THE PEN lifted from the paper. There was a long silence, devoid of the repeated scratching of the pen. The scribe looked up from his notes, and into the old man's eyes.

"So you set out for that new land," Prinn asked, rolling the pen around in his hands.

"Yes," Link answered. His voice was deeper, firmer than it had once been in those youthful days.

"Then what?" Prinn asked.

"We explored for about two years, following the course of the wind."

The old man turned his gaze out the window.

"Then we finally found it. It was as if we had discovered the sacred realm of old, more grand I felt, than even that land I had seen in ancient Hyrule. We immediately began settling the land and making arrangements for my family to come and help us build New Hyrule."

Link pressed his face closer to the glass, as if the few inches he gained by doing so would bring the landscape into clearer view.

"I remember the wonderful years we had here, starting this all," he said. "I remember the first time I saw mountains, real mountains. The vast plains, the snow blanketed north, the deserts, all of it was so beautiful. There were some harsh winters. Some difficult setbacks. But through it all, I saw the world of the ancients rise from fertile soil."

"Through all that though, and even now, do you ever miss Outset Island?"

Link exhaled. "Sometimes. Living in the past is a rather depressing hobby though. Nothing ever changes."

Link moved his chair back to the desk.

"I miss Aryll too," he added. "She became a strong, unstoppable woman. She, in some respects, is the the reason why all this exists. I want you to dedicate the book to her."

"Of course."

Link got up from his chair. "I suppose that it is finished."

"Finished?" Prinn chuckled, "You sir, are finished. I however, am not."

"And I'm sure that you will do magnificently," Link said. "I'm quite sure you will also flood the narrative with your pension for flamboyant imagery."

"Oh master Link," Prinn grinned, "but that's how you sell it to em'!"

"I appreciate your enthusiasm Prinn," Link said, "but remember, I want the embellishments kept to a minimum."

"Well, the people will have a difficult time of it anyway," Prinn pointed out, his expression becoming more subdued, "Your history has a - ah, air of... unfeasibility."

"Yes," Link admitted, "I'm aware of that. I want to simply have an official history established to cut through all this filth that claims to speak the truth on my life."

Prinn gathered up his things, and the two walked out the door of the study and down the hallway.

"I'm glad that this wonderful new land has been established," Link said, "but I fear that all these wonderful things the people have, their prosperity, their fortunes, all these inventions..."

He sighed. "The people have decided that things like heroes and the goddesses are at best, things of the past, or at worst, things that don't exist at all."

"I think you may be exaggerating a bit master Link," Prinn suggested.

"Perhaps," Link said thoughtfully, "Perhaps not."

They continued through the castle. They passed some young boys, dressed in the uniforms of

new recuits. Link's gaze rested on the young guards.

Many years ago, Tetra had insisted that they dress the young guards in the garb of a hero. Their clothing was very similar to that which Link had worn when he was young. This cloth however had the mark of a mechanized textile, rather than the tender touch of Grandmother's hand.

Grandma had lived to see the new land. They all had. Sadly, the land may not live much longer seeing them.

"So is there anything after you left to find New Hyrule that you want included in the book?" Prinn asked.

"No," Link answered. "Everyone knows about the founding of the kingdom itself."

"I'm not referring to that," Prinn clarified, "I want to know about things that happened during your explorations."

Link stroked his chin. "Nothing really stands out to me."

"Hmm," Prinn said. "That's unfortunate. Are you quite sure?"

"I am positive," Link replied.

They walked out of the castle and into the town. Walking on the ornately arranged flagstones, they parted ways as they reached the town square.

"I'll get started on this right away," Prinn said as he held up the portfolio holding his copious notes.

"I look forward to reading your work," Link replied.

"Where are you going?" Prinn asked as he began walking his own way.

"I'm heading to the trading post to begin the business work for the book," Link explained.

"Ah, I'll be seeing you then sir."

