Authors notes: Shorter chapter this round friends! I'm working so much at my job that it has been hard to find the time to write. But last night I had the evening to clear my desk and get back to it. So here is the next bit of the story! The calm before the storm. Please be sure to drop a comment! It really motivates me to keep this going, you have no idea. Thanks again so much, I love you all! And stay tuned for the audio drama if you're following that. The next episode will be out next weekend hopefully

Chapter 22

A moment to breathe

From the brink of fading in and out of twilight, he awoke choking on the ground. Unable to even cough as all the air from his lungs was robbed from him. Desperately trying to breathe, he gasped from the cover of his burnt and ravaged mask, and the black void that engulfed him gave way to burning light as it pierced through the gaping holes of his cover and burned his eyelids. Even though his vision was still blurry, he saw the darkness that he once thought doomed him forever fade away as he lifted his gaze to a glowing orange dawn that crept over the horizon, peering in from a broken doorway from where he lay.

Collecting what thoughts he could one by one by piecing them together from a jumbled mess of recollection, he pondered to himself, questioning where he was as he lay motionless on the ground of an unknown place. Where am I? Am I back?

He was certain he was alive. That he was sure of. But he couldn't hear a thing except the ringing of his ears. Smoke and rubble debris filled the air around him, and the taste of ash sat like poison powder on his tongue. The young man could hardly move a muscle and was stricken numb from any control of his body. Was it the fear of death from before or the pain of his wounds holding him back? He couldn't be sure.

Face first in the dirt of what seemed like a ruined barn, his vision became clear, and Link found himself to be back in the present. Using all the strength, he could summon up to stand up to his two feet once more; he forced his body into compliance. With his bones rattled and nerves shaken, it only took a moment for the burning pain from the blast from before to return as he regained back his senses. He flinched as it sent shockwaves throughout his entire body. Everywhere his body echoed pain.

Slowly trudging about in his torn and ragged soldier uniform, he ripped off the worn mask that now had been rendered useless and destroyed, freeing his face. Although his mask bared most the blast, it offered hardly any protection from explosion and shrapnel. Just enough to prevent any scarring to the front of his face.

He gently grazed the side of his cheek with his ripped gloved fingers, feeling nothing but the coolness of drying blood coming from where his pointy ear was. Fear quickly gave way to relief as he realized both earlobes were still intact and that he may have only suffered minor cuts and a ruptured eardrum on his left side. However, given the news of his ears, he was still in bad shape. One arm was still slashed from the fight before the siege, and now most of his body was bruised from the roof of the barn and loft that broke his fall from the sky, which no doubt saved his life. Not to mention, his left side was singed by burns and bloody scrapes.

In his condition, all he could hear from one side was the low rumblings of war, shouts, and the dull clashing and clanking of steel all around him as he lumbered out from where he lay hidden. It didn't take long for his well-off ear to hear in full clarity, yet again at was unraveling all around him. He was somewhere in the city, and the battle had begun. And from what he could tell, he had only been out of the fight for just a few minutes.

The foul smell of something burning became more and more pungent. Until finally, it couldn't be ignored any longer by him.

"What the hell is that foul?-Eyagh!" he yelped with a jump.

To his frightening shock, he found that one of his gorgeous sideburns still carried a small candle-like flame and was smoldering. The humble hero turned momentarily vain couldn't help but jerk in fright and padded away quickly at it as if it were a rampaging forest fire that needed to be extinguished at all cost.

"Phew, that was close," he whispered to himself. "I gotta' get back to the battle. They need me. But first, I need a-" The knight stopped just to glance around where he was, and it dawned on him that he must have fallen through a thatched roof of a stable or workshop of some sort.

After seeing all the hanging chains, anvil, and all other sorts of metal crafting equipment, he concluded that perhaps it may have been formerly a blacksmith's shop. With his only weapon being just a dagger, he needed something more. War was raging just outside the workshop past the broken and unkempt double wooden doors leading to the city road.

And though he may have been fortunate to have been saved by the fall, unfortunately, wasn't graced by the goddesses to find a ready sword or spear lying around. That would have been too easy. However, something else did catch his attention. And as he was about to leave empty-handed, like a jewel sparkling in the distance, he saw a glimmer of hope. It was a sight for sore eyes.

Stabbed into an old tree trunk beside him stuck out a woodcutter's hatchet. Left untouched from a century ago. Maybe he had a little luck on his side after all, he smiled to himself.

