The door opening stirred Rowark awake from his deep slumber. He tried to open his eyelids, but the soreness spread throughout his body kept him paralyzed. The immediate sensation that rudely welcomed his awakening was a torturous stiffness that infected his body. It was as if the only way to relieve the tension was to move, but Rowark had felt this soreness before, and he knew that more movement only invited more pain. He was in a bed of some sort, that much he could gather from the cushy, soft feeling underneath him.

It had seemed whoever had entered was in mid-conversation, "... removed before the next morning's day of light."

"Okay, but what do we do with… him?" it was a woman's voice. Sasha's. It was hard to determine who "him" was, but something about the way she said it implied it was Rowark. His eyes fluttered open at the sound of his name. Though he dared not to move his stiff neck muscles, his eyes did not get sore. A long, wooden frame floated on top and hung pink drapes along the sides, and the ceiling above the bed frame had a familiar, wooden pattern.

"I shall handle that." His voice was unknown, but somehow familiar. It sounded older, mature, formal.

Unconvinced, she growled in response, "How?"

"I shall make that announcement once he's awake, which I believe he is."

Rowark's blood froze at the revelation and looked towards the voices, which he immediately regretted after every muscle hurt for him to retreat back to his supine position. "Argh," he groaned loudly. Though a thin, foreign quilt covered Rowark's body from neck to toe, he did not have to see the bandages and splints underneath to know that his body was almost completely wrapped in first aid.

He slowly, but agonizingly, lifted his head off the pillow to see who was in the room and identify where he was exactly. Immediately after recognizing the shape and placement of the Sasha's dresser, tables, desks, and decor, he recognized both the beautiful woman that was Sasha and the silver haired old man standing next to her. He was at Rowark's knighting. Not only knighted by the Queen, but to have the legendary the Royal Guardian be present at his knighting, Rowark was suddenly stricken with the oddity that Nayru's Judge had come all the way out here, to see him?

Sir Mawar wore the most complex expression Rowark had ever encountered. His smile seemed genuine yet worn, the skin on his face had aged terribly, but his thick beard helped hide much of the wrinkles. The one thing his blue eyes and Sasha's red eyes had in common was that both pairs looked friendly at first sight. His each part of his colorful robe all had significance in his status. The blue robe meant that he worked under the judicial branch of the Crown; the dark red sleeves meant he was the top of his branch. The red sash symbolizing his military service held dozens of medals to commemorate his every famed deed on the battlefield, enough to cover the entire front side. Complimenting his sash was the golden ring on his finger, his most valuable possession, to represent his time served as one of the Queen's Royal Guards, the highest ranking branch of military in all of Hyrule consisting of the nine greatest knights in all of Hyrule, who even even outranked Din's Marshall of Her Majesty's Army.

How Sir Rowark matched his chivalrous mannerisms and tall posture to his esteemed rank! His lengthy legs and upright breast elevated his sharp blue eyes above all the rest so that he may watch all underneath him like a hawk. Complimenting his majestic stature was a gilded scabbard hanging off of his belt.

Sasha motioned to a beautiful, young attendant standing by to assist him, and the beautiful, young servant, wearing surprisingly modest, beige robes, helped Rowark sit up straight and adjusted the pillows for him.

Sir Mawar cleared his throat, "Good evening, Rowark. You never seem to rest, do you?"

Rowark smiled, "The only rest deserved is the rest earned." He could not believe he just brought up his old village's proverb. It was on the lips of every hard working man and woman where he grew up.

The old man nodded, "Your diligence is certainly noted. How are you feeling?"

Documenting the extent of his pain by twitching every muscle in his body, Rowark groaned in agony, "I'll live, Sir."

Sir Mawar lifted his blue eyes briefly to meet them with Sasha, and then they both nodded. "While Sasha here is sincerely grateful for preventing any further causes of panic," Rowark looked over at Sasha, who smiled back to confirm the sincerity behind his words. Once he felt confident in Sasha, he looked back to Sir Mawar, "Your involvement was certainly helpful for both parties. But it has also created a problem."

Rowark gulped.

"Don't worry. There will be an agreeable solution for all of us, one that I think we can all unanimously accept. But first allow me to explain the situation." An impatient groan erupted from Sasha. "What you have witnessed is something that must be kept secret."

"That, purple fire? That explosion? All those dead?"

Without even a blink, Sir Mawar straight-faced said, "You may confirm that people have died in the incident, but we are about to send a story to the herald's guild that a rogue Wizzrobe summoned a demon in the plaza."

Rowark unleashed the largest, most hesitant sigh in history of expressions of uncertainty. The Throne was going to straight-faced lie about this incident to the public. And Rowark had to play along or disobey the very Throne he had sworn to protect. Reluctant as he was, he knew better than to show it. "Then, do you mind me asking, what exactly did I fight out there?"

