The ceiling of Telma’s bar was low and the air seemed perpetually filled with smoke. Patrons were drinking ale or eating simple food with a few companions.

Telma herself was wiping glasses and mugs from behind her massive counter, chatting all the while with a patron who was telling her of his children’s games. Her motherly eyes raised to check whom the new customers happened to be; her round face stretched into a smile.

Link made his way around the tables and leaned against the counter. Telma smiled charmingly. She was well liked, in spite of her flirtatious attitude, because when she wasn’t blowing kisses, she was protective and maternal. Link knew better than to take her advances seriously, so he often teased back.

“Why,” Telma said, making no effort to disguise how glad she was, “if it isn’t Link. How are you doing, honey?”

“Well enough,” the hero said. Colin and Talo flanked him, taking in the layout of the establishment. Telma noticed and examined them approvingly, her eyes darting over them the same they’d first looked at Link four years ago.

“And the children aren’t children anymore,” she said vaguely but with a benevolent smile. Then, winking at Colin, she added, “You’ve grown some muscles, sweetie.” She blew Talo a tiny kiss.

Colin, suddenly self-conscious, looked at his sleeveless arms and felt his face flush a deep red colour. It was true that wrangling and sword practice had shaped him nicely for his age, but in his small hometown, nobody had even taken notice. He glanced at Talo and noticed that the brown-haired boy was standing straighter, his cheeks tinged with pink and pride.

Telma, perfectly aware of the effect her words were having, leaned towards them. “The last time I saw you boys, you barely reached my hip it seems. And now you’re as tall as me, if not more. And you’ve grown handsome too.” She winked again. Her sooty eyes then turned to look at Link, who was holding back a smile, amused as he was by the flattery she was directing at boys who hardly ever got it. “Oh, Link, I must say, you aren’t a disappointment either. Why, a woman would probably―”

“Telma,” Link hissed in warning, suddenly, his face flushing as well.

Telma, satisfied with her victory for now, turned back to being motherly. “Your drinks are on the house, honey.”

Colin shot her a shy smile, and Talo’s eyes widened with enthusiasm. Link kept himself in check, though. “You’re sure? … Thank you, Telma.”

“It’s no trouble,” she said, surveying her half-full bar. “This Hyrule Summit thing is even better for business than it is for politics. You’d think the Midwinter festival would get tourists riled up, but apparently it’s more lucrative to rely on the carnivals that happen ‘round this time of year. So,” she continued, “what can I get you boys?”

Colin and Talo, hardly able to believe that they might finally get their first pint of ale, turned to Link with hope in their eyes. Link grinned and shrugged lightly, then ordered, “Three pints, Telma.”

Talo couldn’t hold in his yelp of joy. He jumped and punched Colin chummily. Even Colin, who by nature wasn’t the kind to look forward to such things, felt like grinning broadly.

Both Telma and Link couldn’t hold in their smiles.

“We’d also like to rent two rooms,” Link said. “You still have free rooms, don’t you?”

“I do,” Telma said, placing three pints on the counter in front of them. She wiped her hands on her apron then reached under the counter for two keys. “Adjacent rooms,” she noted in a reservation book. She looked up. “For two nights? That’ll be a hundred and fifty rupees, honey.”

Link sighed and handed her the exact amount, then took a long sip of his pint of ale. Colin and Talo, on their part, were delighting themselves simply with the idea of drinking a grown man’s brew. The taste, though, wasn’t nearly as pleasant. They didn’t care much. Link slipped them a key.

“You’ll be sharing, alright, boys?”

“Sharing?” Talo repeated. “While you get your own room?” He turned to Telma. “Why does he get his own room?”

Link gave Talo a friendly shove. “Because I’m paying for your room, that’s why.”

Suitably chastised, Talo calmed down sheepishly and apologized. Link merely ruffled his hair. There was something about the relationship between the boys and the hero that resembled brotherhood, and it was comforting for the three of them.

The door opened and closed. Telma’s eyes rose. “Eh, Purlo,” she called to the newcomer, “Fancy seeing you around here at this time of day!”

Colin wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Link grow tense for a split-second then relax again. The one Telma had called out to ―Purlo― was an entertainer dressed in green. He seemed to be in a good mood. “I’m here to celebrate, Telma,” he said as he sat next to Colin on a stool.

“You don’t say,” the barkeep answered, clearly making idle conversation. “What, you’ve made a ‘killing’ off travellers?” She was obviously borrowing the entertainer’s words.

Purlo nodded and smirked. “My S.T.A.R. game has paid off. I’m rich enough to ask Agitha’s hand in marriage if I so please.”

The name was familiar to Colin. Link had once mentioned that Agitha was a slightly delusional Castle Town inhabitant whose love of bugs made her only too willing to part with her rupees. She was known to be one of the richest citizens of Hyrule after the royal family.