It was just the sort of ax that would be used to break up small logs of timber into smaller bundles to stoke a furnace for smithing. A small hatchet. And although it wasn't his first choice to use for a fight since it appeared very old and rusty at its base. It would have to do since no proper weapons were around. He hadn't the time to scavenge for others or search other former residences in the old neighborhood. Time was slipping away fast. Right now, his priority was to get back to the battle to help the others.

So, he gripped the small ax, ripping it from the old bark it was buried into and waved it around a few times, testing it for usefulness and for sturdy construction. Just after a second of glancing at it, he realized that although time wasn't kind to it on the surface, it remained as sharp as the day it was made. After all, a small hatchet, hell, any sharpened edge of a blade in the right hands can be a formidable weapon. And now he had two to use.

And as he gazed at it a moment longer, a sudden memory from one hundred years ago came crashing into his mind, taking him away from that place and to a past he once thought forgotten.

Like whistling voices in the night, a chill wind blew through the winter woodland treetops while only the faint crackle and pop of cinders from a small campfire were heard behind a strong, wise voice of an older man, just as he spoke. "Good throw Sven. But remember to keep your footing and to really lean into your target," he instructed.

The young trainee nodded his moppy-haired head and jogged back to the massive pine tree to retrieve his buried ax from its bark to go for another try.

The older man continued his speech to both the boy and his son, who was preoccupied, minding a cast iron pot that was bubbling away over a night fire. The three of them were alone in a wild forest, surrounded by darkness. Link's attention wasn't to the wisdom of his father's stories or to the boy in training but to the mesmerizing orange glow of dim-lit embers, lost in a daydream.

Taking a break from puffing on his pipe with a full belly laugh, Link's father arose from the log where he sat, face aglow from the fire.

He spoke just as Sven caught back up to him for more instruction. "Used together, the single-handed ax along with a good knife are unmatched in close quarters combat. There are none better for hand to hand fighting. The trick is to use one to pull your enemy close as you offer up the other to deal the killing strike," Links father said voice full of excitement, motioning the practice as if he carried both in his hands all the way up to Sven's throat. A cool display he performed with grace.

Albeit a cold night, sweat trailed across the boy's forehead.

Intrigued but also slightly frightened by his story, Sven gulped back a few steps and swung the hatchet again. This time more carefully, getting a real feel for it in his hands while coordinating with his long knife in his other hand. Using all his effort and focus on working out the clumsiness in his grip, all the while wearing a gotcha grin on his sleeve, Sven tried what he could to mimic best what he saw from the Captain.

"I'm sorry I keep missing. I'll keep giving a go at it." The boy tried. " But, it's that the damn frost here makes it so hard to grip sir. I can hardly feel my fingers," Sven said, pausing for a moment just to warm his hands with the fog of his breath.

Link's father, Tye, smirked at his boyish excuse. He took a step forward and stretched out his hand for Sven to give him the weapon for a demonstration.

Link paid no mind at all and was still eyes focused on the fire and to the simmering pot, which held their supper.

Sven questioned. "If it is so great, then why don't all the other soldiers train with the hand ax? Why aren't they taught it?"

Tye held the ax upright and pondered a moment in remembrance, inhaling a long-winded breath for a speech. "Those in command and in all their great wisdom saw the hatchet as an inferior weapon to the sword, halberd, and lance. But, if we only knew then what we know now, things may have turned out differently for us…Many lives could have been saved. Your father and I saw of its ruthlessness firsthand during our battles at fort wilderness during the River Cross Rebellion."

"You fought with my father against the Oathbreakers during the war?" Sven said, attention flared and eyes widening, eager to hear more. "Mother never speaks of it."

"Yes, your father and I were the best of friends back in those days. Kind of like how you and my boy Link are today. Sadly, Talmage never made it back home from the war. I was one of the lucky ones," Links father said. A cold rasp was caught up in his throat from the memory.

He then took just a few more paces away from facing Link and Sven, opposite of the glow of the campfire, to glance up to the pitch night sky, which was beautifully contrasted by the flickering bright light of stars. They were miles and miles from civilization, completely isolated in the woods.

"The 'Minute War' they called it." Tye huffed in annoyance. "Those damn foolish high lords safely tucked up in their castles, and those do-nothing nobles from the capital thought the war would be over in a minute. They couldn't have been more wrong. And because of the quarrels they had amongst themselves and of their poor preparations, great men like your father were lost. Men that didn't have to die.

