Helllooo! It is Monday once again, and time for another chapter! The story starts to pick up in this one, so yay! And I'll leave it at that :).

The next day, Hazen pulled his face from his book and blinked at the page. Link raised a brow. "Tired?"

Hazen's face fell back into the book. "You have no idea," he muttered, nearly unintelligible by the pages. Link snorted.

"Did you manage to derail your brother?"

"Barely." Hazen turned his face so he was understandable. "Is there a reason he's obsessed with the West Hall?"

"Probably because it's where he 'came so close' to proving Batreaux has been a demon all this time," Link said candidly.

"Mmpf," Hazen muttered, staring drearily at the wall. "He's nothing if not determined."

"Takes after his mother," Link responded, sipping his morning tea. Hazen watched him for a few moments, his mind drifting back to the day before. "Hey, dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"Are you . . . do you think about the war often?"

Link set his tea down, blinking at Hazen. "Sometimes. Why? What's wrong?"

I don't know, Hazen wanted to say. He straightened, peeling his face from the book. "I don't know if there's anything wrong, per se, but . . . I just think about it a lot. Is that weird?"

Link tried for a smile, but it was clear he was disconcerted. "Well, I suppose it depends on which aspect of the war you're thinking about."

Hazen thought about it for a moment. "The aftermath."

His father cocked his head, a gesture to continue. "It's just," Hazen said, scratching his head. "Is it . . . normal to be so mired in what happened two decades ago? It feels like it's everywhere I go, all the time. And everyone's always mentioning it."

His father didn't respond immediately, so Hazen glanced at him. He was sitting straight, but his shoulders had slumped a bit, and his eyes were swirling in memory. "I think," Link said slowly. "That something so . . . traumatic takes a while to get over. As long as there are people to remember, the memory of it will be there. As it is, it never really goes away. And truthfully, it hasn't been long at all since the war was finished."

Twenty years wasn't long? How long was long, then? Another conversation, a long ago one, drifted to the forefront of Hazen's mind, and he found himself studying Link's face closely. His father noticed after a few moments. "Hazen? Is something wrong?"

"Are the memories kept fresh because you and mom don't age?" Hazen blurted, then gasped. He clapped his hands over his mouth, then removed them, ready to apologize, but Link just blinked. "Um." He scratched his chin. "I don't . . . think so? No one's ever mentioned it."

Hazen found that hard to believe, but his father wasn't one to lie. Even so, Link hadn't aged a day since the war had ended, judging by the photos around their apartments. And following that thought through to its conclusion, along with the words Link himself had said--as long as there are people that remember, the memory will be there--then it would make sense for the memory to be constantly refreshed if Link looked the exact same as the day Ganondorf died.

He debated asking Link, but didn't know how it would be received. But Link took his hands, prompting him to meet his father's gaze. "Hazen. You can tell me anything. Let me help you."

Heaving a sigh, Hazen told him his theory. Link took it with grace, and even considered its plausibility. "I suppose that makes sense," he admitted, clasping his hands. "I wonder if it's got to do with this."

He lifted his hand, where the Triforce's imprint was painted a light gold. But Hazen remembered his conversation with Zelda four years prior, and found himself leaving forward in excitement. "I thought of that. I talked to mom, and she and I think that maybe you two are part of the ancient Hylian bloodline. It's said that those ancient Hylians had long lifespans, so perhaps you retain enough blood to extend your lives beyond the normal spans?"

Link cocked his head. "Oh?"

Hazen was excited now. "Yes, but then there was an issue with blood dilution, and so I thought, in order to maintain blood primacy, there would have to be a, uh, well . . ."

Link seemed to be fighting a smile now. "Yes? Go on."

Hazen cleared his throat. "Well, I thought maybe there would be a . . . merging, of the bloodlines, if you will. Marrying in, repeatedly, perhaps not in the same lifespans, or even in the same generations, if they lived beyond their expected mortality, that is, but it would have to be prominent for it to last so long, and still be prevalent in your blood. But then . . ."

"Continue, please. This is fascinating."

Hazen opened his mouth, then narrowed his eyes at his father, who was grinning without restraint now. "Are you mocking me?"

"Hazen, I would never mock you. I love hearing you go off like this."

His tone was genuine enough, so Hazen screwed his mouth and said, "Fine. As I was saying, if there was enough bloodline merges for Ancient Hylian blood to make it into your bloodlines, then that would mean you and mom are related. Could that be true?"

Link considered it. "Well, I suppose it makes sense, but then we come back to blood dilution. Assuming Ancient Hylian blood is as powerful as the legends say, then they wouldn't have to marry in terribly often to maintain blood primacy. The power in the blood would keep the extended lifespans powered long enough for any descendants to never know their ancestry's, ah, compromised methods of keeping blood primacy."

