For the first time, Link feared for his life. A drunken man had cornered him in an alleyway and just started wailing on him. Blood dripped from the child’s face, seeping into the valleys in the cobblestone street. The boy was only about ten, he wondered why anyone would want to beat him to a bloody pulp? Link felt a sudden surge of anger. It ran through his body, into his limb and muscle, causing his spine to quake. His fist rocketed forward and hit the drunk square in the nose. There was a sickening crunch, one of cartilage breaking into tiny fragments, and the swish of blood moving about. Link started to run.

“You hurt the princess!” the drunk yelled, “Someone will get you!”

Link, having heard that remark, raced to the castle to see if it was true. His feet pounded the dirt trail, following it to the castle entrance. As he neared it, he saw something horrible. It was too much for a child’s eyes. Blood stained the walls where guards were slain. Link held in the vomit that seemed bound to come, as he ran past the dead guards and on a bee-line to Zelda’s room. He wondered if it was a good idea to go and see her, if she was still alive. The thought bounced around in his head. No it’s impossible, he shook out the idea, how bad could it be? Link opened her door and realized exactly how bad it was. The king and Impa stood off to one side mourning and young Zelda lie on the bed, her dress bloodstained. His eyes flared, he clenched his fists causing his knuckles to turn white.

“Who did this?” Link asked slowly, one word at a time.
“You.” Impa said simply, hate staining her voice.

Link did a double take. The young, innocent ,princess Zelda was dead, by his hands?
Impossible.
He rushed out of the room and the castle, heading straight for Lon Lon ranch.

Link made a decision. He would find his look-alike, and set him straight. First, he would need a horse. That, is where Malon came in.
“Link you shouldn’t be doing this.” Malon tried to persuade him not to search for Zelda’s killer. Concern was in her eyes, worry, in her voice.
Link climbed onto Epona’s saddle.
“What do you want me to do? Just sit back and let him get away!” Link yelled, “ I’m gonna find him, and when I do I’ll treat him the same way he treated Zelda. Death.”

With that, Link rode off, a cloud of dust trailing after. Malon stood quietly, watching, as tears slowly ran down her cheeks.

A shadow fell across him as he moved forward. A large wooden door barred his way to his ultimate triumph. He would kill him. The man that stood beyond this last obstacle. After seven years of searching, this was it. The end. He was about to achieve ultimate revenge.
Goddesses it had been tough.
The entire continent was hunting him.
A criminal. They thought he was a criminal!
How could he kill the person he loved?
He couldn’t. But they don’t realize that.
How could they not realize that?
Shaking it off, he reached into his pouch and pulled out a small crystal. In it, was the very essence of fire. Din’s fire. Smirking, he tossed it at the door. The crystal shattered upon the door’s wooden surface, releasing the fire within it. The door quickly became consumed in fire, and at the same time, weakening, until it collapsed. Stepping over the burning embers, he walked into the next room. It was illuminated strangely, by blue fire, crackling on the candles’ wick. He wasn’t here. The man he had been hunting, was not here. No, only a mirror at the back of the room. A mirror? Why a mirror. The old man said he would be here. The old man said the killer would be here. Looking into the mirror, he saw himself. Link stared back at him. It couldn’t be? Could it?
‘Yes. Yes it could. It is!’
‘No. No!’
‘Fool. You did it. You have been hunting yourself for seven years. What a waste.’
‘No!’
‘Yes! Yes you foo1! It was so obvious! The blood stained clothes, the memory loss! How could you not see it?’
‘Shut up!’
‘You did it! You killed Zelda!’
“No!”
The mirror shattered, sending pieces of glass into Link’s knuckles and hand. His bloodied fist hung there for a moment, before falling to his side. Link smiled.
Yes. It was true. Why didn’t he realize it before? He killed Zelda. And he loved it.
Well this is it. The end of the road. He knows the truth now. He reached down, and grabbed a shard of glass. Laughing maniacally, he brought it to his throat.

Something had happened, she could feel it in her gut. Or, maybe it was the alchohol. Either way, it wasn't too great of a feeling. Malon brushed her fiery red hair away from her eys. Her once beautiful face was dulled from time, worry, and excessive drinking.

Malon looked at the cool brown liquid, the bubbles magnified by the clear, crystalline glass that held it. Drinking was Malon's lifeline. No, she didn't have a problem.

Link wasn't coming back. She knew it. Years of thinking, and drinking had convinced her of it. But, someone was coming.

Putting that thought aside, Malon grabbed the jug, and took a sip. Not satisfied, she went for more, until the jug was drained. That was a mistake. Suddenly she felt a burning sensation in her throat. Her stomach gurgled and her head hurt. Malon collapsed onto the hardwood floor, and puked. Her stomach contents were riddled with red blotches, and the sight of it made her want to throw up again. She picked herself up, and decided it was time to go home.