Telma’s face seemed disapproving for the barest fraction of a second, before turning back to a friendlier warning expression. “That might be tough. The girl is much younger than you, and though she’s a little deluded she has fans.”

Colin could feel that Telma had a problem with the age difference more than anything else, in spite of how she dissimulated her personal opinion. There was no reason to upset a patron though, as he might stop buying.

Purlo shrugged. He clearly had no firm intention of really marrying Agitha. “I suppose,” he said. “But I’m rich, that’s all that matters. Ever since that so-called hero ―what was his name? Rinku? ―anyway, ever since that guy left town, I’ve been doing nothing but honest and prosper business. By honest and prosper,” he said, smirking, “I mean that no one has managed to win anything since that one superstar.” He spoke the term risibly, as though he could hardly believe that the townspeople could fall for the obvious marketing tactic.

Telma smiled. She placed a bock of ale in front of the entertainer. “You mentioned his name was Rinku?”

“Or something like that, yeah.” Purlo casually took a sip of his ale.

“You wouldn’t happen to mean ‘Link’? As in,” she motioned to the hero on Colin’s other side as the young man tried to hide his face with his mug, “this Link?”

Purlo leaned over to examine Link’s face, and the hero shot Telma a flat, slightly annoyed look, one that clearly said, ‘Thank you. Really.’

The barkeep shrugged as Purlo suddenly let out an anguished scream. He backed away and many patrons looked up from their conversations.

“You!” He exclaimed, pointing at the blonde young hero in terror, “You’re ―you’re…!”

“Don’t scream, Purlo,” Link said, bringing his pint of ale to his lips. “You’re scaring the customers.”

“You,” the entertained hissed acidly, “nearly put me out of business four years ago!”

“It’s not my fault your game was so easy,” the hero said guilelessly.

“Easy?” The entertainer repeated incredulously. “No one has succeeded since!”

“Well then,” Link smirked, getting off from his stool, still holding his pint, “it’s not my fault I’m so talented.” Before Purlo could splutter an answer, Link turned to Telma and asked, “Are the others in the back?”

“Behind the curtain,” Telma answered detachedly, nodding at a thick, dusty, decorated drape that was drawn over what Colin assumed to be a rather sizeable alcove in the back of the bar.

“Alright, come on boys,” Link said, and Colin and Talo hurried to obey, as Purlo looked ready to kill. Link pulled a corner of the curtain to let them slip behind it.

The first thing Colin noticed was how quiet things seemed behind here. The air wasn’t as smoky either. There was a single table around which six chairs were strewn disorderly. The only people here were a young man and a young woman who were surprisingly quiet. They seemed to be around Link’s age. The woman wore light armour, and was shooting darts at a target, her heavily circled eyes looking bored, though it was probable that this was her usual expression. The young man was reading a book, looking quite absorbed, as though he were studying ancient history.

Thok! Another dart entered the target dead centre. The man turned a page, but then looked up when Link stepped forward with a smile. The scholar’s eyes grew a bit wider behind his delicate gold-rimmed glasses.

“Link!” His voice was mild, controlled, and his accents still let his level of education show. “How unexpected!”

“Shad,” Link responded in greeting, then nodded at the young woman, “Ashei.”

At that moment, Purlo’s voice, from beyond the drapes, called, “Damn you, Link!”

Link smirked and pulled himself a chair. “Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain.”

“I say,” Shad continued, “I didn’t think you’d show up before tomorrow.”

“I’m showing the city to the bumpkins,” Link teased, ruffling Talo’s hair as the boy scowled.

“Bumpkin yourself.”

“Showing the city…” Ashei said, and her voice was deep, warrior-like, “or letting them get lost in the streets like you did when you first came here?”

Link chuckled. “A bit of both.” He shot Colin a grin then took a long sip of his ale. “And you two? I saw Auru on the way here, but we didn’t catch up on anything.”

Shad put his book down, pressed his glasses higher on the bridge of his nose, and looked slightly embarrassed. “Well, I… uh… we…”

Ashei, hardly the kind to bother with formalities, said, rather flatly, “Shad and I have been considering a trip to Snowpeak.”

“Shad and you,” Link repeated slowly, and very gradually his brow raised and his lips stretched. “Just Shad and you?”

Ashei rolled her eyes. “You’re not invited, if that’s what you want to know.”

Shad’s face has ripened in the past five seconds. Link would not pass it up.

“Oh,” he teased, “This is one of those initiatory excursions that end up with the traditional cuddle-by-the-warm-fire denouement,” he insinuatingly hooted.

At this Shad, still thoroughly embarrassed, stood and said, defensively, “It’s not like that at all. It’s only that I’ve been telling Ashei about my researches on the Oocca―”

“Again.”