Rowark looked to Sir Mawar for an answer, who did not immediately reply and, instead, looked to Sasha's frown for an answer. Responding with her own resolute stare, she refused to let up, "The secret does not reach his ears."

The seasoned knight persisted, "It has already reached his eyes. Without proper supervision, it will only be a matter of time before the diligent, young squire concludes the investigation of the matter anyhow, and then who knows whose else's ears will hear his conclusion." Sasha's eyes narrowed but remained deathly quiet.

Rowark had no idea what was going on behind her deadly glare, but Sir Mawar snapped like a trap catching prey, "Don't even think about it Sasha! You know the repercussions of harming one of ours in your house!" Rowark felt his heart race from the sudden, sharp tone as he watched Sasha retreat her glare. Did she… think about… killing him just now? "He has been exposed to sensitive information, yes, now allow me to tutor the boy on how to deal with such information. But at least please enlighten him from your point of view. I'm sure he would be a fine ally to have on your side."

Dead silence was painted on her lips and eyes. Then a sigh erupted from her face, lightening her mood, "Fine. But only because…" a sinister glance from her eyes bore into his own, "your secret is safe with me." A shot of blood rushed through his body. It was too late for Rowark to rebuttal, and the last person who needed to know about his curse was the seasoned judge who could non hesitantly sentence him to prison or execute him for breaking the law.

Once Sasha recognized the panicked look on Rowark's face, she relaxed her stance, "My family name, Ganford, is a break from Gerudo tradition. Normally, only a male Gerudo can begin a dynasty. All his daughters' will inherit his given name as their family name to mark the birth of a new dynasty. Any daughters sired from a Hylian man keep the family name of the mother. But our mothers long ago changed our names because…," another hesitation, "because Ganford was changed from, Ganondorf."

Even speaking the name of the ancient beholder of the Triforce of Power alarmed Rowark, "You mean to say-?"

"That all Gerudo living in Hyrule Castle City," Sasha's hesitant sigh widened Rowark's eyes, "is a descendant of Ganondorf. What you witnessed is our dynasty's secret connection to his infamous legacy." He had just fought someone who had inherited not only Ganondorf's name, but his powers as well. It all made sense. "When unleashed, it gives each woman enhanced power as well as a burning coat of fire. But we do not possess the Triforce of Power like our ancestor once did, so our bodies cannot endure the extreme heat, nor control it. Once it is begun, the sister has about five minutes before the fire consumes her completely.

"It is a terrible curse that we regrettably bear, and it is a curse we vow upon birth to keep from coming into light. Please do not misjudge us based on our name. Our mothers and sisters were banished from our homeland to this foreign city and have spent half a century trying to curry favor with our hostile neighbors just to find a roof to sleep under."

"Good Goddesses, I could never do that!" was Rowark's immediate, unthinking response, "Afterall, you certainly did not choose your lineage!" Though Rowark could not offer much in his injured state, the least he could do was have some empathy. How nice it must be if he were born with a name like Nohansen or Ingo instead of Forester, or Ganford. Of course, the idea that Sasha could burst into purple flames at will and that every woman walking beneath her feet could do the same unsettled him, but he could not blame the Gerudo for wanting to shed their cursed bloodline.

Sasha received his goodwill gratefully, "Thank you. Then you understand why it is important that our dynasty must remain a Gerudo secret." Rowark's nod was all that was needed to confirm that both parties held information that could potentially destroy the other if shared.

"Indubitably so," Sir Mawar inserted himself, "But sorry to say, we can't trust the word of some boy of interest who only received his promotion this morning. You are, to put it frankly, too much of an unknown variable to me and my colleagues. To remedy this, I believe the best solution for all of us is…" a quick glance to Sasha made the pause all the more dramatic... "for me to personally assign you a knight through your Squirehood." Oh man, he's gonna watch me like a hawk, Rowark shuddered at the thought of Sir Mawar's piercing eyes indirectly hovering and judging his every action.

"Um, if," Rowark turned to Sasha to gauge her response to the old man's simple solution, which still felt overboard, "if that is what you think best."

"My wish is not for the scrutiny to interrupt your daily life at all. I do view you as a promising candidate for knighthood. When I first received recommendation of your promotion by Sir Triss, I had to admit, I had no idea who you were at all. Which is surprising because it is my job to know things. Then he told me that you had served over a hundred missions with fifteen different volunteer companies over the past two years," a chuckle broke from his lips, "Fifty volunteer sorties per year! Usually a soldier tries his best to make twelve at least if he's trying to impress a commanding knight, and here we have someone who has made it a once-a-tendo hobby."

