The farther back in history you go, the more vague and strange the tales sound. There are scarcely any records to be found, and those that exist are hard to find and even harder to decipher. But there are legends that we do remember.

Stories tell of the Dark One who rose from the watery depths of the ocean. A monstrous, armored bird flew at his command, stealing away innocent children. He cursed the Great Sea with a terrible darkness and ominous storms. One day, a boy clothed in green set out in pursuit of the Dark One. He wielded a mysterious blade that shone with a protective light, and cast the Dark One to the bottom of the sea. The curse was lifted, and the children of the many islands safe at last.

The boy whom had so valiantly protected the great sea became known as the Hero of Winds, and he voyaged across the waters to find a new land, which later became known as New Hyrule. Many immigrants from the islands settled in this new kingdom. But New Hyrule was not as peaceful as its new settlers had hoped.

A mighty Demon known as Maladus laid sealed away within the land itself, his shackles taking the form of the Spirit Tracks that had been adapted for use in transportation. One day, the tracks began to gradually disappear, isolating many villages in New Hyrule from one another, and allowing the Demon King to rise to power once again. The great Tower of Spirits shattered, a dark cloud covering the kingdom. Many prayed that the Hero of Winds would rise again to protect them. But it was not the Hero of Winds who arrived.

A boy clothed in green came once again to protect them, but the winds did not obey him. It is said that he heard the whispers of the world around him, and that he was gifted with eyes that could see the spirits of the land. With a great, armored phantom at his command, the hero confronted the Demon King and defeated him once and for all.

Then, as with the Hero of Winds, he vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

It has been centuries since the time of the spirits. Villages became towns, and towns became bustling cities. The dangers that existed so many ages ago have evoled into no more than tales told to children to teach them right from wrong. The spirit tracks see less and less use, reserved only for the longest of travels and the heaviest of cargo. Technology continues to grow and evolve, and society grows as well. History becomes legend, and legend becomes myth.

But just because something is forgotten does not mean it no longer exists. And, like a moth to the flame, darkness is ever tempted by the vulnerabilities of peace...

He'd never had very many interesting dreams, so this was a first. He was walking forward aimlessly, a cool breeze at his face. Before him was an endless forest path, riddled with dirt and fallen leaves, an inviting white light resting at the far end. Voices whispered in his ears, their words forming an ancient tongue he couldn't decipher. Their words were accompanied by a symphony of crashing waves, singing birds, and whistling winds.

The forest darkened. The whispers turned into frightened pleas. The waves and the winds and the birds fell silent, giving way to an eerie stillness. The trees began to wither away, twisting into malevolent shapes. Thick, black vines grew from the depths of the forest, and the light began to shrink away, slowly being overtaken by an encroaching dark cloud that filled the forest. The frightened pleas grew louder, into screams of terror.

He found himself running, chasing the light as it threatened to fade away. His legs quickly became heavy from exhaustion, his lungs screaming for rest, his very blood begging for a moment's reprieve from the mad dash to the end of the path. But still, he pressed on. He had to reach that light. He had to.

But it was too late. The dark vines latched a hold of his ankle. He screamed in pain as the thorns impaled his skin, but with a single jerk he tore his leg free and pressed on, absently hoping that the plant wasn't poisonous. The darkness was becoming harder and harder to evade, and his body was giving out. Finally, he could run no more, and he collapsed onto the ground. The vines took hold of his legs, pulling him back down along the path. Behind him, a formless dark cloud awaited, ready to swallow him whole. His senses were overcome by darkened hues of red and orange. The screaming darkness grew louder, joined by tormented shouts of agony, mad laughter, the roar of savage beasts, and...electronic buzzers?

Link's eyes snapped open, greeted with the bright red LEDs of his alarm clock alerting him that he should have been awake fifteen minutes ago. With a startled yelp, he leaped out of bed, briefly becoming entangled in his blankets and falling clumsily to the floor. Shaking off the fall, he hastily pulled on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before slipping into his favorite green hoodie and hurrying downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing his backpack on the way out.

There was a plate of sausage and toast waiting for him on the table, alongside a glass of orange juice. His grandmother had already left breakfast out for him, and likely at this point it had all gone cold. Link gulped down the orange juice and downed the sausage as quickly as he could before stuffing the toast in his mouth and racing out the door. His bike was waiting for him next to the garage; he was on it and off down the road in moments. Perfect, out the door in record time. As long as traffic wasn't awful, he'd have few to no issues getting to school on time. Given where he lived, that wasn't going to be too much of a problem.

The neighborhood Link lived in was a pleasant and quiet one. The houses were all relatively well-cared for, and the streets rarely had much activity aside from the morning rush to get to work or school. Many people in Link's neighborhood opted to walk to where they needed to be, although many also had automobiles. Smaller families like Link's opted for bicycles instead, although Link's was more than just transportation; he also used it for his after-school job as a courier. Either way, Faron was a rather nice place to live, and virtually every corner one happened upon was peaceful and inviting. All except for one, that is.

At the edge of the neighborhood was an enormous mansion, its age evident by the peeling lavender paint and the heavy black shingles on the roof. The dead lawn and the long cobblestone pathway was covered in dead leaves, fallen from the trees dotting the lawn. Next to the front gate was and an old, dirty sign holding a once brilliant brass plate reading "Sheikah Manor". Link always stopped to give it a look whenever he passed. He could never quite put a finger on it, but something about the mansion not only grabbed his curiosity, but also set him on edge.

It was as though the cheery atmosphere of the rest of town just shrank away whenever one came close to it. It was only made more eerie that no one seemed to live there, and evidently hadn't for many years. The place had many urban legends surrounding it, and it was common for rebellious youths to challenge one another to go inside. Typically, they wouldn't stay for more than a minute or two. It made Link wonder what was inside. Sometimes, he could swear he'd hear voices coming from within...

The sound of a passing car jolted Link back to his thoughts, and he took off down the road again. He was cutting it close today. No doubt his Grandmother would give him a talking-to when he returned home that evening after he'd done his courier rounds. He could at least hope that he didn't have any grueling deliveries to make after class. The day was already off to a rough start.

"Hey, Link!"

And it was about to get rougher.

There was barely had any time to turn around when a convertible zoomed past him on the road. A familiar face, donning a confident (and very irritating) smirk and upright red hair, stared back at him. "See you in class, delivery boy! Try not to be late again!"

Link glared back but offered no verbal response. It was widely known that Groose got on his last nerve and the two were more than rivals. Still, he had better things to be spending his energy on than the redhead's pestering...although the temptation to give the bully a taste of his own medicine had crossed his mind more than once.

At the end of the road, Link rounded a corner and sped into his school's rear parking lot. He chained up his bicycle and raced into the school building, bursting through the doors and speeding down the hallway towards his homeroom. He was just about to enter the classroom when he was met with an owlish face, belonging to a tall and stocky man wearing a brown tweed jacket and a matching cap. Behind the man, Link could see Groose and his two cronies snickering at him.

"You're cutting it close again, Link," the man said.

Link cringed in defeat. "Sorry, Professor Gaebora..."

Professor Gaebora sighed. "If you keep this up, I'm going to have to contact your grandmother. Now, have a seat. We have some important announcements to cover today before class begins, so don't make me waste my time with repeating our late policy."

Link sighed, trudging toward his desk and slumping into it unceremoniously. This was going to be a long day.