“And ―yes, again, Link, it was my father’s fundamental research so yes, will you please stop teasing me about it? ― she supposed that we could probably find more information in the ruins of a fort far in the Snowpeak province. Rumour has it the place had a rather extensive library before it was abandoned and left to the cold.”

Colin glanced at Link, because the young hero had suddenly grown a little tense.

“Is that so?” The question was too offhand to be uninterested. Colin suspected that either Link knew something about these ruins or he was devoured by the need to go explore them.

“The building itself is at a week’s distance from Zora’s Domain, climbing and hiking in the snow,” Ashei said. “It’s nearly inaccessible, with the road leading to it now completely untraceable or the rock formations otherwise collapsed. It’s a risky trip, but I’ve done it once before.”

Link’s voice had lost his amusement when he asked, very seriously, “Have you ever heard about Yeto and Yeta?”

Shad looked a little confused, but Ashei met Link’s serious look with her usual blank expression.

“The snow beasts?” She asked. Link seemed surprised that she knew what he was talking about, but she continued, “Yeah, I encountered Yeto six months back. I’ve been sending him fish and other provisions for a while now, though I typically don’t venture further than the ice lake.”

This seemed to relieve Link. “So you know they exist. Good. Wouldn’t do good to give anyone any nasty surprises.” He glanced at Shad, who still seemed a little confused. He nodded at the scholar. “Does he know?”

“Yeah,” Ashei said, still as detachedly. “But even snow beasts don’t scare him. All he cares about are his Oocca things.”

“They’re not things,” Shad said patiently. “And I’ve been to Celestia already.”

“Celestia?” This time, it was Link’s turn to look confused.

“The city in the sky. Auru reported that there was a cannon in lower Lake Hylia, and upon closer inspection, I realised it was the cannon we found together four years ago. Remember?”

“Yeah. I had it fixed at an astronomical sum,” Link said, grinning.

“So,” Shad said, a little bit accusingly, “you knew that it was directly aimed at Celestia? That all this time the sky city of the Oocca was so easily accessible?”

“I did…” Link winced at Shad’s dark glare. “But I was in a hurry and I couldn’t share the information with you at the time.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the scholar said, waving it off. “Anyhow,” he said, “I’ve been helping the Oocca repair the damage some dragon apparently wreaked on their city. You wouldn’t believe their technological advances. Everything is so smooth and the air is so clear. I’ve resolved to research their technology, write a report, and present it to the princess. But for that I need more mechanical and practical essays―”

“In short,” Ashei interrupted, cutting Shad’s long-winded explanation, causing the good-looking scholar to look comically downcast, “he wants to find more archives. And who’re the kids?”

Link turned to Colin and Talo. “Well, Shad might have met them already. They were in Kakariko at the time where we were researching the sky script. They’re Colin and Talo. Colin is Rusl’s son. Boys, this is Shad and Ashei.”

“Have you told them about the Oocca?” Shad asked, and before Talo could foolishly reply by the negative, Link nodded.

“I did. They know all about them.”

Shad nodded approvingly then seemed to be struck with a thought, “You mentioned… How is good old Rusl doing?”

Link glanced at Colin, who smiled.

“He’s staying with my mother and Aryll. He doesn’t want to stray too far, just in case.”

Shad nodded. “I can understand that.” He glanced at Ashei, then said, “So you fellows are here as Ordona representatives?”

“That’s right.” Link took another sip of his ale. “We have to announce our arrival for tomorrow, but I was wondering if you could quickly give me a break-down of any other diplomatic news I might have missed in the past few months…?”

Talo yawned, and Colin too felt boredom take over. Link glanced over at them, and his face softened into understanding.

“Boys,” he said and they looked up, “why don’t you go scout out the city? Just make sure to be back here around seven for a quick dinner, all right? Here.” He handed them both fifty rupees, then nodded them off.

With gratitude and large excited grins, they took off. They lifted the curtain and walked out, smiling at Telma.

“Don’t get lost now, sweethearts.”

“We won’t, Telma,” Talo said. “I have a great sense of direction.”

They got lost.

It wasn’t entirely their fault, to be fair, Colin mused as he sat for a breather on the side of the central fountain, trying to remember where Telma’s bar was located from here. Their enthusiasm had carried them away as they’d tried to explore every shop and stall they could find. So now, at his side, Talo was sulkily throwing tiny rocks into the fountain, trying to hit the statue in the centre or make interesting splash patterns.

At least, Colin considered, they’d managed to get through the afternoon without getting into a fight. The city was too big and impressive and there were too many things to see for them to concentrate on their usual competitiveness anyway.

The sun was quickly setting, and it cast the city in beautiful, peaceful orange light. He watched as the townsfolk continued their harried pace. He was breathless just looking at them.

“So what now?” Talo asked, sitting on the side of the fountain next to Colin. He was restless. Where the city tired Colin, it made Talo overactive, and it ultimately exhausted both of them.

