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Chapter Text

"Tell me...Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?"

The evening sun rested like a crown above the mountains to the south. The birds had all gone off to bed, snuggling in their nests. The ants below buried into the dirt, and all the world at once seemed to flee to its home, afraid of the coming night. He saw everything, the sky, the moon, the stars, and felt no fear towards the unknown, for there was nothing he could not yet grasp.

Link was young, and the world was all so new, but he would understand it in time. The farm was the world, and he was taught the names of every little plant and moss and rock, so he might as well be some kind of scholar. He was naïve to think that he understood everything, but so far, the only place that seemed to matter was home, and he was the master of that.

The little boy found it sad that everyone was so fearful of the dark. All kinds of little creatures came about under the banner of stars, glowing fireflies, like little lanterns, moths, who outstretched their delicate little wings, and bats, who ruled the night sky even when they could not see it. He found them all so beautiful. A shame, that he should sleep past their portion of activity.

Yes, he did feel sad as dusk fell. No matter what he did, the creatures of light and dark would be separate, and he, somewhere confusingly in the middle. He wanted to know. He wanted to understand.

"They say it's the only time when our world intersects with theirs…."

His father was wise. He seemed to know everything about the land they called home. And one day, he would know it all too. How he longed for the day, but again, he cherished the present moment.

"....the only time when we can feel the lingering regrets of spirits who have left our world. That is why loneliness always pervades the hour of twilight. But enough talk of sadness. I have a favor to ask of you, Link…"

He listened attentively. He'd always helped around the farm. But he knew what was coming. Winters upon winters had left their soil drained and tires. The earth wept under bare fields, and he knew they couldn't stay like this. Link was no fool.

"I was going to head off to the capital to send for aid….but age has caught up with me. I will not be able to make the journey. Link, will you go in my stead?"

Link looks confused for a moment. Rusl was sick? He knew that time made people frail, but this fast? Things were really speeding up. But of course he'd go. He'd do anything for his family.

"You've never been to Hyrule, right? In the kingdom of Hyrule there is a great castle, and around it is Castle Town, a community far bigger than our little farm. And far bigger than Hyrule is the rest of the vast world the gods created. You should look upon it all with your own eyes."

He had never been outside of their home. Miles and miles of open fields, and the little hillsides….one would think they were the only people in the entire world. Link would be alright with that. All he needed was Rusl, Uli, and his little brother Colin, and of course, Epona. He had lived that way for seventeen years. What could Hyrule possibly have that he couldn't experience right here? He isn't sure if he's ready for an adventure like that. He'd heard stories of Hyrule, its ancient legends. How did it go again…

In the beginning, there were three golden Goddesses. Din, Nayru, and Farore. They created the land, the people, and the animals, and gave it life. The three Goddesses looked upon their work, and saw that it was good, and returned to the heavens, leaving behind an ancient power called the Triforce. They entrusted the goddess Hylia with the protection of their land. Hylia once fought a great war with Demise, the demon king. During that terrible time, arose a hero, named Link, and a princess named Zelda. They brought peace to the land. In every era, it's said that the princess and the hero would be born again to keep that peace. Many children have been named Link for this purpose - so that their child might be the vessel for the legendary hero.

That was the story Uli had always whispered him to sleep with. He thought it was rather interesting, but it was all legend, obviously. Link believed in what he could see, and what he could see was the land, the flowers, the trees and the mountains. To think they were all crafted by some ancient hand and not simply having existed for all times….it was silly. That's not to say he didn't believe in gods, though. More like spirits, watching over and protecting the land, and providing them with bountiful harvests. Those spirits must be angry at them, though, to give them such a harsh winter.

It was for the Hero that he had been named. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence. Maybe he was the one destined to journey to Hyrule, and to save his family.

If it were to preserve the gentle life he led, then he would gladly do it.

"It's getting late. I will talk the matter over with Uli. Let's go home."

Rusl got up from his seat beside the old apple tree, and his son followed. Over the hill, then to Epona. He guided the old chestnut horse back to the farmhouse. The building was made in weathered red wood, with that old tin roof that pitter-pattered in the rain. Home. How glad he was to be back….

Through the hall they went, and then it was off to bed. Far too late for supper now. Besides, he was tired. He'd just have to eat a big breakfast in the morning. He'd probably be heading off to Hyrule anyways, so he'll need it.

Colin sat across from him on the little hay bed. Poor thing. He looked so small, even when he was just starting to grow up. He'll make it better. He promises. Colin's already asleep, so he follows suit. He doesn't usually have trouble sleeping, but he finds it difficult to rest tonight.

When the sun rises, he packs his things. Rusl and Uli were solemn, but they had agreed to send him off. He would miss them all dearly. Especially little Colin. The blonde boy had hugged his leg, begging him to come back soon. He promised. The city couldn't be that scary. He'd find some work, and then he could get them all so food preserves for the winter. Surely, Castle Town has an excess of mason jars. He wonders how many barns they have. He says his goodbyes, and then hops on Epona.

If he knew it would be the last time he'd ever see their smiling faces, perhaps he would've taken more time.

Chapter Text

There was not much between Ordon Ranch and Hyrule Castle. He knew the path between them well - he had guided his father out there sometimes, but never reached the gates before he was to turn back and get home before dinner. He hadn't brought much with him. All that remained in the way was fields, and those were like his own lifeblood. He could get by. 

