The Legend of Zelda and the Last Knight

by Skycloudrain

Calamity Ganon has been defeated. All is well in Hyrule and it would seem that Link and Zelda's troubles are finally over. However, not all is as it seems. With the Kingdom being left so long without a monarch, will all of Hyrule again unite under one banner? With new enemies, political turmoil and romantic tension, things are poised to get in the way of the celebrations.

36. Chapter 30 Flashback climax

Chapter 30

Flashback Climax

"Well, aren't you a curious thing?" The youthful wizard whispered to himself. He trotted his horse atop the prairie along the outskirts of the city walls. Easing his steed with a click of his tongue, he slid off to forage nearby, chasing a faint, glimmering glow coming from a bush not too far off.

"Yes, very curious indeed. I see. So, you must be the grand architect behind these series of unfortunate events and mischiefs as of late?" He said softly again as he reached down among the thicket, grabbing for a coruscating treasure to polish the shine of it gently in his hands with his cloak. The sacred luster of it lit up like torches back into the whites of his eyes. "Such small a thing and yet in your glare glistens the intensity of a thousand stars. If only you were left allowed to be unleashed. But, I know that which that forebodes you."

"No, not yet…" He continued to whisper. "Your time will come, old friend. Now is not the time to be greedy. As for now, we shall all wait. Time is the great reckoning and equalizer of us all. Entire wars have been fought and could have been won if not for just a difference in time. Down to the minute, as it were."

"The histories have shown us this. Besides, we are to be very busy today. A young and eager Princess beckons me and, one must never wait on a Princess, ya' know? Terrible things could go awry."

"Why yes, such swift and terrible things that could herald consequences so magnificent, that they could even undo the very foundations of the world if left alone to fester. Not… not that is necessarily a bad thing, per se. Because it has been foretold in the ancient scribes and songs that one day, the hidden and distant twilight road to heaven itself would be made straight. Once focused, it would reveal itself to the mortal eyes of men, and all would witness its splendor as it unraveled before them."

"Those pious ones who took it upon themselves to name them gods over us would finally be brought low from their high thrones. They who had looked down their noses with scorn will soon be met with the fire of their own reflection and affliction, and everything that was lost to chaos would soon be set to order throughout all the Earth."

"Yes, it is written. The song clearly says, 'Seven stars for seven sages, shall be plucked and flown from the heavens. There, seven maidens of their descendants shall carry their almighty relics of their lineage."

" 'Broken, they remain as remnants unless united and aligned. If they are not brought together, then there will be no more divine. Thus, three stars of which had already fallen, and three are left to find. The only question is, will the Princess of destiny be able to in time?' "

Kelcifer murmured the ancient song in a hum even as a few quiet laughs escaped the side of his lips after he finished.

He continued his pontification to the majestic orb. "I will live to see its rightful order and constitution restored. That I promise you, my friend. That the proper justice due to those would be served, and swift vengeance would be dealt upon the heads of the guilty."

"But today is not that day, nor do I foresee it to come too soon. As for now, and until then, I am here to lend a helping hand upon the course of nature… For in nature, not even the divine can upend. For even they are bound by the laws of their own making."

He beheld the artifact in his robed hand, continuing to engage it as if it were a long and trusted friend he met on the road. One greeted after an arduous adventure came to its conclusion. "Let's say we put a hasty end to all this nonsense, shall we, hmmm? Then we can move forward with what else needs to be done. Does that agree with you?" he said, eyeing the pearl deeply as if listening for a quiet reply for where there was none.

"Of course it does. Because it agrees with me." He finished with a sharp smirk, a small laugh breathing yet again from him as he glanced up to the castle to where the war raged. There on the grassy knoll of the city, he carefully secured the pearl hidden within a pocket of his robe. With that small gesture, he mounted his beast and kicked it onto the war, where he needed to be.

---

"Yes! Come to me!" Malroc roared. In a blink of an eye, coalescing red arrays of dark energy manifested a magnificent block to Link's assault before it suddenly scorched into a brightly burning physical object. Pulsating from that blinding evil light, a shield began to take shape from where the flickering glare was. Link beheld a malicious device that could have only been crafted by some demonic spell forsaken from a time when darkness reigned over the land.

It appeared as a carapace of some gruesome, ghastly bug, reinforced with thick iron bands. The thing seemed part shield, part spider, and part skull. What looked to be the vile remains of some grotesque beast from an ancient world that should have been forgotten long ago, had returned. An ageless armament hearkening back to the nightmares whispered only in children's stories, one of which that until now, to Link's dismay, became real.

The cataclysmic clash of bone and steel sent crashing waves of green and red sparks flying overhead in glowing spiral dances. The shockwave of their collision launched Link hovering in the air with a delayed hum of unnerving vibrations that rattled him from his ax to his bones. Although shaking him all the way to his core, he still found the strength to hold on to his weapons.

"That's the way, boy! Show me your wrath! Let your anger overcome you and bring it to fester in your soul! Let the fury burn within you." Malroc's eyes blazed with flames as he summoned dark power to shove the hero back.

A few laughs escaped the side of Malroc's cruel smile as he saw Link settle to the stone keep floor ahead of him. "Look who believes, no, thinks he is one of the KNIGHTs of legend… How… amusing…" Malroc gloated again in a deep laugh that trembled the tower.

His demonic vision scoured low from Link's feet up to the fiery gaze that was locked on him. The soldier was poised, in a battle stance, ready and focused. "It's a fantasy, boy…" he finished, with an unnerving creek and growl in his voice on his last word. "There hasn't been a KNIGHT alive in well over ten thousand years."

"So, what? Screw your damn legends! I'm the one that's going to defeat you! I don't need any fairytales! Here and now, it's going to be me! Just me! Link!"

"So, that is your name? How quaint and ordinary…" he laughed into his claws, "But be aware boy, I have seen the ferocity of many of true knights, and you are none of them! I've even defeated some in battle, as a matter of fact. I have been bathed in the blood of Mandrag. Set apart and sanctified by his perfect power when he still had the golden relics from an age even further beyond your comprehension.

"What makes you believe a pathetic specimen such as yourself could even come close to compare? What makes you think you might succeed where they have utterly and foolishly failed? What makes you think you can win when there is no hope? Soon, he will return in all his glory. His black trumpets will sound, and the heavens shall divide and bend their knees to his will as they were always meant to!"

Disgusted by his taunts, Link spat on the ground. The foul metallic taste of bloody spit singed his tongue. He was wounded, but that didn't waver his fighting spirit. Not one bit. Though the warrior couldn't be sure if he was bleeding so much from the fight, or because he was so enraged by the Titan that he bit down so hard that it drew blood.

Link stood firm in his resolve as a freshly smelted iron blade glowing from the forge of a hardened smith. "If you're so sure about that, then you're going to have to get through me first."

Malroc drew in a breath as Link interjected again. "So, are you going to face me or just stand there and wallow in your own dribble? So far, babbling seems to be your only attack. If you're as powerful a warrior you say you are, then throwdown. I'm ready; show me what you got!" He scorned while having a play at the old beast, right to where he thought it would hurt him most; his pride.

"Insolent child! I will break you down and tear you limb from limb." Malroc erupted, hawing back on his hind legs into the air, looming overhead like a doomsday eclipse. "Your flesh shall be scorched away from your very bones! You will beg for the end! The end you shall only see once I acquire my prize. Helpless, unable to be saved... and then, in your last breaths, you will see your failure complete!" He concluded with a closed clawed fist raised to the valiant soldier, slamming back down and centering himself.

"What?" Link questioned, uneasy and unsure what he meant.

That's when the knight caught the demon's eyes quickly scurrying over his shoulder to the side rampart, down below the castle walls. Focusing his devilish stare, he fixed on a single target. Her. And at that moment, Link knew everything and fell into a blinding rage. Drunk on anger and in a blood-boiling torrent, he lashed out with maximum ferocity.

He didn't care how powerful Malroc was or that he massacred entire armies under his hooves. That he erased them from the pages of history. He didn't care that he could devour an entire man whole with just a single bite. All he knew was that he had to save her from him. And that he was the only one that could stop him.

Even if it killed him. She would be safe, and Hyrule would be at peace at last. That's all that mattered to him.

Uncaring and unafraid, he went full bore. With all the power he had left, Link dashed after the monstrous behemoth with the rage of a hurricane. Link assaulted him with his ax and dagger at every opening, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Ringing out strike after strike, none made contact against the defiantly dancing monster to his dismay, since the fiend could anticipate every blow with a block from his impenetrable shield.

"You see!? You have no chance! No blade which you possess can pierce its hull! Especially not those pitiful weapons you wield in those fragile hands of yours. What a joke. And this… this is the man who I am to believe beat back the great one? I don't believe it!"

"Well, believe it… Because the criss-cross of my blades will be the last your eyes will ever see!"

"Will they?" Malroc boasted. "Even if I did this?"

The colossal monstrosity leaned back on his hooves and roared. "Now… you… are mine!"

Instantaneously, Link felt a rush of dark current consume him. Not some outwardly force, but from deep within his own flesh. Some plague he was unaware of had suddenly bottled up to the surface and surrounded him. His muscles bulged, and his veins pulsed like blackened poisonous vines.

"Eyarghh! What are you doing!?" Link demanded, collapsing to his knees before him. "What is happening to me?"

A fell voice that wasn't his beamed at him, echoing into his mind. Not that of Malroc but another, even more sinister. He heard it only once before. There was no doubt… it was him. The king of the Demons himself, Ganon.

Malroc reverberated with laughter. "You see? Only now, at your destruction, do you finally understand! It won't be me who destroys her… You will!"

Preoccupied with the sickness that consumed him, Link fought against his own senses. Desperately, he tried to shake away the compulsory commands to his body. In the struggle, the malignant voice in his head grew louder and louder until it sounded like an explosion of pure wrath. And now, like all the foolish others who came before you, are now… mine. Hero of failure… Hero of my own making. Hero turned to shadow…

Link's veins swelled so much that his flesh began to turn to pitch. Even his eyes flickered back and forth between blue and blood red. All seemed lost and hopeless. As he was about to falter, the strength of another spoke, piercing through the demonic voice that was raging at him. Like an arrow splitting the dark sky, it shattered it like a broken mirror.

---

At the foot of the castle, Simon watched the war exploding atop the tower alongside his marshals.

"What the hell is going on up there!?"

"It appears to be that knight m'lord!"

"I can see that Villamor! You think I'm blind?" Simon clenched his lance in his hands. "He just vanquished eight Lynels and scattered the remnants to flee, and you think I don't know who he is?

Villamor fell back.

Simon continued. "So, he thinks he can take on that monster all by himself? The hopeless fool…Well, fool or not, I'm not going to stand here and watch a massacre happen right before my eyes. He's too powerful, even for him. He's going to die if nobody helps him!"

"M'lord," Villamor questioned, unsure what else to say and slightly confused by his liege.

"I'm going!"

"But, I thought you don't like the lad?"