"Good day to you," Link said in farewell.

"You too as well sir."

What an interesting young man, Link thought.

The lad was a bit... eccentric, but of course, in the minds of many, so was he. Link was confident though in the man's ability to write the story of Link's boyhood.

Link arrived at the railway platform. That was unusual. Most of the railroad locomotives were a simple dark grey or black, but the one at the station was predominantly blue, with shades of pastel orange.

Link was abruptly caught off guard by someone running into him.

"Oof! Sorry Grandpa!"

It was Molida. Oddly, the teenage girl wasn't wearing her usual royal dress. Rather, the princess was dressed in a rather casual yellow shirt and skirt with a satchel over her shoulder. She had also tied her hair back in a braid. The princess that Link knew would never be dressed like this, even in private, yet she was dressed like any one of the youth in town.

"Is something wrong Grandpa?" Molida asked.

"No," Link replied. "I just was wondering why you're dressed a bit differently today."

"Oh," Molida said, "me and my friend Flint are going swimming at Papuchia village."

Molida? Going swimming?

"What are you doing Grandpa?"

"I'm going to the trading post to discuss some business with a friend named Linebeck."

"Oh!" Molida said, "Flint could take you in his train, it's on our way."

"Your friend is an engineer?" Link asked, taken aback.

"Yeah," Molida replied, a sheepish smile on her face. Molida looked to the train, and grabbed Link's hand, leading him up to the platform.

The locomotive was pulling a rather short train, with only the locomotive's fuel tender, a freight car, and a small passenger car. The locomotive hissed steam and coughed smoke out its exhaust stack.

"Flint?", Molida said, leaning her head to look into the cab of the engine. No response came.

Molida walked over to the front of the engine, and to Link's complete shock, nonchalantly jumped off the platform onto the tracks, then walked around to the other side of the locomotive.

Shaking off his surprise, he followed suit, easing himself down onto the tracks.

What had gotten into his granddaughter? He hadn't seen Molida in over a month. What had happened to the girl? No one ever told him about anything anymore.

As Link walked around the front of the engine, he saw a boy about Molida's age, tinkering with the mechanics in the locomotive.

The boy, curiously enough, was wearing a guard recruit's uniform. He had leather gloves on, coated in grime and oil from the engine's machinery.

"Oh, hi Molida," he greeted as they walked up to him.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"What'chya up to Flint?" Molida asked.

"Tryin' to fix something with the locomotive," the boy explained, "It's having a hard time starting to move, and changing to reverse, even when I have the sander on."

With effort, Link crouched and peered into the machinery.

"It might be your radius rod," Link said, pointing to a part of the engine. "Try loosening and oiling it."

Flint paused for a moment. "Yes," he decided, "I think that might work."

Flint oiled the part and loosened it a bit with his wrench.

"Are you ready to go?" Flint said to Molida, closing up his tool bag and standing up as he did so.

"Yep," Molida answered, patting the bag that hung at her waist.

"I don't think we've met," Flint said to Link.

Flint extended his hand, then shied back after realizing how dirty his gloves were. Undeterred, Link shook Flint's hand before he got a chance to take his gloves off.

"I'm Molida's grandfather," Link introduced himself.

Flint became still.

"Wait," Flint said, "are you..."

"Yes, I'm Link. And your name is Flint?"

"Umm, yeah," Flint said nervously. "It's a pleasure to meet you sir."

"My grandpa will be going with us," Molida explained. "He needs to be dropped off at the trading post."

"Okay," Flint said nervously.

Flint walked up to the ladder on the side of the locomotive. Again catching Link off guard, Molida followed Flint up into the locomotive's cab.

"Molida?" Link asked in disbelief, "You aren't going to ride in the cab are you?"

She shrugged. "I want to talk to Flint."

"Well then," Link huffed, "I certainly am not riding back there alone."

"Alright," Molida sighed, "I'll ride in the passenger car."