"The King himself even had to intervene in the end to make things right. And because of the delay of those former lords, those savages got the best of us!" Links father said, voiced raised to an angered shout. And without warning, he spun and hurled the ax beautifully through the air, narrowly twirling it right past Sven's face to the same tree he attempted earlier, nailing a perfect bull's eye.

The remarkable throw was over thirty feet away. Even that stunning display of skill momentarily caught Link's interest, his brows raised for just a second but quickly turned back his gaze to the simmering small cauldron.

The wise veteran continued. " You see, the savages who allied themselves with the rebel Oathbreakers there didn't fight like you or I. They were wild and fought with a ferocity the likes of which I have never seen up until that time."

Sven blurted a question, interrupting him. "Savages? You mean it wasn't just the Banner Burners and Oathbreakers that you fought against?"

"Heavens no lad. If it were only them, then maybe the war could have been won in a day. But no…It wasn't just their knees we had to bend. It turned out they had powerful friends. Friends that knew how to fight and use the terrain against us. Savages from the low country that hid among the thick forest. Believed all but died out ages ago. But, apparently, we were wrong. Their descendants lived on. Hidden from us this entire time. Descended from the very same stone worshippers and sorcery wielders of old. The Zonai they were called. If I reckon their name right. You may have heard of them."

"Only in legend, sir. To be honest, not much is known of them. Almost all records from the early ages regarding them have been lost."

"Tis true. Hence why we thought their kind were all but extinct, but we were wrong." Tye said with a lean, spinning abruptly to continue. A real fireside talk.

"Victory at all cost was their credo. No matter what it took. Winning was all that mattered to them. Brutal was their tactics, and they had no honor as men.

"They tore us to pieces on the field of battle. And they were even worse off the field. They were the masters of throwing axes and stone blades. And it was through our defeats we learned a great deal from them too," Link's father turned, sighed a heavy breath and continued, almost at a whisper. "Those of us that were fortunate to have survived the onslaught that is."

He then paced back closer to both the young men and started back up, full of vigor in his speech. " It was a cold winter, not unlike the one we are in now, and it was our last push against them before reinforcements from neighboring loyal houses could arrive to our aide in the spring. And even though they had answered the call of the King to help us put down the rebellion, it would take some time for them to help us.

"The way to us was treacherous. It was through miles of swampy marshes and muddy forest terrain, and that made it damn near impossible to venture through. The woods were thick. And if the cold of the winter didn't kill you, then the ague did. Such a horrible sickness it was that plagued us…And without the necessary Quinine Tonic from Tarble, many succumbed to its disease…And for the longest time, we were on our own. Separated by icy winter roads, unpassable.

" For two months, we waited for help, and all the while, we had to guard Fort Wilderness. We were on the brink of starvation, and the fort was the only settlement under our banner that protected the only northwestern road in between the lower provinces and the Marshlands of Tarble. We were tasked to hold the fort and the northern trade route at all costs. Or the kingdom would be cut off from north and south.

"It was their old savage commander Flatfoot that whipped us good. That's what the men called him, you know. 'Flatfoot.' Because he caught us flatfooted at every turn. Nearly wiped out our entire legion, and we had three times their numbers at the time.

"This, of course, was back when your father and I were still in with the regulars before I joined the Royals.

"Young Lord Edmar of house Hyrum was given charge of all the other lords' battalions to quell the rebellion." Upon remembering the man, Links's father sighed in disgust at the mention of him.

"He was a damned fool. Thought he could win the entire war in a day and promised such to those who would listen to his flowery nonsense at the capital. Charging off headfirst into battle all for his own vanity and glory. We had only enough supplies for a march, not a siege. But, that boy of a lord insisted to the others he could lead and moved the army ahead for war anyway.

"So, the enemy waited us out. Cut, slash, and run was their strategy. A brilliant one at that. Depleting our resources and wearing us thin.

"Like a wolf encircling a wounded deer, they waited ever so patiently for us to tire and give up until it was time to go for the throat and finish us off for good.

"It was their terrain after all, and they knew the land better than any of us. Goddesses know, If it weren't for the miracle at Meadowbrook, we all would have been butchered."

"Miracle at Meadowbrook?" Sven sat upon a nearby stump across from Link. Chin firmly placed into his hands, listening intently.

"Yes, you never heard of the great Miracle at Meadowbrook?" Tye chuckled as he slowly walked In a circle around the camp.