Hazen thought about that. "But what if it got watered down with all the non-ancient Hylian blood mixing in? I mean, we're going on an assumption that the Ancient blood was potent enough in the first place, but if it wasn't, then a lack of sufficient marrying-in of ancient Hylian blood might have prevented that blood from reaching this far down the bloodline."

"Well if that's the case, then what about me?" Link supposed, gesturing at himself. "Not many can claim to look exactly the same at 40 as when they were in their twenties."

"That's true," Hazen muttered, unaware of their audience. "So I guess that means you and mom are related, if extremely distantly?"

"It might even explain why Dinsel and Faroe are such geniuses at such a young age," Link supplied, earning a snort from Zelda, who'd been standing there for the better part of the conversation. "The Ancient Hylians were far ahead of their time, with the help of the Sheikah."

Hazen didn't hear her, too lost in the horror of his father's words. "Oh goddesses, no," he whispered.

"Hey!" A small hand smacked him in the back of the head. "We're not that bad," Dinsel argued, taking a seat at the table.

"Yeah," Faroe added, fixing his green shirt. "It's not our fault you're stupid."

"Oh yeah?" Hazen said, cracking his knuckles. "Well, it's not my fault you're a shrimp."

Faroe stood up angrily as Dinsel choked. Zelda shared an eye roll with Link. "I'm not a shrimp, Hazen!" Faroe yelled, stomping his foot. "Take it back!"

"Nope, sorry, no can do," Hazen said, standing. "After all, if you're not little shrimps, then why can I do this?"

Too late, the twins realized what Hazen was planning. They screeched and leapt from the table, but Hazen scooped them up and turned them upside down in his arms, tossing them up and catching them. It was tiring, but hearing them scream his ear off in delight was worth it.

Zelda and Link were at the table laughing, and a small voice at his feet made Hazen look down. Past his brothers' red faces was Nayra reaching up for Hazen. "My turn, my turn!"

Laughing, Hazen put his brothers down and lifted Nayra, grinning as she squealed. "Higher!"

The twins were pulling on his legs. "Do me now!"

"No, you got longer than me!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

Their yanking was pulling Hazen off balance, and he pretended to buckle under their hands, calling out, "I--Can't! Gravity . . . pulling me . . . I'm falling!"

All three of his siblings screamed as he fell with an anguished cry, and then they crawled over him, sitting on his chest and legs. "We've defeated you, evildoer!" Dinsel crowed victoriously.

Faroe dipped his sister, who was giggling uncontrollably. "And I've saved the princess! Don't worry, Nayvis, you'll be safe now!"

"Ahhh!" Hazen groaned from the floor, partly in character and partly being literally crushed by his brothers. "You've . . . thwarted me this time, heroes, but I'll get you! Next time . . ."

Hazen slumped, his character having "died", and rolled, gently depositing Dinsel to the floor. He was unperturbed, but Faroe had a better seat, and wasn't dislodged. Link must have noticed Hazen's face growing red and intervened.

"All right, mister hero," he said, lifting Faroe off of his brother. "Even heroes need to eat."

"Ooh, ooh! Can I have the one with strawberries?" Dinsel asked, scrambling for his seat. Hazen stood and brushed himself off, retaking his seat. As the servants brought out breakfast--pancakes with fruit toppings and small bowls of cream, sausage links with toast, and glasses of water and juice--Zelda smiled as Nayra told her about a dream she'd had the night before, Link entertained the boys with exaggerated tales of victory in the field, and Hazen inserted little remarks where he could.

It was a bit of a long affair, but breakfast usually was. It was one of the only times they really got to be a family. Zelda and Link had to go attend to their individual duties, Dinsel, Faroe and Nayra had lessons, and Hazen whiled away the time with his own studies. Usually he found Tessen and studied with him, though those sessions usually derailed into either Hazen teasing his best friend about Saval, or Tessen grilling Hazen about the really important things, like the proper way to grill a Cucco without dying.

After breakfast, the younger kids were sent to their rooms to get ready for the day, and Hazen helped gather the dishes. After the table was clear, he leaned against it and looked around the room.

The dining room was off the enormous living room--it had to be big enough to house four kids, after all--and overlooked another cavern. The bay window took almost the whole wall, and the floors throughout the apartments were smoothed down stone. Carpets were laid over, and in the living room, a fireplace took over the wall to Hazen's right. Doors led off to each of their halls--the kids in one, and the parents in the other. On the far wall of the living room, floor to ceiling windows overlooked the cavern the rooms were built into. The kitchen was big, with a large table in the middle carved of one piece of wood, and framed pictographs and odds and ends sat alongside a wild-looking clock on a cube organizer, where the plates were stored.

It was their home, Hazen thought. Where they could be a family, and not just the royal family. And when his parents came back from being the rulers of the world, they'd settle in with a glass of wine and the candles burning low and just be. Sometimes they'd even invite their friends to visit with their kids.