"So what! This is war. And yes, I may dislike him and what he stands for, but I care for my country far more than that; and if beating that beast is the only chance we have at truly restoring peace to the kingdom, then so be it!"

Simon focused and let out a breath of contemplation. "My Helmet. Now!" he said, palm stretched out for one of his men to hand it to him.

Braced for battle, Simon saw an opening ahead of him. It was a straight shot up some spiraling stairs that led straight to the bridge where Link was fighting on. There were hardly any enemies left that could slow him. And even if they were, he could easily dispatch them.

"Don't go, my lord! You could be killed!" Villamor pleaded. "Let the boy fight it out, and you wait. Maybe—maybe he could wound the monster enough. Just enough to weaken him. And-Then we can all surround him afterward. Then you would have all the glory to yourself!"

Simon eyed the man up and down atop his steed. "You disgust me, Villamor. You coward!? What sort of man you take me for! I may not like this lad, but I refuse to see any more Hylian blood spilled on this day! Even his. Not if I have anything to say about it. Get out of my way and out of my sight!"

Another marshal came to the side of his horse. "And what of us?"

"Clear the area here and find the princess. She is to be guarded at all costs. Don't fail me, or it will be you that will be skewered when I return. Understand me?"

The man gulped with a nod, hand across his breastplate. "Y-yes, my liege."

Simon couldn't understand it himself. This was just too perfect of an opportunity to rid himself of the troublesome Link and Malroc, yet he had already ridden off to aid the young warrior. What could have come over him? Even he didn't know. Just this once, he was going to do the right thing. Some goddess inspiration, perhaps? Or maybe some half-ass atonement for the many less than noble things he has done throughout his life? He couldn't be sure.

"Don't you die on me kid, I'll be there in just a few more moments. Hang on!" Simon breathed as he sped away.

---

Link fell to the ground while Malroc circled him like a lion ensnares his prey. Patiently waiting until its victim gives up its last breath of vigilance.

To Malrocs misfortune and shocking surprise, Link did not surrender himself. One foot after the other, the hero rose back up to his feet. Swelling darkness consumed his body, but in his mind, he was still there, and a sweet angelic voice spoke to his heart again.

"Fight back, Link! You must!" She said. "You already have all the power you need to beat this fiend. You just have to believe. Have courage, my brave warrior….now, unleash it!"

Overcoming all the pain that scorched his senses, Link belched out a war cry. So loud in fact that it could smother out the roar of Malroc himself, and all heard it across the battlefield.

In that instant, Link came to. The sickness inside him cowered and regressed back as he resumed complete control of his body, yet again.

Malroc went almost speechless. The monster composed himself and spoke. "What the… So, you still have some fight left in you after all… Okay then, now it's my turn! If you won't allow yourself to fall under his power, then you'll just have to die!"

Link opened his eyes and dashed away from Malroc's incoming assault in a flash of speed. In a miraculous flip over the beast, he slashed his hatchet right toward his mane. But, the victory was short-lived. This fight wasn't going to be that easy. The titan blocked with his shield and pushed him back before any blow could inflict upon him.

Link's burst of renewed life sapped a lot of his energy. Every advance he made tired him, and Malroc quickly was gaining the upper hand.

Until at last, Link was cornered.

"End of the road for you, my little Hylian friend… But, don't worry… You won't die yet… Not before you see your beloved princess be brought low and desecrated. Then and only then will I let you choke on your own death."

Unable to escape and defeated, Link attempted to raise his ax for a block. But, Malroc slashed away at his futile effort and launched it, spiraling out of his hands.

And then, something happened that Link did not intend. To both his and Malroc's astonishment, the beast wailed in agony. A spear was impaled into the side of him. Although just a minor flesh wound, it made contact. It was Simon, off his horse, and he had stabbed him.

The demon raged and seethed, all his attention now turning to face what pest could be bold enough to attack him from behind.

Simon's eyes bulged. Never in his life had he seen such ferocity. "Now's your chance! Get out of there! Link, now!"

"You dare? Filthy Hylian scum!" Malroc gripped the spear that was stuck in him and roared as he snapped it in two like a twig.

Malroc grabbed the broken dull end of the lance and whipped Simon with it, flinging him high through the air like a rag doll. His body bounced and collapsed near another adjacent wall of the tower.

"Now, where were we?" Malroc returned to face Link. But he wasn't there.

---

Back below, Zelda caught up to where Simon's men stood in waiting, escorted by her own.

"There you are, princess. Halt!" A man shouted to her while she rode alongside Sylmoor.

"What is the meaning of this?" She replied.

A squad of starsguard began to fall out and surround her. "We cannot let you go any further. We have orders to keep you safe."

"What!? There's no time! I have to get to the top of the castle! Now!" She demanded.

"Sorry, my Princess, Simon's orders."

"Simon…of course…" She breathed.

Sylmoor spoke up. "And I say she has clearance, or are you going to try and detain me too? Lest you forget who I am!"

"Your brother said you would say that. I'm sorry, but our orders are to hold you both until the danger has cleared."

"Well, tough shit! I'm pulling rank. In case you forgot, this is your princess you're talking to, and last I checked, she reigns supreme over all!"

"No can do. Sorry, you can't leave."

"What are you going to do? Kill us? Out of the way, fool!" Sylmoor shouted.

The men reached for their swords and raised them only at him.

Zelda was shocked that they would be bold enough to do such a thing, even to Sylmoor. "Wait! None of this is necessary. Please, let us through… Because believe it or not, I'm not about to let any of you get in the way of me saving my kingdom. I have been polite enough all my life, patiently waiting for over one hundred years, and I'm not going to let some ruffians squander what desperate chance we have left! I've come too far!"

She wouldn't let anyone prolong the danger of Link. Not if she had anything to say about it.

As she declared those words, the Zora Seabass caught up behind her. "Are these puny men hassling you, little princess?" He said, slapping his fist, cracking his bulging knuckles in his other hand with a grin.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, they are…" She said, turning to face the guards with a smile.

The squad paled before the massive Zora and relinquished whatever fighting spirit they had.

Simon applauded Zelda. "Nicely done, princess, you are quite the diplomat. Who'd have known!?"

"Thanks… It's a work in progress!" She beamed. "Now, all of you, you can either join us or get out of the way. Though, we would be much better for it if you came. We can use all the help we can get."

They all nodded, forgetting whatever doubts they may have had. Now, as one harmonious fighting force, they all raced toward the summit of the castle.

---

Up above, Malroc twisted around and raced to see where the hero had fled. It didn't take long. Link was kneeling next to Simon, who took quite the beating being cast aside to the wall. In a quick glance, Link noticed that the force that launched Simon must have been tremendous. The wall was cracked and splintered. If not for his armor, he probably would have been killed.

Link whispered. "Are you going to be alright?"

"Get off of me! I'm fine… You have your own problems to deal with. Stay focused! He's about to make his attack…" Damn, why did I try to save this kid?

Malroc stomped closer. "How touching… So, you want to die together? Far be it from me to let you down!" Malroc exploded, and a violent tempest swelled around him, filled with waves of black and negative currents that circled around him. His aura brimmed, and he puffed up his chest, stamping forward.

"What the!" Link said.

"This is it! We're done for!" Simon shouted, shielding himself with his arm from the oncoming onslaught.

In a blinding, blazing firestorm, Malroc's jaws opened, and a scorching fireball of flame torched right toward them. The heat alone would be enough to disintegrate them and the surrounding castle. There was no way out.

Link and Simon both flinched, accepting their fate. Then, nothing happened. No destruction. No all-consuming plume of incineration. Nothing.

To their shock, a fantastic wave of castle moat blocked their view. Sidon arrived and, with his newfound ability to harness the seas and all that exists within that realm, commanded a wall of water to extinguish the devastating flames of the adversary.

With the fireball expunged, Malroc kicked in anger. "Foolish Zora! How many times must I show your kind?"

Sidon exhaled, exhausting a lot of his power. The focus alone needed to command such a river of water was immense and took its toll on him. "Well, I guess you're going to have to do it one more time!" He smiled, catching his breath.

"Sidon!" Link exclaimed." Watch out!"

"Don't worry, let me take it from here. Get him to safety!" Sidon hollered back over his shoulder.

Malroc seethed to himself, his fangs drawing his own blood. "These wretched vermin are like roaches. Squash one and another comes crawling out from the walls."

"Vermin, am I? I like the sound of that! If it's coming from you!" Sidon finished, dashing toward him with both daggers in his hands. Elegantly he danced and leapt, dodging the monster's attacks. But, even he didn't know the intensity of what Malroc could unleash. The titan guarded every blow with his shield rendering Sidon's attacks fruitless.

Sidon cried out, slashing a perfectly placed strike against Malroc's mane. "This is for my sister! Now die!"

The blow was a direct hit, but to his misfortune, the monster only drew just a drop of blood. Far less than he would have hoped.

Malroc gleamed. "If you're so eager to die and meet her, then all you had to do was ask!"

In a rage, he grabbed the prince by the throat and flung him in the air just to catch him by his hanging legs. Unimpeded, he flailed him around like a toy, swinging his limp body from the stone ground several times over before throwing him into to crash into another wall.

Seabass made his way up the steps first to where the battle was, clearing whatever cretins may have blocked the way before being trailed after by Zelda and the others. "NO! My prince!"

Seabass saw the horrible barrage that Malroc dealt to Sidon and fell into a rage. He lunged ahead without thinking.

Zelda hollered towards the Zora soldier. "Seabass wait, no!"

It was too late though, he couldn't hear her cry and charged away. With his heavy sword in hand, he slashed and hacked at the smiling titan. Who moments earlier taunted him so cruelly by torturing his prince in such defiling way.

Malroc effortlessly dodged every blow. That didn't deter the great white shark; he bravely fought on. Their waring battle was a chaotic haze of sparks and dust to Zelda and Sylmoor, who couldn't keep up as they watched.

Seabass valiantly would slash towards him with all his might, but only the wind would be split where an afterimage of Malroc would linger, shortly before fading into a blur.

Malroc gloated as he laughed. "You're even weaker than the others… my slippery friend. But, if death is what you want, then your wish is my command!"

The demon went on the offensive. Then what looked like a split second to Zelda and the others, he grabbed the Zora in a chokehold.

Malroc laughed. Knowing no one was capable of stopping him.

Link rose back up to his feet and braced himself to fight, but Sidon was still reeling from his beating. Zelda saw he needed help and ran to Sidon to help him up where he fell. The prince managed to get himself back up to one knee.

"Thanks princess…"Sidon remarked, opening both his eyes where he fell.

"Don't mention it. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, just a scratch, I promise…Oh no!"

Zelda, Sidon, and Link's collective gaze was stolen away and shot toward the monstrous fiend. The three of them froze in fear, and all they could do was watch in horror as time stood still while the seconds of hell loomed over them.

