an upturned nose and blonde hair much like mine, worn thin with age and usually pulled up into a tight bun. Her lips seemed to be always pursed, as though she had eaten a lemon. She frowned at the sword and jerked her chin at it. "What's that you've got there?"

"Tifa found it in the lake. I'm gonna take it up to Castle Town tomorrow, see if I can sell it."

"Hm." She turned back to the pot on the stove, idly stirring it. "Seems a bit unnecessary to go all that way, doesn't it? Maybe you could just give it to the folks who ship the fish. They head up there at the end of the week, right?"

"Yeah, well…" I pulled the sword out of my belt and set it on the table, before sitting down heavily on one of the chairs. What I didn't want to tell her was that I really wanted to hold on to my new, shiny thing for as long as possible. "We think it's enchanted, so it'd probably be safer for me to do it."

"Because you know more about enchantments than those men?" She raised a thin eyebrow at me.

"No, because…" I groaned. "I don't know, but it's not like I haven't run errands before! I'll be fine, Barra and Bato can carry around some fish for one day. I'll be fine."

"Alright, alright. I can't exactly forbid you from going." She sighed softly and tasted a spoonful of the soup before pouring in a bit of Goron Spice. Hard to get, but definitely worth keeping around for the taste. "Be safe, though."

"I will, don't worry." I yawned, stretching my arms towards the ceiling. "Where's dad, anyway?"

She winced, but from the neck down her body never changed. She didn't want me to notice. "He's… well, he's out at work today. Chopping wood and the like."

"Huh. I thought he had the day off?"

"He did, but…" She took a deep breath. I saw her fingers tighten on the ladle for a moment. "Zuro was killed yesterday. Disappeared sometime in the evening. They only found his corpse an hour or so ago. He's out working to get his mind off it."

"Oh." I stared at the sword on the table. I didn't know Zuro as anything other than a coworker to my dad. He had been a middle aged man, no children. His wife passed a few years back.

But a healthy person being killed, in the woods right outside of Deya? Monster attacks were unfortunately pretty common here, but generally, nothing wandered so close to civilization. Odd, but… I guess it's just a part of life.

"His funeral is tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll be missing it, then."

"Yes." My mother didn't take her eyes off the stove, even as I stood up and grabbed the sword. I could almost feel her burning a hole through everything in front of her. She was worried, and I could see why. Hyrule Castle was far away, but not far enough that they thought us worth sending soldiers to. If something decided to attack, it could be a full day before anyone arrived. We'd all be gone by then, and Deya would have to start up from the beginning again.

I took a deep breath and gripped the sword, keeping it pointed safely at the floor. "I'm gonna go pack."

She didn't respond, just gave me a tight nod. I slowly backed up and turned around, hastily opening the door to my room. I set the weapon down, leaning it against the wall, and sat on my bed.

I quietly undid the ponytail holding my hair back, letting it fall completely around my shoulders. It had already started to become unraveled during the course of the day, with only a few strands still tightly and painfully held in. I gave the blade a sharp glare as I settled down, lying flat and staring at the ceiling with my shoes still on.

Now that I was alone in a room with it, I was acutely aware of the fact that I had no idea what it really was. I mean, it was enchanted, but I didn't know who did it, or what kinds of things they might have done… I could be sitting in a room with a bomb and not even realize it until it was too late.

What a cheerful thought.

I sat up with a groan and rubbed my eyes. Napping could wait. I still had to pack a bag for tomorrow. Dragging my feet, I climbed out of bed and tried to push all thoughts of the sword out of my mind, instead focusing on trying to stuff as many containers of corn into my bag as possible. I put in my father's old hunting knife for safety, and a scarf in case it got cold in the middle of summer. I stared at it for a moment, contemplating asking my mother for advice on what to bring.

...eh. It was probably fine. I didn't need to overdo it for what would only be a day or two's trip. I set the bag down in the corner of the room, giving the sword a wide berth, and settled back down, pulling off my boots this time. If no one came to bother me, I could have the rest of the day off.

For some reason, several primal instincts in my body were telling me not to take my eyes off that thing. And I'll be honest, I really wanted to listen to them. But the warmness of my bed was far too inviting, and somehow even the leather constricting my chest started to feel comfortable as I drifted into a blissful, much-needed sleep.