"Such recognition from you is a great honor, Sir. Thank you. But I, I wasn't doing this for fame or anything."

"Clearly. That was not what impressed me. Your military record, and why you were never recommended, was what impressed me. When I finally read your past on paper, I found that you had deliberately changed volunteer companies each tendo, and you served with nine different volunteer companies only once a season. On top of that, you are a soldier with no bloody blemishes on his record!"

Sir Mawar's eyes suddenly narrowed into a digging glare, "It was as if you never wanted your name to be whispered into the Queen's ear or mine own."

Do not swallow, do not swallow, do not swallow, the young boy exerted his every best effort to manifest his mantra into his stoic, shielded face. "Well," he had no idea how to diffuse the tense sentiments, "Thank you, at least, for acknowledging my efforts."

Though gratitude was the first thought that came to his mind, hearing Sir Mawar and the Queen, two of the highest entities of the law in Hyrule, list Rowark's accomplishments helped make him accept the title of "Sir" more and more, and that he was certainly thankful for. "Of course, I had reached this conclusion after you had been knighted, so had I found out your record said that you were the opposite of what Sir Triss had said about you, then the conclusion would have been just as moot.

"Oh well," he paused to allow himself a grin, "What I was leading to is, why do you go to such lengths to serve?"

This time, Rowark ducked his eyes to avert the veteran's. The complex answer to that question had many ties to his past, something he did not want in the minds of anyone but his sister. There were only positives for spending time to serve, "Well, for starters, I really don't like latrine duty."

Sir Mawar's grin opened up and revealed his pearly white teeth, "You jest. You keep your bloody record clean and work overtime... just to avoid latrine duty?"

"And the volunteer companies treat me better than my own company does sometimes," because no one there knows who I am. He was fortunate that the Her Majesty's Army had enough numbers by the thousands that each volunteer sortie always had a new cavalcade of unrecognizable faces. "And I, I believe it's my duty to the Goddesses and the realm, to serve whenever and wherever I can."

Sir Mawar wanted to speak, but he had to chuckle and express his amusement with Rowark's answer, sending an uncomfortable chill down Rowark's spine, "That's wonderful to hear. Are you devout?"

His spirituality was something he was more than happy to share, "I live by the good book and worship twice a tendo, Sir." But something did not feel quite right with his answer, honest as it was. Despite his piety, he had never once felt that his devotion and sacrifices to the Goddesses were adequate enough. Perhaps that was why he volunteered so much, to fill that inadequacy?

"I have no doubt you have a magnanimous heart. The Queen is fortunate to have knighted one who is in fear of our Goddesses and holds the highest reverence for the throne. And I would never encourage anybody knighted by the Queen herself to break their solemn oath to act with justice and compassion.

"However," his sigh and grave look changed the beat of the conversation drastically, "the realm refuses to ever be that simple. The realm's laws are one layer of rules in our great society that we must obey, morality being another layer. These rules are to be obeyed, as dictated by the Goddess of Wisdom herself. But there are also certain realities that conflict with these various layers, and yet we must obey these additional layers of rules just as the Goddess Nayru commands our bodies to obey the laws of nature."

"Certain realities? I do not follow." In a sense, Rowark did understand Nayru's Judge's vague words about laws and morality. He had pessimistically concluded long ago that the way the lower classes whored, killed, and spread hatred was only a reflection of those who ruled from the upper class. There was nothing in his past that could veer him away from this judgement.

"While we must always follow the laws of the realm and of the Goddesses, we must also serve the Crown. Sometimes, however, these three entities conflict with each other. That means during these moment we must choose whom to serve, the laws of the realm, will of the Goddesses, and the sovereignty of the Queen, like feeding an alternative story to the heralds for tomorrow's news."

"But, what does lying have anything to do with protecting the serving the Crown and protecting the realm?"

"The Queen is not only chosen by the Goddesses, but she is voted into the Throne by the will of the people as well. For the realm to remain strong, she must become the physical embodiment of both wills. Of course, not all agree with either representation. There are many enemies, foreign and domestic, who oppose the Queen's righteous rule. The Queen's most dangerous enemies are the ones who are powerful enough to openly stand against her, but they are only powerful enough to do so because they have crafted countless alliances. In the same regard, the Queen also forges powerful alliances for obvious reasons and the not so obvious but nevertheless more important reason of denying the enemies an ally of their own. It is unfortunate to say this but," the old man lifted his chin and brushed his beard, "the Throne is in a, diplomatic war of sorts.

"In order to win this war without direct fighting, it is important to build good rapport with all the people in the realm," Sir Mawar extended his hand, dangling the blue embroidery on his red sleeve, toward Sasha, "Sasha and the Ganfords are one of many such allies… You look a little lost."