Malroc taunted. "Say goodnight to your friend, sweet prince…"

Link couldn't move fast enough to get to the monster in time to aid Seabass. He was too late. In that instant, the horrible titan reached for Seabass's mouth. Seabass wailed helplessly in his claws, and the monster enjoyed every moment of it with a cruel smile. Then the unthinkable happened. Malroc reached over his face and ripped off his bottom jaw, shortly before tearing his head clean off from his body. Dropping it to the ground in a cold lifeless thud.

Malroc spun around, devilishly proud of himself, leaving the lifeless coprse to drain onto the stone floor. He waved his hands wide and spoke to three of them just as they witnessed his malicious act. "Aw, don't look so glum… I'm sure wherever he is, you're about to join him!" he sickly mused, taunting Sidon most of all.

Sidon screamed, eyes red with tears. "You bastard! You'll pay for that!"

Link's anger overflowed as well, and he continued his charge right towards him. Wounded or not, it was now or never.

Zelda's heart leaped into her throat, and the tears of anger, sadness, and bitterness consumed her. She's never seen Sidon tremble so bad. Never has she witness him so disheveled and broken. Not to mention, even she began to care for Seabass in that short time of getting to know him. He was good, kind, and had his whole life ahead of him. He didn't deserve such a desecration.

Something so unfair, so vile and despicable, right before her eyes, and like a frightened child, she didn't even lift a finger to stop him. She was ashamed.

But, with that regret bubbled a surge of anger inside of her. No more. No more loss of innocence. With her last breath, she vowed, never again. And even more than the feeling of regret, she was consumed by the hatred of Ganon and everything he represented. She needed to be rid of his filth, once and for all.

Malroc's cruel-fanged smile fixed on Zelda.

Link rushed to him and shouted. "Zelda, run! He is after you! You mustn't get too close!"

"Too late!" Malroc laughed and dashed towards her.

Zelda froze at Link's command, confused by what he meant. "What? Leave? But, no! Link, you're going to need this. I have—"

Her words fell on deaf ears. Link intercepted Malroc and resumed his battle with the titan, pummeling him to oblivion with a flurry rush of strikes. In the commotion he could not hear.

To the beast's surprise, the knight assaulted with such a fury that he knocked the breath out of him, ramming him straight toward the tower wall, shattering it into a million pieces of splintered stone.

It was too late for Link to hear her plea, and they both fell down to the ruins below.

---

And as the blast of their clash roared across the skyscape in all directions, dashing rays of blue and green sparks scattered all around. A numb and battle ravaged Link rained down faster than the stone he fell through.

He quickly found himself on the floor of some crumbling building among the city, engulfed in a cloud of dust.

Awakened to his head swimming with dizziness, he noticed his wounds were many now and that his vision became blurry.

Coming to for just a breather, he noticed he fell through what looked like a broken rooftop of some decrepit tavern from a time no longer remembered. Though, the sight of which triggered a feeling of nostalgia inside of him. A memory, or so he thought.

His weary eyes glanced about, and before he could find the strength to rise to his feet, the walls of which caved in around him, and his world came crashing down, swallowing him up. Using what strength he had left and tried as he might, Link reached out for the last glimmer of the light of day. And, as he thought it would be the last his eyes would see. Out of his control, he slipped away into the dark void of his thoughts, yet again.

---

The air was wet and cool. A calm mist lingered after a long day of rain, and the sun's soft glare had long melted away into the dusk of the sky. Night had come.

The wails and howling of stray dogs echoed while they rummaged for whatever scraps they could find, breaking the calm of the night as they made their way along the lonely main road. It was late. Most of the bustling city folk had long retired to their homes or nearby pubs and inns. Through the gleam of passing windows it could be said that the city for the most part was very much alive into the wee hours of the evening. Even as outside among the city streets it was calm enough that a single breath could be heard over the hills and beyond. Or so it felt that way to them.

Dimly lit lanterns dotted their path, leaving them to a soft glow. But, even with them alight, the flickering candles of the posts were quickly swallowed up by the alleyway shadows. They were now in the darker part of town. The district where commoners hardly frequented and where most would like to forget existed at all. And yet, that was where Link wanted to be.

"We're not supposed to even be here!" Sven argued.

"It's going to be alright, I promise." Link replied, raising a hushed finger, rushing past Sven as if he had somewhere he needed to be. He brushed by unimpeded, and in a spellbound hurry, he tied his pony to the stall post. The calming shim of the full moon lit over his face through a crack in the clouds that blanketed over them.

"But, this place? You sure?"

"Yes!" Link replied, securing himself, readying to enter ahead into the building. "Don't worry, Sven. Tomorrow, everything is going to change. You'll see. I promise. Soon we will be—"

Sven cut him off. "Yeah, maybe for you! You're the best."

"And what of it? What if I'm not? Did you ever consider that? Hmm?"

"What of it? Of course, you are! You have nothing to fear! These challenges that we are to face are nothing but a mere formality for you! But as for me and the rest, we will have to give everything we got and then some. We all know you're the best. Ain't that right!?" Sven countered, head tilted toward the silent silhouette lying in wait nearby, hidden in the shadows. Like a back alley cat, he approached stealthily until his face became apparent below a flickering lamp post.

Orin concurred with a shallow bow, unraveling the cloak that unveiled his draping brown hair. He cuffed his tan, cleanly shaven chin. "Yes, the best! Or at least, of which I have ever seen, and I've seen a lot. Most men twice your age can't even hold a candle to you in a duel."

"The best…" Link quietly replied to himself with a huff. He gently pressed against the pack to his pony, digesting their words into the depths of his mind and fragile soul. Unsure even himself.

But, he so desperately wanted to be, not for vanity, but for them. Those were his brothers in arms, and he did not want to fail their hopes and dreams. The belief that a mere commoner such as them could ever attest to the power of great and nobler men, the likes of which only told in the tapestries of the halls of kings. Incredible stories written into the fables of old. Such majesty that they only knew whispered in stories about nobles and mighty men of great stature. Not a farmhand come soldier by necessity.

He wished for them, and no matter how he felt, it was all expected of him just the same, regardless. "For your sake Sven, and of all of us—I hope so. But… I'm not so sure…"

"Nonsense! The commander himself has even noticed you. I think he has taken a liking to you." Sven heaved, helping Link finish by setting away one of his packs as they met shoulder to shoulder.

"Yeah, and by notice, you mean he has given me twice the chastisements and triple the chores." Link mused. Still uncaring of their words of encouragement.

"Well, isn't that the small price to pay for glory?" Orin imposed, slapping Link a silver flask in his hands for courage, whether for his belly or his soul. "No doubt he means for great things to become your destiny. Hell, perhaps even a chance for a shot at the Princess Guard sooner than later if you're lucky! That's the highest honor from here to Hateno and all the way to the snowy tops of the Serpent's keep!"

"None is greater! With that, you would be gilded with the Golden Wings of valor! Hyrule's highest honor. And, with that, I would fathom then even you would have much to be thankful for, I would think." Orin hooted. "Wouldn't that be a prize, am I right?"

Orin crowded with a low brow chuckle, elbowing Sven with a wink of satisfaction. Sven laughed in agreement.

The thought of Link finally having his long awaited audience with her majesty lit up a smile on both Orin and Sven. The idea that the two of them would be able to meet formally made them both swell with a mischievous delightful glow at the scandalous nature of it. A young, low-born boy within earshot and tongue of the Fabled Princess would be a sight for the centuries.

Especially, a Princess that was foreseen by the oracle to be the champion of destiny. One who would lead all the people to victory from the impending doom. This would make it one in an age. For nobility never had dealings with the underclass.

Sven hooted beside him. "Yeah, I bet he would like that, alright! He's been trapped under a spell ever since he saw her—"

"Aha! I knew it. I knew there was something strange about you the past few days. I beat you in a duel of log pulls and that never happens. Well, then, for your sake, I hope you do become a guardsman, and right quick! Because if you excel during the trials and are awarded the highest honor, you'll be gifted the Golden Wings, and then you'll definitely be able to meet and spend time with her!"

"He'll be able to do more than just that with her!" Sven squeaked.

"Oh yes, offering your 'protection,' of course." Orin teased Link with a wink.

Sven laughed and concurred. "Yeah, and who knows what might happen then!"

"Quiet Sven!" Link scolded sharply. "I have more duties from here and to the farm than I can count. It's not like that. Not at all. I don't even know her, nor do I care to. It's just… It's just that I have a lot to prepare for."

"But, admit it, she did catch your fancy?" Sven chided with a soft laugh, trying his best not to collapse within himself.

"…"

Orin blurted. "Well, I'm convinced! Silence can speak a hell of a lot louder and be more truthful than a thousand words! And if my boy Link likes the girl, then by Hylia, we shall find a way for him to meet her!"

The young fledgling proclaimed, unsheathing his sword in the air, skewering the wind like it was the mightiest of foes…or the very least, a wiggling fish. "Well, Properly, of course! We don't want to spoil his chances now." He finished, but in doing so, his arms fell to his sides, realizing their predicament even as he said that. "Though… that may be some sort of treason if he tried… He's not of nobility. Nor can he just approach the Princess without invitation. Hmm… What to do?"

The moonlight lit up Link's face as he eyed them both sternly, unimpressed by their friendly jabs. "Are you done?"

Orin grinned. "Not even close! The evening has only just begun, right?"

Link shoved past him, unamused. "Look, both of you." He said, stepping ahead of them before spinning around to embrace each of their shoulders with his hands. "I know nothing about that girl, nor should I care. She is the Princess, and that is all she will ever be to me even if—"

"Even if you were destined to protect her?" Sven cut him off, chomping at the bit to poke fun.

"No!" Link groaned. "Even if I were to ever see her again, I would never have… It would…" he was caught up in his own words but couldn't find exactly the right things to say. Even though he so desperately wanted to tell them.

"Never…" Link drifted away further, tongue-tied. The words he spoke choked him, and the very nature of them raged against his young soul.

He couldn't lie, not even to them. She did make an everlasting impression on him. As much as he would want to deny it. She did. Though their interlocking stares shared earlier the other day were short, it was enough. It was as if both their hearts were bound through the centuries. The fleeting memory of her glowing smile set a curse or blessing upon him, though of which he would never be able to tell.

"—Never what?" Sven said, leaning.

"Never… Never going to happen…"

"Link?" Orin asked, noticing the seriousness shone now across his face, even in the dark.

Link changed the subject. He had to focus on being a soldier. That was all he had. "What I want is peace. For you, the townsfolk, and my family! War is coming. And even with all that, if the world doesn't end…. I'm still needed by my father. Not just for the army but at home.

Rupees are hard to come by as it is for us. Three bad seasons we had thus far. All sour, and the collector still comes all hours of the day counting for a harvest payment."

"Why, that no good, squirmy, lowlife opportunist—" Orin raged, fist clenched at both his sides.

"No…" Link said. "Don't get upset at him. He, too, has a family to feed. He's just doing his job for the money lenders."

