Link ran his hand along the blade of his sword as it sat upon his lap, the fine metal reflecting his fingers like a mirror. Unlike most swords, the metal of this particular one was lighter, almost like it was forged from some unworldly substance, its color like that of pearls. The hilt was carved out of a deep scarlet stone called grishamer, its many facets reflecting the afternoon sunlight. Link had never beheld something so beautiful and mysterious in his life…his parents had kept him away from such weapons, forcing him to practice his sword techniques with a crude wooden dagger carved by his father. It angered him that they would never let him try anything more advanced. The skills Uncle Martig had taught him were more powerful and swift than those of his father, who at one time was well known for his abilities all over Hyrule before a serious accident caused him to lose some mobility in his left arm.
Link sighed and kicked a stone across the sun-parched ground. He had retreated to the back of the cottage, patiently waiting for his uncle for more sword lessons. Martig had remained inside, discussing politics with Link's parents and other interested inhabitants of the room. Link noticed that Martig was extremely tense, due to the fact that Haywin was watching his every move, his ebony eyes rarely moving away. He stood in the corner of the room surrounded by over-stuffed armchairs, occasionally sipping a hip flask of strong liquor.
Link rose from his sitting position and moved towards the slightly open window where he could view the events of the room, and also to get his uncle's attention. He leaned his sword against the side of the cottage, gazed through the narrow sheet of glass, and noticed his uncle was right next it. He stood with Arn and Midala and small group of people, quite secluded from the rest of the guests. Voices seeped through the crack in the window.
"Of course, you realize, that it would be highly impossible for the suspects to escape. There were guards at every exit!" shouted a short, thin man, his brown mustache twitching with anger.
"That's true, Lord Farner, but there are other ways of escaping," stated Midala, her voice shaking, "There are some who are able to disappear and reappear anywhere they wish."
"The people with those abilities vanished years ago…not even the wisest sorcerers remember the correct incantations to accomplish such a feat!" Lord Farner replied, his feeble voice escalating, "Why would they come back murder an innocent family!?" Arn sighed.
"Keep your voice down, Farner. Not everyone has heard of the murders of the Calatians yet…we don't want any unnecessary rumors floating around."
"I wouldn't be surprised if it was them…they never were trustworthy people," Martig said, suddenly cutting into the conversation. "Remember the New Year celebration 8 years ago? They caused a ruckus the whole night…appearing and reappearing all over, scaring the children to death, not to mention the fact that they were able to get into heavily guarded rooms! Several important documents just 'evaporated'!? I doubt that!"
"Be reasonable, Martig! Those blacksmith documents were easily replaced. They mean nothing to people who aren't educated in the Royal techniques! There are only 6 known that have been taught, and all are accounted for. Whoever stole those documents was probably just looking for a bit of fun," said a women standing next to Lord Farner.
"Lady Juliai is correct. Midala and I have worked with the Royal Family for years and know only a tenth of the events that go on behind the castle walls. Not even we could understand or find any use out of those documents. I'm sure that highly powerful sorcerers would not steal blacksmith documents…they can create whatever they like. As for the murders, I doubt that there is any connection, but the thought should not be pushed aside." Midala, Lady Juliai, and Lord Farner nodded in agreement. Martig glowered.
"All but one is accounted for…" muttered Martig under his breath. Midala gave him a bewildered look.
"Pardon me?"
"Oh nothing, Midala. Well, goodness! It looks like we have a visitor!" Martig declared, gesturing toward the open window where Link stood. Link realized he had been seen and his face turned a deep red. Midala walked outside the door next to the window. She motioned for Link to come closer.
"How long have you been standing there?" she whispered.
"Not very long, Mother. I was just hoping that Uncle Martig was done talking." She laughed and kissed him on the cheek.
"You have inherited your tendency to be impatient from your father," Midala replied, a smile stretched across her attractive face. She took Link's hand and led him inside.
"Martig, you have a promise to fulfill to my son," expressed his mother.
"Of course! How could I forget? I will retrieve my equipment and meet you outside, my apprentice." He disappeared through the entry hall to his carriage outside. Haywin followed him with his eyes. Arn, looking anxious, took Link aside and put an arm around his shoulders.
"Are you sure you're ready? You know that Martig is far more advanced than me since my accident…I don't want you getting hurt. I haven't been able to teach you all the moves I was once able to do…"
"Don't worry Dad…I'll go easy on him." Arn grinned and ruffled his son's hair.
"That's my boy…but please still be careful." Link nodded and ran outside to meet his uncle. Midala walked up to her husband, laying her head on his shoulder.
"You get to bandage him up this time." Midala said.