Link watched the guards patrolling the bridge from the shady canopy of a sturdy, old tree that dwarfed all others in the surrounding forest. Dressed in the green tunic of the Kokiri, he was invisible to all but the keenest eyes as he peered through the dense foliage. He had stashed his gear under some brush below the base of the gnarled trunk, for fear that the midday sun would catch on his mirrored shield, and the glint would alert the watchers at the gate to his presence.
Link studied the guards from his vantage point, noting their bulky builds and rounded ears. These were not Hylians, the people of his homeland. They were not heavily armed, clad in simple leather jerkins and holding what appeared to be farming tools but still they cut imposing figures, standing almost twice as tall as Link himself - though this wasn't saying much as Link was only twelve years old. Well, around twelve, he thought. His personal timeline had become a little muddled over the last few years. The guards' weapons might be crude but even from this distance, the sharpened blades looked vicious and deadly. Link had tackled larger monsters before, but he had no wish to get into a fight with these humans.
"There's got to be way over that bridge" he muttered, frowning to himself. He slumped back to lie on the thickest of the tree's great branches. The bough was wide and solid and made a surprisingly comfortable cot. The high summer sun was scorching but the shade of the leaves and the cool northerly breeze that gently rocked the branches made for a pleasant, if slightly soporific atmosphere. Birds chattered and chirped to each other and occasionally a squirrel or chipmunk would scamper overhead on the thinner branches. Absent-mindedly Link reached for his small pack he had looped over a knot in the trunk next to him, and took a big gulp of lukewarm water from a bottle.
He had been watching the gate for close to three days now, leaving the cover of his tree only to relieve himself or to forage for nuts and berries in the forest undergrowth. He didn't mind living in a tree. In truth it reminded him of home. Though Link was Hylian by birth he had spent most of his childhood as one of the Kokiri; forest spirits who took the form of children, and lived deep in the woods under the protection of The Great Deku tree.
I could do with some of your wisdom now, Great Deku tree. There were so many people he had left behind in Hyrule. One day, he thought. One day he'd return home.
In the three days he had waited, the guards had changed five times, once at sundown and again at first light. The next changeover would happen that evening.
Link made up his mind. It's risky, but I absolutely must cross that bridge. As he lay, watching the leaves shift and scurry in the wind, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays that broke through the leafy canopy, he thought back to the words of the fairy siblings, Tatl and Tael.
"Link, there is only one who would know the fate of your friend but the journey there will be long and hard. To the south, the Lost Woods you know give way to the Faron Woods. It is an ancient and beautiful forest. At the edge of the forest you will come to a great ravine that marks the edge of the Kingdom of Hyrule. Cross the ravine and you will find the pool of the Fairy Queen. Though she resides in the Spirit realm, she will appear to those who are pure of heart. So I guess you better work on being pure on the way then huh?"
Navi. Would the Queen really know where his fairy friend had gone? What if she didn't want to be found? She had left so abruptly at the end of their time together. With these questions weighing heavily on his mind, the gentle swaying of the branches in the breeze sent him into an uneasy slumber.
Link woke with a start to the sound of voices. A blanket of twilight had covered the land and the pale moon was shimmering through the leaves. At the gate, lit by two burning torches, the night guards could be seen chatting and laughing with the day shift. Quickly and carefully Link scrambled down the trunk, landing on the mossy earth with barely a sound. Something warm and wet nuzzled the nape of his neck, but as he spun around Link saw it was just Epona, his fiery but fiercely loyal horse and companion for so much of his journeys.
Stroking her long nose Link whispered gently "Good I'm glad you're here Epona, I have a task for you, but then we must part ways awhile". Epona lowered her head and whinnied softly. Link knew his friend would be fine on her own, she often came and went as she pleased but still he was saddened to part with her. Since they had departed Termina, she had been his only source of companionship on the long journey south.
Collecting his gear, Link made his preparations and then led Epona by the bridle to the edge of the treeline. Together they watched as the dayshift, yawning and stretching made their way slowly across the bridge before they were swallowed by the darkness on the other side.
Link waited until he was sure the guards would be well out of earshot then, drawing the sword from his back he cut a small hole in the bottom of the saddlebags hanging on Epona's flank. With one last pat and a whispered goodbye from Link, the mare reared and took off with a gallop towards the gate.
