Author Note: Ah, here's the moment I've been waiting for. Now to get the friggin' disclaimer out of the way:

The Legend of Zelda belongs to Nintendo, in other words, I don't own it. I do however, own various Zelda posters, T-shirts, plushies, and other nerd-tastic merchandise, including a lolly-pop shaped like Link's head that I never ate because I thought it was too awesome, which my mom threw out after she found it in a drawer one day. I was kinda upset after that...

But anyway, please read, enjoy and review! :3 Hylian Secrets is back with a vengence!

Hylian Secrets
A Legend of Zelda Fanfiction

Chapter One
Reawakened

It was in Twilight that everything began, and in Twilight that everything ended. Yet here he remained. The gentle breeze that caressed the leaves overhead and the flicker of light through the branches would forevermore be his to behold. But, he thought, he would most miss the heat of the sun. He had long ago surrendered the ability to feel and touch. It was a small price to pay, and not nearly what he deserved.

A pale body embalmed in dark robes lay forgotten in the center of the glade. Through the years, the plants had ensconced it, cradled it, though mysteriously the flesh had not rotted away.

Perhaps it was his curse, his punishment. He was bound to that never-rotting corpse, never allowed to stray far from it or to simply fade away.

But why would he? This must be the Heaven that his people had spoken of: a place of balance, of Light and Darkness. How could he have ever wanted to destroy it?

Power. That was how. He had drank too deeply into the empty promises of others, becoming drunk with ambition and pride. It had never been his Power. All he had ever been was a mere puppet. But he had become addicted to what his puppeteer supplied. And as with all addictions, only too late did he realize how everything was crumbling around him.

He had come to regret the things that he had done under the influence of Power. The people he had hurt. Though he had chosen to relinquish this Power of his own free will, he felt that it had not been enough to atone for his sins. Perhaps that is what kept him bound to this world, unable to move into the next.

But what could he do? He was captive in this glade, unchanging for all eternity. Or so he had thought.

In the fifth year of what he had come to regard as his 'exile' something did indeed change. Just has he was bound to the corpse in the center of the glade, he was bound to the glade itself. A shudder ran through him. He could sense the ripples of intruders in his world as if each footstep were a stone thrown into a calm pond.

Apprehension gripped him, though he did not know why. It was not long before two figures, a man and a woman, infiltrated the glade. The man, tall and strong, led the way, hacking through the foliage with a curved blade. The woman strode forward, a strange gleam in her eye as she spotted the dark mass in the clearing's center.

"There it is."

The woman started forward, and the resident Spirit's apprehension turned into panic. Something was horribly wrong with this woman. A black aura enveloped her, sending chills through him. He could sense a hunger, a lust for power in this aura, different but disturbingly similar to the affliction he had rid himself of long ago. He did not want that woman anywhere near his body.

But he could do nothing to stop her.

She approached the corpse and fell to her knees. A low chuckle escaped from her throat before she said, "Master… we've found your new body."

With a choked cry, she collapsed on all fours. What looked like painful convulsions wracked her body, but she fought the urge to scream. The man who had come with her made no move to give aid.

After several agonizing seconds she succumbed to the pain, but what escaped her lips was not a cry, but a sickly orb of green flame. Having expelled this, she collapsed into the dirt, gasping for air.

The Spirit watched, horror-stricken, as the orb of fire surged toward his corpse and stole its way into what had once been his mouth. What followed was a sudden and excruciating pain, the likes of which he had never felt before. It felt as though his body were being cored out, his entrails carved away, to make room for something new. A new presence. A new host.

With one final cut, his connection with his body was severed. It was no longer his.

Still bound to the earth around him, the Spirit struggled to recover. When sight returned to him, he saw that the black aura no longer surrounded the woman, but now clung to the corpse. He watched as the pale, dead fingers began to twitch, and the head begin to rouse, as if coming out of a long sleep.

And finally, the body, his body, slowly pushed itself to its feet of its own will.

The man and the woman dipped into low genuflections before it. "Master," they said together.

At first, the usurper of his body said nothing. He raised an arm, then the other, examining them. The tattered rags dripped from his frame, but he seemed not to care. A disturbingly wide grin creased his face as he continued to inspect what he had just stolen. He gave a quiet laugh before addressing his followers. "Come!" He said in a voice that was his but not his. "We've much work to do."

He wore the same smug smile as he raised his right hand and appraised it with half-lidded eyes. On the back was a black sigil: three triangles, and the top portion once again began to glow with a golden light.

