Author's note: Updated 16th of July 2023

Prologue

Ordon Village.

If ever Valhansen had been looking for paradise, he would have shouted out, "By the goddesses, I've found it!"

The traveller, stepping out of the vast forest of Faron Province and into the Ordonian valley, let his gaze wander over the sturdy homes, slate rooftops, and gardens full of pumpkins. The eight little houses scattered around a burbling river of crystal water were built out of the finest wood found in the neighbouring forest, or even carved out of one of the few large sequoia trees that grew particularly high and wide within the clearing. The path leading into and around the village was nothing but a winding course of trodden dirt interspersed with wooden bridges, surrounded by tall grass billowing in the pleasant breeze.

He began to walk along that path and stopped in front of a large, wealthier looking house with a grey-blue slate roof and a long porch that guided him to a double-doored entrance. Further up the hill, he could see a gate twice his size framed by four massive beams that joined in the middle like folded hands. A proud, circular horn was displayed at the top. From beyond the gate he heard faint bleating, the wind carrying with it the smell of straw, horse, and goat. Had he been of the finer folk from Castle Town, it might have made him crinkle his nose. But the smell grounded him within the village even more so than the path that felt pleasantly doughy compared to the hard pavement of the Hyrulean capital.

The stout mayor of the little community was already clattering down the porch stairs, welcoming Valhansen with the joviality and warmth of a close family member that would have eased even the most weary—or irritable—traveller in a matter of minutes. For Mayor Bo was ever eager to hear what news and stories foreigners brought from afar and would be quick to offer a mug of honey ale and a seat by his fireplace.

After a drink and a stool to rest their aching feet, Mayor Bo would then guide his guest through the village, show them around, present his fellow residents, and fill the visitor's ears with his booming, bellied voice: "Ah, my dear fellow, how nice it is to have you with us. It's so rare that we see a new face around here. May I introduce you to Rusl, the blacksmith of our humble village, and his wife Uli. Rusl! How was the hunt? If you remember, my friend, we had that tough winter last year and game has been a bit hard to find these last few months. But the harvest promises to be good this season, so we shouldn't be in much trouble. Here you see Jaggle's watermill, where we grind our corn from the field. If you're looking for our infamous Ordon goat cheese, we should pay Jaggle's wife Pergie a visit. I dare say she did a good job with our goat milk this year. Oh, and remind me to give you a jar of Hanch's fine honey before you leave, his bees were very enthusiastic this year. His wife Sera owns the shop right here, if you're looking for food for your journey back and a little souvenir for the missus. Oh, and Fado here, he's our master goatherd…"

Mayor Bo's long and fervent discourses were renowned for their amount of detail—and length. His daughter Ilia, a joyful girl of fifteen with hair as short as a boy's, usually stepped in after a few hours of touring the small but abundant village, showing the traveller back into the mayor's house where a separate room had been furnished with spare beds. Today, however, she was, surprisingly, nowhere to be found, and Valhansen had to let Bo guide him through the village for another two hours.

Though fond of visitors and eager to trade their goods for curiosities, Ordon's people lived independently from Hyrule, the larger province to the north. And happily so. They could sustain all their needs with hunting, farming, and goat breeding.

Near the edge of the village stood a lone stable attached to a small, crooked building which belonged to Harold and Gertie. The latter was the weaver of the town in her mid-sixties, and her old, good-hearted husband Harold—being a farmer since he could walk—had over the years traded his rusty scythe with a sturdy walnut walking stick. The only four-legged farming help the village owned were the three donkeys that lived with them, their happy donkey-life filled with plough-pulling, the transporting of wheat sacks, wood, and vegetables, and loving petting from the hamlet's offspring.

There were only four children in the village. Talo the miller's son was eleven and stormy as a boy could be, and followed everywhere by his full-cheeked, six-year-old, quiet but witty brother Malo. Together, they missed no opportunity to get into trouble. Sera's and Hanch's daughter Beth, about twelve now, could always be seen hopping after them trying to keep them out of it. The fourth was shy, blonde-haired Colin, son of Rusl the blacksmith, who preferred to play by himself. A fifth child was on the way in the smith's family and was awaited in the following late spring with anticipation from the entire village.

The remaining inhabitants living their simple life as farmers were Moe and his sister Kila, son and daughter of Harold and Gertie. Both in their forties, they were the backbone of farming in Ordon, happy, hard-working siblings who did most of the labour on the large field behind the ranch. It was the main source of crops as well as hay for the donkeys which the two sowed and then harvested together each fall. The barn on the ranch, which served as stable for the goats, was also a storehouse for all the goods the assiduous farmers collected over the year. Mayor Bo's job was then to make sure each household had everything it needed, distributing the crop out to all inhabitants equally and in response to every family's needs. Since the town counted just eighteen tenants in total, there had never been any problems with cheating or burglary. The townsfolk were a vigilant, clever, trusting group of people who helped and loved each other like family.

Mayor Bo took great pride in his serene little village of Ordon.

"Your village is most certainly remarkable, and a pleasant contrast to the bustling city life I am used to, dear Mayor. The tight bond of friendship and collaboration you share is really quite inspiring. At the edge of the forest, however, I noticed something that struck me as peculiar.''

The traveller, whom Mayor Bo had led back to the front porch of his large house, scratched himself behind one of his long, pointy ears. It was this elegant pair of ears that let him stand out from the rest of the villagers, who had rounded ears. He was a Hylian, not a Human like the townsfolk, native to the lands beyond Ordon and the woods of Faron. It was a good three days' ride from the large city of Castle Town to the reclusive provinces of the south, and it was this fact that made travellers so rare in Ordon.

"At the top of the valley I passed a charming tree house that was, to my surprise, not among the other homes of your village, but backed against the forest. It made me wonder who would live this close to the wilderness when there is the security of a community nearby.''

A smile crossed Mayor Bo's lips, though it faltered with a rueful sigh. "You are right, my friend. There is someone you have yet to meet, but I have not seen him around here myself today. Oh, Rusl! Wait up, my friend. Do you have any idea where Link is?"

000