Link sighed. "But, I do confess. I wish I knew the reason why the orchard hasn't bore any fruit. Such a mystery. My father can't seem to make sense of it since he isn't much a farmer, nor am I, but this has been ridiculous lately.

"The field yields hardly anything. It makes no sense. Not even the Merribrook Maester and all his wisdom of sowed seed can dispel or explain the misfortune that has befallen us… I feel like this is a foreshadow of something terrible to come.

"With that being said, as you know, my uncle was the one who left my mother the farm when he passed. Though, in doing so, he has also left us with a world of debts. A lifetime to repay it would seem. So, if I can do my part, even if it's just a sliver of help, to even earn just a small share of what is owed, then I will do it.

"And if I have to farm, fight, or rip the very jaws of the devil Demise himself, I will! And if the time ever comes where we all must fight against the scourge of hell, I'll be there! Front of the line! That is my duty…"

"As will I Link—"Sven countered, his voice low and serious. "We all will…"

Orin nodded in agreement.

Link breathed, proud of his brothers in arms. "But, as for now, the trials are all I care for, and so should you. With Royal Guardsmen's pay, I will earn in a month three times what I ever could as a farmhand. But, none of that is going to matter unless we triumph over the trials.

"So, you see, that is why this is so important. And now, with this impending doom that is destined to follow us in the coming years, we all have even more to worry about. If life itself wasn't enough, now all this…? If true, it's life and death now… For all of us…

"But, in the meantime, I wanted to use this opportunity to spend time with you both, but not as soldiers. Who knows when we will ever get a chance such as this again? I guess what I am saying is… just this once, can I just go out for a drink with my friends and forget for one night what lies before us... Just for one night, where I can pretend that I am not Link of the Orchard Row and you're not Sven or Orin of…" Link's voice lowered, trailing at what to say next. "Whatever it is you…" Link smiled, unable to help himself before he was about to burst into a full-blown chuckle. "Scoundrels hail from?"

"We come from the same as you! Or, have you forgotten already?" Sven smirked with reprisal.

Link paused suddenly in front of them. A moment passed that felt like the morning would come before they finished their dubious deed. And when his friends were waiting for a rebuke, the lowly warrior turned and faced them. His stern face slowly wove into a slight smile. "That may be true. All I meant was—

"But, this place?" Sven argued, interrupting him. Returning to the point of fact of the whole debate as they met themselves at the doorstep of the tavern. He leaped to the front of Link, trying to sway him moving any further with a lift of his arms.

"Why here? Of all that is holy and gracious in this world? This place is ungodly. And I say that with the utmost praise and virtue I can find!

"They say this establishment is only for those of deathly service and not of the justly type if you get my meaning. Those of which that are the most unsavory and uncouth… Ill jobs of broken valor better left forgotten. Only the filthiest of muck come here to drench their sorrows or brandish their recent victories on their shoulders…As if they were war medals!"

"So? And will we not be victorious tomorrow?" Link countered.

"Well…"

"Do you not believe we will become what has been long due for us to be?

"Yes, but Link!"

"Then no more buts. Because here, we won't be missed. Like you said, Sven, this is the far side of town. The part of which we most certainly don't belong. At least, not the good lads everyone thinks us to be. The perfect place for a nightly escape. Well hidden among the shadows. And more so from anyone else who would be the wiser to look for us. Here we can be alone…

"And besides, we tried everywhere else that was to your liking. All the pleasant places overflowed with the light of those who think themselves better than what they actually are, were full. The city is overrun with outsiders right now. Or haven't you noticed? The Festival of the Flame begins tomorrow.

"This is the only place left. Everyone who could venture from the Eastland Sea to the furthest desert of the Gerudo Oasis has come here. Not to mention those from further beyond our borders, past the savage lands to other kingdoms like Hytopia and Labrynna.

"And I say, my dear friend, if this alehouse is good enough for the lowly of us, then it is good enough for me. I'm not afraid of what lies behind those doors, and neither should you. I mean, we will be Guardsmen tomorrow! We fear nothing!"

"But, your father? What will he—"

"What about him? He has long retired to the comfort of his bedsheets. Especially with what he has planned for us tomorrow. That you can bet."

"But!"

"What did I say about those? C'mon, Sven, weren't you the one that craved adventure. The one who said he was always up for a good time? I mean, you are the one who constantly blabs and dribbles on from dawn until dusk about how you never had a chance to rub shoulders with real men of the swift and violent sword, and now, the opportunity practically comes begging itself before you to meet such veterans, you want to tuck tail and run? If not now, then when?"

Sven remained quiet, Link's words swirling around him. Orin eyed Sven before slowly turning to smile at Link in approval of his verbal jabs.

"I think not." Link returned with a smirk. "Let's see what all the fuss is about. Let's see if any of these so-called ruthless warriors are worth their tales in rupees."

Orin nudged." Yeah, c'mon Sven, tonight we drink, and tomorrow, goddess willing, we become Guardsmen! Wouldn't that be a sight! We would become soldiers, nay, Royal Guardsmen for real!"

"If you say so…" Sven gulped.

And even as Link said those words to his young friend, deep down, he agreed with him. This wasn't the sort of place a good knight prospect was to be found at. Not even in contemplation. Nor a place he even wanted to be, truthfully. But, silently he knew, he had things to ponder, something he wanted to forget. Someone to forget. And if a good keg of ale could cast a spell upon him to let go of all the worry, he shouldered, even if it was just for one night, so be it.

"After you…" Sven swallowed again.

Not waiting for another second to hold up against Sven's apprehension, Link reached out for the door unabashedly and unlatched it open. And, before any of them could change their mind or dash away, they were now inside.

The doors swung open, and in one collective gaze, they saw all the hosts that were gathered before them.

It was a den of drunken soldiers lining the halls with their tables filled to the brim with mugs of ale and platters of food. The meeting hall reeked of song, play, and revelry. A soldier entertained as a bard on his off time, prancing and dancing about with his harmonica atop a table, kicking empty flagons as he pranced about in the smoke-filled room, performing to the tune of laughter and unrestrained mayhem. It was too late to turn back now.

They were met immediately with the front countertop. Before they could dash away edgewise into the depths of the tavern, a round-bellied man with massive arms the size of two Hylian heads approached them. "Hey! This pub is for Soldiers only!"

He spoke in a deep but bumbling voice. "I said, this alehouse is only for soldiers!"

Intimidated instantly by the sheer size of him, Sven gasped, and before he could yelp up a plea of regret to give up their charade, Link butted in with a speedy reply.

"And we are…"Link said coolly.

"Are you now? Kind of young to be soldiers, aren't you?" The man said, massaging his mustache ever so carefully with his fingers as he eyed them from head to toe. " This tavern is for soldiers of his majesty the king. Men with time served and those who have given in blood to the crown. Not enlistees or fledglings, ya hear? So if you don't fit the bill, then you're going to have to show yourselves out! Now—"

"What did I just say?" And before he could finish, Link stretched out his hand and forced it over the barkeep's open palm across the table. And before he could pull away, Link slapped two glistening red gems silently into his. The man paused and stared at the cool-eyed young man.

Meanwhile, the entire room bustled behind the barkeep, unaware of their exchange. Hoots and shouts could be heard as the room reverberated with slurred songs and belligerent merrymaking.

And for what seemed like years, the man finally breathed out a faint chuckle. Delighted by the payment. "I see." He coughed, rearranging his belt straps over his shoulders. "And are you looking for only a table at the Dragon's Flagon or a room perhaps? Mister...?"

Mister? Link didn't know he would have to give a name. Shouldn't the treasure have been enough to settle this loot lover? He couldn't possibly give his real identity. They weren't soldiers yet. It would give them up for sure. They were only Fledglings.

The thought of turning away crossed Link's mind, but a sudden urge came over him before he did. An inescapable feeling deep inside of him forced his lips to speak without delay.

That was something he was most unaccustomed to doing. Yet, he did so anyway. And he spoke in such a way as if he knew it was the surest and truest, safeguarded secret he has ever known in his entire life. Yet, it wasn't. Or was it?

"Skyfire… Link, Skyfire…" he repeated.

Orin and Sven's mouths fell low like catfish, looking at each other, confused by the ruse Link was playing. Who the hell was Skyfire, and why would Link utter such an outlandish name?

"Skyfire, eh? That is quite the name… Whereabouts is that from? I've never heard of such a family." The man said, scratching what little hair he had left on his head. And then it hit him like a bomb-chu exploding in his face. His eyes widened from ear to ear. "That isn't from the old Skyfires of the scorched Hallow, right?" His voice raised and sped. His heart raced at the very thought of it. "That cannot be, that's impossible, I mean they are nothing but Lege—"

Link hesitated, he never heard of such a tale himself, but he couldn't let the man take it any further and had to dispel any misgivings he may have contrived. But on the other hand, he had to keep up the jig or be caught. It was too late now, so he cut the prying man short as quickly as he could. "No… You never heard of them. It's not of what you mention. Pure coincidence. I'm from the Sapphire hills of Mayberry. I'm all that is left, and these are my kin. Though they hail from a different house." Link said forcefully, voice raised. He meant it.

"No need to get defensive, young warrior; after all, we are in business together now, you and I." The barkeep shrugged. Quickly forgetting whatever hunch he may have had of the three.

And with that, he gave a quick elbow and a smile over the table, grateful for the shiny gems. "The name is Barley. Of Barley Mead. And this is my humble tavern, the Dragon's Flagon. Though most of the city folk stay clear for the reputation of the place. But, those who are permitted, I swear, they do stick around for the show if you get my meaning!" He said with a full belly laugh. " I promise you, we have the best brew south of the King's road. I can promise you that! And if anyone tells you otherwise, then they are a sworn born liar or are in league with the devil Demise himself!"

Link nodded. It worked.

Barley roared again. "And if you have any more of that shine, the likes of which you shone me tonight, we will be great friends indeed, and there will be plenty here to fill your gobs and then some. So, please, find yourself a comfortable seat, and I'll make sure that the lil' wench and Madam Misty serve you up real nice!" He finished with another laugh and nudge.

"Thanks…" Link returned, not before ushering his friends cautiously over his shoulder to follow him to an edge corner of the room. That was where they could stay away from most of the ruckus that was bouncing and mischievously running amok in the boisterous room. Where they can be left alone to talk and watch without interjecting themselves in anyone else's business too much.

"So, Mr. Link Skyfire?" Orin's eyes lit up like a firecracker. He was giddy as if it was his birthday and his father presented him with a genuine hand-strung Rito bow. "Now, that is someone who I would sure like to meet, wouldn't you, Sven?"

Link cut him off before Sven could jump in. "Shhh. I don't know. I don't know why I said that… Let it go."

"Ah, c'mon. Something surely made you say it? So, what gives, Mr. Skyfire?" Orin chuckled.

"Nothing, I swear… well… it was something, I don't know…. Something deep inside of me… Like a voice that I have always known, yet, never heard before told me to say that… But, it was familiar, like I've always known. Like a dream… Or a place I've been… Have you ever had that before?" Link said, head over his shoulder just as he met up to their table.