Sven glanced to Link for some affirmation, but he wasn't paying attention at all and received none. The young man was preoccupied. Trapped in thought, staring deep into the smoldering cinders below his feet. With no recollection, Sven shook his head in reply to Tye, unaware of that famous day in history.

"The Miracle at Meadowbrook. Ah yes, the Meadowbrook Red. The most ferocious little critter this side of the Western Sea-and all the way to the summit of Death mountain!"

"A cucco? Are you…serious?" Sven asked.

"As serious as death itself my lad," Links father continued to pontificate, slowly pacing around their campsite telling the tale. All the while, Sven's mouth hung low, fascinated by the story.

"If it weren't for that little bugger that crisp Sunday morning, we'd all be cooked cucco eggs.

"Ol' Flatfoot had us cornered against a swamp to our backs and low open plains to our front. They had the high ground. The fort itself was a ruin, burning with flames as high as the clouds. We were lost."

"What of the Lord commander? Lord Edmar?" Sven asked.

"Him!? That coward? Once he saw that the end was inevitable for the fort and that the help we called for wouldn't arrive in time, that slime snuck off with a fat sack of gold rupees and two of his own personal guards leaving us to fend for ourselves. I saw him gallop away with my own eyes!

"And as our boys prayed a final time to the goddess and were about to make our last stand, a miracle happened. A Single Meadowbrook Red appeared out on the field. Just right as you please with not a care in the world. Between the savage commander leading his army and us.

"As a show of strength or what have you, O'l flatfoot ordered the bird taken down. So one of his archers knocked a black stone arrow back in his bow and launched it right at the gizzard of the poor creature. A hush fell before both armies as they both stood still and watched.

"But nay, that bloodthirsty warrior's aim was not true, and the cock jumped up from where he lay, scuttled and angered. Barely missing the arrow. And before anyone knew what was happening, breaking the silence, it crowed three times to the sky. Thrice it did.

"And my goddesses, I swear to you an ocean of cuccos came flying in up from the heavens. Thousands of them from out of nowhere! Out from the trees they came, over the mountains and from across the sea! They came and swallowed up that O'l Savage flatfoot, pecking and clawing him until there was nothing left but his bones! Our men rallied at the sight, and their army fled in fear, leaderless.

Sven erupted with hearty chuckles nearly falling from the stump where he sat. " A cucco! One cucco did all that you say!?" Sven's laughed so hard his eyes were crying, and his side belly ached. Link, on the other hand, sat silent, perhaps listening.

"I'm serious, boy! It saved our lives," Tye stomped at his joking laughter. He then turned to them both with a smile of his own. "That…and the other army did, in fact, arrive just moments later across the River Laiola. Hence the name, the Rivercross Rebellion. And that was that.

"Despite our victory, the war was grievous. We lost your father to an arrow that day. I learned more as a young soldier in those battles than I could have learned in a half a dozen lifetimes of training. Train with the Ax and dirk. It is your lifeline when you lose your spear or sword. Remember that!" Link's father concluded. Wielding up the hatchet and dagger he held.

As that happened, the iron pot bubbled over, and their stew spilled by their feet, catching the attention of everyone.

"Eyagh!" Link gasped, waking abruptly from his daydream.

Tye scolded them both, himself included. "Who's idea was it to let Link watch after the stew!? Goddesses sakes, what have we done!? We know what happens when Link cooks!"

Noticing Link shoot up out from his daze to quickly fix the lid to the pot, easing it off the fire just so he could return to sitting on the log, he scolded him again. "Link, are you even paying attention to what's been happening here tonight? Have you not heard a word I said this entire evening? Link, this is important…Link!"

"Perhaps Link doesn't think he needs any more training? Perhaps, he thinks he is the best out of everyone, even you, Captain." Sven joked.

I know that you're a great warrior already son, indeed wheat among chaff, but even you still have things to learn. Even if you are better than me in combat now.

"Well, pride, when misguided, is a terrible weakness. One that my son will not succumb to," Link's father declared, being quickly caught off short by Sven.

"Oh no, it ain't that sir, he's been like that all afternoon. Even before you took us to this place," Sven chuckled again, even louder. His scraggly hair was blowing in the cold breeze. "He's hardly spoken more than a couple words at a time to me all day to tell ya the truth. Honestly, at first, I thought he had fallen ill. I even tried to get him to talk with a sweet slice of my ma's wildberry pie! Fresh from the oven. And that's his favorite. And what did I get, just a few mumbles and a sigh," he laughed again.

