A/N: First of all, huge apology for the very long wait, but thanks to those of you who stuck around! I've finally finished a massive chunk of it, and I hope you enjoy. c:

"Play the whistle," Daegal asked quietly. The soft pleading in his voice, the desperation for the shrill music caused a smile to crash upon Link's face.

He retrieved the short tin whistle from a pocket in his tunic. The edges of the holes were already worn from his fingertips, since he played it so often. They were perfectly spaced; made especially for his hands. Daegal had crafted it carefully and precisely under the instruction of his father, Nichol.

Link brought the frail instrument up to his lips, which parted slightly, and he felt Daegal sit up a little straighter and draw in his breath with excitement.

Except for the shrill but hollow music, the forest was quiet. Every so often, there would be a bird or some other animal scurrying about, creating a susurrus of crackling amongst the tall grasses. The wind would make the leaves on the trees sway and dance to Link's music.

Daegal closed his eyes and a smile broke across his tan face. His tawny red hair flitted about in the breeze, tickling his nose and cheeks, as he sat with his face pointed up towards the sky. Link eyed him carefully as to not disturb his peaceful state, and the music kept going. Some melodies were long, droning on for several seconds, and some were short, resembling the sound of a bird chirping. No matter what Link played, he could never get a note wrong. There was magic in his fingers, Daegal said to himself later, a magic that spread until it covered every inch of his body. He was sure of it.

Link ended his song on a low note and let the sound fade away slowly. Carefully, he tucked the whistle back into his pocket and waited for Daegal to return to earth.

Daegal's eyelids opened, revealing eyes that were brown, but as golden as the sun if you looked at them the right way. Somehow, Link was always able to find the correct angle. They shone as if sprinkled with gold dust. Link's own were a musty gray, and looked as if it were always about to rain inside them.

The forest was quiet again. Neither boy spoke, mostly because Daegal didn't enjoy it very much. What was the use in words when silence could be so much more meaningful?

Link shattered the silence first. "I do okay?"

"Yes," replied Daegal, his voice slightly monotone, but the vigorous nodding of his head showed his enthusiasm. His red hair was tossed from side to side, and his gold ear studs clinked.

"I'm glad," said Link, using few words as to not make Daegal feel uncomfortable.

Link wished Daegal would meet his gaze, but his eyes were cast downwards, like they always were. Daegal had a lot of quirks Link sometimes wished he could tweak; he was by no means perfect. Always looking away as if embarrassed, never speaking more than a few words at a time, and always having a sense of longing to be somewhere else. Daegal was never always "there," and there was a valid reason for that, but Link had gotten used to it by now. There were just some times when he ached to have a serious conversation with his closest friend without being the one doing all the talking. Daegal wouldn't start a conversation with someone willingly, it frightened him. Though this was all what made Daegal himself, and Link loved it always.

Daegal's downcast eyes were fixed upon a small colorful bug crawling across a thick blade of grass. His fiery red lion's mane fell onto his face, but he didn't brush it away. Sometimes when that happened, he would shake it, and the strands of matted hair would fan in all directions, giving him a crazed but majestic look. The beetle lifted its wings and buzzed away, and Daegal held it in his gaze until it disappeared into the summer air. Link reached over and plucked the blade of grass, folded it in two between his thumbs, which he pressed tightly together at the carpals, and blew into the grass, creating an obnoxious squealing buzz, like a noisemaker at a party. Quick, hysterical bouts of laughter came from his friend, who grabbed handfuls of grass from the forest floor. He tried to copy Link, but his hands were too large and clumsy to hold a single piece of grass between them. Link, whose own hands were delicate, reached over to adjust Daegal's grip on the blade. Daegal blew, sounding in a weak, shrill noise. He smiled anyway.

"You can whistle, too," remarked Link. Though he didn't show it, Link knew that Daegal was filled with a large happiness. It saddened him to interrupt it. "What do you say we head back?" he asked.

Daegal drooped his head, his gold eyes darkening with disappointment. "Athol will worry," he agreed, standing up. He held out a hand for Link to take, and he did, hoisting himself up. Link was taller than Daegal, thinner and more muscular. Though Daegal was smaller, he seemed to take up more space, but that was probably because of his hair. He didn't fasten his tunic very tightly, so the fabric was always billowing around him, rippling in the wind.

00000

Athol, with all her fourteen years, stood perhaps prouder than either of the two boys who were retreating from the woods. She had the same wildly colored hair as her brother, though it was brushed and tamed and twisted into two fiery braids.

She stood by the fencepost that marked the entrance to the forest (it was neither a warning nor a welcome, just an appreciated reminder that the woods was very much unlike their village of Hillwind), her hands were on her hips and her sharp chin protruded as she searched with keen eyes for Link and her brother.

At last, she spotted two figures, one walking with sure strides and the other bounding towards her like an animal. He nearly tripped over various objects; roots, weeds, rocks, his own feet.

"Daegal!" she called, before he got too close. Daegal skidded to a stop in front of her, and giggled at his clumsy landing. Link followed close behind him.

"Where were you?" Athol asked patronizingly, but with a tone of worry to her voice.

"Woods!" Daegal answered simply, basking on the ground at his sister's feet.

"I know, but you can't disappear like that. Father's been looking everywhere for you."

Daegal refused to meet her glance, though he sat up a little bit more, and his face drooped in shame.

"What do you say?" pressed Athol.

"Sorry," whispered Daegal.

"Actually," announced Link, stepping in and placing a reassuring hand on Daegal's broad shoulder. "I took him to the woods. I thought he'd like the quiet."

Athol's head snapped in Link's direction, but her face was softer now. "Daegal's a handful. You shouldn't take the blame, it's all right. I can get him home quickly."

"I can probably get him home quicker," Link retorted.

"It's okay, Link," said Athol, frantically trying to repress Link's annoyance. "As far as anyone knows, you had nothing to do with it."

"I'm not a handful," said Daegal suddenly, beginning to register their conversation.

The two standing children ignored him. "You don't have to blame anyone, definitely not Daegal," Link was saying. He tried desperately to overshadow Athol's prideful stance, but it wasn't really working. She stared him down, trying to look kind and just seeming overall revering to Link's prominently brave facial features and rainy eyes. He needed to shake her away.

"Stand up," he said to Daegal, without too much force in his tone. His friend pulled himself up and shielded his face from Athol's gaze.

"I'm not a handful," he whispered to Link.

"You're not," Link replied.