In her drunken state, the young woman walked, or stumbled rather, to the tavern door. It seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. She managed to open it, and tripped onto the street. Her head hit the cobblestone hard, giving her even more of a headache. There she lie, too weak to get up completely prone. But, as usual, no one would harm her, or rob her. Why? Because no one wants to rape a smelly drunk, and she has no money to steal. Eventually, she would grow tired, and fall asleep in the middle of the street. Someone was usually kind enough to gently move her out of the street, lest she be trampled by the morning rush.

Malon awoke with the sun streaming on her face. But, something wasn’t right. She was in a bed. How is that possible? She fell asleep on a street.
“Good morning sleepyhead!” said a cheerful voice.
Malon emitted a nervous squeak.
A laugh, it was obviously feminine.
“Don’t worry Malon, I won’t bite. Honestly, I don’t think I even can.”
“Who are you?” Malon asked.
“You know who I am.” the girls voice said.
“Show yourself.”
“Very well.” Out from the shadows stepped a ten year old image of Princess Zelda.
Malon’s mouth gaped open.
“Impossible,” she whispered, “you’re dead.”
“Yes,” Zelda smirked, “I am.”
“So...”
“I’m a ghost, yes.”
Malon was stunned. Why was Zelda coming to her, why not Link?
It was almost as if the princess could read her mind.
“I have come to you for a reason, Malon.” the princess stated, “It’s about Link”
“Link!” Malon sat up, “How is he? Has he gotten the killer?”
“Malon,” Zelda closed her eyes and sighed, “Link is-was a troubled man.”
Malon became confused. Was? What did she mean by... Oh no. Her hands flew over her open mouth in shock.
“But we have another problem. The Hero of Time, in his last minute rage, destroyed the one artifact that kept Ganondorf in the sacred realm.”
“That’s not good.”
“No it’s not.”
“So,” Malon queried, “what do you want me to do?”
“You need to convince Link to move on. As it is right now, his spirit prevents anyone from fixing the problem. Malon, you’re the only living being he trusts.”
Look at that. The spoiled princess needs the dirty farm girl. She was tempted to say no, but something inside her sad otherwise, this is bigger than some petty disagreement between her and Zelda.
“Fine,” Malon said, “for Link.”

Malon stood silently, in her cruddy old shack of a home. Several boards were missing from the floor, the bed looked as if it endured a viscous beating. The feathers stuck out of her pillow, and the mattress drooped dangerously. She smiled. She'd be leaving all this behind soon. Maybe she'd get more sleep on the cold, hard, ground. Malon looked about this room, searching it for something that might be worth bringing. She found nothing. Too many bad memories in this place. She grabbed her bag, which she had stuffed with food, and left this place behind.

As she walked onto the path leading across Hyrule Field something occurred to Malon. She hadn't seen her family in over a year. For good reason though, they completely disowned her. The morning mist settled on her, as she stood there, pondering. He breath appeared, and disintegrated rhythmically in the cool weather. Against her better instinct, Malon set out for Lon Lon Ranch.

Ingo thrust the pitchfork into the pile of hay once more, much like he had done over and over again for the past twenty years. He wiped the sweat off his brow, and gazed towards the door to see a familiar, and unwanted face.
"Malon," he scowled. His face resembled a frog's and his body reminded her of a horse's leg.
"Hello Ingo." she tried to be cheery, but it was obvious she was just as happy to see him, as much as he was to see her.
"So, come back to beg for forgiveness?" Ingo laughed evilly. "Well too bad. It ain't gonna' happen, bitch." he sneered.
Malon stared at him angrily.
"Where is my father?"
Ingo snickered, "He's in the house, dying."
Malon looked like she just got trampled by a herd of stampeding horses.
"What?" He had to be lying.
"He got real ill a few days after the last time you saw 'im."
Malon did not need to hear more. She rushed into the house, tears streaming down her face.

Talon lay there under wool covers, breathing heavily and slowly. With every exhale of air, a sharp raspy sound followed. There were purple bags under his eyes, which were bloodshot. He looked as if he were already dead, and he was, in spirit.
Malon burst into the room, weeping.
"Father?" her voice was choked.
He didn't answer.
Malon moved to the edge of the bed, and kneeled at her father's side.
"I'm here father."
Still no answer.
"Please talk to me father."
"You're a disgrace Malon. You were the town drunk. The town drunk, Malon! Whatever happened to you, you were a good kid." Talon used the last of his energy, and turned so his back faced Malon. She was devastated. Her father was on his deathbed, and he just repeated the same thing he said every time she visited. She got to her feet, and left the ranch for good.