Even so, the journey was long. He came to sleep in many old sheds, all abandoned. He knew that the winter had destroyed many livelihoods, but seeing the open, dusty barns, the molded hay, the remaining animals that some had left behind - it was haunting. Whenever he was inside one of the abandoned residences, he made sure to take good care of it. It wasn't home. It couldn't be. But it was home to someone else - if they were ever to return, he would make sure it was in good condition. He couldn't stay in one place for long. The winds at his back guided him, and the Sun with its rising in the east and setting in the west lighted his way. He hardly used the map. These were his territory, really, and though he had never traveled this far, he knew it all the same, as if it was written in his very soul.

In the day, he rode on Epona through ancient grasslands, and in the night, rested on whatever he could find. The reeds and wheat of the fields were sharp, left untended by fleeing farmers, and they cut at the poor horse's legs. The roads were flat, but having not been traveled on for so long, were full of rocks and twigs. What a shame. It would have been such a beautiful landscape, if only they had stayed here a little longer, if they had cared for the earth once more. He took the sword from his back and trimmed at them often - Rusl had taught him how. He was an excellent fighter, even if he had no use for violence. 

The daylight came and went every day, shining on would-be masterpieces of trees, amber light on dried leaves that lined the dirt. Autumn. It will be here soon. In the night, the banner of stars was all that was visible - no one had lit lanterns, no fireplaces had shined and scared them away, and it was dark. Link did not mind. He could see just as well under night as in day, and the weeks of traveling trained his eyes to the blackness even more. 

He slept under mounds, behind little hills, in the mud and in the grass, and under trees and rocks, and while nothing could compare to his old bed, they were not uncomfortable. It was enough for him that the Earth found a way to shelter him - it was kind, in that way. Link was a simple boy. All he required was the land, and with that, he would find a way. He knew every berry and flower he could eat, and which ones were not to be trifled with. He knew how to count the rings on the trees, to see how old and brittle the wood would be. He knew the dirt and the stones and the soil, so what more was there? Perhaps he could simply exist here forever, in these moments, in nothing but the rustling wind and the sound of his own breathing. 

But he would soon return to his family, to an old red farmhouse, to the chestnut tree by the stream, to the chamomile that lined the fence post, to home. He couldn't get quite used to it. And then there were the sheds.

Pitiful things, all of them. When he came across one, he would wander into the spaces, clear out a little hole for himself, and was left with nothing. No more existed here. Humankind had left it long ago. He wondered about them. Worried about them, even. He was never quite alive inside these places, surrounded by death on all sides. He knew very well why they were abandoned. Winter came and went, and with it, took its toll. He had just never thought it would cut so deeply, so personally. Link had never met these people. And yet they must have lived here for generations, breathed and died here, loved here. And now, he was here. What right did he have to trample upon the resting place of thousands of broken families?

He sighed. Link tried not to think about it. He could almost see their faces. 

One night, he found an old brown barn. It was huge - they must've kept hundreds of animals in these pastures once. Still, no one home. Or, at least, no person home. Link stumbled across a little shepherd dog when he walked around to explore, a tricolor border collie. It was a scrawny little thing - still, very fluffy, as he would soon learn. Brown, yellow and black spots all across its fur. He remembers their old dog, Duke. A brown boxer, and a silly little fellow. Always ended up getting stuck against the fence. But he was the best companion any farmhand could ask for.

He was his grandfather Harvey's dog. They always called Harvey "Paw Paw", or old Chester. He was a staunch and serious type, but eventually, his age caught up with him. Duke remained after his death, and soon became Link's dog. He cared for him as best he could, but Duke followed soon after his old master, and died shortly after Colin was born. Poor boy….

When he found the little border collie, it was nibbling on a bone. He recognized it grimly as belonging to a human. He'd broken many bones before - falling out of trees when he was a kid, mostly, but also attempting to tame Epona. Link had felt around some of the broken areas when he was in bed - ribs, they were ribs, and he soon learned the name and shape of the other bones he'd broken. The current dog was chewing on a femur. 

"Hey, hey, bad, bad, get back over here," Link's eyes lit up with worry, calling it over to him upon the realization that it might have been the remains of its previous owner. As expected, it responded to its voice. This dog had once belonged to someone. Maybe Link's voice was similar to its owner. "Can't eat that," He reprimanded, kneeling down to its level. It barked something at him, then turned to the pasture - a few lone cows remained on the prairie. 

It was trying to wake its owner up. It was time to herd the cattle in the evening. How many times had it tried to get them to respond, and to no avail?

"Oh. Oh, you poor boy…" Link got it to sit down, drawing it close and patting its head. It's all alone out here. It'll never get him to wake back up. But it still kept trying. He handed it a little piece of pork he'd packed for the trip - the collie lit up at that. At least it was getting something. It followed him to the barn, where he eventually went to sleep. Sure enough, the collie was prodding him as soon as the sun was in the sky. Time to get up. Cows are out.