"Really, now!? Should I be worried? Is he sick?"

"No, he's not sick. It took me all day to figure it out, but his mind is not on fighting or pie, sir, if you could believe that one, it's on a girl! "

"A girl?" Tye cupped his chin curiously. What time does he have to meet girls!? What girl? The trials are in three weeks! He needs to prepare!"

"One with big pretty green eyes, honey-colored hair, and a smile that can warm your heart even on a frosty night like this. That type of girl, sir. Ain't that right, Link?" Sven ribbed jovially.

"What? Uh, sorry, no, I was just." Link shook his head.

"Well, what he should be focusing on is his training! Now, who is this mystery girl that has put a spell over your mind and clouded your focus?"

"It's nothing—" Link assured.

Sven blurted. "He said you saw her too, actually. You both did while you were training him earlier today by Romani's!"

"Sven!" Link snapped for his younger friend to silence. But he was too late.

Immediately Link's father felt as if he collapsed under a stone wall of bricks. "Ah, I see."

Sven instantly regretted saying too much. That he may have taken his sport of a laugh a little too far.

Tye arose again. "Son, you mustn't distract yourself with these childish ideas nor let them fill your head. She is the Princ—"

"I know, father," Link replied, cutting him short. "It's nothing. Sven talks too much. I'm just tired today. That's all."

But was it really nothing? Or did Sven hit the nail right on the head? Link pondered to himself. Quietly stewing over his own words and thoughts.

"Good. And let that be the end of it, son. She is the princess. The flower and treasure of all Hyrule and she alone carries the divine gift. So, you must remember your place my son. You are a soldier and a commoner."

"I know father. I said it was nothing. Really."

" Now…If you are lucky and find yourself blessed by the goddess Hylia herself one day, you might find yourself part of her majesty's Princess Guard. That would be the highest of honors a soldier a could ever ask for. And I would be very proud of you son.

"But lest you be distracted away from your training, thinking only of the batting eyelashes of young girls, you won't even get past these upcoming 'Trials of the flame' boy!" he huffed. "They only offer this chance of a lifetime once every twenty years to the greatest upcoming warriors throughout the entire kingdom, and I will be damned if you miss it! I had to fight and nearly die in a war to earn my right in the guard!"

Link nodded at his words.

Tye then leaned back and Smiled again at Link, remembering how foolish of young lad he was at his age, realizing perhaps he may have been a bit too had on the boy. But also ignoring Link's feeble attempts to brush away his feelings. "Son, I was once your age too. I know life has its fair share of challenges. And sometimes we get carried away by our passions. But we mustn't let them. The princess is a beautiful girl and a fine young lady. Just like the queen was at her age...And just like your mother was too! So, I know the struggle to hold back such feelings and focus on what's important!" He laughed.

His father then moved to sit next to Link by the fire to wrap an arm over his shoulder to stare into the crackling orange fire alongside him. He spoke a little more seriously now. "As soon as you're older, you will find yourself a sweet young maiden of your own. I promise. The time will come. Be patient. And she will be one like us." He said, chuckling quietly before glancing up and away.

"You too, Sven!" Link's father hollered to him as well. He had been walking around the campsite, giving Link's father some time to speak to his son to offer him up a teaching of his own. And with that, he waved for Sven to sit beside him as well on his other side so he can offer up an arm over his shoulder too.

"I know both of you will make me very proud once you get into the Royals. And I know it would have made your father Talmage proud too, Sven. Wherever he may be among the goddesses looking down upon us. I know he is watching and waiting with eager eyes for that day when you get into the guard. But the night is late, and we must rest for tomorrow. For tomorrow we train you both to be Royal guardsman. With the Ax and dagger!" He laughed again, firmly hugging both the boys as he sat beside them.

And just as fast as the memory came into Link's mind, it disappeared like a whisper on the wind.

Now blessed with his ax in hand, his father's memory, and the skill to use it. Link was ready. He needed to regroup with Sidon and the others to keep his oath. He vowed he'd avenge the death of those poor maidens from before who died at the merciless hands of that vicious fiend Malroc. That he would slay him once and for all, freeing the world of his cruelty. He believed those girls were owed at least that much.

Not to mention, there was the riddle of the Moon Pearl to solve, and if that was the ancient artifact they have been searching for this entire time. And if the enemy held it in their grasp, then there was no time to lose to retrieve it. For whatever dark schemes the corrupted were plotting with, it must be averted at all cost.