Prologue
This is but one of the legends of which the people speak...
Long ago, there existed a kingdom where a golden power lay hidden.
It was a prosperous land blessed with green forests, tall mountains, and peace.
But one day a man of great evil found the golden power and took it for himself...
With its strength at his command, he spread darkness across the kingdom.
But then, when all hope had died, and the hour of doom seemed at hand...
...A young boy clothed in green appeared as if from nowhere.
Wielding the blade of evil's bane, he sealed the dark one away and gave the land light.
This boy, who traveled through time to save the land, was known as the Hero of Time.
The boy's tale was passed down through the generations until it became legend...
But then... A day came when a fell wind began to blow across the kingdom.
The great evil that all thought had been sealed away forever by the hero...
...Once again crept forth from the depths of the earth, eager to resume its dark designs.
The people believed that the Hero of Time would again come to save them.
...But the hero did not appear.
Faced by an onslaught of evil, the people could do nothing but appeal to the gods.
In their last hour, as doom drew nigh, they left their future in the hands of fate.
What became of that kingdom... ? None remain who know.
The memory of the kingdom vanished, but its legend survived on the wind's breath.
But, this be not the legend of any hero. This is the story of the evil one who began the legend...
Chapter 1
The Plagued Winds
A dark-skinned figure wearing brown clothing and black armor kicked aside an empty water bucket. At his waist hung a single sheathed katana.
The very same desert winds he cursed whipped his red, spiky hair through the air. He angrily slammed a clenched fist against one of the fortress walls, causing it to crack.
Down to the last grain of his Gerudo Desert, Ganondorf cursed the plagued wind. It had come through the Gerudo Fortress relentlessly, day and night, for over a fort-night. Now his clan was nearly extinct once more.
In case this should ever occur again, he had devised a plan. It was likely to require all the skills he had acquired being a warlock and thief. It would also require him to leave his only home in the desert.
What few Gerudo that were left seemed to be in hiding. Ganondorf took it that whatever gods or goddesses that were watching over me were granting him boons, for it seemed he was unwatched.
He left the fortress' boundaries, heading to the horse stable. There Dragmire found his black horse at the end of the stable, just where he had left him. The horse seemed horribly frightened but calmed much at the sight of its master.
Ganondorf mounted his horse, leaning forward and whispering into the horse's ear. "Prejion, show me, your master, the meaning of swiftness."
The horse bolted off from the stable. That day he rode over the desert, bringing up clouds of sand behind him. Not a single stop did he make. Nor did he tire from exhaustion.
Soon the Ganondorf saw the sun had begun to set. At twilight he stopped Prejion just before the edge of a cliff. Ahead of himself he saw what he so much coveted for his own country. Before Ganon's eyes were the pure waters of Lake Hylia, the blissful wind that brought the thriving life to the land, and peace.
Seeing what he had wanted to, Ganondorf ever so slightly pulled on the reigns. From there he rode northwest to a secret passage that even few of even his own people knew of.
Ganondorf slowed his horse. The gate was always guarded and fire always set on the edges of the path to ward off outsiders. He signaled to the guards and they raised the gate. He began to ride between a thin steep chasm, fire burning on both sides of him.
Soon the fires of the Gerudo ended. On the ground, the sand had rapidly become lush, green grass and on the walls above his head he saw foreboding bushes that looked burnt. If they had been lit it was not lately for there was no rain and no smoke was seen.
Ahead of him the gap widened quite suddenly. Laid before Ganondorf's dull golden eyes was the narrow expanse of Hyrule Kingdom's northwestern fields. He urged my horse to hurry, flying still northwest.
At the sight of proud gates at the capital's west entrance, Prejion slowed to a trot and soon a stop.
Ganondorf examined the looming wooden gates. It was obvious Hyrule did not expect an attack. If they were not ready for an attack then they were definitely not prepared for an invasion or to defend against an attack that came from the inside out.
He kept this in mind, as he dismounted the black horse. Dragmire held the reigns, faced Castle Town, and, before ascending the steps and entering the city, he shrouded himself in his traditional black cloak and covered his head in a hood.