Author's Note: Greetings my friends! I won't leave to much here, but as the description entails, this is the story of Breath of the Wild, only is the events that occur 10,000 years before the main events of the game. For those of your just coming over from my other work Breath of the Wild: The Phantom Realm, I welcome you! Those of you who are just tuning in for the first time, I welcome you as well with a warm heart, and a hope that you will enjoy!

With that said an done, I will see you all next time!

-Written In Bold


Prologue

The year is 5473 A.T., nearly five and a half thousands years since the last Chosen Hero and the reincarnation of the goddess Hylia have walked the earth. In that time, many kings and queens have risen and fallen in the land of Hyrule, bringing about not only many ages of war and destruction, but also times of peace and progress. From the broken shambles of a battered people, one tribe has slowly risen above all others, growing both in strength and technological prowess, until at last it has culminated into a race of people renown for their their intelligence and cunning that has time and time again outmatched and outwitted its allies. For many centuries there was peace between the United Sheikah Sects and their neighbor; the kingdom of Hyrule, but with time and nearly limitless technological possibility, corruption sought to invade and warp the minds of the two sister-nations once founded upon the ideals of harmony, causing relations to sour, and ties to be cut.

Hyrule turned to greed and lust for power, and the Sheikah Sects sought to undermine their ally and exploit them for their wealth of land, resources, and people.

What followed was decades of a war... not a war of sword and machine, but of bitter resentment, idle threats, and saber-rattling... a cold war. True peace was merely an illusion dreamt up to prevent mass hysteria, but in the hearts of every man and woman laid the ever present truth; one shift in the foundations their lands were built on, and their world would be plunged into the destruction they feared. And so, for decades Hyrule stood to be economically manipulated by the Sheikah, and the Sheikah stood to be cut off by their old allies and be forced to supply for their own with what little land they had.

Such was the state of the world...


Chapter One

"I expect only steadfast devotion to the Korinz'Val from you," Master Maz Koshia stated in his unwaveringly calm, but stern and tempered voice as they peaceably walked down the beaten path from Kakariko Village towards Sahasra Slope.

"Of course, Master Koshia," the young man replied dutifully with a bow of his head.

"Although our sect is wholly separate from the rest of the Sheikah Tribe, I would suggest you expect nothing less than contempt from your kin. To the Royal Family and its people, a Sheikah Monk and those who follow our creed are the same as a Shekiah of the Klavin'Zein. And considering the strain between my clan-cousins and the Crown, it would be wise not to expect partings of partiality or rapport, despite your heritage."

"I understand, Master Koshia," the young student replied stoically, knowing deep down that his coming trials would not be to test his physical strength and endurance, but of his mental fortitude ―and considering his past struggles with such feats, he accepted that pain would be his only companion.

But he was no stranger to pain… pain of both the body and mind.

"Remember the Korinz'Val, Chosen One," Master Koshia reminded him amiably. "Let it guide you. Let it fill your heart with purpose and offer you knowledge when you have lost your way. And most importantly, remember to control the rage within. Harness it, and use it in your favor for righteous goals, but do not let it consume you." In unison, the Chosen One and his Master repeated the mantra of their ways; a verse from an ancient poem written by the earliest of the Sheikah Shadows.

"May the shadows guide and watch over you… May they teach you to interpret the laws of this land and discard the laws of man… May the Shadow watch over you."

"Thank you, Master Koshia," the Chosen One said reverently, before bowing with his hands joined in the way ordained by the Korinz'Val. His Master offered him the same honor, before vanishing in a flash of crimson light shaped by the Eye of Truth, offering one last goodbye on the autumn winds.

"Thank you, Master Link."

He felt his heart swell with pride. It was the first time since his Final Induction that his enigmatic teacher had called him by his new title, granting them equal ranks under the ways of the Korinz'Val. Of course, Master Koshia was still by all means his superior, as were all the members of the Monks of Val, but to be recognized as such filled him with a sense of accomplishment and awoke a reformed thirst for more knowledge and understanding.

