A/N: Hi there! I'm so glad you decided to click on my story! Now it's my job to keep you here.

Let me begin by saying that this story is a novelization, but it is still very much my own. This is not a direct rehash novelization. My aim was to tell a story about how everything would have happened had this been an actual historical tale (permitting, of course, that which could not be avoided such as magic and the like). Thus, there are injuries, emotional breakdowns, relationship building, and points in which our hero barely makes it out alive.

After all, he wouldn't be considered a hero if it had been easy, right?

Disclaimer: The story below contains intellectual properties from Nintendo Co., including, but not limited to, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess and The Legend of Zelda franchise, and are in no way owned by myself, nor do I claim ownership of any of the events that directly correlate with previous installments made by Nintendo Co. in the franchise The Legend of Zelda.

This chapter was revised as of 12/27/12 - Prologue added, rewrote most of the chapter.

This chapter was revised as of 5/6/13 - Minor errors and typos fixed.

This chapter was revised as of 12/15/13 - Polished, enhanced by readers' criticisms.

What Makes a Hero

By: Selphie Kinneas 175

Prologue

.:.

What is a hero?

Heroes are often thought of as fearsome warriors, slaying ferocious beasts and rescuing kingdoms from their terrors. Saving the innocent, protecting the weak, and pushing back evil in its every waking form.

That definition, though partially accurate, is a foolish one.

There is so much more to a hero than simply vanquishing those with malicious intent.

A true hero is someone that fights for what is just and does the right thing when no one is watching. Someone that puts others' wellbeing and happiness before their own. Someone that risks their lives for others with no thought of personal gain or glory. Someone that is noble and brave, ready to dive headfirst into peril when another is in danger. Someone that is humble and does not boast about their deeds. Someone that is often acknowledged by few, or even none, for their efforts, but one that would also have it no other way.

A true hero is an all-around good person who does the right thing despite the odds against them.

A true hero would die if it meant correcting the wrongs of the world and protecting the guiltless.

Heroes are few and far between in the land of Hyrule – only a handful have ever claimed the title for their own, and they have gone down in the history books as legends in their own right.

This is the story of one such hero and how he stepped forward and accepted his fate as the one chosen by the Goddesses.

This is the tale of what made Link of Ordon a hero.

Chapter 1: Begin Again

.:.

As a young boy clothed in dirty rags and tattered cotton trotted through a seemingly endless wood atop his newly acquired companion, dusk slowly faded into bitter darkness around them.

It was the night of the third day, to be exact, and he was beginning to feel the toll taken on his small body from lack of food, water, and rest.

He had been wandering aimlessly for three days now without any idea where he was to go. He was only a young child, and he had just suffered an immense loss that no adolescent should ever have to endure. The events of what had happened replayed in his mind over and over again, like a broken record. He squinted his eyes tight and shook his head in a futile attempt to whisk the images from his mind's eye, but to no avail.

It all seemed like it had happened so quickly, and yet, it still seemed like it hadn't happened at all – like it was merely a horrifying nightmare that he would soon wake up from. He kept his ears sharp as he found himself periodically glancing at his surroundings optimistically, expecting the familiar faces to present themselves and tell him it was just a dream and that he was going to be okay. Each time he looked up and saw no one, however, it reminded him all over again that there was no possible way that was going to happen.

They had been celebrating his birthday a few days early due to work-related business requesting his father's presence on said day. The boy, his mother, and his father had all gathered around a small portion of pumpkin pie, their substitution for when wealthier people would often enjoy an elaborately decorated birthday cake. They were a poor, but humbled, family and delicacies such as cakes did not come lightly – besides, pumpkins were bountiful near their home and the young lad was plenty delighted with the simple pie anyway.

There were no wrapped gifts, no candles to blow out or anything of the sort, but he didn't mind. He had never known such a lifestyle, and yet he didn't care to know one. His parents had taught him that modesty and humility were some of the most important traits, and he had grown to live and breathe just that. He had never been the typical child who counted his gifts and weighted his material objects against his happiness – he honestly and truly found the most joy just being in the company of his father and mother. He had always been taught from early on that nothing in life is guaranteed, and he lived each day cheerfully when he awoke to find that everything was just as it was the night before.