The evening sun peeked though the many trees of Faron Woods, casting a dappled pattern on the forest floor. Birds had ceased their singing for the day, returning to their nests. The world had become quiet, waiting for nightfall. The clash of metal shattered the silence.

Link clutched the hilt of the Ordon sword, watching his opponent's moves with a trained eye. His instincts as a swordsman told him to charge in and deliver the final blow. Instead, he held his blade at bay. That would not be necessary here.

Before stood Colin, holding his own smaller version of the Ordon sword.

Sweat had gathered on the novice swordsman's brow. He held his blade in both hands, his knuckles turning white. Link slowly advanced and Colin backed away. A branch snapped under his feet and his eyes flashed to the source. Link took this time to swipe at Colin's sword and knocked him off balance. The younger swordsman hastily renewed his grip, having almost dropped his blade.

"Rule number one," Rusl called from where he was seated on a log near the edge of the clearing, "always keep your eyes on your opponent."

"I know, I know!" Colin snapped, refocusing on Link. He held his sword at an angle and stepped back with his left foot, preparing to take another blow. He made no move to advance.

"You're always on defense," Rusl chided. "Try offense."

Casting a brief surly look to his father, Colin cautiously advanced while Link waited. The uncertainty in Colin's eyes grew as the space between them closed. He stopped, and the few charged moments in which a swordsman tries to predict his opponent's intent followed. To strike or not to strike.

Link was fully intent on letting Colin make the first move but the boy stood still, even after the instant when a swordsman's instinct would tell him to strike. Several seconds passed.

"…Well, get on with it!"

Embarrassed by his father's comment, Colin was spurred to action, swinging an clumsy horizontal slash, merely glancing off Link's already positioned blade.

Discouraged, there was a beat of inaction from Colin, and Link made a feint with his feet in order to get a response. Colin hastily brought up his sword to block the nonexistent strike.

"Rule number two!" Rusl called out once again. Irritation flashed in Colin's eyes where his father could not see. "Never give your opponent time to act."

"I know that!" Colin hissed.

"Then act like it."

That put it over, and Colin threw down the sword and sent it spinning across the dusty earth. "I've had enough of this! I forfeit!"

Link straightened his stance and let his arm fall to his side. He'd seen this coming.

"Forfeit?" Rusl stood. "Colin, you-"

"Look, Dad, I've been doing this for five years! And you still have to call out the basics in the middle of a spar! I'm no good at this, and its pretty obvious I'm not gonna get any better." He gave a tense sigh. "This is stupid. That hero stuff I managed to pull off all those years ago was a fluke."

Link stayed silent; he had words in mind, but he knew this was something better left between father and son.

Rusl gave a sigh of his own, but not the good-natured kind a father would give when his son was exaggerating. This was the kind filled with exasperation for having to deal with his teenage son's negative attitude on too many an occasion.

Colin took note of the difference and his expression grew harder, even as his father came to kneel beside him and placed his hand on his shoulder. This gesture was barely tolerated.

"Colin," his father began. "True strength isn't measured in physical prowess or skill. It is measured in devotion and perseverance. You know this already; you've discovered it for yourself."

Colin looked away. "Just another lesson that you've have to repeat to me."

Rusl paused, then chose to ignore this. "You may not be a skilled swordsman now, but how will you ever know what you can become if you quit?"

Colin took a deep breath and shrugged off his father's hand. "Save your virtue talk for some other time. I'm going home." Turning, he moodily exited the clearing, kicking the pommel of his dropped sword when he passed it. "G'bye, Link."

"Colin!" Rusl's voice fell on deaf ears. He turned to Link and gave another exasperated sigh. "I just don't understand it. He's like a completely different person."

"He's a teenager now," Link pointed out. "That's normal."

"You were never like this."

"Well, I wasn't normal."

Rusl's lip quirked. He lifted his head and took note of the orange sky above the canopy. "He had the right idea, I suppose. It is getting late." He retrieved Colin's sword. "Shall we finish this up?"

Link nodded and took up his own sword.

Rusl looked down at the blade in his grip, then to Link standing opposite him. A pang of nostalgia washed over his face. "I miss those days…"

Link waited as Rusl limped across the clearing, favoring his right leg.

When Rusl took up his position next to him, Link asked, "Which one?"

"Oh, let's do Kai-Pas. I'm not feeling very agile today."

"Kai-Pas," Link repeated. Both he and Rusl crossed their sword arms over their opposite shoulders, their unused arms hovering horizontally over their abdomens. "Ready?"