What followed was an explosion of sound and light, as if someone had set off every firework in Hyrule at once. The guards yelled and cursed, spinning around wildly for the source of the ruckus before yelping in terror at the sight of a red horse, wreathed in smoke, seemingly propelled at ungodly speeds by a salvo of cannon fire that lit up the night sky. Just before the demonic apparition reached the gate however, it spun on its hooves and trotted back down the trail away from the bridge.
The cowering guards regained enough composure to notice the saddlebags of the horse and it's payload of deku nuts, small kernels that fell from deku trees, that went off like a firecracker when thrown at the ground. The saddlebag was mostly emptied, but every now and then one would be shaken loose by Epona's prancing movements causing another flash and plume of smoke.
Angrily the guards gave chase to seize the horse and stop the racket but every time they got close, Epona would dance away from them with a mocking whinny.
In all the confusion Link slipped behind the guards and stole up to the tall, iron gate. The dayshift had locked it behind them after being relieved of duty, but Link had managed to bring a few tools with him from his time in Termina and the wooden strut that framed the gate proved to be the perfect tether for his hookshot. With the grappling device, vaulting the gate was easy and within seconds he was safe on the other side. With one last silent goodbye to his friend, who was still trotting circles around the fuming guards, Link turned and headed across the bridge to the dark forest trail beyond.
Rodan hated the winding path out of Ordon village. The village was his home, a peaceful place full of life, with streams to play in and cuccoos to chase. The trail was dark and mysterious. Tall trees dominated the sky on both sides, too densely packed together to see more than even a few feet through. Even walking along the path in the bright of day with his father made Rodan feel very small and uneasy. When he was younger, and his father would walk with him often, the slightest noise, like the harsh croak of the ravens that liked to roost in the branches, would send him scurrying to his father's side. And here he was wandering the path, in the pitch black, alone. Not by choice mind you, but his father was the Chief of all Ordon. and his word was law. At least that's what he liked to tell Rodan. It's not fair.
A noise behind him made him jump.
"Hey Rodan, where ya goin'?"
Rodan spun around, but it was just two of his friends from the village, Pip and Geral. They each had their fishing rods resting on their shoulders, and Pip was carrying a small tin filled with wriggling worms.
"Ugh, you guys almost made me spill this stew. What're you two doin' sneaking around at this time anyway?", said Rodan.
"Ooh you got stew? Lemme have a taste, I'm starvin'", said Geral, lifting the pot lid and taking a big sniff.
"Hands off, this isn't for you, ya pig. It's for the bridge guards, my Da' ordered me to deliver it to them," said Rodan, snapping the lid closed.
"Ahh that's why you're walkin' this creepy path on your own, no wonder yer so jumpy", smirked Pip. "We're gonna go fishin' on the River Nada, you should just ditch this job and come with us!"
"Yeah, we're gonna catch us a big juicy catfish and get a fire goin'. Nothin' better than roast catfish on a nice evenin' like this."
"Do you ever think about anythin' 'cept your stomach, Geral? Anyway, I can't blow off an order from my Da', he's countin' on me", Rodan said, even though in his heart he would have liked nothing better than to go bunk off with his friends.
"Oh well, guess we'll just see ya around then."
"Yeah, wouldn't want to distract the chief's big hero from his important duties." Pip and Geral walked away laughing.
"Wouldn't expect you two bums would know anythin' about responsibility", Rodan called after them, but they just waved and disappeared down the trail towards the river. Rodan sighed and continued his trek down the forest path, kicking a pebble on the ground to send it skittering away into the tall grass under the trees. It's not fair, he thought to himself again. Why did I have to be the chief's son? Stupid bridge guards. Stupid stew.
The stew did smell amazing though. He had caught a whiff of it when Geral opened the lid, and it had reminded him that he hadn't yet eaten dinner. Orla, the farmer's wife who ran a little shop in the village, had made the pumpkin stew and she was a fantastic cook. You only had to look at her plump husband, who was so round he looked a bit like a pumpkin himself, to see that. It was full of foraged nuts and mushrooms, and a generous swirl of heavy goat cream.
As he walked on, grumbling to himself under his breath, an image of his friends happily munching on roasted catfish flashed in his head, and his stomach rumbled. Briefly, the voice his father used when he was scolding Rodan rang in his mind but it was drowned out by an even louder growl from his stomach. Besides the pot was getting heavy, it only made sense to lighten the load and get his strength back. Making up his mind, Rodan placed the pot on a nearby rock, removed the lid and dipped a long wooden spoon into the thick stew.