“Well, Telma’s bar is in the southern thoroughfare, so…” He looked back at the tall castle towers behind them. The castle was north; that much he knew. He then turned back to look at the wall of buildings around the plaza, and vaguely indicated the great mass of rooftops and lively alleys opposite of them, “It’s somewhere in that direction.”

Talo let out a loud sigh. “That’s a bother.”

“It is,” Colin nodded.

They fell silent. Behind them, the fountain kept on gurgling. The people continued to walk. The clock tower struck six times.

They’d visited plenty of shops. They’d gotten their fortune told ―and decided that it was a load of goat dung― and they’d met with Agitha, the bug princess. They’d tried out target shooting in a game stall. They’d visited Malo Mart, and Talo had gotten a free baby Bombling as a gift from Malver, the store’s manager, simply because he was Malo’s older brother. The two boys had then had to fight their way out of the store because Talo had nearly gotten mobbed by dancing, over-enthusiastic Malo fans.

They’d burst out onto the plaza, laughing and breathless, and soon afterwards realised that they had no idea which street to take in order to reach Telma’s bar again.

So they sat on the fountain side, bummed out. The baby Bombling was scurrying around in Talo’s hands.

“Colin? Talo?”

Colin looked up when he heard his name being called.

And he froze.

“Luda?” Talo’s memory was commendable, though it wasn’t enough for them to find their way around town.

The Kakariko shaman’s daughter was smiling. They hadn’t seen her in four years.

It was amazing what four years could do to a girl, Colin thought, feeling himself flush in embarrassment. It had made her previously boyish figure turn into a shapely, earth-coloured beauty. Her pitch-black hair had grown long, and she kept it in a multitude of braids, as her father Renado did. She wore a long, adjusted tunic, decorated with traditional Kakariko embroidery, over a pair of very short pants. Her thighs disappeared near the knee in long decorated boots. She was carrying a small pouch of belongings, as though she also had arrived in Castle Town recently.

“What are you boys doing here?” She asked, smiling gladly, revealing a row of pearly white teeth.

“Ah… um…”

“Resting,” Talo said, nudging Colin to get his act together. They weren’t exactly ashamed of being lost, but they still weren’t eager to announce it publicly.

“Resting…?” Luda dropped her pack at her feet, looking down at them. She laughed a little, and the sound was deep, somewhat womanly. “Oh, I meant, what are you doing in Castle Town?”

“We’re here to represent the Ordona province,” Colin said, glad that they weren’t exploring more specific matters.

Luda’s deep brown eyes were approving, and she looked at them with renewed interest. “Just the two of you?”

“Well,” Colin said, smiling sheepishly, “Link is with us too.”

Luda smiled. “I see. Where is he?”

Talo, alarmed that the conversation might stray towards the hero again, chose to say, “Never mind that. What are you doing here?”

Colin didn’t say anything, but he was glad that Talo had made that decision. He couldn’t remember liking a girl’s voice that much, and the thought was both interesting and mortifying.

Luda sat between them, causing both boys to flush ―they weren’t accustomed to girls their own age, and for the first time the realisation struck home― and declared, “Kakariko Village needed a representative, and father is too busy managing the new villagers’ arrival.”

“Kakariko Village?” Colin blinked in curiosity. “Aren’t you supposed to represent the whole province of Eldin?”

Luda shook her head. “Eldin is too vast for that. I’m the representative of Kakariko, and the Gorons are represented by Darbus.”

The boys fell silent in contemplation. Warily, Talo glanced around, trying to spot the hulking rocky mass of the Goron patriarch in the crowd. Luda giggled a little.

“He came ahead of time and he’s staying somewhere in the castle gardens.”

“Oh.”

Colin couldn’t help but feel that there was something about their companionship to Luda that had shifted. Unable to remain seated, Talo stood again. His Bombling fell at Luda’s feet, and the girl’s eyebrows raised. She reached down to take a hold of the scurrying critter before it could get away.

“A baby Bombling?” She asked, smiling. “Barnes did tell me that they didn’t acquire explosive properties before maturity, but I hadn’t imagined ever seeing a real one.”

Talo looked a little annoyed, and he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, well, Malver gave it to me, and I don’t know what I’d do with it back in Ordon.”

“It’s true it’d be better off in Kakariko with its kind,” Luda wisely said. “Though I did hear that a small colony of Bomblings made up the fauna of the Faron province.”

Talo scowled. “I don’t know…” He glanced at Colin, who until then had made no comment, unsure of how they’d turn the conversation away from the admittedly boring subject of fauna. Struck with an idea, Talo said, “I don’t think I’d be good keeping it for that long. It would make parting with it too hard.”

Luda smiled gently. “I guess that’s true.”

When Talo made another eye contact with Colin, the blonde boy spoke up. “Maybe you should keep it, Luda.”