Link rose, but he did not go to the pasture. The collie bit at his pant leg - pulling him over. He can't stay. He's not the same as his owner. He needs to get to Castle Town. But to abandon it, twice over? What could he even do? There's no one for miles. Hylia only knows how it survived for this long. If he told it to stay, it would wait for him forever. In its mind, he was the same as the old farmer. Link almost wanted to sob. Can't stay. He needs to be going. 

"Someone has to protect these cows, alright? I'll leave it to you. Your friend taught you well. Can you do that for me?" Link's voice shook. He's never stumbled before. The dog seemed to understand him - all the same it was sad at him leaving. It followed him to Epona, tail wagging as he hopped on. "Get me out of here, 'Pona," He broke apart, shoulders trembling, "before I change my mind."

Epona understood, and the two sped off again to Castle Town.

Accursed winter.

Chapter Text

When the wind changed, he knew he was close.

He'd only heard stories about this place. It was somehow everything he'd expected and so foreign at the same time. The sun rose over a piercing pillar of stone, and the fog covered the ground in every corner, obscuring the town nearly in its entirety. It lacked color. It lacked life. He didn't understand how anyone could live here.

Smokestacks appeared from above the cloud of fog as he drew nearer, and for a moment, he thought the place had been set ablaze by the light of the sun. The wind carried the polluted air over to him, over to the fields. No trees surrounded the place. They had all been cut down long ago. He stayed close to Epona as they came to the gate - the giant, stone gate, that might as well be a wall of darkness - she'd never been around structures this large before. The air here was suffocating, marking the atmosphere in a dismal grey. What exactly had the people done here, to alter the very winds themselves? Burning, burning, all around him it was all burning, and no one batted an eye. Fire provided life and warmth, but what manner of inferno was this?

Link wants to go home. 

The guards at the gate stopped him, as expected. "Name and purpose," Pull yourself together. You can't keep breaking apart at the littlest things. It's only temporary. He'd get the materials he needed, get on Epona, and get out of here. Should only take a week, at most. He'd stay wherever he could find, and ask the knights for help. He'd read dozens of stories about knights - good, chivalrous knights - he'd always looked up to them. Maybe he'd even meet some here! Wouldn't that be lucky….

"Link Tyler Winchester," He nodded, pulling Epona closer to him. The guards rolled their eyes. Another one, they must be thinking. He can't help his name is so common. "I'm here to find supplies for the Ordona Province," Link explained further. They didn't seem to understand that at all. "The Ordona Province? We ship pumpkins, goat cheese, and the like? You seriously don't know?" He was naïve to think that just anyone would recognize their little farm. Even so, the guards didn't mind (or maybe they just didn't care enough to ask further), and he was let inside.

Claustrophobia, was his first thought. Colin would've hated it here. He can't say he likes it much better. So many buildings cramped into one space! And where were their gardens? Their livestock? How did they even get their food? If all those farms he'd seen out there were abandoned, then how did so many people manage to exist in this one space without even a flower patch? Castle Town is strange. Too strange.

Hundreds of people walked among the cobbled paths, and no one even looked at him. He thought, at least, since he'd looked so foreign to the place, what with the light clothes and riding boots and of course, Epona, that someone would have glanced at him strangely. Instead, he felt as if he were a ghost. Was he really so invisible in the scope of this many? All his life, it had just been him and his family, and the farm. He thought the tales of things like these were myths. Instead, it was a harsh reality. 

Link tried to get a few people's attention. If he could visit their reserves and borrow a few, he could easily be out of here in a week or two. But no one seemed to notice. Eventually, they got tired of him asking, and pushed him out of the way. 

It was a rough few days, those first moments in Castle Town. He had nowhere to keep Epona, so he had to travel with her all the time. That didn't matter to Link, of course, he loved Epona dearly, but people seemed to be getting fed up with his horse. One day, he'd found a job opening at a textile factory. He'd be working with material he knew there, at least. Didn't pay much at all, though. Not enough for a long period of rent. Well, it didn't matter either - he'd just need something to bide his time. A week or two. That was the hope he held.

The home he came to know was a wooden shed in a series of cabins. It was - small. He's a little disappointed, but he's not sure what he expected, really. And he's slept in worse. This place was actually pretty comfortable. The miller's was a taxing job. All these new machines to learn. He'd cut his finger a few times working on them. But he'd learned to adapt to anything, and he was already accustomed to difficult work, so it went by without a hitch. Except the fact that the money was barely enough for his apartment, and now he couldn't buy food, much less stock up on it to take home. 

A week or two. That's how long he spent at the miller's job. He would've quit much sooner, if he hadn't been so stubborn.

Now, the next best thing was a job working in forging. It'd be completely new territory there, and dangerous, considering all the melted material they'd be using, but it was the only real way to make a surplus. He'd have to wait, though, the next opening wasn't for another few days. He'd made a little abode for himself in an alleyway. Link stuck a tarp over the gap between the houses, so it wouldn't rain on him. He even put a little bucket up there to collect rainwater, like they had back at the farm. Apparently, one evening, some kid shot the bucket with a slingshot and caused all the water to collect suddenly, dripping through the tarp like a waterfall. 

Link had half a mind to go after him and yell, but what would that do? The water already fell, there's nothing he can do about it now. Besides, his clothes needed a wash anyway. Patience. It'd just be a little longer in this city. That's what he kept telling himself. But the grumbling in his stomach was evidence enough. He couldn't make it that far in this state. 