Link shook his head. " No," he said, "I can ride up front."

"Um, are you sure sir?" Flint protested, "I'm not sure -"

"Oh let an old man have some fun," Link insisted, climbing aboard.

"All aboard!" Molida shouted, hardly able to keep herself from giggling as she did so.

Flint gave two short pulls on a sagged chain, and the locomotive whistled twice at a high pitch, signaling a departing train. Flint then started ringing the bell.

Link and Molida sat down on a flat part of the tender as Flint moved to the controls.

Link watched as Flint's hands moved from lever to lever, starting by closing the cylinders, moving the reverser forward, releasing the brake, and then slowly opening up the throttle.

There was a lurch, and Flint sighed in relief.

"It's fixed," he said. "Thank you sir."

Link nodded as the train began to pull forward. He steadied himself, clutching a grab iron for support.

"Hey Molida," Flint asked as the train slowly picked up speed, "can you watch the controls while I fuel the fire?"

"Sure," she answered.

Link's jaw dropped. Something had really changed in her. Driving a steam locomotive? Being in a hot engine cab thick with the smell of machinery and smoke?

A loud roar filled the cab as Flint opened the fire box, and a wave of heat came over Link. Molida was unfazed, and gripping the throttle, she peeked her head out the window, looking down the track ahead.

Flint began chucking logs into the fire box. Looking inside, Link could barely see anything but a bright red glow, as if they were carrying a piece of a volcano with them. It reminded him of his journey through dragon roost cavern all those years ago.

After a minute or so, Flint closed the firebox and quieted the bell, then traded places with Molida, and she sat down in the chair opposite Flint's. Molida bent her legs inward, snug against the chair, the way Aryll used to.

They rode in silence for a while. Link felt the cool rush of wind flow around his arms like the waves of the ocean. It was interesting to Link, watching this boy at the controls of his locomotive. This locomotive wasn't a mere tool to Flint. It was a living, breathing creature that he communicated with every time he eased a lever.

Flint interrupted his thoughts.

"So sir," he said, "I was wondering how you learned so much about steam trains."

Link ran his hand through his grey hair.

"Well," Link explained, "I find that I need to know how the world around me works. The railroad has had such a profound influence in our lives, and I find it rather sad to see many ignorant people in the kingdom who don't care about knowing how we got to today."

"I think I'm seeing that sort of thing too," Flint agreed. "I was talking to someone about the spirit tracks, and they told me I was being silly to believe that the tracks began with the spirits."

Flint ran his hand across the metal of his locomotive. "They don't want to believe in things like ancient magics."

Link edged closer to Flint.

"Have you ever seen something like that?" Link questioned Flint, "Not something neat like a kinetograph, but actual, real magic?"

Flint gripped the engine's throttle and shook as if his mother had found out he had skipped out on his school classes. Something was definitely odd about these two.

For a minute or so, the only sound was the chuffing of the train and the wind. Finally Flint spoke.

"Sir," he said. "You - you saw some... not normal things when you were young, right?"

"Yes... " Link affirmed, growing more curious by the second.

"Well," Flint cleared his throat hesitantly, "we've seen some interesting things recently as well."

"Is that why you have a sword scabbard hidden under your seat?" Link asked.

Flint flinched again, and accidentally opened up the throttle. While Flint was distracted, Link reached under his seat and grabbed the scabbard.

"Hey!" Flint exclaimed.

Link gripped the handle of the blade and slowly drew the weapon from its sheath. The hilt was predominantly turquoise blue, with inlays of bright yellow. The hilt was in a shape that was reminiscent of the ancient Hylian loftwing crest. Link held it in front of him. It was a well balanced blade.

"I would like to know what has happened between you two this past month," Link said.

Flint was quiet, then seeing that Link would not be swayed, began to talk. Slowly and nervously the two dictated their recent experiences.

They certainly had a story to tell.

Link began to feel something. He wasn't sure what it was.

