Life begins and ends in fire. Din's power stokes the passionate flames that give rise to creation, and it is her flames that warm our souls when they return to the void.

Knowledge begins and ends in the water. Nayru's wisdom is as deep as the sea, and flows from the highest mountains to carve distinct paths through the land.

Dreams begin in the air, when we take our first breaths of the roving winds. Farore's courage drives us to seek beyond the known, and weather away any challenges in our path.

The seeker of the Triforce, hold these within your heart, and you shall find the path.

-Oral tradition

In the northern provinces of Hyrule, beyond the mountains that separated the steppes from the verdant plains, a band of nomads slept. They would finish their journey tomorrow, to venture into the republic proper and seek asylum there. It would surely mean that their tribe would be disbanded, but it couldn't really be helped; it was necessary for their survival as a people after all.

On a mesa overlooking the encampment, dark figures sat astride armored war beasts, bearing axes and clubs in their thick-fingered hands. An order had been given, and they were to carry it out. The leader of the raiding party gave the signal and as one the riders turned for the narrow path that led down onto the fields.

Within a tent a girl slept, barely three years old, snuggled up with her parents. The child's fiery red hair and dusky bronze skin marked her as one of the last pureblooded remnants of a dying race, keeper of an ancient secret if she could be kept alive long enough to reach protection. They were being hunted down, and if the girl was killed then all would be lost.

Sentries stood at attention, alert for any signs of danger. An approaching storm had them on edge, as none of them really wished to be caught outdoors while lightning was streaking from the sky. A faint rumble of thunder sounded, causing a few of the tribe's horses to stir nervously. Premonition woke the shaman, and he rose from his tent, asking for the fastest mount they had to be readied.

Still drowsy the girl was lifted up into the shaman's arms, her parents ready to make the sacrifice for their beloved child. If their leader was approaching them now they were aware that the nomads had been found, and now they must serve as a delaying action. Nothing else mattered now, and the whole of the camp was presently being roused to face the assault that would surely claim them all. All of the children were being readied, to have warriors carry them in different directions; the shaman himself would break for the east carrying a bundle that bore the same bulk as the destined child…while the child herself was carried on Epona's back towards Hyrule.

The mare knew the way, and would keep her charge safely in the saddle despite the girl's inexperience. Take her to the village of prophecy, to the keepers of the old lore. They would know what to do with her there. No bit and no bridle were given, and the horse's only burden besides the girl was the pack carrying the carefully-preserved vestments of a bygone age.

No sooner had Epona began her swift flight than the first cries of battle came. Steel-clad dragon boars crashed through the sentry line, their riders cleaving bodies and breaking limbs as they drove straight for the center of the camp. Ten riders broke for the borders, the Shaman among them urging his mount forward in the direction that the attack had come from. Two of the rear guard saw him flash past and called to their leader about him.

The others would be tracked later, but they had to catch the Shaman now or all would be undone. Splitting his forces the giant goblin-like creature urged his dragon boar along as fast as it could run, leaving his skirmishers behind to finish the job of crushing the nomads utterly. They paid the price in blood as their leader abandoned them to their fate, but ultimately the battle shifted in their favor and soon there was nothing left of the camp but broken tents, ash and bodies. They would not even be afforded a burial.

As fast as his mount was the shaman knew he would be captured and killed, but was safe in the knowledge that Epona would deliver her passenger safely. There was no more secure place in the world than where she was going; not even Hyrule City with its high walls and trained guardsmen was a match for the sleepy little village in the foothills, set behind a bulwark of natural defenses so complete that no army could breach it.

His final thoughts as the axe swung to cleave his head from his shoulders were of amusement. Yes, their blunder would become known, and there would be nothing they could do about it. And then there was darkness, and he thought no more.

For her rider's sake, there was no fatigue. There was no hunger, no thirst, no fear. There was only the path ahead, the journey to be completed. She could rest once the danger was past, and even as she descended through the Talon Peaks, skirting Death Mountain along the way, there could be no hesitation. Following the memories of her ancestors, Epona was headed straight for Farwood, deep within the encroaching forest where it met the mountains and the Azora river. It would be the last place anyone would look for her. The shaman's spell would keep her passenger in slumber until Farwood's elder released it, and placed her with a family. The tribe had allies among the forest folk, and strong warriors would repel any attempts on the child.

And then Epona could rest.