If he can't get what he wants by asking politely, then he'll just have to take it.

Chapter Text

Biding his time.

Link had been patient, very patient. He always was. 

He never had to worry about time before. It was months in between when the traveling merchants would come and go, when the catalog would come by, and he'd become very accustomed to waiting. Now it was simply a matter of planning, watching, and waiting for the time to strike. He had been selective about what he'd stolen, and when, and how. He couldn't risk getting caught - especially not when he was this close. So, he stood in the alleyway, as always, and waited. 

The morning rose with a mist, the fog covering the ground in little white clouds. Grey filled the area, dull as ever. It was never colorful here. He missed that about the farm. But there was nothing he could do about the weather. Instead, he would need to use it to his advantage. The sky was dark, and below the soles of his boots he could feel the stones coated with their morning dew. A storm was coming in. He could nearly feel it in his bones, in his very soul. The residents of Castle Town wouldn't know a thunderstorm if it tore open the heavens themselves and smited them all, but Link watched the clouds as if he were a bird, he knew their patterns, their shapes, like little cotton balls or long sheets or restless swirls. By noon today, it would be pouring, he'd bet his life on it.

So Link placed the tarp over his little alley once again, and then he headed out. It's a wonder he didn't get lost in these streets. There were so many intercrossing roads, so many buildings, and no landmarks. There were no mountains, no streams, no trees. Just the mechanical layout of man-made structures, for miles and miles. Link learned very quickly the location of the market, which he visited as soon as the sun rose in the sky. He was always punctual about his visits. 

The sun was bright out, or it would be, for now. The merchants were none the wiser and set up their stalls, not even bothering to cover the produce. Poor fellows. It'd be spoiled, once all that rain comes through. But that didn't matter to him now. He was past politeness - he had learned that he would do what he must to survive. Dusting off his shirt, he passed through the little hallways crowded with vendors. Flowers, nails, pastries, bugs, there was everything here. Link only had eyes for one thing, though, and that was the bread stall. The Winchesters would grow grains, and that would make wheat, and wheat would make bread. That would be all he needed. If he had ham or cheese, he could make himself a sandwich, but just the bread was fine to him now. Besides, it was foolish to assume he could afford any of those things. 

Link stood carefully beside the wooden boxes, figuring out which one to take. That was easy, the baguette. It was much longer than any of the others, so it'd last longer. He placed his hand over it, and was about to make for the door, when he felt another hand touch his, and for a moment, feared the worst. The guards. They were coming to get him, and he couldn't stand against them. He'd be taken away from his family forever. But when he looked up to the face that the limb belonged to - it was not so different from his own. The face of a child, just like him.

He had little time to observe the other boy before he started making off with the bread. Naturally, Link gave chase. He couldn't give this up, especially not to someone on his level. Once his feet took flight, the shopkeeper gave his screeching cry of "Thief, thief!", and then both of them fled. Link held onto the opposite end of the bread for dear life - the kid was fast, whoever he was. He turned a corner, and then down the corridor, when the two heard the clanking of armor pursuing them.

"Shit," His companion murmured, turning back to look at him in annoyance. "Come on, we'll share. Just run!" Link took hold of his hand, booking it for his little corner. But what protection would that give them? They didn't even have a door. The guards were hot on their tails now, and he isn't even sure what part of the city this kid led him to. 

"To my place!" He shouted, bolting down another corner. So he actually had a home to his name. Link isn't sure what he's expecting when they come up on a brick and mortar smithing home, but he can't complain. He takes him inside, and locks the door. The guards rush down their street. Link and his companion scarcely breathe for a few moments, afraid that any sound might give them away. They pass. Both let out a deep sigh. 

Link breaks off a piece for them both, but really, he's lost his appetite. His stomach had gone into a pit from seeing those armored soldiers. That won't do. He needs to pull himself together. If he freezes up everytime they come after him, he'd get in jail quicker than he could say cat. He takes a moment to look around the room first. It's a blackened little place, and ash lines the floor. They need to open a window sometime. The air in here will get bad if they keep going like this. There's an anvil to the right, and a stove. On the left is a door that he presumes leads to the bedrooms, which he does not care to explore at this time. For now, he turns his attention to the stowaway. 

He's much less pale than Link, who has awkward sun tans from field work. In fact, he seems brighter than Link in every way. He has messy blonde hair that slightly drops over one of his eyes, and one of his sideburns is tinted in pink. However did he manage that? Link will have to ask later. He's dressed in a simple white shirt and brown vest, but it's hard to tell what color it is, since it's covered in ash the same as the floors. He wears beaded bracelets. He apparently has a large collection of them. 

The kid looks at him strangely, and Link realizes that he has been staring, entirely still, for a few minutes now. Oh. How rude of him.

"My apologies," and Pinky here seems surprised that Link's voice is that deep for someone so young. His voice must have cracked earlier, while they were running away. Damn it. "It's okay. Just didn't expect ya to pop outta nowhere," He speaks much more casually than Link, despite him having heard the complete opposite from the story books. Is that really how Castle Town people talk? Never mind. He shouldn't pry.

