Chapter 2

"I don't know what I did to deserve this," Wynn grumbled as he trudged up the last few steps leading into Kakariko Village, "but it must have been really bad." He sighed loudly as he passed through the gate, rubbing his temples. He had managed to scrape up enough rupees beforehand to rent a bed from a nice family that lived in the village, but that had exhausted his funds. He now had enough to live on, but he needed every last bit he could scrape up. The man he had met, Seron?, had set his price on the information Wynn needed at five hundred rupees. The price was outrageous, but beggars can't be choosers, Wynn knew, and not paying Seron's price would be even more costly to him.

"Now, what I wouldn't give for a bit of good luck," Wynn said, leaning against the village gates to catch his breath. He froze as he heard shouting, looking up just in time to see the red-haired human projectile streaking at him. He didn't have time to brace himself as the man plowed into him, knocking him to the ground. Wynn caught himself before he landed on his face, turning to give the man a venomous glare, which the other was too busy running away to notice. The man, the same that had been in the village earlier that day, managed to glance over his shoulder, giving a hasty "Sorry!", before sprinting out of sight.

Wynn stood, dusting himself off, swallowing the scathing retort he so wanted to yell back at the clumsy oaf. He hesitated as he heard more running footsteps coming up behind him, whirling to face them, squaring his shoulders. 'Whoever they are,' he thought defiantly, 'they are not going to plow me over like their friend did!'

However, the men stopped before they reached him. They were a rough-looking bunch, scarred and ugly like Agno and his flunkies. Something about them, perhaps the fact that it was more confidence than arrogance in their movements, warned Wynn against underestimating them. He gave the group, perhaps five men, a steely glare, wrapping his fingers tight around the hilt of his sword. If they were bandits or thieves, Wynn promised, they had picked the wrong target tonight!

The leader of the men stepped forward. He was a tall man, wide-shouldered and powerfully built. His narrow, angled face was lined with thin scars, the most noticeable a large white line above his left eye. He wore thick armor, with a flowing black cape trailing behind him. The man's dark eyes narrowed, and his lips, over which was draped a bushy mustache that trailed down to frame his mouth on three sides, pursed. He stepped up to face Wynn, measuring the man scornfully.

"Tell me, boy," Wynn tensed at the last word, "did you see a man just run by? About your size, red hair, running like the King of Evil himself was after him?" Wynn raised his eyebrow at the man, and the older man scowled, his left hand coming forward to grip at the throat of Wynn's tunic. "Did you, boy?"

Wynn eyed the other coldly. His own left hand came up, gripping the other's wrist tightly, pulling it down and away from his throat. His right hand, however, tightened on his sword. This man looked familiar, and, if he didn't control himself, he might lash out before he got to ask any questions. "I may have," he answered emotionlessly. "But then again, maybe not."

The dark man stepped back, reappraising Wynn. With a smooth motion, he drew his weapon. Wynn tensed as the man waved the weapon casually in front of him. It was a serpentine blade, the metal zigzagging back and forth, the sharp edges along both sides gleaming. The threat was obvious, but Wynn didn't back down.

"It would be best if you told us," the man purred. "He's a thief and a murderer. Unless we catch him, he could be a threat to anyone who saw him. He's downright…" He paused, the point of his blade right between Wynn's impassive eyes, "dangerous." One of the thugs behind him snickered.

'Oh, puh-lease' Wynn thought, seriously tempted to show the man the true meaning of that word. Instead, he decided it would be best to be helpful. "I did see him, now that I think of it." The dark man nodded, prompting him on. Wynn pointed behind the man, the opposite direction to which the red head had actually ran, at a set of stairs that led up toward the other set of gates, the ones leading towards the Death Mountain Trail. "He ran that way. He's pretty fast, better get to moving." Wynn gave the man a sickeningly nice smile.