Though there was no sound to be heard apart from the rustling of leaves, something made Rodan start. On the very edge of his vision, a shadow had moved. A shiver ran down Rodan's spine, as cold as ice though the evening was still balmy. He spun around, clutching the wooden spoon in both hands and brandishing it as if it were a sword.
"I-is somebody t-there?", he called out faltering.
A blob of orange stew slid off the spoon and into the dirt below. Rodan scanned the area where he thought he had seen the shadow intently.
"Listen whoever you are, I'm Rodan, the son of the Chief and I can have, like, a hundred guards over here just like that, okay? So umm.. just be on your way".
The snap of a twig behind made him jump and recoil. His heel clipped the rock the pot was standing on and he tumbled backwards. Both stew and boy landed heavily on the ground with a thud and a squelch. Terrified and covered in pumpkin, Rodan scurried behind the rock on his hand and knees. Cowering behind the mossy barricade, he took the goat horn that hung on his waist from its leather sheath and put it to his lips. As he raised his head, to blow with all his might into the horn that he knew would bring his father and any other able fighters within earshot to his aid, it was suddenly snatched from his grasp. Rodan looked around in total confusion for the unseen thief before his eyes alighted on his horn, about ten feet away, pinned to a tree by a feathered arrow, still quivering in the trunk. The arrow had gored the horn straight through the middle and though it was still intact, great fissures were criss-crossing the two-tone surface.
Rodan's paralysing fear was gone. His hands clenched so tightly his nails dug deep into his palms, yet he couldn't feel it. Shaking with unbridled emotion, Rodan rose from his hiding place, and drew his knife from his belt. He no longer cared who his assailant was, be it hardened warrior or hulking monster. He was the son of the Chief of Ordon and he had been wronged.
"You there, hiding in the shadows like a coward. You broke my mother's horn. You need to face me now…or…or I'll drag you out myself". Rodan was proud to note his voice did not quake once. No response. Rodan surveyed the gloom, his breathing heavy. He thought he could just about make out a shape, denser than the rest of the shadows. The craziness of what he was doing was starting to sink in. He could have an arrow trained on his breast and he would never know until he hit the dirt.
"I see you. Come out and answer for your c-crime". In his mind he sounded like his father, strong and commanding - a voice that brokered no dissent. He clasped his knife white-knuckled with both hands. His father had crafted it himself, as a gift for his tenth year. It was sturdy, made of antler bone and polished steel, but had seen more use as an eating utensil than a weapon. And it was small - a child's toy.
The shadows coalesced and the shape stepped forward into the dim moonlight. Rodan was amazed. Before him stood not a great Knight or fearsome creature, but a small boy, younger than himself by at least a few years he guessed, dressed in a strange green garb. More amazing still, he seemed to be heavily armed. Rodan noted a sword in a gilded sheath, a broad shield upon his back, and the shortbow in his right hand. In his left he held an arrow of the same type that had pierced his horn, though he had not yet knocked it to his bow. Rodan also noted his long, pointy ears peeking out from under his odd, drooping cap. A hylian, Rodan thought in amazement.
"Let me pass and we'll have no problems", the strange boy said.
Rodan threw back his head and laughed. The situation was just too comical. A child, armed like a soldier, making threats in that squeaky voice.
"Sorry little knight, but we already got problems. You're a Hylian ain't ya? Is the King so afraid of my Dad he's sendin' kids to spy on us now?"
"I'm sorry about your horn…and your soup. I'm sure your Mother can make you more of both".
Rodan lowered his head and fingered his knife.
"Don't talk about my Ma', or I'll make you regret it". There was an edge to his voice that made the Hylian tense. The boy spun the arrow between his fingers as he regarded Rodan. The Ordonian was taller by a head; broader too. But the hand on his knife trembled slightly, and pumpkin soup still blotted his jerkin and trousers. With a swift movement he returned the arrow to his quiver and shrugged the bow onto his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, I lost my Mother too". With that he turned and walked up the trail in the direction of Fairy Pond.
"H-Hey, wait! Don't just walk away from me".
What is with this kid? He looks like Geral's little brother could toss him in a wrestle, but acts like some battle-weary soldier. Still shouting, Rodan ran after him.