The heart of Hillwind stood sleepily down a long winding path that was shrouded mostly by trees. The boys left Athol standing by the fencepost, with her arms crossed resentfully to her chest. Overhead, the dusky sky was being set ablaze with a fiery sunset. The last of the songbirds retreated to their nests, whistling as they went. Daegal whistled back at them.

Hillwind was starting to smell like autumn. The cairn-like houses would soon begin to glow like stone lanterns, with warmth and light filtering into the chilly air. Link pressed his own shoulder closer to Daegal's after shivering at the thought of the cold months ahead.

A few slow strides later, Link could hear Athol rush after them. He gently urged Daegal to walk faster, but she caught up with them quickly.

"It's cold," she huffed, rubbing her upper arms with her thin fingers.

"Not very," replied Link. He pressed on, not looking back at her.

"Well, it'll snow soon," Athol continued. "It'll get colder."

The trees were thinning out, giving way to a hilltop view of their cozy town. Lights were already starting to shine in the windows.

"Almost there," Link said to Daegal. His friend rushed ahead of them, eager to return home, leaving Link and Athol to walk awkwardly side-by-side.

"Of course, I'm not mad at him," Athol promised softly. "And I trust you to look after him. I just hate seeing him stray. Even the safest of places can be dangerous to him."

"I know," replied Link. "I was keeping an eye on him."

"I know."

The sandy pathway soon gave way to the soft grass of Hillwind, tickling their bare feet. The smell of ovens filled with food welcomed them. Link and Athol walked in synchrony to the crickets that sang and peeped in the grass, finally catching up to Daegal.

The buildings in Hillwind-houses, stores and libraries-were all strung together in a rocky circle, resembling a sort of Stonehenge. The doorways all faced to the center of the circle. The first thing anyone saw when they stepped out of their house in the morning was the smiling face of a neighbor or a laughing child.

The sky was turning a dusty pink as Link and Daegal were reunited.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Link said softly, tugging on a wisp of Daegal's hair. He hugged Link in reply; it was more assertive than tender, but nice all the same. Athol scoffed as she led Daegal away to their waiting father.

Link watched them leave, trying to shoot a resentful look at Athol and a kind one at Daegal at the same time.

His own residence, which he shared with the quiet, unattentive Jørn, was located on the opposite end of the village. It was the smallest house, built originally for only one person. There were no lights on, which could've meant Jørn was sleeping or collecting something to eat, and Link desperately hoped it was the latter. He was starving.

00000

As Link waited for the food to be brought home, he set the table, two small spots. Two chipped plates crafted from fine china from one of the Eldin Provinces, probably Kakariko. Two wooden cups filled with the second-purest water in all of Hyrule. Four utensils, made from the glassy rocks in the Goron mines, though they were less than the perfect ones that were sold to the royal families of Castle Town.

The house was dimly lit, since the lanterns in Jørn's study corner had all been extinguished. Papers, dried pens, whittling tools, and other odd-shaped bibelots were stashed on top of his desk and spilling onto the seat of his chair. The only lights came from the hanging lamp above the dining table and the warm glow of the porch light that seeped in from the front window. The space was small and narrow, with beds on the second floor, which could be reached by a thin staircase that wound its way up the wall.

Link crossed the room to light a fire in the tiny hearth, hoping that Jørn would be home soon. There were a great many things that could be keeping him, the most probable of which would be falling into the lake. He wondered if perhaps he should go out and look for him, and was going to, when he heard a loud banging on the door. Link's spirits lifted, but then realized that Jørn wouldn't have knocked.

He advanced curiously to the door and opened it, not knowing what to expect.

Athol stood there, arms crossed, looking incredibly mad at him.

"I'm not mad!" she exclaimed when Link tried to flee from the doorway and seek refuge in a further part of the room. "I just wanted to stop by."

"Why?" Link asked suspiciously. He narrowed his eyes and picked up a whittling tool that he had accidentally knocked off a table in his attempted escape. He set it back on the table with force and didn't look back to see Athol or welcome her inside. She stepped into the room anyway.

"You seem to have a lot of time on your hands."

"I work," replied Link. "You know that. I can't take you on a date."

Athol flushed. "That is not what I-"

"Yeah, come on, Athol, it is."

"And what's so wrong with that?"

Link turned on his heels, grasped her upper arms, and led her backwards towards the door, back into the cool night air from whence she came. "I don't like you."

"Well, I don't see how you could know that; you barely talk to me." She dug her feet into the floor.

"You just won't take no for an answer, will you?"

Athol tried to squirm from his grip. Rage filled her eyes.

Only it wasn't rage, Link saw when he looked closely. It was admiration, well-masked. When he noticed the brimming tears, he loosened his dominant grip on her arms in spite of himself, in a need to suppress them. Link wanted to apologize, but the silence was so fragile it would shatter if he spoke.

He didn't know what to do; give her a hug, or a stroke of the hair, or a very half-hearted kiss on the forehead, just so she would get the hell out of his house.

When the first tear fell, her eyes were still locked with his, gold on silver. Link lifted a gentle finger and swept it away, the salty liquid mixing with the dust on his finger. More tears came after, and Link kissed them before they could reach Athol's chin, all the while abusing himself for doing it. The girl underneath his lips was growing more tortured by the second.

"Forget it," she cried, throwing his hands off of her. "Leave me alone."

She turned abruptly, almost bumping into the door that was opening with Jørn behind it, and ran out into the night.

For good measure, Link threw his weight against the door once a confused Jørn found his way inside.

The guilty pounding of his heart compelled him to go after her and apologize, but she would probably injure him this time, and chasing a fuming girl around Hillwind was the last thing he wanted to do when his housemate had just brought to the table a fresh Tetran trout.

"Get used to it," was Jørn's only sad response.

"And where were you?" Link asked exasperatedly. He jumped to his feet and set out a pan for the trout, wanting to speed up the cooking of dinner so he could eat and go to sleep.

"Visiting Miri, just for a bit."

"So you do admit she's your daughter?" Link asked with a cruel grin.

"I can't admit what I don't know," Jørn replied, looking rather mortified. He focused on the trimming of the fish, peeling the skin and slicing the bone away.

"Come on, Jørn. It's not like anyone else would bed Liliah."

Jørn peered up from his work to find Link leaning on the table, arms crossed.

"What do you mean?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, she hasn't exactly got much going for her-"

"Then you obviously haven't looked at her the right way," Jørn retorted, then realized what he had said might've been mistaken for a confession. "I've met lots of exotic girls. Why would I bed Liliah?"

"Ever meet any exotic guys?"