It was the man's turn to raise an eyebrow. For a second, Wynn was sure he knew that he was lying. Instead, the man smiled back, showing his teeth. "That's a good boy," he commented, tapping his blade teasingly against Wynn's cheek. Turning, he sheathed his weapon, waving his men to him. "Come!"

Wynn watched the men go, scowling at their backs. At that moment, he would like nothing more than to show them a little of what he had showed their like a few days before, but instead he turned, walking on toward the house and the nice, warm bed that awaited him. He still felt a bit of recognition towards the leader…not a good sign, considering the only time he had been exposed to their ilk. Now Wynn paused, giving a dark glare towards the night where the men had departed. If they had anything to do with what had happened to him then, then he would not rest until everyone one of them paid for it.

Snarling at them, himself, clumsy redheads, and fate itself, he walked into the house. This day was done, and he was going to have to get plenty of sleep for tomorrow. Jobs around here were scarce, at least the ones that generated the kind of money he needed, and he figured he would be better off looking elsewhere. Tomorrow would probably involve a lot of walking around looking for nothing in particular, and that wasn't exactly the most relaxing activity. Still, he lay awake for a long time that night, unable to sleep. His last thought, as darkness took him, was that the red head, whoever he may be, better be thankful for what he had done for him.

******

"Come, my servant, and stand before me."

The dark young man grinned up at his teacher. He knelt down at the man's feet, lowering his head. He could feel the piercing blue eyes of the man he called 'master' on him, but didn't flinch. Tonight, he brought good news.

"Tell me, what did you learn? Did you find him? Did you find the son of Baro?"

The dark young man stood, his smile growing. "I did."

He could hear the soft hiss of approval from the old man that sat above him. "And what of him? What is your opinion? Can we use him?"

The young man nodded, his dark eyes glinting. "He is quite able. He killed all of the ReDeads in the market ruins, a task beyond a dozen lesser men. He shows no other powers yet, besides skill with a blade, but still could be quite useful. He is also easily manipulated. He believed my story, desperate for any knowledge of his family. He seeks revenge single-mindedly. He is consumed by rage, and yet at the same time feels much self-doubt. I do not doubt you could easily control him."

As he heard the chuckle of his master, the young man forced down a twinge of jealousy. His master had shown such interest in this one, much more than he deserved. After all, it was not the son of Baro that was the wizard's apprentice; it was not the son of Baro that had shown such loyalty and promise to the old man. He did not even have a control of magic like his father had!

"Go," came the command. "Watch him. Observe him. See if he proves worthy of my attention. Report back to me. And then, if I so decide, you will bring him to me."

The dark young man nodded. "As you command, my master." Turning away, he allowed his face to slip into the scowl that had been lurking inside him. He would observe him, indeed. And he would find the man's weakness. The man smiled evilly. And if Wynn, the son of Baro, proved to be a threat to him, then he would not hesitate to destroy him.

******

Smoke rose above the trees, almost blending in with the dark clouds that had shrouded the sky that day. Wynn glanced up at the smoke quizzically, not understanding its source. He dropped the supplies he had been sent to gather, moving forward in a jog. The day was warm, so there would be no real need for a fire for warmth. It could be a cooking fire, but it seemed larger, more spread out than it should. Something was wrong.

Wynn dashed into the small clearing in the woods that flanked the small building that had been the only home he had ever known. His jaw dropped as he saw the flames that enshrouded it. The small house was afire, and perhaps a dozen, two dozen, men ran around the place, searching, looting. Wynn looked around, searching for any sign of his parents, but there were none.

He could feel the heat of the flames on his face as he dashed forward. One of the men, bandits he assumed, turned toward him, sword before him. Wynn drew his own sword, a blade his father had given to him, charging forward, eyes lit with fires of rage to match the flames consuming his home. The brute met him, sword coming around in a vicious slash, but Wynn was quicker, more agile. Muscles fueled by agony and crying out for vengeance, Wynn drove his sword home, piercing through the man's defenses, his armor, and his chest.