Then, Flint looked in his eyes. A feeling of realization washed over him.

Link was not left alone.

Molida and Flint were walking the path him and Tetra had walked. He saw it in the way the two talked. In the way Flint held the throttle of his train the way Link had held the tiller of the King of Red Lions.

Flint was wearing the clothing of a hero. Link felt tears well up in his eyes. The goddesses were not going to leave them in another world without a hero. Although Link had begun to feel isolated in the years since Tetra passed and Aryll passed, it seemed there were still some that looked above instead of to themselves.

"Grandpa," Molida asked, "Are you alright?"

Link smiled. "I feel better than I have in a long time. Tetra would be proud of you. Both of you. I feel that she truly is."

"You believe us?" Flint asked.

Link nodded.

"No one else will," Flint noted.

"Does it really matter?" Link challenged. "As a boy, I left home to save my sister because it was right, not because it was popular. Just because your good isn't recognized, it doesn't mean it wasn't worth doing."

As he said the words, reassurance came to Link's heart. He needed this counsel just as much as they did.

"Thank you sir," Flint said.

Link looked up ahead. They were coming to the switch track that would take them to the trading post. After they made the turn, Flint began applying the brakes while simultaneously closing up the throttle.

"I want you two to promise me something," Link said. "I want you to promise me that you won't cave into what's accepted as right by the people, over what you two know is right."

"We promise," they said in unison.

"And Molida," Link added, "promise me that you won't go back to being the stuffy puffed-up girl you used to be."

"I promise," Molida laughed.

"Your Grandma would have a fit if she knew that the granddaughter of a pirate wouldn't go outside without wearing silk gloves."

Flint snickered and Molida gave him a sharp glare.

"Mom isn't happy," Molida sighed, looking down.

"Of course she isn't," Link answered. "Your mother has good intentions, but she thinks she can perfectly replicate a lost world. She doesn't realize that those things - the castles, the fine clothes, the social codes are not what gives this world life, and what gave life to the old. This new world cannot flourish if it is shackled to the trappings of the past."

He looked at the trees flashing by them, and the rolling landscape.

"Tetra and I ventured out into the world because we wanted to create a world of our own. Take the spirit of the past, and use its light to help light your own futures, but do not try to bring the past back."

He sighed. "No, what made ancient Hyrule great was the will of the people. As long as they were faithful to the goddesses and each other, peace and prosperity reigned. When they let their momentary desires rule them, the kingdom suffered. This land will only prosper as long as it balances the good of the future and the past."

Flint had been applying the brakes for about a minute now, and they finally lurched to a stop. Link gave his granddaughter a hug. Then he shook Flint's hand.

"Thank you grandpa," Molida said. "For all that you've done. It wasn't until I met Flint that I really began to understand all you've done for us."

Link smiled, and stepped onto the station platform. He waved them off as the steam locomotive's whistle echoed across the landscape. Link of Outset stood thoughtfully while they departed.

As he watched the train go out onto the trestle and into the distance, he felt something... curious. It was a vigorous gust of wind whipping at his clothes. It blew in the direction of the two new adventurers.

The once energetic and lively boy named Link had now become a wrinkled old man. Hardened by misfortune and dark forces, but strengthened by hope and the love of others, the old hero felt a burden leave him, cast like dust into the wind.

And for the first time in many years, Link heard the voice of the wind singing the song of ancient heroes, and he felt his own thoughts sing in choir with them. His worn face formed into a smile.

The ancient kingdom

was plagued by

blood and hate.

It was saved by

a hero guided by fate.

A millennium later,

a new hero had taken that place.

The greatest darkness

had been his to face.

Though he'd defeated

the Gerudo king,

The people would still

face the horrors that

darkness would bring.

But now he knew that

there always would be,

Heroes who fought

that darkness like he.

And as their train

traveled down the track,

He had one final thought-

may courage's wind

be at their back.

— THE END —