They had always lived in a small hut on the outskirts of Hyrule Field, far away from any other towns of villages. They lived alone, their house the only house for miles. They had a stable, however, for the father's horse, along with a few patches of soil in which to grow their own vegetables, but that was the extent of their property. The parents knew of the importance in their bloodline and felt that being away from busy, bustling towns would be safer than being right in the middle of one – they figured no one could find them at this location.

After the small celebration, his father had told him to step outside; that he had a surprise for him. The young boy obliged joyfully, expecting a new lesson on tending to their garden or his highest hope, a new trowel in which to dig more efficient holes for planting pumpkin seeds. He followed his father eagerly, excited to possibly learn something new. What his eyes beheld when he stepped over the threshold, however, forced his jaw to almost hit the dirt.

It was a small, chestnut foal.

The boy's father had always owned a horse, seeing as he had to frequently travel to distant lands and faraway places when he was called to duty, but he never thought he would get to have a horse to call his own. His parents had been saving up their every penny for this gift for some years now, mutually agreeing that their son would need a trusty steed as he got older to aid him in his everyday tasks as he grew up and took on more work – they also hoped it would help him learn responsibility.

He leapt up and down in sheer exhilaration, blabbering incessantly to his father about getting on the filly right that very instant. His father laughed at his boy's display of enthusiasm just before nodding and grabbing a nearby saddle.

After readying the small girl for a ride, his father turned to him and asked, "Well, son, what are you going to name her?"

The young, sandy blond-haired boy thought for a moment, trying to recall the name of a famous horse he had heard his mother tell him stories about. He remembered she had told him that it was the mare of an ancient hero that was of some distant relation to him, and he had instantly become intrigued by the man. Hoping to follow in his footsteps, the name suddenly came to him.

"Epona," he finally whispered, his father staring at him for a moment, wondering if his boy would be the next in line to endure such a cruel fate…

His father had lost himself in thought for a moment, praying silently to the Goddesses that he would not have to witness his son go through such hardship. He hoped beyond hope that the need of a hero would not be for some generations still, not wanting any of his kin to put their lives on the line.

The boy quickly pulled his father from his thoughts as he began tugging at his shirt and begging him to go for a ride together. He smiled at his son and prepared his own white stallion, his mother waving to them with a grin as they galloped away.

Riding horseback came natural to the young lad, but his father was not shocked in the slightest as he had come to realize over the years that most physical things came naturally to his son. He had always been a fast runner and an avid tree climber. He still remembered the first time his son had fallen from the top of an enormous oak tree – he hadn't even cried. He was also incredibly strong for his age; he often helped his father with saddling his large horse and he carried bags of heavy soil for his mother when gardening.

They talked and chattered about unimportant things, the boy thanking his father endlessly for such an amazing birthday gift. When his son had asked him if he was sure he could keep such a gift, and he had gone on to say that he was more concerned that they had money to put food on the table, his father had to fight to keep from displaying the sadness that overwhelmed him on his face. Even though living without much money had indeed humbled each member of the family and made them all much closer than they might have been otherwise, he never wanted his child to worry about such adult matters.

He assured his son that the gift was his to keep and the boy wore a huge grin, practically ear to ear as he gave his newfound friend a loving pat, receiving a gleeful whinny in return.

The cool wind, the breeze in his hair, riding alongside his father… he felt wonderful; he never wanted this to end.

"Father?" the boy spoke up.

"Yes, son?" he replied, neither one looking at the other.

"I want to be just like you when I grow up, do you think I can?" he asked enthusiastically, turning to look at the older man for an answer.

His father thought for a moment before stopping his mount to look into his son's eyes, the boy following suit as he brought his horse to a halt as well.

"No, son, I have a feeling you're going to be much more than that," he responded with a smile.

The young boy seemed confused at that statement; he didn't want to be more than that, he wanted to be just like his father. But before another word could be uttered, an exceptionally loud bang sounded throughout the field, coming from the direction of their home.

Their hearts jumped at the startling sound, and they immediately turned to see smoke rising from the tops of the trees.

"Oh Goddesses…" the father whispered, not loud enough to worry his boy. "Son, listen to me," he began urgently as he placed a hand on his shoulder, getting the young one's attention, "You must ride Epona as far away as you can and do not look back. Find a village or a town but do not follow me whatever you do, do you understand?"

He most certainly did not understand. The older man began turning his ivory steed around just before giving his son one more glance.

"Father! Wai-," he yelled, trying to follow after him.