Jørn scoffed and returned to the dinner preparations. He gathered up the pieces of skin, bone, and extras and placed them in a bucket to become compost. "Get me the butter," he said to Link.

"If you're not Miri's father, why do you visit her all the time?" he asked, handing the glass butter dish (made in Kakariko) over to Jørn. He basted the fish with it and put the whole thing into the pan that Link had retrieved, then reached up to the ceiling where laden bouquets of herbs hung. He grabbed a small handful of rosemary, crushed it in his palms, and sprinkled it over the trout.

"Put it in for me," he instructed.

"Why do you do it?" Link asked, taking the pan but not budging.

Since Link had turned sixteen, Jørn no longer felt like he was the adult in the house. Six years wasn't so large of an age difference, making Link seem a lot older and wiser than he really was.

"She's dark, like you. She looks like she came directly from Alfos."

Jørn tried to ignore his tar-colored hair and empty brown eyes. "Liliah's family is Sarian," he said.

"And they're blond," added Link with an excited smile. "I think you're the culprit. Only an Alf could have done this." He slid the pan onto the stove above the fire he had previously made.

Within minutes, the entire house was filled with a warm sizzling and a fragrant buttery smell. As the fish fried on the pan, Link sat down across from Jørn.

"So, tell me about those exotic girls," he prompted.

Jørn smiled knowingly and shook his head. "Not tonight," he laughed. "But I can tell you about the Gorons."

"What else is there to know about them besides the fact that they're voracious piles of rock?"

"Not much," admitted Jørn. "They are voracious and they are literally piles of rock. But that's really all anyone else bothers to learn about them. They take on a human-sort-of-shape, with rocky shells on their back and volcanic pipes on the top of their head. When they get particularly angry, steam billows out of the pipes and they look like they're about to erupt. They have ancient carvings all over their coarse skin, and their eyes in contrast are like gemstones."

"They can turn into boulders, can't they?" Link asked curiously, suddenly getting up from his seat to remove the crackling fish from the stove.

"Not exactly," said Jørn as Link placed the pan on the table. "They compact themselves up into a ball of stone, then tumble down the Eldin Volcano making a ferocious noise. It's how they get rid of enemies, they just trample them."

Link served Jørn some trout from their own Tetran Lake, coated generously with crispy herbs and melted butter. "Have you had any run-ins with them before?"

"Are you kidding? I've wrestled with one."

Link incredulously eyed Jørn's thin arms and uneven stature.

"I was wearing magic armor," he elaborated. "To make it more of a contest."

"So I'm assuming you won?" Link asked expectantly.

Jørn smiled softly. "You should see the Gorons someday," he said. "You could probably take them on your own, you wouldn't need magic armor."

"But did you win?"

"I got away with my life, anyway," Jørn replied. "And that fork you're eating with. And. . ." He left his chair and went to rummage for something in his desk drawer. Link heard bits of mumblings; ". . .knew I left it in here somewhere. . ." When Jørn returned, he held a glimmering object in his hand. He placed it on the table between them. "I got this."

Link picked up the object to observe it. It was irregularly shaped, with extremely sharp edges, and black as the night, vitreous as a still lake.

"Is this from the volcano?" he asked.

Jørn nodded. "Eldin obsidian. They used to use it for money, before the royalties at Hyrule enforced the use of rupees. Now it's essentially useless. It's just a rock."

Link set it back on the table. "You should give it to Liliah," he said dryly.

"Why would she want a rock?"

"It's pretty. And in some cultures, giving someone a rock is considered a marriage proposal," Link jested. He picked up his empty plate, gathered Jørn's, and set it on the counter, saving the washing for the next day.

"Go to sleep," Jørn chided.

"See you in the morning," said Link, his cruel smile returning.

00000

When he woke, the lazy sun was washing the walls of the bedroom. The light stung his sleepy eyes. He blinked, yawned, and ran a hand through his disheveled sandy hair, shaking out the tangles. Jørn's bed was empty, but the sheets were tousled.

Link dragged himself from the bedclothes and got dressed. He reluctantly pulled on a warmer tunic, instead of the one he was used to wearing in hot weather. The air was growing chilly in the morning, promising a long, cold winter that Link was not looking forward to. Daylight was vanishing quickly, as was time spent with Daegal in the woods on summer evenings.

Once dressed, Link headed downstairs.

"Jørn?" he called softly, ducking his head under the stairs to see if he was sitting at his desk. It was vacant, and no other answer came. "Jørn, I hope you washed your own dish-"

Link glanced over at the counter. The dishes had been done. He smiled a bit with satisfaction, then went back to his search.

"Where the hell are you?" Link mumbled to himself. He examined the dining table, and found that the Eldin obsidian was no longer there.

He felt a sensation of success.

The cold air Link felt when he opened the door almost discouraged him from venturing out, but he pressed on. The gentle wind smelled like crisp firewood and soil. The remnants of the town's breakfast filtered through everyone's windows, filling Link's nose with scents of fruit and bread. He basked in the smells and sunlight as he began the pleasant walk to Daegal's house.

Though the niceness of the morning was somewhat dampened by the approaching event of Link's apology to Athol. It nagged at his chest and made his hand burn where he had touched her face, creating a mix of anger and nausea in the pit of his stomach.

He heard happy shouts of the children, trying to hold onto the last bits of warmth and summer before it diminished completely. Saundra, the mayor's small daughter, rushed past him, almost knocking him over. Soon after, Link saw that she was being chased; the twins, Calum and Carson, two boys with shocks of blond hair, were gaining on her.

"Sorry!" Carson called as he skidded past at his brother's heels. He turned for a second, facing Link. "Jørn's at our house!"

Link smiled at Liliah's brother. "What's he doing there?" he asked, but Carson was already speeding away. A shriek came from Saundra, filled with terror and delight.

He wandered around the town, passing by each stone building. They all looked alike, except for size. Some were larger in order to accommodate large families. Daegal's was moderately sized, fitting himself, Athol, and their father.

Link knocked on the wooden door and waited a reply. It was always unpredictable who would answer the door, though it wasn't typically Daegal, who let anxiety get the best of him. Link had only two choices, and he wished with every bit of energy that it would be Nichol instead of Athol.

The girl with bushy red braids answered. She was about to greet him, when she narrowed her eyes and realized she was still angry.

"What?" she interrogated with no trace of friendliness.

"Is Daegal here?" Link asked, deflecting her pointedness.

"He's asleep."

"I'm not!" called an enthusiastic voice from inside.