Hazen smiled a bit before going to get ready. He decided on a simple white shirt and a blue sash tied around the waist and cream pants. He was going riding today, after all. He didn't want to get his good clothes dirty.

Running his hands through his hair, he jogged to the door and waved bye to his parents and siblings, and left.

The way to Tessen was always pretty straightforward: go to the library. If he wasn't there . . . well, actually, Hazen never really had to worry about that. And true to form, when he got there, the librarians simply pointed him to the upper mezzanine with a reminder to keep it down.

He pulled himself up the stairs, loving how quiet it was here. He and Tessen both had decided they weren't fighters--they could hold their own, having been trained by both their parents and Commander Impa, but fighting wasn't their goal. Studying, learning, that was what they wanted to do.

They'd thrown themselves at anything and everything, not giving up until they'd understood it, and understood it well. And now, as Hazen took a seat at Tessen's table and pulled a book towards him, he couldn't help but think about the one thing he just couldn't understand, no matter how much he knocked his head against it.

He hadn't realized his frustration was radiating to Tessen, but a hand on his arm made him look up. Tessen was watching him, his glasses perched below disheveled hair. "Are you okay?"

Hazen sighed, struggling to articulate it. He just didn't get it . . . what was wrong with him? Was . . . could it be . . .

He remembered what he'd admitted to his father, years ago. Before his naming ceremony. His fear of not being able to live up the standard his parents had set. Was that it? Could he still be concerned with that? He'd thought he'd made peace with it. But the more he thought about it . . .

"I guess I'm . . . afraid. I used to be. I thought, after my naming ceremony, I would have gotten over it. But now, everywhere I go, people talk to me about the war, and me, and my parents. It's everywhere. And maybe my old fears . . . aren't as old as I thought."

Tessen watched him for a long moment, watching him screwing his mouth as he scanned the library. "No one's expecting you to do what they did, Hazen."

Hazen sighed. "I know. But what do they expect? What do they want me to do? And how could it ever measure up to what they did?"

"Does it matter?"

Hazen blinked, then sat up in a flash, meeting Tessen's level stare. "What?"

"Does it matter?" Tessen repeated, fixing his glasses. "Think about it, Hazen. The empire is at peace. What monsters remain are terrified of the Alliance. There are no great enemies, no primal evil of our time. Our parents took care of that."

"Uh, yeah. I know. That's the point--"

"Which means," Tessen said, glaring at Hazen, "that what we do has to make sure that peace continues. Our parents fought to make sure we would have a safe future. Now we need to ensure that everyone else after us does, too. It may not be fighting a war, but it's every bit as important as winning one."

Hazen chewed over his best friend's words before sitting back, snapping his fingers at Tessen. "This is why you're my best friend."

Tessen snorted. "This is what happens when the smartest woman in the empire has kids."

Hazen laughed with him. "Actually, the smartest woman in the empire is my mom, not yours."

"Wrong." A female voice joined the conversation, and Hazen opened his eyes to see Saval drop a few books on the table. "Your mother is the wisest woman in the empire. There's a difference between wisdom and intelligence."

Hazen pursed his lips, noting Tessen's reaction. As he did every time he heard Saval's soft, melodic voice, his face grew pink, and he fixed his tie. "And to complete the trio, what's your mother known for?" he asked, leaving back in his chair, fixing Saval with a daring smile.

She met it with her usual coolness and sat in the chair she pulled up for herself. "Being the most beautiful, of course."

The boys immediately argued, despite having no real argument. Both their mothers had unnatural beauty, even in their forties, but Twilight Queen Midna was . . . different.

"I don't understand," Tessen was saying. "How can she still look like that? She's, like, 50!"

Saval slapped his arm. "She's 42, stupid. And I don't know." She leaned back with an innocent look. "Maybe you should ask her."

"Ha," Hazen said flatly. "And get our heads ripped off? No thanks."

Saval tsked. "She's not that bad, honestly."

"I wasn't talking about your mom," Hazen said. "I meant your dad."

"Well at least you have some sort of protection," Tessen complained. "Dark wouldn't kill his own nephew."

"Oh, please," Hazen rolled his eyes. "You're in the same boat. You're practically family."

At that, Tessen sent Hazen a look, so potent that it was hard not to laugh. Saval said nothing, pretending not to hear, but Tessen, seeing the laughter about to burst out of Hazen, let out a tiny groan and stood. "I'm going to get ready."

"Finally."

Hazen stood, extending a hand to Saval, and despite the awkwardness, it never lasted long. The three were all best friends, and Saval was well aware of Tessen's feelings. Though she denied it, or more often opted not to answer, Hazen also knew that Saval felt the same for Tessen.

Getting them to admit it to each other, though, was a war all on its own.