"Do as I say, son!" he commanded firmly, his voice then taking a softer tone as he said, "Stay safe. I love you," and he rode off in the direction of the flames - the direction of their home.

The young boy stopped abruptly as he watched his father ride away through the trees, to where he could no longer see him galloping off.

He remained motionless atop his foal for quite some time. He was dumbfounded and completely confused; what had just happened? He didn't understand…

When was he going to see his father and mother again? Why didn't his father want him to come back home? Was he not wanted anymore? He didn't understand!

He was far too young to comprehend what had happened. Having been suddenly left alone, feeling vulnerable, lost, and worried, he began to cry silently. He was unsure of what was going to happen to him or what was going to happen to his parents, and he didn't know if he should do what his father instructed of him or wait for him to return. He was just so confused…

He continued to sit there stationary until he heard rustling in the trees heading his way, followed by a not-so-distant voice calling to him.

"I know you're out here…" the raspy voice said, sounding beast-like, "I won't hurt you… much," it spoke again with a deep, harsh sound as it laughed at its own statement.

The boy didn't move; he wasn't sure what to do. Epona began getting frazzled as the rustling came closer and closer to them.

"I'm going to let you be with your mommy and daddy. Don't you want to see them?" it said again as it finally emerged from the trees and shrubs.

It was a grotesque looking creature with skin as green as the trees and eyes as red as blood. It was fat and disturbing to behold, completely unlike anything the young child had seen before. It was perched atop a massive boar that was almost as hideous as its rider.

A sudden and inexplicable courage grew in the pit of the boy's stomach, and from somewhere he didn't even know, he yelled, "What did you do to my father and mother!"

The creature cackled maniacally just before pulling a bloodied corpse out from behind him, "Sorry I don't have your mommy for show and tell; all that's left is ashes."

His father had spent many years perfecting the art of battle, but he was no hero, and the hideous troll had clearly overpowered him.

All the color and liveliness of the boy's face was instantly washed away like water down a sink. He became like stone, unable to move and unable to utter a sound. So many emotions were raging inside him that he couldn't contain them all.

Anger and the eagerness to get revenge. Sadness and the disbelief that he was truly witnessing what was before him. Anguish and the agony of beholding the dead body of his father. Despair in realizing that he was now completely and utterly alone in the world.

The monster did not stop laughing, and it was then that his father's words popped back into his mind, "Ride Epona as far away as you can and do not look back. Find a village or a town but do not follow me whatever you do."

He couldn't let his parents' deaths be in vain; he knew he had to get to safety.

A suddenly mature grip on the gravity of the situation snapped him from his thoughts and spurred him into action. He whipped Epona around and gave her a stern kick, sending her racing off in the opposite direction of the flames, his home, and the wicked demon that murdered his parents.

"Get back here, scum!" he could hear the foul beast shout from behind him, but he didn't look back.

He nudged Epona harder and darted in and out of the underbrush, quickly maneuvering around large tree trunks and massive bushes in hopes that he would lose his pursuer. He had continued running his foal long after the sounds of galloping hooves behind them had diminished. Partially to be safe, but mostly in hopes that if he ran far enough it would erase what had happened.

That was everything he could remember up until this point. By now he had been riding for days with no idea where he was, but he didn't care. Now he was an orphan; he had no parents, no family, and no friends. Where was he supposed to go?

He didn't bother stifling the sobs as he trekked on, looking for any sign of civilization to give him shelter or at least food.

They had passed by a small stream near the morning of the second day, giving the boy and his mare a way to quench their thirst. He could tell Epona was in need of a good night's rest and a decent meal just as he was, but he didn't know what to do for either of them, so they continued on.

As he counted the suns that set and rose each day, he realized that today had been his actual birthday as the last light faded over the horizon. He was ten years old today.

Night began falling all around him, and he started to shiver from the coldness that arrived with the absence of sunlight; it was at least warmer than the previous nights, he thought – maybe he was getting closer to a village.

He blinked and rubbed his eyes as he thought he imagined lamplight coming into view, moving closer toward it. He emerged in an open clearing from the forest with a path leading down toward what appeared to be a small town of some sort, but he wasn't sure, and he thought he might be dreaming or seeing things by now. As he inched forward, he hadn't noticed the man stationed on a tree stump a few feet in front of him, guarding the path toward what he assumed was a village.