Link raised his eyebrows at Athol. "Well, he appears to be very much awake."

Daegal's head appeared above Athol's shoulder, though he didn't meet Link's eyes. "I want to go," he said to Athol, almost as if asking permission.

She was defeated, but she didn't back down. "You're going into the woods again?"

"Probably," replied Link, taking Daegal's hand and leading him past Athol, who was partially blocking the doorway. "If that's all right with you."

Athol scowled at the two of them. "Have fun," she said sourly.

She shut the door, and Link and Daegal were left alone. Link realized that Daegal's easeful hand was still enclosed in his, but his friend didn't seem to notice or mind. He pulled Link along, keeping his gaze ahead and not looking back at him.

They ran across Hillwind's lush fields as Daegal sped up. The grass at their feet was still soft and green. A late summer wind blew over their faces, tossing their hair around. Daegal's red tresses danced.

At the tree-tunneled pathway, they slowed down and began to walk at a normal pace. Link's hand was growing sweaty, but Daegal didn't let go. He held fast like a child afraid of getting lost.

The leaves on the trees cast cool shadows upon their clothes, shading them from the bright morning sun.

"I like it," murmured Daegal. "When you take me."

Link's surprise caused him to pivot his head in Daegal's direction. It was not unheard of, but rare, when Daegal would start a conversation all on his own.

"We can go every day," Link offered, trying to preserve the exchange. "It'll get cold, but we can still go. You can wear a blanket and I'll bring tea and we can be warm."

Daegal's wide mouth twitched, first at the corners, then evolved into an expansive smile.

The dirt road they were walking on led them to the fencepost at the edge of Faron Woods at the top of the hill overlooking Hillwind. The houses now looked like small clusters of rock, set in a decorative circle.

"Let's. . .not bring Athol," Daegal proposed as they started into the cool shade of the woods.

"We'll leave her at home," said Link.

The boys returned to their usual spot, on top of a moss-covered boulder in the middle of a quiet clearing. The rock sat underneath warm rays of sun that stretched through the tops of the trees, welcoming them.

"She's mad at me," Daegal said when he reached the boulder. "She hates me."

"She loves you," answered Link, sitting down beside him. "That's just it. She only seems mad because she's worried, but she could never hate you. Nobody could."

Daegal's golden, downcast eyes darkened to a murky bronze as he lowered his head. "Sometimes," he began, but shook his head as if he couldn't find the right words. "I just. . .sometimes. . ."

Link wasn't sure how to comfort Daegal without frightening him. He performed his uniform act of lightly tugging on a piece of Daegal's vibrant hair. His friend looked up at him; he looked in his eyes. The action was so rare and fleeting that it caused Link to catch his breath in his throat. The gold was back.

Just sometimes. . .I hate me."

In a slightly awkward but curious movement, Daegal's lips hovered to Link's jawline, and stayed there for a few seconds. Link felt a rush of unexpected happiness but confusion at what was happening. He soon found his hand ruffling Daegal's hair with shaking fingers. When Daegal pulled away, he maintained eye contact with Link.

Marvelling at his bravery, Link cupped the sides of Daegal's face and redirected the kiss, this time full on the mouth. He didn't pull away or make any sort of confused protest. The two of them let the sounds of the forest disappear. The colors around them became blurry but magnified. A hot pool of what felt like magma intruded Link's lower belly, which reduced his breathing to short bursts.

Each boy became lightheaded within minutes. Link's mind was in a whirl, but he believed nothing could make it more intense and happy. A smile was frozen on Daegal's face, not a full grin, but a satisfied curve, like he was applauding his own courage.

"Again," he said, without any indication that it was a question.

00000

They left the rock when the wind started to blow. Gray clouds cushioned the sun, so the clearing in which they sat was cast in a dark chill.

"We'll come back again tomorrow," promised Link, still feeling like he was floating.

Daegal nodded, not furiously this time. He gave a content bob of his head. They were holding hands.

"I like you," said Daegal, not differently than he usually said it. But to Link, it felt different. He felt like he had everything in the world.

He was about to respond with "I like you, too" when Daegal turned on his heels and bounded deeper into the forest, chasing an orange butterfly that had brushed past his nose. Link heard gasps and shouts of laughter, even after Daegal had disappeared from sight. He jogged to follow.

"Daegal?" he called, trying to locate the sounds of his friend's crackling footsteps. He raced around for several seconds, squinting his eyes, looking for movement.

Daegal was standing up on a pointed rock, smaller than their boulder, jutting up from the ground. His back was to Link.

"Did you catch it, bud?" Link asked.

Daegal didn't answer. He was staring intently at something in the distance, something that Link couldn't see.

"What is it?"

Link watched Daegal point slowly and wordlessly. Then he jumped from his perch on the rock and headed directly forward, as if in a trance. He crouched down on the ground a few feet away, brushed aside piles of dead leaves, and for the first time, Link could see a golden glint catch the light.

"What have you got, Daegal?" He ran to his side, kneeling down next to him.

Daegal was digging frantically, pawing at the ground, trying to reveal what was underneath. Link reached out to help, but Daegal swatted it away.

After many seconds, a shimmering triangular crest became visible, partially embedded in the soil of the forest floor. It glowed warmly, making Link's breath drop away. He glanced at Daegal. He was staring at it, wide-eyed, with little expression.

Daegal allowed Link to unearth the golden plate for him, but reached his out his hands for it once it was out of the ground.

"Let's bring it back," Link suggested. "It's probably worth a lot of money. We can share it with the rest of the town—"

Daegal grunted in response. He hugged the treasure to his chest and shook his head.

"We can't keep this a secret. It must be really important." Link knew he was making more conversation than Daegal was comfortable with, but he hated the trance-like state that Daegal was in. "Domhn might know what it is, or maybe your father."

"I'll keep it," came Daegal's reply.

"Okay," said Link, surrendering. "We won't tell anyone about it. But let's keep it safe in my house, so nothing happens to it. I promise, I'll keep it a secret." Link reached for the triangular crest with caution, unsure if Daegal would pull away or not.

He seemed to heavily consider Link's words. After seconds of hesitation, Daegal handed over the crest, not wanting to let go.

Link wrapped it in the folds of his tunic so that it wasn't visible anymore. He stood up, beckoning Daegal to follow, and the two of them retreated back to Hillwind.

00000

The mayor was standing in Link's house. A bespectacled man with light hair and cool eyes, Domhn paced back and forth in front of the dining table with his thumb and forefinger on his chin.