"What? Do tell!" Orin chuckled. "I definitely want to hear this! And here I thought this was just going to be another boredom riddled, listening to Sven mope that he can't do a chu-chu race kind of night! I'm sure glad I came! Hoo boy! This is getting interesting now!"

"It's… Not like that… I don't know…"

Sven spoke, closing the space between him and Orin. His eyes were serious and unamused by Orin's teasing. "What do you mean like a dream, Link? Like someone you know?"

"No… Or, yes… I don't know… Something… I can't… Never mind, forget it." Link countered, sliding up his chair across the musty and crumb-laden bar floor to their table, awaiting the tavern maid to drop off their first round of celebrations.

Even though this was a night of anything but that for him. The weight of everything pressed upon him like a towering monument. Crushing him until it collapsed his body and pitted his gut. That just as he thought he would be rid of it in his thoughts while being sidetracked by a happy moment, it would leap back into his throat, weighing him down again. Not only the worries at home but what was at stake for everyone. The whole world.

What if the coming prophecy was true, and they really were on the eve of war? How could they possibly win against a demonic spawn such as that? No one could face that, he thought.

Who would be the second champion that was fated to appear and join hands with the Princess to save them all? Link imagined that the man who would come would be a great soldier. Just like the legends and myths of old, maybe even better. That he would come down gliding on a golden cloud of starlight or even a mythical Loft-eagle, and that the sword he wielded would be as terrible as a bolt of lightning.

But, who? Could it be a man here? Was it one of these soldiers that were so joyously sharing and spilling drinks in here tonight? Could it be, and if so, when would he reveal himself to them? The hour was drawing nearer, and yet, no one was close to being found. These thoughts stirred in his mind, and before he knew it, a pretty face leaned over him.

The lace to her weathered gown and apron was torn and ragged, and the sweat of her ginger bangs slicked to the edge of her pointy ears, but nevertheless, she was still radiating. She was a beautiful girl, no, a woman. At least a few years older than Link and the others but most definitely younger than twenty-one.

"So, what will it be, handsome?" She said, smiling, happily amused by the aura of the tavern. She genuinely loved the job she had.

"Huh? What?" Link was torn from his busy pondering while he sat. Something that had been happening to him much as of late.

"What will it be? You know, for you and your tough friends there?" She said teasingly, wearing a glowing smile, clearly speaking in a northern accent only heard far away from the lake country. Her dialect rolled off her tongue in a highland brogue, as did everyone else who hailed from the province of Tarble. It was a treat to hear for them since it was far from what they were used to.

Link's face drew a blank, and she leaned even closer to reiterate her stance, chest pressed closer over the table.

"Ya know, I haven't all night to stare into those dreamy eyes of yours! In case you haven't noticed, my bar is full of thirsty paying customers! So, if you're not going to order, I'm going to—

"What?" Link shook in his seat, rearranging his eyes on hers.

"Ugh, What do you think this sort of place is?" She palmed.

"Oh, sorry, I mean no offense…"

"Of course you don't… Why would you?"

"Well, in that case, we'll have—"

"Too late! You'll have three hard ciders! And that will be the way of it!"

"Wha—"

"Because you spoke too soon, and I say so. They will do you good, and I can always tell."

"But—"

"But nothing! You will do me this kindness, and I need to get rid of them anyway. Ya see, the last lot of bumbling, stumbling fools that sat on your bench left me high and dry. So, you will have them, and you will enjoy them. Understand?" Her eyes squinted on him, still playful yet forceful like they were caught in a world of trouble if they so much as refused.

"But."

Her voice raised. "I said you will enjoy them, is that clear?!"

"Yes, ma'am." The three of them unanimously repeated with a gulp.

"Good! Now, with that out of the way, is anyone hungry? Misty makes the best skewered roasted fish and venison potage."

Link coughed. "The drinks will do, Ma'am—"

"What in Demise's hell is this Ma'am business you keep repeating!? I'm not out to anchor yet! I would have you know that I'm in my prime! I'm only twenty!"

"Sorry, ma- I mean Miss, or—"

"It's fine. I suppose I can let you off the hook… since you three are all pretty cute if I say so myself! Not too often do I get such… customers that are easy on the eyes, if you get what I'm saying." She laughed into her hand. "Also, the name is Marri. And before I get yours, I must be tending to my duties and your drinks. I'll be back in a wiggle of a lamb's tail! Don't run off too far now!"

And with that, she was about to scurry away, but before she could, Link forced out a reply. "Wait!"

"Huh? What is it?" she said, spinning around.

"Do you have… anything else? Other than the cider, I mean?"

She blinked and then giggled again."Well, of course! This is an alehouse, ya' know?"

"Yeah, but anything—"

"Ah, I see! I know what you want! Sheesh, you must really be in some trouble. But, don't worry, I got you. You want something just strong enough for the belly but not too weak for the head? Let me guess, it's a girl? Right?"

"What! No, it isn't anything like that!" Link contested, waving his hands in the air erratically like a wayward little boy caught stealing a Cucco from the egger in the square.

"Yeah, yeah, I have seen it all before, 'Ocean eyes'… You can't fool me with those. With a face like that, it's definitely a girl. Hmm?" She said, tilting her head toward Orin and Sven for confirmation.

A priceless, yet blank expression wore on both of their faces as beads of sweat rolled down. And if on cue without muttering a word, they both turned red as a hydromelon.

She laughed softly into her hand before roaring into a full belly giggle. "Exactly what I thought. I can always tell!"

But, before she could oblige them, she cleared the ache to her side and wheezed a long breath. Her hands were then firmly placed on her hips. "Unfortunately though, the shipment of our strongest drink failed to make the narrow docks today. And with the city as busy as it has been these past days, it will be some time until we are stocked with any good Modeira from the vast vineyards of Bountiful… Any barrels left to spare have been already acquired by the Royal court for the festival."

"I see…" Link whispered. "It's alright, no need—"

"Hey! I wasn't finished ya, know! No need to be rude!"

Link fell back in his chair. "But, I wasn't trying to be—"

"Of course you weren't! Now, if you must know, we do have a brand of something special. It's different, though, not to what you are accustomed to. You can bet."

Orin's eyes lit up. Out of three of them, he fancied drinks the most. Having plenty of his fair share of hoot-filled nights of dancing and table games. He believed himself to be quite the card shark. "Oh!? Do tell!"

"Hey! I said, let me speak!"

"Oof! Sorry…" Orin said, collapsing his hands over his mouth as the cute girl stabbed him with a death stare right into his soul for interrupting.

"Like I was saying… I must warn you all, it's quite strong. Although from what I was told, the effects only last about oh, thirty minutes or so. After that, you should be okay. Well, as okay as a couple of lads as yourselves could be sitting in a pub, I suppose."

Link cut her off yet, again. "What is it?"

"I'M GETTING TO IT!"

"Riiiight, sorry," Link huddled back, the fury of her stare tased him from head to toe.

"Better…" She said, fixing her apron pretty as she stood. It was as if she was about to give a speech to the king himself. "It's a brew specially made by the one and only, Mad Madam Moon. The extraordinary, otherworldly, most peculiar potion master this side of the Western Sea!

"It's said that just a jigger worth splashed into an ordinary ale or cider can multiply the effects of any drink several times over. And with just two jiggers, the spell could put the drinker to sleep for two whole days. She calls it Mirrior-shine. Are you sure you're up for it?"

Link hesitated, but Orin nodded for them before anyone could contest.

"Well then, I'll be back in just a moment. It should give you all quite the boost. You'll catch up to the hour in no time! That's for sure. Tee-hee!" She finished with a wink. Then with a swing of her hips, she twirled around and headed back behind the bar.

They all breathed out a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived. Not even halfway to the bar was the young lady grabbed by her arm forcefully by another patron of the alehouse.

It was a man sitting with a gang of his friends. All were soldiers, yet they were not Royal Guardsmen, nor were they from the city. But, if they weren't regular soldiers off patrol or Guardsmen, who were they?

The man sat and shrugged back. He was cocky and relaxed with his legs wide open on the bench, arrogant and daunting. With not a care for what anyone thought. After all, who would dare to challenge him? This was to be his stomping grounds for the night. He and his entire crew were definitely acquainted with death, and they meant to show it. Was it for intimidation or just arrogance?

And that's when it dawned on Link. He was now confident who they were. He heard numerous stories growing up from his father, but he has never encountered or seen such ruthless killers before in person. They never come to the capital. But, this wasn't an ordinary week. This was the Festival of the Flame. All would come to joy in the splendor of the celebration that was to be held in the coming days.

These rogues were infamously clad in their unmarked, dark leather armor. Underneath, they were gowned in all black, save for the unmistakable heraldry emblazoned across their chest and ebony-clad shields that gave them away. An insignia that left without would make them appear as dark and deadly as the night to anyone who may have crossed them along the road. This left Link with no doubt who they were.

The notoriously faded gold and triangular-shaped stone being choked by a slithering forked tongue serpent. That was their crest. The snake's fierce eyes pierced like glistening diamonds, and its fangs were as vicious and gruesome as blood-soaked knives. These were the Draene Dagger Dragoons.

More akin to hired cut-throats than actual soldiers. Infamously known far and wide by all as the most ruthless of trained assassins. Their shadowy reputation preceded them. And as brutal as they were, they were given free rein to operate under the banner of their Lord of Stonelands, within their territory, of course. That being said, even if they were to act beyond their borders, who would be the wiser to know or, even more foolishly, dare to stop them?

They were given full license to freely act and carry out even the most egregious of murderous and mercenary acts under the guise and protection of 'noble soldiers' on duty. If the Starsguard were the best of the best of Illiastar, then the Dagger Dragoons were indeed the elite of Draene.

The middle-aged, fearsome man of the group twisted the tavern maid's wrist as she waltzed past him. In his other hand slammed down the sloshing mug of ale he had. One of many you can bet he had that evening.

"Hey! And where do you think you are going in a hurry!? You weren't so busy getting back to work while you were talking to those young lads over there! Why don't you continue your break and rest that nice round rump of yours right here?" he goaded, gesturing to her to park herself on his knee.

The brute laughed, egged on by his fellow soldiers. "The brew can only taste so sweet, and you've been taking way too long over there with those boys that you left my hardworking men and me over here to die of thirst. It's been a long thirteen days on the road, ain't that right, boys?" He said, making a show of it to his comrades who were just as restless as he was. They all smirked and gawked.

"Ah, c'mon lil' Marri, why are you acting that way? So ready to scurry off in a hurry without giving me a proper greeting? Why, don't you remember me?"

Being a professional and quick on her toes, she knew his type. Composing herself fast, she spun around to the foul-mouthed man's taunts with an eager wink hoping that would be enough to appease his advancements. Pouting her lips, she leaned in closer behind him, her arm still held in his hand.