The two of them started a series of flowing poses that made up one of the many sword forms that Rusl had used to teach Link the art of swordplay. He had said that these forms were used by the Royal Knights of an era gone by in order to keep one's body disciplined and one's wits sharp.

"So," Rusl said as they swept into the Sun-Catcher's pose, his lips turned up in a playful smirk. "Will you be experiencing the 'joys of parenthood' for yourself anytime soon?"

"Eh?" Flustered, Link fell out of time.

Rusl took note of his reddened face and laughed out loud. "A touchy subject?"

Link regained his composure. "I don't know," he said indecisively. "Ilia and I haven't really talked about it."

"Oh come now, Link. You two've been married for almost three years! It's about time you started a family of your own. 'Uncle Rusl' needs little ones to spoil."

"Are you sure we shouldn't call you 'Grandpa Rusl?'" Link teased.

"Hey! I may have practically raised you but the fact is I'm not that much older than you!"

Link grinned, rolling his eyes. "Whatever you say."

The older swordsman chose to let the younger one's sarcasm slide. They took the Mantis pose, Rusl choosing to keep both of his feet on the ground.

"Has your leg been bothering you more, recently?" Link asked, noticing the way Rusl gingerly shifted his weight. Even after the incident, though they could no longer spar as equals, Rusl insisted on going through battle forms with him every evening. Often he would not be so precise in his footwork, but he managed. Tonight though, he was taking it easier than usual.

He quickly dismissed the question. "Oh don't worry about it. It's nothing a little willow bark tea can't cure."

His leg had always been a sore subject for Rusl.

"And, done." Rusl rose from the pose and took a deep breath. "I feel much better now. Thank you."

"Good for the old bones, isn't it?" Link's face held a wicked smirk.

Rusl chuckled darkly, narrowing his eyes. "They're not that old."

The bowed to each other, the traditional way of ending a form, still wearing their teasing expressions.

"Daddy!" Just then, a little blonde girl entered the clearing. She barreled across the clearing and fell upon his right leg. He winced, and stepped back to stable himself.

"Careful, Serita!" Uli appeared, hastening to catch up with the little girl.

"No. I'm fine," Rusl insisted. Sweeping his daughter up he planted a kiss on her forehead. "Hello, sweetie." He leaned over and gave his wife a kiss. "Hello, darling."

Serita giggled.

"We just came to tell you that dinner is ready," Uli told him.

Link took in the whole scene with an unconscious smile on his face.

"All right." Rusl looked back to Link. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

Link roused himself from his stupor. "Yeah." He watched them leave the clearing, then gathered up the bundles of firewood he'd collected earlier and left.

Tossing the bundles in a pile next to his house, he crossed over to the small niche where Epona stood. She contentedly nibbled on the grass at her feet; her tack lay on the post beside her, no doubt Ilia had done this in an effort to make the horse more comfortable. Epona whinnied a greeting as her rider approached.

"Hey girl." Link brushed back her forelock and stroked the small white pattern on her forehead. "Have a nice day?"

She snorted.

"Yeah, I know. The goats were a real handful today." He fingered her velvety ears and chuckled. "Turning into Ilia, aren't I?" Epona nudged his shoulder in response.

She looked past Link and bobbed her head, noticing a new arrival. Link turned. "Colin?"

The boy stood a few paces back, staring at the ground. "Hi, Link."

"Isn't it dinner time at your house?"

"I'm not very hungry." Colin looked up and met Epona's eyes. "Say, Link. I was wondering. If its not too much trouble…. Could I maybe, ride Epona around for a bit?"

Link smiled. He helped the boy onto the horse's bare back and led Epona at a leisurely pace around the clearing. He saw the peaceful look on Colin's face when he closed his eyes and rested his head against Epona's neck. Though he regarded swordplay as a skill he would never acquire, Colin loved riding. The gentle rhythm of the horses stride; he imagined it was like the waves of the ocean.

Several minutes passed, then Link helped him off. He thanked him and left, looking content.

Link led Epona back to her niche. He felt a presence behind him, and two arms gently slipped over his shoulders. "That was very sweet of you, you know," a voice whispered into his ear. "You'll make a good father one day."

Link looked over his shoulder and saw Ilia smiling behind him. "You think?" he asked.

"Mmm." She pretended to reconsider her observation. "Maybe," she teased, pecking him on the forehead.

"How long were you standing there?"