The transition from high plains to forest was rather abrupt, and yet the mare was not at all discomfited by it; these woods were old as the nation itself, and sacred as well, so there was little chance that she had been followed this far. Even if they had managed to track her, which the prideful horse doubted, they would not get beyond the dense underbrush or the maze of massive interlocking roots; few knew the secret route into Farwood, and nobody could pass into it via the main road without being tracked by defenders both human and arcane.

Soon a bend in the barely-perceptible trail brought the village into sight, high walls covered with ivy, creeper vines and large hedges. The main road led into the gate and the secret path vanished to ordinary sight; that there was a man in heavy armor wielding a large polearm did not bother the horse. Her presence in the village was a reminder of a pact as ancient as the walls he guarded. Swiftly the horse was allowed inside and the elder of Farwood descended from the fortress to take custody of the girl asleep in the saddle.

Quietly as the girl was led away Epona laid down and waited as the sages gathered, and surrendered to the darkness as they made the decision to seal her. Everyone knew, man and beast alike, that a champion must be selected and she must serve as his mount. And the girl…

Whatever fate she had now would be of her own making.

It is said that in ancient times the Sages acted as guardians to the Sacred Realm. Those seeking the power of heaven were tasked to prove themselves virtuous and worthy of the prize they desired. In time the Sages' power waned and so they took to a different method of protecting the golden power; champions were chosen by each Goddess and each was entrusted with part of the mystical object which could reshape the face of reality.

But even that did not last forever and in time the Goddesses returned their emblem to the Sacred Realm, and the last remnants of the Sages' power was used to seal the gateway between worlds. And yet cracks in the wall existed, allowing those canny or unfortunate enough to wander beyond the void. At the very last a long-standing rivalry was brought to an end and the Blade of Evil's Bane was laid to rest.

For an age peace reigned and the emblem was returned to the world, but the ancient foe returned from the darkness to challenge once more, but he was pushed back and the Hero used the last of the emblem's power to break a curse that had stood for millennia.

The mystic races began to dwindle as the sacred object faded from the world, and now hardly any trace of them remains. All of them have left a legacy of once-great civilizations laid low by their dependence on the blessing of their matron Goddess, and now only we remain to carry on their memory.

-A Tradition of Hyrule, volume IX

On that same night a similar plot was in motion for entirely different reasons, and with entirely different methodology. Again the target was a singular being, but the perpetrators were not quite so recognizably inhuman. Intent, perhaps, was telling enough, but physically there was no difference between the assassin and the courtiers he sat amongst, that he had played at being for the past three years.

Few were aware of the fact that an heir to the royal family had been found, a long and illustrious line of leaders that had for some reason decided to simply vanish into the shadows. In its place a regency and parliament had arisen, and though many of the latter's members would have gladly compromised into a democratic monarchy, the former had decided the only real course of action was to eliminate the threat to their continued usefulness.

So they had hired him to do the job, but he couldn't simply waltz in and kill someone, especially not someone as heavily guarded as the lad was supposed to be. At the very least his nursemaid would prove to be a difficult foe, reducing his chances for escape before the knights were summoned to finish the job. The killer had to admit a grudging respect for the white-haired woman who wore the ancient order's insignia, an order he himself had sought to enter but had been prevented from joining thanks to his supposed bloodlust. That simply wasn't true. The only thing he lusted after was money, and people tended to pay through the nose if it meant the quick and efficient elimination of their opposition.

Not that he was callous about it, of course. He picked his contracts with care and precision, trying to avoid any unsavory duties such as offing someone's brat or ex-lover; this however was an exception to his usual rules of engagement because if it was true that an heir had been returned to the kingdom it could prove seriously destabilizing.

Many of the outlying areas of Hyrule the nation still clung to the older ways but the closer one got to the capital city where the castle once stood the more advanced things became. An academy funded research into technologies that had formerly been ignored for their magical alternatives, but as that force became increasingly hard to press into service the more mundane was required to fill in the gaps that had been left in its absence.

But now the time of execution was drawing near, and the midnight hour was to be the moment he slew his mark and disappeared like so much mist from the morning sun. The long time of preparation was necessary; the moment he drew his blade to strike the killing blow his masquerade would be broken but until then he could get perilously close to the boy without arousing any sort of suspicion. Many had offered gifts to him in person and though it was late surely the nursemaid would not object to a visit.

