*The young Hylian stands amidst the swirling sand, and strong wind flowing over the barren land scape. He stands, staring downwards, listening to the slow footfalls behind him. He can hear the creak of old bones, and a foul smell in the air. His hand lays resolutly on the hilt of his dagger, and his calfes are tightened, ready to spring. Something evil walked in the desert this day.*