**~Lucky Clover Gazette~** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~"We all know the faithful merchant Beedle. But what dark secrets is he hiding? His obsession with beetles may just be a cover for what he truly is... A SPY! Yes, you read it right Beedle maybe a spy, for who we don't know. But have you noticed his peculiarly shaped ears? How about his odd style of dress?" ***READ MORE ON PAGE 17*** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As I stared down at the paper in my hands, a wave of anger washed over me, I crumpled the paper and stood, gathering my things. How could it have come to this? Beedle—a kind, devoted merchant—being speculated about like this. Sure, he gets a little pushy when you have a beetle in your pack, and yes, he’s overly enthusiastic at times. But that’s just him doing his job with heart. I stepped out of the small barn I’d been allowed to sleep in for the night and tossed the paper into the river. I watched as the ducks pecked at it, helping it drift away carrying its cruel words downstream. Beedle and I were meant to meet at the Foothill Stable, and as I mounted my horse, a thought clenched at my chest: had he seen the paper yet? I hoped not. I knew he’d be crushed. He’s smart enough not to believe everything in that scandalous rag, but that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t sting. The ride took about an hour. As I reached the stable, an eerie stillness greeted me. Usually, Beedle’s lively voice would be echoing across the grounds as he haggled with a customer. But today—nothing. Maybe he was late. But that wasn’t like him. As I led my horse toward the stable, I felt eyes on me. People turned—some glaring, others watching with quiet resentment. I tied up my horse and walked to the counter. “One bed for the night,” I said. Ozunda looked me up and down. “We don’t serve spy associates,” he said flatly. So the rumors had spread and spread fast. How they know my association with Beedle is unknown to me, but they have figured it out. With no lodging, I turn away from the counter and sit by a tree some way away from the stable. My horse, whom I lead to the tree beside me, is grazing with contentment. "Oh," I sigh, "things would be so much easier if everyone was a horse. We'd be too busy grazing and roaming to care about anything." It harbors no response from my horse almost as if proving my point. I have yet to name my horse, everyone that I've thought about naming her seems wrong, and so as I sit there awaiting Beedle I brainstorm names. After who knows how long I hear the faint sounds of clanking and immediately recognize it as Beedle and his pack. I stand and make sure my horse isn't going to run off then I run off. As I reach the top of a small hill I see Beedle in the distance excitedly; I run towards him; he hears my footsteps and looks up his face glowing with joy to see me. Once I reach him I say, " I missed you," almost out of breath from sprinting the entire time. " You don't know how much I missed you," he says still elated to see me. Before he can ask, I pull out a wriggling creature from my pack. "One Energetic Rhino Beetle just for you!" I say holding out my hand. "My lucky day! A traveler who needed to buy from me had one and traded for it. Now I have two of these lovely specimens to add to my collection." He says taking the beetle and placing it in a little container with leaves smaller bugs and air holes. He turns to me, and I ask if he has seen the paper yet. To my dismay, he has, but he seems to be over it for the most part. We walk back to the tree where I left my horse and I explain the hostility people had shown when I had walked up to the desk. Beedle is astounded that people treated me like that and that they knew of our association, never the less, he blames himself for how I'm now being treated. I try to explain to him that he couldn't have changed what that paper said, but he doesn't seem to hear me. He is caught up in the guilt that he has about being part of someone's troubles. Beedle talks about his recent travels and mentions a guy that has recently taken to trading with him more so than others. He doesn't know his name, but he seems to be on a journey from what Beedle has told me. "He is short, much shorter than the typical height, but he has the fierceness of a warrior. He always has different things some of which I've never had before, the items are very rare sometimes and the quantity is huge when he sells." Beedle explains recounting his encounter with the stranger. Continued Below
Once Beedle finishes I pull out a wrinkled paper, I had come across it on my journey to the stable, and hand it to Beedle. The paper advertises an event that the kingdom has started, assist a knight and earn all the rupees you can imagine. "They need teams of people but sending knights out together lowers the amount at the castle so they are asking for peasants to help." I tell him, we are always trying to find a way to get rich quickly and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. He looks at it trying to decide if it is worth it. By morning, Beedle had made up his mind. “If the kingdom needs help,” he said, rolling up the parchment with gentle finality, “then let’s not pretend we’re above it.” We joined the recruitment program just after sunrise. The stable buzzed with rumors and speculation—whispers of Zelda’s powers spreading like wildfire across the plains. No one dared speak it aloud, but the air thrummed with change. The encampment itself sprawled near the castle’s outer fields, where tents stitched from military cloth dotted the landscape in tidy rows. Fires crackled, weapons clinked, and people moved with a nervous determination. We were met by a grim-faced coordinator who took our names with a nod and pointed us toward the orientation group. Beedle carried himself differently here. Less bounce, more resolve. I could see how the paper had affected him—how the sting lingered. But this task gave him something new: a purpose not tied to beetles or rupees, but to dignity. Then came the knight. A ripple of attention moved through the camp as he approached. Shorter than average but radiating quiet strength. His travel-worn tunic bore the unmistakable blue of the Hylian Champion—not ceremonial, not flashy, but heavy with meaning. The Master Sword on his back glimmered just enough to be real. Beedle whispered, “That’s him. The traveler." His eyes were wide, not with awe, but recognition. The knight moved through the crowd like a ghost—acknowledging no titles, accepting no fanfare. When he reached our line, he paused. His gaze drifted to Beedle, and something passed between them: respect, familiarity, maybe even gratitude. Then he turned to me. “You’re with the merchant?” he asked. I nodded. “Good,” he said simply. “Resourceful minds. Stay close." No one said his name. But they didn’t need to. Link had joined the program. Not for glory or gold—but because the kingdom was shifting, and even its most powerful protectors had stepped into the quiet trenches. Zelda’s awakening had changed the land, and now Link’s footsteps guided the way forward—without ceremony, without speeches. As we walked toward our assigned outpost, Beedle turned to me, still clutching the event flyer like a lifeline. "We’re part of something real now,” he said. “Maybe I won’t be known just for beetles anymore." And that article I add mentally not wanting to bring up the topic directly knowing that nothing can be done about it. Yet. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Sorry about the length I made it as short as I could for this first chapter. I hope you enjoyed! The narrator is made up, but this story isn't about her, I just needed a character who is close to Beedle to make it work. Also, I wrote it on my phone and transferred to computer so formatting maybe a little weird.