Luda’s dark eyes lit up. She was generally soft-spoken, but seeing her face become so hopeful made the boys eager to please her. Talo stepped in front of her, and Colin was suddenly aware that Luda was now shorter than both of them, and not only because she was sitting. Years away from people his age had made him rather oblivious to how tall he’d grown and how square his shoulders had become.

“I could?” Luda asked, still as controlled, but there was no mistaking her enthusiasm.

“Sure, whatever,” Talo said, shrugging it off. He wasn’t comfortable around girls and hardly knew how to behave with them, but Colin noticed that he was looking at Luda rather tenderly, in spite of his detached scowl.

Something struck Colin ―Talo was interested in Luda, by Ordona― and he was suddenly eager to have his share of the girl’s attentions.

“How have things been in Kakariko?” He asked, and the girl ―or, he amended, the young woman― turned to smile at him.

“Quite well,” she answered. “People are repopulating it. City dwellers have come to appreciate the calm and move away from the bustle of Castle Town. A nice innkeeper renovated the hotel, and Gor Ebizo runs Malo’s shop. Barnes has been making wild profit selling bombs to those who wish to make more room in the canyon to build more houses. And Impaz ―she’s a Sheikah descendant that used to live in the Hidden Village, an acquaintance of Link and Ilia’s― has bought one of the houses across the inn.”

“So,” Colin said, smiling, “your hands must be full.”

Luda nodded. “But I came here to give that report to the princess on father’s behalf.” She looked up, and her face brightened. “Is that Link over there?”

Colin and Talo turned. Link was coming from the western thoroughfare, lost in thought. He looked absolutely lost in some sort of melancholic musing, his typical smile completely absent from his features. The hero’s blue eyes looked up at the castle towers, and with the sunset light hitting him obliquely, he looked fully unlike himself, to the point that Colin had to blink to make sure he was indeed staring at the Ordon hero.

“What’s wrong with him?” Talo asked, troubled by Link’s visible and uncharacteristic mood change.

“I don’t know,” Colin answered.

“He looks so lonely,” Luda said, her voice soft and through which permeated sadness. The boys had very momentarily forgotten about her, but when her words sunk in, they turned back to look at the hero, who was now standing immobile amidst the crowd, getting brushed and shoved from time to time, but seemingly not noticing it.

In the orange glow of sunset, where the shadows were at their longest, with the fading warmth of day, Link looked so forlorn that the image shook the boys to their core.

“I’ve never seen him like this,” Luda said.

Talo’s eyes were wide, and Colin knew that he too felt the sudden impact the picture had on him. “What’s… what is wrong with him? Did something happen?” He asked again.

Link wasn’t supposed to be like this. It made no sense. Link had always, throughout their young lives, seemed infallible and cheerful. Nothing gave them more courage than looking upon the hero, confident that if Link was strong, they had something to look forward to. Link did not falter or give up; Link was always in a good mood and selfless.

So why did he look so vulnerable as he looked upon the high towers?

Then, Link started walking, and his pace was resolute. Without consulting one another, the three young travellers knew they had to follow him. Luda carefully picked up the Bombling and placed it in an empty pouch on her belt.

They ran around the circular fountain and fell into step at a safe distance behind the hero. He passed under the large castle archway, and up the broad steps. Here too, people bustled. There was a short line of travellers waiting to talk to a man at a temporary table. Link passed in front of all of them, and before anyone could protest, placed a slip of paper on the table with a smile. He raised both hands to the people in line, indicating that he meant no more urgent business and wouldn’t hold them up.

His usual smile was back.

The man at the table opened the folded paper and his eyes skimmed over the writing. Before Link could walk away, he called to him.

“Hey, sir! You’re Sir Link of Ordona?”

Link turned, a little surprised. The man outstretched a sealed envelope to the hero. From afar, it was difficult to make out, but Colin was confident that it was marked with the royal phoenix emblem. Link didn’t, however, open it in front of a crowd of suddenly curious onlookers, choosing to pocket it instead. Colin deduced that no one else had received royal communiqués all day.

“What’s in the letter?” Talo asked, mostly to himself, since obviously neither of his companions had a clue.

Luda glanced between the two boys.

Colin smirked. “I don’t know. Yet. We’ll find out, though. For now,” He motioned to the two to follow him, “let’s lay low and pretend nothing’s out of place. And Luda, hold onto that Bombling, alright?”

“What are you planning?” Talo asked, mildly annoyed but helplessly curious, as they walked out of their previous hiding spot and followed Colin as the blonde boy made his way to the hero, who was walking back towards the plaza.

“I’ll tell you later. Come on… Link!”

When he heard his name being called, the twenty-two year-old turned, and his face stretched into a genuine smile. It was hard to imagine that just moments ago, he had looked so frighteningly downcast.

“Colin, Talo. Luda?” He shot the girl a greeting smile. “Here on your father’s behalf, I suppose?”

