Chapter 1

Tyrone walked through the forgotten halls of the ancient castle. All around him there was death, decay, and corruption. The very smell of the halls was that of death; comparable to the smell one found in burial chambers. The stone was covered with black mosses that had no right to even exist in this world.

But, then again, all things must have their opposites.

Tyrone himself was a 34 year old man who had lived as a farmer for years. His farming had made him strong, though he had no knowledge of combat at all. He was very tan and had sun bleached hair that looked like a very bright yellow color. His eyes, though, were brown. Dark brown. He was well built and tall, pushing six foot three. He lived his life near Kakariko Village, close enough he could get to town for supplies but far enough away that he didn't have many visitors or close friends, though there were many with whom he was friendly. But that was a long time ago.

As Tyrone continued through the ancient castle, surrounded on all sides by stone walls that simply felt evil, he pondered the story that had brought him there. The Sheikah were an ancient race dedicated to protecting the royal family, though they were very small in number. They were also the historians of Hyrule, keeping all of the legends, myths, and stories that had ever passed Hyrule. They had a hidden library that kept a record of everything that could be recorded, or so the legends told. Tyrone wasn't entirely sure that they were true, but he did know that one Sheikah had told a story of opposites. Naryu created the law; that was a common fact. One such law was that all forces have a balancing force; a force equal and opposite in power. Lorule was the balance of Hyrule, with its own Triforce balancing Hyrule's Triforce. Demise was opposite Hylia. All things had their opposites.

It was one of these such opposites that Tyrone was after.

Tyrone continued walking through the dark castle. The walls loomed on either side of him, and he felt like he was walking through a long, narrow corridor, despite the fact that the room he was walking through was over ten meters wide. The dark presence of the walls was so intimidating that he felt surrounded.

Tyrone thought of his family. His wife was killed in a raid by a group of moblins, and his daughter went missing. His poor, sweet daughter. She was only fifteen; old enough to be considered a woman, yet still so young and innocent to the ways of the world. Tyrone needed to get her back. She was still alive, he could feel it. But Tyrone was no warrior. He knew how to hit things and that was about it. Some monsters he could just hit, no problem, but there were many that were far too dangerous for him to face without proper knowledge and equipment. Both of which he was searching for in this dark castle.

The journey itself was harsh; Tyrone had to traverse the Lost Woods and sneak his way past hoards of monsters. Ten darknuts in one field. Ten! He had never heard of so many gathering in one place! It was a good thing they struggled so much to navigate the denser parts of the forest. Not only that, but they seemed to fear the castle Tyrone now wandered. In fact, there were no creatures, monsters or otherwise, that seemed willing to enter the castle. Other than Tyrone. It was funny; he figured that an old abandoned castle would be filled with skulltulas. Skulltulas were fairly easy monsters to deal with; all they took was a good whack to the backside, and all they did was hang there on their webs, occasionally turning around. Easy monsters. Not like darknuts.

Tyrone could see the end of the room. It was strange; there were no candles or any sources of light to be seen. In fact, there seemed to be a strong darkness that perpetuated the room, yet Tyrone could see in the darkness, as if it was lit. It was all very strange, and Tyrone wasn't too sure what to think of it.

There was a single pillar at the end of the room, with writing on it. Tyrone could barely read, and this writing was of some ancient, long dead language. Tyrone studied it, trying to see if by some miracle he could understand the text, but to no avail. Although he could see, the magic allowing that didn't seem to give him the ability to understand dead languages. Tyrone looked away from the pillar and turned his attention to the wall behind it. There was a large indent, large enough that Tyrone could comfortably stand in it. The indent also had writing on it, which seemed to be the same as the kind on the pillar, but Tyrone wasn't sure, since he didn't know what language either of them was. Tyrone looked inside the indent, searching for a button or something that would let him move deeper in. He couldn't find anything.