With the grace of a shadow he entered the chambers where the prince slept, striding up to the bed purposefully. Not even the barest hiss as the steel was drawn from its scabbard, and he expressed no hesitation as he plunged it into the lump beneath the covers…and met no resistance. This knife was not so finely honed that it would part flesh like water. No, it was an ordinary dagger…

The clank of halberds being crossed over the door he'd entered through alerted him to his folly. Of course they would expect an assassin. How silly of me. He turned, not even bothering to hide his face for they knew it well by now, and stared at the Knight Captain who stood before the crossed polearms.

"The boy?" queried the slayer.

"Safe with his guardian. Well beyond your reach, slayer."

"I am in doubt of that, but there is nothing I can do about that now. I take it you mean to question me?"

"Ordinarily, but we have all the evidence against you we need. It is your choice. Die with honor, or an object of public ridicule. There are no other options."

"Again I have my doubts. Perhaps the Goddess does not favor me, but I'll take my chances." The world may be closing itself off to magic, but he always counted it as an option, especially where a quick escape was needed. Throwing down a pellet he shielded his eyes against the flash and drew upon the energies he desired, and smiled as they responded.

The teleportation was always disorienting, but he made his bearings quickly, escaping into the wilderness beyond the city without raising any further alarm. They would search and they would find nothing, naturally, for he was trained in the same arts as the prince's keeper. When he put his mind to it he could think of only one place that she would have taken him. The deep forest, where laid old temples and older secrets, the home of an order of mystics who by choice disassociated themselves with modern amenities.

That posed its own problems since NOBODY could get in that wasn't expressly allowed by a very powerful guardian spirit that despite having lost his corporeal form was still quite potent as a protector, perhaps even moreso now that he was no longer bound to a single location. And if there was one thing he knew well it was that you do not do anything to intentionally anger a creature that had a memory lasting into the millennia.

Much time later and the assassin stood at the boundary of the forest, looking at the rather large owl that had suddenly appeared on a branch, regarding him stoically. For his part the mercenary didn't move to enter the forest, knowing he would just be rebuffed, at best, and not really wishing to test himself against that owl's talons, either.

"It seems my quarry's escaped beyond my reach, guardian. Just as well; I don't really abide the murder of sleeping children, and yet I am struck by how much he could change this world. Do you truly believe it would be for the better?" He left the question unanswered, departing for the outskirts. Hyrule would be closed to him for now but memory would fade, at least that of men, and he would have a chance once more. He'd waited this long; what harm would it be to wait longer?

At some point we simply lost track of what had really happened and began to tell warped stories, exaggerated accounts of the truth. While some accounts remain in writing and are free to peruse the languages they are written in are no longer spoken and there is much difficulty in providing an accurate translation.

We do know that one of the champions vanished to another world, and the one that followed him reunited the forgotten world of the Twilight with our own through his great deeds. The peace that prevailed was broken when the evil wizard managed to obtain the power of gold and transform the Sacred Land into the Dark World, but that too was undone, after which the Master Sword was hidden away, believed to be no longer needed.

Once more the wizard struck however and the sacred emblem was broken, but then repaired and used to vanquish him again, sealing him even more firmly in the void, and with two-thirds of the puzzle sought the final piece of the Goddess' blessing so he could undo the curse on the first princess of our kingdom. Having slept for so long she parlayed with her descendent and then chose to retire to a life of obscurity and let her namesake lead.

It is after this that things become hazy. We know that there are now two branches to the royal family, one from the original bloodline and one from the descendents of the prince who had cursed his sister to begin with, but we cannot determine which one has a legitimate claim to rulership over our beloved kingdom. For the last three centuries all who wished the throne came to us to be chosen but even that fell out of practice and none have seen any sign of the arbiters of destiny for nearly as long as they sought our guidance.

None of us could have been prepared for what was going to happen as a result.

-Lorekeeper Aruja

The last people to enter the forest were not being chased, were not evading an assassination plot and were certainly not the heirs to any great mystery. Dressed in green cloaks and brown tunics a tall man and his young son were admitted without any resistance or undue suspicion, granted a place near the walls of the village, and left to go about their business.

Having traveled far from home that was not going to be much, this first night, taking just enough time to settle what little belongings that had been brought along before settling in to sleep. The pair were from a distant island nation that neighbored Hyrule by virtue of there being nothing between it and the kingdom except vast, empty ocean. The man himself was a teacher of an old style of combat, sent to replace the former master who had recently passed away; outside of Farwood only the Knights practiced this method and few were the ones who could be called truly proficient at it.