Luda nodded.

“And what have you boys been up to all day?” Link asked.

Before Talo could reply, Colin shrugged and said, “Exploring the city. Are you going back to the bar?”

Link nodded. “Yep. I’m done with my errands for the day. I signed us up for the Summit.” He jutted a thumb in the direction of the castle. “So we’re free to have supper and turn in early. It’s been a long day.”

It was hard to pretend that they hadn’t witnessed Link’s moment of weakness earlier, and the boys had trouble to figure out how to cope with their shattered image of a hero. Still, the notion that they weren’t lost anymore was enough to keep their smiles on their faces.

“You coming with us, Luda?” Link asked, politely, out of respect for the fact that she was Renado’s daughter.

“If it’s no trouble,” Luda calmly replied, not missing Colin and Talo’s eager looks from behind Link’s back.

“Of course not,” Link said, waving it off. “I’m sure you’ve plenty of news to share.”

And so, while Luda was helping Link catch up on Kakariko news ―something that interested the hero much more than it interested the boys in light of the fact that he knew more people and facts about the world― Talo and Colin trailed behind, just out of earshot.

“What’s your plan?” The chestnut-haired apprentice asked.

“We want to get an eye on that letter,” Colin said, keeping his voice low. “But we have to wait until we’re sure that Link has already broken the seal on it.”

“You think the princess sent it?”

Colin shook his head. “I don’t know.” His eyes fell on Luda’s back, and he felt his face flush. “But I’m sure glad she chose to come with us.”

Talo shot the blonde apprentice a dirty look. “What does that have to do with anything? You’re trying to get a head start on her or something?” There was no mistaking his suspicious jealousy. It was unfortunate; they’d gotten another reason to bicker.

“Yes, well, no―” Colin did his best to control his embarrassment, and said, “that’s not what I meant. We’re going to need the baby Bombling.”

“I’m sure that’s all you meant,” Talo said, sarcastic and aggressive. “Because you weren’t giving her the kind of look my dad gives my mum.”

Colin couldn’t help it. He slugged Talo. Soon, the boys were rolling on the pavement, exchanging kicks and punches, as street urchins cheered them on. They weren’t quite serious; they often fought without more results than a few bruises and scratches, but in the weakened daylight, as men passed in the streets to light the city’s torches, they couldn’t help but brawl. They’d held back all day, and there was just a limit to their reciprocated civility.

Their match was short-lived. Soon, Link had them both by the scruff of their shirts, looking mildly exasperated and also quite amused. Luda, on her part, looked a little surprised, unsure of what could have caused their sudden fight.

“Isn’t there a way for you two to behave?” Link asked, not really expecting them to reply.

“You really want an answer to that?” Talo, grinning, asked, wiping the corner of his mouth with his wrist, looking at Colin without malice, only with the thrill of spending energy on pointless fights making his eyes shine.

Colin returned the smirk, breaking away from Link’s stern hold. “I was just giving him what was coming to him.”

Talo, laughing, raised a fist in warning, “Watch it, blondie!”

“Pint-size.”

“Cubs,” Link said, letting them get back to their argument, raising his eyes to the darkening sky helplessly. “You boys remind me of wolf cubs.”

“Wolves are cool,” Talo remarked, and Link shook his head, his eyes secretly amused, before turning his attention back to Luda’s report.

Soon, they were sitting in Telma’s bar again, around the table behind the curtain. Shad, Ashei and Auru were already there, and they greeted the shaman Renado’s daughter with the respect she was due.

The meal was plentiful, and they were reaching the dessert, all in a full-blown conversation about horse riding and archery, when Telma pushed the curtain aside and interrupted them.

“Hey, everyone, look at who came for a visit.”

Colin turned and Link stood. A Zora boy, the one Link and Renado had rescued four years ago, was standing before them. Of the Zora child, though, nothing remained: this one was now a Prince of his people, and he’d at some point grown into an adult Zora’s body, which he now covered with light, water worn decorated cloth. He was their age, though, so Colin assumed that Zoras merely matured faster than humans.

“Prince Ralis!” Link said, welcoming and particularly glad to see the Zora. The young royal stood as tall as the hero, and they gave one another friendly claps on the back, standing at a respectful distance from one another. “Healthier than ever, I see!”

Ralis nodded. He was far more solemn and respectable now, but when he noticed Colin, Talo and Luda, all his seriousness melted away and turned into joy.

“Colin, Luda, Talo!” He grinned at the three youths, his bare feet light and soundless on the floor, as he got closer. “I’ve wondered how you were!”

It was peculiar, Colin mused, to be considered a friend of royalty, but he found it wasn’t an unpleasant concept. As a result, he smiled and embraced his old friend. He didn’t know whether it was the right behaviour for a prince, but he didn’t care much. The prince’s cold, slippery, scaled skin pulsed like his own, and the embrace was returned with much gratitude.