Shoving the dying man, the first human he had ever killed, to the ground, Wynn moved on, eyes set on his burning home. Two men stepped in front of him, brandishing wickedly spiked clubs. Wynn moved to one side, positioning one of the men between him and the other. He effortlessly dodged the man's wild swing, the pummel of his sword coming up and around to slam into the man's temple. Shoving the unconscious man aside, he ducked under a swipe from the other man, stabbing forward. The man shrieked, clutching at the agonizing gut wound. Wynn spun past him, his sword stabbing behind him to finish the job, his movements controlled by the fighter's instincts his father had drilled into him.

Those same instincts made him spin around, knocking away the stab that came at his back. The thug glared at him, slashing with the long dirk he held in his other hand. Wynn stepped back, planting a kick on the man's knee, then bringing his sword across the man's throat. The man fell down, clutching at his torn neck, trying to stem the uncontrollable flow as his lifeblood left him, but Wynn didn't notice, already moving onward. He only cared now about the fate of his parents.

Wynn's heart rose as he saw a dark form emerge from the flames, coming out of the door he had almost reached. That hope quickly perished as he looked at the man, if it was indeed a man, that stood before him. It was a massive figure clad entirely in gleaming silver armor. Wynn looked up at the thing that towered over him, into the dark shadows of the helmet that stared down at him. Glowing red eyes looked back, the cold fire in that gaze contrasting with the heat of the fire and the reflection of the fire off the shining armor. "Who are you?" Wynn screamed, dashing forward, sword leading the way. "What have you done with my parents?!?"

Effortlessly, the figure knocked his sword away. Wynn gasped, struggling for breath, as cold metal fingers wrapped around his throat. He felt his feet leave the ground, and black spots danced before his eyes as the metal-clad behemoth held him up to its eye-level. Wynn looked into those soulless red eyes in desperation, clawing at the wrist that held him aloft. He watched helplessly as the beast drew a massive double-headed ax, at least as tall as Wynn, from its back. Wynn closed his eyes, waiting for the pain. That weapon would split him in half, he knew. The surprise was that, at the moment, he no longer cared.

Wynn grunted, the air forced from him, as he felt a massive concussion against his skull. He felt himself falling as the hand left his throat, and even as he hit the ground he was still falling, drifting into darkness. He knew it had been the flat side of the ax had had struck him. He still waited for the death blow, but it never came. He opened his eyes to a blurry world, trying to make himself see. He could make out a mustachioed man looking down at him, and felt a slight pressure at his throat, but suddenly the man was knocked away. "Leave him," came a growling voice, as cold and as sharp as a sword. "He is of no use to us now, alive or dead. Let him live to see what has been done."

"I don't leave enemies at my back," insisted the bandit.

"I didn't hire you to question me!" roared the armored behemoth. "Our work is done here."

The defeated young man could hear footsteps moving away from him as his attackers left. Wynn's eyes drifted shut as the world began to spin around him. He screamed inside for help, for vengeance, for his own death.

There was no answer as the darkness took him.

******

"Are you O.K., Mister?"

Wynn gasped for breath, sitting up in a lunge. He hastily wiped a hand across his forehead, wiping away some of the sweat that drenched him. He glanced around, trying to slow his racing heart to a tolerable level as he tried to sort out his surroundings.

The girl that had spoken to him watched him with concern. "A bad dream?"

Wynn looked at her, noticing her for the first time. He looked at her worried face for several seconds, then turned away. "I wish it was just a bad dream."

The young girl's face fell as he stood, climbing out of bed and reaching for his armor. She came over to him, placing a slender hand on his shoulder. "Something is wrong. Is there any way we can help?"

Wynn turned, giving her a quick appraisal. She was around his age, tall and slim. Her blonde hair hung past her shoulders, framing a pair of bright, intelligent blue eyes. She wore an unbuttoned blue vest over a white shirt, which was tucked into a pair of blue pants. She was pretty, Wynn noticed, but then he shook his head. No time for thinking about stuff like that now, he chided himself.