Sorrow found him in the moment after however, when he remembered that both his heritage and role in this world would not allow him to become anything more than a Master. Becoming a Monk was a privilege granted exclusively to the wisest of the Sheikah… a privilege a Hylian could never be permitted to pursue. Especially a Hylian born under the chartings of his stars.

With a sigh of finality that rekindled his purpose, Link removed the Sheikah Slate from his belt and quickly flipped through its multiple functions until at last he reached a small orange icon labeled 'Master Cycle Zero.' With a tap of his finger, and a press of a button, he summoned forth the Divine Beast that was declared for him alone to wield, just as the sword on his back was for him to wield alone.

A tingle of excitement quelled through his body, but he muted the sensation before it manifested outwardly, and watched as the Master Cycle Zero took shape, materializing before him streaks of blue and white light. With a calm demeanor, he approached it, and then swung his leg over the seat before settling in and revved the engine. It hummed with a part mechanical, part magical roar, until at last he pulled his legs up on the footrests and turned up grass as his zoomed forward.

He was glad to find that all the simulations he used to train with beforehand offered him a realistic understanding of how his Divine Beast worked, as this was the first time that he had ridden the actual thing in the real world. There was an exhilarating thrill that accompanied riding the real thing, so despite his best efforts to suppress it, a smile landed on his lips as he sped across the country side.

With his eyes set on Hyrule Castle, Link cranked the throttle to full power, sending him soaring past trees and rivers.


It was nightfall by the time he reached his destination at the castle gates that were built in the Old Fashion. True, he could have warped to the Shrines of Oman Au, or ever Ba Baij, and cut the journey time in half, but Master Koshia had insisted that he got the chance to see as much of the world as possible in person, as knowing its layout would prove most useful in the future. Luckily, Link had no complaints about that, as he was always fond of adventuring, and looked forward for any chance to do so. He recalled one of his fondest memory of traveling when he went on a pilgrimage to the ancient Springs of the goddesses, where it was said that a mortal woman born of the goddess Hylia's blood prayed in their waters to cleanse and sanctify her body.

However, those were of old legends that not even the Monks of Val could validate with any certainty… It seemed that their knowledge of the Old Heroes and Descendants had dwindled at the turn of the millennium, when many of the Sacred Texts where lost, hidden, or burned in a bloody Civil War between the Gerudo and Hylian peoples. Of the hidden Texts, only a few were ever recovered, and now sat locked away in the Royal Family's vaults as mere heirlooms of a forgotten age. Had it not been for the visions that the golden goddesses above had gifted to Master Koshia, Link would have surely found himself falling from the destiny written for him in the heavens, and would have never ventured into the Lost Woods to seek out the Sword of Evil's Bane.

However, fate ―and by proxy, the goddesses― were on their side, for it was indeed the Sword of Evil's Bane resting weightlessly on his back, and his true purpose fully realized in his heart. Still, there was much work to do, and he nor the Monks of Val knew exactly how long they had to achieve their goals.

That was something that kept him up at night; not knowing when doom would spring its trap, but with a few conscious blinks, he returned to the world before him, and gazed upon the battlements above.

Link had always rather enjoyed studying the architectural style of his ancestors during his training in Kakariko Village, but actually having the chance to see it in person made him come to appreciate their ingenuity even more, considering all they had to work with was stone and mortar. Of course, it was nothing compared to the durability of the alloys used in Sheikah architecture for over the last two-hundred years, but to its credit, the castle of the Hylians' ancestors ―his ancestors― was built to last.

Even the Temple of Time, which was by far centuries older than the castle itself stood tall and proud, seemingly untouched by its namesake. He would make sure to visit it during his stay and offer his prayers to the goddesses and their chosen Guardian of Hyrule, Hylia.