"Awhile," Ilia replied. "And what's this about you turning into me?" she asked with mock scorn.

Link smiled and followed his wife into their house.

The air was filled with a wonderful aroma; Link eyed the pot set over flame.

"It's almost ready," Ilia told him, taking up a spoon and stirring the pot's contents.

Link took a seat at the table, smiling as he reclined. "Good. I've been waiting for dinner all day. I am famished."

To this she responded, "Feet off."

Link groaned and swung his feet down onto the floor. She didn't even have to look.

"Honestly Link, do you think we live in a barn? We eat off that table. I even made your favorite." She drew up a spoonful to test. Dissatisfied, she took down several spices from the shelves and added, "Though it probably isn't as good as the pumpkin soup you make."

Link smirked, folding his arms behind his neck. "You're right, it probably isn't."

She looked up sharply at him, only her smile betraying that she was playing along. She turned back to the soup. "A letter came for you today, by the way."

"Oh?" Link noticed the white envelope that lay on the table and reached for it. His eyebrows raised when he saw the thick disc of crimson wax emblazoned with the image of a bird and the Triforce stamped into it. "The Hyrulian Royal Seal?" he murmured. Slowly, he slid his finger under the lip and took up the letter.

Her Royal Highness, Queen Zelda Aurelia Hyrule XIII, Regent of Zora's Domain and Sworn Sister of Goron Chieftains, Baroness of Snowpeak and Lady of Light, requests the presence of Sir Link of Ordon, Knight of Hyrule and Hero of Light at Hyrule Castle on the first of the month. You are advised to be prepared to travel.

Signed, Tormel, Head of Queen's Entourage

"I didn't know she had so many titles," Link said quietly.

Ilia had been reading over his shoulder. "Well that's rude," she huffed. "The first of the month is tomorrow. And what does it mean 'be prepared to travel.'"

Link smiled. He thought it was cute the way she got upset. "Don't worry. I'll be back before you know it."

Ilia bit her lip. She turned away and retreated to the kitchen. "The soup is ready."

The next morning, Link prepared for his trip to Castle Town. He didn't know what kind of request Zelda was going to make of him, so he packed most of his equipment, prepared for anything.

After Link had returned from his journey five years ago, he had made an effort to find everyday functions for the tools he'd acquired along the way; most of them falling into disuse. He'd packed them up in a chest in the basement and there they lay forgotten. He felt a flutter of nostalgia when he opened that chest for the first time in several years.

He found his old Hero's Tunic. Mostly out of curiosity, he tried it on to see if it would still fit. It did, and despite the small scorch marks on the sleeve, earned in the Goron Mines, he decided to wear it for his trip into Hyrule.

He made his way outside, the still glade shadowy in the dawn light. He greeted Epona then went about putting on her tack and packing his saddle bags.

Ilia silently crept up behind him, her brow knit with distress. "Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?"

Link turned, a small smile on his face, "I knew you wouldn't let me."

She threw her arms around him and they embraced. Then she stood back, her cheek having come in contact with something rough. "Oh," she murmured. "You're wearing it." Her fingers traced over the horse-call charm she had made him years before.

She looked up at him, green eyes still insistent that he not go. She was just about to voice her concerns when Link kissed her. "I love you," he told her, "and there's nothing that could happen that will change that." He parted their embrace and climbed into the saddle.

"I love you too," she said. "Stay safe."

And with that, Link kicked Epona into a gallop, riding past Ordona Spring, past Faron Woods and into Hyrule Field, not knowing what the future would bring him.

Author Note: For those of you unaware of the history of this fic, its actually four years old. Yep, it was four year ago to the day that I posted the original version of this story on fanfiction. I was young and stupid, didn't know what I was doing, and the fic was a bit of a mess. Three years go by, the updates grind to a halt, but I had this motto going "I will not abandone this story."

So then I just get fed up with it and decide to RESTART the whole fic. Mmhmm. This allows me to get a fresh beginning, rework the details, smooth out the bumps. I've been hard at work at it since the begining of the year.

If anyone is actually bothering to read thismassive wall of text, then I may as well tell you that the old Hylian Secrets is gone, and the new story is right where the old story was, so all my old watchers still have it watched, (that wasn't a shameless ploy, at all!)

To all my old readers: (if you're actually still reading) THANK YOU! for giving the rewrite a shot. I aim to please. And to everyone, I hope this first chapter interested you enough that you'll take the time to click that "Next Chapter" and read on. ...When the next chapter is actually up that is.