He chuckled wryly. He thought briefly of his parents, both missing. He remembered his old friend Solan, killed in a bandit raid on his farm with his parents. He looked back at the girl, shaking his head. "Sorry, but you don't want to help me. People who get close to me have a way of getting killed."

The girl crossed her arms, eyeing him sternly as he slipped his armor over his shoulders. "A bit over-dramatic, are we?"

Wynn looked at her, his eyes cold, hiding the pain that he couldn't force down at that moment. "I wish it was just melodrama. Trust me, its better if you forget you ever met me."

The girl stepped back, considering him. "My name is Kiara. Please, at least, take this bread, if you have to leave. I have to help you somehow."

Wynn gave her a weak smile as he belted on his sword, reaching out to take the fresh loaf of bread she offered. "Thanks, a lot. Please, take my advice. I never came here."

She watched him walk to the door. He hesitated as he opened it, and then turned to her. "Goodbye, Kiara."

"At least tell me your name."

He shook his head sadly, giving her a slow wave. He walked out the door into the early morning sunlight. Kiara watched him go, wishing him the best, hoping that he would overcome whatever it was that troubled him so. Heart heavy, she turned away, returning to life at normal.

******

Wynn closed his eyes as he breathed in deeply, filling his lungs with the crisp morning air. He stood on a hill across the river from the stairs that led up to Kakariko Village, gazing across Hyrule Field. The rolling plain was dotted with trees, small hills rising and falling in waves. In the distant he could see the walls of Lon Lon Ranch, home to his old friends Talon and Malon. He thought for a second of visiting them, of going to them for guidance. He froze as he thought of telling them about what had happened to his parents. They had long been friends of his family, and he knew they would demand to help him. No, he concluded. This was something he would have to do on his own. He wouldn't endanger them.

Now, his concern was money. Seron's exorbitant price would require a lot of it, a lot that he didn't have. Now, he knew what he needed, for whom, and why… it was the how that caused the problem. Wynn refused to beg, and the idea of borrowing the money, while more acceptable, rankled him. Stealing was out of the question. Working for the money would take too long.

Wynn chuckled darkly as he remembered the previous day. Earning money was probably easiest if done by doing something you excelled at. Unconsciously, he ran his fingers up the hilt of his sword. He wasn't exactly accustomed to fighting, but he did have some experience killing lesser monsters, Tekitites and the like. Plus, he father had trained him in the sword ever since he was a child. Truth be told, he had surpassed his teacher; Baro had been uncomfortable using the blade, but Wynn might as well have been born with it in his hand.

He remembered the map of Hyrule his father had kept in his study, pondering places that might have need of a sword-for-hire. Kakariko was in no dire need; he had found that out well enough. Hyrule Marketplace was clear. Lon Lon was safe, and any money he accepted from Talon would feel more like a gift than something he earned. Goron Village was a possibility, but even the money he earned squashing Tekitites wouldn't be enough.

His mind wandered to the parts of the world he was less familiar with. Zora's Domain he skipped over; the Zora's weren't always welcoming of visitors. The Lost Woods were out; those murky depths weren't any place to look for heaps of rupees. He smiled slowly as he remembered the fanciful tales his mother once told him of the desert Gerudos, thieves and raiders that supposedly had hidden heaps of wealth deep inside the Spirit Temple. Perhaps they were only childhood myths, but it was as good a lead as any. He nodded, relieved, and hefted his pack higher on his back. Time to be off.

"Boo."

Wynn whirled, one hand darting for his sword, the other ready to lash out at any assailants. Instead, he found a familiar, smirking face. The red-haired man from the village stood nearby, watching him with arms crossed. His arrogant smile grew as he noticed Wynn's unease. "Jumpy, aren't we?"