"State your name and business," the gatemen huffed emphatically, but Link gave no indication to his adversity to such rudeness. Being rude was heavily frowned upon by the ways of the Korinz'Val, but as their mantra implied, the Shadows would help him to interpret the situations he found himself in and guide him to respond accordingly. Therefore, rudeness was sometimes viewed as a necessary evil when it came to being a purveyor of honest ―sometimes brutal― truth.

"I am Master Link of Kakariko. I have come to speak with the King of Hyrule."

Something akin to a piggish snort emanated from the soldiers nasally throat as he recollected his name, and purpose of being there.

"Ay," the gateman said to his comrade on the battlements above. "Looks like the half-breed is here. Open up the gate."

Link steeled himself against the insult, and let it go impassively. Half-breed. That is what they called him, and those like him. Of course, it was never true. He was a Hylian through and through, but because he had been orphaned, and then later raised by the Sheikah monks in Kakariko, he had been awarded with the 'endearing' nickname that implied that he was of one race but thought and acted as another, thus making him a half-breed in a societal sense.

It used to get a rise out of him before he mastered the ways of the Korinz'Val, but still, even now he found that sometimes the rage within that Master Koshia spoke of made it hard to temper his emotions.

He was not the only 'half-breed' to have existed. Many orphans like him had been raised by the near omniscient Monks and had been trained to be mighty and just warriors or diplomats, but they were few in number. Which was a shame indeed because ―excluding the Monks themselves― the 'half-breeds' were just about the final line of peace between the Hylians and Sheikah sects of the Klavin'Zein from going to war with one another.

In much earlier years ―long before his time― Link's sort would have been honored among the ranks of the Hylian people, but now, with the power plays going on just under the scarce blanket of so called 'peace,' the Sheikah-raised orphans were looked down upon only slightly less than the Sheikah themselves.

Indeed, a bitter shame considering how far the world had advanced when its races strove for unity all those years ago.

"Alright," the gateman huffed again. "Get in there. And keep your nose down half-breed. Goddesses knows why they agreed to let you have an audience with the King."

With many more huffs and puffs, Link was led ―or more accurately, escorted― up the winding stone causeways of Hyrule Castle to its peak at the Throne Room. As they traveled, he thought about how odd it was that even though the Hylians and Sheikah were locked in a silent and undeclared cold war, they somehow managed to keep their fortress so securely guarded with Sheikah technology. From the countless Guardian Turrets, and the weapons the guards carried, to the inactive Guardian Stalkers that rested along the path, the Hylians had amassed a respectable force of autonomous weaponry.

They must have acquired it all before relations soured.

Nonetheless, that was another thought for another time, as he was left to stand in a large anteroom just before the Throne Room. Two Royal Guards shot daggers at him with their eyes, of which reflected the bright glowing blue blades of their Sheikah Spears but made no comments against him. They were a little more disciplined than that at least… for now.

Link waited patiently for quite some time, but after nearly a half hour, he had decided that he had been waiting long enough considering the weight and urgency of his reason for being there. He turned to address one of the guards.

"Sir," he started plainly. "Would you mind making sure that the King is aware of my arrival. I have urgent business with him. I would appreciate it immensely if you would check."

"Your time will come when it comes," the guard answered with an annoyed glare. "Between us, I know he doesn't have time to speak to you right now. He and the council have more important things to attend to."

"I understand that they think that," Link replied without indignation. "But I am afraid that I must insist that I see him tonight."

"Listen pal, you're just going to have to wait," the guard sneered resolutely. "So why don't you just piss off and try again tomorrow." Link sighed, and squinted his eyes slightly, but excused the rise of frustration in his mind before responding calmly.

"One more hour I will wait," he said with a gesture. "If I am not received at or before then, then I will be left with no choice but to enter regardless." The guards snickered at his declaration and brushed it off like one would brush off a toddlers fit-induced threat.

"We'll see about that, half-breed."