She gently whispered in his ear before he could breathe another slick-tongued cat-call to her. "I'm afraid I do not… My apologies. I have been known to be forgetful from time to time. Oh, I know, perhaps later you could remind me? Maybe then we can really get to know each other?" she finished, softly tickling his ear with her breath to his distasteful delight.

The man's eyes lit up like stars, and like the ill-mannered brute he was, he overeagerly squeezed her thigh from the side of her dress, an inch from her cheek and out of view of the others. "Now that is a little more like it! See how lovely things could be when you decide to play nice? I, too, can be friendly. I can be a friend to you."

Feeling the ogre's grubby and defiling fingers caress her, she instinctively and instantly maneuvered the situation back in her favor while he was too busy salivating over her. Daintily she reached out for his mug from behind her on the table, casually spilling it all onto his lap accidentally, or so it would seem to everyone in the room who watched with stunning approval.

It was a swift unsaid punishment to him for behaving so brazenly fresh upon a young lady he just met. One that was most certainly not that kind of woman. "Oh, I'm sorry," she chirped with a flirt. "I'm kind of new here, and my hand must have slipped. Here, let me get you and your men all a refill!" She said, letting loose from his grips before his anger could get the best of him. "On the house, boys!" She finished, grabbing the line of empty cups that littered their table.

Drenched, the flustered man floundered where he sat, and his comrades erupted into laughter the show afforded them from the darling tavern maid, Marri.

And with her stunning performance finished, she curtseyed and walked away with her victory.

The red-faced man yelled just as he was about to get out from the bench. "Why you!? Nobody makes a fool-"

But, before he could, his compatriot laughed beside him and settled him back down. "Cool it, Farga." Easing his friend as he chuckled. Not before shortly shouting to the maiden walking away to the back of the bar. "You just make sure to keep those smiles and drinks coming! He'll be alright if you can do that."

And, just as quickly as the little ruse happened, she was back to Link and the others. Five minutes must have passed, and yet, again, she broke Link's spellbound gaze from his thoughts. His friends were busy chatting with each other.

"Here you are! What did I tell ya? A wiggle of a lamb's tail!"

Link lit up at her swift return. "Oh, yeah, thanks."

"Don't mention it, dollface!" She giggled, sliding each of them their flagons full of the mystical witch's brew.

The three of them glared at their mugs, mystified at what it could actually be.

"Well, aren't you going to give it a try?" She poked.

"Well, yeah… Sorry." Link said.

Orin hooted and cheered, raising his gob high in the air above his head yet careful not to spill a drop of the delectable, drunken delight. "Well, bottoms up!"

Not wanting to be left out, Link drank. Unaware that the others were only taking a sip while he drained the whole mug.

Orin gasped. "Uh… Link… You weren't supposed to pound it down in one gulp!" His once tan face now flashed ghost-pale.

Marri giggled. "Too late…"

Link stoically set his empty gob down and replied coolly. "Oops. Well, no use crying over spilled milk now. Or, in this case, drunken brew."

Marri gasped. "Uh oh, I'm afraid you're in for a wild ride. The last man who I heard that drank the same concoction as fast as you did, disappeared into the Willow woods, only to be found days later as a Stal-tree." Marri insisted, the seriousness of her demeanor now replacing the giggles she had earlier.

"Stal-tree!? The hell is that?" Orin demanded to know.

"Well, it's sort of like a Stalfos," she leaned next to Sven, nudging him with her elbow and waving her mouth to a whisper. "If you believe in such things, that is." She reoriented herself again, continuing to address them all. "Except, instead of becoming a man made of bones, you become a mindless thing of bark and stump. Quite a miserable existence, if you ask me."

All three of their faces turned to shock and silence. Link most of all.

Marri, couldn't help herself to keep up the charade. She bursted into laughter. "I'm totally kidding!" she finished, proceeding to walk away.

But, as she did, she beamed back over her shoulder with a final say. "Unless, I'm not…" she giggled again, walking further back to the other busy side of the tavern before any of them could ask her what that meant.

Orin reoriented himself to face the others. "I'll say… Well, if one of us goes down, we go down together. Right Sven!" he said, sliding his mug across the table to cheer Sven, waking him up where he sat, egging him to chug after him. They both put their lips to the rim of their cups, and just as they began to guzzle it down, Link stopped them.

"Wait, hold off…" he said. " I think I feel…"

"Huh?" Orin set his mug on the table. "Feel what?"

"I don't know… I don't feel bad, nor do I feel like I'm turning into a tree, but I do feel something. I do feel an effect. A strange buzz. It's probably best if you two drink slowly. Let's give it a while, okay?"

"Sure thing by me." Sven concurred with a sigh of relief. Glad he didn't have to give it all in one go. Out of them three, he had the weakest constitution and hardly had a head for strong drink. The last time he partook heavily, he wound up falling asleep, found the next day lying in a random stable among animals. It wasn't pretty, and that particular farm owner had some choice words for his late-night misgivings.

"You sure you're alright, Link?" Orin asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine… Just a little tingly is all. It's no big deal. In fact, it's what I wanted."

I wonder why Link is so eager to get a buzz on. He must be more stressed than I thought. I better keep an eye on him. He never drinks, Orin pondered quietly before replying. "Well, if you say so. I'm still going to drink. Perhaps not as fast as you but, I'll be wetting my lips just the same. I don't want you getting too far ahead of me."

"Sure thing." Link nodded.

Sensing a change of conversation, Sven spoke out. "Hey, Link, So what's the deal with that Cockshire guy?"

"Oh, you mean Regoso? What about him?"

"Yeah, what's his problem with you?"

Orin blurted before Link could respond. "He's just jealous that he fights as bad as he looks!"

Sven's mouth fell to the table, even though he was about to laugh. "You've gone too far, Orin!"

"Too far? You've seen the way he talks down to us. He's just mad because even with his high-born, fancy prancy name, he isn't half the soldier we are, especially Link. Not to mention, shares in any of our good looks." Orin then gave Sven a twice-over stare, not before leaning back in his seat to kick his feet atop the table.. "Well, speaking for Link and me, that is."

"Hey!" Sven snapped.

Orin howled with a hearty chuckle. "Easy, I'm just kidding. You have your qualities. I'm sure the ladies totally love the mop for a crop look." He laughed again.

Sven stomped where he sat.

Orin continued. "But, all messing around aside, the thought of being beaten by mere commoners like us drives him mad. And If I was born with a name like Cockshire, I'd be walking around pissed all the time too.

"If there is a Goddess, I swear she must be good indeed because if anyone deserves it, it's him. Serves him right for all the things he's done to us low bloods."

To their surprise, Marri had returned, but not with just more drinks, but food as well. This time she carried a platter of various types of smoked meats and a loaf of freshly baked sourdough bread from Misty's kiln. "Here you go! I know you didn't ask for it, but I'm certain that after one bite, you won't be complaining. I also figured it may help your friend there soak up some of that tonic he drank. It's worth a shot," She said, beaming towards Link in particular.

"I'm fine, honest." Link replied coolly.

"Sure you are! Then if not for the drink, then how about for Misty? She prides herself as the best baker this side of town."

Sven interjected, playfully pounding a fist on the table. "I'll have to see about that. My ma is the best that I know of."

Link nodded in agreement.

"Oh, is she now? Well, you tell me after you all had a bit of her cooking. Then we will see who is oven master in these parts." She winked, with her hand perched at her waist.

Out of nowhere, a vulgar shout rang across the dining hall. "Hey! Marri, how about a little less talky and a bit more drinky drinky! C'mon, get that sweet tail over here! I'm going to die of thirst!"

"Goddess willing. One can only hope." Mary breathed, gesturing with her hands across her heart in silent prayer before wiping her face of exhaustion from the man's belligerent and perverted behavior all night.

Link's eyes narrowed at the clownish brute, but he was too slow to the draw, and before he could stand up, Sven was already up out of his chair, almost about to charge away.

"You need us to take care of him?" Sven asked Marri.

Marri's eyes glistened at the young lad, "No, I think I can handle this lot well enough. You boys enjoy your ciders. I didn't fuss all this time to make them for you to spill them over with a scuffle. I'll be back momentarily." She finished with a cute wink that stuck to the cheek of Sven. For a brief and short-lived moment, he was in love.

With a blush, he sat back down while Link stirred his mug with a shake of his hand. Eyes squinting as he refocused on his thoughts, gazing into a trance at the swirling liquid as it went round and round. It was calming and peaceful among the ruckus of the hall.

In jest, Sven and Orin continued to chat and fight over the specific types of delectable meats on the platter. Though, to both their amazement, as if it was indeed the sign of the times, Link didn't go for a bite. He was trapped in a mesmerizing gaze at his drink, not wavering even for a second.

Orin spoke with his mouth full. Half a sausage still hung out from the side of his lips. "Hey Link, you sure you're alright? You haven't touched a thing?"

"…"

"Link…? Link!" Orin continued, waving his hands over his face.

Coming to, Link snapped back. "Huh? Oh, sorry…"

"Geeze! Have something to eat! Perhaps, you'll feel better."

"I'm really not hungry…"

"WHAT!" Orin and Sven collectively gasped, both nearly collapsing off the bench just to climb back up in a fluster.

Orin spoke. "You? Not hungry? You sure you're okay? You're not feeling sick, are you?"

"I'm fine. I promise—"

In that instant, Link's attention broke away, and he swore he heard a voice call to him. Not one that he recognized, but it spoke so loud that it was clear as a drop of rain in his ear. The hour grows dire, and your time draws nearer. The Fireboar soon approaches…

Startled, Link stood up hastily. "You hear that?"

"Huh, hear what?" Sven asked.

Link had a look around. Nothing changed. The bar and all its patrons were still the same. The usual hoots and chorus of laughter continued on. But, nobody seemed to notice.

Not wanting to make a scene or look mad, Link composed himself in front of his friends. "I think I need to use the privy. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Without waiting for his friends to reply, Link reached for another mug and chugged it, slamming it down on the table before rushing off for the door to exit to go outside.

"Uh, Link? That was mine!" Orin contested. But, he spoke too late. Link was gone.

---

Outside, Link rested alongside where his pony was tied and opted to give himself a breather from the noise.

"They don't understand… none of them… But, you do, right old girl?" He said, petting gently behind her ears, waiting for a neigh in reply.

While he soothed her, she concurred with a soft whine. Link suddenly awoke to a loud clatter from behind the Inn and tavern. Yet, when he went to look, nothing laid there but shadows.

"I must have drank a bit too much. Wow, what a brew…" he whispered.

Just as he was about to walk back to his pony, once again, the voice he heard earlier spoke again, clear as day. The time is now. That which lies hidden in secret must be found… or all their doom will be bound…

"Who's there! Anyone there?" Link said, spinning around cautiously. Nothing but darkness.

He then saw a curious apparition lurking in the dark, perched on a post not too far off. That must be the culprit behind the racket. He will set this nonsense straight soon enough, or so he thought.

So, he went to investigate it. Drawing in a breath, he crept and walked toward the allusive figure.