"Boo yourself," Wynn growled. He took a moment to further appraise the man. The most noticeable thing about his was his bright red hair. At the moment, it was definitely disheveled; it looked as if the man had spent the night on the ground, from the occasional stick tangled in. Beneath the fiery snarls was a tanned face, set at a jaunty angle. Wynn would have called the man's smile insolent, if he hadn't noticed the unease deep inside the man's brown eyes. The man wore a thick reinforced brown tunic, which was scratched and frayed. His arms were as tanned as his face, and lined here and there with the occasional white scar. The muscles in them bulged; the man was muscular and thickly built. Strapped to his back was a long-handled axe, which was in a much better state of repair than the rest of him. A bag of supplies was flung over one shoulder, and a pouch at his side bulged with papers.

"The nerves come with the job. Trust me, I know." He stuck out a hand. "The name's Tane."

Wynn considered the hand, looking from it to Tane's face and back again. The other man didn't show any sign of impatience, keeping the hand where it was. Sighing, Wynn clasped the other's wrist. "Wynn."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, Wynn," Tane drawled, sketching a mocking bow.

"Likewise," Wynn mumbled, crossing his arms. "Although we've met before. Last night at the village gates, if I recall correctly."

"Oh, that. We all get in hurries sometimes, y'know, and-"

"You were running from someone. A big ugly gang of someones."

Tane waved it away. "Enough about that. Down to business."

"Business?"

"Ahem…yes. I heard about your little job at the old Marketplace – word gets around quick around here – and I liked what I heard. Y'see, I'm in the market for a partner. It's always nice to have someone to watch your back in our line of work, and- "

"And that would be?"

Tane stopped, blinking. "Well, err…"

Wynn raised an eyebrow as Tane recovered his composure. The red-head scratched his chin, and then a slow grin worked its way onto his face. "I take it that means you've never heard of me. I am, after all, famous around these parts, and others. I am the great warrior, the fierce brawler; I am Tane the Terrifying. In short," he bowed again, flourishing magnificently, "I am the greatest soldier-for-hire this side of Gerudo Valley. My friend, I could tell tales that would-"

"A mercenary?" Wynn demanded. Visions of a burning farmhouse exploded in his mind. He racked his memories for any glimpse of this man's face, and his hand tightened its grip on his sword.

"Well, to be blunt, yes. Although I prefer not to use that term; its almost insulting. But, yes, I am a mercenary, and a good one. Granted, work has been a little slow lately," his stomach roared to punctuate that, and Tane blushed slightly, "so that's why I'm looking into expanding my business. Mercenary AND treasure hunter." He patted the pouch of papers at his side confidently. "There's a lot of lost treasures out in the world today, just waiting for some brave soul to swoop down and take them and spend them. As a matter of fact, I have a map right here that has great promise; a hidden treasure of the Kokiri, lost deep within the forests just east of here." He drew an old parchment from the pouch, but didn't unroll it. "This, my friend, is worth thousands of rupees to the right man. And that man is me. And you, if you'll just come along and keep an eye out for trouble. You come along, and when we recover the loot, you get a full quarter. That's generous-"

"Half," Wynn said, "or you can just carry a mirror around and use it to watch your back."

Tane's face fell at that, but finally nodded reluctantly. "Half," he agreed, his voice catching at the word.

"Very well then," Wynn said, lowering his hand from his sword. The two set off for the forests near the horizon, making a reasonable pace.

Tane reached out and clapped Wynn on the back. "I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Don't touch me."

"Ah….sure."

And the sun climbed higher over Hyrule Field.

Author's Note: Just a quick notice, and an apology. Sadly, chapters for anything I am writing have been coming along slower than ever, mostly thanks to that wretched game Everquest. It doesn't help that this revision is turning out to be exponentially bigger than the original version; this chapter was originally just a fraction of the events in chapter two. With all the stuff I'm adding later...let's just say that this will be one heck of a story to try to print. In any case, I just wanted to let everyone know that I AM still working on this...just slowly. Thanks for reading.

~Wynn Pendragon