Saval took his hand, and together the three left the library and headed down to the stables. Hazen walked with his hands clasped behind his head. Technically, he was supposed to be watching his siblings, but the twins had lessons, and Nayra had her handler. They could do without him for a few hours before he had to be back.

They strolled into the stables, chatting amongst themselves, and Hazen breathed in the fresh air--or, as fresh as it could be, anyway. The sunlight beat down on his face, warming him from head to toe, and he sighed happily. "Where are we riding today, guys?"

Tessen was brushing down his horse, a gift from his father a few years ago. "I was thinking of Kokiri Forest? There was something I wanted to check out."

"Of course," Saval muttered. "The place that traps adults and kids in its trees for eternity, and there's 'something he wants to check out'."

"That's the Lost Woods, actually, and yes, is there a problem with that?" Tessen materialized beside her, smirking when she rolled her eyes. "Come on guys, it'll be fun!"

"Right," Hazen said under his breath. "That's what you say every time."

"Oh?" Tessen countered. "Well, then, I guess you don't want to visit the Bridge of the Hero ruins, which was burned during the Fall of Termina . . ."

Hazen pursed his lips. "Well, you didn't say so at first," he muttered, grinning once he saw Tessen's eyes roll.

Now he was excited, but they had all day, and so they took their time getting their horses ready, and saddled up. Dirt and clumps of grass kicked out from under the hooves as they made their way to the paths leading to the forest. As they passed through the stream of traffic heading to the city, Hazen glanced out to the Field, his mouth tightening before facing forward.

The ride took a few hours, and they stopped in Kakariko Village on the way. After a filling lunch of rice balls and pumpkin-and-vegetable-stew, they were back on their way. A niggling feeling worried at his mind, but Hazen knew his siblings would be at their lessons most of the day, so he wasn't all that concerned. And his parents knew what he was doing today, if not where, exactly. As they passed within the forest boundaries, he felt a pulse go through the air, so powerful and sudden it brought his horse to a halt.

"Woah, girl!" He soothed his mare, looking around the woods, but there was nothing. Tessen and Saval rode up next to him, looking as confused as he was.

"What was that?" Saval asked, twisting in her saddle.

"It felt like . . ." Tessen trailed off, his gaze meeting Hazen's, then Saval's. They nodded.

"Like power," Tessen murmured. As he said it, another pulse went through, making the leaves shiver. Hazen turned his mare in a circle, trying to pinpoint the origin. Even though the sun was shining as strong as before, it seemed that the woods were . . . darker, somehow. He could almost feel the old magic creep up around him, making the trees creak, the leaves whisper.

"We have to find that pulse," Tessen said, wheeling his horse around to an overgrown path. "I think it came from here."

Hazen was unsure; he really didn't like the look of that path. The sunlight didn't pierce the foliage as well as it did where they stood, and he couldn't see too far down it. "I don't know," he said uneasily.

Saval nudged her horse forward, but he was having none of it. She grunted as he crow-hopped, dancing away from the path. He made the other horses uneasy, and even Hazen's mare, normally so even-tempered, started to dance a little.

"Tessen, this is a bad idea," he called. "We should leave. The Bridge can wait for another day."

Something wasn't right, they could feel it. Tessen swallowed hard and turned away from the path. "Let's . . . let's go to the Applean Forest instead."

That forest was sparse and filled with apple trees and nothing else, but none of them were arguing. As they wheeling their skittish horses away, another pulse, more powerful than the others, swept through, so fast that it knocked Saval from her saddle.

"Saval!"

Tessen tried to dismount, but his mount was erratic now, and Hazen couldn't control his own horse. He gritted his teeth, fighting for control of the reins, when a laugh echoed through the trees. He whirled in the saddle, trying to find the source, but it drifted between trunks.

"Hazen!"

He turned and came face to face with--

"AHHH!!"

That was the last straw. His horse reared, throwing him, and bolted through the trees. Tessen's mount was close behind, followed by Saval's, and then they were alone.

Hazen stared at thin air, his chest heaving. "What . . . what was that," he whispered, shivering. He swallowed against a dry throat, scanning the trees, but there was nothing, nothing, no m--

"Hazen!"

Saval fell to her knees at his side, checking him for injuries. Tessen had his sword drawn, keeping his back to them. Saval pulled Hazen to his feet.

"You all saw that, right?" Tessen said, his voice hard--with fear, Hazen realized.

"The face?" Saval said, quietly. She searched the trees, amber eyes wide.

Hazen shook his head, seeing it in his mind, feeling cold sweat drip down his back. "Not a face," he corrected, voice hoarse. "A mask."

Oh boy, I wonder who that could be ;).

Review replies!

To Queen Emily the Diligent: Oh, capital T! I honestly love writing children so much, it allows for so much fun, and they can get away with shit I want to have the adults do but can't lmfao.

If only defeating Ganondorf was as easy as "We've defeated you evildoer!" Hahaha!