Link stayed true to his word, and waited for exactly one hour, but no one came to receive him. So, with a sigh and a clearing of the throat, he glanced to each guard, nodded once, and goodbye'd them with a curt "Gentlemen," before taking three big steps towards the door.

The guards shifted, and brandished their spears with silent warnings, but Link continued walking and reached for the door handle. The right guard went to grab him by the wrist, but moment he contacted skin, his hand passed through as if Link was made of nothing more than smoke, allowing Link to simply slip by, kick open the doors, and waltz right into the Throne Room unchallenged.

It was an old, but dreadfully handy trick he mastered during his training in Kakariko, although it was a rather taxing skill to pull off and required immense concentration. Becoming a mere shadow of himself was never a pleasant task.

Hearing the momentary gasps of confusion, and then the rattling of armor as the guards burst through the door to chase Link down brought an amused grin to his lips, but he stowed it away swiftly as he passively presented himself in the center of the Throne Room, cutting past the council members that were congregated before the King to discuss matters of state, and bowed in the Sheikah style.

"What is the meaning of this!?" the King shouted as his cheeks and forehead grew red with his famed ill temperament.

"King Gustaf Jorin Hyrule, I have come to request an audience with you personally, as it seems that our previously agreed upon meeting has been forgotten." Just as the guards that failed to keep him out rushed forward to restrain him, Link merely dodged their hands without a hint of effort, ending in both of them falling face first on the marble floor embarrassingly.

It was only a matter of second until a dozen glowing spears and swords were pointed at him as the Throne Room Guards surrounded him, but Link's indifferent expression spoke volumes to how little he feared for his safety.

"If I recall correctly," the King fired back, "you are standing in my castle, my domain! Time moves as I will it. I was aware of out predestined meeting, but chose to ignore it, for I simply have no time nor patience to listen to meaningless religious chatter from the posterchild of a white-haired hermit who spends the majority of his day either sucking in incense through his crooked nose or gazing up into the clouds as if staring at them will make them rain!"

"And I bring no desire to disrespect your sovereignty over your domain," Link replied honestly, "but as it seems I bear news that very well may determine the future security of said domain, I am afraid I simply must insist that this discussion is push aside no longer."

A long, tense silence fell upon the Throne Room as the King's sharp eyes grew keener and more slanted, until at last he grunted with distaste, and ordered his men to stand down.

"Very well. You have five minutes."

"Thank you, your Majesty." Link clasped his hands behind his back, and began to walk in slow, pensive paces as he spoke, the entire audience of courtiers watching his every step with either bitter disgust, or utter shock at his downright audacious display of rebellious behavior. "As I am sure Master Maz Koshia has informed you in writing, the Sword of Evil's Bane has indeed been found, and a bearer has been chosen to wield it. Now, I am also sure that you, along with nearly every soul in Hyrule, believe that such a sword has never, or no longer exists, therefore the ancient Evil tied to said sword has never, nor no longer exists."

"Did you come to tell me about fairytales and legends, boy?" the King mocked with a glowering expression. "Or is there at some point a purpose to all this nonsense?"

"Now," Link continued without hesitation. "Seeing it that I am now in possession of the Sword of Evil's Bane, there is a basis of irrefutable fact that the great Evil that has haunted this world since the founding of our race has or will return. That is why with your blessing, I wish to investigate further into the matter by having access to the Sacred Texts held within your personal vaults, as well as begin our search for the woman of Hylia's blood, as it is always prophesied in the ancient stories."

A beat of silence passed, and then the whole court burst into an uproar of laughter, all of which was directed towards Link. Link offered a silent thanks to Master Koshia for teaching him the ways of impassivity and composure, for if he had not, then his face would have surely been of the brightest red color by then. To any outside observer, however, not a fraction of his demeanor changed despite the crowd that insulted him with their laughter.

