The cold wind whipped across the desert, dragging the sand up to smite any living thing that stood on the vast expanse of dunes. It would have been strange to any outsider, to feel such an icy gale blowing over a place that burned with enough heat to cook a man alive mere hours ago. Not now- now it was night. Now all was cold.

'Even when the sun goes down...'

'The wind still carries only death...'

A lone figure made its way through the frigid night. Draped in dark robes, meant to be used as blankets to keep out the very chill that now assaulted the creature from all sides, it was almost impossible to make out its silhouette against the pale glow of the stars. It was a new moon, and the desert was practically void of any light. The stranger moved without any illumination. It was fate that guided him to the place he had long sought after. The shadows offered a better hope of showing the man the way than the sun or moon.

Yes, he was indeed a man. In the Desert of the Gerudo, there were but few men. The land belonged to the race of warriors for which it was named, and among them there were no men, only women. Only one man had been seen among them in many a long age, and he had fallen by the hands of the Gods, cursed for his greed and blood lust.

'One male child born a century...'

'Destined to be a king, a guardian to his people...'

The legends he had heard over and over again. All his people knew them. He better than many who still walked the earth. The truth in the stories had died along with those that saw and spoke of them. Time had the power to wash away all things. Time was a thing that could do much. It is the only force that exists that can destroy all. None can escape its grasp.

He pulled the thick sheets tighter around him. The journey had been long, fraught with hardships and danger. There was little water to find in this harsh ocean of sand, and what food he could come by consisted mostly of things he would normally be forbidden to eat. He was cold and weakened by the biting wind. The man wished to stop, but knew he could not. He had to make it to his destination before sunrise, as foolhardy as it sounded, or chances of finding it would be even smaller.

He pondered on the two great forces that seemed to impede his progress. The wind and time. The wind seemed to be an agent of time. He could see the great pyramids built by his ancestors were ravaged by time; yet it was by the wind that they eroded. Even the grandest of constructions, the mightiest of colossuses could not with stand the crushing press of time, grinding them down into waste.

'Greatly have I desired to conquer that which torments us...'

'The two great destroyers who have ransacked our land...'

The man stiffly marched onward. He was getting closer to his destination. He could feel it deep within his mind. The magic of generations of desert sages coursed through his veins. He knew he was almost there.

The wind continued to blow fiercely. He blinked to keep the sand out of his eyes. Each step seemed to become more difficult, as fatigue tugged at his tired body, and the freezing wind clawed at him like a sharp knife. Still he strived to move on, to reach the place that called out to him. He would not stop. He would not rest. He would not allow himself to be defeated.

'It is the greatest Power of all that I wish to possess...'

'So that I might conquer Time itself...'

He breathed hard against the chilly air. Sand had filled his mouth and nostrils. The wind howled in defiance of this infidel. It seemed to get colder, and the sky seemed to grow darker. Yet it mattered little to the weary traveler. He had made it.

The building was vast, that much he could tell. Anything else was left up the imagination. The thick blackness that seemed to enshroud the whole place was too dense to discern any of the structure's features. It looked as if many different constructions had been erected over the same foundation, creating layers of ruined architecture around the area. He had to watch his step as he wandered the ancient grounds, careful not to trip over a fallen brick or slab of stone. He muttered incantations to ward off the dark spirits that certainly inhabited this place- known to be cursed by his people. The learned sage could sense the traps and spells laid to keep away intruders, and avoided them accordingly. After much navigation, he reached the massive doors of the true building, still quite beyond his power to fully see. Before he could even reach to touch the doors, a cold voice hissed out from within the citadel.

"Halt! What stranger dares to defile the sacred grounds of the Gerudo!?"

The man, beaten and tired as he was, could not but press forward. He had traveled too far and fought too hard to gain access to this place, and he would not be denied the thing he desired.

'Why is it I should be denied that which is my destiny to possess?'

'If thou has a strong desire or whim, wish it...'

"My name is Agahnim, a priest of the tribes of the Zuna! One who has looked into the Mirror of Darkness, who has seen the faces of evil, who has peered into the heart of the Banished King, who seeks to learn the secrets of the Dark Tribe! I have beheld your master! Open your door so I may enter!"

At that, the great doors before him soundlessly opened inward, revealing the absolute darkness within. The blackness inside was greater than that of the night that enveloped the building. Two calm, feminine voices spoke in unison, clearer than the first.

"We welcome you, dear child of the desert. Please, enter the Palace of the Forgotten."