"I'm Link Ralph Schmidt," He introduces, and Link puts on a brave face for a moment. They have the same first name. Well. This is a dilemma. He's never not called himself "Link" before, but he's never been too attached to the name either, so he'd be fine with donning a new alias. And then he notices. Schmidt, Schmidt. He's heard - no, seen, he's seen that name before. On their horse's bridles. The metal parts. There's an emblem entitled Schmidt.

But this kid…..he can't be the legendary blacksmith, Raphael Schmidt, right? He doesn't doubt that someone so young could have that much skill, but it is unlikely, and if he did have a business going on, he wouldn't be running about the streets covered in ash and stealing bread. 

"My name is Link too," He finally continues, and then Schmidt seems to understand his awkwardness earlier. Which one of them is going to give up their name? What if they both did it? He knew the name was popular, but he didn't think he'd find another kid just by chance like this. Link reaches for a blade at his side, and Schmidt almost panics, before he gently hands the sword out to him. He takes a moment to look over it, and then gasps quietly. "This is my uncle's! His swords all have the same bolt." Ah. So it's his uncle that's the legendary blacksmith, not him. Schmidt glances down at it again. "It's kinda dirty. I can fix it up for ya if ya like." He says it in the nicest way he can, but somehow, Link is still embarrassed. He thought he took good care of it. He guesses he doesn't know as much about swords as he thought. 

"How much?" Link asks almost instinctively, but he shakes his head. "Nothing, it's on the house!" Huh? But he can't just take it for free. Maintaining a sword takes time, takes effort, takes soul. To just collect it and give nothing back? That would be a disservice. "I'm sorry. I don't have any money. But I'm getting work soon. By the time you're finished, I could pay you back?" Link suggests nervously. Schmidt laughs. "You're really clueless, huh? I'm doing it for fun. You don't need to give me anything." For fun? Who in the world has enough patience to work with burning metal for fun? Schmidt, apparently. 

Link didn't quite understand, but he hesitantly handed the sword back to Schmidt. Take good care of it for him. 

"Well, this won't do. I can't just call ya Link too." Schmidt points out the obvious. "And it'd be weird to call ya by your last name. Nicknames! We need nicknames."  He rests his hand on his chin for a moment, dusting off the substance from his face. "You're almost a myth out in the Ordona Province. I could call you….Legend?" Link offers hesitantly. "Legend? Aye, that's a cool one! I'll take it!" He's apparently very pleased with his new name, which relieves Link immensely. Then Schmidt - or rather, Legend - glances up at him. "Whadda ya think should be yours?" 

He hasn't thought about that. He hasn't been thinking about anything at all, really. Most of his time here has been purely analytical and homesick - he didn't think he'd be making a friend. He is reminded of the sunset over his homeland. 

"Twilight," he decides, and it seems strangely solemn.

"That's too long. I'll call you Twi." The names are both two syllables, so he doesn't understand how one could be possibly longer than the other, but Legend insists. At least it isn't Uli calling him by his full name when he'd misplace the dishes.

Twilight turns to leave, but Legend stops him. He guesses he's been pretty mission-focused since he got here. Legend probably wants to just sit and relax for a while. But Twilight can't. He can't afford that. He has to be somewhere, be doing something, work, work, he needs work. "Ya can crash here if ya want. Place is empty," Legend moves to go to work on the sword, which leaves Twilight alone to explore the room. But there's one thought that doesn't escape him. "Empty? Where's your uncle?" He'd mentioned him earlier. That must be his guardian. Legend bites his lip at the question. Oh. Oh, dear.

"Uncle went up to the stars," Legend explains evasively. Twilight nods. Like crops withering in the cold, dust to dust.

"He couldn't leave me with much. The landlord's coming by in a month. Says I gotta rustle up the rent or he's takin' it." A month. He has a month. Already Twilight feels a sense of duty, and the clock on the wall ticks, ticks, ticks. He won't leave his friend alone. Not after all he's clearly been through. "I'll help you get the rent. That way I can pay you back for the sword," and that seems reasonable to Twilight. Legend has a silent guilt - he knows it - but accepts anyways. Twilight is unrelentingly kind. 

.....

He does not have much with him when he moves into Legend's house. He has Epona, his books, his journal, the calendar, the sword, and the rations. Enough to count on one hand. Legend's a bit surprised that he doesn't have a suitcase, but the saddle bags serve the same function. He's never seen a horse that wasn't tied up to a carriage before. Epona is wild, but only to outsiders. Twilight warns him not to get too close. He nearly broke his ribs the first time he tried to ride her back at the farm.

Twilight does not require much at all either - he wears the same clothes, washes them by himself, cooks his own food, puts up the dishes, feeds Epona, and then rests. By resting, obviously, Twilight does not mean sleeping. Reading, of course. Legend is not like that. He always needs to have a different bracelet, a different ring, a different necklace. He has quite the collection of them in his room - which sports two twin beds, perfect for him and Twilight, though the latter would sleep just as contently on the stone floor.

He learns much about Legend and Castle Town in the days before he gets work.

He catalogs them in his journal. 

November 15th, y. 1867

Sunny out today. Legend is working on the sword again. He tells me that he's having some troubles. He never did learn how his uncle did it before he passed away. But I have faith that he will figure it out. Perhaps he will come up with an even better method. He is a bit beaten down by his current failure. I assure him that it is fine, but he does not seem to accept that. 