“How have you been, Ralis?” Luda asked, not bothering with formalities. This didn’t seem to bother the prince, who remembered only too well how they had saved his life four years ago.

“Very good,” he answered earnestly. “I’m here as an emissary for the Zora people. We’re doing great efforts to rebuild open trade routes with the rest of Hyrule, and so far it’s been going quite well.”

The group, therefore, continued its conversation without awkwardness. Even having a prince and a hero in their circle didn’t seem to faze anyone. Colin was glad for it. He could hardly remember being so welcome in a band of adults.

“So,” Luda’s whisper suddenly tickled his ear, and it surprised him, “what are we doing about the letter?”

It was dark out, and if Colin wanted to find out about the letter, he’d have to get Link to read it, quickly, then get his hands on it, before they turned in for the night.

Luckily, Ralis would unknowingly help him.

“I arranged for a private meeting with the princess,” the Zora was saying. “In order to discuss various arrangements and trade agreements.” He took a damp cloth from a water basin nearby and humidified his forehead ―Telma had ensured he wouldn’t dry up, since Zoras couldn’t stay away from water too long.

“Is that so?” Shad said.

“I’m nervous, to tell the truth,” Ralis admitted. “I’ve only ever met her once, and not for long. She’s said to be quite the imposing presence.”

Colin winked at Luda ―who looked a little flustered― then asked, “Link met the princess before, hasn’t he? Is she really all that bad, Link?”

Link, who until then had been contemplating the bottom of his bock of ale, looked up suddenly. He laughed lightly. “Well, I met her, yes… A few times.” When everyone looked at him either in surprise or inquiry, he hurried to add, “She’s a dedicated woman, and she means all the good in the world…” He trailed off again, as if he suddenly remembered something. His hand went for his belt pouch, and Colin knew he’d only just recalled the letter. “I… Well, she’s…” Link looked a little at a loss. Finally, he concluded, “She won’t hurt you, Ralis. She’s much kinder and giving than you’d think. She’s willing to sacrifice herself for the good of another being.”

This seemed to satisfy the adult audience’s curiosity, but when Link stood and excused himself with a smile, his words ever as polite, Colin, Talo and Luda were at complete attention.

“Talo,” Colin whispered, “you remember that trick we pulled on Beth, where we stole bee larvae from her mum’s shop to go fishing for greengills in Faron’s spring?”

Talo nodded. “Yeah, I remember… but won’t we need a frog?”

Luda’s thin brows rose high on her forehead.

“Not this time,” Colin said, then turned to Luda. “We have another distraction.”

Luda raised a finger to point at herself. “Me?”

“No,” Colin said. “The Bombling.”

Luda and Talo’s eyes suddenly widened in comprehension. Colin stood, and, to the group of adults, he excused them, claiming that they were tired and were going to turn in.

Subtly, Luda checked if Link was on the other side of the curtain. Luckily, he was leaning against Telma’s counter, reading the letter he’d received earlier, his face concentrated and perfectly serious.

“He’s handsome when he’s focused,” Luda commented under her breath, mostly to annoy the Ordon boys. It worked, because they shot her miffed scowls.

“Just do your part, already,” Talo mumbled.

Luda smiled, carefully took out the baby Bombling from her pouch, and released it on the floor. Glad to be free, the critter started to scurry all over the place.

Luda waited a moment then let out a high-pitched, anguished scream. Many patrons jumped in surprise and looked at her, wondering what the fuss was all about. Link, too, turned, and shot Luda a stunned glance.

“My Bombling!” She said, pointing at the scurrying, armoured, green insect.

At this, patrons stood, trying to spot the potential explosive, letting out squeaks and shrieks of panic. Link too stepped away from the counter, trying to spot the animal. The commotion was all Colin and Talo needed.

Colin bumped into Link, and said, “Link, help Luda get it back! It’s just a baby, so it’s not dangerous, but―”

“Don’t step on it!” Luda wailed, uncharacteristically hysterical, and it was all the boys could do not to laugh and keep their horrified faces. Link, unaccustomed to seeing Luda in such a state, hurried to take out a bottle and stepped towards the scurrying critter, which all the patrons strove to avoid.

“There it is!” They fearfully and unhelpfully pointed out to the hero, who, though not alarmed, had a face that clearly asked since when Luda had a Bombling pet.

“Don’t hurt it!” Luda continued, keeping all the focus on the action.

Colin gave Talo the signal.

Talo snatched the letter from the counter where Link had temporarily left it. He was about to withdraw his arm when Telma tapped a serving spoon on his retreating hand. Caught in the act, Talo could only stare wide-eyed at the motherly barkeep.

“What’s this?” Telma asked, clearly aware of their doings.

“Please, Telma,” Colin pleadingly hissed. “We’re not stealing it.”