"Oh come now boy," the King laughed as he wiped a tear away from his eye. "I always took your master for an eccentric religious fanatic, but really!? He sent you all the way here to humor us with children's stories? Perhaps I should invite him to stay in my court personally. I have been in need of a good jester."

The rage within boiled with fiery indignation, but Link bottled it up and used its energy to fuel his avid determination.

"If it pleases you, your majesty, I should like to present to you the Master Sword." With a swift motion, Link unbuckled the scabbard that was strapped to his back, and held in in his hands none threateningly, as to not spook the guards. Still laughing, the King waved his consent, believing in nothing the young man said, and waited to laugh more.

In a slow, practiced motion, Link drew the Master Sword from its sheath, and unveiled its otherworldly blue glow that shone like crystal moon light.

The laughing quelled to a stop as the whole of the courtiers gazed at the magnificent blade of magical powers.

"An impressive blade indeed," the King snorted only a little more seriously. "But why should I ever believe that this is the Sword? Why, just look at my guard's swords. They too glow blue. I am not impressed by your simple steel. We have not made weapons in that style for over a century."

"If it pleases you, your majesty," Link replied as he held the Sword hilt outwards. "I permit you to hold this fine weapon, and test your worthiness of it."

It was a challenge, and everyone knew it… but the King was far to prideful, and far to self-assured to leave the challenge unanswered. So, with another assured wicked laugh, the King stood from his throne, stepped down the dais to Link's level, and waited for him to kneel, as was customary whenever a knight presented their monarchs with a weapon.

However, as Hylian as Link might have been, he was no civilian of the King's domain, nor was he a knight, and therefore he parted with no show of deference.

The tension in the room became palpable, and all amused smiles on the courtiers' lips melted away, while the King's brows angled deeper in a silent threat. His one message was clear… 'kneel.'

All it would take was a spark to start the fire that was brewing, but still Link made no change in his expression, nor his demeanor, and continued to stare into the King's eyes; passivity incarnate. Tensions continued to mount to lethal heights, until at last it snapped, and the King grasped the Master Sword in his hand, and attempted to lift it.

The only thing was, the moment the Master Sword left Link's hands, its weight increased tenfold, resulting in the King nearly falling over as he tried to heave it back up.

"What is this witchcraft," he cursed vehemently.

"It is not witchcraft, your Majesty. It is the Sword of the goddess. It answers to the one it has chosen, and him alone."

"That's nonsense!" the King growled before letting the Sword clatter to the ground with a resounding ring. With a smug snap of the fingers, he summoned over one of his tallest and largest personal guards, who dropped to one knee with 'your majesty' on his lips. "Sir Geralt," the King barked, all while glaring down the young Hylian opposite of him. "Pick this Sword up immediately!"

"Yes, your majesty." The knight, however, found no more success than his king, and despite that fact that he stood at least a head taller than anyone else in the Throne Room, and his arms were thick as tree trunks, the most he could manage to do was grip its hilt in two hands and barely lifted it above his waist before trembling and had to set it down.

"Like I said, your majesty," Link began as he bent down to the Master Sword and picked it up as if it weighed no more than a feather. "The Master Sword answers only to me. Let this be proof to you that the Evil will return. I urge you to listen to my plea."

With a grumble and grunt, the King spun on his heel, beads of angry sweat beating on his brow, and slumped back down into his throne, his face contorting and twitching with fevered rage at this embarrassing display.

"Listen here, boy," he continued with a snarl. "I have seen many incredible things in my lifetime. From the Divine Beasts that safeguard our kingdom, to the weapons and structures you see before you. Your magic play sword means nothing to me. Do not think that I can me manipulated into believing a fairy tale such as this… Master Sword." The King scoffed at the very name of it. "Now, I grow weary of hearing this useless banter. I have real matters to attend to. You are permitted to rest in one of our guest rooms for the night, but in the morning, I want you gone, and crawling back to your precious Monks."