Just as he was about to pounce on it, it flew, flying clear across his face in a gust, frightening him to a gasp.

To his surprise, it was just a brown-eyed old owl. Before he knew it, it disappeared into the night sky. Link couldn't possibly understand why that of all things frightened him.

"Easy there, friend!" A man called out to him from the street. "You look like you just met with a terrible fate!"

The man approached him closer. "Are you alright?"

Link huffed. "I'm fine… Sorry, it was nothing."

"Well, it didn't look like nothing to me. You are you as pale as a Poe!" The man said, now next to Link, tying his horse to another post. "I know just the cure for that!"

Link eyed the stranger quizzically from head to toe. His smile managed to seem amiable while also somehow… off. It seemed flat, practiced, and with a strange undercurrent of mania that could've burst forth by a wrong word.

"You do?" Link asked, perplexed.

"Well, yes, happiness, of course! That's what I'm doing here, by the way. Far and wide, I'm destined to bring smiles across the cheeks of young and old alike all across the land!"

Link fell mute, unsure what to say. "Uh, huh…"

"I see… an unbeliever, eh?"

"It's not that, it's just—"

"Shush! Let me show you!"

The man unveiled an assortment of masks and all other sorts of curious paraphernalia from his baggage. "You see? These here hold the key to awaken the hearts of any broken spirit and unleash wonder!"

"Well, I think I'm going to head back inside…" Link said, about to step away when the man reached out for him.

"Wait! I can tell that you, above anyone I have ever met before, would do good for such a mask!"

"Really, me?" Link scoffed, unamused.

"Of course! The name is Shimmy! Pleased to meet your acquaintance." He said, squeezing links hands together erratically up and down.

"Likewise…" Link mumbled, still unsure what any of this had to do with him.

"So, this is the Inn, correct?"

"Yeah, I think so… A tavern too."

"Well then, how about we both venture in. What do you say! As I said, I owe you a mask…" he gleamed, eyes squinting from ear to ear.

Link's thoughts swirled. Who is this guy, and how can he be so… cheerful? Doesn't he know what is about to happen soon? What doom awaits us all?

While Link pondered those things, a loud ruckus boomed from back inside.

"Wait here, it sounds like something is happening!"

"Well, it is a bar. I would hope that something is happening. I'm a bit tired and thirsty myself." The man assured naively.

"Just wait here… it doesn't sound good. It could get dicey…"

Perplexed, the man leaned to his side, unsure what he meant, but Link had already rushed through the door ahead of him.

---

Inside the tavern, Sven and Orin were eating and enjoying drinks merrily. Until their pleasant evening was disrupted. Sven's ear twitched, and his attention soon went to the Dragoons across the hall. The man once again was accosting Marri while she tried to work.

"I said, why are you running away? Don't you love the way my hands feel ya? Don't ya remember? I'm sure you do!"

"Ah, c'mon, I told ya nicely before, I never met you a day in my life! Now, let go of me!" Marri exclaimed, elbowing the man's belly, breaking free from his brutish hold. She nearly choked from his musk. He reeked of drink and sweat of long days out on the road without a bath.

The black-haired man laughed as he freed her. "Ha! She's probably right! No matter the town or city, they are all the same! Ain't that the truth?" he said, ribbing his men. "But, this one is extra special. A feisty one too! I like a girl who fights! I bet she even bites!"

"Keep dreaming…" She said, walking away before he could continue his depravity.

Sven's fist clenched, and before he could return to his story with Orin, the man's compatriot blabbed on about another, even more reviling speech.

The man's friend gargled with laughter as he sipped his beverage. "Did you hear? They say she may have the divine gift after all?"

"Gift! Ha, I bet she has a gift, alright— Swinging those divine hips of hers! That's a good gift if I ever saw any, am I right, lads?" Farga chimed in.

The men around him cheered with shouts of clashing mugs.

The man next to his ear cautioned. "Careful mate, that is our young Princess you're drooling on about! She's hardly just a day shy past fifteen, you know?"

"And what of it? We can all clearly see, plain as the big red nose on your face Ramiro, that she is no late bloomer, that's for sure. She will be a lady enough for me alright." The emboldened, slobbering man slurped, draining his mug of ale. It was as if he tasted the sweetest nectar he ever had.

Shortly before slamming it down on the crumb-laden table as if he already quenched his thirst from just the lustful thought of her happy walk.

He arose from his seat and pledged among the tavern patrons, "I say she's already ripe! From her pretty button toes to those fair cheeks— right up to those sweet milk peaches of hers!

"I bet they are just as sweet and delectable too. Just waiting for a pluck by the looks of it. Yes, like the most precious drop of honey from a freshly cracked comb right off the tree. Supple, untouched, and just begging for a bite. She wants it too, I bet. The tasty bitch. She would."

Sven clenched a fist as Orin reached out for him across the table. "Hey, cool it, Sven…"

"No… I can't… How dare they…"

Across the hall, the man joyously continued, proclaiming his perversions to his comrades. "And I know better of it. I've seen my fair share of maiden melons. From the snowy peaks of Frostlair, all the way to hither and yond, ain't that right?...And hers be the prettiest of them all! None has my eyes seen such fruit in all the kingdom. From those flowing lovely locks of hair of hers to that sweet peach bottom! I even her golden drapes match the carpet!"

He breathed a heavy gulp of lustful air… "Aye, she's in full bloom, alright. Better now than never, I suppose! After all, it is said and done, and if there is to be none of this Ganon monster or whatever we all should be worried about, at least we have her bottom backside to lead us all the way to certain victory, am I right!?

"Even if the day never comes! Jingle to the left, and jingle to the right. Bouncy bounce and I'll follow those tight trousers wherever they lead us! All the way to the never-ending forest and beyond if need be! To the ends and the edge of the world, I would follow such a tasty delight!"

"Hear, hear!" The room erupted in laughter. The concurring sentiments of his men roared in approval at his lust-filled, distasteful desire. It was as if they all needed a dainty-eyed young woman to bend to their sacrilegious will.

Sven frowned in disapproval but still saw no sign of Link. He couldn't possibly let this go on any longer. It had gone far enough. Lines were crossed.

The man's friend drooled beside him. "I say, Farga, I'd too would like to see what's under those tight black britches of hers, that's for sure. She even looks like the type that would skip on the knickers too! Wouldn't ya say?"

"A man can hope!"

"I bet under there it's as blinding and sacred as the golden power itself! And just as powerful too! The virgin treasure of the entire kingdom if there ever was any!"

"Hear, hear!" They cheered their flagons again, spilling drink upon the table in a chorus of roars and belligerent shouts.

Farga continued his slothful blabbing after another sip. "Yeh, I'd be happy just to march in the front row of the army when the time comes for that divine view. Those lucky bastards. They don't know how good they got it! Royal Guard swine!"

Sven had enough of their distasteful hubris among the tavern. Enraged, he rose from his chair and marched straight toward the big belly brute that was the architect of this heathenistic chorus.

Sven shouted. "You, sir! How dare you speak about our fair Princess in that manner! As a man of the shield and sword, you know that is no way to behave! I demand you cease such language, or you or I die this instant!"

The room fell to a hush. All that was left was the young, moppy-haired Sven trapped in a death stare to the overbearing brute.

The silence broke, and the menacing Dragoon spoke, cold as ice. "Is that a fact?"

"That's a fact…." Sven replied, unwavering, eyes locked on his.

"Someone fetch old crypt-keeper Dampe; this boy is about to have himself an accident!"

"Do your worst!" Sven stood and braced himself, just mere feet away.

Some Rito warriors watched while they sat situated in another corner of the room. One of which was Revali's companion.

The Rito soldier spoke to his master. "Should we step in? This could get ugly."

Revali opened his eyes from his rest. "It's a Hylian matter. Which means that it's not our concern. We have our own problems to worry about. That boy looks capable enough." He finished with a slight chuckle, arms folded.

The other changed the subject. "So, what do you think that summons from the Princess's court is really all about? It seems pretty important."

"Yeah, no kidding, she said to leave at once, and all will be explained upon our arrival. I was in the middle of breakfast, and would you guess, that royal postman had the gall to impose upon me. He insisted I should leave immediately when he delivered it. What nerve!"

"And do you think she would be willing to help us in our plight?" His friend leaned, a bead of sweat trailing across his beak.

"Well, I was hoping I would be able to find that out. It's the least she could do, considering we did drop everything just to come out here for her beck and call. And, if she can't, then we're going to be in a world of trouble. Drink up for now… Tomorrow we will have our audience with her, by her own decree. For now, let us watch and see what happens here." Revali finished, wing slowly creeping down to the hilt of his Rito, bone-carved sword.

A clash in the bar erupted. A flash sparked, and the once drunken man zipped past Sven effortlessly, and in quick work, elbowed him down.

Sven tried to reorient himself but was pummeled further.

Orin rose to his feet and charged, but he was met by three of the Dragoons that tripped him and grabbed him from behind. Unable to help, he watched helplessly, caught in their death hold.

And after a furious barrage of beatings were dealt to the young pledge, the group of scoundrels surrounded Sven. Their leader smirked.

"Careful now, lad. Best be staying put right where you are if you know what's good for ya." The man belched out a laugh while gazing at Sven, who he left reeling on the floor. "You do realize that it's three years cast into the dungeons for anyone to strike an officer of his Royal majesty's army, right? And it's death to anyone who dares to stand against a Dragoon."

Sven coughed. "Hmph! You're no officer. You're hardly even a soldier."

"Why, you miserable runt! Time for you to learn some manners!"

The beatings continued. And all that anyone in the tavern could do was watch. An array of punches and kicks slammed into the young man causing him to cough up blood.

Marri exclaimed from behind the bar where the kegs were. "I can't watch! Stop it! Please, This instant! This has gone far enough; can't you see he can't defend himself anymore!?"

The man shouted. Boasting to her from over his shoulder. "You best be quiet. I'm not through with you yet either! After him, you're next! A very different type of lesson lies in store for you!"

His friend goaded. "Ha! She might even like that lieutenant!"

"I bet she would. They all do! A rough thrashing is exactly what she needs. " He said while licking his lips.

She had no choice but to remain quiet and watch in fear of what he would do next.

Orin coughed after receiving a thorough beating of his own while being held by three men. All he could do was watch too.

Marri breathed to herself. "Where is their friend? Why is it just the two of them? Where is he?!"

The barkeep stood aside as well, more worried that such a mess to his pub was being made.

Sven groaned, holding his aching side where he knelt, slowly standing from his bashing. "You're nothing but a savage wearing a uniform! You don't deserve to be called a man of the banner!"

Sven choked, but nevertheless was determined. A fire burned in his eyes. "You're no soldier… You're just a bully who wears his disgrace like a badge of honor!" he finished, defiantly coughing up a wad of bloody spit.

"You're going to have to speak a little louder than that m'boy, I can't hear you… What was that?" The man throttled Sven again, kicking him back down. His fellow goons laughed.