The man noticed him approaching, but in the cover of nightfall he could not tell if the intruder meant harm or came in peace. Being cautious, as was required in the middle of the night, he stood up, yelling, "You there! What business do you have in Ordon at this late hour?"

Fear froze the boy in his spot, and it was at that moment that the lack of food, water, sleep and the addition of severe stress and depression hit him, and he was instantaneously lightheaded and woozy. His mount came to a halt, sensing her new master's current state. His vision began to blur and his heart pounded in his ears. He reached a hand up to his aching head just before everything went black and the sensation of falling swept over him.

The man noticed him hit the ground with a thud, Epona rearing up and whinnying at the occurrence, and he approached the form apprehensively. As he got closer, he began to realize that his figure was much too small to be of any threat. The man knelt down and turned him over onto his back, "Goddesses, it's just a child," he whispered to himself, now worried for the poor boy's health.

The stranger lifted him up into his strong arms and began carrying him down the path and into his village, Epona following close behind – she had already grown quite attached to her owner by now and didn't want to leave his side.

As the man entered the small settlement with the motionless boy in his arms, some of the other villagers began to crowd around – it was nighttime but the sun had just barely set, and everyone was busy bringing their days to a close just before retiring into their homes for the night. Some followed silently while others more curious asked questions. He continued down the dirt road until he reached a house in front of a flowing stream where a young woman was waiting for him in the doorway.

"Oh my…" she mumbled, clasping a hand over her mouth as she stepped out of the way so that the man could get inside.

He laid the young boy down on a sofa in the middle of the small dwelling. The woman closed the door behind the few others that had followed him into their home and went over to her crying baby in a high chair near the couch.

"Who's that?" one of the adolescent female villagers asked curiously.

"I don't know," the man answered quietly as he proceeded to tell the story of how the boy came to him on the outskirts of the town.

"He looks so young," another rather large man pointed out, "Look at that… he has pointed ears."

"So he does," the boy's rescuer responded as he fully looked him over.

As his gaze descended to that of the child's hand, he noticed a familiar mark that he had seen in many places across Hyrule as well as in many history books, "Goddesses…"

"What is it, dear?" the young woman asked, the small baby now balanced on her hip.

"This boy…" he began, everyone leaning in closer to see what he was gaping at, "He has the mark of the Goddesses; he has the mark of the triforce."

The young ones had heard stories about it, but weren't really sure of its importance. The adults in the room knew all about it, though, for it was Hyrule's most important history.

"Do you think…?" the rotund man began, but stopped himself when the young boy's eyes began flickering open.

"Boy," the first man called, "Can you hear me?"

The small child coughed slightly as the various colored shapes and forms flooded into his weary eyes, "Y-Yes…" he replied nervously, unsure if he could trust these strangers.

"What is your name?" he asked again, kneeling on the floor next to the sofa.

The boy continued fluttering his eyes, trying to clear his vision, "Link…" he answered shyly.

The two men exchanged knowing glances.

Just then, a very young girl with blonde hair, the daughter of the plump man, jumped up close to the boy's face and asked, "How old are you?"

"Um," he thought for a moment, the events of the last few days flooding his mind slowly but steadily, "Today is my birthday… I just turned ten…" he whispered.

The girl shrieked, "I'm almost ten, too!"

"Pff," another adolescent boy with a long face and short brown hair spoke up, "I've been ten," teasing the girl as she threw a bit of a tantrum at his declaration.

"I wasn't asking you, Fado!" she yelled in return.

"Tell me, Link… What were you doing in the woods at such a late hour? Have you any idea the dangers that await in the forest at night?" the first man continued asking questions.

"I…" he began quietly, "I was just trying to find somewhere to go… I've been wandering the woods for a few days…"

"Oh, you must be starved!" the woman with the baby yelped.

"What of your parents?" the tall man asked again, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

Link's eyes began watering uncontrollably at that inquiry, but he answered it nonetheless, "They were killed…" he responded as the two children and the young mother gasped.

"Oh my!" the short, blonde haired female shrilled, the baby on her hip getting crabby from her sudden convulsion, "Rusl, we must let him stay with us."

The man she had referred that statement to was her husband, her infant's father, and the man who found Link outside the village. His heart sank for the boy, and he didn't argue with his wife's statement in the slightest.

"You may stay here as long as you like."

A second chance.