Telma rolled her eyes, but let Talo take the letter long enough for him to skim over its contents. To Colin, she said, “This better be the last time you get my bar in such an uproar.”

Colin nodded, relieved. “It is, I promise.”

Talo finished reading the letter and placed it back onto the counter, avoiding Telma’s reprimanding look. Colin shot the chestnut-haired boy an inquisitive look, but Talo only stared back pallidly, motioning that he’d spill everything later.

A few seconds later, there was a cheer, and Link stood up, holding the bottled Bombling, looking bemused but not reproachful. He carefully gave the critter back to Luda, who gratefully placed it in her pouch. By now, Colin and Talo were at a good distance away from the letter, looking as relieved as their acting skills allowed them to be.

“Try to keep an eye on it, alright?” The hero kindly suggested, and Luda feigned ―at least, the boys hoped it was feigned― a blush.

“I will,” she meekly said. “Thank you, Link.”

“Well,” Colin said, pulling on Luda and Talo’s sleeves, as a sign that it was time to go, “we’re turning in, alright, Link?”

The hero pocketed his letter and looked at them in surprise. Then, he smiled. “Alright, then. Good night boys, good night, Luda. If you want someone to escort you back to your own inn, just tell me, alright?”

“I’ll think about it,” Luda diplomatically answered. “Thank you.”

They did their best not to run out of the bar. They crossed the courtyard, and Colin unlocked their room’s door. It was quite dark out, now, and torchlight was all they had to go by. Their room was dark, but Colin lit all the candles, which cast the room in a warm glow. He motioned to the two others to come in, which Talo did without a second thought.

But Luda lingered at the door, looking in and trying to hold in her blush.

“Hey, Luda? Hurry up, the moths might come in,” Talo urged.

“Well,” she said, “it’s just… my father told me it was rather dishonourable for a girl to enter a boys’ room without―”

“Bollocks to your father,” Talo crudely said, clearly not understanding what the fuss was about. “What’s wrong with us?”

Colin cleared his throat, having caught on quite swiftly. He was glad for the candlelight: it hid his flushed face. “I think it’s not―”

“What, you think we’re going to rough you up or something?” Talo continued, still oblivious to Luda’s embarrassed look. “We wouldn’t gang up on a girl. That’s just not a nice thing to―”

“What he means to say,” Colin more diplomatically interrupted, “is that we promise not to do anything out of line.”

Somewhat comforted, Luda stepped in. As he closed the door, Talo’s mind suddenly seemed to click into place, and his cheeks darkened. “Oh,” he suddenly said, finally understanding what they’d been alluding at, and his two companions chuckled awkwardly.

They stood quietly in the room, when suddenly Luda cleared her throat, making the boys look up sharply, and she said, “Well…? What was in the letter?”

This fully dissipated all their embarrassment. Talo’s face took on a conspiratorial look, as he revealed just what the royal missive could have contained.

“The princess herself asked Link to meet her in the gardens tomorrow at sunset,” he said, excitedly.

“In the gardens?” Colin repeated, confused. “Not her audition room?”

“At sunset?” Luda asked, her face turning thoughtful. “That’s rather romantic, don’t you think?”

“Are you sure you read right?” Colin asked, suspicious.

Talo let out a loud sigh. “I know what I read, alright? The princess wrote it herself, asking that Link meet her in the gardens, near the door to the stables and shooting grounds, at sunset. Apparently she has something she wants to share with him.”

“Share?” Colin confusedly mumbled. “With Link?”

“You think she wants to split up an amount of money with him?” Talo excitedly asked. “Like a good two thousand rupees?”

“Of course not, silly,” Luda said. “Obviously,” she sighed a little, “she wants to share a kiss with him.”

Talo rolled his eyes. “Since when are you a romantic?”

“Since when are you muscular?” Luda retorted, and this caused Talo to fall silent as he tried to contain his pride.

“I never saw the princess before,” Colin absently said.

“Me neither,” Luda declared, sitting next to him thoughtfully. “I wonder if she’s really as beautiful as they say.”

“I bet she is,” Talo mumbled. “And I bet there’s something going on between Link and the princess that he doesn’t talk about. Did you see how awkward he was about her when Ralis brought it up? That’s gotta mean something.”

The three of them fell silent in contemplation. A candle’s flame flickered.

“We’re going to follow him, aren’t we?” Luda’s voice held a sort of tone that anticipated the inevitable.

“Obviously,” both Talo and Colin replied without hesitation.

They talked about their plans for another short while, when Luda yawned. They escorted her to the door, offering to accompany her to her inn, but she shook her head, claiming she’d ask Link to go with her, in case she could find out more about his plans for tomorrow’s evening.

“Besides,” she added, winking, “I wouldn’t want you to lose your way in the city at this time of night.”

The boys shut the door on her teasing giggles. They tried to be upset, but they only wound up exchanging rueful smiles.