November 16th, y. 1867

It rained. It poured. We were forced inside until noon. Legend and I stayed inside the bedroom most of the time. It is a quiet place. He teaches me how to play skat. I am apparently a virtuoso. I think I am better at the peg game, or checkers, but Legend does not know how to play either of those. I can't say I expected anything, but it still made me sad. I thought board games were universal.  Legend speaks a lot. It is not a bad thing; I am merely quiet, and feel like I am bothering him if I do not respond to everything. I listen closely. There are many things about Castle Town that I had not read before. It surprises me. The catalog did not come this year for summer, and that upset me, but now I have learned it was because of a war in Castle Town. War. I thought Hylians had learned to be past these things. We have thousands of years of history. I have read much about war in books. I would think people have learned that it does not solve problems by now. Legend agrees. 

He tells me that the war has just recently ended. That is good news, at least. The soldiers will be coming home to their families. I tell him that. Legend says that it's not all great news, because the war depleted all our supplies. Now there is nothing left for the citizens. 

I think the Hyrule Royal Family must be legally stupid.

November 17th, y. 1867

It's foggy today. I hear thunder. But Legend drags me out to a new place all the same. This time we are going to a friend of his, to Styla's. She lives in a big white house with a red roof. It is huge. It leaves a big impression on me. The windows have golden panes. Legend is lucky to have a friend who has such blessings.

There is carpet on the floors. I have never seen carpet before. The floors back home were wood. I thought our rugs were soft. I have been mistaken. I don't know if I can go back to hardwood, having felt this under my feet. Styla is a lady about Legend's height who has hay-colored hair, like Mom. It wraps around in curls like waterfalls over her shoulders. She wears a rose colored, sleeveless dress that seems very poor. She has a bright face. I like Styla. 

Unfortunately, Styla sees that I am wearing the same shirt that I have been wearing for weeks now, and, by putting it in the politest way she can, tells me that I need new clothes. I say that I cannot afford them. Styla does not seem to care about this notion, despite my protests. I thought people were more careful with money here, especially after that war Legend talked about, but apparently, Styla has more money than she knows what to do with.

We argue over what clothes to make for a while. I insist that I can sew my own, but eventually, Styla and Legend settle on making me a vest and a cravat. I do not know what a cravat is. I will not know for a while now, because making them will take about another three days. Despite having not wanted them, I do think that they would look nice on me. 

Legend tells me about Styla as we walk home. They were neighbors as kids, and Styla and his Uncle's business had a partnership, so they became friends. I think it's a nice story.

November 18th, y. 1867

Today is my first day of work at the steel company. It's cloudy. I do not bring Epona with me. The air is even worse here. It'd be bad for her. There is an iron mass ahead of me, it breathes, it moves, unfeeling. It is like a wild animal, but it has no heartbeat, has no soul. All at once I feel incredibly small. Is this where Hyrule is headed? Am I to be spearheading this direction? I cannot question that. I do not have time. Legend needs me, Colin, Rusl and Uli need me. I punch in a card and set to work. It's warm. Very warm. 

I understand very quickly why Legend gets so dirty from blacksmithing. My poor shirt has nearly changed colors. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, is that how the saying goes?

All the same, while the metal is strange to me, I can lift it just as well. I am strong. I must be careful with it, though. I can't get the burning parts near me. I come home around eight, when the sky is dark, just before it starts raining. I should have liked to stay outside and just wash off my clothes in the rain, rather than have Legend see me so exhausted. I regrettably pass out a few minutes after entering. I wake up a few hours later on Legend's couch.

I have officially ruined Legend's couch, and sleep on the floor for the remainder of the night.

November 19th, y. 1867

Cloudy again. It's darker out today. I am getting the hang of work now. The old hands there are teaching me. They are nice fellows - I am only afraid of the boss man. He is taller than me, which is a big statement, considering I surpass some trees in height. I am thinking of taking some of the steel from the factory. It's not right. But Legend would make much better use of it than whatever they're putting it for here. I have not figured out the method yet - I hold off on my escapade. 

I am growing very tired of the smoke. It is bad enough outside. But here it's everywhere. I will be fine, though. I am learning. Maybe there is some way to avoid it. I think that when I go home, I shall take Legend with me. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he sees the flowers for the first time. 

Legend has finished my sword. I find out when I get home. It is the shiniest thing I have ever seen. I am a little scared to try using it again.

November 20th, y. 1867

Scattered rain today. It is my first day off. Legend wakes me up in the middle of a dream about goats at 4 o'clock in the morning and drags me into town. I want to finish the dream about goats. But I am glad to have some time with him. He has seen me writing in my journal, and takes me to a giant building called a library. Books. There are so many books. Legend explains to me how it works.

I have decided that I shall move to the country and become a librarian when I grow up.

November 21st, y. 1867

It clears up today. Styla has finished my clothes. As expected, they are far too nice for me. I am especially worried about getting it dirty at the factory. I wouldn't know a thing about washing this kind of fabric. I reluctantly keep it and try it on later. It fits extraordinarily well. I think about giving it to Colin when he gets older. He was always looking forward to new clothes. Legend shows me how to tie the thing that I have forgotten how to spell. I look…..fluffy, somehow. 