Jørn shifted uncomfortably in his chair, staring skeptically at the golden crest that Link had placed on the table for them to inspect. His face was cast in a dull glow from the overhead lamp. The sky outside was black.

Domhn stopped in his tracks.

"Are you okay?" Link asked for the third time that evening.

"I'll be fine," the mayor replied. "I'm just trying to process. . .and register what's going on." He adjusted his glasses. "I don't know what to make of this, this wonderful find. This is an intellectual paradox, a historical miracle."

"And what exactly is it?" Jørn asked.

"Well, I don't want to jump to any assumptions," said Domhn. "But what you've found is almost unmistakable, unless it's a replica, in which case, this isn't as exciting as I thought."

"A replica of what?" Link exclaimed impatiently, jumping from his chair.

Domhn smiled excitedly. "I think you've found a Triforce shard, my boy."

Link shrugged. "You'll have to elaborate."

"You don't know what it is?" Domhn looked to Jørn, who shook his head.

"Me neither."

"Both of you are a little young to have been told of the legend, but the tales are quite famous. Don't you know the history of your own home?"

"Sure," replied Link. "Hylians used to live on the Island of Dinn until the new castle was built. They migrated to Hyrule where most people settled in the provinces, but some of them fled to the forest because they didn't want to be ruled. They started an independent civilization. And that's us."

Domhn shook his head. "But that was only a few hundred years ago. I'm talking about the folklore, how Hyrule itself came to be." When he got no response, Domhn groaned and took Link's seat. "Our world was created by three goddesses, Din, Nayru, and Farore. They left behind the Triforce. The Triforce is made up of three golden triangles." He gestured to the one on the table. "According to folklore, when the three of them are together, it can grant wishes, wishes of both good and evil. The three pieces are named for Courage, Wisdom, and Power. The goddess Din possesses power, Nayru possesses wisdom, and Farore possesses courage. Each of these shards were left at their respective crests, dedicated to the goddess. For example, the Triforce of Power, ruled by the Goddess Din, should be located in the Eldin Province. And the Triforce of Courage, which is most probably this one here, was left in our Faron Woods, and the temple of Farore."

"You really believe that?" Link asked.

"Well, of course there's the part about the Demon King and the ancient battle between him and the Goddess Hylia, and the part where the survivors of that battle were sent to a land in the sky, but fewer people buy into that. What's important is that you found the correct Triforce shard at its correct location. You did find it at Farore's temple, yes?"

"I found it in the ground," replied Link. "Actually, Daegal found it. It was buried in the dirt."

Domhn didn't answer. He ran a hand through his hair and removed his glasses.

"What, is that an issue?"

"Uh," answered Domhn, fiddling with his glasses. "It only indicates that someone tried to use the Triforce to make a wish, and they were unsuccessful."

"So there are rules?" asked Link.

"Yes," said Domhn. "In order to make a wish, the person who possesses all of the shards must have a balance of courage, wisdom, and power, otherwise they are deemed unworthy and the the three pieces break apart."

"Someone tried to use the Triforce for evil, so now they're all in the wrong spot? Why do we care about that? It'll take them forever to track them all down again, since they could be anywhere. And this could've happened ages ago," said Link, leaning on the counter.

"True," answered Domhn. "All we need to do is keep this one safe, and they won't be able to do it again."

"Do we have to keep it in my house?" asked Jørn, once again joining the conversation.

"I want to keep it from Daegal," said Link. "He acted really strangely around it, like he was being hypnotized. He didn't want me to take it from him. I'll hide it, and hopefully he'll forget about it."

He straightened himself up and took the shard from the table. "I wonder which one this is."

"I don't think there's any way to find out," said Domhn.

Link opened the drawer to Jørn's desk, finding it stuffed full with papers. He laid the shard underneath and closed the drawer again, turning back to the table. "We'll never speak of it again," he proposed.

Jørn and Domhn simultaneously nodded.

"This really is magnificent," Domhn exclaimed. "In Castle Town, when I was growing up, I would always read stories about the Legend of Hyrule. The folklore is so fascinating." He seemed lost in thought. "I haven't been back to Castle Town in a long time."

"I can't imagine why you'd want to," spat Jørn. "I like it here, as far away from Hyrule Castle as you can get."

"But you traveled," inquired Link. "Haven't you ever been there?"

"I wouldn't set a foot inside the gates."

Domhn pretended to cough. "I do admit that Hyrule Castle has not been the most. . .competent in preventing the Bulblin attacks, at least not back when you were a boy, Jørn. But really, the experience of being inside the castle gates is an extremely memorable one."

"You mean like the memories of my friends and family locked in Hyrule's dungeons simply for existing?"

"Things have changed in ten years," Domhn tried to say.

"If they've changed, then why is Kakariko still the richest province, and Alfos still the poorest? Why is the Lionian Barrier still standing?" Jørn asked venomously.

"The Lionian Barrier was crafted to keep the royal family safe from the Bulblins."

"And what about keeping the rest of the kingdom safe?"

Domhn put his glasses back on. "As I said, I haven't been back in Castle Town since I was around seventeen." He stood up and placed a firm hand on Link's shoulder. "The Triforce is our secret. Keep it safe, and be careful."

He opened the door and stepped out into the night.

00000

When Link went upstairs to bed, he had left Jørn at the dining table, lost in his own thoughts.

"Don't stay up all night," he said on his way up.

Jørn didn't answer.

Link woke at dawn, when the sky was still washed with the shadows of night, but giving way to a glow on the eastern horizon. He was freezing, he noticed, and his eyes flew open when he saw Athol's enraged face standing above him.

"Where's my brother?" she demanded, grabbing the front of his tunic and pulling him forward.

Link shoved her hands away. "Athol, you can't just—"

"Where is he? Everybody's looking for him. The whole town is up. He's gone."

"What?" Link mumbled after he registered her words. He rubbed his eyes and got out of bed to peer out the window. All he could see at first were lanterns in the dim light, and he heard his neighbors shouting Daegal's name over and over.

Link pushed Athol aside and rushed downstairs, where Jørn was asleep at the table. He could hear Athol following him.

"You've got to know where he is," she shouted to his back.

"I dropped him off at your house, yesterday," he replied, on his way out the door. "I have no idea where he is. When did you notice he was missing?"

"He trashed the house. I heard crashing and then the door slammed, so I went to his room to check on him and he wasn't there, so I woke my father up."