Rowark was suddenly aware of the gawked expression on his face, "I think… I get it…" It wasn't the amount of information he had to take in all in one day that unsettled him, it was lives that had been lost only hours ago. Since Rowark's return, he had witnessed too many people die. What was worse was that he had no idea why their lives had ended, and what was even worse was the way Sir Mawar justified keeping it that way.

"Wonderful. You are still young and green, but there is hope yet for you to learn about all the different layers of rules so that you may better serve the realm. You will still have to attend and graduate from Skyloft Academy after squirehood, and then, your assignments will be at the mercy of the higher echelons. But armed with the knowledge to fight injustice in our world, I expect you to go far in your military servitude."

Skyloft Academy. Rowark's heart skipped a beat. Sitting on top of Valor Island, Skyloft not only served as the quarters for all of Her Majesty's knights, but also trained all of the newly knighted. Before battle had hardened the young pages, Rowark and the other children dreamed of being knighted and then attending the prestigious school that would prepare them for knighthood. But after seeing their first comrades die, their dream quickly changed to simply surviving another day. Rowark was so in shock by the knighting that he had completely forgotten that his childish dream was coming true. His jaw slowly dropped open as the reality was catching up to him. "When does training begin?"

"The next session of Skyloft Academy does not begin until the beginning of Autumn. So in the meantime, every newly knighted will be assigned to squire under a veteran. You'll hear all about it tomorrow, or the day after I believe. So," Sir Mawar looked around the room, "are all parties in agreement?"

Only one sound was uttered from Sasha's mouth, "Hmph." The ambiguous answer became her approval with the copacetic nod on her suspicious face. The way she looked at Rowark made it seem like she trusted the boy she just met more than the man she already knew.

"Excellent." The old man lifted the lapel of his robe to sneak his hand within and withdrew a small vial with a red liquid inside. Known as red medicine, its contents once imbibed could instantly reverse life threatening wounds on the battlefield. Every soldier carried at least two when deployed. "Here, to aid your recovery," said Sir Mawar with less than righteous intentions behind his eyes.

"Thankee Sir," was the only appropriate response to such a gesture.

"Don't thank me just yet. You will be shouldering many responsibilities and burdens, which will not be easy. So, Rowark Forester, I'm afraid it has come down to this. Technically as your superior, I order you to take significant relaxation tomorrow…" The stern look on Sir Mawar's face was almost seemed to say, If you don't, I'll know... "The medicine alone won't be enough. The body needs rest to recover from the terrible strain you have already placed upon it," he said as he brushed his beard and handed the vial to the attendant.

Her hands opened the bottle and then gently tilted Rowark's chin upward as she guided the cold fluid into his throat. By now, Rowark had drank the medicine countless times, so he had all but forgotten what it had felt like to feel rejuvenated again; except for the warmth, he had to remove the blanket so as not to feel like he was being cooked alive.

Like a newborn babe, Rowark shook his head and stretched his arms out, "What time of day is it?" He looked out a window opposite the room and saw dark, not even a glimmer of light.

"Late," answered Sir Mawar.

"Several hours too late…" added Sasha annoyingly, "again."

"I arrived with all due haste," said Sir Mawar unapologetically, "and that haste involved a lot of paperwork that will compensate you for your losses and damages."

"This is the third time this tendo, out of dozens this season already!" she was beginning to unleash Din's fury upon the old knight, "When will you realize that preventing these damages is more cost effective than paying for them?"

The comment drew an irate smirk across Sir Mawar's beard. "May we," the old man threw a quick, subtle glance at Rowark, "discuss this outside?"

"Hmph," retorted Sasha, "very well. Rowark, have a good night of rest." She turned for the door and

"So um," interrupted Rowark, "what of my friends?"

"Your companions have each been compensated for a night's stay within the walls. They have been notified of the, situation," Sir Mawar's instant, sharp glare felt as severe as the potential consequences for slipping the truth to his companions, "You have a free day tomorrow I believe. Orientation is usually held at the end of the tendo after the knighting."

"What day is it today?"

"Today is ninth day eve. So indeed, orientation is the day after tomorrow. Enjoy your day off. You will have a long fortnight after that." Sir Mawar took his leave for the door, where Sasha had waited for him.

"Oh, before I forget," said Sasha, "would you like some company for the evening?"

"Uh," Rowark looked over at Sir Mawar who was walking for the exit, "Um. Please?" Sasha quietly muttered instructions to her attendant with her native tongue.

"One last thing," said the old man just before he was about to cross the threshold, "Until you graduate from the academy, please don't be a hero." The attendant closed the door, leaving Rowark alone.