"Your majesty, there is more," Link insisted unwaveringly as he sheathed the Master Sword and pulled the Sheikah Slate from his belt. With a swipe of his finger, he flipped through hundreds of icons on its screen, until at last he pressed on the one he was searching for and placed the Slate on the ground face up. There were many more snickers and taunts from the King and his cohorts, but all in an instance their mouths were clamped shut.

From the Sheikah Slate there came a projection that took form across the entirety of the expansive hall, until at last it solidified into a simple but entrancing holographic chart of the heavens.

"This is a chart of the stars exactly twenty years prior, your majesty," Link stated before pacing a few steps forward, and circled a small cluster of stars with his finger, which left a neat trail of red to outline the focal point of his presentation. "As you can see here, these are the constellations of the goddess Farore, and the Spirit of Courage. Together they form what is known as the Hero's Constellation… a gathering that had not been seen for thousands upon thousands of years. Of what knowledge that remains in this world, we know that under the circumstances, a Hylian boy is always born, and later, when he grows old enough, he takes up the mantle of the Hero, and draws forth the Sword of Evil's Bane to fight back the Evil alongside the Descendant."

Link paused, and took a breath.

"As it just so happens, that these exact same stars were in full array on the day of my own birth, twenty years ago today. And so, here I stand before you, twenty years wiser, the one true Master Sword on my back, pleading that you allow me the chance to conduct my search for knowledge of when the Evil will resurface, and with the will of the goddesses, find the mortal woman of Hylia's blood."

That was when there was at last a change in the Kings disingenuous demeanor. In the blink of an eye, he went from being of bemused antipathy, to an air of fiery greed as he gawked at the Sheikah Slate laid freely on his Throne Room's floors. That was the turning point of when the King realized that perhaps this foolish boy could be used for his benefit after all.

"Tell me, son," the King shifted in his tone to seem much kinder. "Where did you acquire a device such as that? A Sheikah Slate it is called, is it not?"

"Yes, your majesty. It was given to me by the Monks of Val," Link replied with a critical eye before looping the Sheikah Slate back onto his belt. "But I do not see why this is of importance."

"Forgive me," the King responded, "You are of course correct. You were saying… about the stars?"

Link nodded, duly noting the change, but brought no attention to it.

"It was on the day of my birth, when my mother died, that I was given to be risen under the ways of the Korinz'Val by my master, Monk Maz Koshia of the One-Hundred and Forty-Five, and the followers of the Eye of Truth. He was the one that gazed upon the heavens and saw the chartings of my birth. He was the one that received visions from the golden goddess, and led me on the path of destiny. I ask of you, King of Hyrule, allow me to conduct my search freely. The fate of all kingdoms rests upon your decision."

A long silence fell into place, and the King's intense eyes squinted as a small crooked smile stretched across his lips.

"Very well. I have been convinced. You have my blessing to access what Sacred Texts we posses."

Link felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up… he knew that there was a secret game afoot… but he remained silent to that regard and bowed with his palms pressed together in the Sheikah style.

"Thank you, your majesty."

"Come now, you must be tired from your travels. I will ensure a place is prepared for you, and then we may speak again at a more convenient time."

With a wave of his hand, the King dismissed Link, and he was led to his room, where once he was at last alone, contacted Master Koshia through his Sheikah Slate and reported his progress.

"The King has finally agreed to allow me access to what Sacred Texts they hold…" He trailed off.

"There is something more?" Master Koshia questioned. "Something that unnerves you?"

"I sense that he seeks to use me, master," Link replied. "It was not until I presented my Sheikah Slate that he at last agreed to let me stay. I believe he wishes to it for his personal gain."

"I see," Master Koshia sighed. "Shekiah Slates are rare, and very powerful tools. It would not surprise me if he wishes to get his hands on it. I would advise that you be cautious, Chosen One."

"I will. Thank you Master Koshia."

"May the shadows guide you," Master Koshia said in closing.

"And may they watch over you," Link replied.