I am busy with reading today. I have checked out too many books for my own good, and since I get home late and I am tired, I do not have any time to read them except for now. I finished the first today. There are two more. I think I must be possessed. I have never read this quickly before. Legend does not know exactly what to do with me once I'm occupied, so he goes to make bracelets again. I think he's trying to make one for me, but he wants it to be a surprise, so he hasn't measured my wrist. Unfortunately, this also means he has no idea how big it should be, and has several failed attempts. 

…. I don't think he's noticed that I've seen him working on it. 

November 22nd, y. 1867

Sunny today, and I am back to work. I forget how much I enjoy laying around and reading at Legend's house until I have to go back to work again. It is a starting jump in activity. I think I must exercise more on my days off. My back is aching. Usually that would call for an Epona joyride, but there are no open fields here. It's a shame. 

I cut my hand today. I was careless. Legend freaks out when I return home. He does not know about the times I have broken my bones trying to tame Epona. I think it best not to tell him about those, considering his reaction to a tiny scrape. I got home early today because I finished up my quota quickly. I am eager to continue with my books. I cook for Legend too. He has apparently never had pumpkin soup, which is a travesty. I am lucky that I brought some preserves with me. Wait 'till he tries pecan pie. That would be a sight and a half. 

November 23rd, y. 1867

It's windy out today. My hand is healing nicely. I have always been quick to get back up again. Legend is worried, though. I have not been sleeping much. I don't know why. I always got sleep back on the farm. It must be nerves. This place is scary. I'm gonna get out of here soon, and take Legend with me. He deserves to see the world - how it really is, with all its beautiful flowers and grasses and plants. That is, if I can ever get him to ride a horse. I think I have accidentally scared him about all horses by telling him about Epona. There are those new machines, the steam engines. You can use those to get around too. I don't think it could do much better than Epona, though. No steel can outdo her.

Work is uneventful as always. I'm starting to get fed up with it. It's not that I'm incapable of the task, it's just that it's always difficult. At home, there would be different jobs everyday. I was usually the one doing most of the hard work, but I would get to clean the house or cook often. Here, though, it's always the same thing. Power the blast furnace, protect the merchandise. It is easy to learn, and yet, it is tiring. I can persevere, though. I always have. 

In the autumn months, I would usually expect dried leaves to line the fields as far as the eye could see. I have not come across a single one in the city. I am still wondering how they get by without their trees. Instead, the shades of red that streak the sky are from the burning plumes of the factories. How strange, that this phenomenon can be man-made as well. I like the leaves better, though. 

When I get home, Legend talks to me again about the war. He explains why it started, the fighting, how it ended. It is tragic. I tell him that he seems to know a lot about the war for someone he isn't a soldier. And that starts him on another story. I will recount it here.

When Legend was still under his uncle's mentorship, they manufactured weapons for the army. Mainly swords. They had to stay at the base camp for quite some time while they completed their work. In that period, Legend came to know a lot of the soldiers, but became friends with one in particular. First Sergeant Wayne. I remember his name well. Legend tells me that they also share the first name "Link", but that nobody goes by their first names in the army, so it never really mattered. It's becoming somewhat of a pattern that I hear about people who share my name.

Wayne was from a military family, and learned swordplay very young. He was forced to join the army as soon as he was able, and quickly rose through the ranks. When the war started, he battled under General Impa, leading most of the infantry charges. Despite everything, the poor fellow was only twenty. He must be a year older by now. He was a kid just like Legend, really. He said he always wanted to see the world on new frontiers, but he never meant it to be as a conqueror. Legend said that Wayne taught him some of his favorite jokes. So that's where he got his sense of humor from.

Unfortunately, last he heard, he was listed as missing in action. He probably bit the bullet at some point. But Legend thinks he's still out there. He seems like a brave man. It's not impossible that he could still be kicking somewhere. 

I have much to think about when I go to bed tonight. I go another day without sleeping.

November 24th, y. 1867

The wind is really picking up. Somehow, my business doesn't close. It could be a real dust bowl coming up. I hope it's not like that. I did well at work today. I was nervous that I might not get out in time before it started getting bad, so I rushed a bit. My plan to steal Legend some material is ruined - it was supposed to happen today, but I had completely forgotten because of my nerves. Blasted weather.

Legend is not home when I return from work. I just about lose my mind. He is out doing something that is bound to get himself killed, I think, and pace around for a while. At some point I pass out. Early in the morning, he's back. Legend is strange.

November 25th, y. 1867

The wind is still going strong. I believe Legend is hiding something from me. Maybe it's about the bracelet. He somehow still thinks that it's a surprise and that I haven't seen him working on it. I say nothing, because I am bad at speaking. He has a funny grin on his face. I am deathly curious. 

I am stronger today at work. The month is nearing its end, and I have barely had a week's pay. Still, the money is good, and I am determined to get more of it to support Legend and my family. I fulfill the quota quickly, and am excited to get home and rest, but I wish they would let me try overtime. Maybe then I could get us both something extra. We've been living off bare minimum here for a while now. Castle Town has always been described as the "land of opportunity". I don't believe it.

