--CHAPTER ONE--

I think there's no real explanation for my life. It's just a big ball of misfortune. Sure, I'm alive, sure, I'm healthy, but honestly, after eating nothing but pumpkins and the occasional fish, life would be better if I was not quite so poor.

My name is East. Just East. I think I originally had a different name, but that's what Zylan called me. When I was just a baby, Zylan found me in the banks by the river. He cared for me despite his old age, training me to be a warrior monk like he.

And then Zylan died.

I woke up one morning to find I was no longer in his little hut. Some kind of creature had torn it to sawdust and murdered my only friend. I was only nine, so I decided to wander off and become just that, a wanderer. A roamer, if you will.

I'm getting way ahead of myself.

See, it's a problem. Sometimes I'll start talking, or writing, and then I kind of start rambling without a proper introduction.

Let me start again. --AHEM--.

My name is East. I am poor. The end.

And while Zylan was the only one I knew, I have Brook. She's an orphan, like me, (I think), so we know how it feels to be lonely. That's why I love Brook, we can relate.

Oh, and Brook is a horse.

One day I wandered past a farm, and I heard a loud noise. I rushed around back to see what was up, and almost witnessed Brook's execution, stopping right in front of a sword being tested against a rock. The man of the house couldn't use a weak horse like her, and so I took her in. Brook carries me sometimes, I use her for warmth, and in exchange, I feed her half of my meal. Although I sometimes give her a quarter. Horses can't tell the difference.

But regardless of horses and rambling, I have a story.

Maybe it'll make me famous. Maybe I could be the hero of some lost legend.

It all started upon one chilly morning in Hyrule field. My ragged scarf was billowing against my cheeks, and my silver hair was waving….

And there was life.

All around me, a feeling of life and understanding shook the earth. Butterflies wavered over small patches of flowers, squirrels chattered and expertly hopped from branch to branch. The fresh scent of basil and rosemary mixed with the earthy, mossy, damp smell to create a wonderful aroma. Brook and I walked, my clothes loosely waving against the sharp chill of October. I breathed in deeply, the air meeting my nose. I remember smiling with joy. Allergies had never bothered me.

But as I wore on, walking with Brook, I realized that the fruitful and plenty of the day was decreasing. The ground became increasingly difficult to walk on, sod, dirt and gravel lay in the pale grass which was before knee-high and colorful; Now it was dark and slow.

The path was overrun with weeds and trees, gnarling over me. The sky turned dark, as if a storm was coming, though no rain fell on my shoulders. I had walked down this path many times, but never had I seen such a depressing place. It soon became clear that night had been much closer then I anticipated; The sky was dark and cloudy, and I wished I was in a shelter. Usually Hyrule Field was still cheerful at night, still and beautiful even when it was gloomy. Now I walked through what seemed to be a post-apocalyptic nightmare. Up ahead was a small ledge bound to a rock. Though it was no a cave, I could still spend the night there. I was unsettled by the awful conditions.

I think I saw the coin then, a glimpse of gold on the ground. I had already began my ascent to the top of the slope which the shelter stood on, and so I eagerly went faster. It could be money, I had thought greedily.

If I had known the dangers.

The thing was half buried in dirt when I arrived, and I was amazed I could see the shine from far away. It was dusty and chipped. I blew away the dirt and silently read the words, tracing my fingers over the engraved words.

He who seeks change in life seeks darkness at a final hour.

Etched in above the words was a crude symbol which had obviously been drawn in after the coin's creation. A small circle, crossed with two lines that had an acute angle together hung mysteriously over, like something important.

It was then that I realized I was dealing with much more then just a coin.