Tyrone sighed and looked down, discouraged slightly and losing what little hope he had of rescuing his daughter. He noticed something near the base of the pillar. Tyrone approached it and noticed a small button right near the base of the pillar. It was very small, and Tyrone was surprised he even noticed it at all. He wasn't the most observant of fellows. Tyrone pressed the button and a panel slid open behind him. Tyrone walked through into a small room, with the exact same walls as the room before, an entirely empty except for a single pedestal in the center of the room. It drew Tyrone's attention right to it. The pedestal itself was nothing special. It was made of the same stone as everything else around it. What was special was the sword in the middle of it. The sword had a red hilt with a cross guard that extended out to the side a ways, then made a diagonal turn towards the handle. The blade was completely black, and seemed to radiate some kind of anti-light. It was rather terrifying, but it was the reason Tyrone had come to the dark castle in the first place.

Tyrone had heard stories of a legendary sword used by heroes in ages past. It was even used to defeat Ganondorf, several times. Pity it wasn't a permanent defeat, but it had worked for a time. Tyrone knew little of the sword in legend, but it was a magical sword, and therefore must have had some kind of balance. Tyrone only knew that ancient heroes used this other sword, and he was no hero. However, its balance was probably able to be used by anyone. After all, the opposite of a hero was a normal person, right? So Tyrone had sought out this sword, hoping to use it to find and save his only daughter. He loved her, loved her so much, and he needed her back. He was willing to do anything to get her back.

Tyrone approached the sword and reached out to grab it. As soon as his hand touched the hilt he felt a sharp pain tear through his body. He opened his mouth and screamed in pain. Visions began flashing before his eyes; visions of blood, death, pain, and, above all else, evil. He dropped to his knees. He suddenly knew what the writing on the pillar and wall had said. The pillar said "Whosoever seeks this cursed power shall know only pain, and only sorrow. Turn back now." The wall had said "The Usurper Sword can never be set free. The death and destruction that will follow shall all but consume the world. Oh thou foolish traveler, turn back now, before the sword destroys you. None can wield its awful power."

Tyrone had made a huge mistake. He had unknowingly grabbed a sword of evil, and he could feel its malice entering his own body. My new victim a voice said in Tyrone's mind. Tyrone knew it was the sword. At long last, my reign of blood and horror shall begin.

Kel the darknut was just returning to the field he had been stationed in not too long ago. He had tried to hunt down some creature, but it had escaped into the forest, heading towards the dark temple. Kel didn't know much about anything other than fighting, but he knew to stay away from the dark temple. Something very bad was there. Something he didn't want anything to do with. It had taken Kel a lot longer than the other darknuts to get back to the field, but that was because Kel had gone the farthest in. He had just returned to the field and was about to return to his post when he saw one of the other darknuts fall to the ground and explode into a pile of dust. When the dust settled Kel saw a man. The man was big and had scary black hair and evil red eyes. He had a wicked grin pasted onto his face and was holding a long sword with a black blade and red hilt. Kel immediately prepared himself for combat, along with the other eight remaining darknuts. The man was unfazed. He held his sword and attacked one of the other darknuts.

Kel was smart enough to know that he shouldn't get too close to the other darknut or else he'd get in his way, but he got close enough to be able to attack the man when he got a chance. He never did.

The man, the little human man, fought with a skill Kel had never before seen. The man was able to take down five darknuts in a matter of seconds. Kel had never before seen such a feat. The man was dueling with Kel and three other darknuts, all at the same time, and was laughing. He wasn't struggling at all, but was enjoying the fight. In fact, Kel felt like the man was toying with them. Darknuts were known for being among the most powerful, skilled, and dangerous monsters out there, yet this man was effortlessly fighting five of them at once!

He seemed to grow bored and slashed out against one of the darknuts. The blade cut right through its armor, killing it. The man then spun around, and Kel felt pain slice right through his abdomen. He glanced down and saw that he had been cut clean in half. Kel looked up, and right before turning to dust saw the man grin, and heard him say "Let the reign of the Usurper begin."