Legend teaches me how to pick locks today. I refuse the skill at first - I am never going to have a need to break into someone's house - but Legend says that we might need it to get into Styla's place if the officers are ever after us. I suppose that is a good reason. But I still do not want to break into a house, especially if it is Styla's.  I am a quick study, and I understand locks fast. They are interesting little contraptions, but very ineffective, apparently, since Legend has figured out at least 20 ways to crack one open. In the end, I find the whole thing a little silly. 

L.T.W.

Chapter Text

Time is running out.

But Twilight is determined to keep Legend's home in his possession.

He doesn't come home on time one night. Legend has begun waiting for him by the window, but he never passes by. Twilight takes a long walk throughout Castle Town's West Road - which notably contains houses of the nobility. When he finally returns, the sun is rising, and Legend is still asleep. He quietly shifts the gold quantity under his bed - the landlord's money doesn't have to be entirely honest, does it?

Legend decides that since Twilight is going to run a risk, they need a safety net. On his day off, he takes him to the biggest religious center in Hyrule - The Golden Goddesses Monastery. He doesn't understand why. Twilight has never really believed in the Gods before, not as anything more than fairy tales. But when he sees the giant stone structure before them, a castle in its own right, it somewhat changes his mind. They must be really important to the people of Castle Town. He bares that in mind and holds his tongue as he enters, holding onto Legend's hand. 

The area inside is perhaps even larger than it seemed on the outside - giant wooden arches in the area up above that line it like a ribcage, hanging chandeliers and lanterns, and stained red glass windows that feel like roses or blood ( Twilight can't decide which). Is this a church, or a palace? They clearly spared no expense. It's not the day of worship, so the place is a ghost town. It makes it even more confusing to him. Spirits reside here, he's sure of it, but when he focuses on them, they disappear. He can almost hear their voices. Is that the sound of a god?

Legend's hand grounds him as they walk past rows of empty pews to make their way upward to a pedestal. 

There is an old man with receding gray hair and eyes of stone, who Legend quickly bows to and introduces as "Father Auru.". Father? That doesn't make any sense. Legend doesn't know his parents. He'll have to go with it for now. Twilight matches Legend's bow and then they are both given the signal to rise. "Well, Schmidt, you're a surprise. And who is this, your captive? He looks a little forced." Auru chuckles before turning to Twilight,  who automatically freezes in place. "Nope, this is my friend, Twi! He's just always like that inside a new place." Is he, Legend? You could've told him about that before he made a living fool out of himself.

"A new place? You've never been here before?" Auru blinks in surprise. Is that really such a shocking thing to say? "I am Auru, the pastor here. Have you two come here for a confessional?" His smile is reassuring, at the least. So he's the one in charge. That must be why Legend called him that. "Not necessarily. I just wanted Twi to know the place, in case he ever needed somewhere to run to." Legend shrugs. "....I do hope you haven't dragged him into your criminal activity, Schmidt." And Twilight freezes again, because that's exactly what's happened. He's too honest for his own good.

"Come along. I shall show you around the monastery." Auru steps off the pedestal and heads to a large oak door on the right. They are led into a hallway with tons of stained glass windows, each depicting a different Saint or God. Auru introduces them each.

On the far left is an image of Nayru, the Goddess of Wisdom. The bottom left piece of the Triforce symbol is darkened, showing which one she created. A lady with long, curly blue hair sits with her eyes turned from them in the glass, holding a harp. Her dress flows outward towards the bottom of the window and forms the vast ocean. Fairies surround her. 

In the middle is an image of Din, the Goddess of Power. The top piece of the Triforce symbol is darkened. She is a young woman in dancer's attire, who holds a searing flame in her hands. The earth and the mountains are below her, dyed a deep red. She seems very brave.

And on the right is an image of Farore, the Goddess of Courage. The bottom right piece of the Triforce symbol is darkened. Here is a young girl with short, green hair, with her eyes turned skyward and her hands outstretched to catch a bird in the breeze. Where her feet touch the ground, flowers sprout from the grass, and animals fill the sky around her. He feels strangely connected to this one. His hand seems sweaty, but that's probably from just the scale of all of these. Why does he feel like something is burning?

Then they come to the tapestry depicting Hylia and Demise in their fight for Hyrule. On each side are their supporters, Hylia's being the Saints, and Demise's being the Demon Tribe. The closest to Hylia is Impaz, then Faron, Eldin, Lanayru, and Ordona, the Light Spirits. He doesn't care to look on Demise's side. His own tapestry scared him enough. 

Then they come to a little room at the end of the winding hall, where Auru stops. He explains it as a private prayer room, and asks if they have anything they'd like to ask of the Goddess Hylia. Auru shows him how. You raise your head skyward, to the Goddesses' domain, and clasp your hands together, closing your eyes. Twilight sends a wish for his family's protection. You don't have to say anything out loud, since the Goddesses hear all. 

He feels strange. This place is scary, but safe. The world outside is chaotic and familiar, but it is dangerous. In here it is all new, but it is quiet and calm, like a gentle shroud over him. They say their goodbyes to Auru. He shall come here more often, he thinks.

Before they leave, Auru tells them to say hello to his friend Telma, who owns the tavern on the South Road. He explains that they'll meet some good allies there. Twilight smiles. Perhaps it was a good idea to come here after all.