The sun was beginning to rise by the time they reached the town square, which was really just a stone fire pit that had been set ablaze. The townspeople who weren't bearing lanterns had gathered around in confusion, whispering to one another, afraid to ask their questions out loud.

"Where's Domhn?" asked Link.

"He's searching at the lake. My father's gone further up to look near the bay. Nessah and Rikh just went to comb the fields with Liliah. Miri and the kids are with Moira," said Athol.

Link nodded and abandoned her, making his way around the fire to find Moira, Domhn's wife. She was cradling Miri. Saundra, Calum and Carson were all wrapping blankets around their shoulders, huddling close to the fire.

"When Domhn gets back, tell him I need to talk to him," he said.

"He's gone up Tetran Lake," Moira replied. "He took a canoe."

"Daegal can't swim. He doesn't go anywhere near water." Link turned around and raced back to his house. Jørn was still asleep in his chair. Link shook him awake.

"Jørn, we need your help," he panted, jostling Jørn's shoulder.

"What's going on?"

"Daegal is missing. Get up, we have to look for him."

Jørn woke slowly. "Where's Liliah?"

"She's in the fields," replied Link. "They need help."

Link waited until Jørn had left. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he opened the drawer to the desk. He rummaged through all of the papers, his heart beating in his throat. He couldn't find it.

Link swore and kicked the desk. He had stolen it. Daegal was running, and when he didn't want to be found, nobody ever discovered him until he was ready.

00000

"Where's my son?" Nichol roared to nobody in particular. He only received worried stares from the townspeople in return.

There was a primrose glow in the sky, casting waves of early morning colors onto the scared faces of the Hillwind folk. The fires were still burning, and they had gathered around in the town square, having returned unsuccessfully from each of their searches.

"We found nothing in the fields," reported Rikh, Liliah's father. His wife Nessah looked as though she was going to faint. The frail woman had suffered from health problems since she was a teenager; there was a lot of pollution in the province of Sari, encouraging the family's move to Hillwind where there was clean water. She had a pale, thin face and matching hair. Her eyes were hollow but light.

"They weren't disturbed," she added. "He didn't go near the fields."

Liliah was holding her daughter now, trying to comfort her mother simultaneously. "No sign near the shoreline?" she asked Nichol and Domhn.

Domhn shook his head. "I went up the Tetran side of Faron Woods, and Nichol went up the Bay of Farore. We stayed close to the shore. Daegal doesn't swim, so it would've been pointless to go too far out."

"And everyone searched their homes?" Nichol demanded. "He could be hiding somewhere. He has to be here somewhere. We can't just stop looking."

Link stayed silent. He waited for Nichol to calm himself down.

Domhn stepped forward. "A town meeting," he declared. "In my home."

Nichol nodded. "Athol, bring the children to the house. Liliah can go with you. Everyone else, to the mayor's house."

Athol, who had been crying for the better part of the hour, took Saundra's hand and beckoned for the twin boys to follow. Liliah trailed closely behind her, cradling a sleeping Miri.

Domhn's house was the second-largest in Hillwind, though it only accommodated three people. It was the certain kind of privilege only a mayor received. In truth, Domhn was not Hillwind's first choice for mayor. Nichol had been the desired candidate. He had been appointed after his wife's death, when Athol was only a baby. He declined, having to raise two young children, one of which had a mental disability.

Moira found her way through the crowd to the expansive and well-stocked kitchen. She reached up to open a cabinet and pulled out three matching ceramic cups, white with blue trim, and three more that were mismatched. She placed the six cups on the counter, then put a heavy kettle on the stove. In a burlap pouch, she extracted handfuls of sweet Kakari herbs, the ones that had a citrus tang and a cinnamon spice.

Domhn encouraged the remaining people to sit down at the wide circular table. There were enough chairs, since most town meetings were held in his house during the winter months. Nichol remained standing, but the rest of them took a seat: Nessah and Rikh next to each other, and Link and Jørn on the opposite side.

"First of all, everyone needs to calm down," said Domhn.

"Daegal can't be on his own, you know how he is," Nichol snapped back. "He wouldn't last a day." He turned to Link. "You know him better than anyone, lad. Did he have any reason to run off? Or might someone have taken him?"

"Nobody would've taken him," replied Rikh. "Nobody's come through the Faron Woods since Liliah returned from her visit to Sari two years ago. No one has a reason to come to Hillwind. The woods are too dangerous to outsiders. It's what keeps Hyrule Castle off our backs."

Domhn flinched slightly.

"I haven't spoken to Daegal since yesterday," answered Link truthfully. "I dropped him off at home and he seemed fine." The last part was less truthful, but he didn't know how much of the story he wanted to reveal. He looked to Domhn for approval.

The mayor seemed to consider something. "We need to make a plan. Tell them what you found, Link."

Everyone turned to Link except for Jørn, who had heard the story and didn't want to hear it again. There was a tense silence, which was interrupted by the squealing of a kettle. Moira jumped to take it off the stove, and poured an ample amount of boiling water into each of the six ceramic cups. A sprinkling of ground herbs was mixed in, along with Ilian honey to sweeten the flavorful tea. Moira placed cups in front of everyone, handing Domhn and Nichol theirs. The dark-haired, green-eyed beauty then sat down to hear what Link had to say.

To delay, Link took a sip of his tea. The spicy taste of cinnamon and orange exploded on his tongue, warming his insides.

"We were in the woods yesterday, like we normally are," began Link, and immediately he felt his audience shift uncomfortably. He didn't tell them about the kiss.

"He was fine at first. He ended up running off, and I caught up with him, and I saw that he had found something. It was buried in the ground, so I helped him dig it out. It was a golden crest."

The assembly gasped. Jørn stared into his tea. Domhn jumped in to help Link.

"Now, as you all know, the Triforce is widely received as a legend," he said. "But we need to factor in every possibility."

"What's the Triforce got to do with anything?" Rikh asked.

Domhn prompted Link to continue.

"We dug up the crest and Daegal seemed obsessed with it. It put him in some sort of trance. I had to persuade him to give it to me because I didn't think it was good for him. So I brought him home and I hid the crest in my house. I don't know if it's the real Triforce or which shard it is, but I thought it was worth mentioning. This morning when everyone was searching, I checked for the crest. It was gone. I think Daegal took it, but I don't know where he would've run off to."

"These Triforce shards can be very dangerous if placed in the wrong hands," said Domhn. "You all know the story."

"That's all it is," replied Rikh. "A story. A legend."