Sven was on his belly, attempting to claw for a nearby chair to lift himself up, and that's when the man kicked him out from under it for a final time.

"And while you're down there choking, why don't you put that bloody spit to good use and shine my boots for me? I want them to look like mirrors."

The others mocked while the leader pranced about, swinging his hands out, daring for anyone else to contest or challenge his authority.

The pain continued like that for a few more moments as the others jumped him as well. Until he was left beaten and bruised on the ground. The group of thug soldiers decided he had his fill and began to walk away, three of which still restraining Orin from behind.

Orin shouted. "Sven, no!"

And when they all thought it was over, Sven rose back up to his feet, fatigued and out of breath. "I'll stop you…."

The leader spun around slowly. Amazed that he still had it in him. Yet, he was more than willing to deal out another beating. "Ha, you… all by your lonesome? Stay down in the muck where you belong. Rummage among the slop."

"I'll make you pay."

"You? Really? You can hardly stand. Look at you wobbling on your own two feet!"

Across the hall, Revali realized things had gotten out of hand. "Alright, perhaps I should put an end to this. This has gone far enough." Sliding out from his chair, he was about to make his way over.

The brute continued to pontificate to Sven, unaware that Revali was readying himself to march between them. "What could you possibly do to me?—If you know what was good for ya's, you'd just stay down, kid."

"Never. I'll make you see respect." Sven coughed.

"Yeah, and how's that? With who and what army!?"

"Me." said Link, to everyone's surprise. Out of what seemed like nowhere, he had appeared. Amazed most of all was Revali, who was still in the back of the tavern. Link's calm voice echoed like thunder, and his moves clashed swift as a lightning.

"What the—Who the hell?" Revali remarked, astonished by what his eyes were seeing. He couldn't believe it.

In a superb display of speed, Link fell two of the dragoons who charged him. The large brute chased him and swung all his fists, but none of them made contact.

Without his sword, Link saw a nearby ladle sticking out from a bubbling pottage. Thinking on his toes he took it and swung against men that were assailing him. One by one, he elegantly whipped all those who attacked him with perfectly placed hits against their pressure points, dropping them to their feet.

Dancing across the tavern tables in a whirlwind, he beat back most of the contenders. Until the brute saw his opening. Charging Link, he bum-rushed him and to Link's dismay he was knocked back by one of the man's fists.

Link knew he wasn't feeling the surest of foot, since he had those drinks. But, he was still confident he could win by a well-orchestrated display of acrobatics, if he stayed focused.

The punch bruised his gut and knocked the breath out of him, but he had plenty of fight left in him. Instantly, he sobered up. He quickly made quick work of a recovery by returning to the fray in an offensive formation. With the ladle in one hand and blocking other incoming blows from behind with his other hand, he made short work of the other goons.

Revali fell back into his seat. "Who the hell is that guy!?"

The fight continued. In no time at all, Link had fallen all those that had beaten his friends and cursed the Princess. All who were left standing was their leader. His face was red, and now he craved blood. Not wanting to be defeated by some upstart or be embarrassed in front of his men, he did the unthinkable and whipped out two blades. This time it was for real. This time it was to the death. No more games.

Farga shouted. "If you can fight like a man, then you sure as hell can die like a man!"

Link braced himself with the ladle and struck a defensive stance.

Then in a crash, a voice shook the tavern. "That is enough!"

The man halted his attack and stood still as a tree. Link likewise was bewildered, as was everyone else.

Athelon had stormed in. "What is the meaning of this!?"

During the entire commotion, Marri stood in awe with stars in her eyes of Link's stunning abilities. "Goddesses, forgive me for what I'm about to say. Could it be true? A handsome boy and a gentleman? Who'd thought such a thing was possible. And a world-class warrior to boot! It's like seeing a Korok from the mythical Lost Forest. You hear all about them growing up as a child in fairytales, but now that one actually shows up, you don't know what to do! He's like a dream come true! The things I would do—"

The cocky and disheveled Dragoon arose to his feet and composed himself. He quickly put away his daggers upon sight of the Royal Guard commander. In that same instant, his own captain came thundering down from the second-floor steps of the tavern.

The man immediately took a knee as his master approached to speak. "You tell me, Athelon, what is the meaning of this…?"

"That is what I would like to know as well…?"

The deranged and burly brute declared on behalf of the skirmish. "This boy and his friends attacked us at dinner! I demand they pay restitution!"

"Did they now?" Their captain said.

Sven stood up, still beaten. "That's a lie!"

The innkeeper Barley mead rushed in-between both the leaders. "Nice of you to join us, Marshal of the Royal Guard! You too, captain of Draene! How about a nice cold ale for the both of you! Yes—" he finished, rubbing his hands together, still eager to make a rupee. After both of their stern silence, he ran to Marri to assist in easing tensions.

There he whispered to her while she was busy still cleaning up the mess that occurred. "What are you doing? We have guests! Get them some drinks. NOW!" Dropping everything, she complied and fussed over to the kegs that lined against the wall.

Athelon spoke. "So, is that the way of it? Sven?"

"Yes, these so-called soldiers harassed the lady over there and, even worse, spoke rude and vile things about our princess."

"Hardly! We were just enjoying ourselves when your boys came and assaulted us." The brute huffed.

"Well, those boys you speak of are fledglings of the king's guard! So, you best refrain from such ill speak, or I'll cut your tongue from your throat myself." Athelon decried.

The captain of Draene nodded to his men, looking towards Orin, who was still being held. "Release him."

With his command, they let him loose.

Then their captain shouted sharply back at Athelon. "You know this is an establishment for actual soldiers and those with timed service! So, keep your pledges under control, or I may be forgetful of who they are next time and may look the other way if they encounter my men again."

"Is that a threat!?" Athelon's voice raised, marching toward him. "Your men are nothing but a bunch of murderers."

"Easy there, 'guard commander'. Unless you want to answer to Danarus. You do remember him, right? Liege Lord of the North and Regent of the Stonelands." He spun around, arms fanned out high and in a full display of grandiosity. "Chief Marshal of his majesty's legions and chancellor to the king." He said, glaring at the Royal guardsman and his fledglings. "Yeah, I don't think he would take too kindly to anyone accosting his loyal men. Don't you think so?"

Athelon defiantly postured. "All those fancy titles of yours don't mean a damned thing. He could have half a dozen names for all I care, and he would still be an assling."

"Tread lightly, friend. What you say to some may construe your aggression as treason."

"Hmph! To him? I swore no such oath of fealty to that man! I answer only to the—"

"Then perhaps you would like to have a word with the King himself! I hear he and my Lord Danarus are the closest of friends. Seeing it is he is his right-hand man, after all. Chancellor Danarus. Which makes him a member of the King's court while requisitioned and stationed at this city. An act against him or his subjects could be taken as an act of aggression against the king himself."

Sven rose up with the help of Link. "No way! They were the ones who dishonored our princess! They spoke about her in the most vile and crude manner!"

The Dragoon captain shouted him down. "Bah, nonsense! My men are of the finest esteem of military discipline and order! You would be wise to hold your tongue, boy!"

Athelon interrupted as his anger boiled over. "Enough!"

"But, sir? They-!" Sven replied.

"I said enough! Now, follow me. All of you." Athelon decried, ushering for Link, Sven, and Orin to follow him out of the tavern. "And here's for the mess and trouble." He finished, tossing a single silver gem to the Barkeep across the room. The man fumbled over himself to grab it, shining it gently once he did.

Link then interrupted as they began to leave. "Oh, and one last thing…"

"Huh?" Athelon and their captain replied in unison. Astonished that he would be so bold.

"We'll go willingly, I promise you that. But your men must vow to leave the girl here alone… Or you're going to need a hell of a lot more men to protect them from me."

Athelon quickly filled with pride and spun to glare at their captain. Making sure he knew to make good on that promise.

The Dragoon commander sneered but relented. "You have my word. My men will steer clear of any improper interaction with her tonight… But, that being said, I don't ever want to see your face again. You hear me? Or it will be you that will be needing an army of protection."

Athelon spat, a final word on the matter. "So, be it.. let's go…"

While they were heading out, the Dragoon captain couldn't help but antagonize Athelon. "Oh, and don't worry, my old friend, I'm willing to let bygones be bygones this time. So, don't you fret. This shall be our secret. See you at the festival tomorrow! I'm just dying to see how your boys perform… If they survive, that is!" he finished with a begrudging laugh.

Unbeknownst to her, Marri came with another round of drinks to present them to Athelon and the other captain when she noticed they weren't there anymore.

The barkeep chided her. "What are you doing with those? Put those away!" he said. Now that he knew any chance making any more profit had left along with them.

Perplexed by his bipolar nature, she had no choice but to put them aside. She sighed. Even more, she wondered where they could have run off to. Especially the handsome young man Link who saved them.

---

Outside the tavern, Link nearly forgot all about the strange man he met earlier. He was nowhere to be seen, neither here nor there. But he does not have time for distractions such as those. They were in a world of trouble.

And just as they all thought they were in for an ass chewing, something remarkable happened. Athelon spoke. But he wasn't angry. A little disappointed perhaps, but not upset.

"So, what happened back there? Hmm?" Athelon demanded.

The three of them remained quiet, unsure who should speak first.

"Well, is someone going to say something, or did those scary men frighten you that much? There's no place for shivering boys in the guard, you know?! So, speak!"

Link was about to, personally offended by the notion that he could possibly be afraid of those men. And that was when Athelon cut him off. "Not you, Link. I want to hear it from them. I know you're not afraid of them. So, Sven?"

"They don't frighten me!" Sven hollered back. Athelon spun to face him in the middle of the road as they walked.

"I can see that…" Athelon said, taking account of his fresh bruises. "But, you disappoint me. Certainly, I expected more from you! You let scoundrels such as that get the best of you!"

"It was ten on one! Hardly fair!"

"So, you say it wasn't fair, hmm?"

"Yes, it wasn't…" Orin confirmed, standing beside Link and Sven.

"Aye, it wasn't… but that didn't stop Link, now did it?" Athelon smirked. "What makes it fair for him to be faced against so many foes?"

"But, he's… he's Link…" Orin repeated.

"And what's your point? By tomorrow I'm going to need you all to be more ferocious than an army of those men! Link isn't always going to be there to save your ass or mine!"

Link was taken aback by his language, unsure what he meant. But, before he could speak, Athelon spun to face him, his one good eye locked on him while the scarred one swirled pale in the moonlight. "Now, I'm going to need you to wake up…"

"Huh?" Link asked, confused.

"Wake up, Link! Wake up!" Athelon screamed at the top of his lungs.

---

In that instant, Link awoke in the present, lying on the decrepit tavern floor, heaving on a bunch of dust and ash. Above him perched a menacing Malroc.

"Time to wake up, my friend!" the monster roared, his massive sword held high above his head. "Now, you… DIE!"

Authors Notes- One more to go. It's already finished. I had to split it up, since the ending was so huge. It Will be released in shortly. I do hope you like. Please let me know. Thank you!