His people were far from being an order of celibate monks, however, as if they were it would have meant their quick and decisive demise. Instead, they were a clan of warriors, founded by a champion who had wandered to their shores after many years of searching. According to the tales, and the memorial plaque on the statue, the man who had changed their society forever had arrived on the island's shores after many years of searching for a friend that he had lost. At the time he had been delirious from fever, weak and seeming much older than his actual years, but after being nursed back to health he decided to repay the then-small village the only way he could.

So it was that a legendary hero handed down an art that had been built up after many hard battles, and accepted a position of leadership only grudgingly. Under his guidance the small village became a mighty nation, uniting the other tribes on the island and remarkably with very little bloodshed—if there had been a war of conquest the history books had glossed it over.

The man and his son, it was believed, were from the same bloodline as that legend, and therefore the ones best suited to pass his art on to the protectors of Hyrule. The old master, too, had been of this line, or one of its branches, but that was immaterial to them at this point. He was gone and they were not. The boy didn't see the loss of his former home as any great tragedy; this land was new and unusual, more trees than he'd ever seen in his admittedly-short life and many interesting people to meet and become friends with.

Not many hated the boy, and that was part of why his father had brought him along. He made a good icebreaker, though it pained him to use his own kin as a tool, hopefully when he was older he would understand and forgive. It was essential, after all, that his students not reject his teachings. Nothing less would suffice.

There was only one curiosity about his child. He seemed to have a preference for his left hand where most of his students used the right, as did he himself. It was no matter. The boy could learn his father's art with whatever hand he wanted, or even his feet if he chose. Closing his eyes he slept easily, looking forward to meeting his students.

How long have you been in here, wizard? How long have you lurked at the edges of our realm? Have your defeats cowed you that much?

My many defeats have not slowed my ambitions in the slightest. My capacity to act on these ambitions, however, is considerably reduced. You are not looking well yourself.

His blood runs in my descendants' veins which is enough for me. As for looking well, you know as well as I do what spending centuries as a shade will do to you. I am lucky I have been able to retain this much.

I face a similar problem. The boundaries have weakened again, but there is now a peculiar lack of magical energy. Without it, I cannot craft a body for myself to inhabit, nor can I steal a suitable form from among the magicians. There are fewer every year.

And what would you do with this body, if you could have it? Steal the throne of Hyrule for yourself again? Attempt to annihilate his bloodline? You would have to end mine as well, in that case. I can't help but feel that you're hopelessly bent on conquest for the sake of itself, and that is unaccountably evil.

None of us are born evil. I often find myself wondering if there was anything I could have done different, something I could change to improve my odds of success. I held it in my hands and then it was gone.

There is a reason my tribe did not practice magics that could manipulate time. It is dangerous, risky. Change one thing and you could erase yourself from existence, or worse. Some things do not bear thinking of.

If Hyrule the world disappears, what happens to the ones that it is anchored to? It's uncharacteristic of me, but I feel very afraid. Afraid that what I sought for so long could disappear forever. I do not want that to happen.

There may be a way. If you're really serious about preserving Hyrule...

I am.

Only to wrest control of it for yourself at a later date, I assume. You really are hopeless. But there may be a way to save it. You aren't going to like this at all…

For so long I have dreamed about endless waves of sand, stretching as far as I could see. I remember the name of every person who died because there was not enough water, or food, while at our borders the Hylians sat ignorant of our plight, getting fat off the land. How many times had my clan's leaders petitioned for parcels of land to farm, to live on, a mere portion of the vast wealth that Hyrule enjoyed? And all to be rebuffed, all because we had our own goddess, our own beliefs… When did we preach against the Goddesses? When did we curse them, or those that followed them?

I just wanted my kin to live well. Maybe somewhere I lost sight of that. Maybe I let my anger at the injustice overwhelm me, and maybe I did choose to bring the same desolation that was my inheritance to the rest of the world… I succeeded, and yet it was ripped from my fingers and time was reset.

Again, there is a reason my tribe never dabbled in time manipulation. We preferred to challenge heaven openly, and look where it got us. But it is not all bad. You have your faults but you are at heart noble and honorable, and if not for you I would not have met HIM, so for that at least you have my gratitude. However much you may deny it you helped keep at least one tribe from dying off as the others have.

You could have me, too, you know.

Absent body I must decline.

As you wish. Now let me tell you about my plan…