"I was told that story when I was young," added Nessah. "The folklore has died out a little since then. But I remember how it went. If you find a shard at its correct temple, all you have to do is collect the others, and you'll be granted your wish." She looked dreamy, as if trying to recall what she might've wished for. "But you found it buried in the dirt. The other two pieces could be anywhere."

"Which is exactly what makes it dangerous," interrupted Domhn. "Daegal could have any of the Triforce shards. The other two are unaccounted for. For the sake of Hyrule, we need to locate him. Combining the shards may bear serious consequences. That's why the Goddesses kept them separate."

"Your talk of the Goddesses, though poetic, is distracting us from the real problem," Jørn suddenly interjected. "Nobody knows if the stories are true or not. In my opinion, they're fictional, and childish. What matters is that Daegal is missing. We're not trying to save the world, we're trying to get him back." Jørn looked up from his crimson tea to shoot a venomous glance at Domhn.

The mayor stuttered slightly. "I am only trying to inform everyone of the enormity of the situation—"

"Lads," growled Nichol, slamming his cup on the kitchen counter. The piping hot contents splashed his skillful, callused hand. He didn't wince. "Jørn is right, but there's no use arguing about it. We need to start organizing a plan. I want my son back, and I want him back alive."

Domhn nodded, shamefully admitting defeat. "We'll send groups of two at a time, Liliah included, if that's all right with you, Rikh."

Rikh nodded. Nessah looked more hesitant, but agreed with him.

"Each of them will scout different sections of the Faron Woods. Look for any sign of Daegal, any sign at all, and report it back here," Domhn proposed. "He couldn't have gone far, so if we start out as soon as possible, we'll have a better chance of locating him."

"What are we looking for?" asked Nessah, holding her steaming tea in from of her face with two hands as if she would otherwise drop it.

"Perhaps something he's dropped, signs of a struggle, anything that seems out of the ordinary."

"Daegal knows," said Link. "He knows he's not supposed to run off. He's been told over and over. He wouldn't do this unless he had a reason."

"And what reason could he have?" Nichol exclaimed, teeming with fury. "He is only a boy, and he doesn't work like the rest of us. His mind is different, he still acts like a child. Moira, if your Saundra was lost, what would be your first thought? Nessah, if Calum or Carson wandered off, why would they have done it?" The large man, who often resembled a craggy mountain, was on the verge of eruption.

Moira shook her head, dark curls falling across her shoulders. "Saundra has always stayed close by," she replied. "She's not an adventurous girl. Even Calum and Carson know better."

"So does Daegal," Link reminded them. "I don't think he did this of his own accord. Something is persuading him, something he doesn't understand. And I think it has something to do with the Triforce." He waited for the assembly to burst into argument again.

They didn't. It was so quiet that the floating steam from the teacups seemed to be making noise.

"I'll take the first search," he volunteered. "Nobody needs to come with me, I'm going alone."

"Nonsense," argued Domhn. "You may think you know the woods, but there are perils. Nobody should go alone."

"Daegal's out there by himself, and he's not coming back until one of us goes to get him. He's shy, and if we chase him, he'll most likely run further. I have to do it on my own. I know what he's like."

"And what will you do with the Triforce shard, should he still have it?"

"We'll figure that out later," said Link. "I'll be out there for as long as it takes to find him, so if I don't come back right away, don't bother sending anyone else."

"What if something happens to you?" asked Jørn. "How are we supposed to know if you're alive or dead?"

Link ignored his friend's concerns. He didn't have an answer for that.

"I say we let him go," Rikh said.

"He's a child," protested Moira in her fruity, songlike voice.

"Daegal needs someone to go after him," added Nessah, more quietly than the rest.

"And Link is the best man to do it," said Nichol.

"And what about his life?" Jørn shouted. It was unlike him. Everyone in the room jumped, startled at his volume.

"Link is able to take care of himself," Nichol growled back. "Daegal isn't! You are not in charge here, boy, you don't call the shots."

Jørn stood up defensively. "Don't you dare call me a boy, Nichol. I grew up a long time ago. I grew up among men who are all dead now because they were so unfortunate to have ended up in Alfos. I was lucky and I got away but I had to take on much more than other boys."

"You are a man like the rest of us," offered Domhn.

"You were raised an aristocrat," spat Jørn. "An aristocrat in the elite Castle Town. You wanted for nothing."

"I wanted to expand my knowledge of the kingdom," the mayor replied. "I was different from the rest of the high class. I wanted to know the truth about how Hyrule functions. I'm not as blind as some others."

"Yet you still take the side of King Daphnes. You agree with his decision to ignore the Bulblin attacks on the provinces. Do you know how many people, including myself, were forced out of their homes?" Jørn didn't give Domhn a chance to answer. "Every year of my life, I almost died of infection, while you had experienced doctors at your side. Why not send some of those doctors to the provinces? Why doesn't Hyrule give a damn about the rest of the kingdom?"

Nichol's leathery fists clenched around Jørn's collar. "You're not better than any of us, lad," he roared. It took both Link and Jørn's strength to shove him away.

"Everybody, just calm down," Link ordered. Jørn looked like he wanted to explode further, but he huffed in anger and turned away from Nichol.

"I'm leaving today," proclaimed Link certainly, daring any of the townspeople to challenge him again. "And I will bring Daegal back, no matter what it takes."

00000

The bright morning light stung Link's eyes as he quickly made his way back home with Jørn on his heels.

"Link, this is a bad idea," he heard him shout.

"It's the only thing that will work," Link called back. Silence followed, which usually meant that Jørn was trying to think of a way to persuade him out of his mindset.

Hillwind looked considerably less beautiful on that morning. The sky was deepening into a soulful blue and the sun was shining, but it all seemed gray to Link.

He reached the front door and yanked it open, not waiting for Jørn to catch up with him. The inside of his house brought a small comfort to his tired eyes, even though he knew he couldn't rest. The drawer to Jørn's desk was still open, with unimportant papers scattered about. Without giving himself a chance to catch his breath, Link bolted upstairs to the bedrooms. His bedsheets were wrinkled from his sudden wake a few hours earlier.

There was a small wooden box resting on the shelf next to his bed. Nichol had crafted it out of maple, with simple but beautiful carvings on the lid, a true Hillwind artifact. Normally he charged many rupees for his work when trading with the provinces, especially Kakariko, but not for Link. In this box, he kept small valuables. His life's savings (65 rupees. Domhn collected the profits from exports and divided them evenly among the citizens who were over eighteen. Link was not, but Jørn donated a third of all his earnings to him), Daegal's whistle, clumsily made, but Link treasured it. Not knowing what else to do, he tucked the whistle and forty rupees into a pouch.

It wasn't until he had slowed from his hurry that Link realized he was hungry. He heard Jørn come inside, and decided that one last breakfast with his friend wouldn't do any harm. As long as it was quick.

Jørn was waiting for him downstairs. "Are you ready to listen now?" he asked with his hands on his hips.

Link nodded meekly, heading to the kitchen. He retrieved a loaf of bread from the cabinet as Jørn's words hit his back.

"What happens if you don't find Daegal where you expect to?" he asked while Link began cutting the bread into thin slices.

"He's in the woods somewhere, I know he is. Daegal couldn't have gone far. Even for a Hillwind, he's. . .discombobulated. You know what I mean."

"Look at me," Jørn demanded. Link rolled his eyes and turned around, still clutching the kitchen knife.

"He has magic with him. Magic that we don't understand, and that he doesn't understand. Things will not be as they seem. This won't be a predictable journey. You're trying to prepare for things you can't prepare for, which is why you shouldn't go alone," he said, maintaining eye contact.

"I thought you didn't believe in the legend," scowled Link. He reached for the glass butter jar and began to spread it amply across the slices of bread.

"I don't believe it has anything to do with the Goddesses. But I do realize that there's something different going on, and if you can't think of a reason why Daegal would leave, there seems to be no other explanation." Finally deciding to be of use, Jørn started to set slices of cheese and ham on the table while Link set out the bread and fetched cups for the two of them.

"So you were really just giving Domhn a hard time?" Link asked.

"He doesn't know what he's doing," Jørn replied.

"Oh, and you do?"

Jørn scoffed bitterly. "You know I'd never be elected. Not even if I was next in line. After Domhn resigns his position, Rikh will become the new mayor. And then you."

Link was startled. "They can't skip over you."

"They might as well skip over Rikh, too. The townspeople adore you, Link. I don't know if you realize it, but you are the face of courage for these people. You do things that the quiet Hillwind folk would never dare to do. And now, you're off to save Nichol's son. I wouldn't be surprised if they elected you as mayor the second you got back." Jørn gave a sad smile. "Nobody wants to be led by an Alf. What do we know about community, or structure?"

Link piled cheese and ham onto a slice of bread. "You've seen more of Hyrule than anyone else has. Even more than Domhn. You know how the world works."

"And all I gained from it are souvenirs and stories. I'm not leader material. But you are, Link. You really have a lot of potential. So if you won't allow someone to come with you, at least be careful."

"You just want to get out of Hillwind," said Link.

"Isn't that what everyone really wants?"

"The only person who's left Hillwind in the past two years is Liliah. Everyone's content here," Link said after swallowing. "So I'll tell you what. Let me go do this, then you can marry Liliah and go wherever you want."

Jørn looked away. "She wouldn't marry me," he replied sheepishly. "That would only confirm the rumors."

"Wait. I'm confused." Link put down his breakfast. "You're saying that you don't want to take responsibility for your own daughter? You don't want to claim that family as your own?"

"I don't want to embarrass her. Half the town can't stand me anyway," Jørn answered. "If I married her, or worse, if we both left with Miri, she'd never be able to speak to her family again. I don't want to give her the life of an outcast. I already live that life. And I've seen women and children live that life. She's happy here. She's comfortable. I want it to stay that way."

Link didn't know what to say, so Jørn went on. "Where would I take her, even if we could leave? Hillwind is one of the most prosperous places in Hyrule. I can't bring her back to Alfos with me. And she'll get sick again if she goes back to Sari. Kakariko is no place for a child to grow up."

"But you love her—"

"Yes, I love her. So I wouldn't bring them to a place like Alfos. Every day, something bad seems to happen. Either Bulblin attacks or famine or a sickness. Everything is dangerous. Even sleeping is dangerous. If you hurt yourself, you're dead, because there are no doctors, none that have any useful knowledge." Jørn stopped talking, angering himself.

"So why don't they all just leave?" Link asked, going back to his breakfast.

"In a word, money. In another, the Bulblins. Not a lot of Alfs could afford to get away, and many of those who could were killed on the way. I was just lucky, I guess. My older brother had been working to support my mother and me. Once he had made enough money, my mother tried to send us both to the province of Vera, which is just across Hyrule Field. It really isn't very far away from Alfos, but it was the furthest we'd be able to get. Of course I was eager to leave. I didn't care that my mother wasn't coming. But my brother wanted to stay and make sure nothing happened to her."

"How old were you?" Link asked.

"Four," Jørn replied. "Adam was twelve."

"I'm having trouble picturing a four-year-old booking it across Hyrule Field with the Bulblin forces on his back."

Jørn finally helped himself to the food on the table. "I didn't travel alone. There were others. Mostly young people, a few other children. People who wanted a better life. We rode on sickly horses with one wagon to carry the weak travellers. All of us were weak, though. We ran out of food a few times and we had to eat monster carcasses. They had been rotting in the sun for weeks. We didn't have time to bury our dead so we left them. I'd imagine that the stretch of Hyrule Field connecting Alfos to Vera is littered with the bones of the young and old."

Link didn't feel like eating anymore. But Jørn continued.

"A lot of the survivors settled in Vera, but for some it was still too close to Alfos for comfort. Those people stowed away on a freight train, which is a fugitive railway in disguise. It's called—"

"The Runner's Express," interrupted Link. "I've heard of it. Domhn told me about it once. You've been on it?"

Jørn nodded. "I rode it anywhere it would take me. Ili, Sari, Tinn, Kakariko. Then it left the Eldin provinces and made its way to the Ren Marshes on the Main Road. The Ren Marshes are all the way on the other side of Hyrule. I met so many people, and when I got off at the marshes, I didn't stop there. I travelled to the Zora Tribe, and they took me through a mountain pass that led to the Gorons. At that point, I realized I'd gone in a circle, since the Eldin volcano isn't very far from Alfos. So I decided maybe a nautical life would be more interesting. I boarded a ship and saw the entire Hylian coastline, then got off at the Bay of Farore. I stayed in Hillwind after that. But I miss the traveling."

"Hearing all that almost makes me wish I wasn't just going to the Faron Woods and back," said Link. He cleared his plate. "Maybe some other time I will. But I should probably go now."

Again, Jørn nodded. "Just be careful," he reminded him. "And good luck."

"Thanks," Link said. "I'll be back soon. And you'll have the house to yourself for a little bit. You could invite Liliah over." He looked around. "Just clean up a bit first."